#plan of dissent content a++++

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Nine

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Nine: The Niece of Oden

The niece of Oden. That’s all you were to them. A female, no less. From the earliest whispers of instruction, the expectations were clear: sit gracefully, adorn yourself, and be the picture of delicate beauty.

While boys of Wano honed their skills with blades, you were relegated to the sidelines. They immersed themselves in the rigorous dance of training, bodies bathed in sweat, their knees buckling under the weight of relentless practice. The air carried the pungent aroma of dried mud and the metallic tang of spilled blood.

As nightfall draped the land in obsidian hues, you sought solace by the window, palms pressed against the cold glass. Your eyes traced the graceful arcs of the boys’ swords, their movements unfolding like a mesmerising dance. In those stolen moments, you yearned to understand the visceral satisfaction of exertion, the sensation of hard-earned sweat trickling down your face. You pondered whether your blood bore the same crimson hue as theirs, if your lungs could inhale the world as expansively as theirs did.

You never chose this life - to be related to Oden. Even now, beneath the flickering flames in the quiet of the night, with molten metal as your only companion, you entertain the notion of an alternate destiny. A life where another name might grant you the freedom to seamlessly slip into the revered mantle of a female samurai.

From an early age, your spirit rebelled against the stifling norms. While boys unleashed battle cries and practiced their swordplay on training dummies, your own voice echoed too loudly, your spirit too untamed for their liking. The chastisements rained down upon you, attempting to stifle the echoes of your free-spirited defiance. Yet, your determination, hard-headed and resolute, only strengthened with each admonishment.

The moment your desire to become a samurai slipped past your lips, the ancestral hall became a theatre of amusement. Laughter, like a gathering storm, rolled through the room, carrying with it the weight of generations of ingrained expectations.

As the echoes of their amusement reverberated off the solemn walls, the clan members, adorned in traditional Kozuki garb, revealed expressions ranging from amused condescension to incredulous disdain. It was as if the very foundations of propriety had been jostled by your audacious revelation.

Among the sea of scoffs and smirks, a voice jeered through the laughter, a biting remark that lingered in the air like a venomous serpent.

"Who's been letting her play with boys?"

The mockery, though veiled in jest, carried the unspoken assumption that the realm of samurai was a sacred domain, exclusive to the masculine.

A second dissenting voice chimed in, objecting with the weight of tradition.

"Not fitting for a Kozuki girl!"

"Maybe more etiquette lessons would be in order..." Another offered.

The proposal, wrapped in the guise of refinement, hinted at the need to redirect your ambitions toward the prescribed path of a demure Kozuki lady.

In the face of the anticipated derision that permeated the room, you stood resolute, a lone figure amidst a sea of mocking adults. Their condescending smirks and dismissive glances were met with a quiet certainty—a knowing glint in your eyes that betrayed a secret plan unfolding.

The impending act, the linchpin to reshape your destiny, unfolded with stolen glue in your possession. Each precious drop was meticulously squeezed into your cupped palms, and with deliberate intent, you coated both your hair and hands in the viscous substance.

The room held its breath as you slammed one hand and the cascade of glue-laden hair to the floor. Simultaneously, your other hand clung to your eyebrows, and your penetrating glare cut through the stunned silence.

"I yearn for more!" your voice echoed. "If my existence is confined to the spectacle of long hair and a pleasant smile, then I’m prepared to tear it all away! I am ready to sacrifice!"

The gravity of your proclamation hung in the air, a potent declaration of defiance that resonated through the room. The room held a palpable tension, like a gathering storm waiting to unleash its fury.

The glue clung to your hair and hands, a sticky emblem of rebellion against the predetermined fate assigned to you as the cousin of Oden's children.

As the silence hung in the air, broken only by the ticking of the clock, your eyes locked onto a familiar face—the former shogun seated behind the imposing Kozuki conference table. It was an unspoken agreement; a pact of silence from all in that room that spared you from immediate retribution.

His chair creaked as he rose, the wood protesting against the movement, and the room seemed to hold its breath as heavy footsteps approached your defiant form. Was it the glue that clouded your senses, or was it the fear that gripped your heart? The distinction blurred in the gravity of the moment.

With a deliberate grace, the former shogun knelt down, a glint of curiosity flickering in his eyes as he surveyed the empty glue tube. His thumb idly twirled across the cap, and a grin crept onto his weathered face.

"Nice move," he commented, the pride thick in his voice. "I was wondering when you were going to steal that.”

🂇

You wake up with a groan, feeling the slow passage of time like glue dripping, glue that resists to harden, at the tips of your fingers. Like glue…Glue…?

Your fingers gingerly touch your head, half-expecting to come in contact with a thick glaze of glue smeared over a crop of torn hair, but with a relieved sigh, you feel the soft brown strands that spill across instead.

Impassively, you stare at the ship’s ceiling. That dream…A smile curls widely on your lips as you remember. Dare you say, you’re still impressed with the younger you who was ready to risk it all – even her eyebrows.

“You’re awake.” Robin smiles, two cups of tea balancing in her fingers as she steps into the study.

Using your elbows, you push up from your makeshift bed, returning her smile as she silently offers you a steaming cup. The sight warms your heart, and you take the cup graciously.

"I bet I'm the last one to wake up, huh?" you muse, glancing at the hue of the afternoon sun. Its light orange tone indicates that it's still relatively early in the day. Robin laughs a little, shaking her head.

"No, actually. Everyone else is still knocked out, except for Zoro. I like to research, and Zoro, training…" she mentions, settling at the end of your bed.

“I’m sorry I had to stay over - I didn’t want to impose.”

Robin laughs. “Honestly, I’m surprised Luffy didn’t take this as a chance to sail away and keep you hostage.”

As you two curl on the bed, a brief moment of comfortable silence washes across the room. You look through the window again, passively staring at the lapping waves, lips firmly pursed.

What happened last night? You faintly remember drinking a lot, taking shots with Franky, eagerly involving yourself in a battle of cards with Robin…You remember Luffy who wrapped his arms around you, pulling you and Usopp to dance. And…and then…?

And then, what?

Suddenly, a fragment of a memory flashes into you like thunder. Your body tenses, your throat tightening.

And…Gramps’ face. Glancing across his shoulder every so often while some sort of darkness consumed his countenance. And when he would catch you looking – well, he’d just grin and stretch, turning himself away from you.

“Raya?” Robin lowers her book from her eyes, concern staining them. Her eyes flicker to your blanket, a slight sheet of frost twinkling across its cotton fabric.

Well, that’s embarrassing. That’s like the equivalent of pissing your pants.

"I’m just thinking," you quickly respond, forcing out a wobbly smile. Your desperate eyes pierce Robin’s; hers, naturally, narrow in reply. “Did my old man stay over?”

With a raised eyebrow, Robin fully sets her book down on her lap with a sense of alertness. “No, he went back when you went to sleep.”

Your gaze quickly shifts back to the window, trying to stifle down the dread that was now surging through you

Robin's usually composed expression transforms into one of genuine concern, her eyes narrowing with worry. When she finally speaks, her voice carries an unusual weight. "Is everything alright?"

You can't bear to stay in the study any longer. The weight of unspoken dread pushes you to rise abruptly, stumbling outside like an inmate escaping prison. The rhythmic clinking of weights fills the deck, an abrupt stop signalling Zoro's attention as you quickly descend the stairs.

Fumbling with your hair, you rush to the barrel of swords by the dock. Pulling one out, you sling the scabbard off from its steel with a sense of urgency. A muttered curse slips through your lips as you observe the blade, realising these are the non-valuables – I mean, who needs the real ones for a fucking play?

Your gaze narrows, glaring profoundly at the edge of the metal as if sheer willpower could reshape it into a more suitable weapon. The air thickens with tension, the clinking weights forgotten as Zoro's gruff voice breaks through the atmosphere.

"Where're you going?" His voice, a low growl, resonates behind you, the weights quickly set aside, wiping sweat from his brow with a swift motion.

Without turning to face him, you sheathe the sword with hurry; it's not the ideal choice for a fight, but it'll have to do. A sense of determination seeps into your movements, fuelled by your unknown anxiety of a potential situation. Your response to Zoro is abrupt, tinged with emergency.

"Home."

With that, you make a run for it. Desperation fuels your steps, sweat beads forming across your brow as you reach the peak of the hill. The gravity of your tone didn't escape Zoro's keen perception, of course not; the distant sounds from down by the dock tell you he's shot up from his spot, and the clink of three metal weapons against wood signifies his preparation to follow.

As you slip into the cracks, you hear heavy footsteps sliding and crunching against gravel, catching up to you. Zoro easily trails behind, his eye flickering with silent questions, your grave expression reflecting in his alert gaze.

“I don’t have time to bicker,” you say, your voice echoing against the sloping planes of the cave. You turn to give him a pointed look. “I’m not going to ask why you’re here. Just… stay alert.”

The cave's second opening looms ahead, and the darkness inside seems to swallow your form as you rush forward, leaving the open air behind. The tension hangs in the air like a storm on the horizon, threatening to unleash its fury.

As both you and Zoro reach the end of the cave – a small, serene opening beaming with the familiar field and rolling hills in view – there's one small detail that stains your relief, justifying your earlier inexplicable feeling of dread.

A colossal shadow, tangible and three-dimensional, yet feathered around its edges, looms over your home. The grass and flowers, once lively, now brush around its gasping form, wilting as if drained of life.

The shadow pivots, almost as if it senses your hitching breath. And you feel the blood rush out of you. A sense of terror grips you as you witness its form—a pure void, a silhouette of a body in shades of purple and black, bruised and glinting like polluted smoke in the air. No distinct features, no nose, no mouth, no fingers or feet…

Your heart hammers in your chest and a sense of fury tightens your grip around the hilt of your sword.

No eyebrows, no hair, no lashes or nails…

All but for one feature.

Large, unblinking, magenta eyeballs gaze at you.

They float in the places of where eyes should be, sure, but they’re…they’re just eyeballs.

Eyes amidst a shroud of all-consuming darkness.

#one piece #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #one piece luffy #luffy #monkey d luffy #one piece ace #straw hat pirates #usopp #sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #straw hat luffy #one piece fanfiction #one piece fic #one piece fanfic #op fanfic #op fandom #female reader x zoro #zoro x female reader #zoro x fem reader #three sword style #zoro roronoa #zoro rorono x you #zoro roronoa x y/n #straw hats

[hangesdarling]

Could you make hange x female reader enemies to lovers with Hange teasing her later

tease — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You always find yourself in dissent with the Survey Corps Squad Leader, Hange. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, vaginal fingering, implied sex, teasing, your usual enemies-to-lovers thing, i suppose WORD COUNT. 1.9k A/N. playful hange, my beloved <33

The Survey Corps always clashes with the Military Police Brigade in some way or another. The factions never seemed to have a moment where silent resentment didn't boil over. After being given a chance to choose a regiment, you never considered being part of the Survey Corps. Only the bravest or the craziest or the ones with no choice ends up with that fate. You're meant for the inner walls, to fulfill a duty within where you won't have to risk your life in a slim chance that a titan won't devour you in a battle.

You never lifted an eye for those in that regiment, but interesting news always comes up now and then. Not just the newspapers or whispers from other soldiers. You couldn't deny that every time the regiment goes outside the wall, a heavy tone sets in. 

Deaths, corpses, and grieving families. You were too caught up with the fact that you never had to deal with such gruesome things until the fall of Shiganshina.

Military Police began to work closely at times with the Garrison Regiment and the Survey Corps, who had a more appreciated role around this time. A clash between the regiment members occurs now and then, especially you and that crazy Survey Corps Squad Leader who has a propensity for grabbing people's collars.

Maybe you were annoyed at their temper, or how their reckless-sounding plans always turned up effective somehow which would never work out according to the Military Police Brigade's principle. It's way too different.

However, a sudden shift in your relationship occurred when you decided to be snarky one time.

Hange's hand clenched around your collar in a rather strong grip, and honestly, you forgot how you both ended up arguing to that extent. Your face was centimeters away from theirs as you smirked, "You know if you want an excuse to touch me so bad, there are better ways other than grabbing my collar. You could just say so, for example."

"Oh, get over yourself, L/N," Hange huffed, letting go of you. "As if I'd want to do that."

Your subordinates have told you that Hange gets pissed off at the right things and their anger is something to be feared. But it always brings you satisfaction when their cheeks or the tips of their ears redden when they are annoyed. It's cute, you must admit.

"Awww, is the Squad Leader blushing?" you crossed your arms, grinning.

Hange gave you a bright sarcastic smile and responded, "You make the blood vessels on my face dilate and it makes me want to rip your head off, darling."

"See, you're smitten," you chuckled.

Hange huffed this time, deciding it was over messing with you, and headed for the door. "Whatever. Go back to work."

"Hey, you can't command me like that. We're in the same rank!" Your indignant response made Hange smirk but they'll never show you that.

-

Maybe you don't have intentions to get close to them in a way where they'd piss you off in return first and have their fingers buried inside you the next in a cramped storage room.

"Shhh, quiet down, Y/N... Do you want the others to hear you? You're into that, huh?" Hange smirked, lips grazing the shell of your ear, making sure that every thrust of their digits was deep enough that their knuckles brushed against your folds.

"You might like trying to shut up for once. It looks good on you," you managed to say.

"Do you think I'd have such a pretty MP officer on my lap right now if it weren't for my insufferable, talkative mouth?"

"You know what? I'll bring a gag next time. That'll shut you up."

"And here I thought you can't get any kinkier." Hange playfully bit on your neck, relishing at the sounds you made that were soon muffled by their hand over your mouth.

You mewled and whimpered under their touch, any sense of decorum and authority thrown out of the window. The stuffy air inside the room didn't matter nor did the lack of a window, you drew a breath, head resting on their neck where you could inhale their scent. They remind you of fresh grass and perfume powders from your childhood.

Hange's hand would cradle your head to their chest in every silent intimacy shared in that room, their other hand rubbing circles on your hip in waiting for your highs to subside.

"This won't be a regular thing," you would say but both of you knew it was a lie uttered in an attempt to deny yourself more. Your meetings couldn't stand as infrequent when each day was a reminder that you would see each other again. Every time you stripped off your clothes, you would see every kiss mark and love bite from Hange etched on your skin. Hange knew you wouldn't admit your surreptitious desires even at gunpoint, and that only urged them to rib at the persona you clothed yourself with. A game of who would cave in first.

-

Some things could only be investigated in proper light when the sky gets dark. With intuition as sharp as Hange's, Erwin knew it would be best to trust investigations to them. From regiment treachery to pilferage that wears away the system, Hange finds the most relevant information in the obscure.

Streets weren't as busy on weekend nights. The village takes rest on those few hours when families are too busy lounging at home to notice dubious operations outside. Hange crept into the darkness, each gray shadow turning a shade darker by their lamplight. Their eyes crossed over the scroll containing all the points that led them here, the gears in their head turning about how they could fully unearth the mystery.

But then, alertness spiked in their veins the moment they heard sharp scurrying footsteps and hasty shadows running in their direction. Their usual calmness escaped them when the shadow held their arms, but their fighting instincts shut down when they heard, "Hange, it's me..."

Hange regained their composure when they saw your face by their lamplight, your chest rose and sank, making Hange wonder how long you've been running. They were taking a clear look at you, eyes momentarily traveling over the scrape on your cheek, and your frantic eyes looking from the direction you came from. But before Hange could utter a question, you abruptly put their lamplight down, quite aggressively that it was almost knocked off from Hange's hands if it weren't for their grip.

Hange felt your finger pressed against their lips as they heard you once more.

"Shut the hell up," you muttered, both in desperation and command and also by the knowledge that Hange was seconds away from running their mouth.

"I haven't said anything," Hange mumbled back.

"Shhhh..." you hissed as voices became audible from the direction you ran from. "They're coming so be quiet.”

Hange couldn't see much from the darkness but their hands knew where your hips were by touch. Their hands settled around them as they asked, "Who's coming?"

You couldn't find the heart to tell Hange that you were spying on fellow Military Police officers to gain evidence of their corruption both in trade and land. People might have coupled you to the elite, high, and mighty commanding rank of the brigade but you're not a filthy traitor of humanity unlike what those other MP officers subjected themselves to.

"I got in trouble," is all you said, your tone unwelcoming to any further questions Hange might ask. You would answer them some time but not now. Not when all the truth you could tell only punctuates that you belong in a rotten, grimy-handed faction.

The footsteps drew close, the familiar sound of an unholstering gun, and a voice posing seniority along with the other two. Hange wasn't a fool and knew they were Military Police officers as well. Their eyes peeked beyond the alleyway, calculating that both of you had nowhere to run at this point but a direction towards danger. No safe options, in short.

Hange turned back to you, eyes grazing at the outline of your figure.

"You know we could be pretending to make out instead of huddling together like a bunch of cows in summer," they proposed, fingers lightly tapping your hip in suppressed nervousness. It was a laughable proposal in a certain context, but it wasn't a terrible one.

"Ugh, what a pervert," you mumbled to yourself, running the idea in your mind in consideration and at the same time cursing yourself for being flustered at such an unlikely time.

"What! I'm just trying to save your li–" Hange would like to offer more protests but your lips crashing against theirs suspended their words, even the thoughts whirling in their head.

They kneaded your hip beneath their hands, teasing the edge where your shirt ended and skirt began. Hange brushed their tongue softly against yours, reveling upon the taste of your mouth they longed to lay claim upon.

The officers only needed a glimpse of your vague outlines moving sensually in that dim alleyway to know what was going on. Unsuspectingly and half-pissed, they only passed by, remembering their authority at the last minute when one of the older men shouted, "Trysting bastards, get a damn room!"

Hange couldn't help but emit a soft laugh as they gently pulled away from the kiss, just from the light shake of their shoulder you could measure how much they were struggling to keep their laughs in. A smile lifted on your lips to its own accord, jabbing at their sides as you say, "shut up, you idiot" despite smiling widely to yourself.

-

Hange could be persistent without sounding like one. They would nurse the scrapes on your cheeks and knees while nudging you to tell them what happened earlier. Your stories were lacking due to a desire to remain an arcane persona as protection but Hange has an aptitude to string your stories and read between what your words cannot say. You're a person of good intentions, they concluded, hoping their intuition served them right as usual. You spent the rest of the night with Hange, enclosed by both their arms and a blanket. They were not so willing to let you go when early dawn broke, but you gave them a kiss of gratitude, smirking as they blushed profusely. You gathered your clothes and dressed up before leaving, wishing that tomorrow you would see them again for another warm night.

-

Most inner operations ceased temporarily the day the Survey Corps will retake Wall Maria. You remained stationed in the inner walls, occasionally visiting your office to read through a few reports until a small envelope fell out of the stack you were checking. It was from Hange and they asked a subordinate to deliver it in by the looks of it. You tore the flap and read the small note:

To Y/N,

I'll try to visit you more often. I'm also hoping you'll have some spare time to come over to my place whenever I'm here.

P. S. You never returned my pen but it's yours now, I presume. I found something of interest you left at my place last week. It's inside the envelope.

From Hange

When you shook the envelope upside down, a small button rolled on your desk. It was one of the buttons from your uniform, embedded with the Military Police Brigade logo. You sighed and kept it in your pocket, the memory of why you left such a trinket in their place sinking in and transpiring into a blush on your cheeks. It was a rough night, to say the least.

You kept the letter tucked inside your coat, making a mental note to chastise Hange and tell them not to send such things in the mail even if they want to piss you off so badly. 

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

#hange zoe imagine #hange zoë #hanji zoë #hange zoe #hanji zoe #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange zoe x you #hanji zoe x you #hange zoe x y/n #hanji zoe x y/n #hange x reader #hanji x reader #hange x y/n #hanji x y/n #hange x you #hanji x you #hange zoe smut #hanji zoe smut #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #✂ rem writes____✍︎

[bearhugsandshrugs]

I preface this by saying Gortash is a bad bad man who does many evil awful things but I also think it’s interesting to think about how him being sold to slavery as a child might have played a role in how willing he is to hurt children as part of his plans. Lots of times even villains will draw a line at hurting kids but for Gortash? I don’t think he distinguishes as much between hurting kids or adults or innocents vs people who deserve it. His view seems to be that twisted and it’s probably at least in part because no one ever treated him like an innocent to be protected when he was a child, so he sees no reason to play pretend that kids are off limits now. Those are my teddy bomb discourse thoughts but who knows. Wish we got more content with him so we could get a better read on him beyond a handful of letters and a couple of short scenes.

I actually thought about the whole teddy bear thing again. The game is telling us Gortash is some kind of master manipulator, genius politician and inventor, and overall good at considering all options. So. Let’s consider them.

Dead children. Refugees or not, dead children are always a bad look. Children just outside the Gate? Murdered, supposedly, by the cult that Gortash bangs his chest about opposing? How could that benefit him?

Yes, there will be dissent. But between whom? He’s already waging a full blown propaganda campaign against the Absolute for the wider public to fall in place, and he had plans for the nobility.

So I can’t help but wonder if he was supposed to come in as the hero to save the children. (I actually don’t know what happens in the game if you don’t intercept the bombs?) That would definitely make him popular. Gortash, uncovering a sinister plot against innocents! Gortash, averting disaster!

No one can argue with saving children, but there’s plenty of arguing to be had if children die outside your city in a terrorist attack and you weren’t able to prevent.

The way I see it there are two layers to this:

1) He really does not see children differently from adults and I 100% agree with you that this is likely the conclusion he came to after the HoH.

2) He was playing the long game, using lies and manipulations to make sure that there’s only one hero in the end: him.

#enver gortash #gortash asks #anon asks #teddy bear discourse

[yanderes-galore]

Alphabet thing I'm talking about: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderes-galore/694826177262682112/i-believe-op-reblogged-you-can-use-this-so-should?source=share

Fandom: BioShock

Character: Atlas

Pairing: Romantic

Type of Fic: prompts from an A-Z list.

(Required for prompts) Prompt numbers and what list they're from: K3, N2.

More Atlas content, let's go! This one will be another that starts off kind of strong. I was debating in making it a continuation of the Lobotomy one but I wasn't sure and scrapped it. Here you go :) Used some plot elements I talked over with the requester.

Prompts Here

Yandere! Atlas Prompts K-3 and N-2

“There’s no use trying to run. This is your home now.”

“Look at you, you’re skin and bones.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Isolation, Starvation, Breach of trust, Forced relationship, Hints to intimacy, Possessive behavior, Attempted mind break.

You had joined Atlas expecting to be saved from Ryan's tyranny. You respected his cause and saw him as someone who could set Rapture right. You're one of his top supporters.

Being so close to the big man has its perks. You had access to luxury goods and held trust between you two. Although, working with Atlas in general has its downsides.

Life or death situations were common during riots, be it bombings or some sort of Splicer issue. You never bothered touching the Plasmid stuff. You liked to keep your mind, while most of Atlas' goons were spliced to the point of madness.

You tried not to say much about the manipulation. Any help was good help and you needed numbers. Andrew Ryan was not an easy target.

While Atlas was the face of the rebellion, you were behind the scenes helping him string things together. You two were partners, in more ways than one. Atlas had eventually suggested more favors than just tactical ones.

You had agreed as he has such a charming face.

As a result, you an Atlas were partners even if no one knew much about you. Atlas was the star of the show while you were the backstage. Honestly, you didn't mind.

You just liked to fight for your cause.

Other than the occasional fight against those trying to silence you, life was enjoyable. Atlas cared for you well and you felt there was considerable progress in your rebellion.

Of course, there's always changes that throw a wrench into the gears of your plans.

A falling out between you and Atlas ruined everything. He always had a possessive behavior with you since you first gave into him. He acted like you were meant for him to use more than be your own person as time went on.

Your fight with Atlas made you want to leave his side. While you still believed in his cause, you didn't believe in him. He was quickly becoming a problem as he chased his goals.

It's become clear in your mind that he only wants power.

In fact, when you confronted him with this he only proved your point. He claimed you were becoming a dissenter to his cause and how you're betraying him for wanting to leave. You tell him you're leaving, that you plan on getting out of Rapture. You tell him it's because he's not fixing Rapture, he's using it.

His response was a snap of his fingers, detaining you on the spot with two of his men.

“There’s no use trying to run. This is your home now.”

He says it with such a cunning grin. He acts like he's won a game and you lost. He orders you to be locked in a room like you were some prisoner.

Like what happened between you two didn't matter... or maybe it mattered too much?

Locked in a room was where you guessed you were meant to rot. It was just like the prisons Ryan forced people into who followed Atlas. The only difference was the visits by Atlas and the furnishings.

Atlas tried to play nice with you at first. He tried to tell you he kept you here because he couldn't let you go. He acted as though he still "loved" you.

You neglected him. You tried to fight for freedom. You tried to escape by kicking and biting at him. That nature of yours was useful in the rebellion... but not here.

All your fighting ever got you here was dark silence and no food.

Fighting him kept your leg chained to a bed. It left you alone to listen to the creaking of underwater metal. Your only comfort was the sounds of distant whales.

You locked yourself in your own thoughts to soften the hunger pains in your gut. You focused on your anger and always stayed silent. When Atlas came in after his "punishment" was done, he faked concern.

“Look at you, you’re skin and bones.” He'd say in what sounds like mock pity. "You need to eat. Let's try again, dear, did you learn anything?"

Regardless on if you wanted to eat or not, the food would end up down your throat. Afterwards, like training a loyal dog, Atlas would test your reciprocation to his affection. It seemed his goal was to retrain you.

He mentions how you acted towards him when you joined. He tells you he loved your cooperation and misses the old times you spent with each other. You don't believe him, but understand the message.

You wouldn't leave this room until you loved him again. Atlas planned to force you to be who you were before. The moment you began to fight again, you'd be locked away with only your thoughts to keep you company again.

It's rinse... and repeat....

Atlas just had to keep going until he could mold you back into who he wanted you to be. It didn't matter how you felt. You had your role to keep.

He was going to train you like a dog...

In the end, you were always meant to be Atlas' lapdog since he claimed you as his.

#yandere bioshock #yandere bioshock infinite #yandere atlas #yandere frank fontaine

[idontgetanysleep]

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Bad Batch Edition (includes: hunter, wrecker, tech, crosshair, echo, omega, howzer, mayday)

Second Upload (includes: anakin, ahsoka, obi-wan, maul)

Starboys Series

warning: this series may effect photosensitive/epileptic users!

First Upload, based off of the album cover of Starboy by The Weekend (includes: wolffe, cody, howzer, rex )

Bad Batch Edition (includes: hunter, wrecker, echo, tech, crosshair)

This User Loves Clones Series

501st

212th + Wolf Pack

Bad Batch (plus extras)

Updated Wolf Pack/104th

Bad Batch

First Upload (set of 10)

Umbara Arc

Set of 10

Umbara

Plan of Dissent: S4E9

Maul and Savage

Brothers of Dathomir

Kanera

Music Mood Boards

The Way I loved You x Wolffe

Style x Cody

Electric Love x Plo Koon

Thistle & Weeds x Crosshair

Dynasties & Dystopia x Fox

Stitch Me Up x Rex

The Death Of Peace Of Mind x Wolffe

Human Right x Thorn

Dreamy/Wolffe

Fox/Corrie Guard

Pastel/Bad Batch

Joel Miller/Din Djarin/Oberyn Martell

Triple Frontier/Miguel O’Hara

don’t see a character you like? LMK! there are so many it’s hard to create for all of them, send me a message and i’ll be happy to get them in the mix, requests are always welcome <3

[headingalaxys-spicy]

I'd love to see Finland 🇫🇮, Denmark 🇩🇰, and/or Spain 🇪🇸 with a reader who just got her first book published, a non fiction book wanting to help people through loss. Please and thank you! 💖💖

Thank you so much for your patience! I hope you enjoy this one. I tried to make it as heartfelt as possible!

🇩🇰 Denmark 🇩🇰

You’d been staring at the computer screen until you heard some footsteps racing up your stairs. It only took you two seconds to figure out who the foot pattern belonged to.

“Y/N! Y/N! IT’S ME! LET ME IN! I HEARD- I SAW THE NEWS! LET ME IN! LET ME IN!”

From being still like an Edvard Erikson statue to your movement becoming fluid like water, you practically sprinted to your door. Once you opened the door to greet him, you were engulfed by the mid-afternoon air and muscles sculpted in the northern frost. Mathias had you caged in a bear hug and spun you around several times until you were dizzy.

“You did it y/n! You did it! I told you that simply going for it was a good idea!”

“Haha thanks Mathias!” You were choked up with laughter and relief.

Mathias carried you to your living room. You were kind of shaky, but you still couldn’t believe you followed through and finished. Your heart fluttered with joy, and you were glad to be done.

“I knew you had that spark!” He sat you down so he could inspect your face. You still had heavy bags that sat beneath your eyes. They bore the weight of all the emotions you poured out while you wrote. You swam into the depths of your soul so you could inspect its contents. The jagged rocks that lurked in the darkened waters represented all of the heartaches you’ve ever had to overcome. However sharp, it at least did not cause you to become bitter. The journeys you go through when your heart shatters under the heavy pressuring weight in the ocean of sorrow. Thinking about writing about your experiences with the ocean made tears form in the corners of your eyes.

Mathias quickly wiped away your tears as soon as they began their dissent. His bright blue hues intertwined with your darkened (eye color) that was being affected by a storm that was brewing in the distance. Mathias will share his sweet words to try to ease the incoming storm.

He’s going to plan a fun night to help you decompress from the stress of publishing a book that requires emotional energy.

He’ll want to take you to Tivoli Gardens. The number of jokes will be high because his goal for the night will be to ensure you have an amazing night. He will grab your arm and….

“OOOOOOH! Y/N! Y/N! LETS GO ON ‘THE GALLEY SHIPS AND PRETEND WE’RE VIKINGS!” He’d already bought both of you 5ft long glow sticks so you could have a sword fight there and on the way to other rides. He playfully booped your nose and forehead and slapped your legs and arms playfully with his bright ice-blue stick. You occasionally parry his offenses with your cherry-red glow stick.

Some will raise their eyebrows at his saccharine silliness. It painted the sky shades of deep pinks & reds and decorated it with vibrant flowers.

After that, he’ll escort you to the Star Flyer. He wanted the day to be fun and like a fairytale, and what better way to do that than to be on high swinging chairs? He grabs ice cream with you on your way there. You allow yourself to be fully immersed in the cotton candy daydream bubble that you were in for a while. It’s not like you got to be here often so what would the rush be?

Mathias’ bright smile seemed to have stolen a few beams of sun so that you could radiate sunlight right from his perfect teeth. He happily skips along as he thwacks you one more time gently on top of your head.

“Come on Y/N let’s hurry! Last one there loses!” He dashes off with a swift head start.

Once you’ve made it to the swings and prepared for take-off, you knew you wouldn’t have a voice. You knew you’d lose the ability to speak by the time you were done screaming your head off. Mathias adored screaming while being spun high in the air. He was like a happy Broholmer who had way too much caffeine.

As you descend back to earth, Matthias will grab your hand and decide which attraction you want to visit next. You pick a rollercoaster. You wanted to be alive! You felt alive!

Mathias will deliver when it comes to the best rides that keep you interested. The rest of the evening will be magical. He’ll show you all the best rides to suit your inner adrenaline junkie. You’ll wander around the park for a little while as you’ve been struck by the fantasy haze that has bright pastel yellows, purples, and blues.

🇫🇮 Finland 🇫🇮

He sent you a text to come over on Saturday morning for a fun get-together. He knew you well enough to make your favorite meals & snacks. Tino will have your favorite movies on DVD and have an aesthetically pleasing 500-piece puzzle for you to solve. He knows you tend to be overwhelmed about incoming critic reviews & to some extent what others think. However, Tino was ready for that. He knew your gentle heart well.

You were around the corner from Tino’s place when your heart began to pump insanely quick. Your palms were sweaty and you’d forgotten to text that you were on the way. This hangout was the only way you’d be able to distract yourself. Your publishing company dropped your book physically in shops, online, and for a Netflix exclusive content that would be read against a soothing star lit background. It had only been out for three hours or so and public opinion was beginning to pour in.

‘What if what they think what I wrote is dumb?’

‘What if it doesn’t make sense or is gibberish to those who read it?’

‘What if people think it’s too sappy?’

You pulled out your phone to check the time. It had been only a short while since the announcement was dropped. The IG post had hundreds of comments and thousands of likes. However you still hesitated at looking at the comment section even with the thousands of likes.

‘What if they’re all hate comments?’ Was another worried question that had crossed your mind. But you were eager to see what people were saying and the first impressions of your book. As you were about to jump down the rabbit hole a familiar voice dragged you back into the physical reality.

“Y/N! Y/N! Why are you just standing there staring at your phone? Come in before you & the (favorite hot comfort food) gets cold!” The cheer and warmth in his voice beckoned to you. As you pried your eyes away from your phone it remained in your hand. You dashed towards the door to greet him and hand him the wine you’d bought for him. You knew it was customary to treat your host with a nice gift of sorts when you visited them.

You were glad to see Tino. You needed him to help you stave off he rabid thoughts that the earned to devour you.

“Thanks Y/N. I have some cute bunny slippers for you. Now you can really be cozy whenever you’re at my home.” He exidely hands you the soft slippers with large ears that pointed up to 90 degrees. The beady eyes had a pristine shine to them.

“You’re too sweet thanks Tino.~” You slipped them on immediately after you took your shoes off. The plushy fabric supported you as you followed him inside. Something about being in Tino’s home always put you at ease. Tino swiftly grabs your hand and rushes to the dining room. He was eager to show you the elaborate brunch spread he’d made.

It was decorated with cookies, danishes, munkki (donut thing) & Lakiaispulla.

“Wow this looks amazing!”

“Well you did just do something amazing. You finally published your book you’d been working on for a few years now!”

He’ll pamper you in sweet ways for the entire weekend. He will have loosely made plans than can be flexible depending on your mood. Things like going to all the best small cafés, museums and hidden places that only he knows about.

Of course you’ll be taken to the sauna so the tension from your nerves can be eased. He will give you soothing massages to boot.

“Can’t write well if your back is all bent out of shape!”

While indulging in the epic spread that he’s crafted you’ll find yourself getting lost on the train viewing broadcasts that are popular in Finland. From the beautiful bustling cities of Finland that looked like an iridescent daydreams come to life to the lush forests with peaceful wildlife you couldn’t help but soak in the tranquility of this life. You allowed to to engulf your senses. Your notifications blaring from your phone brought you back into your more chaotic reality.

‘Did they hate what you wrote?’

‘Was all that was there absolute nonsense?’

The questions began to buzz in your mind like bees beginning to wake from a winter slumber. Your heart pace picked up and you’d stopped responding to Tino when he asked you about….

“Y/N!” His voice cut through the loud buzzing in your ears. You weren’t accustomed to him raising his voice in such a manner. You braced yourself for a more intensive outburst. That fear was extinguished when you felt him remove some of the hair that had fallen onto your face. Tino placed a supportive hand on your shoulder.

“Y\N want to talk about it over a drink?” His sweet smile was reassuring. It acted as an intoxicating smoke that soothed the bees eating away at your ears filled with doubt. Tino knows that you’re stressed and will listen to your woes about writing a book about loss. Pouring out your soul was no easy task. To put it out there for others to judge was on a whole other level of vulnerable. He wanted to help you carry the hefty burdens of the heart.

“Yes, let’s Tino.”

🇪🇸 Spain 🇪🇸

He’s simply excited that you’d managed to publish your book despite all the hell you had to go through in order to do so. The plethora of late nights, numerous meetings with your editor, you even consulted a few behavioral therapist and ones that specialized in grief management assisted you in producing your narrative in a constructive manner. You were meticulous in how you crafted your narrative.

Antonio for awhile believed that you’d been forced to take extra work at your daytime job for awhile. He’d always swung by your apartment to see if you wanted to have a late lunch/ early dinner or have an extended siesta relaxing in the sun. At first he wasn’t concerned when you declined to hang out with him the first few times. His worry began when you’d avoided him for 4 months straight.

Sweat was pouring down his temples when he reached your door. Had you been in the middle of a major crisis and he simply failed to notice? Why had you not come to him? Questions like this swirled in his mind until you answered the door to let him in.

“Antonio?” You say in a groggy voice.

“Y/N!” He practically tackled you off the ground. He kept you standing inches away from your carpeted floor. His strong calves, back, and arms he developed from his many nights of salsa dancing to bull wrangling bulls, his well maintained body steadied yours in midair. You were light as a feather. As his brilliant shimmering greens connected to yours he saw the bags that had formed under your eyes. He noticed that your skill was missing its usual bright glow. He also felt that you were lighter than you should have been.

“Mi amigo(o)… ¿Qué paso? (My friend what happened?)

He removed some of the hair that had flown into your eyes during your dissent to the ground.

“I’ve finally sent off my completed manuscript to my publisher.” You say in an exhausted tone. You’d been up for the past 48 hours in order to meet your deadline.

Antonio playfully picks you up bridal style and carries you back into your apartment.

“Come! Let me make you breakfast with churros. It’s time to celebrate!” His intoxicating sunshine spread warmth and energy through your body and soul. You needed this after being in the frigid depths of your soul collecting fragments of pain, tears, and shells of your former selves to gain insight and perspective. The journey to the emotional depths below left you exhausted and burning low.

“It must have been a long trip exploring the dark parts of your soul huh Y\N?”

He’s going to want to make sure you have nothing but food, fun, and relaxation. There was no better place to do that than Donostia-San Sebastian. The picturesque beaches, blue skies, and magical city that had bright lavender stars that twinkled at night. Prepare to have the best red wine from La Rioja region and all the best food from the Pintxo tours. What a better way to shake your sorrows than with food and booze.

Antonio popped in one of his breakfast churros as he patiently waited for you to pick your pinchos for the evening. He adored the way life flooded back into your (color) eyes as you gleefully sipped on some Txakoli wine. It was sweet and refreshing just like this whole impromptu trip for you to celebrate the completion of your book. He looked at the small bites that he’d like to share with you just in case there was something you hadn’t tried yet.

“How does it feel?”

“To be done? Amazing. I didn’t actually think I was going to get it done. All things considered… and with all the obstacles in my way… I never thought I would have…”

“The ability to do amazing things? Like have your book be on top 10 trending?” He shows you his phone on one of the top book vendor websites and your book managed to steal the #8 spot.

You chuckle as his big goofy grin. It soon changed into a bright toothy smile that was carved from proclean made from the God of the sun.

A smile reaches your own face when you realize that you had solid confirmation that your suffering was paying off.

For the longest time you’d been wading through the open sea. The intense feelings of grief you sifted through without a paddle. It had been chucked away as your heart inter-mingled with the familiar feelings of desperation, despair, and being agonized and eaten alive by feelings of inadequacy.

Antonio boooed your nose to bring you back to the present shoreline with him. Your bubble of loneliness had busted by the fresh Txangurro that was quickly approaching your lips. The crisp cool delicate crab meat tantalized your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but allow your senses to be soothed by the sensational food from the sea.

“You’re cute when you’ve had a chance to relax.” He poked at your cheek as you chewed. You weren’t able to hid your blush that rushed across your face like a raging wildfire.

“Thanks.” You smile at him in return.

#hetalia #hetalia fandom #hws #hetalia x reader #hetalia fluff #x reader #hws spain #hws finland #hws denmark #hetalia fanfiction writer #hetalia fanfiction writers #ヘタリア world stars #ヘタリア #headingalaxys #headingalaxys sweet #headingalaxys writes stuff

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Countdown to MegFlix

Who would have thought that many of the "theories" we heard about Meghan Markle would sooner or later turn out to be true? I realize that there are a handful of you "OG" Tumblr bloggers who "called it" from the beginning, but honestly I'm still shocked.

I distinctly remember the moment when I laughed out loud at a breaking news report (via my radio) that Prince Harry was dating an American actress (a name I'd never heard) and she was hopping on a flight to the UK blah blah... I laughed and said to myself, "...American actress, I don't think so!"

Then there was the engagement announcement/interview. I exercised my right to free speech in the comments section on YouTube by sharing that they seemed "fake/artificial" because authentic couples just don't need to claw and paw one another like that in public. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I felt they were trying too hard to sell the relationship. The blow back for my dissenting comment was swift. I was warned that Prince Harry was reading and reporting every critical comment. I thought, "grow up!" Slowly but surely a few content creators began to point out the crimson red flags flying in that interview . I commented on one creator's video that the entire relationship seemed fake, to which the content creator replied, "it's a fraud, we just don't know why." That video, like so many videos and websites (created by people who intimately knew her), was swiftly removed.

I typically don't follow celebrity culture, so I couldn't figure out why I was motivated to do my own research on this unknown woman. I have long respected the BRF, but I also think it was the loss of my mother during my own childhood that created a sense of genuine concern for the family. I now realize that she triggered those of us who have experienced even the smallest doses of narcissist abuse.

Meghan and Harry have made many mistakes, but if I had to pick 1 major miscalculation--- it was their juvenile obsession with the everyday critic. We were not allowed to dislike Meghan Markle, period. If we expressed our dislike about anything related to Meghan Markle, we were categorized as "haters who must be de-platformed and destroyed."

Little Meg never learned that people are allowed to reject her and also to reject anything and anyone she offers to the world. No one can be made to like a person, including the unlikeable actress named Rachel Meghan Markle.

Meghan's inability to tolerate criticism and her use of brass knuckle "PR tactics" of intimidation and bullying (including doxing innocent people in the Daily Mail) only caused critics to become more outspoken and more creative in the exercise of free speech rights that Harry deemed "bonkers."

There is still so much more to their "story" that just doesn't quite add up. Tomorrow we will get the final tranche of Meghan's slickly produced clapback-gram. This lady definitely doth protest too much.

Harry's having a ball in materialistic California and Meghan is living her best life pretending to be a Disney princess named CopyKate. She must have a book of Catherine photos that she uses like carbon paper to plan out her own photo and video shoots. Imitation might typically be the highest form of flattery, but Meghan crossed the line between the sane and insane a long time ago. It's now apparent to the entire world that she doesn't know the difference between fantasy and lies.

The Hollywood and political backers egging them on are not friends. Sure they can provide shelter, "character references," a few gigs, even business loans, but the world still has a right to critically analyze the product and reject it. Meghan has been resoundingly rejected on the world's stage, but she will never change because she will never accept that her harddrive is defective. Unless she's prepared to accept that she has psychological problems that include narcissist sociopathies, it will always be more of this:

If only she had the discipline and integrity to go far away and be very quiet, return all the titles, and live her life attached to the only title that (supposedly) matters to her. Unfortunately we are about to be invaded with markle social media campaigns because she's an image addict. She'll never learn that everyday people are not like her. We understand that Instagram and Hollywood are NOT real life. No matter who you marry or what kind of cosmetics you choose to wear, a new name or brand names only serve to amplify the unlikeable personality.

So, as we reach yet another major turning point in the destiny of this duo, I'd like to document a few things we once "heard" from someone (a male friend) close to their megxit. We may never confirm or deny, but it's still a thought provoking list:

1-He (Harry) is her (Meghan) victim.

2-The UK surrogate did not want to release her custody privileges. (Who could blame her?)

3-They don't have a "traditional" marriage but they are together.

4-Harry is with Meghan in her efforts to hurt his family. They are united in these efforts.

5-Harry needs the hard fall.

6-He is trying to get her set up in California.

Let it never be forgotten that Meghan Markle threatened to murder Harry's baby in retaliation for the humiliation she suffered at Royal Albert Hall through a public booing, followed by Harry's refusal to hold her hand at the exact moment she felt needy.

From the Comment Section:

#meghan markle #prince harry #revenge #tom bower #sussex

[sw1mmingfoolz]

🌻 sunflower sheets, sunshine boy - lee donghyuck🌻

requested? Y/N

genre: pre-established best friends to lovers, only one bed, fluff, mentioned mark lee being a lil shit, honestly very self indulgent lmao

content warnings: implied past abuse (it isn't discussed, also pre-established), reader has a lil nightmare

pairing: haechan x gn! reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: i have SO many WIPs going atm and the motivation to actually write none of them, so i apparently wrote this instead. the only one bed scenario is something that actually happened to me (it did not go this way though i didn't really like the dude we were both just drunk so we shared a mattress lmao. he sucked.) and this all came to me after a nightmare of my own past abuser so this is just self indulgent garbage really lmaooo :') as always feedback is super appreciated even if this is just a lil vignette kinda oneshot! much love to you all mwah mwah 💞💞

You cursed whatever deities may exist for your current predicament as the warmth from Donghyuck's torso radiated over your back. Well, more specifically, you supposed you cursed Mark Lee and his horrendously obvious attempts at matchmaking; a lone double bed made fresh with sunflower patterned linens that emanated a faint lemony scent sat in the small attic of his family home and the other beds somehow already claimed before everyone had gone over to celebrate his birthday. For whatever reason, Donghyuck hadn't seemed to find it suspicious that you and he were the only ones who hadn't been asked where you'd prefer to sleep the week prior. Or if he had, he hadn't mentioned it, simply shooting you a lopsided smile and informing you with a smirk that he sleeps shirtless before accepting the arrangements without question.

And so here you were, rolling to lie on your back and stare at the ceiling, where in the dark your brain conjured warping patterns that didn't exist as if trying to distract you from your racing thoughts. A small square of moonlight bathed golden skin next to you, filtering through the window on the roof like a spotlight. Donghyuck let out a small snore and you wondered how on earth he was able to sleep so easily like this, his feet grazing yours under the sprawling duvet and his face smushed unceremoniously into the pillow he'd claimed for his own. The trees rustled outside in the audible breeze, a sound that would lull you into peaceful dreams any other time. Yet you'd never felt more awake in your life than you did at that moment.

You hadn't exactly protested yourself; in fact you knew Mark would be awaiting your exuberant thanks for giving you such an opportunity with a man only he knew you to have had a silent crush on for years by that point. But you were far too stubborn to actually admit that his plan was pretty decent. You knew if you'd dissented he would have found other sleeping arrangements for you without complaint, but his smugness had almost felt like a challenge, and you were adamant you’d never lose a challenge to Mark of all people.

You and Donghyuck had been best friends for longer than you could even remember—he'd seen so many of your triumphs and losses, your highs and lows, the big moments in your life and the little ones you didn't even know if he remembered and treasured the way you did—and far be it from you to threaten a connection you weren't sure you'd find again if you lost him. Your heart raced and you prayed it didn't cut through the silence in actuality the way it consumed your sense of hearing, pulse thrumming in your ears like a kick drum. After probably too many minutes of being definitely too aware of the process of breathing, Donghyuck stirred with a small groan and turned to face you.

"Can't sleep?" He asked groggily, rubbing at his sleep laden eyes with a clumsy fist before looking up at you through heavy eyelashes.

"No," you responded simply, voice coming out as more of a hoarse whisper than you'd intended. He nodded, and you heard it against the fabric of the pillowcase. A weighted silence followed briefly, the air weirdly stuffy, and you felt like you were fighting for breath. You eventually looked over to find him watching your face, contemplative, as if studying every detail for the first time.

"Do you wanna, like, cuddle or something?" You blinked at him, amazed as always at the way he was able to be so bold as if it were no big deal. He threw the suggestion out so casually that it threw you off. If it were any of your other friends you would have laughed, joked about it and probably accepted because of the comfort the contact provided, but in your lovesick state you found yourself entirely frozen where you laid.

"Um," you faltered, biting the inside of your cheek. He exhaled through his nose, a somewhat-laugh quiet enough to be appropriate for the time of night, and smiled up at you, though you didn't feel strong enough to look at said smile for more than a few seconds. Truly dazzling, you thought.

"It was a totally good-natured suggestion," he clarified, feet nudging yours again but more purposefully this time. He resisted the urge to intertwine his legs with yours fully and moved his hair from where it had fallen in front of his tired eyes, still looking at you with more focus than you felt you desired. "Since I know you like the touch and it might help you sleep. There's no pressure, you can say no." You smiled at him, grateful for the way he offered you an out so considerately, but you then realised this wasn't a situation you were in often. And, in your humble opinion, if there were any time to indulge in such timid desires, it totally would be at buttfuck o'clock in the morning with your entire friend group a floor below.

"Sure." His eyes widened slightly; he obviously didn't expect you to agree, but his expression quickly softened when he noticed you falter. Before you could change your mind or stutter out a nervous string of "but only if you wanna!" adjacent sentences, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. As if on instinct, your fingers tried to ball into his shirt; however in its absence it looked more like you were trying to pinch at his chest. It made him laugh heartily, your face heating up, though he appeared to think the teasing was best saved for later as he bit his tongue and adjusted his arm to lie under your neck.

"Comfy?" He asked gently, breath hot on your ear before he nuzzled his chin against your head. You nodded the best you could, nudging further into his neck as you let his warmth consume you. He let himself slip a little further, tangling his legs with yours just a bit to see if you’d back away and feeling his heart swell when you intertwined them further. His other arm rested loosely over your waist, steady breathing inspiring yours to mimic, and before you could even realise how tired you were the security his presence offered you finally lured you to sleep.

The peace apparently didn't want to linger, however, as only an hour later Donghyuck awoke again to you trembling in his hold. He looked down at you blearily as your hand clutched at his side and your breathing staggered. He took a moment to come to and realise what was happening before shaking you gently to wake you up.

It happened with a start, your breath catching dramatically in your throat as your eyes blew wide. He shushed you gently, one hand stroking through your hair, as you silently searched his face with frantic pupils. They weren't looking for anything in particular; just the familiarity your heart apparently craved, your brain fighting to come back to reality fully and shake the remnants of the nightmare that plagued you.

"Are you okay?" His voice was so quiet it was barely audible, hand ceaseless in its careful motions. "Seemed like you were having a bad dream."

"Yeah," you whispered unsteadily, suddenly aware of the hand with which you held onto his side like you were scared he'd vanish from under it. He hummed in understanding, tightening his hold a little.

"Was it about who I think it was?"

"Yeah," you repeated, still too internally distressed to show any real outward emotions the way you wanted to. "They're less frequent these days, but y'know." He hummed again, hand dropping to draw comforting circles into the skin of your hip and bring you back a little.

"Just try to focus on me," he murmured, still obviously sleepy. You nodded, doing your best to divert every conscious thought you had to his movements, his breathing, his very presence; and after a few moments you felt grounded enough to actually form sentences.

"You always know how to help," you laughed drily, voice low. You knew your friends couldn't hear you; even beyond the floor difference they were all insanely heavy sleepers, to the point you'd think they never slept a day in their life. Donghyuck giggled against your hair, more high pitched than he'd like, and manoeuvred you both so that he was lying on his back with your head resting on his chest. His heartbeat was steady against your cheek, and his hold remained tight. "What time is it?"

"I dunno, like, four in the morning?" He shrugged at his own estimate, phone too far on the nightstand for him to bother finding out. "Why?"

"Because." Your insecurity leaked through into your mumbles but you couldn't find it in you to care, knowing beyond your own mild discombobulation that Donghyuck was not all there himself. "I just think early morning hours are the time to be vulnerable."

"True." He stared at the ceiling, thumb massaging your shoulder absentmindedly. "Why, did you wanna talk about it?"

You took a deeper breath to try and steady yourself before snuggling into the crook of his neck. "I just think I had that nightmare because I'm sleeping with you."

"That sounds like something I should be offended by," he chuckled breathily. "Why me?"

"I mean. Being helplessly in love with you complicates a lot of things." You'd spoken before you could allow yourself to hesitate, though now that the words were out there and his body had stiffened beneath you regret started flooding your nerves, burning them like an electrical current under water.

"What?"

"You heard me," you pouted, growing more self-conscious by the second.

"Just wanted to make sure I heard you right." Another tense silence followed, one that made your ears ring and your chest flutter. "What does that have to do with the nightmare?"

"I dunno, just. The usual shit, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and all that stuff again. It's scary at the best of times, even without everything that happened with Hyunwoo." You hated the way your tongue felt jammed, unable to express the fear that festered like rot in the bottom of your heart. It was pervasive, parasitic almost, something you struggled to cast out even if you had reduced its impact greatly in the years since you'd escaped. You looked up to find him watching you yet again, expression fond and curious. "You can do a lot of work," you tried, brows furrowed as you searched for the words. "You help yourself as much as you can, you do the therapy, you get better at functioning, all that stuff." He nodded, entirely attentive and patient, giving you the odd encouraging squeeze around your shoulders. He could tell you'd been wanting to get this all off your chest for a while.

"You've come a really long way since then, we're all proud of you," he smiled when you hesitated, wary of interrupting but not wanting to lose the moment to tell you. While Donghyuck was one to poke fun a lot—one to be sarcastic, one to make constant jokes—he was also always the first to compliment you and encourage you, a balance you were always thankful to have in your life.

"Thank you," you grinned, continuing. "But it doesn't matter how much work you do when you meet someone you fall for because you kinda have to accept that there's a whole other kind of shit under the surface that you can't unpack on your own, and you have to hope the person you've found sees all that and tells you ‘it's okay’ while you figure your shit out together."

"Everyone has their own baggage." You sat up a little to look at his thoughtful expression, moonlight shimmering on his soft features. After a moment of intense eye contact, he broke the silence with a serene smile. "Hey Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay." You stared at him for a moment, his words running laps around your own in your brain, the simplest kind of acceptance that seemed to short circuit you as your heart swelled. "And hey, I’m pretty in love with you too, so maybe you're not that hopeless."

"Is my want to kiss you right now equally as not hopeless?" You asked somewhat clumsily, grin mischievous. He took a moment to gawk at you being the bold one for a change before smirking, shaking his head.

"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it."

You stared at him for a while longer, his gaze unwaveringly confident, and in sensing your slight hesitation he chuckled complacently before being the one to take the dive. You weren’t sure if it was the time of morning or the rawness in vulnerability that made you feel slightly delirious, head spinning as your mind took a second to catch up. The feeling of his lips on yours was unfamiliar but far from unwelcome, the warmth he radiated spreading like fire from the legs that twined together to the cheeks he cradled so tenderly. He smiled against your lips, breaking the kiss with a slightly bashful laugh, and you swear you saw galaxies in his eyes with the way he looked at you.

“What are you laughing at?” You watched him bewilderedly, the pull of his lips increasingly adoring as he pulled your head back to his neck and rocked you in his arms with another childish giggle.

“I’ve just wanted to do that for longer than you know.” His voice was angelic and light, like chimes in the wind, making you smirk against his collarbones. “It’s okay,” he repeated in a gaily hum, hold on you safe and reassuring. “We’ll get through anything, together.”

tell me what you thought? | masterlist

#ficscafe #kflixnet #nct #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct dream #nct 127 #nct u #nct fluff #nct drabble #nct scenarios #nct imagines #haechan fluff #haechan drabble #haechan scenarios #haechan imagine

[ridenwithbiden]

It’s often said that Donald Trump has a cultlike following. But that’s far too benign. “Star Wars” has a cultlike following. Taylor Swift has her cult of “Swifties.” A political organization that has no platform other than loyalty to the leader is not a cult, it’s an autocratic movement.

The tragicomic chaos in the House in the last week is the natural result of a political party that has lived under Trump’s thumb. It should end any pretense that the current Republican Party is a serious governing party.

As Hannah Arendt wrote in “The Origins of Totalitarianism”: “Total loyalty is possible only when fidelity is emptied of all concrete content, from which changes of mind might naturally arise. The totalitarian movements, each in its own way, have done their utmost to get rid of the party programs which specified concrete content and which they inherited from earlier, non‑totalitarian stages of development.”

It seems like another time in another galaxy, but not that long ago there actually was some ideological diversity within the Republican Party.

In 1966, Time ran a cover story highlighting the winners of the 1966 midterm elections as a “Republican Resurgence,” after the Goldwater defeat of 1964. Time’s editors selected six Republicans as being emblematic of this rebirth: California Gov. Ronald Reagan, Michigan Gov. George Romney, Illinois Sen. Charles Percy, Oregon Sen. Mark Hatfield, Massachusetts Sen. Edward Brooke and New York Gov. Nelson Rockefeller.

The six governors and senators had differences of opinion on almost all major issues. Hatfield, deeply influenced by his service in World War II, never voted for a bill to authorize U.S. military engagement. He was one of only two Republican senators who voted against the 1991 Gulf War.

With Sen. George McGovern, Hatfield co-sponsored 1971 legislation calling for a complete withdrawal from Vietnam. Reagan, on the other hand, was consistently supportive of the Vietnam War and campaigned against the creation of Medicaid.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, the Republican governors who were pro-choice governed states with a larger collective population than the Republican antiabortion governors. Bill Weld of Massachusetts, Pennsylvania’s Tom Ridge, Arnold Schwarzenegger in California and New York’s George Pataki all were proudly pro-choice.

Today, there are no Republican governors who support abortion rights, and many are actively working to criminalize abortions in their states. The Republican Party three decades ago was overwhelmingly a white-dominated party, but it allowed for at least some dissent and disagreement.

While it is difficult to attribute any deliberate or methodical plan to Donald Trump, whose mind operates like an old-fashioned pinball machine on tilt, his basic antidemocratic, strongman instincts have crushed dissent in the Republican Party, empowering the underlying authoritarian impulses within the party. A once-center-right political party with core ideological principles is now marching toward the formation of an autocratic state.

It’s possible that Trump will not be the Republican nominee in 2024, but his success in molding the party to his image ensures that anyone who wins will continue down an authoritarian path.

When Ron DeSantis ran for governor of Florida in 2018, he aired a commercial showing his toddler daughter building a border wall with toy blocks, followed by a shot of him holding his infant son and reading from a book, “Then Mr. Trump said, ‘You’re fired.’” His wife also appeared in the ad, saying, “People say Ron is all Trump, but he is so much more.”

What’s unfolding in the Republican Party is an inevitable step in the cycle of authoritarian movements. What once was deemed sufficiently pure is judged to be inadequate and in need of purging.

The Night of the Long Knives, the murder of Leon Trotsky, the Red Guards, the Khmer Rouge — each was the result of a radical movement further purifying its core membership and ideology, and something very similar is taking place among today’s Republicans.

When Trump emerged in 2015, he was initially rejected by Republican voters. In May 2015, Donald Trump polled at 3% among Republicans and Republican-leaning independent voters. While it’s not unusual for a new and still-unknown candidate to start with a low number, Trump had almost a 100% name recognition among potential voters.

Republicans knew who he was; they just didn’t like him. A May 2015 Washington Post–ABC News poll found that just over 20% of Republicans viewed Trump favorably. By early December 2015 — and after his attack on John McCain’s war record, his mocking of a disabled reporter and his calling for a Muslim ban — Trump had surged to his largest lead during the Republican primary, opening up a 35%-to-16% margin over Ted Cruz.

Jeb Bush, who led the field in early polling, was by then at the same 3% level of support that Trump had in May. The media coverage of Trump’s rise evidenced an unwillingness to grasp Trump’s appeal. “Donald Trump Leads Florida Polls, Despite Call for Muslim Travel Ban” was the headline in the New Times Broward–Palm Beach. “Trump Poll Surge Continues Despite Backlash Over Muslim Ban,” trumpeted the Dec. 10, 2015, broadcast of Voice of America News.

This was like reporting that Jim Beam sold a lot of bourbon even though it contained alcohol. Trump was rising with Republican voters because of his racism and religious bigotry.

There was no backlash with the majority of Republican primary voters. The exact opposite was occurring. Trump’s hate was creating a surge of appeal.

Donald Trump understood the true nature of the Republican Party better than the party’s leaders. “This suggestion is completely and totally inconsistent with American values,” then-Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said as he denounced Trump’s proposed Muslim ban. “I do not think it is reflective of our principles, not just as a party but as a country,” then-House Speaker Paul Ryan said of the ban.

But it was his call for a Muslim ban that helped Trump clinch the 2016 nomination. McConnell and Ryan and the establishment donor class of the Republican Party would never admit publicly that the xenophobia and racism that appealed to Trump voters were far more motivating to Republican voters than the small-government, low-taxes, constitutionally conservative so‑called “values” they insisted were the true core of the party.

But their commitment to their deeply held beliefs was so weak that they now supported a man who bragged he was “the king of debt,” refused to release his tax returns to show he even paid taxes and whose Muslim ban was a religious test that was anathema to constitutional principles.

They didn’t care about anything but remaining in power, and they thought they could use Trump while controlling him.

There is a childlike need for many Republicans in what was once “the establishment” to believe that the Trump years were some aberration, that the party was “hijacked” by Donald Trump. The problem with this is that the passengers on the hijacked plane do not cheer for the terrorist. But in the Republican Party, the hijacker is the most popular person on the plane.

Trump and Trumpism dominate the Republican Party because he represents what the Republican Party wants to be. There is no “normal” for the party to return to. It is an autocratic movement, not a traditional American political party. To believe this movement cannot win and end democracy as we know it would be as dangerously naive as thinking that the Donald Trump who announced his candidacy in 2015 with 3% of support within the party could never be elected president.

None of us can choose history, but history can choose us. The fate of the American experiment is in our hands. America or Trump? The next 13 months will decide our future.

Stuart Stevens is an advisor to the Lincoln Project, a political consultant and the author of several books. This article is an adapted excerpt from his latest book, “The Conspiracy to End America: Five Ways My Old Party Is Driving Our Democracy to Autocracy,” which will be published Oct. 10.

[satoshi-mochida]

Persona 5 Tactica details Yoshiki Kingdom, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, battle techniques, enemies, difficulty settings, Persona fusion, and day one DLC

Gematsu Source

ATLUS has released new information and screenshots for Persona 5 Tactica introducing more about the Yoshiki Kingdom; characters Yusuke Kitagawa, Makoto Niijima, Futaba Sakura, and Haru Okumura; battle techniques, enemies, and difficulty settings; Persona fusion and Lavenza; and day one downloadable content featuring Goro Akechi and Kasumi Yoshizawa.

Get the details below.

■ Yoshiki Kingdom

A stark contrast from the French Revolution vibe of Marie’s Kingdom, The Phantom Thieves and Erina now find themselves in a Kingdom reminiscent of mid-1800s Japan.

Before they can even catch their breath, the Phantom Thieves see a woman in crisis. While they successfully save her, they become wanted criminals in the process. According to Yuki, the woman they saved, the Kingdom’s ruler, Yoshiki, is seen as a moral and loving leader, but she claims this is only a façade.

In truth, Kingdom citizens are subject to constant surveillance, excused by a need to watch over the citizens. Anyone who shows a whiff of dissent towards Yoshiki is captured immediately and taken away to perform labor under force.

Joker and the team decide to stand up to Yoshiki. To do so, they must free the imprisoned citizens in military posts throughout the Kingdom.

To avoid the watchful eye of Yoshiki’s Legionnaires, who he calls the Aizen Squad, the Phantom Thieves are led by Yuki to a local kimono shop.

After disguising as samurai, geisha, and other citizens, the team decides to enact Toshiro’s diversionary strategy so as to escape with the imprisoned citizens unharmed.

While the team’s plan is successful, their joy is short-lived. Yoshiki descends from the sky, his serene demeanor now replaced with a terrifying rage. Now the Phantom Thieves and friends will face the full might of this Kingdom’s ruler.

■ Characters

Yusuke Kitagawa (voiced by Matthew Mercer in English, Tomokazu Sugita in Japanese)

A second-year art student from Kosei High School, well known for his artwork. Although his trusted mentor used to take advantage of those skills, once Yusuke met the Phantom Thieves, he finds the strength to stand up to his mentor. In the process he awakens to his Persona and joins the Phantom Thieves. Although his good looks often draw the attention of others, because of his artistic inclinations, his behavior is eccentric enough to be off-putting to some people. His Persona is Goemon.

Makoto Niijima (voiced by Cherami Leigh in English, Rina Sato in Japanese)

A third-year student and the class president of Shujin Academy. Influenced by her strict sister, she always felt she had to be a responsible student. She used to be a floormat to the staff at her school, but after breaking out of her shell, she awakens her Persona and joins the Phantom Thieves. She assumes the role of the reliable, older sister in the group, and is a physical brawler who uses her fists to fight in battle, which can make her scary sometimes. Her Persona is Johanna.

Futaba Sakura (voiced by Erica Lindbeck in English, Aoi Yuuki in Japanese)

A genius hacker who, at one point, grabbed the attention of the world. She initially lived a life of recluse, as adults around her made her believe she caused her own mother’s death. Although she initially struggled with social interactions and talking to people face-to-face, by regaining her true memories, she awakens her Persona. In the Phantom Thieves, she provides a navigator role, supporting her teammates from the sidelines. Her Persona is Necronomicon.

Haru Okumura (voiced by Xanthe Huynh in English, Haruka Tomatsu in Japanese)

The daughter of the CEO of Okumura Foods, a large fast-food chain. At one point, she was forced into an arranged marriage agreement from her father, and she wasn’t free to live as she chose. After awakening to her Persona, she finds the courage to stand up to her father. In the process, she loses him, but continues the fight after overcoming her grief. Although she is gentle and well-mannered, she’s can also be a bit scary at times. Her Persona is Milady.

■ Character Swapping

During your turn, you can switch between the three active party members whenever you desire.

Until you finalize your actions, you can switch between characters and experiment with their positions, so take your time making your decisions.

Switching between characters is vital to setting up the all-out attack called a Triple Threat!

This can turn the tide of battle in your favor, or even finish it in one fell swoop!

■ Strike Down Enemies

In this title, standing at a higher level yields certain advantages. Strike down enemies with melee attacks to knock them down!

In addition, if you knock an enemy toward a party member, you can trigger follow-up attacks! Aside from additional damage, these can even provide extra turns. Keep these in mind when strategizing!

Before you knock down an enemy, try to position a party member nearby! Keep an eye out for the FOLLOW! icon! This will allow you to trigger a follow up attack! And CRITICAL score! An Extra Turn is activated!

■ A Diverse Range of Enemies

Aside from the standard ranks of Marie’s Legionnaires known as Musketeers, enemies like Grenadiers, who strike back immediately when attacked, and Drummers, who use buffs and healing skills, also await you.

Charge into battle without a plan and they’ll make you regret it!

—Musketeers specialize in ranged fire.

—Grenadiers excel in melee, and leap at any attackers.

—Drummers aren’t a threat alone, but with their healing and buffing skills, they make for challenging groups.

■ Difficulty Settings

If your party member’s HP reaches 0 during a battle, don’t lose hope—you can immediately Baton Pass to someone else in your reserves!

There are also five difficulty settings that can be changed at any time. If you’re struggling with a certain fight, or if the battles feel too easy, try changing the difficulty!

Even when your HP is 0, you can swap between non-active party members. Always keep an eye out for Baton Passes!

Difficulty levels include Safety, Easy, Normal, Hard, and Risky.

■ Persona Fusions

The Velvet Room resident of this game is Lavenza, now dressed as a blacksmith! Experiment with Persona fusion in an all-new industrial setting!

Fuse Personas obtained in battle to power them up!

Lavenza (voiced by Carrie Keranen in English, Aki Toyosaki in Japanese)

A resident of the Velvet Room in the form of a young girl. She possesses the role of assisting and watching over the protagonist. She is polite, a hard worker, and sometimes eccentric. In the story of Persona 5 Tactica, she wears a blacksmith outfit and is in charge of Persona fusion in the smithy-esque Velvet Room.

■ Downloadable Content

◆ Repaint Your Heart Challenge Pack

Release Date: November 17, 2023

Price: 1,690 yen (western pricing to be announced)

▲ Story

Goro Akechi and Kasumi Yoshizawa appear in the downloadable content! Uncover the truth behind the strange Arsene graffiti and the mysterious artist Guernica!

Guernica, a pseudonymous street artist, somehow creates enormous murals without being spotted, let alone caught.

As the world buzzes about this bold artistic activity, strange graffiti begin appearing in the city. Among those is a concerning rendition of Arsene, something only Persona users would know…

Joker heads to the scene after receiving a call from Kasumi, which leads to a chance encounter with Akechi Goro. Joker then hears a strange voice call out:

“Phantom Thieves of Hearts… I need your help…”

▲ Characters

Goro Akechi (voiced by Robbie Daymond in English, Souichirou Hoshi in Japanese)

A third-year high school student and detective. He has solved numerous cases and has built a reputation even among professional investigators. With his sharp intellect, amiable personality, and good looks, it’s no wonder people pay attention to what he does. With frequent media appearances, his fans tout him as the second coming of the Detective Prince. In his pursuit of the Phantom Thieves, a certain incident triggers him to cooperate with them. His Persona is Robin Hood.

Kasumi Yoshizawa (voiced by Laura Post in English, Sora Amamiyain Japanese)

A beautiful junior student, admitted to Shujin Academy the same year the Protagonist transfers. With an excellent track record in gymnastics since middle school, the Academy has high hopes for her athletic career. Her Persona is Cendrillon.

◆ Summons Pack: Picaro Personas and Raoul

Release Date: November 17, 2023

Price: 1,390 yen (western pricing to be announced)

The set includes:

Persona: Thanatos Picaro

Persona: Orpheus (f) Picaro

Persona: Athena Picaro

Persona: Messiah Picaro

Persona: Izanagi-no-Okami Picaro

Persona: Magatsu-Izanagi Picaro

Persona: Kaguya Hime Picaro

Persona: Ariadne Picaro

Persona: Asterius Picaro

Persona: Tsukuyomi Picaro

Persona: Raoul

◆ Weapons Pack: Enemy Series

Release Date: November 17, 2023

Price: 990 yen (western pricing to be announced)

The set includes:

Enemy’s Sand Hawk

Enemy’s Levinson M31

Enemy’s Slingbow

Enemy’s Machine Gun

Enemy’s AR

Enemy’s Revolver

Enemy’s G-Launcher

Enemy’s Machine Pistol

Enemy’s Mevius

Enemy’s Roosevelt

◆ Downloadable Content All-In-One Pack

Release Date: November 17, 2023

Price: 3,960 yen (western pricing to be announced)

The set includes:

Episode: Repaint Your Heart Challenge Pack

Summons Pack: Picaro Personas and Raoul

Weapons Pack: Enemy Series

Persona 5 Tactica is due out for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Switch, and PC via Steam on November 17 worldwide. It will also be available via Xbox Game Pass. Read more about the game here and here.

View the screenshots at the gallery.

#Persona 5 Tactica #Persona 5 #Persona Series #Atlus #SRPG #Gematsu #Chill with the DLC Atlus. =U

[spacesquidlings]

The Reason Why Noah is Scheming

Raeliana is just about fed up with Noah's overbearing behaviour since the moment they knew she was pregnant. She is perfectly capable of caring for herself and living her life just as she did before their baby. Noah, however, is not so sure. And yet despite his usual dissent, he's the one proposing they have a fun-filled day out. What could he possibly be planning?

Pairing: Raeliana McMillan x Noah Wyknight

Warnings: Some implied suggestive content

Notes: This is currently one of my most favourite stories!!!! I adore Raeliana and Noah so much I was inconsolable when I finished the manhwa. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I did writing it!!!!

*******************************************

“I’m fine, I am more than capable of walking on my own feet!”

Raeliana’s shouts echoed through the high-ceiled halls as she marched through the mansion. Her feet did, in fact, hurt, but she wasn’t about to admit that. They had swelled so much she couldn’t fit into any of her old shoes, and numerous new shoes had needed to be purchased.

She’d needed new dresses too, new everything, and she felt a little like a whale, or perhaps an overweight penguin, waddling down the halls in so much fabric with her swollen belly.

She laid a hand on her stomach, rolling her shoulders as she paused for a moment, leaning against a window looking out over the gardens. It was late autumn, the air cool enough that frost gathered on the windows, making the grass sparkle in the early morning before the sun melted it away.

And yet she was so unbearably hot she had already started sweating despite only walking for a few moments at most.

And her feet really were starting to hurt, and her lower back was aching, the weight in her belly putting pressure on her back as she struggled to stay up.

Raeliana struggled to rub the small of her back, the pain nearly overwhelming there. But the sound of footsteps made her pause in her vain efforts to find relief, and she started moving again, determined to at least make it into the gardens.

She’d wanted a walk, all she had wanted was a short walk through the garden. To walk past the trees whose branches were alight with the colours of autumn, to feel leaves crunching beneath her feet, to feel the crisp wind on her cheeks and in her hair. She had wanted to take a look at the flowers still in bloom, wanted to sit beneath one of the trees and close her eyes and breathe in the cold air until her lungs burned with it.

Not that Noah had been very keen on her taking a walk. She was nearing her eighth month of the pregnancy now, and while Noah had treated her like she might break at any moment before, that was nothing to how he was acting now.

The doctors and healers had even said that she was doing well, that there weren’t any complications. They did tell her that she should be resting more often now that the baby was becoming so much bigger, but they hadn’t told her to stay off her feet entirely.

And she’d been resting all day! She’d been lying in bed reading for most of the day, head against Noah’s side while he’d read through some paperwork that had needed his attention.

But now she wanted to move, wanted to step outside for just a few minutes.

“Raeliana!”

She wrinkled her nose, chest heaving as she tried to pick up her pace. She didn’t realize how slow she moved until she was being chased, struggling to make it down the hall before Noah or Adam caught up with her.

She’d snuck out when Noah had fallen asleep, changing out of the nightdress she’d still been wearing and into a soft, billowing gown that had been a relatively new purchase after she’d broken down in tears when her favourite dress no longer fit.

Normally she would have tried talking Noah out of buying her something expensive and new, but in a case like that…

Well, exceptions could be made. And it had made her feel very happy when she’d seen the new dress, in the same deep forest green as her old one.

Noah must have awoken no more than a few minutes after she’d slipped from the room, and she could hear the sound of his footsteps echoing behind her, the sound growing louder with each passing moment.

She grit her teeth, annoyed at how slowly she moved now. And even more annoyed with how quickly Noah did.

And that he was chasing after her in her own home.

Pain spiderwebbed from her lower back, scraping burning claws over her nerves and up her spine, momentarily snapping her from her thoughts. She felt herself stumbling, the pain catching her off-guard. She threw out a hand to press against the wall, to steady herself long enough to catch her breath, for the pain to grow dull enough that she could walk once again.

She was starting to think that she preferred it when she was nauseous.

Raeliana didn’t make it much further before Noah finally caught up with her, taking hold of her wrists and spinning her around with far, far too much ease.

He smirked, smug with the victory of catching her mid-flight. But she could see consternation in his face, too, in the slight wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth even as he smiled, in the slight furrow of his brow that she would have missed had she not known him for so long now.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, his narrowing ever-so-slightly. A dare.

“I was going out for a walk,” she said, lifting her chin, trying to school her face into nonchalance even as the baby kicked just below her ribs, the sudden shock of it nearly making her gasp.

His grip on her wrist tightened, drawing her slowly back the way they had come. “You snuck out like a criminal while I was asleep?”

“There’s no crime in taking a walk,” she argued, trying to pull back.

“You didn’t even tell me,” there was the slightest hint of a pout now, although his eyes were still bright with mischief.

“You were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Or,” he mused, leaning so close their brows nearly collided. “You were trying to sneak away.”

“So what if I was?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, trying to ignore how warm he was, how nice he smelled.

She was planning to say more, but found that she couldn’t as the baby kicked again, harder than before. Instead of any coherent words, she gasped, a tangled sound that might have been a curse spilling from her mouth instead.

“That hurt, baby,” she groused, rubbing her belly where the little foot had been. “You’re not being very nice.”

Noah sighed, crossing his arms, some of the humour disappearing from his face. “The doctors said you should be resting.”

“I’ve been resting all day,” she argued, wincing at the dull throb in her back. “I want to go out. I want to take a walk.”

“What if something happens? What if you get hurt?”

Now it was Raeliana’s turn to sigh. “I’m not made of glass, Noah. I can go into our garden for a walk.”

He regarded her cooly for a moment, the hand at her wrist sliding down, fingers tangling with hers.

“Alright,” he said at last, squeezing her hand.

Raeliana felt her mood brightening, a current of excitement arcing through her like lightning in the beginnings of a storm. “Really?”

He smiled, lips curling up into a devilish grin, his eyes once again glittering with mischief. “If you want to go out so badly, then why don’t we go out.”

She frowned, confusion wrapping itself around her mind like a woolen scarf in the winter. It itched, heavy and thick, and she shifted on her feet, uncomfortable.

“What do you mean?”

He smiled wider, that smug look returning. “My dear Raeliana, I think we should go on a date.”

***

“My dear Raeliana, I think we should go on a date.”

“It will probably be one of our last chances to spend time together before the baby comes.”

Noah’s words echoed in Raeliana’s ears as she made her way through the mansion once more.

She grimaced, her back and feet already aching as she waddled down the hall, heading towards Noah’s study.

He’d proclaimed that they’d needed to go out, enjoy each other’s company before the baby was born. He’d even gone so far as to promise to plan everything himself, so that she could rest before going out.

But Raeliana had seen the way his eyes had sparked, making the deep gold look nearly inhuman. He was planning something, she was sure of it.

But she’d decided to go along with it, anyways. At the very least it meant she would get a chance to go out for a little while, exhaust some of the energy that had made her so restless. And she would be lying if she said it didn’t feel nice to put on a pretty gown and have her hair done up for more than just sitting in bed all day.

And she would be lying, too, if she said she wasn’t looking forward to it.

She was so excited that there was a bounce in her step as she made her way towards Noah’s study. She imagined what he might have planned, if they would be stopping at one of the high end restaurants he so loved to make last minute reservations at. Or if they would go to a theatre to watch a show.

She rolled different ideas over in her mind as she paused at the door to his study, wondering what he would choose. From how overbearing he’d been from the moment they’d realised she was pregnant, she doubted it would be anything particularly strenuous.

There would be no long walks or trips beyond the city or attending any parties or balls. Not that she particularly wanted to attend a ball, where so many eyes would be once again fixed on her.

She knocked, humming tunelessly. Dancing would be fun, but she wouldn’t really want anyone watching. Partly because she didn’t want anyone picking apart her appearance and dancing skills, especially when she already felt like she was coated in sweat from the short walk from her room to the study. And partly too because she wanted to spend time with just Noah, without other people getting in the way.

She didn’t wait before stepping into the study, finding Noah still seated at his desk. He was already dressed and ready in a casual suit, and Raeliana’s heart stumbled a little as she watched him shuffle through some of the papers, his mouth quirked to the side, so lost in thought he hadn’t even noticed her come in.

She squeezed a ribbon stitched over her heart, forgetting for a moment the aches in her body and the sweat already coating her skin.

He really did look like an angel, even if she knew what lurked beneath his handsome features.

But her heart still stumbled, tripping like a child still learning to walk. How could it not when he looked up and met her gaze with his, when his eyes began to shine as their edges crinkled and his lips curled up into a true smile that so few people got to witness.

And she loved what was beneath all his good looks and faux charm too. Even the devilishness hidden beneath his skin. His true self, shared with her and few others, warming her heart with a gentle, steady heat.

Noah’s brow wrinkled, his tone teasing as he set his papers to the side. “Are you with me?”

She blinked, cheeks heating as she was drawn from her reverie. “Are you all ready to go?”

He nodded, standing and walking around his desk to pause before her.

“What were you thinking?” He asked, reaching up to twist a lock of her hair around his fingers.

Fat chance I’m telling you.

She winced; there was no way he would let her live down what she had been thinking.

So instead she shrugged. “Just thinking about what you had planned for today.”

His smile made her feel wary, hair rising on the back of her neck.

She narrowed her eyes. He was definitely planning something.

“Why do you look so suspicious?”

“I feel suspicious,” she muttered, taking the arm he offered anyways.

He pouted, just the smallest bit, and Raeliana had the overwhelming urge to reach up and pinch his cheeks. Just a little, only a little.

She wrinkled her nose, tucking her hand against her side to stop it from reaching his cheek against her will.

I’m pretty sure this is what they call cuteness aggression.

He really was cute, especially when he sulked, trying to tug on her heart with his lips sticking out, his eyes wide and round, his brow wrinkled in petulance.

She ground her teeth together, annoyed that whatever he was trying was working. She could feel some of her suspicions melting away, the urge to squish his cheeks between her hands now overtaking her mind.

“I can’t imagine why you would think such a thing,” he said, feigning innocence as they made their way to the entrance, the carriage waiting to whisk them away. “My only intention is to spend time with my beautiful wife.”

Raeliana narrowed her eyes, now convinced he had some sort of ulterior motive. He was trying too hard to be nice, there was certainly something up his sleeve.

She lifted her chin as he offered her his hand, helping her down the stairs from the front door, guiding her towards the carriage. She was certain she had a pretty fair idea of what he was plotting. Taking into consideration how overprotective he had been for the last number of months, how quickly he had chased her down the previous day, and the cunning light in his eyes when he’d suggested they go out, Raeliana figured she knew exactly what Noah was plotting.

It was very likely an attempt to get her to concede, to let herself be taken care of and rest in bed for the remainder of the pregnancy. And very very likely for a time after it, if Noah’s current mother hen-like behaviours continued.

Which meant that she just had to outdo him, and prove that she wasn’t quite so delicate as he thought.

Although he did have the upper hand, since he knew the exact itinerary for the day, putting Raeliana at a disadvantage. Her back was already aching horribly, and she could feel pain spider-webbing over her sides and up her back, towards her shoulders. She didn’t know how long she needed to hold out for, how much of the day Noah had scheduled.

She let him help her up into the carriage, ruminating over her theories as he ensured she was comfortable, his expression barely masking the concern that so often lingered there these days.

“Are you alright?” He asked, settling in the seat across from her, looking like he wanted to reach out and hold her again.

She did her best to fix a relaxed expression on her face, even as her body itched from how hot she felt. Walking through the mansion had made her overheat even more than normal, and she could feel the sweat that clung to her skin, practically dripping down her back.

But she still smiled, folding her hands over her belly. She would not lose. “I’m feeling great.”

***

Things were not going to plan. Which was truly such a shame considering how brilliant Noah had thought it was at the time.

Raeliana had been pushing the limits of her health since the moment they’d found out she was pregnant. And while he did understand that she wasn’t a porcelain doll, still he had worried. Her soul was tethered to her body properly now, with no fear of falling into a sleep she would never awaken from. But still he couldn’t shake the fear that she would collapse as she had before, that she would push herself too much and go beyond her limits and grow sick.

It didn’t help either that the nausea and sickness she had struggled with early in the pregnancy had terrified the life out of him. He’d wake in the middle of the night when she did, racing for the bathroom in a cold sweat, her hair clinging to her face. He’d did his best to help, holding her hair back for her, tucking her back into bed when she was too fatigued to put up a fight.

She’d gotten headaches too, ones that she had complained made her head feel like it was split in two. And they would last for days and days, paired with a dizziness that made her so unsteady on her feet some days that he wouldn’t be more than a few inches from her side, lest she stumbled and fell.

Which is something that did happen, more than once, although Raeliana would not admit it out loud.

He’d felt like he’d been losing a year of his life every day as his anxiety continued to mount, and as Raeliana continued trying to pretend like she was perfectly fine.

He’d seen her collapse multiple times since he’d known her, he’d nearly lost her to kidnappers, to fire, to an explosive masquerading as a jewel.

There was of course, the true explosives as well, in the royal palace, that she had very nearly been caught up in.

He figured he’d earned the right to be a little overbearing, a little anxious.

But the day before he had felt almost at peace. He’d been sitting on the bed next to Raeliana, who had started dozing even as she struggled to continue reading the book in front of her. He’d been sorting through some paperwork, periodically reaching out to rub her shoulder or readjust the pillows and blankets to be more comfortable for her.

And when she’d fallen asleep he had set aside his work to curl beside her for just a moment, he’d sworn it was only for a moment. To trace the outline of her face, to run his hand through the softness of her hair, even tangled as it was.

He hadn’t anticipated falling asleep, and yet it hadn’t been hard, nestled as he was with his precious wife, someone he loved so much it made his chest ache, just a little. Something he had never imagined he would feel, or would let himself feel.

But when he’d awoken he’d realized he had made a very big mistake, Raeliana gone from the room, the door still swinging shut in her wake.

Catching up to her hadn’t been hard; she’d grown much slower and much less adept at evading him as the months had progressed. But his mind had still been half asleep, part of him still lost in his dreams next to his sleeping wife. And he’d been incredibly annoyed, more so than usual.

And he had thought, as she’d argued with him because she’d wanted to wander outside, in late autumn, alone, when he had once watched her slam into a wall and fall backwards from dizziness, perhaps he should just let her. Let her wander outside, let her go out and act as though nothing were different and her body was currently being pushed to its limits.

He knew getting out and staying moderately active was good and healthy, but going out alone, in late autumn without so much as a coat was certainly pushing it. Especially when the doctor had told them that now she should be resting a little more, particularly if she was experiencing any body pain.

But maybe if he took her out, if they went out and did everything they normally did, perhaps she would acquiesce, finally coming to terms with the fact that she could not still do everything that she normally did.

And also that he would very much like her to not try and do everything she normally did, because it was scaring away years of his life.

But perhaps if they went out she would concede, and she would let him take care of her just a little.

That had been his thought, anyways. But now he was walking with her down a winding path through one of the public parks in the city, their stroll nearly at an end, and she didn’t show even the slightest hint of discomfort.

The day was cold, the first taste of winter in the breeze as it rustled through the remaining leaves still stubbornly clinging to ashen branches. And yet Raeliana had shed her jacket, her pale cheeks flushed a soft pink. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back as the wind raked freezing fingers through her hair, her hat clasped in her free hand so it did not fly away.

He had chosen the park because it had been the most beautiful, with a grand hedge-maze and beautiful blooming flowers that rivalled even the royal gardens.

He would have taken her to the royal gardens, which were even more grand and sprawling, but he did not want to risk the chance of his brother finding them, and harassing them incessantly until they could escape.

Noah had thought that a long walk in the brisk autumn air would surely tire Raeliana, and she would at the very least ask to sit down on one of the many benches that dotted the walking paths. Except that she had not. Even when he’d been sure she’d been gazing longingly at some of the benches tucked beneath a canopy of flowers, she had not asked to sit or rest.

And he couldn’t exactly ask her if she wanted to rest either, not when he was feigning calm, pretending as though she were not eight months pregnant and should really be getting off her feet since they’d been walking for over an hour now.

He had a sneaking suspicion Raeliana had caught on to his ploy, but he could not voice that question either. Instead he could only continue on, biting his tongue when he wanted to drag her to one of the benches and insist she sit, insist she rest and have some water for a few moments.

He comforted himself with the knowledge that they were almost done their walk, that they would be boarding the carriage again soon and heading to their next destination.

He’d booked a reservation for a new restaurant, one with a waitlist so long it would take a year at the minimum to get a seat.

Thankfully, he had been able to pull some strings and get them a reservation for that afternoon.

He’d heard the food was good, and that it was something Raeliana would enjoy, with an extensive menu that conveniently contained over half of the foods she was so often craving these days.

The interlude would be good, it would mean that Raeliana would get a chance to sit and eat and refresh herself. And it would serve as a break for him, from his worries over his plan potentially not going as he wanted it to.

Raeliana muttered something under her breath, the hand clutching her hat sliding to her back, pressing against the heavy fabric of her dress.

Noah wasn’t thinking about his plan when he reached out, pressing his hand against the small of her back, worry like oil in his veins.

“Are you alright?” He asked, icy hands grasping his chest. Perhaps he had been too callous, too hasty in enacting such an absurd plan. And now she was likely hurting, her body in pain because he wanted to prove a point-

His train of thought was abruptly stopped, utterly derailed as Raeliana’s hand dropped to her side and she grinned as though nothing were the matter. “Of course. I was just readjusting my dress.”

He dropped his hand too, pulling it back to his side as he gathered up the loose ends of his thoughts, tucking them away. He could tell she was lying, had caught onto her tell even before they’d been officially, truly engaged and married. But he couldn’t say anything as Raeliana continued to beam, feigning a sunny, unbothered demeanor.

Surely if she was well enough to lie to his face, she was well enough to continue with their day, wasn’t she?

He plastered on his own fake grin, quashing the desire to pick her up and drag her home. For the moment, anyways.

The carriage came into sight and Noah stifled his sigh of relief, pausing next to it as he helped Raeliana up and into her seat. He climbed in next to her, checking on the additional cushions they had added for her before taking his own seat.

He could at the very least make sure she was comfortable.

Raeliana’s eyes fell closed and she slumped back, sighing as though she were content. Noah couldn’t help seizing the moment, leaning forward ever-so-slightly, catching her gaze as her eyes fluttered open.

“Did you need a rest?” He asked, smirking. “You seem delighted for the chance to sit.”

Raeliana’s eyes narrowed, the corners of her lips turning down, furrowed lines appearing on her brow.

He resisted the urge to reach out to caress her cheek, to twist a lock of her hair around his finger. But it was particularly difficult, paired with her pink cheeks and the look of irritation he’d always thought was quite adorable on her face.

“I was just appreciating how soft these cushions are,” she groused.

Liar.

He continued smiling anyways, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that so?”

She bobbed her head. “Yes, they’re nicer than the ones we have at home. I think we should get some more.”

He made a mental note to ensure at least a few hundred of the cushions were purchased and distributed throughout all of Raeliana’s favourite places to sit.

A wince crossed her face, but it was just as quickly as it had appeared, and her hand moved to the side of her belly, like she could smooth away whatever had hurt her.

“Where are we headed to next?” She asked, a slight strain in her voice as she shifted, clearly not as comfortable as she had suggested.

He leaned his head back, watching her silently for a moment.

“Noah?”

He smiled wider, closing his eyes. “It’s a surprise.”

***

Ruined plan aside, Noah was at least glad that Raeliana seemed to enjoy the food.

Part of him had worried that she would grow sick, as she sometimes still did. As though a smell or a particular texture ruined the entire meal, inciting horrible nausea. But the food must have been quite good, or perhaps the baby was also enjoying the meal, or maybe a little bit of both, because she was beaming with genuine delight as each new course was brought out.

Noah bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything too snarky, not wanting to ruin the moment. Even the baby, it seemed, had calmed down a little, slowing the usual ceaseless kicks Raeliana had complained of around this time of the day.

He would tease her later. When there was no one else to watch.

They were nearing the end of their reprieve, slices of cakes on delicate, flower-shaped dishes before them. While Raeliana poked at a candied flower he surreptitiously checked his itinerary for the day.

A dress fitting, for some new gowns that she would feel comfortable in. No matter how she groused that he did not need to buy her many things, he did feel it was necessary to buy her new gowns. If not because he wanted to at least shower her a little in as many fine dresses and jewellery that he could than for the more utilitarian demand of her actually needing new clothes.

The doctor said the baby might yet still grow more, and as they were nearing the winter Raeliana would still need new, warmer clothes to combat the cold. All of her usual winter attire had been purchased before she’d been pregnant did not fit in the least.

And he did not want her to become distressed as she had the last time she’d tried wearing something that no longer fit.

Her tears had broken his heart in two and he’d nearly fired every dressmaker in his employ and run the rest of them out of town.

He hadn’t had any wicked intent when he’d scheduled the fitting, instead just hoping to kill more birds with the same stone.

Then he wanted to take her out on the lake, a fireworks display planned for that evening for many of the noble families in the city.

The boat was already prepared, resplendent with out of season blooms scattered around the interior and the finest of cushions for her to lounge against while enjoying the fireworks, and no doubt trying to stab him with her usual verbal barbs.

There wasn’t anything particularly wicked about that either, although he figured the gentle sway of the boat in the waves would make her feel a little off-kilter when they docked again.

He hadn’t planned much afterwards, having hoped that the earlier walk would have been all that was necessary. But if Raeliana had caught onto his schemes he would have to come up with something more elaborate. He highly doubted one fitting and an evening boat ride would convince her to capitulate.

He tucked his list back into his pocket, trying to curb the desire to shift uncomfortably as she plucked sugary flowers from his plate.

He really did want her to rest more, was desperately wishing they were at home and she were tucked somewhere safe. Surely it wasn’t so bad, was it? The mansion was quite large, and they had every comfort at their fingertips. He made sure she had any book she wanted to read, and any food she wanted, particularly after the incident with the broth he’d hunted down to help with her nausea.

And though he was so often busy, he did his best to handle some of his work sitting with her so he could at least spend a little time with her each day.

Although perhaps that was more for him, as he found he missed her presence a little more with each passing moment.

“Noah?”

He looked up as Raeliana called his name, and from the bemused expression on her face it was clear that hadn’t been the first time she’d called out to him.

“Hmm?” He beamed, feigning innocence. “What is it, dear Raeliana?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, but a smile played at the corners of her lips. “I wanted you to know that the baby is also enjoying lunch today.”

His smile faltered for something else, something akin to awe and delight twining together like one of Raeliana’s attempts at embroidery. “Pardon?”

She grinned, beckoning him over to her side. “I’m only doing this since you’re being so nice today.”

Her tone was far too saccharine to be a coincidence, so sugary that his teeth ached. If he’d had any doubts that she’d caught onto his little ploy they were washed away like sand beneath ocean surf. She most certainly knew what he’d been hoping for today.

But there was something in her eyes too, a genuine joy as she gestured to her side. “The baby’s saying how much they liked lunch.”

She took his hand to press to the side of her belly, and there, beneath the layers of her dress and his gloves, he felt the tiniest of kicks. A little foot, kicking again and again, demanding to be noticed.

His smile was true now, one of delight as he felt the baby continue kicking.

“They’re saying ‘thank you papa for lunch.’”

Noah started, something about her words catching him off-guard. Her tone had softened, losing the forced sweetness she had coated her voice with before. “I think she’s very happy.”

“She?” He was still off-guard, the image of a tiny child running unchecked through the once silent halls of the mansion giving him pause. His chest felt heavy, like something was pressing down against it, warmth bubbling where the pressure was greatest.

He couldn’t put a name to the feeling, only that it was something near happiness, though the edges were still stained with something close to melancholy.

A small child, with round cheeks and bright green eyes much like Raeliana’s, grinning up at him while eating lunch. Kicking little legs while she ate. Chattering in the way only little children did. Calling him father.

He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing an unexpected lump from his throat.

Heedless of Noah’s inner tumult, Raeliana only nodded. “I think the baby will be a girl.”

He cleared his throat, drawing his hand from her belly. “Oh? And how do you know?”

She shrugged, looking smug, as if she knew a secret he was not yet privy to. “I just know.”

He smiled despite himself. He’d wanted to tease her, but he couldn’t find it in him. Perhaps he hoped it was a girl, too. With Raeliana’s bright eyes and her smile and her intelligence and her masterfully hidden cunning.

And maybe a little bit of his, too.

“I suppose we will just have to wait and see.”

Raeliana blinked at him, seeming caught off-guard.

“Were you expecting a witty rejoinder?” He asked, spinning a teacup round on its saucer.

She furrowed her brow as he smirked, for a moment looking like she was about to snap out a sharp remark. But her expression quickly clouded over, her nose wrinkling as she suddenly glowered down at her plate.

The sudden shift gave him pause, although he knew he should have been used to the mood swings by now. “Raeliana? Is everything alright?”

He didn’t know how, but she managed to glare harder down at the plate, as though she were trying to disintegrate the remainders of her yet-unfinished dessert.

“Raeliana?”

She grumbled something incoherent, fiddling with her fork.

He leaned forward, concern twisting through his ribs like climbing ivy. “What’s wrong?”

She heaved a long sigh, dropping her head so quickly he feared she would smash it against the table. He did not immediately register her hands reaching up to catch her head, and he instead moved to catch it in her stead.

Raeliana blinked at him, looking dazed as crimson spread across her cheeks and ears, her cheeks cradled in his palms, her own hands pressing against the backs of his.

“Noah?”

He blinked, not daring to move for a moment.

“What are you doing?”

He drew his hands back, coughing as he took his seat again, trying and failing to ignore the heat climbing up his face. “I thought you were about to faint again, and I wanted to catch your head before you gave yourself a concussion.”

Incredulity was written in the lines of her smile, but blessedly Raeliana didn’t comment further. Instead she only shrugged, picking awkwardly at her dress.

“I had forgotten what I was going to say,” she admitted, looking more than a little ashamed.

He folded his arms on the table, nodding. “Ah.”

Raeliana scowled once more, looking less than pleased. “It was quite a good remark, too.”

“It must be quite frustrating to have forgotten such an alleged good remark.”

Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “What are you suggesting?”

He chuckled, beaming wider, delighted that he’d succeeded in teasing her. “Nothing, my love.”

Her nose wrinkled, and she crossed her arms, looking away from him. “You’re utterly insufferable.”

“You’re the one that married me.”

She was at a loss with that for a moment, but she quickly regained herself. “It’s quite common for pregnant women to forget small things.”

He was already well aware that it was, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have at least a little fun.

“And it’s already happened a few times,” she grumbled, more to herself than him.

He was quite aware of that, too. He’d caught her staring off into space, her eyes cloudy as she struggled to remember what she’d forgotten. Turns of phrase, where she had set a particularly favoured hair ribbon, what book she had been reading most recently.

He couldn’t resist needling her further, thinking this the perfect opportunity to recommend resting more. Letting herself be taken care of. “Well, perhaps if you were willing to rest more at home-”

She waved her hand, rolling her eyes at the familiar argument. “I will not even consider it.”

He huffed, although continued to smile. He was certain she would change her tune soon enough.

***

Noah felt sweat beading on his brow, and he turned away to brush it away.

It seemed Raeliana’s will was made of iron, and perhaps his was nothing more than cardboard, or sodden paper, because he could feel his resolve flaking away with every passing moment.

Raeliana had seemed pleasantly content at the dress fitting, choosing new fabrics and designs that she liked. And she had loved the fireworks display, nestled comfortably against the cushions as she was, commenting on the different lights and patterns that bloomed in the sky.

But still no concession, no admittance that he was even partly right.

So he had suggested another walk, since she’d so seemed to enjoy the last one. This time through the city, so they could stop into any shops she wished.

It had been over an hour when he suggested that, and the oily anxiety that curled in his belly like a serpent had reared its poisoned head once more. He could feel some of his rationality slipping away, and he had to tuck his hands against his sides or into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to offer to help her, to take her arm or press his fingers against the small of her back.

He didn’t want to be out anymore, he was growing far too nervous. They’d been out for long enough, hadn’t they? They had far exceeded her need to be out and move around, had they not?

Perhaps he was being melodramatic, as bothersome as Raeliana often whined about him being. But he was also anxious, a feeling he was still not entirely used to, although since meeting Raeliana he had been introduced to it more and more.

Raeliana, for her part, seemed wholly unperturbed, too busy browsing a night market tent nearly drowning in books.

“Oh, this one looks wonderful,” she said, her cheeks the pink of the sunset sky, a crescent moon smile dancing on her lips as she held the book out towards him. “Although I don’t know if it’s something you would particularly enjoy, Noah.”

He took it anyways, flipping through the pages, feigning nonchalance. It was another romance novel, similar to the others that Raeliana seemed to love so ardently.

“Oh, it must be a series,” she chattered, focus shifting to a few books sitting in a row. “These are all by the same author, and it looks like they feature the same characters.”

Noah gestured to one of the knights that had been trailing them as he covertly paid for the entire collection. He would have them carry the books back to the carriage, to await them when they were done.

“What do you think?” She asked, turning back to him, eyes glittering like unusual gems beneath the sun.

He offered a small smile, handing her back the book. “I think it would go quite well with the rest of your collection.”

She pouted a little, crossing her arms. “If you don’t think it’s interesting you can just say it.”

“Well, sometimes I like to read something new. Maybe next time I’m in the mood I’ll try it.”

She snorted, setting the book aside to take his hand. “I expect you to tell me all about what you think when you do.”

He let himself be dragged through the crowds of the market, pausing in front of stalls and tents carrying an assortment of paraphernalia, from perfumes to jewellery to fried foods to gowns to plush toys.

Some of his worry melted away, like ice beneath a warm, spring sun. But still he could feel the remnants of it, an astringent aftertaste in the back of his throat that would not dissipate no matter what he ate or drank.

More than a few times he caught Raeliana beginning to lag, could see the way she blinked back vertigo, the way she sometimes wobbled on her feet. And he would be an idiot if he didn’t notice the way she kept reaching around to her back, fingers scrabbling for a spot she couldn’t seem to reach.

Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore, the rising and falling tide of his anxiety wearing down his nerves like a stone losing its form beneath the weight of the ocean. She had winced, clearly trying to massage her upper thighs without him noticing, for perhaps the eighth time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Perhaps it’s time we headed home,” he suggested, taking her arm, hoping to steer her back in the direction of the carriage.

Raeliana narrowed her eyes, looking suspicious. “But there’s still so much to see.”

He sighed, knowing his defeat was at hand.

“My dear Raeliana, for the love of the goddess, can you please just sit down.”

She blinked at that, seeming at a loss for words, and it gave him the opening he needed to steer her towards a collection of quaint tables and chairs clustered before a charming little shop. A rose-coloured canopy was spread over the tables, casting them in a soft pink glow. He had her sitting down, and had finished ordering a light snack and water from the waitress who popped her head outside to check on them before Raeliana found her voice once more.

“I thought you’d finally come to your senses and realized I didn’t need to be babied,” she protested. There was a lilt to her voice though, and it belied the harsh scolding she was trying to convey.

He caught the quirk of her lips even as she glared at him. Or rather, tried to glare at him. But it was clear she was silently revelling in something within her mind, the sea glass green of her eyes sparkling like there was sunlight dancing in their depths.

Noah leaned back in his chair, sighing as he crossed his arms. Raeliana mimicked his pose, arching a brow, not bothering to hide her smirk now as she waited for him to speak. Expecting him to speak.

“I must admit,” he began, speaking slowly, watching as Raeliana tipped her head to the side, the golden-brown of her hair falling over her shoulder like a waterfall. He felt a little like an explorer, like he had discovered a rare, beautiful wonder. He wished that they were closer, he wished that the street was not so crowded, he wished that he could not see the waitress spying on them through the darkened window of the café.

He cleared his throat, trying to push away the distracting thoughts like cobwebs. Raeliana, sensing his hesitancy, dared to smile a little wider. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her cheeks, looking far too amused as she regarded him. “Admit what, Noah?”

He closed his eyes, sighing again. It would be easier if he wasn’t looking at her. “My intentions for taking you out today were not entirely pure.”

A trickle of laughter curled through the air, and he dared to crack his eyes open, his breath stolen as Raeliana dissolved into a fit of barely contained giggles. “When are your intentions ever entirely pure?”

He couldn’t help smiling then, the soft pink of peonies blooming in her cheeks, her hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, the tiniest of snorts escaping from her nose as she tried to reign in her laughter.

He hadn’t realized how quiet and grey his life had been, how absent of music and colour. He had been lacking something essential, and it had only been when Raeliana had entered his life that he’d realized what it was.

It was her, he’d been missing her.

He waited until her laughter finally subsided, and he reached for her hand before he continued. “I had hoped that going out today might make you reconsider how insistent you’ve been to refuse to rest. Or accept any help or support. Or acknowledge that right now your needs are different.” He said the final words as impassively as he could, but he couldn’t completely stop the ire that stained them.

Raeliana sighed now, but she still took his hand, tangling her fingers with his. “I figured that was what you were up to.”

He’d figured she was on to him. There wasn’t much he could hide from the sharp sea-glass green of her eyes.

“So why admit to it?” She asked, arching a brow.

“Since you know so much, why don’t you tell me?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

He closed his eyes once more, pressing the heel of his hand against the spot between his eyes. He must have been losing his touch, she had him thoroughly beat.

“I had a feeling you knew what I was up to,” he said, opening his eyes once more, his desire to catch sight of her smug little smile overcoming his bruised pride. “And that you would try to beat me at my own game.”

Her smile grew a little wider, and he once more wished that they were closer, that there were not so many people around. He would have liked to cup her cheek and kiss her gently, but he supposed that would have to wait.

Raeliana opened her mouth to reply, but her expression faltered, her free hand dropping to her belly as she winced, sucking in a long breath.

Any playfulness Noah felt was stifled by the heavy, choking feeling of anxiety descending over him. He was standing before he realized he’d moved, reaching for her with his other hand.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Her expression softened, whatever had been paining her passing. “I’m okay, Noah.”

He must have looked unconvinced because she took his hands, squeezing them together as she held his gaze. “I promise I’m okay. The baby was just kicking quite hard.”

He sat down slowly, not wanting to let her hands go. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Sometimes it just hurts. But it means the baby is healthy and very excited.” She smiled. “I imagine this little one will not give us much rest.”

He squeezed her hands tighter, waiting until his breathing was even once more. “If I’m being honest, this was why I couldn’t continue.”

“With your scheme?”

He huffed a laugh. “Yes, with my scheme.”

Her answering smile was soft, if not a little curious. “Because of the baby kicking?”

“Because I didn’t want you to be in pain or discomfort.”

Her shoulders slumped a little, and she leaned forward, her hair pooling on the table. “I understand why you’re concerned, Noah, I really do. But most days I feel like I’m being treated like a glass doll you’re worried might break.”

He was worried, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing now was not the time to say that.

“I would just like to feel like I’m a person. Not a fragile bauble that is kept in a glass case.”

He waited a moment, to see if there was more she wanted to say. But Raeliana only nodded her head, as if to signal that she had said her piece.

“And I understand why you feel that way. Perhaps sometimes I can be a bit…” He mulled over his actions over the past few months. “A bit overbearing. And overzealous.”

Raeliana snorted, and he pinched her hand in retaliation, smirking as she glowered at him.

“But I am worried. There haven’t been many complications, but I still see that you’re in pain, even if you try to hide it. And I feel as though I am often reminded of when you’ve collapsed in the past.”

“Noah, that was different. Now that-”

He waved a hand, and she grew quiet. “I understand the circumstances of why you were ill then, and why you collapsed, but I can still worry for the wellbeing of my wife.”

Her cheeks flushed, and he allowed himself a touch of satisfaction.

They were both silent for a few moments, considering the others words.

“Maybe there is a compromise,” Raeliana offered, tracing her thumb over the side of his hand.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I can make more of an effort to take things a bit slower, and let you know honestly when I am feeling unwell. And not try to escape from you or Adam or any of the guards when I am feeling overwhelmed.”

He nodded. “And what of me?”

“You can stop being quite so overbearing,” she smiled as she let go of one of his hands, drumming her fingers on the table. “Not accompany me everywhere I go. Not stop me from leaving the mansion.”

Her expression softened, and she stretched her fingers out on the table. “Take me out on dates like this.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Without having any ulterior motives.”

Noah laughed, lifting her hand to brush his lips against her knuckles. “Now that I can’t promise.”

Raeliana rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair, a weight seeming to have lifted from her shoulders. She rolled her head back, eyes falling closed as she sighed.

“What is it?”

“Well,” she said, her words turning to a slight squeak as she cracked one eye open to peek at him. “You might have been maybe just a little, tiny bit right.”

He lifted his brows, unable to stop the smile that slid across his face. “Oh?”

She wrinkled her nose, glaring at him. “Just a little.”

“Of course, I could never be entirely right.”

She snorted, eyes falling closed once more. “I think I might have overdone it, just a little.”

“Are you in any pain?”

She shook her head, a hand snaking behind her back. “My back just hurts. A lot.”

“Does it often hurt?”

A pause, then a begrudging nod.

Noah paused too, propping his chin on his palm as he regarded her quietly for a moment. “Would you like me to try and help?”

Raeliana blinked, seeming to consider his words. He suspected she’d never actually considered asking for help, but he also suspected he was partly to blame for that. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so overzealous the last few months she would have been willing to approach him with anything truly ailing her.

The thought made him wilt, like a dying plant beneath an unrelenting summer sun. It seemed he might have been his own worst enemy.

Raeliana’s voice drew him from his thoughts, and catching her gaze he felt himself straighten, no longer a dying weed in parched, cracked earth.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she said, casting her eyes down to the table, the ground, a spot on her gown he couldn’t see, her gaze flitting anywhere other than meeting his own. “Do you think you could massage it a little? To help?”

He hummed, smiling as she fidgeted in her seat, not even making eye contact with the waitress as she dropped off their food and left.

“I’d be happy to.”

She blinked. “Are you sure?”

“If it would make you happy, I would hire the most talented masseuse in the country.”

She snorted. “Well I don’t want the most talented masseuse in the country.”

“How about the world?”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I just want you, Noah.”

“As you wish.”

She poked at the small round cake in front of her, strawberries arranged in a circle around the edges of the cake. “And I want another one of these.”

He lifted his arm to wave the waitress back over. “I can have a full order of them sent to the mansion.”

She opened her mouth, looking like she was ready to argue, but she paused, taking a bite of her cake instead. “I would like that very much.”

Noah laughed, warmth blooming within him like he was made of summer. Like there were wildflowers between his ribs and sunshine in his veins and birds arcing in the cavity of his chest.

The day had not gone the way he had expected it to at all, and he had never been more glad for it. Had never been happier that a scheme had gone awry, that he had lost.

Across from him sat Raeliana, his wife, happy and content as she chattered about something new. About the books they had looked at, how she was looking forward to reading something new. And he couldn’t help looking forward to the days ahead too, when he was certain more of his schemes would come undone beneath her hands. He had already lost his heart to her, he was more than happy to lose everything else, so long as it meant he could stay with her forever, in this life and every one after.

#the reason why raeliana ended up at the duke's mansion #why raeliana ended up at the duke's mansion #raeliana mcmillan #noah wyknight #this is perhaps one of my most favourite stories EVER right now honestly #im so obsessed with them

[heartbeatan]

Grave - Book 2: Ribbon & Rope (Chapter 9)

Return to Chapter 8.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Grave Series.

Return to Yoongi Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 9

“On the bed,” Yoongi instructed you, his tone firm and devoid of anything playful. You had been standing somewhat shell-shocked in the middle of the room, watching him as he scavenged through his cupboard of ropes when it dawned on you what exactly you had agreed to. “Take your clothes off.”

You gnawed on your lip for a moment, suddenly feeling awkward and self-conscious, the way you had before he had seen you a hundred ways from naked. You could really use some of that heat-driven courage right now - perhaps you shouldn’t have let the succubae run off with some of it.

When he didn't hear you move, he turned to look sharply at you, his eyes piercing you like an arrow, and it only made you seize up. He strolled across the floor to you, a bundle of forest green rope in his hand. When he reached you, his fingers wrapped around your neck as he dug his thumb into the soft spot beneath your chin, pressing your face upwards so you couldn’t avoid his hardened gaze.

“Are you going to make me repeat myself, Y/N?” he warned, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly.

“No,” you swallowed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” you answered him.

“Then, do as you're told. For your safety, and for my pleasure."

“Yes, sir,” you breathed. He clucked his teeth as the honorific brought him a rogue satisfaction.

And there it was. The heat’s trigger. That devilish glint in his eye that said you were going to listen to him and you were going to be heavily rewarded by it. You realized then that although you were once more relinquishing power to him, that you still had an abundance of power to wield. He wanted this. He wanted you. He wanted satisfaction, and your satisfaction would be the only thing that granted him that.

Your lips pulled into a seductive and arrogant smirk as you began to unbutton your pants while he still held you by the chin.

You pulled the denim off your hips, and he released you as you bent to the floor and peeled them off your body then kicked them to the side. You stood straight again, staring smugly back at him as he watched your fingers deftly pull apart the buttons of his shirt and reveal your soft, naked flesh riddled with his bite marks.

When the shirt was discarded, and there was nothing left for you to strip yourself of, you let his eyes rake over you once before you turned on your heels and skipped over to his bed. You sat on the edge, then crawled yourself backwards onto the mattress, letting your figure look long and enticing to him.

His eyes lingered over everything he could see. He looked just so sexy, and in charge, and methodical - assessing you like you were a project he planned on perfecting. A heated longing began to build from within you, itching more and more with each passing second of his sharp eyes and darkened features on you, promising to make good use of you. “You’re gonna look really fucking good when I’m done with you,” his voice rasped in a low, throaty declaration.

“Well, tick-tock, then. I’m not getting any younger,” you edged him on.

Something wicked flashed in his eyes - it seemed like irritation, but you couldn’t quite call it that because he seemed to revel in it.

His chin tilted, and he looked down at you like you were a peasant in his presence. “You’re in my realm now, Y/N. I’ll touch you whenever the fuck I want. And any dissent will have consequences.”

“What kinds of consequences?” you asked confidently, although he picked up on the part of your voice that wasn't quite so confident.

“Consequences I assure you you’ll enjoy…” he crooked his neck, “...eventually.” His lips then formed a lascivious grin. “But it’s gonna be a looong time until I let you come if you start sassing me now.”

You kind of liked that idea… but the heat didn’t - and no matter how much edge the succubae had taken off of it, it was certainly still capable of taking the reins.

“Understood,” you said, although you laced your tone with a hint of mischiefism, just to let him know you were still keeping your options open.

“Good.”

He tossed the rope beside you, then peeled his shirt from his body and discarded it as well. You licked your lips as his well sculpted torso stretched and flexed itself into view. You hadn’t had the opportunity to really enjoy him this way - to gawk at him in cheap, vulgar appreciation. You took note of every shadow and highlight and curve he had, committing to memory all the places you would lick and kiss and touch when you could freely put your hands on him. He stepped forward, kneeling on the bed between your feet, then shuffling the rest of the way towards you, parting your thighs so he could nestle between them, spreading your legs wide open for him to see all of you bare you if he so chose to steal a glance. “Lay down,” he instructed. “Get comfortable.”

You did, leaning back until your back hit the mattress. Then you grabbed for a pillow above you, pulling it under your head and shuffling your shoulders until you were comfortably supported and still able to watch him below you.

He grabbed one of your ankles, pushing it against your ass so your knee bent tight and sat high in the sky. Then he began unraveling the rope, taking his sweet ass time.

It was long, you thought, there had to be several strands of rope in the bundle. But as he eyed you up and folded it over itself in what appeared to be conscious measurements, you realized that nope, it was just one long rope, and you were sure there was not enough surface area on your body for all of it.

He formed a hitch somewhere in the middle of a length, and placed it above your ankle, before pulling the long tails of green through it, forming a bind around your joint. He then began to wrap the double-layered rope around your thigh and calf, starting from the meaty flesh above the hollow of your hip, and winding upwards five times ending just below the knee.

You watched him with genuine amazement and curiosity as he then deftly began to cinch each column together along the crease where the halves of your leg met, each one making you feel the bite and the tension in the cord increase just a touch more.

It all looked so complicated, but he did it with such ease. He could have probably done it faster, but he seemed to like to take his time.

“You have a lot of rope left,” you commented, as he created an impressive fold to secure his work from falling apart and you noticed miles more left to go.

“I’m a 7000-year-old pro, Y/N. I have as much as I need. I promise you no human is gonna be able to pull this off, nonetheless in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” the heat whined. “Can you just like, use The Force? You do that all the time at the diner with the waiters' apron strings.”

“I can,” he affirmed, and then he slipped his fingers between the first column of rope, and you felt his knuckles glide suavely over your skin as he relieved the pressure of the bind on your thighs and shins. He then released it and did the same to the next column, then the next. There was something about the pain of the rope and the soothing smoothness of his fingers that gave you chills and made you want to chew on your tongue. “But this way is more fun, don’t you think?” he said as his finger slid over the skin of your inner thigh, only inches from your wide-open pussy.

“Yeah, maybe,” your voice hitched.

The corner of his mouth pulled up as he heard the arousal in your voice contradict your non-committal answer.

“Lift your back,” he said, and you arched your spine off the mattress, just enough for him to wrap the rope around your waist, reversing the tension above your belly button, before he pulled it down to your other thigh, and started the process over again on your other leg.

This one went much quicker, and soon you found yourself helplessly bound and prone, and a bit confused as to how you would escape this situation if an act of God took him away and left you to free yourself on your own.

He took a moment from his art, looking down at what he had done, looking at you tangled up in his intricate craft, and he smoothed his palm over your lower belly, lower and lower, teasing you with the prospect of playing with your susceptible junction. You squirmed slightly from his touch and felt the ropes pull and tighten around your flesh. You were surprised at how little the feeling bothered you, even though part of you was a bit trepid about being this vulnerable.

“On your knees,” he said, reaching a hand to you to help you up into the position he wanted.

You lifted yourself, more gracefully than you expected you could, and he shuffled effortlessly around you, pulling your back against his chest, bracing your weight comfortably against him. His fingertips brushed softly down the lengths of both your arms, until he grabbed below your elbows, and pulled your arms high to wrap behind you and behind his neck.

You reveled in having him close like this – his chin grazing your temple, his skin warm on yours, his breaths audible in your ear and in tune with the rise and fall of his chest.

He reached for the tails of the rope and then began to skillfully wrap and knot them around your waist, creating what looked like a diamond, which he then snaked around your neck to form a collar, or necktie, before the lengths returned to your midriff and he began pulling and twisting in thoughtful patterns. It was a remarkable sight to see. A beautiful array of braids and knots and crosses began to form like a corset around your body.

When the bodice was seemingly complete, he smoothed a wide, firm palm to guide the tails over your lower belly, then mound – then you gasped and bowed against him as he deliberately ran it over your labia, the rolling pressure of the rope teasing your clit.

He pulled the rope underneath you, and you felt him weave it through the binding over your back. It was getting tighter and tighter. You felt it slipping over the crack of your ass, and you watched as the loop between your legs began to shrink smaller and smaller as it aimed to turn itself into an unconventional thong.

The sight made you nervous, but it also fueled an intense sexual need as your pussy began to tingle in anticipation of being touched.

But before it tightened itself around you, you heard a clinking noise come from above you, and you looked up to see the rope tails dropping back down from the ceiling, anchored over one of the metal hardpoints Yoongi had installed above his bed.

You were caught between the amazement of seeing him use "The Force" this time and the terrifying idea that he might try to suspend you in the air by your Queen Victoria.

But – he didn’t… at least not yet.

“Hands in front of you,” he graveled into your ear, letting his nose trace along the shell.

“Mm,” you hummed, liking the sensual touch, wishing very much that he give up on whatever he had planned next to just start caressing and kissing you now. Your hands still behind his head, you carded your fingers through his hair and pressed yourself into him just a little more.

“Nah-ah,” he mocked you, “Not yet, baby.” His fingers drew north from your hips and tickled up your sides until he took hold of your wrists and placed them in front of you in a prayer position.

He created another fold midway through the length of the remaining rope, and looped it around your thumb, then crossed it over your wrist, then your palm, then your wrist. He pulled it across to your other hand, and bound it the same way, until your wrists were held tightly together like a set of sadistic, medieval handcuffs.

He then guided them to raise over your head, then south behind your neck, pointing your elbows to the ceiling. After a few more passes of rope, which you could not see, only hear from the whipping sound they made behind you, you felt them pull taut over the anchored chord over your back, and then you yelped as you finally felt the rope that had been threatening your pussy pull tight.

“Shit,” you gasped. It was an odd sensation of perhaps a bit of pain and perhaps a bit of pleasure. Your body arched in response to the contact. But when your body arched, it only slipped the cord tighter against you, and you spit out something that could have been construed as either good or bad.

It was a trap. The strategically placed loop was intended to react to you. You were restrained, prone and vulnerable and left with very little control – but the control you had been left was booby-trapped. You tried to raise your arms above your head, but it pulled the cord long and bumpy through your slit, tightening the rope even more, and pulling an even higher-pitched gasp from you. You lowered your arms again, right to where Yoongi had originally placed them before, and you felt the tension release.

You felt him shift behind you as he pulled himself off the mattress, every dip and rise of the foam moving causing the rope to shift over you and send shudders of mixed sensations through you.

He rounded the bed and stood in front of you, looking pleased with himself as he admired you and his work. Even when you were as still as possible, the rope teased your clit and your folds, and it felt like each time you breathed it was pulsing against you. The only thing you could hold onto was your lip in your teeth. You glared back up at him, not sure if you hated him or wanted to worship him. What was happening between your legs was confusing, the tightness around your body was confounding, and yet the tingling heat within your gut knew without question that this was exactly what it wanted.

“You like it?” Yoongi asked, although his question didn’t much imply that he cared about the answer. Nor did the salacious way he looked at you or the visible tightness in his pants.

You swallowed, anticipating that if you spoke you would feel it in the rope too. “It’s strange,” you said, and you were right as you felt the braids rumple against you. “But… I don’t hate it.”

“Are you getting wet?” his eyes twinkled like he already knew the answer.

“I… maybe…” you responded – you couldn’t be sure with how crowded the space was.

He knelt on the mattress again, the movement below you causing another shift and another grunt from you. He pushed his hand between your legs, and your breath hitched a sob as you felt his fingers run over the rope. The light friction as his nail slid over each braid felt like a dragging pulse against your clit, and this time it did feel like pleasure.

“Ah,” you reacted, trying to keep your panting to a minimum – but even now, the oddness of the rope began to feel familiar, and the familiarity began to feel good.

“You are, baby,” Yoongi said, as his fingers flattened and widened as he began to stroke the length of you. He was right. You could feel it now – feel your juices slickening the rope, making every little move you made now feel slippery and wonderful.

“Yeah…” you took another breath. “It feels good.”

“Mm,” he murmured in delight. Then you felt him grab roughly onto the rope, and pull it strongly, nearly lifting you off the mattress.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasped, partially in shock, partially in pain, and definitely in arousal.

He released his grip on the rope and began stroking you again in long, deliberate movements. The change from pain to pleasure only made the latter more intense. Oh, yes. You could definitely come like this – trapped, held hostage, unable to pull away from the rapture or press into it. You would be completely at his mercy, and you would definitely come if he would just keep going.

“I’m gonna leave you here for a bit,” he said, his voice sounding almost deceptive. “Let you get used to it.”

“What?! No. I don’t need to.”

“I think you do,” he taunted you with a grin.

“Yoongi, please. I need to come,” you pleaded with him, trying to imply that the heat was making you manic. Perhaps it was in some ways, but truth be told, this time it was you who just really fucking needed him to keep going.

“You will,” his eyebrow now taunted you too. “When I allow it.”

“Yoongi, I swear to God,” you called to him, and this time the heat did too - threatening him with something that both knew was futile.

“Or what, Y/N? You gonna run away and find someone else?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you cried, but it only made him smugger.

He pulled off the bed, and you yelped again as the bounce caused another shock of need and heat to ricochet through you.

He went over to his dresser and grabbed a moleskin sketchbook, one you hadn’t seen before, then he searched a mason jar for a charcoal pencil. He returned, dragging one of his chairs along with him, stationing it in front of the bed, and taking a seat.

“I didn’t agree to any nudes, Yoongi,” you called to him as he sharpened the charcoal and flipped to an empty page.

He chuckled, “You’re not naked, you’re wearing about 35 feet of jute.”

You laughed, then you awed as the laughter caused your pussy to flood with warmth and wetness.

“I won’t be long, baby,” he brought the charcoal to his lips and blew once to clean the dust. “But feel free to get started without me.”

You held still for the first little while, watching him sketch. Then you closed your eyes, wincing as the pressure of the rope over you brought waves of discomfort then waves of pleasure. Then you'd open them again to see him looking focused – and sexy in his chair behind his book. Occasionally he’d let your eyes meet, and he’d wink at you, and then suddenly a wave of caged birds began to flap their wings wildly in your stomach.

But soon, it wasn’t the physical waves that held your attention - it was the emotional ones that took over. As you hung there, as you watched him sketching you like a nude model, and as the knowledge that you currently belonged to him permeated, and you recognized that right now you were no better than his little play thing, your chest began to fill with a peculiarly satisfying sense of empowerment from being completely objectified and used. You didn’t quite understand it… it felt naughty and dirty… but you fucking loved it. Being in his hands and completely at his mercy. Fuck you wanted him to get the fuck over here and show you more. Your mind began to imagine all the things he could do to you while you were helpless like this. He could let you sit on his face; he could pound you from behind, or from below; or he could run his hands over the rope again and let you drench his wrist. Maybe he could do all of it as well as things you hadn’t even known existed.

You closed your eyes, and just let yourself feel… everything… without any regret. The heat of your flesh under jute. The draft of the room over your bare breasts. The dampness between your thighs. The swirl of emotion and arousal inside you.

You rolled your neck, and forgetting momentarily how they tightened when you moved them, you stretched your hands above your head and felt the rope rake over your pussy as it moved.

But this time – you loved it. The slickened cording beaded through you, and it was no longer strange, it was fucking magic.

“Hm,” you hummed as you raised your hands again, and your body began to swivel against its tension. You did it again, and again, feeling your skin begin to flush with heat and your blood begin to tingle through your body. You weren’t sure if Yoongi had noticed your mounting arousal, but at this moment you didn’t much remember that he was even in the room. That was until you moaned an “Oh, God,” and he called to you.

“Don’t come, Y/N,” he cautioned.

“Then you better get over here, sir,” you ignored his request and kept climbing yourself upwards.

“What did I say about sass?”

“I don’t care.”

“I’ll make you care,” he said suggestively. “I can with one word.”

“Nah-uh,” you cooed. “No mark commands today – that’s not the name of the game. You want me to listen, you’re gonna have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

“Interesting choice of words, Y/N.” Your eyes now flew open to look at him. You knew something was up from the moment he said it.

Then it happened.

The rope between your legs released, and slithered rapidly away, just as you felt the support from the ceiling above give, and your body launched itself forward, readying to face plant you into the mattress. But just before you did, you heard the sharp sounds of whipping rope, and the bindings around your waist and arms met resistance – freezing you in mid-air, leaving your body bent at the waist in a 90-degree angle.

He did it again… "The Force." Without even leaving his chair, he twisted and molded you into submission. Somewhere between the near-face-plant shock and the wrath over the loss in potential orgasm, you found it incredibly hot.

“The fuck, Yoongi?!” you coughed.

He leaned forward, balancing his elbows over his knees. “You said the old-fashioned way. I happen to be very, very old-fashioned.”

You waited with baited breath for something more to happen. For him to at minimum cross the floor and touch you, or at bare minimum to resume drawing. But he did neither. He just studied you, like an ethologist getting his first true glimpse at the creature he had come to find. It was hot, but infuriating. You felt so desirable in his eyes, and it turned you on like no other, but you were still turned on, and desperate to be touched. You tried to rub your thighs together, wanting to recreate the sensation of the rope you had come to love tight over your slit, but the attempt was useless. When your knees weren’t planted a foot apart, you lost balance and began to rotate awkwardly from your suspensions, and there wasn’t enough tethers around you to comfortably hang in midair. This new trick was yet another trap that dangled pleasure in front of your face, and removed all control you had by making what little you had your undoing.

"Please tell me that you're done doodling,” you spat, frustrated and needy when you had enough of the endless struggle.

He nestled back into the chair, looking at you with impish inquiry. “Do you think insulting what I do is going to get you what you want, Y/N?”

Your insides seethed, wanting to retaliate against him.

“I hope so.”

“Hm,” he sniggered. “I am done.”

You waited for him to say or do something more, but once again, he didn’t.

"Then get the fuck back here,” you grated.

“I don’t know if I like your tone.”

You inhaled heavily through your nose, closing your eyes to collect yourself before the heat inside you incinerated the ropes and everything else within a 100-meter radius.

“Please, sir. Touch me.”

He looked pleased, but not ready to relinquish anything. "Are you gonna behave?" he patronized.

"Do you want me to?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Then, I’ll behave.”

“Hm,” he chortled again. Then he closed his book, set it aside, then stood. He crossed the small distance between you, but it felt like he took too fucking long. Your everything intensified with every closed inch. He paused next to you – just for a moment – then continued behind you and out of sight.

You heard him rustling somewhere in the room, and you were pretty sure he was back at his cupboard. What was he getting now?

You heard him pad back across the floor, then your world went dark. Something silky was covering your eyes, and you discerned quickly that it was one of the ribbon blindfolds he kept stowed away.

“Next one will be to gag that filthy mouth,” he said, and you shivered – the rope feeling tight and hot against your sensitizing skin.

With your sight now gone, everything else felt technicolored. You felt every bend of the rope tied around your muscle and bone. You could smell him like he was right in front of you. You could hear every benign noise in the apartment, even the dead spaces echoed off the walls as if you were in an amphitheater. You could sense exactly where he was like your flesh could echolocate his body heat. He was behind you once more, then, the mattress bowed and he was on it again – just his knee, maybe a hand – then…

“Ohhhh,” you moaned a pathetic noise, as a hot, wetness licked your pussy. His tongue. Oh, fuck, yes his tongue was on you again.

It was firm, and slow… and you hated how it made you crazy. You wanted it hard, and fast – but didn’t dare beg him. He licked you again, longer, dipping deeper into your swollen lips, the tip of his tongue playing dangerously with your entrance. Then again, he widened his tongue, grazing over your clit first before conquering the rest of you.

Your hips began to sway as much as they could. You wanted to curve your back, press yourself into him and clutch a pillow in your hands – but you could do none of that. You were completely at his mercy.

“More, Yoongi,” you whined.

"I don't know,” he drawled lazily. “I want this body to beg first."

"It is,” you wept. “Baby, please, it is."

“Hm,” he hummed in thought. “You haven’t called me that yet. I think I like it too.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want, please just fuck me.”

“When I’m ready,” he reiterated. But then you felt him shift fully onto the bed, and your heart leapt into your throat at the prospect that he was "ready" meant now.

A heavy hand wrapped itself around the back of your neck, then drawled down the length of your spine, grazing over skin and jute, admiring the contrast between the two. Then strong hands came to rest on both your ass cheeks, and he spread them apart, giving himself clear access and an even clearer view to all your sacred parts. He dove in again, this time with more purpose, more passion, and hunger. You wanted to writhe, but couldn’t, which was ironic since you felt anchored to nothing despite being tied to everything. It was almost unbearable, and the noises you made only echoed your agony, which only encouraged him further.

“Fuckkk,” he moaned into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good.” You knew there was an element of the heat involved, but you roistered in the complement nonetheless. His hands clamped down on your hips, and he pressed and pulled himself further into you, his tongue now darting madly through every nook and cranny and hill and valley it could find. You began to pant heavily as energy began to flood from your center and into your every fiber. Once again, the rope over your flesh began to feel different – intense and confining – welcome but unwelcome all the same. The speedy climb to your climax went from a ten to a sixty in a sudden burst of heat caused by a measured flick of his tongue, and you began to gasp for air as your thighs began to shake beneath his palms.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna come,” you announced.

“No, you’re not,” he replied, pulling his mouth from you and kneeling partially over you.

You wanted to scream. But before you could, his fingers replaced where his mouth had been, and he stroked your labia in moderate back and forth’s – not enough to make you come, but enough to keep you on the edge.

“Oh, shit,” your body tried to bend as he found your clit with expert precision, and began twisting and kneading the bud between his fingers.

"Please,Yoongi," you pleaded.

"I told you there would be consequences for being a brat. You're just gonna have to wait to come."

He then dragged his fingers south, his middle finger deep in your slit and its neighbors tight over its lips. Then he pushed them north again, all three pulling at your clit and its sensitive surrounds. He did this again and again, breaking to rub wildly on your swollen bud. The fire behind your navel which had been doused when he removed his mouth began to burn again, and with each passing motion it scorched even hotter.

“Nghh,” you whimpered, as a shock fired your body and stiffened your ligaments and muscles. You were going to come… he just needed to keep playing with your clit… right there… you were going to come…

“Not until I say, Y/N,” you heard his voice sing behind you as he once again removed the thing that was going to push you over the ledge.

“Oh, fuck–” you cut yourself off before you swore at him. If, as promised, dissent was going to make this worse, you were willing to be a fucking angel.

“What’s that you were going to say?”

“Nothing, sir,” you whimpered.

“You sure?”

You felt his fingers then press against your entrance - but barely. They were right there and if you had the power to move you would have slipped onto them yourself.

“Ugh… I’m sure. Please fuck me.”

“Good girl,” he droned, then he slipped two fingers into you, and your jaw slackened as the rest of your nerves twitched and sparked.

He pulled the pads of his fingers along your silky, wet chamber, in and out, exploring it at like the tunnel was laced with braille. In contrast to not long before, you now wanted the ability to spread your legs wide - this time so he could dig himself deeper and deeper into you. You wanted it all, hard and fast and right fucking now, and you sobbed when it dawned on your that that was probably not his plan - especially if you asked for it.

So you held your tongue and let him play with you. This time it took longer for you to see your orgasm again - but it did appear again, behind the darkness of the blindfold you could see it walking towards you. It was just a touch further away than before, and taking smaller, slower steps to get to you. But as it came closer, you wanted it more. You were hungry for it. You wanted to run towards it, and the excitement for it only mounted and mounted with every bend of Yoongi’s knuckles inside you.

You squeezed your eyes painfully shut, you muffled your moans, and tried so hard to focus on not announcing to him that you were about ready to come again.

But your body gave you away, and as it began to tremor around his fingers, and quiver the ropes holding you to the ceiling, he knew down to the second when you were going to release… and not a moment too soon did he withdraw his fingers.

“Not yet,” he mused again.

Fuck, you almost hated how much he knew about your body.

“God, what is this?” you cried, real tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

So far, he had given you an orgasm whenever the hell your body demanded it. He had never wasted time on edging you on… under the haze of the heat, you never needed to be edged into a climax that would make you hysterical. But this time, under his roof and his rules, the times were changing.

“You’ll thank me later, baby.”

“I fucking doubt it. I’ll just make you pay.”

“Mm, I’d love to see you try.”

“Fuck, Yoongi, pleaseee,” you wailed. “Please I need it!”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

But you didn’t think you were being dramatic. You were convinced if he didn’t make you come you would absolutely die of some instant blue balls starvation syndrome.

“Shit, please… I’m begging. I am…” your voice trailed off as you didn’t quite know what minefield you were walking through. What could you say to get him to fuck you into oblivion, and what could you not say that would keep this charade going. “I need you.”

“I like the sound of that,” you could hear his grin even through your blindness. Then you heard the faint clank of his belt, and you thanked every God you could think of for the honor of having his cock.

He positioned himself behind you, and you braced your body for him to fill you, holding your breath, as if any wrong move would alter his course.

You hummed a high noise as you felt the tip of his cock slip long and hard through your folds, then pause to circle itself around your needy and desperate clit. You clenched your teeth as he pulled it south again, slickening itself in your juices, then playing tauntingly around your entrance.

“You want my dick?” he asked.

“Yes,” you tremored.

“How bad?”

“So. Fucking. Bad.”

He dragged his cock north again, once more teasing your clit and lubricating his shaft. “Cuz you need it, right?”

“Yes?”

“You need me?”

“God, yes…”

He brought his tip to your entrance again, just barely broaching your folds, but readying it for launch. “Say it again.”

“I fucking need you!”

If you weren’t so damn unhinged at the moment, your heart may have fluttered at the possible implication of what he was asking and what you were saying… but there was no way you had room for anything but the need to have your guts ruined.

He rolled his hips forward, and you felt like an explosion happened within you. Every millimeter of your inside and out tingled and sparked. You felt lighter, despite his fatness in you making you heavier. The bindings around your body suddenly felt numb, while everything else felt as sensitive as a clit.

He filled you one gloriously excruciating inch at a time, gripping onto your sides as hie pulled you onto his hips and sunk himself into you.

He bottomed out, his pelvis now pressed tight to your ass, and his balls dangling against you. He rolled his hips in a smooth wave, pulling out of you and plunging back in, somehow deeper this time. Then he waved them again, and again, until soon he found exactly where he wanted to be, and he began to fuck you hard, and rough. The sound of your colliding bodies, claps of damp flesh meeting damp flesh filled the soundtrack around you, and mingled with your gasps and moans.

He too was far from composed. His groans were primitive and raw, and his every heave for air was laced with faint grunts and gutteral pleas for release.

You wanted to help him come… and now, ironically, you wanted this to last longer. But you were dangling helplessly over the bed, unable to meet his thrusts, unable to bend your back, or stretch your neck - or any of those gestures that helped you manage the pleasures of being pounded just right. Instead, you were trapped, left just to hang there. Destined to let him hold your hips and hammer into you like you were nothing but his fuck doll. You loved it… being used this way. Being used by him. To be his source of pleasure, and to let him play you like a toy. You wished you could see him behind you, or see anything for that matter - but the blindfold only let you feel, and hell you felt like your body had just generated double the number of sensors it had a day ago.

“Oh, my God!” you mewled, as two microgasms tormented your system.

“You wanna come?” he graveled.

“Not yet,” you panted, surprising not only him but yourself.

“Good girl,” he said, then you felt his arm wrap tightly around your waist, and the heat of his body over your back. The tension holding your arms released, and you realized it had released over your torso as well. He had untethered you from the ceiling. You dropped your hands to the mattress below you, and they shook weakly as if they had atrophied while strung behind your back. But he guided you gently down as the blood rushed back to them - and then, with a whipping snap, you felt your wrists pull tight, and slip forward on the bed.

They were tied down again - only this time probably to the head board or something. You were now prone to him in a new way - your legs still bound and unable to move, your ass high in the air just for his consumption, and your wrists restrained against the mattress, giving you little to no where to go. But as he began to thrust his cock into you, now hitting new, pleasurable angles, you loved how your body felt free to react to him, but also how it was still enslaved to his onslaught.

“Ugh,” you groaned, dipping your forehead between your arms and pulling your wrists against the restraints. “Fuck, baby, it feels so good.”

“You’re fucking amazing,” he coughed back. “I fucking love fucking you.”

“Ugh, I love being fucked by you,” you arched your back as his cock touched you right where you needed it to. “Right there…”

He dug his fingers into your hip, and you felt his hands sift through your hair, straightening your back and straightening himself. Then he began to jackhammer into that very place he had just found.

“Ohhh… God,” you barely managed to groan out before all air was pounded out of your lungs and all function was fucked out of your brain.

It was there - there it was - you were going to come again… he was assaulting the place that would make it happen. And it felt so good, this build up. Just another minute…

But in under a moment, something around you happened. You couldn’t see it, and you were already mindless - but in less than seconds, you found your back on the mattress, your hands crossed and still bound above your head, and his body between your knees. He had pulled out of you, and flipped you over, but was back inside you before you could barely realize what had happened.

But you were fucking glad it did - because now you could feel… all of him. His cock deep in your gut, his pelvis firm over your clit - his chest pressed against yours - his skin sliding smoothly over yours - his lips on your mouth.

He couldn’t kiss you for long, however, because within moments, his orgasm had begun to sink its claws into him, and all he could do was grunt and pant against your lips. The noises he made somehow fueled you further. You pulled at your restrained wrists, wanting to reach for him, and wrap yourself around him, and slice your nails through the skin of his back. But you couldn’t - it was frustrating but also hot as all hell as once again you had no choice but to just take it.

“I’m…” he warned, and you were delighted that this time he was the one falling apart first.

“Me too,” you told him, and it was true. Only seconds passed between you, and the thrusts of his hips became tight and quick, until he bursted with a loud, sharp exhale, and he began to spill his seed into you with long, sloppy and erratic pumps of his hips.

“Ohhohhh…” you cried as he pumped more cum inside you, and his cock hit that sweet spot inside you just one more sufficient time, and you came all over his cock, your chamber rumbling around him, pulling a near painful cry from his lips as he emptied more of himself into youyou came... so fucking hard... every unreleased orgasm clammering over each other to escape your body. Within mere seconds, you felt like you had run an 8 hour marathon, like all energy had been expelled from your body and left you lethargic and boneless.

It could have been the darkness of the blindfold, but you couldn't rule out the possibility that you had blacked out again.

When you came too, you felt his heavy, sweaty body heaving against you in tandem with his hot breaths on your neck.

But beneath him, you felt weightless, As everything tingled inside you like popping bubbles of air.

For minutes you felt like you could stay there forever, But then the need to wrap your arms around him and touch him and hold him close took over and you began to pull at your wrists again.

His face still buried in your neck, he reached above your head and with one tiny pull you felt the rope give around your wrists as he set you free.

You shook the cording from your wrists, removing your blindfold first then rubbing heat off your skin as he reached down and you felt him pull a slip around your ankle and release the binding on your leg. He did the same to the other, and soon you were able to stretch your limbs long, embracing the throb and pain of them lengthening themselves before you cradle him between you again. You dragged your palms over the definition of his back, realizing just how much you enjoyed the feeling of him on your fingers.

“You okay?” he asked.

“God, yes,” you smiled. “Can we do that again?”

“Of course, baby.”

“I want my hands next time. I like touching you.”

His lips caressed your neck, before he said, “I like when you touch me too.”

The heat inside you was once more satiated - even more than before - but now, it was being replaced by a natural desire of your own. You loved the feeling of him still buried inside you, even when he wasn’t hard - you wanted him there forever. He pulled himself from your crook, and dipped his face down to kiss you long and slow. Your hands cradle his face, holding him there just a bit longer, letting him know that you wanted him there, and he could stay as long as he cared too.

When you found the will to part, you sat up together, and he pulled you against him again, the way he did when he was creating the bodice around your waist, and began to work away at pulling it apart. You started curiously at the red marks the cut over your thighs and shins from where he had you tied, and then looked down at the bites and hickies he had left you with the night before. You were riddles with his marks from head to toe now - who the fuck cared about the nothing silver crescent over your shoulder - no one who saw you now would question that you weren’t his. And of all the things that had happened already, you liked that idea the most.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #myg #bts fanfic #bts smut

[earlgreytea68]

I Read West Virginia v. EPA So You Wouldn’t Have To

I told you I hadn’t forgotten these!

People have been referring to this as the climate change case, basically, shorthanding it that the Supreme Court made it more difficult for the EPA to manage climate change. I think that this is true, but it’s a case that is reasoned in such an incredibly byzantine way that the reason it’s harder for the EPA to manage climate change is because this opinion is so impossible to comprehend that the EPA no longer has any idea what it can and cannot do.  

At issue in the case is a rule that the EPA established in 2015 known as the Clean Power Plan. Under the plan, the EPA was trying to shift from coal-fired plants to natural-gas-fired plants, in order to reduce carbon dioxide emissions, as we all know is important for climate change. This would be expensive for coal plants, of course. If they couldn’t convert to better standards, they’d have to close down. People could lose their jobs. The rate of electricity could go up. We also might save the planet, but, you know, details.  

Almost as soon as the EPA established the rule, the Supreme Court blocked it from being enforced, in a move the dissent calls “unprecedented.” And then Donald Trump was elected and we decided to destroy as much of the environment as possible so the Clean Power Plan went away. The way it went away was the EPA suddenly decided that it did not have the authority to establish the Clean Power Plan. So the EPA tossed out the Clean Power Plan in favor of a different rule that would allow coal-fired plants to happily keep puffing along.  

A bunch of states complained. They said the EPA shouldn’t have tossed out the Clean Power Plan. They said they didn’t understand why the EPA had suddenly decided it wasn’t in their authority. So they went to court. The court said basically, “What the hell is the EPA up to?” and told the EPA to get its act together. It told it to go back and reconsider the Clean Power Plan. Then Biden was elected. The EPA didn’t actually put the Clean Power Plan back into effect. Instead, it was thinking about coming up with a completely new plan. (Part of the reason for that is that the power-source-shifting kind of happened a great deal already in the years that squabbling was happening over the Clean Power Plan, so the EPA was kind of like, “…we don’t need that plan anymore because its goals have been largely accomplished.” [It wasn’t super-revolutionary, despite how the Supreme Court characterizes it.] However, we don’t learn all of this stuff about the success of the “Clean Power Plan” while it wasn’t even implemented until the dissent tells us. The majority opinion makes it sound like the Clean Power Plan is so incredibly radical it must be stopped. It’s…already done.)

Enter the Supreme Court…somewhat weirdly. In fact, the first part of the Supreme Court’s decision is dedicated entirely to justifying the fact that it’s even making this decision. Like, the whole time the Supreme Court has been WEIRD about the Clean Power Plan. GEE, I WONDER WHY. I bet it doesn’t have anything to do with a bunch of conservatives who don’t believe in climate change being on the Court, though! Basically, this entire opinion seems to be just setting up the Supreme Court as the ultimate authority in what the EPA can do to affect climate change.  

So, anyway, the first part of the decision is explaining why the Supreme Court is allowed to make this decision. The Government argues that nobody has “standing” to bring the case. Standing is a legal concept that states that cases can only be brought by people who have some kind of interest in them. That makes sense, of course! You wouldn’t think that very often people would go to court who don’t have some kind of interest in the outcome, after all. But, anyway, the court system (all of them, not just the Supreme Court) just likes to make sure that you’ve got a reason to bring this case and you’re not trying to do something sketchy. So that’s the Government’s contention here: that no one has any reason to bring this case and this is all kind of sketchy. Basically, the Government’s like, Look, the EPA has decided not to go ahead with the Clean Power Plan, so why is this Court deciding anything about the Clean Power Plan??? It’s irrelevant.  

And therein, the Court claims, lies the problem with the Government’s argument: it’s not a standing argument, it’s a mootness argument.  

………Really?????

Yup, it’s a technicality. The Government argued standing and should have argued mootness. I think. But, lest you think the Government totally messed up here, the Court says the case isn’t moot just because the EPA has said it’s not going to implement the Clean Power Plan. The Court thinks this is just a ruse and once the case is dismissed, the EPA will immediately implement the Clean Power Plan.  

It is true that sometimes courts really worry about that possibility, but other times courts are like, …well, only an idiot would come in and lie to me about this. Like, if the EPA did exactly that, I would have to assume the Supreme Court would listen to any complaint that comes from it. They’ve certainly been extremely interested in suppressing this Clean Power Plan so far. And anyway, there is literally no reason for the EPA to say it’s not going to implement the Clean Power Plan and then turn around and implement it because...THE CLEAN POWER PLAN’S TARGETS HAVE ALREADY BEEN ACHIEVED. But we don’t learn about that until the dissent. The majority makes it sound like any minute now that dastardly EPA is going to twirl its mustache and admit that it was lying the whole time and it’s going to put the plan back into effect.  

Anyway, the Court here says: no standing issue, and not moot, I can totally make this decision.  

And the decision is: The EPA did not have authority to establish the Clean Power Plan.  

Okay, a little admin law: Federal agencies have authorizing statutes that set the parameters of what they’re supposed to be doing. This is to make sure that agencies don’t run amok. Like, the Federal Communications Commission should not be passing environmental rules, and the Environmental Protection Agency should not be regulating the internet. So, there are all these rules about making sure that agencies don’t overstep their boundaries. I have to confess that I didn’t take admin law in law school, so this is just everything I’ve gleaned over the years.  

The Supreme Court says that this is a situation where what the EPA has done is so extraordinary and of such significance that it can’t possibly be the case that Congress meant for the EPA to be able to do that. This is called the “major questions” doctrine. The EPA would have had to prove to the Supreme Court, under the doctrine, that Congress had clearly intended for the EPA to be able to do something like what it tried to do with the Clean Power Plan. And the Supreme Court says, …nope.

Okay, that’s the basic outline but the rest of the opinion is so esoteric to me, I really struggle to follow what they’re saying. It’s something about how the EPA used to understand that its job was to reduce pollution by causing existing power stations to operate more cleanly, and not to reduce pollution by shifting away from existing power stations toward cleaner ones. And that means that the only way Congress has authorized the EPA to reduce pollution is by maintaining coal power plants, apparently? Because the problem is that there is nothing coal power plants could do to put them into compliance with the Clean Power Plan; the point of the plan is to reduce their existence, and that, according to the Court, goes beyond what Congress intended the EPA to be able to do. 

The problem, to the Supreme Court, is the EPA’s plan is “broad” and “forward-thinking.” And we can’t have any of that, now, can we! The Supreme Court thinks the EPA’s mission is not to reduce pollution but rather just to regulate our existing pollutors, basically. They can regulate them somewhat, but not in any way that would be too upsetting to them. When the EPA tried to reduce pollution in a way that threatened coal power-plants, that was too revolutionary for the Supreme Court to handle.  

The Supreme Court says that, in shifting the power grid, the EPA is trying to get around Congress. Congress is the entity that should make the decision to shut down coal, not the EPA. And, here, the Clean Power Plan is apparently a plan that Congress failed to pass several times. So the Court’s like, If Congress can’t get it done, the EPA’s not allowed to just get it done by itself.  

The EPA argues, though, that, under its authorizing statute, Congress has ordered it to come up with “the best system of emission reduction.” And the EPA says that it’s done just that. There’s nothing in the statute that “the best system” has to maintain existing power plants.  

The Court says, no, actually, the Clean Power Plan isn’t a system of emission reduction. 

Just because it’s a system to reduce emission does not mean it’s a system of emission reduction. I honestly don’t know what to make of that Dr. Seuss sentence. And it’s the end of the paragraph! So apparently the Court doesn’t think it needs further elucidation, Idk. Like, this is why I said that this is such a byzantine case, because I don’t really understand how the reasoning goes. The key provision is Section 111, which never seems to get quoted in full for some reason so I can only “read” it through how it gets selectively quoted. (I could go track the statute down, but I think Supreme Court opinions should be understandable without me having to track down other sources.) As best as I can figure, Section 111 tells the EPA to make “categories of stationary sources” that cause or contribute to dangerous air pollution. After making these categories, Section 111 then tells the EPA to create standards of performance for these sources of air pollution. Under Section 111, these standards should be developed by looking at the “best system of emission reduction” (which the Court shortens to BSER), which will take into account cost.  

Okay, that seems to be it. According to the Supreme Court’s actual majority opinion, the goal of Section 111 is to keep air pollution regulated by the best system: 

Alright, so, having read the statute, we can now see that the EPA decided that the best way to reduce air pollution was to shift from coal to other less harmful means of power production. But then – Section 111(d) suddenly comes into play. Again, it’s never quoted in full, but I think that it seems to allow the EPA to regulate existing power plants? Because apparently the rest of the Section 111 is only about new power plants? I think it has to do with…if we figure out that something is dangerous and we didn’t know it was dangerous, the EPA can set standards about it, but…only for new sources of power????

Honestly, I keep reading this and re-reading this and I don’t think I’m being helpful at all. This clearly requires someone who’s an actual environmental attorney who understands this stuff who can explain what’s going on here. According to the Court, the EPA has only regulated existing power plants, like, five times in the past fifty years???? How can that be???? Is that true???? I mean, I guess that’s why our environment is such a mess, because if you’re an existing power plant apparently the EPA just…leaves you alone???? Honestly, I do not understand this system as explained by the majority at all.  

But I think I’m right in my reading of it, because then the Court explains that, in the Clean Power Plan, the EPA had decided to regulate carbon dioxide emissions (I guess we didn’t do this until 2015?????? God, I have no idea, this is all unbelievable to me) and once it decided to do that, it had to set standards – different standards, apparently, for new vs. existing power plants. 

Okay, so, the EPA looked at existing coal plants and was like, You know what? These are basically as clean as we can make them. We can’t get them to be much better about carbon dioxide. And we need them to be much better, because coal plants are releasing too much carbon dioxide into the air. So, because natural gas plants would produce much less carbon dioxide, the EPA said that the existing coal plants would need to shift to natural gas plants. The next step was to then shift the natural gas plants to wind or solar. This, the EPA says, was the best system for reducing emissions.  

It would also, obviously, be very disruptive to coal plants. The expressed goal of the program was to get rid of coal power plants, period, end of story. As soon as the EPA proposed the program, as I mentioned above, the Supreme Court shut it down, then Trump got elected. The EPA under Trump decided that the Clean Power Plan went too far because shifting the electric grid away from coal wasn’t a “system for reducing emissions.” A “system for reducing emissions” could only be, like, a new design for a building? Or something? Anyway, the EPA replaced the Clean Power Plan with the Affordable Clean Energy (ACE) Rule, which would upgrade equipment at coal power plants to help make them more efficient but wouldn’t try to shift the electrical grid over to less polluting sources. This would not really reduce carbon dioxide at all, as the majority opinion just bluntly says.  

Now, a number of states who were worried about climate change immediately protested and wanted the Clean Power Plan back, pointing out that this new ACE Rule wasn’t going to do much of anything at all. The lower court said that it didn’t know why the EPA thought it couldn’t shift the power grid, that was definitely allowed under Section 111. Then Biden got elected. The EPA said basically, “Hang on, we’re looking things over and trying to figure out where to go next.”  

…And then the Supreme Court, for no real reason other than they want to make it very clear how much they don’t believe in climate change – or don’t believe in administrative authority – or don’t believe that agencies should act unless the Supreme Court has personally approved them – swooped in.  

And the Supreme Court said yeah, always every other time, the “best system for reducing emissions” was just helping power plants operate more cleanly. This is the first time the EPA has announced that it can change the type of power plant. And the Supreme Court thinks that’s just too much. The Supreme Court says that Congress wanted the EPA to focus on technologies to improve air pollution, and not address the causes of the air pollution themselves. The Supreme Court thinks Congress should decide whether the power grid shifts and how.  

And it’s true that what the EPA is proposing is a “system,” but that doesn’t mean it’s the right kind of system. But I…don’t understand why. Idk, you can read for yourself and see if you get farther than I do. 

I mean, I think, if I’m reading that right, that the problem is that they don’t think Congress really meant to give the EPA the ability to establish a system. Even though…that’s exactly what the statute said. The Government argues, hang on, I don’t understand then. Are you saying, Supreme Court, that the EPA can only come up with systems that keep coal power plants in existence? And the Supreme Court says, We’re not answering that question. We’re only telling you that you can’t do this.  

Apparently, the Supreme Court wants to be able to weigh in every single time the EPA makes a decision to say what it thinks about it. The dissent points out, like, this is really restrictive of the EPA, because it gives them no guidance and makes everything subject to Supreme Court review. And the majority opinion spreads its hands out innocently and says, What?! Are you accusing me of interfering with the EPA?! You’re saying that I haven’t told them a bunch of stuff they can’t do! How can that be restricting them?  

This is so disingenuous, and we know that, because we don’t allow vague laws because we know people will over-police their behavior when they’re not sure what they can and cannot do. And that’s exactly what the Supreme Court does here. It gives zero real explanation what its definition of “system” is, just that it’s not this system.  

A standard feature of the liberal dissents over the past term is that they actually talk about, like, facts, and the present day. The Supreme Court’s majority opinion mentions climate change, like, twice. Which is a feat given it’s an opinion about environmental regulations. But, anyway, the dissent is pretty straightforward: We’ve got climate change, so we implemented a statute for the EPA to deal with it using the “best system.” Ta-da! Here it is. I mean, that’s really all I need to summarize what the dissent says. It backs up its argument with lots of citations, of course, but that’s basically the argument. The dissent notes that other sections of the EPA’s authorizing statute limit what the EPA can do to just fiddling around with technologies. So, if Congress wanted to put that limit into this part of the EPA, it knew exactly how to do it. This is a rule of statutory construction, meaning that it’s generally accepted that this is how we interpret statutes: If they did it somewhere else and not here, that must mean they didn’t want it here. The dissent points out that the majority doesn’t really explain why that rule of statutory construction doesn’t apply here.  

There’s a lot of stuff in this case about this “major questions doctrine.” The majority says it’s a doctrine they have that basically lets them interpret statutes differently, ignoring the usual rules of statutory construction / interpretation (sorry, in law “construction” and “interpretation” mean the same thing and can be used basically interchangeably, which is probably confusing outside of law oops). The dissent says there’s no such thing as this major questions doctrine. I really don’t know who’s right (but my money is on the dissent). But, at any rate, the dissent just doesn’t think the EPA is doing anything wild with the Clean Power Plan: It’s trying to regulate the environment, which is its whole job. 

That’s how the majority opinion characterizes it. But the dissent says, eh, that’s not really true. It actually wouldn’t have had any impact. The Clean Power Plan never went into effect, but the industry still exceeded the target it had set, all on its own, shifting the grid away toward clean power sources. In fact, the dissent informs us that the power industry itself is on the side of the EPA. Which means that this case isn’t even about trying to make money, because surely the power industry wants that. But the power industry agrees with the EPA’s Clean Power Plan! They’re not complaining about it! This case literally just seems to be about wanting to be cruel and vicious.  

The problem with this decision is its incredible vagueness. Its main justification for its ignorance of all of the usual rules we use to handle these questions is how revolutionary the Clean Power Plan is, which the dissent says isn’t even true. But then it follows that up, after throwing all the rules out the window, with zero actual helpful guidance as to what the EPA is allowed to do. For instance, the dissent points out that the majority says the Clean Power Plan would put coal plants out of business, and that’s not allowed under Section 111. But that’s not the majority’s holding. The majority doesn’t say, “The EPA is required to keep coal plants in business.” The majority says, “The EPA can only regulate technology to help make coal power cleaner.”  

But the dissent says, what if the way the EPA regulates the technology makes it so expensive to comply with that coal power plants would be forced to shut down? Is that allowed under the majority’s reasoning? Strictly speaking, yeeeees, it’s the EPA regulating technology, just as the majority said they should. BUT the majority was offended that the EPA might put coal power plants out of business, so it seems as if they would block the EPA doing that. And they would do that by coming up with some other weird reading of the statute that would probably narrow the definition of “technology” or something. The point is: Who knows what the EPA can and cannot do anymore?  

#long post #law #west virginia v epa

[mariacallous]

In late July, the Hong Kong judiciary quashed the city’s attempt to ban “Glory to Hong Kong,” a pro-democracy anthem that rose to popularity during the 2019 protests in the territory. In his ruling, High Court Judge Anthony Chan dismissed concerns that the ban would violate freedom of speech or stifle dissent. Instead, Chan threw out the authorities’ injunction because it was vague, ill-defined, and unenforceable. “The evidence contains little in terms of specificities on how the Injunction would … reduce the prevalence of the Song,” he wrote. “In truth, the answer to much of [the government’s] contentions rests in effective enforcement … I am unable to see how the Injunction would assist.”

It’s not often that a legal opinion takes on an authoritarian government for not being good at authoritarianism, but that’s what Chan’s ruling amounts to. As it turns out, in the Hong Kong of 2023—a city lurching into oppression while clinging onto the remnants of the rule of law—Beijing’s enforcers often aren’t all that good at their jobs.

In the aftermath of pro-democracy protests in 2019 and 2020, the Chinese Communist Party passed a draconian national security law that all but quashed dissent in the previously autonomous city. Since then, Beijing has leaned heavily on a team of hand-picked local officials to maintain an increasingly repressive status quo.

Indeed, in Hong Kong’s bewildering new political reality, strategic missteps now pass for official policy. Take the proposal to ban “Glory to Hong Kong.” Even before the judiciary’s intervention, the government’s misguided efforts had already brought more, not less, attention to the anthem. In a classic example of the Streisand effect, as soon as plans to restrict “Glory to Hong Kong” were announced, the song soared to the top of the city’s iTunes charts.

Other attempts at censorship have gone wildly overboard. In May, the Leisure and Cultural Services Department ordered a crackdown on politically sensitive books with the potential to offend Beijing. Scrambling to comply, workers pulled titles such as George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm—both of which are widely available in mainland China—off library and school bookshelves. Even more inexplicable was the removal of works by Lu Xun, an early 20th-century writer lauded as a revolutionary hero and taught in the Chinese school system. “Lu Xun’s books were not censored even during the height of the Cultural Revolution, but they are censored in today’s Hong Kong,” a local editorial opined. “We’ve become a laughingstock.”

Then, in early July, Hong Kong sparked international outrage when officials placed bounties on the heads of overseas dissidents living in the United States, Britain, and Australia. The plan, which authorities acknowledged was a largely empty threat, quickly backfired: Instead of stifling opposition, the bounties emboldened the dissidents, who landed high-profile media appearances and brought renewed attention to Hong Kong’s authoritarian plight. The decision also upturned officials’ attempts to reassure Western businesses that the city was open for business as usual. “It’s confusing why you would do something like the bounties that create a news story about repression when it was kind of going away,” said Jeffrey Wasserstrom, a historian who studies modern China.

More of these ill-conceived measures are coming down the pipeline. The government announced in March that it plans to pass an amendment prohibiting discrimination against mainland Chinese visitors by the end of the year. How exactly authorities intend to monitor and prosecute discrimination between people of the same ethnicity and nationality remains uncertain.

To be clear, the Hong Kong government’s tendency to get in its own way is not for a lack of loyalty. Hong Kong Chief Executive John Lee, whom Beijing hand-picked through a sham election, has pledged that Chinese President Xi Jinping’s directives have become Hong Kong’s “blueprint for governance” adding that authorities are “fully committed to live up to the mandate.” Over in the local legislature—which Beijing stripped of all pro-democracy parties in 2021—lawmakers frequently and enthusiastically invoke Xi by name.

Instead, the issue is that Hong Kong leaders have very little experience working closely with the mainland Chinese political system—and as a result, have very little idea how to implement Beijing’s directives.

Under Xi’s rule, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has adopted an increasingly centralized, top-down governance approach in which senior officials issue directives to their subordinates, who are then expected to obey without question. Given that the directives can sometimes be notoriously vague—Xi has been known to issue one-sentence notes on major policy matters—subordinates have to scramble to correctly interpret directives from above.

In the mainland, this system (more or less) functions because Chinese officials spend years rising  through the ranks of municipal- and provincial-level governments, learning how to interpret the will of their superiors. At the upper echelons, leaders are promoted according to their personal ties to Xi, further ensuring that his directives are correctly understood. Plus, when it comes to regional leadership, Xi has a track record of choosing former scientific administrators—relatively technocratic officials with a proven ability to follow directions—to run prominent cities such as Beijing, Shanghai, and Chongqing.

Not so for Hong Kong. Despite his loyalty to Beijing, Lee is a consummate outsider and Hong Kong native who has never been a member of the CCP, let alone worked his way through party ranks. As a Cantonese speaker and practicing Catholic who spent 20 years working under the British colonial government, Lee is highly unlikely to share any kind of connection with Xi, nor does he have the kind of tightly built mainland networks that his CCP counterparts enjoy.

Lee is not even seen as a skilled politician or a competent technocrat. The chief executive spent four decades as a blue-collar, career police officer before being passed over for the department’s top job in 2011. The combination of these factors means that Lee and his colleagues are constantly overcompensating—although they have pushed hard-line policies aimed at building their credit with Beijing, their decisions have largely ended up backfiring.

Of course, the mainland government faces its own host of issues. Even without the involvement of faulty officials, Xi’s centralization of power has already led to a spate of unwanted consequences; the recent economic slowdown threatening China’s long-term growth is largely a product of Xi’s unwillingness to listen to his own policymakers and enact pragmatic reforms.

But it turns out that faulty officials are also pervasive throughout the mainland. Although Hong Kong’s dysfunction tends to attract more attention due to the city’s status as an international finance hub, the problem posed by loyal but incompetent officials is widespread in China. The disconnect between Beijing and regional authorities was especially prominent during China’s zero-COVID period, when local governments often imposed implausibly strict quarantine controls to demonstrate adherence to Beijing’s policies. (A small city in the western Yunnan province, for example, paid billions of yuan to set up a facial recognition camera system that tracked the precise movements of all 270,000 residents.) By mid-2022, even the central government was forced to admit some local officials had been too overzealous in setting zero-COVID policies and fired administrators involved in particularly egregious cases.

Unlike in the mainland, however, Beijing has no easy way to make large-scale course corrections in Hong Kong without attracting undue attention and looking weak. For now, the central government has little choice other than to stand behind Hong Kong and present a united front.

Meanwhile, Hong Kong’s judiciary, which has to rule on these decisions, is caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. The city’s courts, which maintain a common law system inherited from the British, ostensibly operate independent of both the Hong Kong government and the mainland; Hong Kong judges are acutely aware that international businesses rely on their courts to enforce the rule of law. Yet judges are also acutely aware that they must correctly interpret Beijing’s will—or risk being overruled by the CCP’s decidedly noncommon law system. Going forward, figures such as Chan, the judge in the “Glory to Hong Kong” case, will have the unenviable task of choosing between obeying Beijing or sustaining Hong Kong’s patchwork rule of law.

Beijing’s tolerance for Hong Kong’s flailing leadership could eventually change. Carrie Lam, Lee’s predecessor as chief executive, assumed that passing a contentious extradition bill on her own initiative would prove her loyalty to Beijing. Instead, the bill kicked off the 2019 pro-democracy protests and plunged Hong Kong into chaos. As punishment, Lam was forced to retire at the expiration of her first term and was denied a position on China’s central political advisory body, an honor awarded to all but one previous Hong Kong chief executive.

Lam’s successor hasn’t sparked widespread protests, but Lee’s policies—as overzealous, haphazard, and erratic as they already are—still threaten to draw the mainland’s ire. It’s impossible to predict under what circumstances Lee will exit his office, but the issues at play here aren’t endemic to Hong Kong’s current batch of officials.

Beijing may have wrested control of Hong Kong, but as long as the central government relies on local leaders to oversee even the most innocuous of policies, missteps and tensions will inevitably arise—which, in a place such as Hong Kong, can still prove to be deadly.

[jolie-goes-downton]

Why I have concerns about the wisdom of Thomas Barrow’s choice to go with Guy Dexter at the end of Downton Abbey: A New Era

Disclaimer first: I was asked to put this meta together by someone who ships Thomas/Guy, but said they were trying to understand in good faith where the sceptics got their doubts from.

If you (general you - whoever reads this) are happy with Thomas’ choice and dissenting opinions on this are likely to upset you, DO NOT READ THIS META. I mean it. Back off now. I won’t be taking any complaints about me ruining your fun or spreading negativity if you read beyond this point in spite of a clear warning.

Likewise, my prompter and I are making a serious attempt at having a civil discussion that is respectful of the opposing view both in tone and in content. You’re welcome to add comments of your own that either agree or disagree, but if you don’t manage to disagree without being judgy, without policing (or ridiculing) other people’s preferences or emotions, without provoking or insulting the other side, or without badmouthing any of the characters or actors involved, you’re out.

The following statements are also MY PERSONAL OPINION. They are CONCERNS about what MIGHT go wrong. That’s not the same as saying THINGS WILL or MUST go wrong. (If you have trouble making that distinction, maybe you should click that back button now, too.)

Ready? Good.

Numbered for easy reference, not to reflect a ranking.

1. Thomas’ backstory / JF’s storytelling choices

I get the feeling that Thomas’ choice to go with Guy is being sold to us as “Thomas finally takes control of his fate”, but actually, JF has given Thomas a terrible track record when it comes to proactively “taking control of his life”. Yes, he’s always fallen on his feet somehow, but only at a terrible price. Volunteering to go to war rather than being fired (survived but paid for with PTSD) - Blighty wound (survived but paid for with mortal fear/permanent disfigurement/possible disability) - Black market scheme (survived but paid for with loss of savings and a good deal of self-respect) - Jimmy kiss disaster (survived but paid for with horrible verbal abuse from Carson and being beaten bloody at the Thirsk fair) - CYOP “therapy” (survived but paid for with physical illness and increased depression), leaving Downton for new butler job (survived but paid for with painful farewells, loneliness and isolation) … every time Thomas tried to better his life, he’s survived but been whumped for it beyond belief, both physically and emotionally. And that’s not a law of nature or Thomas’ fault - it’s just the way JF writes him. After DA1, many of us thought JF had finally allowed Thomas to break that pattern, especially after it transpired that the new big disappointment JF had planned for the ending of DA1 (Richard turning out to be married) got scrapped in favour of a more hopeful, upbeat ending. But in DA2, Thomas just gets whumped again (Barris breakup) to make room for a new development. I honestly don’t trust JF as far as I could kick him at this point that he won’t just pull the same trick again if the franchise should go on, just for the sake of drama. If you feel certain that THIS is the one time when JF will say goodbye to the pattern he’s been sticking to for 12 years now, good for you, but I don’t see where the certainty comes from, given JF’s track record.

2. Guy Dexter as a character

I agree that they went out of their way to make Guy Dexter a generally likeable character. He’s modest and hasn’t forgotten that he started small, he has self-doubts, he’s also easygoing, and he doesn’t give a damn for the rigid class system and social barriers. So I, too, see no indication that there’s anything in the core of his personality that could be considered a red flag in the sense of “uh oh, better stay away from this man”. It’s not completely outlandish to assume that he may have unpleasant or difficult personality traits as well (who hasn’t), but they’re clearly not supposed to come into the story (so far). Guy does one thing though that continues not to sit well with me, and that’s his behaviour in the pantry scene. He walks in on Thomas uninvited in a quiet moment late at night (Thomas is off duty, few people are still around), into the only personal safe space Thomas has at Downton (apart from his attic bedroom, presumably), where even the members of the upstairs family don’t go without apologising profusely. He catches Thomas off guard, symbolised (I felt rather clumsily/transparently) by having his coat off. He closes the door, which I feel can be read as cornering Thomas. Thomas struggles to put his coat (i. e. armour) back on, clearly caught on the wrong foot, and expresses his discomfort by pointing out (twice!) that this is a very irregular situation. (To me, his discomfort is real at this point, not just used to tease or play hard to get.) Guy, however, doesn’t apologise or give Thomas space, he just says HE doesn’t care. Thomas relents then and lets the conversation continue, but does he relent because he’s starting to feel comfortable with the situation after all, or is it because he just doesn’t know how to say ‘no’ to an upstairs person without hurting himself? Thomas has been a servant all his adult life (with one short interruption of following orders of another kind, i. e. in the military), probably even since his teenage days, so he knows that if a servant rubs an upstairs person up the wrong way, it’s always the servant who pays the price. Would he even have the choice to take back control of or end this irregular situation? And what about Guy, is he even aware that Thomas is literally trapped? His background suggests that he didn’t grow up in a house full of (male) servants, nor was he ever a servant himself. So he probably doesn’t even realise that they’re not meeting on equal terms, and unfortunately his attitude (“I don’t care about these things”) suggests that he might not bother looking into the matter even if he was told that it could be an issue. Then Guy proceeds to make his offer in barely veiled terms, and - under the guise of helping Thomas straighten his coat - touches him in a way for which there is, IMO, no platonic explanation, startling Thomas quite a lot. All of this comes across to me as rather intrusive. Not predatory or even terribly threatening in itself, but curiously tone-deaf to the dynamics that underlay any upstairs/downstairs interaction in that day and age, and also unwilling (“I don’t care”) to acknowledge that they might be an issue for the other person involved. It might be simple for Guy to ignore rules that don’t suit him, but it’s definitely not simple for Thomas, and I’m not impressed that Guy either doesn’t realise that or brushes it aside. To me, this doesn’t bode well for how successful Guy will be understanding Thomas’ past struggles and trauma.

If you think this scene is peak romance for that precise reason, Prince Charming coming to lift Cinderella from the ashes into a better life, where she can heal from the trauma of having been a downtrodden servant all her life, good for you. But I would have much preferred it if Prince Charming had first asked Cinderella what SHE wanted from life, on neutral ground, and keeping his hands to himself while he did it, too.

And this impression I get, I’m afraid, is not healed by Guy’s later qualification that his offer can mean “as much or as little as you want”. If I was an employee and a customer walked into my break room after closing time, uninvited, and touched my boobs without asking my permission, I’d hit him on the nose, no matter whether he said later that it was up to me to interpret that gesture as meaningless if I so preferred.

3. Power imbalance

This leads us to my next point, the much-cited power imbalance between the two of them. Guy may not “care”, but it’s of course there when they first meet, and they’re clearly planning to continue it, if in a milder form. They won’t just be pretending that Thomas is Guy’s PA (I use this as shorthand for his future job in LA). He WILL be Guy’s PA. Now I don’t want to badmouth anyone working as a PA, but I have trouble seeing it as the pinnacle of his career as Thomas has always wanted it. He used to be ambitious - he wanted either to get out of service or to at least come out on top in that career. If he’s now changed his mind (and people sometimes do, especially when they approach middle age and start wondering what really matters in life) - that change comes kinda out of nowhere. A single line could have established that (“Success in your job isn’t everything, right?”), but since there’s nothing of the sort in DA2, to me Thomas now just has the worst of both worlds, job-wise - he’s still a servant, not his own man, and he’s not even in surroundings where he’s known and respected and at the top of the pecking order.

I also have concerns about the job offer and the romantic partner offer being a package. Sure, some people get together with/marry their boss and still keep working for them. Or a couple may decide to start a business or take up jobs at the same company where one gives the orders and the other follows them. Both can turn out well. But it’s an extra pain to untangle if the romantic side of things goes wrong. Definitely an added complication. All the more so since Thomas is the one moving to the other side of the world where he knows no one except Guy. Thomas is the one making all the sacrifices here. For him, everything changes. For Guy, not so much, he’ll continue as before, just with the added bonus of a lovely man who’ll “make him comfortable”, no risks involved, no chances taken. If things go wrong between them, Guy just goes back to what he had before, but Thomas will be stranded, friendless, in a foreign country. “I gave up everything I had to be with you” may strike some people as peak romance, too, but it just sets my teeth on edge. There’s no way that isn’t going to rear its ugly head again if there’s ever trouble in paradise. So Guy’s offer creates a triple dependence of Thomas on him - economically/financially (as employee), emotionally (as lover) AND socially (Guy being Thomas’ door opener into the LA film and gay scene). So Thomas’ investment into this relationship strikes me as totally out of proportion compared to Guy’s own minimal one, and that would trouble me on behalf of anyone. But Thomas especially always seemed to resent dependence and value whatever autonomy he had or tried to achieve, so it grates for him especially.

4. Mental Health

I’ve said it before, I’d really like to hear a mental health professional’s take on this: Is it advisable for a person with a history of depression, and who attempted suicide when he was overwhelmed by loneliness and job insecurity (as well as society’s repressive attitudes towards his sexuality), to give up everything he has in terms of job stability and social contacts, and move away halfway across the globe, staking his future job satisfaction, his romantic needs AND his opportunities for social interaction on ONE person only? Whom he met only a month or two ago, and mostly interacted with on a professional level? Burning your bridges can be cathartic, sure, but it’s also damn dangerous IMO if you have a history like Thomas. Again, I’m so keen on hearing an MH pro’s take on this.

Connected to this, other people are far more well-read than I am in the history of Hollywood, but it doesn’t sound like the ideal place to me for a person who’s already struggling with MH issues, nor for a person with apparently extremely high standards of being “openly” and “honestly” yourself. (Wouldn’t Guy, as a celebrity and a world-renowned heartthrob, be extra pressured to present a heteronormative front to the world?)

I would feel better about this aspect if Thomas had taken it slowly. Maybe kept up a correspondence with Guy at first, got to know him better and vice versa. Or got a free trial, with the option to return to his home country and old job any time. (Yeah, not possible in a 2 hr ensemble cast movie, I know I know - but then maybe don’t put storylines into a 2 hr ensemble cast movie that simply don’t work in that format!) As it is now, there’s just no plan B. Thomas/Guy is doomed to succeed. That doesn’t feel particularly safe or reassuring to me.

5. The Rebound Aspect

We have no exact timeline on how the Barris breakup played out. Had they been discussing the marriage issue for months and the letter Thomas mentions to Mrs H was just the final nail in the coffin? Or did it come totally out of the blue as a very new, sudden rejection? How far had their relationship even developed? Had they met again, gone further than a kiss, or had they just corresponded? We don’t know. I do feel that Thomas’ disappointment (when he talks to Mrs H) is very real and palpable though. He’s quiet, his voice almost toneless, but I read that as deep despair/defeat, not as a lack of emotional investment. At any rate, he doesn’t seem to be past that at all, he’s not done, it seems very raw and fresh. Again, my question to the relationship counsellor: Is this a good time to make the utterly life-changing decision to bind yourself to a person you’ve only known for a month or so in every future respect of your life (job, romance and social contacts) and follow them to the other side of the world to live henceforth according to their rules?

Guy seems rather tone-deaf to that aspect, too. He’s not pushing Thomas towards his decision against Thomas’ will, but he’s definitely encouraging it (literally hanging around outside the door while Thomas hands in his resignation, and praising him for having done well when Thomas comes out). Thomas may not have told him about Richard at all, of course, or not been honest about the extent of his disappointment, in which case this isn’t Guy’s fault. But if he does know, that doesn’t impress me as a particular sensitive or unselfish attitude either.

JF could not have pleased me with any variation of a Barris breakup, obviously, but I would worry less about the wisdom of Thomas’ decision if Barris had been explicitly retconned as never having taken off in any meaningful way to start with (because Richard was already married and Thomas instantly backed off when he heard it, for example). That would at least have removed the rebound concern.

So that’s, in a nutshell (an admittedly very big nutshell), why I’d find it really hard to embrace Thomas/Guy as being absolutely destined for a happy ending, even if I hadn’t given my heart elsewhere already. The catches are just too many and too big for me.

Oh and please nobody waste your breath sending me comments like “If you can’t accept Thomas is finally happy, you clearly don’t truly love him!” Obviously, if I didn’t love him, I just wouldn’t give a fuck.

#thomas barrow #downton abbey #downton abbey a new era #downton abbey 2 #da2 spoilers #downton abbey 2 spoilers #thomas barrow da2 meta

[bunnyadvocate]

Hello, I read your post on the history of r/visualnovels and I noticed it was from 2018 so I was wondering what your thoughts on the subreddit's current state are, if you don't mind talking about it.

First, a disclaimer. I’ve not been involved with /r/visualnovels for ~6 years, so I don’t have much insider knowledge and you shouldn’t take any of my commentary too seriously. With that out of the way, let’s do a history recap since my last post. 

At the time of my 2018 subreddit history post, the subreddit was slowly being strangled by a mod team who was still operating under the old heavily-curated mindset, where non-news posts were ruthlessly removed, but without the balance of organising community events and engaging with the subreddit community, instead spending their time on Discord. 

The following couple of years followed this same path. Occasionally there would be a post where folk complained about the overly-restrictive posting rules and lack of mod team engagement, to which a fresh mod member would be added with promises of change. Each new mod would follow a similar arc of engaging for a couple of months, but then wouldn’t be seen outside of Discord. (Shout out to Demeteloaf, the only mod who genuinely worked hard for the subreddit throughout his tenure. But one low-tier mod couldn’t overcome the impassive inertia of the rest of the mod team.)

This pattern finally broke in ~2020 when Nai got added as a mod. Nai (like insanityissexy) is one of the few people who had a vision for the community and the self-drive to make it happen (see his EVN dev community work). Whether his plan for a more EVN friendly subreddit would have been good or bad, or even feasible in the face of a userbase that was broadly impassive or hostile towards EVNs, is something I’ll skip over. Either way, Nai was left to be the face of change at a time when reddit as a whole was becoming more restrictive on “loli” content. Whether the “no sexualising the loli” rule Nai announced was merely following reddit’s rules, or a push towards catering towards EVNs (where “loli” content was rare, unlike Japanese VNs), I’ll leave to the reader to decide.

Regardless of the motivation, this was another rule on top of an already restrictive rule-set by a mod team that rarely engaged with the subreddit community. It angered both the loli-fans and those who felt this was yet another imposition by an out-of-touch mod team.

Cue Gambs. 

I would never have guessed Gambs would come roaring back. He never expressed any interest in the subreddit when I was a mod, nor did he seem interested in VNs. He’d only read ~7 and that was years earlier. 

It was an absolute rout of the old mod team. Even the friends they called in from Discord couldn’t offer more than a “maybe the mods will perform better in future?” defence in the face of a userbase utterly fed up with them. Again, a shout-out to Demeteloaf who stood by his principles and publicly stood up to Gambs’ takeover, but a solo mod can be dismissed easily. The rest of the mod team were far too used to hiding behind their mod powers to silence dissent to be able to sway public opinion against a mod who had more power than them.

Gambs clearly had no idea what he was doing though, as he threw mod powers at first users to profess agreement with his takeover. Fortunately the first two users were the right choice, SuperAnge and Tauros. Both old community members who genuinely cared about the subreddit. 

They removed almost all of the posting restrictions, and put to rest the argument about whose fault the subreddit’s poor state was. I’d previously wondered whether Discord’s popularity was always going to doom the sub, but Ange and Tauros showed there was a lively subreddit community if only you let them post. /r/visualnovels ‘activity exploded, and the old mod’s attempt to recreate the former heavily-curated version on /r/vns died to inactivity. 

As well as being wrong about Gambs’ return, I was also wrong about Gambs’ departure. I assumed he wouldn’t have any ongoing interest in the subreddit. He didn’t seem to read VNs any more, who would be care about the community? Well it turns out he’s addicted to drama as badly as I was during my depressed phase of life. While Gambs’ cloaked his behaviour as trolling, the litany of grievances he’d repeatedly bring up showed how sensitive he was towards criticism (yes, I’m aware of the irony of me calling out someone else for holding onto grievances). As someone who had similar issues, I genuinely believe Gambs needs the help of a therapist.

Regardless of the cause, Gambs was the source of repeated drama on the subreddit in the years since. Getting into disputes with former community members, translators, localisers, and now even VNDB. He tries to wield the subreddit as a weapon, directing them as those he’s upset with, but with limited success while Ange and Tauros were holding the line and limiting his drama posts. But if you oppose someone with ego issues, sooner or later you become their enemy, and eventually Ange and Tauros were removed. Shout out to Tauros who repeatedly opposed Gambs’ misbehaviour, knowing he’d be removed as a mod for it. It’s a shame Ange wouldn’t publicly back him up, likely the only well-liked community member who might have rallied the subreddit.

So that finally brings us to the current-day, a subreddit with minimal rules outside of criticising the dear-leader. On the positive side, the subreddit has never been more active. While I’m not into all the meme/image posts, there’s no denying the community as a whole likes them given their upvotes. This is more the direction I originally wanted to take the subreddit, giving it more freedom, but with one significant missing piece: I think the subreddit should be split. With the activity the sub gets now it should be possible to divide some activity, having a sub dedicated to discussions and another for news posts, perhaps splitting JVNs and EVNs while leaving the core sub as a free-for-all. That way those who want to engage in discussions or are fans of EVNs aren’t drowned out by JVN memes.

We tried this once with limited success when me and insa made /r/vnsuggest to redirect /r/visualnovels users who wanted VN recommendations, although in that case we also removed the original /r/visualnovels posts too. 

In theory there’s already a split, /r/vns as a news/discussion hub has revived after Gambs continued drama forced regulars away, but the antagonism between the mod teams (or rather Gambs’ antagonism towards everyone else) means many user’s on /r/visualnovels aren’t aware of the alternative subs and so can’t make informed choices about where they subscribe. 

Another approach could be to replicate /r/anime’s methods, where they have specific days for posting memes and a series of megathreads.

As for the future, I expect if the /r/visualnovels mods aren’t going to offer a more curated experiences for those who want it, others will try to create their own subs. But it’s unlikely Gambs would look upon that with approval and seek to stifle any mention of a successful alternative, so the userbase are stuck with the free for all on /r/visualnovels for the foreseeable future.

I’m not sure how useful any of my rambling has been, but I hope it’s been an amusing read. Obviously I have a bias against some of the old mods so you should factor that in. 

P.S. Not directly subreddit related, but I think Gambs getting banned from Twitter is probably the best thing that could have happened for him. It massively limits his opportunity to spark drama and get himself into self-destructive fights. Fewer feuds is good for him and good for the subreddit.