#[ me titling a thread for the first time in like a year?? yes ]

[teaandspite]

The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

Part 3

[flamingpudding]

I'm so sorry I didn't get to finish but as Dan's Teekl is a Phoenix snake and he takes after Vlad since of dressing

When something big is going on the magical world and they need King Phantom's help he decides to bring along his children this is how the Justice League finds out just like Robin is a past dumb title so is Klarion all the Justice League deal with a bunch of hyper up chaotic children who have been antiheroes let's find out

I wanted this to be just like a we are robbing thing except with Clarion all of them showing off the fact that Teekl have never been a cat would be so funny to me

Anywho I haven't been able to come up with anymore ideas for Dan is Klarion but I did come out with this one hope you find it funny sorry that I messed up on the first part of the writing

Okay... so version one got deleted, per my rant post notices... so here is version two hopes to that it will still be as good... also... i didn't remember how I ended this the first time soooooo yea... sorry again for having messed up in between...

[Link to the first part of the Ask here!]

I hope this will still be as enjoyable....

------------------

Vlad didn't regret a lot of things but he regretted having told Bruce Wayne that he had a way of summoning the Ghost King. Why you ask? Because Bruce Wayne apparently leaked that information to the Justice League.

Well originally Vlad had told Bruce only about this because he was after the deal he had wanted for years with Wayne Enterprise. That man had been able to avoid Vlad for years now, and during his years when he hadn't been a redeemed man it had infuriated him.

But he was a redeemed man now. He had reformed his entire Company and since Wayne Enterprise was contracted with the Justice League, he had felt it was appropriate to boost that his Company had valuable connections too.

He also just wanted to rub it into Brucie Waynes face that he wasn't the only one with big name Hero / other worldly connections department. Okay it might have been a bit of an ego thing left. But he was a redeemed man.

And because he was a redeemed man he had not used his ghost powers to throw Batman out of the window the hero had used to barge into his hotel room at 3 -goddamn- AM only to demand the method on how to summon the ghost king.

No sir, Vlad was a redeemed man, he was nice now, a good guy.

He only grumbled and demanded the reason, which apparently was a demonic thread to the magical world that indirectly could wipe out the entire world itself. Great, little badger will not be amused hearing about that.

Daniel would be cross with him for using the summoning stone in the middle of the night but Batman was giving him a valid reason to use it. Surely Daniel would understand right? Plus Vlad could use that as change to see the little badger again. It had been a while since he last saw him.

Well Vlad regretted agreeing with Batman with the condition that he would be the one to do the summoning. That man in a bat suit did not hesitate to drag Vlad with him then bringing him, blindfolded mind you, to a place where he then was faced with several heroes, including but not limited to the Justice league.

Just great.

At least Vlad got to inform Danial about the situation and the reason for his summon as Ghost King via summoning stone, even if that blond British man had scoffed when he saw Vlad pulling it out, about the situation and what the little badger could expect the moment he stepped out of a portal.

What Vlad did not expect were several RED portals opening and similarly dressed young adults as well as one teen stepping out of them.

"Sup old man! Mom told us you called him about some world ending problem!" Dan greeted him in his Klarion get up, perfectly styled hair and his ghost pet, a phoenix snake, Snape (yes Dan named his pet after a mage from a wizard movie series) on his shoulders. Vlad could feel the distinctive illusion magic around the pet and he was pretty sure everyone without ghost powers were not able to see through it.

"KLARION?!" One of the present heroes yelled.

And of course all of the kids had to answer in reflect turning to where the voice came from at the same time.

"Yea"

There was a brief moment of silence in which Vlad face palmed.

"Ah sorry, that was on reflex. Old habits die hard!" Ellie laughed, she had grown into a young woman and was currently wearing what looked like a black suit crossed with a 90s style witch dress.

"I am the current Klarion, lose that fucking habit already." Dan grumbled annoyed as he crossed his arms glaring at every sibling that had answered to his alias.

"I am telling mom you cussed." Ellie instead grinned instead, before she looked around for a moment before her eyes landed on Nightwing, her face instantly lighting up. "ROBIN! I mean Nightwing! I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Do I know you?" Vlad could feel sorry for the hero, but these where the phantom kids, so he wasn't in the slightest and he was still cross with he heroes for waking him up at 3AM!

"I am hurt! Don't you recognise me!" Ellie gasped and Dan unashamedly elbowed her for acting so familiar.

"Misrule." He warned her. Ellies current Anti-Hero -Chaos Agent- Alias Vlad remembered. A name she specifically chose because it sounded like Miss Rule and she knew that the word play would annoy Nabu. That girl had some serious beef with the Ancient of Order.

"Oh shush little brother! Let me reconnect with the kids I used to mess with!" She shushed Dan ruffling his hair and nearly messing up his horned hairstyle, before turning back to Nightwing. "Don't you remember my lovely Armadillos? Though I only know you were the Robin I first meet because I looked into Grandpa Clock's time mirrors..."

There was a brief moment of silence on the other side where the heroes stood and Vlad swore he could have heard a pin needle drop.

"Oh god..." One of them finally spoke up as apparently some kind of realisation sunk into the heroes. But before Ellie could add anything more the one Vlad recognised as Red Robin cut in.

"Klarion is like Robin!"

"RR what are you...?"

"The title of Klarion got passed down like Robin!"

There was another brief moment of silence before Dan, Ellie and the rest of their siblings burst out laughing.

"It took you idiots this long to see that?!" Dan called them out, laughing as he hugged Snape.

Vlad would probably feel sorry for the entirety of the heroes before him if he wasn't amused by this himself, even he had seen the differences whenever 'Klarion' got passed on.

"For your information, I was the first Klarion, so i could mess with Nabu." Ellie grinned. "I was also the one that used a bit to much eyeliner."

"I never got the the horned hairstyle right."

"I was the one with a fancy black suit."

One by one the phantom kids listed of all the differences in their versions of Klarion until they all looked towards the youngest Dan, the current Klarion.

"What?" He grumbled as his elder siblings grinned at him.

"Fucking fine. I use a suit similar to the old man's style and I like to do more than just mess with Nabitch." He muttered after enduring his siblings stares for.

"And you cuss." Ellie grinned brightly causing the rest of the siblings to to chuckle.

Vlad recognised the look in Dan's eyes and before the kids could break out into an argument or a brawl, depending how violent Dan was feeling, he coughed loudly to get noticed by everyone.

"World threatening situation." He reminded everyone. "Where is your mother? The Ghost King?"

"Oh Mom is already dealing with the situation." Dan shrugged. "We more or less came to watch and see the heroes suck and fail at 'Order' to rub it into Nabitch's face."

Vlad really wanted to scowl the kids and he was going to but then the heroes cut in again.

"Can we get back to the thing about Klarion being a title passed down like Robin? With how many different Klarions did we have to deal with over the years!?"

"Red Robin not the right time..."

"Yes the right time! So many comments from Klarion make sense now! Like the first time he went right up into my face!"

"Red Robin!"

"Oh that was still me! The first Klarion!"

[tame-the-lion-writes]

[legate!joshua graham x reader] what god hath joined together

This is reposted from my ao3!

[Joshua Graham] tags: religious imagery and symbolism, religious discussion, religion in a positive and respectful light

_

“Have you ever thought about it? That we aren’t married.”

“Slavery is marriage by Legion. And you are mine. Is that not enough?”

You shake your head as you sit upon his bed of furs – warm yet wrapped in the scent of gunpowder and smoke. The scent of him after many a battle – for which he was once praised – yet now finds disheartening. For though the title of Malpais Legate held prestige and power amongst the ranks of Caesar’s army, Caesar’s army was made of slaves, and the legate, too, was no exception.

And so, while your husband – no, master – makes his way toward you from across the room, you imagine the chains upon his skin. Wrought iron clinging to his wrists and ankles – perhaps a muzzle. For they exist, albeit as air – as the raw and undefeated power of Caesar. A man who picked and plundered the history of an old world, and forged an empire in the image of an idol.

“That is marriage under the law of a broken man,” you tell him, inching closer to the edge of the bed that you may take his face in your hands. “That is not marriage under God. There is a difference .”

He hisses in dismissal as he withdraws from your touch, but you can tell your inquiry lingers by the look in his eyes.

“As legatus, I do not know your god. Only the law of Caesar–”

You huff – a sharp exhale through your nose – and follow after him to reach for the bedside table. In it is a false bottom – a wooden panel to harbor a Bible that Joshua had long harbored in secrecy before you came. In the weeks before your arrival, he’d stolen seconds out of the night to skim through the yellowed pages. Back then, he didn’t know why – it was a past he’d decided best forgotten, and buried alongside the bodies he’d left rotting in their graves. But just as the Son of Man, the Word rose to roll the rock away, and burning light began to seep through every battle scar ever inflicted. Those wounds he cast upon others, and to himself. 

He could deny God all he wanted, but timing was never a coincidence. Not in the grand scheme of Creation.

Case in point: you were a translator years ago. Worked with the Followers of the Apocalypse before being absorbed into the New Canaanite fold. What was once simply outreach work — teaching — became learning, and though you’d grown in religion before, now it wove its way through every vein. So when the tribe you’d lived with for months soon became your fellow captives under the scarlet red flags of the Legion, you didn’t blame God. You blamed men. 

Blessed is free will, and cursed is what man does with it.

“‘Ye thought evil against me’,” you muttered to yourself then, “‘But God meant it unto good.’” And what can one do in their most desperate hour – when there is no way to act, and only plead – but believe?

In hindsight, you knew that it was God who sent you Joshua – for amidst the crying and soothing lies, he’d heard your prayer. Reminded him of a younger man, with hopes and dreams, and promised land. So he took you out of the pen, and purchased you like a sacrifice – from a temple taxed and forbidden, offerings sold like heresy.

It’s not as though the legate was warm, but you never expected him to be. No – at first, he merely spared you from the worst the Legion had to offer. You knew, for you heard the rumors, and the screams and sobbing in the night. The silence that followed, beaten to submission. Women reduced to cattle and children reduced to fodder.

By contrast, your “worst” was a hard, leather cot, and eating on the floor but never off of it. You were soon welcomed at the table, albeit for leftovers, and granted new clothes once the rags became threads. Small mercies, you understood, and took with careful hands. One at a time. A gradual gift of grace – for when you discovered the Bible, he did not execute you – bury you – blind you, as was his right.

He sat with you at the edge of his bed – took the book from your hands – and slipped it back into place as though nothing had ever happened.

In the days that followed, it became clear that God had made room in Joshua’s heart for more than bloodshed. You hummed hymns, and he would listen. You spoke scripture, and he would still. He would hardly confess his true thoughts on the matter, but there were nights when he’d tuck a blanket over your shoulders, and in your muddled state of half-consciousness, you’d hear the steady flip of a page. A murmur under his breath, and by firelight, salt and tears. Bittersweet, yet made you smile: his tent was your abode, and your abode was given to God. There would be no return for Joshua – only forward – to fill canyons of prodigal defiance. For your God was a jealous God, who sought to heal the empty with love.

Unconditional, but not accepting. Never enough, but what did it matter?

Come as you are, and –

– change .

“I want to get married,” you decide, pulling the Bible from its hiding place. “I want to do this right. As right as it can be, anyway–”

“Mea ocella. ”

Joshua stops you with a hand over yours, gentler this time.

“If you wish for a husband under covenant of God, do not seek me. I am a leader of war. Not a household, or in spirit.”

Your lips thin.

“Let me be your equal, as one flesh, under God. If not that mercy, at least tell me why.”

Joshua frowns – the expression aging his features by many a year. “I do not mean to insult you, or to refuse you as my equal. I mean to say that to bind you to me would only be another sin.” He lowers his voice– “‘Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? And what communion hath light with darkness?’”

This time, he cups your face in his hands. Rough and scarred and trembling as if amidst war.

“I wish to save you from the shackles that are mine. For though I cannot save you from the Legion, I can spare you the trouble of me.”

You stare back at him, a challenge in your eye – yet a soothing hush in the way you press your forehead to his.

“The trouble of the Malpais Legate, or of Joshua Graham? To which man do I speak now? ”

It’s subtle, but you see the way his jaw clenches. The next move is his, and you’ve offered yourself up on a plate. Willingly. No Legion auctions, no threat of the whip. Just you, him, and the Word still in your hand.

Slow, you place some space between the two of you. Undo the silk ribbon holding back your hair. Joshua – not the legate – bought it from the market on your birthday. The sweetest gift, small and unnoticed. What would it say of the Legion to have a soft legatus?

But he is soft, and ever softer — here and now — and allows himself to be so – as you take his hand and wrap it in the ribbon. His and yours, without a ring, but this would have to do.

“I,” you begin, glancing down at your entwined hands, then up to his blue eyes, “take thee, Joshua Graham, as my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. To love and to cherish…”

You trail off to give him room. Seconds, perhaps minutes in your nervousness, to undo the ribbon if he wished, and all ties that came with it.

Yet Joshua finishes for you:

“Till death do us part. According to God's holy ordinance. And thereto I pledge thee my faith ."

It is him that squeezes your hand – him that pulls you forward – and him that first presses a chaste kiss to your lips. His and yours, his and yours. You meld into one, allowing him to take you by the waist, and lower you back onto the bed.

“'And they twain shall be one flesh: so then they are no more twain, but one flesh,'” he whispers. Recitations. Remembrance. “'What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.'”

List of Biblical references and quotes (off the bat that I can remember): - Genesis 50:20 - Matthew 21 (Jesus flipping tables at the temple) - Luke 15 (prodigal son) - Exodus 34:14 - 2 Corinthians 6:14 - Mark 10:9 Also -- "mea ocella" means "my eyes/my sight" but is otherwise a term of endearment in Latin :)

[stormcloudrising]

Rhaenyra Targaryen, Is she a Monster Hiding in Plain Sight?

So, I just posted a thread on the ex bird App breaking down why I think Rhaenyra is quite possibly a monster hiding in plain sight, and how it’s been on the screen since season one. The set-up is all there and people are just sleeping on it like they did with Dany, and when Rhaenyra truly does and in-your-face dark deed that can’t be ignored, they will say, “ but there was no set-up.”

I’m just going to post the paragraphs of the thread here and so apologies for any typos as I’m not interested in going back to correct…LOL. And of course, because of Tumblr rules, I must label it anti-Targaryen to protect sensibilities, when it’s not. It’s just an analysis of what’s on the screen. In case you’re interested, here is what I posted.

Great scene between Rhaenyra and Daemon on Sunday’s episode of #HOTD. Well acted by Emma & Matt, and extremely well written, which convinced me that the episode was mis-titled. Instead of Rhaenyra the Cruel, it should have been Rhaenyra, the Monster Hiding in Plain Sight.

Yes. You read that correctly. Rhaenyra will turn out to be the monster hiding in plain sight & the proof has been in the dialogue & on screen since season 1. Before she does something truly dark, and people start saying it came out of left field, let me show you the video tape.

But let me set it up for you. What do I mean she’s a monster hiding in plain sight? Well, during her argument with Daemon, for the second time, she told him that she believes he’s capable of monstrous acts, including the killing of a baby.

She says this when this is exactly the reason she married Daemon. She married him to protect her path to the throne and for him to commit the monstrous acts when necessary on her behalf—like murdering her husband, the “father” of her children, and the brother of Daemon’s wife.

…is off mourning the loss of his sister & not there in the moment to put up the front, & this is the last straw for Rhaenyra. For her, Laenor is now useless, but hey, Daemon is back & he’s known for committing dark deeds & so how difficult can it be to get him to kill her hubby.

She monstrously asks Daemon to do this on the day he returns home to bury his wife—right after Laena’s funeral no less. She wants him to kill Laenor, who has been there for her all these years, & who gave her children a happy childhood, as we see from Jace’s memories of him.

Laenor is off mourning the loss of his sister & not there when she needs him to put up a front, & this is the last straw for Rhaenyra. He is now useless, but hey, Daemon is back & he’s known for committing dark deeds & so how difficult can it be to get him to kill her hubby.

And before you say Rhaenyra would never have killed Laenor, let me show you the evidence on screen…starting with this conversation where she says for the first time that she believes Daemon is capable of monstrous acts. Right before she works her magic and seduces him.

Let’s now look at the on screen evidence in order to support my thesis. First time she tells him that she believes he can commit monstrous and depraved acts…starts at 1:35. Listen to the dialogue. youtu.be/Cs1CJTPMPn8?si

She soon proves Daemon’s earlier point that each person is capable of depravity when she asks him to marry her. He says, the only way it can happen is if Laenor is dead, and she responds, “I KNOW,” indicating that she had already considered the idea and was ok with it.

Watch this next clip and how Matt plays the scene holding his hand to his chest. Daemon recognizes her request as a depraved act proving his earlier point, but she doesn’t even see it. youtu.be/4gTGi3VE4pU?si

That clip really should be labeled, “Rhaenyra ask Daemon to kill Laenor” rather than to marry her. Let’s now look at the final clip that covers the actual events surrounding the “murder” of Laenor.

Pay particular attention to Daemon and Rhaenyra’s voice overs. First let me say that only tyrants or soon to be tyrants say I’m not or won’t be a tyrant. If you’re not a tyrant or don’t have those tendencies, there is no need for that declarative statement.

They don’t show the actual scene of Daemon and Rhaenyra planning Laenor’s death, but they give us the voice overs. And while we don’t get the full conversation, we do get enough of it that in juxtaposition with the scenes of Laenor, allows us to fill in the obvious blanks.

Note Rhaenyra saying “I do love Laenor,” and the intonation in her voice as if she’s being convinced of something. We know as shown in the previous clip that she was quite fine with killing Laenor. In fact, it was her plan.

And so, that can’t be what Daemon is trying to convince her of when he says, “then grant him this kindness. Set him free.” The scenes on the screen of Laenor and Qarl fighting would seem to suggest that Daemon was referring to the freedom of death.

However, Rhaenyra’s words about love and the ending scene of Laenor and Qarl escaping shows it wasn’t death that Daemon was talking about. He was trying to convince Rhaenyra to let Laenor go free. Here is the clip. youtu.be/UevRWZAxBiA?si

If Rhaenyra’s plan was always to let Laenor escape to Essos, there would be no reason for Daemon to ask her to grant him the kindness of freedom. The lightness inside of Daemon was ascendant on the day Rhaenyra asked him to kill Laenor.

Of course, the darkness quickly rebalanced the scale as he turned around and killed an innocent man to play the role of Laenor’s dead body. Why did Daemon grant Laenor the kindness of his life and freedom. With Daemon, you never know.

Maybe it was because Laenor was his wife’s twin and his daughters’ uncle. Maybe he didn’t want Rhaenyra to be the depraved monster he mentioned in his words to her. All signs point to Rhaenyra being a tyrant.

While she’s currently hiding it,  Tyrants always show their true colors, and it will happen here too. And people will say, but it came out of left field. There were no clues that Rhaenyra had this darkness in her, when it’s always been there on the screen from the beginning.

So yeah, Rhaenyra is not the good guy thinking about the good of the realm. Unlike Jaime who betrayed his vows to protect the realm, Rhaenyra betrayed Laenor for the simple quest of power. She wants the throne & Alicent sits in Kings Landing with her sons keeping her from it.

Daemon does not hide who he is. Rhaenyra on the other hand knowingly does, and that’s the worse type of person you would want to rule. 

Her comment to Daemon that she believes he can commit monstrous acts was the show saying…”hey remember when she said that the first time and what she was planning”. Remember things are not always as it seems, and so, don’t be surprised.

[delulustateofmind]

Between Worlds Part III

A/n: Wasn't planning on writing more, but your support changed my mind! The series now has a title. Thanks to all who liked and reblogged the first two fics. You're amazing! Hope you all enjoy the third part :)) I did change the POV to make it flow nicer, had a coworker edit the fic for me too, let me know any thoughts!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.

Trigger Warnings: Maybe slightly scary Azriel but none that I can think of besides slight angst.

Word Count: 1.6k

It was supposed to be a simple one-night stand with a handsome stranger, a way to steer clear of the story’s main characters. But, after a few too many drinks—Sake Bombs to be exact—I woke up in the bed of the Night Court’s spymaster, one of Prythian’s most dangerous men. One word stood out to me, echoing in my mind. The shock was clear on my face.

“‘Mate’?” you stammered. A mate bond between us? That was impossible. You weren’t even supposed to be in this world. Was the tightening in your chest from the bond or just your own anxiety?

Azriel chuckled, looking down at you. You could tell that he saw through your pathetic attempt at hiding your feelings. I mean, you could feel the invisible thread pulling you together. You could feel every emotion he was expressing through the bond. Azriel was the spymaster; he was trained to read every emotion and find any information he could get.

“You felt it, didn’t you? The love and affection that I am sending you.” His voice was laced with amusement as he watched you squirm a bit. “You’re not getting out of it that easily you know. Mate bonds are sacred after all.” His expression turned serious as he said this, looking down at you.

“This is going to sound selfish,” he said softly, not meeting your gaze as he looked around the room. “Please, give it a chance. I have been waiting so long to find my mate and here you are.” A soft, breathy laugh escaped his lips. “Who knew I’d meet my mate drunk at a pleasure hall? Never in my five hundred years would I have expected that. The Mother must work in mysterious ways.” He finally met your gaze, his gaze held warmth but seemed to be evaluating your every move.

That’s right, he is around five hundred years old and just had a mate bond snap…which means that he probably wants to have a ceremony as soon as possible. I could feel the anxiety creeping up. I know he can sense and feel every emotion. What would he do, if he found out that I am not even from this world? That I am not his true mate?

You somehow manage to blurt out without stammering, “I…want to form a bargain with you.”

“A bargain?” His expression darkened with curiosity.

You shifted nervously in the bed, a knot had built in your chest, and you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. You needed him to say yes, you needed time to figure out your situation, even if you had to throw a bargain that he would more than likely say no to. A bargain that would make him feel rejected.

His gaze held yours for a moment, the only movement being his eyes as they scanned your every expression. “What would you like to bargain with me about, y/n?”

“First, I want to make sure the ceremony date isn’t for another six months, preferably longer. Second, you cannot use your shadows to spy on me. They cannot access my room or any of my items. Lastly, I need three months before I meet your family or before you can meet mine.” You could feel the anxiety brewing in your stomach. His expression showed a tiny amount of sadness and curiosity. You felt as if he knew you were hiding something but was choosing to ignore it, for now. “Is there anything you would like to add?”

Azriel stared at you incredulously. You had wanted the ceremony to be delayed, and not only did you not want him to access your personal life, but you wanted three months to go by before he saw your family, or you saw his. A few minutes of silence passed as Azriel pondered his next response. His face was expressionless, showing none of his thoughts.

“Three months? Why three months?” The soft amusement was back in his voice as he shifted forward, placing his scarred fingers under your chin so you’d meet his gaze. A gaze that could only belong to someone who was feared among every court in Prythian. A dangerous gaze that spoke volumes. The room was silent, as you couldn’t say another word. Instead, he spoke in a low, soft tone that seemed to taunt a reaction out of you.

“You know I could find any information that I could ever want, right?” Words that were laced with truth, a subtle warning in his tone. 

You felt like your heart was going to burst from the anxiety inside of you, a part of you hoping it would so you could avoid this conversation. “I know you could find any information about me that you could want, I just…I don’t want to move too fast. I mean we just met, you know?”

He chuckled softly as he dragged his scarred thumb across your cheek. In a whisper that seemed laced with something dark. "We did just meet, but I do know one thing about you already." Azriel gave you a warm smile and stared at you as he whispered the words "You're scared and I know you’re hiding something, sweetness."

You took in a deep breath, trying to clear your thoughts. This male was going to be the death of you.

You stammered your sentence for a moment. “I’m not scared, it’s just…I can’t exactly tell you right now. I need to figure out some things first. But, that’s not important right now, do you accept the bargain?”

Azriel frowned as he looked at your face, somehow trying to find information through your expression. After another moment, he finally said, "Fine, you have your bargain. But only if you promise me one thing."

He accepted? That was different than what you were expecting. “What’s your condition?”

Before you knew it, you truly saw the spymaster of the Night Court in action as he moved closer to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, pulling his hand away from your face, and moved them to either side of you. Leaning down close enough to whisper in your ear. "You'll tell me whatever truth you're keeping from me after three months, no games, no bullshit. But only after the three months have passed." He seemed to wait until you could gather your senses to respond. His gaze was harsh but still held some warmth.

“We have a deal,” the words stumbled out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We have a deal,” Azriel repeated with his voice sending a shiver down your spine with its coldness. He hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as if wrestling an inner turmoil. Then without warning, a bargain marking materialized on both of your wrists, taking the form of a small star.

Another long period of silence. Nothing in the room moved but his shadows that moved between you like silk. Some of the shadows felt like kisses on your wrist as they slithered over the bargain.

“I suppose I should take you home,” he whispered, his voice coming out rough. As if he wanted to say something more. You gave him a slow nod, and he moved away, climbing off the bed to hand you a simple dress. “I had my shadows bring something, you…ruined yours last night. I’ll save you the embarrassment,” he teased lightly before stepping out of the room to allow you some privacy.

Oh…what did you do in front of this beautiful creature? You are never drinking again if it's what you think it is.

You slipped on the dress; it fit nicely. How he knew your size or his shadows knew was beyond you. You chose to ignore those thoughts as you tied your hair, looking in the mirror. One thing you knew for sure, you needed a bath.

After you stepped out of the room, your eyes fell upon Azriel, already clad in his Illyrian leathers, the blue cobalt siphons shimmering in the morning light that filtered through the window. He looked every bit the formidable warrior, yet there was a softness in his eyes as he reached out his scarred hand to yours. 

In an instant, we were no longer in the confines of the townhouse, but standing at the gates of your parents’ estate. Azriel’s expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. 

“Y/n, there is one more thing before we go back in there,” he said, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken words. 

As he glanced towards the estate, a sense of unease settled over me, knowing what was coming next. "Your secret, whatever it is, will always be safe with me,” Azriel said, his gaze unwaveringly sincere as he met your eyes.  “Whenever you are ready to tell me.”

You met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension, emotions swirling within you like a storm. "It's not that bad of a secret," you began, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "Don't worry, in three months you can introduce me to your family. In six months we can set a date for a ceremony."

Azriel leaned forward, his smile gentle as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His expression was a blend of disappointment and sadness flickering in his eyes. It seemed as though he had something more to say, or perhaps do. After a moment of tense silence, he nodded as if coming to a decision. "See you in three months, my mate," he said softly, before turning away and disappearing with a graceful winnow. Not even leaving a trace of shadows behind. All that was left was his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar. 

Tag list: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle

[cator99]

please finish your wedding story, i so badly want to hear the rest of it. i await eagerly.

>everyone lived happily ever after

>a few weeks pass

>I write the brides a lengthy and detailed letter of recommendation to their immigration lawyer

>they're overjoyed and think its a beautiful letter, and I'm glad to help because I hope they last forever and get everything they want in life, if I may drop the act and be sincere for a moment

>a few days pass. the bride I've known for over 15 years messages me

>however... she doesn't care. she's on her honeymoon. and I'm just some chick she was friends with as a kid. what does upset her is how she found out.

>at first I assume that the woman who reached out to her (who I knew back in jr high, and is a few years older than me) was just trying to upset her

>bride tells me about how this woman was her best friend and then suddenly blocked her out of nowhere, which was (and is) still very painful for her

>the woman, who we will refer to as "A" whips up a story about being concerned for the bride's safety and privacy or something

>bride is confused. there's no identifying information. the post is a nothingburger to her. what's important here is that she's upset that this woman messaged her after 4 years, not to make things right..... but to talk about "zander"

>right, this is about me, because this is "A" we're talking about here...... hell hath no fury like a closet case scorned

how did she find my blog?

I assume it went like this:

>"A" goes to peek at her ex-bestie's wedding photos

>"Zander" Spotted

>runs to LC

>"hey does anyone remember Zander who I used to post about on here all the time 7 years ago? I may have found an update!"

>"that's terf cator99 who was posted about on the Women Youre Ashamed To Want To Fuck thread you fucking idiot that looks nothing like her"

>no here's proof!

>autism ensues

>several replies get deleted, other responses indicate they're "A" sperging and linking my blog

>people argue if I deserve to be there anymore

>"she's a tif"

>"no"

> yes"

>"no"

>"I used to know her" ["A" posting]

>"tell us more!"

>"she used to have this one pair of glasses and then she had this other pair of glasses that looked really good on her..."

meanwhile:

>assume she's probably back on her LC shit

>find and link bride to the LC thread and explain to her that "A" has just been trolling for fun and to pay it no mind, you're better off without her in your life

>"hey bride-chan, not to be weird but I'm just trying to understand this shit, do you think A ever had a thing for me... I always kind of assumed she was bi or gay when we were younger and thought it was cool that she was androgynous and went to school dressed as Kaito from vocaloid all the time so I wanted to be her friend but she was pretty rude to people and I backed off"

>"well i dont know but she's married to a man now..."

>yet here she is trying to get under the skin of two women who are with other women

to be fair I earned the lolcow title fair and square years ago all on my own, and really do feel I owe "A" a favor for introducing me to the site. it was very formative for me to find out places like that existed right at the moment I was starting to have conflicting thoughts about the trans shit so I could gain some self-awareness (and general awareness overall) (shout out to "A"s friend who cowtipped to me.....)

meanwhile, on LC:

>"well done ladies, we've figured it all out. Butch Lesbian cator99 is currently partying with gay men, and It is common knowledge that "gay men" are all secretly bisexuals who are looking to hook up with women who say things like "I'm a lesbian" and "I am not attracted to males". That is their mating call, in fact. These words activate the Hetero gland in the Amygdala like a sleeper agent who has been biologically programmed– as we all are– to stop the kiki-ing and split off into heterosexual pairings at the end of a poppers-fuelled night assless-twerking to Britney."

>"good work. But I'll one-up you: look at this screenshot."

[photo from an instagram account, featuring a photo of 17 year old Zander's legs in the bath. "I Am Totally Into Epic Awesome Penis Now!!!!!!" (She had never seen a penis)]

>"yes, this is definitely a normal thing for a straight woman to say. I always knew she was a faker."

>"yes. as im sure you're all aware, there are many social and career benefits from pretending to be a lesbian."

>"doesn't that idiot know that she can't just lie and change her orientation? I can't believe she's been straight this whole time."

>"what does she have to gain from lying?"

>"She's so adamant about being a lesbian, which is a dead giveaway for a cover-up operation. The more they resist, the more evident it is that they are lying in order to gain access to that highly lauded Online Lesbian Following, which is something every straight woman wants deep down."

meanwhile:

>call gf

>"bad news. I just found out I'm actually straight."

[narumi-gens]

Never Felt a Feeling Like This

Narumi Gen x f!Reader

summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)

notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.

words: 6.3k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 

All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 

The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 

With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 

Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 

“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 

But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.

“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”

Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.

“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 

He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 

Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?

But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.

You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 

It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 

Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.

You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 

“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”

But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 

“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 

You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 

Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.

The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 

Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 

There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 

The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”

With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.

You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 

But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 

You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 

When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 

“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”

“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 

“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 

However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 

His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 

The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 

Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 

The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.

His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 

Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 

With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.

He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.

And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 

His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.

What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 

Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 

It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.

He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.

It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 

He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 

“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 

Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.

You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 

The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 

His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 

He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 

And he also notices that it twitched upward. 

For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.

However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 

His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 

Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 

Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.

All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.

What would you look like in just your lab coat?

His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 

And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 

The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 

You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 

Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 

When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 

“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.

His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.

“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 

You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.

“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 

“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.

“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”

Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 

“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”

He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 

You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.

There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 

A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.

Simple as that.

Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.

Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.

“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 

As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.

He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 

But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.

He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.

The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.

“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 

“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.

“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 

Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  

“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 

But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 

“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 

Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 

“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 

Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 

“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!

Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.

He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.

He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.

He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 

As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 

With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 

But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.

His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.

From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏

He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis

He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 

From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪

He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱

Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.

From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 

From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏

From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️

From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫

His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝

It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏

He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 

The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 

Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 

Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 

His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 

He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 

When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 

Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 

What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.

And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 

Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?

He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 

He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  

After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 

He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.

He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 

He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 

And you would, wouldn’t you?

Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 

You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 

And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 

Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 

His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 

As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 

His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 

He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 

However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 

His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 

When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.

After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.

“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓒𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒕. TAMSY CAINES ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 1.9k ノ gn reader — title is quite literally the plot. tamsy has weird feelings towards you. likewise. reader described by him as awkward. a very subtle case of mutual pining. ropes and bruises are involved, but it’s completely sfw. just a casual day with other characters mentioned. spoiler-free — there are some hints tho. before relationship. maybe a pinch of clueless flirting, but only if you squint lol

There are many unexpected mornings at the Cleaners’ HQ. A fact that no one dares to undermine, a reality that greets them all with every new day.

If not a sudden attack of the trash beasts, then maybe Delmon hitting his toe against the bed and screaming at the top of his lungs, or Enjin coming back from the city after a frivolous night and stumbling into every obstacle because he’s certain that another love of his life just decided to end their relationship (how long has it been this time? Barely a month?), or Follo and Gris hitting the clogged pipes with every tool they have in the bag because someone messed up the hydraulics and there’s already a queue of people wanting to use the bathroom.

Yes, there are many unexpected mornings at the Cleaners’ HQ. Tamsy is well aware of the antics and misunderstandings happening between the members, but at least he’s glad that usually no one bothers anyone until they leave their rooms — pitiful is what awaits after one decides to venture out on the corridor and is not ready for the challenge.

But it’s his day off work, so he can enjoy the solitude of the four walls in peace.

Except this time he hears an impatient banging at his door, directly. Nothing of great strength, so that at least confirms it’s no one with the extreme personality (like Delmon) who otherwise would soil his lovely start of the day.

Well, it’s you.

“Good mornin—”

“Hi Tamsy!” You interrupt his slow greeting, followed by a questioning raise of his eyebrows. But you’re quick, too quick, and continue immediately, almost putting your hands straight into his face. “Please, please, you gotta help me!”

“Calm down, first. What happened?”

“See?!”

He sees, clearly. One of your arms, from wrist to shoulder, is wrapped up in a total mess — a good quality rope or a net of some kind, whatever — and your skin already lost a fraction of its colour. Looks painful, that’s for sure. And, unfortunately, complicated. There’s barely anything he can deduct in just a few seconds from seeing you in front of his room to having to hold your elbow so you stop wriggling your shoulder, so he may examine the situation further.

“Why didn’t you just cut it off?”

“Because I can’t! I just can’t! Semiu said it’s something expensive that the boss had bought a few years ago, but the kids started playing with it while cleaning the main hall and then they bumped into me, and then— well, nevermind! Can you please get it off me before I lose my arm and Semiu comes for my throat next?”

There goes his peaceful morning.

He takes a deep breath, ignoring that first wave of annoyance after being disrupted so early when it’s his day off, and lets go of you so he can retrieve some tools from the drawer. Probably a needle or a pin, anything of that sort, will have a use in that case.

“Come in. Untangling you shouldn’t be hard, but it might take a while…”

“Aren’t you well-oriented with the ropes and stuff like that? Isn’t your vital instrument a distaff?”

“Heh, I guess I am well-oriented with the ropes and stuff.”

You watch him curiously, sniffling and fidgeting all over the place with your nails scrambling the coarse threads in hopes that maybe you will get out of them by yourself.

After a moment, Tamsy drags you across the room, nudging you to sit on the bed.

“Yeah, this will take a while.” He mumbles out, eyes already focused on the task. “But you won’t lose your arm.” He chuckles at that. Mayhaps a subtle joke will take your attention away from the bubbling anxiety.

“What about my neck?”

“Working on it. At worst, we’ll both lose our heads.”

You hum under your nose, entertained and not so stressed anymore, and lean to look at his hands. Working carefully on the rope, unwrapping one by one, all this while trying not to poke the pointy end of the pin through your skin. To be honest, it looks more like you’re a bird caught in a net left on the wind for at least a year, but if he considers how chaotic Guita and other teenagers can be, let alone running around together, then maybe it’s not that impossible to cause such a disaster in the first place.

The moment you feel Tamsy’s fingers pull out of the loops and brush against your skin where the short sleeve doesn’t reach, you lower your head as if it’s suddenly forbidden. You get the feeling, again. The one you dislike because it makes you act like that, like you cannot just enjoy being casually acquainted with him.

This is not love. No. Love doesn’t exist for people like you. Not on the Ground, not at all. But the idea of it lingering at the edge of your consciousness doesn’t leave you alone and brings shivers down your spine every time he so much as glances at you.

This is the worst.

“I’ve never noticed that you’re missing a part of your little finger. It’s not causing you any problems?” You pick up the most random topic, your stupid brain just letting anything get on your tongue.

Tamsy doesn’t even flinch when you mention it.

“I forget about it all the time.” He admits in a heartbeat.

“Oh. Well, good that it’s nothing serious then. Sorry…”

“It’s okay.” He sighs.

Really, it’s hard to be angry at you, especially that this isn’t your fault you got into whatever happened in the main hall, but he doesn’t want you sitting on his bed, in his room, acting so awkward. It would be annoying if it was only him treated this way — could suggest you’re developing certain feelings for him, regardless if positive of negative — but you’ve always been weird when interacting with others, unable to get the clue even after working with them many times and even befriending some of them.

Sure, you’re all over the place, but you’re not the only one among the Cleaners. However, Tamsy considers you a complication and a distraction. Only you. It’s entirely on him that he’s starting to like you, against his own rules. But then again, do you even notice that, or are you just enjoying the quiet company? He wants to make sure he isn’t wrong, because he could use an ally, yet… You don’t seem to think of him that way. It’s too risky to even consider sharing the truth with you.

“Ouch!” There’s a sudden rush of pain down your shoulder that gets you to squeak and jolt in place. Distressed once again, you look at your limb and then at Tamsy, and back at your limb.

“Don’t worry. The circulation is back, but you’ll feel sore and ticklish.” The lukewarm fingertips trail up to your elbow, just to make sure everything’s back to normal, and he stares at your expression for a moment with an absent gaze. “I’m almost done, so try not to move too much for one more minute, okay?”

You nod, a bobblehead toy, hot in the face, unable to hold the eye contact anymore. Instead, you fixate on his palms (yes, again, how obvious), on how delicately he holds your wrist while he takes care of the last tangles. It’s just too funny, the sensation of a pulse returning to your arm; you giggle and shiver, but try your best to remain calm despite the numb tingling rushing down your nerves.

Along with the last loosened loop, Tamsy pinches at your skin on purpose until you laugh and shy away from his grip. That one time you look back at him, you get the feeling again, the same he was wondering about earlier. What a fool you are.

“And everything’s alright again.” He announces, that pretty face of his softening, like he’s comforting you after some traumatic experience and not just a small predicament. Although you were, in fact, seriously scared for a moment there. Well, if it came to that, you would just cut off the ropes in the last resort, much to Semiu’s displeasure.

“You sure?” Still doubtful, you examine your limb, worried about the splotches of bruises and angrily deep imprints waved into the soft flesh.

“Just be careful. It looks… hmm, that’s expected given how tight this net was digging in.” He cannot say what’s actually on his mind. The wince doesn’t escape you, and Tamsy immediately regrets that he let his voice falter. The next second, he covers his mouth and scratches his jawline instead, trying to keep the smile off his face, but failing miserably at it.

“I don’t get it. Why are you smiling?” You pout at him, attempting to sound offended by his reaction. “It hurts and looks awful.”

“I’m sorry. I really hope the pain goes away soon. It’s such an absurd way of starting the day. It’s funny.”

No, Tamsy isn’t cruel, it’s just… he really finds it amusing. He will never say it out loud that his face got warmer after having the chance to look at your arm, unable to not imagine that this is exactly how you would end up if caught in the threads of his vital instrument.

Give him a break, damn.

With defeat, he has to admit in his thoughts that it looks pretty on you. He likes the image of it. Not the fact that it’s painful for you — or precisely because of that, but he wishes not to ponder on that possibility — but it was probably inevitable in this case.

Maybe he’s becoming a sadist? No, no, not at all. If anything, he would prefer you unharmed and untouched. No, what is he even thinking about now? He should know better than this.

“Try not to get caught in more nets.” He gets up from the place beside you and puts the pin away. “I will help you take it back to Semiu and the boss. But I wouldn’t recommend using your hand until the marks disappear.”

“Thanks…”

“Are you sure you can work, though? Maybe it would be better if you take the day off as well?”

“No, I’ll be okay. There are things to be done, so I’ll just focus on something easy until that numbness goes away.”

Tamsy isn’t pleased with that answer, but shrugs that off. Instead, he walks back to you to grab the neatly untangled net (it’s quite heavy, which wasn’t so noticeable when it was still wrapped around your entire arm) and guide you back to the exit.

There’s a limit to how much time you can spend alone with him in his room, and this one comes to an end. A pity.

“You’re a lifesaver.” You let out a tired sigh, the stress that weighed you down finally dissipating.

“No problem. I’m glad I could help you out.”

It would be such a waste to give up that opportunity, he thinks to himself, almost caving in to pull you close enough for a brief hug; he eventually gives up on that idea, biting his tongue and only putting a palm flat against your back. A friendly gesture to gently push you forward, like he often does with other members, whilst he’s busy locking his door behind you two and following your steps.

You’ve been nothing but trouble, occupying his mind when he should have a clarity; that memory of ropes digging into your skin engraved just as deeply in his brain.

[foliosriot]

YOU’D BE BETTER OFF ON YOUR OWN ♱ PART ONE

nicholas ruffilo x reader

WARNINGS!!

talk of cheating (being cheated on). brief mentions of physical abuse and verbal abuse. overall just being in an abusive and toxic relationship. based on Dakota by Between You & Me.

AUTHOR’S NOTE!!

and please for the love of god i hope you know the bf referred to is NOT dakota sammons aka kooter of i see stars i seriously did not make the connection until it was too late and it’s literally just the title of the song okok anyways enjoy

masterlist. ybbooyo masterlist.

It happened.

You can not believe you let it happen in the first place. After so many incidents and so many apologies you thought you would be able to finally let it go once and for all.

But you know you’re just a punching bag, incapable of fighting back.

Long story short you caught Dakota cheating. Again. You think it may have been the same girl, but you aren’t completely certain. Before you were able to question your boyfriend about those highly inappropriate text messages when you saw them flash on his phone’s home screen, he was already shouting at you. He said such awful, nasty things that had tears gathering in your eyes. He had simply scoffed at the sight of you crying, then left your apartment.

You can only imagine where he stormed off to.

And you, not wanting to be alone with your thoughts for the rest of the night, called the one person who would drop whatever they were doing to come to your aid: your best friend since childhood, Nick.

Nick hadn’t hesitated to rush over to your place after you called him crying. If you remember correctly, you had only gotten a few words out before he was saying he’d be right over.

“N-Nicky. I-I need—“

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m on my way.”

He was walking through the front door not even five minutes later.

As soon as he entered your bedroom Nick was hurrying over to you where you were huddled into a ball on your bed. You had the covers pulled up over you, so you couldn’t see him, you only felt the mattress dip. Through the layers of blankets covering you, there was a light weight settling on your body. You instantly knew it was Nick’s hand.

After a few minutes of crying under your blankets and silently relishing in the faint feeling of Nick’s hand resting on you, you finally unraveled yourself from the ball you had contorted into. You push back the covers to see Nick looking at you worriedly. But the sight of him is a massive relief.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You sniffle. “Hi,” you say back in a broken voice.

You finally sit up and, tugging the blankets tightly around your body, shift to sit right beside Nick, who has his back pressed against the wall. Your head settles on his shoulder and you release one of your shaking hands to grab at his. He threads your fingers together wordlessly, his warm skin comforting.

Neither one of you speak. Nick knows you just need a shoulder to cry on at the moment, and you will be eternally thankful for him. He is always there for you whenever Dakota fucks with you and your relationship.

Nick is one of — if not the — best things that have ever happened to you. He has been one of the only constants in your life for as long as you can remember, and vice versa. The two of you have been inseparable for years. And then adding the rest of Bad Omens into the mix made your overall relationship strengthen and grow.

But no one was prepared for the hellish whirlwind that was Dakota, especially you. Dakota was sweet and charming and always made you laugh. During your high school years, on the days Nick wasn’t able to come and pick you up after school got out, Dakota was right there to give you a ride home (or to Nick’s house). He felt like a safety net you could fall back on whenever you needed it.

And after weeks and weeks of spending time with Dakota and really getting to know him, you had happily said yes when he asked you out.

It was no secret that Dakota didn’t like Nick or your friendship with him. He had been extremely vocal about his distaste regarding it more times than you can count, just in the first month of dating. Nick didn’t like Dakota either, but he was never actively aggressive or downright rude about it. He would rather you be happy than put either relationship of yours at risk, even when he knew Dakota has never deserved you.

Your relationship with Dakota deteriorated as the years went by. He became more and more hostile towards you and your friends, and you were subjected to his ill temper and red hot anger. You were hiding evidence of physical abuse nearly every week. Crying yourself to sleep almost every night. You hated how Dakota was making you feel, but you were scared of what would happen if you ever broke up with him. So you stayed with him, because you never wanted to find out what he was really capable of.

Nick was more than aware of what Dakota was doing to you. You never verbally told him; all he had to do was connect the dots between your constant fights with your boyfriend, how often you called him because you needed someone to talk to, and how you reacted to certain gestures he made.

Nick has always been observant. There was no need to even say anything about Dakota because he already knew. You know he would never tell you “I told you so”.

However, that hasn’t stopped him from warning you time and time again, hoping to steer your brain and heart away from Dakota and his toxicity. It nearly worked when you first caught Dakota cheating on you.

And you will forever beat yourself up over how suave and pitiful Dakota had been when he was apologizing. Saying how “she never meant anything to me”, “it was a stupid mistake”, “I love you”. You will never forgive yourself for accepting his half-assed apology and taking him back.

Taking him back time and time again.

As you remain huddled against Nick, those wretched memories keep spiraling through your head. You can feel the telltale burn of tears stinging at your eyes as you continue sitting in silence.

You squeeze your eyes shut until a fuzzy spattering of stars takes up your vision. Then you’re sitting up quicker than you had anticipated, thus becoming dizzy and attempting to blink away the sudden nausea.

Nick is watching you. You can feel his gaze boring into the side of your head as you manage to clear your eyes. With a hesitant look to the left, you see Nick is, indeed, watching you. His eyebrows are knit together with worry, his forehead creased with the strain.

“Sorry,” you mumble, reaching up to swipe at your nose. “I know I’m probably overreacting.”

“You’re not overreacting at all,” Nick tells you. A new wave of tears is now inching down your face at the softness of Nick’s voice. “You shouldn’t have to put up with this.”

You don’t bother to reply. You cry quietly, trying to feel any ounce of comfort in Nick’s presence. But it isn’t working anymore, because all you can think about is Dakota. How shitty Dakota is and how badly you want to leave him. But you can’t leave Dakota, you can’t! You know he loves you, you know he cherishes the time you’ve been together and all of the things you’ve experienced as a couple. He’s good. Dakota is good to you. You’ve just lost sight of that a bit.

“Your boyfriend fucking sucks, by the way.”

Nick’s sudden comment throws you off. You blink away a few tears as you look over at him, your mouth hanging open a fraction.

"What?" you ask dumbly.

“Dakota? Your boyfriend? He fucking sucks.”

“I-I don’t get it.”

Nick rolls his eyes, scooting closer to you from his position on the bed. He turns his gaze towards you, and his pale irises go from glowing with a spark of hate to something much lighter. His knees are right up against yours as he sticks his arm out in a silent way of asking you to take his hand. You hesitate, but then you're sliding your fingers between his until your palms are flush.

“I’ve lost count for just how many times he’s made you cry,” Nick says, his voice soft. “Your partner shouldn’t be the reason you cry, honeybee.”

Your breath hitches at the nickname. Nick hasn’t called you that in a quite a long time; a part of you thinks it’s because of Dakota. You’re shaking like a leaf as you continue listening to your best friend.

“I know I’ve said this before, but Dakota is fucking awful to you.” You nearly cringe at the pity that is heavily evident in his words. “He doesn’t deserve you. He never has. And I think it may finally be time to leave him. Be done with his yelling and anger and all the lies and cheating. He’s hurting you so fucking bad.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I can’t,” you whisper. “I can’t leave him, Nick.”

“Why not?” he asks. His thumb is lightly stroking your skin, a calming gesture in this moment of frustration.

“I—“ A weak sob escapes your throat. You force yourself to look back at Nick, and it pains you to see the sympathy mixed with fury swirling in his eyes. “I just can’t.”

“Yes, you can. If you’re afraid of how he’ll react or whatever, I am more than willing to be in the room. Or I can be a room away, or the guys and I can be in the vicinity if that would make you feel safer.”

Nick pauses. He scoots closer until there is only a few inches of space separating you.

“I can’t stand how Dakota treats you, honeybee,” Nick tells you in a near whisper. “He’s an asshole who doesn’t get to treat you like shit. You’re better off on your own.”

His words run a spike through your chest. But you know he’s right: you don’t deserve to be treated like shit by your own boyfriend. As much as you believe there’s still some semblance of good somewhere inside of Dakota, you know you shouldn’t have to sit around and wait for it. You deserve better.

You sniffle a couple times then wipe at your nose with your free hand. You meet Nick’s eyes, and you no longer see that tainted hatred; instead, you see a glimmering abundance of love and adoration reflected back at you.

And as you continue to just stare at Nick, your eyes darting all over his facial features — from the stubble that is growing along his jaw, to the few long strands of hair that are dangling in front of his face, even to his barely visible earlobes that are vacant of plugs — your heart seizes for a moment. You think you just be imagining the rosy tint to his cheeks or the apparent nervousness of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. But there is something in the way he’s looking at you. Something that drives that stake deeper and deeper into your soul.

You’re not sure what compels you to say it, but you hear yourself mumble an “Okay.”

At first you aren’t completely certain as to why you’re even saying it. But you need Nick to know what you’re thinking.

“I can’t stay with Dakota.” Your voice breaks at your boyfriend’s name. You swallow thickly. “I don’t want to stay with him anymore, Nicky.”

Nick gingerly cradles your face with his free hand. His touch is cool and soothing on your warm skin, and you can’t help but lean into it. You feel his breath on your chin when he speaks.

“Okay. Do you think you could do it by yourself?” he asks cautiously.

You shake your head. “No. Need you with me,” you say. “Please don’t let him hurt me.”

“I won’t. I’ll never let him hurt you again, honeybee.” Nick presses your foreheads together. “As long as I’m around no one will hurt you ever again, I promise.”

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

♱ foliosriot 2023

[scuderiafemboy]

f1 lestappen database nini edition

notes: number 1) this can get outdated super easily… number 2) i also dont know how to link content as i dont use tumblr alot but upon request im remaking my twitter thread here number 3) im not putting the races in chronological order as im quite lazy

at the 2019 japanese gp, max and charles hit eachother into turn two.

max after the race on the crash:

“i just dont get it. there was no need to risk so much in turn two. cause at the end of the day, both of us had to pit.”

2019 austrian gp, 3 laps left into the race max overtook charles and won the grandprix.

charles at the postrace pressconference:

“as i said, ive done exactly the same thing from the first and the second lap so i didnt expect any contact on the second lap. as max said, i think he braked a little bit deeper. i dont know if he lost it or not but then there was the contact. i felt like i was quite strong in traction. on the first attempt i managed to have better traction and have my position. on the second one i couldnt do that cause i was off track.”

2019 silverstone gp, the race right after austria. max and charles closely battled for 10 laps straight

charles during the postrace press conference:

“the best move was probably the one on max, on the outside in copse, i think he just passed me and i passed him back around the outside of copse. i think that was definitely was one of the most exciting (moves) of the race… of my race!”

2020 sakhir gp, charles crashed into checo, forcing max to go wide and then also crash

max post race:

“i respect charles alot, hes a great driver but i think today was a bit too much. he asked me “what happened?” and i say “what do you mean “what happened” you crashed into sergio and i have to go around”. i think he will look back at the footage and i hope he will understand that that was maybe a bit too aggressive. which is a shame.”

charles on the beyond the grid podcast 2021, talking about his rivalry with max:

“its the same (their rivalry) at the moment its obviously a little bit deminished because i can not fight against him, unfortunately. but if you look at the fight in silverstone 2019, i think you can understand theres quite a bit of competition and its always been the case. i mean its nice; we have grown up together in karting weve been always fighting eachother and now we find ourselves again in formula 1. so its great and i cant wait to put the team back were it deserves to be and fight against max for the title.”

monaco gp 2021, during Q3 charles crashes which means max cant set a laptime

max postrace interview:

“he just clipped the wall initially and ended up where ive ended up twice [laughs] so its just unfortunate. ofcourse i am disappointed not to have a shot at pole but thats life, you know. sometimes you cant do it. i mean its fine, i dont think his lap should be deleted in the future if they want to make rule changes. i dont that would be fair.”

charles instagram post after the 2021 silverstone gp yes i am counting it too:

max saying he prefers his rivalry with charles over the one he has with lewis, 2022

max to sky italy:

"i prefer what we have now because, first of all, charles i know very well, hes a nice guy, we are a similar age… on saturday night, we even had a laugh in paul ricard... we are hard competitors on the track and we will always try to beat each other, which i think is very normal, but outside of it you can have a good time as well, and thats what i really enjoy about this year."

max debunking that charles never forgave him for austria 2019 and racing together with him, 2022

max in a video interview:

"i never speak about these things with other drivers, i mean, it happens. ive lost wins as well, and its not the end of the world, you move on. i think charles is one of the most talented drivers in formula 1, and he will win many more races… i would say back in the day it was a little bit more difficult, but also we were very young and growing up and you are fighting for the same goal, right? now that youre in formula 1, i think it is really different. you are representing really big brands. so we get on very well now. we can have a good chat and enjoy our battles, and i think thats very nice. knowing each other for such a long time helps. weve spent so much time together, in a way."

2022 hungarian gp, max told the hungarian press he understands charles his frustration after the 2022 french gp

max to the hungarian press:

“everyone handles that (their disappointment) in a different way. some people need to reflect on it like that. at the time youre still a bit emotional from what just happened and maybe become a bit too emotional, but thats fine, people should be emotional, they should show their emotions."

charles on fighting with italian site corriere della sera, 2022 this is not an official translation sorry but i can link the source

charles:

“i like to deal with max, we have a similar level of aggression. we have fun, with respect. im not saying that last year there was no respect between max and lewis, but it seemed like a different duel than ours. but if we were to get to the end of the championship very close in points, the situation would be much more tense than it is now.”

max, also for corriere della sera in 2022

max:

“i have known charles since we were five years old, we are of the same generation and we grew up challenging ourselves on the track.”

max to viaplay, 2023 after charles crashed during Q3 of the miami gp, meaning he couldnt set a time and had to start from P8 (this is a livetranslation of mine post qualifying, so the quote isnt 100% spot on but you get the gist)

max:

“the red flag was annoying, but it happens on streetcircuits. it just sucks, i will have to cope and move on.”

monaco gp, charles had an interview with canal+ for its 10 year anniversary with formula 1. he got asked to name 10 drivers hes the closest with

charles:

“pierre without a doubt, carlos, lando, george, alex albon, yuki, lewis, max aswell eventhough most people dont think its the case but it is! esteban, and lance.”

this is it for now, i am a bit tired but thank the tumblr lords you can change posts later on so i can update it with ease later on. enjoys besties 🫡

[nso-csi]

240822 MCountdown Mini Fan Meeting — Taemin translation thread.

MC: If a fatal charm is born as a person, it will be this person. A word to your TAEMates. T. Hello everyone, this is Taemin who is back after a long while with my 5th mini album. Nice to meet you.

MC. Applause! Congratulations on your solo 10th year debut anniversary. T. I have been busy carrying out activities and before I knew it, it’s my 10th year since debuting solo. Looking back at it, it’s because of the love given by so many people that I was able to continuously promote. I will non-stop develop myself and be the Taemin that can present everyone with good music. thank you.

MC. Do introduce Sexy In The Air T. It’s song with various genre and it’s a song fitting for the summer. The summer is hot so I will be thankful if you can listen to it and spend this summer refreshingly.

MC. (Talks about the MCD’s concept today, Vampire) With that vibe, we would like to see a part of sunbaemin’s Sexy In The Air. T. If I were to say a little about it, the beat for Sexy in the Air is one where you can dance well if you dance to the beat. You can just do it like that and I think that would be good.

MC. That’s so cool. Shall we be Taemin sunbaenim’s wings and dance with him on both of his sides T. Oh that would be a great honour to me.

(After dancing to SITA)

T. How did you guys prepare this? You guys danced well. Thank you.

MC asked Taemin to review them with the stickers T. While I was doing it, I was able to feel how cool he danced on the side, and I could hear his breathing too and it sounded cool. And on this side, he did it sexily with the gaze and all… Hot guy. thank you.

MC. (Asking Taemin the questions MCD collected)

MC’s Qns. Congratulations on reaching your 10th year anniversary. In 10 words, what’s the aspiration you have for the future or what are your thought on the promotion this time. T. Oh in 10 words. Hmm…. I will be the Taeminnie that is always up for challenges. That’s my aspiration.

MC’s Qns. Second question. Matching the song title ‘Sexy In The Air,’ if there’s a time that you thought ‘Oh I am kinda sexy huh’ recently, when is it? T. (Checks the openings of his top) I think there was a time that I felt myself sexy. If you are asking when is it… I am actually working hard in preparing my concert rehearsal and when I saw myself when I was doing my rehearsals I would think ‘Wow… this is no joke though? I am kinda sexy though?’ If you guys are going to come watch my concert, you guys would probably able to see it too. Please do come and watch it a lot.

MC. I want to go too.. T. Thank you.

MC’s Qns. Third question. You will probably be everything from sexy, charismatic and chic on MCD today. So looking forward to it. In that case, can you be a super cutie after a long while and show us your aegyo? Please T. Ah… aegyo… Uh huh uh huh… well if you were to request for it, I can’t refuse right. (Does a peace sign, rabbit look) So do I just need to do this? I learned that there’s a front teeth flirting. Yes… thank you.

MC. Thank you. That’s all the questions we prepared today. We have TAEMates here with words for Taemin today. Are the TAEMates ready? 1, 2, 3!

TAEMates. Lee Taemin! x3

MC. Taemin’s sunbaemin’s stage will be revealed in a bit so do look forward to it. We will look at SF9 and Hyori’s stage first. SF9’s… T & MC. Don’t worry be happy!

cr. iheartshinee_

[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ relax mode. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 840.

"gun-woo, can i take the car to watch minji tonight?"

gun-woo's attention is immediately turned entirely to the woman in front of him, giving him those puppy eyes that make his knees go weak. and the worst part? she knows her power over the broad man.

"c'mon, baby, do you really need it?", the grimace on his face is not on purpose - he tells himself that, he is just very expressive with the muscles on his face, and it's not really his fault. "i can always drive you, you know. it's not even that far."

"woo-jin asked me if i could watch her for a few hours tonight, you can always come too!".

listen, gun-woo is a strong man. his height and robustness can prove to anyone who questions him. but the moment certain dark eyes land on his sight in the most adorable and endearing way, his limits are tested and his semblance is questioned assiduously.

"for God's sake, he is 30-years-old, he can look after his own daughter and wife". the complaint was not even out of his mouth and gun-woo's eyes were already round and conscience-stricken. "aigoo, am i a bad person for thinking like this?" automatically, his neck strains in y/n's direction in question, but the girl was too busy admiring her boyfriend from afar.

"he'd do the same for us, don't you think?" she says approaching his tense back seated in the chair and starting to massage his shoulders.

this might be a trap!, gun-woo's brain alerts when he feels his girlfriend's hands starting to do wonders on his stiff muscles. but he does not listen, on the contrary, his mouth opens in relax mode and his last thread of dignity is the only thing keeping him from moaning out loud in the middle of the kitchen.

"we could watch movies on his couch while playing with minji, you always said you loved his couch!".

"are you seducing me with his couch? babe, this is not going to work". his hoarse voice did wonders on your ears and, for less than a second, you felt bad for playing with his buttons the way you were doing. "i thought we were staying in today?". gun-woo questions truly and your heart pounds.

a pout involuntarily made its way to your lips and, for the very first time that morning, gun-woo sees your pretty face from up close, bringing a little smile to play around his face.

"ya, don't do this". the man straightens his back and immediately returns to his morning café as if you weren't even there.

"do what?", the offense in your tone was hopefully prominent while you contoured the table and sat very proximately on his side, starry eyes facing his drawn ones.

"you know what".

"no i don't". yes, you did.

"th-the pouting thing". his tone was too light for a professional-proclaimed boxer, in your opinion.

"what?".

"the pout thingie". he says almost defeated. "you know what it does to me". now was gun-woo's turn to have a cute pout on his plump lips. you almost wanted to choke him. respectfully, of course.

"c'mon baby, it's just one night". that was the perfect timing to put your hands around his biceps and stick your head under his arm, making him leave his breakfast for later and stare at you right under his chin, now hugging his torso with the cutest pout he has ever seen.

"aish-". he tsks irritably, leaning back so you could sneak your way onto his lap with the brightest smile on your lips, finally straddling him as you wish.

"so what do you say?". of course you had to wiggle your brows to infuriate him even more with your cuteness. kim gun-woo was truly a weak man for you.

"i want a divorce". gun-woo doesn't think twice before saying it, refusing to reciprocate your warm embrace because he still had some man-ego work to do or whatever. "you and woo-jin are completely traitors. he knows friday nights are y/n and gun-woo's nights and y/n and gun-woo's nights only".

the only response gun-woo received from his lovely girlfriend was light giggles and more squeezes, making him hate himself for dating the tiniest human in the world and letting her fit in places normal humans shouldn't fit.

"don't blame the old man for wanting to have some alone time with his wife, they need to have their moments as well". you defend. "think about when it's our turn, bubs, we're going to need a lot of threats in our hands in return".

"ya, you're evil". gun-woo's reaction was priceless. "i was thinking you were super into minji's cartoons".

"i am!". you exclaim. "i'm just being a good friend to my boyfriend's best man! i am pure and innocent!".

the only thing gun-woo could do was laugh at your antics, giving a squeeze on your sides and pressing a kiss to your brows, exclaiming how bad you were until you had no defenses left.

"i'm going to prepare the car, we need a week ahead of supplements for staying tonight". he says excitedly. "lots of snacks to minji and us".

tell me why does woo do whan had to make his comeback after the military in the hottest role ever? #unfair anyways, this is a silly drabble, sorry for the poor background i just needed to write about this man asap.

[zahri-melitor]

Some more coherent thoughts about Gotham War, now it's settled on me.

(Spoilers below cut, for length and as it's still only Wednesday)

It's not a huge surprise, but Selina's whole 'train henches to steal from the rich non-violently!' ended up being a complete side issue that only existed to get the plot moving. Nobody's conception of this plot, in two years time, will really include this detail, despite the thousands of words spent arguing how ridiculous it was.

Yes it remains a poorly thought out plan on Selina's part (she's never heard of earning money legally) but the narrative also frames it as long term ineffective from the very first issue and knocks it down on multiple occasions.

DC editorial definitely tried to dress this up as a full family event, but realistically it was a Bruce, Selina and Jason event, written by their three current writers, with solid bit parts played by Tim and Dick.

Vandal Savage remains ridiculous and ready to sacrifice anyone and I appreciate that about him. As a villain he was just the right level of stakes for this event.

I enjoyed getting to see Scandal, even if her fans would say she got done dirty here. Scandal usually has enough sense not to believe anything Vandal says, and I admit I was somewhat waiting for some level of twist here as to why Scandal was all for immortality at this point in time, but it never came.

I still agree it felt a lot like three separate plotlines intersecting, but I think they managed to land the event successfully (while leaving some nice loose threads). I actually appreciate they didn't overreach in their goals.

It still finished out with two separate plotlines: Bruce and Selina and Jason; and Dick and Tim and the rest of the family. Structurally this again reminded me as much of Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul as Batman #138 did; the main plot and then the far more interesting Dick & Tim sideplot which is what I go back to reread. (Chip Zdarsky is clearly also a fan)

Also promisingly for an event yes, it did actually shake up the status quo and push the participants off in new directions.

So Bruce is now doing the Loner Batman thing (in that he's locked out of the fam computers/comm lines), Selina is officially 'dead' (what is with all these fake dead people with titles, Penguin is too right now), and Jason has what's effectively permanent fear toxin response to stressful situations. Also, apparently, we are getting Dick and Barbara back 'running' the Batfam while Bruce is on the outs.

As far as Bruce goes, what has been really notable in this event is how much Chip Zdarsky loves early 2000s Bat comics and their dynamics, and particularly Joker's Last Laugh. There's a lot of structural things about how this event was shaped, what specific characters did, and emotional beats that feel very JLL as someone who's read it at least half a dozen times. It's not the only influence, but it's a pretty prominent one.

Bruce ending the event in a position where he's effectively not working with most of the other Bats actually tracks reasonably well over to Batman & Robin, to my surprise. It makes sense that it's just Bruce and Damian and they're focusing on homelife and domestic relationship details between the two. It gives Bruce an excuse for why he's closely focused on Damian there.

I will admit I have not been reading Catwoman, but from the event it seems they're spinning her off to keep moving her back into a more antihero position. Tini Howard clearly has a direction she wants to take Selina.

I actually think this has pretty interesting storytelling potential for Jason. It means that he has to stay calm, or has to overcome his own fear to achieve things. It gives him a goal? Matthew Rosenberg clearly seems interested in using it for his Jason storytelling and he's got Jason right now, so...

I'm personally delighted by how much Tim Zdarsky wrote into this storyline. He used the space more to show off Dick and Tim's brotherhood and what Tim is good at, rather than push the Tim side of the Zur story we're all expecting to occur (there's that waiting Zur-Robin costume). Means he's planning it for Batman as a title itself rather than getting it tangled up here.

"It was the only way to become the second-best Robin". Yes, this is Tim getting to show off his core competencies - he probably is the only Bat other than Bruce who would have extensively studied all the trophies. Dick would remember a lot of them simply because a lot of the trophies are from old adventures, but pretty much all the others are not particularly retrospective, respect the past sort of members of the group, while Tim has always been surrounded by the shadows of the past. I loved this note.

I haven't talked about Babs yet! She's in green, in glasses, sitting down at her computers with a novelty mug, directing everyone, answering to Oracle. That's her! That's my Oracle!

I do think Bruce expecting Dick to take over running the Batfam right now is a big ask, given he's also running the Titans as the main superhero team on the planet and handling Bludhaven, but Tom Taylor's writing both those books so I don't expect to see the stress catching up with Dick there. Benefits of writer choice right now, I guess. Also personally 'Babs and Dick organise everyone while Bruce has a breakdown elsewhere' is one of my favourite Batfam dynamics so you know, I'm pretty excited if we actually get to see this play out.

New Lazarus Pit in Gotham! This won't be a problem at all.

[hippolotamus]

Fic title: baby, you've got to be crazy 🫶

Hiiiiii, Husband 💞 some more lovey idiots for you. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about how they wound up here 😘

“I-” Buck scoffs, throwing his hands up, then brings one to rub at his chin while the other rests on his hip. He forces himself to look at Eddie who is worrying with a loose thread on his shirt sleeve. “Eds, you can’t- you don’t mean that.”

Buck's accusation is born out of self-preservation more than anything. Because, of all the things - spoken and unspoken - that have passed between them through the years, he has never wanted his best friend to mean anything more than the words he just uttered.

Eddie folds his arms across his chest, widening his stance. Nothing drastic, just the smallest amount. Enough to convey he’s serious and not backing down.

"Why not, Buck? Huh? Why can't I mean that?"

Buck starts to protest, to release a litany of reasons, but no sound comes out. His jaw snaps shut when Eddie seemingly drops his defenses, closing the gap between them in two large strides.

Eddie rests one hand on each of Buck's shoulders, letting his thumb settle in the divot of Buck's collarbone. One of the many pieces of Buck that was never good enough for anyone else, but seems to have been custom made for Eddie Diaz.

Eddie's fingertips skim over Buck's hoodie - the burnt orange one Eddie always says looks good on him - down his biceps, around his elbows, over his forearms until their hands are joining. Brown eyes, the color of soil and earth, meet Buck's. They're searching and pleading, looking for an answer Buck desperately wants to give.

"Buck." Eddie's gaze flicks to his mouth for just a second, making him feel like he's burning. And he would, he wants to, but not yet. Not until he's sure what Eddie's asking of him. "Evan."

Eddie rests their foreheads together, bringing them even closer. "Haven't we done this long enough? Haven't we sacrificed and said 'no, not yet' too many times? I don't-" He forcefully exhales between them, a frustrated sigh that tapers off to quiet, wounded thing. "I've missed so many chances. Told myself that it wasn't our time yet and I could wait a little longer. Until the next one. But, I can't. I can't do it anymore. Can't lose you."

Tears gather at the corner of Buck's eyes and he has to swallow back the tremor that wants to accompany every word.

"Okay," he manages. "Say it again."

Eddie’s tongue darts out, swiping across his lips that instantly curve into a small smile. The one Buck pretends is just for him. “Marry me. Be my husband. Plea-”

Buck cuts him off. “Yes, I’ll be your husband,” he whispers, then huffs out a small laugh. "Maybe kiss me first?"

And Eddie does. He brings their lips together, slow and cautious but so, so certain. Like he's never been more sure of anything, like kissing Buck is the easiest decision of his life.

It strikes Buck that this is the last first kiss he'll ever have. That they'll ever have. How it's a precious gift they've been permitted to share with each other.

With every passing year, he became more and more convinced they were two parallel lines, meant to travel together but never touch. Yet here they are, crossing and twisting and intertwining. Beginning to weave the next chapter of their story.

Eddie threads his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Buck's neck, sighing into their kiss, and Buck knows he has never meant anything more.

send me a made up fic title

[arkhamabyssfiles]

UPLOADING FILE... UNKNOWN_MEMORY... ...CHANGING FILE NAME... OUTSOURCE_PENNYWORTH... ALFRED PENNYWORTH: AGE, 57 JASON TODD: AGE, 17

Alfred finished securing the last button of the shirt back into place and slowly put the needle, thread, and scissors back into their rightful place in the Dutch Butter Cookies tin box. He looked up into the small pendulum clock high on the wall; it marked six minutes before five. Master Jason wouldn’t take long to make his appearance for tea time, a tradition that had formed quite quickly and naturally after a few weeks of the young man started living in the Manor. His interest in literature was akin to his own, thus easy companionship had been formed. Alfred smiled, everyone who’d lived in this Mansion while he was here would eventually come back here, into the now empty service wing, where he’d managed to build a small, yet tranquil place. Even though Master Bruce rarely came here, only after a rough night. Master Dick was even rarer now that he didn’t live anymore, and Miss Helena was spending many hours in university -and hospitals already- or chasing a boy around the house—

Alfred set the electric kettle at 76°, then reached for the metal tin box of white tea, a favourite of Master Jason this month. Just in time as the kettle reached its desired temperature, there was a knock on the door of his room’s parlour. He bided the young man to come in.

“Hey, Alfred,” The young man greeted as he closed the door behind him.

“Master Jason. This time you made it in time.” It wasn’t odd for him to get detained, either by something in the Cave or certain someone when she was around the Manor.

“Yeah… the Prin—Helena fell asleep in the library. You might want to check on her in a while.”

Alfred hummed shortly while taking out the tea from the kettle and moved the tray to the table between the chairs, where a plate filled with sugar cookies and Russian teacakes was already awaiting. And made sure to erase the small smile on his lips. The pursuit of the Wayne heir of the boy currently sitting in his parlour had become a matter of amused and knowing exchanged glances from him and Bruce. A small bet had been inexplicitly laid down at what would come first; Jason realizing Helena’s feelings, or Helena growing impatient and revealing it directly. Alfred, of course, knew that it’d be the latter, Master Jason was very clever at many things, but the understanding of women seemed to be still far off from his mind.

Master Bruce could enjoy his last days with The Evening Angel replica in his study.

“How’s your reading coming along?” Alfred asked while he poured tea in both teacups.

“Slow,” Jason grumbled and he sunk into the cushion of the chair.

“It tends to happen when life gets busier. You just have one year remaining of school– and do you still plan on holding off your admission to University?”

“Yes. I’m still not sure what I want—or could do. And there’s more time for me to do night-time work.”

“Ah, yes. Indeed. But I’d rather advise you to take that time to slow down and rest.”

“I will. Promise.”

“Let’s hope you will uphold your word, young man.”

Jason took a chocolate sugar cookie and nibbled at it, “I always do.”

“I’m afraid spending too much time around Master Bruce might pass on some of his bad habits.”

“Like forgetting what he said he’d do?” Jason huffed.

“Exactly so.”

“Was he always like that?”

“No. Not always. It rescinded when he married Miss Selina—” She’d always insisted on being called either Miss or just Selina, having an aversion to the Madam or Mistress title— “But after she passed away…I’m afraid his ‘memory’ chose to get worse.”

Jason humped and watched thoughtfully at the ivy surrounding the outside of the window. “I added four books more to my list to read.”

“Four? That’s quite an achievement in five days.”

“It just sort of happened…”

END OF MEMORY... OUTSURCE FOUND...ERROR...WRONG LOCATION... For more FILES check previous entries...

[greenhorn-art]

to catch a sunbeam with white moonlight

Author: orphan_account [this work has been orphaned and is no longer associated with it's author]

Fandom: 全职高手 | The King's Avatar

Rating: General Audiences

Category: F/M, Gen, M/M

Words: 55,720

At a Glory convention, Dai Yanqi meets Ye Xiu who is helping Su Mucheng buy her favorite doujinshi. They surprisingly hit it off as they browse through all the doujinshi about their peers and talk about Glory.

About the book

FONTS: EB Garamond (body text, title), Roboto (body text - electronic), Bebas Neue (title, headings), Alfie (title), Segoe UI Symbol (scene breaks - 'gear without hub')

IMAGES: Sunflower (Rawpixel, ID: 2687359), lightning (Rawpixel, ID:10200699)

MATERIALS: Domtar Earthchoice (textblock - 20lb, cream, 11x17 cut down to 8.5x11), Recollections paper pad (endpapers - Dark Watercolor Florals), Iris bookcloth (covers - Eggplant), Verona bookcloth (covers - Hot Toffee), Ribbon (covers - 1/4", shell grey), embroidery floss (endbands - 209 Very Dark Lavender), leather cording (endbands - 1.4mm), Ceramcoat acrylic paint (painted edges - metallic silver), Anita's acrylic paint (painted edges - 11038 Purple), Reeves acrylic paint (painted edges - Violet & Crimson & Blue Lake, Payne's Gray), waxed linen thread (sewing textblock - 30/3, white), Books by Hand (glue - pH neutral PVA)

PROGRAMS USED: Affinity Publisher (typesetting), Affinity Designer and Affinity Photo, LibreOffice Writer (QR codes), Bookbinder-JS (PDF imposer)

BINDING STYLE: Split-board binding, French double-core endbands

(Belated) Binderary Book 2024

My first year participating in Binderary and I'm 2/2 with my goals, albeit slightly late (even with the added leap day).

Goal No. 1: Bind a book!

This fic is an orphaned work, with no author available for me to reach out to. Convenient, since it was a last-minute decision.

Goal No. 2: Finish typesetting the fic that got me into this whole bookbinding/fanbinding hobby!

Bad Boys JEDI Style is a 217 chapter, 908k word "comedy of errors: in which our heroes are recruited to film a reality holo-drama". Much to my despair, the fic I loved had been deleted from every site it was uploaded to, and I was left kicking myself for not having downloaded a copy from AO3.

Shout out to Kam and Lofe, whose wonderful Binderary demos were put to use in the making of this book! Kam's French Double-Core endbands demo was super helpful, sizing up the 'textblock' and components made it easy to actually see what's happening with the sewing. Loffe's demo introduced me to the split-board binding technique and, sleep-deprived hiccup notwithstanding, I think I might find it easier then bradel style binding! Need to bind more books to know for sure (such a hardship 😔).

In other new-s, I took my dad's recent workshop baby for a spin. The bookbinding plough works like a dream! I tried a hidden fore-edge painting for the first time (just a solid colour), but the purple is lost under the Payne's Gray basecoat I applied to the silver painted edges. Adding ribbon to the cover was also new (mostly due to the fact that I never remember until the endpapers are already pasted down).

On the Design

Cover

This is a Team Thunderclap!Ye Xiu AU, so the cover was based on Team Thunderclap's uniforms from the donghua (from the one screencap of the team I found, see below): purple across the shoulders and forearms of their jackets with a yellow stripe down the centre. I added silver ribbon as a nod to the white of the jackets as well as the grey gear of the team's logo. Also in reference to the title: yellow=sunlight, silver=moonlight.

Title Page

The title page stumped me for a while. While brainstorming title page design ideas, I thought about what the title means. In English it's poetic but nonsensical, so I wondered if maybe it held some meaning in Chinese?

As it turns out, it does. Kind of. Maybe. (If I stretch and reach for it, it makes sense). According to a quick search of one webpage for each query, "'White Moonlight' usually refers to a person or thing that is elusive in the heart, has always been loved, but cannot be touched" or "an 'unforgettable first love'." The sunbeam itself might be Ye Xiu, the figurative ray of light, the hero, the gaming idol. Or 'catching a sunbeam' could refer to how "sunflowers turn their heads to catch every sunbeam."

The potential meaning I have cobbled together is how Dai Yanqi turns Ye Xiu's head and captures his heart by sharing the (SanXiu-ified) story of Su Muqiu, the aforementioned white moonlight. Is this what the author intended? Who knows. But it does seem plausible enough to inspire me.

I ended up using both the idea of sunflowers and Thunderclap's uniforms (again). Lightning referencing the team's logo, and also the white colour of a flash of lightning which is kind of like moonlight. The logo's background is blue, as is the uniform as seen on the cover of the manhua featuring the captain Xiao Shiqin (see below), so I made the background blue-purple.

Endpapers

The (not-actually-)sunflowers carried over to the endpapers, as well as the grey colour from the gear in Thunderclap's logo.

Endbands

Kept these simple. A solid purple, as close as I could get to the bookcloth. I didn't want to draw attention away from the stripes on the covers or the silver edges.

Probably could've gone for thicker cores.

The text

For the scene breaks I used a special character of a gear. The cog also looks like a sun. Which is fun because it can reference Thunderclap, the title (sunbeam), and my design choice of sunflowers.

I reused the lightning image at 50% opacity as a background to set apart the backmatter.

Misc.

Recently, I've begun to increase my efforts of preseving fanfiction and safeguarding the stories I love from purges and takedowns. (Sparked by the December 2023 scandal about Sony announcing an upcoming removal of content including the movies and TV shows that people have purchased).

This fic has been archived via the Wayback Machine at https://web.archive.org/web/20240215155152/https://archiveofourown.org/works/37414021?view_full_work=true.

Also, curses be upon Rawpixel. Since the time that I had downloaded the images, they have now be placed behind the premium user paywall (along with a number of other graphics and elements that used to be free).