#because down to even changing the energy source

[solxamber]

First, I would like to say I love your writing! Especially your Trash Villain Chronicles. Thanks to your first one I've been on a Vil kick. I double-checked the rules before typing so hopeful I'm following them. Okay, here goes:

Vil with a partner who's a bit on the heavier side and insecure about it, especially compared to her model boyfriend. Vil finds out about it and quickly reassures her that she is perfect the way she is, and if she's still insecure, he'll help her with whatever she wants to do. Whether it's losing weight or changing her style, anything to make her feel good about herself. Just Vil helping his love feel as beautiful as he thinks she is

I personally see this with a female reader (Hence why I used she/her) but if you do decide you wanna take a crack at this and use a GN reader, then by all means. If you don't wanna do this request, then feel free to ignore it. Just wanted to try. I hope you have a nice day!

Just the Way You Are || Vil Schoenheit

Vil shows you that you’re perfect as you are, helping you embrace your beauty inside and out.

first of all: thank you so much <3. and thank you for waiting! i made it gn to be more inclusive, and i hope this is what you wanted!

Vil has always found a certain allure in the way you carry yourself—something genuine and warm that shines in a way he rarely sees. But over time, he's noticed the small, telling moments of hesitation.

The way you shy away from reflective surfaces, your reluctance to stand too close to him in photos, the subtle way you pull at your clothes.

He understands insecurity well, but it pains him to see that you’re judging yourself so harshly, especially when he thinks you're so beautiful just as you are.

One day, while sharing lunch, he notices you pushing food around your plate rather than eating. He sets his fork down and gives you a look, his eyes gentle yet discerning. "Darling, are you really going to keep that on the edge of your plate?"

You give a half-hearted smile. "I…just don't want to overdo it," you say, hoping that sounds convincing.

Vil nods thoughtfully, already understanding. He reaches out, covering your hand with his. "If you're feeling uncomfortable about what you eat, would you let me help? Not because I think you need to change, but because I want you to feel at home in your own skin."

You agree, albeit a bit hesitantly, and he instantly takes charge in the way that only Vil can. Crowley’s meager budget often mean you have to settle for low-cost, processed foods, and Vil isn’t about to let that slide.

Over the next week, he starts bringing meals prepared just for you, full of fresh ingredients he’s carefully chosen and even sourced himself.

One afternoon, he surprises you with a gorgeous spread for lunch. It’s a rainbow of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins, arranged as beautifully as any of his fashion editorials.

"Proper food is like proper skincare," he explains as he plates your meal with a flourish. "Only the best for you."

You find yourself looking forward to meals more than you ever thought you would. He teaches you little tricks, too—how to pick satisfying ingredients on a budget, small ways to prepare them to bring out their natural flavors.

Every meal feels like an act of love, a reminder that someone thinks you're worth the care you didn’t always give yourself.

After a couple of weeks, you feel the difference—not just in your energy but in your confidence. Vil notices this too, smiling proudly every time you finish your meals, delighted with the way you’re nourishing yourself.

He never pushes; he’s simply there to support you every step of the way, showing you that your health and happiness matter to him more than anything.

One evening, Vil finds you sighing at your reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of your outfit. You’re wearing a simple outfit, but you can't help but feel that it doesn't quite fit the way you’d like, especially next to someone as effortlessly poised as Vil.

Sensing your discomfort, Vil walks up beside you and slips an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re beautiful as you are,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But if you don’t feel it, then let's change that. Why don’t we make a day of it and find you some outfits that help you feel as beautiful as you look to me?”

The next day, Vil takes you shopping, his eye for detail guiding every choice. He’s quick to dismiss outfits that don’t fit right, brushing off any hints of self-consciousness by focusing on each piece’s color, fabric, and shape as though they’re variables in an equation only he understands.

“Fit is everything,” he tells you, holding up a jacket. “It’s about finding clothes that celebrate who you are, not cover it up.”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and as you try on different outfits, you start to see yourself in a new light. Vil’s commentary—sometimes playful, sometimes serious—always steers you toward the right choices, outfits that make you feel vibrant and confident.

At one point, he finds a tailored coat with intricate details on the sleeves, something understated yet regal. “This,” he declares, draping it over your shoulders.

You glance at yourself, surprised at how the cut flatters you, and for the first time, you feel like your outside finally matches the confidence you’re building on the inside.

By the time you leave the store, you’re carrying a few new pieces that you actually feel excited to wear, and Vil’s heart swells every time he sees you trying them out.

His pride in you is palpable, his compliments genuine and warm. "It’s all about loving who you are,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it’s a privilege to see you start doing just that.”

One night, as the two of you sit together on the dorm balcony, Vil looks at you with such intensity that it catches you off guard. "I hope you’re beginning to see how wonderful you are," he says softly, his hand holding yours. "Not because of anything you’ve done to change, but because you’re worth it. You always were."

You smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you as you squeeze his hand back. And as you lean against him, content, you finally start to believe that, maybe, Vil is right.

Masterlist

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐕. My energy levels waned quicker than I thought, so that will be it for today's activity— I seriously hope to adjust soon enough so I can do more without dying to get into bed and hibernate until it's time to wake up and go to class again. But! While I said I wouldn't indulge much the thought of something I read in Princess Mina of the Fallen Nation, I did start to think of it as something actually plausible in regards of Khaenri'ah.

Considering how deeply ingrained was the devotion to the Abyss in the society (at least in higher spheres concerning nobility which I'm sure Dain also touches onto as well as other Black Serpent Knights depending on who they're tasked to guard), I think it's very hard at this point to run with the belief that sussy things happened in the background and no one of those who don't agree with this noticed, which I firmly believe Dain would be included due to the way he lamented so much Khaenri'ah's fall. Even more so when all of a sudden a stranger comes "from the Abyss" and becomes the kingdom's prince(ss).

So, the one thing that I will address is:

"'This will all end as long as we defeat the evil overlords.' That's what we believed then. Naive fools that we were — that was just the beginning of the nightmare." "The thirteen samurai banded together to defeat the Nakura Daimyo who had been destroying this nation." "But Kogami did not revive with the Daimyo gone, and the life-force of the land continued to bleed away." "Not only that — Kogami, now bereft of its ruler, became a paradise for those who would plunder it." "The heroes who had defeated the wicked overlord could not protect it in the end either."

Thinking about Khaenri'ah, this had me wondering: what if part of the society, tired of the dark esotericism that was causing more harm than good and that was a thing since many years ago, wanted to do something to end with this so the people could live peacefully? And that this was enforced by a faction of the military to end. Considering that King Irmin was also neck deep into this, it wouldn't be far-fetched to think that those who wanted to make the nation a better place and not another home where it's unsafe to live or potentially worse than what many people left behind (namely the other seven nations ruled by the Archons) seized the opportunity that this king wasn't at his best point. Which later on would follow with Marshal Anfortas' temporary regency (whether he was the Alberich or not, I have no clue— it could be either him and that he continued to be the regent until Khaenri'ah's destruction or that someone of the Alberich clan stepped in to take the position after him). We do know that the Alberich who took the regent position wanted to mend things and, in my interpretation, it was too late for that.

So back to what I was commenting earlier and which I may adhere to my own particular worldbuilding of Khaenri'ah: part of the army, among which Dain was included, wanted to make out of Khaenri'ah a better place and actually kicked out from positions of power and relevance those who were way too deep into the Abyss dark part (it's known that they were able to invoke rifthounds in Sumeru, I highly doubt they wouldn't in Khaenri'ah even if for experimentation purposes alone that either go wrong or cause too much disruption in the society) and a time of peace follows after that. They believe that everything would go better from that moment onward, when the truth is... that highly likely they only scratched the surface of what Khaenri'ah's darkness supposed, which later on would culminate in the Cataclysm also because of those people in great part.

[grugruel]

Your daddy know 'bout this?

(Don't be fooled, there's no daddy kink!)

Pairings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A few days short of your 21st birthday, you decide to celebrate with your friend at the local bar. Unbeknownst to you, a close friend of your dad's is there.

When he sees you with beer in hand and in the lap of another man, things get heated. Somehow, you end up in his shirt, at his house.

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: pinv sex, passionate sex, forbidden realationship, violence, blood, underaged drinking, slight angst, cum eating, I love yous', mentions of masturation, tension, arguments, slight jealousy and protectiveness, pet names (girl, woman, ma'am, princess, sweetheart)

AN: not yet proofread, might be rough around the edges! Enjoy girlies🥹🫶

It was his one free night in a long time, and his buds pulled him along for a drink. He had no real objections, for he was in a good mood and it'd get even better once he had a drink in him.

The group of men emerged from the damp, rainy night and dove into the smoke tainted air and usual bustle of the local dive. They ordered their drinks and made their way to the back where the booths were, a jumble of familiar faces greeting them on their way. Until-

Bucky saw a face he ought not to see in a place like this. "Excuse me a moment, fellas. I got somethin' to take care of."

Their group turned to him, confused. "Wha-" and looked in the direction he was already headed. "Well shit, good thing her daddy ain't come with us." The group shared a few nervous glances, then shrugged and chuckled. "Wouldn't want to be one of those boys right now."

-

"Well . . . " a voice chuckled loudly.

She could see the source approaching their table from her peripheral, his form vaguely illuminated by soft lamp light through the gloom. " . . . Aint this a sight?"

She knew that voice, she could hear the telltale grin that shaped it.

Catching onto the change in energy, the giggles and boisterous laughter of their small group died down. Tense glances exchanged between them, all eventually landing on the intruder, all except her own.

Commotion continued sounding around them, their table the only to emit an unusually low amount of noise. "Anyone wanna tell me whats goin' on here?" The voice asked.

Swallowing, she realised she'd been intently staring into a cadleflame. She belived that maybe she'd have a chance at going unnoticed if she sat still enough.

"I asked you a question, doll."

She winced. That was his nickname for her. Fuck. She tore her gaze from the candle, snapping it to her friend across the table and gave her a sidelong glance that meant 'trouble' to which her friend nodded in agreement.

The low light that made the place cosy just moments before now only existed to muddle her thoughts. But, it could work in her favour. She carefully pushed her drink behind her elbow, hoping it wasn't too late to hide, and her friend followed her lead.

She turned toward the man, a cheap grin plaster on her face. "Hey . . . Buck," she spoke slowly, as if it'd somehow make him more agreeable.

"Hey there, princess," he grinned. Hat on his head. "Wanna explain this to me?" Pointing lazily to their gathering.

She shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant. Because admitting your wrong would confirm it's wrong. "Nothin special, we were just leavin', in fact."

A scoff blew past her ear. "The hell we are." The lap she sat on stiffened beneath her, tapping his feet–once, twice–in a show of impatience, and rocking her body in the process. The man then whispered in her ear. "Who is this guy anyway?"

She inclined her head, nervous eyes avoiding the big cowboy that stood imposing at the end of their table, and murmured a quiet reply over her shoulder. "No one. . . in particular." A lie, of course. "Let's just go."

The cowboy chuckled. "You're not leavin' with him, you're leavin' with me." That drawl could make the most steeled stumaches jittery with butterflies. Her friend must've felt it too by they way she squirmed in her seat.

She had to screw her eyes shut in a moment of contemplation. Why'd he have to be here tonight? Why'd they have to go to a bar he frequented?

She looked back at her friend with panic in her eyes. Boy, were they in for it. She could think of nothing else then to simply ask nicely, hoping it'd appeal. "Please, just go."

He smirked, putting a hand on his hips and showing a stern but playful disposition. "Your daddy know 'bout this?" He tipped his hat in their direction.

She pinned him with her eyes, narrowing them with independent annoyance. "Im my own woman, B-"

'What's it to you?' The guy beneath cut her off.

Bucky switched his attention to the guy, and she could feel him shrink a little under Bucky's gaze. "Hell, no need for that tone! I was just sittin' with my buds over there." He pointed to the group of men Buck came with, no doubt to put some pressure on the poor guy. From the looks of it, they'd been listening in on our conversation, and now waved to her, idly laughing at the situation, ready to jump in at any moment.

She shyly waved back, a tight smile on her lips.

"See, I just saw your little group havin' a grand ol' time over here and wanted to join you," Bucky laughed. "And when I noticed that fine woman in your lap, I thought I'd have a chat with her." He disguised it well, but she could hear the anger beneath his humoured exterior.

"You two know each other?" The guy asked, I'll at ease.

"Well enough." Bucky took a moment to look her over, a scan for any harm. But his eyes stuck on the short skirt and thin shirt. If possible, he looked even more bothered. "Wouldn't you say, sweetheart?" He glanced at her, and she could see the danger that lurked in his eyes. It began to dawn on her more and more how knee deep in trouble she was.

She cleared her throat, a nervous blush creeping up her cheeks. "Mhm," she hummed. It felt like he could see through her.

The guy's hand slunk to the bare skin of her thigh, attempting to mark his territory when seamingly he'd decided his dislike of the situation. "Huh, what's with the hat anyway, you some kind of sheriff?" He asked. But cut Bucky off as he was about to answer. "Either way," he waved his hand dismissively. "She's fine where she is. She can make her own decisions." And just like that, he'd successfully stolen the point she'd been trying to make.

She shook her head. Stupid, stupid boy.

Bucky's face hardened, any sign of humour gone from him. "I assure you, I dont need a sheriff's badge to take her home, It's within my right." He braced his hand against the table, leaning closer to them.

Her uterus roiled at that. 'take her home'

"Now, get that hand off of her, boy." He snarled, annoyance and authority resounding in his voice, promising a solution to the mans cocky demeanor. "She ain't yours to touch."

"Why?" The guy asked. "She yours?" His hand slid higher, squeezing her thigh, challenging the much broader man.

She exhaled, releasing a frustrated hum in early defeat, he'd doomed them both.

The cowboys jaw tensed. Silently, but undoubtedly steaming, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pushed them above his elbows. The veins on his forearms pop from strain, knuckles turning white from his fists clenching. "Fella. . ." He began, calming his composure, then pointed two loose fingers at the girl in the mans lap. "Had she been mine, you'd be on the floor already. Now, that girl, ain't of drinkin' age, neither is she to be touched by a slimy bastard like yourself."

Fuck, so he did see the drink. She shook her head again, warning him. "Bucky. . ." A very bad attempt at dissuading him from doing whatever he was about to do. She could almosy feel the guy beneath her sink into the booth they were sitting in. Perhaps he had some sense after all.

Her friend grabbed her arm, loosely yanking on it as her anxious eyes flickered between the men in conflict. She herself sitting in the lap of the guy's friend, who was preparing to step in if necessary. "We should go before this gets ugly," her friend whispered.

"Respectfully, ma'am, she ain't going nowhere without me." The cowboy opposed, directing his attention to her friend.

No, no, no no. . . Dread filled her, he'd drive her straight home to her parents.

Bucky's eyes fell back on the guy, now shrunken and small under his gaze. "So. . . Stand up, 'n leave, boy," he spoke with the authority of a sheriff but stood with the confidence of an outlaw. "There's no need for altercations, I was enjoyin' my night. N' I don't wish that to change-"

"I'll call on the bouncer," the guy shot out, his face probably as pale as his overly white and fragile shirt, pointing to a man behind the cowboy. Her eyes followed the steps down from the seating area, and through the dimly lit dive where a big man stood posted by the door. The guy beneath her then glanced at his friend across from them, both extending curt nods to one another.

She wanted to wretch, he was acting a coward and standing up to Bucky with the threat of enlisting two other men to his side. She sighed loudly, making a point for him to hear as she eyed her friend. "Well, I sure know how to pick em'." And her friend, inspite of the commotion they found themselves in, covered her mouth in snicker.

Bucky narrowed his eyes in a second of silent fury, then answered with a laugh, not missing a beat. "You mean that bouncer?" He asked and turned around, calling a greeting to the bouncer, who in turn tipped his hat with a smile. The type of gesture that indicated a longstanding friendship. "We're well aquainted," Bucky grinned. "But im sure he'd love to sort this situation out."

If they had any sense at all, the two men would leave with what little dignity they had left and realise that they were already outnumbered inspite of being 2 to 2.

"Leave, girls," the guy easily dismissed them.

She gave him a pointed look, flashed her eyebrows, and jerked her head to the side in a 'you had it coming' motion, and then grabbed her friend's hand.

"Asshole," she sighed and steered them out of the booth, taking the cider in her other hand. Silly as she was, she thought she could simply leave, perhaps just slip by Bucky. But no, his strong hand grabbed her bicep as she passed by, and set his blues deep into her own. "Wait by the truck, I'll drive ya' home." He said, looking between the two girls.

"Fine . . . " She sighed.

"N' dont even think of running, cause I'll catch ya'," he warned, and she rolled her eyes inspite of the burning that settled in her core.

She tried to yank herself free, but he didn't let go. "What? You wanna hear a 'yes sir'?" She dared the words, teasing, as nervousity built in her gut.

His eyes searched hers, a slow grin spreading over his lips as he leaned closer, bending down to whisper in hear ear. "Dont get cocky with me, girl." And his hand began sliding downward, making her shiver, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

She swallowed, that tone, the hat? God. Her uterus purred, and in a sudden surge on confidence, she answered. "No, sir."

He grabbed the glass bottle from her hand and grinned, taking a sip. "Good, girl. Now go." And pointed to the door.

Would it be wrong to say she started salivating? His words, together with his lips making contact with the same surface she had? There was something about it, something that made her . . . Pulse.

Bucky whistled and his friend–the bouncer–came bounding up the steps, him along with the group of dad's and bucky's friends only a few steps behind.

The bouncer tipped his hat to her and her friend in passing, a smirk on his lips. Nice to know there was still some gentlemen in the world.

She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was quite handsome too.

"Dont even think 'bout it," Bucky warned.

She rolled her eyes, and then they were finally on their way out, meeting Bucky's group of friends on the way, all nodding and greeting her. "Tell your daddy we missed him tonight." One said, and they all chuckled.

The girls hurried off, giggling. But anxiety lingered in the depths of her chest. Those men were rogue witnesses in all of this.

As she held the door open, voices raised behind them. She could see the crowd turning to look in Buckys direction, anf she herself followed their gazes. And found them just in time to see Bucky's knuckles collide with the jaw of the guy she'd spent her night on, sending him sprawling.

-

Plunging into the deep night, the cold swept over them. "He's hot, ain't he?"

She didn't want to answer, or simply didn't want to admit it and just gave her friend a look of understanding.

"God, I was ready to pounce on him the second he called me ma'am."

The girl understood that too.

-

After about ten minutes wait, Bucky emerged from the bar. Unscathed, apart form bloody knuckles and dark cloud around his head. Before even saying a thing, he'd already removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I only got one of them. Apologies, ma'am," he told her friend and opened the truck door for them both. "The truck'll warm you up."

"Thats ok, thank you," her friend answered, and the girls shared a knowing look. Their thoughts connecting in fiendish collectivity.

"Alright, get in. We'd better get goin'."

-

The ride was relatively quiet. We knew better than to anger him further. Anxiety was growing within her, though, she didnt wanna know what would happen when her friend was let off.

"Text me ok? I'll se ya' later." Her friend said, eyeing Bucky. She leaned her head through the open window of the truck. "But- let me know how that goes," she whispered. "And good luck." She raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips.

The girl rolled her yes. "Sure will." And with one last wave, they were off.

-

When there were only the two of them, they could say whatever they wanted with confidence. But so far, there'd only been a few sighs and breaths of shared irritation. Neither of them were particularly pleased with the situation.

But she wanted to be the first to speak. "I'll be 21 in a few days, Buck."

"Doesn't mean you have good judgement."

She bristled. "I'm not a little girl anymore!"

" 'Course not, I can tell by the way you dress. That what a grown woman look like to you?" He nodded to her body, barely covered apart from his thick jacket over her torso.

She pulled it closer around herself. "Like what exactly? What do I look like to you? A slut, a hooker?" Her face stung from embaressment. She felt like a child again, being berated for something she wasn't able to puzzle together by herself.

He clicked his tongue, jerking his head to the side. His patience was running thin. "Dont twist my words, doll. I'm callin you careless."

"That dont matter comin' from you, you're not my daddy." She knew the comment would get a rise out of him, because she knew he'd ment no ill intent, and she knew he cared for her. But she was mad, and so was he.

"No, n' you should thank fucking god he wasn't there to bust you. I was the better option, I can promise you that."

She exhaled a frustrated breath, turning her attention toward the windshield. Watching droplets of water paving their way over the condensation covered glass. "You weren't the only one to bust me, though, were you?" She spoke lowly, feeling like a coward for even asking. "The boys gonna say something?"

He gripped the steering wheel harder, his roughed up knuckles tearing. "I told em' I'd take care of it." It must've stung, but he took no notice. Other things pestered his mind.

Worry mixed in with all other emotions as her gaze drifted to his hands, and her mind immidetly moved into recovery mode. "So what's that mean, you gonna tattle on me now?"

He looked over at her, brows furrowed right beneath the rim of his hat. He couldnt begin to understand her. "That all you care about?"

"Right now? Well, yeah. I dont want a scolding."

"All grown and still daddy's little girl, worried about his opinions."

"And if I say yes, what then, girl?

"I dunno, m' gonna have to convince you not to."

"Like you convinced that guy to buy you beer, huh? What'd you do, flirt with him? Give him a handjob, suck him off? What did I miss before catching you?"

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "You fucking asshole!" She shook from anger, she never expected words like that to be thrown at her. Especially not by him. But she'd get him back, there was no reason behind her actions now. "Maybe I would've, I even bet it would've worked if I'd asked you. Right? You would've just loved having your friends pretty daughter gettin' you off, huh!" She half shouted the last sentence, her chest heaving with effort and fury.

"That's enough." His tone was unforgiving, shooting a sense of reality back into her.

"I'll shut up if you answer the god damned question Buck, would it have worked?"

But Bucky didn't answer, his jaw clenched and unclenched, biting back his words. If she thought the silence had been bad before? It was deafening now.

After calming down again, her words hit her like a freight train. She always had a friend in Buck, but now she wasn't sure. The words that'd been thrown back and forth had set them off balance, their entire relationship was on unsteady ground. Something had been rewritten in the rules between them.

There'd always been attraction, but that wasn't something they ever spoke of. They'd always been close, good friends even. But now, something had changed. And it made her feel sick. She'd had an ally in him, but now, she wasn't so certain.

After a long whole of shutting her mouth out of stubbornness, the fate of her father finding out was worse, so she broke. "Please don't bring me home, Buck. Dad'll throw a fit." She tried to smile, to soften her voice. But it felt wrong.

After a moments uncertainty on her part, and strained breathing on his, he spoke. "Im not makin' the detour, you can sleep at mine, that was always the plan anyway." He admitted, sounding utterly tired.

And now she felt extremely guilty, eyes studying him as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Her gaze drifted over his body, his face, his hands. Stopping on the roughed up and bloody knuckles. He'd beaten that guy for her. Out of jealousy, or simply because he was protective?

She turned away, her chest feeling hollow and followed the birches and sprucetress as they flashed by the truck. Their colors and textures blending together as they met the dark consistent sky above them.

Bucky's house was dark, he only lit a few tablelamps when they arrived. It was better that way, she recognized herself here, within the gloom and the safety of his home. It was second to her own.

"I'll get your something more comfortable," he said, his eyes avoiding her clothes, her body as a whole and disappeared into his bedroom.

Was it because he thought they didn't fit her, or the opposite? Had he been mad at himself for being attracted to her?

She nodded slowly, calling out to him, "we should do something about that hand of yours."

"It's fine, I'm fine." He said, re-emerging, meeting her eyes. "Here," he handed here a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, most likely too big for her. "I'll take the couch, n' you can take my bed."

She nodded again, and headed into the bathroom.

Buckys t-shirt was longer on her than the skirt she'd worn, so she opted out of the shorts. Luckily findig a roll of gauze in the bathroom cabinet.

She emerged from the bathroom, a pair of panties and the oversized t-shirt the only things on her body. "You want something to-" Bucky paused as she rounded the corner, and suddenly she herself stopped short–caught off guard.

Bucky stared at her, and whatever he'd been about to say was lost the second he looked up. Bucky cleared his throat, and with the weight of a 15 year long friendship on his shoulders, his eyes stayed glued to hers.

Inwardly, she smiled and hoped the lowly lit livingroom couldn't reveal the blush on her cheeks. "Found some gauze," she held the roll up, indirectly asking for permission to bandage him.

He opened his mouth to decline, she could even see his head begin to shake in dismissal.

But she cut in before he had the chance. "Just let me help, you can be mad and still let me help."

His eyes hardened, but hesitantly, he nodded all the same. "Im fine, doll."

She raised her brows with skepticism and made her way toward him, the fabric of buckys shirt doing its best at showcasing her breats.

Bucky clenched his fist in an attempt to control himself, he winced, the wounds on his knuckles re-opening.

"Yeah," she scoffed. "Sure seems fine to me." And placed herself infront of him. From his position on the couch, he had to look up at her. At that, a flicker of heat blazed in her core. Oh, those eyes. His big, pleading eyes, all sad and hurt. Did he want her gone or want her in some other way?

She kneeled, settling between his thighs and grabbed his hand. "You don't got to be so stubborn all the time. . . Just wanna help you." She wrapped his hand carefully, enjoying every second of his corse skin over hers. Once done, he tried flexing his hand, and winced again. He still hurt, that much was clear, but was too proud to admit it. "Want me to kiss it better?" She joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. But he did that thing again, where he said nothing, and instead clenched his jaw, as if holding back a yes. So she took her chance.

Keeping their eyes locked, she brought his wrapped knuckles to her lips, and kissed them through the bandage once, then moving further up to kiss the softer skin of the back of his hand. Again, his eyes were pleading, and he moved the hand to cup her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. She took it as encouragement and kissed his palm, his wrist, his forearm. She stood up on her knees, kissing his bicep and reached for his shirt to pull him closer. She cupped his face and brought him inches from her own, nuzzling her nose against his.

Finally, when her lips reached for his, he pulled away. "Stop, stop," he nudged his forehead against hers. "We can't," he moved his lips away, cheek to cheek, he kissed the soft spot in front of her ear. "We can't."

"Cant, or wont?" She asked dully.

Those pleading eyes were back, begging her not to make him answer that question. She nodded absentmindedly, pulled into her thoughts. She stood up and moved away from him, his hand sliding down her arm and locking around her wrist, stopping her. "Dont leave."

"I'm comin' back."

After a few minutes of bustling in the kitchen, she returned to him. Sidling up next to him on the couch, her curled up legs lulling into his lap as she handed him a whiskey glass, then cradled her own. He whispered a thank you, looking into her eyes, and she whispered a you're welcome, looking into his. Then they sat like that for a while, quiet, unmoving. Bucky's hands finding their home on her legs, glas in one hand and her knee in the other. Somehow, this wasn't crossing a line for them, this was their normal, this was something not even her family questioned, this was them.

"Im sorry, doll." he said finally. "I never meant to imply-"

"It's ok, Buck." He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him. "Really, It's fine. I'd rather not dwell on it."

Another moments silence passed between them, it was uncomfortable, but the unsaid lingered in the air like a thick wall between them, and hung over them with the threat of smothering. "We need to talk about us."

"I didn't like the way he was touchin' you," he said, choosing the topic before she had a chance at it. If he had to approach them, he would do it indirectly. "It didn't look like you were enjoyin' it."

Her eyebrows raised, "You would've punched him even if I were enjoying it." She commented sourley.

He squeezed her knee, gently rubbing circles into the skin beside. "He acted like he owned you," He turned his unscathed hand upside down, brushing his knuckles up and down her sensitive skin.

It all went straight to her head, veins throbbed with heat she didn't know she could feel. All brought out by a single touch of his hand.

But she wouldn't let off. "And what do you 'spouse beating him for it is?"

He stayed silent, his hand turned again, this time to grab her soft flesh, squeezing it with purpose. Much like the guy had done, but this felt different. This felt good, real good.

She swallowed, closing her eyes to focus on the words she needed to say. "What made you think you had the right? If not that I already belonged to–" she stopped, and their eyes met in a quick glance.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I was only protectin' you." He defended, but it didn't quite sound like he believed the words himself. Nor did she. But if he wasn't ready to see it as it was, she wouldn't pressure him.

Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder. "It shouldn't be this hard."

He shook his head, the words seemingly struck a cord within him. For he sat insilence, pondering, a long while. "I would've said no, you know. And it would've killed me." She looked at him strangely, forgetting what he was referring to for a moment. "I would've said yes, if you hadn't felt forced to it, like it was a last resort to keep your secret."

Oh. . . "Had I wanted it, you'd said yes?" She stared unbelieving into the dark space infront of them.

"Nothin' could stand in my way." He slid his hand further up her thigh, fingers exploring the skin just beneath the hem of his/her shirt.

She sat up straight to look at him properly, she couldn't tell if he was serious. "You want me?"

"More than anything," his voice was breathless, barely a whisper. His index and long finger reaching further up, exploring more than he'd ever dared. "Cant even explain how many times I imagined you gettin' me off after you said it. How much I hated the thought, the sight of you with that guy, his hands all on you."

A pang of need shot through her. She put her whiskey down, and braced her hands against his chest. "But why tell me now, whats changed? Whats changed in this last hour?" His fingers rubbed the skin of her hips beneath her panties, sending shivers running over her body, shivers she'd only previously dreamed he'd be the cause of.

"You're right, it shouldn't be this hard. I'm makin' it too hard." His hand slid to her waist, still invisible to him, but no longer untouchable. Magnetically, they were pulled together, faces inching closer and closer to oneanother.

"And what about daddy?" It was becoming hard to focus, she wouldn't stop him for the world. Bow, they were close enough to feel the dampness of their breaths.

His hand continued exploring farthur up, fingertips finally reaching the soft, plush flesh below her breast. "Your daddy ain't here, is he?"

She began shaking her head in disbelief, lips brushing against eachother. "Dont promise something if you can't follow through."

His hand stopped, "I can, please," he begged, waiting for her go-ahead. "I can. . ."

His words vibrated against her skin, electrifying her body. "Fuck," she moaned, he's right there. Right, there, infront of her, for her. "Then do, please do, Buck."

And just like that, both hands were beneath her shirt, pulling her into his lips and squeezing her breasts.

Breathless moans filled the silent air, they tore at eachother greedily. Pulling and pushing eachothers bodies, fighting to get Bucky free of his clothes.

Snaking one arm behind her back, he guided her down onto cushions and placed himself above her. Still clothed by jeans, he rolled his hips against her core, grinding the rough fabric against her barely clothed clit. This, is what she had been craving. The exact static friction, the heat and movement between their bodies producing all the pleasure she needed. She moaned heavily, beacause still, she wanted more. Pulling her legs up and her panties off, she wordlessly signaled for him to do the rest.

With a groan, Bucky dove into her neck, kissing and sucking, all the while he unzipped his jeans and pulled them off together with his boxers. No time was wasted, he lined his member up with her core within a second, prodding and teasing at the opening. "Please, please, please." She sounded desperate, but fuck, she was. And feeling it was worse then sounding it.

"Yes ma'am." He said, and thrusted into her. A gasp escaped them in unisome. With the arm still around her waist, he pulled her into his hips, his body straining as he delved deeper inside her than she thought possible.

"Yes. . ." She whined. "More."

He kissed his way up her throat, their hips freed and collided into eachother with steady, strong thrusts, pushing her deeper into the cushions with every rut. Nothing could compare, he was unparalleled. Bucky, despite what he was already achieving, kissed his way up her neck, unfaltering in his duty.

Her hands found his face, cupping it and bringing him back to her, and their lips met again. "Taste so sweet," he murmured, sinking his tongue into her. The salt of her skin mixing with her saliva. "Want all of you."

She smiled against him. "Harder."

He did as ordered, keeping his pace and adding pressure. "Yeah," he moaned. "Being so good for me, girl." And pulled her deeper onto his member. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow, fingers clawing at his back as she had nowhere to go, all pleasure directed straight into her. "Close, so fucking close," she cried.

"Good," he chuckled breathely against her skin, and that was a she needed. Her back arched in euphoria, and stars stung her eyelids, speckling the darkness. "Good job, sweetheart. Just breathe," he continued thrusting into her, softly, easing her through the orgasm. "Good girl. Well done. . ." He whispered, kissing her jaw. The stars began fading and she regained her senses, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Beautiful, girl." He moaned, still rutting into her, chasing his own high while wiping the tears from her face. Her body began tingling, on the vege of breaking down.

"Dont know how much more I can take, Buck." She kissed his cheek, focusing on the skill of his lips.

"Almost there, almost. . ." he moaned, increasing his pace. The slickness of her core created a sickening sound together with the slapping of their skin. It was heavenly, but she could feel the pressure building within her again.

"Mmmh, m' gonna cum again, please buck, dont stop."

He didn't, he continued, intent on coming together with her. He bit into her lip, causing her to yelp and yield the hold on his face and licked a trail down her chest and breast, then taking it into his mouth. Sucking and slurping in an insane rythm with the slapping. "Yes, yes! Fuck, Bucky." she called out, and Bucky pulled out of her.

Coming only a second after, his seed spilling over her abdomen. "I love you, I love you." He moaned with faltering breaths, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of her, kissing every part of skin that he could reach.

Holy shit? "I love you too." She smiled lazily, drunk off of her two consequent orgasms. Laying her hand on her stumache, she felt his sticky substance coat her fingers.

His eyebrows knit together in guilt. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I'll get a towel-"

She grabbed his bicep and shook her head, locking her eyes onto his as she brought the fingers to her lips and licked them off, popping them in her mouth to suck them clean.

Bucky stared, unable to form words.

"Cat got your tongue, cowboy?" She asked, a coy smile on her glistenting lips.

"Fuck," he awed breathlessly. "I just love you." He whispered, lowering himself onto her once again, this time striking his tongue into her core.

-

[reasonsforhope]

"It is 70 years since AT&T’s Bell Labs unveiled a new technology for turning sunlight into power. The phone company hoped it could replace the batteries that run equipment in out-of-the-way places. It also realised that powering devices with light alone showed how science could make the future seem wonderful; hence a press event at which sunshine kept a toy Ferris wheel spinning round and round.

Today solar power is long past the toy phase. Panels now occupy an area around half that of Wales, and this year they will provide the world with about 6% of its electricity—which is almost three times as much electrical energy as America consumed back in 1954. Yet this historic growth is only the second-most-remarkable thing about the rise of solar power. The most remarkable is that it is nowhere near over.

To call solar power’s rise exponential is not hyperbole, but a statement of fact. Installed solar capacity doubles roughly every three years, and so grows ten-fold each decade. Such sustained growth is seldom seen in anything that matters. That makes it hard for people to get their heads round what is going on. When it was a tenth of its current size ten years ago, solar power was still seen as marginal even by experts who knew how fast it had grown. The next ten-fold increase will be equivalent to multiplying the world’s entire fleet of nuclear reactors by eight in less than the time it typically takes to build just a single one of them.

Solar cells will in all likelihood be the single biggest source of electrical power on the planet by the mid 2030s. By the 2040s they may be the largest source not just of electricity but of all energy. On current trends, the all-in cost of the electricity they produce promises to be less than half as expensive as the cheapest available today. This will not stop climate change, but could slow it a lot faster. Much of the world—including Africa, where 600m people still cannot light their homes—will begin to feel energy-rich. That feeling will be a new and transformational one for humankind.

To grasp that this is not some environmentalist fever dream, consider solar economics. As the cumulative production of a manufactured good increases, costs go down. As costs go down, demand goes up. As demand goes up, production increases—and costs go down further. This cannot go on for ever; production, demand or both always become constrained. In earlier energy transitions—from wood to coal, coal to oil or oil to gas—the efficiency of extraction grew, but it was eventually offset by the cost of finding ever more fuel.

As our essay this week explains, solar power faces no such constraint. The resources needed to produce solar cells and plant them on solar farms are silicon-rich sand, sunny places and human ingenuity, all three of which are abundant. Making cells also takes energy, but solar power is fast making that abundant, too. As for demand, it is both huge and elastic—if you make electricity cheaper, people will find uses for it. The result is that, in contrast to earlier energy sources, solar power has routinely become cheaper and will continue to do so.

Other constraints do exist. Given people’s proclivity for living outside daylight hours, solar power needs to be complemented with storage and supplemented by other technologies. Heavy industry and aviation and freight have been hard to electrify. Fortunately, these problems may be solved as batteries and fuels created by electrolysis gradually become cheaper...

The aim should be for the virtuous circle of solar-power production to turn as fast as possible. That is because it offers the prize of cheaper energy. The benefits start with a boost to productivity. Anything that people use energy for today will cost less—and that includes pretty much everything. Then come the things cheap energy will make possible. People who could never afford to will start lighting their houses or driving a car. Cheap energy can purify water, and even desalinate it. It can drive the hungry machinery of artificial intelligence. It can make billions of homes and offices more bearable in summers that will, for decades to come, be getting hotter.

But it is the things that nobody has yet thought of that will be most consequential. In its radical abundance, cheaper energy will free the imagination, setting tiny Ferris wheels of the mind spinning with excitement and new possibilities.

This week marks the summer solstice in the northern hemisphere. The Sun rising to its highest point in the sky will in decades to come shine down on a world where nobody need go without the blessings of electricity and where the access to energy invigorates all those it touches."

-via The Economist, June 20, 2024

[badkitty3000]

Breaking The Rules

Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink

So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:

"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"

I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.

Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️

You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.

Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.

As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.

There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.

Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.

There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.

Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.

As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.

So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.

Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.

You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.

It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.

“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”

You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”

Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.

“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”

You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”

You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”

Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”

“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.

Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.

“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.

“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”

Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.

“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”

Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”

Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”

“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”

Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.

Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.

Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.

“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”

“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.

“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.

“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”

“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”

“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.

“What is it?”

“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”

“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”

With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”

Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”

“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”

“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”

Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”

He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”

As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”

He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”

Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”

The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.

“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”

“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”

“No way, I don��t believe it. Not him.”

You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”

“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”

You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”

“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”

“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”

Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.

You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?

You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.

“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”

“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.

“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”

You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”

You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”

“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”

When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”

Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”

You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”

“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.

You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Maybe just one thing.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”

“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”

“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”

“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”

His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”

“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”

“Why not?”

“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”

“Normally?” he cut in.

You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”

Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”

“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.

You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”

“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”

The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.

“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”

“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”

“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.

“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.

He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”

“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”

He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”

At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.

“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”

Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”

“But what?”

“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”

He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”

“As modest as always.”

“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”

“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”

“I did not know that.”

“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”

“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”

Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”

When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.

“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.

“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.

“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.

After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”

As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.

“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”

Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.

Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.

“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.

Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”

Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.

When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.

“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.

Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.

You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.

“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.

Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.

“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”

A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.

“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”

When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.

“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.

“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.

“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.

Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.

“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.

He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.

“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.

When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.

“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”

Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.

“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.

“Five?”

“What do you need, darling?”

“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”

He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”

When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.

“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.

Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.

“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”

Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.

“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”

You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.

Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.

Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.

When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.

You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”

After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.

“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.

“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”

When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.

“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”

Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”

“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”

“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”

After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.

Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.

You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.

Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.

You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.

Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.

Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.

The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.

It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.

Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.

After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.

He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.

“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.

You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”

He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”

He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”

Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”

“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”

Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.

Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.

Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.

“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”

Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”

The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”

“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”

There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”

“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.

“That is correct, yes. But—”

“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”

“Well…yes…I suppose…”

You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”

He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”

The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”

Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”

There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”

Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.

What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.

He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”

You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”

“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”

The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.

“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”

You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”

His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.

You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”

Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”

Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”

Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.

“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.

You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”

“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.

Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.

“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.

“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.

[firestorm09890]

there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.

this

She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.

But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.

And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.

Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.

I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.

the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.

She absolutely does not feel this way.

On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:

Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...

Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.

and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)

Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is Ryōshū's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way

...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy

I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon

[moondirti]

animalic (3)

← chapter two // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: he's got a plan that neither of you like warnings: enemies to lovers, predator/prey dynamics, biting, bondage, temporary paralysis, concussions, miguel is not nice, no use of y/n notes: this was supposed to be longer but the cut off at the original point was super awkward. this chapter is super exciting for all you fang lovers out there

You really can’t catch a break. 

The city bustles with a verve rivalling your own, a kaleidoscope of luminescence dancing upon the glass facades of its skyscrapers. Their spires pierce the ink-dark cloak of night, and if you weren’t so busy running for your life, you’d stop to admire the way their aviation obstruction lights mimic the stars back home. 

(Everything has a trade off, you suppose. You remember what it was like as light pollution gave away to reveal the cosmos above, the beauty of it lost upon your own grief.)

Now, it’s fear – clinging like a shadowy spectre to your heels. The pavement is unforgiving beneath you, each step sending a jolt of energy through your bones. Despite it, you can’t go any faster. Sidewalks crowd with the humdrum of everyday life – people filtering out from work and bodegas, dressed in a slightly odd fashion, their clothes a reminder of your unfamiliar landscape. Car horns blend into one another, providing an unsteady tempo to the race of your heart. 

It’s disorienting, all of it. Times like these, you wish you’d been given the opportunity to hone your abilities. Stamina, flexibility. Web shooters in particular would have proved handy in avoiding the bustle of the ground. 

Of course, he has that advantage on you too. 

You can’t see Miguel, but you sense his proximity. It prods you, nipping at your flesh in a constant assault, intensifying goosebumps and raising hairs. Your spider sense usually doesn’t last this long, solely serving as a warning for immediate danger. Yet that’s just what he is, immediate. Dangerous. Predatory eyes track your every move, sourced from all directions. He’s everywhere; atop buildings, within alleys. Neon signs morph into twisted apparitions; serrated talons, red skulls. 

How did he track you down so fast? 

The day pass? 

You wonder if he’d brought back-up – whether there are other spider-heroes here who trust in his noble cause. Your anxiety triples, and passerby’s begin to warp too. Their hurried footsteps now strike discordant notes, amplifying your isolation. You think you see some tense their wrists, or unbutton their coats, ready to reveal their tailored suits and ensure the capture you’ve managed to evade thus far. 

It’s luck. It’s only ever been luck, and that fact changes depending on who you ask. You’ve never outsmarted him, never disabled him. You just so happen to have the power of being a pain in his ass. 

Something itches at you, though. A nagging sense of foreboding. His presence in the past has spurred chagrin, annoyance, and – admittedly – arousal. But the genuine terror that lights your nerves now is new. Perhaps because you understand him, are far more familiar with his pride than most. The logical part of you can predict that he won’t let you off so easily, not after your stunt with the kiss. You won’t – can’t – get away this time, even if it damn well nearly kills him. 

Any hope you had of a bargain dissipates, rolling back from shore and into the depths of an elusive sea. You jerk the rubber band off your wrist, throwing it into some undisclosed corner.

In a then desperate bid to throw him off, your path loses cohesion. Like a leaf seized by a tempest, you turn based on split-second instinct, weaving through the labyrinth of New York’s grid. Your body sways in frenzy, bolstered by pure adrenaline, which works to dim everything else. Your ribs haven’t fully healed yet – they’d taken a pretty bad beating upon your last fight with Miguel – but you can barely feel the ache as you focus purely on the task at hand. 

Your determination surges, recklessness taking hold of your rationale. Veering abruptly, you just about collide with the racing line of cars that flow at a green light. In fact, you think you do. Your skin prickles, and a taxi runs straight through you, blearing a loud honk all the while. Some vehicles break off, drifting around your form at the last minute. In your peripheral, you can see the glowing red of your pursuers web, stretched across the gap between two apartment complexes. 

Chest tightening, your breathing loses depth at the sight, shallowing to leave room for the distress that torrents up your system. You clamber up on the hoods of parked cars, using a mast arm pole to propel yourself forward. It’s a fruitless effort. You know it’s too late – have known it since he walked into that convenience, prowling in search of one thing. 

(A lion only catches its prey a quarter of the time. But that twenty-five percent?)

Your ankle is the first victim to his hardwearing web, wrapped in the silk and pulled out from underneath you. The back of your head smacks into the concrete below, a high pitched ring reverberating through your skull upon impact. The collision sends a shock wave of pain throughout your being, and in that harrowing moment, everything stutters to a crawl. Spots speckle behind your clenched eyelids, metallic warmth flooding your mouth.

Well, fuck. 

To add insult to injury, your atoms rip apart and splice into one another, a consequence of your abandoned day pass. The glitch aggravates the headache that begins to pound at you. You’d allowed yourself to forget how bad it could be. 

The willpower that had just played a forefront in your mind steadily starts to trickle out, absorbed by your humiliation and the ground below. 

“You really gonna give up that easily?” 

Yes. 

You make a point to never lie to yourself. In truth, you won’t ever get enough of Miguel’s cadence. Deep and resonant – it smoulders with a charred ruggedness. Commanding attention, rumbling like distant thunder, an unmistakable authority woven into each word. Yet, even amidst the rough contours, there lingers a softness, a subtle grace that soothes the edges of his threats. 

(Sharp claws, sharp teeth, sharp cheekbones. Soft voice.)

More webs bind you, erupting from an unclear point to circle your legs, chest, and secure your arms behind your back. You’re diminished to little more than an aggravated caterpillar, ensnared in a spider’s web. And, just as his little game of bondage draws to a close, said spider stalks within view, splitting through the crowd that quickly forms around the commotion. 

With his mask on, he stands as completely impenetrable. You, on the other hand, try to reduce your quivering the best you can, afraid of relaying how truly pathetic you feel. 

“Maybe I’m biding my time.” You bite back, calling on a complete bluff. “I’m sure you know how good I am at that?” It’s a low blow. Even if you could control when and where to phase out, you wouldn’t get very far before he catches up to you again. 

But Miguel doesn’t waver in his closing in – not until he towers over you, looking down at your incapacitated state. Space buckles under the gravity of his existence; you, too, can feel yourself sinking, drawn in closer by the credence that bubbles off him in flares. You wish you had a cover – your pair of makeshift goggles, a face mask, anything that could elevate you to a degree relative to his. But you’re bare, figuratively naked, and you’ve never hated him more. 

He lingers, assessing you, weighing his options. The moment he turns to survey the mass of people who look on inquisitively, you wiggle upward into a sitting position, then throw your head forwards, aiming for his crotch. His wrist gets in the way, though, blocking your pitiful attack on his only defenceless area. Your forehead cracks against his dimensional travel watch, shattering its screen. 

“Tu puta madre!” Miguel hisses, snapping back to survey the gadget while you begin to slink away. He seems to have an eye on you, however, because you’re tugged back just as soon as you make the effort.

Like a naughty cat. You shift uncomfortably at the thought. 

“Are you gonna spend all night deciding what to do with me, then? I have plans, even if you don’t.” 

“Plans. I have plans alright.” The low timbre of his threat slices you where it hurts.

With a calculated flex of his shoulders, he crouches down, gathering the webs around your arms. They serve as leverage when he hauls you upward, exercising his muscles – of which you’d suspected had been padding up to this point – with one swift motion. The world upends on itself, nausea enveloping your senses with its oppressive weight. It allows space for little else; not the uncertainty, not the trepidation. You divert all your efforts on keeping your scarce lunch down, accepting the possibility of a concussion by product of his less-than-refined manhandling. 

The journey to wherever he takes you is not at all long enough for you to recover. Before you know it, he’s busting through the creaky door of an empty storelot, carelessly tossing you to the floor. Your vision doubles. 

Yeah. Definitely a concussion. 

Like you could afford one right now. 

“You’ll stay, and you’ll listen.” He points an accusatory finger. 

“Sure. Until I’ve had enough, that is.” 

“And where would you go, exactly?” 

“Nice try, O’hara. Like I’d tell you,” Snickering, you let your head roll to face the ceiling. The action sends you back to earlier, to the robbery you’ve been seeking to suppress. How careless you’d been, letting your fortune to date trick you into thinking that any collateral was safe too. You’d killed that woman. You. “Maybe I’ll fall right through the floor. That way, you’ll never have to worry about seeing me again.” 

The notion makes him pause mid-pace, hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at you with what you imagine is the most earnest glare. The air bobs, suspended in static tension, a crackling constant that only unravels once he seems to make up his mind. 

Marching forward, he drags you along with him to a nearby wall, upon which he then pushes you upward until you have to look down to meet his eyeline. Your bound legs kick forward, but the struggle hardly affects him. 

“I didn’t want to resort to this.” 

You assume he means treating you like a toddler does its shiny new toy, hurling you across this playpen of a city. “You really didn’t have to, then.” 

He stays quiet, fists clenching tighter around you. 

“I suppose we’re past the courtesy of letting the other recover from the last fight before starting a new one? My forearm is still fucked, thanks to you. Maybe if you’d given it some time, I would’ve proved more of a challenge today.” Your words, whilst never your most steadfast allies, betray you in lieu of this restlessness, tumbling forth with unruly incoherence.

Miguel's mask pulls back, the nanotech collapsing to just above his adams apple. Your mouth moves faster. 

“Okay, I get it. The fate of the multiverse and all that. I’ll listen, whatever you want, but at least try and make the lecture original.” 

His hand cups your jaw, tightening around your chin to firmly guide it upwards. Your throat stretches taut at the motion, its smooth expanse spread across the wall – an evening repast for a party of one. The imagery breaks down an all too sobering realisation into fragments small enough for you to register. His talons rest against your cheek, bordering perilously close to your waterline. 

Traces of that patchouli aftershave hit you. His skin looks especially bronzed in the dark, highlighted at the edges from the phosphorescence outside. His curls droop where they’re plastered to a sweat slicked hairline. 

You can’t help it. Your gaze flickers down to those plush lips.

Fuck. Fuck. It’d felt so good to kiss them. 

Please let this just be a kiss. 

“O-Or go with the… the usual, y’know. I don’t–” 

Miguel lunges, sinking his fangs into the fleshy sinew of your neck.

Christ.

Your jaw hangs open, but no breaths filter in. Shock wedges itself at the site of his bite, implacable, steadfast as a barrier between logic and uninhibited emotion. Your reasoning plays no part in this, provides absolutely no valuable contribution to the series of reactions you undergo. 

It’s physical, first. The cold slither of paralytic venom distends through your nerves, neurotoxins striking their functions, rendering them useless beyond the point of sensation. Which, you’d say, is the cruellest part. Miguel’s poison doesn’t stop you from feeling anything; not the puncture, nor the burn. You can truly feel it, trekking its graceful path to all muscles in your body, taking hold of the tissue, suppressing their vitality. Your back arches, your body doing its very best to fight what it cannot prevent. It cracks up your bone, down your spine. Your toes unfurl, fingers loosening to hang lamely at your side. 

And, when you lose all executive authority over yourself, you’re pulled in to centre on his mouth again. His canines slowly retract, tongue taking their place. It’s warm – so fucking warm – and dextrous, covertly lathering the blood that beads down your nape. 

Your last proper breath is wasted on a whine; a loud, keening, absolutely wanton whine. After it, you can do nothing but hold your flat inhales to cycle in as much oxygen as possible – diaphragm weak, your resolve weaker.

Miguel draws away, letting you slump to the floor, heavy and just as useless as a sack of flour. He wipes the excess carmine from his chin, kneeling to regard your glassy eyed stare. 

“Fall through now, and you’re as good as dead.” 

(You might as well already be.)

chapter four →

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[flcwermimi]

❛ THE ICEBERG EFFECT IN THE VOID STATE ❜

Even after doing right things / following the right method / being persistant towards our desires sometimes we don't get the fruitful outcome and we all have asked ourselves WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?

According to the research our conscious mind which is aware of our feelings, thoughts and behaviour is like a tip of an ICEBERG visible above the water & on the other hand majority of the iceberg, representing the unconscious mind, lies hidden beneath the surface.The unconscious mind is thought to contain instincts, repressed memories, and other mental processes that we are not directly aware of, but which still influence our behavior and decision-making.

Hand to Hand same happens on our Void/Manifestation journey. The ICEBERG in the void state are :

— SUPPRESSED EMOTIONS - Not being able to confess what u actually feel & often ignoring the emotions overcome this by doing some action regarding when u actually feel happy or angry CONFESS IT ' I am happy/ angry '

— UNRESOLVED PAST TRAUMA/ ISSUE - Even u feel it doesn't effect at all but it does unconsciously the burden of UNRESOLVED THINGS or UNADRESSES ISSUE can lead to several mental issue and to overcome it once must overlook yourself, apologize if u are wrong,get help, share their feelings with someone

— SCARED OF THEIR DESIRE - Often someone DM 's me saying that they're scared of having their desire which is completely normal and I feel to restrict this feeling from their self once should just appreciate their self , hangout with good energy people and decrease their screen time

— SOMETHING HOLDING BACK : From my recent post I got many DM regarding how they feel what is holding them back and it's important to have knowledge on the rights things misinformation sometimes stick to ourselves very deeply

— SELF DOUBT : Many people doubts them regarding the how powerful they're, they often find validation to have their desire so it's very important to work on self-concepts and stop questioning " is it possible" or " can I have this or that?"

— NOT STICKING TO ONE THING : One individual when they're trying to enter void often keeps changing methods or finding something which can magically help them and it often leads them finding hard to believe in any methods. Even if u fail at one method at 3 - 4 times doesn't mean it's not effective it's all about mindsets u must stick to one thing and stop looking sources like ' enter the void instantly/ do this method to happen in second ' because u are not realising how powerful u are actually u don't need those things everything is on your command

— COMPLICATING THINGS : As I seen so many of people making a bunch of routine it irritates me cause They are listening subliminals also and on the side they are even doing robotic affirmation and also five minutes they are doing PSYCH -K and next they are also doing mediation and on the night they will put long bunch hypnosis and in the same night they are doing WBTB method trust me you don't need so much things u doing these all things result that u are putting the void on the pedestal Just question yourself this all is needed?doing so much u are exhausting yourself physically and mentally

— TIME : For those who really starts to panic when they don't enter void on the specific time it's ok time hasn't been wasted nothing is wrong when u didn't enter the void on your specific time the only thing u will be doing wrong in that time is making diffrent theories, underestimating yourself, finding different methods, saying yourself a failure

So these we're some things I wanted to list from the very starting I hope u all read it all through find what is actually stopping you and there is no guarantee this thing happens to each and everyone I have listed it down by over analysing the success stories, my experience

Further what u can do is listen to self concept subliminals, building confidence, don't overwork on your selves, stop finding validation and logic in everything , surrounding yourself with postive beliefs , patience is virtue so keep persisting , do something new daily as if meditate or write a journal or share your thoughts with others learn new skills

That's it all no iceberg effect is bigger than you so stop doubting yourself you can do this it's all easy peasy 🤍🫶

[copperpipes]

The Reach are not on the planet yet you know what that means?

Beetle in the exosphere!

I. Hate. Nanotech. I hate when its overused and when its potential is boiled down to stuff appearing out of thin air by superhero movies (looking at you Ironman, could have stopped at the briefcase suit smh the su*cide squad 2021 got it a little better). So I'm doing my best to avoid that especially because one of the main things of the beetle is that he makes weapons out of thin air. So I made him lose the bones instead.

The beetle, no matter the host, is very, very heavy for its size. Every ounce of mass that can be compressed, is compressed, to allow the body to hold as much more building materials as possible. Fat is compressed, bone marrow now produces and holds not only red blood cells but also 'blue carbon', the scarab's major building materials. Even some muscle fiber is replaced and looks black-purplish under the skin, especially around the shoulders and general back area.

Everything deemed 'useless' will be destroyed and replaced and or made into blue carbon holding/production areas. Yellow bone marrow can stop being useless and at least Jaime wouldn't need to worry about appendix removal now 👍

Red bone marrow still produces red blood cells, and the scarab is helping with that too, but when the beetle transforms into its battle form the out layer of the bones dissolve and join the exoskeleton, and the marrow stays held in place by everything else to keep producesing blue carbon. It is then led to where it's needed by the blood stream.

Responsible for all that powers the beetle's weapons is the scarab's power source, whatever it is its probably extremely radioactive and so its incased in a layer of scales (see in the second image) which keeps the energy in and protect the host from it, also so it won't get detected.

Jaime doesn't know all that.

And side note while Jaime's size hasn't changed, his beetle form is smaller then he is :]

This is just the beetle's anatomy, i have not talked about the host's connection to the scarab and the original purpose of the scarab by the reach, hell i've just briefly mention the scarab's anatomy, there's still so much...

(I am not finished)

@wazzappp again. I know you would want to see this.

[loveemagicpeace]

🍬Uranus Energy🍬

Uranus may signify death through accident, injury, or natural disaster, but at least it never signifies the death-in-life that is characteristic of Saturn. Thus, although Uranus energies can be extremely difficult to live with, the measure of chaos that they introduce is essential for life. Life is to a great extent a balancing of the orderly forces of Saturn with the chaotic forces of Uranus. Each has its place, and each needs to be kept in check by the other. Uranus represents something very different, very unique. But can also be very strange and unfamiliar. Anywhere you have uranus in your house it shows where your life is the most different. Uranus energies coming too soon in life can cause a chronically erratic quality that prevents any kind of maturation and produces an individual incapable of taking part in the social contract. Such people are automatic rebels: they rebel simply to negate order, even when order is still useful. Whatever it may affect or symbolize takes the form of something unusual, far different from the everyday world.

🦋Uranus in 1st house- you might present yourself differently to others or feel somehow out- of step. You can play a role as outsider, bringing valuable insight to outmoded situations. Your appearance is unique and your beauty can also be original and different from others. These people tend to have a different perspective than the rest. They think and look at life outside the box. You usually don't like things related to systems, you prefer to stick to your own rules. This placement often indicates an unconventional approach to life. This suggests that you are a very individualistic person, who operates the best on their own.

🌱Uranus in 2nd house-Financial fortunes might be subject to sudden changes, perhaps a result of not playing it safe. Income might come from independent freelance sources. Your money can go up and down very quickly. You can also have a different way of making money. This can lead to a unique approach to finances, a deep understanding of personal values, and an unconventional path to self-expression. Another strength of this placement is its innovative, progressive energy. You have a different way of managing your money. You spend a lot of money on things that are more dreamy. You have a free way of managing money and it doesn't mean much to you.

🌱Uranus in 3rd house- Your mind works at lightning speed. You can be single-minded in the way you think, with a talent for presenting the opposite view. Your way of thinking is often contradictory and different from the others. Many times your thinking and manner can confuse other people. This can also mean that your relationship with relatives is distant and cold. Your thoughts are often ahead of their time, leading you to challenge established ideas and concepts. Uranus here can also cause sudden accidents on the road. You have to be careful how you drive.

💕Uranus in 4th house- Early independence may have been high on the agenda. You might opt to rent rather than buy, so you can change the scenery from time to time. At home, you can often be rebellious and do things on your own. The relationship with the mother can be more distant, cold and perhaps strange. You can move a lot and the moves are usually sudden. Uranus can make a home unstable and strange.

🍭Uranus in 5th house-You have potential for genuine creative originality, although your challenge might be to allow it to land and take form, because each idea is rapidly superseded by the next. Your dates are usually sudden, different, and you may always feel that this area is not so close to you. Many times people can suddenly surprise you (positively or negatively) - also many times you don't get an answer as to why something happened the way it did. You can also suddenly fall in love. Pregnancy can happen spontaneously and the child may be born different from the others.

🍸Uranus in 6th house- You probably need some excitement in your daily round. Being freelance might suit you, so you can set your own routine and timetable. You like work that is independent and free. Above all, what you need is freedom - you hate when someone is above you and tells you what to do. Your rebellious path can be most effective through work. But since this house also represents the physical body, health - it means that you may have some disease that is unusual or you may have some skin problems that are unusual.

🛼Uranus in 7th house- You may prefer to break up with someone who curtails your freedom. Partners may seem unpredictable, but perhaps an assertion of your independence is at the root of it. You can go into a relationship suddenly or end it suddenly. Many times you can attract people who are different, strange, unique, smart. You can have certain conditions that you like about the relationship and stick to them. Few meet your standards. But you need a lot of freedom. Uranus can mean that marriage can be sudden. The law, however, can be quite different from normal laws. It suggests an individual who seeks independence, freedom, and excitement within their intimate connections. Uranus in this house indicates that you seek the company of people who have similar views as you do.

🏹Uranus in 8th house- You can shine intellectual light into life's mysteries, bringing clarity and rational discourse. It might be important to you to maintain your distance in intimate encounters. Because it is also the house of transformation, rebirth & things connected with needles, blood also sugerirs. It also means that you can go for sudden surgery. It can also mean a sudden loss. But you can deal with a loss in a different way than others. They are likely to attract unconventional partners who challenge their views on intimacy and shared resources. It can lead to successful relationships, marriages, and beneficial business opportunities. On the other hand, it can also create disruption in relationships due to its unpredictable nature and an unwillingness to conform.

🥊Uranus in 9th house-Going to university or grappling with religious principles can bring enlightenment - but you might also be inclined to question, rejecting orthodoxy and tradition. You can be very rebellious when it comes to church, religion, other culture and you can also be very controversial about that. Cuz you can also have your own religion that you believe in. Your opinion about the world can be completely different and the places that interest you can also be very unusual. You can also travel to places that others would never go. Especially to unpopular places. You can also have a very unpopular opinion about the world things & around you.

🎱Uranus in 10th house-Bowing to authority is not your style and you may choose work which encourages your independent vision and allows you to change track when it suits you. You can also be very rebellious when it comes to authority figures. The career may be in constant motion, but this can make it difficult to identify with a profession. They are often innovative thinkers with a knack for science and technology, and they bring originality and ingenuity into their development efforts. This often leads to unique and inventive career opportunities, an exciting public image, and the potential for innovative and progressive thinking.

🏝️Uranus in 11th house-This placement offers a parodox: how to maintain your freedom and autonomy within a democratic context. You could play the role of agitator, bringing radical change. You can have a unique way of doing things and seeing them. Many times it is strictly seen that you have the characteristics of uranus. U can also have very unique group or friends. This placement suggests that you enjoy taking part in online discussions where you can connect with like-minded people. Uranus here suggests that you are not interested in everyday goals, craved by most people. You have unique visions for your life. But you can also have the feeling that you are quite different from your friends (can also be lonely placement).

🧚🏼‍♀️Uranus in 12th house-Perhaps you hide your unconventionality so as to fit in - reclaiming this can help set you free. Your radar for collective trends can put you ahead of your time. You can also struggle with spirituality, things that are hidden ,unconscious -this doesn't mean that you don't believe in it, but you can have complex believing into this stuff. They may have dreams, intuitions, or sudden insights that challenge societal norms and traditional beliefs. It often happens with this placement that your parents expected a child with a different type of personality. As a child, you felt that you have to live up to their expectations, but you were struggling on the inside. Social conventions annoy you, but you struggle to express this.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🎸❤️‍🔥🧚🏼‍♀️

[fuctacles]

<<😺😺😺😺 | 😺😺😺😺😺😺>>

if i didn't respond to your comment it's bc desktop tumblr didn't let me, I still love and appreciate y'all

Maybe tomorrow he'd bring his book here, and keep the cats company while he reads. Would they like it if he read it out loud?

Oh lord, the crazy cat lady energy must be rubbing off on him already.

The cats certainly are. He looks down at his black attire now speckled with cat hair, and sighs. He should have asked Steph where the lint roller was before she left. With great effort, he stands up from the comfy couch, vowing to himself to only do a cursory search with no unnecessary peeking. 

The entrance seems like an obvious start since people like to de-hair themselves before leaving the house. The dresser next to the door is cluttered with typical things - sunglasses, hand lotion, chapstick, some loose change, and jewelry. No roller in sight. So he goes to the kitchen instead, because kitchen is where everything goes. The cats are watching him curiously from their chosen perches around the house.

"Stop it. This is all your fault."

He finally finds what he's looking for on a windowsill next to a dead fly. He starts cleaning his clothes there, next to the fridge, and its colorful display catches his attention. 

There's an Ewok magnet that looks handmade, holding up a birthday card, and a few holiday photos, capturing smiling people in swimming costumes. Some of them look older, like the photo of a kid in a wizard robe, or a pair of bloodied-up teenagers in sailor costumes, which must be a very obscure reference because Eddie hasn't seen it at any costume party before. 

The caption under the photo reads BFF but someone added a circle of smaller F's all around the photo, turning them into a frame. Which, if Eddie's connecting the dots correctly, would imply that it's Robin and Steph. The quality isn't the best, but at first glance, he's assumed it must be a family member, maybe a brother, but he remembers her saying she's an only child. 

He tracks the other photos, but most of them are new, of the Steph he already knows. There might be more around the apartment, though. 

But he's already rolled his shirt and he'll be back tomorrow morning anyway, so he quickly works on his pants' legs, gives the cats a wave, and leaves. 

While walking back, he's apparently so lost in his thoughts, he gets startled by his own uncle.

"The cats still alive?"

"Do you want?! Me?! To die?!" Eddie screeches, eyes wide and a hand on his heart, the other holding him upright against the wall. "Why the fuck are you sitting there in the dark?!"

Wayne looks pointedly at the lamp next to him, then to his nephew. Aside from his reading nook in the corner though, the living room has no other light sources right now, but Eddie just throws his hands in defeat, deciding not to argue. Especially not when his uncle finally folded and was reading Blade Runner. 

"Must have been thinking some guilty thoughts, huh?" 

"Excuse me?" Eddie takes a step back from his course towards the kitchen. His uncle was flipping a page in his book, clearly not reading but not looking up from it either. 

"To get scared like that. Did you do something bad, son?" He finally looks up, and Eddie doesn't like it. He looks exactly like his friends just before teasing him about something. "Saw something you shouldn't have?"

Eddie folds his arms and sticks his nose up, hoping the evening darkness hides his warming cheeks. 

"I don't know what kind of panty raiding you do up there, but I'm not a pervert."

"Panty riding, huh?" Wayne raises his eyebrows in interest. "That what you boys do in college these days?"

"Do you want a sandwich? Some tea maybe?" Eddie has already turned his back to him and is switching the light on in the kitchen. "And the cats are fine, thanks for asking!"

"Yes and yes. Thank you!" 

Eddie prepares them sandwiches and teas and grabs his own book so they can read in silence waiting for the evening news. It's nice to have this, a break from busy and loud college life, just sharing silence and love for books with his uncle. 

That is, of course, until Wayne looks at his watch and puts the book down to exchange it for a remote. Eddie likes to keep his nose in the book until the news become too distracting or he catches something interesting being reported on. His uncle has other plans for him this time. 

"You know it's alright to like her, right?"

Eddie lowers his book, slightly incredulous that Wayne is still talking about it. He looks at him with wide eyes.

"You really want me to fuck your neighbor, huh?"

Finally, his uncle gets a taste of his own medicine, almost choking on the tea that he unfortunately decided to sip on at that moment. Eddie: one, Wayne: zero.

But later, the score evened out again, as all Eddie could think of while trying to sleep were the pictures on the fridge, and plowing his uncle's neighbor into her mattress until she screamed. 

The next morning, with not enough sleep under his belt, Eddie skips two sets at a time, because he totally absolutely royally forgot about the fucking plant. 

He fumbles with the keys, can hear the inquisitive meows on the other side of the door, and once he's in he takes a beeline to the kitchen, ignoring the little creatures following him like they have been starving on the streets and he was a fresh batch of tuna factory waste.

The plant looks normal, the same as it did 24 hours ago, and he waters it as per instructions while trying not to even brush its leaves because he truly believes his touch might kill it. His track record with plants indicates so. Only then does he turn to the meowing bunch at his feet. 

"Hello, little demons. Time to feast."

The cats are fed, their mouths making unpleasant wet noises against the equally wet food, and Eddie has a moment to take a curious walk around the place, in search of more photos.

He finds a wedding photo, with Steph in a pink dress and stunning make up dancing with a man with curly hair. There's one from a barbecue, where Steph is being hugged by a tall man with a mustache. She's wearing jean shorts and a sweater in this one, and somehow, looks a bit off. It looks older than the wedding one. 

But a true treasure chest is the huge frame he finds above a small bookcase.

It's a collage titled 'The fucking journey' that seems to be a collection of Polaroids from a multitude of workplaces, with the same two people present. Year after year, one job after another, until they got where they are today. 

It starts with a 1983 and the sailor costumes he's already seen. They are less bruised and more tired in this one. Knowing where to start, Eddie's eyes track from one photo to another, observing Stephanie's features, her wardrobe, and her hair change until she becomes the woman she is today. 

There was no boy in that photo on the fridge. It's always been her. Growing into herself. 

Is this what his uncle was talking about? Well, not talking, but being annoyingly vague about it, like he wasn't sure what he was talking about himself. 

Fear not, Uncle Wayne. Eddie's going to pick up every pamphlet and every zine he can put his hands on, to educate them both about who their neighbor is, how to navigate the topic and respect her the way she deserves.

[azrielsdove]

Longing Pt.2: Cassian

Warning: Violence, Suggestiveness

Pt.1 Here

***

Yelling woke you up early the next morning. You opened your eyes and took in the way the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet, the room still cast in shadow. You looked towards the cracked door, quickly discovering the source of the sounds that woke you.

Azriel and Cassian.

“Why should I let you in there? I had to give her triple dose of sleeping tea to get her asleep. Even then, she shook and cried all night! Because of you.” Azriel’s words sent a cold chill down your spine, before the heat of embarrassment took over. Oh gods. They were out there arguing about you.

“Well, maybe she needs me! I just want to help her.” Cassian is almost pleading with Azriel, his tone desperate.

Azriel scoffs. “If you truly cared about her you wouldn’t have had your tongue down someone else’s throat! I don’t know what’s going on with you Cassian, but figure it out. I’m not letting you do any more damage to her.” You shut your eyes again as you heard him walk back into the room, not wanting to discuss that you overheard some of their fight. The bed sunk down next to you and you felt light fingers brush your hair off your face, a deep sigh coming from your friend. You knew he had a fierce protectiveness over you, the sister he never had. He hurt as much as you did.

***

You would have rather stayed tucked up in your bed for the rest of your life, but Azriel was having that. “Come to training. I promise you will feel better to be out there moving again!” He pulled the warm blankets off of you, ignoring your cry of protest. “Come on. You have five minutes to get out of this bed and get dressed, or I am dragging you up there as you are.” You glared at him, crossing your arms tightly in front of you.

“I’m not going.” He crossed his arms as well, giving you the same glare you were giving him.

“It is not a choice.”

“You will not force me.”

“I will not let you waste away in this room! You will come willingly or I will drag you kicking and screaming, but you will go.” You fought hard to keep your eyes locked on his before groaning and falling backwards on your bed.

“Fine. Get out so I can change.”

***

You shivered in the cold morning air, thinking of all the ways you were going to get Azriel back for this. He had barely allowed you to get your training leathers on before barging back into your room and dragging you out to the training ring. You had no interest in being up here today, and especially had no interest in seeing Cassian all over Nesta. The rather innocent jealousy from before had turned into a vicious evil darkness, your vision going red every time you looked at them.

“I hate you.”

Azriel looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “No, you don’t.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the weapons rack, carefully selecting a gleaming blade. The sword felt sturdy in your hands, a symbol of power and strength. You usually preferred daggers, but you needed something more today. You turned to challenge Azriel, halting in your movements when it was Cassian who stood behind you.

“I’ll practice with you,” he said, not asking. You debated ramming the sword into his stupid face before you nodded begrudgingly. Fine. You supposed you couldn’t avoid him forever. You took up your defensive stance across the ring from Cassian, carefully watching his movements. You had trained under him for long enough to know his tells, unspoken warnings before he strikes.

The glint of silver through the sky was nearly imperceptible, but you met it with a quickness of your own. The blades clashed harshly, the sound making you feel a bit more alive. You loved the power fighting gave you, the raw energy that flew through your bones when you became a weapon. Cassian pulled back to strike again, aiming for your legs to make you unsteady. You jumped over his sword, enjoying his swear as your counter struck him in the arm.

The two of you battled fiercely, the unspoken anger and tension festering between you. You blocked and swung against Cassian as if he were a true enemy trying to kill you, not caring if you injured him in the process. In fact, some spilled blood may even make you feel better. You allowed your hurt to overtake you, pushing all rational through aside. You knew Azriel would yell at you for this later, for letting yourself lose control.

But you didn’t really care.

You swung strike after strike at Cassian, hardly more than a blur in the wind. You enjoyed the way your sword cut into his shin, causing him stumble backwards. You put a matching knick in his other one, watching him fall to his knees. A swift kick in the chest and you were hovering over him, your blade tucked tight against his neck as you pinned his arms with your legs. You watched a thin trickle of blood run down his neck, your sword unrelenting against his skin. You heard a faint yell of your name behind you, but you ignored it as you looked up to Cassian’s eyes.

You did not expect the fear and pain in them.

You shot off of him without a second thought, dropping your sword in horror as you stumbled back. Strong hands wrapped around your arms, pulling you towards the stairs to the House. You allowed yourself to be dragged away, gaze never leaving Cassian’s form on the ground.

***

“What the hell got into you?” Azriel seethed through his teeth, pacing in front of where you sat on your bed. You gave no answer, not even looking up from the cup of tea in your hands that had long gone cold. “You are allowed to feel whatever you need to feel about him and Nesta, but nearly killing him? Have you lost your mind?”

Perhaps you had. Maybe the shattered mating bond in your heart was poisoning your soul. Would you ever be able to handle seeing Cassian without feeling like you were being gutted? Azriel was still pacing around your room, stress radiating off of him in waves.

“Are you even listening to me?” The pacing ceased in front of you, two boots stopping in your line of vision. Azriel called your name, frustration palpable in his voice. While he may be your closest friend, Cassian remained his brother. And you had threatened his life.

“I don’t know what else to do for you. I’m going to Rhys to speak about this situation. We will see what he says.” The boots stormed out of your room, door slamming unceremoniously behind them. Rhys. You knew that should have instilled fear in you, or at least a general alarm. But you felt nothing. Maybe Rhys would demand you leave the Night Court, seek residence somewhere far away. Leave Azriel, and never see Cassian again.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

It was late in the night when Rhysand came to your room. He was alone, no brooding Azriel or gentle Feyre with him. Perhaps it would be easier to dismiss you from court with no one around.

Rhys walked slowly to your bed, eyes locked onto yours. His movements were unhurried, relaxed, as he pulled a chair over and sat next to you. A deep sigh fell from him while he scanned your face, reading what he could.

“Can you tell me what happened?” His voice was soft, but no anger lingered in it. You blinked at him, still lying in the same position you had been before he had entered.

“I tried to kill Cassian.”

You spoke bluntly. There was no point hiding it, you knew what you had done. Lost in your own despair or not, you had tried to end his life.

Rhys nodded, looking carefully over you again. “I do not think that’s quite what happened. There is more to this story, is there not? What sent you into that blind rage this morning?”

You blinked. You had been so drawn into yourself after coming back to your room you had almost forgotten. You slowly pushed yourself into a sitting position, turning your body to face Rhys. Your stare was level when you looked at him, resigned to what you were about to tell.

“Do you know what happens when a mating bond is rejected unknowingly?” Your voice was quiet, but the words seemed to ring throughout the room.

“I do not,” Rhys answered, equally as quiet.

You nodded. “It shatters the bond inside into a million tiny pieces. Sharp pieces. You go about your day being stabbed in the very soul, every movement a reminder of what was lost. It’s enough to drive one deep into insanity, if they allow it.”

“And is that what has happened with Cassian?” He kept his tone light, eyes still locked onto yours.

“Yes. I walked in on him and Nesta, and it broke. I broke.” Emotion clogged your throat, the cold fog you’ve been in all day dispersing. “I do not know what to do, Rhys.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body curling in on itself. Within a second he had moved to sitting next to you on the bed, wrapping his arms soothingly around you. Your head fell to his shoulder as you cried, letting out all the confusing feelings about what had happened. You had nearly killed Cassian, without even realizing it. What kind of a life could you live here without knowing if you were safe for him to be around?

***

CASSIANS POV

He paced back and forth outside her room, waiting for Rhys to come back out. He couldn’t stand the not-knowing, the endless wondering of what went so terribly wrong. He knew she had seen him with Nesta, and he knew nothing had felt right since that moment. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to train with him this morning, should have given her more space.

He didn’t want space. He had finally decided that this was ridiculous, that if anyone should talk to her it should be him, when Rhys quietly exited the room. The look on his face took all the air out of Cassian’s lungs.

Something was terribly wrong.

***

He had never felt more uncomfortable sitting in his friend’s office than he did now. Rhys slowly stirred the tea in front of him, studying Cassian thoroughly. His head cocked to the side as he took him in, and Cassian had never felt more vulnerable in his life.

“You have made a grave error,” Rhys finally said, lifting his cup to his lips. Cassian’s head spun. What could he have done? He assumed now that she must have had some feelings for him, if all of this spiraled from her seeing him and Nesta. That did make him feel like a fool, as he had pined after her for decades now. The brave General of the Night Court, too scared to make a move on his friend. When the eldest Archeron was put under his instruction, he shoved his feelings down and replaced them with the mutual attraction he had felt from her. He thought she was doing the same with Azriel. How could he have read everything so wrong?

“I know,” Cassian finally replied, voice thick.

“I do not think you do. I think you have realized that all this time the two of you desired each other, yes. But I do not think you yet realize how deep that pull goes.” Rhys spoke as casually as if they were speaking of a recent training session, waiting for the words to fully hit Cassian.

Pull. He had always felt drawn to her, different than any other female he’d been interested in. He assumed it was from the years of friendship they had, nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more. It couldn’t-

Cassian sucked in a deep breath, feeling the golden string inside of him. No. It was weak, as if the other side that should pull it taught was broken. No. No. His eyes flared wide with panic as he looked at Rhys, who only nodded.

“Mates.”

Cassian ran.

***

READER POV

Rhys had instructed you to take a long, relaxing bath after he left. He had sent his favorite teas and oils up to your room, threatening that he would send a healer to do it if you wouldn’t. You would have argued if you weren’t so drained.

You had just finished with your bath, standing before your closet as you selected something to wear, when the doors to your room burst open. You gave a small scream, turning to face the assailant. You were stunned into silence to see Cassian, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, not moving from the doorway. You debated shoving him out and locking the doors behind him, but the tears threw you off.

“Come in. Close the doors,” you instructed, voice stronger than you had expected. He did as you said, walking to stand in front of you. You remembered then that you were clad only in a bath towel, one hand all that was holding it up around you. You opened your mouth to tell him to let you change when he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Please,” he whispered, red-rimmed eyes looking up at you. “Please, forgive me.”

You stared down at him. At Cassian, on his knees in front of you, begging your forgiveness. While you wore only a towel. The fractured shards of the mating bond stirred inside you at the sight, the edges not quite as sharp as they were a minute prior.

“You do not need my forgiveness. You are allowed to be with who you wish, Cassian. Do not ruin your happiness for me.” You lied through your teeth. You would act as if it was no big deal, as if you didn’t feel insurmountable pain with every movement. A mating bond didn’t mean you would be endlessly happy together, and if he hadn’t felt it by now you certainly wouldn’t force him into it.

His hands reached out and grabbed ahold of your waist, holding onto you like you were his lifeline. “No. I do not wish to be with Nesta. I never did.” You shook your head.

“I will not be your second choice, Cassian. I will not let you come to me out of pity.” You spat out the last word, the broken mating bond turning deadly sharp again.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” he begged, fingers digging into your sides. “You have always been the only choice for me. I allowed male pride to get in the way, assuming you felt nothing for me. I…distracted myself with Nesta, yes. Anything between us was purely physical, a way to use each other to forget what we couldn’t have.” Tears flowed freely down his face now, a vulnerability you had never seen from him. “I didn’t feel the bond until today. I feel it, I feel it broken. I don’t want that. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Your head was spinning. The broken bond inside you began stirring once more, the edges of it smooth. Forming back into a solid string at his confession. Allowing you the choice, to accept Cassian or not.

“Get up,” you said hoarsely, pulling yourself out of his grip. He hauled himself up onto his feet, towering over you. You took another step back, hoping that increasing the distance would clear your head. “This-I don’t-Cassian, why hide it?”

He shook his head, looking down at you. “Why did you?”

Why did you? The fear of rejection? That nothing would ever be the same again? You hid your feelings deep down, only to end up in a possibly worse position due to it. Cassian had done the same. You had damned each other.

He took a step closer as you took another one back, a fierce determination now in his eyes. You moved back until you hit the desk behind you, Cassian following your body with his own.

He stood directly in front of you now, every breath causing his chest to brush against yours. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed out, hand ghosting over your hip. You opened your mouth to respond but no words came. You couldn’t think with him this close to you, with the mating bond reformed in your chest. Wearing a godsdamned towel.

“I want….” you trailed off, eyes studying his. He brought his head down closer to yours, breath ghosting over your lips with his proximity. “I want…” His hand rested fully on your hip now, drawing your body tight against his.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to your mouth. Oh, gods.

You let all rational thought leave you as you surged up and pressed your lips to his. Cassian’s other hand cupped your neck, angling you up to him. The kiss was full of all the words you couldn’t say, of all the feelings you didn’t know how to voice. You wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him closer against you.

“I love you,” he said against your lips, kissing you with each word. “I’ve loved you for far too long. I’ve allowed pain to come to you, when I could have had this the whole time.” He growled that last part, kisses trailing down your neck. You arched back against him, body on fire under his touch. At his confession.

“I-I love you,” you gasped out, Cassian all tongue and teeth over your bare skin. “I- Cass-Oh let me get rid of this damn towel.”

***

im sorry this took SO LONG to get out!!! i hope you guys enjoyed it, and the Azriel ending will be out soon as well <3.

[auset66]

What your inner child wants you to know (Never heard before specific messages). 🎯👼

1. The Orange Girl 🍊

I see that you are a very practical and hardworker person. Past few days or weeks I feel is you are having some problems related to health or things just not going your way. I see the mental fog you cant pin point but things are just going wrong. A lot of confusion. You are also doing everything practical you can to deal with this but the thing is it is the matter of emotions and heart. 🧊🧹

Now the inner child of you wants to be free and have free flowing emotions. Now I feel you are that person who has been very emotionally detached from yourself as long as you can even remember living. Like you go and work hard and make things right physically. You might be that A class person "cold hearted" who is always about work work work. So why have you been like this? Because there is this fear of expressing yourself. Now I don't know if it because of seeing poverty or because of your parents being so strict not letting you be freely yourself. It could be many things, but the main energy the main source I see here is fear. That is now ingrained in your mind since the very young age. But you are exhausted now and your physical reality your health your body is giving out these signs. Calling you out to let your emotions flow free be the wild animal and live life freely in peace in happiness. What you can start by doing is maybe writing, drawing or even just try crying. It might be very very out of comfort zone but you can give it a Try. One thing you can do is write your feelings down everyday or everynight in the dairy or note app anywhere without any filters. Do what "feels" right. Very foreign to you rigth? And offcourse if you can I highly highly recommend consulting a therapist, not a psychiatrist, a psychologist. A good therapist can really understand all your problems and will help you out through this. That's their work afterall. What you need is therapy not medicines. Goodluck ✨️❤️

2. The blue walker. 🌧

Okay, so the first feeling I feel is happiness. Yeah I know you will be like... what happiness I literally hit rock bottom this time. Yes you did. I see a relationship or something very long term even could be your long term work it all breaking off. You lost something for sure or even someone. Whatever it was you made the decision already and are feeling a lot of uncertainty now about the future and everything. But (yes don't forget this reading) in few months from now you will see you feeling happy that type of happy you never even thought you could feel. You changing drastically growing naturally feeling natural and almost at peace. I feel whatever situation you left there was a lot a lot of masking up, a lot of chaos, people especially, lot of you doing and gaslighting yourself to do feel things you never wanted to. So this thing that ended your inner child is almost happy and thanking you actually that you finally let it go. All you have to do right now is to be patient and breathe. Rest. Let it flow. Whatever you doing right now you are doing right. You will see the change in yourself that you never even thought could happen. The change in your life the reality. Then look back at your life you had when you were in this "cage" I should say. And one more thing that I never say in my reading but it was strong so I see a person a good person entering in your life yes a romantic intrest. With this person you won't have to beg for attention or love or even have to pretend that you are Not clingy or that you are very cool person. You can just let be and this person will do everything without you even asking. You will be happy and feel free. Good luck. I honestly see a very bright and happy future and days. ✨️❤️🍃

3. The Green Rain 🍃

So I see you are a person who actually is really in tuned with their emotions. A good person a nurturing person. Having compliments about your motherly nature and being a caring person is not something new. So I see there is this calling in you which wants to make things right. Make the world a happy place. You love people and you are a humanitarian person. The thing is this energy is put on the people around you. Relationships, friendships and you know just these people. Most if not all these people are very immature and wants you to keep on giving and giving without expecting anything in return. Now the problem is you, that you think you feel that it is your responsibility to mother them, to nurture them to bring Them back to path. You feel like "give me all your pain let me alchemise it for you, because I know how it feels how to deal with it". You put yourself in others shoes, but the problem is these people are not giving the results back. They are just keep on becoming more dependant on you keep on taking all your life force out of you. Why you still think it is right even when you are so emotionally Intelligent? It is because of your childhood trauma of having irresponsible parents, huge mother issues. You feel if you won't do it everything will fall out. Your worth is only when you "protect" these people. What you can do? You should know that there is a line. The truth why you are still keep on doing it? And the truth is the trauma response not the empathy in this case.

The inner child in you wants to put this energy into something that will give the results back. What do i mean? Give a try to NGO work or becoming a clinical psychologist or world health or even teaching anything everything you can think of that will actually give the results back. Not the big manipulative corporations but the actual things that can help people not them keep on falling back to same cycle with you repetiting the same. You want to give to the world and you want results back. If you invest money in charity you want them to be invested in what charity told it will be invested it and not in their bank accounts becoming black money.

And yes the person whoever it is you are romantically involved in yes even if it is just a situationship. leave.You and me we both know how sneaky and immature this person and won't ever grow and especially never with you. The happy family dream... this person is far from that. Don't waste your wisdom and energy on these energy Sucker people in your life and put them into those who actually needs it. That's what your inner child wants. To make things equal and right. The change in world won't happen if you keep on mothering a litreal adult with mommy issues. Goodluck. 🍃❤️✨️

[crimsonender]

Mikaila Orchard sucks at Paneling

I debated making this a video or not. But, I decided against it. If you guys are interested in me making videos about this sort of thing, let me know and perhaps it's something I could cover in the future.

So Mikaila Turkleson aka Mikaila Orchard has always made... questionable art. To me it seems like a weird amalgamation of Equestria Girls and Sophie Labelle's art. Anatomy bad character design bad etc etc. I don't however see a lot of people talk about her paneling.

Recently, Mikaila and presumably her partner, Lily Orchard started a new art endeavour. I assume to turn over a new leaf and bury the now-infamous Pokemadhouse. You can find it over at bhaalspawnfunnies. It appears as if the blog will focus around the player character of Baldur's Gate 1, Gorion's Ward, and their half sister, Imoen. This is the first entry.

Source

Where to start? My first impression is that this is very poorly drawn, and low effort even by Mikaila's standards. The speech bubbles are low contrast against the background. The ground/floor blurry blob looks extremely bad. As a fellow artist I get the distinct impression that Mikaila did not want to draw this piece.

Moreover, there's a huge issue with the panelling and pacing. Comics are really cool in that you can kind of use panelling and negative space to "time" jokes, leading the eye where you want it to go and using framing and other art tricks to make a punchline land a little better.

This "comic" has none of that. There is no pacing, there is no comedic timing. It's all bland and presented as a block. I took it upon myself to re-panel this piece, and I've made two versions: One, with Mikaila's art style and visuals, but with the panelling slightly adjusted to be more punchy and effective, the other I completely redrew, using the same joke.

Excuse the sloppiness. I'm not going to expend too much energy polishing and gilding this turd.

That being said, this is already a huge improvement. Even if Mikaila isn't at the technical level of a professional artist, this is very attainable with only a few more minutes of effort. The timing is punchier, the speech bubbles draw your eyes down the page, and even without colour coding, it's clear which of the characters is talking. This isn't exactly a hot take but in my opinion you shouldn't need colour coding on a comic page to denote who is speaking. It should be very obvious! Moreover, speech bubbles should be included in the composition, not added as an after thought.

I'm guessing the original comic took her less than an hour to make. I think I'm being generous here, honestly if this took her more than twenty minutes I would be concerned. Being generous though I gave myself one hour to make a version completely redrawn.

This was again, very quickly put together and of course is in no way perfect, but its to demonstrate what a little bit of thought can do to improve a comic page. I decided to change the pose of Gorion because making family guy references should be a a cardinal sin for artists, as well as make the characters a little more recognizable. "Aryana" is, notably, Lily's OC and bears little resemblance to the canon character of Gorion's Ward, but considering Baldurs Gate does allow character customization and dialogue choices, I decided to make their gender a little more ambiguous so players of any gender could see their version of Gorion's Ward in the comic, but kept the elf with long dark hair appearance from Mikaila's original. I also looked over the pic after I was all done and ready to upload and noticed some small flaws I could easily fix, and went back and did those things. You should always go over your pieces when you're finished them with fresh eyes before you submit them as a final piece.

Again, this certainly isn't perfect and I'd probably put more effort into a piece with characters I care about and a joke I actually find funny, but I hope this demonstrates that pacing and expression really are everything in comics.

[provide-milk]

Pt 2: Do You Know What You're Doing To Me?: Ford Pines x Reader

⚠️Minors do not interact with! NSFW!⚠️

Read Chapter 1 here! https://www.tumblr.com/provide-milk/764006882654437376/do-you-know-what-youre-doing-to-me?source=share

It was obvious. He was ignoring you

It seemed like he was avoiding the gift shop like the plague, mainly only coming out to use the kitchen for meals before secluding himself again in the lab. It hurt especially when you noticed he wouldn’t even make eye-contact with you or acknowledge your presence in the room. You would try to say your normal greetings but would instead be met with an awkward nod of the head. You wanted to believe that it had something to do with work, but you knew the truth. It was because of you. It wasn’t just you who noticed this behavior, but everyone else as well.

Mabel and Dipper would become quiet, even if they were in the middle of an argument if Ford walked into specifically the gift shop, whispering to each other what they think could possibly be bothering Ford so much in the room.

“Maybe there’s a ghost in the room that’s feeding off his energy!” Mabel exclaimed once while Dipper only sighed and responded with, “If there were ghosts in the room Ford would’ve gotten rid of them by now.”

Stanley was the only one who connected the dots.

“Kid…” He stepped towards you. “Why is Sixer acting weirder than normal?”

“I have no idea, Stanley.”

“I know you’re lying to me. He’s been acting different ever since you went down there with him. What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Stan glared at you, “You did something to make him act all strange.”

You winced at his words because you knew it was true. It was your fault. Things might’ve been normal if you left him alone.

“I must’ve done something… But I don’t know what it is…” You lied.

Stan narrowed his eyes before sighing, “Well I can’t stand how quiet it gets when old Poindexter shows up. So you guys gotta figure out how to make things normal again.”

There was a pause before Stan began to talk again, “We are running out of cereal… How about you and sixer take the kids to go get some. Will force you guys to have to stand each other for a little bit.”

“But Stan-”

“Nope. Deal with it.”

You threw your head back with a groan. You felt like Ford hated you right now, but there was a flutter of excitement deep inside you. You still found Ford attractive. Nothing changed about your feelings. If anything, the kiss riled you up even more.

Especially when you were alone in your room, replaying it in your mind over and over again. You’d shift your thighs together, trying to get some sort of relief without going all the way. But you couldn’t help yourself. You recalled that desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of his clothed erection pressing against you, the wet and wild way he kissed you like he was starving for you. It was too much to handle.

Well, it’s not like he would ever know about this. You threw off your pajama pants to the side and your fingers met their way under your panties. You pressed two fingers between your folds, gasping at the contact while your other hand went to palm at one of your breasts. You were ashamed at how wet you were already. Ashamed at the way you moaned when you imagined your fingers being Ford’s while you inserted two of them inside you. It was a bit of a stretch, but you felt that with Ford’s big fingers it would be a similar feeling. If anything it would be so much better. You saw the way he handled dice when he played Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about that.” You thought to yourself. But you still didn’t stop moving your fingers, almost cringing at the squelching noise they made. 

You closed your eyes, imagining Ford’s mouth on your clit while he spread you open with his fingers.

“Wow you’re really worked up over this. How long have you been imagining this?” You could imagine his familiar voice saying. 

“Ford.” You gasped, this time out loud.

You imagined him praising you between eating you out. Would he compliment the way your body squirmed desperately under his fingers? Would he call you a good girl if you came just by the way he worked you with his mouth? 

You threw your head back with one last moan of Ford’s name, cumming as you tried to overstimulate yourself with your fingers. Fuck, this felt sinful. Masturbating to a man who you made extremely uncomfortable. As you calmed down from your high, you cringed as you remembered Ford ignoring you. Oh yeah, that was the reality of things. Part of you regretted ever kissing him and another part felt on Cloud 9 just thinking about it. You felt torn, but there was one thing for certain, he kissed you back. He wanted you so desperately like you wanted him.

“Maybe he’s also getting off thinking about it. He probably doesn’t hate me… He… Maybe he wants to fuck me so bad he’s worried his self control will snap if he sticks around me.”

Bingo. That made the most sense to you and man did it fill you up with ego. The thought of a man like him wanting to fuck you too. Who wouldn’t be complimented by that? 

“But… it’ll probably never happen… I guess this is the closest I’ll ever get…” You muttered to yourself as you looked at your cum covered fingers. “Jeez, what has gotten into me?”

You recollected that night as Ford entered the gift shop, holding the keys to the car. Now the both of you weren’t looking at each other and the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

Ford cleared his throat, “You kids ready?” He said to the twins but you swear it could’ve been directed towards you too.

You honestly wanted to get into the back of the car with the twins but you were surprised that Ford opened the door to the passenger seat for you and beckoned you in. He still didn’t make any eye contact with you as you said thank you. He just responded with another nod of his head

“Man, he’s hot but he can be so rude.” You thought to yourself. 

Thank goodness for the twins because if it wasn’t for them you swore it would’ve been a quiet car ride. Mabel led a game of 20 questions in which of course Ford was the winner each time which made you smile to yourself.

“Ok we are just here for cereal.” Ford warned the twins as he got out of the car.

“Ok uncle Ford…” the kids said in unison but judging by both of the looks on their faces they didn’t believe a single bit of it.

As they went through the aisles, Ford looked for some healthier options for dinner. You decided that maybe now would be a good time to approach him.

“Ford…” You said softly. “Can we find a time to ta-“

Before you could even respond, Mabel came barreling down the aisle with two bags of the sugariest candy that could possibly be found in the whole market. 

“Ford! Y/n! Please can we get these! Please! They are by the same creator of Smile Dip!”

You looked over to see Dipper shaking his head and looking at you with eyes that said, “Please don’t do it.”

You could see Ford thinking it through before responding with a final, “Absolutely not.”

Mabel groaned and you frowned.

“I think you should let her get the candy.”

Dipper’s expression looked concerned,“I don’t think you should do that.”

Ford locked eyes with you for what felt like the first time in forever. 

“No, she doesn’t need the candy.”

“But she wants the candy. We should just get it for her.”

“Exactly!” Mabel exclaimed.

Ford crossed his arms, “She’ll be fine without it.”

“But she’ll be craving it.”

“Just because she’s craving it doesn’t mean she should have it.”

“Sometimes you should just give into your cravings.”

You could see Ford starting to get frustrated, “Not if they're not good for you or the other person.”

Oh.

“Well maybe the other person wants them to give into their cravings.”

The twins now looked at each other, confused.

“I told you, it’s not good for her. She’s too young. Sugar like that is bad for someone at that age.”

“I think she’s old enough to make decisions for herself.”

“That’s what you think!” Ford was starting to lose his composure.

“Well maybe Ford, you should just listen to me for once and see that I can make decisions too! Even if I am ‘younger.’”

“You’re not gonna convince me.” Ford’s tone was serious.

“Oh I think I will convince you actually. Cause you want the candy just as much as I do!”

Now the twins were starting to back up to put the candy back, their eyes still on whatever was happening in front of them.

“Are you getting this?” Dipper whispered.

“Not at all.” Mabel muttered.

“Ok, maybe I do want the candy- but- ugh- kids come on, let’s just get these items and get going.”

“Does that mean I’m getting the candy?” Mabel whispered to Dipper.

“Just… put it back.”

“Yeah… you’re right.”

The car ride back was silent, you could see that Ford was speeding slightly. His hands were gripping the steering wheel tight and the twins were giving each other glances. You stared out the side window, watching as you sped past the trees. You were annoyed too and avoided looking at Ford.

As Ford parked the car and the twins got out, you went to do the same. You went to open the door only for Ford to lock you in.

“Ford! What the he-”

“We’re gonna go for a ride and settle this.”

“What do you-” you replied, slightly stunned. 

“You know exactly what I mean.”

You didn’t know where Ford was taking you. You kept glancing over at him but he seemed to be deep in thought. You didn’t want to poke the bear any further.

He parked at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a lake. You couldn’t even take in the view with your emotions all over the place. You fiddled with your hands as Ford took a deep sigh.

“Look… I know you’ve been thinking about what happened that day, but I just want you to know that’ll never happen again and I want us to leave it in the past.”

“And forget it ever happened? Is that really what you expect?”

Ford paused, “Well that’s what I was hoping for, yes…”

“How am I supposed to do that! You kissed me back and it wasn’t just an ordinary kiss. It was long and-”

“Ok you can stop there.” Ford cut you off, with a tinge of pink blossoming over his cheeks. “Maybe I did… But I’d appreciate it if we can act like it never happened.”

“Like it never happened?” You exclaimed. “You started it!”

“Me? No, I believe you’re remembering things wrong.”

“You flirted with me!”

Ford’s brows furrowed, “I was not flirting. I was simply complimenting you back the way YOU were complimenting me.”

“But you knew I liked you, right?”

“I wasn’t certain…”

You crossed your arms, with a huff, turning your head towards the side window. 

Ford took a deep breath, “I suppose this is gonna be a lot harder to figure out than I expected.”

“You think?”

It was silent once again, both of you were pondering what to say next in this situation.

“I just don’t want to lose the friendship we had before this all happened and I’m sorry I got your hopes up. That was my mistake. I should’ve never done what I did and I wish there was a way I could make it up to you but there isn’t. I’d really appreciate it if we could move past this.”

Your eyes were now starting to well up with tears. You didn’t know why. It was just a stupid crush anyways is what you told yourself. You met his eyes and you could see his expression soften with guilt.

“Would you accept me if I was old enough?”

Ford sighed, “I’d rather not answer that question.”

“You would…” You grumbled. “And you know it.”

“Maybe I would… But that’s not something we should think about.” Ford said softly. “Dear… Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He reached towards the hand on your lap but you pushed it away.

“Don’t call me that.”

As it became quiet, Ford went to put the keys back in the ignition.

“You know I just think it’s funny how-”

Ford immediately took the keys out of the ignition, focusing on you again.

“- You want this too and the only person you are stopping is yourself. Geez, you think someone who was in a portal for 30 years, traveling through dimensions, would be a little more willing to live it up. But now suddenly you want to play by all the rules. Are you becoming boring now?”

You could tell that your words cut deep, as Ford didn’t respond, but you were too upset to apologize. 

Ford’s eyes narrowed at you, “You think I’m becoming ‘boring?’”

“Yes.”

“Well…” Ford hesitated for a moment. “Would someone who’s boring do this?”

Ford leaned over the center console, his eyes scanning you as he leaned in closer.

“You keep this between us. Promise me that.”

Your heart felt like it was ready to burst out of your chest.

“I promise.”

“Meaning that you keep this between us too.”

He brushed his hand against your cheek, causing your face to heat up immediately. He gazed into your eyes with a soft expression before gently meeting your lips. It was a tender kiss, but slowly became more and more sensual. Your arms wrapped around Ford’s neck, pulling him in even closer, receiving a grunt from him in response but he obliged. The finger that grazed your cheek was shaking slightly, possibly from nervousness. Nonetheless you both seemed unhurried to stop. You tugged at his bottom lip between your teeth and received a gasp from him. You smiled against his lips. He pulled away slowly, both of your eyes fluttering open. His face was flushed, as you both caught your breaths. 

“You’re a good kisser.” Ford complimented and you giggled in response. 

“You’re not too bad either.”

He smiled at you softly. “I’m surprised, as I haven’t kissed anyone in quite some time.”

“I guess you're just good with your mouth.”

Both of you went bright red at the sudden change in mood. He began to take your arms off of him gently.

“Oh I-shit- didn’t mean it in a dirty way. I just meant like-”

“I think it’s time we get back, don't you?” Ford said while he put the keys in the ignition, but you swore you could see him trying to hold back a laugh. 

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 3

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 3

Word Count: 3599

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Chapter 3 is now up! Let's enjoy these simple interactions before everything becomes fun complicated, shall we?

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06

Masterlist

|Chapter 2| | |Chapter 4|

You barely sleep all night. Every moan or noise coming from your father wakes you up. If he grunts in pain, you are by his side in a second. You keep checking to see if he’s feverish, cold, asleep or awake, struggling or sleeping soundly…

You are even more exhausted than yesterday.

When the morning nurse comes to check on him, you excuse yourself to get some breakfast and to go to the property to check on the animals or see if Ace needs any help. You gulp down a huge cup of coffee before leaving, though, hoping that it gives you enough energy to handle the rest of the day.

When you get home, Ace tells you he has everything under control and you should just go rest. You don’t rest, but you take a well-deserved shower, change clothes, have breakfast, drink another big cup of coffee and go back to the hospital. You have this day off work as well and then it’s the weekend so you can stay by your father’s side the whole day. 

As you reach the hospital, you have another coffee and this time you feel it kick in as exhaustion is pushed to the back of your mind and you feel a bit more ready to tackle the day. 

“Hey, dad. I’m back.” You say as you enter the room and sit by the chair. “How do you feel?”

He grins. “Much better. The nurse bathed me.”

Your smile quickly turns into a frown. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, bug. And then she gave me some more drugs because my back was throbbing like hell, and now I’m suuuuuper fine.”

You want to keep giving him an annoyed look, but you can’t help but chuckle at his silliness. “You’re incorrigible dad.”

He nods and grabs the remote, leaving it on some news channel. “Bug, you look like shit.”

The frown is back on your face in the blink of an eye. “Dad!”

“Sorry, but you do! Have you slept?” His gaze leaves the TV to settle on you again.

“I… I… a bit!” You stammer. “But I drank coffee, I’m fine!”

“Your eye bags say otherwise.” He shrugs. “Lean back, bug. Sleep a little bit. Or go home. I’m fine.”

You shake your head, cross your arms and stare at the uninteresting show with the highlights of some football game. “I’m not sleepy.”

“How many coffees have you had?” His voice is stern so you avoid his gaze.

“Some.”

“Bug…”

“Three! I’m fine!” Then you fish a book from your purse and open it, clearly putting an end to the conversation. “Let me read.”

Shanks doesn’t press and you actually manage to read a few chapters uninterrupted. For about an hour before you’re overcome by yawns. Looking at the time, you decide to try and take a quick nap before Law comes over to check on your father. Just a quick shut-eye.

You close your book and are about to get comfortable when the door opens and Law comes in, effectively chasing away all semblance of sleep left. 

“Law!” Your dad exclaims, clearly still under the happy effect of the drugs. The doctor nods at him as he greets both of you and enters the room. His eyes linger on you, a slight crinkle between them as he takes in your state. 

Your dad said you look like shit and he's not the most attentive person on earth so… you really must be looking terrible. Dreadful enough for the handsome doctor to notice. 

“How are you both feeling today?” Shanks grins and gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Then Law says your name and you shrug, forcing a tired smile to form on your lips and mumbling a weak ‘fine’. “Maybe you should be resting. You know your father is fine and he's got the best care team looking out for him.”

Sighing, your smile turns real. “I know. But I need to be here for him. I need to know everything that’s going on and if I'm home alone, I'll just go crazy!”

That sly smirk tugs at his lips and he nods slowly. “It's a control thing, right? You just can't let go.” Your chest constricts and your breath hitches, the way he speaks those words… they bring such promises attached to them, it makes you want to let go, to surrender. But to what? 

To him? 

He keeps holding your stare. A piercing amber gaze that seems to bore straight into your soul, leaving your secrets bare and open for him to find and read them. 

“Let's check you out, shall we, Mr. S.?”

And as he examines your father, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and splash some water on your flaming cheeks. 

-*-

By the time you get back, Law is finished and the nurses are bringing lunch for your dad. Your stomach growls as it smells food - even though it's hospital food - and you wonder if you should eat a sandwich from the machine or at the hospital bar. 

Law says goodbye to your dad and intercepts you at the door. “Have lunch with me.” It's not a request. It's basically a command, the way he carries his low voice, a slight slur to the words. You want to say yes immediately, but you're frightened - and intrigued - by the hold this man has over you, so you shake your head. 

“I shouldn't.” But you don't elaborate. Because why shouldn't you? You like speaking with Law and he's not your doctor. He's your father's doctor, so there’s nothing inappropriate about a simple lunch. 

And he immediately sees through your facade. 

“You shouldn't, but you want to.” Fuck. “We'll just grab a quick bite. You need to eat. I'm alone, you're alone. It's perfect.”

It really is. 

“Go with him, bug!” Your dad sing-songs from his bed as the nurse helps him eat. 

“Butt out, dad! And eat the food by yourself! You're perfectly capable of doing it with one arm! You've been doing that practically my whole life.”

Law purses his lips but you can see the amusement in his eyes before he raises his eyebrows. “Come with me.” He says and you let out a big sigh. 

“Fine. Let me get my purse.” Entering the room, you glare at Shanks who keeps being fed by the nurse and tell him you won't be long. As you cross the mirror peeking at you from inside the bathroom, you frown and tell Law you'll meet him in five by the hospital entrance. Then you try your best to look presentable by combing your hair and fixing your clothes. It will have to do. 

-*-

“So you entered university two years earlier. You're a prodigy.” A smirk leaves your lips as you nibble your food. Conversation has been flowing smoothly between you both and you've learned that he lived with his uncles since he was ten until he entered university, because his parents passed - he didn't share how and you didn't press. He just added that information when you shared you were a child of divorce and were reconnecting with your father. 

You've been sharing professional and educational experiences and turns out Kaya was right. The man is a freaking genius. And you realise that that fact just turns his sexy points up by one thousand. You're so doomed. 

As he's about to answer you, his phone rings. He excuses himself and takes a look, then a frown and a deep scowl etch upon his face but he quickly dismisses it and sets the phone aside. Just for it to start ringing again. 

He sighs. “Sorry, I can't mute it because of the hospital and the clinic, but this is a bothersome call that I would rather not take.” Another sigh as the caller tries one more time. He excuses himself but doesn't get up to answer it. “I'm busy.” It's all he says, but you can sense him tense up, the mask of perfect control he usually holds crumbling slightly as he clenches his jaw with stress and tension. “Yes, I RSVP'd, didn’t I?” His throat bobs up and down and you try to focus on something else because you don't want to pry. “I don't know yet. Bye.

Law locks the phone with a grunt and sighs. “Sorry about that. It was my uncle.” You smile and nod. Could it have been Doflamingo? You noticed the way he talked about his uncle Rosinante - Cora - with a fondness in his words and kindness in his eyes, but he didn't elaborate on his relationship with the eldest uncle so it strikes you as somewhat strained. “Where were we?” He continues where you left off and you keep talking and getting acquainted. 

-*-

Lunch went by in the blink of an eye and, once again, you realise how simple and nice it is to speak with Law. He's very profound in many subjects, intelligent, clever, witty and with an odd sense of humour. The only thing you barely got a read on, was his emotions. He seems to guard the way he feels about things behind a well-crafted mask of control and assertion. And you have yet to take a peek behind it. 

Though his uncle calling him certainly got a rise out of him and they barely exchanged three sentences. 

Law walks you to the hospital and stops. He had said earlier that he was returning to the clinic for some appointments and then had surgery to perform before dinnertime. He promised to visit your dad before heading home, to see how he was doing. 

You start to feel exhaustion settling into your bones again, so you sip your coffee while nodding. 

“You can't fight exhaustion with coffee for too long. Get some rest. Your father’s fine. This is an order. A doctor's order.” He adds with a slight smirk. 

“I told you I don't follow all manner of instructions, Law.” He hums low and your knees tremble.

“I can see that.” He uses your name sternly and your eyes glint with amusement and desire. “We're still getting to know each other, but I'm sure you'll soon find out that following my instructions can be quite… rewarding.”

You can feel your pulse quicken as his amber gaze pierces, once again, so deep that it almost reaches your soul. 

“I'll think about it.” You say meekly and the semblance of a smirk he had before transforms into a deep grin. 

“Good.” He drags the word and you're left craving for more. Good girl, that's all you wanted to hear from his lips. He said it once. It was meant as a joke but the sound still echoes in your brain. Fuck. 

You're so doomed. 

-*-

When the sun begins to set on the horizon, you try to fight sleep so you can be awake for Law's last check-up before he leaves. But he said he was going to be in surgery so maybe the surgery ran late because he should've appeared by now. 

Your dad is engrossed in another football match and you can't focus on the words of your book anymore. You try to browse through your socials but easily lose interest. Games don't help either, so you decide to just lay your weary head down for a moment. 

You cross your arms on your father's bed and lay your head on them, your back stretching a bit from your sitting position on the chair but you have been bent for a while so it's a welcome stretch. 

Closing your eyes, you sigh softly. You don't even notice when sleep claims you. 

-*-

Law removes his contaminated scrubs and washes his hands. His surgery took much longer than planned and he hated that. He should be used to it by now, surgeries very rarely take the time they were meant to. And he always adjusts his plans according to that. But this one ran three hours late. 

And he promised you he'd check on your dad before he left for the day. 

And as much as he likes being in control, he hates to break promises. 

So he rushed his after-surgery routine, hoping you'd still be there by your father's side, waiting for him. 

You have an inexplicable hold on him. He can, at the same time, understand you as if you were an open book and yet be left wanting to learn more about who you are. He suspects there are parts of yourself still hidden from your own knowledge. 

And Law thrives on knowledge so he's very eager to learn all there is to know about you.

By the time he reaches your father's room, the lights are already dim and dinner has been served. His own stomach grumbles to remind him he should eat something too, but he pushes his hunger to the back of his mind as he pushes the doors to the room open. 

He's about to start talking when Shanks shushes him with a finger to his lips and a whispered shh. His chest constricts as he sets his eyes on you. You're in a godawful position that is not doing your back any good, but you look adorable in your sleep. 

There's a strong feeling within him that urges him to protect and care for you and he doesn't really know how he can feel so strongly about someone he practically just met. 

Truth be told, you have spent some time together thanks to your father's appointments and exams, and you have claimed permanent residence in his brain, complete with zip code, mailbox, address, you name it! Still… 

He sighs as he sets down your father's patient chart. “That can't be comfortable. How long has she been in this position?” He whispers as he approaches. 

Shanks shrugs and pats your head softly. “Hours. She has been surviving on coffee for more than a day. She just blacked out.”

“Yeah, she didn't look her best earlier and I did tell her to rest. But her back is going to kill her tomorrow.” Law sighs once more as he removes your purse, book and jacket from the corner chair and presses the switch to recline it. Then he sets the pillow near the head and approaches you. 

This is the tricky part, how to move you without waking you up? 

Easily, it seems. You must've really been exhausted because he picks you up bridal style and lays you on the chair, setting you in the most comfortable way before using his doctor's coat to cover you up and you barely stir. 

He doesn't resist tucking your hair away from your face before turning to your father - who's watching him with slight amusement. 

“Well done, Law. She didn't even stir. Those surgeons' hands are very steady.”

Law chuckles as he begins his routine examination. “They have to be, Mr. S. People's lives depend on it. And your daughter is just a heavy sleeper.”

“Perhaps… but I've noticed the extra care.” He winks before a frown takes over his face. “She could really use the extra care…”

Law doesn't really want to press, though he's curious. He's pretty sure your father said that because of your cheating ex. And though he's itching to know what kind of special asshole is capable of cheating on you, he lets it slide, as he adjusts the drugs in the IV and checks if the incision in Shanks’ back is recovering nicely. 

Law and Shanks make small talk during the rest of the examination and Law can't resist tugging the coat a bit more snugly around you and making sure you're comfortable before heading towards the door. 

Shanks’ eyes are closed when he speaks, but the older man can't quite hide the grin that overcomes his face. “You know, having a doctor as a son-in-law is something I wouldn't mind.”

Law snickers as he says goodnight and closes the door. That's a thought that will wander through his mind tonight. 

-*-

You wake up to the sound of chatter in the room. The morning nurse is fussing over your father, giggling like a schoolgirl as Shanks cracks jokes filled with innuendo. You blink and take a while to adjust to your surroundings because you're quite sure you'd fallen asleep near your father's bed, in the uncomfortable chair. 

A familiar soothing scent overwhelms you and you smile, feeling relaxed and at peace. It's a musky scent with hints of pine and… disinfectant? 

Looking down you immediately find the source of the scent: it's Law's coat. The corner of your lips tugs upwards as you smile and remove the item from over you. He must've found you asleep when he came to see your father yesterday. Was he also the one who moved you? Couldn't have been Shanks. 

“Hey, sunshine! You're up.” Your father greets cheerily as the nurse tugs the sheets around his torso and gives him a sultry wave before leaving. 

“Dad. Stop flirting with the nurses.” You say sternly as you get up, stretch and fold the coat neatly before settling it back down on the chair. Then you saunter towards Shanks and give him a peck on the forehead. “How do you feel? What did Law say yesterday?”

“I don't flirt with the nurses, bug, they flirt with me. I'm irresistible.”

“Insufferable is the word you're looking for.” You correct him with a smirk. 

“Law said everything was recovering nicely and I might even go home earlier than expected.” You sigh in relief. You know there's still a fair amount of chance for infections or other problems to arise, but it seems your dad is on his way to recovery. At least he's in good spirits and that always helps. “You know what Law also did?”

The blush in your cheeks is faint but you still turn your face away. “I can put two and two together, dad.” You mumble as you fidget with your phone. 

Shanks smirks. “So can I, bug.” You stare at him deadpan as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Well, you seem to be feeling fine, so I'm heading home to check on the property.”

“Ace's got it, bug!”

“And to take a shower and change. Need anything?” You add as he shakes his head. So, gathering your stuff, you promise to come back later and repeat the routine from the day before. Except this time you pack a meagre lunch so you don't have to go out to eat. Law said he would visit your father but he had a very busy day at the clinic so he wasn't quite sure when he would appear. 

As you return to your father's side, you discover that Law had already come by - much to your chagrin. You weren't quite sure why you felt disappointed not seeing him for the whole day, so you brushed that thought aside as you made small talk with Shanks. 

-*-

The weekend ended pretty soon and Law said your father would be released by Monday at the end of the day, depending on how he was feeling by then. He had already been able to get up on his own, shower and use the bathroom without any help. His back was still swollen, as expected, but otherwise he was recovering fully. You had been sleeping at home since you really didn't see the need to be by his side all the time and you were fully rested. 

On Monday, almost at dinnertime, Law released your father from the hospital. He advised caution, rest, no heavy lifting or driving, and reminded him to take his pills. 

The follow-up consultation - back at the clinic instead of the hospital - was set for next week and you were already feeling a pang of longing from not seeing Law every day, like you've now grown accustomed to. 

“If you have any doubts, worries, or just want to talk about something,” Law's eyes glance at yours, “just call me. If I don't pick up immediately it is because I'm in surgery, but even then, if it's urgent just text, I usually have a nurse monitoring any urgent texts.”

“We would never disturb your surgery hours because of something small.” You mutter as his gaze rests on you again. 

“Fair enough. But if it's serious, just do that. Okay?” You nod and your dad thanks him. He walks you both to the hospital entrance and before you leave to get the car, he touches your arm. It's a very light touch, barely two fingers, but it manages to send a jolt of electricity up your arm, making you gasp as you turn to him, lips slightly parted at the intensity you just experienced. “Don't be a stranger.” He murmurs and you smile. 

“Well, remember I have the best coffee in town - second only to Sanji's - whenever you feel like drinking something other than hospital swill.” You smirk and he grins. 

“I might just take you up on that.”

“Please, do.” You notice how his pupils dilate and his lips purse as you say ‘please’. It nearly has the same effect on him as him saying ‘good girl’ to you. The tension between both of you is palpable. 

If only you were brave enough to glimpse inside the door you closed for yourself. No men. No relationships. No heartache. As simple as that. 

But it’s all so tempting.

“Bug, the car?”

“Right!” You answer, a bit dazed by the intensity of the situation. “See you soon, Law!” You exclaim before leaving to get the car so you and your father can both head home.

|Chapter 4|