#finally and about time I did updated this
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“Do you like it?”
Silence hung in the air for a few seconds as you watched your stern-faced fiancé scrutinise what had just been presented to him.
Nanami had just returned from a long day of work, his creased leather briefcase barely having hit the hardwood of the foyer before you hurried down the steps to greet him. On any normal day, a quick kiss alongside an update on how dinner was coming along was the routine that Kento had grown happily accustomed to as his welcome home. But with a whimsical litte partner like you to keep him on his toes, he was hardly surprised when your first greeting to him was an abrupt flash of your stomach—a glistening emerald gem, hanging from a sleek gold bar that pierced right through your navel, swung gently against your skin.
“When did you…?” His toneless yet gentle voice finally broke through the pin-drop silence.
“Today. I wanted to surprise you with it.” You answered hesitantly, unsure of whether he liked the new addition or not. It had been a rather impulsive decision made by you that afternoon, when nothing at home was satiating the midday boredom, to get a new piercing. Something bold. Something to keep you excited and occupied from missing your bronze Adonis. It was between a belly button piercing or a nose piercing, but you went with the former after telling yourself that if it wasn’t to your taste, as least you could always hide it.
There was another bout of silence, and it took every bone and nerve in your body to refrain from the urge to shake an opinionated answer out of him.
“Darling…? Do you not like it-”
“Does it hurt?” The broad blonde cocked his head ever-so-slightly to the side, as if he was secretly trying to get a better angle of the novelty.
You shrugged, admittedly a little lost for words at his intense focus. “I’m a little sore, but as long as I don’t tug at it, it seems to be okay.” He was clearly still in deep thought as he gave a quick nod to your reply.
Another second of silence passed and that was the last that your patience could handle, “Ken, you’re freaking me out a little. Do you like it or not?” Your hand gripped loosely at the cotton hem of your shirt, ready to let it drop back down over your abdomen to hide the piercing away until the cool pads of Nanami’s fingers reached out to hold the curve of your waist.
“You look stunning, sweetheart. I love it.” One corner of his lips curled up into a soft smile as his eyes at last broke away from the dangling jewellery to meet your relieved gaze. “How do you keep getting prettier?” His soft lips found yours in time to keep the answer a mystery.
Nanami adored the unexpected surprise more than he could express, though. He could hardly understand his own unspoken thrill. Something about seeing the figure of his beau decorated in jewels that almost compared to your beauty was enough to make him appreciate how lucky he was to be your fiancé (for the fifth time that week).
end note: honestly, i was gonna add smut to this because ;3 but decided to just keep it short since it’s my first post. might make a part 2 tho if this gets much love.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami x reader#kento nanami#nanami smut#jjk fluff#jjk smut
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DREAMS lando norris pt.1 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.
pt.2 wordcount: 1378
Flo's voice filled the room as she scrolled through her phone, her excitement palpable.
"I'm telling you, this is perfect for you," Flo said, thrusting her phone in your direction.
You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the email she was showing you. "A job at Quadrant? Flo, I’m studying fashion design, not... whatever that is."
Flo looked up, her brows furrowed as if you’d just said something ridiculous. "What do you mean? It can be. Look at Tommy Hilfiger. Or Lewis Hamilton—his fashion work, hosting the Met Gala, working with big brands. F1’s bigger than you think, and it’s not just about cars."
"Haha, Flo, what are you talking about?" you said, shaking your head at the idea. "F1 is not really the place I want to be for my fashion stuff."
You paused, realizing you hadn’t really thought about it like that before. You’d never paid much attention to Formula 1, aside from the occasional updates Flo gave you about Lando. It had been years since you'd spent any real time with him. As kids, you'd catch fleeting glimpses of each other whenever he wasn’t off karting or, later, racing. But you knew Lewis Hamilton. He had enormous influence. He’d collaborated with brands you admired and pushed boundaries in the fashion world.
"Maybe not," Flo said, leaning forward with a knowing grin. "But there could be great opportunities"
"And trust me, Quadrant desperately needs someone like you. You’ve seen their merch, right? It’s..." She continued.
"Basic?" you offered, arching an eyebrow, Flo had already showed you the designs before in an attempt for you to improve them.
"Exactly! They’re looking for someone to revamp their designs. You’re always talking about how things could be better.''
You sipped your coffee, considering her words. It wasn’t your dream job, but the thought of improving a brand and the opportunities that came with it was oddly tempting.
"Fine," you said, setting your mug down. "I’ll think about it."
Flo grinned like she'd won the lottery. "You’ll kill it. Trust me."
-
The buzz around Quadrant’s new merch started slowly but picked up pace when a few photos of Lando wearing your designs at the paddock made their way online. Suddenly, it wasn’t just fans buying hoodies and tees, people in the fashion and sports world were taking notice, and journalists started to make comparisons you weren’t sure anyone expected.
“Is Lando Norris the next Lewis Hamilton?” one article headline read.
Another went deeper: “From driver to brand icon: How Lando Norris and Quadrant are reshaping athlete influence.”
It had been surreal to watch the shift, you had worked hard. Max had been supportive from the start, seeing the vision. Keegan had actually become a reliable creative partner, having similar styles and taste. Lando had been the same as when you were kids, you had barely seen him, too busy racing, handling his CEO duties from afar.
And now, after months of hard work, it was all leading to something bigger.
-
The first time at the paddock was overwhelming. The heat, the constant movement, the blur of media, mechanics, and drivers navigating their way through the chaos—it was a world you still didn’t quite belong to. Even though it did bid a uncanny resemblance to the chaos of the fashion world, which intrigued you.
You watched as the photographers snapped pictures of Lando and the team in their latest Quadrant pieces. The collection had taken months to finalize, and the response had been overwhelming—more press than usual, more attention, more recognition.
“You’re the one behind all this, aren’t you?”
You turned at the voice, surprised to find yourself face to face with Lewis Hamilton. He was dressed effortlessly, a silk LV shirt under an unbuttoned suit vest, sunglasses perched on his nose.
You blinked. “I—uh. Sorry?”
Lewis smiled knowingly. “The Quadrant collection. It’s you.”
You hesitated. “I mean… it’s a team effort.”
“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But I know talent when I see it.”
Her stomach flipped. Compliments were one thing, but this—coming from him—felt different.
“I’ve been following your work,” Lewis continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got a fresh perspective. Louis Vuitton is partnering with F1. They want to bring in new talent, I tipped you.” Your breath caught. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
You stared at him, waiting for the catch, but there wasn’t one. He was just… offering this. Just like that.
“I—” You glanced over at the Quadrant shoot, where Lando was laughing with the guys, completely unaware of the conversation happening across the paddock. “Thank you so much.”
Lewis smiled. “You’ll be hearing from them soon. Excited to work together.”
And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the paddock like he hadn’t just cracked your entire world open in a two-minute conversation. Flo had turned to be right after all.
-
Louis Vuitton had officially announced their F1 partnership, and with it, their campaign featuring a select group of drivers. The second she saw Lando’s name on the list, you knew there was no avoiding it. You hadn’t expected it, even though it made sense after Quadrant’s succes and having already worked together. Still, you hadn’t expected to be working with him again, especially not like this. He hadn't shown too much emotion when you left Quadrant, but you knew he wasn't happy about it.
Now, standing in the Louis Vuitton studio, flipping through the fitting schedule, you could feel his glare when the door opened before looking up.
"From Quadrant to Louis V," Lando mused, his voice light but edged with something unreadable. "Look at us."
You finally glanced up. He walked around inspecting the room, sunglasses perched on his head, fingers brushing against the fabric of a tailored jacket. His expression was casual, like he wasn’t really thinking about what he’d just said. Like it was just an observation.
You gave a small shrug. "Who would've thought."
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward the fitting area. "Thought you could get rid of me, huh?"
“Alright, first look,” you said, flipping through your notes without looking up.
Lando sighed dramatically. “Do I really need to try all of these on?”
You shot him a look. “Unless you suddenly developed a sense of style overnight, yes.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, grabbing the set from the rack.
You turned you back as he changed, focusing on adjusting the pins on one of the outfits. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in a fitting with Lando, but this was different. The Louis Vuitton studio was quieter than Quadrant HQ, the lighting softer, there was no Max, no Keegan, no distractions.
“Okay,” Lando said, stepping forward. “What do you think?”
You turned—and fuck.
The suit fit him unfairly well. The sharp tailoring, the way the fabric moved with him—it was annoyingly perfect. Which meant you had done a great job.
You forced yourself to be professional, stepping closer to fix his collar. “Hold still.”
Lando stayed quiet as you smoothed the lapels, fingers brushing against his chest. The silence felt thick, aware of how close you were.
“Looks good,” you said, voice even. “But the pants need adjusting.”
You knelt down, reaching for the hem.
You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted the fabric, fingers skimming his ankle, making sure the length was right. You refused to look up, but you could hear him breathe in, then exhale slowly.
“Comfortable down there?” he asked, voice casual, but you could hear his smirk.
You rolled your eyes, unable for him to see. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Lando huffed out a laugh, but when you did glance up—just for a second—his jaw was tight. Like he was the one struggling.
You stood, smoothing out the jacket. “Alright,” you said, stepping back, regaining distance. “I think we’re done here.”
Lando tilted his head. “You sure? Thought you liked bossing me around now.”
You smirked. “If I really wanted to boss you around, Lando, you’d know it.”
He blinked, caught off guard for just a second.
Then he grinned. “Noted.”
WN: new storyyyy wooooop, literally already had this fashion job at quadrant in my drafts and then the LV partnership was announced i had to implement that and post it
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#ln4 x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x female reader#lando norris fluff#jealous lando norris#lando#norris#lando norris one shot#lando norris x friend#ln4 fic#f1#formula 1#formula one#ln4#ln4 x you#ln4 x y/n
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Collars Of Duty 5
MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader Chapter 4 - (Chapter 6) Finally reunited again, Simon attacked you as soon as you met. Will this be the breaking point for you or can you work through it and help you both. ~ 8,8k words Content (might contain spoilers): biting, blood, attack, hybrid AU, mentions of torture, medical inaccuracies
A.N: I'm sorry it took so long. I'm pretty slow with updates. I hope you enjoy it. Although I am currently at the I hate it stage but I decided that I should consider it as good enough as it is. Enjoy. Also I suck at spelling so feel free to point out mistakes.
It’s absurd how the seconds stretch until they feel like minutes. The pain is excruciating but you can’t look away from Simon’s face. Your arm feels like it’s on fire, the stinging and burning sensation racing through it until you think you can’t bear it anymore and yet you have the mind to think about it. Instead of instinctively slapping at Simon or kicking him you stare. Is it normal to think this rationally in a moment like this?
It’s like your frozen in time. Neither of you moving, his vicious fangs embedded in your arm. His face is still scrunched up in a threatening display but you catch the flickering hint of fear glinting in his eyes. It makes you want to comfort him and you think you might be stupid, wanting to comfort a hybrid that’s hurting you.
Steps slowly draw closer and when you look to the side you catch sight of Nate’s lower body. He’s carefully, stealthily coming closer. In his hand that’s resting at his side he holds a syringe, thumb ready to empty the liquid into Simon.
It’s most likely filled with a sedative and instinctively you throw your free arm out and over Simon’s neck protectively. He flinches at the sudden movement , driving his teeth deeper into your arm and you wince at the way the movement rips at your flesh. A new wave of pain crashes through you and you can’t hold back a slight groan. Nate steadily creeps closer and Simon’s eyes widen with growing awareness at what’s about to happen.
“No.” You try to command Nate but it comes out like more of a pained wheeze. Still he stops sedative at the ready.
Simon’s eyebrows furrow his eyes flickering between yours, confused. He does not yield his hold on your arm and you breathe deeply through the pain. You wish it would just stop hurting.
“I need to sedate him, he’s dangerous.” Nate says resolutely.
“No!” You manage a bit louder. It might be only a feeling that makes you stop him but if Simon gets sedated right now it will only make things worse. Sure it will save you from this moment but you won’t be able to process it and work through it. It will be just like Phillip. Well maybe not exactly like it since Simon’s isn’t mauling you right now. He’s only nibbling on you. You almost make yourself crack up into hysterical giggles with that thought. His teeth hurt just as much as Phillips did. They’re just as sharp. But they’re not moving.
Forcefully removing Simon from you won’t truly help, you’re sure of it. Simon will freak when he wakes back up and you’ll be left with this memory of him. Attacking you, biting you. Even though his fangs are still sunken into your flesh the old scar in your shoulder throbs and you feel like laughing. Maybe you’re slowly going crazy from the pain. It seems to be everywhere.
Your head hurts where it cracked against the floor but you concentrate on Simon’s shallow breath. The way he holds your arm in his teeth. He’s not actively biting deeper and you consciously relax your body under him. Maybe it’s abnormal the way you assess the situation, thinking it through instead of fighting the large hybrid. But you can’t help but be thankful for it.
“It’s okay, Simon.” You say gently and watch his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His growling stutters and maybe you imagine it but a hint of a whine builds up in his throat. He’s aware of you. You’re not sure why he hasn’t let go yet, but you’re determined to get this under control. With your current pain level you can still talk and think so maybe there’s a way for you to do this right, to do right by him.
“I know. I should have known better than to rush towards you. I don’t like that either. Forgive me for scaring you.” You continue on just following your instinct. Simon’s face betrays his surprise.
He huffs through his nose and looks at you almost pleadingly. What he’s pleading for, you don’t know. The aggression is gone but the fear in his eyes hurts almost as much as his bite.
“I know. I know. You didn’t mean it.” You’re not even sure what you’re saying but you don’t stop talking to him. His saliva pools on your skin, hot and sticky, or maybe it’s just your blood.
When his breaths get quicker and you decide to be more daring. Speaking helps but it’s not enough. The sight of the large hybrid evidently distressed breaks your heart. He’s growing more distressed by the second.
You need to try something. Anything. Slowly you move the arm that you protectively threw around his neck until you can lower your hand onto the back of his head. Burying your fingers in his hair carefully. It’s just a gentle brush of your fingers through his hair but a sudden wail tears from his chest like you hit him.
Once again it sinks his teeth deeper into your arm and you grit your own teeth against the pain. This has to work. You don’t know what to do if it doesn’t work and the pain is slowly fraying your nerves.
“I know. Shhh. It’s okay. You didn’t mean to, did you? I just spooked you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I won’t let them sedate you. I’m here now, Simon. Like you asked. Like you wanted.”
Once again you card your fingers through his hair, only a whisper of a touch until you reach the base of his left ear. He howls like he’s being ripped apart. Your eyes fill with tears. Maybe you should stop. Are you actually hurting him? But he shouldn’t have a wound on the back of his head. Your touch shouldn’t hurt him.
His eyes are wide and frightful but his jaw slackened lightly. Not hurting him then. Good, you have to continue.
“You can let go, Simon. You’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. You’re okay. I won’t even look if you don’t want me to.” The things you say barely make sense but you can’t stop, not when the hold he has on your arm loosens some more until his teeth are merely resting against your bloody skin. You’re not delusional enough to think he won’t bite down again at the sign of any threat so you keep holding still under him.
The base of his ear is unbelievable soft under your fingers as you rub it and he pants harshly against your arm an entire war happening behind his eyes. Another broken whine raises in his throat and you smile up at him. It’s wobbly and not really all that convincing but a smile non the less.
“No one will look at you. I’ll make sure you’re safe. We’re okay. I promise. It’s okay. You can let go. Nothing will happen.”
You swallow down the pain and nerves addressing Nate. “Right? You won’t sedate him. It’s okay. He’s okay.”
You cannot see Nate's face from your position but he shuffles a few steps back, clearing his throat. “Yeah uhm. Sure?”
Simon’s eyes search yours and ever so slowly he widens his jaw, his wet and warm tongue laving over the bite mark once, his breath cool against the wet skin when he whimpers. Some of the tightness in your chest dissipates as the pain lessens just the tiniest bit.
“There you go. You’re doing so well, Simon. You can relax. Will you let me sit up?”
He takes in your expression, scanning your face for something and you patiently wait. Slowly he pulls his head back until your arm is safe from his teeth. Then he closes his mouth warily. You match his pace and as he slowly retreats from over you, you push yourself up, wincing when you put your weight on your arm.
Finally you’re sitting in front of him, cross legged and he watches you for a long moment. He’s subtly shaking and you attempt to smile at him again but all it does it make the tears spill over. Still you push through even if you can’t see his expression properly through the blur. Smiling almost hurts.
“Well done, Simon.”
The sight or the words make something snap and he lunges forward. You violently flinch, throwing your arms up again freezing when you suddenly have a lap full of malinois hybrid. His big arms are wrapped tightly around your middle and his face is pressed into your stomach while he half lays on you, his shaking growing stronger.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He’s shivering so hard your entire body is rocking with it. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Your arms are still raised while he falls apart against you and you lower them slowly until you touch him. One hand presses on his back, which makes him in turn jump and bury his face harder against your stomach. The other hand finds his head again, petting him. He speaks through pained whimpers. “Forgive me. Sorry.”
You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor, your arm bleeding freely, soaking his shirt and your pants with your blood but at some point he stops shaking, stops apologizing through whimpers and simply holds onto you quietly. You don’t stop petting him through it all.
Nate is already looking at you when you look up at him. His eyes are wide, stressed and his tongue doesn’t stop tasting the air of the room. Your tears have run dry and your mouth curves up into a real smile.
“You’re insane.” He softly remarks into the quiet of the room but it doesn’t sound like an insult.
You blink at him slowly, protectively tightening your arms around Simon, drawing him in closer. He stiffens at that and then relaxes again. He’s awake, just not speaking anymore.
“Can you bring me something for my wounds?” You ask Nate and he looks at you long and hard in disapproval.
“You should go see a medical professional about it.” He advises and Simon curls more tightly around you his arms pressing him closer until his hold is almost painful. A second later he starts to extract himself from you, like he realizes what he just did but you hold him tight and he goes lax in your lap again.
“I’ll take care of the worst myself. I’ll see someone about it later.”
Nate shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave you alone with him not when…”
“I’m fine. You’ll be quick, right?” You interrupt gently. He nods but seems unconvinced. “Go Nate, or do you want me to lose more blood?” You ask with an almost teasing tone and he shakes his head again but begins moving.
“You’re insane.” He repeats and then he’s gone.
Your back starts cramping from sitting in your position for so long. Tenderly you stoke Simon’s hair. “Hey, big guy. Do you think we can move to the wall? Sitting like this is a little straining.”
He loosens his grip and it’s entirely ridiculous how you two scoot over the floor without changing the position you’re in until your back rests against the wall. You sigh with relief, relaxing some and your back stops screaming. That only making the uncomfortable pulsing of the wound in your arm more prominent.
Thank god that you have all the vaccines for dog hybrid bites. Courtesy of working with them and having been bitten not too long ago. Simon raises his head and you hold your breath. Somehow you expected him to cry but there’s no sign of it on his face. It’s dry and expressionless. He looks at your face, then your arm and slowly sits back up, examining it.
That’s how Nate finds you. He’s wary as he steps closer eying Simon like he’ll attack him any second and extends his hand with the little first aid kit towards you. You take it. Before you go to open it, Simon’s hand covers yours and you recoil like he bit you again, looking at him in shock.
His face is unreadable. “Let me?” He says it like a question and you nod mutely, watching him as his big hands open the kit and he gets started on cleaning the wounds.
Your heart jumps at every touch even though his movements are slow and steady. His big hands are surprisingly gentle as he takes care of the bite mark he put on you with practiced ease. Looking to Nate in bewilderment you catch him with his sight locked on Simon attentively. His tongue darts out every now and then but decidedly less hectic than before.
When he catches your stare he presses his lips together and you notice he’s still holding the syringe. Quietly you look at his face and then pointedly at the sedative and shake your head. He sighs audibly and Simon tenses again, like he’s bracing for something, even though he seems concentrated on wrapping your wounds.
You relax some more when Nate caps the needle. Simon raises your arm inspecting the stark white wrapping and the lets go, scooting back a bit and out of your personal space. Once again you’re locked into a staring match. Nate silently watches you two.
Soon enough the silence gets unbearable, uncomfortable and finally you need to say something, anything or you’ll implode.
“Hi.”
Simon’s expression settles back into a frown. Not in a talking mood it seems. Somehow that makes you grin. It brings you back to when he first woke up in the hospital.
“I just arrived. I wanted to see you as soon as possible and Nate was kind enough to take me to you.”
You give Nate a blinding smile and the snake hybrid shakes his head again. “You’re either insane or a saint.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment. Anyway, Simon, are you ready to move into our rooms with me? We have two rooms next to each other.” You offer and Nate takes half a step forward. Simon tracks the other hybrids movements out of the corners of his eyes.
“Now hold on. That’s nice and all but not happening. At least not today. I have to report the biting. If this was just about your relationship I wouldn’t object but we can’t move Simon into a populated wing if we don’t know for sure he won’t be a danger to everyone.”
You can’t exactly argue with that, even if you’d like to. It makes sense and you just arrived. Maybe you missed something about Simon’s behavior that could be a threat. Even if you don’t think he is. He is pretty much exactly as you remember him. Although you have to admit to yourself that there’s some lingering fear at being in Simon’s presence, that wasn’t there before. You push it back down.
His attack was maybe a bit extreme but once again not the actions of a savage. If your judgement isn’t completely off, then it was simply an instinctive reaction to feeling threatened.
“Alright, I understand. Then…” You look around the barely furnished room. It reminds you a lot of ‘the cell’ at Rehybrid except it has an actual bed, a desk and chair and a door that leads to what you’d assume is a bathroom. Although the bare furniture is bolted into place as you notice.
“Simon.” You address the hybrid and his ears twitch in your direction. “Would you like me to stay the night here or go back to my room and come back tomorrow?”
You can see Nate open his mouth and level him with a flat stare which makes him promptly snap it shut. Simon cocks his head at you.
“He has a medical examination really early tomorrow, it’s more convenient if you…” Nate starts after all but Simon’s sudden and vicious growl makes him shut up.
You jerk around to look at the malinois hybrid. His expression is all threat again and aimed at Nate, his ears drawn back and fear clogs your throat. Maybe he is more aggressive than you thought. Maybe you’re a stupid softy and shouldn’t trust your judgement too much.
But except for the earlier attack he was relatively docile up to now. And his aggression isn’t aimed at you which makes it easier to judge with a level head.
Something isn’t right. He wouldn’t react like that for no reason.
“As his handler, I’d like to be present for that.” You state and Simon’s head whips back around to you his growl dying down his ears perking back up.
Nate sighs and drags his hands over his face. “Alright.” He glances between you and Simon and his face relaxes. “It’s getting late and I just want to go to bed. I’m getting irritated at all this because I’m so tired so stay or go back to your room but I need to sleep soon or I’ll pass out on you two or get mad and I don’t want that.”
You search his face and suddenly it hits you how obviously exhausted Nate looks. With everything that happened you didn’t pay any close attention to him. Sheepishly you look down and then at Simon again. It’s his call to make so you await his answer.
You two lock eyes for what feels like an eternity and finally you get to hear his rumbled reply.
“Stay.”
You nod your heart suddenly speeding up again but it’s not fear this time and you address Nate. “I’m staying here. Don’t worry about my stuff, I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Just go to bed Nate. I’ll be fine.”
The snake hybrid clearly has more on his mind but he doesn’t voice any of it, studying Simon and you who are still on the ground. A big yawn makes him finally leave for good but not before giving you his number so you can call in case anything happens.
The door clicks shut behind him and you’re alone with Simon.
Well, that was some reunion. You sigh deeply and let your body relax. Now that it’s just you two some of your nervousness returns and you have to remind yourself that Simon apologized for attacking you earlier. He also bandaged your wounds for you and had a breakdown in your lap so the chances of him attacking you to prove something are slim to none.
You’re glad you stopped Nate from sedating him. But even if everything went well in the end it doesn’t mean that your wounds aren’t rubbed raw. Now you try to hold all the ugly feelings that try to resurface down with rationality.
“Will you tell me what the growling was for when Nate mentioned tomorrow? What happened? Why did I get requested?” You find yourself asking. Skirting around the topic isn’t your thing and you need to know if you want a chance to do your job well.
Simon clears his throat and finally you can look him over calmly and actually take note of how his wounds look. The cuts on his face are mostly healed, leaving thin pink scars behind some still have a bit of crusting. You can’t exactly see the other wounds right now but his fingers aren’t in a cast anymore. Now they’re only taped together in a way that prevents him from using them too much and separately from each other.
“I trust you.” Simon says and that simple sentence slams into you like a sledgehammer. It makes you swallow against your tight throat and you blink a few times.
“What happened?” You ask again after collecting yourself and he huffs.
“Nothing.”
You raise one eyebrow unimpressed. “Oh really. Nothing has your hackles raised like that?”
He bares his teeth in frustration, gritting them and the sight has you leaning away from him slightly. He notices and lowers his lips looking at the floor.
“Nothing that warrants a reaction like mine.” He continues and you hum.
When he doesn’t go on further you gently encourage: “Listen Simon. I’m here for you. I came here to help you to be on your team. But if you want me to be able to do that you have to explain things to me so I know how to protect you best.”
He barks an unamused harsh laugh at that and you watch him as he stops and crumbles into himself, quieting down. “I should not need protection. I’m a soldier.”
Slowly, carefully you inch closer to his seated form. “I’m not talking about your strength. You’ve been MIA for months Simon. Whatever happened, you’re allowed to be affected by it. You’re allowed to be hurt and need help. It doesn’t make you weak or any less of a soldier to need help getting back on your feet. But I won’t know how to do that if you don’t speak to me.”
He looks back up and something in his face softens. He nervously licks his lips and begins forcing out words. “I was cuffed for the transport. As soon as I was here they wanted to do a medical exam. I was overwhelmed. I refused. They sedated me. But I was awake, I guess it only sedated my body not my mind. I was unable to move as they poked and prodded me, examined me. No one talked to me.” He shudders.
His explanation is short but it chokes you up and makes you clench your fist in anger at the same time. These fools. Fucking idiots and assholes. You start shaking and Simon looks at you concerned, notices your unshed tears and shakes his head.
“I don’t want your pity.” He almost snarls and if you weren’t so angry you’d flinch but your rage overshadows any other emotion, fills you to your fingertips until you don’t know where to put it anymore.
“I’m not pitying you.” You bite out and then breathe deeply to calm down. No need to raise your voice at him. “I’m angry.”
Simon jerks back, away from you and you quickly go on. “Angry at them! Your reaction is completely justified. I.... fuck I’m so mad I want to punch someone.”
That gets an actual laugh out of Simon and it startles you right out of your angry state. Genuine amusement dances in his light brown eyes and you can’t help but smile back. He has a nice laugh. It’s rough and very him.
“Do you even know how to throw a proper punch?” He teases and you lift your chin in mock offense.
“Of course I do.” You say your head held high. Simon chuckles warmly at that and you can’t help but grin at him. Some of the earlier heaviness finally lifting from the room.
A comfortable quiet settles over you two after that. The amusement lingers for a moment.
“I’m coming with you tomorrow. Just give me a sign if you’re uncomfortable. I’ll make sure they take it slow. I won’t let them touch you without your permission.” You say. It’s a promise.
“I didn’t mean to bite you.” Another hidden apology.
You look down at your neatly wrapped arm. It makes sense for him to be able to do basic first aid but you’re still surprised at how well and quick he did it. You shrug, your hand gently stroking over the bandages.
“I know that now. It’s not like it’s the first time either. I’ve had worse.”
A small growl builds in his chest but this time you manage to keep the fear back. It’s just a reaction to what you said. Not you. “What do you mean you’ve had worse?”
Instinctively your hand comes up to your shoulder pressing against the permanently scarred skin. Somehow that’s the scar you always go for as if it’s the only one Phillip left on you.
“Nothing important. You’re just not the first hybrid who bit me.” You try to keep it vague and you can see his eyes narrow but he doesn’t push. You’re not sure whether you’re relieved or disappointed.
Pointedly you look around the room taking in the little furniture. A small smirk settles on your lips as you look at Simon. “There is only one bed.”
Immediately a louder growl starts up in his chest and your smile vanishes. Okay that is definitely aimed at you and fear sinks it’s claws into your neck. “Hey, hey. I was only teasing. I will sleep on the floor. Don’t worry.”
He swallows down the threatening noise and looks to the side almost like he’s embarrassed by his own reaction. “No. You can have the bed.”
You shake your head and scoff. “Yeah right. I’ll take the bed when you’re the one still healing.”
His eyebrows furrow and you realize that that seems to be the expression he wears most of the time. He licks his lips his ears flickering up and down as if he doesn’t know what to express.
“We could share.” He says it so self assured you wouldn’t think he’s nervous about it if it wasn’t for his ears and his earlier growl.
“Only if you’re comfortable.” Your voice leaves no room for arguments.
He’s quiet for a long time mulling it over, frowning at the bed, and you almost tell him that you’ll sleep on the floor either way. When you open your mouth he grits out: “Don’t touch me.”
His tone is aggressive and not even a real answer but you simply nod. “I won’t. We can build a barrier out of the blanket, that way I can’t accidentally knock into you in the night. But only if you want that. I have no problem with sleeping on the floor.”
He doesn’t answer but he gets up and tugs the blanket off the bed. Silently he waits next to it and you guess that’s your sign to get in and sleep next to the wall. You’re not sure how you feel about the prospect of being caged between Simon’s large form and the wall but that’s probably the reason why Simon won’t slip in first.
You take off your shoes and crawl onto the mattress. The bed is obviously not meant for two so you press as close to the wall as you can. Simon puts one knee on the bed and then proceeds to spread the blanket over you in a surprisingly gentle gesture. Then he piles the rest next to you so it acts as a barrier.
For a moment he just looks at his work, then he grumbles something to himself, turns down the lights and gets in next to you. You note that he doesn’t turn the light off completely but that’s just fine by you. You prefer being able to see him and his intentions.
The quiet is tense but you don’t know what to say anymore so you just lay there staring at the ceiling and wait for sleep to claim you. It doesn’t help that your inner clock thinks it’s early evening.
Finally you can’t keep laying still like that and turn onto your side, craning your neck to look at Simon’s profile over the blanket barrier he build. His eyes are closed but you’re pretty sure he’s not asleep. His chest raises and falls too quickly for that and you watch the rhythm for a moment until it registers that he gave you the blanket.
“I’m not cold. You can have the blanket.” You whisper in case you’re wrong and he is asleep after all.
His eyes open and he keeps them on the ceiling. “Don’t need it. I run hot.”
You nod to yourself and tuck your knees in close so you don’t accidentally brush against him. Head relaxing back against the pillow so you’re left staring at the blanket. It takes forever but finally you do succumb to sleep.
You wake in the middle of the night with a gasp, sitting upright. You’re glad the light is on so you can see everything and your hand finds your painfully throbbing shoulder. It seems to have it’s own heartbeat and it’s beating in tandem with the new bite wound on your arm.
Guilty you look down at Simon’s stretched out form to find his golden eyes already fixed on you. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
He shakes his head and continues to watch as you press your hand to your chest and do your breathing exercise to calm back down. You don’t like that he sees you like this. Not when he signed for you to be his handler. You’re supposed to be his rock and have authority. Can he even take you serious when he gets to see you struggle like this?
Nothing on his face gives away what he thinks as you slowly find back to your own body. You check the barrier between you two and find it intact. You can’t help the sigh of relief that you let out at that and you catch the slightest movement of Simon’s ears.
Happy to escape his scrutinizing gaze you lay back down and once again you’re left staring at the blankets. How you wish you could reach out and touch him, reassure yourself and him but he asked you not to so you tuck your hands in close to your chest and close your eyes.
Movement of the fabric has you opening them again. You turn your head and see Simon peek over the barrier. He offers no comment but carefully arranges the blanket back over your body. In your panicked state you had thrown it off you. Again without so much as brushing his fingers against you. Once he’s satisfied that you’re covered properly he lays back down and you find yourself snuggling more into the blanket, pressing just the tiniest bit closer to the barrier. If you concentrate enough you can imagine that his warmth seeps through the thick fabric and settles around you.
You wake in the morning to a strange pressure against your front. It’s comforting but confusing because the blanket barrier shouldn’t be this unyielding. Your open eyes and don’t see anything besides the pristine white of the cover for a moment until your realize that you can see Simon’s shoulder rise and fall mere centimeters from you.
Now you’re wide awake, your breath hitching. The blanket is still firmly in place between the two of you and no part of you touches but Simon is curled up on his side too, pressed against the blanket just like you and although it separates you two you can feel his chest rising and falling against it. You can feel his legs against yours through it and for a second you think about getting up and putting as much distance between you and his sleeping form as possible.
A moment later you almost laugh at yourself while heat spreads through your cheeks. You crane your neck trying to see if Simon’s head peeks over the top of the barrier. It does.
Your eyes lock and you exhale on a rush. He’s awake.
Neither of you move and you can hear you blood rushing in your ears at his proximity. You’re sure if it weren’t for the thick cover between you you’d die of a heart attack. How his closeness can be stifling and comforting at once is a mystery to you but you don’t move either. Maybe it’s because you’re frozen in fear.
But the beat of your heart doesn’t spell out fear.
“Good morning.” You whisper. Instead of an answer the pressure against your front increases for a moment, then he rolls away from you and sits up, rubbing his palms over his tired face.
You find yourself doing the same and checking the time. It’s ridiculous how early you woke up but Simon’s already on his feet, tension in the harsh lines of his body and stretches for a moment his ears pressing flat against his head at his big yawn and you can’t help but smile. Definitely cute despite his size.
He catches your expression and seems confused. Instead of offering an explanation you fondly shake your head and get up too. Both of you silently wash up in the bathroom. It’s comfortable and you find only the faintest traces of yesterdays fear left in you. Somehow Simon manages to put you at ease, despite his attack.
It’s not long before Nate appears. He opens the door slowly and peeks inside. Once he sees you the relief is visible on his face and he steps in fully.
“Thank god, I was worried I’d find you in shreds.”
The way he says it so earnestly makes you giggle and Simon’s almost always present frown deepens. “It’s time for Simon to go to the doctor’s.”
Simon’s entire demeanor changes and he backs up against a corner. His lips peel back and Nate’s expression turns sad.
He opens the door wider and two more men step in. Apparently they also work at the center. One holds a muzzle the other one a collar and a leash and Nate once again has a sedative in hand. Your eyes widen and you step in front of Simon, very aware of him snarling behind you. Putting yourself between him and the men is probably stupid especially since you can’t see what he’ll do next but you can’t have them adding to his stress.
You raise your hands placatingly. “Gentlemen, please. This is hardly necessary.”
One of the guys scoffs. “Tell that to him. He’s not allowed out of this room without leash and muzzle but he won’t put it on. There is no other way. I sure as hell won’t suffer another attack from him. And we don’t have the time for discussions.”
Now it’s your turn to frown almost scowling at them. “Surely you can spare a few more minutes if it’s for the sake of one of the hybrids who’s supposed to heal here?” You say, some venom seeping into your tone.
You’re aware that you’re new here and hardly endearing yourself to your presumed co-workers but you’re here for Simon. Not for them. They roll their eyes but stay back and you mull over your options.
“Leave the leash and muzzle here and out. All of you.” You say in a commanding voice that you’re pretty sure you have no right to wield. Yet they listen and you catch Nate taste the air and nod at you a slight smile on his lips.
When the door closes you turn on your heels and meet Simon’s angry expression.
“You don’t want the leash and muzzle?” You question, voice soft once again.
He shakes his head his canines still exposed and you remember how they ripped at your flesh. The phantom pain shoots through your entire body this time and you square your shoulders. It’s time to be his handler. You don’t have the luxury of wallowing in self pity.
“I’m afraid there is no way around it at this point in time.” He straightens up further and his growl redoubles.
You raise your hands. “Simon listen to me.” He’s staring through you, he’s probably not really listening, trapped somewhere in his racing thoughts so you raise your voice slightly. “Simon!”
He starts, his ears coming forward for a moment before he goes back to his aggressive stance.
“I do not want them to hurt you. But I need you to let the doctor check up on you. I promise I will not let anything bad happen. I promise I will protect you. But if you want anything to go differently than before you’ll have to take the muzzle and leash.” You explain. You hate that there is no other way. You just arrived, you have no idea how necessary the check up is and you can’t refuse on his behalf when you don’t know whether he’s healed enough.
He considers you, hatred in his eyes and you try not to let it burn you. It’s such a heavy contrast to the way he looked at you earlier when he peeked at your over the cover. It’s such a difference to when you’re alone in a safe little bubble you two get to design by yourselves.
You exhale heavily and take the leash and muzzle in hand before turning back to Simon. He eyes the two devices like they’re meant to torture him.
You hold up the muzzle, showing it to him and he physically steps back. Instead of going after him, you open the muzzle at the back. “Look. This is how you get it open. It’s designed so you can take it off yourself. No one can force you to keep it on. It’s meant as a helpful device to keep you from hurting others in a stressful moment because often the biting happens on instinct and hybrids regret it afterwards.”
His eyes flicker down to your bandaged arm and then fixate back on the muzzle.
“I won’t even need to touch you to put it on. You can do it yourself.” You continue in the softest voice you can muster. Then you show him the leash. He doesn’t retreat further but the fire in his eyes burns even brighter.
You show him how the collar can be opened and closed. “You can also put this on yourself. I will not let anyone else hold the leash.”
It’s kind of pointless, you know he doesn’t want you to hold the leash just as much as he doesn’t want the men in front of the door to hold it. But at least you’ll hold it softly.
You hold the leather leash up. “I will not yank on it or choke you with it. I will only hold it so we’re connected and I can keep you from getting hurt. I will lead you with a gentle hand and never towards harm.”
Silence falls over the room and you realize that he stopped growling during your explanation. You said what you could, now it is up to him. You can feel your pulse thrum in your neck a silent plea. Please trust me. Let me lead you. Let me show you it can be different than what you experienced so far.
You offer it all to him in your outstretched hands and wait. There is nothing else you can do besides ask him to comply. Sure you’re the authority but only if Simon wants you to be. You hope he remembers that he signed the handler-hybrid papers first. You hope he remembers that he said he trusts you.
His legs carry him towards you and your breath hitches. There’s sweat on his forehead and you stay still as a statue while he takes the muzzle. Carefully he opens and closes the latch a few times, making sure it’s easy to operate. Then he slips it over his face locks and unlocks it at least five more times before he fastens it. His chest heaves with harsh pants as he takes the leash from your hands next and you lower them slowly so you don’t spook him.
Once again he tests the buckle and then fastens the collar around his neck. You notice that he left plenty of room which is technically not how he’s supposed to wear it but you decide not to address it.
His eyes find you but they’re slightly unfocused and you speak to him again. “Well done, Simon. Thank you.”
He jerks back at your words his eyes wide and his panting stops. You’re not sure whether it’s the praise or the fact you expressed gratitude but you leave it at that.
Slowly you hold out your hand, waiting for him to place the leash in your hold instead of taking it up yourself. It looks comically thin in his large palm as he grabs the end and clenches his fist around it. Patiently you wait giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile.
Tensing up even more he places the end in your hand and plants his feet as if he expects you to jerk him forward. Loosely you curl your own fist around the leather and let your arm rest relaxed against your side. The grin you gift him with feels silly with how bright it is but you’re incredibly proud of the big hybrid.
“Follow me.” You softly command testing how he’ll react to you expecting him to follow your words without making it a request. To your surprise he easily falls into step, walking towards the door and waits patiently when you open it.
You stay in front of him and address the men in the corridor who stare at the both of you like you suddenly grew multiple heads. “Do not touch him and stay in front of us, leading the way.”
Nate recovers first, grinning widely and in his slightly reptilian face it looks almost evil. “I knew it.” He hisses delighted and turns to lead the way, the two other guys following behind not even arguing with you at this point.
Simon walks behind you and you turn to him without halting your footsteps. “Come here. Next to me.”
His long legs eat the distance and he walks along beside you, the leash hanging loosely between you. Simon’s face is set into a frown and there’s still sweat beading at his hairline but his breathing is at a frequency that doesn’t worry you and you hum in satisfaction. The ear closest to you swivels towards the sound for a second.
It doesn’t take long until you’re in the doctors office and it makes you feel slightly ridiculous that you have two grown men in addition to Nate accompany you. The doctor gapes at you and Simon, eyes comically wide while looking between you two and the way the large hybrid follows your lead.
She stands up gives you a curt hello and snaps on latex gloves. “Let’s get this over with.”
You frown at her tone and as soon as she stands up Simon starts growling, like a ferocious beast, backing up a bit. The doctor sighs and nods at the men who accompanied you. “Sedate him.”
You straighten up. “Don’t!” You command. The men look between you and the doctor unsure who to listen to. Narrowing you eyes you take a small step in front of Simon. “There is no need to sedate him.”
She clicks her tongue at you and rests her weight on one leg, pushing out her hip. “You’re his new handler? You arrived when? Yesterday? I know how to treat my patients now step aside and let us do our damn job.”
Her tone almost makes you want to cower, not one for confrontation, but you remind yourself why you’re here. “I do not mean to disrespect but I brought him here of his own free will without any need for sedation so I’d really appreciate it if we could work together to make sure my charge is comfortable during the examination.”
She almost scoffs at you and takes a step closer, Simon flinches and you hold out your hand, stopping her from taking another step. Way to go. It’s your first day and you’re already pissing of personnel you’re supposed to work with. But you cannot let it slide, not with the way Simon reacts. After what he told you, you’re certain that there is a reason for it.
“You’re the one who isn’t working with me. So step aside and let me do my job. A job you know nothing about.” Her tone is sharp, biting and it makes your hand itch to slap the arrogance out of her.
You square your shoulders and gather all the leftover confidence you can find in your body. “No. Not when my charge is uncomfortable. Are there any other doctors at this center or do we have to find one who doesn’t work here?” You calmly answer and her mouth drops open.
Something flashes in her eyes and before she can respond Nate steps forward placatingly lifting his hands. “Hey now. It’s a perfectly reasonable and normal request. Yes there are other doctors. We’ll ask for someone else.”
The Doctor grits her teeth in displeasure but doesn’t argue against Nate and you raise your brows. Interesting. Nate seems to be in a position of authority. Breed wise he’d be supposed to be a companion hybrid. But he evidently works here and holds a higher position than some humans.
His hand finds your shoulder and squeezes briefly. Then he escorts the doctor out of the room, telling you he’ll be back soon with someone else.
The door closes behind the two of them and you’re left with Simon and the other two guys. You exhale heavily, your shoulders dropping and turn to Simon. His shirt is soaked with sweat on his chest but now that the doctor left he seems to slowly come back to himself.
Honey coloured eyes regard you as you ask him if he’s okay. The nod is slow but enough to reassure you and you don’t have to wait for long until the door opens again and Nate steps in with a middle-aged man. His hair is black and brushed back, some stray grays at his temples but his face is so kind it immediately puts you at ease.
“Welcome. You must be his new handler. I’m glad you could make it. Please take a seat. I’m Doctor Graham.”
You stay on your feet but give him a friendly smile and a nod. Mentally you pat your back for standing your ground because Simon’s staying quiet, seemingly not as stressed by him. “Yes. I’m happy I can be here. What’s the plan for today's exam?”
At that word Simon shifts on his feet. You wish you could put a reassuring hand on his shoulder but he doesn’t want you to touch him, so you don’t.
“I need to check his wounds for inflammation and their status of healing.”
You nod and the doctor gestures at the examination table. You look at Simon and try to seem as reassuring as possible. “Go on, sit down.”
It surprises you anew when he listens and parks himself on the table. The doctor blinks owlishly at the scene and something akin to gratification spreads in your chest. Look at this, look at what a well behaved hybrid he is and look how wrong you all judged him, you think grimly.
“Please take your shirt off, Simon.” The doc asks and to your surprise Simon looks at you his head slightly tilted.
The weight of his questioning gaze almost makes you crumble to your knees. It’s like he’s testing you. You think back to the hospital. How distressed showing skin made him and you look at Nate and the other two men in the room.
“Doctor Graham, I apologize for the trouble but could you be so kind as to send our audience away. I do not think it is necessary to let them witness the examination.”
The Doc startles in surprise looks around the room and then does as you say. Finally it’s just the three of you and you nod at Simon. “Can you take it off?”
He swallows audibly and slowly his hands go to the hem of his shirt. The hesitation makes you nervous and you wish you could prevent him from having to do this. Before he begins undressing you turn to the Doctor again.
“I’m sorry but is there another way we can do this? I’d like to keep him from harm. Is there a way for this to work without us watching him?” You pray the doctor won’t brush you off. Hopefully your continuous questions and wishes don’t annoy him.
He smiles, crow feet growing more prominent around his eyes and he thinks. Simon’s frozen with his hands on his shirt. It doesn’t look like you’re making an enemy here so you continue.
“If the wounds have been okay up to now maybe he could check them following your instructions without us watching and he can tell you what you need to know?”
Both the Doctor and Simon’s gaze weigh on you and you wish you could shrivel up and disappear but you promised Simon to protect him and you intend to follow through with it.
Doctor Graham looks over a file, scanning the information. You hold your breath and then the older man nods slowly. “Yes, that could work. But he’d have to speak to me for that.”
“Simon?”
His nostrils flare and he nods. “Yes.”
Once again the doctors blanks, then he seems to remember where he is and turns around with his chair. You step closer to Simon and let go of the leash. “I’ll be right here. Just do as the Doc says. No one will look at you.” You quietly instruct well aware that the Doctor can hear you anyway in the dead silent room.
You turn around and the sound of fabric rustling makes you clench your fist. You watch the doctor look at a chart. “Do you have any wounds that feel tender or hot?”
“No.”
He nods and writes something down then he proceeds to lead Simon through the process of checking every wound even instructing him how to check his ribs and fingers. Somehow they manage with Simon’s one word answers and you find yourself slowly relaxing.
Doctor Graham is professional but warm and it makes you feel like crying. It’s absurd how kindness makes your eyes wet but the female doctors harshness didn’t. Once Simon is dressed again you turn back around and give him an approving nod.
Doctor Graham looks up. “I need to rewrap your fingers, Simon.” He calmly states. You expect Simon to grow agitated but he simply nods, holding out his fingers.
The process makes him flinch whenever the doctor touches him but it barely takes a minute until it’s done. Expectantly you hold out the hand for Simon’s leash again and he drops the end into your palm so you can grab it again. You wait for the Doctors dismissal, instead he kindly smiles at you and points at the examination table.
“Your turn. Let me take a look at your arm.”
Bewildered you look at your neatly wrapped arm, having completely forgotten about it. Something about that makes you laugh quietly and you let go of Simon’s leash again. The big hybrid parks himself against a wall and watches as the Doctor unwraps your arm.
The bite looks angry, the wounds deceptively small but the skin and flesh are black and blue, bruised all over and tender to the touch. You can feel Simon’s eyes on the wound like a physical touch while the practiced hands of the doctor check the wound, put some ointment on it and rewrap it.
It’s honestly not surprising when he tells you that your bones probably took some damage too, although not enough to break and that you should take it easy on that arm for a while.
Finally you’re all done and Simon comes up to you, handing you the leash. Before you go, you address the Doctor once more. “Thank you so much for being so accommodating, doctor. And I’m sorry if I caused any trouble by asking for you.” You don’t know how to explain further without going on a tangent but his lips quirk up and he nods.
“It’s not a problem. We’re here to help. And please, just call me Graham without the doctor. We’re coworkers now.” His hand is warm as it engulfs yours when you say goodbye.
Nate is still waiting outside and before you know it you’re back in Simon’s little room. You let go of the leash and beam up at him. “You did so well Simon. I’m really proud of you.”
Before you can add anything he’s already ripped the muzzle off his head and unbuckled the collar letting it all drop to the floor. He takes a few steps back and shudders. You watch him concerned but he seems to calm down soon enough and once Nate deems it safe he turns to you.
“The handler management wants to talk to you. I reported the attack and initially they wanted to keep him locked up here but I took the liberties of telling them about this morning too and they want to talk to you before making their decision. We can’t keep him here forever and expect him to make any progress.”
#the sewer writes#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#gn!reader#hybrid au#malinois hybrid simon#dog!hybrid simon#hybrid!simon x handler!reader#hybrid x handler
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Getting drunk with Grayson 🎀
Imagine, getting drunk with Sheriff Grayson 👮🏽♀️❤️
Warning: Slight nsfw, Reader is a total hornbag, Grayson is smoking hot
🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫
You and Grayson have been working hard all week on a case you've been working at. There were reports of thieves that lurked around at night, and went into people's homes. They suspect that the thief was actually from Piltover, and the council did not like that.
You and Grayson walked to the councilors to discuss the matter. They all looked at Grayson to hear her updates on the case. Councilor Medarda spoke, "Well, Sheriff, is there any news about this case?" She asked Grayson, looking down on her. Councilor Hoskel scoffed. "Those filthy undercity brats. How hard is it to find these guys?! Maybe you're just not doing your job well!" He accused, you hated these meetings, you hated going to the councils, but you know it's your duty. Grayson clears her throat, "Who ever these thieves are, aren't just common knuckleheads you find in the under city. No. They're alot more calculated, and the equiptment they used to break in one of the houses was only euqiptment found here. The guards on the bridge did not report anyone cross the night the incident occured."
The councilors scoffed at Grayson, and you held her pinky, to sooth her, while looking down on the floor. Councilor Salo scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Well? Do something about it, that's your job, double the guards if you have to!—" He exclaims. Miss Medarda eyes him, and she sighs, "I want this case dealt with. Immedietly. I don't care what you need to do, but people in Piltover are getting worried by the minute. We cannot have that, understand?" She asks. You and Grayson just look to the floor, "Yes, we understand." And with that, you both left.
When you got out, you look visibly pissed, and rightfully so. The whole week, you and Grayson worked hard. You rarely went home anymore, you both just sleeped on the couch in her office and only went home one at a time to get supplies, like food, toothpaste, instant coffee, you literally worked day an night.
This went on for a couple more days, until finally, you catch them, and out them in Stillwater. When that finally happened, you and Grayson took a few days off, rightfully so, and only did your paperwork at home.
"God, we're finally home, but we're still working" You joke, as you hand Grayson her coffee. She smiled softly at your joke, before turning to face her computer screen again. "I know darling, and I'm sorry. Once we finish this work tonight, how about you and me get a drink?" She offers. You were playfully taken aback, dramatically looking shocked, as you out a hond on your chest, and one faceing Grayson. "Ah! Officer~ Are you asking me out on a date?" You ask, playfully, and she takes your hand to kiss it. She chuckles at you, "Why yes, my dove. Will you go out with me?" ahe asks, as she pulls you onto her lap, so she can kiss your neck. You giggle at eachother, and you pull back to kiss her face.
Work still wasn't easy, even at home, but after a couple hours, you finally finished it all. "Yes! I'm all done for the week, baby look!" You call Grayson, and proudly show her your finished work. She smiles, and kisses your forehead. "That sounds wonderfull, my dear. I'm about to finish up, how about you get in the shower, and start getting ready, okay? Once I'm done, I'll join you, and we can bathe together." You eagerly took her up on that offer, running in the bathroom, as Grayson scolds you a little bit as you do, "Don't run, my love, you might fall!"
You take a nice hot shower, and Grayson joined you halfway through it. She shampooed your hair, worshipped your body, planted kissess in your face, and with that, you feel all the happiness in the world. And suddenly, the weeks of hard work were worth it, if it meant getting to do this with your wife as a reward. You scrub and massage her back, she was visibly tense, but loosened up a little bit. When you both got out, Greyson put on a tan shirt, and jeans, with white shoes. She looks absolutely hot, you can see her muscles filling in her shirt. God, you are so lucky to have married that woman.
You wore whatever u want, (make it appropriate, you're gonna be naked later anyways) You looked absolutely amazing. You wore the necklace Grayson gifted you for your anniversary, and she looked absolutely mesmerized by you. "Like what you see?" You tease her. She chuckled, and reached for your hand. "M'lady" She says, with a little curtsy. You giggle at her, and give her your hand, and she kisses your knuckles. She bring you to the car, and opens the door for you, "My dear, what a gentleman~" You say to her with a wink. and she gets on the driver's seat.
You both get to the bar, it was a calm atmosphere, and Grayson orders you both drinks. You just look at her with a smile, you can't believe this hot sexy woman was truly yours. She notices, and teases you, "enjoying the view?" She nudges you, and you roll your eyes. The beautiful atmosphere of the city, with your most beloved.
When the drinks came, you and Grayson teased, and flirted with each other all night, like you two weren't already a married couple. Grayson is surprisingly good at holding her alcohol. Ater a couple drinks, she wasn't even fazed, she was just calm, and less tensed. "Hmm, we needed this, didn't we?" You say to her, and she looked a little guilty for not doing this with you sooner. "Yes my love, but 'm glad we get to unwind now." She softly smiles at you, and tucks your hair behind your ear. "You look beautiful tonight, my love." She looks at you, she has perfect eye contact. Her finger circling the rim of her glass. You were visibly red now, the alcohol, and Grayson's flirty and deep voice. You're getting kind of hornier by each drink.
"Hon..." You say, she looks confused and a little worried now, "dear? Are you drunk? do you want to go home—" "I want you to fuck me, Grayson." You cut her off. She's visibly surprised, and confused, but her expression quickly changes to something a little darker. She stands up, and reaches for your hand, which you immedietly give. "Let's go home then." She gestures for you to get uo, and she makes her way to her car. She opens the door for you like the gentleman she is, and when she gets in the driver's seat, you immedietly pulls you into a kiss that turns into a makeout session.
"You taste so good, my love." She lets out low moans in the kiss. You smile, and slightly pull away to answer. "Mhm, better be, that's your money." You tease, your breaths so potent with alcohol, you kind of get a little more drunk, the more you kiss her. Your clothes, and hair all messy. You take your top off to reveal your bralette. She pulls away to catch her breath, as she admires the view. and kisses your forehead. "Let's continue this at home, shall we?" You nod, and agree, and get off from her lap, to sit next to her while she drives, and she puts a hand on your leg once in awhile, when she's not using it.
Once you both get home, let's just say she fulfills all your wishes that night. ❤️
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'm sorry, but HAVE YOU SEEN GRAYSON ON THAT GIF?! Ahem... I kinda wanna be that cup on the GIF, I'm so jealous. 🙄
#grayson x reader#arcane grayson x reader#grayson arcane#arcane grayson#enforcer grayson#arcane#arcane sevika#sevika#sevika my love#sevika x reader#sevika arcane#sevika x you#arcane fluff#sevika fluff#sevika my wife#league of legends#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#ambessa league of legends#wlw fluff#wlw#soft wlw#butch appreciation#butch lesbian#lesbian
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— ⋆˚。 IWH2BMX ᝰ.ᐟ chapter twelve
y/n l/n, the 4th member of the rnb girl group flo, is notorious for her very noticeable lack of pr training. once she goes through a very public breakup, her pr team finally decided it was time to control her online presence. daniela avanzini, the main dancer of the girl group katseye, found her reputation getting caught in the cross fire of her band mate’s blunt personality. so when both groups are caught at the same party, management gets a not so great idea.
mindless behaviour (half written)
“YOU’RE LATE” “BY A SINGULAR MINUTE!”
“that’s still late. is it not?” y/n ignores her comments, to avoid any chance of starting an argument with the cuban. “can we not? can we at least try to get along when we’re out in public?”
“fine… what are you ordering?” y/n looks through the menu before finding her go to. “chicken strips”
“ew-” “daniela!” “damn… my bad”
y/n and daniela mutually found themselves in a calm, and somewhat friendly conversation. talking about their careers. daniela talking about how it was being apart of dream academy, and y/n talking about how flo came to be.
their conversations got interrupted by both of their phones blowing up. notifications after notifications from twitter.
“well, we’re going viral…” daniela said calmly. “one of your fans posted us… and so did popbase.”
“ugh popbase just can’t get enough of me.” y/n’a giddiness earned an eye roll from daniela. “whatever. so i guess this is when we announce our…situation?”
“no!” y/n yelled a tad bit too loud for their location. “i mean-” she clears her throat. “we have to build up the suspense, you know?” “no. i don’t” the cuban looks at her confused
“it would seem… random if we just go “hey we’re dating”. we need to like… have then guessing… clawing at their cages, waiting for us to announce something. you gotta tease them a little bit.”
“you want us to ‘tease’ our fans… instead of just… being normal and announcing it?” daniela asked confused. “yes! to make it more believable when we actually announce it. we’ll post somethings of us together, or about each other. but give it some time until we actually go out and say our business.”
“pose.” y/n tells daniela. “what?” “just- pose.”
once daniela poses, y/n take a picture to post. “okay. if someone was to post you, what song would you want them to post you to?” the rnb singer asks. “ojitos lindos.” “i’ve never heard that one before.”
“what about you?” “what?”
“what song would you like someone to post you to?” “omg! hello by mindless behaviour”
“girl…who?” “you’re joking…” the look on daniela’s face shows that she is in fact… not joking.
“you don’t know mindless behaviour!? oh miss avanzini… you have some homework to do when you get home if this relationship is gonna work out.”
prev - masterlist - next
a/n: heyyyyyyy yall… i totally forgot to update lolz 😝 mindless behaviour will forever be that group
— taglist: @1luvkarina @yjiminswallet @sunshinez4 @winnmin @lara4eclipze @wtfisthisnoclueman @flowerluzx @meizinisnumberone @leotapes @meganskiendielsbtc @reey0w @haerinkisser @cassiespoiler @peanutbutterlover05 @p1hbrook @kristalag @yeetaberry127 @blushmimi @xochitlisbest @urmom2314 @bowforgodjihyo @vvyuqi @linnnsworld @fillthwvoid
#iwh2bmx#katseye#katseye smau#daniela avanzini x female reader#daniela avanzini x reader#daniela avanzini#daniela katseye#daniela x female reader#daniela x reader#katseye x reader#daniela avanzini katseye#katseye fluff#katseye daniela smau#katseye daniela#daniela avanzini smau#yvesismywife works !
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Title: Unspoken Boundaries
Marshall Mathers sat in his studio, earbuds in place as he played through some beats. His mind, however, wasn’t on his music. His thoughts kept drifting to her—Y/N. His wife. The one person who had always been his anchor, the calm in the storm that was his chaotic life.
She was a model—always had been—but this time was different. For the first time, she'd agreed to be in a music video. Just not his. Another rapper had offered her the role, and after years of turning down similar offers, she'd decided it was time to take the leap.
“Marsh, I’ve got something to tell you,” she had said earlier, her eyes filled with excitement.
“What’s up, babe?” He’d asked, looking up from his work.
She had been nervous. "I’m going to be in a music video. It’s for [Rapper's Name]."
Marshall had smiled, genuinely happy for her. She’d been working hard for years, building her career, and this was a huge opportunity. “That’s amazing, baby,” he’d said, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I’m proud of you.”
She’d smiled softly, but there was a glint of hesitation in her eyes. “It’s just... it’s not like what you’re used to. You know, I’ve never done something like this before. I just wanted you to know I’m doing it for me.”
“I get it,” he’d reassured her. “You’ve got this.”
But as the day of the shoot arrived, Marshall’s mind started to race. He kept thinking about her—his wife—being on set with someone else. He tried to push the thoughts down. She wasn’t just his wife; she was a professional, and this was a career move. Still, he couldn’t shake the discomfort that built in his chest as he imagined another man—another rapper—around her.
The day passed slowly. Every time his phone buzzed with another update from the set, his stomach tightened. He tried to ignore the gnawing feeling inside, but seeing pictures of her on set, looking so confident, so beautiful, made something stir in him. Then came the shot that did it—the shot. He saw the rapper’s hand on her waist. It was casual, nothing suggestive, but the image was enough to send a surge of jealousy coursing through his veins.
When she finally came home that night, Marshall was sitting in the living room, his hands restless on his lap as he tried to stay calm. He’d been pacing for hours, but when she walked through the door, he froze.
She stepped inside, looking tired but still glowing. Her eyes met his, and she hesitated for a moment.
“Hey, baby,” she said softly, her voice a mixture of exhaustion and warmth.
He didn’t reply right away. He couldn’t. His chest felt tight, his jealousy bubbling up again, but this time, it was different. This time, it was laced with something else—worry. “How’d it go?” he asked, his voice strained despite his efforts to keep it steady.
She shrugged off her jacket, running a hand through her hair. “It was good. I mean, it was fine, but...” She hesitated, biting her lip as if weighing how much to say.
Marshall’s mind raced, the image of the rapper’s hand on her waist flashing in his mind. “But what?” he asked, his voice low, almost too calm.
She paused, her gaze shifting toward the floor. “It just felt... weird, you know? He had his hand on me during some of the scenes, and it... I didn’t like it. I didn’t like being touched like that by someone else.”
Marshall’s heart dropped at her words. The jealousy, the worry—it all suddenly made sense. It wasn’t about the job. It was about her comfort, her boundaries. She had been in an uncomfortable situation, one that had nothing to do with the work itself but everything to do with what felt right for her.
He stepped toward her, his expression softening. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t realize—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I was being selfish. I just... I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else touching you.”
She smiled at him, a tired but affectionate smile. “It wasn’t that bad. It’s just... I never wanted to be in a position like that, you know? I’ve always kept my distance from that kind of thing. I didn’t expect to feel so... off about it.”
Marshall reached out and cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it now. I just... I hate the thought of anyone else having a piece of you, even if it’s just for a second. You’re mine. Always have been.”
Her eyes softened, and she leaned into his touch. “I know. And I’m still yours. But it was just... one of those things. I couldn’t do it, Marsh. I couldn’t let him get too close, even if it was for the job.”
Marshall’s chest swelled with relief, but a sudden thought crossed his mind—an idea he’d been too hesitant to voice before. “Then maybe... maybe it’s time for you to be in one of my videos.”
She looked at him, surprise flashing in her eyes. “What?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice firm but full of affection. “I want you in my video. You’ve been by my side through all of this, and I think it’s about time the world gets to see us together, the way it should be. I don’t want you to be in anyone else’s video unless it’s with me.”
[Y/N] smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing as she wrapped her arms around him. “You mean that?”
“Of course I do,” he said, his voice warm. “I’ve been wanting it for so long. No one else should have that privilege.”
She kissed him then, her lips soft and tender against his. “I’d love to, Marsh. Let’s make it happen.”
Marshall felt a sense of relief flood through him, a peace that only came when she was near. He knew they were both in this together, and she wasn’t just his wife—she was his partner, his equal. No matter how many other men might try to get close to her, she would always come back to him.
And now, more than ever, he was determined to share that with the world.
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02/02/2025
Hallo everyone! Tumblr devlog time!
Summary Bullets:
The last time I posted an update here was to talk about the Episode 2 public release. And now I am moving on to Episode 3. Let's jump in.
I have worked on some new sprites,
Received some new BGs
Worked on new outfits and variations
Staged sprite positions, entrances, and exits
Coded in the eye colour changes
Written up the recap for Episode 2
Coding the SFX and music cues
Started on Wil's expressions
Made some decisions about the next episode (more below)
Art:
I have been working on some new sprites as there are a couple of new characters that pop up in the next episode.
I've also been working on new sprite variations and outfits for some of the characters (including Wil)
There are a lot of new things that will be showing up in Chapter 5 because the crew goes to a new location which requires a whole new set of backgrounds.
Some of these are game-ready, others have to be cropped, prepped, and/or have variations made, however.
Writing
I haven't worked on any bonus content or anything but I did write up the recap info for Episode 2.
Recap stuff can be weirdly time consuming. I want it to be detailed enough it is informative for people but not a massive summary that takes forever to write up.
But other than that I haven't really done any writing...
Other Stuff:
I have been doing a lot of mostly small coding things - coding in the eye colour changes (which I always do before working on expressions) or adding in transitions for the menus, adding in music and SFX and stuff like that.
Before I get into the heavy coding things like the flowcharts or the expressions, there are all sorts of fiddly things that are nice to get out of the way first.
Then more fiddly things after the heavy things are done...
But for now I've been getting some of the smaller things out of the way so I can tick them off the to-do list.
I have started coding Wil's expressions but haven't gotten too far into that just yet.
I have decided that Episode 3 is going to *just* include chapter 5 instead of including 5 and 6.
I've gone back and forth since the beginning on whether I wanted episodes to include one or two chapters.
I really like being able to do massive updates with 70-90k words because it gives players a lot of content to go through but in all honesty there are some drawbacks to doing it that way. I don't want to get into all those ins and outs but the point is that I finally decided I need to try doing a single chapter release and see if it works better for me, for all of you, and for the project.
Chapter 5 is still really big. On its own, it's over 60,000 words of content so it's not like it's a teensy li'l thing. It's still got some heft.
But yeah, that's my current stance on episode 3 and afterwards we'll see if I'm content to stick to single chapter updates released at a slightly faster pace. And if it helps my sanity.
Upcoming Weeks:
Mostly focused on sprite expressions and getting some of the BG assets ready for the game I think.
Expressions, next to the CGs and flowcharts are basically the biggest chunk of STUFF to do so I want to get that out of the way early and then focus on other things before I tackle some of the other big development things.
That's all for now. See ya in a few weeks.
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I do like the ending to the TF2 comics, but it feels so evident that it was heading toward a different ending that I'm dying to hear theories on what it might have been. Penny for your thoughts?
So, this is kind of a difficult one to answer because the sheer amount of time over which the comics were produced means that "the original ending" could have changed way closer to the beginning of the project than the end. But, generally, I think the point at which you can sort of see the pivot towards the comics team realizing that they were going to have to resolve the story unaided was around issue 4 or 5.
I do believe them that something akin to the reveal about the Administrator was always the plan; it's simply too thematically aligned with the game as a whole. But I do think that the original plan probably tied into the space race, references to which have been threaded through TF2 since at least the pyromania update.
This is from the blog post for TF comics 3, which also featured discussion of the team's development of the now-shelved map Asteroid- A map set on some kind of moon base, released in a partially-completed state for testing and feedback purposes. The game mode consisted of hunting and destroying the enemies teams swarm of maintenance robots to charge a reactor to... do something. Speculations on what the lore underpinning this setup would be abounded; I recall people assuming for the sake of simplicity that Grey probably had something to do with the robots. No concrete lore ever materialized because the map dematerialized several years ago, but the effort on display indicates they were planning something with this.
Around this time, multiple assets were added to the game gesturing at some kind of conspiratorial project; The blue Mann co poster in particular has a space-related aesthetic.
Powerhouse, released in 2015, had a couple similar hint assets, again released at a point in the game's lifespan where the devs putting something in the game might actually hint at a future plan;
This is on top of on the existing lore about the Mann Co./TF Industries space program- Doomsday and the sabotaged Poopy Joe launch (later revealed to be the result of Helen swindling the U.S government out of their Australium for at-the-time unknown reasons,) all of which was still a comparatively recent addition to the lore when issue 3 and these posters came out. And, on top of all that, we have the climax of issue 4- the last cache of australium on earth being taken to space by Sniper's birth mother:
In the story as written the New Zealand excursion is pretty weird- it contributes to Sniper's characterization, but otherwise this amounts to an Australium cache introduced and lost in the span of the same issue; fundamentally an odd use of page space if they didn't intend to do something with this.
So, all things considered, the original plan would probably have involved an excursion to, and final showdown in, space. Either The Administrator or Grey Mann might have had a long term goal that was dependent on access to space, necessitating extensive australium access for reasons besides their life extenders; alternatively, they might have all just pursued Sniper's mom up there, the joke ultimately being that everyone wound up stranded in outer space in order to scrape a few more months of pointless life extension off the side of a rocket. The split difference might have been that Grey's grand evil plan involved space-born domination, which Helen wanted to prevent not on moral grounds, but because letting Grey succeed would ruin her plan to torture Zephaniah; this would rhyme with what happens in the story as written, where Grey really did have a conventional evil plan to kill everyone in Australia that got headed off mainly by accident than due to heroic intervention. RD_Asteroid would have released as the centerpiece of a tie-in update, a gameplay tie-in to the story arc.
Can't even begin to guess how Charles Darling and Oliva were supposed to play into all of this. They likely were, though; Charles has a connection to the tangled Mann Family web through Bette Darling, and the whole Saxton Mags resolution felt pinched as hell.
Standing disclaimer that a lot of this is from memory of being in the fandom as all of this was developing- there's likely stuff I've missed or forgotten.
#asks#ask#tf2#team fortress 2#thoughts#meta#the invasion update was speculated to tie into this somehow but that was one of several nothingburgers#tf2 comics
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Hello! First off I wanted to thank you for posting fhe latest chapter of Carpe Noctem. Writing take so much effort and I want you to know that you are very much appreciated! I am sorry to hear about the copying thing. I haven’t come across it yet but it must have sucked especially when you have put so much effort into the concept.
I wanted to yell more about the recent chapter because the diner scene especially made me scream - it captures the reader and Sylus’s dynamic so well! And it was just. So. Cool!! And then and then and then with them in the safe house finally! Everything was so well-written!
And because I’m a sucker for angst what if his phone suddenly rings and it’s her she’s back early and he forgets where he was for 2 seconds so he pulls away from you and answers out of muscle memory because of course, why wouldn’t he, right. You’re so dumb, this was just to fill the absence and she’s your friend how could you do this so you slip out quietly, as you should, disappearing into the night so he could focus on her. It was only for a few seconds, he hurries a “sorry sweetie, I���ll call you back” out of his lips and turns and you’re gone. For days. And he’s out his mind with worry.
Sorry for the word vomit, your stories and concepts are so, so incredible and I hope you continue and keep the passion burning. have a great day!!
Hello, sug!
Thank you for being so supportive and taking the time to read carpe noctem. I’m blessed that you liked it. I was afraid to post the latest chapter because I feared it wouldn’t live up to the first few parts I shared. But I am grateful for the amount of feedback I’ve received on it. 🥹🥹🥹
It’s a shitty feeling. I tried to sleep on it last night and allow myself time to calm down before I reached out to the person who duplicated my work. I poured my experiences, feelings, and thoughts into carpe noctem and limerence, so it was very disheartening to see someone take something I’ve been working on for months that is l literally a part of me pass it off as their own.
But enough of that.
I’m glad you enjoyed the diner scene. 😭😭😭 I was so afraid to incorporate that because I was thinking, “Is this really necessary? Is this cringe?” But I wanted to provide more insight into Sylus and the reader’s relationship, as they’ve been thick as thieves since she began working more closely with him.
Sylus’ Night of Secrecy card heavily influenced the safe house scene. I wanted to write something similar but with my own twist. Again, I was terrified to incorporate this, but I feel that it was somewhat of a turning point for their relationship. Some progress where they’ve spent four years dancing around each other.
I’ve been watching so many C-Dramas these days where right before two love interests kiss, a phone rings, and one of them is compelled to answer it. It drives me insane! Like, does no one silence their phones anymore?!
But, I did consider implementing that idea for carpe noctem, where Luke or Kieran call right before things get too heated, alerting Sylus that everything following the reader’s mission has been cleaned up. And right after, the spell between them is broken, and the reader realizes what a mistake she made after retreating to one of the guest rooms. I didn’t think to have MC on the phone. 🤔🤔🤔 That’s not a terrible idea, actually. For the reader to hear her friend’s voice on the speaker and, it snaps her back into reality.
Sylus would drive himself sick with worry, wondering if he had crossed a line, if he had misread things and pushed her too far. This is the kind of pain I ache for. I will be thinking about this for days.
Again, thank you so much for reaching out to me and feeding my brain worms! Once I get out of this funk, I’ll definitely consider your suggestions for the updates. I hope you have a lovely day!
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Hi.
I've seen the messages in my inbox informing me that Dashingdon is shutting down. Thank you.
I'll admit that I'm surprised. I didn't think anyone was still waiting for Jinn of Arabia since it's been awhile since I last updated the game.
I totally went past the deadline I promised you guys. Sorry about that.
So I moved the game to cogdemos.
I don't know when the next update is coming. I'm writing so slowly.
Part of the problem is that I keep second guessing myself. I've been wasting so much time rewriting sentences over and over again hoping to refine it better.
I know the game is a wip, so its not expected to be perfect from the get go and yet I feel like I need to refine it more. Which I know is unnecessary. The pursuit for perfection really does drain me.
So to give you some writing progress (I've still been writing), I did say that the beginning structure of the game no longer starts with the MC in prison and having them recall their life as a crown heir.
Rather now the game begins with the MC at age 10 and the reader lives through the life of being a royal.
The beginning childhood chapter is not going to be long. However it is necessary for the player to get the feel of being royalty.
You get to live the good, bad and ugly of being a crown heir of a young kingdom.
Growing up in opulence and riches is surely nice. But of course a young kingdom formed through war leaves a bitter taste in many people's mouths, especially the losing side.
Your MC will meet the consorts in the harem who are married to the sultan (MC's father). They are married to the sultan because their side lost the war and their clans had to submit unconditionally to your father.
Then of course you're going to exposed to the ugly. Your MC is a jinn and the servants who have cared for the MC their whole lives are human slaves. The eunuchs, maids and even the wet nurse is a slave. Jinn tend not to look fondly to humans but you get to decide how your MC views humans.
When your MC is trying to get their throne back, you can form alliances with human tribes/clans.
Honestly, I'm more excited about the fight scenes. Even the training scene with young MC feels fun... at least to me.
Even with the rewrite, the fundamentals stay the same. You know what happens to the MC on their 12th birthday.
Again, can't tell when I'll be ready to release something finally to you all.
For now, here is the link to the dashingdon version of Jinn of Arabia that has been moved to cogdemos.
If you'd like something to be explored in MC's childhood, don't be shy to send a suggestion.
Again thanks. And stay well!
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market update // national seed swap day 2025
geeeeez i have so many notifications here, i guess i really haven't been on here in a hot minute. it has been nuts prepping for my first *major* seed swap, and it legit was a major one. but now that it has been a week, i think i'm finally starting to catch up with things. but i want to share with y'all before i forget all my mental notes and stories!!
i personally took so very few photos, because after 5 minutes in i was SWAMPED!! there was a line the entire 2 hours of the swap, and at the end of the market we had to tape off the seed swap portion in order to pack up! i was genuinely only expecting a steady stream of curious people, but it was shoulder to shoulder people, courtiosuly helping one another find varieties of this or that and everyone talking and asking questions!
now for setup... i had myself, my farmer mama (sooo happy she was able to make it!!), a local community garden captain who i asked to volunteer so he could promote his community and network a bit himself, another fellow plant vendor at the market, and one other volunteer who knew nothing about gardening but LOVES to organized. and y'all... i could not have asked for a better team to help me. farmer mama helped me keep my panic attacks away from so many people in one place... the community garden captain helped put a smile on everyone's face and giving the regulars new info, the fellow vendor was acting like she was a salesman and got so many seeds flying off the tables by answering sooooo many questions, and the last volunteer kept all the tables nice and tidy throughout the swap and refilled when space opened up. it was truly amazing.
we had a total of 25 feet of table space, and every table was jam packed with seeds. i brought approx. 1,375 seed packets (+/- a few dozen between added donos the morning of and me shipping some out the week before). but the thing is... the tables never got empty because of the amount we also had donated back! we had books and nursery containers too. i left with more books than what i arrived with, and all the nursery containers were gone by end of the swap. which is good because i don't need any more of those 😅
i think, with the seeds donated day of, that there were more seeds saved personally than open seed packets than i expected. now, sadly, i'm going to have to get the word out that labeling seeds as "pumpkin" is... well... not all too helpful for anyone. but i have 350ish days to get that word out before the next seed swap. and i plan to! just... need to wind down from this event first, mentally.
ok so, i know that part of my autism is me legit not being able to grasp certain concepts of emotions... even with hubs best efforts i still can't understand empathy. but i also... ok sorry this is hard to explain so it'll be written poorly... but a ton of people kept congratulating me??? saying what i did was a "true accomplishment" and i "knocked this out of the part" and "you succeeded!!" but... this wasn't about me???? i didn't do this for me. i did this for everyone who needs food. for those who have been too scared to try and start seeds before. who have tried before but trying again was too high of an investment. i didn't do this for my benefit, nor for marketing, or anything. the community garden captain gained more social media followers than me, and that's EXACTLY what i wanted!! one woman, dressed as though she was just barely getting by, legitimately broke out into tears when she picked up one envelope, dug through her purse and asked how much and i said "everything on these tables are free!" she said thank you a few times before she couldn't hold it in and grabbed a few more packets and left. congratulate HER on having the means go grow when it obviously means so much to her! congratulate ao many others who now won't have to worry about how they're going to afford a garden this year when bills are so tight! i don't know... maybe i'm missing something. just... i don't need a pat on the back for helping people. this should be the norm, bar minimum, not an accomplishment.
...
anyway... notes for next year:
- have a better donation system. turns out a lot of people were putting the seeds on the table that they brought, and nobody realized it, so i couldn't properly thank those people when they did.
- make sure to get more companies to donate. i had 7 companies donate, but renee's garden donated over 600 seed packets alone while every other company was, like, 50 maximum. we are going to need quite a lot more next year...
- still debating on switching my company to non-profit or not. i've talked to an "official non-profit consultant" at the local community college but she didn't really answer my questions about my type of business. i'm definitely not doing any of this for money, but i need more funding if i want to make seed swaps not only bigger but in more locations, both in person and online. and i have soooo many ideas on how to do so. i just need to figure out the best way to do so, legally. i'm just scared of messing some sort of legal paperwork or taxes up when i switch to non-profit.
- try and get the same volunteer team. i could not have done it without them.
- grow. grow grow grow and grow.
that last note is for you, too.
just grow 🌱
#food not lawns#gardening#home garden#gardenblr#homegrown#grow food#food#garden blog#suburbian agriculture#suburban agriculture#suburbia farming#suburban farm#seed swapping#seed swap#national seed swap day
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I've been here for a while but people were in denial about clever?? Don't get me wrong I've been in denial about my fair share of no-body deaths, but that's because I sniffed out something fishy in the subtext. Clever's case always felt, uh, pretty open and shut to me. Between the dream sequence, her death's role in the story, and the fact she definitely was not getting out of that situation/didn't seem intent to run. The whole affair felt very... Final.
This was way back before Arc 2 began and we doubled down that she was indeed dead. Plus, it was more of a running gag and an AU idea than people legit believing it. I think the vast majority of readers completely accepted that she was dead.
But yeah, I purely made that comparison with the chapter updates dying in jest because it's been nearly two years now and... we're never going back to full chapter updates. No matter how many times people ask. Page-by-page updates has just served us so much better and actually helped with productivity so we feel it was a reasonable sacrifice.
I also certainly feel we did as well as we did to update chapter-by-chapter for so long. idk about anybody else but 18 chapters over two or so years is a ton of pages. c: - RJ
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Chapter VII: “A Game To Remember: O’Hara And Taurasi’s Night Didn’t End At The Buzzer” | Diana Taurasi x OC
Warnings: Smut :)
A/N: So, hello. I know I've been MIA, and I am very sorry for that, but I have a reason. First of all, per usual, college is kicking my fucking ass. It's clear who is who's bitch, and honestly, uni already put me a leash, okay? But I gotta say guys, this chapter is probably one of my favorites so far. Also, I've been taking so long between updates because I kind of lost where I was going with all of this, so I had to sit back, reconnect with all, and, you know, plan something new. But it's all good. Chapter 8 is already in the works, and honestly, it's kind of finished, so it should come very very soon, I want to say the weekend, but don't trust me on that, because yeah, I don't want to be that girl. But as I said, I loved this chapter with all my heart. I hope you guys love it too, because this took a while. As always, English is not my first language, so if you find something that is wrong, please tell me ASAP so I can change it, likes, reblogs and comments(!!!) are super appreciated and my ask box is always open. And I have nothing else to say, so I hope you enjoy! Love, Sof :)
Making headlines masterlist
I told myself I wouldn’t lose my mind over this.
I told myself it was just a game.
I told myself a lot of shit that turned out to be fucking lies.
It had been weeks, weeks of pretending like my body didn’t betray me every time I closed my eyes. Weeks of pretending that I hadn’t spent every night tangled in sheets that suddenly felt too empty. Weeks of pretending that the kiss didn’t mean anything. That Diana hadn’t dug herself so deep into my brain that I couldn’t get her out even if I tried.
But now, the wait was over. The schedule had finally lined up.
Las Vegas Aces vs. Phoenix Mercury.
Victoria O’Hara vs. Diana fucking Taurasi.
I had spent every second leading up to this game trying to convince myself that nothing had changed. That she was still just a rival, just another obstacle in my way. I’d stared at myself in the mirror that morning, gripping the sink so hard my knuckles turned white, and I told myself Victoria, you’re being fucking stupid. This is just a game.
Not a rivalry. Not a friendship. Not whatever the fuck that kiss was.
Just a game.
So I walked into that arena with my head held high, my mind locked in. I was ready. I was going to play like a beast, and I was going to win.
And for a while, it worked.
From the moment the ball tipped off, I was locked in. My body moved on instinct, footwork crisp, shots falling, defense locked. I wasn’t thinking about her. I wasn’t thinking about anything except the weight of the ball in my hands and the sound of the crowd with every bucket.
I wasn’t thinking about her.
Even when we brushed past each other on the court.
Even when I felt the heat of her body inches from mine on defense.
Even when she fouled me, gripping my waist a little too long before letting go.
Nope. Not thinking about her. Not thinking about her lips. Not thinking about-
Fucking hell, focus.
So I did. I shrugged off the tension. I kept my mind in the game, not on Diana. And I fucking owned it.
Triple-double. Complete domination.
By the time the final buzzer sounded, I had done what I came here to do. We won. I played like a monster. I proved I didn’t need to think about her to be great.
I should have felt satisfied. Instead, all I felt was exhausted.
I changed quickly, barely acknowledging the celebration around me, just wanting to get to my car, to get home, to sleep, if I even could.
But the moment I stepped out into the parking lot, I froze. Because nothing can be that perfect, because god hates me, because there she fucking was.
Leaning against the hood of a car like she had every right to be there, arms crossed, looking like she had been waiting for me.
You have to be fucking shitting me.
I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “No. No, no, no. I am not doing this right now.”
She smirked, pushing off the car. “Didn’t even say hi first, baby. That’s rude.”
I clenched my jaw. “Don’t call me that.”
Her smirk widened. “You’re really gonna act like nothing happened?”
I threw my hands up. “That kiss? Didn’t mean anything. It was the heat of the moment. Happens to the best of us. Move on.”
Her eyebrows raised like she was amused, like I was some little kid throwing a tantrum. “Yeah? Heat of the moment?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve been sleeping just fine since then, huh?”
I stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She took a step closer. I took one back.
“You sure about that?”
I hated how easily she saw through me. Hated how her voice sent a shiver down my spine. Hated how I couldn’t run from this conversation because my body was already betraying me, drawn to her like she was fucking magnetic.
“You should go,” I muttered. “Go with your team to your hotel. I don’t even know why you’re here. Why are you here?”
She tilted her head, watching me like I was something interesting, something worth figuring out. “Because you haven’t stopped thinking about me. And I wanted to see what you’d do about it.”
I swallowed hard. I was so fucking tired. Tired of running from this. Tired of pretending. Tired of fighting myself.
“I just want you to go” I whispered, my voice cracking in a way that made my stomach twist. “This is my job, okay? Basketball is my job. That’s what we are. We are rivals in our workplace. That’s what we are. Nothing else.”
She stepped closer. “You know damn well we’re not that.”
And that’s when I snapped.
I shoved her back and tried to walk away, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to feel something other than the mess of emotions clawing at my chest. But she caught my wrist before I could pull away, and suddenly we were close, too close, her breath warm on my lips.
I hated this. I hated her. I hated the way my body responded like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
“You drive me fucking insane,” I whispered.
She smirked. “I know.”
Then I was kissing her.
It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t careful, it was reckless, it was raw. Teeth, tongues, hands gripping wherever they could.
And suddenly, I wasn’t in the parking lot anymore.
Suddenly, we were in my apartment.
Suddenly, clothes were on the floor.
Suddenly, Diana Taurasi was knuckle-deep inside me, and I could finally, finally, stop pretending.
She was everywhere, her mouth on my throat, her hands holding me open, her body pressed against mine like she never wanted to leave. And fuck, it was better than I imagined, better than the dreams that had kept me up at night.
It wasn’t just sex.
It was everything.
The hate, the competition, the year and a half of tension, the unspoken questions neither of us wanted to answer. It was the fire in my veins when she kissed me, the ache in my chest when she whispered my name against my skin.
It was need.
Her hands burned where they touched me, her mouth leaving bruises in places no one else had dared to mark in so long. My body reacted to her like it had been waiting for this, for her.
“Fuck, Vic,” she muttered against my lips, her fingers gripping my hips as I pulled her closer.
Vic.
Not Victoria. Not O’Hara. Vic.
Like she knew me. Like she had the right. Like she belonged here.
And the worst part? It sounded good coming from her. I could get used to the sound of my name coming out of her lips while she moaned it against my skin, while her teeth sank into my shoulder, while her fingers pumped inside me, knuckle deep, stretching me open until I was gasping for air.
I could get used to Vic being the last thing she said before she buried her face between my thighs, before her tongue flicked against my clit, before she had me gripping her hair guiding her deeper, begging, fucking begging, for more.
I could get used to Diana Taurasi knowing exactly how I sound when I break.
I could get used to it real fucking fast.
I gasped as she grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze, her thumb brushing over my parted lips before slipping inside. Her other hand trailed lower, teasing, just enough to make me squirm.
She smirked, voice low and smug.
"You like making things difficult, don't you, baby?"
I hated her.
I hated her.
And I whimpered when her leg hooked over mine, her hips pressing flush against me, the slick heat of her rubbing against me in a rhythm that made my head spin, arching off the bed as she swallowed my moans with her mouth.
It wasn’t just hate sex.
It wasn’t just love sex.
It was war.
Every thrust, every touch, every breath was a battle neither of us wanted to win. We just wanted to feel it. To consume and be consumed. To take and be taken.
I held onto her like she was the only thing keeping me grounded, and maybe she was.
Because when the world faded to nothing but the feeling of her, I realized something terrifying.
This wasn’t just sex.
This was her owning me.
And I let her.
I came undone beneath her, around her, because of her. And she knew it. She knew it in the way she slowed down just enough to make me whimper, in the way she murmured, “that’s it, baby” against my ear, in the way she never took her eyes off me as I fell apart.
And when it was over, I laid there, trying to catch my breath, my body thrumming with exhaustion and something terrifyingly close to satisfaction.
But then I heard movement.
I turned my head just in time to see her pulling on her clothes. My chest tightened as I sat up. “You’re leaving?”
She didn’t answer right away. She just zipped up her hoodie, redid that fuckass slick-back bun she’s always wearing, and then, then she walked back over.
She leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead.
Then she whispered something, something I couldn’t even process through the haze in my mind.
“You’re mine, baby.”
And then she left.
I sat there, in the empty room, the only evidence of her presence the lingering scent of her and the dull ache between my legs.
I laid there, feeling everything.
The ache in my body. The heat still lingering in my skin. The growing, crushing realization that she had just wrecked me and left.
I stared at the door, waiting. Hoping.
It never opened again.
I exhaled, closing my eyes. I didn’t know what the fuck just happened. I didn’t know what we were. But I knew one thing
I was in so much trouble.
Requests are Open!
Masterlist
#lesbian#fanfic#diana taurasi#wnba x reader#diana taurasi x reader#boowrites★#wnba basketball#making headlines#phoenix mercury
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INTERVIEW
Peter Capaldi: 'We didn't rehearse for The Thick of It. I could never remember my lines'
The Doctor Who star talks about the new series of The Devil's Hour, having a sinister voice, and how society has stopped investing in young people
(Photo: Yoshitaka Kono/Amazon Prime)
Helen Brown
October 18, 2024 5:00 am (Updated 8:58 am)
Peter Capaldi can trace the moment he “became the go-to person for the darker, more disturbing parts” back to 2013. “I was recording a voiceover for an Anchor Butter commercial,” he says. “They had a nice, cosy slogan, ‘Anchor butter: Tastes like Home.’ I did the line to the best of my ability, but they said: ‘Could you make it a little less sinister?’” He grins and shakes his head. “I thought, ‘It’s all over now! But if people want to buy sinister, that’s alright. I’ll give it to them!’”
Zooming onto my computer screen, he’s edgy in a crisp black blazer and a black shirt buttoned tight up to the jugular. This means that his pale, gaunt face seems to float above his collar like a ghost train skull – an effect he can enhance by tilting his head forward so that shadows blot out his eye sockets and hollows his cheeks.
This happens when he rocks forward laughing at the recollection of how that Anchor butter experience would be his last commercial voice over – “because I could no longer do it without irony, without indicating my distrust of the whole process”. Capaldi was 55 at the time. He’d just finished a seven-year stint playing foul-mouthed spin doctor Malcolm Tucker in the fourth and final series of Armando Iannucci’s political comedy The Thick of It (2005-2012). And he was on the brink of sending a whole new generation of children scuttling behind their sofas as the Twelfth Doctor in Doctor Who, bringing an unprecedented existential chill into a show that had “obsessed” him from childhood.
Although this was always Capaldi’s take on Doctor Who, he tells me he was “never scared, not at all” by the programme when he was a boy. Instead he recalls the science fiction and horror films he devoured as “a gateway to the imagination” for a creative child. Capaldi, the son of Italian immigrants who ran an ice cream business (and were neighbours of the Iannucci family), famously wrote to the BBC, aged just six, to say that “when I grow up I want to be an actor so I can help Doctor Who”. By the age of 18, he was writing fanzines about the show and bothering fan-club directors by expecting a direct dialogue with the producers of his favourite show.
It may seem like Capaldi was destined to play the Time Lord – but his working-class background forced him to take a roundabout route into acting. He didn’t get into drama school because he didn’t know enough about the audition process to have prepared monologues, and went to art school instead, where he became the lead singer in a punk rock band called the Dreamboys. “Art, music, horror films… all these OBSESSIONS,” he chuckles now, grateful for the government grant that enabled a working-class boy to imagine a career in the creative arts was possible. “Art school was the right place for me and my parents couldn’t afford it. Back then there was a belief in investing in the potential of young people, which seems to have gone. That’s terribly wrong, denying that potential.”
That said, Capaldi did get into trouble in his first year of art school for “spending too much of my grant on curries and lager and not enough on art supplies”. He recalls finding a letter his tutor had sent home to his parents, warning them he would be chucked off the course if he didn’t pull his socks up. “Luckily I got to the letter before my mother did, hid it and worked harder.”
Capaldi fully expected to metamorphose into a director at this point. But – despite an initial invite to the Weinstein party – it didn’t happen for him. Looking back, he’s relieved not to have been sucked into the Hollywood system. “It is rare for British directors to flourish over there,” he says. “The traditional path is that they do an independent movie and the Americans love it. They get you on the phone and suddenly you’re making a film with some big Hollywood star and that does OK. But the next one doesn’t and it all begins to fall away… I think that may have been what would have happened to me…” He rakes a hand through his shock of white hair and chuckles ruefully. “Luckily it all fell away much more quickly than that in my case!”
But after “one really terrible year when there was no sense of anyone being interested in me in any way shape or form”, he was rescued by the plummy-voiced actor Martin Jarvis (who had appeared in Doctor Who in the 60s, 70s and 80s), who cast him in a radio play. Everything picked up from there. Which led to Malcolm Tucker.
I’ve always thought one of the things that made Capaldi such a compelling Doctor – and now such a deeply unsettling Gideon Shepherd – is the way he seems to transmit unpredictability. The combination of the mad-scientist hair and restless energy lend him a crackle of cosmic instability that makes you think he could glitch between dimensions at any moment. He suspects he learned this working on The Thick of It.
“Armando [Ianucci] was obsessed with filming everything live,” he says. “Although a lot gets made of the improvisation we did, he wanted the script word-perfect. But there were no rehearsals, so the performances were alive, full of attack.” He says there was added jeopardy playing Tucker because he “had so much material to learn I wasn’t always certain of my ability to grasp it all. Sometimes I would have to stick an extra ‘f***’ in while I searched for a word.”
He hung onto that tension when he was cast as the Twelfth Doctor and says it “helped me keep things vital at times when we were down to a last take, shooting in a car park in the rain and the latex was all coming off the monster.” Some people, he says, “will have seen my Doctor Who through a Malcolm Tucker filter.”.
He agrees that The Devil’s Hour is, in many ways, a kind of Doctor Who for grown-ups, “plugging into a creepy cosmic thing I’ve accrued”. Instead of latex monsters, his character is battling “real, adult fears”. The show confronts us with rapists and paedophiles; torture, murder and mutilation. Blowing through the chilly heart of the series is the dread of isolation – the fear that even our parents and children may not know or love us. Perhaps that they’re not even real.
“The show has been really popular,” mulls Capaldi with mild surprise as we wind up our chat. The actor tells me he’s a vulnerable person, “scared of all kinds of things as a father and as a grandfather… as a sentient observer of this world, what’s NOT to be scared of?” For this reason, the man who’s planning to spend his Christmas Day watching the new Nosferatu film suspects horror shows like The Devil’s Hour offer an essential release valve.
“There’s a calming quality about going into this dark, nightmarish world. Then getting to the end, watching the credits roll and being reassured that it was all a pretence.”
‘The Devil’s Hour‘ series two is on Prime Video
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Been meaning to respond with some points here and also with an (pretty immediate after my earlier post) update to how I feel about this, which is still unsure of what Musk's intentions in the moment but generally feeling less generous towards the man.
Since writing the last post on this, I've seen this fairly classic video of Hitler saluting to a crowd in a call-and-response routine, and Hitler's salute is in fact somewhat in a side direction rather than in front of him. What I took even more notice of is that it involves a gesture towards his chest before the arm goes out, much like what Musk did -- previously I had felt like the gesture of hitting his heart before the "salute" was evidence against the act being a deliberate imitation of a Nazi salute, but now I realize the resemblance is fuller than I'd thought, even though Musk's towards-the-chest gesture is somewhat different from Hitler's and clearly indicates his heart.
Second one was more salute-y but he was turning around.
I think actually he was just turning to a different part of the crowd? Not sure on this.
The amount of variance in Nazi salutes from back in Nazi Germany times is interesting, and your bringing up mic drops and so on leads to the point that if we worked as strenuously to find ways to attack people based on sensitivity to anything within as wide a radius as possible of Nazi gestures as we do on finding fault with people based on sensitivity to some other offensive things, then a lot of currently perfectly acceptable everyday behavior would become problematic. But I'm not convinced that your point about the variation is really relevant to our speculation about Musk's intentions or our reaction to his behavior. What matters is not what the actual variation among Nazi salutes was back in the days of Naziism, which is only knowable to people who remember eighty-something years ago or people who have researched by watching lots of Nazi reels; what matters is our common collective conception of what a standard Nazi salute is. By that standard, Musk's gesture -- particularly the brusque motion itself apart from the final position of his arm -- looked a lot more Nazi-ish than mic drops or (say, because I've seen people posting this) Taylor Swift or Kamala Harris greeting to a crowd with an outstretched arm.
Not directly in response to your reblog, I've seen some more interesting discourse about how autism plays into this since my last post, including some people (like Robert Wright) going "Well, the autistic people I know are somewhat awkward, but none of them go around doing things that look like Nazi salutes" and others (I think Bill Maher) saying something like, "Autistic people are always doing something strange looking with their arms when they're celebrating." And the latter annoyed me, while at the same time I notice earlier in the Musk video that while he's walking out on stage in jubilation, he is kind of moving in a neurodivergent way. At the same time, I don't think this lends as much credence to the theory that his offensive gesture was a matter of being autisticly unaware of how his movement looked: we could flip that the other way and suppose that he was trying to make a Nazi salute and make the same argument to dismiss any point about the minor differences between what his motion and what Nazis do: "He may have been trying to signal to Nazis but somewhat awkwardly and inaccurately because of his autism."
You and someone else (in comments) pointed out some of Musk's views that I hadn't entirely been aware of which suggests it's not actually all that implausible that he could have Nazi sympathies (beyond him being cozy with Trump and Trump being fascisty etc.). In light of that, I think I went too far before with my italicized run-on rant about the "Resistance's" determination to make everything Trump-related out to be Nazi-ish (although I do expect to be exasperated at some points by how far that will go in Trump Part 2). And I think you're right that we should be focusing on that and treating, well, his stated views as the main evidence for his probable views over potential dog-whistling. But as to the question of what he intended with the gesture, to the extent that it matters... well, his stated views don't work too well in his favor.
Musk hasn't denied trying to signal Naziism as far as I know and has been using it as an excuse to troll instead. I still find it quite plausible that he didn't really mean to do it in the moment (with the "subconsciously mimicked the types of gestures he'd been exposed to that he thought looked cool and masculine and those unfortunately included Nazi gestures" version of this hypothesis seeming quite likely), but it's been suggested -- I think also quite plausibly -- that he made the gesture(s) deliberately, not out of sincere Nazi convictions, but to troll, to upset the Left so that he could point at them in the aftermath and mock them.
All-around not a good human being, at least that much is for sure.
I wish people more easily were able to separate "this is horrifyingly insensitive/offensive/inappropriate and nobody should do it and I have a right to be angry that someone did/said the thing" from "this is a confirmation of the offender actually having the worst-case belief whose existence is the reason for the thing being considered so offensive, and so I should feel unsafe because they did/said the thing".
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I feel good...decided to start writing a new chapter for one of my WIPs, checked Ao3 too and realised that I haven't updated it since August of last year....oops. ><!
but I feel good because I added just over 4 thousand words to the first half of the chapter....sure that is mostly all smut between Stiles and Derek having sex for the first time in front of the pack, but it felt good to write something for it again.
If you're wondering, it's for my Fem Stiles, tribal fic: If you want peace prepare for war.
#Sterek#Derek Hale#Stiles Stilisnki#Ao3#fic#Teen wolf#Handsofred#writing#updating#woohoo#finally and about time I did updated this#only taking me to chapter 18 for them to finally screw each other
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