#job market components

[torresbernal]

From the Heart of the Conflict: The Strike at Linamar's Gómez Palacio Plant and Its Global Implications

In the heart of Gómez Palacio, Durango, a labor crisis at the Linamar plant threatens to trigger global repercussions. This facility, crucial to the global automotive supply chain, faces a strike that could mark a significant economic turning point. As Malcolm Gladwell describes in his “tipping point” theory, small events can have disproportionately large global consequences. Conflict…

[hotvintagepoll]

Do you have any opinions on modern (post-1970s) movies that you feel capture the essence (in a good way) of Old Movies?

No, unfortunately. That doesn't mean I don't like modern movies or that modern movies aren't good, but modern movies—and here I'm really using modern to mean post-2010, so contemporary movies—have different standards for pacing, characterization, budget, and production that make it harder (or impossible) to capture some of the magic of old movies. Even when modern movies clearly try to emulate that old-movie feeling—I'm thinking of La La Land, The Artist, The Shape of Water, In the Heights—they play the homage too broadly, or they ignore crucial components that make the original films work.

There's kind of too much to go into here without writing a full essay, but essentially, the Old Hollywood system—ugly, failed beast as she was—made some movies simply more accessible to make, due to the ongoing storage of props, sets, master craftsmen, crew, and onscreen talent that could move from one movie to the next without pause. If you needed a dancer, he was already on staff. If you needed a fancy bed, it was already in the warehouse. That kind of longterm storage is invaluable if you want to crank out movies quickly and cheaply because it saves so much time on individual negotiation and sourcing. Modern production companies have to work out individual contracts for every actor on every film; crew members have to negotiate rental contracts and source pieces from scratch; if you need someone with specialist skills, you have to contract them specially at a high rate, which a lot of small companies can't (or won't) budget to do. There's sand in the wheels where there needn't be any. It's wasteful, and costly, but that's the system modern movies are made with.

Which all means that even if the modern movie system wanted to make a classic movie musical just like the old ones, they couldn't, because the talent isn't already there—it hasn't been trained up enough, and there's not that breadth of knowledge you can only get from people who have been allowed to work in the same department in the same place for decades. Movies like La La Land fail, for me, because they present themselves as descendants of Fred Astaire or Busby Berkley movies, while missing the bit where Fred Astaire was a master of his craft. When you watch Fred Astaire dance—or Moira Shearer, or the Nicholas Brothers, or Ann Miller—you are watching a true artist at work, purposely showcased by the studios because they already have them on contract. Modern movies, on the other hand, tend to take people who already have star talent (as actors) and try to convert them into dancers/singers—or they pull dancers/singers off of Broadway, but then they don't have the star power built in. You end up with lackluster musicals where no one truly knows what they're doing, or they do but they're not built up enough by the studios to sell. And that's me discussing just on-screen talent for musicals—there is a huge loss behind the scenes, as well, for all kinds of movies, where roles that would have been filled by union crew who moved continuously from one job to the next have been swapped for freelance labor who live with immense turnover, financial insecurity, and knowledge loss. You could hand me the budget and I could try to make an old movie, but the industry itself has changed so much it's impossible to recapture that charm of steady, niche talent, the amazing possibilities of bonkers set design, and the ability to take a risk on a smaller movie because the other films being produced by the same studio can help balance the budget.

I've talked way, way too much about all of this! Sorry, I just have a lot of thoughts—and the one above is just one of them; the talent loss and storage issues are only facets of a much bigger problem that extends to how we watch movies today, how we market them, what we expect of them, and what's allowed in them. It's a crying shame because the talent is still there, but times change and so does the industry, for better or for worse. (And, just again to clarify, I don't think modern movies are bad—they're just missing a lot of the juice old movies got to play with, even if there's more talent available than ever before.)

[violent138]

Hal Jordan quickly figured out Bruce Wayne was probably Batman. It started during a random, unscheduled repair job on one of the Justice League shuttles. They tried integrating some alien tech and something blew up, but on some of the surviving components, there's a Wayne Enterprises logo.

It's possible that WE supplied the parts, but Hal's found too many bits and pieces of Wayne tech that weren't even on the market all over the Watchtower, if Hal had to bet on who was paying for all this there were only a few candidates, and it made too much sense that Bruce Wayne of the magazine covers is a co-founder of the League.

[heeseungiez]

building keyboards! l.hs

pairing! lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis! in which you want to celebrate your one year anniversary with your boyfriend

genre! established relationship, fluff

word count! 1.2k

author’s note! i have been cursed by a keyboard obsession since before i even got into enhypen, so ofc i had to write something short and cute with heeseung

currently playing . . . highway 1009 by enhypen !

You met Heeseung entirely by chance. The two of you moved in completely different social circles, yet you somehow managed to find each other when it mattered the most. He was the popular guy on campus, whereas you were just a girl. A student trying to survive university life, juggling studying and a part-time job to keep yourself afloat.

The first time you met Heeseung was in the summer. After you managed to get through freshman year without failing a single class, you enjoyed your time off in a tech store, looking over different kinds of mechanical keyboards and computer components. You must’ve looked like an employee because Heeseung chose to approach you specifically to ask you a question about the new Keychron keyboards. And whilst you were not working at the store, you did know enough about the best, pretty affordable keyboards on the market. Including the new Keychrons. So you indulged him rather than telling him that you were not, in fact, working there.

Unbeknownst to you (he shared that later into your relationship), Heeseung continued going to the tech store during the summer in hopes of encountering you again, which was how he came to the conclusions that 1) you were truly not working there, and 2) he should’ve asked for your number.

It was only his luck that in the following winter semester, he happened to be a TA of one of the computer language classes you signed up for in your second year. He did not miss his chance to get to know you then, and the first time he asked you out was after the winter semester, when he was no longer the TA in your class.

It’s been a year since the two of you officially became boyfriend and girlfriend, and you got the most brilliant idea for how to celebrate your one year anniversary. It cost quite a good deal of money, but you knew it would be worth it in the end.

When you knocked on the door of Heeseung’s dorm room with two large plastic bags in hand, you knew he wasn’t home. However, at least one of his dorm mates should be, which was proven to you when Jay opened the door.

He looked at you with furrowed brows, and before he could tell you that Heeseung wasn’t there, you stopped him with: ���I know, he’s not here. That’s the point.”

You didn’t even wait for the man to invite you inside. Rather, you made your way past him, taking your shoes off and heading toward the living room area to place everything on the dining table they had.

“What exactly are you doing, Y/N?” Jay asked, standing in the hallway like a father of three children with his hands on his hips.

“Preparing a surprise for Hee,” you replied simply, unpacking your boxes with mechanical switches, keycaps, keyboard cases, brushes, lube (for the switches), foam, tape, switch and keycap pullers and many other items necessary for building and modding your own keyboard. Since Keychrons were Heeseung’s favourite, you mainly went for components of that brand, but you were personally a fan of Akko keyboards, so you sneaked in a few switches from them for more options, too.

“Are you planning to build keyboards with him?”

You hummed with a nod of agreement, grinning.

“What do you think?” You turn to Jay once you have everything set up on the table.

“That Heeseung’s a lucky bastard,” Jay murmured under his breath, and you giggled.

“So it’s good, right?”

“Duh.” Jay shook his head, staring at everything you prepared. “Are you trying to one-up him? ‘Cause I don’t think he can come up with anything better than this.”

You shrugged, smiling. “I don’t really care. Seeing him smile is all I need.”

Jay rubbed his face. “Lucky bastard,” he repeated again. “I’ll make sure he knows that.”

“You’re too sweet,” you said, checking the time. Heeseung should be home from his class in about fifteen minutes. You knew only because he had texted you the approximate time when he would get home after you told him you had a surprise for him.

“So sweet that I’m gonna get lost and leave you two here alone.” He nodded, going to his room to grab some things. “Just text me whenever you guys are done, so I know I can come home.”

“Sure, sure, will do,” you mutter while eyeing your work. Not that spreading miscellaneous keyboard components was hard work, but you were already fighting the urge to start building a keyboard without Heeseung here.

After Jay left, you were alone in the dorm room for about three seconds. Heeseung burst into the dorm room with his backpack hanging over one shoulder, eyes already searching for you since he probably ran into Jay on his way here.  

You smiled, watching him drop everything on the floor just to approach you.

“Surprise!” you exclaimed, pointing at the messy table.

Heeseung blinked at you, glancing between the keyboards and you in confusion. “What—”

“I have everything! And for modding, I have lube and foam and tape! Isn’t it awesome?” you asked, picking up each item you named.

Heeseung laughed at how innocently you said that despite its many possible meanings. Running a hand through his hair, he felt a swelling in his heart at the sight of your excited form over building keyboards. It was an interest you both shared, and he was eternally grateful for finding you over it every day. 

“You know—” he grinned, picking up the lube— “when you said you had a surprise for me, I didn’t think the only thing I’d be lubing today would be keyboard switches.”

You giggled, shrugging. “But you like it anyway, right?”

“I love it,” Heeseung said, grinning. “I love you,” he added, sitting down next to you at the table. “That’s what matters the most, right?”

Leaning toward you, he cupped your chin and connected your foreheads. You couldn’t stop smiling as your heart drummed in your ears, your whole body seeping with love for the man in front of you.

“I love you, too,” you replied, connecting your lips in a brief kiss. “But can we start with building our keyboards? I want to make mine sound creamy… or should I go for thocky? I can’t decide.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “I hope you know I don’t have much space in my room anymore.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it.” You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “Unless being able to play Twister in your room is a requirement.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “For the two of us? Might as well be.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you lightly slapped his shoulders, your cheeks heating up.

“Shut up,” you mumbled. 

Heeseung giggled, capturing your lips in another, longer and much sweeter kiss. 

“Thank you for all of this, though,” he said after, pointing at the setup. “My surprise suddenly seems lame.”

“What is it?” You pouted, curiosity taking over you.

“I’d rather not say right now.” Heeseung shook his head. “Maybe you’ll find out later.”

“That’s so mean.”

tag list! @moonpri (send an ask to be added to the permanent tag list!!)

[rachelamberprice]

i’m an amberprice before all, but chloe is one of my favorite characters of all time and i think the way they wrote the pricefield break up (and really the fact it exists at all, narratively) is ooc. chloe���s arc in lis1 shows she becomes very attached and fiercely loyal to her loved ones. to a degree most people just wouldn’t go. it would take military grade equipment to remove her from william, rachel, max and even joyce. the reason why she even offers to sacrifice herself also hinges upon that loyalty, hence how she brings up not wanting her mom to die. but she also knows the trauma max has gone through (that’s like life ruining trauma) to try and save her and she loves her for that in ways you couldn’t put into words

i agree with michel on this one

but even he conceded that it shouldn’t have happened, narratively

but anyway, to tack onto this, something about deck nine that really frustrates me is the way they sort of break life is strange down into these marketable “components”. you can see this both in the ads for the game and the game’s writing itself. they’re like “look, it’s a small town and a murder mystery! that’s what you want, right? look, some independent music! that’s the same thing, right?” and even their love interests feel phoned in/shallow that way. life is strange 1 (and even before the storm, which is theirs) didn’t have these marketable love interests that were commodified more or less. they just had organic characters that were organic to the story — max, chloe, rachel. none of them were there to be love interests specifically. they were there to tell the story that the creators had a lot of artistic passion/inspiration to tell. the indie music wasn’t chosen just to be novel and hipster, it was carefully chosen to tell the player even more things about the scene or its characters. “To All Of You” was commentary on how poorly female characters are written in american media and how they aren’t allowed their own complex emotions and portrayals because they’re dainty archetypes usually. the entire game flies in the face of that issue by showing us a cast of women who are more than just their traumas and the abuse they suffer to the men in the game. they’re allowed to be imperfect, angry, multi-faceted

then you have “Santa Monica Dream” which set the tone for what chloe had lost in her relationship with rachel. i mean, there’s so many examples

there was sooo much passion that went into crafting that game and none of it was like “oh, we’re checking boxes to please the publisher and market the game”. to be fair, the game was made first and then shopped to publishers. but even with LiS2, it had the same love and genuine care instead of just… marketable pieces forced in

and i don’t fault the devs for being forced to do some of this under square’s thumb and complying to do everything they can to keep the IP because they want to have jobs. how can i fault people just trying to feed their family and live? and even when corporate/capitalist shit has been ruining the lives of devs in the industry forever now, they’ve always asked us to keep buying and supporting games anyway because they don’t want to lose their livelihoods. they would suffer, not the higher ups at square. but the issue is complex. because at some point the product isn’t being made with a desire to make art anymore, and it’s also not being made with over 60% of the audience in mind… and a lot of us are poor or struggling too and don’t have the money to waste. so then we don’t support the game, fine. but it’s like… no one is winning here? the devs aren’t winning because they’re closer to losing the IP because fans are let down (and arguably kind of lied to in marketing), square is making less money as pre orders are canceled, fans are just getting these games without love/passion that are made under extreme stress because the workers are in awful conditions. no one is winning here. something has to give and if that means it’s voting with our wallets then…? i guess that’s what it comes to, right?

the game industry is less about art now and more about appeasing these rich people that are making demands and that sucks for everyone involved. it’s predatory on the devs and the fans. and this is without talking about the nazi the studio had employed. not even sure if he’s been let go yet. not that that’s the fault of the other people who are having to suffer working alongside him (and HR is usually corrupt in games anyway) but it’s still something to really consider when supporting a studio?

but anyway, my main point with this post was just to analyze the way deck nine’s LiS games have now turned into this “hit the check boxes, give them the murder mystery, manufactured love interest, music, etc” and to me that’s making the games worse than anything else. even the pricefield debacle aside

because at least before the storm felt like a story being told to tell the story and not like a “hey here’s a murder mystery with love interest 1 and 2”, which started happening with true colors

maybe this is like a melodramatic take though, idk. i mean, i love before the storm so it’s clear to me there’s people in D9 (or there were) that do care about the original story/world of LiS1 and want to make art. even if there are also some losers in the mix (the nazi… 😭) maybe there are some really redeemable things in double exposure that make it worth playing and also just worth more than the sum of its bad marketing and flaws. i didn’t like true colors much because it felt hollow a lot of the time (and rushed?) but yeah

[driftward]

FINAL DEPTH XIV: FATHOMDOWN

~An Absolute Complete Beginner's Guide To FFXIV Submersibles~

So, you've heard of submarines in Final Fantasy XIV and you want to get started on a fleet of your own, but have no idea what to do where to go or even how to start. Well don't worry there sailor, we'll get you from landlubber to salty sea-goer. This is an -absolute- beginner's guide, so we won't go into deep details, we just want to get your first submarine out the dock. It's not particularly difficult to get started, but there are a lot of steps, so take your time.

Actual guide beneath the cut

So, to get started, you will want to be part of an Free Company, and that Free Company will need to have a house. If this is not true, then submarines are not yet for you. I won't cover how to fix that, but you're all lovely people who can undoubtedly find a group of fellow maniacs willing to pal around with you.

If you are part of a Free Company, you will want to have a Rank in it that has pretty much full Company Workshop access. If your FC does not yet have a Company Workshop, go into the house, and find the door which allows you to buy rooms.

Company Workshop will be the first option. If your Free Company does not have one, an officer with the correct rank can buy one for some amount of gil. Once you have a Company Workshop, you will want to get 6 Mahogany lumber (gather Mahogany and turn logs into lumber, or buy it off the marketboard, just trust me on this we'll get to that in a moment). Go ahead and head inside, look around, get familiar with the place.

This is one of the first things you will want to take a look at, the Schematic Board. The Schematic Board is used to create recipes that the fabrication station will be able to use. Those 6 mahogany lumber will be useful now. I highly recommend using the schematic board, and going through the menu to find the Submersible Prototype I recipe, and go ahead and complete it. This will unlock the first submarine parts to be able to be constructed.

Right, so you hopefully have submarines unlocked. Our next destination is this, the fabrication station. This is what is used to actually make submarine parts. We will want a full Shark build.

This is going to be a LONG step, and I consider it the most complex logistically. To make a submarine, you will need a Submarine Hull, a Submarine Stern, a Submarine Bow, and a Submarine Bridge. If you put the 6 Mahogany Lumbar into the Schematic Board earlier, you should have access to the Shark parts for each of those subsystems (I have a lot more on my screenshot because I have been at this for a while). Go ahead and start building the Shark-class Pressure Hull.

This is a very long step. The fabricator will switch modes to construction, and submarine parts take a LOT of material. For the Pressure Hull, you will notice it takes 18 Walnut Lumber, 18 Spruce Lumber, 18 Iron Nails, and 18 Cobalt Ingots. That is just for the first phase. Each material has to be put in in chunks that are equal to 1/3 of the final desired size. So, for example, the Walnut Lumber will need 6 Walnut Lumber put in 3 times just for phase one.

When you finish a phase with all of its materials, the fabricator will ask if you want to advance to the next phase. Do so, and it will give you a new list of materials you will need to put in. At the end of the last phase, you can collect the submarine part.

This is an activity meant to keep an entire Free Company's worth of people busy, and will probably not be fast! If you do not want to deal with it, you can try your hand at just buying submarine components from the market board, but be warned. They're expensive!

You can gain some minor XP from doing this for your crafting jobs. I wouldn't bother. Also, you can put in HQ materials. Whether or not you do will not affect the final product in any way, shape, or form. The only thing it affects is that you might get a discount on later phases if you use HQ materials for earlier phases.

This is generally not worth the effort.

So, build or buy your submarine parts! Once you have a Shark Hull, Shark Stern, Shark Bow, and Shark Bridge, you're ready for the next step.

But first.

Somewhere in your FC housing area will be this guy, the Resident Caretaker. You will want to visit him to purchase some Ceruleum Tank (these an also be purchased from the mammet in the Company Workshop). Just buy a whole lot, you'll be going through them quickly. You will also want to buy a Dive Credit (possibly up to 3 Dive Credits for the first submarines, I actually am not sure).

Okay, back to the company workshop. We are now ready to make the magic happen.

Go ahead. Click it. You know you want to. You will see two options, Airship Management and Submersible Management. We want Submersible Management. Open that, and use your Dive Credits to purchase your first submarine slot.

If you have all four submarine subsystems in your inventory already, congratulations! Go ahead and equip them on that first submarine slot. If you already have ceruleum tanks, you can even send it out. All my submarines were out at the time I made this guide, so I have no screenshots of this step for you, but go ahead and mess around with it a bit. You won't be able to go very many places, so you can just make a route and send the submarine out.

And that's it. You are now a salty undersea going sea dog! Your submarine will take about a day for every trip it makes. Longer trips take longer. There is a lot to say about submarine stats and whatnot, but that's for more advanced guides. When the submarine comes back, it will probably bring back some loot. Take the loot, and send the submarine back out. Rinse, wash, repeat.

One final word - never ever disassemble a submarine. As your submarine increases in rank, it will have more capacity for more, better, and different parts. You can research those parts at the schematic board (more advanced schematics will require the stuff your submarine brings back from voyagers), and then build those parts in the fabricator, same as the first time. While a submarine is not deployed, you can reassign parts. But again, even if you are going to replace every single subcomponent, DO NOT DISASSEMBLE YOUR SUBMARINE! You will lose its rank and all of its bonus stats, and there is no reason to do so, ever.

Hopefully this guide is useful to someone! There are more advanced guides elsewhere that I will link if anyone is interested, but for now, this should be enough to get you off the ground. If you have questions, reblog them, put the questions in the body not in the tags so everyone can see, and I will reply with a reblog, and hopefully this will be a fruitful chain of launching many a naval career.

Happy submarining!

[catboybiologist]

Alright I can't finish this all in one sitting, but here's at least a bit of.... something? A word vomit? A prelude to smut about the eroticism of the machine? For all you robot, mecha, and spaceship fuckers out there. @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl that means you

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- something to interface with the hull, move the new titanium plates and particulates into place, have a living, growing mass interfacing with the steel so that the ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous interface with the hull full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, and integrating with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, and let them suffer and rot after disposal. So as far as the official record was concerned, they didn't have brains.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on a... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship. They were pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

But I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chasiss I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I strapped in to the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as the tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, that was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. But whatever reason that was, the best pilots were still the ones that knew both their ship, and the ship's brain. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers rooting them into the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on. ...?

"We got a scrap run."

^_^

:)

^_^

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and what Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time.

I punch the boost.

[thehomelybrewster]

1d8 "Free" Fantasy RPGs To Replace 5e At Your Table

D&D 5e sure is a roleplaying game, and it's one that I have enjoyed a lot. However, that doesn't mean that I'd recommend it automatically for other people. This has many reasons, which I won't elaborate here. It has also shaped the perception of TTRPGs significantly thanks to its market dominance, and not in a good way.

5e has a reputation for being an expensive, complex game, and 5e players fear that other RPGs might just be the same. That it's too much of a hassle and too much of a financial burden to switch systems.

So, to help 5e players pick out a different system, I've made this handy 1d8 rolling table to help them pick a fantasy TTRPG with a combat component that they can try instead!

Let's now go through these eight nine RPGs and see what's up with them, right below the "Keep reading" section!

I'll be listing some metrics like the page count for the rulebook(s), the core resolution mechanic, how complex the game is in terms of character creation & combat, and how well-supported the game is by their publisher and the community-at-large.

1. Cairn

Author: Yochai Gal

Release Year: 2020

Cost: Free PDF, printed copies cost between $3 to $10 depending on the print quality.

Page Count: 24

Website: https://cairnrpg.com/

Resolution Mechanic: 1d20 Roll Under system for ability checks/saving throws, attacks hit automatically, "fiction-first".

Action Economy: Movement + one action per round.

Characters: Random character creation, class-less and level-less, advancement based on "Scars" (suffering damage that reduces your HP exactly to 0)

Setting: Implied. Low-magic European-style fantasy; mysterious woodlands.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: Hit Protection and Ability damage instead of HP, Slot-Based Inventory.

Degree of Support: Very high. Available in fifteen languages (e.g. Spanish, Russian, Chinese, and German); full rules text is under CC-BY-SA 4.0; multiple published third-party adventures & supplements available; some official bonus material (e.g. bestiary, magic items/relics, and spells) is available for free on the website.

Addendum: An expanded 2nd Edition is currently on Kickstarter (ends April 26th 2024); Cairn is legitimately easy to learn, however the Hit Protection system and the connected Scars system is a very different abstraction to health and advancement compared to 5e.

2. Cloud Empress

Author: worlds by watt

Release Year: 2023

Cost: Free PDF of the rulebook and the creator-written sample adventure "Last Voyage of the Bean Barge", $20 for the print edition of the rulebook, $12 for PDF supplements, $25 for print + PDF supplements; free solo rules also available as PDF only.

Page Count: 60

Website: https://cloudempress.com/

Resolution Mechanic: d100 Roll Under system for stat checks/saving throws, critical successes or failures on doubles (11, 22, 33, etc.), 5e-style advantage/disadvantage, attacks generally hit automatically.

Action Economy: Two actions per round with no free movement.

Characters: Semi-random character creation, four classes ("jobs"), no rules for character advancement in the ruleset.

Setting: Specific. "Ecological science fantasy" heavily inspired by Hayao Miyazaki's "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind"; costly magic, giant insects, dangerous mushrooms; only human player characters.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: Damage points culminate in Wounds; Wounds and Stress as ways to track your character's physical and mental state; slot-based inventory system.

Degree of Support: Low-ish. Several official supplements exist, however third-party material is very sparse. May improve due to the recent establishment of a Cloud Empress Creators Fund, has a simple 3rd party license system.

Addendum: A supplement, "Cloud Empress: Life & Death" is currently on Kickstarter (ends April 26th 2024, yes, the same day as Cairn 2e) and as a disclaimer I even backed that current Kickstarter; Cloud Empress is built on the engine of the sci-fi horror RPG "Mothership"; clearly built for one-shots and short campaigns; has a wonderful resting system that encourages roleplay between players.

3. Iron Halberd

Author: level2janitor

Release Year: 2023

Cost: Free PDF of the rules; no print option available.

Page Count: 60

Website: https://level2janitor.itch.io/iron-halberd

Resolution Mechanic: 1d20 + Bonus Roll Over system against difficulty or armor rating, however most non-combat-related actions follow a fiction first approach without dice rolls.

Action Economy: Movement + one action per round.

Characters: Semi-random character creation, class-less but there are four different "gear kits" that nudge your character towards certain archetypes, levelling up with XP.

Setting: Essentially non-existant. General European fantasy with magic, gods may or may not exist/shape the world, various fantastic ancestries included.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: Includes rules for building strongholds and maintaining warbands; slot-based inventory with a durability mechanic.

Degree of Support: None. The game is intended to be relatively compatible with other OSR content and the creator suggests using adventures made for the D&D retroclone Old-School Essentials if you wanna use pre-published ones. An official introductory adventure, "Sea-Spray Bay", is apparently in the works. No 3rd party license available, as far as I know.

Addendum: One thing about Iron Halberd I like especially is how it uses random tables for generating equipment. Most of the equipment is listed in a numerical order by category, and the various gear kits include references on different rolling formulas for those equipment categories. For example someone taking the "soldier's kit" rolls twice on the d20 Weapons table and takes their preferred pick, while someone taking the "sage's kit" only rolls a d4 on that table.

4. Mausritter

Author: Isaac Williams

Release Year: 2020

Cost: Free PDF of the ruleset available; box set with the rules and several goodies including an adventure costs $55; additional box set + PDFs containing eleven official adventures costs $55 (or $20 digital-only).

Page Count: 48

Website: https://mausritter.com/

Resolution Mechanic: 1d20 Roll Under system, 5e-style advantage/disadvantage, attacks always hit.

Action Economy: Movement + one action per round.

Characters: Random character creation, class-less, levelling up with XP.

Setting: Vaguely specific. You play as mice and everything is related to mouse-size; cats are the equivalents of devils or dragons; humans exist as a setting background but may or may not be present in a campaign.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: Includes rules for recruiting warbands; slot-based inventory with a durability mechanic.

Degree of Support: Very high. Several official supplements exist, as well as loads of content, be it adventures or supplements, made by other creators. Available in seven languages (all of them however are European). Has a simple 3rd party license system.

Addendum: Mausritter uses the phrase "adventure site" instead of dungeons. On the website a free adventure site generator is available, as is a digital tool that can be used to generate your own item cards for the slot-based inventory system.

5. Maze Rats

Author: Ben Milton

Release Year: 2017

Cost: $4.99 for the PDF, no print option regularly available.

Page Count: 32

Website: https://questingbeast.substack.com/

Resolution Mechanic: 2d6 + Bonus Roll Over system; advantage system that uses 3d6 drop the lowest + Bonus.

Action Economy: Movement + one action per round.

Characters: Semi-random character creation, class-less but instead there are character features (e.g. spell slots or attack bonuses), levelling up with XP.

Setting: Essentially non-existant. Magic is very irregular (s. the section below), but otherwise it implies a vaguely European fantasy setting.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: Spells are randomly generated each adventuring day and spell effects are negotiated between the GM and the spellcasting player; includes several fantastic d66 tables that can be used to randomly generate worlds.

Degree of Support: Decent. The rule text is licensed under CC BY 4.0 and unofficial translations are available. Some third-party content has been made specifically for the game.

Addendum: The only purchase-only game on this list. However "unofficial" distribution of the PDF is very common. Also this is the oldest game on the list. Ben "Questing Beast" Milton is a prolific OSR blogger and runs a YouTube channel on the OSR. Great dude.

6. Sherwood - A Game of Outlaws & Arcana

Author: Richard Ruane

Release Year: 2022

Cost: Free quickstart PDF titled "Sherwood - A Quickstart of Outlaws" available; digital rulebook costs $7.50 and the print edition (including PDF) costs $15.

Page Count: 25 (Quickstart), 32 (Rulebook)

Website: https://www.r-rook.studio/

Resolution Mechanic: 2d6 + Bonus Roll Over system for skill checks (including attacks), 2d6 Roll Under system for saving throws; advantage & disadvantage system that involves rolling 3d6 and using the higher/lower of the two results; almost all rolls are player-facing

Action Economy: "Conversational", assumption of movement + action.

Characters: Largely choice-based character creation. Combine two (of six) background abilities with the benefits of seven different careers. Big focus on interpersonal relationships during character creation. Limited character advancement takes place during downtime.

Setting: Specific. Takes place in a fantastical version of 13th century England, with fey and magic coexisting with outlaws and crusaders.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: The group of outlaws possesses two shared resources (Resources and Legend) that can be spent to gain certain benefits; spellcasting is divided into two categories: arcane talents and sorcerous rites, with the former being immediate and the later taking significant time; slot-based inventory.

Degree of Support: None. No further publications exist for the game and while it is published under the CC-BY 4.0 license, no third-party content exists as far as I know. It does include a guide on how to convert D&D and Troika (N)PCs into Sherwood characters, as well as three adventure seeds (one in the Quickstart, two in the rules), which is at least something.

Addendum: Might just be the game on this list that encourages the most roleplaying; the character sheet is sadly very provisional-feeling and the Quickstart feels outdated compared to the finalized rulebook.

7. The Electrum Archive

Author: Emiel Boven

Release Year: 2022

Cost: Free Rules PDF available, zines cost $12 as digital PDFs or $24 as print + PDF combos; the first zine contains the entire contents of the Free Rules PDF

Page Count: 26 (Free Rules), 72 (Issue 01)

Website: https://www.electrumarchive.com/

Resolution Mechanic: 1d10 Roll Under system, attacks always hit.

Action Economy: Movement + one action per round.

Characters: Largely choice-based; three archetypes roughly corresponding to fighters/rangers (Vagabonds), rogues (Fixers), and spellcasters (Warlocks); player characters are presumed to be human; levelling up with XP.

Setting: Specific. Mechanics heavily tie into the lore; humanity has abundant access to minerals but requires a rare substance known as Ink to operate certain pieces of tech (like guns) and cast spells but cannot produce Ink themselves; spirits of various sorts can be foes, targets of worship, or sources of power.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: Uses a spellcasting system for the Warlock archetype that's heavily based on the one used in Maze Rats, as in it uses randomly-generated spells whose effects are negotiated between the player and the GM; slot-based inventory with a durability mechanic.

Degree of Support: Minimal. The game consists out of the free rules and (soon) two zines; a third party license exists but content produced under it is very rare.

Addendum: I need to disclaim that I recently backed the Kickstarter campaign for the second zine for this game; the free rules feature wrong page numbers in its table of contents which is unfortunate; The Electrum Archive uses incredibly simple stats for NPCs which makes creating new ones based on other games rather simple.

8. Shadowdark RPG

Author: Kelsey Dionne

Release Year: 2023

Cost: Free player and game master quickstarts exist as PDFs and are available in print for $19, the core rules cost $28 in PDF form and $57 in a print + PDF bundle

Page Count: 68 (Player Quickstart Guide), 68 (Game Master Quickstart Guide), 332 (Core Rules)

Website: https://www.thearcanelibrary.com/

Resolution Mechanic: 1d20 + Bonus Roll Over system, 5e-style advantage/disadvantage, natural 1s are critical failures and natural 20s are critical successes.

Action Economy: Movement + one action per round.

Characters: Largely choice-based; players have a fantasy ancestry and a class; levelling up with XP; class progression largely random.

Setting: Vague. General (dark) western fantasy conventions apply; alignment is a force in this universe and a sample pantheon is provided; the most potent enemies in the rules are named individuals that fit classic TTRPG monster types; illustrations and lore snippets have recurring motifs.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: The key mechanic of Shadowdark is how the game handles light, namely that light sources are tracked in real time (i.e. a normal torch lasts 1 hour), which increases tension; slot-based inventory; has a 0th-level character creation option using an eliminationist "Gauntlet".

Degree of Support: Fantastic. Several official supplements and offically sanctioned digital tools exist; lots of third-party content available under a generous third-party license.

Addendum: Definitely the most similar game to 5e on this list besides the next entry; very robust mechanically and the Core Rules features extensive lists of magic items, monsters, and spells; also for early play giving your players only access to the quickstart is a totally valid choice; and finally, before Dionne made Shadowdark, she made 5e adventures for years and it shows (affectionate).

9. Pathfinder

Authors: Logan Bonner, Jason Bulmahn, Stephen Radney-MacFarland, Mark Seifter

Release Year: 2019 (initial release), 2023 (remaster)

Cost: Free and comprehensive SRD available via the platform Archives of Nethys, free "Pathfinder Primer" abridged rulebook available via the Pathfinder Nexus (powered by Demiplane), Core books are priced $20 for PDFs and $30/$60 for print as a softcover/hardcover; a Beginner Box set with shortened soft-cover rules costs $45

Page Count: 464 (Player Core), 336 (GM Core), 376 (Monster Core), 160 (Combined Beginner Box Softcovers)

Website: https://paizo.com/pathfinder

Resolution Mechanic: 1d20 + Bonus Roll Over system, 5e-style advantage/disadvantage, four degrees of success based on result compared to target number.

Action Economy: Three action points per round; various actions may require more than one point; every character can use one reaction per round of combat.

Characters: Choice-based; players first pick an ancestry and a background and a class (the ABCs) and then tend to have meaningful choices after each level-up; levelling up with XP.

Setting: Important. Golarion, the game's setting, is a world that has been long in development and it shows; powerful magic and influential gods; very clear notions of what the societies of the various peoples of the world are like and how they should behave.

Other Noteworthy Mechanics: Balance between character classes and reliable combat challenge calculations are an important design goal; weight-based inventory system; archetype system for "multiclassing".

Degree of Support: Fantastic. Loads of content gets regularly produced by the game's publisher Paizo; the Pathfinder Infinite program (similar to D&D's Dungeon Master's Guild) provides lots of lore-compliant third-party content; uses the ORC third-party license for content produced outside of the Pathfinder Infinite program. Translations into other languages available but Paizo does not provide a comprehensive list of available languages (only German and French confirmed after brief personal research).

Addendum: The most popular and commercially successful of the listed games; but also by far the most complicated, though it is easier to GM for specificallty than 5e; also I dislike how certain feats create situations where fairly mundane actions get mechanics through these feats instead of being things you can generally do; anyway the reason why it's a 9 on a 1d8 table is because if you wanted to try out Pathfinder 2e you already would have and because while Paizo is better than WotC it's still a flawed big company.

...

So this was an exhausting little project. I hope you found this helpful and I hope you give at least one of these games a shot! A follow-up to this post is not out of the cards, but I don't plan on one.

Before we go, have this poll about which of these systems you're most looking forward to try! Shame it can only be open for one week...

[chryza]

How to make money in this godforsaken anime game because I promise it’s not hard

Tips for everyone:

Universalis is free and not against TOS because it’s a website. Use this to easily see what things are selling on your world.

You should be sending your retainers out on ventures as often as you can. Send them out on explorations to get stuff to trade in for GC seals that can be used to purchase items from the quartermaster that sell well on the Marketboard as well as More Ventures. Or just send them out directly to get stuff.

Wondrous Tales has a decent payout on top of the exp boost. It’s not a lot but it’s free. Make sure you’re saving your Gil bags tho for>>

Doman Restoration in the Doman Enclave, at max level, will net you 30k gil per week. It’s not a lot but it takes five minutes a week. Use the gil bags to easily fill out your donation basket and don’t worry about canon.

Leve quests don’t pay a LOT comparatively but they are a reliable source of income for any job.

Do ur hunts. Not because this will make you gil. But because this will save you gil. Literally just slay the elite mark that week for a couple expansions, and spend your hunt tokens on aetheryte tickets. Never spend 2000 gil teleporting from Sharlayan to Radz-At-Han again.

If you like running instanced content:

Adventurer in need bonuses are not one time only. They persist even after your daily reward has been claimed

Roll on everything. Turn that into your grand company for seals. Use seals to purchase items. Sell these items. Ta-Da

Same thing for tomestones. Go buy shit from the vendors in the small cities with your poetics, and current tomestone mats will always sell well

If you like rping

Get a job. I’m serious. Clubs are always hiring wait staff and backend folks (no ERP required). I’m sure people who are in this scene know more about it than me.

ERP pays well my guy

If you like crafting/gathering

It doesn’t matter what level you’re at. Go to your crafting log. On the left hand side is three tabs marked with a stair, a bag with a star, and a book. Click into the bag menu. Scroll down to housing. Look what you can craft. See what’s selling. Purchase what materials you don’t have so long as you make a profit. Congrats.

Send your retainers out to gather items for housing crafts. Or just the mats directly and sell those. Do a little research into what free companies use for things like airship and submersible voyages/components and farm that

If you are maxed out, remember HARM—Housing, Aethersand, Raiding supplies, intermediate Materials. It can be difficult to sell gear because of market saturation, but the materials to make gear are always in high demand, especially those tricky intermediate crafts. Selling raid food and tinctures is easy money.

Diadem. Skybuilder mats sell well. Like. REALLY well. And you can hop into the diadem with a really low level. Have fun.

Speaking of the firmament, your skybuilder scrips are basically worth a fortune. Almost everything you can exchange for skybuilders scrips sells super well on the market.

Do your custom deliveries. It really doesn’t take long. Do whatever you want with the scrips. Materia always sells well.

The end

[seat-safety-switch]

A friend of mine used to build aquariums for rich people. Every day, he'd bumble on down to the office and start meticulously assembling some intricate sub-component of a whole-ass ecosystem. Once it was done, they'd fill his work with water, carry it away, and charge hundreds of thousands of dollars to throw some fish in it. I think his tale is a cautionary one.

My friend's reward for all this hard work and artistry was to get screwed. His boss wholly depended on his labour (building aquariums, stocking fish, laying out little plastic castles) but seized most of the gains for himself instead. Eventually, my friend quit, and went to work at a much better job selling cameras. Obviously, the moral of this story is that people who own fish are inherently untrustworthy.

To entrap fish in a box is to sin against nature. Fish live outdoors. If you want to see some, you can go by your local lake and watch seagulls pick them up out of the water. Stay all day, if you like. That fish would have no appreciation whatsoever if you were to, say, put a little animatronic diver in his tank, making bubbles that reflect the beautiful, subtle lighting of the arrangement.

Ever wondered about why the newspapers seem so in favour of rich people all the time? Think back to the name that hokey 1920s scam artists give them: "fishwrap." That's right. Newspapers have been in the pocket of Large Trout since time immemorial, all in the hopes that they can curry favour with their bemoneyed ichthyoid masters.

I have a lot of other anecdotal stories about friends who have been betrayed by fish, also. Did you ever wonder why Tokyo was forced to move its famed Tsukiji Fish Market? It certainly wasn't because of the smell. No, it was all about real estate. Those fish-bothering greedheads figured out that they were sitting on top of some primo, yet absolutely stinky, property. They decided to get rich, at the expense of their workers, who now have to haul enormous catches of fish to a different part of the bay. Once again, fish did this.

[avocadoguru]

He was staring at her in a way no one had in her entire life. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes - not surprise, not fear, not malicious intent - nothing. (wolfrry, werewolf!harry, alpha!harry, ranger!y/n)

Lupus Noctis- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 4 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 5 (word count: 14k)

Harry walked to the trailhead nearest Y/N’s apartment and the moment he entered the thick of the forest he shifted and began to bound through the woods toward his community. He missed his big bed and his nice house. But he didn’t particularly miss the members of his pack.

His community was within the preserve, well hidden. A road that led from the center of the village out to just beyond Silver Wolf Preserve was hidden and gated and led to a back road that eventually connected with a rural street that led into the city. No one had ever found it because it was well concealed. And if Harry's kind was good at anything it was the ability to disguise. They were masters at hiding in plain sight and their clever tactics meant that no human had ever found their safe haven in the preserve.

Many of the homes were small and simple, but the leaders and the noble members had nicer ones. Harry’s was amongst the nicest. His pack was mostly self-sufficient, though they did rely on working with humans for money and had to interact with humanity often. 

The village ran on solar energy and natural resources to get power electricity. And their satellites provided internet just like a modern human community. The difference was, that everything they used was built and made by all the pack members themselves. No outsiders had been brought in.

Walking into the village you’d think it was a regular town. Shops, markets, houses, parks, a school, and a town center with a community building. But many times, his members would leave and visit the city and go to supermarkets or malls to buy things they wanted. They also worked among humans doing various menial jobs. Some were office workers, others construction, and some even worked for the government - all under the guise of being a human. 

But of course, technically, he was part human. He identified mostly as human, but just better. He had all the components of a man and the genetics (plus a few extra mutations which allowed him to shapeshift). He also felt emotions like a human and now, for the first time ever, found himself attracted to one.

“Alpha! How goes it?” 

Harry was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of one of the pack members just as he was getting close to his house without being seen. He thought he’d gotten lucky. But of course, everyone was always on the lookout for him. And they could smell him. 

“Things are well, Daniel,” he spoke quickly as he kept walking, hoping to avoid a conversation. He knew he smelled of the girl. He’d already thought of an explanation for it if he was asked. And it wouldn’t be too crazy for anyone in his pack to come back smelling like a human. They had to work with them after all. But he knew the smell of Y/N was strong on him after their proximity at her apartment not an hour earlier. 

The man asked a few questions about the upcoming meeting but nothing about the obvious smell of the female human on him.

After answering what he could, Harry waved at the man, “I’ve got to get going. It was nice to chat with you, Daniel.”

Harry stepped through his front door and sighed once it was closed behind him. The silence inside his house was welcome. He was glad he declined to have help around the house. It was offered to him upon taking up the title of alpha. He could have had a live-in staff but he didn’t feel that was necessary. He liked his privacy. Instead, he opted for help only on certain days of the week while he was not home. 

And now that he was finally alone, he needed to take care of the physical ache in his body that had been pushed down since the night before. 

Harry threw his clothes in the washer immediately and jumped into the shower in his state-of-the-art en suite bathroom to get rid of any remaining traces of her.

He let the water pour over him, resting his forehead against the tiles and trying to get it together. 

He grabbed himself, moaning when he squeezed slightly, and felt some of the tension leave his body. He’d been hard ever since he left her apartment. Hell, he’d been hard most of the time she’d been in his proximity. 

As he stroked himself languidly, he asked himself yet again- what was it about this human that drew him to her so much? He just couldn’t understand why he was reacting to her that way. He’d been through this before, trying to get to the bottom of it in his head, and he never could understand why she had this hold on him.

Growing up, of course, he’d always known about mates and their bond. That was deeply ingrained in his brain, was what he’d been taught all his life. But she was human. Surely this couldn’t apply to them.

Yet, the way he felt about her, the way he responded to her, physically as well as emotionally, without knowing much about her even– 

Argh. Stop it, you bloody fool.

But images of her were swarming in his head. She’d let her guard down, she’d been vulnerable with him, both while slightly inebriated and later on, in the evening, when the alcohol had worn off… 

He’d resisted her all day, all those glances and remarks and even the way he knew she was heavily turned on, maybe just as much as he’d been, after all- he had the advantage of smelling it on her, and then, finally… he’d had her right there in his arms. Willing, and pliant in his hands. She’d left it up to him to make the final move, and he loved that- loved that she seemingly backed down a bit and let him take control where it mattered. He was a dominant creature, yes, but he found that he enjoyed the way she challenged his authority. Still, she recognized when to give over the reins to him completely, and it made it all the more enticing.

He could still feel her under his fingertips, the way they sunk into her plump skin, the way he could feel her whole body tingling in anticipation under his hold. And the way she would throw her head back and elongate her neck, offering it up to him like that… it was as if she knew what he’d be doing if he had his way, as if she knew he’d sink his canines into her delicate flesh there and mark her as his mate. 

It was as if her body knew. As if she were his mate.

He groaned, speeding up his movements, he was close, so close, and envisioning her underneath him like that, or even previously when she’d sucked his fingers into her mouth, he could only imagine her taking him down her delicate throat. She’d struggle, and gag and her eyes would no doubt tear up, he knew no male human came close to his girth and length, but she’d beg for it, she’d drool for him until he’d give her what she wanted. Until he’d coat her throat with his release and she’d moan and roll her eyes back in ecstasy when she’d finally bring him to climax.

Instead, he wasted all that precious load on the tiles of his shower and winced at the loss. 

He finished cleaning up and patted dry, plopping into the big, plush bed in his den that he’d missed so much. Maybe he was nearing his rut. This was entirely unusual behavior on his part. Now that he’d orgasmed he did have a bit more clarity of mind.

Maybe he should show that alpha female that had been eyeing him heavily a good time, get his mind off things for a change. What was her name… 

Great, he couldn’t even remember the name of his supposed mate- or at least- that’s what people were expecting her to become. Ever since he’d had to step into his late brother’s shoes and take over ruling over the pack, everyone was putting so much pressure on him to mate and start procreating. As if that was the most important aspect of being a pack leader; ensuring lineage.

Even so, Harry believed the rightful heir was Edward, his nephew. He was far too young right now- but he was his father’s son, and Harry was planning to step aside when the time came for him to finally come of age and take over. It was the right thing to do, it was what his brother would’ve wanted. Harry was an alpha, but he wasn’t meant to be a pack leader. It hadn’t been his destiny, having been second born, and he firmly believed Edward was meant to be the future leader. He was just going to ensure the interim.

However, the way the pack was treating his nephew was severely lacking. He could tell people didn’t feel the same way at all. In their eyes, Edward would never be worthy of taking over because of how he’d gotten stuck in his wolf form. But they didn’t understand this was temporary, Harry knew the young one would be able to shapeshift again- he was just stuck, the shock of it all hadn’t worn off. After all, he’d been there that night his parents had been killed right before his eyes- the poor child had shifted into his wolf form in an instinctual effort to protect his parents, but of course, he was no match- his wolf form was a mere pup. 

But even so, his instincts had been highly attuned to the danger of the situation. He’d done right by his parents. Which said a lot about his strength of character, even at such an early age. Unfortunately, though, he hadn’t been able to switch back ever since. And especially since he couldn’t communicate in this form, Harry knew there was a lot of unprocessed trauma there, things he couldn’t get off his chest, and as much as Harry had tried to comfort him and encourage him to shift back, it seemed as though he had an emotional blockage he simply couldn’t get past. Or maybe he genuinely didn’t want to shift back… 

Unfortunately, that also meant that the pack was questioning Edward’s abilities to be a proper leader one day. To them, he was considered to be underdeveloped and even seen as a bad omen. 

Of course, nobody would dare say all these things to Harry’s face about his nephew. But he could hear people talk when they thought no one was around or thought he wasn’t listening. As an alpha, his senses were a lot more acute than others’.

He could also hear them questioning his own abilities to rule over them.

He knew they thought he was much too young at 25 to take on this huge task. And some argued he was never meant for this, having been secondborn. He couldn’t blame them, since he felt the same way. But that didn’t mean he was happy about it, or that he would allow anyone thinking like that about their alpha. Whether they liked it or not, he was their leader, and he wanted to do right by his late brother in doing what he could to ensure the pack’s survival.

He just wished things were different.

Sometimes… he wished he could just live a life he’d choose for himself, not one that’d been forced onto him by fate.

He envied his good friend, Niall. He’d renounced the pack and taken off on his own. A lone wolf. People were calling him a renegade, but Harry looked up to his courage and perseverance. 

He was determined to live life on his own terms, in the human world. Fend for himself, after having given up the pack’s protection, knowing that if he somehow put the secret of their existence in jeopardy he’d still have to face the consequences. And Harry admired the shit out of him for having the courage to live the life he wanted.

He wished he could do the same.

Maybe, that way–

But no. Harry couldn’t go there. He couldn’t set himself up for heartache like that, envisioning any kind of future with the girl. Simply because he knew- she would never want him once he told her the truth. She couldn’t possibly understand that he was… different. In fact, it was unlikely she even believed in such things. Most humans didn’t. The ones that did were made fun of or called crazy. To humans, his kind was a myth, a story told in fiction books and movies full of other mythological creatures. He was a fable. His kind didn’t exist in much of the world. And he would never keep such a horrendous truth from her, it wouldn’t be right to rob her of knowing the full extent of what she’d be getting into with him. Harry was a beast with inhuman ability and the occasional violent tendencies (only when necessary of course) and she was a normal person that was leading a normal happy life. Even if it wasn’t forbidden for him to allow himself to indulge in her the way he wanted, he couldn’t do that to her. It could potentially ruin her life. And that was the last thing he wanted. It was just as much for her own good as it was for his. He could only imagine her look of horror and disgust, the same way he’d imagined it when she mentioned how his eyes were turning golden. He imagined himself shifting in front of her and her being horrified, and he could never unsee it now. She’d think he was a monster. And he couldn’t bear her looking at him that way.

They simply weren’t meant to be.

*

Y/N was pissed. At first, she was hurt, embarrassed… but the more she thought about it, the more she figured that he must have a girlfriend or even a wife. That could be the only answer as to why he reacted the way he did. They were just about to kiss. She knew he was feeling the pull and the sexual tension she was. She could tell by the way he was breathing and the way his eyes took her in. The way he touched her, his fingers lingering and even squeezing at her sides. 

So the only explanation for him to stop like that was that he was feeling guilty. And what else would have a man feeling so guilty in a situation like that? It had to be the answer. 

And she felt like she needed an answer too because his abrupt change in demeanor had her head spinning. It made no sense otherwise. 

But then where was this supposed girlfriend last night? And that day at the lake. Or the night in the woods when she first saw him. And what about the pup and that cabin? She saw nothing that suggested a female’s presence in any way. 

The more she pondered the situation the more confusing it became. And the deeper she started getting with her thoughts the less she believed he actually did have a girlfriend or significant other. 

She even went so far as to imagine that he was involved in some shady mafia-like organization that led to him needing to hide out in an off-grid cabin deep in the forest. But that still wouldn’t explain why he ran out so suddenly. So then what was it?

Shaking her head of her thoughts that were only going in circles, she sent a text off to Nick and her boss in a group text saying she needed the following day off to recover because she’d twisted her ankle and had planned on getting it looked at.

With that out of the way, she determined it was time to find a doctor for her foot, now that Harry was most likely not going to take her to see his. And then her mind wandered once again to the fact that Harry had driven her car so he was without one when he left her apartment. 

She shrugged to herself. Not my problem.

It turned out that looking for a doctor that specialized in orthopedics was not a very easy task. Especially one that might have an opening the following day. 

Giving up her chore she gently limped into her living room and settled on her couch to binge-watch the new television series she’d just started. She needed to get her mind off the tall man with pretty eyes. Junk TV would be the answer. She hoped.

*

A heavy knock at her door startled her as she sat up from her couch. Where she’d been since the night before. Well, she had gotten up to make tea and hopped around to do things that were necessary (like brushing her teeth and using the bathroom), but otherwise, she stationed herself on her couch. The bed and what had (almost) happened there would’ve haunted her dreams, she could still smell him in her room.

Hopping toward her door she looked out the peephole and the sight of the person on the other side of her entry had her even more startled than the knock he issued moments prior.

She considered not answering and just ignoring the intrusion. It wasn’t even 9 am and yet he was at her door.

Slowly she opened the door, not allowing him to have a full view of her body. She was still in her sleep clothes and her hair was messy while he was fully dressed and looking fresh. Did he ever not look perfectly put together?

“What are you doing here?”

Harry looked at her with confusion, “I told you I was going to take you to my orthopedician. Are you ready?”

Y/N looked down over her body and then back to Harry, “No. Of course not. I didn’t think you were actually going to show up…” 

Harry huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Okay. Well, get dressed. The appointment is in thirty minutes.”

Y/N blinked her eyes in puzzlement and opened the door up a little further, “Uh… I didn’t know– you… I mean, after yesterday I thought…”

Harry raised his brows as he feigned confusion but then stepped into her apartment when she finally gave in and opened her door the rest of the way.

He could tell right away that she’d been sleeping on her couch, “You shouldn’t be sleeping on your couch. That’s a good way for you to hurt your ankle yet again.”

Y/N closed the door but just stood in place. Was he really here? Like nothing had happened? Was she dreaming? What was going on?

Harry turned to look back at the girl, “What? I told you I was coming. You should have been ready. Go do what you need so we can leave and make it on time.”

She was at a loss. She hadn’t expected to see him again. She thought that was it when he walked out of her door the day before. But here he was with soft curls, a sheer silk shirt, those haunting green eyes, and of course, the heeled chelsea boots. But today’s boots were gold. He was wearing gold chelsea boots. 

“Yeah, but–”

Harry took a step forward, “Do you need help or something? We’re wasting minutes discussing my being here. We’ll be late.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at how he so easily dismissed her concern. She really wanted to mouth off to him after that remark- do you need help or something? But instead, she bit her tongue and decided it was a good opportunity to get a doctor to look at her ankle since she’d been unable to find one the night before. She hobbled to her room, closing the door behind her to get ready as fast as humanly possible.

Harry looked around her living room and on her coffee table he spotted an empty mug with two used tea bags next to it lying atop a spoon. He noticed a book and upon picking it up breathed a laugh through his nose when he recognized the title. It was one he read himself not so long ago. Putting the book back down on her coffee table he folded her blanket and draped it over the back of her couch and then picked up the empty mug and the tea bags and brought them to her bare kitchen, finding the trashcan under the sink and placing the dirtied dishes in her sink.

The truth was, Harry knew why she was acting like she was. But he wasn’t going to discuss that with her. He didn’t want to get into why he was actually there or how they left things the day before. 

He had considered not showing up. It was better to just leave it as it was. It would have been exactly what he wanted in the first place. It would have solved everything for him.

But even after he spurted his come onto the tiles in his shower the day before after imagining what she’d look like on her knees before him with his prick stuffed into her pretty mouth it didn’t actually quell his thoughts of her. It only made them worse. So then he began thinking of her in other positions as he did mundane tasks around his house, made some calls, prepared a draft for the new proposal he'd go over at the upcoming meeting, and even got a hard workout in- all to get his mind off of her.

But the moment he stopped moving and sat for a moment he couldn’t help but feel something. What? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. And he even regretted putting his shirt in the wash because then that meant he wouldn’t be able to have her smell near him when he snuggled into his bed for the night. 

He imagined allowing her to ride him with her palms down on his chest holding herself up. Normally he preferred taking the dominant position on top but the thought of having her wriggle over him and attempt to take him in that position, sliding herself down over him, was even more appealing since he was particularly curious how she would handle him. But amongst all of his dirty thoughts at the forefront of his mind was the look on her face as he backed away from her before their lips could even meet, and knocked over her little porcelain figurine. She was hurt.

He hurt her. And that was what eventually had him disregarding his own good senses. For some reason, the idea that she was hurt because of him wasn’t sitting right, not to mention she was actually hurt and needed his help to drive her to the doctor. He'd promised her.

When Y/N opened her bedroom door, Harry peeked down the hall to see her slowly limping toward him. Wearing shorts and a sweater and a tennis shoe on one foot, she had her hair pulled back into a ponytail which showcased her full neck to him. 

Harry scolded himself for the kind of thoughts that something as innocent as her neck invoked. And he even took care of himself before leaving his home that morning in hopes of keeping his reaction to her at a minimum.

*

“The doctor will see you now,” the receptionist smiled at the two of them in the waiting room and Y/N smiled back curtly while Harry blew an exaggerated huff, promptly standing up and helping the girl off her chair.

“There he is–”

“Right. There I’ve been, for the past 20 minutes. You were supposed to see us at half past.”

The man shrugged smilingly, “That’s why it’s called being a patient. ‘Cause you have to be patient.”

“Harry…” Y/N widened her eyes at him suggestively and then cast her gaze back on the man sitting at his desk “It’s alright, doctor. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, I really appreciate it.”

“Please, call me Niall. All of Harry’s friends are my friends. And you must be one hell of a friend for him to be pulling strings like this, eh? He never asks for favors.”

The girl stammered while Harry glared at him, “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it. I’d call it you owing me, but we’ll let it slide. For now.”

“Yeah. That definitely sounds more like you…” Y/N muttered under her breath and Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. 

“We’ll reconvene on this,” the young man laughed. “Let’s see what seems to be the problem, eh? Sit on there for me, will you?”

Y/N did as instructed, and laid her affected leg on the examination bed, reaching to take her sock off but Harry beat her to it. She noticed the young man raise his eyebrows at that as he approached them but switched over quickly to the good-humored expression he always seemed to be sporting.

He palpated her ankle carefully, then further up along her calf, and then called in an assistant to take Y/N over to the X-ray room so he could have a full picture of what was going on.

Harry wanted to take her in himself but the assistant assured him she had it covered, which earned her a small grunt in return.

“Thought this was someone from the pack, but clearly our dear patient appears to be oh so very human. Could’ve given me a heads up, maybe? Would have hated to slip something about her injuring herself during shifting or something and giving you the satisfaction of ending me right there and then, alpha.”

“Maybe it was a test.” Harry couldn’t help but smirk at his friend. Truth was, he trusted Niall with his life. It’s why he allowed for him to go live his life the way he intended to outside the pack. He knew he’d never do anything to endanger the pack. 

“Well, hope I passed. So what’s the deal with this chick, then?”

Harry peered out the window, “How long does an X-ray take?”

“You really gonna ignore all my questions about her?”

“Do you think it’s fractured?”

Niall laughed incredulously, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Harry furrowed his brows, “Is it?”

“It’s probably just a sprain but I wanna be extra sure- for you. As a favor. So does the pack know they’re gonna be taking orders from a human soon?”

“Didn’t you just say she must be one hell of a friend?” Harry glared at him.

“You don’t have friends. I’m your only friend, that is.”

Harry resumed looking out the window, “Maybe some torn ligaments?”

“I’d be surprised. What kinda sex positions are you bending her into for her ankle to sprain like that though–”

Niall’s laughter came to a sudden halt when Harry flashed his golden eyes at him, “She’s human, as you so keenly observed, doctor. What do you take me for?”

“I mean. It’s not forbidden. Or if it is, then I’m afraid I have some explaining to do…”

“Well, you’re not an alpha, are you? I, however… would probably break her.”

“So you have thought about it.” Niall beamed, pleased with himself. “I know you’re oh so much bigger and stronger as an alpha, but your human form she can take, I assure you. If you were looking for medical clearance in that regard,” he winked at his friend and the latter scowled.

“I’m not,” Harry warned.

“Mhmmm… I’m sure you’re not. But just in case at some point, you know… there’s no reason you two couldn’t have a little fun. You definitely can’t get her pregnant, since she’s human so that’s just physically not possible.”

Harry didn’t know why, but hearing he couldn’t get her pregnant if he tried felt like a pang in his chest. He’d suspected as much himself, of course, what with them being practically different species. But this was just another reason not to pursue her in the grand scheme of things.

“Just think of that as a bonus! Maybe don’t knot in her though. Would hate for the alpha himself to deconspire our sacred secret.” Niall realized he should shut up when Harry began to emit a low growl.

The assistant brought Y/N back into the office and handed Niall the X-ray, and he immediately placed it over the negatoscope. “Okay, good news my dear. Everything looks great, bone-wise. I’ll prescribe you something for the swelling to go down faster, but maybe just keep weight off of it for a couple more days. Then resume walking as normal, but nothing too strenuous for a week or two.”

“Oh… at all? I’m glad it’s nothing serious, but do you think taking all these extra precautions is necessary then? My work kinda demands I walk quite a lot… on uneven terrain.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m a forest ranger.”

Niall looked up at her, interrupting writing down her prescription, “Oh. Interesting. Over at Silver Wolf?”

“Yeah.” she smiled, “Have you been?”

Niall smiled to himself, resuming his writing, “Oh, yes I have. Grew up around those parts, pretty much.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

Niall shot Harry a knowing look, handing him the prescription since he was standing closer to the desk then looked back over to her, “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to ask your colleagues to fill in for you on ground duties for a bit, Y/N. Otherwise, it’s gonna take ages to recover. Not to mention you're prone to injuring yourself again. Alright? I’m sure you can arrange something. Officer.” He winked at the girl and she smiled back, then he walked them out of the office, with Harry avoiding making eye contact til the very end when the two shook hands and he made sure to remind his friend of the difference in strength between an alpha and a beta.

Once they were back in the car things were silent again. Glancing over toward the girl he wondered what was going through her mind. He preferred her little attitude rather than her silence. It led him to think that he actually had hurt her in some way by leaving so abruptly the day before. But that was for the best. For both of them.

Yet here he was once again, testing the waters, so to speak. Why was he doing this to himself? He probably knew the answer to that. It was hard to admit that he was feeling this way for a human. But no one else had piqued his interest the way Y/N had. 

Harry helped her back to her front door but was quick to say his goodbyes, mentioning he had things to do, which he did of course. Edward had been left alone for too long and as much as he wouldn’t mind sticking around with Y/N a little longer, his nephew was his immediate priority.

Y/N couldn’t figure the man out. Just the day before he’d run out on her and left her in a very vulnerable position. And then he showed up the very next morning acting as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t had his hands on her legs and pressing the pads of his fingers into her waist. As if he hadn’t been looking at her with the same longing she felt in her chest.

But he didn’t even come in after he helped her to her door. In fact, he didn’t do much in the way of any sort of signal that he was interested. He’d barely even spoken to her on the car ride back to her house other than to ask her for her ID when they stopped at the drive-through pharmacy to pick up her prescription. She tried not to let the small bit of disappointment that was simmering in her tummy surface at that thought. Maybe she’d misread everything and the brushes of his fingers on her skin and the look in his eyes were all in her head. She couldn’t wrap her mind around why she found that dispiriting. Because she barely even knew him. She didn’t need to get involved with someone like him. Someone who was likely involved in something illegal.

Sitting down on her couch she realized her mug and tea bags weren’t on her coffee table, and the blanket she’d been cocooned in before Harry arrived was neatly folded and draped over the back of her couch.

Huh, that’s weird. 

She knew Harry must have done it because she hadn’t gotten around to cleaning before he showed up. This kind gesture was just another thing to add to the list of her confused feelings.

She wondered what Harry was doing that had him leaving so quickly. Maybe he really did have things to do like he said. She imagined him driving up to some sketchy abandoned warehouse in his crazy expensive Mercedes G-Wagon he’d picked her up in. She shook her head with a laugh. He was a mystery for sure. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was actually up to. 

*

When Harry was about 100 yards from his cabin he smelled a distinct scent. It was faint but familiar. It was the scent of the girl. He knew it was because she’d been in his bedroom and lying on the fabric of his blankets and pillows, but he hadn’t expected that specific scent. 

He licked his lips and walked through his front door to see Edward on the couch with his ears perked but Harry could barely pay attention to the pup because her smell was overwhelming to him. It shouldn’t have been that strong. Not that particular one anyway. 

Following his nose to the bedroom, he wasn’t surprised the fragrance was coming from inside the room. He crawled onto his bed and inhaled picking up only trace hints of the smell he was honing in on. If it wasn’t coming from the blankets on his bed…

Another sniff led him toward the floor in the space between the wall and the bed. He put his feet down on the floor and crouched. There was a piece of blue fabric under the bed. Harry reached for the sacred garment, knowing exactly what it was. He’d seen it on her the day before and now it was lying on the floor in his bedroom.

Harry’s salivary glands began to react immediately and he huffed as he clenched his teeth. Without a single rational thought in his mind, he brought the blue panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. The flavor overwhelmed his senses. He sighed and inhaled again, his heart beginning to pound wildly.

Harry plopped down on his bed and raised the panties up so he could get a good look. Basic bikini style in a cotton blend. Nothing like what he’d seen in the dresser at her apartment. These were her more practical panties but to Harry, there was nothing plain about them. He lifted the crotch upward and turned the material inside out to press his nose into the spot that had been sitting against her skin for many hours. 

It was delightful. It was the best thing he’d come across in a long time (aside from Y/N herself). He smiled when he permitted his tongue to taste the fabric and he panted, a small whine falling from his throat just before he began to vibrate with a purr. 

He forced himself to pull the panties away from his face when a very different kind of whine interrupted his delicious train of thought.

His nephew was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, no doubt expecting to spend some time with his uncle having been all by himself for longer than what he was used to. The accusatory look in the young one’s eyes made Harry stuff the panties deep into his pants’ pocket and stand up abruptly. 

“I’ll go get us something to eat, alright? Come on, go outside for a bit till I get back.”

And Harry did go hunt- although he hadn’t planned for it. He’d planned to take Edward back home with him. He only ever brought him over to the cabin while he had stuff to do outside of the pack, simply because he didn’t wanna leave him alone. He truly didn’t trust his own pack enough to do so. Which was food for thought…

So whenever he wasn’t at home, he’d take the pup with him and leave him at the cabin, then pick him up on the way back. The previous night he’d simply needed some time alone. His house back home was definitely big enough for privacy, but it made more sense to come back for his nephew the next morning. Only, he decided last minute he was going to take Y/N to see Niall after all, against his better judgment, and he’d gotten delayed. He felt guilty, in truth. Edward was probably wondering where he’d been for so long. And then when he got back to the cabin, he went straight for the panties and almost forgot about him being there entirely upon finding them.

So yes- he would bring them back something to eat, but he had something more urgent to take care of first if he wanted to be somewhat normal for the remainder of the evening. 

Finding a good soft spot to sit on, leaning against a tree trunk far enough away from the cabin, Harry took out the panties from his pocket with shaky hands. His eyes were surely glowing with how out of his mind he felt, the scent invading all of his senses. Another taste and a deep inhale had him hard in his pants again. His crude wolf nature wasn’t going to be able to let this go. He needed this. Part of him felt silly for being so hard up and not being able to control his urges. But another part of him was feral and unable to resist the temptation. 

Harry spit into his hand and over his tip, smoothing the saliva over himself. He bit his lip to keep his groans to a minimum. With one hand holding the crotch of the panties up to his nose and mouth and his other stroking himself quickly he worked his way toward an orgasm in record speed. The smell and the taste could have him getting off without touching himself if given enough time. He was sure of it.

Imagining her ass in the air and his hands grasping her soft hips as he plunged deeply into her felt so natural. It felt like his base response was the right one. With her soft voice and smooth skin, her lips parted and her body being jolted forward and spread apart for him…

A shaky moan fell from his lips when he began to come, pouring his release onto the forest floor in relief. With heavy breaths, he put the panties back into his pocket and wiped himself up. God, he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with this. He couldn’t imagine enjoying the alpha female as much as he’d just enjoyed masturbating to Y/N’s panties. The alpha was pretty and she smelled nice, but that’s where it ended for him. And he just wasn’t sure that it was enough. 

*

Harry was a mess. He wasn’t sure how he’d made it through the night. He ended up not going back home since he brought food back to the cabin to share with his nephew. He made sure to spend enough time with Edward, telling him about his day- well, as much as he felt like sharing of course, and even shapeshifted again and played around with him for a bit to tire him out. 

Making sure to close the door to the bedroom after the little one had fallen asleep on the couch, he spent the night in the bed Y/N had slept in. It’d been pure torture. But he relished in it, like a masochist. He played with himself again using her panties. He wished he could preserve her scent somehow, though it was wearing off with how much he’d been sniffling and rubbing at them. But he couldn’t help himself. He felt possessed. 

Then after he’d found his release again, he buried his nose into the pillow and it felt like heaven. He’d seen her softer side a bit, and his imagination played into that. He liked to imagine her whispering sweet nothings into his ear while scratching at his scalp after he’d pleasured her over and over again, and they were both still breathing heavily, coming down from their highs. He imagined her satisfied and sleepy but still making sure to cradle him into her loving arms and dote on him before they both gave in to sleep. He’d be spent and he’d fight to stay awake and listen to her sweet voice some more. He’d make sure to switch and take her into his arms before he fell asleep so as to not accidentally crush her, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck and wishing he could mark her there for the whole world to see that she was his.

So when he woke up after alternating between sweet and filthy dreams of her, he tried to busy himself, get his mind off things, but he knew it was futile. One thing kept replaying incessantly in his head, over and over. 

She was his.

He knew it was impossible. He knew he was fooling himself, feeling reckless for every moment he allowed himself to even entertain the idea. But he at least needed to see her, quite desperately so. 

He shapeshifted to reach the station as quickly as possible, making sure to switch to his human form within considerable distance to be safe. On his way there he was growing more and more worried- he hoped he’d find her there and not on patrol somewhere, as per Niall’s orders. He was genuinely concerned for her. 

It was as if he couldn’t get there fast enough. He felt some sort of urgency in his bones he’d never experienced before. And when the ranger station came into view he could immediately tell why. She wasn’t alone.

Rationally, Harry was well aware that Y/N had co-workers. He was also well aware that most rangers were men. But the closer he got, the more he could pick up on the conversation she was having with one of them, and it made him stop in his tracks a few times to listen in before he made his presence known.

“It’s no bother at all, Y/N. Why take a cab when I can drive you, really now… you should’ve given me a call this morning, I would’ve come and picked you up on my way.”

“Really, it’s fine.” 

In truth, Y/N didn’t want Nick to know where she lived. She just had a feeling it was better if he never got to know that about her. But for some reason, he was making a big deal out of her slight limp and how she had to do office work for the next 2 weeks. She’d talked to her superior about it and handed him the note Niall had written for her work, and now Nick was lingering around the station when he should’ve been out patrolling on his own. 

Her eyes widened when a familiar presence came into view. He was standing in the doorframe, and Nick hadn’t heard him come in. Hell, she hadn’t either, but there he was, taking his aviator glasses off and hooking them into the neckline of his shirt, he’d skipped buttoning it up and it showed quite a bit of his torso, as per usual. She tried not to let her eyes linger but there was no helping it. He looked… good enough to eat.

Harry cleared his throat and looked the man straight in the eyes once Nick eventually turned around, “What can we do for you, sir?”

Harry disregarded him completely and shifted his gaze onto Y/N, “How are you? Any better?”

Nick stepped aside, as Harry approached her. She took in just how much he towered over her coworker and how confused the latter looked. She was enjoying this, she couldn’t lie. Both Harry’s attention coming in to check on her, and the fact that Nick was trying to figure out what it meant. Good. She wanted him thinking that maybe she and Harry had something going on, maybe he’d get the hint and stop hitting on her if he thought Harry was in the picture.

“She’s alright. And you are?”

Or not.

“Talking to her,” Harry replied, staring him down. “Shouldn’t you be out patrolling?”

Nick opened up his mouth to say something but hesitated. He looked over to Y/N and she put him out of his misery, “Go. You’re losing daylight. You’ve got more ground to cover without me and I really don’t wanna be late home this evening.”

“... Alright. Good day,” he nodded towards Harry, and when the courtesy wasn’t extended back he finally took his leave after locking out his rifle. 

“I don’t like him.”

“Somehow, I picked up on that. What are you doing here?”

“You never answered me,” he nudged towards her foot that was propped on a smaller stool. He was glad she was heeding Niall’s advice. Good. She’d soon make a full recovery.

She shrugged, “It’s… a bit better? Can’t really tell. Pain wise it’s a lot better, I’ve been taking the anti-inflammatory Niall prescribed. Uhm… I never got to properly thank you yesterday for taking me in. I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

The smallest smile pulled at his lips as he looked from each of her eyes and then took her face in. The way he looked at her suddenly had her forgetting all the doubts that she battled with just the day before. This was the look that haunted her. 

Before Harry could reply the station’s phone rang. Y/N reached across the desk but Harry picked up the receiver and handed it to her, pushing the phone closer towards her as he did so. 

“Silver Wolf Preserve. Yes, we organize guided tours. What area would you be interested in? Let me check our calendar.” Y/N went through their scheduled appointments on the PC and held the receiver between her shoulder and ear to type in the new appointment once she made sure they had an opening available on the requested date. She typed all the necessary info in and when she finally hung up, she looked around and Harry was gone.

Wondering if maybe he’d wandered off through the station, nosy as she knew him to be from how he very blatantly inspected her apartment (though she supposed that was kind of pot calling kettle black), she called out for him, “Harry?”

Finally, she noticed a post-it stuck on the pencil holder facing her, “See you around, officer.”

She audibly exhaled through her nose. She supposed it was for the best. She had work to do, and he was… distracting.

*

Y/N was happy to be finally able to put on two shoes instead of just the one that morning. Progress. She was still limping, keeping weight off of her foot, still stuck doing office work at the station for the foreseeable future, but it’d started raining for a bit and so, she wasn’t all that upset about it in the end. 

She was sipping her coffee at the desk, ready for a slow day when Nick walked into the station. She furrowed her brows at him confusedly, “Hey, you. Filling in for Tom?”

“No. He’s not here yet, then? – Good. I wanted a word with you in private.”

Y/N’s breath caught. That sounded like trouble. She’d hoped Harry had scared his advances away, “...Nothing you could have told me over the phone?”

Nick halted in front of the desk, hands on his hips, “How well do you know that guy from the other day? The one with the cocky attitude.”

“I… uhm, why are you asking?”

“He’s bad news. I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

Y/N felt like asking him what else was new, but instead, she cleared her throat and tried to feign ignorance, “What are you on about?”

“He followed me. More like stalked me. I went out after work last night, had a couple beers at the bar down the street from where I live. Parked my car at my building and walked there. Had my umbrella with me since it’d started pouring and really didn’t notice anything amiss. I was half a beer down when this guy sits next to me at the bar and when I look to my left, there he is. That guy. I initially thought that was just a weird coincidence, but your pal had a message to get across.”

“... What did he say?”

“He told me to stay away from you if I knew what was good for me. Told me to keep my dirty little paws off you, or else.” Y/N was at a loss for words. Stammering to get a word out, Nick cut her off, “He also kept calling me Mickey, he said it was like that pathetic little mouse, and that it was fitting. I swear to God, Y/N. I really had to hold back, I wanted to punch him in the face, but I didn’t wanna risk losing my badge over this. Who the fuck does this asshole think he is?!”

Y/N fought to keep her amusement to herself. Both for the Mickey Mouse remark, but especially for the way Nick actually thought he could take on Harry. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Nick…”

“He’s trouble, Y/N.” He warned, pointing his finger at her as he walked out of the station, “He better not let me catch him in here again if he knows what’s good for him!”

When Y/N heard Nick get back into his car and drive off from the outside parking space, she allowed herself a chuckle. But sobering up, she recognized this was unacceptable on Harry’s behalf. Who did he think he was to do such a thing? It was unacceptable. He’d crossed a line. She wished she could get a hold of him and tell him off. 

Making the trek to his cabin was out of the question with the state of her ankle, and with it raining she wouldn’t have even tried. Plus, he might not even be there for all she knew. 

If only there were an easier way to get to him…

Glancing over to the PC, she searched on Google Maps for Dr. Niall Horan’s private practice. Two could play that game.

When she dialed the number, to her surprise, a familiar voice greeted her, rather than a receptionist.

“Hello! Um… hi! This is Y/N Y/L/N, from the other day?”

“Oh yes! Harry’s friend. How are you doing? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, actually my ankle is much better already. I was just surprised you answered the phone and not someone else. Caught me off guard,” she laughed.

“Oh yeah, Mitzy isn’t in yet, I got here before her to sort some paperwork prior to starting for the day. You’re calling quite early, are you sure everything is alright?”

Y/N grimaced, realizing he was right. It wasn’t even 9 yet. She’d been in such a hurry to get a hold of Harry after what Nick had just told her that she didn’t even think about that aspect. “Yeah, sorry– I didn’t realize I was calling that early. I just got into work myself. I wasn’t even aware of the time. I have to uber here now, and you never know how busy they are… so I just rather be early than late. Anyway– I’m digressing. I’m calling for a favor actually, I hope I’m not overstepping, though…”

Niall chuckled “Don’t worry about it, us early birds gotta stick together. What can I do for you, Y/N?”

“Well… this is gonna sound silly, but I recently updated my phone and lost all my contacts. I was wondering if you could give me Harry’s? I have no other means of contacting him, and it’s kind of an urgent matter…”

Niall smiled to himself. Yeah. She wouldn’t have any means of contacting him, that’s for sure. He was also pleased to see his hunches had probably been right about the duo. “Oh, I dunno, Y/N… that would be breaching that doctor-patient confidentiality…”

Y/N could hear the humor in his tone and mirrored it, “Well, seeing as Harry is your friend, you could maybe turn a blind eye just this once?” 

Niall laughed at her retort and gave her the number. Normally he wouldn’t dream of sharing Harry’s info like that, but for very different reasons than what she was imagining.

Thanking him and wishing him a good day ahead, Y/N shook off Niall’s infectious good mood. She was pissed, and she was gonna get some answers.

When Harry answered in that deep, coarse voice she pushed down the initial response to swoon at the sound. She was on a mission.

“Listen here, Harry… I don’t know who you think you are but you cannot go around stalking my co-worker and then threaten him! Why would you do such a thing? And you followed him? Do you not find that weird? Because I sure do! And what business is it of yours to tell him to stay away from me? Huh?”

Y/N kept going on with her tirade and Harry listened. He opened his mouth once or twice to respond but she didn’t let up.

“Furthermore, I barely even know you! What makes you think you can tell anyone what they can and can’t do around me? I don’t know what was going through your mind! What did you mean when you told him to stay away from me? That’s a weird thing to say to someone that I have to work with!”

When Y/N finally paused to take a breath Harry took the chance to finally respond as cooly as possible, “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Y/N could hear the smirk in his voice. He was playing games with her.

“You know good and well who I am. Are you not going to answer any of my questions?”

“Did he really go running off to you to tell on me? Scared him off that badly, did I?” 

A scoff fell from her mouth at his amused voice, he sounded mighty pleased with himself. “You’re something else, you know that? What you did was wrong and all I’m looking for is an explanation!”

Harry chuckled and that only served to piss her off further.

“Ughhh!” And with that, she pressed the end-call button and let out a breath to calm herself. She hoped she made her point clear. It felt good to tell him off like that.

Harry saved her number into his contacts and made a mental note to have a word with Niall for sharing his info without checking with him first. Not that he minded in this particular case, but still his friend knew better than to share his number considering how he knew he had to keep a very low profile. No, he was actually delighted to have this new means of communicating with her, already thinking of ways he could take advantage of it.

Usually, Harry never acted on impulse. He was a very calculated man, and so, he very seldom regretted any of his actions. However, he’d regretted confronting her co-worker as soon as he’d gotten back into his car that rainy night. He actually felt a bit embarrassed by what he’d done. By following Nick and telling him to back off he revealed that he was more interested in her than he wanted to let on. But that was all done and it couldn’t be changed. He was slightly amused by her upset, however. For some reason, he got a kick out of riling her up. Any passionate reaction he got out of her tickled him. But as much as he enjoyed her attitude he didn’t want her thinking she had the upper hand here. She was the only person he would allow to talk to him that way. If she only knew…

*

Grabbing her things off the desk and stuffing them into her backpack, Y/N was ready to call an uber at the end of her day at the station. Lindsy, the one who would be taking over the night shift was there, and her partner she’d patrolled with had already left. 

The truth was, she was stalling. She wasn’t used to her days going so slow and uneventful. She was alone for most of the day, cooped up at the station, and then going home she’d be alone some more. She knew the reason she was probably overly emotional was because she’d just started ovulating. Probably why she acted on impulse and did all that to get a hold of Harry’s number that morning to tell him off as soon as possible after what Nick had told her.

She was a bit regretful now, though. Knowing Nick, he’d probably exaggerated. Harry could’ve just been at that same bar by coincidence. And yes, he did overstep, telling him to stay away from her, but at the end of the day, that’s what Y/N actually wanted. He’d kinda done her a favor, although she was still not appreciative of the liberties he took in doing so.

But knowing what little she knew about Harry, he’d meant well. He could probably sense Nick’s interest in her when he’d been at the station and the way she wasn’t all that happy to have him reply in her stead when Harry had asked how she was feeling. So, he’d pieced together that he was probably annoying her, and he’d been right. 

Obviously, with the way Harry had laughed it off, he’d not seen it as that big of a deal.

But she always got a bit into her feels, much more predisposed to act on impulse when she was ovulating, and he’d been on the receiving end of it. She probably should’ve held off confronting him about it when he’d no doubt show up out of the blue again. She did miss him popping in unexpectedly, had kind of gotten used to it… and found that she even missed his presence. 

She’d probably go home now and watch some sappy drama on Netflix while she scarfed down the ice cream she kept in her freezer for this monthly occasion. Although she kinda wanted to check and see first if her co-worker maybe wanted to order in something at the station, to share dinner.

“I thought that was your uber outside, but it can’t be. Right? Like who the hell ubers in that?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, limping over to the window where Lindsy was looking outside to the small parking space they had out front of the station, “No, I haven’t called one yet…” she trailed off when she saw none other than Harry’s fancy Mercedes. 

The engine was audibly cut off, and then Harry stepped out of the car. Lindsay whistled lowly, “Well, damn. I was about to go off about visitors bothering us this late, but this kinda visitor I don’t mind– shit!” She took a step back when Harry looked straight at them through the window, “Do you think he heard me?”

Y/N took in her flustered co-worker and fought off her amusement while she grabbed her backpack, “Don’t be silly, he’s all the way out there. Ok. See ya, Lindsy. Have an easy one!”

Y/N was secretly gloating on the inside knowing her co-worker’s jaw was about to drop when she’d see her greeting Harry outside. “Here to challenge my colleague to a duel or something? He’s off duty today unless you got some issue with my other co-workers as well,” she glanced back over her shoulder to the window, and sure enough, Lindsay was standing there dumbfounded.

“Nah. She doesn’t seem to be into women.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him “Oh? That’s pretty presumptuous of you. So let me get this straight… you only have a problem with anyone who would present any interest in… me?”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, as he raised his own eyebrow at her before pushing his body off of the side of his car and opening the passenger door for her, “That’s what I came here to say, actually. I was just looking out for you. Men can be dangerous when they get rejected, and I could tell he was making you uncomfortable the other day. I’m, uh…” he lowered his gaze while he kept the door open, waiting for her,  “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

She got closer to the door, looking him in the eye, “I appreciate that. But you were right, he does kinda make me uncomfortable. So even though you went about it all wrong, behind my back, I’m lowkey glad you did. Maybe he’ll back off now.”

Harry wasn’t expecting that. She was always taking him aback with her candor, the sincerity with which she expressed her emotions. He wasn’t used to that at all. His kind were not in the habit of being vulnerable like that, their emotions always kept at bay, lest it clouded their judgment.

He lingered for a bit before closing the door after she got in, and walked to his side, joining her in the car. 

He cleared his throat, starting the engine, “I, uh, was thinking… I could take you home, or, there’s a much more exciting second option…”

“... Which is?” Y/N smiled widely at him when he finally met her gaze. He was acting bashful and she ate it up. 

“I know you must miss your little routine, swimming down at the lake. I could help you in and out of the water. Since the weather let up and it’s actually a nice, warm afternoon… sounds perfect to go for a dip, wouldn’t you say?”

Y/N was grinning in earnest now, “That does sound perfect, actually.”

Harry smiled back at her, a lopsided smile that showcased his perfect teeth and even a dimple she hadn’t been aware of before. She hadn’t really seen him do much else beside scowl until then. It was quite… disarming.

The drive was relatively short. Knowing her colleagues had patrolled for the night, they were safe to park the car on the nearest pathway without anyone ever knowing they’d been there. It was still a bit of an off-trail trek, and Harry insisted she’d piggyback again. When they got there, it was close to sunset, a bit later than her usual time frame, but that was her own fault for dilly-dallying at the station. She didn’t ask, but she had a hunch he’d stood parked there for a while until she finally left.

Y/N didn’t know why he was doing this. He’d apologized, and that was enough for her. He didn’t have to go out of his way like this. But she was secretly glad he did. Maybe a bit more than just glad.

Harry was losing his mind. He didn’t know whether it’d been the fact that he’d resisted temptation and hadn’t seen her in a bit- he’d grown so used to her presence already, but something about her was heightening all of his senses. It felt as though he had her panties flush against his nose the whole time. Her scent was ten times more potent than before. It made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Reaching the lake, finally, he began unbuttoning his shirt right away and nudged at her to follow suit. She bit her lower lip and began mirroring his actions, and Harry had to swallow the lump in his throat when she shrugged her shirt off. Her bra wasn’t one of the ones he’d seen in her top dresser, but even so, the view was spectacular. Her cleavage was making his mouth water, he could even see her pointed nipples through the fabric. Her whole body was littered in goosebumps and he wondered if maybe this was going to be too cold for her. His own body temperature was much higher, and he could withstand much colder environments without any discomfort, but he was aware of the fragility of her human condition.

“Too cold?”

She blushed furiously when she saw him looking at her erect nipples, “No, it’s good. I’ll get used to it. But I usually come in a bit earlier, I get out of the water just as soon as the sun goes down and the temperature starts dropping considerably. Not to mention, you know… animals coming out. Can be dangerous.”

“You tell me when you start getting cold, alright? Don’t worry about animals. I’m here.”

She furrowed her brows, smiling at him. Yeah, he’d somehow scared those wolves away that night, but they were probably just caught off-guard. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to fight off a bear though, should one happen upon them.

He crouched to help her with her shoes and then slid her socks off, and she unbuckled her belt, letting her trousers pool at her feet while he was still down there. Harry fought off a smile before standing up again and helping her to step out of her pants and tried for her sake not to ogle at her almost naked body.

“You’re not planning on swimming in those, are you?” she tried to keep her voice steady.

“I’m not, just not in the habit of, uhm… wearing underwear.”

Y/N felt her throat go dry, “What, like, ever? You just go commando?”

Harry kicked his chelsea boots off, “Yeah.”

“Isn’t that… uncomfortable?”

“It’s just a preference,” he shrugged, “Consider that a heads up.”

He then undid his fly and she barely had time to look away before she heard him discard the skinny jeans.

Harry scoffed, “Nothing that you haven’t seen before, sweetheart.”

“I was caught off-guard that first time!” she defended.

“Yeah- only took you the amount it took me to get to the shore to figure out I was naked, hm? I don’t mind it, obviously. Are you gonna keep all that on?”

She slowly turned to face him again, making sure her gaze only met his, “Yes. Shall we?”

He nodded “Are you alright with me carrying you like this?” he gestured to himself, referencing his state of undress.

“Yeah…” her voice was small but she was determined this wasn’t going to be an issue. It wasn’t an issue. He was right, she’d already seen him naked. Would a pair of boxers really have made that big of a difference?

…Probably yes, but it was too late now to back out of it. It wasn’t making her uncomfortable, in truth, just very shy, and she didn’t want to appear weak or silly in front of him. She didn’t want him knowing the level of effect he had on her.

She let him take her into his arms and walk them into the water. When the soles of her feet first touched the cold surface, she flinched, pulling away, and contracted her muscles which of course made her cry out in pain a bit.

Harry cursed at himself for having overlooked that. There was only one way to cut her suffering short though- and that was submerging the both of them fully into the water now that it had gotten past his middle- it was deep enough.

Resurfacing, Y/N wriggled her way out of his hold. He’d propelled them deeper and now they were deep enough for her to float. She splashed water at him, inhaling sharply through her mouth and panting heavily, “You jerk! Why’d you do that for?!”

“You were hurting your foot– this was the fastest way to get your body accustomed to the difference in temperature!”

“Couldn’t you at least warn me?! Hey, Y/N, hold your breath in for a sec?”

Harry threw his head back, laughing, “I don’t sound like that!” He splashed water back at her for mocking his English accent.

Y/N was momentarily frozen into place taking in the sight of him laughing with his whole body. It left her breathless, more than she already was. She averted her eyes when he looked back at her running his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back.

Floating on her back, she allowed herself to calm down and enjoy the feeling of being weightless, something that was downright therapeutic for her injured foot, “This feels amazing.”

Harry just looked at her, taking her all in. She looked at ease, and he was happy for it. He was also glad to have her scent watered down a bit. It was driving him wild. He didn’t know how he was going to drive her all the way back home.

They both swam for a bit, and Y/N took note of his technique. He was a natural. Surely he must’ve done this his whole life. He moved in the water seamlessly. The sun had gone down and the moon was up in the sky, with stars slowly coming into view as well the darker it got.

She floated on her back again, taking in the view she so rarely got to see from inside the water. The sound of crickets and frogs were getting louder and louder, and Y/N felt her batteries recharge. She’d missed being out in nature, even though she's been cooped up in the station office for just a few days. She glanced over to her side and noticed it had actually gotten much darker than she realized. She could barely see the outline of Harry’s profile, illuminated by the moon, as he floated on his back near her. Somehow, as though he’d sensed her looking, he turned his face to the side to meet her gaze. 

“Getting cold?” he murmured.

She nodded, submerging herself up to her torso, her toes touching the floor of the lake if she wanted, “A bit, yeah. I don’t want to go, though…”

He mirrored her actions and got closer to her. His skin glistened in the moonlight, and his eyes seemed all the more brighter. She could never get over his eyes. They were mesmerizing. She hadn’t even had the presence of mind to realize that he’d brought his arms around her until she took note of how closely she could look into his eyes. He was holding her close to his body. Impossibly close.

“Better?”

Y/N nodded slowly, not sure what to do or say next. She could hear the water droplets break the surface of the water as they rolled from off of his face, that’s how close they were. Could hear him breathing. 

She brought her hands over his pecs, tracing the outlines of the swallows tattooed on each side, then rested her palms flat against them, “You’re so warm…”

He was seemingly emanating warmth. Her own hands were cold as ice against his skin. She looked back into his eyes, ungluing her own from her palms resting over the tattoos. Then her gaze inadvertently dropped to his mouth, and she wondered whether his lips would be just as warm. As if reading her mind, his tongue peeked between them, wetting his lips, and she glanced back into his eyes. But his were focusing on her own mouth, his lids heavy and his breathing a bit shallower. His heart beating a bit faster under her palm- or was she just imagining it all? She couldn’t break away from under the gravity of the moment to be able to tell. She felt as though she was in a trance.

She felt his fingers squeeze at her midsection a bit, pressing her even closer to him, flush against his body, and she gasped feeling him poke into her abdomen in doing so.

“Are you going to keep these on when you get dressed? You’re going to soak your clothes…”

His voice was deep, yet quiet. Barely above a whisper. It sent shivers through her body, and not because she was cold anymore. In fact, she felt as though she was on fire.

“I… I suppose not.”

Harry was teasing her a bit for not having foreseen having to take off her underwear anyway- but the reaction he got out of her was much better than he could’ve ever anticipated.

Without taking her eyes off his, she bent her arms so that she could reach the clasp at the back, unhooking her bra and peeling it off, throwing it into the water without a care. The top of her breasts were barely breaking surface, her nipples still obscured from his view, but Harry’s mouth fell open at her brazen act. His hands wandered further up her body, until his thumbs reached the undersides of her breasts, thumbing at the curve of them there, back and forth, ever so slightly. 

She allowed herself to let her hands travel further as well, the tips of her fingers reaching underneath his wet curls at the nape of his neck. In doing so, she’d pushed her body slightly higher up in the water, her torso emerging from underneath the surface completely.

His hands went under her bum on instinct, supporting her fully, bringing her eye level to him, and her legs went around his torso, his hardened cock now pressing into the underside of her left thigh. She couldn’t help but card her fingers through his hair, their noses coming into contact, him tracing the tip of his around hers until tilting his head sufficiently to the side and capturing her lips between his. He sunk his fingers into her fleshy bum when she opened up her mouth and invited his tongue in with a breathy moan.

The moment his lips met hers he was changed. Her soft mouth and wet tongue tasted and felt even better than he’d imagined, and he’d certainly imagined it. And her sweet moan would have made him weak in the knees if he were standing on land. He’d never felt anything so hot and intimate in his life. A part of himself knew that once he kissed her he’d be unable to stop pursuing her. He was already obsessed. But the feel of her fingers in his hair, her plush thighs wrapped around his middle, the way she slid her tongue against his and sipped at the tip when she closed her mouth around it… he could barely hold it together. This had just gone beyond obsession. 

He wanted to bring her to the shore and show her what else his mouth and tongue could do. Hear more of her little moans and whimpers as he satisfied his hunger for her.

With his fingers digging into her bottom he pulled her in closer and felt the skin of her thigh pressed hard into his prick. She gasped at the feel of it and he smiled into the kiss. His own heart was pounding so hard he could hear it. He wished that she wasn’t wearing underwear so he could press himself to her center, just to feel the heat, the slippery mess he knew must be leaking out into her panties.

Keeping hold of her bum on one side with one hand, he slowly moved the other upward, over her ribs, and ghosted the underside of her breast again, needing another feel. He really wanted to lay her flat on her back and knead them in his hands and then flip her to her tummy and do the same with her bottom before stuffing his face into the fragrant warmth between her thighs.

Another moan fell from her lips and Harry parted from her with a gasp. Both of their chests rising and falling quickly. With his forehead leaning against hers, Harry kept his eyes closed because he was certain they were glowing golden with how worked up he’d gotten. He would have continued kissing her all night but he could feel her shivering, despite his own warmth surrounding her. He needed to get her out of the cold water. And he needed to calm himself with a few deep breaths.

“Let’s get you out and dried off so you can warm up,” Harry whispered softly so as to not break the delicate moment. He held her close so she couldn’t see his eyes as he brought them both out of the water, going a little slower than he normally would to give his body and his wolf time to settle.

With his hands releasing her thighs he gently placed her down, unable to deny himself from the briefest glance at her bare breasts before quickly looking back into her eyes. He couldn’t look at her body for too long or he’d start to lose it again. 

He quickly bent to her pile of clothing and went for her shirt to bring it to her, but before he could straighten back up, she threw her drenched panties right under his nose.

Harry tried to keep his composure, making sure to keep his eyes on hers as he approached her again, placing her shirt over her shoulders, and then running his own hands up and down her frame to warm her up. 

Y/N melted at his affectionate gesture, especially after throwing her panties over to him like that. She expected him to look at her hungrily, maybe even try for more, but his priority was getting her warm. And she was getting warm. From the inside out. 

He bent to get her pants next, while she shrugged her arms into the shirt properly, buttoning it up. He crouched in front of her the same way he’d helped her take them off, and she placed one hand on his shoulder for stability, noting how he was keeping his eyes firmly on her feet, gently helping her by bringing the material up her legs and when he reached the hem of her shirt he sat up straight, looking her right in the eyes again.

She tucked it into the trousers and secured her belt while he retrieved his own pants. She wished she could extend him the same courtesy but she wasn’t as strong as he was. Not only that, it was hard to miss. 

Y/N already knew that his dick, even in just its flaccid state, was more sizable than any man she’d seen before but she was not quite prepared for its aroused state. Watching him move with his fully erect cock, heavy and swaying under its weight had her clenching and squeezing her thighs together involuntarily. She imagined the way it felt so hard and thick under her thigh when they were in the water. It made her palms sweat just knowing that that had just been pressed against her body.

She watched with labored breathing as he winced with a scowl, trying to tuck his erection into those skinny jeans of his. Which proved to be an issue when he had been unable to button his pants, his thick crown was pushing out over the top of the waistband of his jeans in a teasing call. Her mouth dropped open. Maybe that’s why he preferred going commando. Perhaps it was out of necessity more than preference given that it seemed unlikely anything could contain him.

He next bent to pick up his own shirt and on his way back up, he halted, taking her in. Her shirt had clung onto her damp body, the outlines of her breasts still deliciously visible, her wet hair dripping over top and making the shirt even more see-through. He’d just seen her naked but this was just as enticing. Getting her clothes on had done nothing to dampen his desire for her.  

Instead of putting his shirt back on, he decided to add another layer of warmth to the girl, placing it over her shoulders. She wasn’t shivering anymore, but he could tell she felt cold still, and he really didn’t need it. Looking at her engulfed in his much nicer, larger shirt, knowing his scent was going to cling onto her now and follow her into her bed that night made him even more feral. If nothing else, this would be the way he’d brand her as his in that moment. It was a far cry from what he actually wanted to do, but it was making him wild nonetheless. He imagined her swaddled into the nicest furs in his den, her skin just as damp but from sweat and their mixed juices, her body trembling from ecstasy, not cold.

He swiftly placed his hand around the front of her neck and pulled her in for a quick, wet kiss that had her feeling dizzy. She’d never had a man put his hands on her neck before and the way Harry had done it, so tenderly, and confidently would have her rethinking all of her favorite intimate experiences. Surely this one had just replaced them all for top spot. No, it most definitely had.

His hand lingered on her neck as he rested his forehead against hers, and rubbed the tip of his nose to hers, trying to collect himself once more, “We need to leave before I lose my senses completely, Y/N. You don’t know how much it’s taking me to keep from doing unspeakable things to you right now. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

His voice was low and he’d even added a slight squeeze around her throat at the end there, for emphasis. It almost rendered Y/N unconscious, but not for lack of airflow. She felt like she was floating. Her voice came out small and shaky with need, “Please.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling deeply through his nose and forcing himself to push his body away from hers. He didn’t trust his hand around her fragile neck with the state he was in, he didn’t trust his hands on her body at all, or even himself in her proximity. He wanted to devour her. 

“Careful what you ask for, sweetheart.”

Chapter 6

A/N: (@fkinavocado and @gurugirl here) We barely made it out alive writing this one, guys. Hope you all enjoyed 🥵14k is pretty impressive, so we expect lengthy feedback- we think we deserve it ❤️

please remember to like & reblog if you enjoyed this, and most importantly, come share your thoughts on it with us here 💌

if you feel so inclined, you can buy us a coffee here☕

🐺follow us on wattpad to get notified whenever we post something new/update!🐺

[theonlythingtheyfearistruth]

WHY DYSTOPIA MUST BE BORING TO SUCCEED

The "Boring Dystopia Strategy" is a highly strategic and often subtle method employed by those in power to create an enduring, all-encompassing authoritarian government. The genius of this approach is that it doesn't look like a dystopia at first glance. Each step toward oppression is disguised as a necessary solution to a societal problem, creating a series of small, unassuming changes that collectively transform society into a high-surveillance, debt-ridden, and highly regulated landscape. The result is a quiet but relentless march towards a government structure that controls nearly every aspect of daily life, cloaked in the language of safety, responsibility, and "public good."

Key Components of the Boring Dystopia Strategy

Enhanced Surveillance as Crime Prevention Surveillance systems are marketed as tools to make communities safer. The rationale is straightforward: if there are cameras everywhere, criminals are less likely to act. At first, this seems like a good idea. However, as surveillance expands, it reaches a point where privacy no longer exists—every action and interaction is tracked and recorded. People's movements, purchases, conversations, and even thoughts (through social media and data mining) become data points in a government database. The population is conditioned to accept surveillance under the guise of crime prevention, even though the surveillance network eventually exists to deter any resistance to the growing system of control.

Financial "Disincentives" as a Form of Behavior Control Insurance companies, incentivized by government policies, implement "dynamic" pricing models that penalize risky behavior. Drivers with even minor infractions, young drivers, or anyone with imperfect credit face skyrocketing insurance costs. While it’s presented as a means to reward safe drivers and reduce accidents, it’s ultimately a method of forcing people into line. Over time, these small financial penalties accumulate, and as people find themselves unable to afford the rising costs, they are pushed further into debt or forced to depend on the very government that created the conditions of their hardship.

The Department of Bureaucracy: A Growing Web of Useless Jobs New laws and regulations are introduced to solve every conceivable social issue, resulting in bloated departments filled with superfluous workers whose roles add no real value to society. The justification is often to create jobs and stimulate the economy, but these positions end up creating layers of bureaucracy that slow down meaningful progress. This web of inefficiency puts financial strain on both the government and the people, leading to higher taxes and fees. With each new law or regulation, the cost of compliance grows, straining both businesses and individuals who can't afford to play by an ever-increasing list of rules.

Rising Cost of Living as an Inevitable "Economic Shift" As government regulations add costs to every industry, prices naturally increase. This is explained away as the cost of progress or as an unfortunate byproduct of addressing critical social issues, like "ethical sourcing" or "green initiatives" that are actually revenue-boosters for corporations. As inflation rises and wages stagnate, the lower class is squeezed financially. Each attempt to improve their situation—whether by taking a second job or reducing expenses—is offset by further price increases or surprise taxes. This creates a cycle where economic mobility is nearly impossible, locking the lower class in place.

Debt as a Tool for Control As the cost of living rises, debt becomes unavoidable for many. Loans, credit cards, and financing options are promoted as solutions, pushing people into a system of lifelong debt repayment. With growing financial obligations and little hope of ever breaking free, individuals are forced to work harder, often taking on additional jobs, which leaves them with less time and energy to question or resist the system. Debt chains the population to the very system that oppresses them, creating a sense of dependency on government stability, even as that stability is the source of their financial despair.

The Final Stage: Disempowerment Disguised as "Efficiency"

As the population is weakened by financial strain, endless surveillance, and a tangled bureaucracy, the final stage involves introducing measures to "simplify" governance. This might mean fewer elected officials, streamlined decision-making processes, and the merging of regulatory bodies for "efficiency." In reality, this final stage centralizes power even further, leaving those at the top with almost unchecked authority, a situation that the people, too exhausted and indebted to resist, accept as necessary.

The Boring Dystopia Strategy works because it does not announce itself as an authoritarian takeover. Instead, it subtly shifts the balance of power by presenting every oppressive measure as a solution to a social ill. And because each step is introduced slowly, over decades, the population becomes accustomed to the new reality, accepting surveillance, debt, and regulation as the normal costs of a safe and responsible society. By the time people realize the extent of their powerlessness, the dystopian state is fully entrenched, with every escape route closed off.

[covid-safer-hotties]

I loved my teaching career. COVID normalization stole it from me - Published Aug 23, 2024

It might not have been the most favourable, but one of the most memorable comments I ever received on a student evaluation was that I could be “a bit hard to follow, but that was more an example of [my] passion for this subject over anything.” That subject was creative writing. And yes, sometimes, I had difficulty tempering my excitement throughout a teaching career that has now been cut short.

I have – or had – been teaching as a contract or “sessional” creative-writing instructor. Given the competitiveness of the academic job market and my age (I was nearly 40 when I earned the requisite degree, though I had already published four books), I had come to accept that it was unlikely that I would ever have a faculty position. But I could live with that because I still had the rare privilege of making a (barely) livable wage doing something I was very passionate about.

The COVID-19 pandemic took that from me. Actually, that’s not quite right. It was the perceived “end” of the pandemic that really ruined my teaching career.

I am immunocompromised and rely on medication to manage an autoimmune disease. This means vaccine protection from the virus is probably less effective for me than for most people. Also, my particular illness – Crohn’s, an inflammatory bowel disease – has been shown to put me at significantly greater risk than most for long COVID: a potentially chronic condition that can be very debilitating. And despite how it may seem, COVID circulates widely much of the year: We are still in a pandemic.

When universities returned to in-person learning in early 2022, a brief letter from my specialist was all I needed – because of my medical condition – to continue teaching online. But all that changed about a year ago.

Ironically, it is now harder for me to receive accommodation to teach online even though there is less protection in the classroom against COVID. I cannot require masking, which is perhaps our best tool against transmission (particularly respirator-style masks such as N95s), in the classroom. Nor does one-way masking offer as much protection as universal masking. Also, current air filtration in classrooms is generally insufficient. In other words, classrooms are not safe and accessible workplaces for medically vulnerable people. But that’s certainly not how university administrators, and even those who were supposed to represent employees’ interests, perceive things these days.

Last year, trying to discourage me from requesting to teach online, a union rep told me that he “believed in in-person learning.” The most frustrating thing about this comment, and the widely held opinion it represents, is that I too very much miss teaching in person and would, if it were safe to do so. (That said, I believe I am every bit as effective a teacher online.)

On another occasion, a university administrator, after I had submitted my medical documentation, thought “the solution” was for me to co-teach the class so it could include an in-person component and, consequently, less pay for me. After a struggle that went on for months, I taught the class entirely online, but the accommodation agreement I had to sign stated I had “a medical condition that needs limited exposure to as many people as possible.” I nearly refused to put my name to this bizarre description of what is a prevalent disease, but it was too late to apply elsewhere.

It is clear it will only become increasingly difficult for me to teach online as time goes on. The back-and-forth with administrators, department heads and union reps, waiting to find out if I will or won’t be accommodated, and/or what new obstacles will be thrown at me – it has all caused me significant anxiety, which in turn has made it more difficult, ironically, to manage the symptoms of my illness.

I know that the people I have been sparring with are, for the most part, decent folks: They are just ill informed. But I can’t keep trying to do the job of a public-health official to ensure my own health. It’s quite literally making me sick. I’m done. I quit. I have to.

Disability activists have fought long and hard for workplace accessibility to be a right. But the culture has not caught up to understanding the particular accessibility needs of the immunocompromised.

I do not know how to go forward from here. Online courses, especially creative writing, are few and far between. I am looking for online work that utilizes my skills and education and/or that pays more than minimum wage. I have yet to find even an opening for anything like that. For now, I’m grieving: In many ways, it’s a full-time job.

The last time I taught in person was the year I graduated from my MFA program – just months before the pandemic began. After the semester had ended, a student asked if we could have a coffee together so that I could offer further guidance on revising a piece of writing that I had told him was of near-publishable quality. And I only say that to students when it’s true. He also, to my surprise, wanted to share a bit of his own constructive criticism for me – about how I could facilitate workshop discussion a little better. I chuckled at his audacity, though later, upon reflection, took his suggestion. But mostly we focused on his creative work.

As we were getting ready to go our separate ways, he mentioned, in passing, that he had a long drive home: 2½ hours. It has always stayed with me that a student was willing to spend five hours driving for a relatively brief chat over a coffee. Clearly, he thought I was a good teacher, but with more practice and experience, I could become – like a talented, but novice, student writer – an excellent one. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like I will get that chance.

[bi-writes]

i'll fix it for you

he rarely means what he says.

type: one-shot pairing: joel miller x fem!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: some violence and suggestive content, mature language, implied age gap summary: boston. let your imagination do the rest.

complete masterlist author's note: been awhile since i've written anything. hope i haven't lost my touch.

There wasn’t much your hands couldn’t do. Your fingertips were tender and meticulous enough to fit into small places, making them perfect for something most desirable now—fixing things.

You had your hands around the small radio, a marker behind your ear and a screwdriver in your dominant hand. You spun the flathead into the screw, unwinding it until it was wobbling loosely and fell onto the table. You moved the screw to the little dish you had holding the others, taking a hold of the face of the device and lifting the worn plastic up.

You went slow, seeing that wires and electronic components were fitted to both sides of it. There were in familiar colors that you had memorized. Red diverted power, black grounded it, and the other colors were reserved for digital and analog readings. Your eyes went to the board that the wires were connected to, and your heart sank a bit. Around the soldered pins, you could see the discoloration of the green board, a bit of ash and black coloring seeping into the bright color.

“Fuck,” you whispered, putting the radio down. It was fried, and the only fix was to replace it.

Your comment didn’t go unnoticed. A towering figure sat down in front of you, and you didn’t have to look up to know he was staring right into your figure, a glare of curiosity and knowing disappointment. He never said much, so you knew he was waiting for you to elaborate on your sudden glowering mood.

“The component’s fried,” you said softly, putting the screwdriver down. You picked up a screw and played with it in your free hand, anything to keep yourself from looking up at him. “I…I need a new one.”

Silence remained. You knew what that meant.

No.

If he had a suggestion or an idea, he would’ve said it by now. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously, closing your eyes. It was your job to fix things; but you couldn’t fix things if you didn’t have what you needed.

You opened your eyes again, your head raised enough that you finally met his gaze. He wasn’t smiling, but that didn’t surprise you. What surprised you was that he seemed just as disappointed. Not angry, not frustrated, just disappointed. His gaze was accusing, even though he usually would have commented by now, in a tone most condescending.

“I don’t tell you how to do it, I just tell you to do it.”

You didn’t have his wisdom nor his years of experience. You didn’t have a hunter’s aim, you didn’t have killer instinct, but what you did have was books and time. Books to teach you, and time to learn. You were valuable enough to be worth enough ration cards to last a lifetime, and you knew it was why he kept you around. If he was good at anything, it was evening the odds, it was surviving. You made those chances much better when whatever you fixed was worth a basketful of goods.

You only agreed because it wasn’t so bad to be associated with him. As soon as you had been seen walking beside him at the market stalls, there was no more bargaining. Whatever you wanted, you paid less than what they were asking. Any soldier that had been looking you over soon pretended you weren’t there. If you asked for a favor, it was done. He was not your bodyguard, but his name beside yours was enough to keep the tide at bay.

So, you did whatever he wanted whenever he needed it. Neither of you had ever talked about this deal, but as soon as your days were calm with not so much as a frustrating touch or a wrong encounter, you never stopped showing up at his door. Words unspoken, a deal established, a life unbothered.

There wasn’t much else you could ask for.

You put the screw down, leaning back in the worn dining table chair. It creaked a bit, biting through the disappointing silence. You pursed your lips, sighing deeply, your mind wandering.

“I can ask around,” you said softly. “Someone has what I need. I’ll fix this for you.”

That phrase, the words that fell from your lips, it was sweet to his ears. You meant them well, and he knew the words were true. The promise you always made, “I’ll fix it for you,” you never fell through.

When he didn’t respond, you stood up. You went to the couch, where your bag was sitting, and you started gathering your things. The chair he was sitting in slid across the floor as he stood up.

“Where are you going?” He asked lowly. You lifted the bag over your shoulders, zipping up the end of your jacket. You shook your head, knowing this conversation was coming.

“I’m going to get what I need,” you said simply. He stepped closer.

“You know that isn’t how this works,” he countered. “I’ll go.”

“You’ll just scare them off,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes a bit. “You don’t know how to ask nicely.”

“How many close calls have you had? We both know—”

You stepped closer to him, putting a cautious hand on his chest. It stopped him mid-sentence. You had never touched him before, not really.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I just need a few hours. He won’t give me what I need if you’re with me, I know it. You scare him.”

He tilted his head to the side, angrily. He knew who you were talking about now. This wasn’t someone, it was somebody.

“I can handle him,” you said finally, after a few tense moments. You sighed, looking at the radio on the table. “How many ration cards is that worth?”

“Not just cards,” was all he replied, and you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“Then let me do this. We need this.”

We.

You took a deep breath, a smile finally gracing your face. You could feel his heartbeat slow almost at the sight, a reassuring smile that made his face fall a bit. You dropped your hand slowly from its place on his chest, and he almost flinched, almost lifted his own hand to keep you there.

But he didn’t.

“How about this?” You suggested, looking towards the window. It was about noon. “If I’m not back by sunset, then…by all means, wreak havoc. But I’m a big girl. It’s gonna be fine.”

You turned back to look at him, and he had turned his head to look at the window, too. Your eyes scanned his face, deep in thought. There was nothing more comforting than his thoughtful presence. He always knew what to do.

“Just don’t be stupid,” he said finally. His tone was back to normal; condescending, authoritative, as if he was scolding you. “I don’t wanna have to come get you.”

The quiet and calm moment was broken. You tried to not let his words show their effect on your face. You swallowed the sour taste in your mouth, turning to leave. You only were able to take a few steps before you were yanked backwards by the straps of your backpack. You opened your mouth to protest, but then you heard the zipper of your bag opening. He shuffled around inside, and you flinched a bit when you heard a disappointing grunt come from him. He roughly zipped your bag back closed, and then you felt his hand in yours. He handed you your switchblade, his touch leaving you once he was sure you were holding onto it.

“This oughtta be on your person,” he said lowly. “Can’t reach into your pack if you get into trouble.”

You gave him a small smile over your shoulder before you bent down and slipped the blade into your boot. You stood up again.

“I won’t get into trouble.”

When the door finally closed behind him, he finally let himself breathe. It was a shaky breath that came out rougher than he intended. He made his way over to the window, waiting there until he saw you come out the front, making your way down the steps. He watched as you walked down the street, his eyes on you until you turned the corner and disappeared from view.

The strain in his throat only got worse. He didn’t think twice before grabbing his bag, tossing it over his shoulders and making his way out.

—

“I got a few in the back.”

You sighed a bit with relief, tapping your fingers against his desk. You reached into your back pocket, pulling out a stash of cards.

“I could give you these,” you said, “unless you got something you want me to fix.”

You didn’t want to give the cards. In fact, most of your transactions here were remedied with your skill. People always needed something fixed, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“Yeah, I got something for you to fix,” was the response, along with a sly smile and a gaze that didn’t go unnoticed. You stiffened a bit, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t be an asshole,” you mumbled. “Give me what I need, and I’ll agree to forget what you just said.”

“I don’t want you to forget.”

He stood, and you straightened your posture. You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head to the side, shaking your head in a silent warning. The kind of trouble that followed exchanges like this weren’t pretty. You knew it, and you hoped he would remember that.

“Get me my parts,” you said again. “It’s the last time I’ll ask.”

You weren’t unfamiliar with situations like this. You might not have been the best sharpshooter in the city, but you could handle yourself. You silently thanked something above for the reminder to put your blade in your boot.

Can’t reach into your pack if you get into trouble.

You were quicker. His hand reached towards you, and you lifted your foot behind you, swiping the blade and flicking it out. You put a fist to his chest, knocking him off balance enough that he grabbed the table for support. You did not think twice before letting the tip of the blade go through the back of his hand, pinning him to the table.

The scream he let out echoed around the room, and you shoved the table backwards, forcing him to sit back into his chair.

“I fucking warned you,” you said before going around the table into the room in the back. He kept things organized. Everything was stored neatly in boxes, labeled with marker on fading painter’s tape. You opened your bag, grabbing a handful of the components you needed. You grabbed yourself a few extra things, some batteries and screws and other electrical parts that you were short on.

For my trouble, you told yourself.

You came out of the room, standing in front of the table where he was wheezing, hot tears rolling down his reddening face. His blood was dark as it ran down the skin of his arm.

You reached for the end of your blade, wrenching it out of his hand and splattering his blood across the table. His scream again crackled in your ears.

“I took a few extra things for the trouble,” you said to him, licking your dry lips. They stung.

“You bitch, I-I swear—”

Your laugh stopped him, and you put your hands on his desk, leaning forward.

“I dare you,” you said softly, almost sweetly. “To come after me. You know where I’ll be. And who I’ll be with. Let’s just agree to forget this ever happened, and then I won’t have to tell him how close you got to me today.”

His eyes burned with anger. They were dark and flooded with frustration. Your frame, smaller and younger than him, but so untouchable even though nothing separated you. You had too much baggage, too much protection, too many friends. He was not popular; he would not win.

“So when I need favors,” you continued, “and when I need things, you’re gonna give them to me.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you shook your head.

“I’m not unreasonable,” you said. “I know you have a business to run. I won’t ask for much. But when I need something, you’re gonna be there for me. You’re gonna give it to me. Because you know what’ll happen if you don’t.”

The name hung in the air. Unspoken, but even just a whiff of him was enough to shut the man up. You didn’t have to say his name for the threat to sting, to permeate the air and stick like gum on the wall. His name was sacred, and you spoke it as little as possible.

Anyone smart enough made sure they knew his name, anyways.

You grabbed a rag off the chair beside you, tossing it at him.

“You should wrap that hand,” you finished before turning on your heels and leaving. The slam of the door behind you echoed through the hall. There were a few patrons shuffling around that just stared at you, but you didn’t pay them any mind. You simply made your way down the steps of the apartment building, shoving past anyone in your way.

When you were on the street again, you looked up at the sky, realizing the time. You needed to get back before he noticed.

To get home.

You kept up a steady pace as you made your way through the city. It was busy at this time. People were trying to get home before curfew, and they appeared tired and sluggish as they went through the motions. The sun was heavy today, warm and uninviting, and the sweat was in the air.

You noticed your shadow once you were closer to his street. A dip between the sunshine that came and went, a figure in your peripheral vision that followed you slowly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood tall, but then you realized the intense gaze was familiar. The curls, the ragged, figure-hugging shirt he wore, the stoic expression that nobody could really read.

You slowed your pace, letting him catch up. You turned finally, stopping, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved that he had followed you. Once he realized he was caught, he slowed his walk. He made his way towards where you were standing, and you looked up at him with a neutral face.

“I told you I could handle it,” you said to him. Your voice was gentle. People were beginning to notice the two of you, standing close, and he started to walk again. You sighed in defeat, following him now. You felt like a child. Like you had just been found out, caught breaking the rules, and you were just walking towards the room where you’d never hear the end of it, of the lecture.

You shut the apartment door behind you, gently, locking it. He was already seated on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his hands folded together. You put your things down, slowly making your way towards him. You took a seat beside him, the cushions bending under you, your knee touching his. You were awfully close.

You opened your backpack, taking out the components and other parts you had procured. You set them down on the coffee table, smiling to yourself. You showed it to him like it was your prize. It was your trophy; you had done a job without him, handled the trouble, and came out with more than you planned.

You sat back on the couch, but he was still leaning forward. You looked down at your hands, still stained red. The blood wasn’t yours, but it didn’t stop you from swallowing hard.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you saw the blue of your jeans wet with small drops. You took a shaky breath, rubbing your hands on the couch for comfort. You weren’t a fighter, not really. Nothing was ever truly easy.

The blood never truly came out. The scars never faded. The words never stopped repeating themselves in your head. The stares never left your memory. The bruises never got better, not truly, when their touches were so rough.

You went to stand, but a grunt from him stopped you from moving too far. He put a hand on your thigh to keep you beside him, and you relaxed back against the couch. You stared down at his hand on your leg, his fingers curled around you firmly to keep you close. He was wearing his watch still, like always.

His touch was warm. His touch was comfort and safety and security, and if you thought his presence was comfort and security, it was nothing compared to the blanket of it you were wrapped in now. You wanted to feel it everywhere. You wanted to feel it around you, in you, everywhere and all the time.

You sniffled a bit. You couldn’t keep the tears a secret, and he didn’t need to turn to look at you to know that you had cried. You drank in the silence, feeling comfortable in it. You let your head lull to the side, your cheek resting against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, letting yourself breathe him in. You had never been this close to him. He smelled good, smelled so earthy and calm, and you nuzzled your face into his shoulder more to consume the feeling of him.

You did not know what love was. You did not know if you had ever felt it before, but if you had, you were sure it was not as intense as this. Nothing would ever be, nothing could ever be.

You let your hand curl around his bicep, holding yourself closer. Your entire body was against his now, your fingers squeezing the muscle that you had ahold of. You lifted your head a bit, pressing your mouth to his shoulder. You didn’t dare press a kiss there; there was no way you wanted to break this moment.

His head turned a bit, his eyes finding yours. His dark eyes were on yours now, and you let the rest of your silent tears fall. His gaze flickered down, watching the tears curl around your jaw before wetting his hand that still wrapped around your leg.

He lifted his other hand, reaching around and using the rough pad of his thumb to wipe your face. You kept your eyes on his as you leaned into his touch. It was clear to him now the effect his touch had on you. You followed it if he let you, searching for it to keep you grounded.

“Joel…”

The name slipped past you finally. You spoke it, gently, barely audible above a whisper, but you said it. It felt alright to say it between the walls of your shared apartment. For all intents and purposes, this place was safe. Safer than outside, safer than on the street, safer than the apartment next door. He lived here. He felt comfortable enough to rest his head on a pillow here and close his eyes until next morning. If he could do it here, so could you. If he could relax his shoulders just slightly here, you could say his name at ease. There were no barriers here.

Not at home.

He had tried hard to keep you at arm’s length. He had tried so hard to let his demeanor push you away, keep you at a distance, detest you in a way that made you unable to stand him for anything other than survival. He was stupid to think that was possible; there were stars in your eyes that never faded. He was almost certain you had the ability to ignore his words and find the meaning behind their roughness.

Don’t be stupid could be translated to be careful. Don’t make me come after you meant you know I’ll come if you need me. I’ll go really was just another saying for I don’t want anything to happen to you.

As your eyes held onto his, there was so much said that fell short. His gaze was soft, and your eyes were wet with love. You scooted even closer to him on the couch. You lifted your head off his shoulder, leaning even closer, close enough to touch your forehead to side of his head. He didn’t move away, not even a little. If anything, he pressed against you, too, his eyes lowering to look at where his hand still rested on top of your thigh. His thumb moved in circles there, feeling the denim beneath his touch. There was little else he could think about.

“I’ll…” He was first to speak again. “I’ll fix this for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. This had to be love. There was no other explanation. There was no other way to decipher the heat in your chest, the throb in your heart, the swimming of the thoughts in your head. There was no other reason your skin burned and pulsed and ached to be closer and closer and closer to him.

You nodded in response finally, pressing your cheek to his. You closed your eyes, letting out a gentle breath of relief.

“Okay,” you whispered, and you could have sworn you felt his lips brush against the side of your face. It could’ve been a kiss. The way they pressed just enough against your skin, feeling the slight dampness from the way he licked his dry lips, the tenderness that only his mouth could hold because no other part of him was really capable of being that gentle.

There it was again, just beside your eye. Careful, calculated, secret, as if someone would catch him if he made too much noise or captured too much of your attention. You thought perhaps maybe he knew that if he gave any more than the ghost of his touch, you would make a sound.

It was true. You would cry. Maybe even scream. Perhaps you would say something and give this moment away, but how could you not? Joel Miller did not give affection. He did not receive it, and he certainly did not let his guard down enough to sit this close to someone other than his own shadow.

Oh, again, and this time you heard it. In the silence of the room you sat in, it was the faintest sound, but so sweet, you could taste it. A kiss, the sound of lips pressing against skin, a short peck that made your head spin. You didn’t cry nor scream. No, you whimpered, a soft whine that echoed in his ear. He squeezed your thigh in response as if to tell you that it was okay. Maybe it was to tell you that it actually happened, and that you weren’t dreaming. He was so rough around the edges. He was so hard to read. He rarely spoke, he rarely had any other expression on his face other than bitterness and annoyance. He rarely said anything except an insult or a command or a short, barking response that was meant to silence you.

This was peace and calm and serenity, and if this really was a dream, you wished on something above to never wake you up. You could die now, and it would be the most welcome end to whatever sick fantasy you had created; anything to keep this vision from stopping, anything to keep Joel Miller’s hand on you and his mouth on your skin and his gentle words in your ear.

Again, something new. The scratch of his beard as you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his for the hundredth time again. Another tear fell, but it was broken by the smile that grew on you. Sunshine in your eyes, not stars this time, he observed. He stiffened slightly as your free hand laid on top of his on your thigh, but he didn’t pull away. He was touch starved, and every lick of your warmth was a terribly beautiful relief. You smiled wider, suppressing a soft laugh. It was awfully funny to you the way he behaved. The brooding, dark man you had come to know was as stiff as a board, but he never pulled away from you. He didn’t pull away from your smile or your laughter or the soft touch of your meticulous hands, the hands that could fix anything.

The hands that could fix anything. The hands that could fix me.

He stared down at you as you continued to relax. The fear and tension in your body was gone, and while you explored this new territory, he never moved or relaxed. He was letting you explore on your own. He was too afraid to do anything more than he had already done. It was bliss when your hand left his bicep to touch the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Greying and curly, but you admired him from this close. Now that you knew what it was like to be this close, you feared you would never move away again. There was something in your gut and on the tip of your tongue that told you that while he would never say it, you would be allowed to come this close whenever you wanted now.

He was gentle with you when he stood up finally. He didn’t push you away. He just let your hands fall into your lap again. It was dark out by now, and the both of you needed sleep for the day tomorrow. It would be a long day, full of laborious work and unforgiving heaviness. You reached up now, taking his hand in yours, stopping him from moving away.

“Joel…”

There was his name again. It felt good to be called by his name again by someone like you.

“Just a little longer?” You begged. He was touch starved; but so were you. He sat again on the couch, unable to deny your request. Perhaps he was unable to deny any of your requests, and you had just never known until now.

I’ll fix this for you had to mean I love you.

Didn’t it?

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #0.5: Cloud Empress

asdfasf

So, here are the results:

Our starting party will be a Courier, a Magician, and a Lordling! Screw Sellswords! No one here likes them apparently (literally not a single person, not even me, voted for them)!

I rolled all three characters randomly across the board, as is Play-By-Blog tradition. That said, let's take a look at our crew!

THE COURIER: "Senior" Stone (they/he)

(I'll be typing this up in a little character keeper for upcoming entries, but for now, here's my handwritten sheet! Sorry for my bad handwriting! I have little patience for legibility.)

Stone is a rough-n-tumble courier in their final year of being a teen. They just recovered from a broken arm for a few weeks in Tack Town, and are eager to get back on the road. With a new, still-unnamed crew at their side, they are confident about this next job, if for no other reason than they'll be more targets than just a lone courier this time. Stone is the party's provision carrier, being a Courier and all. They currently have 3 days worth of Provisions for the entire party (the max they can carry).

THE MAGICIAN: Boto "The Penitent" (she/her)

Boto is a full-grown Magician and practiced arcane healer, looking for something new and exciting among the, frankly, boring fields of the Breadbasket. She just finally learned more about an unknown spell after a few weeks in a backwater village, convincing the townsfolk of her trustworthiness. She's dying for some adventure, and this job looks like it could be just the thing.

THE LORDLING: Iselbraid "The Judge" (he/him)

Iselbraid is a Lordling of some renown but few achievements. After romancing (and angering) several members of the Royal Court, he's taken to the surface for a bit, looking to earn himself a valorous tale or two before returning in the fall. Hopefully they'll be some new members of the court that catch his eye by then. He's still convincing himself that this whole bit of adventure is the right decision, but he doesn't know how long he can get by off of smooth-talking alone.

OUR STARTING GOAL: Hunt a fleshthresher in the Breadbasket. The components fetch a decent exchange in trade, plus there's a local farmerling group offering to aid you considerably if you are able to make the fields around the fleshthresher save for them to harvest.

Fleshthreshers are ancient and deadly automatons, responsible for protecting the automated farm fields of the World Before. We'll need to explore the region or possibly chat with some locals and see if we can get a tip about any known Fleshthreshers in the area. Scout crews frequently gather in Tack Town and head out in search of food, working to gather undetected by the field automatons, so its reasonable to assume some may have a worthwhile lead, if we can find them.

OUR STARTING LOCATION: Tack Town (B18), the largest city in the lowland wastes centered at the heart of the Breadbasket.

"There isn’t an adult Farmerling who has not spent a season in Tack Town and only badly misplanned Farmerling children are born outside its crumbling plastisteel walls. The Lowland’s last city is filled with a jumble of hard shell tents, ancient dwellings, and tack-shaped rolling campers resistant to the unearthing Imago."

"Many make their way to the cafeteria, waiting to taste today’s sweet-meat soup; milky bone broth infused with cardamom and honey. Farmerlings high on mushroom tonic gulp down bowls of the stuff, stumbling past a parading Lordling and nir guards. The Lordling finds few eyes meet nir gaze and the Farmerlings that do bite their thumbs in anger."

"In the market, travelers buy handfuls of seeds with their winter savings, preparing to make their way back to ancient farmlands. There is no singular day of departure, just a growing feeling that it is time to move on. Folks trickle out, four or five at a time, and only the old and unwell stay behind preparing Tack Town for its next winter."

It is here our adventure begins, but first, we have a choice.

(As always, sound off in the comments in you've got another approach or a specific thing you'd like to see the characters do/investigate. Thanks for joining me for character creation! Next entry will dive into the adventure narration proper and we'll see how these characters explore the world, what events trigger, and more. I'm happy to have y'all along for the ride! - Christian)