#sorry i just watched dune again

[female-buckets]

No because I definitely came in with the new wave of fans but there's such a glaring difference between how I and the fans I interact with operate and how cc fans operate that it makes me pause sometimes.

And I can't say too much because I've seen some sane fans and I'm a paige fan and it still needs to be seen how much her hype translates outside of her personal bubble because I've seen quite a few people being stupid about her when it comes to uconn goats and you just immediately know they don't know shit about anything that's not her face but she made it click for me so im always gon be a little biased in my take that she actually does grow it outside of her.

Like I had been to my nba home games a handful of times throughout my years on earth and they were fun but it didn't make me give a rats ass outside of the time I spent in the arena so I thought I was safe in my hatred of sports and just liked the atmosphere of live events (true) and not basketball and I was a casual Angel defender whenever she popped up on social media because the massive racial backlash that put her on my radar was insane but I wasn't a fan I wasn't riding for her day in and day out I didn't tune in on purpose or by accident through the algorithm it still didn't make me realize I actually liked basketball yet but now, now it's like wow I'm literally the target audience I was supposed to end up here the whole time. Mind you I became a fan of Paige in April this year so every basketball game I've ever seen in real time has yet to actually involve her. She even got me mildly interested in the nba even though I still object on principle because I'm poor in both money and time and women > because she makes it unavoidable, she's so immersed in everything basketball.

That's the real difference between cc and Paige and the other girlies fanbases imo She's a very insulated person and obviously she had a different starting point than Paige with all the uconn alumni but p has put in the work for the connections with non alumni over the years and you see Juju and Flau'jae doing the work to immerse themselves right now and that's just never been her thing which is fine because I support doing your job and going tf home but it leads to a very different and largely insufferable fandom culture in this case because they have no respect for anyone thats not her they occasionally like people who exist on the peripheral of her life but the respect is little to nothing and its even easier to see now that she's on a professional team because they be talking crazy.

Paige is the chosen one. Paige Atreides. She's the Kwisatz Haderach. And Wasserman is the Bene Gesserit. Lindsay Kagawa Colas is the Reverend Mother arranging all the prophecies that Paige will fulfill.

Paige Atreides must come to WNBArrakis and learn our ways. And then she must liberate us from the Clarkonnens. Lisan Al Gaib! Lisan Al Gaib!

Okay but seriously I can't wait for Paige to come to the league. We need a fresh infusion of UConn fans to counteract all the negativity from CC's fanbase.

And as usual I have to put a disclaimer here. Disclaimer: not all Clark fans are Clarkonnens. But we need to be honest about the fact that Clarkonnens outnumber regular people in her fanbase. And many regular people are getting radicalized and turning into Clarkonnens because they're fed so much propaganda.

[transbeamrooikat]

I have a lot of feelings about the new dune movies decision to leave out the Bene Gesserit idea of there being "true humans" for the most part, but I did really love it being brought back for the end of the second movie - the Harkonnens are almost always referred to as "animals" by the Atreides (and I think the other way around too?). I think its a really amazing demonstration of how Paul is becoming more fascist in his ideals, but also how the Houses are inherently fascist in a way, which kinda comes back to the theme of no good colonizers

[idaaadivock]

not to talk about dune on main but like. lisan al-gaib became an instant meme in the theater i was at. like great acting amazing music (thank you hans zimmer you're a real one) phenomenal photography and setting and fight choreography

but stilgar's LISAN AL-GAIB in every circumstance possible was so funny it made the whole theater erupt into laughter directly after the fight with feyd-rautha which is supposed to be like. poignant ig and powerful and an overall vibe

y'all hit the wrong vibe besties 😭😭

[aesoka]

also, i know im not saying anything new here but while I did enjoy seeing hayden & ewan again [ honestly, I'm just happy hayden knows how much his performance as anakin means to ppl ] I'm just disappointed in MYSELF that I didn't see disney using that sense of nostalgia prequel fans have/had as a marketing tool. like UHG. don't get me wrong, there were bits on the series I enjoyed, however, it didn't nearly rip me apart as much as it could have, and they abandoned the more grueling [ but satisfying work ] of tearing obi wan apart inwardly in favor for a more action based, outward plot.

[honourablejester]

One thing I’ve never understood about D&D druids is how they’re so often imagined as stationary. They’re found ‘guarding sacred sites or watching over regions of unspoiled nature’. And, I know. This is mainly because of the imagery and popular imagination around sites like Stonehenge. But.

If I had the druid spell list? I would take Create Bonfire, and I would take Goodberry, and I would take Create or Destroy Water, and I would pack up a sleeping bag, and I would just start walking. Where? Everywhere! What’s down that road? What’s over that hill? What’s up this river? What’s past this forest? What’s over those dunes? Let’s go see! I can’t starve. I can’t parch. I can’t freeze. I can go forever. So I’m gonna.

Honestly, the druid should be the picture of the wandering vagabond. They have everything they need. You can just walk and keep walking, wherever the wanderlust takes you. You wanna go across an ocean? You can make drinking water. Ships should pay to carry you. You wanna go across a desert? A baby druid with one level and 2 measly spell slots under their belt can still make food and a gallon of water a day for 10 people. Druids should be the explorers, the navigators, the pathfinders. They can travel endlessly, without hurting that which they pass through, the very picture of ‘leave nothing but your footprints’. They can walk the earth, stopping here or there along the way to help where they need to help, and fight what they need to fight, and then they can move on again.

Yes, some druids get tired and settle down. Circles are formed, and that’s how baby druids get their starts, finding a circle. And some areas do need a permanent circle to defend or watch over them. But I do think there should be more of a picture, more of an image, more of an option, for the druid as the wanderer, the rover, the vagabond. A pocket full of berries and a wave of a hand for some rain. Just head out and follow your feet. What could stop you?

(Particularly the Stars druid, my beloved. Could there be a better picture of a navigator? That’s where a Stars druid belongs, at the prow of a ship, or guiding their people across trackless dunes, or carrying news across vast ice fields under an endless polar night to keep tiny isolated hamlets connected. Follow the stars, follow your feet. Yes, accomplish things in the process, but the journey itself is also enough. Just walk. Go. The stars will guide you).

Sorry. In real life, so often, I just really want to see what’s down that road, or over that hill. And, like. As a druid you could just go. You have all you need from a standing start. Well. You’ll have to get clothes and good boots and shit, but you can totally feed and water yourself for completely free and regardless of natural resources out there.

More druid wanderers, is my point here. Yes, still some druids guarding henges and forests, but more druids just walking about, poking their noses into things. There is no better spell list to indulge your wanderlust and curiosity. And that’s without getting into wildshape and the eventual ability to explore under the oceans and into the air. There’s a whole world full of nature. You don’t have to tie yourself to one little bit, unless you want to.

[lottiesprophecy]

since dune part two came out i have been watching all the cast interviews because people online swear on their mama that timmy, zendaya, austin and florence “despise” one another.

are we watching the same interviews?? i just watched the one where florence and austin are playing around with kittens and apparently they lived together while filming?? (not sure if this included zendaya & timmy). austin talks about how florence was great at getting him “out of the house”, taking him on hikes/walks with her, how she would come back home to ask him if he’s left the house at all, and she took him to try out hot thermal tubs. florence mentions how it’s so important to take care of yourself and your mental health while working on a huge project. i beg your finest pardon??!! if you don’t like someone you definitely don’t lookout for their mental wellbeing. also, at one of the premieres austin was being affectionate towards florence? he held her hand when there really wasn’t a need to other than he wanted to hold her hand??!! florence talks about how after Elvis came out the two of them hung out in budapest and ate pastries!!

zendaya helped timmy set up his apartment in new york a few years ago. she took him shopping because his style was very “teenage boy.” she said let’s find you a home lmao. timmy calling her “Z” in all their interviews??? i’m sorry but that’s bestie level stuff. the banter between timmy & austin?? they just bounce off of each other’s energy. zendaya saying she wants dune 3 so she can work with florence again, how she wants to cook with her and just have florence all to herself??!!!

idk what all these “body language experts” are smoking because i’m seeing something completely different.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part three - true blue

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You didn’t want to – really you didn’t. The idea of you and Rafe being alone at a spot – your spot – a place, the place, that you hadn’t shared in close to two years was suffocating to say the least. You have continuously pressed replay on all the world’s worst scenarios; all the things that could go horribly wrong, that would surely break your heart into a million pieces all over again. Your feet feel clucky as they trudge through the sand and like the water that meets the land on the other side, you feel rushed into you; like the waves of a tsunami are crashing against the wall you’ve placed around your heart, the barriers are so close to breaking and they do as soon as you see him. He’s sitting, just past a sand dune, his shirt has been discarded and his hair is wet. 

“Hey, hot shot – you've been swimming without me?” 

You ask with a forced cheek. He only responds with his signature smirk. It was quiet, awkward for a moment. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being punked as you sat down beside him, his feet digging holes in the sand. You couldn’t remember the last time the notion of him being this close had crossed your mind or even seemed within reach. Which probed your next question to the boy sitting next to you. 

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?”

He questioned, with a smile on his face. 

“Can you tell me now?” 

You asked anxiously, ready for the blow of what you knew was coming – he was going to tell you why he left and you were sure that it was because of you after all. That’s the only thing that made sense in your brain. You watch him anxiously, intently as he shuffles, bringing his hand up to his hair to swoop his long locks out of his face and behind his ears. 

“Yeah, I guess I owe you that don’t I, pretty girl?” 

You’re on edge as you hear your old namesake leave his lips. He moves his hands behind him, leaning back into the sand. His skin feels hot against it, he notes. He swallows thickly and opens his mouth to speak. 

“You know I was different after my mom died, right?” 

You’re taken aback by his question – of course you know. She was the fucking sun and he’s just fucking like her; his cheeks and eyes – they belong to her. He belonged to her and it physically pains you to see him lose it after she’s passed away. You remember it all but mostly the way the bright left the blue hue of his eyes in the same moment the breath left her body. It makes your bones hurt to think about it still. 

“Yeah – how could I forget? I was too, we all were.” 

You said quickly. 

“I kept it well hidden then – until I couldn’t anymore, until I didn’t have a choice.” 

He’d replayed how he was going to tell you in his head over and over, over the last two years and finally came to the conclusion that he never ever would. But, now – at the prospect of having you within his reach again, he’s sure he’s going to spill his guts any moment. 

“Can you spit it out, drama queen?” 

You said with annoyance. So he blurted it out – rather frantically. 

“I was on drugs, okay!” 

He shouted. There was silence for a moment, you – too shell shocked to reply. 

“Look – I know you’re perfect and you’ve never done anything wrong in your life, okay? I’m sorry.” 

His eyes go dull as he braces himself for your judgemental glare. 

“What?” 

You ask in a too small voice. He doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet for a moment. 

“I was on drugs. Nobody knew. Then, I owed Barry a massive amount of money and he knew I loved you more than anyone, alright? So I had to cut ties.” 

He said very matter-of-factly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You whispered and the ocean breeze made him suddenly cold, or maybe your tone of voice sent a chill up his spine. He’s truly not sure which. 

“What do you have to be sorry about, y/n?” 

He asked confusedly. 

“Not being enough – not being good enough for you to come to me and tell me the truth, that you didn’t feel like you could come to me.” 

The crack in your voice as you finished talking cut him straight to his core.     

“Pretty girl, it’s not like that, okay? I was trying to protect you.” 

Again, there was silence for a little while before either of you spoke. Rafe was trying to find the words; the ones to make you understand that you weren’t to blame. 

“You’re not messing with me, right?”

You asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean?” 

He questioned, confusedly. 

“I mean, you actually want to be near me again? You’re not messing with me?” 

You asked innocently, feeling far too insecure for his answer to be anything other than yes. 

“Of course, I want to be near you. I never wanted to stop being near you. It was just easier to cut everyone out than to explain my pain to someone else. I didn’t want to face all the disappointment either.” 

You swallowed thickly and he noticed. 

“I’m sorry. I always just assumed it was me, that I had done something.” 

You whispered, almost inaudibly. But, he heard you, loud and clear. 

“What? What could you possibly have done?” 

He asked incredulously. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You looked down at your feet, afraid of what he was going to say next, not wanting this intimacy with him to become foreign and far off again. He gently lifted your chin so your eyes could meet his. 

“You never did anything wrong and this is not a game. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

He reassured you gently. 

“I appreciate you reassuring me, but it’s going to take a lot more than words for me to trust you again and I think you know that.” 

You replied, giving him the kindest smile you could muster up. It wasn’t your intention to be rude or mean to him, you just needed him to know where you stood. 

“I know. I’m sorry that I broke your trust, but I hope you know I’m going to spend every day trying to make things right between us.” 

“Okay, Cameron.”

You smiled nudging his shoulder. You made your way back to the parking lot with Rafe, not long after the conversation fizzled out. 

“Well, I think I’m gonna head home. This was fun.” 

You said with a sweet smile. 

“Let me drive you, I know you walked, you always walk here.”  

Rafe spoke, excitement in his voice. 

“Okay.” 

You agreed to his idea, smiling kindly his way, following him to the truck you had made your home ever since he had gotten his license. He was the first of the two of you to be able to drive and you had taken full advantage of that, waiting for him after football practices and in the early morning so he could cart you everywhere you needed to go. That was the first thing you missed when he had left you - the intimate car rides, where you experienced a version of Rafe that no one else got to. He opened the door for you, ushering you into the passenger seat and closing it once he made sure you were inside and comfortable. Making his way around to the driver’s side, he took his keys out of his pocket and climbed in, starting the truck. The engine roared, sending vibrations through your spine. It felt euphoric to be here, alone with him. Which was something you had dreamed about for so long. He pulled out of the beach parking lot, hands steady on the wheel, and began the trek to his neighborhood. Tannyhill had become your second home over the years, whether it was play dates with Rafe when you were six or trying on clothes with Sarah when you were fifteen, the Camerons were your family and you were thankful that your favorite one was seated next to you, a backward baseball cap sitting on his head and strong arms fixed on the wheel. You’d never get over the view. 

“Y/N?”

He spoke your name with a question in mind. 

“Yeah?”

You smiled in his direction. 

“Would you wanna come to dinner tomorrow at Tannyhill?”

He asked gently. 

“Sure, you know I never pass up Rose’s cooking! What’s the occasion?” 

You questioned with a giggle, it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Just having you back, I guess.” 

He smiled sheepishly. 

“That’s sweet, Rafe.” 

You spoke softly, the blush coating your freckled cheeks. 

“Your parents are going to be there, so I figured you could just join them and we can have a big family dinner.” 

“Why are my parents going to be there?”

You questioned, confused at his comment. 

“Uh, Ward said he and your dad are working on some big business project or something.” 

He replied, not really knowing the answer to what you were asking. He had no idea what the two men were up to. 

“Ah, okay. Sure, Rafe, I’d love to come. How fancy do I have to dress, 1-10 on the fancy scale?” 

The laugh that escaped his lungs was boisterous. You and Rafe had created the fancy scale after you got bitched out by your dad’s for not dressing appropriately for Midsummer’s in the eighth grade and ever since you always warned each other of the fancy level parties or dinners would be. 

“A solid 5.” 

He retorted a laugh ever-present on his lips. He forgot how much you made him laugh and how good it felt. He was brought out of his thoughts as he pulled into the driveway, spotting your car sitting right next to your dad’s. 

“This has been fun! I missed you.” 

You spoke softly and a smile danced across Rafe’s features. 

“I missed you too, Y/N.” 

Your eyes studied his face, looking for any inkling of deception. There were none, at least not that you could see. His eyes met yours, locking in on your face and not looking away. You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do. Having his full attention was not something you were used to anymore. 

“Thank you, Rafe. I seriously had a really good time tonight. We will do a movie night soon.” 

“Of course, you’re still my favorite girl.” 

He smiled kindly, ushering you over to your front door, lingering for moments longer than he should have, but not wanting to let you out of your sight. 

- 

Your phone rang early the next morning and as you groaned loudly, willing whoever was making your phone ring at 7 am to die, you read the contact. It was Topper. Your sluggish fingers slowly but surely slid across the screen to see what in God’s name your best friend wanted this early. 

“H-hello?”

You grumbled. 

“Wake your ass up!” 

Topper yelled into the phone. 

“T-top. I’m about three seconds from killing you. Why are you screaming into my phone so early?” 

You questioned with annoyance. 

“Get up and get dressed. We’re outside your house.” 

He said plainly. 

“Who’s we? And for what? It’s fucking 7 am?!” 

“Don’t be grumpy, princess. We just want to spend the day with your sexy little self.” 

Kelce interjected. 

“Kelce, please shut up. I’m not awake enough for your bullshit attempts at flirting with me.” 

You grumbled with a sneer behind that phone that he couldn’t see. 

“Damn, you’re a spitfire today!” 

Topper exclaimed, laughing. 

“I was up late, okay? Jesus Christ.” 

You couldn’t believe he was being so mean to you this early in the day. 

“Okay, well get up, get dressed and pack insulin and some snacks. We’re going to be gone all day.” 

He replied. 

“Top, I can’t. I have this dinner with Rafe tonight, I can’t be gone all day.” 

You were nervous to be saying anything to Topper about it at all, he knew your history with Rafe better than anyone. But, you knew you had to tell him the truth. 

“Listen, idiot, Rafe is with us. So, come on. We’ll have you both back at Tannyhill in time for your dinner, so either pack a dress or wear one. You’re not missing this.” 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart leapt at hearing you were going to spend the day with Rafe by your side whether it was in a group setting or not. 

“Fine, I’m coming, Topper! Jesus.” 

You said, feigning annoyance. 

“Told you she’s not a morning person.”

Rafe interjected, giggling. 

You grinned to yourself, realizing you were going to get to spend an entire day and night with Rafe. Scurrying out of bed, you searched through your closet in a hurry and settled on wearing a baby blue sundress with white polka dots that Rafe got you for your birthday the summer before you started high school. He always said that baby blue was your color. You slid it on quickly, pairing it with white platform sneakers and some dainty gold jewelry. You fluffed your hair and quickly packed your insulin after changing your insulin pump site and choosing a new area of your stomach to plunge the needle into. You ran through the kitchen, grabbing a few snacks and some juice to throw in your bag. Before walking out the door to Topper’s jeep, you stopped, took a breath, and smoothed your dress and hair before stepping out of the house and opening the back passenger door, hopping in, to be met with a very tired Rafe Cameron. 

“Hey, sweet cheeks! Are you done being an asshole? I need my morning kiss.” 

Kelce gave you a sly smirk and Rafe chuckled to himself, knowing pushing your buttons this early was not a good idea. 

“Kelceo, Fuck off!” 

You exclaimed with a growl, letting him know you weren’t in the mood. 

“Fine, I’ll chill. Can you blame me? Look at that dress.” 

He continued his train of putting his foot in his mouth. 

“Kelce, cool it, man.” 

Rafe spoke, his tone laced with warning. His protective nature made you smile. 

“So, what’s so important that you drug me out of bed at 7 am on a Saturday?” 

You questioned Topper. 

“My mom set us up on a tour of UNC like months ago and I forgot to tell you until this morning.” 

He replied nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t absolutely unhinged to let you know the morning of – in a way that only Topper knows how. 

“Topper, I’m going to kill you.” 

You muttered. You truly couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday, your three favorite boys, and a four-hour-long road trip. Truthfully, what could go wrong? 

You were brought out of your thoughts by Rafe’s hand touching your elbow. 

“Y/N?”

He was saying your name in question again. 

“Sorry, I was zoned out. What’s up?” 

You asked. 

“Have you eaten yet?” 

He asked in a gentle, hushed tone not wanting to draw everyone's attention to the two of you. 

“No.” 

You replied just as quietly. 

“Go ahead and eat, okay? I read that being up on your feet all day can be hard on your body.” 

You were shell shocked for just a second – he cared enough to read about what your life is like?

“You’ve been reading about diabetes?”

You questioned. 

“Of course I have, you’re my favorite girl.” 

He said it again. 

“Thanks, Rafe. That’s so sweet.” 

He smiled in response and watched as you took the banana out of your bag and began to eat it. When you finished, Topper was pulling into a gas station and asked you to come in with him to pick out some snacks while Rafe and Kelce pumped gas. As you made your way inside, rummaging through the aisles of various snacks, Topper began the inevitable best friend questioning that you knew was bound to happen eventually. 

“So, you and Cameron, huh?”

He teased, knowing your history of being in love with him since you were six. 

“I don’t think he feels that way. I’m just happy to have him back.” 

You gave Topper a kind smile. 

“So, what happened? I mean was there a conversation? Did he at least apologize?” 

“Yeah, Top. He did.” 

You said, matter-of-factly. 

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me everything right now, I’m going to fucking combust.” 

He said with urgency as he giggled. 

“Okay, okay. Jesus! So, we met up at our spot the day after the party and he told me the truth. I have a feeling that it’s not all of it, but he seemed genuine and i’m assuming it’ll all come out in layers over time.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

He questioned with curiosity. 

“Because it seemed like there was more to the story, more to tell. I got a very shrunken down version.” 

You replied.

“Well, if you need me to beat his ass I will. You just let me know.” 

He spoke with a devilish smirk that you knew meant he was both serious and joking. 

“Thanks, Top.” 

You laughed. 

“Of course, you know I always have your back.” 

He replied, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Anyways, so we talked about the drugs and why he felt like he couldn’t talk to me, and then he told me he was sorry and he wanted to be friends again. He drove me home and asked me to come to dinner tonight at Tannyhill. I said, yes, so here we are. Oh, and I told him about me being sick at the party-”

“You did what?!” 

You were cut off with an incredulous question and raised eyebrows from Topper. 

“Yeah, I told him a little about getting sick when we ended things and he didn’t even run like I thought he would.” 

You said with a soft, sweet smile. Topper couldn’t remember the last time he had seen you smile like that. 

“I told you he wouldn’t. He loves you.” 

He replied easily, the truth of the words flew out of his mouth so effortlessly. 

“Yeah, we’ll see. I’m not 100% on board yet. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then he runs away again.” 

Topper shrugged, he couldn’t disagree with your reservations after the last couple years you’d had. You’d been through so much. All he wanted was to see you happy and he knew if the timing was right Rafe would treat you so well. He’d truly changed. 

“That’s understandable and valid. Just don’t write him off yet. He might surprise you.” 

He said with an easy smile. 

“Thanks, Top.” 

The two of you shared a hug after exiting the convenience store, with snacks in hand. As you made your way back to the jeep, Rafe admired your form, watching the wind raking through the skirt of your dress. 

“Welcome back, pretty girl. Are you ready for our morning kiss, yet?” 

Kelce asked again, sweetly this time. He was starting to get on your nerves. 

“Kelceo, cool it.” 

Topper stated, climbing into the driver's seat. Kelce was annoying everyone today, kidding or not. 

You climbed into the backseat again, plopping down next to Rafe. His sparkling blue eyes took in your smiling form as you tore into a bag of popcorn. 

“How are you feeling, sweet girl?” 

Rafe questioned, studying your form with his piercing blue eyes. Sweet girl. You hadn’t heard that in a long time and it felt warm against your ears.

“I’m feeling pretty good right now. But, my sugar is low.” 

You smiled in his direction. 

“How do you know it’s low?” 

He asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I have this app on my phone, see.” 

You turned your phone screen around, which displayed your glucose monitor’s readings. Your blood sugar was low, reading 76 mg/dL. Which was not low enough to warrant panic, but also not high enough to be considered normal.  

“So, if 76 is low, what’s considered normal?” 

Rafe probed in a genuinely curious fashion.

“Generally, the goal is to keep the daytime blood sugar levels before meals between 80 and 130 mg. But, after-meal numbers are a little bit higher but shouldn’t be more than 180 mg.” 

You explained simply. 

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Will you tell me if you start to feel bad?” 

He questioned. It made you smile that you seemed to be falling back into your rhythm so easily. 

“I won’t have to. You’ll know. But, I promise I will.” 

You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. The touch, though short-lived, was electric and you wondered if he felt it too. The music topper was playing lulled you to sleep all of thirty minutes into the road trip and you were beginning to stir as soon as he pulled into the UNC visitor’s parking lot.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

Rafe ran his fingers through your hair, scratching it in a circular motion. Your favorite way to wake up. When you opened your eyes, you jolted up, embarrassed, realizing your head was on Rafe’s shoulder and drool was pooling at the corner of your mouth, dripping onto the gray t-shirt he was wearing. You turned your head towards him with apologetic eyes as you took in his face, the sweet disposition oozing out of him, as his eyes smiled at you before his mouth did. 

“I’m sorry I drooled on you.”

You spoke sheepishly. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Not the first time, definitely won’t be the last.” 

He chuckled, giving you his classic Rafe Cameron smile before getting out of Topper’s jeep and making his way to the passenger side to open yours for you. As you began to climb out of the car, he picked up your bag, carrying it for you. 

“Thanks, Rafe. You don’t have to carry it, though.”

You said, beaming up at him. 

“You look so pretty today, I think I’d do anything you asked of me.” 

He blurted out without thinking and your eyes went wide as your cheeks filled with a blush. 

“You are so sweet, Rafe. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smiled your way, yet again. 

“I’ll carry it. It will make me feel better if you have a glucose emergency if I know where it is.” 

He stated, matter-of-factly, as he placed the brown leather backpack on his shoulder. His words created a flutter in your stomach. 

“Okay, losers! Come on, we gotta check-in at the visitor’s center.” 

Topper remarked. You and Rafe began following him and Kelce to the front of the building. Topper quickly went inside and left the three of you waiting on the steps as he went to collect your program information, campus maps, and name tags. When he came back out of the door, he handed each of you your designated packets of information and began explaining what the game plan was. 

“Okay, so in each of these packets is information specific to your major. Y/N and Rafe, you’re in a group and then me and Kelce are in a group because our majors and buildings are on the same sides of campus. Go through the packet, it’s got a scavenger hunt and then instructions for meeting the bigger tour group after lunch. We will see you guys then.” 

He finished what he was saying and Rafe was already moving, ready to get away from Topper and Kelce and celebrate his alone time with you. 

“Okay, sounds good.” 

Rafe spoke, taking the packet of information from Topper’s hands, and turning to you with a smile. 

“You ready?” 

He questioned with a smile. 

“As I'll ever be, lead the way, Cameron.” 

You gestured to the sidewalk in front of you, beaming up at his tall form, opting to go the opposite direction of Kelce and Topper. 

Topper and Kelce quickly scurried off, putting you and Rafe alone again, finally. You love the other two stooges with every fiber of your being, but you’d always loved Rafe more. If soulmates were a thing, he was yours in a platonic way of course, because there’s no way he felt about you the way you felt about him. You were okay with that. Rafe in any way, shape, or form was enough for you, as long as you had him in some way, you’d be okay. As Rafe began talking to you, you were brought out of your daydream. 

“So, what do you want to hit first, the football field?” 

He asked sarcasm present in his tone, though playful and innocent. 

“Sure, if you’re gonna be playing here, we should check it out first.” 

You gave him a small smile. 

“Are you thinking about coming here in all seriousness?” 

“Yeah, I was offered a full scholarship for cheer and academics pending my final grades next year.” 

“What?! That’s amazing, Y/N!” 

“Thanks, Rafe. I wish my brother thought so.” 

“What do you mean? Hasn’t he wanted you to go to UNC like forever?” 

He asked, confusion ever-present in his voice. 

“I mean, yeah. He’s just been different ever since I got sick.” 

“What do you mean?”

He questioned. 

“It’s like most of the time, I’m a bug he’s trying to swat away.” 

You replied with nonchalance, though Rafe could register the pain in your voice. 

“Maybe he just worries about you?” 

He asked, suggestively. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. You’ll see tonight what I mean.” 

You muttered. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, we’ll be here together. At UNC, I mean.” 

He said with a sweet smile. 

“Really?!” 

The joy that riddled your face made Rafe smile. 

“Yeah, I’ve got some scouts coming to see me play in the fall and I’m excited. UNC is my dream school, though. So even if I have to be a walk-on or not play at all, I’ll still be coming here. They’ve already given me a scholarship.” 

“As they should, Mr. Valedictorian.” 

You smiled brightly at him. 

“Hey, how do you know I’m valedictorian?!” 

He chuckled but was surprised. He had never talked to anyone about his class standing. 

“Well, I did some digging after realizing I was second in our class, and to my surprise, my favorite Cameron was the one that beat me out.” 

You gave him a sly smile. 

“Since when am I your favorite Cameron?” 

He asked jokingly, though the notion made his heart soar. 

“Since always.” 

“Oh, come on! You and Sarah have been thick as thieves for the last two years.” 

“Maybe. Sarah’s always been a good friend to me. Topper and Kelce too. But, you’ve always been number one in my heart, I hope you know that.” 

The kindness exuded from your eyes. You meant every word. 

“You’re something else, you know that.” 

He chuckled, but you suddenly felt like you had said the wrong thing, swallowing thickly. He observed your form, realizing where your mind had gone. 

“No, no, I mean that in a good way. There’s just no one like you. You’ve always been just so perfect. It’s hard to measure up.” 

“It’s a facade, trust me.” 

You spoke, rolling your eyes at the notion that anything that had anything to do with you was in the same category as perfect. You were brought out of your thoughts as the two of you made your way to the entrance of the football field, following other students into the gates. Rafe looked on in awe at what would be his stomping grounds in just a few short years, his eyes sparkled as he daydreamed about the baby blue uniform he’d get to wear with his name and number sewn into the back. He’d get to matter here. He’d get to be somebody other than Ward Cameron’s son. He’d hope to make you his girl, here. But, quickly pushed that thought down as you began speaking to him. 

“What? Are you imagining all of your fans screaming your name? All the girls throwing themselves at you?”

You chuckled. 

“Nope. Just one.” 

“Shutup! Who is it, Cameron? You have to tell me!” 

“You’ll know soon enough, you know how bad I am with secrets.” 

You giggled and its music to his ears. 

“Boy do I! Remember that time in second grade when we brought that puppy to my house from the street and we were only able to hide it from my mom for three hours before you blabbered?!” 

“Not my best secret-keeping moment.”

He chuckled, remembering that day with you. Your soft curls that too often fell on your face and the look of pure fear in your eyes when your mom found out about the puppy. 

“That was a good day.” 

You spoke softly. 

“Yeah, it was.” 

The two of you stood side by side, Rafe’s shoulders towering over you, as you both looked onto the field that would be your home for four years. Excitement stirred in your gut at the chance to get out of the Outer Banks, out of Kildare fucking county with your best friends in the entire world and you simply, couldn’t wait. You hoped the next two years would fly by so you could get out of your hometown, finally fall in love, and forget that Kooks and Pogues even existed. 

“Okay, Cameron. Let’s go check out the buildings where our classes will be.” 

“Sounds good, pretty girl.” 

He smiled at you and placed his hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the stadium and back to the quad. Once you made it away from the large crowd inhabiting the stadium, you probed Rafe with another question. 

“So, what are you majoring in, big guy?” 

“I haven’t fully decided. Dad wants me to be a business and marketing major, but I am really into the idea of English lit. What about you?” 

“I’m English Literature with a concentration in creative writing and a minor in entrepreneurship.” 

“Nice! What do you want to do with that?” 

He probed, curious about your career path. 

“I’m not sure, yet. Maybe teach English or become a writer. All I know is that writing and reading makes me feel alive and I’d like to chase that high as long as I can.” 

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

You instantly recognized the words he was stringing together into a sentence. 

“Rafe Cameron, are you quoting Dead Poets Society to me?” 

You smiled so widely at him. This version of Rafe was different. It was one you had seen glimpses of over the years, but this one, he was your person. You were sure of it. 

“Don’t all the guys you talk to do that?” 

“What? Do you mean the ever-so-educated JJ Maybank who cares about feelings and reading? Yeah, no. I can’t say that they do.” 

You scoffed into a laugh at Rafe’s joke slash question. 

“Okay, that’s fair.” 

He said, letting out a boisterous belly laugh. 

“Let’s go look at the Business Administration building first.” 

You suggested and Rafe agreed with your idea. Since you both would have classes in both buildings, it truly didn’t matter which you explored first. As you made your way to the building across the quad, your phone started dinging. Your stupid blood sugar, ruining things again. 

“What’s that noise?” 

Rafe questioned. 

“It’s my glucose monitor on my phone. It’s low again.” 

You looked on at him, defeated. He gently lifted your bag off of his shoulders and took your phone out and looked down at the readings. 76 mg, way too low for his comfort and probably for yours too. 

“It’s 76 mg, Y/N. What do I need to do?” 

“Look for anything in my bag with carbs and I'll check again in 15 minutes.” 

You reply without the urgency that Rafe is feeling. 

“Okay, let’s sit down for the time being. You don’t look like you feel great.” 

He motioned to the bench, just off the sidewalk, close to the arboretum. He knew you wanted to see it before you left campus today, so this was the perfect spot. 

“I’m okay, just sluggish. I thought I was just tired from last night.” 

You let Rafe lead you to sit, his hand on the small of your back. You took his hand as he motioned you down onto the bench and he felt you shaking. Rafe looked through the bag, examining its contents, quickly. 

“Okay, there’s bread and a banana. Which is better?” 

“Give me the bread. It’s this banana nut bread I make every week.” 

“You amaze me you know that?” 

He gave you a soft smile and unwrapped the bread from the Ziploc bag it sat in, handing it to you. 

“Thank you, Rafe, really, it means the world to have you here and to have your help.” 

“Anything for you, I mean that. Are you thirsty?” 

“Yeah, there’s water in there, too.” 

He nodded, reaching back into the bag to retrieve the water bottle and handing it to you. 

“After we get your levels back up, let’s go into the arboretum, and then we will grab some lunch.” 

“Sure, thanks, Rafe. I love the Arboretum here, it’s so beautiful!” 

“Yeah, I know. You’ve only been talking about visiting it since we were ten.” 

“You remember that?” 

“I remember everything you tell me.” 

You blushed at his confession. You sat there, just chatting back and forth for the fifteen minutes it took for the food to settle before you checked your blood sugar again. Rafe pulled your phone back out of your bag and looked at the screen. 100 mg. We’re back in business baby!

“88 mg, back to normal, pretty girl.” 

He spoke, blush coating your cheeks and you watched the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. 

“Thanks, Rafe. You’ve been so good about all of this. It scares most people.” 

You thank him sheepishly. 

“I’m not most people, you know that.” 

He stood up from the bench, placing your backpack on his shoulders once more, and gently took your hand in his, lifting you to your feet. He led you to the sidewalk and you began your trek to the arboretum, his hand on the small of your back once again. You tried not to read too much into his hands constantly being close to you, you and Rafe had always had an intimate relationship that was very hands-on. As you made your way toward the greenhouse, you felt a raindrop hit your nose and before your brain could process what your orbs had just taken in, the bottom of the sky fell out and rain poured from the sky. The same way your eyes leaked when you and Rafe had stopped speaking. As the rain-drenched your clothes, you and Rafe shared a mischievous look, before he grabbed your hand and you both took off running toward your destination. It seemed like you had been running forever when you made it inside the doors of the greenhouse. Once you finally shook the water off of your bodies, reminiscent of a wet dog shaking his fur violently, you had a minute to take Rafe in. The light from the lightning lit up his drenched features. He took his baseball cap off, shaking it out and ringing out the water from his shirt. As he turned to look at you, you moved into him, eyes locking with his, his tall muscular form standing over you. You’re not sure what’s come over you, maybe it’s the care he’s shown you or how different he is now. But, you couldn’t take too much time to process what you were feeling or what you were thinking. The next few moments felt like a scene from a movie, as you placed your hands on his cheeks and kissed his lips, deeply, a moan escaping your lips. He was quick to pull away, bewilderment in his eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry, Rafe. I read the signals wrong.” 

“I’m not sorry because you didn’t misread anything.” 

And just like that, Rafe Cameron was kissing you, gently, deeply, madly, clothes drenched in rainwater and with ecstasy-filled eyes. Rafe Goddamn Cameron was kissing you and you fucking loved it. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

[ragsforless]

Dune crack!au (5)

Feyd: Hey, Paul.

Paul: No.

Feyd: Husband dear?

Paul: Fine. What do you want now?

Feyd: Can I have my knives back?

Paul: No.

Feyd: Pretty please?

Paul: Still no.

Feyd: It’s been 2 months! I want my precious Giedi Prime knives back-

Paul: Not until you say sorry to Gurney and Stilgar.

Feyd: I did nothing wrong! I’m innocent!

Paul: You deliberately stole all of their clothes and made them into freaking tents and curtains!

Feyd: Actually, it was our dear

Princess Irulan who stole them.

Paul: That’s not the point!

Feyd: The point is that I, the gorgeous Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was the one who made the sparkly sand proof tents and curtains-

Paul: Ugh. Muad’Dib, help me.

Feyd: My Lankiveil sewing skills are superior to-

Paul: F*ck your stupid Lankiveil sewing skills! Tell Gurney that you’re sorry right now!

Feyd: It was extremely hot and Irulan and I needed new curtains!

Paul: You could’ve just asked me for new ones instead of stealing Gurney’s galactic underpants-

Feyd: And ruin our yearly budget?! Our monthly savings?! The Arrakeen economy?! Not on my watch, husband. Not on my watch!

Paul: Feyd, babe, calm down-

Feyd: I want my knives back, Paul!

Paul: Give me one good reason-

Feyd: My daddy gave them to me.

Paul: Apologize first!

Feyd: I’m your wife!

Paul: And I’m the Emperor of the known universe!

Feyd: Fine! keep them! Burn them! Throw them away! I don’t care!

Paul: Feyd, listen-

Feyd: But I’m telling Irulan that you’re abusing your powers again.

Paul: No, not her! Don’t tell her-

Feyd: Irulan! Irulan, Paul is being a tyrannical control freak again!

Irulan: *runs in* Feyd, babe, are we in trouble?!

Feyd: Muad’Dib, no.

Irulan: Did our husband find out about our “math” business with Stilgar and his Fremen friends?!

Feyd: No, not yet.

Irulan: Oh, thank Muad’Dib.

Paul: But I’m Muad’Dib-

Feyd: Paul said that he’ll cancel our super secret ✨Music Nights with Shai-Hulud✨ and exclusive ✨Desert Festivals✨ again!

Irulan: *glares at Paul* You evil tyrant, how could you?!

Paul: I- I love ✨Music Nights with Shai-Hulud✨!

Feyd: You don’t even sing!

Paul: I do! I swear I do!

Irulan: Oh, stop changing the freaking subject, Paul!

Paul: Last I’ve checked, we’re still on the same page!

Irulan: You promised me that Feyd and I can sing freely in the desert with Stilgar every other night!

Feyd: Our dear husband also told me that the members of House Corrino are just a bunch of nerdy losers!

Paul: I- I was drunk!

Irulan: Chani! Chani, Paul is abusing his witchy powers again!

Chani: *walks in* Yo, what’s up, losers? How’s life?

Irulan: Our “beloved” husband said that your desert hair sucks!

Chani: He did not-

Irulan: He did!

Feyd: We’re telling the truth.

Paul: Chani bear, we all know that our dear “Drunk Irulan” and “Freaky Feyd-Rautha” are clearly lying-

Irulan: Drunk Irulan?! Who the f*ck is Drunk Irulan?!

Chani: Lol.

Feyd: Chani bear, your “Paular bear” also told me that you smell like a dying Shai-Hulud.

Chani: A what?!

Feyd: A dying ugly ass Shai-Hulud.

Paul: Chani-

Chani: Somebody is sleeping with the sandworms tonight!

Feyd: Yeah! The sandworms!

Irulan: Let’s go sandworms!

Paul: Ughhhh! I knew it! I knew I should’ve stayed single.

[tealrootsgerardwayreal]

Can I just say that I lost, regained, lost again but now regained my hope in MCR5??

This last week was really something.

I feel like with the whole L.S. Dunes album, MCR wouldn't release new music because obviously Frank is going to be busy with that. Like that is what made me not believe in it instead of Frank verbally saying that he doesn't think that MCR will ever work on any new music again.

But also, the day after night one of WWWYF I just started thinking to myself, they look like they're really enjoying this and that made me think why wouldn't they want to release new music, or at least tour again??

For the whole year, I had told myself that if MCR5 wasn't announced at When We Were Young, it's not happening. But this morning after watching that livestream, I couldn't even bring myself to be sad about it because I was on such a high from seeing them perform for two nights in a row. It was only until I was in period 3 Spanish which was so fucking boring might I add I don't like my teacher I want my other one back, that I realised that this probably meant no MCR5. Like they seriously looked like they had no intention of doing anything else after this festival from that performance.

But then I just thought to myself again. That whole "gift of music" shit made me think that maybe, just maybe we'll get MCR5. Obviously Gerard was referring to them performing live, but guys I am so fucking delusional and I do genuinely believe it's real. I don't think that Danger Days will be their last ever work, because it just doesn't sit right with me. After what we saw at When We Were Young Festival, the black funeral-looking outfits, the stuff being displayed behind them, I don't think they would want their last work to be something fun and colourful like Danger Days but something more mature and dark. I guess you could argue that's what Foundations is, but I don't think Foundations is enough to sum up this era of MCR.

As well as that, we know they like playing live. Gerard literally said it during the Return tour and Frank mentioned how he thought of MCR headlining Reading & Leeds (oh my god please do, this one I can actually go to) in a kerrang interview in January this year.

Do I think that it's happening any time soon? No. Do I think that it will happen? Yes. Maybe late 2025, 2026.

As for Frank saying that he doesn't think that MCR will make any new music, I quite simply don't believe him, especially after what he said about MCR's return like DO NOT TRUST THIS MAN GUYS

I'm not trying to be pessimistic, and in all honesty, I am praying that MCR's instagram is gonna make a surprise post and tell us that a fifth album is real the next morning, but I really wanted to post this somewhere and I made this blog to yap about my special interest so I'm sorry if this has upset anyone

If anyone has read this far, please leave your opinion in the comments I wanna hear what other people are thinking

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡dream of me 💭

you've ordered: a slice of coffee cake! enjoy!

"i know it sounds super cliché, but you make me feel some type of way"

paul atreides x fem! freman! reader | word count: 1,166 words

summary: paul's been having rather...vivid dreams about you 💭

warnings: MDNI (everything's pretty mild, but i still want to put a warning just in case) mild spice, mild sexual themes, feminine terms used. let me know if i left anything out!

note: again, sorry if this sucks, i'm not the best at writing intimate scenes like this (even if it's vague) T-T also, this was not proofread-

you.

you were the reason why paul atreides hadn't gotten an adequate night's sleep in the past few weeks. every time he'd close his eyes, instead of seeing pitch black darkness or some other vision, he'd see you. he'd see your beautiful smile, your soft hair, your perfect body. the crazy part was he didn't even know you. paul swore he'd never met you in his life, that these dreams were the first time he'd seen someone like you, your bright blue eyes staring into his soul.

when he'd voiced his concerns about the dreams to his mother, lady jessica assured him that it was just that, a dream. but she knew deep down that sooner or later, you'd meet her son. and it seemed it would be sooner rather than later. with the sudden fall of house atreides, paul and his mother had to evacuate out to the desert, nothing with them except for the ring of house atreides that sat in paul's pocket.

that night, paul dreamt of you again. each dream would start off different: you two meeting in the desert, you two watching the sand dunes together, you teaching him to sandwalk properly, etc. but, every dream always had the same ending.

your lips pressed to his in a kiss so passionate, he could practically taste the spice on your tongue. you'd be sitting in the comfort of a tent, the smell of spice and overwhelming passion intensely pungent. your fingers would tangle into his curly brown hair, paul's hands moving from your waist to the hem of the shirt of your sleepwear. he'd pull away and mumble an ask of permission, the word "yes" leaving your lips before he'd even finished.

he'd see himself slowly peeling your sleepwear off of your body, his heart thudding in his chest. he'd practically feel you undressing him as well, your bodies molding together as one. he'd see everything after that in blurbs: the sound of your heavy breathing, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your fingertips caressing his back as he'd make love to you. then, just as things were getting to their peak, he'd wake up, covered in sweat, his heart going a mile a minute. just who was this girl that occupied his dreams every night?

when paul first saw you in person, he couldn't even speak. his mouth went dry and his hands got super sweaty as his heart thudded in his chest. you looked exactly like he'd dreamed: warm, sun-kissed skin, the prettiest hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and that smile....the smile he'd see every night before he got an almost otherworldly taste of your lips.

you'd only spoken on a few occasions, your attraction to one another growing as the days and weeks passed. but then, he'd changed. he'd started avoiding you, making you think that he just didn't like you. each time you'd try to strike up conversation with him, he'd give you a one word answer and just walk off. after that, you started avoiding him too, walking right past him when he'd ask you something or completely ignoring him during sandworm rides.

enough was enough. one night, you wandered around the tents, finding that paul wasn't in his. lady jessica told you he'd gone to sit up on the dunes, something he'd been doing often since coming to live with the freman. you slowly made your way up the sand dune, sitting a few feet away from him as to not make him uncomfortable.

"did i do something to offend you?" you asked, drawing in the sand with your finger.

paul didn't answer at first, and just as you were about to get up and leave, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back down next to him. he was so close, too close. you could smell the faint spice on him, your heart skipping a beat.

"no....you...didn't do anything."

"then why-"

"i've met you before," he blurted out, a look of confusion crossing your features.

he'd met you before?

"not literally. i've...had dreams, as you know. but recently," paul took a breath, glancing up to meet your crystal blue eyes.

"recently, they've all been about you....actually, that's a lie. i've been seeing you in my dreams since before we landed on arrakis."

your eyes widened a little, your body relaxing a bit. he'd been dreaming about you all this time.

"what do you see in these...dreams?" you asked. it was evident that your question had an interesting answer by the way paul glanced away from you for a second.

"i see you, laid out in front of me in all your glory. your eyes, it's as if they're...pulling me in. you lean in, then i lean in...then-" he trailed off, the pale skin of his cheeks turning a shade of red.

then it clicked, and you were blushing too.

"....you know...i'd be lying if i said i didn't develop feelings for you the first few weeks you were here..." you admitted, feeling a strange tinge in your chest. paul let go of your wrist, his hand slowly moving up to cup your cheek.

"do you want me to kiss you?" the question was so simple yet held so much weight.

your heart was beating in your ears, a shiver running down your spine as his breath hit your cheek.

"...yes....yes, i do. do you...want to kiss me?" you questioned, the look in his eyes making your knees go weak. good thing you were sitting.

"more than anything." he whispered before closing the gap between the two of you. the kiss started out soft and slow, soon taking a passionate turn.

it wasn't long before you were dragging paul through the sand dunes, back to the privacy of your tent. once the two of you were inside, paul was on you in an instant, pressing you against the makeshift mattress as he kissed you with newfound fervor. your fingers tangled into his hair, just like he'd dreamed of. but this was better than his dreams, by a thousandfold. passionate, breathy whispers, heavy breathing, and words of love and affection filled the air of the tent as the two of you melded together.

by the time it was all over, paul held you close, his face buried into your neck as he caught his breath. you breathed deeply, your free hand gently stroking his hair as he shifted to look up at you.

"you're definitely the girl of my dreams" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your shoulder.

you felt your heart warm from his words, pressing a kiss to his forehead and letting your lips linger there for a moment.

"i love you, y/n~" paul said as his eyelids started to grow heavy.

you smiled softly, moving to nuzzle up to his chest. at that moment, you knew you'd forever love this caladanian for as long as you lived.

"i love you too, paul atreides~" 💭

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[annievrse]

boyfriend!eren headcanons pt. 5 .*･｡ﾟ

—ᡣ𐭩 headcanons a/n: u guys love him, so i will provide more...... c/w: zeke is a father (his kid is named oliver), use of y/n once part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

children LOVE bf!eren and he treats them like they're his friends instead of actual kids

bf!eren 'hangs out' with his nephew instead of babysitting him. he talks to oliver about the basketball game on tv like he's his best mate..... asking for his opinion, if he wants a beer, about his doctor's visit yesterday, 'hey y/n, can i give him some pizza?'..... when ollie is literally 4 months old

bf!eren wears nba jerseys or oversized graphic tees with sweat shorts...... that's just his style. i really can't see him in anything other than sweatpants, a hoodie, and his bigass dunks when he goes out.... sorry to all the fashion girlies 😔

BUT, if it's somewhere important (team dinner, awards night, a wedding, a ball perhaps etc), then he does wear a suit & dress shoes (all black). he's not THAT laidback ok

bf!eren surprises you with your favourite dessert every friday night (not really a surprise atp, but it's the thought that counts <333)

wherever you sit, bf!eren has his arm over the back of the chair/couch you're on

bf!eren LOVES sci-fi movies from the 70s & 80s, hence the back to the future DVDs (part 4), the star wars funko pops (leia, darth vader, chewie, luke) he has around his room, and the framed dune poster in his living room

bf!eren listens to rap music, mostly kendrick, travis, eminem, baby keem, chief keef, yeat... i could go on forever. BUT he also loves 80s rock (eg his bon jovi vinyl (part 4), inxs CDs, and many more), and 90s & 00s club music

you keep extra snacks in your backpack for bf!eren because he gets hungry in class AFKJSAFJ

bf!eren flirts with you 24/7, and pretends to flirt with you as a stranger in public sometimes because he is SILLY

you both have an obsession with taking photos of each other (but find it annoying when the other does it) (e.g. on a picnic, you've got your phone out, ready to take a picture of bf!eren absolutely destroy his sandwich, but when he sees you, he tilts his head and sighs, covering his face with one hand and his other holds the sandwich to his mouth) (e.g. 2. you're reading on the couch, bf!eren is sat across from you, your legs on top of his. and because eren never turns his phone ringer off, you hear him take a photo of you. you groan instantly and cover your face with the book, whining his name. he just giggles and adds it to his folder of photos of you)

bf!eren throws grapes at you when you ignore him (lovingly)

bf!eren buys your favourite album on vinyl so he can keep it at his house

bf!eren likes being the little spoon but will be the big spoon if you don't want to <3

bf!eren plays with your fingers when watching tv/movies because he can't sit still to save his life

bf!eren is a golden retriever boyfriend, but he can be such an asshole!!

in part 2 i mentioned he can be so condescending and petty in an argument, and that's because he doesn't know how to express his emotions in a healthy way (but he's working on it with you!!)

in basketball games against certain colleges, bf!eren gets so fired up and aggressive and lippy. he talks so much shit on the court (he's known for it), and isn't afraid to take shit either (which pisses off the other team, and the whole cycle starts again)

but, it's a bonus for you when he gets off the court because he's looking extra hot..... and he knows it...... asshole

bf!eren is such a gossip too, like he hears ONE thing from jean in passing, and suddenly everyone in the group has heard about it... but everybody already knows not to tell bf!eren anything they don't want anyone else to know (the group still makes jokes about how poor jean got scammed by a fake protein powder website (he lost $200 HA.... sorry))

lmao bf!eren's such a little shit <3

[mooodyblue]

I know it isn’t in your request list but would you be willing to write something with callum turner and austin as cgs to a gender neutral reader? I recently read your hc of Callum with lil austin and it was so much fun!

two men and a baby | callum turner/austin butler x little!reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: age regression (sfw)

a/n: this has been in my asks since april ;-; hope you're still out there nonny D: it's taken me that long to finish this unfortunately, hope you enjoy! sorry for any mistakes or typos, i so badly wanted to get something out lol

masterlist directory

callum was a close friend of austin's. they’d met before filming masters of the air, but only grew closer as filming went on. they went their separate ways after doing some press for the series, austin leaving a little early to do some press for dune. but even after, austin was still booked and busy for the whole year. 

he had some time before getting busy with another film and it just so happened that callum was in town, the two had some catching up to do. austin and him went out for dinner together, having a couple drinks like two old friends that hadn’t seen each other in years. after dinner he invited callum over, wanting him to stop by and say hi to you.

“y’know we celebrated two years a week ago. crazy, isn’t it?” austin unlocked his front door, letting callum step in. “we should double date sometime—” he chuckled, “you and dua, us two. it’d be fun.”

callum shoved his hands in his pockets with a nod, “she’d love that.”

usually, you were in the living room catching up on a show or watching a movie until he got home. he furrowed his brows once he noticed you weren’t around, deciding to head to your shared bedroom. he frowned seeing you in bed, sitting beside you and rubbing at your arm. “baby,” he said softly, getting a soft hum in response. “you alright?”

“mhm…” you responded, “sleepy.”

he was about to reply himself when he saw the plushie tucked in the comforter with you, sighing softly. “alright, honey.” he pressed his lips against your forehead, his tone going gentle. “callum’s here, wanted to say hi. i can kick him out—”

“no.” you quickly shot up in bed, the expression on austin’s face going to confused. “i wanna say hi.”

he shifted to sit beside you, keeping his hand on your back. “baby, he doesn’t know.”

you frowned and looked into your lap at his words. austin always knew when you were feeling little, of course, the plushie probably gave it away. but your tone and mannerisms changed quite a bit when you were feeling smaller. some of his friends knew, and some didn’t just out of fear of being judged. if austin could, he’d tell all his friends–he wanted to always brag about how sweet you were. 

but now? callum. you weren’t sure if you wanted to be big just to go say hi to callum or to just…tell him. your brain wasn’t all there, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to really make any decisions. then again, you liked callum a lot. you trusted him, austin trusted him. 

austin could tell you were deep in thought, placing a hand on your knee as a sweet gesture. “hey,” he said softly, “you don’t have to do what you aren't comfortable with.”

you still seemed unsure, fidgeting with your fingers as you thought about it again. “is he gonna be mean about it?”

austin shook his head, “i highly doubt it, baby. highly doubt it.” there was still a bit of hesitation on your face. he never wanted you to feel like you had to tell people. “i can tell him you're feelin’ sick, that you're up here resting.” 

“no, no.” you shook your head. “i-i think…i wanna say hi. i wanna tell him.” 

“how about this…” he took his hands in yours, his voice sweet. “i’ll go talk to him, explain it to him and see if he's on board with it, alright?” 

he was happy to see you agree, that's a relief. callum was one of his closest friends, he couldn't see the man making it weird or finding it uncomfortable. all it took was a light conversation on the couch with him to help him understand what you were going through. he didn't have to explain why or what caused you do fully go into that headspace, callum understood. 

“so…i should talk to them like they're a toddler?” callum reiterated. “because that's what their headspace is like?” 

austin nodded, “yeah, pretty much. if you're comfortable enough, i’m sure they’d love to have someone to play with other than me. so many toys stashed away in here.” he chuckled. 

he glanced around the room, wondering where austin had hid everything. he had to give him props, hiding such a huge part of their relationship. “i’m not judgemental.” 

“i know.” austin nodded, smiling at him. 

it really felt like callum was a natural. he loved hearing about every little stuffed animal you owned—the tiger was the first one austin bought you, the elephant was from the zoo, your favorite plushie was his favorite story of them all. callum made note to buy you a plushie too, although he feared austin may feel a slight pang of jealousy if he did. 

with the two men engrossed in a conversation, sprawled on the sofa while you watched a cartoon—you jumped up suddenly to look at a shelf with some of your little-er games and puzzled, picking up a puzzle where you had to match the shapes with their holes. you set it on the coffee table and tugged at both austin and callum’s sleeves. “puzzle, please?” 

austin chuckled down at you and your mannerisms, “well, not the best way to ask. but you said please.” he glanced at callum, “you in?” 

callum nodded, “i love a good puzzle.” he got down on the floor with you, austin beside him. “ah, this one looks a bit tricky, don't it?” 

this was when callum truly understood how your headspace worked, he noticed how you struggled to get the square into the circle piece—something that was so simple to many adults, not all. he never judged, he was a patient man. “y’might need some help there, kiddo.” 

normally, austin would give you a chance to figure it out yourself. 

but you were struggling a little more than usual this time around, grumbling and constantly putting the puzzle piece into the wrong hole when your brain was telling you so strongly that it was the right spot. why wasn't it fitting? 

callum scooted over to you, lifting you into his lap and chuckling. “hard, isn't it?” he was completely focused on you, not even noticing the loving gaze austin had on not just you, but him too. 

“why doesn't it fit?” you whined. 

he took your small wrist in his, trying to move it with the piece in her hand. “y’see? this is a square, honey. you're trying to put it in the circle. doesn't fit cos’ it’s got edges, pointy edges.” he explained, running his finger along the edges. “try putting it here.” he moved it to the next slot, “does it fit?”

you frowned, “no.” 

“alright,” he nodded, “try the next one.”

you moved your wrist over to the next spot, gasping when it actually fit. “it fit!” you exclaimed, “look, cal!” you pulled his attention back, “it fit!” 

“good job, honey!” callum cheered, clapping excitedly and patting the top of your head. 

“how about the next piece, huh?” austin grinned, passing you the next one.

“daddy!” you made grabby hands at austin, wanting him to hold you next. him and callum immediately switched spots, now callum was looking at both you and austin with a lovingly gaze. it was such a sweet dynamic. he couldn't get enough of you. 

truth is, callum always had a soft spot for you. he had a soft spot for austin too. he couldn't help the googly eyes sometimes. the two of you just had the sweetest dynamic going on, he wanted in on it too. not romantically, of course. he loved his girlfriend, but he wanted to spend time with you again for sure. 

it didn't stop at puzzles, he played a little more with you, coloring too, which he enjoyed doing a lot with you. austin seemed to notice how relaxed callum seemed to be with you, letting you both bond.

it ended with the three of you on the couch, you in the middle, austin on the other side and callum on your other. you dozed off in the middle of your cartoon, head resting on callums shoulder. 

austin's gaze met with callum’s a soft smile playing on his lips. “what do you think?” he asked in a hushed tone, not wanting to wake sleeping beauty in between them.

“set me up for a play date.”

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

Good evening, my Darlings! I'm sorry about the lapse between updates, but I have a new chapter up on AO3 with the full fic and full content warnings and will have the newest chapter chapter down below.

Chapter Summary: The Reader tries to understand the Harkonnens and gain favor with her husband the old-fashioned way (Part Two.)

Tagged: @alexandrainlove @richardslady121 @blazeflays @wo-ming-bai @cavillandevanssandwhich If anyone else would like to be tagged, please let me know!

Content Warning: 18+; problematic smut; arranged marriage; dubious consent; implied/referenced child abuse; under negotiated kink; problematic BDSM; internalized shame; mild degradation; oral sex (m+f receiving) throat training, come eating, collars and lashes, nipple clamps/nipple play; Feyd-Rautha; impact play/slapping; semi-public sex; vaginal sex; vaginal fingering; knife play; switching; riding; Feyd's strange and fucked up methods of showing affection

Chapter Nine: Quick to Learn, Eager to Please

Your training continues.  You wouldn’t call your progress astonishing, but after a week, and then two, you find yourself first sliding into the familiarity of your old training and then picking up on new techniques.  You can’t help but smile to yourself when you get in an offensive, notice an opening that you can take that you wouldn’t have just a week earlier.  When Feyd-Rautha says, as he watches you spar with Korvo, “You remembered what I told you about your footwork.”

His own regimen is far more extensive, of course.  There’s one morning when he strips off his sweaty training shirt and you notice striations in the muscle fibers in his chest that you don’t remember seeing before.  Perhaps it’s the brighter lighting compared to your bedrooms.

The soreness becomes normal, stiffness you stretch out every morning before you leave for the Training Halls and soothe in the afternoons a couple of times a week in the Relaxation Chambers before resuming your self-imposed Harkonnen language lessons.  The routine is its own comfort that tides you over as you receive letters from back home that all sound relieved that you’re still in one piece.  And, somehow, you are.  These elements–the training, the moments spent in the library and studying the Harkonnen battle language–make you feel a little more like this Fortress is a home that you can live in.  You’re not confident enough to try and impress Feyd yet with what you’ve learned but have found that Idrisa’s an easy tutor.  The first time you tried speaking, unprompted, in battle language to her she did an almost comical double-take before politely offering advice on how to improve your pronunciation.

“The Na-Baron will be delighted to know that you’re making an effort to learn more about his culture,” she added to soften any potential blow to your ego.  Since then, every day, you exchange basic greetings and sentences in Harkonnen with her, and each day you try to add a little more.  Idrisa’s gentle, but honest once she realizes that you won’t be offended by her critique.  

The matter of your pregnancy is still in question–it’s still too early to tell, not for lack of trying.   The collar and leash make a reappearance–on a night he also placed metal clamps on your nipples and took your mouth again until between the shock of the clamps barely fading with time and the suffocating pressure of his cock venturing further and further within the wet cavern of your mouth had tears streaming down your face and silent pleas for him to finally fuck you–but strangely enough the flogger, as he calls it, hasn’t.  When he strikes your backside he seems to prefer his own hands, maybe because for every time his hand descends it stings his palm as well.  Sometimes he brings out ropes, one night ties your arms behind your back and takes you from behind, one hand in your hair until he comes hard and pulls out only to bury his face against your backside and lick your cunt, tasting his own spend as it leaks out of you until you shudder and climax around the flicker of his tongue.  You’re past the point of being shocked by the idea of your husband tasting his own semen; it’s funny to think that such a thing would’ve horrified you a few weeks ago.  Most of this probably would.  

The night that he introduces the clamps you use his bathroom afterwards, see your splotchy face and worn body, and wonder how much of your enjoyment is genuine and how much is simply a tool to acclimate to it.  Does it really make a difference?  The pain from the clamps had gone from sharp pain to an insistent ache that left you trembling.  The way he’d held your head in place as he’d guided his cock into your mouth and kept it there, pulling out only long enough to let you breathe and pushing back in for longer increments until you felt almost light-headed.  Does it really matter how or why it made you sufficiently wet to take him inside of you?  Is it not just easier to accept it than to dwell on the accompanying shame of it?

So far, you’ve realized, he hasn’t asked you to hurt him beyond scratching his back and arms when he’s inside of you, or biting down on the meat of his shoulder until you break skin.  Hasn’t asked you to subjugate him with the silver collar and chain he keeps, always noticeable but never mentioned after that night.  Perhaps he’s waiting for the right time, the right sign that you’d be able to hurt him as deliciously as he does you.

You think of the silver collar and how it would look against his pale skin as he waits patiently for instruction, like a fierce but loyal guard dog.

The image of it makes something you can’t quite name unfurl like black smoke in the pit of your stomach.  

Between training you to fight and training you to take his cock in a variety of positions, Feyd gives ample reason for you to enjoy the soothing attention you get in the Relaxation Chambers.

Once, when you enter the chambers, you see another woman walking by you; she’s well-dressed, clearly the wife of a high-ranking member of Harkonnen militia, and you speak before you can stop yourself.

“Hello,” you tell her, and she stops, blinking in confusion.  You’re starting to get better at gauging peoples’ ages around here without hair or eyebrows, and you guess her to be in her early thirties, with a round face and hazel eyes.

She stands, awkwardly, clearly wondering why you’ve just spoken to her, before inclining her head.  “Good afternoon, Na-Baroness.”

“My apologies.  I don’t think I’ve learned your name yet,” you tell her, extending your hand.

She takes it in a gentle shake.  “Indeed you have not, Na-Baroness.  It’s Liana Druganin, wife of Piter Druganin,” she says, managing to keep a polite tone before she drops your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Druganin,” you tell her with a small smile.

She reciprocates and it looks as manufactured as the fake wood paneling.  

You’ve seen this before, but until now have been spared actually experiencing it: that moment when an attempt at friendship is made and the recipient can only think, Why are you talking to me?  Go away .  She won’t say it, not in a thousand years, because you outrank her.  But the look on her face, almost bordering on panic at the idea that you’ll keep trying to talk to her, says it all.

You clench your jaw, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.  “Well,” you say, “Have a lovely afternoon, Lady Druganin.”  You both know that it’s not true, and that it’s also not true when she replies with a feeble echo of your sentiments.

She turns to go with a polite bow of her head and a stiffness in her shoulders that hadn’t been there before you spoke to her.  You watch after her and for a moment, she starts to turn around before thinking better of it.

You try to stay resolute.  No matter , you tell yourself.  They will start by respecting me.  They don’t have to like me yet .  My children will play with their children and I will be their Baroness.  They’ll learn.

Still, the sting of it is enough that you have to look over a letter a friend sent you to remind you that you’re perfectly capable of making them.

You write another.  There’s a growing pile of letters that you keep in a desk drawer and in moments like these pull them out and re-read them and remember that even if they’re not here, there are still people who love you.

Feyd’s birthday is almost here–in a week the Bene Gesserit will visit and Feyd will execute prisoners in the arena under the guise of sport.  There will be hours of celebrating afterwards with more flash than the solemnity of a Harkonnen wedding.  You want to ask if there will be dancing, because there wasn’t at your wedding.  You’re not sure what Harkonnen dancing would even look like.  Or music, beyond ceremonial war chants.  The party afterwards will also be the first time you’re properly presented to the Fortress as the Na-Baron.

Not that you’ll be expected to make any speeches or hold anyone’s attention, but a dress is being made for you to commemorate the occasion and you’ll represent not a person but an idea, a symbol.  This is the part of marriage you’ve been preparing for most of your life.  When you were younger your mother was honest about what marriage would look like for you; that your husband would probably be someone you didn’t know very well or perhaps not at all until the wedding, and that it would be your duty to represent the best qualities of your House and, if your groom was from a different House, his as well.  That for you, marriage would be about politics first and that love would come eventually as you got acclimated to your new husband and the role you’d be playing, and even then that it might not be a passionate or easy kind of love.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen isn’t a creature compatible with something like love.  You were almost surprised that there’s a word for it in his language.  You’re not sure if you could ever grow to love him, or he you.  You’re not sure if it’s an emotion he’s capable of feeling or if the strangely companionable routine you’ve developed with him is the best you’re going to get.  

Your children, though, you’re certain you’ll love, even if they’re raised to be cold, even as they’ll never quite look like you, and you’ll teach them how to express it.  You’ll make sure that no matter how strict and unforgiving their father will bring them up that they’ll always have you.

In a letter addressed only to your mother you ask her what you can barely form in your own mind and couldn’t possibly ask anyone else here. You ask her how early she was able to tell, because you can’t.  You must be, or else something’s very wrong, but you haven’t had a moment after he’s finished inside of you that you felt life growing there.  You don’t feel different yet, and certainly don’t look different.  When do you feel a tithe to them?  You look at your stomach in the mirror as if expecting it to swell already and wonder if the rush of maternal love will come once you can confirm it or if it happens once you have the baby.  There’s no shortage of information on the physical aspects of pregnancy but nothing on that.  The closer it gets to the Bene Gesserit’s visit the more real all this becomes: you’re going to be a mother, on a brutal and unforgiving planet that you’re constantly torn between assimilating into and rejecting to maintain your own sense of self.  You’re going to need all the help you can get.

There’s another shift, four days before Feyd-Rautha’s birthday.

It starts out as a normal training session, with Feyd putting you through close range maneuver drills.

While the rest of the Fortress is busy preparing for his birthday celebrations, he seems somewhat detached.  You’d assumed he’d be more excited at the chance to kill more prisoners in front of an adoring crowd; he’d seemed like he was having a decent enough time killing drugged men for Geidi Prime’s entertainment before the wedding.  This, however, he treats like an obligation that he discusses only in the most pragmatic terms and as part of his responsibilities as Na-Baron.  You’re not entirely sure why, or what if any moral quandary he might have now that he didn’t nearly a month ago.  But you decide that your grasp of Harkonnen pronunciation has improved enough that you can give him an early birthday present and surprise him with your efforts so far.

It’s while you separate long enough to take a minute-long break that you decide that now is as good a time as any.  You take a breath and remember how Idrisa taught you to say the words before offering him a friendly smile and throwing out the words in imperfect but improved Harkonnen.

“ Do you know what you want for your birthday, Husband? ”

He blinks, taken aback for the sweetest of moments before tilting his head and giving you a small smile as if to say, Huh.  How about that.  Like you’re a dog that’s performed an amusing trick.  It would feel embarrassing were it not for that he could have had a much worse reaction.

He responds in kind, with what you can only partially interpret as “ Yes, wife, and I ….” something garbled or a phrase you haven’t learned yet, “ what is mine .”  

Well.  Tone and implications count for a lot.  You might not understand the wording exactly, but you think you get the general picture he’s painting for you as you feel yourself blush.  He circles around you and adds, speaking faster than the instructions you’re used to hearing and a few words are indecipherable, “ I’ll eghl as my wife, lawswh you off to all of Geidi Prime .”

Before you have time to respond he locks you into position, his front to your back and his blade against your throat.  “ To zxncoh to my people that you took my seed and you’re sadghl my heir .”

Other people can hear, you think, scandalized.  Maybe not all that well, he’s not speaking loudly, and other people are focused on their own training but still…

His cock is hard and flushed against the small of your back.  Your head is spinning.  He inhales sharply, as if he can smell the growing wetness between your legs.  He withdraws his blade, holsters it in his scabbard, and turns off his shield.  On instinct, you turn off yours.  There’s a couple of seconds you’re both still, and he opens his mouth, nuzzles your hair.  And then…

“Everyone out!” he calls out, the gravel of his rasp not suited for yelling, but he manages all the same.  A servant opens the door and everyone files out without a word in less than a minute, and then the door slams shut.

He turns you around in his arms and kisses you hard.

He’d talked about doing this the first day he trained you.  It’s really a testament to his self-restraint that he’s waited this long to do it, you think as he backs you into the wall and braces one forearm beside your head.  His other hand sneaks into the waist of your pants and beneath your undergarment.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and gasp into it as he brings his fingertips over your bud and circles lightly, at first anyway.  One fingertip slides along the slit of you, feeling for your growing wetness as he rests his lips against your hairline.  You feel him break into a self-satisfied grin as he says, “I think you can handle two, don’t you, pet?” and slips his middle and index fingers in without waiting for you to respond.  You try to tamp down on your whimpers, the way the echoes of the room amplify every sound, including the slick wet noises of his fingers twisting and pumping inside of you, finally crooking forward the way you like.  It’s hardly fair of him to use that against you.

Oh, Great Mother, they’ve probably got their ears pressed up against the door, listening in, hearing everything—

–And then he slides in a third finger and crooks them again.

You buck your hips, the wind knocked out of you in a silent scream.

“You like that?” Feyd asks, his voice in your ear.

You know I do.  For fuck’s sake, Feyd, just do it again.   You let out a desperate whine, biting your lip as you nod and he rubs you down again, feeling you shake around him.  You feel searingly hot, knowing your face is flushed, knowing that everyone outside knows what the two of you are doing.

You made this choice weeks ago.  You made this choice over a month ago when the Reverend Mother told you who you were to marry.

You still his hand, giving a small nod as if to say, I’m ready, and he withdraws, tilting his head and waiting.  You hardly take a breath before you turn and descend to your knees, pulling your pants and smallclothes down your thighs and spreading your legs as far as you reasonably can before bracing your hands against the wall.  Your breath is already ragged.  You rest your forehead in between your hands.

“ Fuck me, husband ,” you manage in Harkonnen.

Feyd huffs a laugh and settles down behind you.  The sound of him unfastening the front of his pants is shockingly loud within the cavernous expanse of the room, and even as you’d wanted to hold back on your noises he punctures them out of you with each thrust.

You’ll forgive yourself this indignity.  You’re doing it for a greater purpose , you tell yourself.

And then Feyd thrusts at just the right angle that has you letting out a strangled moan, shaking around him, barely able to hold onto the wall in front of you before he brings a hand between your legs.

“That’s it, pet,” he murmurs in your ear.  “Don’t hold back.  Make all the pretty noises you can,” he says and brings his fingers back to your bud.  You cry out, tears pricking up at the corners of your eyes and you’re not entirely sure from what, clenching hard as he uses the pressure around him to power through, pulling you onto him as he growls and snarls and fills you to the brim.

You tremble through it all, shutting your eyes.  A few months ago you would never have pictured yourself doing this, letting a man fuck you from behind while over a dozen people in a hallway mere meters away could hear, and certainly would never have pictured coming from it.  A few months ago you would never have pictured marrying a Harkonnen.

Afterwards, he holds himself to your back, giving one last soft thrust before pulling out.  You yank your smallclothes and pants up as fast as possible to avoid any kind of spill, wincing at the mess of fluids smeared between you and the gusset.

“Is it always messy like this?” you ask as Feyd tucks himself back in and rises to stand.

“If you’re doing it right,” he says, offering a hand to guide you up.

Once he has you he cups your chin with his hand that had fondled you under your smallclothes.  You know immediately what he’s about to do and open your mouth, allowing him access as he slips his fingers inside.

“Clever thing, aren’t you?” Feyd says, watching his fingers go in, watching your eyes as he pushes them until they reach your soft palate and you just barely manage not to gag at the taste and scent of your own juices on his fingertips, the brush of his fingertips pressed too far in for comfort.  He withdraws them as he says, “Quick to learn, eager to please.”

You shut your eyes, exhaling shakily as you lower your head.  You can’t name the twisted combination of shame and pride at his condescending praise.

He cradles your face again.  “None of that, now.  Look at me, pet,” he says.  And when you do, swallowing around nothing, jaw clenched, he looks at your face, studying the look in your eyes as if he can understand what you’re feeling better than you can.

He kisses you again, bruising, searing, burying his other hand in your hair.  He gives you a moment to catch your breath when he releases you, and then looks at the door.  His eyes flicker between you and it for a moment before he strides towards it to let everyone back inside.

“I would never have done what we just did for anyone other than you,” you call after him before he can get there, before you can stop yourself.  “ Never .”

He stops and looks at you.  “I believe you believe that, Y/N,” he says.  “You were the first virgin I think I’ve ever been with.”

You furrow your brow.  “Really?” you ask, his response briefly taking you out of the embarrassed pit you’d started digging for yourself.  You’d sort of assumed that he’d had a history of deflowering frightened young women.  Sort of assumed that it was one of his Na-Baronly duties.

He gives a mono-syllabic grunt in the affirmative before opening the door.

You don’t envy everyone shuffling in, avoiding looking at either of you directly as they offer quick honorifics and resume their training.

You’re too shaken to be of much use for the rest of your session, not to Feyd’s surprise.  

“Let’s call it a morning, Y/N.  Go to your quarters, take a shower.  I’ll see you at breakfast,” he says, and you’re biting down on a sarcastic, why thank you, Na-Baron. The squelch of your come leaking out of me is a bit distracting.  I appreciate you noticing , when he leans in and gives you a brief kiss on the mouth.

You blink in surprise.  He seldom kisses you when there are other people around, and certainly not in front of his soldiers while he’s training.  You hesitate before returning it.  

“ Thank you, husband ,” you tell him in Harkonnen as you pull away.  The curve of his mouth twitches in what you hope is a smile.

You’re certain after that you’ve gotten a good amount of leverage, as much as you’re probably going to get until you become a mother, but what then?  

You can learn to live with Feyd as the father of your children, with him being the formative authority figure in their lives.  You’ll never try to convince yourself that deep down he’s a kind and decent man, but you’ve noticed that he has his own, albeit twisted, set of moral standards.  It’s the idea of the Baron being in their lives at all that worries you.  You can’t imagine any way in which his presence could be a good thing, especially for any sons you’ll have–and surely Feyd must know this?

A thought forms and grows even as you try to shut it out.  It’s impossible, you tell yourself, and still you can’t help but wonder.

At dinnertime the following evening your grip tightens on your fork as at the head of the table the Baron eats roasted bird down to the bone and you wonder how fragile his own must be after what must be years now of not being able to move on his own.  

There’s not a chance that you’d be able to get rid of him personally.  You’d be killed long before such an attempt could come to fruition.  But you’ve read a bit about Harkonnen history, and Barons have been usurped before, ones in declining health replaced by those who’d go on to prove more capable and more ruthless than their predecessors.  Feyd knows his own history far better than you do, he’s read about this.

He tried to kill his uncle once.  What’s stopping him now that he’s entering the very prime of his life?  When he has a wife and, soon, children to think about?  When the Baron’s over seventy and hasn’t been able to walk on his own in years?

Can he be convinced?

You keep your head down, glad that no one here can read your mind, glad that the Baron only seems to pay attention to you if he seems to be wondering if it’s too early for you to start showing.  

I’ll spare you the suspense: it is, you’d tell him if you had the nerve. 

That night Feyd comes to your room and takes you and there’s a moment between when he finishes and when he decides to sleep in his own quarters that you think about suggesting it to him.

The people respect and fear you .  It’s your time.  You’re ready.

You have a duty to Geidi Prime and the Bene Gesserit and me to keep our children safe and there’s no guarantee of that unless you get rid of the Baron.

In the end you can’t bring yourself to say it.  Not yet.

You wake up to the feeling of a body behind you and cold steel against your throat, and it takes you less than a second to realize that you’re not dreaming, and the person shifting in behind you and bringing both arms around you is very much real.

You let out one scream, to alert any guards nearby, but nothing else to waste your precious breath as you reach for the forearm leading to the hand that’s holding the knife and jerk one shoulder up as hard as you can, trying to dislodge him.

This is so much easier standing up than laying on your side, you realize with immediate clarity, having never felt more awake in your life as you try to duck your head in the scant gap that you’ve made, grabbing his wrist and struggling as he refuses to give you enough space to properly move.

You still manage to keep your hand on his forearm, ducking just enough to squirm out of his arms and plunge his knife into his ribs and then…

The knife hums but doesn’t pierce his skin.  

He has his shield activated , you realize, panic setting in, eyes trying to adjust to the dark.  If I can evade him just long enough to get his shield off then maybe–

You bite down on the man’s other arm, hard, breaking the skin and drawing a moan out of the man behind you that you don’t have time to recognize sounds familiar– you just need to get on top of him, get the upper hand –and duck under his arm long enough to turn and swing one leg over the man’s waist and pin him on his back to your bed, finally wrenching the knife out of his hand as you point it as his chest and…

You stare, panting and stunned.  It hadn’t occurred to you to question how someone could get into your chambers, hadn’t registered that your assailant was wearing pants but no shirt.  All you could think about was the knife at your throat.

Pinned underneath you is your husband.  He fixes you with a smile, looking utterly pleased with himself.

“You’re improving; that’s good,” he says.

You nearly drop your knife, barely having the mind to set it on the bed next to Feyd’s shoulder, realizing that you’re sitting directly on top of his stiffening groin.  Feyd turns off his shield device before propping himself up on his forearms.

“I had to make sure that you were prepared.  If you’re ever ambushed it won’t be in a training room with a warning,” he says.  He ignores your ragged breaths and stunned expression quickly turning to anger.

You slap him as hard as you can.  The cracking sound could deafen you; pain shoots down your wrist from the impact.

What the fuck?!  I was terrified! you almost say before he sits all the way up and pulls you into a ferocious kiss.  You give back as good as you receive, almost snarling into it, gripping the back of his neck, before pulling away for breath.

“I’m fucking furious with you,” you tell him.

“Good,” he says, and pulls you into another kiss.  He gives a quiet moan at the taste of his blood in your mouth, staining your teeth, and licks it off of you.  He draws an arm across your naked back and buries his other hand in your hair.  Anger turns to adrenaline turns to arousal that has you panting against his mouth before something occurs to you.

“Wait, what happened to–” there are always a couple of armed guards at each end of the expansive hallway.  They would’ve been able to hear your screaming.

“I told the guards that I was conducting a drill and that if they interfered that I’d feed them alive and screaming to my Darlings,” he says.

You’re deranged , you think, and reach for his pants with only one goal in mind, and for a moment you picture him flipping the two of you over, fucking you into the mattress like he does every night and sometimes in the mornings, reducing you to mewls and whimpers.

No.

This time he can be the one who gets fucked, that follows the rhythm of your hips.  You’ve only come close to that kind of leverage once before but if he wants to be inside of you tonight this is what he’s going to get.

You grab the dagger left on the sheets and press it to his collarbone.

“You nearly killed me,” you tell him.  “I’ll take what I want from you.” 

He grins at you with his black teeth and gums.  “I was only trying to make you think I would kill you, but you did well, so you can take whatever you want.”

You exhale through your nostrils.  Think I’m bluffing? you want to ask as the tip of the blade just barely pierces his alabaster skin.  An image flashes like lightning in your mind and grows like the clap of thunder–him prone underneath you, laying back and taking everything you give him.  Your mouth falls open at the idea and shuts again as you push at his chest, watching as he goes down.

Something flashes in those blue eyes of his as he has just enough reach to turn on the light and you relax the blade just enough to let him do it, let him give you a good look at him.

“Go on,” he says.  “Take your reward.”

You huff an-almost laugh, stunned, delighted.  You think of him collared but quickly dismiss the notion.  Next time.  You’re too impatient to leave the room.  You look down at Feyd, pliant and waiting beneath you, and press the tip of the knife just barely against his skin.  “Help me get your pants off,” you tell him as you raise your hips enough to give him access.

His eyes blaze as he does as he’s told, raising his hips to push them down his legs, kicking a little to get them further down.  Do they come all the way off?  Probably not.  You don’t care.  His cock stands at attention, and you relinquish the knife in order to brace a hand on his stomach, your other hand positioning him at your entrance.  Feyd’s hands in turn cup your hips.  It takes some finessing, moving on top of him; it’s not a position you’ve explored much before but you’re slick enough that it’s effortless to line him up against you and slide down onto him.

“You wanna ride me?” he says as you rock your hips for the first time and a moan spills from your lips.  He feels so good, you think, almost dazed, mouth falling open.

“Is that what this is called?” you ask, resting your hands on his chest, taking the opportunity to squeeze and grope whatever you can find.

Feyd lets out a breathless laugh, sliding his own hands over your hips, bringing one up further to squeeze one of your breasts in turn.  “Among other things,” he says.

You almost laugh as well; this way it’s almost like his body’s a fun toy you can use to amuse and please yourself.  You have better access to the rest of him this way, and he you.  He’s never really let you touch him like this, and you wonder–he doesn’t have breasts, but would he still like it if you touched his nipples?  You rock your hips, still getting a feel for the rise and fall, the drag of it, as you circle your thumb around one of them before pinching the bud between it and your forefinger.  For a moment you expect him to snap at you, grab your wrist and growl a warning at you, but he twitches and gasps and you repeat the gesture.

Your breath hitches and you can’t help but smile for a moment, delighted at the new information you have on this man, the vulnerability of him under you.  Would he, under the right circumstances, allow the clamps he’s used only once on you?  You bring one hand to his bare thigh as you try out different movements and speeds, oscillating between a rolling grind, bouncing up and down, a combination of both as the friction from this position is a unique thrill that builds the heat within you just as fast as the drag of him inside of you.

He brings one hand to your neck, thumb to your pulse point, and gives a light squeeze.  You just bear down and ride him harder as if to say, You think that scares me?  I know you, husband.  You’ve hurt a lot of people and you’re going to hurt more, but not me.  Not in a way that I can’t handle and come back from.

The clarity of it is almost shocking, but you know in your heart that it’s true; even tonight is his own perverse kind of fondness.

What a strange fucking husband, what a strange fucking marriage you have, that minutes after you thought you were about to be killed you feel safer than you have with him so far.

Your orgasm rips through you faster than you’ve ever managed with him inside of you, has you crying out as you shut your eyes and throw your head back, stomach and thighs clenching and every nerve on fire.  For a moment everything’s red and everything’s hot and you feel like you’ve just incinerated yourself, and then you come to, mouth open and hips still jerking in short thrusts on top of him and all you can see are Feyd’s pupils blown wide as he stares up at you.

There’s a moment you realize that you could deprive him of an orgasm.  One of the first nights you were together, the moment it seemed like you were about to come, he’d smugly withheld it from you.  Now that you’ve gotten yours, you could stop, climb off of him, and tell him he can finish himself off.  Right now he seems dazed, mouth open, his grip on your throat more of a loose hold.  For a moment you picture the lost look on his face if you do it.

That moment breezes by, and you start rocking onto him again, panting and moaning as you scratch down his chest, your nails catching onto his nipples, making him buck his hips and moan, the movements jostling your insides.  He’s close–and somehow, you’re building again with your frayed nerves, but you’re going to need his help to bring you over with him.

Well, maybe not need.   But you’re going to tell him anyway.

It takes you a few tries, mouth open, trying to form the words, before you say, “Touch me,” and you’re pretty proud of how it comes across as an instruction rather than a plea.

In turn it takes him a moment to register your orders before sliding his hand to your neck down to one of your breasts, squeezing and fondling one and then the other, and finally, mercifully sliding his other hand from your hip and resting it high up on your thigh, rubbing his thumb along your apex.

“That’s it,” you manage, closing your eyes, gritting your teeth at how frustratingly close you are while still so sensitive, so determined to make it over the edge before he does.  He’s panting underneath you, his heart pounding, sweat dampening his chest and his thigh and he shifts his legs and–oh.  Oh .  That’s it.  You don’t register your own moans and cries as you shut your eyes against it, feeling him coming inside of you, hearing a guttural moan ripped out of his chest as he arches his hips up into you and for a moment you feel like everything’s shattering, everything bursting into air.  After a moment you still your hips, taking in shuddering breaths, waiting to come back to yourself.

You open your eyes again and look down at Feyd, who looks at you like he’s never looked at you before and you realize this is what it’s like for someone to be in awe of you.  It’s a powerful feeling, especially from him.

You kept this away from me for nearly a month? you want to ask.  You let out a laugh.  You’re soaring.  You’re delirious.  You want to go again even as you tremble.

Feyd ends up talking first.  “Now what, pet?” he says, running his hands over your shaking thighs.  “Anything you want.”

You catch your breath.  He’s still under you, still subdued and tamed–for now.  You lean forward, bracing your forearms on either side of him, enjoying the shift of the angle of him inside of you even when softened.  He gives a slight hiss as you roll your hips once for good measure.

“I want to keep you inside of me until you get hard again, and then I want to ride you again until I can’t anymore,” you tell him.

You haven’t seen him drunk but you can imagine that it looks a little like this, the way his head rolls to the side and he grins, still looking dazed and bedazzled.  You can hardly blame him; you feel almost out of your own body as well.

I have you.  I have you.  I have you.

[decafgrace]

Let’s not shame movie fans.

A rant

I’ve been seeing lots of new fans of Dune watching the movies for the first time, and talking about the twists or honestly just how much they enjoyed the movie, or like “wow I didn’t expect xyz to happen!”. And then the comment section will be like “*sigh* how did you not see that coming, the book’s been out since 1965. You must be stupid, pick up a book you idiot” and things similar to that. (Tbh I’ve seen this more on twt and tik tok than here but I’m too scared to rant about it there rn so).

As someone who read the books BEFORE both movies were out, how about instead of *shaming* people who haven’t read the books yet, we *encourage* people to read them? I understand taking book fans “more seriously” and joking about movie fans (that isn’t unique to the Dune fandom at all and has been happening for years) but some of these comments are actually so mean about it. How about instead of commenting “book’s been out since 1965” (especially to young people. Like I read it back in 2018 when I was a teen, sorry I wasn’t a fan pre-conception when the book was first released 🤪) we say “If you like the movie, the book is ever better! You should read it!”.

I know that Dune has always been revered in the sci fi world. I think us sci-fi fans forget though that Dune pre-new movies was still a relatively niche thing in terms of mainstream recognition (especially in comparison to Star Wars or Star Trek and things like that). I’m also sure that there are movies that YOU claim to like that you haven’t read the books for until the movies too (if you read the book at all). Howl’s Moving Castle, Goodfellas, Jaws, Schindler’s List, etc are all movies that were actually based on books that I’m sure people claim to be fans of despite not being an “og fan of the books” or even having read the source material ever.

Again, it’s fine to pressure people to read the book like every fandom does! But we don’t have to be a jerk about it or shame people for “discovering Dune for the first time”. Let’s get more people reading Dune!

I have lots of other thoughts about the Dune fandom that I’ve been holding in for a looooong time that are bubbling up again because of the pt. 2 release but I’ll save that for another time -

Rant over.

TLDR;

New fans: READ DUNE

Old fans: Let’s actually encourage reading :)

[unicoo]

Okay just hear me out

(You absolutely don’t have to agree with this, I’m just saying what I THINK)

I’m going to post the link to @austinslounge post with the timeline because I used that for help

My theory (based simply on my intuition of people & what I’ve watched, I could be very very wrong about all of this, I’ll be the first to admit if I am 😭) starts in 2023….kinda. Just stay with me while I lay out the timeline.

Towards the end of the year they seemed fine, like they can still stand to be around each other and at least pretend to be in a “loving relationship”

End of 2023/beginning of 2024 Kaia starts attending more events alone around this time as well, she’s got movies and she’s getting invited places and it’s amazing for her. Everything seems great for Kaia, all the things she’s “worked so hard for” are in her reach.

It’s also notable that around this time Cindy DIDNT want Kaia to wait for Austin to settle down lol.

Then we get the infamous Dune 2 after party (sorry for the jumpscare), I think we can all agree that what Kaia did, didn’t please Austin. After that we get a month break from Kaustin and then those really bad gym pics came.

Honestly, compared to how they started the dune 2 after party, with kisses and hand holding…..this looks bad. She’s in front of him throwing the door open with no intention of opening it for him….that’s how it looks to me 🤷‍♀️.

When I read the situation I can see (humble opinion again) that the after party incident caused bad tension and by this point Kaia was kind of making her way to the top, so why keep “acting” “in love”? Why not get this break up on the roll?

I only think this because after those pictures Kaia has her palm royale premiere AND a Jimmy Fallon appearance! I mean that’s HUGE for her……except it isn’t. She goes to a few more solo events and the crickets keep chirpping. This whole time Kaia thought she bagged a W and she hadn’t. Her name was still connected to her mom, Austin, or nothing at all.

Then we got these 🙄 she needed press for herself because she had more events coming up that she KNEW Austin wouldn’t be attending, just like he didn’t go to award shows & take her, just like he didn’t watch the Golden Globes with her, even though she tried to make it seem like he did. Kaia is not stupid, she’s pretty smart, she knows she needs another BIGGER name next to hers to get attention, Austin’s is perfect. If fans believe she’s with Austin or he’s with her, they eat it up and give her attention.

She had the Met Gala (which Austin didn’t go to) & another premiere after those pictures. At both events she looks like a kicked puppy. And with the Met you can pinpoint exactly when she gets sad.

While getting ready she looks fine, eyes look normal, then she walks out of the hotel………..she isn’t as popular as she thought she’d be 🥴 I need it to also be noted that after this we see the start of what we now know to be significant weight loss. In my opinion this was her relapse into ED.

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At the end of May a fluff piece about Kaustin was written and not long after that, this comes out.

After this we get this 😂😂 if anybody has the link to the video please put it in the comments, but you can tell Austin was OVER IT. Like you can just tell.

After this Kaia goes on a Vacation that looks a lot like a breakup trip. She was calling Camilla her one true love and using Travis to pose all seductive, as if saying “look what you lost”.

Sometime after this is the first time Austin gets asked about Kaia in an interview and after that it happened a few more times, more than it had in the past years. And each time you could tell it caught Austin off guard and he was uncomfortable. Then we get the Bikeriders premiere with the separate arrivals and forced kiss that was posted WITHIN MINUTES. Austin was obviously taken aback and after that he’s seen on video dragging Kaia around like a child. Then they go their separate ways and sorta disappear, but Kaia still blesses us with her thirst traps and post-breakup feeling posts.

After this we got the play date that was just hilarious tbh. @destinymoore05 THIS is the smugness lol. The video of him completely ignoring her for his fans and her DESPERATELY trying to be a star LMAO. Then the way he stares down the camera in confused amusement as she tries to be sexy and capture his attention LOL. Don’t even get me started on the phone in almost every picture 😂🤚

After that was the Library Science event he went to, which correct me if I’m wrong, it was the only one. After that Kaia goes to Paris with mommy and no Austin in sight, even though so many shippers claimed he was there. Then we got the late night, still weird in my opinion, fan encounter.

Then there was the wedding Austin didn’t attend, followed by a pap walk and TWO birthday parties neither do them came to. Which is so weird for a “loving couple” lol. Event though Kaia wasn’t at Austin’s birthday celebration, they did a pap walk 3 days later.

I love this pic, Kaia in her element, sucks she has to keep dragging Austin through it. After this Kaia does the whole Disney birthday trip and no Austin, but Ayo & Presley’s girlfriend do go.

Kaia has 2 premieres after this, which have traction for the NIGHT. After that she’s irrelevant again lol. She third wheels a date with Cole & Camilla before she and Austin go out ONLY AS DAMAGE CONTROL after the Marcello stunt she pulled. She showed her ass and it needed to be fixed, I find it telling that Austin pulled the mask and hat back out too. Since this they haven’t been seen together again.

Interesting enough this article came out AFTER the Marcello incident and BEFORE this pap walk. Then we get sorta back to back articles, this one from Austin’s team, then another Cindy article that’s a whole 180 to what she started the year off saying.

Kaia has been to countless events by herself, from Times100 to Hollywood Next Gen. She’s going to after parties for movies directed by people she wanted to work with. She did the vogue cover, no Austin at the party despite being in the same city. Let’s not forget the Halloween party she attended, the same party Austin’s coworkers Matt Smith attended……We had the Austin stays in Mexico situation, followed by the weird thumb dude Kaia posted, and now we have the “I’ll sit on a lap, just not Santa’s” situation.

Saying all of that leads me here, so if you stuck along I appreciate it, I promise there’s payoff 😭

I THINK, the year started with them gearing up for a breakup. That’s why the Cindy article dropped and Kaia was everywhere solo for a while, pap walks included. They didn’t really need Austin anymore, Kaia “had a name” and a foot in the door. As the year went Kaia realized she didn’t have any of what she thought she did. She wasn’t important or popular and the Met Gala cemented it for her 💯. She went from clear eyes getting ready, to that brief upset on the bus, to red eyed on the red carpet, because the truth began to show itself. After that she and Austin are back “together” expect after the Dune after party I think Austin made it clear, I won’t take you to any more events. Pap walks are fine and I’ll even support you at yours, but you have to keep yourself & your paps away from mine. After that they stopped acting, no longer pretending to like each other, let alone love and stand one another. Kaia keeps trying and nothing, those pictures of them smoking were done on purpose and if I’m not mistaken an article followed not long after. She was already planting the seed that Austin was a bad egg, starting all the way back with Cindy’s first article. She goes to the Met Gala and all these events and realizes, she still needs Austin, but he’s not going. He’s over it and tired and just wanted to focus on his career in peace. My guess is Kaia tried convincing him to do more events together and he said no, because soon after that his team drops an article that bluntly states they have nothing in common, it even planted the seeds for a summer break up. Which is why we were all kind of shocked about the pap walks and premiere kiss. That break up was supposed to happen this summer, I firmly believe it, but Kaia & her family used their “power” to pressure Austin. The article even said they would if he didn’t take their daughter to the three year mark things could get ugly. So Austin settles in for the rest of the year. He’s done pretending, he won’t feed into it anymore, because just like Kaia’s been planning, he is too. He gets smug, staring at the camera, keeping contact minimum, really showing us with body language (and ig likes) that he does not like her. By then I think they were really finished which is why afterwards Kaia went on a whole post-breakup Instagram coping phase. The ONLY reason she was at the Bikeriders premiere is because Austin flirted shamelessly during the press tour, which he didn’t really do during Dune. It was definitely a statement on his end, especially if you pair it with his disinterest with Kaia in any sense when it came to the public. She forced a kiss to prove a point, but it backfire, as all her plans do. She keeps trying, wayy too hard, and Austin is eating it up. He’s happy she’s making her own trap, all he has to do is pull the cord and in all honesty Austin has the most control in this situation. (He may not be Uber rich, but his name hold weight within the movie world, if he was a bad guy he could ruin Kaia’s whole career tbh.)

Back to the theory, Kaia goes to Paris with her mom for the Olympics and some Omega bullshit. Shippers start rumors that keep Kaia’s trip relevant, Austin was NOT there, but they had to make the delusional claims that he was. After that is the wedding Austin doesn’t go to, but he does go to Canada for their vaca? That’s weird to me and no real couple would do this. He was only in Canada to talk over game plans and contracts between him and Kaia (my opinion!) What they didn’t account for was Kaia’s messy, disrespectful, slutty nights out. So damage control had to be done because Kaia can’t look bad when the breakup drops, it has to be Austin if she wants to keep come relevance. So they do a few more pap walks, they have to keep Kaia’s name trending as well as make it to that three year mark. They don’t spend their birthdays together, don’t even pretend, because by this point it’s strictly business. Austin’s going out with friends and doing things by himself for himself, by all accounts he’s free. Meanwhile Kaia keeps shoving her foot further and further in her mouth. And to make it even clearer that he’s DONE, his team drops an article about Austin outgrowing Kaia & the relationship, another very clear indication that he’s ready for this to be over. Then to combat his article, Cindy releases one, she has to tell the people her daughter isn’t boring, she’s trying to keep herself busy & interesting! And let’s not forget the Gerber article where they basically shit on Austin AND beg him to love Kaia lol. I think that came from Austin’s team. Why would the Gerber camp release an article that made them look crazy? They wouldn’t, but Austin would & could to help protect his image against these powerful leeches.

Going back to the Deuxmoi situation, I do actually think Austin said something about Kaia, but only that yeah they were still together. No breakup article is out so they have to keep the appearance up, but also, it makes Kaia look bad when she does things like get on her knees for a guy then spend 20 minutes in the bathroom alone with him, or sit on some rando’s lap. People are literally turning on Kaia before our eyes, it isn’t many, but an avalanche always starts as a snowflake. Now, it’s pretty clear they aren’t together. The last few things we’ve seen from Kaia have involved different guys and Austin is MIA. Austin can’t afford another post Vanessa break up situation. He caught so much hate and still does because of rumors and misconstrued situations. He knows that Kaia & her family can milk him for a while after the breakup and by letting Kaia bury herself it leaves Austin with solid ground to stand on after this is all done. Kaia tends to act a certain way when things don’t go her way, and right now the pattern is patterning.

Austin is smart and I’d like to hope his team has his best interest at heart. I hope they’re letting all the snow fall before letting out the yell to release the avalanche.

The Gerbers have been playing Checkers, and whole time Austin might’ve been playing Chess.

And again, I could be very very very super wrong….😭

[novasintheroom]

008. Kindness

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1.1k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description - You continue to send Vash letters.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

Part 1 ---- Part 2 ---- Part 3 (you are here!) ---- Part 4 ---- Part 5

The next letter comes a week later on a Tuesday. The one after that, two weeks and two days. And the one after that, just four days later.

You’ve made a habit of writing at nearly every post office and leaving it to be picked up by Vash if he chooses. He tries to resist and leave the letters there, but loneliness and the want to know how you’re doing always wins. He’s returned to a town more than once just to get a letter.

This week’s letter comes from a little town called Bangs. The mailwoman hands him the letter from the top of her tomas, and he gives her the twenty-six C-cents for handling it.

The paper inside is pink this time and smells a bit like almond lotion. Your curving and slanted writing greets him:

                Birdie,

                I’ve managed to add three new towns this week to the roster. There’re only a few people in each who are willing to join in on the book exchange, but a win’s a win. HQ says I’m doing great, and they’ve already gotten a few applications from some teenagers in the towns to apply for college in the bigger cities.

                In fact, they’re moving me to a new route soon. One that’s a bit more challenging due to it being so far out and away from most other places. I’m getting my own tomas for it since the towns are so spread out. I’ve drawn the map they sent me on the back…in case you ever want to visit.

                I hope you’re doing well. I wish I could see you. I know you’re getting my letters. Write to me, please. Even if you don’t think we should travel together anymore, we can at least be friends, right?

Forever yours,

       ______

P.S. What do evil toma lay? Deviled eggs.

He’s surprised to find two blank pages nestled into the envelope. You really want him to write you? After abandoning and dodging you for nearly two months? But he shouldn’t be surprised. You’re always adjusting to his boundaries, always making sure he’s comfortable, even if you disagree. You’re too kind for your own good. The least he could do is tell you he’s okay.

So, he writes back.

                ______,

                I’m doing fine. I’ve got a few jobs lined up in the town I’m in right now. I was able to help nurse someone’s grandma back to health here too. I’m doing my best, just like you are.

He taps at the paper. What else should he say?

                I’m sorry I I’m glad to hear you’re doing well. You’re making a huge difference by helping build up people’s education. It will help so many people in the future.

                What do you know about the region you’re getting assigned to? I’ve only been around there a few times, and I’m sure it’s changed since then.

Best,

              Vash

P.S. Why can’t you ever trust stairs? They’re always up to something.

He’s left with an extra page to write with, but just stuffs it in his pocket. He doesn’t have much of worth to say right now; he still feels bad about…everything. He finds the postwoman again, who takes the new envelope and trots off on her tomas, and that’s that.

The next letter comes on the road as a courier passes by on her own walk back toward a town called Ferret’s Claw. She hails him, and hands it to him. “Already paid for,” her gravelly voice says, then continues trotting down the path of dunes.

Vash watches her leave before he opens and scans it over.

                Birdie,

                I’ve heard about you helping the Plants in the region. You’re not as sneaky as you used to be. That, or people are a lot more talkative about the talented, young, handsome man going around fixing Plants.

                Sure sounds like you.

                I’ve had to deal with some bandits on the road. Been chased a few times. Luckily they either aren’t great shots or don’t have their own toma to chase me on. They seem to be young kids with nothing better to do. I hope the more we spread education, that will lessen.

                Be careful around here, birdie.

                                                                                                Forever yours,

                                                                                                                ______

A blush rises to his cheeks when he reads over the “talented, young, handsome” line again. Leave it to you to still get his stomach fluttering with butterflies, even at a distance. Vash lets a breath go through his nose, then folds the letter, putting it in his “letters pocket,” so dubbed now after receiving them. He brings out the spare piece of paper from the previous letter and begins to write, using his knee as a ‘desk.’

                Mayfl______,

                Don’t worry about me; I know how to run handle bandits. You should be more careful, though. Do you still have that knife you got from the pawn shop?

                I won’t be staying in the region long. There’s a call coming from somewhere else, and I need to go to it.

He taps the paper, looking up and around as he thinks. Should he tell you where he’ll be? He’d like more letters…

                It’s coming from a town in the east, I know that much. Hopefully I can get there in time.

                Be safe.

                             Vash

P.S. There are three types of people in the world: those who can count, and those who can’t.

There. That ought to be enough.

And when he’s in the east, he isn’t as surprised to find a letter waiting for him at one of the towns.

Birdie,

I’ll keep writing to you if that’s alright. It gets lonely on the road, and I don’t doubt you feel it too. I love getting your letters.

HQ says I’ll stay in this region for at least a few months. Please let me know where to send my letters; I promise I won’t follow – I’ve got too many people relying on me and the books now. But I’d still love to hear from you. Tell me about what you’re up to, any adventures, even the shoot-outs you’re in. I’ll worry, but I’ll know you’re okay with each letter.

I hope you’re well. I hope you find happiness wherever you go.

                                                                                Forever yours,

______

P.S. What do you call a can opener that doesn’t work? A can’t opener.

And Vash does write back. Even if it’s so much less than what you write, he keeps you updated.

Vash wonders, when he’s writing his next letter, if this should stop. He’s leading you on; he hasn’t stopped contact like he promised he would. He looks down at the paper and crumples it in his hand, then opens and smooths it out again. Your kindness is like a drug he can’t quit. It’s selfish, but he wants to keep you, like the letters he keeps in his pocket. Is it so bad to want one friend in the world?

Maybe. Perhaps not.

And so he writes.