#the acting is incredible across the board

[stellasdrafts]

Wanted/Woman (Arthur Morgan)

Summary: two stranger outlaws find themselves captured by bounty hunters (Arthur Morgan x outlaw!Reader)

Word Count: 3.8k

Content: female reader, capture and bindings, violence and death, light gore, mentions of infertility, forced proximity, manipulative reader, enemies? (not quite but they dislike each other) to tension, crude language, male slander

Notes: surpriseeee new hyperfixation (dw will still be writing for leon too!! just added a new fictional man to the roster yum). i imagine mid-honor Arthur for this :) (also idk shit about guns so bear with me thanks). this is kind of an amateurish attempt of mine at criticizing misogyny bc i’m pissed off about today’s political climate. cliché on purpose.

The last thing you remember before going dark is the stinging pain of being pistol-whipped in the face by some bounty hunter’s grimy revolver.

As your consciousness comes to, you see flickering firelight from behind your eyelids. Even before you open them, you mentally curse at yourself for even letting yourself get in this situation in the first place. You had always prided yourself on your talent of finding secluded areas to camp out in. As well hidden as they could be when your picture was plastered on fences and announcement boards across three states with a bold, capitalized WANTED above it, anyway. You suppose you had gotten comfortable – sloppy. You slipped up and somehow those bastards found the shitty abandoned house you were using as a hideout, ambushing you while you were stubbornly focused on patching up a hole in one of your boots.

It takes you a moment to gather your surroundings in the haze of post-unconsciousness. The tent you’re being held in is hot, despite it being dark outside. The air is thick – stuffy and incredibly unpleasant. The smell of animal carcass lingers on the canvas as if it had recently been used to hold some hunt. You hear the muffled sound of men discussing by the campfire roaring outside – something rather serious, you assume by the tone of their voices. It doesn’t sound like too many of them, only two by the clean back-and-forth flow of their conversation. Somehow, the most obvious detail of your capture is the one you register last – the burn of rope at your wrists and feet, and the warmth of another body at your back. You’re bound to someone.

Your heart rate picks up at the sudden realization and you tug, beads of blood drawing at your skin. You’d typically consider yourself a rational person, but with the fog of having just woken up, your brain jumps to the worst conclusions. There’s no way of knowing if the person behind you has been shot dead already, they’re completely still… That is until he speaks.

“Would you stop that? Rubbin’ your wrists raw won’t help either of us.”

Take a breath. You’re better than this. The bounty hunters outside are men, and now you know the person behind you is one as well. Maybe some good old feminine charm could be your ticket out of here. It wouldn’t be the first time your conniving passive woman act got you out of scrapes. They might kill the man first, anyway.

You look around, making sure to make him feel you squirm. Your breath quickens and you summon a more proper accent. You won’t go down. Not like this. “W-What the hell is happening?”

The man’s body shakes lightly behind you – the sonofabitch is chuckling. “Oh, quit playin’ dumb. I saw you when they brought you in. You got posters from here to Colter.”

You make sure to yank at your ropes the way a panicked woman would. He hisses at the pain and you’re glad you don’t have to hide your prideful grin. “No, I don’t know what’s going on! There must be some mistake!”

The hunters haven’t even checked in on the two of you yet, but by the timbre of their conversation outside when you awoke, they’ll get the gist of this one too, and you’ll be damned if this stuck-up man leads to your demise.

“There ain’t no mistake, woman.” Looks like there won’t be any fooling this guy. He must be in the business, you assume. “Tryin’ to play the damsel in distress won’t help you any, so quit your whinin’ and stop pulling at the damn ropes.

“I’m not!” You sniffle. “M’not who they think I am!”

You may as well feel his eyes roll. “Right. What’s your name then?” You give him your usual decoy as he attempts to sit up straighter. “And what’s got an innocent thing like you in this kind of trouble?”

“I don’t know!” you cry. “I was mending some clothes when they burst in my house and knocked me out!” you recite with ease. It wasn’t a total lie, after all.

The man listened to your sob story, wanting to get a read on you, you presume. “Is that right? You were… just sewin’ when they magically came out of the woodworks and took ya?”

The goddamn attitude on this man… “Yes!” You start crying again. “Oh god, this can’t be real!”

You hear your companion let out a heavy sigh. “Alright, cut the dramatics, darlin’,” he grumbles. Twigs snap outside and both your heads whip in the direction of the two hunters’ shadows near the flaps. He lowers his voice. “I know you’re puttin’ on that act and it’s getting’ real old. It’d only work on someone dumb as rocks so-” he’s interrupted as the two bounty hunters waltz in, surely having heard you wailing seconds prior.

You flinch hard and make yourself fall to the side. You’re a pathetic, blubbering mess – the complete opposite of what they’ve surely heard of the outlaw they were chasing. You will make them doubt themselves. Manipulation is your specialty, and men are so simple minded~

“Please! Please-”

The captors look a bit startled by your distress. One of them, the bulky one, kneels down at your side. Men just can’t help themselves, can they? They just have to save the pretty tormented girl. He tries to soothe you by placing a grubby hand on your knee. “Calm down, sweet thing.”

You try to hide your recoil. It’s not like you can scoot backward anyway, since you’re tied to the pessimistic wanted man. “P-Please, will you just tell me what’s going on?” You blink with tear-soaked lashes, being a convincing little housewife.

The hunters share a look, as if silently trying to contemplate the legitimacy of your cries. The bulky one returns his attention to you, seemingly placated. “We ain’t gonna hurtcha unless you give us a reason to, sweetheart. We’re just here to bring you down to the sheriff’s office.”

You hear the other wanted man scoff behind you. Surely, they weren’t actually falling for this?

The taller one hanging back grins cockily. “Gonna get us that nice little bounty on your head,” he adds.

It’s your turn to bite back a scoff. Little? There’s nothing little about a hard-worked two-thousand dollars on your head alone. You’d even been dubbed Bullseye.

For your own sake, your eyes go wide as saucers, as if you’re truly repulsed by the idea of having committed any crimes. “Bounty?! That’s impossible. I’ve never sinned in my life. Please, there must be a mistake-”

The tall one chuckles and you feel flames of anger licking at your insides. “Oh, there ain’t no mistake. You must’ve done some reeeeal bad things. Bounties like that ain’t given out for no reason.”

The bulky man nods to corroborate his friend’s words, but judging by its slowness, he seems a bit more apprehensive. “…You seem too soft to have a bounty of a couple grand on your head.”

Your new wanted companion whistles from behind you, impressed.

“Goddammit, Wilson!” curses the tall one.

There’s the crack you need. You keep pushing, sensing the foundation crumbling between the two. You shake your head feverishly. “I don’t know who you think I am! I’ve told you my name. I’m a housewife. M-My husband’s name is Elijah. Really, I barely ever go out. I don’t know what’s going on here.”

The two idiots glance at each other again, brows raised. Wilson tilts his head. “Roberts, maybe we fucked up. I mean, look at’er! The law has been after the girl for years. The… The posters are old. They’ve been up so long that they’re kinda faded… Maybe her and Bullseye really do just look alike.”

The tall one – Roberts – doesn’t answer right away. You’d venture to guess he’s more trigger-happy than his partner. “I didn’t see no husband inside the house.”

“He’s off on business in the next county at the moment.”

Again, they seem to communicate without speaking aloud. Wilson stands with a groan and nods in my direction with urgent eyes, evidently commanding Roberts. The latter steps forward with a sigh, his arms crossed. “Fine. I’ll bite. If that’s the truth, miss, how long you been married?”

You smile weakly, pretending to recall a memory. “Since my Elijah and I were nineteen.”

“All this time and no children?”

You drop your shoulders and strategically let your smile fade. You’ve been waiting a while to use this one. “No, sir, I been having… issues,” you admit shamefully. And you’re so proud of yourself that you hope even the non-believer tied to you is starting to wonder if he accused you of being a liar a little too quickly.

Both the hunters are taken aback at that. A woman shouldn’t be talking about private matters to strangers. The dumb bulky one breaks the silence first. “I-I’m sorry about that, ma’am…” he mumbles awkwardly.

You nod solemnly and wipe a skillful tear from your cheek with your shoulder. “I begged him not to go- begged him! A-And now I’m tied up-” You gasp and try to put some distance between yourself and the man you’re tied to, but it only yanks at both your binds. “Does that mean I’m tied to a killer?! Oh God!” you cry and squirm violently.

Wilson raises his hands the same way one would calm a horse. “Ma’am, calm down-” In an attempt to calm you down, he grabs a knife from his belt and cuts your wrists’ bindings while Roberts rushes to make sure the other outlaw doesn’t try to pull some stunt. Unlike yourself, he leaves him fully bound and secures him to one of the tent’s support posts.

Now that you aren’t back-to-back with him, you catch a glimpse of his face for the first time. Oh shit. You recognize him immediately – it’s impossible not to, not in your line of work. That’s Arthur Morgan, one of Van Der Linde’s men. One of his most feared men, actually. No doubt he has a pretty bounty on his head as well.

You don’t have time to dwell in your thoughts because that half-witted hunter speaks again. “I won’t untie your ankles, though. Can’t have you runnin’ off on us until we’re sure you ain’t it,” he says with a chuckle.

You want to punch that condescending little smirk right off his face… But you can do even better.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of running.”

“Well, that’s good ‘cau-”

He trips over his words when you snag the knife from his naively relaxed grip and jam it into his neck with all your might. As he topples over, you swiftly grab the revolver from his holster and shoot Roberts a couple of times in the chest before he can even react.

“Goddamn fools,” you mutter as you undo the rope around your ankles, seemingly unfazed by a tied-up Arthur Morgan some feet away from you.

Even writhing on the ground, Wilson disturbs your newfound peace, gargling on his own blood. You roll your eyes and put a bullet between his own. Standing, you stretch your limbs, rubbing where the rough rope had dug into your skin. You retract the bloody knife from the bounty hunter’s neck, giving it a twirl. It was a pretty knife, engraved with some intricate swirls. You earned it.

You finally look up at Arthur. “You were right, I s’pose.”

“Seems that way,” he replies, carefully watching every movement of yours. You’d seen that look in men before. He was trying to gauge if he was going to be the next recipient of your wrath.

You grin and lean back against some crates, enjoying seeing such an infamous man be so unsure. “Now, what to do with you?” you ask rhetorically.

You watch as his eyes go from the dead man at his feet to your calm figure. Evidently, you had managed to impress him. Pride swells in your chest. He nods toward his bound ankles. “Well, are you going to get these off? That would be greatly appreciated,” he inquires dryly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You hum, giving the knife a couple more twirls. “I bet, Van Der Linde.”

The outlaw raises a brow, otherwise utterly composed. “So you know who I am… Or at least who I run with.”

“Mhm.” You trace the edge of the bloody blade with your index. “You’re no small feat, Arthur Morgan.” You push off the crates and nod at the corpses on the dirt. “They would’ve lucked out.”

“I’d say the same for you,” he replies, his gaze unrelenting.

The two morons had spoken your alias, but it’s the fact that Morgan recognized it that sticks with you. A sick sense of satisfaction bubbles within you at the knowledge that your name has been spread to one of the country’s most notorious gangs.

“Well ain’t you sweet,” you quip sarcastically.

Arthur looks down at Roberts, mere inches away from him. “Your aim on him could’ve been a bit better, though. Too far right.”

You? Aiming anything other than perfect? You scoff, your eyes narrowing as you search through a sack on the crates for your confiscated guns. “I don’t have to let you free.”

“And I don’t have to be pleasant,” he retorts gruffly, and for a second, you’re reminded of who you’re talking to. The adrenaline from your victorious escape begins to simmer down and you realize that perhaps you shouldn’t be speaking to an accomplished killer this way.

…But you’re one yourself.

You look over your shoulder with a smile. “You’re tied up, hun.”

The man scowls. “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Amusing, this one. But perhaps you aren’t exactly in the position to have Dutch Van Der Linde and his boys on your tail for taking out their best man. You sling the bag full of your belongings over your shoulder and crouch before him, pushing Roberts out of the way with one foot. “I can’t see why we can’t be amicable, can you?”

One of his brows quirks up. “Depends on your definition of amicable, miss,” he dryly speaks your family name.

“Charming manners.” You tilt your head. “I reckon we ain’t that different, you and I. Two of the most notorious criminals. Everyone knows our names. We were, well-” you gesture to his bound current state. “-both tied up. On the same team, if you will. We live the same lifestyle. I don’t see the point in goin’ off and tattlin’ on each other.”

Arthur lets out a quiet huff. “So you’re suggestin’… What, an alliance?”

“I’m suggestin’ silence. You go off without worryin’ about me sending the law after you, and I do the same.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?” He’s skeptical, and you can’t quite blame him after he’s just witnessed how you swindled those men.

“It’s a two-way street, Mr. Morgan. I’m the same as you, it’d be hypocritical to turn you in. Plus, I don’t quite care to alert the law of my presence by going in to report you.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Fine. But I’m not forgettin’ this.”

But his mention of an alliance lingers in your head. You hold up a finger. “On second thought, I’ve got a better idea. More fool-proof terms, if you’re hesitant to trust me.”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not enjoying being at your mercy. “And what would those be?”

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “It’d be idiotic for members of the same gang to snitch on each other, wouldn’t it?”

A look of realization washes over his face. “It would,” his voice drops lower, not liking where this is headed.

“Then, I’ll be joining the Van Der Lindes. I’m tired of sleepin’’ with a pistol in my hand.”

His expression shifts, seemingly amused by your conviction. “Oh, are you?” he retorts with a chuckle. “What makes you think they’d even let you in?”

You grin. “You knew exactly who I was when you heard those twits call me Bullseye, that’s what.” You stand up straight. “And you’re going to give me a shining recommendation.”

“Am I, now?”

“Mhm… Or I could throw you on my horse out there and we could have ourselves a nice little ride to some sheriff’s office. I figure Saint-Denis would have the most intense security. You don’t think they’d recognize me if I just rode by and dropped you on the doorstep, do you?” You jeer as you rummage through the tent, looking for anything of value to take.

Despite your threats, a small smirk creeps onto Arthur’s face. He takes a moment to study you, weighing his options.

“Confident, ain’t ya?”

“With reason.”

A beat. You just stare at each other.

“Can you untie me already? We’ve got a lot of ground to cover to get back to camp.”

[llycaons]

yeah im just going to say it. the great (2020) is legit one of the best television shows I have seen in my life and I’m really glad I picked it back up. if you like ahistorical comedy-dramas in a period setting, complex characters/relationships, and don’t mind gore and sudden, graphic violence, I’d recommend it

[seungfl0wer]

*𝘼𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜*

Pairing: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Daddy!Minho, Degrading, (Slut and whore used), Orgasm denial, Chocking, Spanking, Oral(M), FaceFucking, Creampie, Unprotected sex, Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings

A/N: I’ve had this idea for awhile- kinda made it a little uhm- mean dom Minho lol so hope you enjoy.

-🖤

Minho had been gone for the day. Leaving for work early in the morning. Prying himself from you to get out the door. He had been gone for so long, and you were becoming incredibly needy. You texted him around 4 asking him if he was gonna be home soon. He’d texted back ‘not for a few more hours kitten’

As you waited you plopped yourself down on the couch sighing loudly. Not even the cats were coming to comfort you. You huffed whining loudly to no avail of course. You felt like you were going insane. Board and needy out of your mind you made your way to your room. Rummaging through the closet to find one of your toys to play with. Minho wouldn’t be home for at least a couple hours, so what he wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt him right?

You rid yourself of your bottom lazily pressing the toy to your sensitive clit. Finally getting some relief, the first touch made you moan loudly. Body already arching from the bed. You had your whole body spread now getting yourself off to the thought of your boyfriend. Wanting nothing more than to have him come home.

Something you didn’t realize though was the Minho was watching. You had forgotten all about the cameras he had installed to watch the cats while he was gone. He would check them occasionally to check up on you. What he saw made an evil little grin come across his face. He watched as you toyed with your puffy clit, moaning loudly. Calling out his name as you grabbed ahold of the sheets. Oh was he gonna punish you, because you knew better. ‘Naughty thing’ he thought to himself. He made up some excuse to leave early, not telling you he was on his way to catch you in the act.

Unbeknownst to you as tears pricked at your eyes Minho had gotten home. You moaned out loudly finally cumming as your legs shook. In your daze you didn’t hear Minho opening the door. He stood there with that evil grin watching you “What do we have here?” He said from the door way.

Your body jumped at his words. “Minho I’m” you started to say before he cut you off.

“Who?” He said shooting you a glare.

“D-daddy I’m sorry” you said eyes avoiding his gaze.

“You’re sorry? You know better kitten.”

“I- I just missed you and I-“ you stuttered out.

“No excuses, you know you’re not supposed to touch yourself and especially not supposed to be playing with toys without me hmm?” He said in a stern voice.

“M’sorry” you said softly.

He moved to sit on the end of the bed patting his lap. You knew what he wanted but didn’t move. “M’sorry daddy please” you said trying to give him puppy eyes. Only for him to start counting. 1. 2. He started, you got up slowly slinking your way to him with a frown. You assumed the position laying your body over his lap. “Count”. He said before smacking your ass. “One” you whimpered out.

“Louder” he growled with another smack.

“Two” you said louder. He smacked your ass a few more times as you counted each becoming a bit harder as he rubbed it softly afterwards. The last smack was the hardest, making your body shoot up. “That one hurt” you whined looking back at him.

“It hurt? Is that why this bratty little cunt is dripping?” He growled pushing your body back down onto his lap. His hand roughly came down pushing his fingers into you with no warning. “This dirty little cunt is soaked? You sure it hurt that badly?” He said with a grin.

He pushed his fingers in and out of you his thumb coming up to press against your clit. “Daddy!” You cried out, your head feeling dizzy from his fingers working their magic. As you felt another high coming he could feel your body clenching around him making him chuckle. He removed his hands from you and before you could even whine he was man handling you in the bed. He pushed your body down, back against the bed. Your head was at the edge of the bed eyes glossed over as you looked up at him.

“Open that filthy mouth” he demanded as he lazily stroked his cock. You don’t remember when he took his pants off but they were gone. Thrown across the room somewhere with your own clothes. You looked up at him not really hearing what he had said. His hand found your face gripping it as he repeated himself “open. That filthy mouth don’t make me say it again.” He growled. And you did. Opening your mouth as wide as you could before Minho pushed in. His cock quickly filling your mouth.

He used your mouth roughly, fucking into it as his hands gripped at your hair. “That’s it- fuck take it- little brat couldn’t even wait for me to get home hmm? Such a little whore.” He groaned. His cock hit the back of your throat his head falling back at the feeling. Your hand moved on its own moving slowly down to your soaking cunt. His eyes shot to your hand smacking it away quickly. “You don’t learn do you?” He said with a low chuckle.

He leaned himself down as he fucked into your mouth. Hand coming down with a loud smack to your cunt. You jumped at the feeling head moving up taking more of him back your throat. “Fuck-“ he moaned out.

He quickly pulled out of your mouth maneuvering your body how he wanted it. He pushed your body down, stomach now laying flat on the bed before you felt him behind you. His cock head poking at your entrance. “Color” he said as he rubbed the head up and down.

“G-green” you mumbled out.

That’s all he needed to hear before he was pushing into you. His hands gripped at your hips as he fucked into you mercilessly. His cock head kissing your cervix so nicely. “I bet this is what you wanted huh? For me to catch you just so I’d punish you? Is that what you wanted kitten? Wanted me to treat you like the little slut you are?” He said.

Your brain was fuzzy however you knew you needed to answer “n-no- I- ah I just missed you” you cried.

“Missed me? So since you missed me you thought you could get yourself off without me hm? You know that I’m the only one allowed to touch the pretty little cunt. I’m the only one that is allowed to make it cum” he said.

“M’sorry” you cried louder.

His hand came down hard on your already raw ass “you knew you weren’t supposed to and still did. Right?” He said almost coldly.

“Y-yes” you answered.

“So do you think you deserve to cum?” He asked.

“Daddy-“ you said softly.

Another smack coming down on your ass “answer me”

“Please- I won’t do it again- just- I wanna cum with you please please” you repeated.

“Do you think I should let you?” He said again. “You did something knowing you shouldn’t so why should I let you?” He spat.

“M’sorry m’so sorry!” You cried feeling tears pricking at your eyes.

His hand came down around your throat, choking you slightly. “You’re gonna take everything I give you. No cumming. Got it.” He said against your ear. You only nodded knowing he wasn’t gonna let up. His body was now pressed firmly against yours as he rutted deep into you. “Let this be a lesson next time you decide to do something you know you’re not supposed to.” He growled against your skin.

He pushed once more deep into you before cumming, painting your walls white. His arms came around you pulling you to him. He left soft kisses to your skin as he came down from his high. “M’sorry” you whispered out.

“It’s ok kitten” he coo’d.

“Do you hate me” you said softly. He knew sometimes with punishments you felt guilty for whatever you did. He knew you’d need more reassurance.

“Kitten, I don’t hate you. You just gotta listen ok? I love you so very much” he said as he cupped your face to look at him. He kissed your lips softly holding you as close as he possibly could.

“I’m really sorry” you said again.

“Sssh it’s ok love, don’t apologize anymore. Everything done, so how about we go shower and I’ll cook us something hm?” He said with a sweet smile.

You shook your head yes but you held onto him tightly “can we cuddle a little more first? I really missed you today” you said looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“Of course kitten. I love you.” He said kissing your cheek softly.

“I love you to daddy” you said back nuzzling into him.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143

[markantonys]

i've got to put out an attempt to spread the good word of wheel of time to some of my new rings of power followers!

are you hankering for a new fantasy show to fill the void of ROP? look no further than wheel of time! it's also on amazon prime and is something of a sister-show to ROP. there are 2 seasons out currently, and season 3 is in post-production and slated to release sometime in 2025.

here's what WOT is about:

in a world that has reincarnation, rosamund pike's character who has been described as lesbian gandalf learns that an apocalyptic figure called "the dragon" who broke the world 3000 years ago has been reborn as a new person. accompanied by her platonic work-husband to whom she's psychically bonded, she narrows her search down to 5 potential candidates, a group of 20-somethings from the same little village. the group embarks on a quest to figure out which one of them is the dragon reborn, but even the ones who are not the dragon have nevertheless been chosen out by fate to have their own remarkable powers and key roles in deciding the fate of the world.

here's what makes WOT similar to ROP:

multiple-storyline ensemble show with a variety of personalities among the main characters, so you'll be sure to find Your Blorbo in somebody (and there's a pretty big variety among the fandom of who everyone's faves are, which goes to show how good ALL the characters are!)

epic fantasy that earnestly and wholeheartedly embraces its genre and the inherent whimsy and fantasticalness therein, without acting like it's embarrassed about having fantasy elements or like it considers itself too good and too prestige for the genre

it has some truly dark and harrowing stuff, but it never feels like it's gratuitous/just for shock value and never descends into cynical grimdark territory. it centers on the importance of hope and togetherness to fight against evil (tolkien was a primary inspiration for the WOT books' author robert jordan, so some of the vibes and themes are similar)

incredibly in-depth worldbuilding and world history

gorgeous costumes, sets, scenery, soundtrack, and production value. i could wax poetic about the soundtrack all day but will restrain myself and just say that it's a similar approach as ROP of specific character themes rearranged ad infinitum to suit the tone of different scenes and that it has a very unique soundscape that stands out from traditional orchestral fantasy. the costumes, especially in the second season, are some of the most unique and distinctive i've ever seen in a fantasy show, using lots of sharp/modern silhouettes to evoke a different feel from your standard medieval-inspired fantasy costumes. and vibrant colors!!!

absolutely Perfect casting across the board, with every actor from the most seasoned veterans to the newest-comers delivering wonderful performances, embodying their characters perfectly, and clearly having the time of their life making this show.

major character recast between s1 and s2 haha but like with adar, both mat actors are wonderful and it's impossible to wish one was the other while watching their respective performances.

Wholesome Boy Besties, and overall a lack of toxic masculinity and a total comfort with letting men be tender and kind and emotional (in fact, i'd say WOT does even better at this than ROP)

mesmerizing villains who run the gamut from tragic to Sexy Fun Evil to straight-up bonechilling (oftentimes multiple categories all rolled into the same villain). what if sauron was a sexy sexy lady whose top hobbies were serving cunt and gaslighting her boytoy? watch wheel of time to find out.

on that note, what would you get if you took the toxic hero/villain/villain polyeroticism of galadriel/sauron/adar, dialed it up to 11, and made it borderline canon that they used to be in a throuple that ended badly? one of the major dynamics of WOT s2, that's what.

a slower, establishing first season followed by a bombastic second season that raises the stakes, lets the villains out to play big time, and generally knocks it out of the park. so if you're on the fence while watching s1, keep going to get to the glowup!

and here's what makes WOT better than ROP:

while they both improve in their second season, imo the first season of WOT is quite a bit better than the first season of ROP (anecdotal evidence: i started both shows as a complete show-only with no prior familiarity with the source material (bar having watched the LOTR movies), and WOT had me hooked by the end of 1x01 whereas ROP i watched 2 episodes and abandoned it for 2 years before coming back for another try and successfully getting hooked)

i'd say the main reason for this is that the story of WOT s1 is fairly simple and small scale and laser-focused on just our 7 main characters who all share a single storyline together (breaking up into 3 sub-storylines for the middle portion of the season, then coming back together again), and it holds off on expanding the scale of the world & story until s2. this was much more effective at getting a newcomer like me assimilated in the world, hooked on the story, and invested in the characters than ROP starting out with a massive sprawling cast and story right off the bat and kind of overwhelming me with too much going on. WOT s1 was also very clear in establishing Here Are The Stakes And Here's Why You Should Care immediately in the pilot episode, whereas i struggled for a while with seeing what the Point of ROP was or why i should care about these characters (because there are too many of them and not enough time spent on any).

WOT is better at character depth and development, in large part because its main cast is about half the size of ROP's so there's just a lot more breathing room. like with ROP, some characters/storylines are naturally more important than others in a given season and thus everyone's prominence ebbs and flows, but unlike ROP, the characters who are in their "off-season" still get proper season-long arcs and never feel like they're getting neglected. no primary WOT character has ever been wholly absent for more than 1 episode per season (except for mat absent from 2 eps in s1 for recasting-related reasons).

following off of that, i'd say WOT is better at handling multiple storylines, because of the above point of fewer characters and also the earlier point that all the characters start together, then separate. this ensures that all the different storylines feel connected to each other, unlike ROP where there are some groups of characters that have never even met anyone else. the Found Family and Power Of Friendship themes are extremely strong in WOT, and the bonds between the core characters are unbreakable! and this makes all the storylines feel connected and cohesive even when they're taking place across the continent.

another similar point: WOT strikes a better balance between epic scale and narrative intimacy. i can't describe this any better or think of specific examples, it's just a Vibe i feel that ROP sometimes gets lost in its own scale whereas WOT always keeps us very firmly anchored in the characters and the personal stakes no matter how vast the world or conflict becomes. i might exemplify this by saying that if you enjoyed the sauron-celebrimbor scenes in s2, you'll love WOT because it is a huge proponent of "2 characters in a room talking to each other" scenes that further the larger plot while also keeping things intimate and personal and fleshing out the characters.

oh also, focal episodes! every season, WOT does 1 or 2 episodes that focus in deeply on one particular main character (different one every time) at a key point in their journey and deliver some amazing in-depth characterwork (while still furthering the story and allotting time to the other characters & storylines too). characters truly are one of the strongest aspects of WOT, both books and show, and i love that the show takes the time to give us episodes like this. it is so so good at balancing character & plot, and understanding that we won't care about the plot unless we care about the characters.

there is a HUGE cast of female characters, and a very varied cast too. the main cast is 50/50 men and women, and the supporting cast is at least 50/50 too if not majority women. in both the source material and the adaptation, women are integral to the story and so many of them are huge players that drive the narrative, rather than feeling like afterthoughts the 2020s adaptation is fruitlessly trying to cram into source material that was not designed for them as is often the case with ROP imo.

branching off of that: one of the major institutions in WOTworld is an all-woman wizard faction, complete with a lady wizard pope. this gives us things like battle scenes and political scheming that's mostly or exclusively between women. it's awesome!

edited to add: might be obvious from the point about there being a lot of women, but WOT also has lots of female friendships! and female mentorships and rivalries and romances too. just so many relationships between women, quite a contrast to nori and poppy struggling to singlehandedly make ROP pass the bechdel test.

canon queer characters and relationships. and queerness is not only present in WOTworld, it's normalized!

and finally, you'll have to wait til s2 to get her, but WOT is better because it has elayne trakand and thus is better than every show that does not have elayne trakand (can you tell who my blorbo is)

[melk-maid]

warnings: everyone is aged up 21+, afab/gn reader, major canon divergence, wet dreams, piv sex, dream sex, oral, alcohol consumption, mentions of an accident and injuries, mentioning of character death synopsis: you can't stop dreaming everynight about fucking an incredibly handsome and beautiful man, feeling an intense connection to him but you can't seem to place where you know him from.

note: this is a reupload! enjoy~♡ minors & ageless blogs dni - you will be blocked

The mind is a funny thing. It controls everything you do, dictates everything you say, feel, think. It’s a core part of everyone and works in such mysterious ways. 

It feels like you’d just opened your eyes from sleeping, yet already awake. There’s no drowsiness but you hardly remember anything that happened until now. Your mind is hazy but everything feels so light and airy.

When you begin to focus, the room bleeds with details that feel familiar. Colourful posters decorate the plain, cream walls, a cork board that’s home to photo booth cards and various hanging trinkets. 

Moving is difficult for some reason but you don’t fret. It feels like your body weighs a ton, as though your blood was made of concrete and trying to lift your torso to sit up was a strenuous task you couldn’t achieve. Normally this would be cause for concern, enough to send you into a state of panic, however your heart remained calm. 

There’s not much else in the room you can see from this position besides a desk and closet doors. You’ve come to realise you’re laid in bed and finally you can feel the sheets beneath you. So soft and comforting, they too feel oddly familiar but you can’t seem to pinpoint why.

When you focus again, you notice the thrum of dull pleasure that flows through your body. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, the feeling slowly amplifying the more you think about it. Then you realise there’s a weight on you, hands that hold you in place and a body between your legs. 

Oh.

It doesn’t matter who’s pleasuring you with their mouth but you’d love to interact with them, even if it is only a dream. It’s mildly embarrassing (only to you) that you’d noticed so late, though you try and acknowledge your realistic dream in hopes you’d gain a semblance of control — only your mind doesn’t cooperate and it’s still impossible to move. 

You want to thread your fingers through their hair, to tug on it and hear them moan into your clit, grind your hips into their face as they suck on your clit. They’re doing a good job so far and you can’t seem to express that. Opening your mouth was the easy part, getting something out was hard. It’s on the tip of your tongue; praise, gratitude, instructions, a moan. Much like your veins being full of concrete, it feels like your lungs are suffering the same fate. 

Eventually, the stranger makes an appearance leaning over you. A man with long, dark locks and gorgeous purple eyes hovers in your line of sight and your heart just about stops. The ends of his hair tickle your chest, cascading over his shoulder like a waterfall, eyes forming crescent moons as he smiles. He too feels familiar, but you can’t say you’ve ever seen him in your life. 

The weight of him pressed between your legs is just as delicious as his mouth, rocking his hips slowly into you to keep that spark of adrenaline going. You think he’s warm, even if it’s a dream. When he leans in to kiss you, it might be one of the greatest moments of your life. 

Warm, comforting, you can taste a tinge of yourself on his tongue. You move together naturally, you knew his every move like it was common knowledge. The act made your heart swell, a happiness you haven’t felt in so long. Nothing matters beyond this moment, this man is everything to you, even if you don’t know who he is. 

Finally you’re able to moan into his mouth as his tongue slides across yours, a noise that seems to encourage him. He shuffles between your legs, lips still pressed together as he guides himself into you. Another noise the man swallows is your pleasant gasp, sparks of lightning thumping through you at the feeling of utter fullness. 

You feel breathless. Airy, light, so completely and utterly—

Awake from the sound of your alarm. 

It takes a moment to realise what has happened, what is happening. Your thighs are sticky and the thrum of pleasure still lingers in your fingertips. A grown adult and you were having a wet dream, how shameful. 

Some people dream and others don’t — alongside the fact some people remember their dreams and for others they’re a distant and foggy memory. Typically you don’t dream and on the odd occasion you do, it’s the latter and you move on with your day. 

Except you couldn’t get that damn man out of your thoughts. He plagued you all morning as you showered away your sins, commuted to work and sent out a handful of boring emails that had been waiting for you overnight. You’d be falling asleep at your desk if it weren’t for him and the periodical pulse of your clit at the thought of pleasure. It feels like you hardly slept a wink last night — probably because your brain was too busy conjuring up these images to excite you while you slept. 

Your computer monitor buzzes as the Word document before you blinks, half empty and begging you to do your job and send it away for someone else to look at. If you thought you’d get away with it, you’d sneak away for a power nap in the bathroom. 

It nags at you that you know that man from somewhere — you must have seen him before. You read somewhere that your mind can’t create new faces, everyone you see in your dreams is someone you’ve seen before, even those you’ve passed in the street once. He feels familiar though, like you have a connection somehow. It’s as though you’ve seen that face hundreds of times before, felt his touch and tasted those kisses, committed it all to memory. Yet it feels hazy and untrue, you can’t seem to find the correct files in your mind to determine who he is. 

You texted your friend for a pick-me-up when no one was looking. All you need is someone to talk to, maybe indirectly air out your dream just to laugh about it. Nanami was quick to respond and agree, which you expected because it’s his favourite place to eat. 

“Didn’t sleep last night?” He comments before you could even take off your coat, causing you to huff and reluctantly smile. 

“Do I look that bad?” You ask as you hang your coat on the back of your chair, sitting down with a sigh and pulling the menu book towards yourself. 

Nanami smiles behind his coffee. “Would it be impolite of me to say yes?” 

Looking up at him from behind the menu and under your brow, you hum in disapproval but he takes it in stride. You are quick to decide what you want — your usual — and stop pretending you’re interested in anything else. 

“I was dreaming all night so I didn’t get much rest.” 

“Nightmares?” He raises an eyebrow when you shake your head. 

“No…” Your heart flutters at the images that flash through your mind, the memories of a story your mind created. “Just…Dreams.” 

Nanami is quick to drop the topic after your cautious answer, of which you are and aren’t grateful for. You thought it would be easier to slide the topic past him, to laugh at such a crude thing, but now that you’re here and his harsh yet soft features unintentionally bore into you, you’ve grown nervous and embarrassed. 

Instead, the conversation moves to your office jobs. He works elsewhere to you, though you met when you were both in school. You don’t remember much of anything from your teenage years but you do know you’ve been friends for a long time. It’s easy to talk to Nanami about your office woes, the emails and incapable workers and insane deadlines and so many emails. 

Frustratingly enough, the man of your dreams (literally) was still lingering in the back of your mind as you ate. 

“Do you dream, Nanami?”

While you expected him to raise an eyebrow at your question and respond with one of his own, he seems to be in deep thought contemplating an answer. In an attempt to ease the anxiety that sits in your chest, you avoid his eyeline and stuff yourself with food just a little too fast. 

“Not often.” He finally responds and it’s enough to satisfy you just a little. “When I do, I'm usually tired, just like you.” 

You never did mention any of the details about your dream, nor did the topic come up again for fear of being judged. 

You didn’t think you’d be back so soon. 

As though you’d blinked and awoke again, you are looking over at what seems to be a common room. It’s too big and casual to be a personal living room, the kotatsu adorned with too many mugs and glasses to house a couple of people. Everything feels familiar again but it sits on the tip of your tongue. The half drank glass of soda feels like it’s commonplace, along with the novelty cat mug on the other side. 

Soon you realise you’re leaning over a kitchen counter, purposely bent over with the pressure of someone else right behind you. The pleasure sets in again much like it had before; dull, slowly growing with intensity the more you think about it, pieces falling into place the more you focus. This time moans fall easily from your lips, a natural reaction to the feeling of ecstasy that flows through your veins. Dropping your head between your shoulders and leaning against the cool counter, you arch your back and move to meet the rhythm of the stranger behind you. 

“Fuck…” You moan – the sound was distorted, barely a whisper and you wonder for a moment if you actually vocalised it. 

The person behind you leans over, draping their larger body over yours. It’s an act that brings warmth into your chest, makes you feel safe and comforted, like a warm and sexy blanket that’s fucking you in short strokes. It feels real this time compared to the last. You feel like you’re actually being fucked into the kitchen counter like this, even if you don’t know where these ideas have come from. 

When lips lean in to find your neck, you instinctively move to give them more access, tightening around their cock when they suck on your sensitive skin. You hiss and moan, moving your hips back and leaning further into the counter below, relaxing your whole body and letting them take control. 

After they pull away and begin kissing your cheek, you take your opportunity to look at your mysterious sex partner – somehow shocked to see the man from your dreams again. 

You expected it to be him– no, you were hoping it would be him. All through the day you couldn’t stop thinking about him or the dream, the softness of his eyes and his sharp nose, the way his tongue glided over yours – he was sickeningly addictive, so this would be the best outcome, right?

Moving took a lot of energy but you managed it, pushing back with little resistance from your dream man. It still feels like your body weighs a ton when you’re moving on your own accord. You gasp and groan to yourself as you stand up, turning around in the small space you’re trapped in between the counter and the mystery man. 

He’s just as gorgeous as the first time you saw him, and the second time in your head, and the third and the fourth…

Your mouth hangs open to speak but this time nothing comes out. It feels like your voice box has been removed, furrowing your eyebrows in frustration. His touch is soft around your waist and the motion brings sparks of life with him, a comfort that feels natural, even when it shouldn’t. You still can’t place him in your life but you’re sure he’s been with you forever. 

The man before you chuckles, a sound that creates butterflies in your stomach, using gentle fingers to press your mouth shut with a soft click.

Those hands around your waist tighten for a moment, pulling you up from the floor with ease and sliding you onto the counter where you were once leaning. Strangely enough you don’t fight him. There’s a sense of safety in this man’s arms and it’s not solely because this is your dream. Something about him is eating away at you, the sense of familiarity, as though you’ve played out this scenario before; a memory rather than a something you’ve created. 

He slots himself between your open legs, feeling his hard cock brush against your thigh and tickle your stomach, you flex and giggle at the sensation. It’s natural when your arms wrap around his neck, hanging loosely over his shoulders with your lips so dangerously close. His hot breath fans your face and you gasp quietly as his cock slides into you again, a delicious and welcomed stretch, and he takes the invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

Despite the tiredness in your bones, you’re having a good time at the karaoke bar with friends. Your work clothes cling to you after the long day, mildly uncomfortable no matter how much you try to relax, attempting to physically and mentally let your hair down. Friday evening and your work week is over. 

You watch Gojo belt out lyrics of a song you don’t recognise, completely free and uncaring of anyone else in the room — especially Utahime scowling in the corner. It’s amusing that he’s the only truly sober person here and the most willing to utilise the microphone, putting on the performance of a lifetime for the others who are trying to get drunk and wind down or ignore him completely. 

The room is full of friends you’ve known for years, including Ijichi, Shoko and Nanami; you met everyone in high school as teenagers and have been a friend group since. All five of them spend almost everyday together working in the same office — you never got the memo apparently. Still, you were invited for a few rounds and some songs at the karaoke bar to wind down with them all, even if your workplace was a little further than around the block. 

Taking a sip of your drink, your mind finds itself wandering back to the man of your dreams. 

Every given moment he’s on your mind. If you relax for a moment without any distractions, he’s there again, smiling at you and creating a tight knot in your abdomen. Everyday this week you’ve seen him overnight in different scenarios, yet they’re always the same; you wake up, you realise you’re being pleasured sexually, you see him again and that same sense of comfort washes over you until you wake up. Having wet dreams is great when they’re not every single night. You’re tired and it feels like you haven’t slept at all. 

Through the flashing rainbow lights that dance along the room, you catch Nanami’s eye from the adjacent couch, smiling when he visibly sighs and finishes the rest of his drink then and there. 

He had almost a full glass. 

Without thinking about it, you move to sit next to him, a little drunk and a little too close as you brush your thigh against his and lean into him to talk over the music. “Can I tell you something?”

Nanami looks at you from the corner of his eye with scepticism — of which you responded to with a sleazy smile. You already laid down the groundwork of your problem to him earlier this week, so giving him an update shouldn’t be too jarring. 

“I’ve been having non-stop wet dreams all fucking week.” 

Sputtering on the empty drink, Nanami almost drops the glass in his hand and quickly sets it on the table to avoid disaster. He hadn’t anticipated that or for you to say it so bluntly, caught off guard by your confession, he composed himself but can’t seem to look at you. 

“Okay. Is that a good or a bad thing?” He asks cautiously, trying to remain polite but his eyes can’t seem to find yours as he speaks. 

You laugh and nudge his shoulder with yours, you were hoping the couple of beers would’ve loosened him up just like you. It wasn’t serious or a suggestion, just maybe looking for some support or guidance from another person who knew the brief history. 

“It’s good, I think.” You finish off your drink, watching as Nanami orders both of you another round on the tablet. “It’s been nice but…I feel like I recognise the guy in the dream but I don’t know where.” 

He nods briefly, trying to think of how to respond. You’re not sure what you expected since he’s not living in your head and what you’re looking for is unclear to even you. 

“A movie or show? New coworker you’ve only seen in passing?” 

You immediately know the answer, but indulge in Nanami by looking like you were thinking it over, shaking your head briefly with a dramatic sigh. “No, I don’t think so. It’s not often you see someone like him, so I would recognise him, I would’ve thought.” You continue. “He has really long dark hair, it’s half tied up with a cute little bang hanging down in front of his face — oh and he has the most gorgeous purple eyes and the softest smile I’ve seen on anyone.” 

It takes a moment for you to notice how stiff Nanami had gotten, frozen on the spot as his heart raced from your description. How do you not remember who the man is, yet you’re dreaming about him? It doesn’t make sense…

“Nanami? Do you know who I’m talking about?” 

Staff had entered the room with a drink delivery and Nanami almost threw away all his manners to grab his glass from the tray as quickly as possible. He mutters an apology as the woman bows after her surprise, leaving the room after setting down all the room's orders. You watch as Nanami gulps his drink, as though he needed the distraction, something to ease his conscience. 

The glass is lowered with an uncharacteristically loud hiss, placed back on the table and Nanami leans in close to your ear. “You should talk to Gojo.” 

And with that, he left the room after bidding a speedy farewell to the group. 

Burying your hands deeper in your pockets and dipping your nose behind the soft scarf wrapped around your neck, you lock your jaw to suppress a yawn and wait for Gojo’s lead. 

Despite the continued satisfying dreams, you’re still so fucking tired. Even without work and trying to catch up on sleep, it feels like something — or someone — keeps stealing your good nights rest. Last night you slept for twelve hours and it feels like you hardly got four. The dream man has been weighing heavily on your mind since Friday evening when you mentioned it to Nanami, still confused and worried with the way he left so quickly — he assured you it wasn’t anything you’d said or done, but it was definitely related. 

A chilly Sunday afternoon spent with Gojo isn’t the worst, though you’d rather be hanging out in a quiet cafe or shopping for something fun instead of wandering around the city for a stamp rally. “Where else do we need to go?” You ask passively, looking at the leaflet in Gojo’s hand out the corner of your eye. 

For a few moments he doesn’t respond, hardly even moves to show you he’s alive. Dark, square glasses are perched on his nose to shield his eyes from the world, and for a second you wonder if he’d even heard you. “There’s a couple more Family Mart locations we need to go to on the other side of the city,” He says finally with a smile, “Then I should have redeemed everything possible.” 

The leaflet is quickly folded again and slid back into his pocket, allowing him to lead the way towards the next location. Neither your mind or your heart was in the activity, and Gojo knew that from the start. Still, you trailed beside him and weaved through the busy streets of Akihabara, desperately trying to stir up a flawless plan that will get you the answers you want. The dream man didn’t seem like much of an issue at first, just something your mind had made up, until Nanami had such a strange reaction to your details. At worst, Gojo will have an equally weird response and dodge your questions – an act he is a master of. 

Inhaling deep and as quietly as possible, you start, “I’ve been having dreams lately…” It’s a good sign when Gojo hums in response, clearly half interested when beelining towards the next location. “I mentioned it to Nanami the other day and he told me to talk to you.” 

He huffed a laugh, glancing over at you from behind his glasses. “I can’t imagine why. I don’t dream about anything; it’s not like I’m an expert on the subject.” 

“I don’t know,” You respond a little defensive, “I told him I’ve been having dreams every night and it’s always the same guy in them.” Gojo wiggles his eyebrows over his glasses, a stupid grin spread across his lips. You scoff and nudge him with your shoulder, dipping your head in mild embarrassment. “Shut up.”

The conversation doesn’t progress as you both enter the Family Mart, greeted with the familiar ding and call from staff welcoming you to the store as they tend to their duties. Thankfully this location is tucked away and less busy than some of the others, easing the embarrassment of someone unintentionally eavesdropping on your conversation. 

Gojo finds the stamp set up by the door, pulling out a different piece of paper from his pocket and flattening it for inking. You watch with a pit in your stomach, hoping that he would’ve given you a proper response rather than brushing you off with his stupid, childish demeanour. He’s your friend and he’s supposed to be supporting you in your time of need, not focusing on his goddamn stamps to collect free sweets and stickers. 

“I told Nanami what the guy looks like and then he got weird with me.” You continue, leaning into the station and in turn Gojo, looking around to make sure no one could hear. “Long black hair, it’s always half up in a bun with a side bang, big black earrings, purple eyes…”

It happened again. 

Gojo visibly stiffens, a shift in the air. He holds onto the stamp against the paper longer than necessary for a small, round design and you furrow your eyebrows at him. He knows something, the same as Nanami and neither of them will tell you what any of this means. It’s too strange and consistent to be a coincidence, but you can’t figure out why you can’t get any answers on who this guy is. You’re beginning to worry he’s a criminal or worse, a long lost relative. 

A switch flipped and Gojo moved again with natural fluidity, like he wasn’t paralysed for a solid thirty seconds. The stamp is removed to show an overly inked design and slotted back into its holder, the sheet of paper held up to be admired. “I have no idea.” 

You sigh, literally deflating and clenching your fists in your pockets, holding yourself back from grabbing him by the collar and demanding answers. You should’ve expected this. 

“It sure doesn’t seem that way…”

“The brain is weird.” Gojo says with a smile, though it’s clear he’s trying to act as normal as he possibly can. There’s an inclination in his tone that’s just a little off; he definitely knows something. “It makes up everything for you, even stuff that’s not useful or meaningful to you – you know that, right?” He blows on the splotchy ink to dry it as quickly as possible. “Dreams are just your mind making up stories to keep you entertained while you sleep.”

Before you could mutter another word, Gojo was quick to leave the store with the dried stamp sheet in his pocket. He didn’t care if you had kept up with him or not – it seemed like he would be grateful if you didn’t care to follow anymore. You frown and frustration bubbles within, unwilling to give up as you rush to follow. Although not convinced of his answer, you refrain from bringing up the subject again. 

Like clockwork, the man of your dreams is here again.

This time, you're sitting in his lap, hips rocking slowly as you bounce. It fills your heart with warmth, that connection you feel to this mysterious entity is greater than before — you'd dare to say it might even be love. After fucking in your dreams every night and haunted by his presence in your memories throughout the day, it shouldn't be much of a surprise you've grown fond of him, but it doesn't feel so artificial. Maybe your mind is telling you that you do know him, there's a reason Nanami and Gojo are acting so strange.

For a moment you allow yourself to enjoy bliss. Big, strong hands hold you at your waist and let you move as you wish, though his grip reminds you he's still in control. A little too slow or a little too fast, he's squeezing supple flesh and guiding you how he needs you, hips thrusting up to meet yours with a delicious slap of skin. At this angle he's hitting every sweet spot you have, buried so deep it feels like he can reach your lungs. The room feels familiar again, still unable to place exactly where you are; it's an office, that much you can be sure of with the large desk in the centre of the room and abundance of shelves and books. It feels formal, an important space where maybe you shouldn't be on the couch fucking.

Your dream man smiles at you when you turn to him again, a sweet and sultry sight. Every dream you try to talk to him, to say something worthy of a response — instead, all you can ever muster are moans of pleasure as your pussy is fucked and eaten over and over again. Your mouth hangs open, trying to speak but the words are lodged in your throat, stuck behind the boulder that seems to appear whenever you try to focus. He's never spoken to you either, but it's unlikely that he has the same struggle as you.

His mouth is slotted over yours with ease, tongue licking into yours and you swallow his angelic moan with great enthusiasm. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him tighter into you — chest to chest, clothed this time, embracing the dream-like warmth as he remains buried deep inside of you.

When you pull away, you try again and again. The man watches with almost smug glee as you try desperately, opening and closing your mouth and swallowing down the large obstruction that keeps you from talking. He raises his eyebrows with a grin, squeezing your waist in a form of encouragement. Holding his breath and mouth agape, your dream man watches and waits to see if you'll finally mutter something out.

"Who are you?"

It falls from your lips unnaturally, stuttered out like you were speaking for the first time in centuries. Foreign to your ears but it's undeniable that those were your words. Your dream man laughs, holding back a cheer that you did it.

"Suguru." He purrs and it feels like a stab to the chest — you have no idea why.

"Suguru…?" You parrot back to him, holding back a moan as he shifts ever so slightly inside of you, hard cock brushing against your walls and sending dull waves of pleasure through your hazy mind. The name doesn't feel as strange on your tongue, rather quite natural; as though you've said it thousands, maybe millions of times before.

He hums, "I love hearing you say my name." Suguru's voice is like silk, so luxurious and soft. "You're so beautiful when you say it."

One of the hands around your waist comes up to pet your hair, so gentle that it sends pleasant shivers down your spine. The way he threads his fingers through your locks is so easy, thumb pressing against your cheek while he takes in your visual. You can't help but lean into it, smiling and holding onto his wrist to keep him in place. There's so much love shared between you that it feels impossible to have only just learnt this man's name.

Turning to kiss the palm of his hand, you mumble against his skin, "Suguru who?"

His grin widens from the adoring smirk he wore, all teeth and secrets, his eyes remain as soft as ever when they look at you. "You should ask Satoru, baby."

'We need to talk NOW'

The text burns a hole through Gojo's phone almost literally — he can feel your unbridled rage through a few words and after inviting you over, tries to recall what you could possibly be so upset with him about. Even when he opens his door to you with a bright and cheeky smile, you glare up at him with the fury of a thousand beasts.

"You can only come in if you give me a smile."

"Gojo I will kill you, infinity be damned I will find a way — now let me in." You growl and Gojo doesn't tempt fate more than he already has, relenting and stepping aside for you to walk through the door, still smiling and hoping to casually charm his way out of whatever he did this time.

"Who is Suguru?" You blurt out once you'd stormed your way into the living room, standing in the centre and folding your arms across your chest. Bile threatens to emerge just speaking his name aloud — there's something about it that brings about pleasant yet horrible feelings, boils your blood with frustration because you can't seem to figure out how you know this man.

The name bounces off of the walls and into Gojo's ears as he follows you, struggling to hide his features without any obstructions over his eyes or a tall jacket to hide the upturn at the corner of his lips. "Tea?" He offers, instead of an explanation.

"Answers, Gojo."

His face falls, stiff as a board and visibly closing up on you. While he remains in the living room, you are full of so many questions and frustration it's hard to get anything out.

"I…I keep dreaming about this guy, Suguru is all I know. I don't know if this is some — stupid weird shit going on in my head or I'm actually insane or there's a ghost that talks to me in my sleep but…!" You release the breath you'd been holding, filling your lungs again instantly. "I didn't think much about it until both you and Nanami freaked out when I mentioned what he looked like. Why do you guys know him and I don't?" Watching as Gojo avoids your line of sight, you groan and run your hands through your hair in frustration. "He — my brain, my dream, whatever told me to ask you specifically. Suguru said specifically 'ask Satoru'; I'm begging you to tell me what you know."

You expected Gojo to fight back, keep his lips sealed so tight that not even the temptation of his favourite sweets would get him to talk. Nanami's number was ready and waiting on your phone screen for when you leave, determined to get an answer from either of them one way or another.

Instead, he laughs. Shoulders deflating and head hanging low, he laughs to himself.

"I knew this would happen someday but not like this!" You blink once, twice. Is this all a joke? "Come with me, I want you to see something."

When you came here you were expecting a verbal (and possibly physical) brawl. You were pumped up and ready to fight for what you want, but since Gojo isn't matching your energy in a way that makes sense, you're left just as deflated — the difference is that you're nervous and scared, rather than his relaxed demeanour. Gojo disappears into the hallway, waiting by one of the doors for you to follow. Standing at the doorway to the living room you eyed him suspiciously, looking more like a scared child than the brazen bull you entered as. He didn't mind much, not bothering to tease you about it and instead offered his typical cheeky smile as he called for you to follow.

You watch at the entry of what looks to be a spare bedroom turned office as Gojo clambers through various items in the closet. He mumbles to himself as he slides things back and forth, looking for something on the top shelf he can easily reach. "Found it." Gojo announces, dragging out a big plastic box deep within. He huffs with its weight, readjusting his grip with it balanced on his knee for a moment and seeming to juggle with the item by himself — he'd tortured you enough that he doesn't deserve your help.

"Take a seat, relax." Gojo nods his head towards the desk chair, throwing the items that fell in his search back into the closet.

Despite your apprehension, you sit where instructed and watch Gojo drop the plastic box in front of you. Looking up at him, he motions with his hands for you to open the box yourself, taking a step back and leaning against the adjacent wall. You're scared to look inside — you trust Gojo as your friend but something about this makes you uneasy. The secrets, the feelings, what will you find out opening this box?

Part of you expects there to maybe be a dead body, even corpse pieces or a reptile or mouldy food inside. Shaky hands pop open the plastic lid and you're greeted with a bunch of paper. A layer of it scattered across the top of the box, sheets folded in numerous ways and some more worn than others. Picking one up, you recognise your handwriting instantly. It's a letter it seems, addressed to 'Sugubear' and signed off by you. The first line feels familiar but you can’t place it, a distant memory but you recognise it, almost like when you first started seeing Suguru in your dreams. You open another folded piece of paper and another; most of them are someone’s handwriting you don't recognise but it's far better than yours, elegant and practised, always addressed to you and signed by Suguru.

There's a strange feeling in your chest that's so difficult to describe. A flurry of emotions, all of it bundled together inside a bottle of confusion — you don't know what to think. You don't remember any of these letters and at the same time you do, it feels like you should remember them. Much like a word on the tip of your tongue that you can't seem to find, you feel like you should know these letters.

Beneath the paper are birthday and new years cards, all signed by Suguru. That same intricate handwriting wishing you well, signing his name with such elegance it would make anyone jealous. It feels like you're getting closer. The golden tassels of a red card are delicate under your fingertips and you know this feeling more than any other time you've given and received cards. There's happiness in your heart, flashes of glee.

Your heart races to the point it aches. A part of you doesn't want to look anymore — curiosity killed the cat and you're no longer as curious as you once were. There's so much love and happiness in all these letters, why do you feel so much grief looking at it all? Without reading everything one by one, you already know that you were in love with this man, what happened?

A large photo album sits in the centre of the box, one that has been staring at you since you uncovered the first letter. Black leather, it's sleek and expensive looking, a cherished item that's been rotting away in a plastic box. Your chest grows tight when fingertips dance along the edges of the book, scared to find out what's inside.

The first photo that greets you is one of you and Suguru, the man in your dreams. Smiling at the camera cheek to cheek, it looks like a selfie before phone cameras were such a staple. You both look younger in this photo, almost like you were teenagers. Flipping through the book, there's multiple photos of you both in here. Another is a candid shot that someone else took, you sat in Suguru's lap at what looks to be a party, based on the alcoholic can in your hand. Other pictures you're feeding each other in a restaurant, grainy photos but it seems smart phones had evolved since the first dozen pages. More pictures of you and Suguru show you both wearing what look to be school uniforms, tailored a little differently to one another but you’re still a little old to be students.

You furrow your brows when you see the next photo; it's a group shot that includes Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and all your other friends with you and Suguru. At least that explains why Gojo and Nanami reacted like they did, however you're still frustrated with their secrecy. The answer is on the tip of your tongue, the memories of this man are so close within reach.

It clicks when you see the cherry blossoms. Suguru stood before you cradling your cheek, that loving smile on his face while you laughed at the gust of wind that blew pink petals across your face. It was a sweet moment — you felt like you were in an anime. You loved this photo Utahime had taken so much that you framed it and kept it on your nightstand for years.

Clearly Suguru was your boyfriend and all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The memories of this moment come flooding back into your mind, an overwhelming sensation that draws tears into your eyes. It's hard to breathe but you can't stop looking, even if teardrops land on the clear plastic protecting lost memories. Your boyfriend who you'd spent your late teens dating, continuing into your early adult life together. Forgetting such a big part of your life is harrowing but you're grateful to have them back.

Closing the book you return to the box, picking out a little plushie tucked in between other various memories. It's an animal mascot from an anime that was popular at the time, but you remember it was so fluffy and soft. Suguru won it for you in the arcade, the first thing he'd ever gotten you since you'd begun dating, worn and squished because you'd sleep with it whenever Suguru was away on missions.

On missions.

They don't work at a fucking office. None of your friends work at an office, they work at your old school where you met. You used to work at that school — a school for jujutsu sorcerers. You're a jujutsu sorcerer, born with a unique ability and you're working a fucking office job because you forgot everything. Everything continues falling into place the more you look, the more dots you connect and realise just how much was lost. It's hard not to be angry at your friends for lying to you, but they'd hidden such a huge part of your life for what reason?

You're fully sobbing now, burying your face into the worn plushie and savouring the comfort it offers. It's painful how different your life used to be.

"There was an accident." Gojo finally speaks up, though it's not exactly the best time, you hold your breath. "Both you and Suguru." You don't recognise his voice, so low and serious it's almost like there's pain behind it. He had made peace with what happened long ago. "All three of us were out on a mission and it was too much. If it weren't for Suguru, you'd be dead."

Fragments of the incident try to make their place in your mind; all you can claw at is the feeling of grief, fear that tore through you, although you can't be sure if that's a memory or something you made up. Much like everything else, it feels familiar but distant.

"He sacrificed himself for you but you still took a serious hit to the head, one that Shoko couldn't salvage." He continues and finally, you look at him. Leaning against the wall, his head is low and arms crossed over his chest. You don't remember any of this, so you can only begin to imagine how painful it is to recall it all. "You were left with memory loss that only worsened over time. Whenever any of us brought up Suguru or being a sorcerer, you'd lose it."

That…you kind of remember. The accident is still a hazy fog, you're not sure if you even want it back. All the emotions still linger in your heart.

"You'd get angry and isolate yourself, it had all of us worried when you'd threaten us or yourself so, we pretended like none of it ever happened."

You brush your thumbs over the sewn in thread that decorates the plushie, soaking worn fur with your hot tears. It doesn't matter anymore, but you're full of regret for putting any of your friends through that.

"That box was yours. I found you a few times going through everything inside of it and it only drove you further away from us, so I kept it here with me instead." There's an apology on your lips, whispered into the plush you buried your face into. "We all pretended to be regular people like you, just so you could keep going like Suguru wanted."

Your uncontrollable wails return, shutting off any more information from Gojo entirely. It hurts, all of it hurts so much but it’s so freeing. As though you're grieving your lost love all over again, you fall into Gojo's arms when he approaches and pulls you into a hug, allowing you to get everything out of your system much like he had years prior.

"I'm sorry," You hiccup between pitiful sobs, "I'm so sorry."

Gojo laughs because that's all he can do with tears in his eyes, swallowing thick as he strokes your arms and tries to keep his own emotions tempered.

When you fall asleep that same night, you meet Suguru again. This time it was much different.

You weren't in the middle of an intimate act, no thrum of pleasure shooting through your body or comforting warmth of your love. Instead, he appeared in his teacher's uniform standing beneath a tree, pink cherry blossoms lazily drifting around him. Never have you been so excited to see him before.

"Suguru!"

He turns but he already knew you were there, smiling so sweetly and opening his arms for you. Running as fast as you could, you leap into him with a giggle, wrapping your limbs around his body and squeezing tight. You never want to let go again.

"Satoru told you." Suguru states, voice muffled by the press of your shoulder against his lips. Pulling back, you pepper his face in as many kisses as you could.

"I'm sorry I forgot about you."

Suguru chuckles, creating a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. "It's okay, I'm just glad you remember." He kisses your cheek all the way to your lips, sweet and purposeful. "I love you."

"I love you too. I'm never going to forget you again, promise."

[nadas-dirthalen]

just want to say again that bioware did an amazing job with the inquisitor's missives. it's impossible to nail the voice of every single inquisitor that has ever existed in the last 10 years, but if you go over the actual events described in the missives, they are perfect.

they fit just as well for celene being kept as empress, gaspard ruling alone, or briala using gaspard to rule. they impact the divine no matter who you chose as divine because val royeaux falls to the same anti-emperor/empress rebels. ferelden/orlais tensions are kept high throughout, with the inquisitor acting (again!) as the sole peacekeeper between them.

oh, and the dwarves? orzammar is mentioned throughout, has its own storyline, and survives the final blight. the avvar? good news! the chasind/avvar are recruited as the inquisition's allies, and negotiate a temporary peace with ferelden, and are responsible for most of the inquisition's resources/food in the late game!

the entire series of missives is filled with constant callbacks to da:o, and even goes out of its way to say that the events of da:o are why the blight is shaped like it is in the south. the blight left behind seeds of itself, which makes sense, because all along, the blight has been the evanuris' weapon controlled through their archdemons, and elgar'nan/ghilan'nain would know that june's recent death was due to the hero of ferelden. the evanuris are family (however you decide to interpret that) despite their disagreements; of course both remaining evanuris are spiteful enough to re-enact origins just to hurt the people of thedas that much more.

i constantly see posts saying the inquisitor has no role, no purpose, in veilguard.

to me, they're wrong.

the inquisitor's role is holding all of southern thedas together as solas' failed ritual threatens to tear it all apart. everything they worked for, together. everything they did, everything they feared losing once, together. whether you headcanon that as an incredibly angry and upset inquisitor seeing the last of the good parts of solas' efforts destroyed, or you romanced solas and your inquisitor is fighting to preserve what remains of their relationship with solas while rook works on freeing him... the inquisitor is doing something, and on just as grand of a scale as rook.

and there is no one else who could do it but them. the only person that both orlais and ferelden will listen to equally is the inquisitor.

they are not going through da:tv to free solas. that has to be done by someone that solas doesn't expect, doesn't know (and no, he does not expect/know rook; they continually surprise him in ways not even the inquisitor surprised him).

the inquisitor is holding the world together so that there is anything at all left in the south to rebuild, and the instant they have a free moment, they charge into minrathous as the very last (and perhaps most vital) piece of rook's entire plan. something rook kept carefully concealed the entire time.

you know.

the pawn who was subtly moved all the way across the board, despite the fact that solas was looking for it the whole time.

that isn't rook being stupid, or mindless. that is rook, morrigan, and the inquisitor being incredibly smart.

don't believe me? still want to cry "but the art book" about it? go look for the page where it says that trying to reason with solas too early led to the game ending prematurely, with rook dead.

[scrompsmilanodiaries]

Christmas time is here

A Christmas gift for everyone. Word count:786

It's been a brutal and hectic few months for the guardians of the galaxy, with jobs galore and each of them getting more crazier than the one before. But with Christmas just around the corner, Quill wanted to ease everyone's minds and celebrate being in each other's company.

So when December 1st rolled around...

"Hey Groot, Got a task for you" He smiled softly.

"I am Groot ??"

"Remember when I was talking about those tree that Terran's decorated when the very last month comes up ??"

"I am Groot" He nodded.

"Well, today's the day buddy, let's make ourselves a tree"

The other guardians heard some scuffling and constant drags across the floor, once they went to check out what was causing it, most of them were confused except for you.

"Is that a Christmas tree ??" You asked with a smile, god it feels like forever since you celebrated it.

"You bet your buns it is" Quill nodded.

"How does one sell y/n's buttocks peter quill ?? They are attached to them" Drax chimed in to which everyone sighed in dissapointment.

"Well whatever it is, I ain't wanting to be apart of all that sparkle, It's giving me a headache" Rocket began to walk away.

"Oh come on dude, It's a fun time. We all get to hang out and do fun things" You tried to hype it up.

"Like we don't already ??" He chuckled.

So with that, you made it your mission to get Rocket on board with the whole thing. Starting with little things like creating advent calendars for everyone.

"So when a new day arrives, you flip it over as we lead to Christmas eve" You showed him.

"Not bad craftsmanship but still not on board" He returned to his project, making you pout a little.

The next day you brought out a USB stick with some movies and a projector, getting everyone around for movie night.

"What are we watching y/n ??" Mantis asked curiously.

"A Christmas classic" You then pressed play on Die hard.

You could see some glimmer in Rocket's eyes as the whole movie played, But once it ended it quickly dissipated.

"The action scenes looked cool, but don't understand why they had to set it around that time, could've been any other flarking day in my opinion" He jumped off the couch and wandered off.

Every day, you started to grow a little sad that he didn't want any part of it. It was now Christmas Eve. You were sitting in front of the tree with the lights fully shining, the tinsel adding to the effect as well. Everyone was in bed and fast asleep or so you thought.

"What are you still doing up ??" A familiar voice chimed as he then joined you.

You looked at him and then sighed. "Christmas isn't about movies and trees and buckets of food... It's about spending time with the people that care about you the most... I'm sorry for trying to force all of these things on you..." You looked back at the tree.

Rocket looked at you, He was incredibly touched by your statement. He knew you cared about him... and he did too. The countless times that you had helped him, saving his butt out on missions, comforting him after his nightmares... He considered you a close friend rather than an ally.

"Ahh flark it" He went over to the tree and scrummaged through the bottom until he pulled out a box. "Merry Christmas..." He muttered, trying not to act too soft.

You slowly smiled at him as you gently took the box out of his hands, he got you a gift... "Thanks"

You began to slowly open it and inside your eyes widened, It was an old Playstation 2 from your childhood, It looked in tact as well. "Woah, Theirs some games inside too" Your smile growing wider.

"Cost me a lot of units, so you better be appreciating it" He smirked.

You then placed the box down and then moved to the tree, pulling out another gift before handing it to him.

"It's only fair" You smiled.

Rocket looked at you like a deer in the headlights before then opening the gift. Inside was the new version of a jetpack he wanted to ste.. uh... get.

"Pretty cool huh ??" You looked down at the jet pack.

Before you could even do anything, He lunged at you, wrapping his arms around your neck as happy tears started to fall down, He was incredibly touched by the gift... You really did care for him, You happily returned the gesture by wrapping your arms around him, Holding him close and tight.

"Merry Christmas Rocket"

A/N: Apologies if this isn't on par, it's been a while since I wrote anything so I'm a tad rusty.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[vmures]

New bill has been introduced to the House of Representatives Defining Biological Sex

This is something that has potential to harm a lot of people, including but not limited to, intersex folks, trans folks, and even cis folks. Laws like this can be built on and used to rigidly enforce very specific gender roles and hierarchies.

They can also be used to enact stronger limitations on very specific health care procedures, including necessary hormone replacement therapy for cis people who have medical conditions requiring hormone replacement therapy. People of all genders experience changes in their hormone cycles as they age and frequently need hormone replacement therapy to help improve their day to day life. This sort of law would help make outlawing hormonal treatments across the board. Already people, cis and otherwise, are having difficulty getting progesterine and/or testosterone. I know my very cis brother-in-law has had difficulties getting testerone treatments, which again, are frequently a necessary thing for aging men. Similarly, menopausal cis women are struggling to get progesterone.

Laws like this will also mean that all children must be assigned male or female at birth. This is incredibly harmful to intersex children in particular and can result in genital mutilation and forced surgeries.

If you live in the US, it is important that you contact your congress person and tell them that you want them to vote no on this and why. You can find out who your congress person is here.

Here is a link to the full text of the proposed bill:

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Not How His Monday Was Supposed to Go

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

The new Wayne Enterprises board member has had enough of Bruce’s shit.

Warnings: Bruce is a bit of an asshole and a pig, mention of a family member needing surgery, swearing, reader is a girlboss, Bruce is low-key a sub, implied smut

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

When you agreed to act as your father’s representative for Wayne Enterprises as he recovered from surgery, you certainly weren’t expecting the CEO of the company to stroll in three hours late, dark purple bruises littering his muscular neck, dark shades perched on the end of his nose, suit and hair ruffled. 

You huffed as he crumpled into the stupidly expensive chair at the head of the table, only four seats down from you. You had to admit he was a very handsome man, with broad shoulders and dark hair that seemed to curl perfectly around his sculpted face. He gave an air of intimidation but his bright blue eyes made him seem approachable. “So what’d I miss?”

And suddenly your attraction to the man was gone.

Every meeting that followed, Bruce would strut into the room several hours late, one time he was already there when everyone arrived but he was asleep and still wearing the same clothes as the day before. Most times, he wouldn’t even show up, but when he did, he wouldn’t contribute anything meaningful to the conversation, simply giving generic anecdotes that related to the women he had seduced.

The most aggravating thing was, you knew how intelligent he could be. Sometimes it would just slip out. He would say something profound and incredibly smart but he would quickly catch himself and wave it off with some half-hearted comment like “or whatever the senator told me last night. Though I could have heard her wrong, her mouth was quite full”. It irked you to no end, especially being the only woman serving on the board.

As the weeks dragged on and your father’s health was improving, your own mental health was going completely downhill and by the time your last day arrived, you were done with this alpha male bullshit that Bruce loved to instigate. So, as your final meeting ended, which Bruce conveniently didn’t attend, you stormed off, ready to give the man a piece of your mind.

Your heels clacked on the polished floor leading to the massive corner office he had claimed for himself. As you neared the huge dark gray doors, you paused for a moment, pulling down your pencil skinny so it sat lower down your plump thighs instead of bunching up, and making sure you didn’t have any of those dreaded button gaps around your considerable bust. 

Taking in one last deep breath, trying to will yourself not to straggle the man right as you saw him, you gave a firm knock to the door and walked in. 

Your boss was hunched over his desk, intently staring at what appeared to be blueprints. His dark Armani suit jacket was off and hanging over the back of his chair, leaving him in only a white button-up that stretched across the bulk of his muscles. 

“Mr Wayne.” He glanced up from his work and a brief look of shock flashed across his face before he steeled his expression once more.

He muttered your name as he pushed his work to the side. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” The words were polite but his tone was anything but. He sounded like a typical frat boy who felt entitled to your attentions and affections. Your face fell into a scowl.

The door shut behind you with a slam, but you did not flinch. “Mr Wayne, this visit will be anything except a pleasure.” You strode forward with all the confidence in the world, anger swirling around you. “I have sat in that boardroom for weeks watching as you indulged men far below your moral and social standing. You have let them run wild, making a fool out of not only themselves but of you and your business.”

Bruce sat back in his chair, eyes wide as he watched you get closer and closer. “And I have had enough. I can see right through you Mr Wayne. You’re a smart man, you’re compassionate and generous, and yet you still act like these worms, pretend to be like them for some dumbass reason.”

You planted your hands onto his desk and loomed over the CEO. “So no matter what you do outside of this office that might redeem your flimsy character, you still let shit like this happen here and that makes you just as bad as those little boys. Fuck you Mr Wayne. Next time I see you, I will kick you in the nuts so hard your kids will feel it.”

And with that you turned and strode out like a conquering hero before realising you forgot something. You stuck your head back into his office. “Oh and go to all your meetings like a goddamn adult.” The door slammed shut on a bewildered looking Bruce who’s pants suddenly seemed a couple sizes too small.

“Wait wait wait. So the first time mom talked to you she cussed you out and threatened to assault you!” Tim exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. Dick and Jason seemed both amused and disgusted while Damian just looked at his father with immeasurable disappointment. Bruce smirked as he watched his boys have a simultaneous meltdown. The question had been a simple one, how did their parents meet, but it seems like they weren’t ready for the answer

“Yep.” He said proudly. “And let me tell you, it was the sexiest thing she’s ever done.”

“Ugh!”

“Gross!”

“Y’all are nasty!”

“Don’t talk about our mother like that!” They all screamed at once and, like usual, came to protect your honour. But Bruce just chuckled.

“She was a powerful woman, what can I say?” 

“Was?” You cooed suddenly over his shoulder. “Who’s the one running Wayne Enterprises now?” Your sharp nails dragged along the skin top of his chest where his tight shirt didn’t cover. He shivered under your touch, his entire body going to mush.

You looked up from your now boneless husband to your sons. “Your father was a real piece of work when I first met him but I fixed him up real good.” You purred and pressed the tips of your nails into his skin.

Jason was the first to break, surprisingly. “Jesus Christ!” He cried out, slapping his hands over his ears. Then, they toppled like dominos.

Dick was positively green, Tim had a vein in his neck that looked like it was about to burst and Damian was glaring at the floor. “Go on boys, get out of here before I teach your father another lesson.” In a collective pile, they tumbled from the room, scrambling to get as far away as possible.

Bruce turned swiftly as soon as the boys were out of earshot and grabbed your hips to tug you down onto the chair with him. “Come on, Mrs Wayne, tell me how bad I’ve been.”

Request: Meets her at Wayne Co, she’s a new board member and have a few words for playboy Bruce who misses many meetings

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[thekrakenlolz]

Start up Fic - Ellie Williams x Reader

part 2

Summary: You switch dorms at your boarding school after you and your girlfriend go through a messy break up and you no longer can handle being roommates with her. Only your new one is a different kind of problem

a/n: I wrote the first chapter only to realize I have no idea what comes next. So here's my plan: if y'all like the set up, you can give me suggestions for what you want to happen next. I basically just laid down the base. So you can read it if you want and see if you have any ideas. But just as a warning, I'm not gonna write smut without a plot, I'm not about that life. I have a vague idea of what I can put next but it's very cliche and overdone sooooo yeah, thanx in advance<3

Also, English is my third language so expect bad grammar

°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-

Your eyes wandered over the walls as you walked along them. The paint was starting to flake off, revealing the concrete underneath. Your school was old. Like old, old. Like Victorian ages old. Something most of your friends scoffed over, but you personally liked. You thought it gave it character. Of course a little bit of a touch up wouldn't hurt, but bathroom doors that are actually still attached to the stall hinges were overrated anyways.

You were following Miss Jenkins, your housemother, hunched over as you were balancing three of your bags on your back. Uncomfortable, yes, but you were trying to minimize the amount of trips you had to make to move all your shit over to your new dorm. Anything to avoid seeing Samira more than absolutely fucking necessary.

"Here we are" Miss Jenkins sighed, stopping in front of one of the gray doors. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. You were still pissed that you had to put in 4 requests over the duration of 2 months before they finally assigned you a new room, but now she was acting like she was doing you a huge favor. Like taking 15 minutes out of her day was so much to ask for. But you kept it down, thanking her again before opening the door and stepping in.

The lengthy process of actually getting a new room gave you plenty of time to stress over who your new roommate would be. This girl, however, didn't even come to mind. You weren't even sure what her name was, your social circle and her's didn't interact much. E-something? Or was it L?

Mystery girl was sitting at her desk, headphones in, and carefully shading out something in her notebook. You noticed she had tucked her left leg under her, a bad habit you also possessed. She didn't register your presence, her eyes still fixed on the paper. You threw your bags next to your bed, which finally caught her attention. "Oh fuck" she jumped up from the desk and hurried over to your bed, picking up the stuff she dumped on it. "Hello to you too" you mused.

Sweatshirts, textbooks and pencils started flying over onto her bed. "I'm sorry, I thought I had until Sunday to get my shit off your side" She explained, tossing a hairbrush across the small room. You watched it hit the wall and fall down onto her Zelda themed sheets. Cute, you noted. "No worries, take your time, I still have stuff to move over"

So you were back in the hallway, slowly but surely making your way back to your old dorm and with that, to Samira. Now that you were by yourself, you took the time to think about your new roommate. You still didn't know her name but one thing was for certain: she was incredible looking.

Her thick straight auburn hair cut off above the shoulders and her cheeks were densely dotted with freckles. She was very toned, especially in the arms. She was probably in the lacrosse team.

You did notice she was more on the masculine side, so might maybe even be gay. You full stopped, forcing yourself to remember, that's exactly the type of shit that got you in your current situation in the first place. No fucking your roommate, dude, we talked about this.

--------

You took a moment to collect yourself before entering your old room. You drew a breath in, scanning the ugly grey door that separated you and her. 12B the lettering read, touched up with some sharpie. You reached for the knob.

She was sitting at her desk, scrolling on her phone and demonstratively ignoring your presence. You bit down on the inside of your cheek. This wasn't what you expected. Somehow you preferred another stupid fight over this new silence.

You stacked two backpacks on one arm and three bags on the other. The weight made your walk out rather inelegant. You stopped in the doorway. "Goodbye Sami."

You could practically feel her hesitate.

"Bye."

[nesscel]

after what feels like 5 years i managed to draw my blue lock ocs ^_^ info is in read more

(⚠️ warning for brief discussion of self harm, child abuse, bulimia and suicide)

Cyril Niemir (Cyryl Niemir/シリル ニエミル)

Polish 1st generation immigrant and recovering hikikomori, 19 years old, BPD prince. He was born in Kocmyrzów (near Kraków) and currently lives in Tokyo. Occasional photographer for promotional Blue Lock material and Anri’s errand boy, otherwise a NEET.

The youngest of 6 children (2 brothers, 3 sisters) born in an incredibly religious family. Since early childhood he’d have frequent emotional meltdowns and bouts of auto-aggressive behavior, eventually developing a morbid obsession with death and suicide in elementary school. This lead to him spending 8 torturous years in a christian boarding school for girls to “fix his attitude”. He ran away to Japan after graduating high school and suffered an extreme mental breakdown right after the move, which spiraled into a 5 month long depressive episode during which he’d only self harm, browse the internet and sleep.

As is the case for many useless pests with no ambitions and no future, the thing that finally got him back on his feet was finding an oshi. During a perfectly legal watch party of his favorite reality show, he became interested in a new contestant from Germany with pink hair and pronouns. He’s garnered some attention on Blue Lock twitter for his collection of Ness merch (which he calls “his shrine”) and the insane arguments he’d get into with Ness haters. You don’t see Ness superfans that often after all. He got suspended for promoting violence twice and ran away to reddit to moderate r/AlexisNess. It’s fun there... it’s not just Ness… it’s the r/stunfisk of Blue Lock Reddit :)

I don’t like talking about the yume shit. Please fill in the blanks yourselves. Thank you.

He has cheek piercings, a tattoo of two stars on his inner left hand above the wrist and a tattoo of a lighter with cute keychains on his left thigh. His prescription glasses are +1,5.

Sebastian Tsureo (セバスチャン 連尾)

Polish-Japanese 2nd generation immigrant born in Nagaoka (in the Chūbu region), 16 years old. Father is japanese, mother is polish. Their parents divorced when the twins were 6 due to creative differences, with Sebastian choosing to stay with their father.

To an outside observer, Sebastian dealt with half of his family suddenly going no-contact in a mature and healthy way. He didn’t get into trouble or act out at school, he got along with his classmates and often spent time with them outside of school, he practiced football with his dad before he was old enough to be eligible for his school’s football club, and devoted himself to improving his technique and synchronizing with his teammates when he eventually managed to make it onto the team. Despite his positive attitude in public, Sebastian was a resentful, wounded child with no healthy emotional outlet. He dealt with his anger and abandonment issues by seeking adrenaline, putting himself in dangerous situations (jaywalking on busy streets, exploring structurally unsafe abandoned buildings, practice fighting with his friends, etc.).

During his stay at a psychiatric hospital after a failed suicide attempt at the age of 13, Sebastian was introduced to art therapy. He was entirely opposed to it at first, stating that making gratitude collages and matching colors to his emotions was a “gay and useless” coping mechanism. Upon returning home and regaining access to the internet, however, he stumbled across a forum thread discussing guro manga and vent art, which sounded kind of like art therapy… but way more awesome. Aside from becoming the best football player he could possibly be, his new goal was to become the best body horror artist anyone’s ever seen! Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, his ambitions have not changed much in the three years following his release from the hospital.

He was scouted for Blue Lock by Anri after his high school’s team won a prefecture-wide tournament.

Adrian Tsureo (エイドリアン 連尾)

Polish-Japanese 2nd generation immigrant born in Nagaoka (in the Chūbu region), 16 years old. Father is japanese, mother is polish. Their parents divorced when the twins were 6, after which Adrian chose to move out to Shizuoka with his mother.

Adrian didn’t have much trouble adjusting to life in a bigger city, particularly due to his great spatial awareness, but had issues socializing with his peers, being used to having his brother by his side. Anytime he mentioned the rest of their family to his mother though, she’d respond by telling him his father was a deadbeat who relied on her to survive and that his brother would probably grow up to be a criminal or the dead body school children find by a river and poke with sticks (this eventually evolved into “he’s probably in juvie already”).

As soon as he expressed an interest in football, his mother became possessed by the spirits of June Shannon and the mom from Dance Moms who didn’t know who Rosa Parks was. She treated her son’s football career like pageantry, intending to make him a star player no matter what. This involved rigorous training, a strict diet and making changes to his appearance in order to create “a personal brand”. He had to keep a tan complexion, by training outside during summer and using self-tanner during winter; his hair was dyed blonde and permed frequently, which eventually resulted in his natural hair starting to fall out around age 12 or 13, after which he was forced to wear a wig (the green hair in the drawing is his natural hair after regrowth, he stopped wearing the dumbass wig as soon as he left for Blue Lock, he wears a hat because he’s kind of embarrassed by its state). Stewing in the hatred he felt not only for his mother, but also his dad and brother for “not rescuing him”, he began coping by overeating at school and on his way home, the only times when he wasn’t around his mother or coach, then excessively training or vomiting to avoid punishment (so… bulimia).

He was scouted for Blue Lock by Anri, who found his use of defensive tactics as a striker interesting.

The twins’ heartwarming reunion took place in the Blue Lock cafeteria during second selection, with them having a violent physical altercation, airing out 10 years of unresolved, bottled up anger and resentment. Their patience was tested again when they both chose Team B during the 3rd selection, with the two having progressively more violent fights in the common areas. After Sebastian managed to nearly break Adrian’s nose, both of them were reprimanded by Anri personally, told that if they caused any more issues they’d both be kicked out of the Blue Lock program, and subsequently moved to team A and C.

Their relationship slowly began to turn around after a particularly awkward conversation about their family lives in a Blue Lock bathroom stall, where Sebastian accidentally walked in on Adrian purging. They officially reconciled on the benches in the middle of the Blue Lock vs U-20 match, with nobody paying attention to them because they were all watching Rin and Sae. As a sign of their newly-developed friendship, they both joined Barcha as a striker (Sebastian) and goalkeeper (Adrian). Their first shared goal is to finally make friends! ^_^ They go about this by just sort of staring and grinning at people.

As a treat for reading, here are snippest of their egoist bibles with the most important info. I can tell you’d be devastated if you didn’t know who was team mushrooms and who was team bamboo.

Cyril / Sebastian / Adrian

[whiteheartlight]

thinking more about my idea where Artakha has mini versions of the Toa Mata made (Matoran-esque) for personality and neurological testing. they won't remember any of it when they're Toa but it's a test run for him to check some things

little Kopaka hates having any kind of testing done on him and is always aware of experiments. he keeps purposefully skewing results and acting against his impulses whenever Artakha tries to test him in a situation. Artakha takes this to mean that he's perfect

the Matoran on Artakha have gotten very used to peace and quiet and certain mini Toa Mata (one in particular) keep disrupting them... but then reminding them how to throw better parties

balancing Tahu's temper between the lines of "soft-hearted" and "insensibly filled with rage" takes SO many models. when Artakha settles on his final personality Kopaka looks at him like he's lost his mind

Gali gets annoyed with Artakha one day and just surfs out to the edge of the realm and won't come back in. it starts storming and she won't get off her board all day no matter what he tells her. on a similar note, Onua has been found digging straight down Minecraft style and getting himself stuck very contentedly miles below the surface

Pohatu loves living in Artakha and starts picking up every hobby the incredibly skilled craftsmen who live there will teach him

Karzahni hasn't quite lost it completely at this point in time, but when he comes to visit his brother, he's intensely jealous of the little life forms he has running around. he wants Artakha to make a Toa Mata for him too. the mini Mata are generally uncomfortable around him, but Pohatu makes an effort to befriend his uncle, which is when Artakha starts to feel that his creations are not safe around his brother. Karzahni is much too eager to have some company

Artakha tries the marshmallow test where you give a kid a treat and tell them that they can eat it now or wait and have another one later. Lewa and Tahu can't wait for a second one, Onua and Gali can. Kopaka, to Artakha's surprise, eats his immediately, and when Artakha asks if he couldn't be patient, Kopaka tells him he has much more important things to do. When Pohatu gets his second marshmallow, he offers it to Artakha

Artakha designs them carefully to balance each other out, and is very focused on the synthesis of the Kaita. Pohatu should energize Onua and Tahu, Tahu should call Onua and Pohatu to action, Onua should direct them both with a little more wisdom. Kopaka should be Wairuha's cold intellect, Gali should be their stability, and Lewa should be their verve and joy.

there is a point where he makes the Kaita too different from each other, and suddenly he's noticing Tahu sprinting across the hall to get away from Kopaka and Gali because they started prophesying at him while speaking at the same time again and he HATES that. Artakha brings them back down to earth a little

there's also a point where Onua studies and understands Artahka's plans and notes so thoroughly that he figures out exactly what his destiny will be. Artakha looks at him for a second and just goes "I'm going to turn you off now, Onua" and ok that's fair

it's very different for Artakha to have new creations running around, breaking things, causing fights, and getting into trouble when he's been used to nothing but Great Spirits and perfect Matoran for so long. he finds he doesn't mind it too much. when Lewa paints poorly over the masterpieces in the dining hall, Tahu and Gali break ancient weapons while "playing," and Onua gets mud all over the floors, Artakha leaves things messy.

[thingsarentgreat]

I don't know how to tell you that you should care about other people.

I keep reflecting to determine if there's something more within me that's causing me to still feel so incredibly sick by it all. Really trying to expose the raw roots of the feeling to see if it stems from some kind of selfishness. And I suppose it does. But to reduce it to just that would also be lying, because it's a combination of poisons down in that soil. It's betrayal and a feeling of isolation amongst a group I thought I once knew, and then that selfish and bitter root grows in like a weed. I can only quietly observe to myself: "ah. this is where the radicalization and rampant nationalism come from. this is why I see it flowering in my family."

It's because I feel my trust breaking all over again each time I forget about it and try to go on with my business. I remember that I still can't mourn publicly without someone educating me on why obviously if I'm mourning, I must have Insert Political Alignment Here. I remember the utter silence and the downright celebration of more civilian deaths because "oh, fuckin Yaya or whatever deserved it after what Israel does."

For the record, Yaya-Or-Whatever didn't deserve it, and I still remember the lead dropping into my stomach upon hearing that from a friend. No one deserves it. No one ever deserves it.

I don't know how to tell you that you should care about other people.

Maybe that's a quote leftists recognize, but I realize now that few of them actually stick to it across the board. And I'm admittedly selfish, because I hoped that leftists could at least have a moment to care about my people suffering too before getting back to helping the people who currently need the most help. But instead we got "Yaya-Or-Whatever Deserved It." And I've been laying here for months watching everyone on the left just go back to the usual armchair activism as if they didn't just fucking say that, and when I do bring it up, suddenly I'm the problem for pointing out that it was fucked up.

You won't erase it, fyi. We saw you say it. Some of you said it with your full fucking chest. You were callous and let the antisemites into the bar by openly celebrating Jewish death. Then you pretended we were talking about Palestine when we pointed out your antisemitic actions. You know that's not what we were even pointing to as an example. But it's very convenient for you to pretend we don't know the difference, isn't it?

I don't know. It's just a reminder that most of you are actually all talk and virtue signals. There's no actual substance behind your ideals, you're just adhering to the party line, same as conservatives do. I guess I was naive to think otherwise. It's disingenuous for you to wonder why people leave the leftist movement as a whole and "suddenly" flip sides. You know why, and it's reasons like this - you're just covering it up and pretending it's a totally different, more convenient reason.

Tldr; you're hypocrite ass leftists and fuck you. You should be ashamed of how you acted.

[brsomebody]

Thoughts on Hades 2 (based on the Test)

- Melinoë is really cool and very different from Zagreus, but you can tell they're related.

- Her moveset is a lot deeper than Zag's was. Lots of different options - three different main attacks and charged versions

- Enemies in this area are a lot more challenging than the first area of Hades, with a few requiring specific methods to take them out effectively. Mini bosses were no joke.

- The test has two weapons available, the staff and her knife/sickle combo. I found the staff to be overall better at dealing with the enemies in the test, but I think the sickles just need a damage boost. They feel like the gauntlets from Hades.

- There are some absolutely game-changing boons from new gods that are on par with/stronger than the best Athena and Zeus ones from Hades. I'd expect some of these to be less strong in the final release, but playing with them was great.

- Voice acting across the board is stellar, and the art is as impeccable as always for Supergiant.

- The menu music is incredible

- also them:

[forklesbian]

More stuff related to my conspiracy theorist idea: How difficult I think it would be to find images of the Mechs in universe (if they aren't holding a show near you) and how Morrigan (The conspiracy theorist. {Thanks for the name @purelunaris!}) managed it.

It's fairly easy to find images of Johnny, if you look through most police records. He leaves most cameras that catch photos of him intact and is incredibly proud of all his mugshots and wanted posters. No matter the time or place, he's the easiest to find.

Marius had a brief period of time where he got really into publishing shitty self-help books, and he put different pictures of him acting out the 'advice' in the book. All the photos look like weird stock photos and are of him doing things like sitting on a pile of hundreds of violins or burning down another psychiatrists office. The books are still mass produced for some reason.

Raphaella shows up in various science textbooks, mostly under aliases. Many professionals photos and sketches are very easy to find copies of. Though you do have to buy several textbooks about the full history of magnets just to cut out a small black-and-white picture of her.

The Toy Soldier is famous and infamous across many planets militaries, so many depictions of it show up all across history. The problem is that most of the time, it tries to blend as a regular human soldier, so depending on a galaxies milliary history, it could be near impossible to find good quality proof of it. But when there's a will there's a way and where theirs a need for old books, there's a second-hand book store.

Brian has many art pieces of him made by followers over the years, many of them preserved as the religions grew even after he left. A few of the branches hand out little pamphlets with pictures of him in a stain glass window style! You do have to listen to a religious rant, though...

Ashes made sure the only photos available of them weren't actually photos, but instead highly expensive oil paintings. So most of the time, the only way to actually own a photo of them is to shell out a ridiculous amount of money to buy a centuries old painting... or you could quickly copy down a recreation of the painting onto line paper while visiting a museum.

Only a few photos are available of Gunpowder Tim because while many have been taken, the cameras usually don't survive long enough afterward, usually being found blown to smithereens. Thankfully, there are a few portraits of him that Ashes had commissioned of them as Persephone and other roles. Those were also copied down onto notebook paper.

Photos of Nastya are incredibly rare, but an old portrait of some old princess named Anastasia fits her description well enough to earn a spot on the conspiracy board, so on it goes!

Photos of Ivy are even harder to find, leading to Morri knowing next to nothing about her, leading to them somehow coming to the conclusion that she has to be some evil mastermind.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday my lovely readers :) We’ve reached the episode that rocked me to my very core. Honestly haven’t been this attached to a ship in a very very long time. Years passed without this level of attachment. Bringing out sides of me I didn't think existed. Like doing reviews. But our ship is something special even when they rip our hearts out. I blame Eric and Melissa LOL They are INCREDIBLE in this episode. The both of them. Brought their A game and then some.

This ep legit affected my mood for 3 weeks no joke and utterly destroyed me. I needed extra days to decompress before did my mini. The fandom was so lovely about that too. Love this fandom so much. I still don't know how I got that out tbh lol Also God Bless my bestie D for going through that with me. I got to watch it early that day which normally didn’t get to. Was usually after work. I remember D wanted to stop me but didn’t cause she couldn’t tell me why..

I had to go to a company meeting after and pretend I wasn’t devastated. Be a positive fun leader when inside I was dying. I did a good job my team had no idea lol But damn that was tough. Never been happier for a 3 week break than after this one. We all needed it. Let us begin. And thank you all again for going through this heartbreak with me. Gif count was rough for me so I fit in everything I could and made a ton.

6x06 Secrets and Lies

We start out with Lucy looking as stressed and anxious as we’ve ever seen her. Laying in bed but most definitely is not resting. The brutal toll this situation has taken becoming visible. When Tamara asks how stressed she is from 1-10? Lucy answering 19….Ooof....Could not be more relatable if she tried. When I get this laser focused I too am a nineteen. Her person has been radio silent for days. Her last contact with him was a massive knock out drag out fight.

This is the most time they’ve spent apart since they got together. Like I stated last review other than 6x01 they've scarcely been away from one another. Her UC mission in 5x21 yes but doesn’t really count. They talked every single day. So it’s truly the longest they’ve been apart. No wonder she is at a 19. Poor Lucy. Kills me. Such a wreck without him. Tamara asks if Tim is still ghosting her? Lucy tries to defend their situation. Not well but she sure tries lol

Lucy is barely keeping it together and it shows. I love that we get a shot of her pin-up board from that BTS video. The cupcake poster hehe Hopefully that makes a triumphant return in s7. Tamara doesn’t want to add to her stress... But let's her know she wants to move out. With friends from school. Worst timing ever. It makes sense but the timing is horrendous. Lucy takes so many hits this season. It’s almost worse the second time around somehow.

This time Lucy goes to an actual adult about Tim. Not useless Nolan who was painfully inept for her. Couldn’t fit it in but we see her touch her tattoo when she approaches Angela. *heart clutch* I love Melissa for doing it every time though. So subtle yet impactful. Nice little mini gut punch to start the scene. This was the right call though. If anyone knows Tim like her it’s Angela. Lucy asking if she should alert Grey? Honestly she should've but here we are. That would've been a whole other set of problems though...

Lucy feels like she’s going insane so Angela validating her helps. (at first) You know she finds this behavior of his incredibly alarming. We can see the immediate worry painted across her face. That’s her brother. She loves that man like he’s one. What sucks is that, even though Angela is empathetic, she doesn’t fulfill the needs that Lucy is going for. Which is reassurance and 'Hey let’s do this together.' A united front. Hoping since he is acting off Angela's reply would be 'Let's find out why as a team.' She is protecting her but Lucy is in a heightened emotional state and doesn't see that. Only see's being shut out further from Tim.

Angela plays her cards very close to her chest. Like a good detective would. Sadly Lucy wanted more solace than just ‘Trust him.’ That’s all she’s been doing for days. Poor woman is going out of her damn mind with worry. Even tells Angela as such. The reply she gets back not what she wanted… She wanted her detective gut and friendship. Unfortunately she just gets the former. That short lived validation she got earlier dying off quickly. Lucy is so damn upset when she takes off from the convo. Knowing if she sticks around she’s going to cry on shift. My damn heart. Melissa be killing me. Holy hell.

Angela scaring the crap out of Tim is hilarious. Serves him right tbh. This episode had me so upset and twisted, I couldn’t even enjoy scruffy Tim in a leather jacket. You know something is wrong when I can’t gawk over this man. Angela has zero trouble finding him. Because well it’s her. This is why Lucy enlisted her. She needed the best to help her. Such best friend behavior from the minute she enters his car.

Drinking his soda, calling him out, and asking WTF is going on? I adore her brazen bravery. This is why we love Angela Lopez. Willing to get herself fired for him. That she can take the hit not Lucy. I mean she’s not wrong….Angela could easily live off Wes. She would hate it but she could. It's a more viable option. Says it can be ‘Wine o’clock for her.’ LOL I always enjoy them. More of them in s7 please writers.

Tim doesn’t argue with her reasoning. Starts to explain the whole Ray debacle. Why he can’t just let him go. What he has on him. That he needs to catch him in a new crime. So he has reason to actually arrest him. Once Tim fully explains Angela just replies. ‘I’m in.’ Tim is shocked because of course he is ha Even though she is his best friend he can't believe has his back like this. Oh my broken boy. He double checks and asks if she’s sure? Her reply being the absolute best. ‘Yeah. I got your back boo.’ Hehe Lucky she’s your best friend my love.

We rejoin our bestie duo at the docks. Scoping out Ray on whatever back door deals he’s doing. She is studying Tim hard in this scene. It’s the best. Angela tries to impart some logic to Tim. Saying he’s followed Ray for two days and nothing. Asking how long he’s going to do this? Tim replying the most Tim Bradford reply. ‘As long as it takes.’ Angela is on her game today and doesn’t let him get away with it. Saying he’s just going to walk away from his job? From his relationship with Lucy? All to arrest a guy he hasn’t thought about in over a decade?

Something isn’t adding up for her and she is letting him know it. Angela gives her patented look. Knowing it’s something more. There’s a reason she’s such a good detective. Woman knows how to get to the root of things. Tim has only given her surface info at this point. Definitely not enough to justify this crusade he’s currently on. Let’s him know Lucy would understand why he lied on the report. She would even commend him for it really. We know she would. She love his soft heart so much. Tim agrees and says she would still get in trouble for knowing and not reporting him to IA.

A risk she would gladly take if you’d let her Timothy… It’s here Angela digs a little deeper. He gets a second stare. Tim finding it aggravating and telling her as such. Angela let's her next truth bomb drop. Saying he’s doing it to protect himself as much as her. That there’s something he’s not admitting. Mic drop. Nailed it and Tim knows it but won’t entertain it further. Has him dead to rights and he knows it. We then get the glorious BFF line. Like it or not she is. lmao Has your number just like your girl.

We return to Angela’s for Tim to break our hearts some more. Theme of this episode. One punch after another. Literally no time to breathe unless you check out during the other SL's. Which I did tbh.... They’re alone so she probes Tim further. Knowing that it has to be so much more than a report. He wouldn't let Ray get under his skin like this if it was that shallow. That he's bearing the weight of something on his soul. Tim gives in and begrudgingly explains what happened. That he had been squad leader most of his tour. That he was looking to move up to Sergeant First Class. Only caveat was he couldn’t have any rampant criminality in his unit.

Ray was in the way of this. Tim decided to keep it within the squad if they caught him themselves. He did an unsanctioned mission… Oh Timothy….He explains how Ray called in an air strike on them. Did this the minute he knew he was trapped. Schmuck would rather take them with him. Such a cowards move. The way Tim describes the air strike. Ugh my heart. His eyes filling up as he depicts how the world imploded around them. Eric is a master of emotion here. So expressive. Looks like he is right back there, with the most haunted look on his face. He thought he was going to die. Being so vulnerable I wanna hug him.

He and Mark were lucky though. The Humvee took the hit for them. But Henderson and Coyle were ripped apart….Ugh and now we see what he’s been bearing. That he led his men to their deaths. Their loyalty and faith in him had cost them their lives. All because Tim was in pursuit of a promotion. For personal glory. Explains why he wouldn't praise himself or take awards pre-Lucy. Or advance his career before her either. He didn’t feel he deserved anything good. Because the last time that was important to him, he got two of his men killed. Imma go cry now.... My poor broken boy. The PTSD is so real.

Eric continues to rip my heart out. Telling Angela there was so much blood. I can't imagine seeing that. They for sure thought Ray was KIA. No way he survived. It’s the way he catches his breath, tears in his eyes in this next part. I'm so upset for him. The way he points at himself when he says leadership. The failure and shame he feels for what he did. When we found out it would be his military background I was excited. I knew it would be dark though. Whatever this was. But my god. I wasn’t expecting it to be this. But makes perfect sense why he’s kept it from Lucy. He can’t bring himself to forgive what he did. How could he expect Lucy to? To still look at him like he’s the same man she fell in love with?

The deep rooted shame is evident in this scene. This is quite the weight to keep on your soul. One I’m sure he’s never told anyone. Not even Isabel about I bet. My guess is he buried it once he was state side. Like most do with trauma. Hoping it would never resurface. Sadly not how trauma goes... The way he tells the story it’s for the first time. You can tell. He’s right back there re-living it all. This scene gives us so much insight to Tim as a person. Why he is the way he is as a cop. As a person. It explains why he lost his damn mind in 2x01 over Lucy falsifying the report. Probably brought him right back there.

This is a very revealing scene. It makes sense why he shoulders things alone. It’s punishment for what he did. Doesn’t think anyone could love him enough to shoulder it with him. That breaks my damn heart. This ep makes me so emotional. *sad sigh* Nothing scarier than the person you love seeing you at your worst. With his background of abuse, it makes sense why he’s hidden this from Lucy. He doesn’t feel worthy of the comfort she would bring him. Only shame that he made a mistake. Tim is very self loathing and this is why. Coupled with his childhood it makes so much sense why he is the way he is…This one is emotionally heavy af. All his unchecked trauma barreling through like a bullet train in this ep.

Lucy arrives home and Tamara is there to take care of her. Saying she ordered pizza. I love this. She needed this. Lucy leaves the room to drop off her stuff. We hear a knock at the door and it’s Ray.... Earlier he scanned Tim’s vehicle and got Lucy’s address. Which made me sick to my stomach. I knew him grabbing it was going to end this way. Best way to get to Tim is through his heart. When Tamara opened the door and it was him..The hairs at the back of my neck stood up. Tamara calls out for Lucy. She emerges and goes into protect mode right away. Eyes on Tamara first but also hating her gun is locked up.

Heart was in my damn throat the entire time. Lucy handles herself like the bad ass we’ve all come to know and love. Commend her for keeping herself composed when she was terrified. I also adore her not putting up with any of his scare tactic BS. Her line about the only call she’s gonna make is for the ambulance. Like hot damn Lucy. Way to protect Tamara and yourself. It's true she could take his scrawny ass easily. I long to be the confident BAMF she is.

Doesn't hurt she’s still got the rage burning from being in the dark. So not only is her life being threatened now Tamara's is. This is Lucy's FINAL straw. It’s now bled over in the worst way. Not only that but she still has no idea what’s going on. We can see that mama bear come out loud and proud. It’s one thing for her to be involved it’s a whole other thing with Tamara dragged in. This is what pushes her to reach out To Tim. To cut his crap. Whatever this is has now endangered an innocent life. One she loves fiercely and will die to protect.

Lucy RAGE calls Tim and unleashes hell. As she should… Demanding to know where his ass is. Tim knowing he can’t hold her back any longer. So he lets her know. I mean Lucy is million percent done with this crap now. With his behavior, him cutting her out, all of it. So very very done. Rightfully so. I do love him answering ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Knowing she wouldn’t be calling unless something was. He for sure would’ve dropped it all to go to her.

But she was way too pissed to see that fact. She shows up like a bat out of hell. Biting his head off immediately saying 'Does she look ok?' No….she does not. Forever love Angela escorting Tamara out of the room. Mom and dad about to have it out so let's go. The concern all over his face kills me though. This was the last thing he wanted to happen. The very thing he was striving for by shutting her out backfired horribly. Not only did he endanger her but Tamara too.

It was Lucy’s final straw and she is showing it. These were the types of fights that are needed though. As much as this hurts she is fighting him to save them. Because he is worth the bother and effort. Just like he stated in 5x08. Asking why her and Chris never fight?They’re fighting against each other to protect one another it kills me. Also you know your ship has chemistry when even their fights are lightning in a bottle goodness. Just as amazing as their happy stuff. I can't speak enough to their fantastic on-screen chemistry. Even though this fight is fiery and hurts to watch it's hurts so good to watch them hash it out.

Tim explains who Ray is and Lucy don’t give a single fuck. It’s not who he is that has her raging. It’s him cutting her out that is. I love the movements Melissa does in this scene. I know she had an interview about her being mad. Thinking she was awkward. It wasn't at all. Was so real. I think she nailed it. Her body language is on point. How she stamps her foot. Shouting how who Ray is doesn’t explain why he iced her out. At all. She is VIBRATING with anger. Yelling at Tim to stop protecting her. Which he won't. That is like asking him to stop breathing tbh. He would rather die than not protect her. Ugh his reply of ‘ I can’t. I won’t.’ They’re at odds with the deepest part of their souls. Of who they are.

Tim will never stop protecting her. Just as she will never stop trying to help him. Been in her DNA from the jump. For him to not let her is just as painful as Tim not protecting her. *sigh* This is where their intense need to protect each other backfires so badly. Sounds romantic and sometimes it is. But in these type of moments, it shows the cracks in their already fractured communication. It real though. Communicating is HARD. Especially when you both come from abusive homes where that wasn't taught. If you aren't taught healthy communication you're just not going to do it. Simple as that. It's like a muscle that never gets used. Then when it does it feels so unnatural and painful.

These two are going to be the death of me. Hell they already have been. They have so much to work on in s7. It’s insane. I'm excited for it though. Lucy then brings up how Lopez was read in but not her. She is HIS PERSON. If anyone should be read in it’s her. Consequences be damned. Yeah Angela does have less to lose but that is NOT the point. Tim is clearly not getting that fact. I adore Lucy grabbing his hands during the end of the scene. Mirroring back she 'Can’t and won’t' not help him. Telling him she is over being to good girlfriend. He’s going to let her in NOW. Oooh lord. You Tell 'em Luce.

Their OP to foil Ray goes off without a hitch. Tim tells him it’s over. That there isn’t an air stroke to save him this time. Ray tells Tim ‘I am the air strike. I’m about to blow up your whole life.’ *grumble* It’s so true on many many levels. Watching Tim be so stoic in his IA investigation kills me. Wish could've fit this in. Eric be out here again making me emotional af two eps in a row. You can see the tears in his eyes but the rest of him is controlled. That military background of his coming in clutch.

it pains me to watch him lie and have it destroy him. I remember I saw people saying how could he lie? That’s not like him. Um no. This is very like Tim. Not to lie but to protect those he loves. If lying protects Lucy and Lopez that’s what he’s going to do. He has a history of being a little gray for those he loves. Isabel is a good example of that. All that went down with Detective Murphy was similar to this. ‘Some things matter more.’ Once again rings true with him. Tim is believed over Ray. Because even if Tim doesn’t want to believe this he is the better man.

Better reputation and Percy closes the investigation. Have missed him. But whoever he’s around it’s not good. Love the actor though. What happens after is rough to say the least. Never seen Grey as disappointed in Tim as he is here. Reprimanding him and having to report him to Pine SUCKS. R.I.P. Metro Tim. I loved you so…It’s killing Tim to have Grey look at him this way. Deeply respects him and to be scolded by him cuts him. Just dismisses Tim without further comment or fight….

God almighty the song playing in the background. I don’t even remember it. I only watched this scene once. I think I blacked out a lot in this moment. The immense shock rocked my system. Suffice to say it’s beautiful. The piano, the haunting oohs and lyrics are the perfect backdrop to this devastating scene. I felt this building anxiety watching this scene. Waiting for the hammer to drop. When she pulled him into her arms *phew* It was first breath I had taken in nearly two episodes. These eps had me on the razor's edge of sanity. I love her waiting outside for him and instantly pulling him into her arms. Just like Tim did for her in 5x22. I'm fine.....Imma cry as I write this. Horse heaven playing in my ears right now. Adding to my emotional state. These two getting me all weepy.

I’ll be honest I thought if a break up was coming, it was coming from Lucy the first time. Which is why this devastated me like it did. Having the full season in hand now. Makes total sense it’s Tim. At the time I thought would be her. But that wouldn’t be like Lucy at all. After everything he put her through. The secrets, the lies and shutting her out. She had every damn right. But she loves this man unconditionally. So unconditionally. Everything Lucy does in this scene is a reflection of that unconditional love. There to pick up his broken pieces despite all of that went down. Look at her in those gifs above.

Especially that second one. First time she took a breath too. So grateful to be here for him in this moment. I truly thought ‘Oh. Maybe we’re ok... She’s hugging him.’ Encasing him in her arms. Trying to absorb all of his hurt. Supporting him the way he sought out days previous. Gently cradling him against her. It's the tender way she nestled her fingers at the back of his head that gets me. Tapping into some ship crack for me there. *phew* Honestly thought with her being there for him they would make it out unscathed. I truly did. The chemistry from this hug is unreal btw. Tim doesn’t feel worthy in the least. The way he slumps against her. Doesn’t really hug her back like normal. Can't see Lucy is so willing to absorb his hurt and pain. To love him through this. This hug is beautifully tragic.

Lucy releases him and he looks as broken as I’ve ever seen him. 4x09 x 1000 tbh. He shirks away from her. Hands in his pocket. So disgusted and ashamed with himself. Something l've learned in Pilates is posture and the importance of it. When you stand tall and at full height. You are confident and sure of yourself. When you are slumped it presents a lack of confidence, shame, and feeling unworthy. His posture is screaming that. Like he feels he shouldn’t even be in her presence right now. He crushes me with how he says he lied about everything.

Then sarcastically almost sardonically follows it up with ‘But hey it saved my job….’ The amount of disdain in his voice is gut wrenching. The whole reason he was in this Ray mess was to further himself. To keep his career intact. He saw a promotion and went for it at all costs. What he just did lying to IA was to be that same man again. (In his mind) To put his career first over what’s right. Risked people's lives again as well. People he loves. Sickens him ten years later he’s doing the same thing all over again. Even though it's so different this time. There is still nobility in it with saving Lucy and Lopez. But this man can't see that right now. Doesn't see any good in this situation or himself.

Lucy does her best to sympathize. Telling him it was an impossible situation. If it had been her she would’ve done the same thing. Thing is if it had been for Tim yes she would’ve without question. But he can’t see the forest for the trees atm. He is drowning absolutely drowning in his self-loathing. Tim continues on with the painful self flogging. Telling her she would’ve never been in his position. Putting her on a pedestal while he makes himself very very small. That OTP line from 6x03 from him 'You could never disappoint me.' That is true. The problem is he doesn't realize he could never disappoint her either. Tragically Tim doesn't view it that way. Only sees he's not worthy.

Lucy once again tries to pick up his pieces. Telling him he thought he could handle it. He was wrong but made it right. It’s like she can sense him pulling away in this moment. Doing her best to calm his fears about himself. Trying to do what she’s always done in years past best. Build him up. Soothe him. Sadly she isn’t gaining an inch of ground with him. He is stuck in how he feels and there is no budging him. Tim is morose saying he wishes it was that easy….We can see the incredible amount hurt on his face. Telling her he just lied to two men he deeply respects. He is coming undone rapidly and Lucy can see it. I adore her putting her hands on him. Trying to right his ship.

Ground him to her in this moment. Because once again it's something she’s done so well in the past. Tim is spiraling so hard he can’t see her gesture for what it is. Tells her he just betrayed everything he thought was right about himself. *heart clutch* Lucy can’t stand him talking down about himself. Tries to interrupt but Tim won’t allow it. Lucy graciously nods and lets him get it out. Especially when he tells her how hard this is for him. She is so wonderfully understanding it makes my heart ache. Tim feels like he is a bad guy. Thought he had gotten past this and was sucked back in so easily. Truly believed he had become a better person since then. (He has) Ray was right he was gonna blow up his entire life.

He just exposed Tim for the fraud he already felt he was. Bringing his greatest sin to light. Bringing up feelings of not being deserving. Of inadequacy. His abuse background pulling into the station and not leaving. Tim is back to a place of massive self loathing. Saying he has been lying to himself for years. Thinking he’s gotten better when he hasn’t. To him he reverted back to the man he thought he left behind. Not only that he put his person. The woman he loves at risk to cover up his past. To cover up his shame. It’s hitting him like a freight train of terrible realization. Continuing on to say he can’t go back to the way it was. I was hopeful when he said ‘Right now.’ Then followed it up with maybe never….

Lucy had been nodding along. Being so wonderfully empathetic and understanding. She was with him till he said that. Then she is hit with her own terrible realization. He’s leaving her. She is losing him. In the same parking lot where he told her to take a risk. Where she expressed her concern over losing him if they did. Worried about losing the most important relationship in her life due that risk. The same spot where he told her 'Unless it is.' A giant stab to our collective shipper hearts.

It's why Lucy is in a state of utter shock. As we all were tbh. She shakily asks him if he’s breaking up with her? When he said I’m sorry. I remember having to pause. Freak out and cry. I recall chanting ‘No no no….’ To myself repeatedly. My dog was very alarmed. Because I was distraught af. I couldn't believe this was really happening. My happy place was being decimated before my eyes.

Look at the range of emotions on Tim's face before he delivers that line though. Eric you why you doing this to me? They blow this scene out the damn water. it's so visceral. and raw. He looks like he's about to have a breakdown before he delivers that line. Battling with himself about it. There's a desperate need to want to stay with her. But his self doubt and hatred wins out knowing he isn't deserving. Do I think he came out thinking he was going to do this? A little. I think the more he spoke about it and himself the decision was made. He wasn't going to be be talked off this ledge.

The way Lucy replies after this rips my heart out. This break up feels like death by a thousand paper cuts. Months later and this hurts just as much as the first time. Lucy doesn't hold back in the least. Telling Tim he doesn't get to do that. Her line about using it as an excuse is so spot on. This Ray situation has hit VERY close to home for Tim. An insanely sensitive subject for him. It's rubbed against a wound that never really healed properly. Just was buried in the back of his mind.

He doesn’t have the capacity or emotional maturity to handle it. So he ejects out as a coping mechanism. Lucy calls his ass right away for it. It’s so painful to her that he is doing this excuse. Because it feels like a crappy cheat to them. To her. It's truly a cop out and our girl deserves better than this. Especially after all they’ve been through together. All that rapport and trust they’ve built over the years. It’s an insult to who they are as a couple and the relationship they’ve developed. Sadly that all vanishes in this moment. It’s stunning Lucy and straight murdering my feels.

Her ‘That's not okay.’ is a dagger to my shipper heart. The way she continues to repeat herself cause she's in shock. Ugh.This goes down as one of the most painful breakups I've had to go through. Lucy is so upset he is going this route. Melissa had a great interview (quite a few actually.) About the lie line and using it as an excuse for Tim. She noted Lucy is upset cause how he’s acting isn’t them. That they get to have these conversations. Not only have them but recover and grow from them. It’s what she expecting from him in this moment. It's what she expected from his 5x08 Mantra going into this relationship.

She is telling him I’ve got your back. I’ve got you. What are you doing? What happened to ‘Unless it is?’ Lucy continues to vehemently disagree with him. As she should. The worst part is Tim says ‘I know.’ Like he knows what he’s doing is wrong. Knows to eject after everything isn’t ok. Yet he can’t stop himself. He is not emotionally mature enough to handle this conversation properly. Also too blinded by his own self-hatred to see the unconditional love she is showing for him in this moment. God this is painful.

Tim then comes in with the breakup line of ‘You’re an incredible person.' Lucy can’t believe this shit . She really can’t. That Tim is is doing this to her. To them. Even though Tim is being genuine with his statement. You can hear it in his voice. Doesn't do anything to soothe the wounds he's causing. Once again Melissa crushing it with the upset body language. The mannerisms are so on point. Maybe it's because I'm Italian and I use my hands when I'm upset. I do exactly what she's doing. Why I appreciate it so much. It's so real.

It's a cop out what he is doing. 'It’s not you it’s me' schtick. We see the anger building in Lucy. She can't even look at him in the second gif. For him to toss away what they have is painful enough. To do it based off a cliched excuse is destroying Lucy. Thinking what they had was worth so much more than this. Thought they worth the nasty fights. No way she knows fully what happened or she would figure out why he's really doing this. That’s what makes the rest of Lucy's replies so god damn tragic. She is trying to hold onto him for dear life. But is only being pushed away in return...

Tim continues to push forward with this breakup. Letting her know she deserves better than him. It's SO much deeper than that but it's the only way he can convey it right now. Her ‘Oh my god…’ This is her worst nightmare. Her biggest fear come to life. This is why she hesitated starting this relationship. Why she was so afraid of risking her most important relationship. It's unfolding before her eyes and she can’t stop it.

Like a bad dream she can't seem to wake up from. We all wish we could...Tim has never felt worthy of Lucy’s love, light or praise. This reaction just proves that. It's been building for a long time and this is the final result of it. It’s not logical but a trauma brain rarely is. The amount of emotional and physical abuses he endured growing up left it's mark. Has him truly convinced Lucy could never love him knowing what he did. Tim feels he does not deserve her comfort, support or love.

Punishing himself and denying what he need most because he feels unworthy. Thinks he has made a mistake so grave there is no coming back for him. No way she could love him if she knew. So he like Angela stated earlier Tim is protecting himself. Pains me to watch. Now as I've said before it's not to excuse but to explain his side of it. I understand why he's doing it even if it's fucked up.

He doesn't give Lucy much more than she deserves better. Tells her it's why he's walking away. This man feels so undeserving of the love she has to give. In his mind he thinks he’s doing her a kindness. To separate herself from such a shameful and broken man. That she could do better than him. To Tim he made the biggest sin and can’t live with himself about it. He can't envision a world where Lucy would love him through it. The tragedy is she already was in this scene.

Lucy isn’t hearing any of it. Full on panic spiral that I shared in this moment. Her ‘Don’t do this. Why are you doing this?’ Is the most soul crushing part. She can feel him slipping through her hands. Like sand rushing through her fingertips. She can’t hold onto a grain of him. Can only stand there as he gives up on them. His face in the third gif...Knife to my soul. *screams into a pillow* It's killing him to walk away from her. Eric and his expressive eyes has me bawling. The quiver in his bottom lip as well. Gah it hurts to watch them both in so much pain. It’s the way she pulls away with one hand, but is clutching his other hand for dear life, that really gets me in that last gif.

Asking him once again why are you doing this? I shared that sentiment in this moment.. Tim stands firm in his decision to end them and rip all of our hearts out. Eric had a great quote about how Tim handed this whole thing. ‘He is impulsive and he reacts instead of thinking things through. And it can come out as a bit too strong.’ He feels he is a burden Lucy therefore he is removing himself. Not thinking about the damage it’s going to do to her. The immense regret he’s going to feel when he regulates a bit more.

Something therapy has taught me is we are ruled by our nervous system. Anxiety, stress, fear etc Tim’s was haywire in this moment. All of them going off at once. Not thinking clearly. Acting out of fight or flight. He took the flight option unfortunately. The tragic way he grabs her head and gives her the saddest head kiss. Shattering all of our hearts in the process. It’s the devastated look on his face when he strokes her hair and takes off. One final gut punch from him. It's like he’s leaving behind his greatest treasure and can’t bear to be around it any longer. Lucy is clutching to him until he departs. *snifffle*

The man actually thinks she is better off without him. Truly believes that. Even if Lucy had succeeded it keeping Tim, this would've reared it’s ugly head again down the road. This breakup ruined my friggin life. I kid you not. They were my happy place. My consistent happy place. And now that was gone. It affected my mental health a little too not gonna lie. I think I was in mourning for three weeks. Honestly I still am. Low key will be till they're fixed. Those three weeks were unbearable. But also needed. Thank you again to my bestie D for being my mourning partner through out that. Kept me sane.

That being said I think this will push them in the best direction. A healthier and stronger one. I truly believe that. I recently broke up with a friend who I had been friends with for ten years. It was very hard on me but time. Boundaries were being pushed and it wasn't healthy anymore. My therapist pointed me to a wonderful book called ‘Goodbyes and good boundaries. ’ While It helped heal my heart it also has really good pieces in it. Stuff made me think of this very ep tbh. Sure that wasn't her goal LOL But my brain is always in a Chenford state of mind in some way or another.

First one that made me think of them. ‘Health cannot bond to unhealth.’ As much as it wasn’t fair for Lucy. And god it wasn’t after everything else this season. Tim was in such a radioactive state staying with her wouldn’t have worked anyway. He was radiating turmoil. Lucy can do a lot for him but not this. He NEEDED therapy so much. There are things you learn in there that only your therapist can help you with. He was unhealth and Lucy was trying to keep her empathetic healthy self to him. It was never going to work. Not unless Tim put in some work. Which he couldn't at this point in time.

“Relationship often die not because of conversations never had but rather conversations needed but never had.” Another good one made me think of them. Tim was not ready in the least for the adult conversation required of him in this moment. Or their entire relationship really. They both danced around the issues a lot. 6x02 closest we got. Even then it was one sided. Thus them dying in this moment. Despite Lucy’s damndest to keep them afloat. Remind him of what they’re fighting for. Of why they started this. This breakup was painful af. Despite how this wrecked my world it’s going to be good for them in the long run.

I will say Lucy in that last gif was all of us in that moment. It was a soul crushing moment that decimated this fandom. Still blows my mind Melissa and Eric were surprised just how insanely devastated we were. Why they did those lovely posts during the three weeks. To thank us and to hold on. Growth is coming. They’re going to be even better after this. Doesn’t mean this didn’t hurt like a SOB and won’t long after they reunite. Curse you Eric and Melissa. You are incredible to evoke such emotions out of us all.

Thank you for going through this with me again. It wasn’t easy but they always worth it. Appreciate any and all comments, likes or reblogs I get. I shall see you all in 6x07 :)

Side notes non chenford

Balian doing the creepy bed thing again. Just have to note that.

Also can’t believe they didn’t end the ep with their breakup. There is a whole minute or so of I don’t give a shit after that scene. I was so distraught they could’ve had Nolan walk into a wall and I wouldn't have noticed.