#there is a very big difference between those two words and what they involve

[johnnycagesrightnut]

Mason James Walten spins a web and gets Miguel caught in it after he nearly KILLS MILES and Mason’s taken off his Spider-Man suit he’s not Spider-Man now he’s Mason James and it’s like that scene from that Batman video game and Miguel’s like ‘you ain’t gonna kill me, you ain’t gonna kill me!’ And Mason’s like ‘Do I look like Spider-Man to you?’ Because it’s established amongst his lore there’s a big difference between Spider-Man and Mason James Walten. Spider-Man isn’t a thief. Spider-Man isn’t technically a cannibal. Spider-Man is not a killer. Spider-Man is a hero, Mason James Walten is on the blurred line of hero and anti-hero.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Is there difference between "having a fetish" for a trait and "fetishizing" people who have it? I've seen some posts on here talking about the fetishization of certain demographics like its something people are morally bad for doing, but I've also seen things saying that people can't control their kinks/fetishes. Is this a case of "two words that look alike but mean different things"?

okay so I'm gonna use myself as an extremely specific example here because I don't want to throw any identities that I don't hold under the bus

let's say you're really, really into short white bitches with curly hair and big noses, okay? like, to the point that you cannot get off if a short white bitch with the big nose and the hair isn't involved. sex simply will not be satisfying without such a partner.

generally speaking, this is understood to be what differentiates a fetish from a kink. a kink is a fun little thing that falls outside the sexual norm, which you may be able to take or leave. maybe it's cool to do, but your sexual enjoyment isn't predicated on it being a part of your sexual encounters. a fetish is, basically, not optional. (there's a bit more about this in my sex ed FAQ.)

and this is fine, right? having one thing that you're really, REALLY into is fine.

now, let's talk about fetishizing. for many people with fetishes, the thing that turns them on will be exciting and, yes, perhaps even arousing even when they encounter it in nonsexual contexts. that could be rope, latex, balloons, you name it. it could also be people, either certain body parts or certain traits. so where we run into a potential conundrum is how you are treating those people.

let's revisit that short white bitch curly hair big nose fetish. when you see women who look like that, you might feel aroused. and that, by itself, if fine. but are you able to interact with these women in a way that doesn't center your fetish? if I post some selfies, for instance, are you going to feel the need to leave an unsolicited sexual comment? if we meet in real life, are you going to speak to me respectfully and reasonably without resorting to sexual harassment? do you recognize short white bitches with curly hair and big noses as individuals with different personalities, opinions, and needs, or are we all interchangeable? in short: do you see us as being as fully human as people who don't activate your fetish?

thought crimes aren't real, but how you treat people very much is.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

I Don't Understand You

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader Summary: Although your lives are very different, you and Tyler have been happily together for years. However, when a new girl arrives, Tyler can't seem to focus on anything else. This Kate seems to understand him in a way you never could and you start to wonder if loving someone really means letting them go... Word Count: 4386 TW: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Breakup, Makeup, Tears Notes: Huge thanks to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for beta reading this for me and to the anon who made this request 💕 SPOILERS FOR TWISTERS

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

You noticed the change in him the moment they met.

Usually, you weren’t involved in Tyler’s chases but for some reason that day, you decided to meet the crew at a diner for lunch between storms. You had to fight your way through the crowd of adoring fans hovering around his truck before being able to greet him with a big kiss and warm embrace. As always, he kissed you back before slinging his arm over your shoulder. But as the two of you began walking towards the diner door, chatting about what he had gotten up to that morning, he trailed off, his attention now fully on the crew huddled around the Strom Par trucks. 

You didn’t know any of those guys by name but had been around enough to recognize their faces—all but one. There was a new girl with them who was studying a tablet and glancing up at the darkening sky. She was pretty, but you didn’t see anything particularly notable about her. You turned to ask Tyler who she was, but before you could, he strolled off in that direction without a word leaving you standing with your hand on the door to the diner unsure what you were supposed to do.

Part of you thought you should go inside and order both of you lunch so it would be waiting when he came back, but there was something in Tyler’s posture as he stood next to this girl that was setting off alarm bells in your head. They were across the parking lot with their backs mostly to you so you couldn’t make out anything they were saying, but after knowing Tyler for six years and dating him for four, you had gotten rather good at reading his body language. And right now, the pronounced jut of his hips, the upturned tilt of his head, and that certain smile you could just get a glimpse of when he turned the right way all told you the same thing. He liked this girl—a lot.

You watched them for another moment or two until Lily, Dani, and Boone came barrelling out of the diner, almost knocking you over. By the time you all untangled yourselves and you looked back over to where Tyler and the girl had been standing, she was walking back towards the Storm Par team. But Tyler…Tyler’s eyes were locked on her. He nodded slightly as an impressed grin spread across half of his face. He stared after her for another beat before the grin dropped and he straightened, his eyes scanning the lot until he saw you standing by the diner, looking back at him. Quickly slipping his sunglasses back on his face, he jogged to your side. 

Just before he reached you, he shot one quick look over his shoulder at the Storm Par team. Whatever the girl had said to them had caused them to pack up all their equipment and climb into their vehicles. Tyler jerked his head at Lily, Dani, and Boone who were still standing near you, then he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to do lunch, but we gotta go. Storm’s moving in faster than we thought and it looks like it's gonna be a good one.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Just meet you back at the motel tonight? Dex was gonna grill up some steaks for everyone.”

“Yeah,” you said, not looking at his face. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Hey.” He used his finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. “Everything alright?”

You sighed, staring into his sunglasses. “Yes, Tyler. Just go before you miss your window. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay…tonight.” He squeezed your arms one last time and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before heading to where his crew was already packing up.

When he was about halfway across the parking lot, the group of Storm Par vehicles pulled out in front of him. As the truck the girl was in passed by, you saw that same smile return to his face and you turned away, a queasy feeling building in your stomach.

That night at the motel, all Tyler could talk about was this girl—Kate—and how she had perfectly predicted the storm. Everyone else out there had assumed the system forming to the east was the one to chase, yet Tyler and Kate had been the only ones to correctly identify that the cap wouldn’t break and the one to the west was the better option. 

The sick feeling deep in your stomach that had been growing since Tyler began talking about her only got worse when Kate walked by the Wranglers on the way to her room. Tyler introduced the two of you—she was polite but seemed surprised when Tyler referred to you as his girlfriend. You just nodded back before taking a long drag on your beer. Seeing the way Tyler had looked at her was bad enough, but hearing him tease her and listening to him call her by a little nickname all while that spark burned in his eyes was a thousand times worse. And on top of it all, you could see past his bravado—he genuinely respected this girl and thought she was special. It was too much to take and, shortly after she left, you excused yourself and went to your room. When Tyler came up an hour or two later, you pretended to be asleep so you wouldn’t have to talk.

Originally, you had planned on heading back to your shared apartment in the morning, but as uncomfortable as you were feeling about the situation, you didn’t feel like leaving Tyler alone with Kate. You felt terrible even thinking like that because you knew Tyler loved you and would never do anything to hurt you, but you couldn’t forget the way he looked at her. So, you rode out with Dani and Dexter on that day’s chase and jumped in to help when the crew arrived in what was left of Crystal Springs after the storm went through.

While the rest of the crew began handing out food and water to those who had just lost everything, a woman came over to where you, Tyler, and Boone were sorting through some rubble. She was dirty and crying, tears leaving muddy streaks down her face as she explained that they couldn’t find their family dog and, as her kids had already lost so much, was there any way you could help her find him. You were all more than willing to help and immediately began looking for the little guy. 

After a while, you began drifting away from where Tyler and Boone were looking. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Storm Par trucks pull up but you tried to ignore them. Scott and Javi were probably just here to try to talk these poor people into selling what little they had left to that slimeball Riggs for a fraction of what it was worth. How could Tyler seriously be drawn to this new girl if she was helping Storm Par do this to people? It went against everything Tyler stood for. This thought stuck in your head and you began to wonder if maybe you had let your insecurities get the best of you and had blown this whole Kate situation out of proportion.

Suddenly, you heard a small whimper off to your left. Slowly and carefully, you shifted a few pieces of concrete and wood until you saw a tiny pair of eyes staring back at you from the shadows. Bending down, you called out to him, and the cutest little tan-and-white terrier poked his head out with a small bark. After sniffing in your direction for a moment, he slunk forward until he was right in front of you and you slowly reached out. When he didn’t retreat, you placed your hand gently on his head and stroked his fur. He was trembling and wet but otherwise seemed unharmed.

“Hey there, buddy! I'm so glad we found you all safe and sound.” You gathered the small dog into your arms. Rubbing under his chin and giving him a reassuring coo, you turned around and called out, “Ty! Look who I fou—”

The smile faded from your face as you spotted Kate speaking with Tyler and Boone. Even being this far away, even with Tyler getting heated about whatever they were talking about, even as Tyler turned to storm away, you could see that you hadn’t been jumping to conclusions after all. You could practically see the tension crackling in the air between them and it was the final straw. As much as every fiber of your being was screaming at you not to, you knew what you needed to do.

Walking over to where the guys were still searching, you placed the dog into Boone’s arms before grabbing Tyler’s hand and leading him away from everyone else. “We need to talk.”

“Uh oh. Am I in trouble?” he asked, chuckling slightly. But the moment you pulled him behind the rubble of one of the houses and faced him, his smile evaporated. Squeezing your hand tighter, he asked, “Wait. Is something actually wrong?”

Letting go of his hand, you took a few steps away from him as you slowly exhaled. Then you asked, “Tell me one thing about what I do at my job. Not my title, but what I do.”

Tyler stared at you as if you had just grown another head. “Sweetheart, what is this—”

“Just answer the question.”

He ran his hand through his hair as he pondered the question. “You’re in finance and you work…with money…”

“Doing what with money?”

“....I don’t know.”

“I know you don’t and we’ve always joked about it and I thought it was okay. After all, I don’t really get what you do either—I never have. I mean, I know what you literally do, but how you feel about it or why you get such joy from it?” You shake your head, staring at the ground. “I’ve tried to be as supportive as I could be the last four years and let you go out there without saying a word, despite how dangerous it is, but I still don’t get it…She does.”

“She who?”

“Kate.”

“Wait a minute–” Tyler held up his hands and took a step closer to you but you cut him off.

“Tyler, you’ve been different ever since she showed up. She’s all you talk about and you’ve been going out of your way to impress her or show her how much better you are than Storm Par.”

“You know I get a little competitive especially when it comes to those assholes. They look down on my crew because they don’t have degrees or schooling or whatever and I sometimes get lost in trying to show them we are just as good as they are without all that stuff. So maybe I was going a little overboard trying to show Kate that before Storm Par turned her against us. But you know it’s all just big talk.”

“I know and I’ve tried to tell myself that. But it’s not just what you say to her, it’s how you are whenever she’s around. You stand differently, smile differently. You…you…” You blinked several times as you tried to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“I what?”

Taking another deep breath, you said, “Ty…the way you look at her is how you used to look at me.”

That shut him up. Whatever argument he was forming in his head was no longer valid and he knew it. 

Placing your hand over his heart, you said as your voice trembled slightly, “Admit it. We’ve been off for a while now. It sort of feels like we’ve just been going through the motions. We used to talk about the future: a house, marriage, a dog, maybe kids. But I can’t even remember the last time either of us mentioned anything like that.” Your eyes dropped to the ground, unable to look into his eyes as you said this next part. “Maybe…maybe we just need to take some time apart. Maybe there’s something better out there for both of us and we’re just holding each other back.”

Tyler placed his hand over where yours still rested on his chest. “There’s no one better than you.”

“Are you sure you still feel that way?” Tyler started to respond but you added, “Even after meeting Kate?”

He hesitated and that was all you needed to hear. 

Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you found the strength to look up at him as you said, “I love you. But I don’t understand you—not the way she does. And I honestly don’t think I ever will. So you need to explore this and see if there’s something there that I couldn’t give you.” You laughed, tears streaming down your cheeks. “And who knows? Maybe while you and Kate are getting your happily ever after, I’ll meet someone who understands what I do at work with money.”

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into your touch as he whispered, “I don’t want you to go.”

“And I don’t want to go. But I have to. For both of us.” Pulling his face down towards yours, you lightly kissed his lips. Then, after pulling back, you rested your forehead against his. “Please…really give this a try. All I want for you is to be happy. Whether that’s with me, Kate, or someone else. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find our way back to each other one day. But until then, if you feel it…” 

Your hands slipped from where they rested on him as you pivoted quickly and rushed away. You wanted him to come after you. To come running up behind you, sweep you into his arms, and say he was chasing what he felt and that this had all been a mistake. But he didn’t. 

Finding a police officer climbing into his car, you asked for a lift back to the motel where you had left your car. As you were climbing in, you glanced back at where you had left Tyler. But he wasn’t staring back. Instead, his attention was fully on one of the Storm Par trucks that was pulling out and you just managed to catch a glimpse of the driver’s blonde ponytail. 

What was left of your heart shattered.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. You tried to carry on with your normal schedule and stay busy to keep your mind off of everything, but it was nearly impossible, especially considering you were still living in the apartment you shared with Tyler when it wasn’t storm season. His presence lingered in every inch of the space and you wondered how long you should wait before trying to find a new place to stay. He would still be gone for another month or so but living here knowing he was nothing more than a roommate at this point nearly brought you to tears every time you thought about it. 

But even worse were the constant scenarios that played through your head about what he and Kate were doing at any given moment. You had told him to explore things with her and really see if there was a connection there, yet now thinking about him acting on anything made that queasy feeling in your stomach return worse than ever. One time you actually did get sick when you imagined Tyler showing up at the apartment asking you to leave so Kate could move it. You knew he would never be that cruel, but it didn’t stop your brain from asking what if.

Sometimes you wondered if you made a mistake. You had brought up your job and the fact Tyler didn’t know what you did as a reason he didn’t understand you, but that wasn’t the real issue (and to be fair, your job was pretty nuanced and even your parents could never remember exactly what you did). Deep down you had known for a while things were stalling out between the two of you. The love was still there but you had fallen into a rut, just going through the same routines without really putting much thought or effort into anything. Maybe Kate’s arrival was just the wake-up call you needed to face the truth. But maybe instead of pushing Tyler into another woman’s arms, you should have used this realization as fuel to work on getting the two of you back to where you were when you first started dating. 

Maybe you just threw away the love of your life because you hadn’t tried putting the work into the relationship…

A few days after leaving Oklahoma, you were cleaning the kitchen after making dinner when you heard a frantic pounding on your door. Someone from work had mentioned possibly dropping off some paperwork later, but this sounded much too urgent a knock to be them.

Walking over to the door, you pressed against it and called, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Your heart froze in your chest. It was still the middle of storm season. You hadn’t prepared yourself to face Tyler until then at least. Could he really be here to ask you to move out after all?

Cracking the door slightly to peer out, you gasped and let it swing open the rest of the way as you saw him leaning heavily on the door frame. His jeans and favorite dark burgundy shirt were filthy and ripped in several places. It looked like he had what was once mud—now dried, cracked, and flaking off—caked into his hair, skin, and clothes. But it was the way he was favoring his left leg, keeping as much weight off of it as possible, that really caught your attention. 

“What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?” You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, helping him hobble into the apartment.  

You tried to get him to sit on the couch, but he waved you off, opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. Thinking he might want something to drink, you started to walk towards the fridge, however he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms. He reeked of sweat, oil, and smoke, and you tried to squirm out of his grasp but he stopped you, running his hand down the side of your face. 

Trying to stay strong and not to melt into his embrace, you whispered, “What are you doing?”

But he just pulled you closer, his green eyes shining with something you recognized but hadn’t seen in a long time. “It’s you. It was always you and will always be you. And I should have known that from the beginning.”

Sighing, you pushed against his chest again. “Ty, I said we needed to take a step back and explore other relationships.”

“I did.”

Even though that was what you were telling him to do, it stung to hear but you pushed past it. “It’s been less than a week. That doesn’t count.”

“It could have been a year and it wouldn’t make a difference. Yeah, Kate and I share something because of our connections with the storms, and I had never met someone else who looks at them like I do so I was intrigued by her. But she’s not what I want and I’m sorry if I made you think she was. But I know now without a doubt what I want and that’s you.”

The certainty in his voice made you weak in the knees but you couldn’t understand what could have changed so completely in such a short amount of time. Studying his face, you asked, “What happened out there?”

“I just walked away from an EF5, even though I shouldn’t have. We were trying to help get people somewhere safe to hide before the storm hit when my leg got pinned under some debris—” you gasped “—I’m fine, I promise. Kate and Javi got me out and it’s just a little sore now. But then Kate took my truck and went out into the storm alone leaving Javi and me to help the rest of the crew keep everyone safe. The only place we could go was the movie theater and it wasn’t made to be a shelter. It started to come apart in minutes and people were getting sucked out. Then Lily lost her grip—”

“No! Tyler–”

“I was able to grab her but it was like playing tug of war with Mother Nature. I was holding onto her with both hands and the only thing keeping both of us from flying away was the toe of my boot wrapped around the leg of one of the theater seats. That moment was the first time in a really long time that I thought this might be it. That I wasn’t making it out of this storm alive. But just when it seemed like I couldn’t hold on any longer, I thought about you—and only you. I thought about the way you smile and boop my nose with whipped cream every single time we split a piece of pie. I thought about your absolutely horrible attempt at singing while you take a shower. I thought about that little sound you make when you’re sleeping curled against me. But most of all, I thought about the way we left things and I refused to let that be the last conversation we ever had. So, I held on until Kate was able to break up the storm.”

You had been falling in love with Tyler all over again at his confession, but that last sentence threw you for a loop. “Wait, she did what?”

He shook his head. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. But the point is, I came straight here as soon as I made sure everyone was okay because I had to fix things between us. And because I needed to do what I should have done a long time ago.”

Letting you go, Tyler reached into his pocket as—wincing—he lowered himself onto his injured leg. Your eyes grew wide as you realized what he was about to do. However, before he could pull his hand out of his pocket, you dropped down beside him, placing your hands on his to stop him.

“Ty, are you sure?” you asked, voice trembling. “I don’t want you to do this because you almost died or you think you have to—”

Tyler smiled, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “No. Baby, I’ve realized that when you love something, you’ll spend your whole life trying to understand it. So while we might not understand everything about each other right now, I’d like to spend the rest of my life by your side trying to figure it out. Because I love you more than anything else in the world and would be honored if you’d let me spend every day proving that to you—” he moved your hands aside and pulled out a box from his pocket “—as my wife.”

He popped open the lid and you gasped. The diamond ring inside was as gorgeous as it was huge. You had seen smaller rings on A-list celebrities and knew there was no way in hell either you or Tyler could afford something like this, even if you combined your savings.

Mouth still gaping, you choked out, “Where the hell did you get that?”

Tyler smiled. “There was a jewelry shop down the street from the theater that was still standing. When I went by, the owner was out front inspecting the damage. Turns out, I had helped his wife and kids get to safety so he opened up the store and gave me a pretty good deal on it.” 

“Still, you didn’t need to do this.” You reached up and brushed his hair off his face where it had been plastered down by sweat and dirt. “You know all I’ve ever wanted was you. You could have given me a rubber band and I still would have been the happiest girl in the world.”

“Should I take it back then?” He started to close the ring box, but you stopped him.

“Well, don’t be so hasty! I mean, since you already have it…”

“Does this mean you’re saying yes?” There was just the slightest edge of fear in his voice as if he honestly thought you might have a different answer. 

But you nodded, holding out your hand. “Yes. As long as you are absolutely sure this is what you want, then of course I’m saying yes.”

Tyler’s smile doubled in size as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Even noting how big it was, the weight of it momentarily surprised you. The diamonds sparkled and shined in the lights of the kitchen and you wondered if you would ever get tired of staring at it. 

Once it was securely in place, Tyler wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into his lips. The kiss had a fire and desire to it you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years, and you silently vowed to never let your passion for each other smolder again. 

As the heat of the kiss began to burn even brighter, you felt Tyler’s fingers fiddling with the buttons of your blouse. With a soft moan, you turned your head, breaking the kiss but leaving your face pressed against his. “Ty, please don’t be offended by this, but do you think before we go any further, we could move this celebration to the shower? You smell really bad.”

He chuckled, his hands still skimming over the front of your blouse. “I’ll go wherever you want me to, as long as we are together.” 

You smiled back and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Forever.” 

Then you helped ease him off the floor before leading him into the bathroom, both of your shirts and pants already on the floor before you reached it. 

Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole, @ryebecca, @heart-0n-fire, @nerdysuperchick, @ohtobeleah, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @sunlightmurdock, @xoxabs88xox, @superchatnoir07

[cokou]

𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 OCT 1: ARRANGED MARRIAGE # Roronoa Zoro┆Fem! Reader

Request ✉* Hi, if you’re open can I request Zoro for Oct.1 Rough sex? And female reader?If not that’s ok, I just wanted to say I love your writing and I love the work u put into making your posts aesthetic <3 Make sure to take care of urself :)

Warnings ✉* Rough sex, arranged marriage, Shit writing

WC ✉* 978 words┆5,304 characters

It only had been a week— a week of meeting this man, who you were fended off to by your 'parents'. A week of getting to know each other forcefully. A week of you trying your best to just disappear and end this suffering put between the two of you. A week of him convincing himself that not even a single attention should be provided for you, he really tried his best.

He grits his teeth to your agreeing words, which makes it much more heavier to swallow such a thick throwback from you.

"I'm not giving you a single attention just because we're married."

"I never said you should."

And yet, after all those hardships that you had put to end this, only for you to end up on his bed as he ravishes you into the thin, silky bedsheet inside his room. His bed would most likely give out soon as it squeeks everytime his hard thrusts comes along your skin once again.

With his hips starting to stutter from the rough pressure and friction to please you, he held you in place in order to keep up. Your hips buckle for more into him, forcibly making him go deeper inside your cervix. His tip remarkably bullying your cervix enough for it to end up bruising by tomorrow morning.

It's hard, he makes it soo hard to take him. Zoro full well knows that he himself is big, Zoro is a monster when it comes down from there and he knows it. It's hard, specially when his thrusts are rough yet slow ones. Yet, you take him like you were granted to him from a genie itself, that is what makes it exciting for him.

Your hole was typically stretched as big as it could to fit Zoro, it hurted a few minutes ago and was instantly replaced with pleasure. Not only that, but your core was incredibly squeezing him so hard that it makes it hard for him to just pull out. It felt so good to him, the way you clench over his thick shaft, the way you murmur sweet moans that gradually get louder and louder as time passes.

Zoro— was most definitely holding himself from going to hard on you, why? It was your first time, and he wants to savour his favorite positions for future sessions with you as he knows this won't be the last one, so that way he'd suprise you with lot's more and not the same over and over again.

You dont mind, you never will. Zoro was so lawge that you wouldn't remarably fit him immediately, which involves lot's of lubricant. It will never be the same, for you everything does have differences. Just like his pace right now compared to the first one, rough and agonizingly slow. Other than that, he was savoring the moment of your sloppy hole.

Zoro removes his bandana, wiping his forehead using it and ties it around your arm, it was soaked in his sweat and it almost felt disgusting. He runs his calloused hands over your arms towards your shoulder, simply to tease you. His rough hands were dragging along your skin, making you shiver in suprise.

Was this romanticism? He asks himself; but why? No, romance was never his forte, no it was never something he wanted to experience. But, here he was on top of you, savoring each thrust he gave you. Here he was, admiring you soft, delicate moans that echoes through his ears.

Fuck romanticism, his mind swirled around the thoughts of what was happening now— nothing was important, nothing other than projecting his hips movements, nothing other than making you cum.

His thoughts swirled more, and more. It makes him go rougher at the session. The skin slapping, your ass was very much sore from all the collision of your skins. Your moans get louder each rough thrusts he provides, this was either heaven or hell.

You held onto his shoulder as he goes faster, your eyes almost going white and you felt like you were gonna explode your climax all over him soon.

"I hope i could keep you like this forever, a hole to forever abuse." Zoro smirks on his comment,

The deep feeling deep inside his loin is heating up, he feels the spring that will almost immediately burst. He continues pounding you like a dog in heat, his hips now stuttering even more. Your nails dug on his back, leaving crescent moon shapes behind him. Your moans are heard by the whole room, possibly until outside of the room and 2 more neighboring ones.

His thrust was demonic to forever start with, the sound of his repeated thrusting and followed by the sloppiness that was developed between the both of you were starting to louden itself. Zoro was finally groaning and huffing, whilst your moans only louden at the sensation.

Zoro fastens his pace, making your eyes roll back at the back of your skull. The coil deep inside him about to snap, he takes his index and middle finger and shove them up your mouth. You swirl your tongue on his fingers and suck them as he'd like.

"Shit— take my fucking cum┅" With no more words, Zoro spills inside you with a loud thrust, making you yelp loudly, almost lolling your tongue out in ecstacy. He takes your legs and positions your knees above your head,making his cum reach deeper parts within you yourself couldn't reach. You release a loud moan along with some pants as you take your climax on his cock aswell. Gosh, it felt so good.

Zoro and You are now a panting, sweaty, and sticky mess. He plops down to the bed beside you and catches his breath, his cum slowly dripping out of your pussy.

"Physical attention doesn't seem bad."

"I know "

General M.List┆Hentober 24 M.List

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

I Don't Understand You

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader Summary: Although your lives are very different, you and Tyler have been happily together for years. However, when a new girl arrives, Tyler can't seem to focus on anything else. This Kate seems to understand him in a way you never could and you start to wonder if loving someone really means letting them go... Word Count: 4386 TW: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Breakup, Makeup, Tears Notes: Huge thanks to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for beta reading this for me💕 SPOILERS FOR TWISTERS

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

You noticed the change in him the moment they met.

Usually, you weren’t involved in Tyler’s chases but for some reason that day, you decided to meet the crew at a diner for lunch between storms. You had to fight your way through the crowd of adoring fans hovering around his truck before being able to greet him with a big kiss and warm embrace. As always, he kissed you back before slinging his arm over your shoulder. But as the two of you began walking towards the diner door, chatting about what he had gotten up to that morning, he trailed off, his attention now fully on the crew huddled around the Strom Par trucks. 

You didn’t know any of those guys by name but had been around enough to recognize their faces—all but one. There was a new girl with them who was studying a tablet and glancing up at the darkening sky. She was pretty, but you didn’t see anything particularly notable about her. You turned to ask Tyler who she was, but before you could, he strolled off in that direction without a word leaving you standing with your hand on the door to the diner unsure what you were supposed to do.

Part of you thought you should go inside and order both of you lunch so it would be waiting when he came back, but there was something in Tyler’s posture as he stood next to this girl that was setting off alarm bells in your head. They were across the parking lot with their backs mostly to you so you couldn’t make out anything they were saying, but after knowing Tyler for six years and dating him for four, you had gotten rather good at reading his body language. And right now, the pronounced jut of his hips, the upturned tilt of his head, and that certain smile you could just get a glimpse of when he turned the right way all told you the same thing. He liked this girl—a lot.

You watched them for another moment or two until Lily, Dani, and Boone came barrelling out of the diner, almost knocking you over. By the time you all untangled yourselves and you looked back over to where Tyler and the girl had been standing, she was walking back towards the Storm Par team. But Tyler…Tyler’s eyes were locked on her. He nodded slightly as an impressed grin spread across half of his face. He stared after her for another beat before the grin dropped and he straightened, his eyes scanning the lot until he saw you standing by the diner, looking back at him. Quickly slipping his sunglasses back on his face, he jogged to your side. 

Just before he reached you, he shot one quick look over his shoulder at the Storm Par team. Whatever the girl had said to them had caused them to pack up all their equipment and climb into their vehicles. Tyler jerked his head at Lily, Dani, and Boone who were still standing near you, then he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to do lunch, but we gotta go. Storm’s moving in faster than we thought and it looks like it's gonna be a good one.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Just meet you back at the motel tonight? Dex was gonna grill up some steaks for everyone.”

“Yeah,” you said, not looking at his face. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Hey.” He used his finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. “Everything alright?”

You sighed, staring into his sunglasses. “Yes, Tyler. Just go before you miss your window. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay…tonight.” He squeezed your arms one last time and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before heading to where his crew was already packing up.

When he was about halfway across the parking lot, the group of Storm Par vehicles pulled out in front of him. As the truck the girl was in passed by, you saw that same smile return to his face and you turned away, a queasy feeling building in your stomach.

That night at the motel, all Tyler could talk about was this girl—Kate—and how she had perfectly predicted the storm. Everyone else out there had assumed the system forming to the east was the one to chase, yet Tyler and Kate had been the only ones to correctly identify that the cap wouldn’t break and the one to the west was the better option. 

The sick feeling deep in your stomach that had been growing since Tyler began talking about her only got worse when Kate walked by the Wranglers on the way to her room. Tyler introduced the two of you—she was polite but seemed surprised when Tyler referred to you as his girlfriend. You just nodded back before taking a long drag on your beer. Seeing the way Tyler had looked at her was bad enough, but hearing him tease her and listening to him call her by a little nickname all while that spark burned in his eyes was a thousand times worse. And on top of it all, you could see past his bravado—he genuinely respected this girl and thought she was special. It was too much to take and, shortly after she left, you excused yourself and went to your room. When Tyler came up an hour or two later, you pretended to be asleep so you wouldn’t have to talk.

Originally, you had planned on heading back to your shared apartment in the morning, but as uncomfortable as you were feeling about the situation, you didn’t feel like leaving Tyler alone with Kate. You felt terrible even thinking like that because you knew Tyler loved you and would never do anything to hurt you, but you couldn’t forget the way he looked at her. So, you rode out with Dani and Dexter on that day’s chase and jumped in to help when the crew arrived in what was left of Crystal Springs after the storm went through.

While the rest of the crew began handing out food and water to those who had just lost everything, a woman came over to where you, Tyler, and Boone were sorting through some rubble. She was dirty and crying, tears leaving muddy streaks down her face as she explained that they couldn’t find their family dog and, as her kids had already lost so much, was there any way you could help her find him. You were all more than willing to help and immediately began looking for the little guy. 

After a while, you began drifting away from where Tyler and Boone were looking. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Storm Par trucks pull up but you tried to ignore them. Scott and Javi were probably just here to try to talk these poor people into selling what little they had left to that slimeball Riggs for a fraction of what it was worth. How could Tyler seriously be drawn to this new girl if she was helping Storm Par do this to people? It went against everything Tyler stood for. This thought stuck in your head and you began to wonder if maybe you had let your insecurities get the best of you and had blown this whole Kate situation out of proportion.

Suddenly, you heard a small whimper off to your left. Slowly and carefully, you shifted a few pieces of concrete and wood until you saw a tiny pair of eyes staring back at you from the shadows. Bending down, you called out to him, and the cutest little tan-and-white terrier poked his head out with a small bark. After sniffing in your direction for a moment, he slunk forward until he was right in front of you and you slowly reached out. When he didn’t retreat, you placed your hand gently on his head and stroked his fur. He was trembling and wet but otherwise seemed unharmed.

“Hey there, buddy! I'm so glad we found you all safe and sound.” You gathered the small dog into your arms. Rubbing under his chin and giving him a reassuring coo, you turned around and called out, “Ty! Look who I fou—”

The smile faded from your face as you spotted Kate speaking with Tyler and Boone. Even being this far away, even with Tyler getting heated about whatever they were talking about, even as Tyler turned to storm away, you could see that you hadn’t been jumping to conclusions after all. You could practically see the tension crackling in the air between them and it was the final straw. As much as every fiber of your being was screaming at you not to, you knew what you needed to do.

Walking over to where the guys were still searching, you placed the dog into Boone’s arms before grabbing Tyler’s hand and leading him away from everyone else. “We need to talk.”

“Uh oh. Am I in trouble?” he asked, chuckling slightly. But the moment you pulled him behind the rubble of one of the houses and faced him, his smile evaporated. Squeezing your hand tighter, he asked, “Wait. Is something actually wrong?”

Letting go of his hand, you took a few steps away from him as you slowly exhaled. Then you asked, “Tell me one thing about what I do at my job. Not my title, but what I do.”

Tyler stared at you as if you had just grown another head. “Sweetheart, what is this—”

“Just answer the question.”

He ran his hand through his hair as he pondered the question. “You’re in finance and you work…with money…”

“Doing what with money?”

“....I don’t know.”

“I know you don’t and we’ve always joked about it and I thought it was okay. After all, I don’t really get what you do either—I never have. I mean, I know what you literally do, but how you feel about it or why you get such joy from it?” You shake your head, staring at the ground. “I’ve tried to be as supportive as I could be the last four years and let you go out there without saying a word, despite how dangerous it is, but I still don’t get it…She does.”

“She who?”

“Kate.”

“Wait a minute–” Tyler held up his hands and took a step closer to you but you cut him off.

“Tyler, you’ve been different ever since she showed up. She’s all you talk about and you’ve been going out of your way to impress her or show her how much better you are than Storm Par.”

“You know I get a little competitive especially when it comes to those assholes. They look down on my crew because they don’t have degrees or schooling or whatever and I sometimes get lost in trying to show them we are just as good as they are without all that stuff. So maybe I was going a little overboard trying to show Kate that before Storm Par turned her against us. But you know it’s all just big talk.”

“I know and I’ve tried to tell myself that. But it’s not just what you say to her, it’s how you are whenever she’s around. You stand differently, smile differently. You…you…” You blinked several times as you tried to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“I what?”

Taking another deep breath, you said, “Ty…the way you look at her is how you used to look at me.”

That shut him up. Whatever argument he was forming in his head was no longer valid and he knew it. 

Placing your hand over his heart, you said as your voice trembled slightly, “Admit it. We’ve been off for a while now. It sort of feels like we’ve just been going through the motions. We used to talk about the future: a house, marriage, a dog, maybe kids. But I can’t even remember the last time either of us mentioned anything like that.” Your eyes dropped to the ground, unable to look into his eyes as you said this next part. “Maybe…maybe we just need to take some time apart. Maybe there’s something better out there for both of us and we’re just holding each other back.”

Tyler placed his hand over where yours still rested on his chest. “There’s no one better than you.”

“Are you sure you still feel that way?” Tyler started to respond but you added, “Even after meeting Kate?”

He hesitated and that was all you needed to hear. 

Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you found the strength to look up at him as you said, “I love you. But I don’t understand you—not the way she does. And I honestly don’t think I ever will. So you need to explore this and see if there’s something there that I couldn’t give you.” You laughed, tears streaming down your cheeks. “And who knows? Maybe while you and Kate are getting your happily ever after, I’ll meet someone who understands what I do at work with money.”

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into your touch as he whispered, “I don’t want you to go.”

“And I don’t want to go. But I have to. For both of us.” Pulling his face down towards yours, you lightly kissed his lips. Then, after pulling back, you rested your forehead against his. “Please…really give this a try. All I want for you is to be happy. Whether that’s with me, Kate, or someone else. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find our way back to each other one day. But until then, if you feel it…” 

Your hands slipped from where they rested on him as you pivoted quickly and rushed away. You wanted him to come after you. To come running up behind you, sweep you into his arms, and say he was chasing what he felt and that this had all been a mistake. But he didn’t. 

Finding a police officer climbing into his car, you asked for a lift back to the motel where you had left your car. As you were climbing in, you glanced back at where you had left Tyler. But he wasn’t staring back. Instead, his attention was fully on one of the Storm Par trucks that was pulling out and you just managed to catch a glimpse of the driver’s blonde ponytail. 

What was left of your heart shattered.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. You tried to carry on with your normal schedule and stay busy to keep your mind off of everything, but it was nearly impossible, especially considering you were still living in the apartment you shared with Tyler when it wasn’t storm season. His presence lingered in every inch of the space and you wondered how long you should wait before trying to find a new place to stay. He would still be gone for another month or so but living here knowing he was nothing more than a roommate at this point nearly brought you to tears every time you thought about it. 

But even worse were the constant scenarios that played through your head about what he and Kate were doing at any given moment. You had told him to explore things with her and really see if there was a connection there, yet now thinking about him acting on anything made that queasy feeling in your stomach return worse than ever. One time you actually did get sick when you imagined Tyler showing up at the apartment asking you to leave so Kate could move it. You knew he would never be that cruel, but it didn’t stop your brain from asking what if.

Sometimes you wondered if you made a mistake. You had brought up your job and the fact Tyler didn’t know what you did as a reason he didn’t understand you, but that wasn’t the real issue (and to be fair, your job was pretty nuanced and even your parents could never remember exactly what you did). Deep down you had known for a while things were stalling out between the two of you. The love was still there but you had fallen into a rut, just going through the same routines without really putting much thought or effort into anything. Maybe Kate’s arrival was just the wake-up call you needed to face the truth. But maybe instead of pushing Tyler into another woman’s arms, you should have used this realization as fuel to work on getting the two of you back to where you were when you first started dating. 

Maybe you just threw away the love of your life because you hadn’t tried putting the work into the relationship…

A few days after leaving Oklahoma, you were cleaning the kitchen after making dinner when you heard a frantic pounding on your door. Someone from work had mentioned possibly dropping off some paperwork later, but this sounded much too urgent a knock to be them.

Walking over to the door, you pressed against it and called, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Your heart froze in your chest. It was still the middle of storm season. You hadn’t prepared yourself to face Tyler until then at least. Could he really be here to ask you to move out after all?

Cracking the door slightly to peer out, you gasped and let it swing open the rest of the way as you saw him leaning heavily on the door frame. His jeans and favorite dark burgundy shirt were filthy and ripped in several places. It looked like he had what was once mud—now dried, cracked, and flaking off—caked into his hair, skin, and clothes. But it was the way he was favoring his left leg, keeping as much weight off of it as possible, that really caught your attention. 

“What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?” You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, helping him hobble into the apartment.  

You tried to get him to sit on the couch, but he waved you off, opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. Thinking he might want something to drink, you started to walk towards the fridge, however he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms. He reeked of sweat, oil, and smoke, and you tried to squirm out of his grasp but he stopped you, running his hand down the side of your face. 

Trying to stay strong and not to melt into his embrace, you whispered, “What are you doing?”

But he just pulled you closer, his green eyes shining with something you recognized but hadn’t seen in a long time. “It’s you. It was always you and will always be you. And I should have known that from the beginning.”

Sighing, you pushed against his chest again. “Ty, I said we needed to take a step back and explore other relationships.”

“I did.”

Even though that was what you were telling him to do, it stung to hear but you pushed past it. “It’s been less than a week. That doesn’t count.”

“It could have been a year and it wouldn’t make a difference. Yeah, Kate and I share something because of our connections with the storms, and I had never met someone else who looks at them like I do so I was intrigued by her. But she’s not what I want and I’m sorry if I made you think she was. But I know now without a doubt what I want and that’s you.”

The certainty in his voice made you weak in the knees but you couldn’t understand what could have changed so completely in such a short amount of time. Studying his face, you asked, “What happened out there?”

“I just walked away from an EF5, even though I shouldn’t have. We were trying to help get people somewhere safe to hide before the storm hit when my leg got pinned under some debris—” you gasped “—I’m fine, I promise. Kate and Javi got me out and it’s just a little sore now. But then Kate took my truck and went out into the storm alone leaving Javi and me to help the rest of the crew keep everyone safe. The only place we could go was the movie theater and it wasn’t made to be a shelter. It started to come apart in minutes and people were getting sucked out. Then Lily lost her grip—”

“No! Tyler–”

“I was able to grab her but it was like playing tug of war with Mother Nature. I was holding onto her with both hands and the only thing keeping both of us from flying away was the toe of my boot wrapped around the leg of one of the theater seats. That moment was the first time in a really long time that I thought this might be it. That I wasn’t making it out of this storm alive. But just when it seemed like I couldn’t hold on any longer, I thought about you—and only you. I thought about the way you smile and boop my nose with whipped cream every single time we split a piece of pie. I thought about your absolutely horrible attempt at singing while you take a shower. I thought about that little sound you make when you’re sleeping curled against me. But most of all, I thought about the way we left things and I refused to let that be the last conversation we ever had. So, I held on until Kate was able to break up the storm.”

You had been falling in love with Tyler all over again at his confession, but that last sentence threw you for a loop. “Wait, she did what?”

He shook his head. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. But the point is, I came straight here as soon as I made sure everyone was okay because I had to fix things between us. And because I needed to do what I should have done a long time ago.”

Letting you go, Tyler reached into his pocket as—wincing—he lowered himself onto his injured leg. Your eyes grew wide as you realized what he was about to do. However, before he could pull his hand out of his pocket, you dropped down beside him, placing your hands on his to stop him.

“Ty, are you sure?” you asked, voice trembling. “I don’t want you to do this because you almost died or you think you have to—”

Tyler smiled, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “No. Baby, I’ve realized that when you love something, you’ll spend your whole life trying to understand it. So while we might not understand everything about each other right now, I’d like to spend the rest of my life by your side trying to figure it out. Because I love you more than anything else in the world and would be honored if you’d let me spend every day proving that to you—” he moved your hands aside and pulled out a box from his pocket “—as my wife.”

He popped open the lid and you gasped. The diamond ring inside was as gorgeous as it was huge. You had seen smaller rings on A-list celebrities and knew there was no way in hell either you or Tyler could afford something like this, even if you combined your savings.

Mouth still gaping, you choked out, “Where the hell did you get that?”

Tyler smiled. “There was a jewelry shop down the street from the theater that was still standing. When I went by, the owner was out front inspecting the damage. Turns out, I had helped his wife and kids get to safety so he opened up the store and gave me a pretty good deal on it.” 

“Still, you didn’t need to do this.” You reached up and brushed his hair off his face where it had been plastered down by sweat and dirt. “You know all I’ve ever wanted was you. You could have given me a rubber band and I still would have been the happiest girl in the world.”

“Should I take it back then?” He started to close the ring box, but you stopped him.

“Well, don’t be so hasty! I mean, since you already have it…”

“Does this mean you’re saying yes?” There was just the slightest edge of fear in his voice as if he honestly thought you might have a different answer. 

But you nodded, holding out your hand. “Yes. As long as you are absolutely sure this is what you want, then of course I’m saying yes.”

Tyler’s smile doubled in size as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Even noting how big it was, the weight of it momentarily surprised you. The diamonds sparkled and shined in the lights of the kitchen and you wondered if you would ever get tired of staring at it. 

Once it was securely in place, Tyler wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into his lips. The kiss had a fire and desire to it you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years, and you silently vowed to never let your passion for each other smolder again. 

As the heat of the kiss began to burn even brighter, you felt Tyler’s fingers fiddling with the buttons of your blouse. With a soft moan, you turned your head, breaking the kiss but leaving your face pressed against his. “Ty, please don’t be offended by this, but do you think before we go any further, we could move this celebration to the shower? You smell really bad.”

He chuckled, his hands still skimming over the front of your blouse. “I’ll go wherever you want me to, as long as we are together.” 

You smiled back and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Forever.” 

Then you helped ease him off the floor before leading him into the bathroom, both of your shirts and pants already on the floor before you reached it. 

[exhaslo]

Hello! I really enjoy the last post you wrote involving the alternative outcome of Villain!Miguel x Hero![Reader]. I have another fun idea and it may be a little META.

Since there are a ton of Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara fics circulating around the internet…

How about a request with Spider!Fem![Reader] who secretly reads fanfics and smut fics she found from different universes in the multiverse? Let's say the [Reader] was reading fics involving her boss and the leader of the Spider Society, Miguel O’Hara since she is completely DOWN BAD for him. Then one day, she’s reading some smut involving Miguel and he catches her doing so.

He’ll probably tease her about it and things would escalate to something hot and spicy between the two Spiders.

- @club-danger-zone

*Looks around* Shall we break some cannon events? RIP SORRY FOR BEING CRINGE BUT LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO

Warning: Minors DNI, Smut, teasing, size kink, dirty talk

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This was getting bad. You needed to learn some self control. You kept telling yourself that, but it was difficult. You had a big problem that involved your fellow Spider, the boss man, the big bad leader of the Spider Society: Miguel O'Hara.

You were head over heels for the man. He was the definition of FINE. Honestly, you never even knew that such a Spiderman existed. You, yourself, was a Spider-Woman. Like everyone else, you had your story and your life. The only thing you didn't have compared to the others was a person who loved you.

No Mary-Jane.

No Gwen Stacy.

Hell, no Peter Parker.

You were your own variant. It frustrated you. So, when Miguel brought you along to the Spider Society, you ended up simping hard for him. You had so many wet dreams about him. So many nights with whatever sex toy you had in your closet. It was getting really bad. You needed to get laid or find something to entertain you.

"Heeeeey, (Y/N), guess what I stumbled upon," Lyla appeared before you.

You had just entered one of the guest rooms that some of the Spiders used to crash for the night. You turned towards the AI, taking off your suit.

"That you found or Miguel?"

"Me! Miguel would probably shut this down if he found out," Lyla said with a grin, sending you something.

You were suspicious, but checked your mail anyway. You were very close to Miguel, in his inner circle, so you had access to Lyla. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you saw the file before you. Lyla just appeared before with with a confident grin.

"That word doesn't have a real Spiderman. Apparently the Miguel there is in a movie. Soooooo, there are soooooo many stories involving him. You're going to enjoy the smut~"

"I-I can't," You said as you opened the first website, "You are a horrible influence. I will not read these!"

---------

"Oh my god, keep going," You whispered as you clicked on the next chapter.

Your cheeks were bright red as a wide smile engulfed your face. You were enjoying all of this smut far more than you would like to admit. Hell, it made those dreams of yours even more vivid. While it did not help with your raging crush, it did get your mind off of currently wanting to fuck your boss.

"Yes!" You squealed in joy.

"Someone is in good mood." Miguel said as he walked by, "You've been focused on your watch for the past week. What could you be reading from another universe?" He asked.

Your face paled as you quickly hid your watch. Miguel would never talk to you again if he knew. Hell, he might kick you out of the Spider Society for conflict of interest. That was the last thing you wanted.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel questioned.

Miguel could sense your nervousness. His senses were higher than everyone's. Sighing softly, Miguel motioned you to follow him to his office. He had originally approached you for another reason. He could never ask you about it though. Once the two of you were alone, Miguel looked at his watch and started to type away.

"Let's see...(Y/n)'s watch."

"W-Wait! Miguel, before you do-"

"Oh-" Miguel immediately made eye contact with you, "I didn't even know there was a world like this. Very specific."

"I-I'm sorry! I was just curious and you know...The stories were just so good-"

"His tongue swirled around your clit?" Miguel's grin widen towards your flustered cheeks, "The sheer size of his dick made you feel full?"

"M-Miguel...Y-You d-don't-" You bit your lower lip, feeling your body warm up as he read the story.

"I never knew you were into all this smut, and about me none the less. That explains why you smelled extra sweet this past week," Miguel muttered the last part, watching you, "You know (Y/N), you don't need to read these."

You glanced towards Miguel, watching him approach you. Your heart was racing as his body pressed against yours, pinning you to the wall. You could feel his hot breathe. This wasn't what you were expecting. He was teasing you for reading porn about him!

"I could have helped you instead," Miguel whispered in your ear. You stared right into his lustful eyes,

"So...I'm not in trouble?" Your voice was low as you leaned closer to him. Miguel chuckled lowly, his thumb pulling against your bottom lip,

"Do you want to be?"

"Depends on the punishment," You felt dazed as you leaned towards Miguel's lips.

"Read the story to me," Miguel whispered as he licked your lips before pulling away.

You whimpered lowly, your body craving him. Why did he have to do this to you? Miguel was just so tempting. You were folding hard. Without hesitating you pulled the story up and you started to read the story.

"His hands gently stroked down y-your waist," Your breathing shuddered as Miguel's hands started to do as you read. "H-His hips g-grind-"

"What's wrong? Can't even read me a story?" Miguel chuckled lowly as you watched you melt under him.

"H-His d-dick-" You gasped lowly as Miguel started to grind his hips against yours.

You whimpered quietly as you felt your panties get damper and damper. Miguel's face was so close to yours. Miguel brought his lips to your neck as he held your hips closer. His fingers rubbing circles around your hips.

"What about my dick?" Miguel chuckled as he felt you trembled, "Such a naughty girl, reading such things about me. All you had to do was ask,"

Miguel slowly undid the bottom of your suit, exposing your soaked and desperate cunt. He lifted you onto his desk, demanding that you kept reading. Much to his amusement, you did. Miguel resisted a groan as he took his dick out, rubbing it against your folds. Your moans were so sweet.

"M-Miguel s-started....s-started to...to e-enter-" You stuttered, trying to focus on reading, but was getting distracted. You whimpered a moan as Miguel started to push his tip inside you.

"You're sucking me in so well, you've been wanting this for how long now?" Miguel held your waist, sliding his cock deeper into you, "I could have made you feel good so much sooner. Were you that oblivious to my gestures?"

You cried softly as you focused on Miguel's thick length stretching your walls out. Your back rested against his desk, muffling moans as you squeezed against him.

"I-I guess so?" You told him. Miguel scoffed lowly before thrusting into you, "Ah~ W-Wait~"

"After making me wait so long? After masking my office with your sweet scent so many times? Amor (love), I've waited long enough and so have you."

You cried out a series of moans as Miguel started to slap himself into you. His dick making itself at home within your pussy. It felt so right. Felt so much better than you doing it yourself at home. You wrapped your legs around Miguel's waist, wanting to get closer to him.

"Who do you think gave Lyla access to those stories?" Miguel chuckled as you cam against his dick, "I grew tired of waiting and wanted to give you a little push."

"H-Hah~ Mhm~ C-Can...C-Can we do what some of those stories did then?" You begged. Miguel raised a brow as he pinched your clit, watching you squirm,

"That and more. My naughty girl needs to be punished first."

You moaned to his wishes, having him use you for his pleasure. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, feeling your body grow hot again. With a grunt and a deep thrust, Miguel cam inside you. You shivered from the feeling, crying out his name.

"That's right. Now you're being a good girl," Miguel panted softly, soaking in the state you were in, "As much as I would love to continue, I have some reports to do. Why don't you pick your favorite story and we'll continue this tonight?"

"Mhm," You nodded towards his request, watching Miguel fix himself.

Miguel smiled before stealing a kiss from you before leaving. You nearly squealed as you fixed yourself up. Looking through all your saved stories, you felt a new fire light up inside you.

"Ohhhhh, I'm getting wrecked tonight~!"

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Haha, hope you enjoyed this!

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Dressing for revenge [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 7k

summary: when Kaz and his crows return from Ravka they run into trouble, and to solve it, he looks for a childhood friend who is too resentful and too in love with him

warnings: trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, no physical contact, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej

A/N: I LOVE Kanej, but I wanted to write something with Kazzle Dazzle because I love him too, lol. I hope you like it!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @rustyyyyspoonz

The rumor had already spread throughout the Barrel: “Kaz Brekker and his crows are back” How long had it been since they had embarked into the Fold? Just a couple of months? They had felt like years, if you were being honest.

If it was true that they were back, you felt sorry for the trouble they were going to run into. The change of ownership of their club, the strengthening of the other gangs, and mainly the fact that they were being tried for murder thanks to the fact that Pekka Rollins had awarded it to them... all these problems were going to fall on them like a bucket of water cold. It had already fallen on them, in fact, since the rumor was accompanied that they had escaped from the stadwatch once they were captured.

You didn't know how much of what everyone was saying was true and how much was false, trying to stay as calm as possible when the name Kaz came from someone's lips for fear that Pekka had some magical ability and could read your mind or sense the fear in your eyes every time you met him. Afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to you if he knew you knew the black-haired man.

Things had changed a lot since the last time you saw the boy and that was more than noticeable. Your story goes back long before he made his reputation when you were just a couple of neighbor kids playing on the farms. You two arrived in Ketterdam together, with nothing but hopes for a better future and Jordie as your protector (or an attempt at that, at least), after your father and Mr. Rietveld died in the same accident, reuniting with Kaz’s mother and later to be matched by your mother, who had died of sadness, if that was possible. Three helpless children thrown into the cruel world were what came of that and the rest is history.

Crime, robbery, gangs, and a life of hardship were what you had to adjust to as a child, but you doubted very much that a single person living in The Barrel would be in a different situation. You weren't fully involved in the disgraced jobs of the majority, but if there was one true thing, it was that when it came to obtaining information you were, to say the least, excellent. You and Kaz had to fend for yourselves, and you learned what you could from the streets. In this way he and you became a team, so to speak, for a few teenage years, and for that period of your lives having each other was the only thing in the world. Over time he became ruthless, rude, a great fighter and earned the nickname 'dirtyhands' thanks to his gambling skills, from which he obtained most of the things you had. You learned to move quickly, to go unnoticed, and to defend yourself from those who tried to harm you, always supporting the boy’s plans.

Less than a year was enough for his name to become known and he began to think big. Sometimes he would tell you about the plans he had: to run Fifth Harbor, to establish the crow club, to become the best of The Barrel. All of that sounded like crazy ideas at first, but looking back you realized that he had accomplished too much in that pit for your relatively young age.

You never knew what made you and Kaz go their separate ways, but somehow it had happened. It was gradual, maybe that's why it was hard for you to notice, but one day you woke up and realized the distance that existed between him, who previously was practically the only family you knew, and you. It didn't take much for him to decide to break the bond that had held you together from a very early age; he never gave reasons for this and you never asked him.

You lived under some protection from the leader of The Crows, of course, but very few people could link you to The Bastard of the Barrel. Sometimes you still provided him with information, but when he found someone else, the inquiries became less and less frequent until one day they turned into none. You managed to eat and have a roof over your head pretty well (and mostly honestly) and you tried to stay out of trouble for a long time.

Until one day he flew away from Ketterdam without warning and order in the Barrel was disturbed in every possible way. With his team gone, it didn't take long for Pekka to seize control and anyone who didn't work for him was inevitably against him. It was only a matter of time before he found out the talent you had tried to hide and forced you to carry his lion shield... figuratively speaking.

If he ever knew that you used to work with Kaz he never mentioned it or maybe your relationship with him had been severed so long that no one remembered it anymore. Now you were just a little girl, as he used to call you, slippery enough that she seemed so harmless that, in his eyes, that became a benefit. You were never one to look rude, unfortunately for you, and that allowed men like him to feel entitled to take advantage of you. You thanked the saints that Rollins didn't find you attractive or who knows what other services he would have requested from you. It was always better to provide him with the information he needed than for him to force you to be his lover.

You weren't a part of the meetings that the Dime Lions had and you weren't considered a member either, which kept you calm every night. You were just another piece in the enormous chess game that Pekka moved at his convenience, the same game that was threatened by the mere existence of Kaz Brekker and much more so now that he had returned.

In the middle of the night it was logical to ask yourself, what kind of strange plans would he have in mind now?

One, two, and three knocks surprised you at the rickety wooden door and made you jump out of your chair, where you were already asleep. An old lamp was on the even older table and it illuminated the little space that your provisional home had so you took it to approach to open the door. It was raining outside (quite unusual for that time of year) and by the time it was you figured it was one of Rollins' idiots coming to do a job for you. What would he want now? Harbor information? Talk to a policeman? He was supposed to control everything, sometimes you kept wondering why he asked for your help.

When you opened the door, the air slipped in and almost extinguished the flame of the fire, but the temperature of the night wasn’t what left you freezing, but the presence that was in front of you. With his hat, a completely black outfit, and his cane in hand, but above all soaked from head to toe, there was him; Kaz. You almost feared you were imagining it, but you knew it was him by the clear, penetrating eyes that were watching you, even though you admitted that he had changed so much that in other circumstances you would have had trouble recognizing him.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” he asked. No warm greetings, no smiles, no explanations. Just a cold, serious question, just the way he was.

“Someone followed you? If this place is horrible by itself, I don't want blood staining the floor” you replied with the same tone. You wanted to tell him that you had missed him, ask him if he was okay, and give him a huge hug, but those actions should be reserved for your nocturnal fantasies, because as soon as you took a step forward he would be able to hit you with his cane. Or at least that's what the Kaz you knew would do, but you doubted very much that the passing of the years would have softened his heart.

"Nobody followed me" was all he said and you stepped aside at the door so he could go inside. Even with his words, you felt the need to look out on both sides of the street in search of someone, but with the level of rain, you doubted very much that someone would want to stay and spy because he would probably die of pneumonia.

When you closed the door and turned around he didn't say anything, he just stood in front of you while the water drained from his coat. During that moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire it under the warm light of the candle; his eyes definitely hadn't changed one bit, but now there was a tinge of contempt more noticeable than before. His features had hardened and he was thinner, barely resembling the boy you remembered, perhaps as a reminder of just that... that he was now a man.

“So the rumors are true…” you started to say “You are back”

"I think that's more than obvious," he exclaimed. For a second you forgot that it was he who had knocked on your door and you felt uncomfortable as if you were an intruder who had to get out of there.

There was silence again and you two just looked at each other. Kaz had made his own mental list of changes he noticed in you and was reflecting on when was the last time he had looked at you in such detail. You were wearing light clothes, because before he arrived you were about to go to sleep, and your face, although as childish as always, looked more tired than before. You had also cut your hair, which was messy around your shoulders and a bit darker in tone.

“And may I know to what I owe your visit? I guess you don't want to have tea” you said to break the silence. The dryness of your words in a certain way was to protect yourself because you never knew how much a sharp tongue like his could hurt you.

"I'm in a job and I need people"

Of course it was going to be due to a job, and of course that was why he had sought you out after so many years. A part of you, tremendously stupid, to tell you the truth, was hoping that during the time your friend was away from Ketterdam some divine clarity would have illuminated him so that he would realize that he had to look for you to repair your relationship and offer at least apologies. But you would have to pay him every kruge in the country for him to do something like that.

"I'm glad you considered me, but I'm sorry I have to decline."

"Why?" he asked immediately, his raspy voice showing annoyance at the refusal.

“Because it happens that you can’t work for opposing sides. At least not at the same time” you replied. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but you swore you saw a slight look of surprise on the man's face when you answered that. Most likely, he had assumed that you would be one of the few people who wouldn’t be on Pekka’s side and therefore a safe option.

“Do you work for Pekka?” he muttered. You knew him well enough to know that he was hurt, you could see it in his posture, in his voice, and especially in his look “After all he did to us?”

"And what did you want him to do?" you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had spoken in the plural. Us “You practically handed us over to him. My options were that or receive a bullet in the forehead."

"I didn’t hand you over to anyone"

"You abandoned us and left us in his hands, it's the same thing" you replied, shrugging. There was so much resentment and pain from never-closed wounds floating in the air that it was hard for him and you to think clearly. “Your vacation in Ravka may have been nice, but things only just went to hell here. So don't you dare judge me by the choices I made” you exclaimed defensively.

You didn't imagine that your first conversation with him after so long would be like this, but unfortunately, things never turned out the way you expected. After all, they were a crook and a spy talking in the dead of night.

"You could get information from him more easily," Kaz concluded, shrugging the same way you did. "And so we sink him from the inside."

"And risk him finding out and killing me?"

“You know that would never happen,” he said firmly “The thing about killing you. I wouldn't allow him” his eyes stared at you almost offended by the lack of trust you had towards him. There was silence for the third time and this time your gaze moved away to focus on anything but him.

"Plus you have this girl you took out of The Menagerie, don't you?" you said in your defense. The one you replaced me with, you wanted to add, but held back "So I don't know what you might need me for" 

"With so many problems going on, I thought it would be better to have as many alliances as possible," he explained to you. You continued without looking at him, with your head still full of worries and sorrows, and when he didn’t receive an answer, he spoke again "You know that it is your best option"

"I don't know that, but I do know that I would have liked you to at least ask how I am before asking me to join the team you never wanted me in and from which you separated me as soon as you had the chance" you exhaled, in an attempt to lighten the weight on your chest. 

It was no secret that you had always felt betrayed by Kaz’s treatment of you, even though he treated dozens of others the same way, because you somehow thought that your backstory was enough to deserve at least the sympathy or some consideration on the part of the crow. And of course you wanted to run from Pekka's clutches and plunge him into the deepest muck, but the resentment for what you considered your friend’s abandonment was stronger. You didn't even know if it was correct to call him ‘friend’.

"You would be a good ace up my sleeve" was all he replied, in an attempt to convince you. Kaz begged absolutely no one, but if there was one thing he had decided before coming to find you, it was that he wouldn't leave until you agreed to help him. Although the nature of your current job made things a bit difficult for him, "Pekka never knew you worked for me, did he?"

"With you" you corrected him "I didn't work for you but with you. We got to The Barrel at the same time”

"Y/N" he murmured. Your name sounded strange coming from his lips after so long without hearing it and that caught you off guard “I'm trying to help you so you don't end up hurt or dead. If you work for… with me, I can tell you where not to be. Otherwise I could find you in the rubble of some confrontation or with a knife from Inej or a bullet from Jesper through your chest”

"Always so thoughtful," you replied with a smirk, but as much as it pained you to admit it, he had a point. You knew what he was capable of and what Pekka was capable of… which side was more convenient to be on? "How much are you going to pay me?" you asked and Kaz smiled, but it wasn't a sign of happiness but mockery “You've always said that's what's really important, haven't you?”

He took something out of his coat and tossed it on the table. They were bills. 

"An advance, when I recover the crow club, I will pay you the rest"

“So my pay depends on whether we win or not. That doesn't sound so convenient to me,” you muttered, clicking your tongue, as you fought the urge to say yes just to be near him. It was cold outside, the rain was making a lot of noise and you just wanted to sleep at once, but you knew that you could have been arguing with him all night and neither of you would back down. Kaz was stubborn, one way or another he would get what he wanted. "This isn't just about the club, is it?" you said, with your voice noticeably lower and you would even say with a touch of softness. You and Kaz never talked about what had happened, but each of you was dealing with the weight of the trauma in your own way. He didn't say anything and this time you saw something in him that was different from his usual behavior, knowing that it was those ghosts from the past tormenting him.

"If someone should make him pay, it's us"

Us, again. 

"I'll think about it" was what you answered, after reflecting on what would be the appropriate response. The speechless moment gave you something else to think about, and you knew that a huge flaw of yours was how easily you let your heart take over. Because even with all the other feelings on top, you still worried about him "Now that the crow club isn't yours..." you started to say, afraid of what he might say "do you have a place to stay?"

You would have offered to sleep there if he said no, but instead he said he’d manage. That didn't completely reassure you, but you decided not to insist.

“First thing tomorrow, send a reply to this address,” he asked you, holding out a piece of paper that had a few drops on it “Don't go there personally or you'll screw everything up, just send me a note. A yes or a no will suffice”

“What if someone tracks down the note?” you asked, which was a totally valid concern.

Kaz was silent while he thought of an alternative, and then spoke again.

“Just write crows of a feather, murder together. I'll understand” he murmured and you nodded. You knew the poem he was quoting from, had read it many times from the worn-out book he had gotten for you. Kaz didn't wait for anything else and took long steps to the door, which he opened as soon as he could. "Good night, Y/N."

And then he left.

That night you thought a lot about the solution you would give him in the morning, thinking about the pros and cons of each possible answer, until you decided that it was best to say yes. You needed to do it if you wanted to live peacefully (as much as the place allowed) but the main reason was to support him. If he had been about any stupid dispute you would have said no, but you knew this was something else. Kaz missed Jordie every day of his life and his way of honoring him was by planning revenge against the one who led him to that fate, so it was kind of an obligation for you to help him with that too.

You wrote the note on a piece of paper and carefully folded it to put it in an envelope. You signed the outside with his name, written in the best handwriting you had, and although you were hesitant to do so, at the end you wrote a little ‘from a friend’ in the hope of making it clear to him, and perhaps even encouraging him that, if he was willing, you could recover a little of what you had lost. And you weren’t referring to physical things, but to what existed between you.

All your life you had lived with almost opposite feelings when it came to Kaz. Somehow you were upset with him for only seeing you as an instrument that he could dispose of for his interests, but this was linked to the feeling of affection that you wanted him to experience for you and that apparently didn’t exist. It was difficult to decipher anything he was thinking, not just about you, since he had taken it upon himself to build such a convincing facade that it made it complicated to see beyond. Added to that was his aversion to touch of any kind, which, while quite understandable and justified, still made you feel sad. More than once you tried, in vain, to be able to touch him in some way, even if it was something tiny, but he always pushed you away. He pushed you away physically and eventually emotionally, and yet with all this background you wanted to help him.

You knew you couldn't expect a reply to your note, but you were confident that he had received it, and your suspicions were confirmed when another letter came back a couple of days later. It contained a day, a time, and a place, which you assumed was a meeting with him.

You were very careful when you headed there, because you thought that the fewer people saw you together, the better, or else Pekka might suspect something. You covered yourself with a long black cloak for this task and when you arrived you noticed that it wasn't Kaz who was there, but a couple of boys.

"Who are you?"

"And you?" you asked, with the same defensive tone. The place seemed to be an experiment workshop and looking at it in more detail you noticed that there was a bed, so it could even be some kind of apartment. The two men, one brown-skinned and the other pale as snow, wore simple brown suits and were looking at you warily.

“She is Y/N,” said a voice behind you. By the sound of the cane accompanied by the footsteps you knew it was Kaz, “she will work with us”

"Oh," said the dark-haired boy, looking happier with the answer, as he walked in your direction "Welcome, in that case" he muttered flirtatiously, as he held out his hand for you to greet him "Jesper Fahey, at your service”

"I am Wylan" intervened the other, from his place, timidly and quickly.

"You arrived" Kaz spoke again. You turned and a couple of women appeared, you guessed that the shorter one with Suli features was the famous wraith of Kaz. And she was beautiful, you couldn't help but notice.

There was a brief conversation with the six of you there and then Kaz asked you to walk him up to the roof of the place. Once there you instinctively stood next to the only one you knew and he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye while he adopted the typical position of him leaning on the cane.

“Brick by brick” whispered the man’s raspy voice and you were about to ask what you were supposed to do there when an explosion went off in the distance so impressively that you stepped back a bit. It didn't take you more than a few seconds to locate the space and realize the place it was.

"The crow club" you said in a low voice, only for the black-haired man to hear you, while you watched him in profile. But he didn't look at you, just exchanged words with the others and talked about how Pekka's apparent reign was coming to an end.

You'd always known that Kaz Brekker was a little unhinged, and that night you proved it for sure, but you weren't even the least bit afraid. Rather, it was some strange hope that this madness would allow you to go far. Even freedom, perhaps.

After that clear declaration of war, things got considerably complicated, especially when you were summoned before Pekka and he asked you to investigate someone in particular and it turned out to be none other than the man you were now secretly working with. You assumed it was something logical, but even so you feared that Rollins had noticed the slight tremor in your hands when he asked you to complete the task.

You summoned Kaz to Black Veil Cemetery, late at night, and there you confessed to him everything that had happened. He of course found something good in this and devised a way to use it to your advantage, which put you at ease. It still amazed you a little at how nervous you became around him as if you knew nothing of what you were doing, but when you regained your composure you thought it was an excellent plan.

Meetings with Kaz were regular, but always in secret and alone, and they worked to exchange information that you considered useful for him with what he would allow Pekka to know.

You didn't know the full plans and you weren't part of them in any way, or you would be found out, but you knew about almost everything that was going on. The attacks, the fights, the traps, the injuries... you had to look at everything from the outside without being able to intervene. It was frustrating for you, more than anything in the world, and you had to admit that you had taken a liking to crows, even if you had seen them only a couple of times, so you also looked after their safety.

One day you received a note and went to a meeting with all the members of his group present, to finally hear the full version of what Kaz intended to do to finish off your boss. It was a brilliant idea, but you were a little worried about your position in all of this.

“You mean I'm going to be there watching everything Pekka and his thugs do?”

"It will be the best" he answered you. His face still had a bruise on his cheek, a memory from the last fight he had, and he looked exhausted "Jesper and Nina will be there, plus you'll be in disguise" he added and you nodded at that.

When the moment came you thought it would be an easy task, but when Kaz started to get brutally beaten you had to muster all your willpower not to throw yourself into trying to face Pekka, even with your zero skill. He sounded so convincing when he said about Alby that even you believed it, feeling suddenly awed by the cynical smile on Kaz's blood-smeared face. And he also mentioned you in the story, although not directly, saying that it was all about revenge for having abandoned you two when you were children.

You were able to breathe again until Pekka and his entire gang left the place in search of a son who wasn't really buried and you four were left alone. Under other circumstances you would have run to Kaz, cupped his face in your hands, sobbed, and told him it was over. But instead, you just stood in front of him and watched him; his eyes were wild with fury and a thirst for revenge that had already been quenched, but you sensed a hint of calm when he became aware of your presence.

"Breathe," you said in a whisper. Jesper and Nina were dismayed by the closeness with which you spoke to him, as they knew little of your history together “You're fine. We all are,” you assured him. That situation took you back to multiple panic attacks in the past where, given the impossibility of physical contact, all you could do for him was talk to calm him down. It always worked and Kaz had forgotten how soft your voice was and the way you brought him back to the real world. You decided to risk trying to do something else to comfort him and cautiously stretched out your hand towards him, instantly seeing his eyes widen in terror. But your hand ended up landing, more like a touch than a squeeze, on the man's bicep, which was covered by his coat; it wasn't intrusive, or abrupt, and Kaz was surprised that he didn't feel anything negative about it. He looked at your hand and then he looked at you with that usual serious expression, but he didn't push you away and allowed you to stay that way for just a few seconds, after which you decided to move your limb back.

You didn’t receive a verbal response at any time, but you did see him exhale shakily (so softly that you barely noticed) and nod his head while still looking at you, as if he were letting go of a huge weight that was stuck in his chest and at the same time assure you that it felt like a victory. Victory for beating Pekka, victory because he wasn't engulfed by an attack when you touched him, and victory because somehow you were there. You were with him, again.

“Now can we go back to normal?” Jesper asked, to break the silence, and you felt like laughing. Have they ever had a normal life? you asked yourself, but you didn't say.

"Yes" was all Kaz said and taking one last look at you he began to walk in the direction of the exit.

Both of them were curious about the type of relationship you had with Kaz but neither thought it wise to ask at the time, although Nina was getting an idea of things thanks to your racing heartbeat and his that it was impossible not to hear a moment ago. You stayed there just long enough to have a drink with Jesper and then you left the Emerald Palace. You didn't want to go back home, but going with one of them didn't seem like an option either, and once you were on the street you felt worried about remembering the state the black-haired man had left. You trusted that by that time he would be calmer and as if they thought for themselves your legs began to walk to look for him.

It was cold again and you feared you would meet someone dangerous on the road, but you only saw a couple of drunks and a girl looking for clients. Until you were in front of the door, you wondered if it was a good idea to go in, thinking that you would probably be crossing a line that Kaz was not going to allow you to, and wondering if you were going to put up with his refusal, which was a pretty good chance.

With trembling hands you opened the door, which luckily was unlocked, and as if some unknown instinct were guiding you, you found Kaz's room; it was the only one from which light came out through the crack in the door and something told you that he was there. You knocked twice, fearing you had knocked so low that he hadn't heard, and even considered walking back the way you came, but didn't have time to as the door opened a few seconds later. He had already taken off his coat and vest, probably because they were stained with blood, and his black shirt was open at the top buttons, with the suspenders that held up his pants hanging on his thighs. But what caught your attention the most were his pale, gloveless hands.

"What do you need?" he asked you directly. His face looked worse now that the bruises had swollen and the blood was dry. He'd probably have them for a couple of days, and he was definitely going to have a scar over his eyebrow.

"I wanted to see you" you replied, instantly regretting not having considered your sincere words better "I mean... to see how you were" you tried to correct. You thought he would slam the door in your face, but instead he scooted to the side to let you in, then closed the door behind you with a soft click.

Again you felt alien to the place for a moment, thanks to the fact that he looked at you from head to toe as if your presence bothered him. You had to mentally remind yourself that he saw most of them that way.

“Your pay will be ready soon”

"That doesn't matter," you said softly. Several things had changed since the first conversation you had with him, because now that you knew why Kaz had done everything he had done and the traumatic memories returned to both of you, the money had taken a backseat.

You didn't say anything for a moment and you looked for a place where you could sit later. Kaz’s room, once painted green but now just damp walls, had a small bed by the window, a desk littered with papers and a lamp facing another window, with a simple bookcase placed on the top of the side wall; a nightstand, a place to wash your hands with a mirror above it, a circular table in the middle of the free space, and a single armchair that at least looked comfortable. It wasn't the prettiest place, but at least it was cozy.

"Your girl, did she leave?"

“Inej is not my girl. Or from anyone, she is free now” he answered you. He still wasn't looking at you and you noticed that he was having a hard time staying on his feet.

"I'm glad to hear it. She deserves it” you murmured sincerely. You thought that she would be important to Kaz, like all his partners, and you decided to venture out to see if he revealed something else to you. "She's very smart."

"She is"

"And she's pretty too" you added and without moving his head he looked out at yours. You felt as if he was reading your intentions through your eyes, a quality he had always had.

"I think so," he said without much interest.

"Are you very hurt?" you asked, changing the subject, as you took a step towards him. By inertia he took the same step, in the opposite direction, and that made you stop abruptly.

"Nothing to worry about" he exclaimed and though he thought, you couldn't have known, of course, get close to you, you decided to take that step back before he did anything else. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm"

"What did I do to make you walk away?" you exclaimed, finally expressing a question that had been eating away at your chest and tormenting you for many nights in a row. And since there was silence, you spoke again: “Not like right now, but a long time ago. It's just… I never understood it. Before we were friends and for me… you were even like a family. I loved your brother too and I know losing him never affected us the same, but I was glad you were there for me after that. Then we got older and things got more difficult, but I still had you and that calmed me down. And then… we just drifted apart,” you muttered, shrugging, as you avoided his gaze. Kaz still didn't answer anything and you felt the obligation to fill the silence “Sometimes I remember the things we went through when we were young. The good ones, of course. Like that time we stole a cake to celebrate your birthday and it was probably the best sweet I've ever eaten” you commented, smiling at the memory "And when I made you laugh with my bad jokes, no matter how angry or sad you were... I haven't seen you smile for a long time and I don't know if you celebrate your birthday anymore” you reflected wistfully, almost as if you were talking to yourself. And well, in the face of Kaz's inexpressiveness, that's practically what you were doing.

He hadn't said anything yet and you concluded that all your effort was useless. It had been a mistake to go looking for him, as well as trying to get even the slightest proof that he had ever missed you and you wished you had never opened your mouth. You sighed to contain the urge to cry and without saying anything else you turned towards the exit, intending to leave and return only for your money, but Kaz's voice echoed. 

"Do you remember what I told Pekka?"

You stopped.

“You told him many things, you will have to be more specific”

"About not loving anything" he replied. Your hand trembled on the doorknob at the mere thought of what he was implying and I was able to hear your racing heart pounding in your chest. You heard footsteps and, still without moving, you heard him speak again "That's why I drifted apart”

You never, even in your wildest dreams, imagined that he would say something like that to you and perhaps you were just deluding yourself with the implication of the words, but it was enough to make you freeze in place.

"I still don't understand how that relates to me” you expressed in a low voice. Kaz took a few more steps towards you until you could see his shadow mingling with yours and you felt it was time to turn. He was watching you from above, seriously.

"I didn't want…" he trailed off. You would almost say he was nervous “I didn't want you to be…”

"A weak spot," you said without thinking, followed by a sigh that sounded almost amused "That's your problem, Kaz," you continued, your gaze far across the room, "You think love is a person's greatest weakness, when it's not like that"

"It is not?"

"No" you exclaimed with determination "I believe that... many times love is what keeps us alive. Struggling"

You were speaking for yourself when you said this. What was your motivation every day? In the past, the love for Kaz. Now, it was love for yourself and the hope that one day someone could love you with the intensity with which you loved others.

“I had already lost Jordie. I didn't want to lose you too,” he finally said and that's when your eyes locked with his. You never thought he would verbally express something like that.

“And did you prefer that I lose you?" you whispered in pain. You wanted him to be aware of things, because it seemed like it had never crossed his mind to stop thinking about your well-being and start thinking about your feelings. “You don't just lose someone when they die, Kaz. You can also lose those who are fully alive”

He didn't say anything, because he clearly didn't know what to answer to that, and while he reflected on your words, you caught a glimpse of a certain vulnerability in his blue eyes that you had rarely seen. I couldn't say that you knew the man in front of you better than anyone, but you had a considerable advantage thanks to the years you had lived with him.

“Okay, just… listen” you started to say, knowing he most likely wouldn't give you an answer “I know it's hard to live as we do— as all of us at The Barrel live, but the risks I decide or don't take. They are my decision, not yours. These years you have sought to keep me out of danger and I appreciate it, but you have to learn to trust me”

"I do. I trust you"

"Then show me," you replied. You couldn't help noticing that, even with his stained face, Kaz was still the most handsome man you'd ever seen “Friends do not avoid each other, nor do they move away and despite that, during all these years I have trusted you as from the first moment we were left alone”

You didn't know if you were saying the right thing, but at least you were saying something.

"And if it's too late?"

It was too late? Kaz wondered. He wondered if it was too late to open up to someone, to try to get over his trauma, to let go and finally love you the way he wanted to.

But all this remained as a thought, phrases that couldn’t leave his throat.

“It's not for me,” you assured him. “But my patience won't last forever. I think you should know that”

You couldn't even imagine how many emotions Kaz was trying to process at that moment, but even he himself didn't understand what a mess you'd made of him with that conversation. From his perception, he had admitted that he loved you, but from his eyes, you didn't seem affected by it. And you, contrary to what he thought, felt like you were going to faint.

You were about to leave, for the second time, but he spoke:

“Stay,” he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. “I don't know what to say, but… just stay here. I don't want us to be alone tonight”

Us. That fucking habit of Kaz's to speak in the plural and make you a nervous wreck.

You looked at the bed and found that it was too small for both of you, to which we had to add his refusal to be close to others. Proof of this was the unconscious movement of sticking your hands as close as possible to his body during the entire time you were talking.

"Use the bed, obviously you need it more than me" you muttered and went directly to the armchair. Fortunately your first impression wasn’t wrong, it was very comfortable.

The room was so small that the apparent distance between the pieces of furniture didn't mean much, so when he sat on the bed you could see him perfectly.

The memory of one of the times when both of you were in similar situations came to your mind. That night you had been woken by frightened screams from the next room, in that abandoned house where you and Kaz found shelter, forcing you out of bed to investigate.

It was hard to comfort a person without physically touching them, especially when he had nightmares, and over the months you'd had to get used to it. The boy hated waking you up, it made him feel guilty and stupid, but you always kept him company. You never spoke, never asked questions, you just stayed there so he knew he wasn't alone.

Maybe something like that was what Kaz needed tonight. 

"Rest" you exclaimed. His head turned to look at you and you detected a different and special glow in his eyes; as if it were a mixture of fear, softness, and gentleness. You appreciated that look for a few more seconds, which you feared you would never see again in your life, and then you reached out your hand to turn off the light on the desk.

Silence reigned in the darkness.

You settled in the chair, trying to figure out what would be the best sleeping position, and at the same time you heard Kaz slide between the sheets on the bed. After a while, your eyelids felt heavy, a consequence of the fatigue that the hustle and bustle of the day had left you, and when you were about to fall asleep, a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"Thank you. For everything”

The phrase was a whisper, a delicate caress in your ear, but you understood it clearly. And you decided to think that when Kaz said 'for everything' he meant literally everything you had selflessly done for him during his life; like he just realized you were important. But it's not that he had just noticed it, but that he had just accepted it.

You wanted to stretch out the moment as long as you could because, even if you weren't looking at him, you knew he was awake thanks to the sound of his breathing, but at some point sleep overcame you and you fell fast asleep.

Kaz had nightmares that night, like always, but the difference was that when he woke up in shock in the morning, you were in the same room. So seeing you there, keeping him company, was reason enough to calm him down.

And like every time this had happened, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

[ennn]

I expect Billy is going to be an antagonist for a while and that's OK

Anti's for either Agatha or Billy are probably going to get more intense as I predict our boy Billy's gonna be antagonistic for a bit. And let's be clear, I'm not hating, or saying either are evil, or in the wrong.

That's way too simple a take for this show. In the words of showrunner Jac Schaeffer:

...we populated the show with similarly flawed individuals who are also selfish and self-serving, who are self-sabotaging, who are constantly standing in their own way. And then they were just in conflict.  Everybody is kind of an anti-hero in the show. That was really fun and felt very truthful there. 

No one here is meant to be a pure "good guy", which is I think kind of Billy's arc -- but more on that later.

And when I mean antagonist I'm talking about the characters roles in the story. An antagonist isn't necessarily a villain. Agatha is the show's protagonist as well as its main antagonist: as much as she claims she wants only power, deep down she wants a coven, a community, a family. But she is as Schaeffer puts it, "in the way of her own thing."

Billy being an antagonist simply means that his goals – or some of them at least – conflict with Agatha's. Rio has been described as a "romantic antagonist" as well because some of her goals are also in conflict.

Long text speculation post and mild promo spoilers under the cut:

Let's first get this out of the way: Why do I think Billy's going to take on an antagonist role? Aside from well, all the things that happened at the end of Episode 5, there's some clues Billy's not all who he's been saying he is:

There's a promotional video with audio lines, and you can hear Billy saying things like "Agatha Harkness can never be anything but a covenless witch" and "I do not trust you".

Billy claiming to be "obsessed" about Agatha and her biggest fan and going on the road for power should know that she is the world's most notorious witch-killer – why is he appalled about her killing and so against it? And if episode 5 is any indication, power is not what he's lacking.

Joe and Schaeffer have mentioned that Billy will be different in the back half of episodes.

A quick clip from a trailer has Agatha (covered in mud) telling Billy "Last one there is a nice person", implying that Billy at this point doesn't want to be nice. I assume, at this point, he wants Agatha to pay for her misdeeds. The yellow tint of the clip also matches with the current Road area they're on.

Now at this point I do not know if Billy was involved in what I believe is a fake trial in episode 5. I'm inclined to think it's the Salem Seven, and we get this truth of Billy as fallout. I believe he definitely didn't want Alice dead.

Now for reasons why I think it'll be okay–even interesting–to have these two in conflict and everyone should put away their pitchfolks:

They are going to come to an understanding

You know how in Hawkeye series Yelena wants to kill Barton because she blames him for Natasha's death? I think we'll get a broadly similar arc or vibe for Agatha and Billy here. And they will design it in a similarly emotionally satisfying manner.

Right now Billy's basically like everyone–including the rest of the coven–who believes that Agatha is truly what her reputation says. And that's not surprising! Agatha is masks and layers and theatrics and she's not opening up unless she absolutely has to.

It may take a few episodes but I expect we'll get that before the series end, with this sobering exchange we have from a trailer:

Why do you let them believe those things about you? Because the truth is too awful.

I don't think Billy will be the Big Bad simply because I expect at the end Agatha's going to have to choose between wanting her coven, her community of witches, and something else—power perhaps, or her son, and go back to her old ways.

And for that to happen Agatha will need to have formed enough bonds with her coven, including Billy, to make it a difficult choice.

Power, darkness, and anti-heroes

Look, Agatha is my babe and she definitely needs a win after all that awful that happened in episode 5, but if you think about it Billy being a lot like his mom is really interesting? More interesting than him just being a cute innocent fanboy.

Because if he is an anti-hero, with some darkness in him, it's an opportunity to explore some of the themes or ideas we touched on in Wandavision with Wanda and her power, and her sense of self.

Heroes don't torture people.

Agatha recognises the darkness in people, delights in it even: as touched on in interviews, it's one of the reasons why she saw herself as Detective Agnes in that spell, as an investigator exploring the darkest aspects of humanity. She's seen the worst in people, and knows how to play the villain.

For Billy to avoid making the same mistakes as his mom, he needs to understand not just his power, but his potential for darkness.

Power corrupts, and when you're born with that reality-warping level of power, it's dangerous. It's so tempting to make people do what you need them to. And it's a slippery slope once you start killing, even if it's for good reasons.

Agatha never wanted to kill her first coven, in that moment she only wanted to live. But she did, with a power she never asked for, that made it so easy to keep taking and taking.

It is kind of tragic given the circumstances that Agatha couldn't have been a mentor to Wanda at the end of Wandavision, given the events of Multiverse of Madness, because she made some valid points and they could have been a coven, given Agatha's deep-deep-buried desire for one.

And looking at all the mentor-kid pairings we've seen in the MCU so far (Parker and Stark, Clint and Bishop, Strange and Chavez, etc.), I don't think we've ever had this kind of dynamic.

Interesting power dynamics

I think Agatha is at her most interesting when she's on the back foot. As we've seen in episode one, she's not one to give up when physically outmatched, quite the opposite. She's a survivor, she's stubborn, and she's a performer.

Billy has been revealed to have the magical equivalent of a gun, and is capable of taking this entire coven hostage.

They're going to have to interact in new ways now. But now it's going to be more of a dance.

It's new danger, new complications, but also new ways to connect, and also the opportunity for a more honest relationship.

Knowledge, history, community

This point isn't specific only to Agatha and Billy but I'm reminded of Billy taking it out not just on Agatha but Lilia and Jen as well.

It's not surprising that Alice and Billy, the two youngest coven members are also the most idealistic and noble. The world has not been kind to witches over the centuries—Lilia's been chased out of villages for her visions, Jen has been attacked—and the older members of the group have done what they can to survive: How much can you blame them for being selfish in a cruel world?

Power isn't your problem, it's knowledge.

In this case I mean not just the knowledge of witchcraft, but lived experience as well.

Younger witches have to learn their community's history, and the older ones have to be challenged in their set ways of thinking, in how they've adapted, because they're not always good.

I wouldn't be surprised if there was an allegory to be made here to the queer community as well. Schaeffer has mentioned there is a large overlap between the history and persecution of witches and that of the LGBTQ community.

--

Good lord this post ran away from me. If you actually read all of that you do deserve a cookie.

[malarign]

heeseung as your boyfriend!

(soft moments with him)

contains: bf!Heeseung x gn!reader | genre: fluff, one of them is slightly suggestive, nothing crazy but still decided to point it out | tw! implications of sexual tensions (again, nothing happens) | wc: 1,4k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreaciated!!!

other members’ versions: PJS - SJY - PSH - KSW - YJW - NRK

➶ keeping passionate eye contact *ೃ༄

Heeseung is either a very confident or a complete shy mess, there’s no in-between. But when he does feel confident enough he would often keep a long and passionate eye contact with you. Usually does it pretty randomly, like when you’re waiting for your order at the restaurant, cuddling at home or even doing your groceries. He exactly knows the impact it has on you, even though you often try not to let him know the intimacy his eyes hold makes your knees weak.

You finished doing the dishes while Heeseung was helping you by drying them and putting them in their assigned cabinets. Accompanied by soft music, everything seemed to pass quicker, even if it was something like doing your hated house chores. You wanted to sit down after cleaning up when you noticed Heeseung offering his hand.

“May I have this dance with you, ma’am?” he asked suddenly all serious. Hearing your favorite song to have a slow dance with him you accepted his hand and soon you in his arms, swinging to the rhythm of the music.

His eyes didn’t leave yours for the whole time you danced. It conveyed so much that for a while you had to think about what exactly it was. Admiration mixed with joy caused by this moment topped by pure love he had for you. His stare wasn’t an intense look that makes you want to look somewhere else. It was soft and dreamy as if he wanted to tell you: “I love you so much, my dear.”

➶ giving you back rubs and head scratches *ೃ༄

If Heeseung was to describe in one or two words it would be comfort and peacefulness. Even though he has his hyperenergetic moments most of the time you spent with each other is rather calm, making both of you clear your minds. Those times also would include an intense amount of touch that at the beginning somehow overwhelmed you but after a while, you just started to melt in his touch. Especially the way his hand wandered the skin of your back or tangled in your hair while scratching your scalp helped you just instantly fall asleep, no matter what time of the day it was.

“Hi baby,” he said after you plopped next to him on the couch. You immediately found your favorite spot, by laying on top of him and burying your face in the crook of his neck, earning a breathy laugh from him. “How was your day, baby?”

“Tiring,” you mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

You hummed in satisfaction as his hand went under your shirt to rub your back. Smiling to yourself you listened to his comforting words.

“You always work so hard, and I’m proud of you,” he spoke and pecked your hairline lovingly.

“I love you, Hee,” you confessed. “You always make me feel so loved.”

“Well, I’m glad, because I love you so much, my big baby.”

➶ laying his head on yours *ೃ༄

For some reason, Heeseung seems like a guy who loves touch that involves the head. Patting his partner's head, playing with each other's locks, brushing fingers through them, trying new hairstyles. All of them bring come different kinds of comfort that he can’t explain. Whenever you just hang out and sit next to each other, either sitting at the bus stop or in a cafe, he just lays his head on top of yours, bonus points if you just lean on his shoulder. The comfort of this position makes his heart feel at ease.

The business of people working in a coffee shop and the soft chatter of its customers surrounded you. The fuss didn’t bother any of you, as you just comfortably sipped on your beverages, sitting next to each other in the corner, having a perfect view of the whole cafe.

You laid your head on his shoulder, and soon he followed your action, his head landing on yours.

“Can I try yours?” Heeseung suddenly asked pointing to your drink and lifting his head. You just handed him the cup without saying a word. You waited for his reaction and looked up at him, noticing how his adam’s apple raised as he sipped. He hummed at the delicious taste of your order and handed it back to you. “I like it,” he said and his head once again laid on yours.

➶ sharing earphones *ೃ༄

Sharing the same or at least very similar music taste is for Heeseung a true game changer when it comes to relationships. Music plays an important part in his life, not only as a singer or dancer but as a person who just listens to it 24/7. Seeing him with earphones is natural, just like the fact that he doesn’t often share them with anybody. Anybody but you. Whenever he sees you while he’s listening to some music through earphones, he just makes you walk with him handing you one of them.

The rain poured hard, raindrops hitting the bus’s windows with strong impact. Behind it, you spotted a few people running to nearby stores to hide from it, while all your fellow passengers quietly observed the situation. Since some parts of the city were flooded, roads were full of cars and other buses that didn’t seem to move any minute.

Your thoughts were stopped when you noticed Heeseung handing you one of his wired earphones. Without saying a word you looked at him and put it in your right ear while he did the same. You peeked at his phone to see what he was about to play. You smiled at his choice, perfect for weather like tonight.

Leaning on his shoulder you closed your eyes, feeling his hands gently playing with your fingers. His touch along with relaxing rain and music sounds made you sleepy, you didn’t even realize when you dozed off.

➶ pulling you closer by your waist *ೃ༄ | slightly suggestive

What brings an indefinite amount of joy to his heart is seeing you all smiley or shy. Testing your reactions to different types of skin ship he finally found a perfect way to make your heart flutter as well as his, which was pulling you closer by your waist. Throughout your whole relationship, he did it so often that it became a casual way of him saying a whole bunch of different confessions, from “You’re so beautiful”, “I love you so much” and in specific moments “I want you so badly”.

Getting final touch-ups to your makeup you made your way to the living room where Heeseung waited for you, ready for your date night. The moment he saw you he couldn’t contain his smile, eyeing you up and down, making you shy. He stood up and in a swift motion pulled you closer by your waist. Your bodies clasped together and you tried to hold eye contact with him as long as you could.

“It should be illegal to look like this,” he said in a flirty tone.

“Like what?” you played along but he didn’t respond and just pulled you closer to kiss you passionately.

His lips were soft in contrary to the rough kiss. His hands wandered on your sides and hips as you tangled your fingers in his locks. Before it led to something more you pulled out earning a frown and unconscious pout on his lips.

“Let’s go,” you spoke innocently and took his hand in yours.

“Y/n, I swear to God, you’ll be the death of me.”

➶ making playlists with songs that remind him of you *ೃ༄

Just like I stated, Heeseung truly believes his whole life depends on and relies on the music. You could even say that music is somehow his default love language. He enjoys dancing, singing and just vibing to his favorite songs with you. What he does when he misses you or finds an album that he thinks you would like or just reminds him of you is just add it to a playlist with your initials as a title. Sometimes he forgets himself and spends the whole afternoon picking perfect matches before finally sending you a link to them.

“What are you doing?” you popped on the couch next to your boyfriend, who was busy the whole evening with his phone.

Curiosity killed you and you couldn’t stand it any more so you took a look at his phone and the view didn’t surprise you that much.

“Another one?” you asked smiling at the sight of another playlist named after you.

Heeseung just turned his head to face you, showing you the purest smile ever, a short peck on the corner of your lips following that.

“You’re gonna love this one, even more than the last one,” he spoke shaking his head, proud of his song choice.

You leaned your head on his shoulder and stole a sneaky peak at his phone once again. This time he hid it from you and sent you a playful look.

“Oh nah, you have to wait until I sent it to you to find out what’s there,” he spoke and wagged his finger at you.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)

[multifandomwriter56]

As It Was

A/N: Hello! I know I've been MIA for a long time. Life has been crazy and going back to college while having a full time job has taken a lot of my time. But I'm hoping to get back to writing on this blog. I've missed it and I have missed everyone so much. I make no promises but I'm going to try.

Summary: Arthur and Y/n have always been super close; but when the boys get back from the war, things have change.

Characters: Arthur Shelby, Tommy Shelby, Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions Arthur's attempt at suicide

Word Count: 2,698

*gif is not mine*

The rumor about the men who came back from the war are not the same men that left; It’s true. No one came back the same after the war. Not a single soul.

But it wasn’t just the soldiers who changed. Those who were stuck at home, waiting for their loved ones to return. They changed too.

Y/n couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she changed. She just remembers one day realizing she’s not the little girl who loved to draw rainbows, horses, and flowers anymore. Or the little girl who taught Finn how to aim at a moving rat, even though their Aunt Polly despised them touching guns. Not even the little girl who would take walks with her favorite brother, Arthur.

Y/n would never say she has a favorite brother aloud, but she knows her family sees how close the oldest brother and youngest sister are. There may be eighteen years difference between them, but they would sometimes act like twins.

Y/n enjoys John’s company and loves his jokes. Finn, she will always protect and care for. Ada, well they clash on fashion and boys, but they would kill for one another. And Tommy, well, the two siblings have never been able to get along. Tommy had big dreams that didn’t include his baby sister. Greta wanted to change the world and wanted Tommy to help her. Y/n wanted Tommy to help take care of the family instead of spending all his time at the docks waiting for the young woman to show up.

Even at a young age, Y/n knew it would always be Tommy who would provide for the family; be their leader. She loves Arthur, but he’s more of a follower than a leader. Tommy has always had ideas and Y/n knew those ideas would help them rise in Small Heath.

So with the boys off fighting in the war, Y/n made sure to follow her brother’s orders on how to run the shop.

Polly was the only one Y/n would let stray from Tommy’s list.

“You’re ten years old, Y/n. You are not the boss and know nothing about bets.” Her aunt admonishes.

“I know enough, Polly. I have Tommy’s list and Arthur’s notes.”

“So now you’re an expert at running betting shops?”

“I wasn’t saying that.” The ten year mumbles.

“Then you’ll do your best to remember who is in charge of the business.”

Y/n knows when to stop when it comes to her aunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Y/n will admit, she learnt a lot from her aunt; not just business, but women’s business.

But now that the war is over, Y/n’s noticed how more involved Tommy is; how he keeps adding to the business.

Arthur is less present when it comes to his baby sister. They don’t go on walks anymore.

The fourteen year old moved into Arthur’s home when they came back. She wanted away from her very controlling brother and closer to the brother she knows best.

Except now, it seems that she understands Tommy more than she does Arthur.

The war may have changed all of her brothers, but something broke in Arthur. His nightmares keep her up at night and the one time she tried to wake him up, he almost choked her to death.

After that, she would either lay in her bed, listening to his screams or she would get John if the screams lasted longer than ten minutes.

“You shouldn’t be at Arthur’s alone.” Tommy tells his sister as he lit a cigarette.

“I’m not alone. Arthur is there.”

“You know what I mean, Y/n. Arthur is struggling and you being around isn’t helping.”

Y/n scoffs. “Actually, I think I help Arthur more than you can ever imagine trying to help him. You just hate that I’m not under your roof and you can’t boss me around.”

Tommy points his lit cigarette at her, his eyebrows raised in warning. “You will do as you're told or I will turn you over my knee.”

Y/n once again scoffs. Tommy has never disciplined her, he wasn’t ever around to take her in hand. That dirty task was left to their aunt. “Not only am I fourteen years old, but you have never raised a hand to me. Why start now?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n.”

Yeah, he’s bluffing, Y/n thinks. She stands to her feet. “Yes sir, Sergeant Major. If that’s all, Sergeant, I would like to finish my studies. Wouldn’t want to show up to school without my work now would we?”

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to keep arguing with his sister. He, instead, waves his hand in a dismissive gesture without even glancing up.

The day Y/n dreaded came. Arthur had tried to commit suicide by hanging himself after he fell for their father’s con. She had found him at their home, raging and destroying the room. She skillfully dodged his swings and shouted at him.

“Arthur! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” She ducks when he throws an ashtray at her head. “It’s Y/n, brother!”

“Y/n?”

The broken voice has Y/n on the verge of tears. “Yes.” She nods her head. “It’s Y/n. I’m here.” She makes her way to her brother as his knees buckle and he lands on the floor. She holds him close, his chin digging into her shoulder as he sobs.

Y/n doesn’t know how long they stay in this position but she loses feeling in her left shoulder and feet.

When Arthur finally is able to compose himself, he stands to his feet, rubbing a shaking hand through his hair.

“Arthur, what happened to your neck?”

The older man covers the deep bruise around his neck. “Nothing.”

Y/n starts to shake her head, the pieces falling together. “No, no. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave me here.” She stops talking but her head is still moving side to side; not wanting to accept that her brother, her hero, tried to kill himself.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I-”

“No!” She sharply cuts him off. “Don’t apologize. I just need a moment to process.” She sits in a chair that he hadn’t flipped yet. “I need to figure out what to do. I need- no you need some of Polly’s ointment, and a drink… yeah, yeah.” She stands to her feet, ignoring the concerned look coming from her brother. “Sit down, Arthur. I’ll pour you some whiskey and get some ointment to help with the bruising.

“Y/n, I don’t- fuck.” Arthur curses when she completely ignores him and heads for the kitchen.

Only a few minutes pass until Y/n comes back. She hands the glass of whiskey to him and starts applying the ointment.

Y/n stayed with her brother until he decided to go to bed. She heads up to her room. In the morning, she’ll tell Polly. Fuck knows what Tommy will say if he hears about this. She never knows if he will help Arthur or make it worse.

In the morning. Y/n told her aunt and she should have known her aunt would tell their fearless leader. So she wasn’t surprised to see him walk in as she hands Arthur a cup of tea.

The look Tommy sends her is clear.

She smiles softly at her eldest brother. “I will be up in my room if you need me.” She tells him, her invitation not extending to the other brother.

She heads upstairs but does not go into her room. She sits on the top step, listening as Tommy belittles their brother. She rolls her eyes. She should’ve known Tommy would never express real feelings.

“Just use a fucking gun, man.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Y/n shouts as she storms down the stairs. “That’s all you have? Next time, use a gun?”

“Leave it be, Y/n.”

Y/n glares at Arthur. “No, Arthur, I can’t just leave it be.” She turns her glare back at the brother she is upset with. “I know it’s hard for you to express feelings now, but I would rather you not say anything at all than talk to our brother that way. He deserves better.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.”

“Fuck off, Thomas!” She shouts as she steps in his space. “You only care about having Arthur around so he can beat and kill people who piss you off. That’s all that matters to the all powerful Tommy Shelby.”

The slap echoes throughout the whole house, each sibling frozen in their place.

Y/n holds a hand over her now stinging cheek, staring at the man who has never raised a hand to her. Her and Tommy may not get along but she never thought he would physically harm her. Never.

She turns to Arthur, wondering how he will react. To her surprise he’s staring at her in disappointment.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Tommy like that, Y/n. You were out of line.”

“I was out of line?” She snaps. “What am I supposed to do, Arthur, eh? Am I supposed to stand at attention and wait for the sergeant to bark orders? Huh?”

“Enough.” He doesn’t shout, but his voice still booms, causing his baby sister to flinch, preparing for another blow.

The guilt had already come, but seeing her flinch made Tommy feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n, I-” He reaches out to comfort her but stops when she steps back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me. I hate you.” She looks at Arthur. “I hate you both.”

“Let her go, Arthur.” Tommy orders when the eldest Shelby stands to follow Y/n who ran out of the house.

***

For a month, Y/n stays with John and his kids; but as much as she loves her nieces and nephews, she refuses to stay there another night.

Lizzie Stark, who’s been helping her brother with the kids, tells her to go back home, to work it out with Arthur.

“And Tommy?” The fourteen year old asks the older woman.

Lizzie smirks. “Tell him to fuck off.”

Y/n smiles at that. She hopes her brother doesn’t wait too long to give Lizzie the ring he’s been hiding.

Knowing exactly where her brother will be, Y/n heads to the Garrison. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the locked door.

“We’re closed.” Is the muffled response from the barmaid.

“It’s Y/n Shelby.” She knows that’s all she has to say for the doors to open. Grace has been kind to her since she’s started working at the pub, and Y/n appreciates that, but she doesn’t trust the barmaid. She’s not sure why, but she has a hard time believing this Irish woman just decided to move to Birmingham without a real reason.

When the door opens, she smiles politely at Grace before squeezing past her. She heads straight to the back room, knowing her eldest brother will be attempting to balance the books.

She comes to halt mere centimeters from the entrance, her heart racing. What if he really is on Tommy’s side? What if he thinks she really did deserve to be slapped? What if she’s completely lost the only person to ever love her for her?

“Gracie, is that you? You ready to help me with these numbers yet?”

Y/n laughs quietly through the breath she was holding. Who is she kidding? Arthur is one of the kindest, loving people she knows. How could he hate her… right?

“It’s me, Arthur.” She barely gets that short sentence out above a whisper.

“Y/n?”

She steps fully into the room, her arms behind her back. “Hi.”

Arthur just stares at his baby sister, the anger, the pain of not seeing her for days, and the guilt… the guilt that has literally eaten him alive, rises to the surface. His loyalty to his brother clouded his love for his sister and he will hate himself for the rest of his life.

Being a Shelby makes it hard for them to express their emotions through words. No matter the emotion, the words usually fail to spit out, but actions, they’ve never been a problem for a Shelby.

So instead of saying the words, “I’m sorry” Arthur jumps to his feet and pulls the young girl into his arms, holding as tight as he can.

And since Y/n is not only a Shelby but also able to read her brother like a book, Y/n returns the hug and her anger disappears.

“You’re coming back home, ain’t ya?”

Y/n smiles, glad she was right. “My bag is already back in my room.”

Arthur squeezes her one more time, dropping a wet kiss on top of her head before releasing her. “Good.”

Y/n goes to ask him about how he’s been but a familiar voice stops her.

“Arthur, Tommy told me to get you. Family meeting in ten.” Finn turns to his sister, hope in his eyes. “Are you back?”

Y/n had kept in touch with Finn, having him fill her in on everything that was happening while she was gone. Finn didn’t know much, but she was able to fill in the gaps on most of what he told her.

“Yes, I’m back.”

Finn smiles. “Good. Arthur’s been too emotional and Tommy’s about to shoot him if he hears him complain one more time about you not being at the family meetings.”

Y/n laughs at Finn’s blunt statement; laughing harder when Arthur spouts profanities as he takes off after the youngest Shelby. She follows the duo, figuring it’s time for her to show her faceto the rest of the family.

Her smile stays in place as they make their way to Watery Lane, listening to her brother banter back and forth about what to tell and what to keep to yourself. So far, Finn’s winning the argument.

She can feel her smile start to get smaller the closer they get to her old home; and the smile completely disappears when Arthur opens the door for her. She comes to a halt at the threshold of the betting shop, her eyes immediately on the Peaky Blinders leader.

She’s thankful he hasn’t noticed her yet, but that little comfort quickly disappears when her aunt tells him to shut up as she makes her way to her niece.

Y/n easily accepts the hug from her aunt, the woman who practically raised her, but winces when she gets a clip to her ear.

“A month is too damn long, girl.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers as Polly releases her; a small smile appears when her aunt gently caresses her cheek.

Knowing she needs to face the elephant in the room, or more commonly known as Thomas Shelby, Y/n peels her eyes off her aunt and stares straight into her brother’s eyes, hoping he can’t see the fear in them.

Compared to the other family members, Tommy is a mute when it comes to emotions. The only time words and emotions are mixed together is when he’s angry. He doesn’t say “I love you”, “I need you”, or anything that is remotely tied to emotions.

That said, the man is a master at showing his emotions through actions. One look can tell you so much about the gang leader. You just have to know how to read them; and Y/n is a master at this skill. She’s almost as good as their aunt.

So when she sees the barely noticeable nod of approval, and watches as Tommy pulls out a chair; she knows she has been welcomed back by their fearless leader.

And after she sits, he gently kisses her cheek, the same cheek he hurt a month ago, and she knows he’s asking for forgiveness.

She grasps his hand before he can pull away, giving it one good squeeze, so he knows he’s been forgiven.

They will never have a relationship like her and Arthur, or like him and Ada; but they can coexist together in their family; and that’s enough for them both.

Peaky Blinders: @psychkunox @theshelbyclan @lilymurphy03 @findinghisredrighthand

Forevers: @desiredposion @theseakrakence @simonsbluee

[canmom]

comics and animation have a lot in common, but one interesting difference is that arranging pictures in space rather than time means there's a tradeoff between the amount of drawings you use to show an action, the amount of space each drawing is given, and the amount of pages you cover which determines the 'pacing' of the comic.

if you slice the page up into a lot of tiny boxes to show many stages of a motion like an animation, then each panel has correspondingly less space for background details, and it may affect the aspect ratio of panels. if you give yourself space for a large splash panel, then the pace will slow.

one solution to this problem is to break the convention that a panel is a single 'frame' of action and show multiple images of a character in the same background. Kentaro Miura did this sometimes, and Tradd Moore (on here - @traddmoore) is an expert who uses it frequently (I'll reblog his spiderman comic in a minute). Kamome Shirahama, a genius at creative paneling, also uses it in a couple of places.

a similar trick will have a single background continuous across multiple panels, showing a static 'camera shot' at different times.

the limitation of these methods is that breaking convention makes the panel a little harder to process - you need to make absolutely sure you cue the reader clearly about where to enter the panel. and it requires action that involves a large movement so the drawings don't overlap. so most authors use it as a 'once in a while' thing.

an opposite approach, used in early parts of Superpose by Seosamh and Anka and Goodbye, Eri by Tatsuki Fujimoto, is to go even harder with the cinematic convention and give each panel the aspect ratio and detailed backgrounds of a film camera, taking all the space you need - Superpose opens with about two panels per page which may be very similar to each other, creating a very deliberate sense of pacing. to pull this off you need to be either extremely fast at drawing like Fujimoto, or accept your comic taking a long time to get anywhere - and you also need to be very good at placing the camera in space. you're basically drawing fully rendered storyboards at that point.

one of the interesting difficulties of comic-making is controlling pacing. if you draw many very similar panels it will convey a sense of high concentration and intensity, or a heavy atmosphere, like a long take in a film. much like in prose, if you spend a lot of pictures on something it draws attention to it. so you want to use the 'slow down' sparingly for effect.

as in animation, you're also limited by your own capacity to draw all those pictures, and moreover the space to put them. this is one reason why comics in magazines tend to be sharply limited in page count, and webcomics tend to be very slow compared to other forms of serial fiction. (perhaps manga can make heavier use of pacing tricks by virtue of cheaper printing and endemic overwork. i don't think that's the full story though.) meanwhile, when Transmetropolitan started to experiment with manga-style pacing, apparently it upset fans who felt the story progression was being diluted. when reading Transmet in one go, though, you don't even notice. what works well in an anthology of hundreds of pages may work poorly in a serial.

i think the pace of the reader is often controlled primarily by the text - at least for me I find I sometimes have a tendency to jump very quickly over panels to get to the next bit of the story and have to consciously slow myself down to make sure I don't fail to appreciate the art. so while a series of text-less panels is effective artistically, you might want some words to act as speed bumps. but too much text per picture and your comic becomes exhausting to read, like Subnormality. and you don't want to over-explain what's conveyed perfectly well by the pictures, as many older comics do.

ideally, you use your text, small panels and large panels to create a sense of rhythm. a big splash panel can act as the full stop in a sentence, or a longer take after a series of rapid cuts. negative space is an especially powerful device in the right hands: when you hit a page of Chainsaw Man or Berserk that is almost entirely white after several pages of dense illustration, a character bursting into the void, there's an immediate 'wow' effect before you even process what's happening in the illustration. (i can't seem to find the chainsaw man example i had in mind, so here's one from berserk.)

and on that note, the other thing that comics have that animation doesn't is the impact of being confronted with the whole gestalt page. in the manga I was helping Fall translate when she died, We Are Magical Boys (Bokura wa Mahou Shounen), Fukushima Teppei frequently puts one panel much larger than the others so it dominates the page, usually a close-up or full length character portrait, allowing the cuteness of their unique art style to treasure centre stage. Sandman, which I'm currently rereading, is full of elaborate page compositions, where a drawing might not even be a panel per se, but a visual element. Witch Hat Atelier is full of elaborate borders and clever compositions. just look at this...

how did she come up with that! the absolute madwoman! the right side is relatively standard Atelier (establishing shots, the main cast eagerly stepping out of their panel) but on the left, we have a set of panels falling down from above onto a large splash panel. even though this image is concurrent, the panels invite us to appreciate it in chunks, and the page as a whole has this great visual of the pages of a book, continuing the image of the previous page. (more of this on upcoming post on Atelier)

a character emerging from their panel to overlap others, breaking up the monotony of the grid and adding a sense of depth to the page as a whole, is a reliably appealing motif. also, drawing one panel borderless, so it implicitly continues behind the other panels. large areas of black and white and choices of colour saturation can convey a mood to the page as a whole.

the danger you run is always the loss of clarity. the reader must be able to tell what panels to read in what order without thinking about it. Sandman will sometimes do a double page spread where you're supposed to read across both pages, and this consistently trips me up. Dresden Codak is by an adhd author and her drive to give every page an elaborate layout is very familiar to me, but especially in Hob, it messes with the flow of the comic overall.

so every comic page, every comic, is a fascinating balance of all these factors. how to create a strong, visually interesting composition, control the pacing appropriate to tone, create a thrilling sense of rhythm... all without sacrificing clarity.

not much more to say about this as yet, it's just something I'm thinking about while trying to lay out a page of Ghost Barrier. my tendency is to generally use larger panels, and try to be creative with layouts, but you have to consider not just each page in isolation but how they relate to other pages. so to make the splash panel land, I need to contrast with a denser page immediately beforehand.

the more I make comics the more of a feel I'll get. cool medium!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Spencer's Choice

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, reuniting long lost love, heartbreak, impossible choice to make

Summary: Breaking up with Spencer is the hardest thing you've ever had to do. You left and returned years later, only to run into him again. Feelings return that you thought were gone. Spencer has a choice to make: you or his family.

Square Filled: goodbye letter (2021) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Ah, back in your hometown. You miss the way the sunshine feels on your skin even when the wind blowing is almost at freezing temperatures. You miss the way the cars sound as they’re rushing down the road as a reminder that people need to leave earlier when it comes to this town. You miss the small-town feeling of everyone being so close-knit that you can check up on your neighbors and see how they’re doing every day.

You miss home.

You haven’t been back in the United States in a little over a year, and back in this town for much longer. Ever since you left after you graduated, you really haven’t looked back. It killed you to do so but you were on a mission to better people’s lives with your degree and experience. You’re a very skilled architect who has been involved in many unique projects all over the world. It’s been one big adventure that you love having. You’ve met genuinely good people, tried amazing and unique food, delved into different cultures, and got to experience what others only dream about.

Now you’re just glad to be back in your hometown, relax, and spend the money you’ve been saving for years.

You walk down the familiar road next to the park you used to go to after school every day with your friends. There is something brown in the middle of the sidewalk but upon closer examination, you see it’s a child’s teddy bear. You pick it up in hopes there is a name or a number you can call, but the only thing you can find is an address. Weird. Most people don’t put their addresses on kids’ toys but who are you to judge?

With a quick Google search, you find the address is only two blocks from where you’re at. This is your chance to be a good samaritan and return the bear to a child who is probably missing it. You find the house easily and walk up the porch steps. You knock on the door and wait only ten seconds before it opens. A young girl about the age of seven is standing there with sad eyes.

“Hi, does he belong to you?” you ask and produce the bear.

Her eyes light up happily when she sees the toy. 

“Thank you so much!” she squeals and grabs it from you.

“Marissa, what did I tell you about answering the door without your mother or me?” you hear her dad say.

You look up and lock eyes with the only person you’ve ever been in love with: Spencer Reid. You two were high school sweethearts back then, and it was clear to everyone at that school that you two were going to end up together for life. You were in love with him so much and wished you could have stayed, but it broke your heart to break up with him.

You have always wanted to be an architect even when you were younger. Your parents got you Legos that you could build houses from, and you’d build all sorts of different houses with different rooms for everything a person could need. When you got to your junior year, you applied to different colleges for architecture which also included colleges outside of the United States. Never in a million years did you think you’d ever get into those colleges but your mother encouraged you to apply.

Four months before graduation, you got an amazing offer to study at UCL in London with the opportunity to be an intern side by side with one of the most famous architects at that time. What an amazing opportunity, your mother told you. Yes, it was but there was one thing holding you back: Spencer.

It started one of the biggest arguments between you two. It lasted for months leading up to graduation. He obviously didn’t want you to go since you’d be in a different country, but he didn’t want to be the only reason why you’d stay. You wanted to go because this would be an amazing opportunity for you, but you didn't want to go because you didn’t want to leave him.

It took months to come to a decision but Spencer convinced you to go. Long-distance relationships never work out for anyone, and you didn't want to put Spencer through the pain of not seeing you every day or being with you. Breaking up with him was and still is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

You’ve had a few flings over the years that never meant anything because none of them were him. It took a really long time to stop crying over him. Now, seeing him right in front of you is bringing all those fights, that love, and every conversation you’ve ever had with him back. It’s a bit overwhelming, to be honest, and you step back to ground yourself.

Marissa looks up to see her dad looking at you with the same look you’re giving him.

“You don’t look at Mommy like that,” she observes.

“Why don’t you go inside and play? I’ll be right there,” Spencer says distractedly.

Marissa looks at you and goes inside to play with her teddy bear. Spencer steps outside and closes the front door for some privacy.

“I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now.”

This isn’t a good idea. You’re going to start crying because the truth is, and you’ve tried so hard to bury it, you’re still in love with him. If you don’t get out of here quickly, the patch over your heart is going to tear and you’re going to start bleeding all over again.

“I’m sorry. I can’t be here right now. I have to go.”

You turn around and walk down the porch steps, but Spencer jumps toward you.

“Wait.” You turn to face him and he sighs in frustration. “I have to get Marissa to the doctor. How long are you in town for?”

“As long as I want. I’m in between projects right now.”

Maybe the reason why you told him this is for the false hope that you two can resume right where you left off.

“Please don’t leave. Please meet with me for coffee tomorrow morning. You remember Jack’s Cafe, right?” How could you not? It’s the place where you and Spencer had your first date and first kiss. “My number hasn’t changed if you still have it.”

“I do,” you whisper.

He never changed it in hopes that you’d call it. You got home after parting ways with him and cried yourself to sleep. Seeing him again after all these years is reverting your mind back to high school graduation. You’re not much better the next day. When you wake up, you decide you’re not going to meet Spencer and just leave. However, when you look at past messages between the two of you on your phone, he deserves this meeting. You deserve to catch up with him.

You rush into the coffee shop knowing you’re late. Spencer is sitting at the table you two used to sit in every single time you went here.

“I thought you weren't going to show,” he says when you sit across from him.

“Honestly, I almost didn’t.”

Spencer slides a coffee over to you and you catch it to prevent it from falling. Just based on the smell alone, you know he still remembers your coffee order.

“How have you been? Any interesting projects you’ve been on?”

You don’t know if the small talk is good or not. It’s to distract you from the real issue but you welcome the distraction.

“Yeah, I’ve done some work in third-world countries with nonprofit organizations. We’ve built homes for people, homeless shelters, and enclosures for animals who are suffering and endangered.”

“That’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.”

“What about you?”

“I pursued my career in the FBI. I have been a profiler for many years. I’m retired now and get to teach others before they go into the academy.”

“Retired? You’re still so young. What happened?” you ask and sip your coffee.

“I went to prison for a couple of months for a crime I didn’t do. It messed with me mentally so I decided to take a different approach. I’m still involved with the FBI just as a teacher.”

Once you two get into the groove of talking, it’s like no time has passed. You’re laughing and having a good time with him as if you didn’t break his heart all those years ago. You’re falling in love with him all over again.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Just like that, you’re back to how you were feeling before. The laughter dies off and you pick at the ends of your sweater.

“No. I haven’t had a steady relationship since--” You stop yourself from saying it out loud. He understands what you’re trying to say. He reaches over and grabs your hand. As soon as he makes contact with your skin, you quickly pull away from him. “You have a family.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You look happy.”

“Yeah, I am.”

His words tell you one thing but his tone tells you something completely different. There is a longing in his eyes that suggests he would drop everything in his life if it meant he got to be with you.

“I’m really happy for you,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“Y/N…”

“I shouldn’t have come here. You have a wife and daughter now.” You drop your voice to a whisper. “I’m too late.”

You’re already out the door before Spencer can process your words. Not only was coming to this coffee date a bad idea, but coming back to your hometown where Spencer also lives was an even worse idea. The projects waiting for your involvement will have to come a little earlier than planned.

You hate doing this to Spencer but you write a letter explaining how you feel about him and this whole situation. Once you’re done, you head to his house hoping he isn’t going to be there. You walk up the steps and notice something in the window next to the door. Spencer is sitting on the couch next to his wife and she’s comforting her. About the botched date? About you? About something else?

Damn it. Why did she have to be gorgeous?

You stick the note in the door and swiftly turn to leave. Spencer sniffles and looks up to see your long hair flowing in the wind. At first, he thought he was seeing things but then his brain caught up to the rest of him. By the time he walks out there, you’re already gone. Your note sways to the ground so he picks it up and starts reading it.

Spencer, 

I am so sorry for the way we left things all those years ago. Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and hurting you was never my intention. I love you with all my heart and wish things had ended differently between us. You have a family now that I never wanted to disturb. I kind of thought by coming back here, I’d be reminded of what’s really important. Seeing you after all these years did just that. I don’t want to hurt you now, but I’m leaving. I’ll be accepting other projects that need me, and you can continue to be with your family. I wish you the very best.

Y/N

Spencer can’t let you go this easily without letting you know how he feels. He tells his wife he’s going over to Derek’s house but ends up going to the biggest airport in the state. It’s the airport that has the most flights coming and going so you have to be here. He doesn’t know which flight you’re going to get on so he buys a ticket for one of them and hope for the best.

He rushes through the entire airport in search of you, wishing you hadn’t gotten on one of the airplanes yet. He’s sweaty and disheveled but determined to find you before you board. He runs around the corner and scans the many gates with people boarding their planes. There at the far end of the building is you. You’re in line to get on the plane.

“Y/N!” Spencer yells.

You don’t hear him and move up in the line. Spencer breaks out in a run in hopes of getting to you in time. You hand the attendant your ticket so she can check you in. She doesn’t question the dried tears on your cheeks as she does. Once finished, you grab your ticket and walk onto the bridge.

“Y/N! Wait!”

Spencer runs past everyone and tries to get onto the bridge but the two attendants posted there prevent him from going in.

“Sir, you need to wait in line like everyone else.”

“Please, I just have to talk to her.”

“Sir, I can’t let you on there without a proper ticket.”

“Y/N!!!” Spencer screams to get your attention, hoping you’re not too far away. He waits agonizingly for you to show up. He’s about to yell again when you come around the corner with tears in your eyes. “Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

“Spencer,” you gasp. You leave the bridge and take him off to the side. People stare but go about their business to give you two some privacy. “What are you doing here?”

“Please don’t leave.”

“But your family--”

“Please don’t leave. I can’t bear to watch you walk away again. I let you go once. I can’t--refuse--to let you walk away again.”

Spencer grabs your face and kisses you like he should have done all those years ago. You get lost in the way he’s making you feel so you kiss him back. It feels so good to feel his lips on yours again. He feels like home. The image of him and his wife pops up in your head, and you pull away from him with tears streaming down your face.

“What about your wife? Your daughter?”

“I don’t know but please don’t leave. I love you.”

He’s only here because of the feelings you drudged up. He was happy before you came back into his life.

“I can’t do this right now. I have to get on the plane.”

“Please don’t get on that plane,” he begs.

“Miss? Are you getting on? We’re taking the last call,” the attendant asks.

“Spencer, I have to get on the plane. They’re waiting for me.” You step away from him even though it kills you to. “You have a family now. Maybe if I never left before, things might have been different. I can’t do that to them.”

You hand your ticket to the attendant even though she allows you to go through. Spencer watches you get on the plane, and the attendant shuts and locks the door behind you. Spencer has a very important choice to make:

Does he go back to his family and pretend this never happened or follow you? Stay with what’s comfortable or follow the one woman who has always made him feel alive? Her or you?

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[yandere-sins]

What do you think would happen if Hephaestus and Ares were after the same darling? Honestly I’m over here wondering if Aphrodite is going to get involved. That is her husband and lover we’re talking about here.

I love this! Thank you for requesting ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««      

♡ The other gods are way ahead of Hephaestus when it comes to having and taking care of a darling for many reasons. So when he does take a follower of his as a companion, it's a big topic on Olympus. Everyone is endlessly curious to see who he has taken a liking to. However, they realize very quickly that while he's not mistreating his darling, he treats you differently than they would.

♡ Mainly, you have too much freedom. Clearly, you have your own mind, even when sitting next to the god who chose you, telling him 'no' when you don't want to eat or drink what he offers you, and when other gods talk to you, you never ask for permission from him before replying. Your clothes are partially stained by ash, which is quite a display between all the neat, clean darling. Like master, like men.

♡ But regardless, they can see what you mean to him. You wear more fine jewelry than even the gods do, much less the darlings on their laps. And even in your defiant freedom and dirty clothes, you seem to be outright shining. It's no wonder some gods gulp at the sight of you while they scowl at their fellow god, Hephaestus still unable to do right in their eyes, even though you seem to be content.

♡ There are a few head's you turned that night, but to no one's surprise, Aphrodite is seething in her seat, unable to share her husband no matter how she feels about him. She hates how much he adorns and adores you, showing you off with her paling in comparison. Even though the gods don't swear complete loyalty to each other (much less those two), she can't find it in her to share the spotlight with such an ill-behaved darling as you are. It only worsens when she notices that Ares, too, seems interested in 'treating you better' than Hephaestus does. Strong-willed individuals have always intrigued him. Seeing you live by your own devices rather than following everything Hephaestus tells you to does the trick for him.

♡ You are definitely the talk on Olympus, but once you return 'home', you couldn't be less bothered by it. There, you only have to do the housework if necessary, care for Hephaestus, listen to him, and otherwise occupy yourself while your god is working the days away. You are alone but not lonely. You had to come to terms with your situation, no matter how much you miss being a mere human. But knowing how the other darlings are treated, you try to keep it together to avoid ending up like them. So you don't expect visitors to knock on your door one day while you're alone.

♡ Much less do you expect a charming, flirtatious god to intrude into your private space. Considering your position, there's little you can do but be welcoming. However, even as you run around to prepare some ambrosia, you always have Ares's unwavering fixation on you. It doesn't take him long to get to the point of his visit, questions about if you are unhappy and feeling like you're lacking something in your life leaving his lips as soon as he forces you to sit down with him. 

♡ Even though he murmurs his words gently, purring them into your ear, Ares feels off. His hand lingers on your body, pushing back your hair or sliding down your arm. Until eventually, with his breath holding, he links your fingers with his, pulling your hand into his lap. Everything he does seems inappropriate for a Priestess of another god, much too intimate, so it leaves you uncomfortable. You have to obey his whims, but it still feels wrong. Even if you tell him you're fine, he doesn't give up. He pulls you back against his side and cages you between his arm and body, asking the same questions repeatedly until you crack. When you finally admit something silly, like wishing you had a certain meal or see your family again. That's enough confirmation for him that you are clearly not cared for, and as such, he asks you to change your devotion since Ares can take so much better care of you.

♡ There's a moment of wavering inside you as he swears to you how he will always look out for your needs and do what he can to make your position by his side as comfortable as possible. You saw his darlings, the defiant, furious expressions etched into their faces while Ares forced them on his lap and to serve him. The way they seemed to want to stab his weapons into his body as he made them hold them while he carelessly celebrated. You didn't know what happened to them behind closed doors, but they didn't seem happy. His promises sounded too good, knowing that his darlings hated him with a passion. And even if... did you really want to change your constant peace and freedom with Hephaestus into servitude for another god? You'd never be completely rid of them no matter what you did, but would there be a better god to serve as one that wasn't as demanding of you?

♡ The decision is taken from you as Hephaestus unexpectedly shows up, bursting through the door. The scowl he's giving you makes you feel like you did something wrong, even though it's clear from your tense body that this isn't your doing at all. Thankfully, he immediately latches onto Ares, yelling and hissing about rules you had never heard about before. About manners and overstepping. Nevertheless, Hephaestus pushes you behind him protectively as he goes face to face with the God of War, who's grinning about the challenge like the hot-headed god he is. You can just stare in silence as the two taunt each other, mock each other's way of handling their darlings, not really catching all the insults. But for the first time, you truly experience a god's anger, leaving you with shaking legs and tears burning in your eyes. You never wanted to see gods fight—much less over you.

♡ And that's when she swoops in. Whether Aphrodite waited for the perfect opportunity or passed by on accident, she wastes no time approaching you. Getting to your eye level, she doesn't seem to mind the ash on the floor, cooing and soothing you as she reaches out her hand invitingly, beckoning you closer. "You poor thing, look at these ruffians," she sighs apologetically, and you flinch as things get heated between the others, confirming your feelings to her. Compared to the other two, Aphrodite feels safe. She hugs you and reassuringly brushes a hand over your head, calmly telling you everything will be okay. While she allows you to hide behind her, she puts a temporary stop to the arguing gods, calling them out and telling them to look at how scared you are and how pathetic they both are to fight in front of such a fragile, sweet things like you. She also declares that she'll take you with her until they finish their silly argument. Clearly, they are both incapable of taking care of you, so that's the only logical thing.

♡ You don't feel so good leaving with Aphrodite, but she holds your hand tightly as she pulls you after her, with no room to wiggle out from. Catching a glimpse at Hephaestus's face, you can see genuine misery as you are taken away, regret flashing over his features as he seems to want to go after you. But Ares opens his mouth again before Hephaestus can step away, and his expression turns into more anger, directed at Ares, who is huffing and grinding his teeth as he watches you leave. You can still hear their arguments and yelling even after Aphrodite closes the front door behind you, picking you up as your steps become sloppy and not fast enough for her. "I can treat you so much better than these two blockheads," she assures you. "You won't have to worry about a thing as long as you're with me." It doesn't have the calming effect she might think it does, especially not when she adds on to her words, revealing what she planned to do with you all along.

♡ "I'll make sure you're well-trained and cared for. And when I'm done with you, we can talk about you devoting yourself to me—forever."

[who1ssheesh]

NSFW Xanxus with s/o? 👀

Xanxus NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: seks and swearing; fem!reader; huge OOC; 100% wrong grammar, english still is not my native (it will be one day is this how it works idk); no beta we die like tyl tsuna

Note: tbh, this is really short since I'm still holding back my filthiest thoughts?? The add-on section with sub Xus can be NOT considered serious but those make me raaaaaaaaaawrrr aooga

• Fucking horndog end of the story leave lieks uwu

• No really, he riles up in a second and in the most inconvenient situations. And if you don’t give him what he wants, Xanxus will be very broody for the whole day. Good luck, you will need one ngl

• Xanxus obviously likes (LOOVES) seeing you in revealing tight clothes, this bitch will drop stuff on purpose just to see your bottom if you're wearing a short skirt that day. He will not hide it, man will just be sitting with the nastiest smile, and you know you have to get that thing up since he won’t

• More of a thighs and ass type tbh. Any breast is good if he can see a nice cleavage.

• I really imagine Xanxus as a big juicy man despite Amano’a art style. His thighs worth dying between, his tiddies look heavy I can hold them bb. And I think he also enjoyed someone not really slim? He loves something to GRAB

• Not even in a sexual way. He will always grab your ass even around people and he can't even give you a coherent answer why. He just stares zero brain head empty - he can't admit out loud he loves your body, what a loser

• HUGE size kink. The nastiest, craziest size kink, he is going to be feral with a small s/o like he really means to snap them in half

• Also has a big dick, so……..can’t complain

• Choke him. Never in your life you can even choke him a little bit, but Xanxus appreciates the effort. Your both fragile feminine hands cannot do anything against him and even grab his neck fully, and that feeling of power over you gets him going.

• Then you feel his hot touch around your throat. He is going to show you how it is done

• Enjoys the fight. Someone too obedient is not his type at all, he gets bored quickly, he loves his girlie to has temperament. Scratch him, grab him, bite him and never hold back. Xanxus enjoys smell of blood, seeing your marks all over him after

• Touch. His. Scars. I’m sorry for involving feelings, but he will like it

• You can never dumbfound him with love-bombing btw. Unlike SOMEONE ahemsqualoahem

“I-i love you”

“Yeah, who doesn’t”

But he still thinks that’s lame and kills the mood

• Yes to power play but GOD FUCK NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET THE FUCK OUT YOU FREAK to Daddy kink. He has too much going on with parents and has big issues, especially with fathers. But props to being the first person Xanxus calls a freak

• Get on your knees for him and he’s so WEAK

• Speaking of weak. Xanxus thinks too much with his dick, and you won’t have much problem convincing him about something through a good blowjob (or sex in general). He knows your trick but doesn’t mind, since he’s had a good time, nay? Though sometimes he’ll fuck around and just go away “well, bye now”

• Corruption kink and no one will convince me otherwise. Having a confident skilled woman is good. But how about the most stoic, morally right woman turned into the filthiest nastiest whore just for him? Bonus point if she's a virgin, something clicking in his head. Xanxus enjoys the fact he's one and only or at least, if you break up, he's still your first and no other man will satisfy you she same way (those are his words, not mine)

• Such a dirty talker. But usually Xanxus tries to get an answer from you and just laughs and your fucked-out pathetic state. He won't stop until your eyes are glossy and absolutely empty, his dick is the only thing on your mind.

• Xanxus is shameless but still gets really angry when you two get caught. HOT TAKE. It's not about him btw, he doesn't give a shit about being seen with some one-night-stand but YOU as his partner are different. He wants people hear you and know how good he's making you feel, he wants then to see how hot, awesome, smart, pretty, confident you are BUT! Xanxus is the only one who sees you in the nastiest, most vulnerable state.

• Hot take again - he's not against eating you out. First - being between juicy thick thighs worth dying for, second - he again turns it into a dominating moment, where HE decides if you're having an orgasm.

Secret-secret headcanons I myself BELIEVE

• Sit on his face. Xanxus will act like a bitch but in the end you will notice he likes it WAY too much and even has some shade of pink on his cheeks

• Just try to dominate him in general. Use the same dirty words he uses for you, don't be scared to insult him. You both are too fucked up and horny at this moment anyways, Xanxus' brain won't even comprehend what you are telling him and that actually he's supposed to get angry

• Xanxus didn't know this is his kink - a beast being tamed, huh?

• After the first time this idiot didn't even talk to you, trying to process what the hell happened. But seeing you the same as always, still treating him as a big smart boss, and that's what everyone believes, makes him hard instantly.

• Xanxus doesn't like sex toys at all (he can make you see stars without any help) but JUST MAYBE that's the first time you get whips? Question mark?

• Nah, he won't just become suddenly submissive, that's not the point. He will insult you, bite you, scratch, choke you, fight against you. If you can't handle him, you don't deserve him in this state, okay?

[antialiasis]

Chess (2018 Kennedy Center revival)

So I was just going to briefly mention all the other different versions of Chess I have consumed in the big essay post I’ve been writing on and off, but there was just too much to say about this one which made it really awkward to fit it in, so fine, here is another individual chesspost. Nearly 7500 words of rambling under the cut, oh my god.

This production represents the latest official full overhaul of Chess. It sports an all-new book written by Danny Strong, also known as the actor who played Jonathan on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is some whiplash (Sarah Michelle Gellar is apparently a big Chess fan, too). It was later staged again as a concert with some further modifications in 2021, but I listened to an audio bootleg of the 2018 version. (There exist some videos of it online, but only scattered bits.)

The Story Changes

This version has London’s basic plot structure with the distinctive two chess tournaments (this time four years apart, which is neither the original number nor the actual number of years between world chess championships), but rearranges Act I, adds a lot more quippy dialogue and swearing, reinterprets the characters, and recenters real-world politics in the whole thing — sort of the exact inverse of what Chess på svenska did with the material. It opens with “Difficult and Dangerous Times” to set the scene in the Cold War and features the Arbiter narrating with sardonic omniscient commentary between songs/scenes throughout, which does feel a bit more consistent than the Arbiter suddenly having a narrator role for the duration of one song in Act II.

All the main characters in this version are reinterpreted with significant new background context, which is a very interesting way to rewrite it that I definitely dig in principle. For example, Florence’s first scene here involves Walter threatening her with deportation from the US unless she can make Freddie behave for the duration of the tournament. Most versions of Chess make the political scheming very symbolic and vague — exchanges of mostly unnamed political prisoners or handwaved concessions — but this version is noticeably specific, with specific nuclear arms treaty negotiations that the CIA believes would be negatively affected if Freddie keeps openly antagonizing the Soviets. She tells Walter to go fuck himself (told you it adds more swearing) and that nobody can control Freddie Trumper, but ultimately she doesn’t have much of a choice but to reluctantly play along. This addition recontextualizes her character and her interactions with Freddie in Act I a fair bit — it’s pretty significant, after all, that she is under threat and may lose her home if she doesn’t somehow control what she really can’t.

Meanwhile, Freddie himself here suffers from a full-on mental illness which he takes medication for. Walter asserts on a phone call early that they’re dealing with a “genuine paranoid schizophrenic”, but then later calls him a “bipolar bitch”; I take the blatant inconsistency combined with the obviously insulting nature of these remarks to mean probably we’re not meant to take either of them at face value, but these two lines from Walter are the only ones suggesting any specific diagnosis. (I unfortunately suspect Danny Strong didn’t have a specific condition in mind and research it so much as just slap him with a Generic Ambiguous Mental Illness for which he takes Pills.) One way or another, Freddie’s ambiguous mental illness gives him bouts of intense paranoia, driving him to do things like trashing his and Florence’s hotel room to look for listening devices at one point. Florence keeps insistently, frustratedly telling him to just take his goddamn pills even as he’s in genuine distress; it’s pretty uncomfortable, and also definitely one of those things that are at least more human when his episodes could cost her the only home she has: she’s desperate and in distress too.

(I do kind of feel as if this whole bit would make more sense if Florence and Freddie had a strictly business relationship here to start with, instead of being explicitly portrayed as a couple — when they have a committed intimate partnership going on, one would think Florence getting deported would also be pretty obviously significant for Freddie, and Florence quietly playing along with the CIA and crossing her fingers that she can indirectly coax him into behaving with seemingly no serious thought given to whether it’d be better to just tell him why he needs to stop feels stranger. The scene with Walter sounds like Walter/the CIA are not aware of their romantic relationship and Florence wants to keep it that way — they both refer to Freddie strictly by his full/last name and as “her player” — so I guess Walter would have assumed she wouldn’t tell him, but surely the calculus would at least look a bit different to Florence herself. Even if it just prompts her to realize Freddie would still be liable to react by becoming even more erratic and vocal about his paranoias, that feels like it’d be significant enough, at least for her feelings on this relationship going forward, that it never actually coming up or being suggested within the story starts to feel marginally odd. Not a major complaint, though, just a bit of overthinking.)

Freddie in general is noticeably portrayed much more sympathetically here than usual throughout. Where other versions of Chess tend to present Freddie as an attention-seeking drama queen who plays up ludicrous arbitrary demands for money and press, here things like his walkout from the first chess game are made to come from a much more genuine place: he has major sensory issues and is intolerably thrown off balance by distracting noise and lights (which really are deliberately arranged to sabotage him). “Florence Quits”, the song with the misogyny verse, usually reads as being triggered by his jealousy and inability to accept that Anatoly’s just playing better than him, but this version makes it feel more about how he feels persistently gaslit about the ways he’s being sabotaged than anything else: he accuses the Soviets of having a hypnotist in the front row to throw him off (which they do, and Freddie literally saw him and recognized him) and Florence of working for the CIA (which she has been, if not by choice) while they deny it and brush it off, and the tense opening notes of the song play under him desperately yelling “You’re lying to me! You’re all lying to me!” (Which doesn’t make the misogyny okay, obviously, but it does make it feel more like a desperate, paranoia-fueled lashout where you don’t know how much he really means all that.)

When he subsequently forfeits the match against Anatoly, he makes a speech that sounds absolutely despairing where he says chess has been taking a toll on his health since he first became champion at eleven years old, and he doesn’t feel he can trust anyone, even himself. In Act II, before “The Interview”, he even actually apologizes to Florence for how he treated her; heck, his motivation for going so hard after Anatoly in “The Interview” itself is portrayed as being that he is genuinely disgusted by Anatoly leaving his family so callously (which is a lot of fun given Freddie’s own issues about his father leaving him and his mother behind) and wants Florence to hear the truth about what a despicable man he is, which is still unpleasant to her but clearly comes from a much more sympathetic place than either simple spite or reluctantly complying with Walter’s orders.

As for Anatoly… he was taken from his parents when he was a small child to be groomed by Molokov and the KGB into becoming a chess champion, and he’s well aware from his very first scene that the state had killed the previous Soviet champion after Freddie unseated him. (Freddie excoriates the press early on for not covering why the former champion disappeared off the face of the Earth because they’re too busy bashing Freddie, which sounds like paranoia, but the narrative has actually told us Freddie is right and they really did execute him but no one but Freddie seems to notice or care — another way in which Freddie is jarringly sympathetic here. In general, Freddie is portrayed as paranoid, and the other characters treat him like he’s just paranoid, but the narrative keeps proving Freddie’s paranoia right.)

Anatoly, though, isn’t afraid of the same fate, because “The state cannot execute a man… that is already dead.” (This general sentiment could press my buttons, but it just feels super corny and melodramatic the way it’s presented and performed, especially with that dramatic pause in there.) He is deeply depressed, thinks his marriage to Svetlana is fake and his kids hate him, and says repeatedly in Act I that he hates chess and just wants to be free of it, though he also describes a particular championship match he watched as the only time he’s felt love. At the end of Act I, he defects to the UK along with Florence as usual (his defection fully blows up the treaty Walter was worrying about despite Anatoly’s victory, so Florence’s refugee visa is indeed revoked, and that’s why they end up in the UK). Theoretically he should be free of chess now, but it bothers him intensely that he only won by forfeit (here they never finished playing a single match), resulting in him returning to defend his world champion title, and win it ‘properly’, four years later in Bangkok against Viigand.

Unknown to Anatoly, by Act II, after the election of Ronald Reagan, the Soviets are extra on edge and believe a planned NATO military exercise is actually the US mobilizing for a full-scale invasion of the Soviet Union. Walter tries to convince Molokov it’s just an exercise; Molokov insists unfortunately the generals are going to believe it’s an invasion and be ready to retaliate unless Viigand wins the championship (if Viigand wins they will take it as a ‘sign of goodwill’ from the US, which will change their minds on the apparent invasion because, uhh, unclear). Throughout Act II, the larger stakes in this version are set up to be that if Anatoly should win the match, the Soviets are liable to start a nuclear war.

Does Walter go to Anatoly to frankly tell him that apparently the Soviets have lost their minds and are basically threatening nuclear war over a chess match and try to convince him to throw on that basis? Does Molokov realize that if he’s telling Walter to go rig the chess match so the generals will call it off, he clearly doesn’t actually believe that the US is about to invade, so probably he should be trying to convince the generals not to go for the nuclear option himself? No, of course not; this is Chess, so we have to have the songs that are in Chess. So instead, Walter and Molokov just go through the same indirect schemes as usual to unbalance Anatoly and convince him to throw the game, with some minor twists. Molokov actually actively threatens Svetlana with being sent to a gulag to die if she doesn’t convince her husband to return — and Svetlana does straight-up tell Anatoly this, only for Anatoly to brush her off and tell her they won’t do that. Florence learns the same from Walter and initially dismisses him, and fully doesn’t believe him about her father being alive, but does ultimately sympathize with Svetlana and worry for her, which I like. But Anatoly is obsessed with winning this championship above all else and fully convinced Molokov is bluffing.

In the end, he plays the game to win, oblivious to the nuclear threat; as he checkmates, Walter makes a desperate phone call to his superiors to call off the training exercise. (Why he didn’t just do that immediately when Molokov told him the Soviets were taking it as an attack, instead of spending all this time playing along with this elaborate chess mind game, is a mystery.) Only… they don’t, and the Soviets watch with their fingers on the nuclear button, but ultimately they don’t fire. The Arbiter’s narration informs us this was the closest the world ever came to destruction, even closer than the Cuban missile crisis, and that this then served as the wake-up call that prompted negotiations about nuclear deescalation.

Anatoly, meanwhile, returns to the Soviet Union as usual, this time successfully exchanging himself for Florence’s imprisoned father, and Walter gives Florence and her father visas so that they can return to the US together.

Broad thoughts

I feel profoundly weird about the mixing of real-life history and completely fictitious alternate history here — you can’t just assert in narration that the fictional events in your musical were what taught the US and Soviet Union that maybe they should just talk to each other, while making a specific comparison to an actual thing that really happened, after spending the musical asserting that the Soviets murdered chess players for losing the world championship. I think mixing history and fiction can work fine if we can imagine that for all we know this is what really happened, or alternatively that this is what might have happened in some alternate universe similar to but distinct from ours. But here, we’re creating highly significant and publicized events that are obviously fictional, making it absurd to pretend this is what really happened, while also presenting these fictional alternate-universe events in objective hindsight narration alongside real events that happened in the real world and as a supposed cause of them. This ending narration just feels like it’s weirdly trying to have its cake and eat it too.

All in all, though, I think this is definitely one of the most interesting efforts to rewrite Chess. It definitely has something it’s going for, there are several neat ideas in it, and in particular I appreciate that it tries to give extra attention to the characters, more context to their actions, and more messy, humanized depth, inner conflict, and complicated motivators and stressors behind what they do. I genuinely enjoy what it’s doing with Freddie in Act I, in particular, even though it feels somehow both jarringly like it’s woobifying him (I genuinely think he ends up coming across as the most sympathetic of the three mains here, with so much of his erratic, childish and unpleasant behaviour being recontextualized to be more understandable and the way his hatred of the Soviets keeps being validated by the narrative) and like the narrative is weirdly harsh on him (this much more sympathetic Freddie who suffers from an actual mental illness is treated like absolute irredeemable scum by every other character including the fourth-wall-leaning narrator, even more than usual).

I also think the restructuring of Act I was pretty solid for the most part, though there’s definitely some awkwardness, like how Freddie’s expanded encounters with the press sort of clumsily repeat the same beats a bit. On the one hand, I can get what Danny Strong was going for in choosing to introduce everyone first and then go into “Merano” instead of doing several minutes of narrative meaninglessness before the main characters are even introduced; on the other hand, that kind of just half-defeats the sole original purpose of “Merano”, which is to provide a very jaunty more stereotypical musical theater song so that Freddie can be introduced via barging in and interrupting it with his very different vibe, and if I were Danny Strong I would definitely have just removed “Merano” at that point. But the “Difficult and Dangerous Times” opening works great, and it nicely avoids the “almost nothing of note happens for nearly forty minutes” and “several meaningless fluff songs in a row” problems of the London script, introducing conflict and stakes early and keeping the narrative going.

Ultimately, though, a lot of what it’s trying to do doesn’t quite come together to me, and some of it is variously misguided or just strange.

The Politics

To start with, I can definitely get wanting to emphasize the role of Cold War politics in the narrative, and I basically enjoyed the increased political focus and higher stakes in Act I — but I don’t think making Anatoly unwittingly almost start a nuclear war works here, or fits properly into this narrative at all. The Soviet generals have to be holding idiot balls; Molokov has to be holding an idiot ball; Walter has to be holding the biggest idiot ball of all; and most importantly, the ludicrously massive stakes being pasted on top of the match despite none of the main characters even knowing about it means we zoom thoroughly out of the character drama of the situation: “Endgame” just becomes grotesquely trivial with that hanging over it without Anatoly’s knowledge, rendering the actual drama of the climactic song completely irrelevant to what’s really at stake.

I also dislike, in a version that emphasizes the politics, how distinctly slanted it is. One of the things that I like in the London strain of Chess is that Walter and Molokov are both slimy, manipulative bastards in different ways, both sides’ political actors cruelly toying with the lives of the players for their own impersonal ends; the righteousness of each state as a whole doesn’t really matter to this story, only the impact that the whole conflict and the mutual scheming has on the main characters’ lives. But in this version, the Soviets and Molokov are cartoon villains who literally abduct children to force them into chess camp and then murder them if they don’t win the world championship, while Walter may be a condescending asshole who’s willing to threaten Florence but is distinctly the ‘good guy’ in his interactions with Molokov, which comprise most of his screentime, especially in Act II. Walter even gets a humanizing moment where he explains he has a nine-year-old son and has nightmares about him suffering a nuclear winter (Molokov, meanwhile, tells Walter in Act I that Anatoly is like a son to him but could not more obviously not care about Anatoly at all when he proudly presents his new champion material Viigand in Act II). I just find it really detrimental to Chess’s narrative to make it about Soviets Bad, US Good, and more so the more you focus on that — to whatever extent you highlight the politics in this story, it should be done in a way that’s about how the political machinations of the Cold War impact the character drama at the center of it, and it’s distracting when instead you make it into a loosely related B-plot about Walter’s desperate diplomatic efforts to stop the evil Soviets from destroying the world with their shortsightedness.

I think a successful more politically-focused Chess could definitely exist, but I think it’s always going to function best if Walter and Molokov feel at least narratively like just about equal scumbags. It’s not even impossible to imagine nuclear weapons and mutually assured destruction coming up in the course of it — but it needs to be using that to make us enraged at all of this on behalf of Anatoly/Florence/Svetlana/Freddie, not enraged at Molokov on behalf of Walter.

The Character Work

Meanwhile, I do basically like the setup and recontextualization done for all of the main characters in Act I, but unfortunately none of them quite delivered as well as I hoped in the end.

Let’s start with Florence. I actually quite liked the deportation threat, putting Florence herself under personal pressure in a way she usually isn’t. I dig characters being put through the wringer and making decisions under stress. But the story doesn’t quite do anything with that other than using it as silent context behind her early interactions with Freddie and technically as the reason she and Anatoly move to the UK offscreen. We don’t, for instance, ever see Freddie learn that that’s why she moved or that he was unwittingly indirectly responsible for that, or otherwise address that in any way, and as far as Florence in the rest of the story is concerned, it might as well never have happened — we never see her having any kinds of feelings on it, or even confronting Walter about that nasty little part he played in her life when she meets him again (she doesn’t even comment on it when he offers her the chance to go back to the US at the end!). To an extent this is, of course, because Florence being deported was never originally part of the story of Chess, so of course it doesn’t come up in any song or have any significant specific impact on the core series of events — but if you’re going to add it in at all, you really ought to be taking that somewhere in the rest of your additions that isn’t just briefly handwaving that she gets to go back at the end.

Like Long Beach, this version brings Florence’s father back at the end — but unfortunately, it feels really unearned here. Compared to other London variants, it actually ditches the bit of “The Deal” where Florence is tangibly emotional and riled up by Walter’s offer of her father — she fully dismisses the idea of her father being alive as bullshit, and instead it’s Svetlana who moves her to have doubts when she sees her begging Anatoly to return on video and realizes Svetlana still loves him. I do really like that, by itself, and it’s probably my favorite thing about this version’s portrayal of Florence; her empathizing with Svetlana to the point of feeling genuinely guilty for having taken her husband from her, and believing maybe the right thing to do would be if he went back to Svetlana for her sake, is actually very good, serves as a great lead-in to “I Know Him So Well”, and makes Florence’s character feel far more sympathetic in a production where she’s otherwise pretty lacking in that department. But it leaves us with no emotional connection whatsoever to Florence’s father — we’ve only heard her mention him twice before Walter’s offer, very briefly, in Act I, and not really with any sense that she misses or is all that invested in him. Seeing her reunite with him means nothing for her or her arc; it just comes out of left field, and winds up being another thing slanting this version towards Good Guy Walter, Bad Guy Molokov, what with Walter offering her visas back to the US for both of them seemingly out of the goodness of his heart.

It would have been possible to actually build up to this in a way that would make it satisfying. Florence and Anatoly have several conversations; we could have used some of those to have Florence actually talk about her father and how she feels about him being gone, and that could have been part of building up her relationship with Anatoly, made it meaningful that Anatoly’s parting gift to her is to ensure her father’s return. I suppose Danny Strong’s thought process may have been that if he built up Florence’s father too much, that should become her main concern once Walter brings that into it, and he wanted her concern to be about Svetlana instead, which I guess is fair; it also means Anatoly only really has to dismiss the potential harm to one other person in his obsession with winning the game. But if you do make the decision to not build up her father, then bringing her father back is not an ending that makes any sense, and there was no need to do this — they could have easily cut out all suggestion of her father being alive entirely and it would only have made things smoother. I think the only reason she gets her father back in this one is in some hasty effort to make Florence’s ending less bleak, but because it doesn’t have any emotional resonance, it’s just not the right way to do that here.

Speaking of Florence and Anatoly, the romance here… once again has some neat, interesting things it’s going for but doesn’t quite come together as a whole. The two of them do have some actual conversations where they bond a bit, which is already a marked improvement over the default London script — but their very first conversation features Anatoly asserting out of nowhere that Florence has “a way of brightening his spirit”, despite not even knowing her, which isn’t super convincing and just comes off kind of creepy-awkward. Florence asserts a few times that he’s sweet and kind, but we don’t really see much of him actually coming across as sweet or kind — his lines tend to be either melodramatic or sardonic moping interspersed kind of jarringly with awkward jokes. He’s less charming or sweet and more like a lonely, kicked dog, which is fine if Florence is into that but doesn’t quite make her descriptions of why she likes him ring true.

This production actually goes back to the concept album a bit when it comes to Florence and Anatoly — namely, more than political manipulation and external pressures forcibly tearing them apart from the outside, there’s a more substantial internal tension between them as Anatoly genuinely simply prioritizes winning the chess match over her and dismisses her as she tries to question him about Svetlana. The two approaches can both work but do different things for the narrative; this internal approach puts more focus on the personal conflict and character drama and makes the relationship more interesting, which is definitely good, and in principle I think this is built up to in a pretty solid way here — Anatoly, raised to become a chess champion to the exclusion of all else, being maddened by the notion of not actually beating Freddie in Act I and needing to prove he deserves the championship to himself in Act II before he can feel “free from chess” works as a coherent reason for him to be so strikingly, unhealthily obsessive about it.

But I think the biggest problem is that Florence and Anatoly individually don’t hit well enough as characters to create investment in them. Florence is ultimately not developed enough and mostly just acts kind of unpleasant, especially to Freddie, all the way up until that Svetlana bit in Act II. More importantly, I just can’t like or understand or sympathize with Anatoly at all, beyond recognizing that core of what his arc is going for. Part of it is probably down to the writing of his lines, which I’m just not a fan of in general. I already named one example from his first scene. Here’s how Anatoly and Florence’s very first conversation starts:

ANATOLY: It’s not his fault. This game drives us all crazy. FLORENCE: I’m fine. Aren’t you even a little bit scared? ANATOLY: Of Trumper? FLORENCE: No, that they’ll kill you if you lose. ANATOLY: Oh. To quote the great Leo Tolstoy, “Even in the valley of the shadow of death, two and two do not make six.” FLORENCE: What does that mean? ANATOLY: I don’t know exactly, but it is very Russian.

I just don’t find this dialogue very convincing. Why is he reciting a dramatic irrelevant quote if he doesn’t know what it means and just thinks it’s “very Russian”? It feels like a generic quippy exchange off a snarky TV show. Does Anatoly use humour to cope with his situation? Not really; this is pretty much the only time he says anything that might be taken as that. This feels like a joke that’s there only to get a laugh out of the audience, not because Anatoly would actually tell it — and consequently, it doesn’t tell us anything real about Anatoly. Meanwhile, Florence responds to this with “Oh, you’re funny,” as if that’s one of the reasons she falls for him when I would decidedly not name that as a character trait he has. I feel like most of his dialogue just doesn’t have a great sense of character — in stark contrast to Freddie, who oozes character. I can’t get a good sense of who he is and how he thinks. He’s just there. And this also makes it harder to see what Florence sees in him and believe in the relationship.

Moreover, this Anatoly just comes across as kind of a terrible person, not in the fun coherent intentional way Freddie is a terrible person but in a flat, confusing and kind of unintentional-seeming way. Svetlana here is actually really sympathetic, with lovely little additional bits of dialogue that make her feelings hit harder (her voice as she tells Anatoly that “You left us!” breaks my heart), and this is possibly my favorite version of Svetlana in any Chess. But Anatoly is really, really terrible to her, by which I don’t even mean the cheating on her but the bit where he keeps angrily insisting to her face that she never loved him and she brainwashed their children to hate him and of course they’re not going to kill her (hey, Anatoly, guess who’s already well aware that the Soviet government in this universe is not above executing people over chess?).

And even that could be made understandable, given his situation — he could just be in hard denial about it because the thought of them having been suffering with him gone and being punished for his actions is so horrific he just shuts it down — but there’s never any sense that that’s what’s really going on. We don’t see him privately upset about the possibility later, for instance — he just keeps insisting the same and dismissing Svetlana to Florence, too. We know it’s not that it’s true — we see Svetlana admit to Molokov that even though he ruined her life and she never wants to see him again she still loves him, and we hear her sing “Someone Else’s Story” and “I Know Him So Well”. Nor do we ever get any hint at exactly what Svetlana or his kids did to make him think this of them, if anything (his own kids!). Anatoly just seems to sort of bitterly, adamantly believe this for no reason at all. And that makes it impossible to empathize with. Okay, sure, Anatoly, you were taken from your family as a child, but that really doesn’t even start to explain any of this. There could have been ways of making it feel at least believable, tragic in a deeply fucked-up way, but the story here just doesn’t do the work. And once again, Anatoly being so unpleasant for no reason just makes it harder to feel at all invested in his relationship with Florence or sad when they part.

The best fix here isn’t quite obvious, and I can’t say I envy Danny Strong trying to put all his neat little ideas together and make them work. If Anatoly were to appear substantially conflicted about Svetlana and put any real stock in Molokov’s threat, that would render “Endgame”, where he doubles down anyway, kind of jarring and inexcusable as he’d be not just refusing to return to her but refusing to care if she is killed. So in order for this to properly work with “Endgame”, he probably does need to be very deep in denial about whether they’d really kill her. I think what I would do, if I were writing this plot where groomed-as-a-chess-champion Anatoly knows the Soviets killed Boris Ivanovich and they’ve threatened to kill Svetlana too, is to emphasize better how irrational Anatoly is being and try to show it more as a consequence of growing up among the constantly plotting KGB.

Let him go off on a proper paranoid rant to Florence about the reasons why he thinks Svetlana is just plotting against him, and some innocuous things he saw his kids do once that mean she brainwashed them. When Florence tries to challenge him on how batshit he sounds, he just storms out, saying she’s being taken in by their lies and just wants to sabotage him, and disappears — and she doesn’t see him again until he appears at the final game and plays this manic, desperate match while insisting to himself that Svetlana and Florence both just never understood him and hated his success. Afterwards, we can perhaps see him finally, quietly asking Molokov if they’re really going to kill her, showing that on some level he already knew the threat might be real and had just firmly blocked it out (in the actual ending as it is Molokov simply tells him unprompted that she really will be punished unless he comes back, and he just asks why with no addressing of his previous adamant insistence that that wouldn’t happen). His and Florence’s final conversation could then involve a bit more of a reckoning with that and with what his relationship with Svetlana was really like, through a more honest lens.

I’m actually pretty tickled by this scenario because that would really drive home a pretty fun parallel between Anatoly and Freddie — which in hindsight I think this version must in fact have been trying for, but didn’t quite do in a focused enough way for it to really hit. Anatoly and Freddie are both chess players with deeply abnormal childhoods and bouts of paranoia that cause them to behave in toxic ways, which ultimately drives Florence away from both of them.

This production shows the first chess game as the “Chess Game” instrumental playing under Freddie and Anatoly having alternating inner monologues about the game and their issues, deliberately drawing a comparison between the two of them; they both say they hate chess, that they don’t feel like real human beings. It’s not exactly subtle, but I liked the way this was used to build up their respective brain gremlins and was intrigued by the parallel being set up. I didn’t feel they ultimately did much with the parallel, though, because the story then didn’t really continue leaning into it much from there. By emphasizing this Anatoly’s paranoia as paranoia and not just as him legitimately thinking the marriage was never real and the KGB wouldn’t kill her, we could properly build the story around that parallel, and I would genuinely dig that.

The one place after the chess match where the actual thing does sort of try to get at the Anatoly/Freddie parallel again is in the dialogue scene that precedes “Endgame”. This scene is not sung (though it has the “Chess Game” instrumental in the background, which connects it neatly to that previous bit comparing the two of them), but it’s clearly based on “Talking Chess”: Freddie approaches Anatoly to tell him Viigand’s weakness lies in his King’s Indian Defense, and:

ANATOLY: Why are you helping me? FREDDIE: Jesus Christ! Am I the only one who cares about this game? ANATOLY: It’s more than a game now. There is so much more at stake than who wins or loses. FREDDIE: No! No, winning is everything. Fuck politics! Fuck the KGB, fuck the CIA, fuck them all! We are the ones who have dedicated our lives to chess. We are the ones who have given up everything for greatness — our childhoods, our sanity, our loves. Anatoly, we’ve sacrificed everything. They’ve sacrificed nothing. What’s the number one rule of a chess champion? ANATOLY: Play to win. FREDDIE: As long as you do that you can never lose, even if you do.

Much as I love “Talking Chess”, though, this on the surface similar scene just didn’t feel right in this context when I listened to it. In Anatoly’s last scene here, he told Florence firmly that he just wanted to win and that his marriage with Svetlana was never real and it’s all KGB mind games. Him going “It’s more than a game now, there’s so much more at stake” suddenly now comes out of nowhere — if he believes that now, it could only be if he actively reconsidered something offscreen, but he doesn’t say anything elaborating on what he’s thinking now or what he might have reconsidered or why, just that vague, generic line that contradicts everything he’s expressed up until this point. It’s another example of Anatoly’s dialogue just feeling really flat and meaningless to me — his lines here don’t say anything, just serve as vague filler to prompt Freddie onward. And because unlike London proper the setup leading up to this is all about him already being absolutely determined to win the game at all costs, this just feels redundant, unnecessary, going through the motions of something that’s in London without realizing that with the changed context it doesn’t quite make sense anymore.

I think that’s unfortunately the case with Freddie a bit here too. I enjoyed Act I’s quite different take on Freddie, and his establishing narration for Act II petulantly stating Anatoly won the championship last year “by forfeit, I might add”, and “The Interview” is recontextualized in a very fun way as I mentioned before — but after that it feels like Danny Strong doesn’t quite know what to do with Freddie anymore and just has him sort of arbitrarily go through the motions of London in a way that doesn’t necessarily hang together with everything he’s established of Freddie so far. It made sense that this Freddie, despite being decidedly hostile towards Walter and the CIA, conducted the interview to show Florence what a bastard Anatoly is — he’s not doing it for Walter, he’s got his own reasons to want to do it once Walter’s shown him the Svetlana video. But I find it a lot harder to swallow that this Freddie — whose usual problem seems to be that he’s compulsively blunt about how he really feels — would then be easily persuaded to play his part in “The Deal”, which involves exaggeratedly trying to be all buddy-buddy with Anatoly. Maybe if there was better setup around it, like with “The Interview” — but “The Deal” only has seconds of kind of half-assed leadup here, and from there it moves directly into “Pity the Child” (after a segue featuring the recording of Oppenheimer quoting the Bhagavad Gita, because nuclear war).

Freddie’s next appearance after that, then, is this “Talking Chess”-esque dialogue where he’s realized the parallel between the two of them, how they’ve both sacrificed everything for chess and the political schemers have sacrificed nothing and that’s why he should play to win. I can appreciate how the low point of “Pity the Child” would trigger that particular realization, contemplating how much he lost and sacrificed to achieve his status in the game and perhaps afterward realizing Anatoly is the only other person here who might understand that. That feels like it basically tracks and is interesting.

But… it also means that fun very specific contempt for Anatoly in particular based on him having left his family like Freddie’s own father did is just kind of… gone, I guess, or at least Freddie doesn’t consider it relevant enough for it to stop him from going out of his way to pep Anatoly up for the game with no mention or hint of it. (At least Freddie probably isn’t aware of the threats made against Svetlana in particular, so he doesn’t know Anatoly winning would shatter his family even further.) And we’ve lost the bit in “Talking Chess” where the notion of the political scheming actually leading to Viigand winning the match just personally offends Freddie because Viigand is not even that good; instead Freddie is just putting forward “Play to win” as some kind of general inviolable chess principle, which is kind of generic and not nearly as characterful, in my opinion. I’m not saying we ought to have had the “Viigand is mediocre” bit here — I don’t think it would quite fit in for this Freddie, whose feelings about chess itself are very conflicted and who is more concerned with showing up these political hacks who have sacrificed nothing while they sacrificed everything — but as a Freddie moment I would really have wanted to end on something stronger there than this vague assertion that “The number one rule of a chess champion is to play to win.”

Like in London, this is Freddie’s last substantial scene, but he does have a part in “Endgame”, and it’s also an interesting one: he gets Sixty-four squares / they’re the reason you know you exist (but not the preceding How straightforward the game…), but also a couple of other verses usually sung by the chorus, and the lines he gets are clearly very purposefully chosen to reinforce that final resolve regarding the sacrifices they’ve made for greatness, which I really appreciate: Listen to them shout / They saw you do it / In their minds no doubt / That you’ve been through it / Suffered for your art and in the end a winner and They’re completely enchanted / But they don’t take your qualities for granted / It isn’t very often / That the critics soften / Nonetheless, you’ve won their hearts / How can we begin to / Appreciate the work that you’ve put into / Your calling through the years / The blood, the sweat, the tears / The late, late, nights, the early starts?

All in all, Freddie is still definitely my favorite part of this Chess, but while the parallel itself is neat it’s too muddled and I find the second half of Act II pretty uneven for him. What would I do if I were writing this bit?

I’m not totally sure how I’d want to tackle “The Deal”, but as for the “Talking Chess”-but-not scene: I would ditch the bit where Freddie is trying to advise Anatoly on strategy and the bit where Anatoly is apparently suddenly not determined to play to win just so Freddie can then tell him he should be again. None of that is contributing anything in what this version has been building up. Instead, they just sort of bump into each other, Anatoly fresh off his paranoid rant to Florence about Svetlana, Freddie fresh off “Pity the Child” and the strange realization Anatoly might be the only person who’d understand him a little bit. At first they just sort of stop and look at each other. Freddie starts, guarded, with some kind of oblique accusatory prod about the leaving his family thing, which he still deeply resents.

Anatoly has calmed down now, but he tells him what he told Florence: that it was always a fake marriage, a fake family, that the video was just a lie set up for him by the KGB, that Svetlana had brainwashed their children to despise him.

This incidentally plays into Freddie’s existing preconceptions pretty well. He’s probably not instantly convinced but it checks out enough he’s willing to reluctantly leave it alone for now. Probably mutters something like, “Fucking Soviets.”

Anatoly says something like, aren’t you going to try to make me a deal to get me to throw the match and go back? Freddie says no, fuck that. Says the whole bit about how we are the ones who have dedicated ourselves to chess, who have sacrificed everything, childhood, sanity, love, and they’ve sacrificed nothing. Why should we listen to those CIA and KGB assholes? Draws out that parallel. The two of them are probably standing in symmetrical positions on the stage.

Anatoly just nods slowly, agreeing. “I would have beaten you.”

Freddie scoffs and says, “Dream on,” but not quite with the spiteful arrogance he would’ve said it in Act I.

Then they part, and we move on to “Endgame”. The scene isn’t about Freddie helping Anatoly, or about Freddie convincing Anatoly to go for the win; it’s about the Freddie/Anatoly parallel, about Freddie realizing it and in his profound loneliness finding a smidge of connection with this guy he hated because he’s the only one who sort of Gets It, and about showing how Anatoly’s conviction has developed since the first chess match where part of his inner monologue went, “I can’t beat him, he’s too good.” Anatoly is so ready to prove that he really is the world’s best chess player.

Conclusion

Man, this version is so interesting. It’s a mess, but it’s a fascinating mess with a bunch of tasty potential and a real sense that Danny Strong had some genuine thoughts on what the show was missing and how to rework it to fix that, even where his attempts were ultimately confused and don’t succeed. In some ways it’s the most me-core version of Chess and in other ways it’s deeply antithetical to me and in most all ways it’s trying to do something neat but does it in a flawed way. Special shoutout to this Freddie, who honestly deserves better than this Florence.

[admrlthundrbolt]

Drag Me Down(Minotaur Uvogin x Chubby Reader)

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After taking a heavy lose with a recent deadly event. Heaven's Arena decides it's time to take things in a different direction. All manner of creatures and beings are invited to a glory filled tournament. When the bull man Uvogin enters to bring riches to his tribe. How will he take the distraction of a past champion as a judge. And why do they cause a burn in his chest that he's never felt before.

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Hey guys, I'm back at it again. I had a burst of inspiration to do a monster character for a different series. Who better than Minotaur Uvogin. I always feel that he's written a bit more sinister than I feel his character is. Plus he's a bit under appreciated. So here's my contribution, hope you enjoy.

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Uvogin was in a poor mood. Between his soaking clothes and empty fishing pail. He wasn't sure how much worse his day could get. So color him surprised to see a human surrounded by half the tribe.

The blonde man smiled up at the leader with no animosity. It was an odd sight to behold. A human half their size conversing with a ‘monster’ that had kill many of his kind.

The leader noticed him and grin between the two men. “Ah, Uvogin. Come join us, you'll want to hear this.”

Making his way over, he stared down at the blonde. He couldn't tell if he liked the guy's fearlessness or wanted to wiped the grin off his face. “What is it?”

Looking up at the behemoth, Shalnark's smile grew. Oh the audience would love this guy. “I'm here to let anyone interested know about the Heaven's Areana tournament. Anyone is allowed to enter and there's a huge cash prize. Your the last village on my recruitment list.”

His day was starting to get better. Heaven's Arena had never allowed the less human beings participate. But he wasn't surprised after they let a couple of contestants destroy a ton of property and kill people. It was such a disaster that it hadn't taken long for news to reach his tribe. Even as far out as they were.

A hand suddenly came down on his wide back. Laughing heartily the leader patted him hard and boisterously. “If there was a knucklehead that could bring glory to the tribe, it’s you. It would be a monster fighting tournament. So what do you say?”

Without a second thought he agreeded. If there was a way he could help the tribe. He would do everything in his power to bring them glory. It was easy for humans to look down on and persecute those they considered beneath them. Minotaur were no exception to that. If they weren't hired for a dungeon, then they weren't hired at all. Why would a monster be trusted with any other task. He would prove them wrong and this tournament was the first step. Plus the cash prize didn't hurt. Dragging the blonde with him, he headed for his hut.

Shalnark flailed a bit. “Woah big guy, where you taking me?” He had been the only one to volunteer to announce the tournament to the more monstrous beings. Waving off the warnings of his companions. Now he wasn't so sure they were wrong.

He answered without a glance at the other man. “To pack, I need you to guide me there.”

Surprise colored his face. “Oh, OK then.” This guy was definitely interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a long trek back to the town Heaven's Areana called headquarters. And he had to admit as much as he was forced to show the Minotaur back, he didn't regret it. This guy was pretty fun to talk to. He had a lot of interesting stories about the tribe he was from. Though the stories involving humans always turned his stomach a bit. It was one thing to know that they were a more looked down upon group. But another to hear the first hand accounts of just what they had been put through. Uvogin didn't let it get him down though. He was a fighter in all manner of the word.

A smirk settled onto the blonde's face. He could think of a certain former champion that would get along very well with the behemoth. He wondered if it would affect your judgment of the competition at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had grown tired of keeping up appearances. It's not that you weren't grateful of the opportunities that Heaven's Areana had provided you. The money, the fame, and not to mention the position as a floor master.

But just how much did they expect you to put up with. You were a glorified brand model. Your face and name strewn across any announcements they plastered up.

Shoehorning you into this newest tournament, only as a judge. You are the current champion. Why shouldn't you be able to join in. Though the addition of non-human competitors did intriguing you. It must have taken a lot of convincing for the investors to accept the change. Maybe the ticket sales plummeting was enough to final push aside their prejudice.

Still the prospects of a pay increase can only push their bias so far away. If you happened to be vocal about your approval of the shift in contestants. Well they could only go against the face of the platform behind closed doors.

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He was in awe of the large city. It was something he had just experienced through pictures. Never thinking that he may have the opportunity to see it in person himself.

The blonde shook his head at the giant's excitement. He had come to enjoy the other man's company. The big lug had grown on him. It also made him all the more confident that you would get along. He had brought up your name and saw the man's eyes light up. Apparently he had a great admiration for you. Though from what he had been told the Minotaur had never seen what you looked like. He snickered at the thought of the two of you finally meeting. He was sure that Uvogin would be quite surprised.

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It was the last day for sign ups. You anxiously craned your head looking for Shalnark. It wasn't like him to wait for the last minute. A smile spread on your face as you saw a familiar head of blonde hair. He had just arrived at the enrollment area. Rushing over, you punched him on the arm. “Not a single letter, no word from you for weeks. What kind of friendship do you think this is?”

He waved his hands in surrender. “Come on (Y/N), you know I was on an important mission. In fact I have someone I think is excited to meet you.” He started dragging you over to the Minotaur.

You playfully struggled, but let him lead you. He may be a bit much at times. Still he had been loyally by your side for many years. So you could deal with any of his eccentricities. “This better not be another attempt to set me up with someone. That Hisoka guy was such a blood thirsty creep.” You would have continued listing off the idiots he had introduced you to. If not for the behemoth he placed you in front of. He was quite the sight. Seemingly as broad as he was tall. His muscled form not even hidden by the scrap of a shirt he was wearing. His bovine like features complimenting his strong body. Grey hair making his dark eyes all the more dazzling.

Hearing a snicker from beside you. You finally managed to shake yourself out of your ogling. Though from the way the Minotaur's eyes were roaming over you. You had a feeling that your weren't the only one enjoying the veiw.

As his eyes raked over your soft body, you didn't know just how right you were. Of all the humans he had seen on his travels with Shalnark. He had never seen one so lovely. You were plump and inviting to the eyes. Your friendly nature with the man he had travel with was quite endearing.

His eyes widened when you stuck out your hand. Glancing at the blonde he received a reassuring nod. Placing his hand within your own. He was surprised by the strength in your grip. You were easily matching the intensity of his own grasp. Raising an eyebrow at you he snorted in amusement.

Plulling your hand back, you smile. “You must be what held up this airhead.” Snatching the blonde into a headlock, you messed up his hair. After a few moments you spared him anymore embarrassment. Turning back to the tall man, you said. “Names (Y/N).”

Brow furrowing in confusion, he looked over your figure again. “Wait, the (Y/N). The (Y/N) that is a champion and Floor Master of Heaven's Arena?” He stared down at your much smaller plush body. He only had met Minotaur women in his life. Sure they were strong, but you. In comparison you seemed like a delicate flower. Glancing at the man beside you, he saw the mischievous smirk on his face. This little pipsqueak knew all along. He had went on and on about his admiration for you. Not once haf Shalnark mention that he knew you or what your appearance was. He glared down at the blonde, weighing the option of violence seriously in his mind.

Feeling the tension rise between the two men made your heart race. There was nothing you loved more than a good fight. Stepping in the middle of them an excited grin settling onto your expression. “In the flesh. Now as much as I like to see Shalnark squirm. Why don't we get in a practice round before you head to the bunk area. I'm sure I'd be a much better sparing partner. Mr….” Smile sifting to something a bit more salacious, you stepped closer to the behemoth.

Gazing down at you, he couldn't help but admire the fire in your eyes. “Uvogin.” Just as he was about to accept your offer, you were swept away. By a small girl with pigtails and a pink dress. He watched in disbelief as the child pulled you to a nearby building. Turning to his companion he was annoyed as the blonde shrugged and walked away.

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Changing for the opening ceremony, you rolled your eyes. Bisky was reprimanding you for trying to start a fight. Something about it not being proper behavior for a woman of your standing. You were a champion of a fighting organization. What was inappropriate about challenging someone to a fight. To which she responded with, you are in a different league and therefore should act appropriately. She then left with a flip of her hair.

Frowning at the ground, you growled in frustration. You weren't above anyone! Yes you may be able to beat people physically, but that didn't mean you were better than them. Only that your were stronger than them. You had worked hard to become the person you were today. Anyone could do it though. They just needed to put in the work. To think that anyone was beneath you turned your stomach. That was the type of mindset that had oppressed so many others.

Clenching your fist, you steeled your resolve. If it was the last thing you did. You were going to make sure to help all non-human competitors through this competition.

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Though the bunks were cramped, it wasn't anything Uvogin hadn't dealt with. A man of his size was usually plagued with things never quite being big enough. So it was nice to head out to the outdoor areana for the opening ceremony.

His eyes looked into the stands. Not quite sure what he was searching for, until they landed on you. You were sat at a large table with a couple of other people. One being the annoying girl from before. The other a young man with a bandaged head and large earrings. He only spared them a glance before solely focusing on you. Even though it had been a short time since he had seen you, his chest ached oddly. A warmth he had never felt before spread over him. You sat as regal as any royal figure. You were glowing, as radiant as the sun itself. He could have admired you for hours.

Suddenly the girl elbowed you and pointed towards the crowd. Your eyes scanned for a moment before landing on him. A broad grin took over your expression and you waved at him. Returning the gesture, he moved to call out to you. Until an announcement rang over the area.

“Hello Contestants.” He payed the woman little attention. Eyes staying on you, he listened to the terms of the contest. They would be fighting in the outdoor areana in a bracket style tournament. Each participant was randomly selected to go against their opponent. This would continue until there was only two people left. The victor would go to the last one standing. “That being said, there will be no killing in this competition. You may now return to your quarters. Lots will be drawn tomorrow.”

This was the thing that tore his attention from you. This would make it a much more difficult task. It would involve strategy that he hadn’t prepared for. Glancing back your way, he was surprised to meet your gaze. It seemed you were gadging his reaction. A cocky smirk plastered it's way onto his face. “Don't worry Princess. I won't get kicked out that easily.”

Rolling your eyes at the behemoth. You couldn't help but smile at his boisterous laughter.

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Excitement coursed through your veins as you made your way back to the judge's quarters. Even if this turn out was a bit sparse compared to other years. There seemed to be a lot of capable contestants. A blonde Kitsune that was small, while holding a mysterious aura. A bright red Chimera that had a near endless amount of mana. Your fellow judge Chrollo may look like the average man. But a changling hid under that innocent mask.

Your mind couldn't stray far from a certain Minotaur. No matter how many times you scanned the crowd. Your gaze always seemed to settle back on his broad figure. Only to find his eyes already fixated on you. It made your chest flutter a bit. With the title of campion branded on you. You hadn't given much thought to relationships. Especially those of the more romantic manner. It was odd enough to have Shalnark stick around. But he was always more of an annoying little brother type.

Rounding the corner to your private chambers, you were met with a chest. Not nearly as firm as you were hoping. So it wasn't a surprise when your eyes spotted blonde hair. The self satisfied smirk that was on his face begging to be smacked off.

“So you're a princess now?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door.

Twisting the knob, you took a deep satisfaction at the thud his body made as it met the ground. “Not to you. Boss would be the better term for our standing.” Stepping over him, you made your way to the private bathroom that was attached to your room.

Mock frowning, he scrambled over to a nearby chair and made himself comfortable. “Don't be like that. I just wanted to point out how right I was.”

Sticking your head out the doorway you glared at him. “A nickname means nothing. He may just acknowledge that he respects me on a level of strength. Or you could be reading into the situation and it was only said in jest.” Poping your head back in, you continued changing. The outfit that was picked out for the ceremony was not one of comfort. Thankfully that has been the only mention of wardrobe preparation on you behalf.

Shaking his head at your ignorance, he held in a laugh. If he had his guess, the two of you would be together by the end of the tournament. Maybe early if he wasn't mistaken about the blush that cover your cheeks at the Minotaur's announcement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You grew disappointed as you got ready for the final day of the tournament. It hadn't last nearly long enough in your opinion. A few people dropped out after the first few matches were more intense than they expected. Still the few you had noticed in the crowd were some of the best contenders.

Your cheeks warmed at the thought of the final two participants. The blonde Kitsune named Kurapika. He was a chain wielder that was skilled in a seemless flow sort of fighting style. And the brutish yet endlessly strong Minotaur Uvogin.

You would keep your mind clear and unbias as you judge the final bout. Though the time you had spent with the behemoth may make that difficult. The many offers to walk you back to your private quarters. Making sure you never spent a meal alone in the dining hall. The whispered words in passing and jovial shouts of triumph as his opponent was defeated. Secret sparring matches in the empty areana. The moon shining on your glistening bodies. Lingering touches that would make both of your hearts race. Each of you leaving, but wishing you had a bit more time to spend without interuption.

With a deep breath, you shook away the memories. Making your way to the judge's table. Knowing the possibility that this could be the last day you could spend with the man you had grown to love.

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He was restless, pacing around the locker room. This was it, the final match. He was originally shocked that the Kitsune made it so far. Although after watching his fighting style take out participant after participant. It was no wonder he would be pitted against someone so skilled. He needed to do this for his tribe, no his people. To long had the Minotaurs been looked down on and considered beast.

That wasn't the only reason his heart was racing. He would ask you to be his today. He had courted you under the laws of his people. Proving he was a good companion and provider. That he could protect you and was capable as a partner. An equal in strength and conversation. You were made for him, plush body and brilliant mind. He couldn't count the times you pinned him to the ground. As he lay on his back, gazing up at you in the gossamer moon light. He wanted to scream at himself for never leaning forward. Pressing his lips against your own and claiming you.

Shaking the alluring image from his thoughts. He focused on the task at hand. Defeating the Kitsune and winning your hand.

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Sitting at the judge's table, your leg wouldn't stop bouncing. Chrollo shot you a knowing smirk. While Bisky sent a withering glare your way. You didn't pay either of them any attention. Your eyes were locked on the battle in front of you. It had seemed that Uvogin was going to make swift work of the other man. But the Kitsune's mysterious chains had more to them than previously thought.

It was as if this was a War of attrition, neither side getting an edge over the other. Until a sudden move from Kurapika had the Minotaur on his back. You were prepared for the match to be called. Even if the larger man hadn't won you would still make him realize just how far he had made it.

Then a glint of sun light shone in your eye behind the blonde. In only a moment you were crouched protectively over the behemoth. The blade sunk into your shoulder. Digging in further as it attempted to reach it's true target, Uvogin's heart. Snarling at the pain, you tackled the smaller man. “You dare try to kill an already defeated opponent!”

His face screwed up in a furious manner. “That beast isn't worth the taste of my blade.” He stepped forward.

Slashing out at him, you made sure to keep yourself between the two. “Then why even join a non-leathal competition?”

“Any opportunity to kill the monsters that wiped out my clan is worth the risk.” He spat at the ground as a pair of guards came to collect him. He went quietly, but his eyes blazed as they stayed on the Minotaur.

Uvogin laided on the ground in shock. He had expected his whole life to flash before his eyes a moment before. Instead his mind could only conjure up thoughts of you. Your smile, your laugh, the way you fliddled with your fingers as you explained something that excited you. Your kind morals and sweet caring nature. The ferocity that you fought with and the softness of your body. Just everything that made up you. Then to have you save him. He almost thought it was a dream. Here you were though, protecting him with a bloodied shoulder. He gazed up at you in awe.

You reached a hand out for him, he tugged you down instead. Mouth crashing against yours, he embraced you. The two of you shared the tender moment. Barely hearing the announcement of Kurapika's disqualification and Uvogin's victory. Much to wrapped up in one another and thoughts of where your lives together would lead you.