#and that i have a chance of recovering from it

[wheels-of-despair]

Heaven and Hell (Or: Eddie and Evil Woman Do… Prom?!) Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman are *checks notes* going to prom? Like normies?! Contains: A high school prom, two nervous freaks, an ill-fitting wardrobe, an unfortunate zit, dancing, references to other E/EW fics nobody will remember, relentless teasing, a happy ending. Words: 4.5k

"Prom's next month."

You stop playing with Eddie's hair and look down at the head lying in your lap in surprise.

He keeps his eyes on the TV. A blush creeps into his cheeks. Is Eddie Munson seriously thinking about going to prom? You fight a smile and start working your fingers through his hair again.

"Yup… that's what they said on the morning announcements."

Silence. No way he's that interested in the orange juice commercial you've seen ten times today. Eddie Munson is thinking about prom, and he's in the process of chickening out.

"You ever been?" you ask.

"Nah," he says, eyes still on the TV. "You?"

"Nah."

He bites his lip. You can't take it anymore.

"You thinkin' about going?"

He shrugs.

If you were a more patient person, you could poke and prod at him until he finally asked you. However…

"Well, if you were planning on asking me, you're too late."

He finally looks up at you, confusion on his face.

"I've rekindled my romance with Chief Hopper."

A smile spreads across Eddie's face.

"I'm sorry, Eddie," you sigh. "What we had was fun, but you just don't have the stamina. Sometimes a girl just NEEDS full night of porking."

You both snort at the same time, which leads to a fit of giggles.

When you recover, you brush his bangs out of his face. He sighs.

"So, uh…" He licks his lips while he tries to find his words. "If the bacon falls through, would you maybe think about going with me?"

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. "Because it's kinda my last chance, and I know it's stupid, and it goes against everything I stand for, and it'll probably be miserable, and the music's gonna suck, and you probably have a way better idea of what we could do that night, but… ugh, never mind."

Eddie turns back toward the TV, shaking his head so some of his hair hides his burning face. You gently brush it back behind his ear, looking down at him with all the love in your heart.

"Eddie?"

"Hm."

"You're the only person I'd think about going to prom with."

"Really?" He looks up at you with an uneasy smile.

"Yeah," you answer, tracing the shell of his ear.

"We don't have to."

"I know," you smile. "I want to go with you." He smiles back sleepily. "But if I get Carrie'd, I can't promise I'll spare you."

"Kay," he chuckles.

"Mother?" you ask, hovering in the living room doorway.

"Daughter?" she responds from the couch, without looking up from her book.

You take a deep breath and stare at the floor.

"Ineedapromdress."

"What?"

You sigh and raise your head. "I need a prom dress."

Her book drops to her lap, revealing wide eyes behind her glasses.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I need a prom dress," you repeat with a roll of your eyes.

"Oh my god! I have a child who's voluntarily attending a school function!"

"What's up?" Gareth asks from behind you.

"They're going to the prom!"

You slowly turn and see him looking at you in amusement.

"Shut up," you order before he can even say anything.

"She's even gonna wear a dress!" your mother shrieks.

"Shut up," you repeat, glaring at Gareth's stupid smirky face. "Kay, I'm going to bed, open to shopping suggestions and financial contributions, good night."

You squeeze past him and make a mad dash for your room.

"They're all gonna laugh at you!" Gareth warbles in his best Piper Laurie impression.

"Shut up!" you repeat one last time, then slam your bedroom door.

"He's heeeere," Gareth announces as he passes by your bedroom door.

"You look perfect," your mom assures you.

She's been working on your makeup for fifteen minutes, and it's finally the way she wants it. And you have to admit… you look pretty damn good.

She'd taken you to the city for a day of shopping, and after several hours of hunting, you'd actually found a dress without puffed sleeves, ruffles, or tulle.

"Give me a minute, I want the camera on his face when he sees you," your mom says excitedly.

"Mother, it's a high school prom, it's not our wedding."

"Let me have this!" she whisper-yells. She grabs her camera and leaves the room.

You take one last look at yourself, stand, and slip on your shoes. Heels. You're even wearing fucking heels.

You walk down the hall and turn into the kitchen…

Eddie Munson is wearing a suit.

You'd offered to help him look for one, or find him something in the city, but he said he had it covered. And he did. He's even wearing a tie, and he's tamed his hair somehow. He looks freakishly presentable (for Eddie) and is holding what you imagine is a corsage in a box.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You stand there and stare at each other. Awkward. It's awkward.

"Eddie! Give her the corsage!" Your mom stage-whispers.

He tries to hold it out to you, but fumbles it and drops it on the floor. You both reach down to get it, and you hear a RIIIP tear through the kitchen. You both stand immediately, looking and feeling your outfits.

"Was that you or me?" you ask, trying to feel the back of your dress. You knew this fucker was too tight. But your question is answered when all the blood drains out of Eddie's panicked face.

"Let me see, honey," your mom says gently, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him. The seam in the back of his jacket has ripped.

"Dude! You Hulked out on prom night," Gareth laughs from his seat at the kitchen table.

You give him a warning shush, and for once, he obeys.

"Slip that off, I'll have it as good as new in no time." Your mom helps Eddie out of his jacket and takes it in the direction of her sewing machine. You carefully retrieve the corsage from the floor and put it on the table.

"Uh… that's for you," he mumbles, the color returning to his face.

"Thank you," you smile, leaving the box closed until your mother can return and witness this sacred and not-at-all stupid prom ritual.

You turn to Eddie and lift a hand to run through his suspiciously tame hair.

"Don't look at it," Eddie mumbles.

"Don't look at what?" you ask.

"His third eye," Gareth supplies helpfully. That's when you notice the zit between his eyes. Eddie's face reddens so much that it almost blends in. Gareth snickers. You pick up a damp kitchen towel, ball it up, and throw it at him. It hits him in the ear.

"Don't you have some place to be?" you ask pointedly.

"Nope," he grins, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Mom's taking me to Jeff's after you leave."

You roll your eyes, reach for Eddie's hand, and pull him to your bedroom.

"Sit," you instruct, pointing at your desk. He drops into the chair with a defeated sigh. You start digging through your extremely elegant shoebox full of makeup, then realize what you need. "I'll be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

You return with a cotton ball.

"What's that?"

"Wite-Out. My make-up's too dark for you," you joke.

Eddie's brow furrows, and you apply a dab of peroxide to his unfortunate growth. When it dries, you reach for the concealer.

"What are you doing?" he asks nervously.

"Covering that up."

He sits silently and watches you reach for this and that to cover his bump, and when you stand back and smile, he frowns.

"What's wrong?" you ask. "I can wipe it off if you want, I thought you wanted it gone."

"I feel like a clown," he grumbles.

"You are a clown."

He pouts. You point at the mirror, and he leans over to see his camouflage… and his jaw drops. You lean down until your head is next to his, so you can see what he sees.

"Witchcraft," he whispers.

"You know it, babe," you wink.

"One freshly tailored suit jacket for the young lad," your mom announces as she steps into the room. Eddie stands, and she helps him into it. She brushes her hand along the seam. "Good as new!" she declares. "But no break-dancing tonight." Eddie laughs.

After the official corsage and boutonniere exchange in the kitchen, you're marched into the living room for pictures. Each pose is goofier than the last, but you aren't allowed to leave until your mom finishes off a roll of film.

You both breathe a sigh of relief when the van doors slam shut.

"You still wanna do this, or do you wanna go get blazed and hide out at my place?" Eddie asks, probably about 40% joking.

"What time is it?" you ask. Eddie consults his watch and reads the time back to you. You pretend to consider it for a second, then shake your head. "Chief Hopper is expecting me in 15 minutes, and my little piggy does not like to be kept waiting."

Eddie snorts and starts the engine. Hawkins High Prom 1986 it is.

"Where'd you get your suit?" you ask a few minutes into the surprisingly awkward drive.

"George. The thrift shop guy. Told him I needed something prom-worthy. This was his grandson's. 'He's a lanky thing, just like you,' he said."

"It's nice," you admire.

"It's a little small, but… y'know." Eddie shrugs. "Price was right."

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"It's… a little tight," he admits.

"Baby, you don't have to wear stuff if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It's fine… as long as I don't have to move my arms much."

"Is it the shirt too, or just the jacket?"

"Mostly the jacket, the shirt's got some stretch to it."

"Ditch it."

"Ticket says jacket and tie required."

"Ditch it as soon as they let us in."

"This is why you're the brains of this operation," he mumbles as he pulls into a parking spot.

"Correct," you grin.

"Stay," Eddie orders, hopping down and scrambling around the front of the van to open your door. You're suddenly reminded of your first official date; he'd tried so hard to be someone else, but you didn't want someone else. You wanted Eddie Munson, and you wanted him just the way he was. You take his hand and slide to the ground, wincing as your heels hit the pavement.

"Is your battle armor in here?" you ask, nodding toward the back.

"Of course."

"Fetch."

Eddie smirks and walks toward the back, and you shut your door and follow him. He grabs his leather jacket and patch-filled vest, and hugs the pair to his chest.

You reach for them, and he hands them over. You separate the pair while he watches nervously, like you're separating conjoined twins that he personally gave birth to.

"Lose the child-sized suit jacket," you instruct. He tries, but gets stuck almost immediately. You muffle a laugh and step behind him to help him out of it, then slide his plain leather jacket on.

He looks more comfortable already. And considerably more Eddie-like. You go to transfer his boutonniere to his jacket pocket… but he doesn't have one. A bit of quick thinking and one rip later, his dumb little flower is attached with a strip of duct tape. You step back to admire him.

"There he is," you smile.

"Now he's gotta find his girl," Eddie says, "and then they can go do this damn prom thing."

You look down at your outfit and back at him, but he's already digging… through your overnight bag?

"Eddie, what--"

He cuts you off by slapping the soles of your favorite sneakers on the floor of his van.

"You've been wincing with every damn step since you walked into the kitchen. Lose the shoes."

You grin and sit down to swap your heels for sneakers. Sneakers that Eddie vandalized during a particularly boring assembly. It was one of the reasons why they were your favorites; the boy's a ballpoint artist. The other was--oh, that's nice. You stand comfortably and breathe a sigh of relief.

"You want a little liquid courage?" Eddie asks, shaking a bottle of liquor at you.

"Sure," you answer. You each take a swig in hopes of making your night a little more bearable. Eddie stashes the bottle in the van and slams the back doors shut.

"M'lady," he says, offering an arm. You take it, and walk toward the Hawkins High gym doors. Any time now, alcohol.

A cheerleader-in-training eyes you warily, but takes your tickets and lets you pass by her table into the gym… decked out in streamers and balloons. Wicked classy, Hawkins High.

"And you say I never take you anywhere nice," Eddie grins.

"I have literally, not once, ever said that."

Eddie laughs and takes your hand.

"Munson?!" a voice shrieks.

"Yeah?" he asks uneasily, turning to see Mrs. O'Donnell.

"What are you doing here?"

You look at each other, and back at her.

"Whatever people usually do at prom, I guess?"

"I'll have no shenanigans from you tonight, Munson."

"Wouldn't dream of it, O'Donnell."

"Don't even think about going near that punch bowl," she warns.

"Why, what's in the punch bowl?" he asks. You try to keep a straight face.

"Just punch, and that's the way it's going to stay. Isn't that right, Mr. Munson?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says innocently.

Mrs. O'Donnell looks you both up and down, sucks her teeth in disapproval, and walks away without another word.

"Like I'd waste good liquor on these ungrateful assholes," he mumbles. "Do have an emergency flask in my pocket, by the way."

"Aww, and I thought you were just happy to see me."

"That's in the other pocket," he winks.

"C'mon," you laugh, pulling him to the other side of the gym. Once you're in a quiet spot, you scan the room for familiar faces. You knew you were pretty much on your own - all of the other Hellfire boys were having a movie marathon and sleepover at Jeff's - but you thought you'd look for potential allies anyway.

"There's Nancy Wheeler," you notice.

"And the Elder Byers," Eddie points out.

"I think we're on our own, babe."

"Just how I like it," he grins.

"You gonna dance with me, or just stand here lookin' pretty all night?" you ask.

Eddie responds by flipping his hair over his shoulder dramatically.

"C'mon," you smile, nodding toward the dance floor. He balks.

"This song sucks."

"Every song's gonna suck," you remind him.

"This one sucks more than average."

"Then how 'bout we visit the snack table and lay a curse on the punch while we wait for something that sucks slightly less?"

"This way, m'lady," he says nerdily, holding out his arm. You roll your eyes and take it anyway, working together to assemble a plate full of cheap snacks and two cups of unspiked punch. You retreat to the bleachers and pick at your bounty.

"So… this is a high school dance," he remarks.

"Yup… imagine, some people's entire high school careers revolve around this thing."

"I'd kinda rather be at home," he confesses.

"In our pajamas," you add.

"Watching shitty movies," he continues.

"Eating shittier pizza."

"Maybe fooling around a little?" He waggles his eyebrows and tilts his head toward the door.

"We went through a lot of trouble to get here, Edward. I went shopping. With my mother. You put on a suit. And a tie. And grew a stress zit."

"Shut up," he grumbles, hand instinctively touching the bump between his eyes. You lean in to kiss his cheek.

"Let's give it an hour. You've gotta dance with me at least once."

"Fine," he pouts. You feed him crackers, and he starts to relax a little.

When the opening chords of "Footloose" blare through the speakers, Eddie cringes. The people on the dance floor go wild.

"C'mon," you order, standing up and reaching for his hand.

"No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Eddie Munson, you get your spastic ass on this dance floor with your dumb-ass classmates right now."

He whines, and looks… nervous? You sit back down, face full of concern. He scans the crowd, and you look too. Eyes keep darting to you. Not outright staring. Just keeping an eye on you. Like your whereabouts are a matter of public safety. You've been so focused on Eddie, you haven't bothered to pay attention to everyone else.

"It's just…" he starts, and then stops.

"Eddie?" you ask quietly, turning your head back to him. "This is our prom, too." You slide a little closer to him and hold his hand. "And I'm glad I'm here with you."

Eddie leans his forehead against yours and squeezes your hand.

"You think they're upset that we had the nerve to show up?" you smirk.

"Probably ruined their whole night," he grins. "Dear Diary, the freaks crashed prom."

"And ate all the fucking snacks," you laugh.

A flash makes you both jump.

"Sorry," Jonathan Byers smiles apologetically from behind his camera. "You guys were being cute, and Nancy demanded a photo for the yearbook."

"It's cool, man," Eddie grins. "Can we get a copy of that?"

"Sure," Jonathan nods. "They hired a professional photographer for portraits, by the way. Over in the corner. It's included in the ticket price."

"Cool," Eddie says.

"Anddd Nancy's waving me back," Jonathan groans. "You guys have fun tonight. At least some of the freaks should."

You and Eddie both chuckle as Jonathan goes back to Nancy for his next assignment, hearts in his eyes completely undermining his complaints.

"Well…" Eddie puffs his cheeks and blows out a breath of air. He's experienced all that prom has to offer, and is clearly not impressed.

"One picture, one dance, and we're the fuck outta here," you propose.

"Deal," he agrees.

You walk, hand-in-hand, over to the photographer's corner and get in line behind three other couples. Well, two. Kimmy Little sees you standing in line behind her, and drags her date off in the other direction. You and Eddie share a knowing look, but say nothing.

When the time comes, the photographer instructs you to assume the traditional prom photo position, and you do. You let Eddie hold you around the waist and smile like a total fucking jackass for several seconds while you wait for the flash. You and Eddie stumble away with spotty vision and hands tightly clasped. He's your lifeline, and you're not letting him go.

When your vision returns, you look from the bleachers to the exit. Is it really worth walking all the way back over there to sit and be bored, when you could just leave and have this lame night be over with?

Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" starts playing through the gym's shitty speakers, and you smile. You're a sucker for this one. Eddie looks at you with dread. He knows what's coming.

Silently, you slip backward into the crowd and pull him with you. He doesn't protest this time. He follows, eyes not leaving yours. The crowd must have parted for you. Perhaps there are advantages to loving the resident freak. You stand close and put his hands where they belong, and then yours. You stare into Eddie Munson's eyes and sway slowly to a song he tolerates, only for you.

You're glad you came. You're glad you're with him. You're glad this is the song you got to dance to. You're glad he made you swap your heels for sneakers.

But mostly, you're glad when the song is over, because you come together for a quick kiss and make a mad dash toward the exit.

"You son of a bitch," Eddie growls, trying to force his suit onto a hanger.

"Leave it, gremlin, I'll do it."

"Thank you," Eddie grins, throwing his suit on the bed and kissing your freshly scrubbed cheek. You'd washed off all your makeup and hair products together, had a little fun in the shower, put on pajamas, and smoked a joint to wind down. You were thrilled to look and feel like yourselves again. "I'm gonna go pop a pizza in the oven. Put something good on, I need to cleanse my poor ears of the top 40 garbage they were subjected to tonight."

"Yes, dear," you deadpan, hanging up your dress as he exits the room.

"Music!" he whines from the hallway.

"FINE!" you yell back. You pop in the first mix tape you find and turn up the volume. You force Eddie's suit on a hanger, put the formal-wear in the hall closet, and join him in the kitchen.

He's sitting on the counter, watching the clock and drinking directly out of a nearly empty two-liter pop bottle.

"You really know how to treat a girl," you smirk.

He burps in response.

You feel like you should roll your eyes or pretend to be annoyed, but you're so in love with this fucker, you find every dumb thing he does to be charming. You lean on the counter next to him, and he hands you the bottle. You take a swig, then pretend it's a microphone.

"I'm here with Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin, who has just been to his first and last school dance! Tell us, Eddie, how was the Hawkins High prom?" you ask, placing the open bottle by his mouth.

"Sucked dick, thanks for asking!"

"It did not suck dick!" you protest, slamming the bottle on the counter with a slosh.

"It sucked some pretty major dick," he argues.

"You got to spend time with the woman you love! In a formal setting! She wore a damn dress for you!"

"I like her better in pajamas."

"Only because I'm not wearing a bra," you scoff.

"Well… I mean, yeah," he says, hopping off the counter and taking your hands in his. "Don't get me wrong, the dress was great. Have deposited the cleavage situation in the spank bank, so thanks for that. But this is just… better. 'Cause this is us."

When you're right, you're right.

The opening chords of Black Sabbath's "Heaven and Hell" play through Eddie's bedroom speakers, and a wave of appreciation for where you are and who you're with washes over you.

"No bowtie-wearing jocks or frilly little bitches staring at us," you smile, sliding your hands to his shoulders and pulling him close.

"No restrictive clothing," he smirks, letting his eyes linger on your chest as he settles his hands on your waist.

"Eyes are up here, Munson," you remind him as you begin to sway subtly.

He looks up and grins. "Those are pretty okay, too, I guess."

You smack him in the chest, and he laughs.. and then his face falls.

"You tricked me," he accuses.

"How did I trick you?"

"This is our second dance!"

"Yes, but its to our music, so it's counteracting the pop-adjacent one at the actual dance."

"Ugh, fine," he pretends to cave with a roll of his eyes.

You keep dancing until the song starts to pick up, and Eddie looks at you with his eyes full of mischief. He starts moving just a little faster from side to side, swaying with the music as it builds. Before you know it, those spastic moves you tried to coax out of him at prom were coming out in his kitchen. You would have been perfectly satisfied to just watch him dance like a dweeb, but he grabs both of your hands and forces you to join him. You do so happily.

You dance, you spin, and you laugh together in the Munson's kitchen to a mixtape of Eddie's own making. It's the most fun you've had in weeks. Why did you spend so long stressing over prom? Prom was nothing. Prom was a bunch of rich kids in tacky, overpriced clothes that you'd be laughing at in twenty years. This is real. This is what you should be living for.

When the song begins to wind down, you and Eddie are nearly out of breath from all the head-banging and jumping around. The slow dancing resumes without complaint.

"I think this is the Heaven part," you observe.

"Huh?"

"Heaven and Hell," you say, looking up into his beautiful red face. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead. His zit has lessened in intensity after a post-shower application of peroxide. His eyes are big and round and curious. This boy is perfect, and he's all yours. "Prom was Hell. Other people are Hell. This, right here? Me and you? This is the Heaven part."

Eddie's eyes crinkle as he smiles. He pulls you in close and crushes you in a hug. You squeeze him back and breathe in the calming, familiar scent of him. You love this boy more than anything.

"I love you," you mumble into his shoulder.

"I love you too," he responds. "Even if you did make me go to prom."

"This was your idea, fool," you laugh, giving him a backwards shove.

"Not how I remember it," he grins. He laces his fingers and holds them under his chin, bats his eyelashes, and continues in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like you: "'Oh Eddie my love, please, won't you take me to prom? It would be the highlight of my life!' Pretty sure you begged. Groveled, even."

"You are insufferable," you laugh, pushing him away from you.

"You're the one who made me go to prom!"

"You know, Munson, according to the pamphlets that everyone's been throwing at me all week, most teenagers have sex on prom night. But I think you're gonna have to get your ass kicked instead. C'mere."

"No!" he yelps, backing into a corner. "Please! I have children!"

"We don't have to share our pizza with them, do we?" you laugh, too lazy to engage in a play-fight with him.

"Pfft. No." He relaxes. "I wouldn't even share with you if I didn't have to."

Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding!" he insists, coming forward to envelop you in a hug. You go rigid and refuse to hug him back. "I'm kidding. You know I'd save my last Fudge Round for you."

"Oh, really?" you smile, looking up at him.

"Eh… Nutty Buddy, maybe?" He screws up his face in concentration. "Nah. Oatmeal Creme Pie?"

"You are unbelievable," you scoff with a shake of your head.

"You love me anyway."

"Yeah, I guess," you sigh in defeat. "But please don't tell Chief Hopper. It would break his heart."

"Oh my God," Eddie groans, pushing you away and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

You cackle, and the oven timer dings.

This is definitely Heaven, but you've still gotta give him a little Hell.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman

[dreamlandcreations]

In your honour

Feyd-Rautha x Reader

Summary: Feyd tricks you into engagement...

Warnings: implied Atreides!Reader (bc I can't help but ship that ship most) = enemies to lovers (to be), Reader is a bit of a judgy little grump, harassment, misogyny, fight to the death, Feyd is a smitten sneaky little menace, made up Harkonnen customs, hints of angst here and there

🖤 special thank you to @stopeatread and @kasagia for the comments that kept me going 🖤

~ 1,8K words

• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

The celebration for eliminating the Fremen threat was planned to last for a week. You had more than enough of it on the first day though, of the party, of the people, of the black and white planet altogether. You wanted to leave but that would be an insult to the Harkonnens, the hosts of the event, and the fragile peace between your families couldn't take a blow like that.

The Baron was gracious enough to give your family the credit that was due for this achievement, and as one of the honoured guests, you had to be present for all of these nights of celebration, form start to end.

The smalltalk bored you to death, the men were looking at you like meat, and the way the Baron treated the servants made you sick. No, scratch that, the Baron made you sick.

The only remotely good thing was surprising to say the least. The na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who shared your feelings towards the gathered nobles and who proved to be not just an excellent company for your brooding through most of the days you've had to spend here so far but his presence also scared away the men who wanted to try to make a decent or indecent proposition to you.

When you mentioned the offers you received Feyd became irritated but his slightly teasing and a bit accusatory questioning of your too high standards covered up the real reason behind his increasing anger. He didn't want anyone else to even have a chance to have you. It was only the third day of knowing you but he knew he will not be able to let you go. His initial amusement and fascination quickly became an unstoppable obsession and you had no idea.

Not even when the conversation went as far as him trying to convince you that you should take a chance with someone sooner or later and you might have a say in the matter unlike most noble ladies. Your answer stayed with him for the next few days.

"I have no illusions, I know there's no such thing as a perfect match but I want someone who will not try to change me, who I can trust just as much as they can trust me. Someone who would care for me even if love is not an option, someone who could be gentle with me."

That did not help with his anger. He knew it was not your intention but you basically told him that he had no chance. Trust? Care? Kindness? That was everything you can't find in his family. Feyd-Rautha was very well aware he was not right for you but no matter what the tiny little voice of what's left of his conscience told him, he couldn't let you go.

The opportunity came on the second to last day of the celebrations. He had other obligations, so you were left alone to mingle. Feyd kept an eye on you but he didn't notice the Harkonnen general approach you until you made a scene.

The general fell on his knees from the force of your hit that also broke his nose. He quickly recovered though, standing up in a quick motion, stepping into your personal space once again as he threatened you.

"You will pay for that," he said as he tried to grab you again but you stepped back, kicking him in the knee, making him stumble again.

"Try to put your hands on me again and I will end you," you practically growled your response but it only elicited a mocking laugh from the entitled man.

"If you want a fight, little witch, name your champion," he taunted as he straightened once again.

"I can fight my own battles." You declared with your head held high, not letting this excuse of a man making you feel small under his towering height.

The fool tutted at you like you were an ignorant child. "Not here, you can't."

Before you could respond a now familiar, oddly rough and soft voice declared, "I will fight for her."

The gasps across the room were followed by eerie silence. The natives of this planet knew what that meant, the na-Baron was not from your family or in your servitude, therefore, according to thier law his offer changed the challenge and now the price was much higher than the question of your honour.

He descended down the stairs from where he was talking with his uncle and some other nobles not a minute ago. It was a slow, predatory display of movement that made you shiver.

Feyd stopped in front of you but didn't take his eyes off the general until the man confirmed the acceptance of the challenge with a nod. The foul man had the audacity to grin at you with a dark intention of what he will do if he wins.

You look away from that as the na-Baron finally turns to you. His expression is unreadable as he studies you in silence.

"Why?" you finally ask.

His lips pull to a smile but he stops it as he leans in to be level with your downcast eyes. "Why not?"

You clench your fists, insisting,"I am perfectly capable of fighting."

"As he said, that's not how things work here." He bent down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver for an entirely different reason as he whispered, "Maybe you can give me a private demonstration later?"

You huffed, pushing at him by a hand on his chest. He let you but he caught your hand and kept it there, right above his heart as he looked down at you with an unsettling smile glinting in his eyes.

"Show me your blade," he orders, finally letting go of your hand but holding your gaze captive with his.

You take in a shuddering breath as you reply, "I don't know what you're talking about. We were searched for weapons..."

He cuts you off with an amused and accusing look, his brows, or rather where they would be raise in a mocking but expentent move as his drags his gaze slowly over your face and neck, right to the place where your breasts are straining against your dress' corset with each heavy breath.

Your lips part in surprise and that makes him look up, mesmerised for a second before he delivers a more impatient form of that taunting look. Clenching your jaw, you look away for a second, a half shake of your head at this situation is all you can afford. Then you reach into the front of your dress, pulling out the hidden blade and hand it to him.

Fey studies the intricate design of the sheath of the weapon before pulling the blade out, testing the edge against his fingertips. His full lips turn up in a satisfied smile and you are about to comment on it when he presses the sheath to your lips, stunning you once again.

He keeps the light smile as he moves your right hand again to grab the item, his hold sliding from your hand to your wrist as he guides your moves, settling the piece above your heart, making you cross your arm across your chest.

Your heart is beating at an insane beat as you eye him with suspicion, very deep down realising what is about to happen.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper, scared to even make the question, let alone hear the answer.

He grins at you, saying, "Don't worry, I will collect my reward after I dealt with him."

With that he stepped back, putting your blade to his lips and mimicking the gesture he made you perform, then he walked away from you to go back to the podium where his opponent was already waiting for him.

They stood at a few feet from each other, in fighting stance, ready to attack the moment the Baron would let them.

The fight would have been quick but Feyd had other plans.

It was plain to see that the na-Baron was a far better fighter. And given the stories, you know the general must have seen the younger man fight in the arena before so you concluded that he indeed was an utter fool.

You stood there where he left you, surrounded by the morbidly fascinated audience that was witnessing his display. Because that's what it was a show put on for everyone to see.

Yes, he wanted to make the bastard suffer but it was more than that. This will be an example of what happens when someone tries to take away what is his, and all the while it is a chance to show his true power over a real opponent. So Feyd attacked, cut and then retreated to observe the man then he repeated the process. Again and again, until the general couldn't stand. Then Feyd-Rautha cut his throat with a swift move as the defeated man was kneeling before him.

The Baron laughed and spoke to the room, announcing that his nephew just won a wife and everyone was staring at you with disbelief while Feyd-Rautha was basking in his victory. You didn't hear or see any of it though, your focus solely on him, already knowing your fate without anyone telling you.

The next thing you knew the na-Baron was marching towards you and he grabbed you by your nape, pulling you into a forceful kiss. His lips pressing on yours, teeth biting into your lower lip, probably drawing blood as he demanded your surrounder. You gasped at the pain, granting him his wish of you opening up to him and he didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, claiming you publicly while your knees wobbled and you were holding onto him for dear life.

When he finally leaned back, he was smiling as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. "Aren't you going to congratulate me, my lovely bride?"

"Why? You already claimed your reward." Your answer was filled with anger but he didn't mind, he will make you forgive him, he was sure of it. But he couldn't help himself with a little more teasing because he liked to see that fire in your eyes.

"Not yet, my darling. Although if you can't wait for the wedding night, I wouldn't be against it."

You scoff and look away, your gaze finding your father and his mentat discretely arguing then looking back at you. They answer your silent question with a sorrowful expression and your father lightly shakes his head, meaning there is no way to avoid this.

Witnessing the exchange, Feyd clenches his jaw, and he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"No!" he quietly growls through his teeth. "You are mine."

With that, he closes the distance between you again, this time kissing you longer and in a much more gentle manner despite his anger at your reaction. It's a promise that he hopes you understand. For you, he will try.

• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

• original post •

• Taglist •

#feyd #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x you #my stuff #my fics

[smytherines]

Oh my GOD. Anyone who has been around the SAF fandom from the beginning has probably seen this, but I just saw this for the first time five minutes ago, when Twitter put it in my timeline. Holy shit. All this time I've been assuming that "relock the safety barricades" meant putting some kind of limit on the explosives themselves, I didn't realize they were talking about opening and shutting literal blast doors. Everything makes so much more sense now.

So when Curt stopped Owen from relocking the safety barricades, it didn't just lead to an uncontained explosion. If the barricades were shut then Owen wouldn't have fallen so far, he would've fallen onto the barricade. And since the barricade would be shut, he would've had protection from the explosion. He would've presumably been okay. Even if Curt couldn't get to him before the building blew, he had a good chance of survival. Oh my god. I'm never going to recover from this.

Okay so, this tweet is from August 24th, 2016:

And then zoomed in and broken down by figure:

#spies are forever #tin can bros #curtwen #owen carvour #agent curt mega #saf #tcb #joey richter

[heaven-s-black-box]

No Second Chances- Al Haitham x Azar's daughter! wife!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 26th, 2024

Description: Hello sorry if I'm bothering you but I got an idea from this video. (https://youtu.be/ZcMI-CQcZ_c?si=Ri1SQU-0DO6PMtIV) What if the reader is the biological daughter of Azar and is currently married to Alhaitham and they have a toddler who's almost two years old and the reader wants nothing to do with Azar because of what he did though she was willing to try and keep a somewhat healthy relationship with him because at the end of the day Azar was still her father and her child's grandfather, the reader is a gentle, humble and soft-spoken woman who does try to avoid confrontation.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. This one was a little hard to write, so I'm sorry if it's not very good.

Word count: 640

Back to directory

Al Haitham is not known for his empathy. He comes off as cold, he is calculating, and he doesn’t care for other people's bullshit. Those traits serve him well, they keep him out of trouble and on time, and they make it abundantly clear what he thinks of people.

He can count on one hand the people he tolerates excess complaining and illogical arguments from.

“You don’t have to see him,” Al Haitham whispers into the quiet room, tightening his hold on his wife.

She stops squirming, finally, but he knows she’s not done. He’s proven right when she fights against his hold to turn towards him and he opens his eyes to find her staring into his. Y/n places her hands on his chest, above his heart, and takes a deep breath. He can feel the pounding of her heart.

“I want Ehsan to know his grandfather.”

“He will.”

“Beyond what the history books will say,” Y/n sighed.

Al Haitham bit back a sigh. He couldn’t say he agreed with her, Azar hadn’t even been particularly present in her youth, but he understood what she was trying to do. When Azar had come to their wedding, she’d been ecstatic. When Ehsan had been born and he’d sent flowers, she’d started planning a day to bring him by the Academia. To her, Azar’s absence had always been explained and was never malicious so she was willing to give him a chance in her life.

That illusion she’d created, that her father carried, was now teetering after the recent events with the Akasha terminal. It was always so fragile, and now she was looking for a way to break it completely.

“It’s making you anxious,” Al Haitham said instead, resting his chin on her head and rubbing a hand up and down her back. “You hardly ate today.”

“I want my father to meet his grandson at least once, and you and Cyno went through all that trouble-”

“Y/n. We don’t care.”

She lowered her gaze, staring at her hands as she drummed her fingers against his chest. Al Haitham slid his hands around her waist to hold hers and placed a gentle kiss against her ring.

“Ehsan has a wonderful family already.” He nudges her chin up. “And if you tell any of them I said that I will put salt in your coffee.”

Y/n cracked a smile, and Al Haitham put his chin back on her head while wrapping his arms back around her.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered. “You can decide in the morning.”

---

Y/n took a deep breath before nodding at Cyno who opened the interrogation room door and let her in. She stepped in, fiddling with her fingers, and stared at the floor as she made her way to the empty chair. Azar watched her with stern eyes, hands folded on the table.

“I hear you’re being sent to Avidya forest.”

“Yes.”

Taking another deep breath, Y/n pressed her palms flat against the table and squeezed her eyes closed before meeting Azar’s eyes.

“Good luck.”

She got up from the chair and headed back towards the door.

“Is that all?” Azar asked, frowning.

“That’s all.”

“How’s Ehsan?”

Y/n stopped with her hand raised to knock for Cyno.

“He’s good, very smart… like his father. I think it would be better if maybe you take some time to think about things and then, if you want, we’ll come visit.”

“But he’s my grandson,” Azar snapped, making Y/n tense up and dig her nails into the palm of her hand.

“You’ve never met him, and the idea of seeing you makes me so nervous that he gets worried. So, for my son’s sake, goodbye,” she breathed, the shaky exhale causing her shoulders to relax as she knocked on the door.

#researcher s's recovery #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin impact al haitham #alhaitham #al haitham #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #x reader #female reader #oneshot #genshin impact oneshot #rating unavailable

[tanadrin]

i fired up civ 5 recently bc i wanted to see how it compared to my memory of it, and if anything it's actually much, much worse.

one unit per tile just... does not work with the idiom of the civilization series! units are not like armies in a GSG, they're like units in an RTS game: grist for the meatgrinder. you build them and throw them at your enemy and if they lose combat, they die. they don't retreat and recover morale, you don't get a chance to reposition and try again, they just go poof. but now in addition to that, you can only fit one unit of a type on a given tile, which means combat is forcibly spread out over a huge space. it's slow, slowed down further by the fact that it now takes a couple turns to fully resolve a fight--i guess the idea is that you can have your injured units fall back, except because of the way units get blocked in now, no you can't!--but you still need tons of units to take cities.

which means they didn't get rid of doomstacks. doomstacks are still logistically necessary to win wars! they just made them really fucking annoying to move around the map.

and on top of that, because OUPT applies to all units, it means you are also constantly having your scouts and workers and other civilian units being blocked in by your own units of the same type, or other players' units of the same type, meaning if you sign an open borders treaty with the AI you are frequently signing up to having your own units' movement being jammed up in the worst way by computer players. and on top of all THAT the units cancel their movement orders if the destination tile is blocked, even if the destination tile is on the other side of the map and you can't see it--which means, basically, any long-distance movement order is liable to be randomly canceled if an AI unit ends its turn on your destination tile.

it feels janky at every single level. the worst possible fix to something that wasn't even really a problem--and if they really wanted to they could have implemented some kind of very basic attrition mechanic. or some other kind of soft cap.

and and and on top of all that, it makes roads and railroads substantially less useful, bc frequently you cannot actually fit all your guys on one road or railroad--but you can't just carpet your territory in roads now like you used to do, because roads cost maintenance per turn. just. ugh. fractally bad decisionmaking! like different people were working at different ends of the design doc and not communicating at all!

the global happiness system means expansion is soft capped early in the game, which makes it feel less like an empire management game than a game of managing four to five cities. since very many units are now hard capped by resource availability now, and expansion is limited, AFAICT in most normal games this means you get like.. two swordsmen? ever? mainly it's strong attack units that are capped in this way, but their defensive counters are uncapped, which means actually playing strategically with your army composition is more annoyance than it's worth. in practice, what this incentives is just building the best trash unit you can afford en masse and throwing them at the enemy, but, of course, see the problems with OUPT.

they took out civics and replaced them with Social Policy trees. but everybody has the same set of social policy trees. and there's a bit of a tradeoff here in which trees you choose to fill out first, but you never then switch those old trees out for new ones like civics. they're just permanent bonuses. so there's no sense of, like, choosing your government type.

and then in BNW i guess they realized people missed that, and created Ideologies, which are just a bonus extra-big social policy tree where you get to pick between liberal democracy, communism, and fascism. but of course there's only three. and this isn't unlocked until the late game.

what they really should have done is added more civics and rather than just having you progress from early game civics to late game civics made all civics contextually useful. and maybe given you some extra civics that were unlocked early in the game so you could strategize around them.

as a part of this change culture is now more load-bearing, but cultural victory is just... weird and stupidly complicated. you have to build tourism, and do archeology, and build wonders that provide slots for great works that your three different kinds of great artist create, and all this other crap. versus domination, where you just conquer the other guys. or science, where you just build your spaceship. it's dumb and bad and awkward.

there's no conquest victory now. only domination. but because of the way domination works, it's now not possible to move your capital manually. this is awful and i hate it! let me move my capital, damn it!

buildings no longer go obsolete, which means that if i am founding a city in the year 1973, i still need to build a City Walls in it before i can build a Military Base. this feels ridiculous. and the series already kinda has this problem where it feels like late game it takes forever to get a city really up and running--don't make it even worse by making me build shit from classical antiquity before i can build modern facilities!

the AI is not very bright. they don't expand very much. on big maps, most of the map will remain empty most of the game, at least up through mid-level difficulties i usually play at (that are supposed to be "standard", so I assume the game is balanced around them)

diplomacy is irritatingly primitive. there are few ongoing agreements. declarations of friendship all last a fixed amount of time. the AI is constantly interrupting you to tell you it doesn't like you or it does like you or you and another AI player all like each other. just expose an opinion modifier and be done with it! harun al-rashid and i don't need to pass notes like it's grade school!

they nerfed the range of air units and especially nukes. which feels really weird. the 20th century saw the invention of strategic bombers that had a range of thousands of miles. why can mine only reach cities right next to my own? why do my nuclear missiles have a pathetic range? sure, sub-launched nukes are a thing, but they're only one part of a proper nuclear triad. there's no MAD anymore!

especially because the world congress can order you to stop building nukes and there's nothing you can do about it. you can't defy world congress bans and suffer a penalty. international law has some kind of magical force that even if you are the undisputed hegemon you cannot help but obey. this is very stupid! especially because they could not think of anything interesting for the world congress to do, so it's all shit like banning random luxury goods.

all the stuff i do like--the city-states, the hex grid, the core idea of the trade route system--is swallowed by annoying bullshit. to take the trade route example: you can make money by setting up trade routes. it can be quite lucrative! and you have to protect your trade routes from bandits and shit. but the menu for issuing trade route orders is a mess--way too much scrolling, you can't sort by lucrativeness of destinations, you have to constantly re-issue trade route orders, and the last trade route a unit was on isn't highlighted, or sorted to the top or anything like that. so it's lots of scrolling around, it's very annoying, and it's repetitive as hell.

the real stick in the eye is that this game was not only reviewed well, it was reviewed glowingly when it came out. which is bizarre to me! yes, it looks nice. the art is good and the music is pretty. but it feels awful to play! it is on almost every single metric less fun than civ 4! civ 3 is more fun, and civ 3 was terrible. i hope to god firaxis was bribing people left and right for good reviews because the only alternative explanation i can think of is that everybody who was reviewing strategy games in 2010 was also in the grip of a brutal glue-sniffing habit.

#allegedly there are mods to fix OUPT #but i couldn't get them working #and also apparently the game doesn't support modded multiplayer at all?! #jon shafer were you kicked in the head by a horse #why did that sound reasonable to you?!

[shiyosugi]

SICK BLUE LOCK BOYS LETTING THEIR GIRLFRIEND TAKE CARE OF THEM

CHARACTERS: Meguru Bachira, Rensuke Kunigami, Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage, Seishiro Nagi Part 1 - Yoichi Isagi, Shoei Baro, Sae Itoshi, Ikki Niko, Ryusei Shido, Rin Itoshi A/N: I'm back with my usual content. My previous contents had been focusing on one character only so have my usual headcanons with multiple characters! Notice how the part 1 got a LOTS of attention.

Anyone realise that all of the characters in this part has G in their name?

MEGURU BACHIRA || Despite being sick, he somehow gets the energy to still go around and disturb you. You have to remind him that he needed rest and stop him from getting too energetic for no reason. However, Meguru can be understanding from time to time so he listened to you. Enjoying the fact that you are here to take care of him. If he had a very high fever, you would see him lying on bed for most of the times which made your job of babysitting him easier.

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI || He rarely gets sick, but when he does, it is never that serious. [ Before wildcard - He wouldn't mind you taking care of him as you insisted on it, even though he doesn't really need it but it is nice to know that his girlfriend is worried for him and is willing to help him recover. ] [ After wildcard - He still doesn't mind you taking care of him but he would probably let you only do some stuff as he can do the rest by himself. He doesn't really try to hide it but he enjoys it if you caress his back or arm while asking him how he feel now, it makes him feel warm inside. ]

HYOMA CHIGIRI || When he gets sick, he really doesn't feel good and he probably want "princess treatment" or simply wants you to pay attention to his needs. You volunteer to take care of him so he would make a good use to your offer. Besides that, he really just like being around you while he laze around or cling onto you.

REO MIKAGE || If you asked me, I feel like he RARELY gets sick. Even if he was sick it was probably just sore throat or flu. However, that doesn't mean you never have the chance to make him dependant on you. For example, if he is just tired from practice or just not in the mood to do anything, he doesn't mind letting you do things for him.

SEISHIRO NAGI || You don't have to ask, you need to take care of him if he gets sick. If he finds everything to be a hassle he probably doesn't even want to leave the bed if he has a fever which leave you stuck with treating him. Feed him and maybe help him to walk if you have to. Though with him being sick also means that you don't want to be near him for too long which upset him a bit. He wants to cuddle you but you don't allow it because he is sick. With that in mind he makes sure to listen to you, believing that he will get better if he listens to you and is able to receive physical affection from you.

#meguru bachira #bachira meguru #bllk bachira #bllk meguru #blue lock bachira #rensuke kunigami #kunigami rensuke #bllk kunigami #bllk rensuke #blue lock kunigami #hyoma chigiri #chigiri hyoma #bllk chigiri #bllk hyoma #blue lock chigiri #reo mikage #mikage reo #bllk reo #bllk mikage #blue lock reo #seishiro nagi #nagi seishiro #bllk nagi #bllk seishiro #blue lock nagi #blue lock #anime #shiyosugi #bllk headcanons

[yanderes-galore]

Here is my other request: it's a scenario for a platonic Pop (HTF) that wants reader as a new kid. After Cub died for good, Pop lost his sanity to grief, guilt and loneliness, to the point that nothing in his life mattered anymore. Honestly, i think he wouldn't even mind if his paws were covered in blood. Now, entering Yandere territory. Imagine if this Pop found reader, who is in their twenties. The bear meets a kind, gentle and friendly person who ends up captivating him to the point that he starts to act like a father to them. Maybe it's fate giving him another chance. Now, he promises that he will never let anything happen to his new child, even if his claws and fangs are dripping with the blood of more people. (possible scenario: Lifty and Shifty try to rob reader, only to find a broken and angry bear who has nothing left to lose. The result: two mutilated raccoons. You can put as much gore as you want).

OH BOY! Haven't touched Happy Tree Friends in a while. Time to go back to what I do best... psychotic bears.

May have spelling/grammar errors, it was no properly checked for errors.

Projections

Yandere! Pop Story

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of loss, Mind break, Blood, Gore, Death, Major character death (Cub is dead, so are Lifty and Shifty), Manipulation, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Murder, Disturbing descriptions, Dubious companionship.

The death of a child is never easy for a parent. Even if you've seen it countless times... Waking up like it's some nightmare... The trauma sticks with you. Pop thought losing his son would be just another one of his nightmares....

No... life decided it would like to be cruel to him once again.

Pop first lost his wife... now he lost his dearest Cub in a freak accident. The bear still couldn't process the amount of blood on his own fur. He remembers he couldn't stop shaking... his eyes twitching as he stares at the blood on his paws.

Even as he woke up in the morning, it was all still the same. He woke up alone. No wife, no kid, just him.

Just him and the memory of holding his son... Both covered in blood.

Pop didn't think he'd recover. He was tired of these nightmares involving death. All he ever saw was blood deep in his mind and it led the bear to constant nights of suffering.

Pop doubted he'd even be a parent again. He doubted he'd even get to feel the joys of that anymore. No... he was a failure, just a bear undeserving of his own name.

However... then life decided it wanted to play nice again.

Out on a walk, Pop met you.

You were an adult who had been partaking in college. You were at the park to catch some fresh air after studying and came across Pop. Being respectful, you offer chat to the bear.

Pop was hesitant at first but eventually joined you on a bench. From there, Pop learned you were kind... gentle... and friendly. You cared to listen to what he's gone through and you two managed to become good... friends...?

Pop wonders if Cub would've grown up to be just like you if he was alive. The thought brings tears to his eyes for just a moment, yet you manage to distract him from the pain. You... You were such a sweet angel.

Perhaps you were sent to him as a second chance.

A chance to be redeemed as a parent and mentor.

Since your meeting in the park, Pop has offered himself up as a mentor for you. He became someone you could rely on as you worked through college. Part if him wonders how Cub would've done at college....

Unbeknownst to you, you became a replacement for Cub. In Pop's eyes, you were his new kid. A kid he'd do anything to protect...

Anything as long as it meant you lived a safe and happy life.

Pop never took his eyes off you. He had your number in his phone and tried to be near you at all times. He even decorated your nickname in his phone.

Pop often invited you to bowling, he offers to play Tetris with you... He even asks if you like barbecue. He wants to prove he can be a good father figure for you. He's trying his hardest to embrace this second chance he was gifted with.

Although, the true test came quicker than he thought.

Pop never liked Lifty and Shifty. The two raccoons were no good crooks who took advantage of others. He didn't think he could hate them more.

Until he caught them robbing you in an alley.

After that... all that was left was red.

Pop never saw you cower into the corner as he lunged at the two raccoons. Pop never heard himself roar as he tore into their flesh. He barely even tasted the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

The alleyway becomes painted red. The squeals and screeches of raccoons rings out before going dead silent. The smell of gore stings in your nose.

Pop's onslaught only stops when he hears sobbing. Your sobbing brings him back to reality. To him it sounds like the cry of a baby...

His baby.

Pop snaps back, spitting out chunks of flesh as he looks down. Once again... he's covered in blood... and it's not another nightmare. The taste is all real and he stares down at the mangled and gouged corpses of the raccoons who tried to rob you.

His wide bloodshot eyes snap to you. You're crying... screaming... but he saved you. Those raccoons can't hurt you anymore.

They're dead forever... just like Cub... just like his family...

But he has you now... and you have him.

"Sweetheart..." The bear finally speaks, coming closer as you try to scurry away. "It's all going to be okay... they can't hurt you anymore."

You try to run, but the bear quickly pulls you into his arms. You struggle and gag at the feeling of blood and gore in his fur. You want to go home.

"Just relax..." The bear coos. "Papa bear is here now... just calm down."

Eventually you relax yourself in an attempt to appease Pop. He smiles softly... his smile bloody. You convulsed in disgust again before Pop sighs.

"Let's get you home, baby..." Pop chirps, dragging you out of the alleyway.

"We both need to get cleaned up!"

You follow him reluctantly... Too tired and stressed to fight... although you begin to assume you aren't going to your home tonight.

#yandere happy tree friends #yandere htf #yandere pop #yandere pop the bear #platonic yandere

[canonicallyobserving911]

So I saw your post on trying to figure out who’s behind Chimney in the promo, and I gotta mention one thing that’s bothering me and would love your commentary.

So in season 5, episode 4 (I believe?) after Maddie runs away and Chimney is freaking out, and when Buck comes to check in on him, Buck essentially says that no one is making Maddie do anything.

Chimney ends up bringing up Doug. Saying, specifically, “Doug did.”

Buck then says that Doug is dead, and chimney says:

“Is he, though? I mean, did you see a body? Did anyone see a body?”

That line has been bothering me SENSE.

Thoughts?? Or am I just looking too much into things?

Thank you @travelandwriting for the ask.

This answer is in response to this post.

You posed a good question from 5x4 that was brought up during Chimney's conversation with Buck about Maddie's deceased husband, Doug Kendall. I just watched the 2x13 scene of Maddie killing him again to be sure and since the coroner put him in a body bag, it appears he did die after she stabbed him multiple times. Also, she got the insurance money from his death in season 3 when his estate was settled.

If by some chance, he woke up and he's not dead, then the question is, where has he been all this time? Was he recovering in a bunker somewhere?

Now, there's a small possibility (like a .00001% chance) that he woke up (Maddie stabbed him in the shoulder and in the back) while his body was being transported. The fact is there was a HELICOPTER on the scene too and Athena was talking to them on her radio and the aerial view of the scene is below.

Reminder, T.K. was already gone from the 118 so the speculation that follows may not be too farfetched.

If he was flying it and he air lifted Doug out but he woke up during the transport; maybe Doug paid him to keep quiet about him being alive. Also, Doug was a surgeon which means he would know how to fix his own wounds so there's that.

If any of this speculation is true and Doug did wake up, it makes sense why T.K. would want to get next to Buck so Doug could find out where the bachelor party would be so he could finish the job. He stalked Maddie for months starting in 2x10 while he pretended to be Chimney's friend before he stabbed him in 2x12.

Full disclosure: with all the continuity issues in seasons 5 and 6, I'm not sure 9-1-1 would be this detailed but it's not a long shot since TM is back.

Unless they show more scenes in the upcoming trailers, we'll have to wait until Thursday to see who that person standing behind Chimney is.

Thanks again for the ask and have a great day.

#maddie buckley #doug kendall #911 abc #911 on abc #911 spoilers #911 speculation #Canonically Observing 9-1-1 Speaks #Madney #evan buckley #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #chimney han #TW: blood #tw: violence #tw: stabbing #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation

[renaultmograine]

AU where Balnazzar isn't stupid and instead of killing and impersonating Dathrohan during the Third War, he impersonates Calia Menethil

Calia is missing, either dead or intent on never showing her face again, making a prime candidate for impersonation

Being the princess of Lordaeron and the heir to the throne, the remnants of the Silver Hand would fight to the death for her, and with way more conviction than just for one of the first paladins

The amount of damage that could be done wielding the face of a powerful woman cannot be understated. I wholeheartedly believe that Calia-Balnazzar could make them whipped up into the Scarlet Crusade frenzy like. four months tops.

She's the princess. What are you going to do, argue with her? Tell her no?

None of the paladins likely know her that well, so Calia-Balnazzar could bullshit damn near anything she wanted to, while Dathrohan-Balnazzar would be constrained incredibly.

POV you're ill from a ~mysterious illness~ and the big tiddy priestess princess herself tends to you and comforts you and agrees that your dad really is shitty :( you should do something about that :)c

Realistically speaking, they would have to arrange a marriage for Calia-Balnazzar for when they reclaimed Lordaeron, and there's so many good options to pick from (for Calia-Balnazzar to have an easily manipulated husband). (Also no one knows real Calia is married with a child).

Taelan: sad man but he's well respected and the Lord of Hearthglen, where all their operations have been based out of. Too depressed about his dad to be any real hindrance to any schemes but that also means he might lack that driving force of pure insane zealotry.

Renault: younger, more emotionally unstable, clearly wanting someone to validate him. He's going to destroy whatever you point to with some hyping up, but he's definitely going to destroy himself at some point if he doesn't calm the down, and you're not going to want to be standing next to him when that happens

Darion: fairly younger, but that makes him more manipulable, and this whole 'recovering Lordaeron' nonsense is taking a while anyway. Sad about his dad so don't mention you encouraged Renault to kill him, but like. This is Darion we're talking about. Mister "I will interpret whatever you say into 'kill yourself for me' and then do it." He's going to be ride AND die if you don't fuck it up. You will need another man after he dies though. Well maybe not he's rather committed.

Decent chance Sally smites her. This crusade is NOT big enough for two bad bitches--there's a reason why Brigette Abbendis fucked off to Northrend--and it defintely isn't when Calia-Balnazzar is cozying up to Renault.

I want to say Sally/Calia-Balnazzar for the fun of it but I legitimately cannot imagine Sally doing anything more than tolerating her, even with the mind control shit.

Real Calia currently larping her tradlife with her unnamed husband and child finding out that the Princess has been found and that she's to be wed once the kingdom is returned and deciding she's not going to touch that with a thirty foot pole >>>> the FUNNIEST Before The Storm scenes imaginable if the crusade does manage to reclaim Lordaeron

#basically i think the problem with a lot of the dreadlord stuff is that its written from a male perspective #metzen i can fix that if you ever bring them back shoot me an email #also dont ever bring them back #warcraft

[bryhoney]

Recognisance Pt.3

Keegan POV!

(yay!)

I may come back and edit this if I proofread it again...

previous

Keegan knew it was a set-up. 

He knew that Rorke had purposefully leaked the intel of his next location to bait them. Among the information recovered was your old alias, and that’s all it took to lure the Ghosts. 

He hated that they were playing right into Rorke’s hand. He rolled his shoulders, trying in vain to ease the tension between his muscles. He’d been lying on rocky terrain for hours, anticipating Rorke’s arrival. 

Merrick had picked a mountainous region a few miles from the target coordinates to conduct the re-con mission. It was further than Keegan would’ve liked but he knew to trust Tom on this. Keegan was barely in his right mind. 

He knows that he should’ve sent Kick in his place but, much like the Walker brothers, he’d insisted he was sent out. It was meant to be a standard surveillance mission; observe and report back. Engage only if necessary. 

Yet, the three men were completely wired, hardly speaking to one another. Logan sat to his immediate right, lying in the same position as Keegan, staring down the scope of his rifle. Hesh sat beside his brother, he had been meticulously recording parts of the compound a few hours ago. Now, he watched the scanner in front of him impatiently whilst quietly petting Riley who lay beside him. 

Keegan couldn’t be sure which of the brothers bore the brunt of the guilt over your capture; Logan who knew that Rorke was after him, that if you hadn’t intervened you wouldn’t have been captured. Or Hesh, the eldest sibling by mere months, who believed he’d failed at keeping you safe. Who had watched Rorke toy with his brother before taking you, he’d been unable to stop him. 

Keegan had read several reports of that day, but only the reports filed by the Walkers detailed what had happened to you. 

A mechanic had written about how you’d commandeered one of the available helicopters when you realised there wasn’t any exfil for your brothers. 

A pilot had described watching your aircraft being tailed, how you’d screamed down the comms when Hesh had called for ‘Checkmate’. He watched you go down as close as you could to the tracks, a lucky shot from the Federation had caught your rear propeller.

Hesh had described how Rorke had been dragging Logan away when he first saw you, bruised and bloodied from the crash landing, carrying only a knife. He watched you stalk up the beach, barefoot towards Rorke. You’d launched yourself at Rorke, plunging the knife into his shoulder, mere inches from his jugular. He’d moved at the last possible moment. 

Your brother’s report detailed your bravery, and how you managed to initially subdue Rorke. Keegan could feel Hesh’s pride as he described his sister, a civilian, going against one of the most experienced soldiers in the country, the former leader of the Ghosts. 

While you’d been raised by soldiers, and been taught combat manoeuvres, you never trained as a soldier. 

He’d overpowered you in the end, and Hesh had to watch as Rorke slammed your head against the rocks you had fought so valiantly on. 

Rorke had taunted the brothers, laughing through pained breaths at how much easier it would be to break Elias’ only daughter. He told them he was coming back for Logan. How it was his fault his sister was taking his place. 

He’d laughed as he carried you away. 

It had broken Keegan’s heart, there you were, his girl, fighting for your brothers. 

The reports unnerved him, Rorke was a man who’d taken a .44 to the chest and still managed to walk away. You didn’t stand a chance against him. 

Keegan had berated himself for months after you were declared a P.O.W. He hadn’t been there to protect you, he’d done nothing to stop Rorke. He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, to tell you-.

Movement to his right caught his eye, interrupting his thoughts. It was Logan, who’d gently reached into his breast pocket to retrieve the picture he carried with him everywhere.

It was of the Walker children, you were between Hesh and Logan who were wearing their tactical gear. You had an arm over each of their shoulders as they raised you into the air, so the three of you were the same height. Hesh was doing his best to lift Riley into frame with his free arm. You were laughing, the sun shining brightly behind you.

Elias had made his children recreate the photo every year after your adoption at age four, the boys had quickly outgrown you. 

You’d been missing for the last two years and Elias was no longer there to take the picture. 

Keegan swallowed the lump in his throat. 

He forced himself to look away, to shake off the heavy weight that settled over him whenever he thought of you. 

His relationship with you had begun to change into something more in the months leading up to your capture. He remembers the dressing-downs he’d received from each of the respective Walkers when they found out. 

He also remembers how you’d confronted them after, giving it back to them as good as they gave. 

It had been only weeks before his death when Elias had summoned Keegan to his Office. Yet, the infamous Scarecrow had sat opposite him and smiled, placing a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder before saying, “You treat my girl right”. It was an order and a thinly veiled threat all rolled into one.

Keegan had failed him, had failed you. 

His hand seized; he wanted to hurt someone. He wanted someone to hurt just as badly as he did. 

Hesh’s voice broke the silence, “Picking up a helo, two minutes out,” his voice was calm, steady. 

Silently, the three men looked onward, fixating on the landing pad to the south of their position.

Keegan swore he heard Logan release a shaky breath, he would’ve reached out to check on him if he hadn’t been so focused. 

There.

A helicopter burst over the top of the mountain range to their left, moving quickly towards the helipad. This was it. Hesh fumbled momentarily, before setting up the feed again and recording the scene in front of him. Riley stood up, alert, as though he understood what was happening and what was at stake. So far, he’d found no trace of Federation soldiers being out in this area and would let them know if he sensed anyone approaching on foot. 

It left the men to focus on the mission. 

Keegan mentally talked himself through his breathing as he watched the helo come in for landing. His composure was outwardly calm, displaying no visible weakness.

His heartbeat was traitorous, amping up as he watched heavily armed men and women exit the aircraft. 

His eyes narrowed as he recognised Rorke’s figure stepping onto the tarmac, Keegan watched as Gabriel turned raising his arms before-

“No-” Hesh breathed. 

There you were. 

Alive

And right there. 

Rorke was holding you, guiding you away from the helo as it began gearing up to take off. He led you towards a group of individuals that had assembled just minutes before your arrival. 

Keegan couldn’t make out your features, your emotions. He couldn't-

Hesh continued, “I’ll fucking kill him-”. 

Riley growled next to the boys, mimicking his owners. 

Keegan knew he should’ve told him to shut the fuck up but he too was blinded by rage. 

He was seething, you were right there and Rorke was holding you as though-

What’s he done to you, Baby?

Logan’s voice was quieter, more frantic, “Why-? What’s he doing? Has he?” his voice laced with anguish and Keegan forced himself to regain control, he wasn’t losing another Walker today. 

“Quiet, both of you. Keep the feed steady, we’re getting her back”. He was almost surprised by how calm he sounded, how unphased he appeared. 

“That’s my fucking sister-” Logan choked on his own words, his anger silencing him. The outburst from the quietest, most reserved Walker revealed his fraying hold on his composure.

They were going to get you all killed. 

“This is what he wants, do not give it to him. That's an order, Logan” Keegan paused for a moment before adding, “He’s taken Elias from us, I’m not letting him take her too”. 

He was a Ghost, he could do this. 

He’d failed to get Ajax back-

No. 

Hesh’s voice was both frantic and yet soft, “Yeah- Yeah, we will. We’ll get her back, Logan. I promise”. 

They watched as Rorke led you away from the group and towards the edge of the rooftop. It was almost a sheer drop onto the rocks, the base had been carved out of the side of a mountain. You wouldn't survive the fall. 

Logan shifted his stance immediately, his hand moving to the trigger of his weapon. He was no longer just watching the base, he was now actively locked onto a target with a loaded weapon.

“Do not engage, Kid” Keegan grunted, “He’s baiting us, do not engage!” Yet, his finger itched to pull back on the trigger. Hypocrite. 

Keegan prayed he made the right call as he watched Rorke stand behind you, leaning you over the edge. His jaw aches from clenching his teeth, he's doing nothing to stop Rorke.

Was he going to drop you?

“Keegan?” Hesh’s voice rose in panic, seeking an answer that Keegan didn’t have. 

He watched as you moved your hands to wrap around Rorke’s forearms as he leaned you even further over the precipice. You lifted your head skyward to accommodate the precarious angle you were balancing at. 

He was going to watch you die. 

No.

Please, No. Not you. 

He’d only just found you again. 

Your neck was exposed and he watched as Rorke moved to dip his face towards the expanse of your neck. It looked-

Keegan’s blood boiled and he immediately lost his cool, “that motherfucking-” he spat through gritted teeth. He hadn't even realised he'd readjusted his rifle, aiming directly for the man's skull. His breathing was heavy as he fought for control over himself. 

He knew we’d be watching.

Just as quickly as it had started, it was over. 

Rorke brought an arm around your shoulder before turning you forcefully away from the edge. Keegan watched as the pair of you moved towards the compound entrance before vanishing behind reinforced doors. 

He vaguely hears Logan throwing something behind him, yelling incoherently. 

I’m gonna get you out of there, Kid. I promise.

#cod x reader #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #logan walker #call of duty ghosts #walker!reader #hesh walker #angst time #sorry!!! #walker siblings being cute :(

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Shuji and you having your first baby and in the middle of the night you both fall into bed, no sleep for days, he's full of drool and red marks from the baby pinching him and you weren't able to wash your dirty hair nor change your wet clothes from bathing and when you look at each other he goes like "I want another one"

this was gonna be cute and playful and a tad spicy but it ended up full of feelings and for that i will never apologize. i will apologize for it being kinda rushed and unproofread tho. i just got SO EXCITED

You can't help but break into laughter that doesn't quell easily and you know that if you could see through your laughter tears shuji is pouting at you. He tsks and snakes his arms around your waist to pull you close. Braving the dampness of your hair, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and then Hanma Shuji, ex Yakuza, the infamous Ikebukuro reaper all but whines your name, "M'not kidding."

"No! No-i know I just-" you struggle to contain your laughter. You match you husband's embrace and let the pads of your fingers crawl up his neck into the too-long hair at his nape. He smiles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder and shushes you even though your laughter and the gentle bounce of his head from your giggle fit fills him with more love than he could hope to express. And, well, of course he shushes you because neither of you can risk another sleepless night by waking the little newborn Shuji finally got to go down. "Shu," you finally manage to get out, "Don't be in such a rush! We hardy know what we're doing with him!"

"We'll figure it out." He says but catches himself. "We are figuring it out!" Your heart stops at how earnest he sounds. You hold him a little tighter. "Besides, there's nothing that you can't do while I look pretty on the sidelines." His tone is teasing and you swat his back playfully. You hope it's a joke. He's nothing if not an extraordinarily attentive father and husband.

You place a kiss to his forehead and trace your words with your lips along his temple. "Sidelines? More like frontline. You know I couldn't do this without you, Shuji."

You can't be sure, but you think you feel his breath pause on your neck before he starts peppering your neck and collar bone in sugary sweet kisses. "And I can't give my son a sister without you." He fires back once he recovers his emotional footing.

He earns another huff of laughter, "Shuji-"

"C'mon, he needs someone to figure life out with. He needs someone to play with and tease. Ideally someone who'll give it right back too - that'll be her mommy's influence of course." Shuji's words all mix together and his ideas flow into the most wholesome speech you swear you'd ever heard. He shifts up and leans on elbow to hover inches from your face giving you the perfect vantage point to see his gold irises alight with every tender emotion.

"And...and he needs someone to always have in his corner. Someone who can be there for him when we can't. You know, we won't be able to be there all the time! He needs someone he can rely on and learn to be reliable for. He needs to learn how to protect and be protected." His eyes, you realize are shiny with misty tears. "He needs someone he can be his full self around. Someone who won't look down on him for feeling...anything."

He goes silent and you mutter a little "c'mere," and pull him into your arms. The dampness on your chest is fresh, not from your hair, but from the love of your life blinking sudden emotion into your skin.

After a moment of holding your husband you feel his deep voice whispers into your chest "Wanna braid her hair too."

You giggle as you pull Shuji's face to yours to kiss him and mumble an "Of course, baby. Let's give him a sibling, but giving him a sister is kind of on you."

A few exited kisses later, you were falling asleep on his chest, promises to start preparing for a second kid soon. As soon as possible (read: as soon as you both could recover a bit of sleep, maybe). You lay there, fingers trailing up and down the column of Shuji's throat absently, ready to do anything to give your son everything that Shuji never had. Love. Stability. Safety. And now, even a little sister to take on the world with.

Well, a sibling, at any rate.

#ERIS ERIS ERIS WHAT HAVE YOU DONE #I MAY NEVER RECOVER FROM DAD SHUJI #please im sorry i made it sad and made him maybe wayyyyyyy to feelingsy #bUT I JUST THINK HE NEEDED ALL THOSE THINGS GROWNIG UP #AND NEVER HADTHEM #AND HE WANTS BETTER FOR HIS KIDS #AND HE DOESN:T REALIZE IT AS OVERTLY AS YOU DO BUT HE WISHES HE HAD SOMEONE IN HIS LIFE THAT WAS A GOOD FORCE LIKE THAT #LIKE He'S SO LOYAL YOU KNOW? #AND I JUST KNOW HIS CHILDREN WOULD BE THICKER THAN THEIVES #US AGAINST THE WORLD VIBES #AND BE CONFIDENT AND MORE EMOTIONALLY WELL ROUNDED THAN HE HAD THE CHANCE TO BE #hanma shuji ~❤️ #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x reader fluff #hanma shuji x reader angst #dad!hanma #lololm

[carbonateddelusion]

I know I haven't said much about it, but legitimately, "running away" was one of the most pivotal life decisions I've ever made. Probably THE first major life decision I've made, and also the best. If you have an opportunity to go, leave. Get out of there. If you are not safe at home, emotionally, physically, whatever, and you're able to leave, do it. It's going to suck such major ass for a while because you're going to have to deal with the scars they've left on you, but I wholeheartedly, full-throatedly, with-my-chest promise you that it is going to be better. You're going to be better. If you have the privilege of being able to escape, no matter how difficult it feels, then RUN.

#whatever you leave behind is not your responsibility. sometimes you're gonna have a fucked relationship with the siblings you 'abandoned' #but they have to understand that you had to leave. and that you were actively fighting to take them with you the entire time #it's okay to be selfish. you need to be selfish to start to recover. #if you have to be homeless please look up and do your research on local resources first. plan things out. #i was lucky enough to have family who'd been waiting years and years for this moment to happen #if you can go and have your college dorm as a safe haven then absolutely take that chance #if you can go and rent an apartment with the money from your job then take that chance #plan shit. do it. even if your brain fights you. you do not want to be out there without proper precautions or else you could end up- #-seriously fucked over. #also i know i'm encouraging people to get out but in equal measure: #if it isn't safe to leave you are not lesser for staying. #if it's winter and you can't be out there alone you are not complicit in your own abuse yk? #if you have family you CANNOT leave behind like extremely young siblings then you are not at fault for staying. #i was lucky enough to be able to leave quickly and (relatively) painlessly and i'm aware that not everybody can do that #sometimes staying IS the better choice. but that's a choice YOU have to make not me #assess your situation properly. are you staying for your own safety or because you're scared? #etc etc. obviously take all of this with a grain of salt i don't have all the life experience in the world just what little i have #also: prepaid phones are a godsend. MRIs. canned food. make sure to have first aid kits if needed. plan ahead. have a stash somewhere safe #rox rumblings #me things

[formulatrash]

What do you think about Daniel Ricciardo?

idk if it was the water at Enstone or whether Cyril was treating him well or whatever but his hair has never looked as good as it did when he was at Renault

#nah i mean i have thoughts #but i'm having a really bad week and every element of discourse around daniel is completely insane #from the mad takes that doing a fast lap on an empty track in this year's best car means he won't struggle in this year's worst #to the idea he's like totally fine now bro totally fine just had that time off that he needed and he's FINE #and maybe he is but like hmmmmmmmmmmm #to like if you're not riding his dick 24/7 you want the las vegas grand prix to fail commercially #and apparently it's good to be commercially viable when it's someone you fancy but bad if it's an asian person #so #lots ot unpack here isn't there #but mostly i hope that daniel is in fact recovered and has in fact thought through what he's doing because that dogshit AT ain't it #and it's clearly upsetting yuki already like that crushing moment after his penalty for only the second chance at points #that's not an uphill struggle garage that's sisyphean #i just hope all the cars have fun

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & Last Line Tag

Tagged by @poisonedtruth

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @shallow-gravy @direwombat @voidika @g0dspeeed @adelaidedrubman @chazz-anova @cassietrn @deputy-morgan-malone @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @strangefable @derelictheretic @wrathfulrook @inafieldofdaisies @minilev and @jillvalentinesday

Paul Yellowjack is a character who has gone through many changes. He started as Silva's first real father figure, a teacher who raised her on morals to live by, protected her from Adam when the poor-excuse of a man wanted her back, and lead his people in a revolution against their violent oppressors on the Archipelagos. Ultimately, after the massacre though, he ended up as a tragic fallen hero whose core morals corrupted when put through tragedy after tragedy, leaving bitterness to take his heart and (regrettably) lash out at the world, before Silva could restore his hope again. Left down a dark path for so long he can no longer return as the man Silva once knew (even if there are shades of him deep inside the villain he has become), and sadly neither wishes him to, Paul because of his self-loathing, Silva because of the pain he inflicted on her. There is a longing between them, but both have gone down two different paths, with no way to return to one another (or at least, that's what both believe). I believe this song reflects his turmoil perfectly. I'll probably explain in the tags.

"I want you by my side So that I never feel alone again They've always been so kind But now they've brought you away from me

I hope they didn't get your mind Your heart is too strong anyway We need to fetch back the time They have stolen from us

And I want you We can bring it on the floor You've never danced like this before We don't talk about it Dancin' on, doing the boogie all night long Stoned in paradise Shouldn't talk about it

And I want you We can bring it on the floor You've never danced like this before We don't talk about it Dancin' on, doing the boogie all night long Stoned in paradise Shouldn't talk about it Shouldn't talk about it

Coldest winter for me No sun is shining anymore The only thing I feel is pain Caused by absence of you

Suspense controlling my mind I cannot find the way out of here I want you by my side So that I never feel alone again

And I want you We can bring it on the floor You've never danced like this before We don't talk about it Dancin' on, doing the boogie all night long Stoned in paradise Shouldn't talk about it

And I want you We can bring it on the floor You've never danced like this before We don't talk about it Dancin' on, doing the boogie all night long Stoned in paradise Shouldn't talk about it Shouldn't talk about it

And I want you We can bring it on the floor You've never danced like this before We don't talk about it Dancin' on, doing the boogie all night long Stoned in paradise Shouldn't talk about it

And I want you We can bring it on the floor You've never danced like this before We don't talk about it Dancin' on, doing the boogie all night long Stoned in paradise Shouldn't talk about it Shouldn't talk about it

And last line for The Years In Hope County, which is getting pushed for possibly next week.

"We've come a long way. You've come a long way," Elsa tells [Sylvester], downing the latte in her hands like shots at the Fairgrave's bar, "You may not see it but... we're already honouring them, just by being alive."

#far cry the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #oc: paul yellowjack #fic: the years in hope county #oc: elsa omar #so with paul and silva one of their favourite pass times was dancing #and their dance was always a way for them to feel connected with each other and express their familial affection to one another #however the “dance” as described in the song has changed #“you've never danced like this before” being a euphemism for “you've never desired to kill me before” #who “they” refer to are those who have “stolen” silva away from paul especially now in his villainy #that being the residents of hope county and her remaining family like elsa + persephone and allies like gavin and kamski and etc #“coldest winter” and “no sun is shining” refers to both literal examples #like the archipelagos #as well as metaphorical #like his emptiness and loss of silva #“we don't/shouldn't talk about it” refers to both the lack/loss of communication between silva and paul #and paul's guilt preventing him from acknowledging and processing the event that completely destroyed any chance of recovering silva's love #“i cannot find a way out of here” is essentially being unable to escape his eternal servitude to zachariah the orchestrator #“you're heart is too strong anyway” #paul acknowledges that the morals he and others' had taught silva has made her defiant and against his attempts to bring her into villainy #(which also stops silva from giving up and is part of the reason she refuses to join eden's gate and their violence in the future) #it is something he can't help but feel pride and relief from #there's more but you can probably come to your own conclusions on what those are #Youtube

[conjuring-ghouls]

Why is it that when things aren't well in your life, it has to be all at once? Why can't it be one thing at a time so you can actually deal with things, address them and it doesn't feel completely overwhelming?

#i mean... why 😭 #i understand things aren't perfect all the time #and that things pass #but why on earth every single thing has to happen at the same time? #why can't i at least have the chance to process and recover from one thing before the next one sends me faceplanting in wet mud?

[self-spaghettification]

the theories in my drafts 👁️👁️

the theories i haven’t read 👁️👁️

me the past few weeks😴

me now 🔥🔥

#self spaghettificationn #we’re so back <33 (for now) #me when i hyperfixate on the show and am unable to do anything else (so i have been trying to do it not as much lately yk) (but i think it’ #at least healthier than the depression i’ve been in lately lmfao #op lore #i was also lowkey recovering from rejection via a parasocial relationship/microfixation i had #before i realized i should be enjoying this for myself not for how other people perceive my content <33 #and there are a lot of other cool people who do love and perceive my content in a positive light #so i really shouldn’t let small letdowns get to me even though i often do lol #and i always was lively around friends and felt like doing stuff for myself with them but felt so sad and empty when they left #but i think i just need to start giving MYSELF the time of day TOO! #even if that is a weird time of day. because it’s still A time!! and it’s what works for me <33 #so yeah. heres a vent slash motivation depending how you take it #chances are if you’re reading this you’re a cool person too