#this is one of the last dump of drawings for this play through

[lexch4n]

Durge kills her sister and become Bhaal’s chosen, wow she’s not redeemable now Gale stop trying

Previous Durge Post

#artwork #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 durge #dark urge #gale of waterdeep #minthara #minthara x durge #jaheira #astarion #orin the red #I didn’t think orin’s death would make me feel bad but here we are #this is one of the last dump of drawings for this play through #I’m almost done and I’m sad #BUT. I will do a third full evil durge playthrough #bg3 spoilers

[inktog]

Some people seem confused about the John dreams, so I wanted to spell out what I think is happening.

In the dreams, there are two characters: he and she. While he is obviously John, she is somehow both Harrow and Alecto. When he directly addresses her—as you—he seems to be talking to the planet Earth, to Alecto. The only way out was to dump the population on an exoplanet, he says. It was about giving you breathing room, you know? But when he names her, her name is Harrowhark. She, for her part, speaks very little, but in the last dream she speaks blatantly as Harrow: “Teacher, what does it mean for a child of the Ninth to love God?”

The dreams are in a River bubble. This is pretty obvious: the bubble parts at end of the last dream, and she—Harrow—walks in the direction of the tower. Exactly how they ended up here remains to be seen, but this isn't a first for Harrow; the Canaan House bubble in HTN happens while she's dreaming or unconscious.

In the last dream, he asks, “Do you remember what happens now?” And she says, “Yes. Through her, I've seen it.” She's talking about the Resurrection and the Eightfold Word, but if we retroactively apply this lens to the dreams—to his account of the extinction event—it resolves the contradiction of her. Harrow is seeing, learning, through Alecto's eyes. More specifically, they have swapped dreams (just as they have swapped bodies): Nona dreams of Gideon’s forgiveness, and Harrow dreams of crawling with John through the wreckage of the planet he destroyed only yesterday.

In the dream bubbles—in 2011—little pockets of pseudo-reality within the maddening horror and nonsensical spacetime of the Furthest Ring, the dead and dreaming reenact old memories; at least once, a character (Aranea) pretends to be someone else (AG) for the sake of a reenactment. Likewise, Harrow and John are acting out one of Alecto's memories. They sometimes break character to talk as their present-day selves, but they are otherwise passive observers in this dream-memory. Thus, John’s account is not (as I've seen some people claim) filtered through a myriad of self-denial. This isn't the John from HTN with a perfect lie ten thousand years in the making. It's John in the wake of his very recent omnicide, scrambling to explain himself to Alecto.

Direct dialogue in the dreams usually forgoes quotation marks. But sometimes it uses them, including but not limited to: every time he calls her Harrowhark or Harrow, every time she calls him Lord or Teacher, and the entirety of the final dream. We can infer that quotation marks are used when, and only when, the speaker breaks character. This clears up some things. Like how Then they were gone…lost it time to me forever (past John) becomes “They are still out there. There can be no forgiveness” (present John). However, we've reintroduced an old problem.

In the dream, he says, “This is the part where I hurt you. Are you ready?” (With quotation marks.) In the dream, he says, “Do you remember what you said to me once I had done it? When we stood here together?” (With quotation marks.) In the dream, he calls her “beloved” and “love.” (With quotation marks.) In the dream, he makes a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wipes that E clean, and replaces it with A. He wipes that clean, and he draws the prison bars of H. This J and H he bars around with an uneven heart. John—our John, present-day John—is conflating his old love with his new student. Harrow plays along, and in doing so gains some more answers.

In the dreams, she says, “I still love you.” (With quotation marks.)

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth #john gaius #alecto #harrowhark nonagesimus #meta #mine #ntn spoilers

[auteurdelabre]

Please Mister Miller? Part 5 CheatingJoel!Millerxf!Reader

"Please Mister Miller" part 5

Rating: 18+

Words: 4.3k

Tags/warnings: Cheating, Unprotected P in V, Dirty Talk, Public Sex, Almost Caught, Joel has a ‘Daddy’ kink, car sex, mirror sex, Feelings

Summary:  Joel has to run errands and you tag along. . .

a/n: I took a poll and y’all wanted to see this sleazy pair keep gettin’ off so I hope you like it! As usual drop the comments because I live for ‘em.

masterlist

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“I'm heading into town," Joel says with eyes on everyone but you. "Gotta get some replacement lights and run a few errands if anyone wants to join."

It's the next morning and you're all around the breakfast table eating cereal and chatting about your plans for the day. You're seated next to Joel, eyes on your bowl as your thigh presses against his under the table. He keeps his leg there, not shying from your touch. It makes you feel warm all over.

"I can't," Sarah says, the lie she told you yesterday already on her lips. "I have to grab a few things from the storage locker before we go home." 

She's really going to see Charlie one last time before she heads home. 

"I'm going to the office for a few hours, remember?" Tess says through a mouthful, her eyes on her phone. 

"Oh right," Joel says as if he'd forgotten.

"I could go with you," you say lightly. "I have a few things I need to mail off back home."

"Sure, if you want."

Joel shrugs back as if he couldn't care less. But seated next to him you see the swell of his cock under his jeans. He's eager. 

That's good because so are you.

///

When you finally pull on your jacket and follow him to the garage an hour or so later you're forced to pause as you glance around curiously. You've never been in here, haven't seen this domain of his.

He's got a workbench meticulously organized with cork holders on the wall. But that's not what amazes you when you draw over to it. It's the tiny intricate carvings there, one of a snowman and another of an angel.  

"I didn't know you carved," you say curiously. 

Joel shrugs, not saying more. You know why, it's the same reason you don't share more about yourself. It's not relevant to what you want from one another. 

"Ready to go?"

You nod, pulling yourself up into his truck and buckling yourself in. He backs out of the driveway, neither of you speaking.

For some reason this feels tense, the drive quiet and punctuated only by the gentle hum of the radio playing holiday favorites. Eventually the tension gets to Joel because he clears his throat. 

"So you're goin' back tomorrow."

"Yep."

"You excited?'

You look at Joel from the corner of your eyes, amusement clear in your features. It's such a dad thing to say. He looks uneasy, his dark eyes flicking from you to the road. 

"You don't have to pretend like you care," you tell him gently. 

"Who says I don't?"

"Joel," you say the meaning clear. 

This is fucking. This is carnal. This isn't a relationship. It's not a friendship. It's release, plain and simple. 

Joel doesn't like this. You can see it in the way he drums his thick fingers over the wheel, his dark brows furrowed. He's a man who cares, even if he tries not to and so he tries another tactic. 

"You got someone waiting for you back at school?"

You give a scoff.  "Nope. Got dumped right before Christmas. S'why Sarah brought me with her."

Joel gives a humming noise, looking thoughtful, his presence calming. It makes you feel like you should continue. 

"He was my first boyfriend," you say with your eyes on your hands in your lap. "When we broke up he said it was because he didn't want to settle down with the only girl he slept with."

Joel inhales slowly through his nose, your words upsetting him enough to now tighten his fist around the steering wheel. 

"Idiot boy to let you go."

You give a weak smile, holding back the tears that build behind your eyes. "The worst part is I thought we were getting engaged."

Joel's eyes widen. "Shit."

"Yeah," you nod again. "But, you know, it was for the best. I've realized after this week with you that he was terrible in bed."

Joel lets out a surprised laugh at this; warm and full. It makes you smile to hear it. He says nothing further and the silence descends once more, but this one comfortable. Eventually you stop at a big box store with Joel jogging in to grab the lights he told Tess he'd bring home. 

As you watch him you can't help but imagine what life as Joel's partner would be like. A cozy home with beautiful paintings on the walls. The smell of leather and wood shavings clinging to him as he rolls over in the morning, gathering you into his arms. 

There's a longing there, a sudden desire for more than sex. A warmth that you weren't expecting when this all started. 

Joel returns shortly with a box of lights under his arms and a plastic bag in the other. You look at his body, the wide shoulders and the strong thighs. Your eyes meet his and you see the desire in them as he winks at you. 

If you can't have him as your partner, you'll have him now. You'll have him any way you can. Joel gives you a small smirk as he tosses the lights and bag in the back seat of the truck.

"If Tess asks, you and I had a hard time choosing the best set."

You and I.

His words rattle around in your mind. 

You steal glances at him as the drive continues out of town, to where the trees are fuller, the landscape more desolate. You feel Joel's hand on your knee, fingers tracing small lines over the inside of your bare thighs. 

You sigh happily, basking in the warmth of Joel's touch. When his hand slides higher you part your legs without hesitation, eyes watching from under lowered lids as his long fingers skate under your skirt. 

His fingers curl under the fabric, ready to hit cotton and you hold a giggle as you wait for him to realize. He darts a look at you. 

"No panties?"

"Nope," you grin. 

"Good fucking girl," Joel murmurs approvingly. His voice scratches an itch deep inside you, making you preen. 

Traffic is thinning but the roads are still populated enough. That doesn't stop Joel from curling his fingers into you, marveling at how wet you are. 

"Always ready for me."

"Uh huh," you keen, hand flying to his. You maneuver his wrist slightly, pushing it deeper at that angle and crying out when it hits that sweet spot. 

"That's right," Joel encourages with a grin. "You show me what you like." 

He drives the truck, cock hard under his jeans as you give shuddering breaths beside him. His fingers dance over your slick clit as you try to remain composed, hearing as your cunt milks his fingers, your thighs quivering. He darts his eyes from you to the road and back again.

"C'mon baby," Joel urges you, his cheeks pinking. "Gimme a good one."

You do. Your hips buck into his hand as you cry out, body jolting in the seat and feeling your warm release dripping over his palm like honey.  

You watch in a daze as Joel brings his slick fingers out from under your skirt to his mouth, licking slowly. 

"Tastes so sweet," he rumbles. 

You let out a small moan at the sight of it. Your hand reaches for the bulge in his jeans but he shakes his head, gently pressing your hand away to fold back in your lap. 

"Not yet," he says with a voice of sin. "Be patient."

You don't have to be patient for much longer. In less than fifteen minutes you've arrived at the destination, a large dirt pile on one side, gravel stacks on the other. It looks like an abandoned quarry. 

"Where are we?"

"Construction site my company is working on," Joel murmurs. He turns the car off, unbuckling his seatbelt. You raise a brow. 

"Why here?"

"Got lots of privacy," Joel says smiling, his body tilting to face you. "Can be as loud as we want." 

You duck your head, suddenly shy. You crack the window slightly, needing something to cool the heat in your cheeks. Joel shifts into the middle of the bench seat, down to business. There's no seduction, no romance.

"Over my lap," Joel murmurs gently, his eyelids already heavy. "C'mon now."

You smile shyly as you unbuckle yourself and crawl over the bench seat. You move delicately over his lap, breath leaving you as your abdomen goes over his muscular thighs. Your face is burning as he brings your skirt up over your ass to your waist, making a humming noise as he looks at the sweet flesh waiting for him. 

Joel slaps your ass, watching it jostle under his hand. You yelp in surprise, but not in pain. His wide hand grips one cheek, his groans low and long. 

"All for me," he mutters and you bite your lower lip, groaning at how deep his voice is when he says it. 

He smacks it again, his cock hardening further under you as he watches your ass jiggle deliciously.   

"You’re up for anything aren't you?" 

You consider this as he places another slap to your ass, hypnotized at how your flesh moves under his hand. 

"Yeah." 

"You like older men?"

"Dunno," you say, arching as Joel's hand continues slapping your ass. "You're my first."

"You lyin' to me?"

"No Mister Miller," you say honestly, tilting so you can meet his surprised gaze. "I've only slept with one other person."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah."

He almost snarls at that. He urges you to a kneeling position before he twists you to face away from him on your knees.

Your shirt is tugged off over your head by him, discarded by your purse on the floor of the truck. Joel is behind you, urging you onto all fours on the seat as he pulls down his jeans. He grabs handfuls of your ass, squeezing and groaning. 

"Gonna let me fuck this little ass?"

For the first time since you've met him you pause. You've never done that before. It's never appealed to you. It still doesn't if you're honest. 

Joel seems to sense your hesitancy. You wait for him to chastise, to show his disappointment. But instead his voice drops an octave.

"On second thought, I wanna fuck that sweet pussy raw instead."

Joel is much more vocal here, less restrained in the privacy of his truck. You smile when you feel him notch himself at your entrance. 

"Gimme something to remember," Joel grunts out as he thrusts into you. You let out a hiss of pleasure at the sensation, hands curling around the worn material of the trucks seat. 

He sets a brutal pace, sending you flying if not for his hands holding your hips in place. He grunts out as he fucks into you, murmuring under his breath. You rock back and forth, ass bouncing off his hips as he thrusts. 

"Good girl ...good girl..."

You feel his wide right palm move to hold you in place by your lower back and you feel your pussy tighten around his cock. You jerk forward, your tits jolting as he slides between you, thrusting you forward and back.

"Use your left hand to pin me," you whimper. He's confused for a moment, hesitating before he does as you ask. He glowers at you when he realizes what you're after. 

"You want me looking at my wedding ring while I fuck you."

"Uh huh," you twist to look at him over your shoulder, smirking. He's looking at you with his jaw slack and eyes dark with desire.  Joel grunts out, hips smacking obscenely against the meat of your ass. 

"Want you to know how bad you’re being."

That you're choosing me an insidious voice whispers inside you. 

"Does your wife's pussy feel this good, Mister Miller?" you ask, moans being punched out of you with every thrust. "This wet 'n tight for you?" 

Joel gives a strangled groan as his hand tangles itself in your hair. He tugs, pulling you to arch against him. Your ass ripples with every thrust, your hands braced on the edges of the seat. 

"You fucking shut up and take this cock," Joel grunts out angrily. He watches your body start with every thrust into you. 

"I'll give you anything you want," you promise, voice cracking. "Just don't stop. You feel so fucking good."

"Pussy's never been fucked right," Joel tells you. 

"Uh uh," you shake your head as much as you can with Joel's fist still tugging. 

"Only fucked a boy," Joel says, his hips jerking forward. "When you needed a man's cock inside you."

"Yes Mister Miller," you groan out, tears flooding your waterline. It feels so fucking good. Not just because it's wrong but because he's so deep inside you and he knows what he's doing. 

"Gonna take all this come," Joel grunts and you can feel him starting to unravel.

 "Gonna take-"

Joel ceases abruptly, pulling from you so brutally you cry out. He practically shoves you away from him. 

"Put on your fucking clothes. Hurry."

There's a fear in his voice that you've never heard before. It prompts you to do as he asked, pulling the shirt back on and tucking it into your skirt. Joel tucks himself back into his jeans as you look out the rearview mirror just in time to see a cop car pulling up behind the truck .

"Shit," Joel swears and you can see the panic in his face. He knows how this looks. Alone with a college girl in his car, the band on his left finger a brutal reminder of how wrong it all is. 

The officer gets out of his car before slowly sauntering towards the truck. Joel is thankful for the cracked the window because fogged up windows would incriminate him absolutely. 

"Hey there," the officer says leaning over Joel's lowered window. 

"Hey officer," Joel says trying to sound calm. "I know I wasn't speeding..."

The two men chuckle lightly as you hold in an eye roll. Dad humor. 

"License and registration."

Joel's face is pinched as he leans over you to open the glove box. He pulls out some papers and then pulls his wallet from his back pocket, retrieving his license. You watch him pass off both to the officer. 

"What're you doing all the way out here... Joel Miller?" The officer says peering at the license from behind his aviators. 

My construction company is working on this site," Joel says, hands indicating out the windshield. "Wanted to check in on it over the holidays. Heard there were some break-ins nearby."

The officer’s eyes drag over to you, sitting quietly watching them. Suspicion fills the officers expression. 

"And you’re just tagging along, miss?"

Joel's head swivels to face you, eyes unreadable. But you know him; you can feel the anxiety coming off of him in waves. 

You straighten, giving the officer your best and brightest smile. The kind that says you're honest and trustworthy. The kind you use with professors when you need to turn in late assignments. 

"Yeah, my Daddy promised me a ride," you say, batting your eyelashes at the officer and smiling broadly. "I don't get to see him as much since I'm away at college." 

Joel is looking at you with a mix of confusion and horror. 

The officer's suspicion flees from his eyes, his countenance softening. You think that somewhere back home this officer has a daughter who ignores his texts, who rolls her eyes when he suggests a family game night. 

"Sweet she still wants to spend time with you at this age," the officer says almost fondly looking between you.

You nod, taking Joel's hand in yours. He's stricken, his hands barely curling around yours. 

"I'm really lucky," you say smiling sweetly at the officer. "He treats me so well but then again I'm always a good girl for you, right Daddy?"

You don't miss Joel's neck bobbing as you say this. Don't miss the swelling of his cock starting again under his jeans. He shifts, his shirt falling over the vee of his legs. 

"Yep," Joel nods stiffly. 

"I bet you are," the officer says with a warm smile. He hands Joel back his license before tapping a finger to the brim of his hat. "Well I won't interfere any more. Take care you two. Happy Holidays."

"Happy Holidays officer!" You chirp as Joel croaks out a weak farewell. You both watch as the officer loads back into his police car and drives off down the one way road. 

Minutes pass and the two of you are silent, waiting, watching. Finally you see Joel's shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. You giggle, relief flooding your senses. 

"Daddy?" Joel grimaces over at you. "Don't tell me you're one of those."

You shrug, uncertain. You may not be completely into it but Joel sure is, despite his denial. You see it in the blown out pupils of his dark eyes. 

"So do I get a ride?" you ask him as you crawl over to him, eyes trailing his body.  

"You insane?" Joel says with disbelief in his features. "We almost got caught by a fucking cop."

"He won't be back," you say grinning wickedly. Your finger goes to trace his still hard cock through his jeans. "And we both know you still want to." 

"Shouldn't," Joel groans even as he fumbles with the button and fly of his jeans. 

You crawl over his lap and situate yourself between Joel and the steering wheel, facing out the windshield. It’s so desolate, yet the thought that you could be caught turns you on. You start smiling as he tugs the t-shirt over your head again and pulls you onto his waiting cock. 

He slides seamlessly through your dripping folds, cupping your tits in his hands. You arch into his grip and begin to rock your hips. 

"Mhmmm, good girl."

You listen as Joel begins grunting behind you and you lean back, the back of your head tilted against his shoulder as he fucks up into you. Your hands hold loosely to his wrists whimpering when he begins to twist your nipples ever so slightly between his fingers. 

“Feels good, Daddy," you whisper, smirking when you hear Joel give a choke of surprise. 

You catch his heavy-lidded gaze in the rearview mirror and you grin. He likes that he can watch you fucking. You can see how he holds you against him, fucking up into you. You reach up to tilt the mirror slightly and then bring your legs up, forcing your thighs to part and giving a lewd view of where you’re connected. 

You bunch your skirt at your waist so you can both see him thrusting up between your legs in the mirrors reflection. You're both mesmerized at the sight of his glossy cock as it saws in and out of you.

"Daddy, you're so big."

"You're fucking sick," Joel says without conviction, his voice breathless. 

"Can feel you throbbing when I call you that, though." You giggle. "Can feel it when your fucking me with your big cock, Daddy."

Joel makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. You feel him tightening every time the word passes through your lips. 

"Stop pretending you don't like it, Mister Miller."

You give him a wink in the rearview mirror before just tilting back and enjoying the sight of you two fucking.  You both look good together, Joel’s handsome face over your shoulder so he can watch his cock splitting you over and over. You see your tits hanging out, rosy tipped nipples between his fingertips. They ripple as Joel enters you over and over. The slick of Joel's cock shines between your legs. 

His right hand slides over the crease of your thigh, nimble fingers gliding over the slick pearl of your clit. You give a gutteral moan as pleasure shoots through you. 

"Atta girl," Joel smiles broadly at your reflection, watching you bounce for him, his thumb circling your clit with shocking precision. 

You groan, your breathing becoming staccato-ed. You don't know how you're going to go back to regular life. How you're going to attend classes and pretend like this last week and a half never happened. 

"Feels good riding Daddy's cock, doesn't it?" Joel rasps against your ear, eyes still on yours in the mirror bringing you back to the present.

There he is. 

"Yes Daddy."

"Good girl."

It feels so debauched, so illicit. Joel still can't look away, eyes glued to the mirror and his hips move faster as he watches him fuck you in his truck. The same truck he drives to work and does the weekly shopping trip in. 

"So fuckin' good for Daddy... So fuckin' wet."

You can tell he's far gone, words slurring. You give a wide lurid smile, rocking your hips down over him. You watch his face in the mirror and see the glaze to his eyes, the way his jaw is hanging slightly ajar. He whimpers, a needy sound that lets you know you have him exactly where you need him. 

Joel groans, fingers dimpling your thighs as he fucks up into you faster. Your eyes are rolling back, making Joel jerk his hips up quicker. 

"Please," you moan. "Need it."

"What do you need, good girl?" 

"Need you to fill me up," you whine, voice breaking with every thrust of him into you. You rock against him, ass bouncing. 

"You need Daddy's come?" Joel grunts out, hand lightly holding you against him by the throat. 

You can only whine a reply of "yes!", being tugged so harshly against his cock that your teeth crash together. And then you feel that tension in you snap and pleasure floods you, causing you to let out cracked cries of "daddy please!" as you ride out your orgasm, watching Joel the entire time.

"Take it take it," Joel groans, hands going to your waist, holding you in place as his hips move with jerking desperation. "Daddy's girl, Daddy's good girl..."

You watch as Joel's face contorts, eyes slamming shut as he empties himself into you, crying out as he thrusts one finger time and you feel him erupt inside you. He buries his face in the back of your neck as his hips slowly stutter to a stop.

"Fuuuuck," he murmurs as he pulls his softening cock from between your legs. "That was good."

"It really was," you say, sagging against the steering wheel and giving a breathless laugh. Joel's hand is resting on your thigh, gently tracing his fingertips there. 

You take a moment to compose yourself before glancing over your shoulder to look at Joel. His face is so close, your lips almost grazing. You two lock eyes, breathing against each other's mouths. It's you who moves first, lips inching to his. But it's Joel who twists his head, blinking. 

"We should get back." 

Joel shifts and you pull yourself off of his lap, crawling back to where you were sitting. Joel leans back to grab something from the bag. 

"Here, I uh, I bought this earlier," Joel says handing you a packet of wipes and a small towel. You smirk before using them to clean his spend from between your legs. 

Eventually the truck starts and you watch the quarry grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. You drive in silence, not even the radio to accompany you on your journey back. 

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

You glance over at Joel who looks strangely withdrawn. "Sure."

"Why didn't you go home to your parents place? Didn't they miss you this Christmas?"

"They uh.... " you trail off, wincing a bit. "They don't really... My parents don't really care what I do. We all kinda do our own thing."

You can feel it immediately, the pity radiating off of Joel. It makes you cringe, your hands twisting around the edge of the seat. 

"Maybe if you tried talkin'-"

"I'd worry about your own family before you start giving me advice about mine," you snap out at him feeling irritable. Joel's dark eyes scan to you before going back to the road. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know Sarah has a secret boyfriend back here? Apparently your friends with his dad," you tell him, cheeks warm. "She's afraid you'll judge her if she tells you because he didn't finish college."

You see Joel's jaw clench and you feel so satisfaction at his discomfort. You realize it's not just about this, but the kiss he shied from earlier.

But guilt overwhelms you when you realize you've out-ed your best friend. 

"I'm not telling you this so you'll be shitty to her," you chastise. "I'm telling you this because you love your daughter and you guys have a great relationship. You're lucky."

You break off temporarily, swallowing.

"She really likes him. And if you tell her you hate him she's just gonna see him in secret like she has been this entire trip."

Joel drives silently, eyes narrowed. You know he's fighting an internal battle. 

"The way Sarah talks about you? You're her hero," you say quietly. "The thought of disappointing you kills her."

You see it in his eyes first, the softening as your words hit home. You see what it's like to be a father first and a disciplinarian second. You look away, feeling your heart being clutched at by a tight yet invisible grip.

Minutes later Joel's hand finds your knee as he drives, squeezing. 

"Thanks for tellin' me."

"You're welcome."

Finally you pull into the driveway, hiding the bag of wipes and hand towels under the passenger’s seat. Joel looks strangely sombre as he turns the ignition off, glancing at you. 

"You know, you're a very special-"

"Please Joel," you say wincing. "Don't." 

Before he can say anything more you slip from the truck, heading into the house, feeling his eyes following your every step.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #fanfic #smut #fanfiction #dad joel miller #cheating #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader

[rollingsins]

three's a crowd, part eight

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten (epilogue)

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au. 

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language, a sprinkle of angst.

word count: 3.1k

a/n: penultimate chapter, thanks all for being patient! finish line in sight!

For the first time in weeks, the set is peaceful. 

No more are the slight jabs from Emma to Jenna. They don’t really talk much, but when they do it’s calm. Emma doesn’t ignore you, she’s even tentatively friendly. She strikes up small talk between takes, joins you and the rest of the cast for game nights and nights out. 

She doesn’t flash about her relationship with Johnna - not like she once did. She isn’t trying to hurt you anymore, or make you jealous. She’s just existing.

It pangs somewhere deep down. 

The fact she doesn’t care enough about you to try and affect your mood anymore. 

But then you remember she’s happy. 

Gone are the surly glares between takes. Gone are the nights spent hate-fucking you into the mattress. Gone is the doubt behind her eyes, the brief glances of insecurity when she’d looked between you and Jenna. 

Now she’s enraptured in Johnna and she looks happy. 

Happier than she was when she was with you, as much as it pains you to admit it. 

She’s smiling at you now, just as the director yells cut. 

She drops her phone to her lap and nudges your shoulder with her elbow. 

“Come over for drinks tonight?” She’s asking, eyes sparkling, “I think Hunter wants to play Uno again.” 

Hunter famously always wants to play Uno. 

He hasn’t won once. But it didn’t stop him drawing out a pack of cards the minute he saw people gathered. 

“Alright.” You say. Uno didn’t sound bad. There’d be enough people to keep you from staring at Johnna and Emma the entire night. Georgie would be there. Maybe even Jenna. 

Your heart flips at the thought. 

Seeing Jenna makes you nervous. 

Things are weird - up in the air. You still have no idea what she’d said to Emma on the balcony, and each day that passes the dots you join in your own head get worse and worse.

“She’s not worth both of us fighting over her,” Says fictionalized Jenna 1. 

“Let’s both dump her and teach her a lesson,” Says fictionalized Jenna 2. 

The other possibilities pass through your mind fleetingly. Maybe nothing had been said, and Emma had just decided herself she was through with you. There’s another possibility - one you don’t even stop to consider. 

The one you want the most… 

But you don’t let yourself dwell. Doubtful Jenna would even want to be friends, anymore. Not after all that’s happened. She hasn’t reached out at all in the last two weeks. Hasn’t hovered, hasn’t done much of anything. 

And the fact that she won’t tell you what was said that night seems to be the final nail in the coffin. 

Georgie sidles over, pulls you from your intrusive thoughts, a stupid grin on his face. 

“Coming to Uno tonight?” He asks, and you nod, peering suspiciously at the look on his face. 

“What’s up with you?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 

Georgie shrugs, “I’m just happy,” He says. 

“Okay,” You say, “Why?”

“Everything’s good now. We’re playing Uno like old times, love is in the air…” He trails off, raises his eyebrows at you. 

“You got a new girlfriend or something?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 

Georgie rolls his eyes. 

“No. But you will. Soon.” 

You avert your gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You say.

“I heard she’s coming,” He says, as if he didn’t hear you, “To Uno.” 

You hum. Try and brush past it. 

He doesn’t let you. 

“Come on,” He groans, “I thought we were getting somewhere. It’s been weeks since you and Emma broke up-“ 

“Two weeks,” You correct, “And we didn’t break up, I was dumped.” 

“Who cares,” Georgie says, “There’s no point in wallowing. Other fish in the sea and all.” 

He wags his eyebrows. 

You stare at him, unimpressed. 

“Jenna doesn’t want to date me.” You say, “She doesn’t even want to talk to me lately. It’s like she’s avoiding me or something.” 

Georgie groans. 

“She’s not avoiding you, YN,” He says, sounding aggravated, “She’s trying to give you space so you have time to get over the breakup. I told her it was a bad idea.”

Your stomach churns, uncomfortably. 

“She doesn’t want to be your rebound or something,” He continues, running a hand through his hair, “When you two eventually get together, she wants it to be because of how you feel about her, not about how you feel about Emma.” 

The thought of being with Jenna is strange. Like some far distant dream, that could have once been yours. 

But you’re done with dreams. 

The moment Emma had dumped you, you’d been boiling in the fiery pits of reality. To dream is to hope, and you have none of that left in you. 

You’re too tired. 

“We’re not getting together,”’ You tell him, and you sound a little sad because you are sad, “Things are just- too complicated.” 

Georgie frowns. 

“Don’t say that,” He says, sounding put out. 

“It’s not meant to be,” You say, “If we were meant to be together, things wouldn’t have been so messy. I should have picked her but I didn’t. Now it’s over.” 

Jenna’s standing over with the directors, deep in conversation. She’s dressed in her Wednesday outfit, double braids flowing down her shoulders. 

She looks beautiful. 

She looks out of reach. And she’ll stay that way. You’ve already put the nail in that coffin. 

“You get in your own way, sometimes, you know that?” Georgie says.

“I’m aware.” You say. 

“So stop it,” Georgie urges, “Go talk to her. I’m sure she’d love that. I’m not saying you have to ask her on a date or anything, but don’t close yourself off to the idea-” 

“I’m moving to a plot of land in Colorado,” You tell him, “And I’m never going to be in a relationship again.” 

It’s better for everyone that way. You, a loose canon, safely confined in some faraway place where you could never fire through anyone else’s hearts ever again. 

Georgie peers over at you. 

“Uh-huh.” He says, as though he doesn’t believe it. 

-

Hunter loses Uno. 

Again. 

He’s too good-natured to care. He makes you all play a few rounds, before he gets distracted by Joy waving a tequila bottle in his face. 

Your mood - although you’re trying to mask it - is a little glum. 

Georgie tries to perk you up, but you’ve reached the depressive part of your breakup, and there isn’t much he can do. He flits between you and Jenna, as if trying to act as the bridge that brings the two of you together but it doesn’t work. 

Jenna’s on edge, you’re depressed and eventually he just gives up. Wanders off to the kitchen to pour himself another Vodka Soda.  

Emma and Johnna are sitting next to each other, quietly chatting. They’re not touching, but you know it’s just for you. You can tell by the way they’re angled towards each other. Emma’s fingers keep jerking slightly, like she wants to reach out and touch Johnna. 

But she doesn’t. Because she knows you’re watching. 

It’s sweet, kind of, and it makes you want to down the rest of Hunter’s tequila and fall asleep in his bathtub. 

Or - throw yourself off the balcony. 

The bathtub is occupied - Georgie’s passed out again - so you excuse yourself to the balcony, suck in the cool air of the night and try hard not to think about anything. 

You’d be home soon, with your friends, with your family. You’d forget about this place, these people. 

You’d forget about your little summer of shooting a show and breaking hearts and feeling the worst pain you’d ever felt in your life. 

It’d be like a dream. A horrible, awful, fever dream you’d never want to have again. 

The sound of the door sliding open draws your attention. 

You assume it’s Georgie, awoken from his bathtub nap and on a quest to see how much he can annoy you in the span of his next conscious hours. 

But it’s not him. 

It’s Jenna. 

She hovers by the door, hand gripping it a little too tight. Her eyes are a little guarded, she tilts her head and offers you the smallest smile. 

“Hey.” She says, “Mind if I join you?” 

You blink, suddenly feeling foggy. And mesh of booze and emotions finally spilling over. Your heart leaps at the sight of her, thuds so embarrassingly loud you’re sure she can hear it. 

“Of course.” You say. 

She nods, but doesn’t move over too quickly. She’s had a bit to drink too, you can tell by the red flush on her cheeks. 

Awkwardly, you grip the railing of the balcony, and look out into the night sky. The stars sparkle back at you, pretty, but Jenna’s eyes shine brighter than all of them. They’re watching you, no pretense. She’s staring, unabashed. 

It makes the tips of your ears redden. 

“How are you?” She asks, voice even. She joins you against the railing, rests her arms against the metal, head tilted towards you. 

Awful, you want to answer, but you don’t. For her, you can pretend. 

“Fine,” You say. You play with the hem of your shirt, “How are you?” 

“Okay.” Is all she says. 

You chew your lip. Listen to the sounds of the party inside, raging on. You tilt your head back, wonder if anyone has seen the two of you out here. As if it’s some illicit little gathering, and not just the two of you staring at the stars and not knowing what to say to each other. 

Georgie has seemingly awoken from his slumber -  he and Joy are chugging beers by the sofa. Hunter has a lampshade over his eyes, four tequila’s deep. Emma and Johnna are kissing, softly in the corner. You stare for a moment. Something washes over you, but it isn’t jealousy. 

You don’t know what it is. 

FOMO, maybe. 

You take a long sip of your drink and draw your attention back to Jenna. 

She looks beautiful, as ever. Minimal makeup. She’s dressed in a pair of cargo pants and an old sweater. She’s looking at you, bottom lip between her teeth. 

Like she’s nervous. 

Her eyes dart over to where you’d been looking. They’ve parted now, but Emma’s still holding her hand. She’s smiling, laughing at something Johnna’s said. 

“They seem happy,” Jenna says. 

“They do.” 

Jenna fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater. 

“Emma deserves to be happy,” She says, voice soft. 

You shoot another look at Emma. Her pretty smile, wide blue eyes. The FOMO is back. You wish she’d been enough for you. You wish you could have made her happy, instead of whatever the fuck you made her. Jealous. Insecure. Hateful. Vengeful. 

But she’s back now, sweet Emma. Happy Emma. Not-in-a-relationship-with-you Emma. 

They way it maybe should have always been. 

“She does.” You say. 

Jenna looks over at you. You look away, not wanting to meet her gaze. You’d forgotten the way she stares. No shame, not a care if it made you uncomfortable. She’s like a human x-ray, trying to decipher your emotions with a blink of her eyes. 

“So do you,” Jenna says.

You fall quiet. Dancing Queen blares over the speakers. You watch as Hunter grabs Emma and Johnna, drags them laughing over to an impromptu dance floor. 

This is what you’d thought being a part of this cast would be like. Fun. Laughter. 

Instead, you got heartbreak and depression. And no one to blame but yourself. 

“Georgie told me you’re planning on moving to Colorado and becoming a nun.” 

You frown. Finally look over to her. 

“I don’t think that’s exactly what I said.” You say. 

Jenna smiles, a little. She brushes the hair out of her eyes. 

“You’d be a cute nun,” She offers, “But I don’t think it’s your calling.” 

You hum. 

“You’re just saying that because you want to get into my Tunic.” You say. 

She snorts. 

She lifts her drink to her lips, eyes sparkling. You relax slightly. A risky joke, maybe, but it had been enough to break the tension. 

“Georgie also told me I should stop giving you space,” She says, quietly. “I think his exact words were ‘Get up off the ground and fight.’”

“Sounds like Georgie,” You say.

Your heart is back to trying to pound itself out of your chest. The blood rushes to your ears the way it always does when you have conversations like this. Your eyes drop to your glass, suddenly very interested in your ice cubes. 

Her stare doesn’t relent. 

“He said you thought it was too messy.” 

“It is too messy.” You say. 

She’s quiet for a moment. You half think she’s going to shrug and head back inside. 

It’s what she’d do if she were smart. It’s what she’d do if you got what you deserved. But she doesn’t. She leans slightly against the railing, edging only slightly closer to you. Her shoulders brush your bare arm. 

The tiny touch makes your palms sweat. You gulp back the lump in your throat. 

“Just because it’s messy doesn’t mean it isn’t right.” She says. 

It’s getting harder to pretend you don’t want to look at her. Your head tilts up, slightly to meet her gaze. 

She’s biting her lip. Her brown eyes are wide, earnest, like she’s trying to convince you of something. 

You’ve not seen her like this before, so unguarded. She’s careful with every word, like she’s on a tightrope, one wrong sentence will send her toppling into a pit of rejection. 

She swallows. 

“I know you just ended it with Emma only a couple of weeks ago and I don’t expect anything. I’m not trying to swoop in like… a crow on a dead carcass or anything, I just-” She trails off, “I don’t know. I think we’re like- meant to be together or something.” 

You blink. 

For the first time all night she averts her gaze, as if her own words have suddenly made her shy. 

You look at her for a moment. Bashful smile on her lips but worry in her eyes. Like you’ll reject her. 

As if she’s not saying exactly what you want to hear. 

You open your mouth, then close it again. The blood rushing to your head has made you a little dizzy, her intense gaze not helping. You fumble, slightly, trying to find the right words. 

Yes, you idiot! Scream your brain, tell her yes, you’re meant to be and you’ll have a dog and a farm and raise five kids together in Colorado. 

But there’s something else. 

Something you want to know. Something you’ve been dying to know.  

“Is that what you told Emma?” You ask, tilting your head, heart in your throat, “That night on the balcony? You told her you and I were meant to be together?”

She pauses. Something in her eyes flickers. She sucks in her breath slightly, and now she’s the one of edge. 

“I told her- she asked me-“

She’s stumbling over her words. It’s strange. You’ve never seen her this un-composed. Her eyes dart away, like she can’t look you in the eyes when she tells you. 

“I told her I was falling in love with you.” 

You blink. 

“Oh.” 

She lets out a shaky breath, looks into your eyes, hers mournful. The bass thumps, though you’re not entirely sure it’s not her heartbeat. 

She swallows. 

“Emma asked me. She straight up asked and I couldn’t lie, YN,” She says, voice quiet. She’s blinking a lot. Wetting her lips every few seconds, “And I know it’s why she broke up with you and I’m sorry that I cost you your relationship-”

“No you’re not,” You say. You lean over the edge of the balcony railing, voice calm, “You’re not sorry she dumped me. You’re glad she dumped me.” 

She blinks. 

“YN-”

“It’s okay,” You say, “You can admit it. I’m not angry.” 

She just stares back at you. 

“I think you did everyone a favor,” You say. Your gaze draws back to Emma and Johnna, cuddled up on the sofa, “I mean - they’re happy. Johnna makes her happier than I ever could.” 

“And you and me?” She asks, after a moment. Her voice is weighted, only a little hopeful, like she’s trying to manage her expectations. 

You pause for a painful moment. 

“I should have picked you,” You murmur, “That night by the pool. I felt it and I got scared. I should have picked you.” 

Something flickers in her eyes. Panic. She blinks it away before you can be sure. She seizes your hands with her own, tugs you a little closer to her. 

“So pick me now,” Jenna says, voice urgent, “I know you feel it too. It’s like fate. Or the stars all aligning or some other bullshit I don’t believe in. Except I believe in it now because I’ve felt it. I’ve felt you.” 

She’s close, so close you can make out the freckles dotted along her nose. Her eyes are desperate, her grip on you is tight. 

You don’t speak, a moment. The music hums heavy, the sounds of laughter coming from the apartment. There’s a screech of laughter. Someone calls out Hunter’s name. But you don’t pay them any mind. 

Your eyes are on Jenna. Jenna and her pretty eyes, Jenna and her constellation of freckles. Jenna and her vanilla body wash. Jenna and her lips, so plump, so red. So kissable. 

Jenna. 

Her eyes are dipping down, between your lips and your eyes and then back to your lips. Like a magnet, or a moth to a flame. 

Her eyes are so dark, impossibly wide, and her lips part only slightly. Her hands brush yours. She’s looking at you like she wants to pin you against the balcony railing and never let you go. Your heart thumps. 

You want her just as bad. Colorado be damned, Emma be damned, single life be damned. 

All you want is her. 

You’d tell her, but you’re not given the chance. 

The full weight of her body hits you hard. She lurches at you like she can’t hold back anymore. Her hands tangle in your hair, seizing your neck between her fingertips so she can pull you down to her lips. 

Your eyes flutter closed. She isn’t soft. She’s needy and charged and desperate. Her hands knot through your long hair, keeping you in place. You’ve only tasted her like this a few times but it feels just as wonderful as the first. She moans slightly against your mouth, all breathy gasps and quiet groans from just kissing. It makes you ache. You want her so bad you can hardly breathe. 

Her tongue slips between your lips as she pushes you against the railing. You kiss for what must be minutes, the hum of the party forgotten, not a care who’s watching.  

When she pulls away, her eyes are black with lust, her lips swollen. She nudges her nose against yours and squeezes your hips, desire in her eyes. 

“Let’s get out of here.” She murmurs.

next part

#three's a crowd #love triangle fic #fanfic #mine #jenna ortega #wednesday #emma myers #jenna ortega x reader #emma myers x reader #jenna ortega x you #emma myers x you

[dc418writes]

✨Pairing✨: trucker!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: It’s always a time when uncle Ari comes around

⚠️: uncle!Ari (just as damaging as dad!Ari and regular Ari lol) mention of nightmares, pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: Hey guys! Another Halloween themed fic but this time with a softer Ari😌. This will serve as atonement to myself (and others who might be affected) for daring to make my fave dark in my last post lol. Hope you guys like it!!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pics used as they were all found on Pinterest*

As expected, four year old Grace had been attached to Ari since the moment you both arrived to babysit for the night. You wouldn’t say you were upset seeing that he was her uncle and that they’ve talked nearly every day since she could babble, but there was still a little sting every time you were greeted with a quiet “hi” or short wave before she was gone and you long forgotten.

Like now as they dug through their shared pumpkin emptying it’s stringy contents while you were in charge of decorating the sugar cookies waiting on the cooling rack.

“S’cold!,” she squealed dumping out her handful of pumpkin guts.

“Be careful of the seeds, you swallow one and a huge pumpkin’s gonna grow in your belly,” Ari warned to which little Grace quickly shook her head.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

“No uncle Ari, we can eat. See?” Before either of you can say anything, she’s quick to set one on her tongue happily chewing until she can swallow it down rubbing her belly. “I’m fine.”

“I guess you showed me huh,” he chuckles tapping her nose and leaving some juice from his finger on her skin successfully turning it light orange. Grace is quick to retaliate though rubbing her hands on his cheeks to leave behind tiny pieces of string as she giggles - and you do too from the other side of the kitchen.

Honestly you couldn’t blame her for picking Ari over you as her favorite. You’d choose him too if you had to pick between the two of you.

“Alright, it’s pretty much cleaned out now. You want scary or funny?,” he asks watching as she adorably tapped her tiny finger to her temple in thought.

“Hmm…funny!”

“Got it,” he nods. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and help your aunt with cookies?”

“I got everything we could ever want Grace,” you smile reaching in your grocery bag full of decorating goodies. “There’s sprinkles - three different shapes I might add - glitter, edible stickers, and stencils to help us draw shapes!”

The way she gazed at the sprinkles with her mouth in a little “o”, you think you’ve got her. Finally able to bond with her over a shared love of cookies like you were in one of those Hallmark movies. Like a little happy family.

“Um..wanna stay with uncle Ari.”

Well, so much for that.

“Oh okay,” you answer successfully hiding your hurt behind your nonchalance. Ari still notices though giving you a sympathetic smile and mouthing, “sorry.”

You appreciated him trying, but maybe you were just meant to be the fun uncle’s wife that barely got a hello. And who tends to go overboard with cookie decorating supplies.

•

“Alright ladies are we ready?,” Ari asks sitting on the navy blue sectional between you and a bouncy Grace nodding yes. During your spaghetti dinner - made by Ari since apparently his was the best although he used your recipe - he suggested that you all watch a movie afterwards.

Specifically, Gremlins.

His thought process being what better way for everyone - more so you and Grace - to spend time together than to watch a movie? Especially a spooky one seeing that it was the night before Halloween. You, on the other hand, had a few concerns on his niece potentially being scared of the little troublesome creatures.

“She’ll be fine. It’s not that scary,” he assured kissing your cheek.

Freshly bathed and in her appropriately themed pumpkin pajamas, Grace couldn’t wait holding on tight to her Mickey Mouse blanket as she watched her uncle press play.

“Share with me!,” she smiles just as Ari spreads the bigger, cream blanket over both yours and his lap.

“I’m not gonna fit though bug.”

“Uh huh! Watch,” she states crawling into his lap and neatly spreading the grey blanket over her legs and his thighs. You - again - casted off to the side with your blanket as she tilts her head back to look up at him. “We fit!”

“Y-Yea, looks like we do.” He gives you another sympathetic smile draping his arm around your shoulders while you bundle deeper under the blanket.

“I’d rather be by myself anyway. Little does she know her uncle is a blanket hog,” you think trying to make yourself feel better.

•

Ari appeared to be right on Grace not being scared. She even fell asleep towards the end with her upper half on the cushion next to them and lower half still on his lap; mouth wide open pointed towards the ceiling. Ari was the one to tuck her in bed, while you cleaned up the blankets and plates of cookie crumbs left in the living room.

You were the last to enter the shared guest room to finally get ready for bed yourself. Your love struck husband taking turns gazing at you and the last period of some hockey game as you strode back and forth from the bathroom to the bedroom. A small, dopey smile on his lips watching you wash your face and apply all your products.

“Share with me?,” he pouts with those puppy eyes making you giggle while sliding into the full sized bed.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, “I feel like Grace is gonna somehow come in saying how she wants you to sleep in her room instead because that’s where you’re supposed to be.”

Yes probably a little petty, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

His tattooed arms bring you closer into his body pecking the top of your head as you settle between his pecs. A low “aw” vibrating in his chest while his hands rub along your back.

“I know I probably sound jealous, but I’m not. I love how you have a great relationship with your niece! But it’s like she hates me and I have no idea what I did.”

He knew that had always been a bit of a fear for you. Kids hating you for whatever reason, thus meaning you shouldn’t have them although you did desire to be a mother one day. It’s why you were nervous meeting Grace all those years ago, afraid that the smallest mess up would ruin everything.

It didn’t help that the minute Ari passed her to you, she began whining and squirming. Your coos of comfort and gentle rocks didn’t seem to help, only making her more agitated not getting what she wanted. She didn’t stop until she was back in Ari’s strong arms and you kept your distance the rest of the visit cautious of a repeat interaction.

If only he could get you to ignore that fear and really see how everyone you met - adults and children alike - had no issues with you. Some even left enchanted by the charisma you thought you lacked.

“I promise, she doesn’t hate you gorgeous.”

“She said so?,” you quietly ask lifting your head with a hint of hope.

“Well…no. But she didn’t say the opposite either.” He tried to soothe your qualms, but it’s not helping the way he hoped watching your head fall back to his chest with a light huff. “Trust me sweetheart. I guess she’s just attached to me because-,”

“You’re amazing and clearly the favorite,” you mumble making him chuckle.

“I was gonna say because I talk to her more, but I’ll take the compliment.”

It’s not long after that you’re both falling asleep lulled by the shared warmth from holding each other. Ari’s soft snores vibrating the side of your face still lying on his chest.

You think you’re dreaming when a mix of a whine and cry hits your ears disrupting your rest and making you groggily sit up. Hearing feet shuffling outside your door though confirms those sounds are in fact real, giving you more motivation to investigate.

Your husband’s too far gone in his own dreamland to be affected by your moving; still lightly snoring with an arm over his forehead and the other out by his side.

Quietly opening the door, you wrap your arms around yourself in your thin pajama set feeling the chill of the night air seeping into your sister in law’s house before carefully padding out to the living room. There, you notice something on the couch moving under the blanket you folded earlier causing you to freeze in place. It was then you realized you probably should’ve woken Ari up so he could be the one playing detective or at least grabbed something you could use to defend yourself.

“H-Hello?,” you call out to the dim space only lit by a couple plug in nightlights in the walls.

“Hi,” Grace’s soft voice responds with a short sniffle.

You also realize how you’re sleepy brain might not be fully thinking straight unable to conclude earlier how it could just be your own niece sitting there on the couch.

Stepping closer, you sit on the cushion next to hers peeling back the cotton throw until you see her splotchy face and red eyes. Water attached to her curled lashes and some still threatening to spill over. “What’s wrong?”

“Bad dream…gwemlins,” she answers using the blanket to wipe her eyes. You immediately hug her close as you coo and assure her everything’s okay.

And surprisingly, she hugs you back.

Her tiny arms wrap tight around you - well, as far as they could with her adorably short reach - almost refusing to let you go.

“Yea, when they get angry they can be scary huh?”

She nods. “And have very very sharp teeth.”

“They do, but luckily they’re not real so there’s nothing-,”

A crash from the back room startles both of you making Grace scream, with the six year old nearly choking you now having her arms around your neck.

“It’s them!,” she cries hiding her face in your shoulder just as Ari limps into the living room holding his knee and appearing half asleep.

“Damn dresser,” he grumbles wiping his eyes that quickly fill with concern seeing both of you on the couch and his niece upset. “What’s wrong?”

“Grace had a nightmare about Gremlins,” you answer pointedly glaring at him as if saying, “I told you so!”

The slight wince on his face isn’t just from an uncomfortable knee as he walks forward to perch on the coffee table. “I’m sorry bug. I didn’t mean to show that to you to scare you.”

“Not nice uncle Ari,” she mumbles still attached to you.

“Forgive me?,” he pouts holding his arms out for a hug. “Peas?”

Wiping her eyes one last time, a small smile begins to spread on her lips as she moves from you to Ari. A fit of giggles rapidly escaping her mouth as his larger body practically swallows hers in a bear hug and he attacks her cheeks with kisses. A dramatic “mwah” sounding every time he made contact causing you to giggle as well.

And fantasize the undoubtedly joyful future you’d both have with your own children.

“Don’t do it again!,” she chastises when he stops. Wagging her finger inches from his nose making him chuckle. She was definitely her mother’s child.

“I promise I won’t.”

“Alright guys,” you sigh, “Since it’s gonna be a bit difficult to go back to sleep, I say we watch something happy.”

“Not Gwemlins!”

“No definitely not,” you chuckle. “I was thinking..Aladdin.”

“Yay! I love Aladdin!,” she claps in Ari’s arms as he picks her up so they both can sit on the couch. To both of your surprise, Grace crawls from her uncle’s lap and squeezes between you and Ari. “You like too?”

“Mhm, I even went as Princess Jasmine for Halloween when I was little.” You have to admit, seeing that gleam of admiration in her eyes as she gazed up at you made you silently thank Ari for showing her that movie. It was the reason behind this bonding moment that you didn’t think would happen.

As the movie played, you and Grace talked about the scenes and of course sung along to your heart’s content not caring if you were off key. All the while Ari watched you both with a soft smile on his pink lips loving how fast of friends you’d become.

And when you both fell asleep - you leaning on his shoulder and her across your lap - he couldn’t help but sneakily take a picture with his phone. Sending it to you with a message saying “looks like you’re amazing and a clear favorite too😉”.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson au #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

[jungle-angel]

Winter Blues (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: It's the time of year when you're not feeling quite yourself, but thank God for your husband

You had come home later than usual after a long week, exhausted beyond all human reasoning and your body screaming for rest.

All week long it had been one thing after another, first with your students and then with having to prep for the holidays and stressful situations outside the home. You felt every last cell in your body screaming for you to rest, your head heavy and aching from the stress.

You parked the truck in the driveway, the snow falling heavily as you stepped out onto the driveway with the last minute supplies for Thanksgiving dinner. The stress had weighed so heavy on your mind that no sooner were you through the door than you cracked. The tears started falling from your eyes as you hung up your coat, scarf, hat and mittens.

Your crying must've been a little more noticeable than you initially thought when you felt a set of arms coiling around your waist and a soft cheek smushed against the back of your head.

"My sweet baby," Bob mumbled. "What's wrong?"

"Oh Bob," you whimpered. "I'm just.....I can't.....I can't right now."

"Shhhh," Bob hushed. "You come with me and get settled. I'll make you a hot mint tea and we'll pop in a movie."

You nodded as he kissed your cheek. He helped you over to the couch where a blanket had been messily tossed aside, no doubt from an afternoon nap he had taken. As soon as you heard the kettle on the stove beginning to whistle, Bob brought in two mugs full of steaming hot peppermint tea, one for you and one for himself.

You told him everything that had happened in your day, even the little things that seemed to be bothering you. You felt a little bad dumping it all on him at once, but you knew he was a good listener who would help you.

"Oh sweetheart," he said wistfully. "Don't let it get to you. I know it's easier said than done, but I don't want you to stress yourself out."

You snuggled a little closer to him, his warm body comforting and soothing like the mint tea you had both been drinking. "I know I shouldn't stress myself out like that but....."

"Hey," Bob said reassuringly. "You know I love you even when you're stressed out right?"

You nodded.

"So come here and lets get cozy," he said, drawing you closer and kissing your head.

Bob switched on a movie and when it began playing you laughed a little. "Really Bob?" you chuckled. "Isn't it a little too early for us to be watching Christmas Vacation?"

"It's never too early for a Christmas movie sweetheart," he said happily, gently stroking the back of your neck and pressing a sweeet kiss to your lips.

You both laughed throughout the movie, quoting it back and forth until you forgot the troubles of the day, the both of you warm and cozy under the covers and falling into the deepest sleep you could have imagined.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

[shadowkoo]

A Sweet Mistake

→ Summary: Your boyfriend texts you something rather surprising that sends you spiraling through past memories.

↠ yeosang x f.reader | 1.1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, meet ugly au, (there’s also a dash of fluff bc why not)

→ Prompts: #32. “I dare you.” + #48. Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently.

→ Warnings: getting dumped via text, praise, being called a good girl (bc you are duh), talking on the phone while being fingered, Yeosang is kinda depicted as an dumb asshole but you’ll forgive me (and him) by the end lol

→ Author Note: Thank you for requesting @anyamaris I hope you enjoy! Learn more about my mini requests here. As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

Your phone dings, drawing your attention away from the book you’ve been devouring for the last hour. You blink several times before staring at the text you just received in total disbelief.

[ From Y♡ at 3:15 PM ]

‘I think we should break up’

A few seconds later another message pops up.

‘I’m sorry’

Your heart races as you reread both. He can’t be serious. No way. After how you spent all evening together? The fresh memory floods your mind…

- Flashback begins -

Yeosang smirks as his fingers curl inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Wait, wait!” you rush as you reach for your ringing phone, “That’s my boss's ringtone.”

“Go on, answer it.” His eyes flare, “I dare you.”

You’re not one to back down from a challenge, so you do. And at that very same moment, his lips find their way around your already sensitive clit.

“H-Hello,” you answer shakily, “Yes Ma’am, your schedule? It’s been confirmed and emailed to you. Uh-huh. Yes, okay. Will do.” You answer your boss's questions quickly and silence your moans with a hand over your mouth as she rambles on about flights for her upcoming trip.

Your breath catches in your throat as the heat grows hotter in your lower belly, you’re almost there.

Yeosang groans as your walls begin to tighten around his fingers. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispers before licking you right where you need him. “Let go for me, baby.”

“I’ll look into it and get back to you!” you rush out, quickly hanging up before she’s suspicious, and come undone onto your boyfriend's fingers and mouth, leaving behind a soft sheen of your release.

“That’s my good girl. I love you.”

- Flashback ends -

And that was just the start of the night. So what changed between then and now? He suddenly doesn’t love you anymore?

That thought sends a sharp pain directly to your chest and tears well in your eyes while you type a message back to him.

[ Sent at 3:30 PM ]

‘Why??? What’s going on?’

[ From Y♡ at 3:31 PM ]

‘I just think it’s for the best…’

‘I’ll come by your place later to pick up my things.’

So his mind is already made up. It’s a good thing that your workday is almost over. You need to go home and cry. Maybe you’ll doordash some dinner and ice cream too. You certainly deserve it.

The ride home on the train is quick, and thankfully no one pays any attention to you as tears fall silently. And before you know it, you’re staring at a box half full of things that belong to Yeosang.

Your fingers play with the bracelet around your wrist, the one he bought you for your three-month anniversary. Its charms are a sun, strawberry, and pie slice, all of which are a small reminder of the day you first met.

- Second flashback begins -

The soft spring sunshine tickles your skin as you walk to the train station in the mid-morning light. The birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and it seems like it’s going to be a good day.

You smile. Not just a good day, a great day.

All of those happy thoughts come quickly crashing down when something from above smacks onto your head, easily knocking you down to the ground.

You gasp after the sudden impact. “Ow. What the fuck?” Your fingers reach up and touch something gooey that’s now covering your hair and face. “Ew.”

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” a stranger asks, kneeling down beside you to help. “Here, I’ve got a couple of napkins in my pocket. Let me help you.”

“What is it? Why is it warm and sticky?!” you panic, not sure exactly what to do in this situation.

“It seems to be a type of dessert? A strawberry pie, perhaps?”

“You’re kidding,” you groan. “So someone decided to just throw a pie out a window? The universe hates me.”

The kind stranger laughs, “Or maybe the universe thought you could use a little more sweetness in your life?”

“Unlikely, but thanks,” you say, using one of the napkins he handed you to wipe your eyes clean. You can see better now, he’s a cute stranger - if you have to be totally honest. Of course you would meet someone attractive in a ridiculous way like this. It’s just your luck.

You lick your lips, it’s tasty at least. “What a waste of good pie.”

“I can’t believe it landed directly on your head. I watch the whole thing happen in slow motion,” he says, struggling to hold back another laugh. “I’m Yeosang. Normally I don’t laugh at pretty girls who almost get knocked out by flying desserts, so my apologies.”

“Apology accepted. I’m Y/N, normally I don’t smell like I came directly out of a strawberry bake off but here we are.”

- Second flashback ends -

And that was the beginning of it all.

Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently. For instance, if you would have been slightly late to leave for work you wouldn’t be sobbing while packing up his things right now. Which is the last thing you thought you would be doing after falling so easily for him.

But you’ve never been one to beg for someone to stay. You’ve always said, if they wanna leave, let them.

‘He’s worth fighting for.’ The voice in your head practically screams at you. ‘Don’t give up so easily.’

Your doorbell chimes, breaking your thoughts and letting you know that he’s here. He has a key, which is how he normally lets himself in, but you guess things are different now.

You take a deep breath before opening the door, not sure what to expect exactly.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously and looks down at his hands which are holding…flowers? “Can we pretend the last four hours didn’t happen? I had a momentary freak-out and realized that texting you about breaking up was a mistake.”

“What?” your brows furrow in confusion.

“I still want to be with you. It just kind of hit me earlier how much I love you and I can’t imagine you not being in my life. But everyone leaves me at some point, and to make it hurt less I thought that by breaking up with you, it would make a future difficult thing less painful in the present.”

“Well,” you ask, crossing your arms. “Did it work?”

“No, I’m an idiot.”

“That may be true, but I love you anyway.” You hug him tightly and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Next time you want to run because you’re scared, just remember that I will always love you, even when you make mistakes - like believing that I’m going to leave you.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I’m still sorry.”

“Good. You should be.”

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez drabble #yeosang #yeosang fanfic #yeosang x reader #yeosang angst #yeosang smut #ateez x reader #yeosang drabble #yeosang fluff #ateez fluff #ateez angst #yeosang oneshot #ateez oneshot

[spacequokka]

Page 80

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: Smut/PWP sorry Rating: M Summary: Here, right now. Word Count: 0.7k Warnings: public sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), vaginal sex, breath play

When Hyunjin originally suggested ditching the party to go back to his place, he’d put too much faith in his ability to keep his hands off you. There was something particularly enticing about the way you gripped his hand while holding down your skirt with the other, nibbling on your bottom lip as you focused on keeping up with his brisk pace.

Fuck.

In seconds, his resolved crumbled. He couldn’t wait another second to get inside you.

He pulled you into an alley between the suburban houses and brought your lips to his. “Just a quickie,” he breathed into your mouth, “Just enough to feel you wrapped around me.” He kissed you harder when you nodded then let go, turning you around to face the tall wooden fence behind you. The night and subsequent darkness granted him the cover needed to drop to his knees and reach under your short skirt for your panties. As he kissed his way up the back of your thigh from the back of your knee, he tugged your lace panties down.

Your whimper made him shudder in delight as his lips brushed against your folds. Dripping wet, just like he imagined you’d be back at the party, grinding your pretty ass all over his dick. He couldn’t wait to give it to you. Even so, he tasted you first. His tongue explored you thoroughly, circling your clit a few times before pressing into your heat. He moaned and grabbed your legs, holding you still as he shoved his face against you, wanting to coat his tongue with your essence.

“Please, Jin. I can’t—”

Your whiny voice. The way his name sounded so sinful coming off your lips. More. He needed more. With one last suck on your clit, he got to his feet and unzipped his pants, frantically shoving them and his boxers down. His dick was already at full attention. Getting the condom on was a blur because soon enough he was pressed against your back, one hand around you caressing your clit as the other guided his dick to your entrance.

“Ready?” He breathed into your ear, rewarding you with a nip on your earlobe when you nodded immediately. Your cunt was a dream come true. Hot. Wet. Tighter than anyone he’d ever been with. He may have been pussy drunk already because he swore it was sucking his dick in deep with a vice grip and all he could do was let it. You were a mess, speared on his cock and moaning like a bitch in heat as your walls spasmed wildly. He covered your mouth with his hand and pulled your head back onto his shoulder, bending your body into a deep arch. “Shush. You’re gonna get us caught. And I’m not pulling out yet.”

After securing his footing by kicking your legs further apart, he went to work, starting off with long, slow pulls out and quick snaps of his hips back in. When his dick was drenched and began to glide in and out without resistance, he switched to a steady thrust. Your hands covered his, pressing his fingers harder onto your clit and squeezing his hand on your lips.

He laughed. “You little freak. You like it like this?” He punctuated the question with a harsh thrust up into you. “You like being fucked this good? Fuck, I wanna keep you now.” He kissed your cheek. “Work you up all day until you’re soaking through your panties, then spend the whole night inside you. Can’t wait to fall asleep in it, dick soaked in your cum.”

You tightened at that, and he groaned, muffling himself with your neck.

“Shit,” he moved his hand to your throat, “be my good baby and cum. Give me a taste of what you can do.” Your fingers trembled and messed up the pattern he was drawing over your clit when he carefully squeezed your neck. Though the condom hindered the true feel of your wetness, your cunt’s grip was more than enough to sate his desire. His eyes shut and he held you still as he came, hips following the waves of his release as he imagined he was filling you up, dumping everything he had inside of you.

He couldn’t do it tonight, but he promised he would one day.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #stray kids drabble #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #skz scenarios #skz imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines

[aylameridiandrawsstuff]

Playing Rogue Trader has really got me thinking about my old navigator OC from when I was playing the tabletop Rogue Trader game... so I've been drawing her a lot.

Anyway here's a lore dump about my sad navigator lady in case anyone wants to know the origins of Navigator Barbie Rapunzel:

Very rarely do a Navigator's duty to their house and their personal desires overlap. However, the two young navis scions Seraphina Silvis and Cesare Orsini found themselves in just such a rare and fortunate position.

The ancient Navigator houses of Orsini and Silvis had finally ended a centuries-long feud and entered into an alliance. the Novators decided to seal the alliance through marriage. House Orsini already had a young male candidate for such a union so the gene crafters of House Silvis set to work creating the bride. Seraphina Augustinia Aurelia Silvis was the result of their efforts.

Upon their first meeting, they were surprised and overjoyed to discover their mutual attraction. In the months leading up to the grand wedding and the final symbolic unification of their two houses, the two young navigators arranged to meet often in secret.

Unfortunately, it was too good to last... renegades from House Orsini fabricated a plot to destroy the nascent alliance. A carefully spread rumour caused the entirety of house Silvis to be destroyed in just one evening by Astartes clad in black and green. Seraphina though, was spared, secreted away by a loyal retainer. In hiding, and unable to contact Cesare, years would pass before Seraphina's guardians felt it was safe enough to once again venture out into the public eye. But too much time had passed and neither Cesare nor Seraphina had any way of finding each other again. Seraphina would go on to find herself in the service of a Fenrisian Rogue Trader, Cesare would abandon his house to search for Seraphina, though his sorrow was so great that the Ruinous Powers were able to easily corrupt him with promises of reuniting him with Seraphina...

#40k #illustration #navis nobilite #40k navigator #warhammer oc #rogue trader #rogue trader ttrpg #OC: Seraphina Silvis

[throneofsapphics]

Hey,

I loved your kinktober posts - especially Nesta x Reader and was wondering if you’d like to write more for them? Maybe something fluffy with some smut? Or literally anything to be honest I love your writing so much 🥰

dinner first 

Nesta x f!Reader

Summary: you and Nesta are distracted from cooking dinner. 

Warnings: kinda soft!dom nesta, smut, oral, fingering 

A/N: thank you!! you’re so sweet 

“Can you slice the carrots?”

“Why?”

“You’re so much better at it.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but picked up the knife, you couldn’t help watching the smooth and practiced movements, the sharp, even slices, the way she handled the blade - even if it was just a standard kitchen knife - with ease. Was chopping vegetables supposed to be a turn on? 

“Really?” She drawled. You must’ve been a bit too obvious with how you were ogling her. 

Your cheeks flushed and you turned away stirring the pot again.

“Dump them in when you’re ready,” you mumbled.

A minute or so later, faster than anyone should be able to chop those, you felt her chest pressed against your back, her arms encircling you. 

Small thudding sounds as they dropped in, the thud of a cutting board tossed aside, the knife slid away with a tad more care.

She didn’t move, and you leaned back into her, a contented sigh left your lips.

Nesta pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, and you debated deserting dinner, hopping right up on the counter and -

“What are you thinking?” Her hand wrapped around yours - you hadn’t realized you’d stopped stirring - going through the motions for you, other hand pressing against your stomach, keeping you close to her. 

Fuck it. You shoved the pot to the back of the stove, one hand feeling blindly to turn the burner off, and spun around.

Her pupils were already dilated, and after a moment's pause strong hands gripped behind your thighs, angling you towards the counter - not the still hot burner, thankfully, that would kill the mood. 

Thighs spread apart, she wedged herself between your thighs, fingers digging into your waist, your hands sliding over her shoulders, winding around to play with the hair. Slowly, you took out each pin, running your fingers through the strands, unwinding the crown braid she always kept. Her breathing grew heavy as you took her time, fingers tightening around you. 

As soon as the last strand was free, her beautiful hair falling around her in waves, her hand cupped the back of your head, drawing you in. 

Slow and soft, her lips moved against yours, tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip. Kissing her, gods you fucking loved it. Sweet and gentle, rough and frenzied, or somewhere in between you’d take anything she’d give. And Nesta knew it. 

You yelped as you slid, yanked towards the very edge of the counter. Your hands flew behind you, bracing yourself. 

“I wouldn’t let you fall,” she snorted, a vaguely offended tone. 

Nesta knelt, and her hand slid up your thighs, stopping to trace the small sliver of skin just above your waistband. 

Your hips lifted, and all you wanted was them off. 

“Eager?” She murmured, but acquiesced, hooking her fingers in to take your pants and underclothes at once. Too gods-damn slowly, she tugged them down, kissing each inch of bare skin revealed, ignoring the small wiggles you made to try and get them off quicker. 

“Please,” you whined. 

“I’ll let you know if I want you to beg,” her tone was firm, but not harsh, and you could’ve sworn she slowed down. Fire followed wherever she touched, as if your skin was trained to react to each small brush of her skin against yours. 

After what felt like eternity, you were finally bare from the waist down. She left your clothes around your ankles, lifting your legs up and ducking her head underneath. . Nesta met your eyes, maybe reading the desperation there, because she didn’t hesitate anymore, spreading your legs further and flicking her tongue against your clit. Heels digging into her back, you writhed and moaned, panting desperately as she brought you closer, closer, closer. 

One fingers slipping in you, she crooked it to hit that spot, and sent you over the edge. 

-

“Dinner,” she ducked out and rose to her feet, giving you a few moments to compose yourself, tugging your pants back up your legs. 

“But I want to taste -”

“Dinner first.” Nesta cut you off. A fist pounded against the door. “Did you forget we have guests?” She smirked. Guests, and they’d all know exactly what happened. 

“Can’t you get rid of them?” You muttered. 

“We did that last time,” she pressed a kiss to your lips before heading to the door. 

#nesta x reader #nesta x y/n #nesta archeron x y/n #nesta archeron x reader #acotar smut #acotar drabble

[syndxlla]

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward and self-indulgent Zelink fanfic. Canon-compliant, takes place between BOTW and TOTK

Chapter Two: You’re Safe

Read Chapter one here

Song: Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie

Summary: Link introduces Zelda to their new home in Hateno, and Zelda begins to face the reality of what her life has developed into.

Warnings: PTSD, body-image, mentioning of scars, passing out

Word Count: 4.9k words

Author’s Note: This shit is so sad I promise its going to eventually get happy haha.

It’s late afternoon when they get to Hateno, just when the sun is starting to low hang in the sky. The gate is quiet, probably because it was their day of worship. Little kids who usually play tag on the main road were praying to the Goddess in their houses, and farmers who practically work in the field studied their devotionals in their kitchen. Link hopped off of Epona when they got into town, guiding her and Zelda through the back road, past the Bolson homes, and over the old wooden bridge to his house.

He leads his horse to the old stable, and then helps Zelda off of her by lifting her at the waist and gently placing her onto the ground. Zelda looks around at her bearings while Link removes the bridle and saddle from his steed, refilling her trough with some water from the well.

“Well… this is it.” He presents the building with his arms open, as if it were a mansion. Zelda doesn’t say much, she just observes the structure with her hands held together, arms bed at the elbow. He leads her through the front door, waving his hand around the dust and coughing once or twice. “I haven’t been home in a while.” He awkwardly smiles. It’s dark and dank there, so quaint. “It’s no palace, I know. But I could afford it, and I really needed a place to store all my extra junk.” Zelda walks up to the weapon displays, seeing the weapons of their dead friends. lined up one by one.

Link drops his equipment, placing the Master Sword on the table, which had nothing on it but a few knife cuts and a dead flower. He moves to open a window, which creaks loudly as he pushes, startling Zelda. “Sorry, sorry.” He sniffles. The window allows the light to pour in, the sun getting slightly golden. He turns to see her staring at the portrait of all the champions that Link hung not six months ago—when he was here last. He moves towards her, nervous and apologetic. She’s so hard to read.

“Look, I know it isn’t perfect. But it’s got a bed, a kitchen, and a bath, and we can clean it up.” He places a tentative hand on her bicep, standing behind her. She looks around. “If you really hate it, we can get a room at the Inn downtown, or we can go up to Purah and Symin’s-“

“It’s perfect, Link.” She stops him and turns around. They’re about the same height, so their eyes meet perfectly.

“What?” He was talking it up out of embarrassment, this place is a dump.

“It’s perfect. Anywhere is better than that throne room. And I wouldn’t want a castle, I’ll be happy here.” She smiles, and if Link didn’t know any better he would pull her in for a tight hug. He doesn’t think they’re that close yet.

“Really?” He asks. She nods.

“It needs some cleaning up, and as much as I love your tributes to the Champions, I think we should return these weapons to their people. I think we should give them a proper burial. Finally put those four to rest.” She explains, sounding like her old self again. “You and I will never move on if we coexist with these.” She admits, and Link agrees.

They stand quiet for a moment. The dust settles. “I‘ll draw a bath for you, if you would like.” He says. “I can start on some dinner, too.”

“That would be lovely.” Zelda smiles.

They have to catch a frog that was sitting in the wooden tub before Link starts bringing in water from the well, and as they chase the bugger, Zelda hears Link’s laugh for the first time in a hundred years. His real laugh, not a polite chuckle or a distant giggle as she watched over him from the Sanctum, but an actual, full-body laugh as he chased the frog. Her entire demeanor softens as she hears it, her heart racing. He rarely laughed when he served as her Knight, and it would always be because of something Mipha said. His laugh now sounded joyous, safe. She needed to hear it.

She looks at the warm bath, Link taking time to heat the water with coals underneath before she gets in. He goes to yank the screen closed, leaving behind a towel, and some soap made out of goat milk from the farm up the mountain. He explains to her that he’s gonna take care of some things outside of the house while she’s getting clean. That he won’t leave, but he’ll get out of the house so she has total privacy. He rambles about taking care of Epona and then picking some endura shrooms for dinner. With a toothy grin he teases about maybe finding a truffle.

“Just yell my name if you need anything and I’ll come running.” He says as he places some folded clean clothes on a stool for her. “Tomorrow we can go to the general store and get you some new clothes. For now you can wear these. The trousers might be a little big, but the shirt is from when I first woke up and I was a skinny little thing. The ghost of your dad actually gave it to me.” Link laughs, clearly happy to have a companion. “I’ve bulked up since then.” He jokingly flexes his bicep and Zelda giggles.

“Link-“ She tilts her head, almost scolding him.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” He leaves, and Zelda can’t stop smiling. He’s come out of his shell so much. A hundred years ago he never spoke, and mainly communicated through sign language. She wondered if he even remembered his signs. The two of them would speak frequently through them. He taught her the entire language, it took the full year they spent at each other's side, but by the time all the divine beasts were being piloted she was almost fluent. She misses that. Sometimes he would sign things to her as she stood behind her father, trying to make her laugh and get her in trouble. It worked one too many times.

And he really had bulked up, even from when she knew him first.

She shakes her head, reminding herself that she mustn't think like that. Not about her closest friend. She sighs, truly alone for the first time in a century.

She looks down at her hands, dirty and frail. She kicks her sandals off and her feet are so sensitive to every feeling. In fact, every part of her skin feels hyper-sensitive to every sensation. She takes a deep breath, she had forgotten what it was like to breathe in. She does it ten times. Zelda then touches the water with her hand, sighing at the feeling of it. She forgot what water even felt like.

The princess stretches, and then goes to take off the white goddess gown. She freezes, not being able to bring herself to do it. Her hands start to shake, and she frowns.

“Pull yourself together, Zelda.” She mumbles to herself. She then pulls the dress up over her head, dropping it to the ground and leaving herself naked. Along with the dress, she feels like she pulls off a piece of her identity. She was truly relieved and thankful the fight was over, especially because it felt like it would never end, but she’s terrified of what comes next. She wore that damned dress for one hundred and three years. And as easy as it went on, it came off. It came off along with her jewelry, the bracelets and necklace. She stands there in complete vulnerability, heart racing.

A lump forms in her throat and she pushes it down. Looking at the white rags on the ground. She carefully steps into the basin of water, gasping as she sits in it. It takes a moment for her to control her breathing. When she doesn’t, she sighs and settles into the water, her heart relaxing. She closes her eyes and then dunks her head underwater, letting all of her long hair get wet. She blows bubbles out of her nose, and runs her hands up and down her skin. She resurfaces, tilting her head back to keep the hair out of her face, and then wipes the water off of her eyes.

Baptism. She thinks. Washing away her sins, and restarting.

She cries exactly three tears. She isn’t sure if it’s because of relief or anxiety or exhaustion and excitement or all of the above.

She sits there for a long time, not moving. It feels good to be in the water, she feels comfortable and safe. She tries to bring herself to move but can’t, maybe her muscles were finally settling into exhaustion. She just sits there, not even really thinking, just existing quietly.

It was simultaneously silent and blaring loud all of the time inside of the trance-like-state she lived in while sealing away The Calamity. Her heart rate finally relaxes, and her eyes even droop for a moment. She has to repeatedly remind herself that she was safe. Maybe one day she would be able to believe that. The water started to get cool, and so she finally moved. It was nice to experience real peace for the first time maybe ever.

Zelda reaches for the bar of soap.

She scrubs away a century of dirt and grime, and it comes off with very little effort. The soap is soft, she appreciates that it came from the locals, and that Link had it at all. He isn’t half as put-together and tidy as he was when he served as her knight. His hair is longer, and it sticks out in all sorts of directions. He’s missing a chunk of cartilage from his right ear, and he’s more scarred, especially on his face. Zelda hopes that isn’t the result of carelessness, she couldn’t bear the thought of Link being put in danger even though he is the most capable person in all of Hyrule. But ever since he nearly died in her arms at Fort Hateno decades ago, she can’t stomach it. She watched in pain and disarray as he threw himself at every monster, every challenge, unfaltering and unafraid.

When she gets out of the bath, she starts to shiver, her body still not used to regulating its temperature again. Zelda quickly dries herself off and gets dressed. The clothes are even a little big on her, and more revealing in some places than she would have ever worn in her past life. She shrugs, and pulls the screen open.

Just as he had promised, he wasn’t in the house. She glanced around, taking in the surroundings even more, trying to get her bearings again. Link doesn’t have much, and what he does have looks mostly like junk. Zelda wasn’t sure how long she was going to be here, but her guess was a long time. It’s not like she has anywhere else to go anymore.

Knowing that Link won’t bother her until she goes looking for him, Zelda takes this as an opportunity to snoop. Not out of malice, but simply because she wants to know more about this new Link, and she’s too afraid to ask still. In her heart, he’s the same devoted and stoic Knight of few words, but she knows deep down that’s not who he is anymore.

In the corner of the room, there’s a work table, one with an old bow on it. She walks to it, examining the weapon. There’s a series of knots on the body of the bow, some Rito and some Gerudo. He seemed to be practicing on the bow, not using it for any combat. There’s a broken-up ruby on the desk, too. Zelda turns around, the front door is open, but she can’t see him. She continues her exploration.

The kitchen is lovely, nicer than anywhere else in the house. Clearly Link had spent some time fixing it up. There were dried herbs on the wall, and a few pieces of paper hanging up with recipes scribbled on them. His handwriting has not improved since she first knew him.

She notices all his different pairs of shoes by the door, he must store his extra clothes that he doesn’t use very often here. She’s never seen him in anything other than his Hylian boots, but here there were a pair of Shekiah sandals, Gerudo Voe slippers, and a pair of snow boots. His feet were big, she picked up one of the shoes, examining it. She noticed there was more wear and tear on the left shoes than the right, implying that he preferred his left side. She sets the shoe down and looks up the stairs to the loft. She peers out of the door again, making sure he wasn’t nearby. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but couldn’t help her curiosity. Besides, Link has never been that private anyways.

Zelda creeps up the stairs, and when she gets to the top she nearly collapses. She does not have the strength for stairs yet. All there was in the loft was a single bed, it was a double size, though, and a dresser. On top of the dresser was a vase. It was full of flowers that Link had surely picked. All of them were beautiful still, and most importantly, all of them were silent princesses.

Zelda’s favorite flower. She swallows back a tear, walking to them. A few had wilted already, she wondered when he picked them. If he hadn’t been here in nearly a half a year, they couldn't have lasted that long. Or could they? She wasn’t sure. In her youth she never dared pick any because of how rare they were. Are they still so rare? Do they have prolonged longevity? Her mind started rising with questions, and her heart started racing out of excitement, the way science and asking questions used to make her feel. She picks them out of the vase, examining them in between her hands and even smelling one. The scent was diving, and she sighed as she exhaled.

She freezes after processing what the flowers were, what they could have stood for. Did he really collect all of these for her? She shakes the ridiculous idea out of her head. What a silly, schoolgirl thought to have. She sets the flowers back.

Zelda wastes no more time snooping, and instead decides to step outside. It was golden hour now, and the warm sun felt incredible on her skin. She took it in for a moment, savoring every single human moment she experiences because she never thought she would get them again.

She savors the feeling of the grass against her bare feet, wiggling her toes with joy. She can’t help the smile that grins across her face. Her skin tickles with it, the feeling still incredibly sensitive. She giggles a few times, and then turns around the house where the stable was, in search for her friend.

A shirtless, toned and sweaty Link tosses a bale of hay into a pile, lifting it high over his head with ease. His biceps flex as he tosses it, his skin slightly sun kissed from the work, and his hair somehow even more disheveled than before. He discarded his shirt on the fence, letting it hang out next to the undershirt he wore, and some chainmail. His chest glistens in the sun, sparkling from the light peppering of sweat over his pectorals. He’s scarred to high-heaven, old cuts and gashes healed with scar-tissue that stretched along his muscles.

Zelda’s face goes bright red when she sees him, immediately turning around to go back inside, but that’s when Link sees her.

“You’re finished!” He chimes cheerily, jogging over to her. She turns around slowly and painfully, her entire body tense because of the sight. Of course she had seen him shirtless, he was practically naked as the day he was born when he woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection, but she was watching him through lense that made it feel more detached, less real. And before the two of them were sealed away from the outside world, she had never even dreamed of seeing him in such a state. They were both too uptight with their titles. Oh how the times have changed. Even if she had seen him partially-nude, it was never this close, never this…detailed. She could smell him, the scent of hard work and horse-hair displayed in the most appealing aroma of a man she could think of. She makes a special effort to look at him directly in the eye, not daring to look anywhere else. The cherry on top? Link had no idea what he was doing to her.

“I-It was lovely,” She stutters over her words like a fool, She takes a shaken breath and then chooses to sign “Thank you.” She forces a smile, was he going to remember.

Link smiles wide and immediately signs back “You’re welcome, I’m happy you know how to sign, too!” And then he dropped it as fast as he picked it up, he used to rely on it so heavily but he doesn’t need it like he used to. He continues speaking verbally: “I’m glad! I’ll go drain the bath! Hudson and Bolson made this fancy contraption that dumps the gray water into a big ole bowl under the house!” He articulates with his hands, showing just how big the bowl really was. Zelda’s heart dropped a little, she was sad he didn’t remember that he was who taught her their special language. But at least he remembered.

She looks at him, pulled into his elaborate explanation of the water invention…his skin looked so soft, so inviting. “And then it drains into a monster camp down the hill! They drink it or something and everyone’s happy! It’s really quite clever, you know.” He smiles a wide, toothy grin. Zelda had never seen him get so excited about anything before the calamity. She was struggling not to fall apart out of embarrassment as he talked, though.

“Fascinating… I would like t-to see it.” She smiled politely, hoping she doesn’t look as foolish as she feels. “D-do you have a comb?” She asks.

He smiles and nods.

Inside of the house, it started to get dark. Link lit the few oil lamps and candles inside, but it was still dim.

Upstairs, Zelda groans frustratedly as she attempts to braid her hair. She looks at her reflection in the old mirror sitting on the dresser. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to get the plaits to lay the way they’re supposed to. For whatever reason, she is incapable of being able to braid her hair in any way. She can’t seem to remember, and no matter how hard she tries, the hair just won’t knot correctly. Link heard her frustration, and out of both curiosity and a desire to protect her, he steps away from the dinner he prepares, and treads up the stairs carefully.

“Zel? Is everything okay?” He asks gently.

“I’m fine!” She sighs exasperatedly. Link stops in his tracks, not wanting to bother her, but still being concerned. She was clearly not fine. He observes the situation, and sees the problem. He walks towards her, not wanting to upset her further, but wanting to be helpful.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to the comb he let her borrow (that he “borrowed” from Riju… she still doesn’t know he has it).

She sighs, “No.”

Link is a little taken back by that.

“I don’t need your help.” She swallows, looking at herself in the reflection, a frown plastered across her face.

“Okay.” He nods and turns to go. Accepting her wish. “Dinner is ready, come down whenever you feel like it.” He says over his shoulder before continuing. She watches him, frustrated with herself and embarrassed that she can’t do something so simple anymore. When he walks down the stairs and is out of sight, she lets go and silently drops a few tears. Only a few, and she quickly wipes them away. How pathetic she thinks to herself.

She stands up, taking the comb and walking downstairs.

He plates the food he made, whistling a distantly-familiar song as he did so. Zelda sits with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders at the table, watching him, now he has a shirt on, finally. It wasn’t his blue tunic, however, it was a soft, emerald green tunic. She didn’t recognize it. It was big on him, like it was supposed to have chainmail and an undershirt, too. Either that or Link was just too small for it.

“What is that song?” She asks.

“Hm?” Link turns around with the bowls in his hand, “Oh, I’m not sure. It came to me in a dream once.” He whistles it again, down middle up, down middle up. It was the song of forests, and fairy children, but neither of them knew that. “Here, it's vegetable cream soup. I know it’s not the most glamorous mela but I was able to get the ingredients in town while you bathed, and it's filling.” He sets it down in front of her and she looks down at it. He then sets his serving across from her, and sits. The two looked at each other, neither knowing what to say.

How do you save the world and rid it from the most demonic and ancient of evils one day, and then the very next you’re sitting across from another eating a vegetable soup?

Link digs in first, purposefully eating it with one of his two spoons instead of swallowing it down like a shot. Zelda was a princess, after all.

Zelda stirs it around a bit, but brings some up to her lips, sipping it. She hums, “That is incredible, Link.” She says, and takes a bigger bite. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Your dad taught me a lot, actually.” He says, “Back when I first woke up and he wasn’t really your dad.” Link takes a few more bites, trying to satiate his hunger but not pig out in front of her. “And then I just picked skills and recipes up from stable to stable. I really enjoyed it, actually. It gave me a hobby that didn’t have to do with strategy and how to kill the most bokoblins with the fewest arrows.” He shrugs, “By the wayLin, I can kill six bokoblins with two arrows and an acorn. I’ll show you sometime.” He speaks nonchalantly.

Zelda laughs at it and he looks at her with a puzzled look.

“I’m serious!” He defends himself.

“I believe you!” She smiles, “That’s what makes it so funny! No one would stand a chance against you.”

“Awe was that a compliment?” He teases and she laughs more. He succeeds at his attempt of cheering her up. ��Don’t start giving me compliments, Zel, you know how my ego handles them. That has not changed in the last hundred years.” He jokes with a lighthearted air. She smiles, the two feel warm, and comfortable inside.

Could you really truly feel happy after an event like what they went through yesterday?

They both believed so.

They believed it because of the other.

Link finishes and stands up, “If you don’t want my help, I understand. But I would be happy to braid your hair for you. It’s not a problem.” Link says in a voice so gentle fairies would come to him. “And if you don’t want me to, that’s okay too. My feelings aren’t hurt.” He turns to the kitchen, leaving the choice up to her.

She sits in contemplation for a moment.

“I’m so embarrassed that I can’t do it.” She sighs. “I used to before the calamity,” the word feels like cotton in her mouth. “But I tried and I just… can’t. My fingers don’t remember how to.” She pushes the emotion down.

“Hey that’s okay!” Link places his bowl in the basin, “I had to remember how to jump when I woke up.”

She smiles, “you’ve recovered so much. I’m glad.”

He turns, “You will, too.”

She wanted to believe that.

“You taught me how to sign”. She signs to him, “Do you not remember?”

Link frowns, “I don’t, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Zelda sighs, “It was our special thing, none of the other champions could sign. Not even-“ She catches herself and doesn’t finish the sign.

“Mipha?” Link spells out her name, there wasn’t a sign for it.

“Yes…” Zelda responds verbally, a little ashamed.

They look at each other, youthful eyes who have seen horrors connect with each other.

Zelda picks up the comb and holds it out for him. He smiles and moves behind her.

He takes the comb and runs it through her long, golden hair. “Your hair grew while you were sealed away.” He says as he holds the soft hair in his calloused hands.

“What?” She asks. “No it did not!”

“Whatever you say, but I think it did.” He hums, parting it and then setting the comb down before beginning the plaits. “What do you want?” He assumes her classic hairstyle of the braided crown, but she lifts her hand to stop him when he starts braiding by her ear.

“Just one braid, all of my hair in it, please.” She asks.

Link nods and lets go of the strands he had in his hands, moving to a different part of her head to restart. He’s always been a very talented braider, even before the calamity. He does it fast, and he is very gentle with her scalp as he does it. When he gets to the bottom, the hair tapering, he realizes he doesn’t have a hair tie to secure it with. Instead of making her hold it while he looks for one, or having to restart, he pulls the blue one out of his hair, and ties Zelda's hair with it. He drapes it over her shoulder and walks away to close the window by the kitchen, his back towards her.

Zelda notices the blue, and looks up to see his hair loose and messy.

Her heart does something because of that.

“I would like to go to bed, I think.” She says. “Would you like me to sleep down here?” She asks.

Link turns around, puzzled, “No?” He furrowed his eyebrows, “I want you to sleep upstairs.”

“I thought that’s where you slept?”

“Nope, I mean I do. But not now, not when you’re here.” He shakes his head. “I can sleep outside with Epona, I sleep better that way anyways.” He shrugs. She looks at him with a blank stare, “What! The bed is clean I assure you.” He chuckles, so charming it’s stupid.

“No that’s not it.” She sighs, “You would sleep with an animal instead of inside?”

“Yeah… Do you not want to sleep in the bed?” He cannot comprehend what she was implying.

“No! I mean yes! I mean no!” She drops her head into her hands, “I would like to sleep in the bed, yes.”

“Great! I’ll sleep outside.”

“Link!”

“What?”

“Just… sleep inside, it's safer.” She suggests.

“But-“ He pauses to think about her words, folding his arms. “I do not understand? I am happy to sleep outside.”

Zelda chuckles, exhausted with his thought process. At least that didn’t change. “Fine. But really, I do not want to take your bed from you.”

“Please do! I don’t need it.” He pushes.

“Okay, okay.” She goes to stand up, but when she does, she completely collapses to the ground, hitting the wood floor hard.

Link wastes not a single second before running to her, calling her name. He kneels on the ground next to her, rolling her onto her back, and supporting her head under his hand.

“Gods, are you alright?” He asks, but she isn’t answering. “Zelda!” He calls her name, and she doesn’t answer, so he calls louder and louder, placing both of his hands on her face to try and wake her.

Link swears, and he grabs her hand to check her pulse but he’s so shaken up that he can’t feel anything. He leans his malformed ear against her lips to see if she is breathing, but that was the ear that he lost his hearing in a year and a half ago when fighting Windblight Ganon. He places his hand on her chest to feel, not caring that he was touching her in a place that he never should, just thinking about her safety. It’s rising and falling but shallow, and he quickly must consider mouth-to-mouth, grabbing an elixir that was too far away, or yelling her name one more time.

He chooses the latter.

He yells at her again, the loudest this time, at a volume that he never used, not even in battle. With a gasp for air, She finally comes to, her eyes opening but hazy and confused.

“Oh my goddess, you’re awake.” He gasps, pulling her against his body, cradling her against his chest. It felt like she was out for an eternity. “Thank Hylia.” He holds her tight.

“Link?” She asks, her voice weak. He squeezes his eyes shut, keeping her close.

“Shit please don’t scare me like that again.” He says, his voice quivering. He pulls away from her and she looks up at him, her eyes welling with tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay I got you.” He holds her again, “You’re safe.”

You’re safe.

—

Chapter three

#zelink #zelink fluff #zelink smut #zelink fanfic #totk zelink #zelink pining #zelink thoughts #zelink angst #legend of zelda #zelda x link #botw #totk #tloz tears of the kingdom #the legend of zelda #zelda fanfic #loz zelda #zelda fanfiction #link x zelda #totk link #botw link #tloz #loz

[axnewxera]

// I've been deep in thought the last few days about Rufus and his character. I just started this blog and I'm still fleshing out my muse in my head.

So. I'mma dump some of my headcanon on the character, and this WILL affect how I RP him and this WILL get long and ranty.

(I'm sorry if the format is wonky, I'm laying in bed on mobile. Also spoilers of pretty much all FF7 media ahoy)

In the original game (and arguably in different levels in other media since then), Rufus is definitely presented as a villain.

His big introduction in the original game has him giving off this big speech to the party about how his father was too soft on the world with propaganda and narrative control and intended to instead rule through fear and intimidation. He stages a public execution of our party members late in the game. He tries to take Cid's plane instead of reviving the space program. He sent Cait Sith to act as a Shinra spy on our party (or at least was aware of this, as the Turks actively follow Cait Sith's intel). He bankrolled Avalanche to essentially backstab his father! He's very manipulative and deceitful and you can never quite trust him!

But honestly..... Nothing he's actually done has me convinced that he was ever actually a bad guy.

Yes, he SAYS how bad he is when you first meet him in the original. He definitely seems to WANT to be the big villain of the series. But Sephiroth's greater threat to the planet aside... Rufus is just not that guy.

Is Shinra, Inc. evil? Oh hell yeah. Heidegger, Scarlet? Yup. Hojo? LOL

But almost IMMEDIATELY after becoming president, Rufus started suppressing Heidegger and (presumably) Scarlet. Heidegger seemed to be THE dude for President Shinra. The two were very much in alignment in their goals and methods. And Rufus lowers him by berating him and never taking him seriously. Not to mention the fact that he basically started an eco-terrorist group to get his heartless evil father gone.

Even though he starts off saying how little the common people mean to him, his goals from very early on are to protect the world from Sephiroth, and to spearhead the effort to find the Promised Land. Even his execution of Barrett and Tifa is an attempt to comfort the people (and, I suspect, to draw Cloud out of hiding) - but he never seems too upset that they escaped the attempt. Or that Cait Sith remains on the party after his usefulness as a spy was over.

He comes off as arrogant and tricky, he sure does some mean things... but his intentions are noble, and his known tendency to play both sides of any conflict - secretly funding Avalanche, secretly funding the World Regenesis Organization, whatever amazing shenanigans are going on in the remakes with Wutai and Viceroy Sarruf - has me doubting that the "evil" stuff like the execution were even intended to actually take place. He's pulling strings to get people where he wants them.

Rufus can't just SAY what he wants. Advent Children is a good example - his intentions are much more openly "good", but no one believes him and there's all this doubt and "What is he really up to?" that swirl around his character. When it counted, he seemed surprisingly honest, yet it just pushed Cloud away.

If he came out as the president of this huge evil corporation and laid out his noble intentions to the world, everyone would doubt him every step of the way and his plans would never get done. Not to mention the very likely possibility that Heidegger and Scarlet and whatever supporters President Shinra still had would stage some sort of coup against him in that event. He still has to be a Shinra. So he does it to play the game, give the world or sometimes our party a villain to unite against, and get things done.

I also think Rufus sees HIMSELF as a villain, even though his intentions are pure. He's a Shinra, after all, and was raised by his father to be this heartless embodiment of pride and corporation. All that lying and manipulating and double-dealing leaves a mark on the psyche. He is fully comfortable presenting himself as the villain because he believes that's who he is, but he disagrees with his father's goals and methods so much that he actively sabotages himself.

I'm not sure if any of this was the writers' actual intent or if it's just all my interpretation, buuuuuut that's the fun of RP right? Getting to dig deeper and assign your own spin on the character.

#Rufus Shinra #out of ammo (ooc) #(headcanons) #Hopefully this is like #actually deep and thought provoking #and not just “yeah duh” #Impostor Syndrome is real folks

[leximicham]

Friendship as a Force Multiplier

I wrote a preface (read: rant) about this but I want the methods below to stand on their own. Feel free to read it. Or not. I'm not a cop.

The below terms are meant to be ways that you can help others or ask for help from others with increasing productivity. These are execution skills as in they allow you to execute on tasks and get shit done. Skills; not crutches, not cheats or hacks, and not anything else which you might feel ashamed of. People want to help you and you probably want to help people get more done so let's build these skills together.

Task Activation

Sitting down with someone for 5-10 minutes to help one of you focus on a task long enough to build momentum or "flow state". Go to a designated workspace together, clear and otherwise prepare said workspace, pull out/open the tool of choice for this task, talk about the goals of the current big thing, start working for 5 minutes. Task Activation complete! The helper can go back to whatever they were doing. The tasker can either continue working if the activation has put them in flow state or they can go back to the drawing board because there may be unforeseen roadblocks or this may just have been the wrong day to do work or the wrong task to work on. Cost of this Task Activation? 5-10 minutes from 2 people and hanging out with a cool person. Cost of trying again if the first activation failed? The exact same.

Rubber Ducking

An intimate (/s) roleplay experience where one person plays the role of an expert trying to suss out a path through a complicated problem and the other person roleplays an inanimate object. Maybe the first player drops the mask and steps away to search for something on the internet because they need more expertise than they're ready to act out. Maybe the second player breaks character by asking helpful questions to set the first player back on track through their musings. Or maybe the forget that rubber ducks can't play Pokemon on their Switch while someone is talking at them. This is a safe space, there are no judgements if everyone's having a good time.

Body Doubling

Very similar to Rubber Ducking but with structure and tomato shaped egg timers. And less talking. Read up on the Pomodoro Technique if you're not familiar. One person (at least) gathers one other person (at least) to sit in a room with a timer and strict expectations about how long productivity periods and break periods last. I like 25 minutes of working and 10 minutes of break. Don't let productivity spill into breaks. Don't forget to keep planning your tasks and future working cycles. Don't shame anyone for playing Pokemon on their Switch during productivity cycles - rest can be productive, too. Avoid disturbing other people during productivity periods except with time checks, cries of victory, or reminders to not beat heads against walls or keyboards. Task Activation can lead into Body Doubling. Body Doubling can be paused for Rubber Ducking. All bodies involved should be breathing.

Paired Productivity

This is just Pair Programming but with a conjugation and more generalized activity term change. Two people enter (a prepared and organized workspace), they have a task or two which they've both agreed to work on, one has the tools to perform the task, the other has a device which can search the internet, they do work, two people leave. Tomato shaped egg timers are encouraged. Rubber Ducking may occur. One person attempts to do the task while discussing the steps, actions, and open questions with the other. The other person checks work, researches particularly difficult questions, and does not touch the tool for this task. Trading roles at predetermined times is fine. I recommend that the more experienced person give the less experienced person more time working with the tool. Take breaks if either the task or other person wears you out.

Task Dump

Giving someone a pen and paper and making them write out every worry, chore, deliverable, past due library book, and passion project idea they have until they start remembering missed homework assignments from the last school they graduated from. Alternatively: be the person who has a pen and paper thrust upon them. Getting Things Done (this is a book and paid coaching program but the link gives a good synopsis) teaches that the worst place to store information and to-dos is your brain. We forget things and we worry about forgetting things. We feel pressure when tasks are a cloud of associations and worries about missed deadline repercussions or would've, could've, should'ves for how our life might have been if we'd done this important task yesterday instead of playing Pokemon on our Switch. We must always forgive our past selves, accept our present selves, and be kind to our future selves. Once a task is on that list it's a future item and past us is off the hook. Having everything listed in front of us helps us figure out and accept the current state of the world. Determining next steps gives our future self the best chance of being proud of themself for accomplishing cool and important stuff. It's hard to say what to do with the big list of tasks from your brain once you have it. This isn't a planning or project management guide and I haven't written one (yet). It's up to you what you do with the list but I guarantee that you'll be in a healthier place when you can see everything on paper instead of listening to the tasks and worries buzz angrily around your head. Here's some suggestions to get you started:

Separate the hastily scrawled list into several lists based on themes:

work

hobbies

errands

passion projects

gifts for the wonderful friend helping you with this

Stack rank things based on a combination of urgency and importance:

Capture the bug which just landed on the corner of your desk?

High urgency (it's gonna fly away!)

Low importance (unless you eat bugs?)

Figuring out where to send humanity in the cosmos when our sun inevitably expands?

Very high importance (we need to live somewhere not inside the sun)

Very low urgency (we hope...)

Figuring out what you're going to eat for your next meal?

Medium-high importance (don't forget to eat!)

Medium-high urgency (you've forgotten to eat while reading this post, haven't you?)

Do this one!

My main suggestion is just to learn to do this Task Dump regularly. This is a tool which you can use in response to "oh no, my head is full of things to do and I don't like it!" You can cross things off the old list or add them to another system but at the end of the day writing things down helps. Keep your old lists around and rewrite them but skip things which are done or that you've decided you don't need to worry about anymore. Add new things. Observing and measuring your task load like this will eventually get you taking on more manageable loads and prioritizing things (with your Task Dump buddy) and feeling really accomplished.

Kind Interrupt

This is not a planned event. If you see someone you care about is hyper fixating on something but making no progress because they're just spinning their wheels and banging their head against a wall then there's actions you can take to help. Breaks are important so you want them to step away at least for a little bit. It's important to be careful not to force someone away from something that they're stuck on, though. You also want to avoid guilting them; they probably already know if they're running late or not making a lot of progress. Try replacements and simple choices: "Would you like to go for a walk or would you rather get a snack and something to drink with me?" Don't shy away from sharing your needs, though. If you need this person to do something else for you then don't shy away from that. Focus on the help, "Can you help me get ready to go?" or "Can I get your help with this task?" Helping people is stimulating and you shouldn't underestimate how much people in your life want to help you.

This list was originally 5 skills until my "15 minute blogpost" became 3 hours and my wives had to rescue me to work on other things.

That's it for now. Read this with someone who you want to unblock or who you know is willing to help unblock you. Become force multipliers together. Keep this in your back pocket for a bad executive function day. Steal it for your own blogpost or website but please give credit to the trans and ungovernable catgirl, Lexi Micham. Have a nice day!

#executive dysfunction #soft skills #productivityboost #productivity #adhd #audhd #A Civil Dawn #neurodivergent #career advice #Lexi Micham

[milolovesbmc]

RANT ON THE BOYF RIENDS BECAUSE I'M A WEIRDO LOL (Warning: RIDICULOUSLY LONG!)

I saw someone say something along the lines of "Boyf Riends just doesn't work on (the) Broadway (production)" so I'm now gonna rant about it cause I'm a weirdo and I love be more chill (Context, this was under a video with a whole bunch of drawings of Michael and Jeremy in different productions, so played by different actors! Someone commented "Someone should add Broadway" and the op replied with the line I first mentioned, no hate to this person, I'm just being a nerd, also if they see this, your art was amazing and I have nothing against you!!) But anyways this just set me off not a whole tageant about their dynamic, so be prepared for that!

So side note before I start ranting, I'm not saying this in a "Die-hard Boyf Riends shipper" way or something, more in a "the thing this person says makes no apparent sense (at least to me rn)" , also if you want to discuss this feel free to DM me and I'll happily hear you out, I might change my mind about this if someone gives me a good argument, who knows! I'm more than down to discussing this

So anyways, this point just doesn't make sense because of one simple thing: The show's plot and main story points don't change from one production to another. Sure, some details or even dialogue, might change! Hell, the addition of LGW in the Broadway/off-Broadway (?) Run gave as a totally different point of view into Jeremy's character and motivations! But that doesn't change the WHOLE story or the entirety of the perception x person may have on said main character. This just lets us dig a bit deeper into Jeremy's character and how he feels in the moment of making this huge decision of (basically) dumping Michael.

So into why Boyf Riends does/doesn't "work" (work meaning in this context that they fit together, or are fit for each other to put it some way)

I have to start off this by saying that their romantic relationship would not be the healthiest one to say the least. Like you can see this in the platonic relationship they have in the show! And, man, of course it won't be, they're 16! They do not know enough about relationships, neither platonic, romantic or anything in between. Not to say their relationship would be toxic! They just have some codependency issues to work through, because it may not be that apparent but they are, in fact, co-dependent to each other in some ways! They care A LOT about the other's opinion and what they would do in their place, this is shown more from Jeremy's side (probably because we're seeing the story though his lense) than Michael's, we can see this in MITB mainly, whole he's essentially having the breakdown of his life, and we aren't able to see that much of his concern for whether Jeremy likes him or not because he's so okay with himself, he doesn't care what other people think, he wouldn't change for anyone! Which is also why MITB is such an important arc to Michael, because we see that he's not perfectly 100% confident, he's vulnerable too, and he cares, because, shocker! He's still a teenager, with complicated feelings and problems!! He just doesn't constantly feed his insecurities and anxieties because, unlike Jeremy, he likes who he is, he's come to accept himself and wouldn't change for anyone! This latter point is very important, because this means (or at the very least implies) that he will put himself first, not in a selfish way, but in a good way, that's healthy! However, this changes in The Pants Song. You could argue that "He doesn't change anything about him tho! He just decides to help Jeremy!" And you'd be right! But he does so by putting Jeremy before himself and his feelings! Because he's angry, he's grieving because he didn't expect his best friend to turn on him, he needs to process it at least and he deserves to be upset! He insists on not helping him at first, but at last he's convinced by Mr.Heere and ends up, basically doing what Jeremy's father should have done. He basically goes out and saves everyone's ass, even after he gets called a loser on the Halloween party, essentially beat up by a SQUIP-possessed-but-still-Jeremy Jeremy during the play etc.

On Jeremy's side, he is kind of jealous of Michael! Because in Jeremy's eyes, Michael is cool! And he's great! And Jeremy can't process why Michael doesn't hate himself like he does, because the two of them share a lot of traits that Jeremy is bullied for! Because even if not shown, Michael is probably bullied too, but he doesn't pay it any mind, his love of himself is too strong to be affected by it! Jeremy, in some way, kind of looks up to Michael, this could partly also be because of a lack of a parental figure to look up to, but that's a whole other thing. This could affect his view on things, because you could argue that Jeremy sees the SQUIP as that "parental" figure to look up to! Because it knows what's best for him, or so it says, and it's gonna solve all off his problems! So during the bathroom intervention, Michael essentially goes against this idol figure Jeremy has (the SQUIP) which, in Jeremy's eyes, is good! So in that logic, Michael must be the bad person in this! Which is what prompts him to push him away (both literally and metaphorically). That wasn't the point I was discussing tho so back to that! Jeremy needs Michael's approval, he needs Michael to reassure that what he's doing is right! Because nobody else will do the things for Jeremy, not his father, that's for sure!

The problem is that, well, Michael doesn't completely get this! He doesn't get that Jeremy needs him to make the decision for him or help him out, so he just tries to distract him from it with the whole "Cool In College" thing, and at the same time, accidentally confirms his fears, never with that intention of course! But he does. A good example is these lines from Two Player Game: "Dude you are cooler than a vintage cassette, it's just that no one else but me thinks that yet! You're just a nothing in this high school scheme [...]"

Is Michael saying Jeremy's fine the way he is? Yeah! You can understand that from his speech! Will Jeremy most probably just pick up on how he says nobody else thinks that? Also yes

So in conclusion, to end this all off because I'm writing this at 1 in the morning, Michael and Jeremy's relationship does have flaws, it has it's positive and negative aspects, but they can work through them! And about the whole SQUIP incident, I think they just need to actually talk about it and understand why they both did what they did (Mainly for Jeremy's part) and just move on forward! Could moving on forward mean going into a romantic relationship? Sure! It can be whatever kind of relationship you want! Can it also just continue to be platonic/friendship? Sure! Could both work out equally well? YEP! At least from my point of view!

Thanks for listening to me rant, I just have to say this probably went way off rail from what I was saying at the start and might feel kinda pointless, but again, it is 1 am and I'm not reading this again, I hope you can at least enjoy it! :)

#sorry if this is pointless #but anyways pls do dm me and argue w me #because id love to talk about this #be more chill #jeremy heere #michael mell #boyf riends #bmc #bemorechill #the squip #rant post #huuuuge rant #me being goofy

[starseneyes]

Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 22

"Under Siege" AKA "Who in the Writer's Room Likes Horror?"

It's a bizarre day. If you love Chenford, then you need to know what's going on with the WGA - Writers Guild of America. They are striking for a fair wage and basic protections.

WGA members craft this ship and show we love so much, so please show solidarity for them as they fight for not only their future, but for future generations of writers.

SPOILER ALERT: If you want to remain spoiler free, I have no bloody clue why you're here. I can only assume a friend told you to check this out as a cruel joke. First off, dump that friend. Second, buckle up. It's about to get spoilery!

All good? Great! I can't wait to dive in.

Arrest Me... but make it SCARY

A bit of a different vibe for our opening tonight. No, this isn't Chenford-direct. But, it's important to know the vibe of this episode going in.

If any of you are Avengers: Infinity War fans, you might recall the Wanda / Vision relationship, and their whole sequence where they were ambushed. Originally, it was a lot longer, and had more of a horror movie vibe.

I loved that they went outside the box on that to play with genre throughout the movie.

I feel like The Rookie is playing with that a bit. It's been a while since my heart pounded during an episode.

In all honesty, it was probably Day of Death that last had me on the edge of my seat... and I watched that after I started Season 5 with near-canon Chenford.

Yes, I'm spoiled. Yes, I think OG Chenford fans deserve medals for their patience.

Speaking of which, your patience with me is likely wearing thin... let's get to the Chenford.

"Hey I heard it was Thornson."

Tim and Lucy show up together, and I'm having flashbacks to the two of them bailing out her UC buddy in the dead of night. These two know how to get moving when it matters.

Tim and Lucy immediately separate on their separate missions. That didn't work out too well for Celina and Aaron, but it looks like Chenford survive the night.

Look, I have a lot of ship trauma. "Leaf on the wind" anyone? Yeah, I've got ship trauma.

"A blood drive has been set up at the hospital. If you can do so, please volunteer at the end of shift."

I'm reminded of the fact that Tim Bradford regularly gives blood, so I'm heart-warmed that he's the one who gets to deliver the news to the team.

"Those are not store-bought Halloween masks."

It struck me immediately that Lucy is sitting front row like a Rookie.

Yes, I know that they are packed in there, so somebody has to sit up front... but it's Lucy, so it feels symbolic. As though she is sitting in the Rookie spot in Celina's honor.

"Hey. We heard the good news about Aaron. Unfortunately, none of our CIs have heard anything about a gang targeting the cops."

I know it's a little detail, but I love Tim and Lucy showing up together everywhere.

Of course, someone on Twitter called out the 4x01 parallel to them showing up at Wesley's together after I initially watched the episode. And they're so right. It's another parallel among many in this episode tonight!

"I hate to say it, but this is not gonna break tonight."

This one I spotted immediately the first time through—it's another night where he's sending everyone home because there's nothing more to be done... just like when they lost Jackson.

And I have to wonder if the intentionality of these parallels is to confirm or subvert expectation.

Like, are we supposed to see this similar sequence of events as an omen of doom? Or are we drawing these parallels with the intent of intensifying the torture before the cathartic release of Aaron's survival?

I guess we'll find out together in Season 6.

"I can't lose another."

Oh, Grey. Poor Grey. I guess I wasn't the only one having flashbacks.

Tim and Lucy Embrace

Tim knows Lucy is having that same flashback. There are too many similarities, too many things tying them all back to Jackson and the loss they all endured.

Angela about to give birth. Someone targeting them. An ambush and a shooting.

Yes, Aaron has a chance at making it. But the weight of this moment is not lost on this team who has suffered too much loss before.

Lucy and Tim step into the apartment, and they barely make it past the door before they're in one another's arms.

It's wordless. Tim motions to Lucy, and it reminds me of the hand motions when he offered to carry the War Bags after their last ride together.

Tim and Lucy no longer need a shorthand... they don't even need words.

He knows what she needs without her asking, and she knows what he's offering without a word spoken.

Back in Season 4 Episode 1, Tim asked what she needed. She asked for the hug. Now he knows what she needs in this moment as easily as he knows his own—some semblance of comfort in the horror of history repeating.

QUICK EDIT: Upon rewatch, I find I didn't imagine his "Come here" the first time (another call back), so technically he did use words... but they weren't needed.

Tim holds Lucy in his arms—so similar to their positioning in 4x01—but that's where the similarities end. Because Tim and Lucy of Season 4 no longer exist.

Everything has deepened between them since then. And while, yes, the hanky panky is fun... the trust is what they both need here.

They can't trust that everything will be okay. But they trust that with one another they are truly safe. And right now, they both need that comfort.

"It's okay," he whispers as he holds her, wishing it were true.

Tim kisses Lucy's forehead as he holds her, rubs her arms, and tries to offer some comfort as she leans against him, sobs overtaking her... like the first time he held her in Day of Death.

I know that we're going for the 4x01 parallels with how this is shot and staged, but I see the DOD ones, too. This is where they are safe when nowhere else feels safe.

Tim's hand cradles her head as he holds her. And much as this hurts like hell, this moment is important.

Tim and Lucy are one another's safe place. With each other, there are no pretenses or pretending, anymore. They no longer hide from one another or themselves.

They've embraced the beauty of who they are together, and while there will be many moments of joy... the sorrow is a part of the journey.

Tim and Lucy have had their share of it, true. But this is the first time they've traversed it as boyfriend and girlfriend. And the impact of enduring possibly losing another officer and friend to an ambush is too much.

Does being together make it easier? Hell, no. Is there a slight comfort in knowing you're not enduring it alone? Oh, yes.

"No we know. We ran your prints ... you don't get out of bed for less than 20K a day. Who hired you?"

Tim and Lucy are very good at what they do, and I love how they are supporting one another and building upon each other.

I miss them riding together, but we see what makes them great—they both think on their feet and they are sensational at the "yes, and".

I love getting to see the professional side still fires so beautifully between them. It's a feat I feared fumbled, but I'm freakin' psyched it fared fine.

Oh my goodness, that's way too much alliteration. But, I'm leaving it. It's ridiculous and it makes me smile!

The Trip Wire

Another commonality with Season 4 Episode 1. Gee wiz, we're going for lots of references with this one, and that leaves me curious about the intention... and whether there's a common thread that we're somehow missing that leads all the way back.

Or, I'm reading too much into it because I'm weird. I can roll with that, too.

Tim joins up with Lucy outside the house where she asks him for clarity that none of them have. What the hell is going on!?

"We should move on." "What? No."

Love that Lucy still stands up to Tim at work.

Look, even when he was her TO and then her supervisor, Lucy never shied away from speaking her mind. In this case, she sees something they're missing. And she's not going to let them miss out on an important piece of the puzzle.

"You think it's personal?" "I mean, look, if I was gonna go to the extreme of targeting police officers, why not take out some of my enemies along the way?"

And with that, Lucy BadAss Chen cracks the case. No, I don't know if that's her legal middle name. But it should be.

My brain immediately goes back to Tim accusing her of a social media obsession that happened to crack a case back during one of the Documentary episodes.

There's no skirting around this one—it was all Chen.

"I'll take Moran." "You're not going by yourself." "I'll go with her."

Alright, Fierce Protector. You do you.

"You should be out kicking doors with Metro." "I'm good." "I don't need you protecting me."

Well, damn, I thought it was just me! I thought I was gonna be the only one in this Meta calling out Tim in the Protector role, but I guess my on-screen bestie had to chime in, too.

Also, bringing back "Good" in this scene, which truly feels like their word, and I love it.

Tim will always have Lucy's back. He knows that she is capable and strong, but he's also her boyfriend and spent a lot of time as her TO and then Supervisor. Worrying about her was a part of his job, and now it's an ingrained part of his life.

He's not trying to undermine her independence or capability. He simply wants to be close because then he knows she is safe and doesn't have to hold his breath wondering.

"So, clearly what you're saying is you need me protecting you." "Clearly. You know me so well."

It was pinging my brain, and I couldn't figure out why until someone pulled out the DOD GIF on Twitter and I started slow-clapping like a sports movie.

Yes, of course! When Lucy woke up in the hospital to find Tim by her side... as he is, now.

I kept seeing DOD parallels in this episode, and I'm strangely comforted that others did, too.

Plus, a return of "Clearly", which has been another of Tim and Lucy's words. "Clearly, Ashley's gotta go." "Clearly this isn't working out."

"I'm happy it's you at my six." "Back at you."

Major "We protect each other" vibes, and I bloody approve. Look, we know that Tim is a Fierce Protector. But he also knows that his girlfriend is a kick-ass bad-ass.

Now, we enter into a fight scene that is a bloody masterpiece.

Yes, I wondered why they emptied their clips at the Riot Shields, but I'm not a cop, so I don't know if there's some logic behind it I don't possess. Other than that... this fucking rocked.

Like, literally. I couldn't have been the only Xennial rocking out when Janes Addiction started playing! Someone go hug the Music Supervisor, Music Coordinator, Screenwriter, Director, or whoever threw that track out there, because it's bloody brilliant.

Tim and Lucy are working together, talking it out as they go. And we see all that time they've put into building their communication is really on display, even in a bloody battle.

"We stand a chance, but only together."

Hell, yeah, Lucy! I've been saying that all season. No, not in terms of having the high ground (rest in pieces, Anikan Skywalker's limbs), but in terms of getting through this thing called life.

Tim and Lucy stand a chance of surviving as Chenford through end of show only if they work together.

And on-the-screen in this particular moment, the same holds true.

"Pull not push, copy that."

Love. Them. Look at Tim taking the word of his capable wife and putting it into practice.

Tim and Lucy are literally fighting for their lives, here, and they are fighting together. When one's on the brink of being overwhelmed, the other is there.

Lucy delivers a strike to free up Tim. He takes on several at once, and she goes for the shield. I was screaming, "Hell, yeah, baby girl!" like the big sister I am to my on-screen bestie because she was crushing.

Tim is the master of pepper spray, I swear. He's used it in many creative ways, but super smart to go straight for the eye-holes on the masks to try to penetrate.

Lucy's close to losing consciousness when Tim rips the guy off of her, repaying the earlier favor of her freeing him up. It's a literal give-and-take... in a fight for their lives. This is bloody brilliant.

Nolan finally makes it up there, and Tim helps Lucy through the door to the stairwell, literally shielding her with his body.

Once inside, Tim has his hand on one of his favorite places—Lucy's leg. But this isn't a sexy-time touch. This is the, "Thank God you're alive" touch. If they hadn't worked together, that could have ended very differently.

"I have Bradford and Chen secured upstairs."

Chen and Bradford, sir. It's Chenford. Not Braden.

"You should be on your way to the hospital." "We'll go after."

At least Tim is saying he'll go. Like, seriously, this guy is the king of avoiding medical attention. And too often when he's gone in, he did so knowing nobody was waiting for him on the other side.

Now, not only is he willingly going to go in with his girlfriend, he knows that they'll leave together. Look how far our boy has come.

A Glance

Our last moment of Tim and Lucy is just a glance... a subtle glance between the two of them where that wordless communication comes in.

They've always have this layer to their relationship—communicating without a word. But it's so much deeper, now.

And as we reflect on the end of a season, I have to say it's been incredible to witness their growth alongside y'all in real-time.

This season has been an absolute roller coaster, and my first with all y'all! I started with 5x01, had to catch up, and have loved this whole journey.

Thank you all for being so welcoming to a late-comer like me. And thank you for reading!

Remember, love one another. Give yourself grace. Don't worry about "perfect" because it doesn't bloody exist. Go after your dreams. Fuck Fear. And believe in yourself, always.

And if you're not ready to believe in yourself... know that I believe in you. And I'm always rooting for good things to come your way. You've got this.

#Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #Lucy x Tim #Tim x Lucy #Meta #The Rookie

[zombeebunnie]

Trembling Essence [Extended Demo]:💙Quality of life changes + Q&A.💙

Hello and welcome new followers! To show my appreciation for all the support I've received again, here's one of the Valentines Day concept drawings finished! A big thank you to everyone that has continued supporting this through a like, re-blog, fanart, comment, tip jar, share, etc. :,]

I wasn't expecting it to take as long as it did but I'm very happy with the result and how much I've been improving! I'm not too good at drawing angled faces so being able to get it to look just right made me very happy! :,]

I still have this one to go so hopefully at some point I'll have it done!

Quality of life changes:

*Please note that these changes aren't in the [Extended Demo] yet! It'll be something for me to work on adding and I'll let it be known in a update post!

Now that it's been two weeks of the [Extended Demo] being released, It's time to go over some changes to help the player out when going through the game!

I noticed from comments and playthrough's that certain Bad endings/Neutral story progressions were difficult to find, especially the full afternoon route. I don't want players to feel burnt out from trying to search for everything.

I want to add a check-list menu that shows all the Bad/Neutral endings you can get while playing so it's easier to navigate the game.

2. For those that are new or have been here for some time, entering the cabin with Noah starts Day 3 due to the player(Y/N) being lost in the terrain for 2 and a half days which Noah mentions. Sometimes this can get confusing since some consider it Day 1 while the game considers it Day 3.

It's still up in the air about how I'm going to go on about this but I'm thinking about adding a little notification tab in the upper left corner of the game to notify the player(Y/N) of what day it is in the game to resolve confusion.

3. I talked about this last week but I didn't know until recently that the tags I use for Trembling Essence were very unorganized and hard to search through.

I went through and tried my best to re-organize all of the lore and art about Noah/game posts. I also cleaned up the #Trembling Essence tag since it was flooded with game development posts and not much else. I'm also working on a master post and plan on creating some reference sheets of Noah which will be placed under a different tag! :]

#Get to know: Noah : This will be filled with answered asks and lore dump. Sometimes(?) there's random dev-logs that have lore attached to them too. #TE Updates : This only includes dev-logs/updates about the game and development progress. #Trembling Essence : This tag is mainly used to post fan art / art and anything else in general that might belong here which includes lore posts. I really want searching through the tag to be enjoyable and not filled with a bunch of dev-logs.

Q&A / Ask box is open:

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

I really wanted some of the lore to be found through playing versus me just answering everything. :]

If you've already sent in a ask, I did see it I just need time to answer since I like to respond with doodles/drawings and helps me practice. :]

That's all I have to share right now! Thank you for the continued support, I wholeheartedly appreciate it. :,]

#trembling essence #te updates #male yandere #visual novel #dating sim #itch.io #illustration #yandere #digital art #game development #horror game #murder sim #gamedev #indie games #otome #artists on tumblr #art #artwork #horror games #renpy visual novel