#yall it would be so easy to poison me

[doubletaileddoubletrouble]

OK, is it just me having horrible issues with telling tastes from one another, or does moldy water taste like lemonade to yall.

[watchmegetobsessed]

BULLETPROOF

A/N: *screams in excitement* its here!!! its finally here!!! im so happy i finally got to finish a longer fic without hitting rockbottom with it. this one was very easy to write, i think i was heavily inspired by the night agent series on netflix lol now im very excited for yall to read it!!

WORD COUNT: 12.5k

WARNING: gun use, getting shot, blood, stalking, bullying

SUMMARY: Being Eroda's first daughter is not all sunshine and rainbows. It's tough out there when people are so fast to judge you and turn their back on you. But there is one person who's been there for you all along. Your bodyguard, Harry.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The wine is nice. The salad is tragic, probably the worst you’ve ever had. You wonder how dessert will turn out to be, could be good or poisonous at this point.

The company?

Well, at least he is not staring at your breasts.

Going out with Jaiden sounded a lot more fun when he asked you out in the library, but now that you’ve been listening to him speak for the past thirty-two minutes, you’re counting it, he appears to be just another douche who wants to brag about you at the next frat party. He probably thinks he is doing well and he might get lucky once you leave the restaurant, but there are two reasons why that won’t happen.

One, you spotted some tomato sauce on his left hand before he left to the restroom and when he came back it was still there, he did not wash his hands and then touched the garlic bread. You’ve pushed the basket out of your view discreetly after that. It’s already a very strong point, but the second one is the real deal.

There is absolutely no way the three agents, one by the door, one by the window and one at two tables from you would be okay with assisting to your hookup. Well, it’s not that they would have a choice, if you think of it. But think about it: even if he weren’t a pig, this is how it would go.

Arriving to Jaiden’s building you would be told to wait outside with Morrison, while Jackson and Styles go up and check out Jaiden’s place. Then they would come down to get you. If the mood weren’t dead by this point, you’d have to go up and start the action with one agent down in front of the building, one by the front door and then the worst, you just know Styles would stand by the bedroom door like a statue, listening closely to everything happening inside.

Then when it would be over you’d have to leave with the three men around you and return to your place. Madness. Pure comedy.

“What do you think?”

Jaiden’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts about the ridiculous daydream of tonight and you realize you have no idea what he’s been talking about in the last seven minutes.

“Um, sorry?” you clear your throat, reaching for the wine.

“I was asking you about how…”

You look over his shoulder and spot Styles through the glass door, zoning out of the conversation in record time.

He is wearing civil clothes, all three of the agents are, that was the deal when you’re out somewhere, with friends or on a date which happen once in a leap year, to be honest. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a black bomber jacket over, simple, dark jeans and trainers. You wonder if this is actually his style, if this is how he dresses when he is not on duty, when he is running errands or meeting up with his friends for drinks. You only see him when he is responsible for protecting you at all cost, he’s been head of your security team for the past two years and it’s been a rollercoaster of a ride.

He was a real pain in the ass at the beginning, he would jump at every possible noise, he dragged you out of class once because someone’s pen clicked louder than the usual. Fuck, you lost count of the times you screamed at him, asking what was his problem, if he lost his mind and every time he just stood there, like a fucking rock and then just nodded at the end and carried on with his nonsense.

It took some time and lots of communication to find balance. You realized he would never listen to you when you’re screaming from the top of your lungs and you had to accept that he is just doing his job. So you sat down with him and your father, the president of Eroda to talk about boundaries.

Things have been better since then and the two of you actually work well together. Most of the times.

He was next to you at every major event, ups and downs, he drove you home after you confronted your last serious boyfriend about how he cheated on you with three different girls, you sobbed like a baby and couldn’t even open the lock on your front door. He took the keys gently from your hand and did it for you. When you woke up in the morning the fridge was stocked with your favorites. You never asked, but you know he did it.

He has attended concerts and parties with you, shadowing you even when you had to get tampons in the middle of the night. You bet he knows what brand and size you use too at this point. As much as he’d gotten on your nerves millions of times… you like the guy. He is straight forward, always speaks his mind if asked, he sees things in a very rational way. He’s ambitious and hard-working and most of all, trustworthy.

He might actually be your best friend.

How tragic, you consider your head of security to be your best friend! This must be the end here…

“You’re really not listening, are you?” Jaiden laughs, but it’s dry, he looks pissed when you look back at him.

“Sorry, it’s been… a long week. And honestly, I kind of lost interest when you started talking about football, since I know nothing about it.”

“Wow, okay, so what were you expecting? Brainstorming about possible ways to stop the climate change?” he scoffs and you actually think about just standing up and leaving.

“No, but on a date you usually talk about things you both like. I guess we have nothing in common, then. So why don’t we—“

“You really know how to make people feel stupid.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shoot up, this is getting interesting.

“Just because daddy runs the country, doesn’t mean you’re above us all. Don’t have to be such a snob.”

“Oh, it wasn’t even me being a snob,” you retort with a forced smile as you grab your bag from the table and from the corner of your eyes you already see the agents moving. “It’s been a lovely evening, but I think we’re better as… I would say friends, but it wouldn’t be true. Bye, Jaiden.”

You stand and plan to march past him to meet Morrison and Jackson to head out, but Jaiden is not done, it seems. He jumps to his feet and his hand grabs your upper arm, pulling you back. He barely just opens his mouth when Hell breaks loose.

Morrison is first to get his hands on him, yanking him away from you while Jackson tears his hand off you, then it gets twisted behind him and Styles arrives, smacking your date up against the wall.

The whole restaurant is staring at you and you just want the ground to open beneath you.

You stop at your front door out of instinct, already knowing they have to sweep through the place before you could enter. Styles stands beside you and waits for Morrison and Jackson to return. When it’s confirmed you walk in, a blank look on your face.

“Have a nice night, guys. Thank you for tonight,” you tell them in a robotic voice. Morrison and Jackson says good night and you hear the door closing, but you know you’re not alone.

Styles stands by the door and you can feel him watching your every move as you put your heels away and take your earrings out.

“Are you gonna give me a lecture about choosing guys more wisely?” you ask, finally facing him. He’s standing with his hands clasped together at the front, his usual pose, but it’s a bit odd without his usual suit.

“No,” he answers shortly and you wait for him to say whatever is on his mind. “Just wanted to ask if you’re alright.”

“My arm is fine, you don’t ha—“

“I wasn’t asking about your arm.”

You stare back at him in silence, everything just dawns on you all at once and your chest feels like burning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, but then a tear rolls down your face.

You see the change in him instantly. His eyes soften as he walks over to you, his gaze frantically searching your face, probably trying to figure out what to do. They don’t tell agents how to deal with young, crying women who feel like they are going to die alone.

“I’m fine, really,” you say again and he pulls out a tissue from his pocket, handing it over to you.

“He was a douche. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“How many disastrous dates have I been on in the past year?” you ask with a shaking voice. He doesn’t answer, just clenches his jaw. “You know damn well that it was my eleventh. You were there at all of them. I can’t help but start to think that something must be wrong with me and not with them.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. They were… weird guys. They were the problem, not you.”

“So then it’s just my taste that’s trash, right?” you let out a bitter laugh, hoping that making fun of yourself would help, but it doesn’t. It never does.

“Finding the right person is hard. You have to give it time.”

“I’m impatient, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have. The first day I met you.”

There it is.

That teeny tiny smile that barely just curls up the corners of his mouth but it drives you insane. Because it’s so rare, it’s so intimate and every time you see it the urge to kiss it gets harder and harder.

Yes, it’s such a cliché, but you do have a crush on your bodyguard. You fought it, you really did, but one day you had to realize there’s nothing you can do about it. Now you’re just trying to live with it but moments like this make it really hard not to overstep certain boundaries. For one, you really shouldn’t have feelings for someone whose job is to protect your life at all cost. Your father would have a heart attack if he found out you’re hooking up with an agent. And two… he might be nice to you, a real friend, but you feel like there’s no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Hell, sometimes, on your worse days you even question his friendship. What if it’s all just the job for him? To take care of your fragile little soul?

You’re awfully lonely.

“Get some rest, you have an 8 am class in the morning.”

He steps back and the smile is gone just like that.

“Yes sir!” you salute him, to which you just get a bored look before he takes one last look around and walks out to check in with the night shift agents outside your door.

You’d rather spend this Saturday evening locked up in your bedroom, watching Criminal Minds and eating popcorn, but tonight is one of those occasions where you have to make an official appearance as the president’s daughter.

You’ve definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed, nothing went as you planned so far and you even had a fight with Styles because he ended your morning run earlier when a group of obnoxious fratboys appeared on the football field next to the running track and they accidentally threw a ball in your way.

You have not talked to him since, haven’t even seen him, but you know for a fact he will be coming with you tonight. He is there at every official event, never missing one.

There’s a soft knock on the front door just when you’ve finished getting dressed. You shuffle over to the door and opening you find yourself facing Styles in his usual suit, a change from the workout clothes he wore in the morning.

Fuck, you want to act grumpy still, but he looks especially good with slightly more tamed than usually and he is freshly shaven.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Not yet. Come and help me, please,” you say as you turn around, but you notice he is not following you. “Come on, I won’t bite your head off.”

With a tiny frown he finally moves and follows you into your bedroom where you grab the diamond necklace you want to wear tonight.

“Can you put it on, please?”

He takes the necklace, holding it so gently, you have never seen him handle something with so much care.

Maybe only you.

You turn around and hold your hair up as he reaches around your neck and you bit back a moan when his fingers brush against your collarbone. He fidgets with the clasp for a few moments before taking a step back once it’s done.

“Do you think I can make an early Irish exit tonight?” you ask, stepping into your heels and he offers you a hand that you gladly take to help the process. Once you’re done you head out, Styles following you right behind.

“Don’t think the president would appreciate it.”

“Oh, I know him well, I think I can have a pass from him.”

It’s another event where you feel absolutely useless, you’re just there so your father could show off.

“…And this is my daughter, Y/N. She is studying law!... She is top of her class, yes… Isn’t she a lovely young woman?...”

The smile on your face starts to hurt when you decide to take a break from all the guests that you know nothing about but they all seem to be very familiar with you.

“I’m gonna go out for a bit,” you tell Styles who’s been your shadow all night, three other agents watching your every step as well from different points of the room.

“Let me che—“

“I think there’s no danger out on the balcony, everyone has been thoroughly checked here, I’ll be fine for five minutes.”

You have a staring match for a minute where he weighs in on your words before finally nodding.

“Five minutes,” he says, opening the door for you.

“Start the fucking clock,” you mumble under your breath.

As you stand by the railing, staring out into the night you feel more deflated than ever. Like you’ve lost every ounce of energy and the urge to just scream is quite tempting. This is not the life you dreamed of, but it is what your father always wanted and you sometimes feel like a terrible daughter for being so displeased. You do have privileges others would never get to experience, but you’ve never felt lonelier and more out of place. The way here showed you how shallow your friendships have been, now only have about three people you consider your friend and one is your bodyguard, one is studying in Switzerland and the third is… Wait, there’s no third. That’s it, you have two friends.

You hear Styles stepping closer and you already know what he is about to say.

“I know my time is up, but if you dare to remind me, I’m pushing you off this balcony.”

Turning around you face him, ready to fight him for some more time, but you’re surprised to see him with that tiny smile on his face.

“You’re really moody today,” he states, but it’s not one of those smartass comments he usually makes, he is teasing you.

“Surprising?”

“A little bit. Are you… Are you still upset about your date?” His face turns serious.

“I was never upset about the date specifically. I was upset because… Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Stop being so fucking polite,” you groan.

“I can’t be rude to you, I would lose my job.”

“You’ve been rude to me on several occasions! Especially at the beginning!” you accuse him.

“I was never rude. I was honest.”

“Jesus, you are so annoying,” you roll your eyes that earns a smirk from him.

“That’s not my job, but I tend to be that often.”

“I might be moody, but you’re awfully cheeky tonight. What’s gotten into you?”

You head back inside, Styles following you.

“Don’t know, guess I’m just in a good mood.”

“Alright, then I’ll need a drink to put up with this new side of yours.”

And that’s what you did, but you didn’t stop at one drink. You didn’t plan to, but you successfully got so drunk Styles had to rescue you out of the venue before your father saw you. After all, you did make an Irish exit.

In the car you can tell Harry is not in the same good mood, he looks rather pissed as he drives you back home, constantly checking the mirrors to see if Morrison and Jackson are behind you.

“Aw, did I make your job harder?” you pout, but then start laughing as you look at his hard stare. His profile looks annoyingly beautiful and you just want to draw the slope of his nose with your finger.

“No, but it would have been nice if I didn’t have to bring you out through the back door on my shoulder, because you kept running away.”

You start laughing as he recites what happened just about fifteen minutes ago when he was trying to chase you down to get you into the car and away from anyone that could ruin your father’s political career if they saw his daughter running around drunk.

“Don’t be so pissed, your eyebrows will glue together one day, you pull the together way too much,” you snort out a laugh as you slide lower in your seat.

It’s an hour long drive and of course, you fall asleep soon. When you open your eyes next, you see that you’re already in the garage of your building.

“Come on, you need to get to bed.” Styles opens the car door, but you’re still half drunk and half asleep, so you just mumble something and close your eyes back. “Y/N, you can’t spend the night in the car.”

“Says who?” you breathe out.

For a few seconds nothing happens and you start drifting back to sleep when you feel an arm behind your back and one under your knees. You faintly realize that you’re being carried up to your apartment and when you force yourself to open your eyes, you realize that it’s Styles.

“Mm, is this also in your job description?” you groggily tease him, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Mr. Styles. Harry. Can I… call you that?”

“Call me whatever you want,” he answers and then waits in front of the apartment while it’s checked out. With the last bits of your energy you study his face that’s now dangerously up close. He is carrying you like you weigh nothing, his strong hold keeping you safe.

“Oh, don’t tell me stuff like that,” you chuckle, your eyes closing as you push down a yawn. You hear the agents coming out of your apartment, saying it’s clear before Harry starts walking again and a few moments later you’re laid down on your bed.

“You have to change, Y/N,” he tells you, pulling your heels off your sore feet. Groaning, you sit up and he helps you up to a standing position before turning around to walk out, but you stop him, pulling him back by his hand.

“I can’t get this off alone,” you say, nodding down at your dress. You catch the hesitation in his eyes as he weighs in the situation and steps back at last.

You turn around and move your hair so he can access the zipper. He doesn’t move instantly and you’re almost about to turn around when you finally feel his touch on your back. He places one hand to your shoulder blade, holding the dress in place while he pulls the zipper down with the other.

Slowly.

So slowly, it’s almost like foreplay.

Especially since you have no bra underneath, so the lower he gets the more skin he is able to see. The silky dress loosens around your body and you know he is looking at your bare back. With one hand you keep the dress to your chest, but the other one lets go of your hair as you turn back around to face him. 

The alcohol is working eagerly in your system and you’re feeling blunt and risky as you hold your chin high with a half smirk.

“Where did your cheekiness go, Harry?”

“I’m gonna go now.” He gulps hard as he backs away towards the door, but you follow him.

“Am I that scary? That you’re running away?”

“Y/N, stop.” He looks into your eyes as he finally stops and his green irises appear dangerously dark as he stares back at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug innocently as you keep walking towards him until you’re just inches away from his chest. “Have you never thought of me like that?”

He doesn’t answer, but you don’t see disgust on his face and it’s enough for you to keep pushing.

“Because I have. Several times. On nights when I knew you were outside and then other times when I didn’t know where you were but I was hoping you were thinking of me.”

He is still completely silent, though his eyes are throwing fireworks your way when one of the straps of your dress slips down your shoulder.

“I want you and I want you to want me too, Harry,” you whisper as you move even closer, your hand that’s holding your dress pushing to his chest while the other moves up to the base of his neck. His skin is burning and you’re desperate to feel it underneath his crispy dress shirt too. 

But before you could close the gap, he pulls back and it’s like a slap across your face.

“Go to bed, Y/N. You need to sleep.”

“But think about it, you could brag about fucking the president’s daughter, wouldn’t you want that? You’d be the man, Harry.”

Your words are like venom as you look at him, your chest heaving, your heart hammering under your hand. 

“Stop talking before you say something you might regret,” he warns you.

“So you’re not man enough to fuck me? How should I trust you with my life then if you can’t even make me come?” you call after him when he is already out of the bedroom.

He freezes and the words sink in as you stare at the back of his head. You expect him to turn around and lecture you, to tell you how cheap you sounded, but instead he just walks out of the apartment and leaves you to your spiraling, drunk thoughts.

You realize you never actually knew panic and terror until you wake up the next morning, realizing what you did last night. That you have to face Harry after you almost begged him to fuck you and then said he is not man enough to be your guard because he didn’t have sex with you.

You have an afternoon yoga class on Sunday that you very much consider canceling on just so you don’t have to face Harry, but you can’t hide in your apartment forever, you’d have to meet him again sooner or later. So when it’s time for you to leave and you hear the knock on your door you open it with shaking hands, relief washing over you instantly when you find DeLuca standing in front of you, no trace of Harry.

That means you have some more time to figure out how to deal with the situation you got yourself into. Yoga actually helps you find some peace of mind, but only until you leave and catch on Jackson’s radio before getting into the car, Harry’s voice asking for a report.

He is working and he’ll be at your apartment, meaning that you have to go through the most awkward situation ever in about fifteen minutes. 

It all happens as if you were in a movie. Arriving at the garage Jackson opens the door for you, DeLuca rounds the car and right at that moment the doors to the elevator swing open and Harry walks out with two other agents. Your mouth goes dry and you’re getting ready to fake your death, but things take a turn then.

“DeLuca, take her to the second floor, it’s been cleared. Jackson, Morrow, come with us.” Harry instructs the agents and you realize something is wrong.

“What? What’s happening?” 

There’s an apartment on the second floor for the agents, like their own little headquarter and it’s usually the safe place they take you to whenever something looks suspicious. Harry looks at you, worry etched onto his face as he places a hand to your back and leads you over to DeLuca.

“There’s been a security alert while you were away, we need to check the whole building.”

“Alert? What kind?” 

“Someone tried to get into your place,” is all he says before he passes you over to DeLuca and disappears with the other agents.

The time you spend on the second floor feels like forever, but it’s actually only twelve minutes. They sweep through the whole building and check the system, trying to find out what happened, but the cameras only caught a man in a black hoodie who stopped at your door, fidgeted with the lock for a while but couldn’t get in so he left. When it’s safe for you to return to your own place you’re walked back by two agents, but the tension is still thick. 

You hear Harry doubling the agents for the rest of the day and night and he checks your apartment one last time himself again when his phone rings and you know it’s your dad calling from the tone he answers the call.

“Yes, sir. Passing the phone over,” Harry says after the briefing of the situation and then holds the phone out to you.

“Dad?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I wasn’t here.”

“Alright. We’ll have some extra agents around you for a while. I know you don’t like the guardedam, but we have to do it until we find out who it was.”

“Okay.”

You talk a little more and then you give the phone back to Harry, because your dad wants to have a few words with him. He listens carefully for a while and then walks out of the apartment, leaving you wondering what else there could be, but your dad could be a little too overprotective, so you’re sure he is just fussing about the situation.

You’ve just finished making yourself a cup of tea when Harry returns. He would never admit it, but you can tell this incident is stressing him out. 

“Everything alright with my dad? He didn’t tell you off or anything, right?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “But you won’t like what I’m going to say. You need to have an agent in here with you until we get to the bottom of this situation.”

“Will it be you?” The question rolls off your tongue before you could even think about it. 

“If you want me, yes.”

“I feel the safest with you.”

It’s the truth. Even though the things you told him, screamed at him, don’t agree, he is still the one you trust the most around here to have in your apartment with you.

“Okay,” he nods. “I have to talk to the team, so–”

“Wait!” you stop him from leaving, knowing well you need to have this conversation. Swallowing hard you leave the tea on the kitchen counter and round the island to get closer to him, but still keep some distance. “I want to… I want to apologize for last night. My behavior was… Unforgivable.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you give him a hard look. “I had too much to drink, I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. So… I’m sorry.”

He stares back at you for seconds that feel like forever before he finally nods and you know it’s not just a meaningless reaction to get you out of his hair.

“Okay.”

“We’re… we’re good?”

“Yes. But I really need to go now.”

“Alright,” you clear your throat as you watch him walk towards the door, but he turns back one last time. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

And with that, he is off to do his job.

You spend the rest of Sunday studying and you get so focused on your textbooks and notes that you totally forget about Harry’s return and you don’t even notice it. So when you wander out of your bedroom after your brain has been fried from everything you studied, you almost scream when you see Harry standing in the living room by the window.

“Holy shit!” you snap a hand to your chest to calm your racing heart.

“What happened?” He moves fast like a cat, instantly checking the room for possible dangers.

“Nothing happened, I just… forgot you’d be here,” you admit with a soft chuckle as you head out to the kitchen. “It’s kind of creepy how you’re just standing there.”

“I can see the street from here as well,” he answers, as if it was such an obvious thing to say.

As you move around the kitchen, heating some leftovers up you catch him looking at you, or to be more precise, your legs that are almost completely bare thanks to the cotton shorts you’re wearing. 

Last night was a disaster, but now that the shame has settled in you, something else has been lingering in the back of your mind. The sense of hesitation you experienced when you were trying to seduce him embarrassing yourself has been on your mind. How he didn’t move away instantly, how it looked like he was fighting himself, so it gives you the idea that a tiny part of him does look at you the same way you look at him. 

The way he is looking you up is another boost to the theory. 

“Any news about the intruder?” you casually ask, ignoring his stare that quickly slips away from you when you speak up.

“Not yet. But we’re working on it.”

“Do you think… it’s something serious? Like someone is after me?” Leaning onto the kitchen island you play with the spoon in your hand as you look at him, waiting for his response.

“I wouldn’t go into guessing. I’m more of a–”

“Of a fan of factual planning, I know,” you finish his sentence with a smile. You’ve heard it from him several times, word by word.

Grabbing the bowl you round the island and stop a few feet away from him.

“I really do trust you, Harry. With my life.”

You feel like you had to let him know again after last night. The way you questioned his ability to protect you was not fair, he gave you no reason to believe he is not the best person for the job. There’s a reason why he is head of the team.

“Thank you,” is all he says. He is back to his distant self that only focuses on work. You know in times like this it’s better to play by the rules and retreat.

“I’m gonna head to bed soon. Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

Everything falls back to a somewhat normal routine. Following the incident your team almost doubles, but nothing actually happens and the building’s security system gets an update so three weeks later you’re back to your usual with only slight changes. 

Like how there’s an agent in your living room during the night.

There was a discussion about positioning someone inside your apartment and they explained to you why it’s better to have someone with you during the night. You understood and agreed to do it under one condition: you have to approve of the agents that can take the position. There are three of them and of course, Harry is in that team.

He’s been taking up the inside position as much as he can. He never asked you, but maybe he figured you know him the best and feel the most comfortable with him inside.

Most of the time he hangs out in the living room. He doesn’t stand by the window all the time, you’ve caught him sitting in the armchair, walking around, stretching his limbs. To make it less miserable for him you spend a lot of time in front of the TV, mostly to hopefully entertain him at least a bit now that he’s stuck with you more than ever. For days, he didn’t even look at the screen, but lately you’ve caught him following the show several times, so you’re religiously keeping this habit up. 

The awkwardness has faded, but it definitely taught you a lesson. You better not get drunk when Harry is around and that’s like… all the time. 

Everything seems to be back to it’s extraordinary normal that you’ve been used to for the past few years. 

Today is a special day, however. You’ve been part of a case study competition, your criminal law professor suggested you enter and you’ve worked insanely hard on your case for the past three months that earned you first place. They are holding a little award ceremony today and it will finally be your moment. You will be in the spotlight because of something you worked hard for and not because your father is the leader of the country. 

He promised to be there and watch you accept your well-deserved award and you’re excited to make him proud. 

You started the day early and channeled your excitement into a long morning run before spending the noon at a salon to get your hair and nails done for the occasion. You might be the president’s daughter, but you’re a woman after all and you love a good pampering before an event. 

Now you’re sitting in you closet, trying to figure out what to wear, all the outfits you’ve tried on but decided against are lying on the floor around you in piles. You start to think you should have gone shopping, but then you find the perfect dress, a simple, but elegant black dress with a deeper back cut. You pair them with a pair of designer heels and some statement earrings to bring some light into this quite dark set and you’re all done. 

When you walk out of the bedroom Harry is standing by the window in his usual black suit white shirt attire. His eyes snap over to you and this time he can’t hide how he checks you out from head to toe. You can feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a twirl.

“You look… very professional,” he answers. It’s not what you expected, but you know he meant it in the best possible way.

“Has my dad’s plane landed?”

“I haven’t gotten any news from his team yet, but I’m sure he’ll be there on time. Shall we leave?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling out of breath. An unsettling feeling sinks into your gut, but you brush it off as Harry helps you put on your coat and you leave the apartment in the ring of agents.

Because of your attendance, the event’s security has been obviously raised and a group of agents have been at the venue long before your arrival, checking every corner so when you’re finally there you can walk in without having to wait in the car. 

The competition had several different fields so there will be more students awarded today, the room is full of winners, their proud professors and parents as well. You take your assigned seat and nervously look around, searching for any sign of your father, but there’s none, so you’re left with just waiting.

It’s killing you, so you text him but you get no response. He should have landed by now to make it in time, his silence is raising concern in you now.

“Harry? Can you please reach my father’s security team?” you ask and nodding he takes a few steps back as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

Something is off, you can feel it in your guts and you fucking hate it. It takes forever for Harry to turn back to you, right when everyone starts clapping, because the dean has entered the stage to start the ceremony, but you’re only looking at Harry.

“What did they say?”

“Y/N, he is… He is not coming.”

“What?” It feels like a punch in your stomach and you wish Harry would say it’s just a joke, that he is about to walk in any moment, but the look on his face tells you it’s the truth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you whisper as you turn back to face the stage, your throat closing up while you fight your tears.

It was the first thing you asked from him in so long. You’ve been there for him every step of the way and today you just needed your father to be here and be proud of you, but he ditched you. There’s been an ongoing joke on the internet that it will always be the country before you for your dad and you even laughed about it before, but now it’s your cruel reality.

You watch the winners get called on the stage one by one and the willingness to do the same dies in you with every passing moment. 

“Y/N?” Harry taps your shoulder and you snap out of your thoughts only to realize your name has been called. 

“Fuck,” you mumble as you stand from your seat, three agents moving with you, taking their places as you walk up to the stage and shake hands with the dean. Every first place winner has said a few words, so now it’s your turn at the microphone, but it’s like you’ve forgotten how to talk. Looking around you see the sea of faces, everyone is waiting for you to finally say something. Your eyes land on Harry and he gives you a tiny nod and somehow you find your voice.

You manage to say a few sentences about the importance of your study and thank the school for the opportunity before you walk off the stage. You’re expected to return to your seat, but instead, you’re heading to the restroom.

The dam breaks and tears start rolling down your face. You completely ignore the protocol, that an agent has to check the room before you enter and a hand pulls you back before you could rush into the ladies room.

“Y/N, I need to–”

“I don’t want to have the fucking toilet checked, I want to have some fucking privacy!” you snap at him, tears rolling down your face and you’re very close to start sobbing like a child. Harry looks back at you with shock on his face, this time he can’t even mask it, probably because he has never seen you like this.

“Okay, but–”

You don’t wait for him to finish, just push your way inside and don’t stop until you reach a sink that you can lean onto, the sobs finally erupting from your chest. 

Betrayal, disappointment and helplessness wash over you, pulling you right into a possible emotional breakdown, though you’re still fighting it as you open the tap and splash some cold water into your face.

You didn’t realize Harry followed you inside, so when you feel a hand on your back you almost get a heart attack.

“Hey, it’s just me, it’s okay,” Harry holds his palms up when you jump back, gasping for air because of the panic and crying at the same time.

“I s-said I-I wanted p-privacy!” you sob shaking your head.

“I can’t just let you walk in here alone when you can barely breathe!”

“I don’t want to do this! I don’t fucking want to do this!” you cry, leaning your back against the cold, tiled wall as you let yourself fall apart for the first time in forever. You’ve been trying to be calm and collected as much as possible, but so much has piled up on you that your father not showing up was the last straw, the cherry on top.

“Y/N, calm down, take a deep breath, okay?” Harry tries to calm you down, but you just keep shaking your head and sobbing. 

“He didn’t come! It was the only thing… I asked from him!”

“I’m sure he has a reason to–”

“I don’t fucking care! He doesn’t care about me! No one fucking does! I’m just… I have no one left! No one!”

“Don’t say that, Y/N. There are people who care about you.”

“Who? Who cares about me!” you scream at him, finally looking into his eyes and his gaze pierces into yours as he answers.

“Me. I care about you.”

“It’s your fucking job to protect me, it’s not the same!”

Your chest is heaving and you must look like a complete mess, but at this moment nothing really matters. Harry looks back at you like you just seriously hurt his feelings, like what you said was just as disappointing as your father not showing up. Long moments pass by without him saying anything and you start to think he’ll just walk out like he did that night you got drunk, but then he steps closer, definitely crossing the line of comfortable distance.

“If you think you’re just a job to me, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you beg in a whisper.

“Don’t call me a fucking liar,” he snaps back and it’s the first time you hear him swear. His pupils have swallowed his irises and his breathing is almost as wild as yours as he stares at you, practically burning a hole into your face. 

“You left me that night. Without a word. I told you I wanted you and you walked out. That does give me a certain message.”

“You were drunk out of your mind, telling me to fuck you. I would have never forgiven myself if I touched you. I had no reason to believe you wouldn’t regret it in the morning and ask to never see me again. That would have been the end of my career and the end of… me.”

Though your cheeks are still soaked from your tears, his words have stopped your crying and now you can’t even tell what you’re feeling. You have no idea what to do or say, how to react and you can’t believe how this situation is turning out to be. 

“I still want you the same,” you whisper, your mouth deciding on what to say because your brain is in complete shock. 

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, his eyes fall closed and you can tell he is fighting himself, so you want to push him over the edge. Reaching up you cup his cheek in your hand, he doesn’t move at first, but then he leans into your touch and that’s when you push yourself away from the wall to get closer to him, but he pulls away.

There’s a second of devastation, but when he reaches to his earpiece you realize someone is talking to him.

“Copy. We’re in the restroom, give me the fastest route out.” He talks into his wrist before his eyes snap up to you.

“What happened?” you breathe out, feeling like your heart cannot take another shock at this moment, but you’ll have to deal with it anyway. He listens to the answer they give him through his com before talking to you.

“We need to get out. The guy who was at your apartment was spotted in the building.”

“What? Is he armed?” Harry takes your hand in his firm hold and gently, but confidently pulls you towards the door. 

“We don’t know, he ran away, DeLuca and Jackson are after him, but we need to get you out of here.”

Your pulse is higher than ever, you feel dizzy and your brain is definitely shutting down, too much has happened in just minutes, you’re on survival mode. Harry must have noticed your state, because before he could open the door he turns to you, taking your face in his hands.

“It’s gonna be alright. I’m right here.”

“Okay,” you nod, blindly believing anything he says.

He then opens the door, steps out first to check what’s happening and returns to get you and you’re on your way to flee the building.

Circled by agents you follow Harry through hallways you’ve never been to until you somehow get to a back entrance. Your car is already there, waiting for you and you get in the back, lying down onto the seat, remembering that’s what Harry asked from you the last time you had to be rescued out of somewhere. You catch his face before he shuts the car door and he gives you a small nod. 

You don’t experience much of what goes down at the venue, they take you to a safe spot and you wait there with three agents while the rest of your team is either in the venue or at your apartment, making sure there’s no one there. 

Almost an hour goes by when Harry returns and you look at him, feeling on the edge to finally know something.

“We lost him. Your apartment is cleared, let’s get you home.”

You can tell he is beating himself up for letting the guy slip away and you already know he will put his walls back up.

He does one more check in the apartment himself before letting you inside. 

“We are doubling the security for tonight and then we’ll talk about the changes tomorrow,” he lets you know, following you inside. 

“Okay. Are you gonna stay in here?”

“Most likely,” he nods.

“Are you blaming yourself for tonight?”

He doesn’t answer, but his eyes talk for him. 

“You couldn’t have spotted the guy anyway, you would have been with me either way.” You walk closer to him, but keep some distance, sensing his distress.

“I wasn’t focusing fully,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Nothing happened, you–”

“Y/N,” he stops you from talking. “I’m responsible for your safety. Today I put that responsibility behind my feelings and that cannot happen again.”

“Is this your way of saying… you don’t want me the way I want you?” Now you’re moving closer, you need to reduce the distance between the two of you, it’s like something is pulling you towards him, a force that you’re not strong enough to fight. 

He stares at you for long seconds, taking a deep breath before he speaks up slowly in a calm manner.

“What I want does not matter when your safety is at risk. Let me… Let me do my job, let me do what I have to do to keep you safe. Please.”

It’s like he’s begging you, pleading for you to understand and… let go of him. And as much as you want it all to be different, you can’t go against his will and intentionally hurt him, there’s nothing you can do other than live with the pain. Like you always do.

“Okay,” you whisper and try your best to swallow back your tears, you’ve cried enough today. 

Harry exhales, like he’s relieved you’re not putting up a fight and to your surprise he cradles the back of your head and pulls you closer so he can place a kiss to your forehead. 

“I have to take care of a few things, Morrison will be in here until then, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod weakly. His hand falls from the back of your head and you watch him turn around and walk out of the apartment. 

You’re on autopilot. Have been for weeks.

Following the award ceremony things turned upside down once again. On one hand everyone has been on edge, because they couldn’t track the guy down, so your security has been doubled since then. Agents follow you everywhere, making it impossible to have a normal human interaction, not that you had plenty of friends to hang out with before. But still.

Your dad called that night and gave you some grand story about why he couldn’t make it to the ceremony, you told him it was fine, because you had no energy to lash out on him and you haven’t had a decent conversation with him since then. You can’t say it bothers you, it’s like there was a switch inside you that now allows you to give zero fucks about what your father does. You’ve canceled two events you were supposed to attend by his side, using the mystery intruder as an excuse, saying that you don’t feel safe out in public. You could tell he was annoyed, but didn’t question it. 

And then there is the Harry situation. Or the lack of it, if you’d like. It’s been hurting like hell, but there’s nothing you can do other than keep your promise of letting go of him. It’s just really hard when you spend so much time with him and have him in your apartment almost every night. 

You don’t watch TV anymore. You can’t bear being in the same room with him with no one else around. It’s hard enough to know he is on the other side of your bedroom door. You go back to coexisting, you silently follow his orders and not give him a headache when you know he already has a lot on his plate, he does his job in peace and everyone is happy.

Or not, but it doesn’t matter. 

The school semester is nearing its end and you’re already planning to ask to stay here for the summer. You know your dad will flip, but you’ll at least try to make a deal with him to attend events in the summer if it means you don’t have to move back home that doesn’t even feel home anymore. 

With your finals coming up you spend most of your time in the library. Surrounded by heavy books, hundreds of pages of notes, you’re working your ass off, because this is the only thing that could make you forget about your misery for a while. 

It’s a Friday afternoon, almost evening and you’re still very much working on a paper in the almost entirely empty library. It’s a great time, because most students avoid the building on Fridays, more interested in parties than books, so it’s a lot more peaceful. It’s your way of distraction from the fact that you have to make an appearance tomorrow for your dad and you can’t bail out of it this time. 

There are three agents near you and two more at the entrance, but Harry is not working now. He will probably take another night shift, not that you keep track of when he works…

You’re too focused to notice the group of people that come in, but when you spot a figure approaching you and the agents around you move instantly, you finally lift your head up from the book in front of you. You’re surprised to see Jaiden coming in your way, stopped by the agents.

“Jaiden?”

“Um, I just want to talk to her,” he says to the agents and you nod your head to let him through. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to give you something, thought you might be interested,” he shrugs as he passes you over a paper and with that he is already on his way, leaving you puzzled.

It’s a QR code so you grab your phone and read it and a website starts loading on your screen. When it finally loads, you feel all the blood rushing out of your head.

It’s a site basically dedicated to you, where people can send in anonymous comments and stories about you for everyone to read them. There are quite a few, a big chunk of them obviously from guys you’ve gone on dates with, dragging you through mud, a lot of them stating things that never even happened. 

You just scroll and keep reading them in total disbelief and then you hear laughter. You look up and see Jaiden with a group of fratboys, having a blast seeing you go through the site before they hoard out of the library. 

Your head is spinning and you feel like throwing up as you pack up your stuff as quickly as possible. It’s a struggle not to start sobbing on your way home, neither of the agents ask what’s wrong, because they are not your friend, they are there to keep you safe, but not from assholes, apparently. When you arrive to your apartment you see Harry already waiting by the door, but you avoid looking him in the eyes as you rush inside, wanting to lock yourself up in your room preferably forever. 

The tears start rolling down your cheeks when you hear someone coming after you and you know it’s Harry. 

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, keeping your back facing him so he can’t see your face.

“Then look at me, please.”

You don’t move, just stand there, silently crying and there’s no way of fooling him, he knows you better than anyone and your shoulders are shaking as well. Slowly, you turn around for him to see your face.

“What happened?” he asks, stepping closer, but he still keeps some distance between the two of you.

“Nothing, I said I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not fine, Y/N, don’t… don’t bullshit me, okay? Tell me what happened!”

He won’t give up, he won’t leave you alone until you say something so you pull your phone out of your pocket, open the website and hand it over to you. You watch him scroll for a minute before he looks up at you.

“We’re taking this down and we’ll find whoever did this,” he firmly says and before you could react he is already giving orders through his com. “They are on it. we’ll find them, don’t worry.” “Okay,” you breathe out and you turn around to lock yourself up in your bedroom, but he stops you.

“Y/N, wait!”

You look back at him, not even trying to mask how tired, defeated and hopeless you’re feeling. You must look like just a shadow of the person you used to be and the sight of you is probably just as depressing as you feel because it breaks the professional boundary that’s been between you and Harry.

He moves across the room and pulls you into his arms and you just start crying and sobbing uncontrollably while he holds you tight, gently rocking you from side to side to soothe you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into your hair and you just bury your face deeper into his neck, probably totally ruining his shirt, but neither of you cares about that right now. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you sob, melting into his embrace, because it feels like the only safe place for you.

“I know. I wish I could help you. Tell me what I can do for you.”

“Just please don’t leave me, not tonight, please!” you beg and fully expect him to pull the wall back up, but instead he just holds you even tighter.

“I would never leave you, Y/N.”

The amount of times you had to fake laugh tonight is ridiculously over the roof. It’s another evening where you’re just a tool, something your father can brag about but you hold no influence or whatsoever. 

You’re sipping on some champagne, but you’re careful with the alcohol consumption this time. Though you’re not sure how another situation like that last time would turn out now. Especially after that night after the website fiasco.

After soaking his shirt with your tears the two of you sat on the couch, you remained in Harry’s embrace and he talked you through it, until you momentarily forgot about what happened and somehow you ended up falling asleep. When you woke up you had a blanket over you and Harry was standing in his usual spot by the window, like a hound, watching out for danger. When he realized you woke up he walked you into your bedroom, tucked you in and sat beside you until you wófell back asleep. 

The website was down by the morning and the school was informed about it as well, taking matters into their hands to punish those who created it. You didn’t want to know the names, you just wanted to forget about the whole thing. 

That night changed things between you and Harry. You didn’t feel that wall between the two of you though there was still some distance, but it felt like you could overstep it easily. It’s like you’ve been dancing on a fence, still not sure which side you want to land on. You’re not planning to pressure him to choose, having him this close is already more than you had before so you’re happy to prolong it for as long as possible. 

You have no idea where the conversation is heading around you, you’ve zoned out of it long minutes ago. It’s not that you don’t understand what politicians, influential people tend to talk about at events like this. It’s more about how you recognize some of them know nothing about the field they work at and still hold the power. 

And you lost interest too. 

Holding your champagne flute your eyes wander over the room until they settle on Harry. He is by the window, what a shocker, examining the sea of guests around you, watching out like a hawk until his gaze meets yours and his expression softens. 

“Bored,” you mouth to him and you catch the smirk he tries hard to cover up.

“You got this,” he mouths back to which you frown, making him laugh.

His laugh.

You’ve been gifted with it more in the past few days than in the time you’ve known him and it’s definitely one of your favorite things in the entire world.

“Break?” you mouth once again and he just nods, moving instantly. 

Five minutes later you’re out on the balcony with him, two guards standing by the door inside. 

“This should be considered torture,” you sigh.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teases you.

“I’m not, I hate it here. Look around.” You stand beside him, staring inside at the sea of guests. “What am I doing here?”

“Supporting your dad.”

“I think he is fine without me,” you shrug, nodding towards him, he is standing in a circle of men, all of them pretending to be having a marvelous time, but you know for a fact at least two of those men would backstab him the first given chance. It’s all so pretentious and you’re tired of trying to be part of it for him.

“What would you like to do?” Harry asks.

“What do you mean?”

“If you could do anything, any job, anywhere, what would it be?”

You’ve never really thought of that before. A life that’s entirely what you want it to be is so far out of your reach that you never let yourself daydream about it. So now you take some time to think it through before sharing it with Harry.

“I would probably have a riding school,” is what you tell him at last. He looks at you surprised.

“Like… horses?”

“Yeah,” you smile softly, keeping your eyes ahead, staring at the people inside. “I used to ride a lot when I was smaller and I loved it a lot.”

“But you never do it anymore, why?”

“I wasn’t exceptional in it, never won any competitions so my dad thought I shouldn’t keep doing it. He talked me into quitting and I started learning French instead.”

“You speak French?” he asks in shock.

“No,” you chuckle, finally looking at him. “I was mad at him for making me quit horse riding so I never put any effort into my French classes, I can barely introduce myself.”

“Wow, such a rebel,” he chuckles quietly.

“What about you?”

“I don’t speak French.”

“I know that,” you roll your eyes. “I meant, what would you want to do if you could do anything?”

He curls his lips into his mouth as he thinks about it, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I think I would be living on a farm.”

“A farm?”

“Yeah. You know, growing stuff and keeping animals. I love the thought of growing everything I need.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smile at him. “I hope you get to do that one day.”

“I do too,” he nods and the two of you just stand there, watching the mingling and dancing guests.

It’s a moment you want to last longer, you feel close to him, like you’ve finally jumped off that fence and you’re running away. Together. 

So at last you decide to give him a little push.

“I wish we could be dancing there too.” 

Your voice is quiet, barely audible through the noises coming from inside and when he doesn’t say anything for a while you start to think he didn’t even hear it, or that he is ignoring your words because he doesn’t want to deal with them.

But then his hand gently takes yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I would… love that.”

Your chest feels like bursting and you wish you could just jump into his arms, but you know you can’t. So instead, you just stand there, enjoying this tiny, hidden moment that’s burning into your memories forever.

It was hard to focus on your conversations before, but now, after you’ve shared that special moment with Harry it’s kind of impossible.

You’re making your rounds around, chit-chatting and smiling as pleasantly as possible, but in your mind you’re still out on the balcony, holding hands with Harry.

Talking about him, you haven’t seen him in a little while. You look around, searching for him once again, probably for the millionth time in the past ten minutes, but you see no sign of him.

“Morrison, where’s Styles?” you ask the agent beside you.

“Your father asked to see him, Miss,” he informs you. 

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know, Miss, I’m sorry.”

You try not to think much of it, but when you finally spot him in the crowd your stomach drops, because his expression is anxious and angry at the same time, though he is trying hard to mask it. But you know him too well.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, instantly ignoring the conversation you’ve been in before. 

“Can’t talk right now, but we better leave.”

You don’t question him, just follow, though the way he is acting now is freaking you out. He is right next to you as you make your way out of the room, getting farther and farther from the rest of the guests.

“What happened?” you finally ask when you’re walking down the hallway that leads to the entrance.

“I don’t want to turn you against your father,” he answers, but now you’re just even more keen on knowing what’s going on.

“Harry, tell me!” you demand, stopping abruptly.

Not too willingly, but he comes to a halt as well, turning to face you as he leans closer.

“Your father kept it a secret that they got a letter yesterday in which someone threatened to hurt you today. He kept it from us, because he knew you wouldn’t come tonight if you found out.”

“What?” All the blood rushes out of your face as his words process. 

“He strengthened security for your sake and thought it would be alright, but I don’t want to risk it, we need to get you somewhere safe until we get to the bottom of this whole thing.”

“Okay,” you nod, a shiver running down your spine at just the thought of that letter your father hid from you. 

You’re nearing the exit when your father’s voice beams through the hallway, just when you’re already seeing your car outside.

“Y/N! Where are you going?!” 

He is rushing towards you with his own security team circling him and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“I’m leaving!”

“And you didn’t think of at least saying goodbye?”

“I’m not doing anything for you anymore. Not when you’ve intentionally put me in risk just so you could use me at another event!”

The look he gives Harry says it all. He is pissed that Harry told you about the threat, that someone went against his will.

“It’s not that serious, Honey. We have everything under control.”

“Is that so? Then who sent the letter?”

“We don’t know it yet, but—”

“What if it’s the same guy that’s been stalking me? What if it really is something serious?” You’re finally lashing out on him, something you probably should have done a lot earlier, but you didn’t have the balls. You’re done being the obedient, supportive daughter to a father that’s not returning it at all.

“We doubled security and I have people working on it! No need to–”

“Don’t tell me what I need and don’t need to do! I don’t feel safe anywhere anymore! You knew I would panic if I found out about it but you chose to hide it so you could use me tonight to show people how great of a family we are when in reality, you give no fucks about me!”

“Y/N, that is not true. I didn’t want to stress you out, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Lie. That is such a big fucking lie.

“I’m done. I’m done with you. Call me when you’re ready to be my father.”

Turning around you’re on your way out to the car, you hear your dad calling after you, but Harry stops him and it’s the first time you hear him talk so harshly to your father.

And then all hell breaks loose. But it’s not because of Harry’s way of talking to the president.

You’re approaching the car confidently, eager to get away from your dad and the madness that surrounds him, Harry is following you right behind and as you keep your gaze on the car suddenly you realize.

It’s not yours.

Everything happens so fast, but at the same time it’s like it’s in slow motion.

A guy jumps out of the car and points a gun right at you. The agents around you launch forward, but he is several feet away, so they don’t reach him before he pulls the trigger and shoots at you. In that moment you believe you’re about to die. Gasping in surprise you completely freeze, but then get pushed to the side with so much force you smash against the wall, pain jolting through your left arm instantly as the shot of the gun rings in your ear.

You fall to the floor the same time the agents tackle the shooter. From the corner of your eyes you see how your ad is being dragged away from the scene before he could get hurt as well, even though he is shouting your name, it’s protocol to rescue him and take him to a safe place right away.

As you look to your right you see another person on the floor and your heart skips a beat when you realize that it’s Harry, and a pool of blood is underneath you, growing rapidly each second.

He took the shot that was meant for you.

The rest is a blur. You start screaming and try to reach him while two agents pull you up from the floor to take you away from the scene as well, your arm hurts like hell, but you just keep screaming for Harry. 

At last you catch his face, you see him gasping for air, pure panic and fear all over his face, he looks at you one last time and you see a tear rolling down his face before you’re dragged away.

The constant beeping. It just keeps going and going and it’s driving him crazy. 

Crazy enough to finally open his eyes.

Harry is more than confused about his surroundings, the hospital room looks sterile, but nice, very nice if you ask him, so he knows he is at some kind of private facility. It takes a couple of moments for the pain to set in but when it does, it comes with all the memories as well.

He was shot in his chest when he pushed you out of the way, he remembers the pain he felt then which was a lot worse and more intense than the dull, pressure like feeling in his chest right now. He remembers lying on the floor and looking at you as two agents pulled you away and he knows he said his goodbye in that moment, because he was convinced he would die.

He didn’t. 

Now he is lying in a hospital bed, the machines hooked onto him keep beeping and tracking his vitals and when he turns his head slightly to the left the beeping intensifies because he sees you sleeping in an armchair next to his bed. 

You look awfully uncomfortable, but still breathtakingly beautiful, your left arm is in a cast and you’re cradling it to your chest. As if you could sense his wandering gaze, you start moving around and you blink your eyes open at last, seeing that Harry is finally awake.

“Hey,” he breathes out, barely finding the energy to speak, but you burst into tears right away as you fall forward, one hand coming to the side of his head, the other one holding his hand on the mattress.

“You’re awake, oh my God, I really thought I lost you!” You sob and try to take in the sight of him conscious and talking, something you didn’t think you’d ever see again when you saw him lying on the floor three days ago.

“I’m okay, I’m right here,” he exhales as his other hand comes to take your hand by his face. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“Harry, you were literally shot and you’re asking if I’m okay?” you laugh through your tears, finally cracking a smile from him as well. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you.”

“I’m fine, just broke my hand, but it’s okay. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

“Kind of. But it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? The bullet missed your heart by one millimeter. Doctors said it’s a miracle you survived.”

“Well, at least I know I’m not bulletproof,” he tries to joke and it makes you laugh and that was his only intention. 

You’ve stopped crying, but you wouldn’t move from beside him. You’ve been in this room since they brought him out of surgery and refused to leave since then. He reaches over and wipes your tears off your cheeks before cradling your face in his palm. You gladly lean into his touch and then turn your head to kiss into his hand without hesitation. 

You fill him in on what happened. Tell him about how he was rushed to hospital and the guy was caught and it was confirmed he sent the letter and he was the one stalking you at your apartment and award ceremony as well. You were afraid it was someone you knew, but apparently he was just some psycho who wanted to hurt your dad by hurting you.

It was a wakeup call to your father. One that he desperately needed after the stunts he has pulled lately, so you had a long talk outside of Harry’s room when he found out you were here with him. He apologized for everything and promised to be better. You told him his words mean nothing, you need to see the change in his actions. 

He has visited every day since then and you discussed the future as well. A future that will bring lots of change.

“You saved my life,” you quietly say, still kind of in shock about what happened.

“I would do it again,” he replies. 

“You won’t be able to work again because of it,” you tell him. The bullet grazed his lung as well and the doctors said he might never be able to reach the same physical limits like before.

“It doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t lose you and that’s what matters.”

His words sink in and you have to fight your tears again as you rest you lean closer, until your faces are just inches away.

“I don’t want to feel again the way I did when I thought you died. I don’t want to keep my distance, I… I love you and I want to be with you.”

Harry exhales heavily, his eyes fall closed and when they open again you get lost in them.

“I love you too. And I want to be with you too, always have.”

You let out a laugh that’s mixed with relief, happiness, pain and so much anticipation before you push closer and finally press your lips to his.

Years of built up tension and passion is set free as you kiss him and he returns it just as eagerly. It’s not at all how you imagined your first kiss, not with a cast on your arm or Harry lying in a hospital bed after being shot, but none of it matters in this moment, only him. There’s no more playing around, pushing each other away, this is end game and you both know it. 

“So…” you mumble against his lips, “Will you move to a farm with me?”

“Moving? Aren’t we rushing a little ahead?” he chuckles, brushing some loose strands of hair out of your face before pecking your lips shortly.

“No. I don’t want to waste any more time. Let’s do what we always wanted to do.”

“What about your life? Your dad?”

“I already told him I’m stepping back from my first daughter duties. He is okay with it.”

“Really?”

“I mean, he doesn’t have much saying in what I do after almost getting me killed,” you joke, though you both know how serious the matter was.

“And you’re sure you want to move on… with me?”

You smile at him softly, it’s so typical he is questioning your decision even after everything that happened. He surely needs some time to adjust to this new version of you and him where there’s no wall between the two of you, just love.

Leaning down you kiss his lips softly.

“There’s no one else I would do it with, Harry.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lya-dustin]

Vengeance is Mine

For @maidmerrymint

Very loosely based on Pasión the telenovela by Televisa and will be a series

Technically oc but written as a reader's pov

Cw: death, drama, pirate au, manipulation, revenge

7/17/24: so i know i said this would be a series but idk its just not letting me continue it. Probably because Aemond is no Ricardo de Salamanca and I don't really like damsels in distress. If one of yall wants to finish or make something with it, feel free to ask.

He is not the boy he was four years ago.

Aemond had lost control of Vhagar, and she had eaten Lucerys Velaryon over Shipwreck Bay and began the bloodiest war since the Conquest. In the ensuing chaos Aegon was killed by Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest and Aemond banished from Westeros on the penalty of death.

It was only because of you that he was spared his life.

Vhagar had not survived long after Aemond the Kinslayer proved his mettle as mercenary and led him to be forced into joining a pirate’s crew to survive. Now he was the Valyrian, Captain of the Mother’s Sorrows.

His mother blames you for their misfortunes most of all.

Had you not existed Ormund Hightower wouldn’t have betrayed them, had you not existed he would have Vhagar and burn down her enemies to something lower than ash and Aegon would still be alive as King. You had no child from Lyonel Hightower even as his stepmother whelped bastard after bastard, mother claims you have poisoned your own womb to ensure Jacaerys became king.

Alicent’s anger had turned to madness from the grief, he had seen. Though he could not blame his mother for losing her sanity after seeing her father and son’s heads be paraded about the city with her in chains of gold behind them.

She was dying, Helaena had written days ago.

Winter Fever had swept into Westeros and just when it seemed to have died down, Mother had contracted it from her Septas in the motherhouse by the sea she has been locked in since Aegon’s reign fell before its six-moon mark.

Aemond knows it is a death sentence for him to see her, but he just needed to see her. just once more to say goodbye.

And he does, the Matron of the motherhouse smuggles him in as Osferthe, a dragonseed turned Septon, in case anyone catches a glimpse of his silvery hair.

“My son! my sweet boy, have you come to me at last?” His mother is drenched in sweat, skin flushed with fever and despite the ice in her bath, she is hot as dragon’s breath.

“Yes, mother, I have come to see you. You are on your fourth day and all will be well again,” he swallows back the grief of knowing she will not live to see the dusk turn to day outside of her window.

She is kept as a lady of her status; Rhaenyra had not been the tyrant he had been told she’d be after Luke took his eye. She is wary of them but has not handed them to the executioners or the confessors.

Helaena is happy with her husband who dotes on her three children as if they were his and has a daughter, little Daenaera, who their mother has gone as far as to call a bastard. Daeron, their brother, had wed Rhaena of Pentos after being knighted by Rhaenyra a king would have done. They had fared well, better than him in any case.

“My sweet boy, do not lie to me. I know it won’t be long before I join my mother and father and your sweet brother in the seven heavens.” She tries to reach out to touch him beyond the thin curtain of her bed, but she is too ill to even lift her bone thin arm. She had taken to fasting until he came home once and for all, it was why the illness had become fatal to her. “I want you to promise me something so I may rest easy, my love.”

“Anything you ask I will do, mother.” Against the Septa’s warnings he moves aside the curtain and takes her hands, not caring he would sicken and die as she will.

“I want you to ruin her. I want you to avenge us against her no matter how it is done. For me, for your brother.” She whispers her last request just as her body is wracked by a seizure.

“I promise you I will not rest until it is done.” Aemond the Kinslayer vows as his mother’s convulsions end the Queen in Chains.

His mother has yet to be buried in Kingslanding when the Gods show him revenge is what they need from him.

You had been beset by slavers when traveling from Kingslanding to Oldtown by ship because your husband didn’t want to be emasculated by your dragon nor was travelling by road a possibility. Amid the Daughters' War, Sharako Lohar had taken a gambit and paid for it with his life just as Lyonel did when his folly overrode all good sense.

Aemond did not give a shit about Westeros beyond Daeron Velaryon’s safety for Helaena’s sake, but he couldn’t get close to Rhaenyra unless he had a reason to be welcomed back. The Stepstones would have been a nice gift, but in you he had an even better thing to offer.

“Unhand me! I am Princess of Dragonstone and demand you return me to my mother!” you shout with as much authority a soaking wet girl shivering under a ratty woolen blanket can muster.

“Dear Aemee, is this how you thank your saviors?” he hasn’t called you that since he took your maidenhead the night his father died. Then he had loved you, and you were to be his wife and it wouldn’t even have mattered if there was a babe in your belly before your nuptials.

Now you were the widow of Lyonel Hightower as well as the Queen’s heir. Rhaenyra’s only legitimate child and only daughter. You were worth a kingdom, or in his case, a royal pardon.

And something far worse, the source of your mother’s ruin.

You are treated well, washed and dressed in the clothes found in a trunk stolen from your ship and given the Captain’s Cabin as ordered by Aemond.

Aemond who everyone believed dead three years past.

Aemond whom you had loved since the two of you were children.

Aemond who had murdered your little brother.

“I didn’t die with Vhagar that night, I was saved by pirates who put me to work like any other slave. I earned my freedom and my ship by proving my salt, as you Velaryons put it.” He is reserved in ways he was never with you, but he serves you watered down wine to settle the nerves you hide and even offers you food off his own plate, so you know it isn’t tainted.

“I am grateful to the Gods that they spared you, I feared Daemon had a hand in your murder, well, attempted murder.” You admit taking the mulled wine avoiding the staring he elicits in you.

He had changed, skin a golden tan, with the scruff of a fine beard on his chin and a hardness to him similar and yet unlike the one he had before this all happened.

“If he had, he would’ve succeeded, but alas it was my own overconfidence that did me in. You always said my arrogance knew no limits when you were cross with me.” Aemond joins you at his table, and stares at you to see how the last image of you compares to what he sees before him.

Last he saw you; you were a maid of six and ten begging your mother for his life. Dressed in mourning for your brother with your heart torn between the young man you loved and the fact he had killed Lucerys and been celebrated for it. But you had fallen to your knees and used the Courts favor for you to change her mind and banish him instead.

He was not allowed to see you after, not allowed to take anything save his weapons, some coin for lodgings and whatever Vhagar’s saddlebags had.

Alicent had been made to kiss your feet in thanks so he knew his mother’s life would be taken as well if he dared to rise against Rhaenyra.

The absolute loathing in the deposed queen’s face was something you could never forget.

You had not wanted that, but no one asks what you want anyways. If it pleased mother, she could disinherit you in favor of Jace and you would not be able to say anything about it.

“I am sorry for your loss, Aemond. I know how much you loved her.” You say knowing what had brought him to this side of the Narrow Sea.

“You know why I rescued you, don’t you.” He does not beat around the bush, and you nod knowing this was not done out of the goodness of his heart. He would buy himself safety to at least pay his respects to his mother or put an end to his exile.

“Mother would pay anything for us, the least she could do is allow you to say goodbye to your mother.” You know she would never end his exile; he had killed Luke in under a peace banner, but your life had to be worth something or else you know he would’ve let you die.

He nodded in agreement and the two of you supped in silence, you had not been fed since you were captured and almost forgot your manners to which he even smiled at the turn of events.

“Did you love him?” Aemond asks a question you had known would come. You could not simply forget a love that had been nurtured through a lifetime together, vows made in secret and a sense of belonging you could never find with anyone else.

“I prayed more often for the Stranger to take him than to change his heart.” You admit knowing he would not tell. “I would rather the throne went to Jace and his daughters than let his seed take root inside me.”

“I have to say widowhood suits you, Aemee.” He liked your candor going by the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I must enjoy it while I can, mother will be hounding me to remarry and keep those vultures from circling about me.” You may as well had professed your love to him given you had only been with two men your entire life. But the two of you had as much chance of being together in this life as the Wall crumbling to the ground.

“I could help you with that, once you gain me a pardon.”

You shouldn’t agree to this, but you do. What other choice do you have? Aemond killed your brother and become a cold-blooded pirate whose reputation preceded him. He could toss you overboard or sell you like the pirates sold Johanna Swan.

“Tell her grace I will not release her daughter unless my terms are agreed.” The Valyrian orders his quartermaster to deliver his terms, along with proof that you and the others rescued were unharmed. He could not dock in Westeros until he was assured no arrests would be made the second, he entered their waters. “Be sure that the men you take with you spread their stories, Cole.”

For your alleged safety he shares his bed with you. He claims his men could betray him to ruin you and, as the prince he was raised to be, he sleeps beside you with his sword between the two of you. Even here in his hideaway in Essos, you are not let out of his presence.

By the time the two of you arrived here rumors had flown that you had celebrated Lyonel’s death with Aemond these past nights, his doing of course.

It was said that Rhaenyra had grown paranoid, that she had Lady Misery’s spies keep watch on everything you did as well. His half-sister would hear of how you shared Aemond’s bed and hardly left his side and believe you are the whore she is.

Rhaenyra will force moon tea down your throat like Viserys is said to have done to her and only he would be able to comfort you over the loss of your mother’s trust.

It would be easy.

You have always loved him; he could tell you the truth about what happened that night and you’d be the Aemma who would believe the moon was made of cheese if he said so.

You would hate him after, but he saved your life making the two of you even, so he no longer owes you anything.

“What will you do if she refuses?” You ask, hiding your fears well, but not good enough for him to be fooled by it. You could never fool him, he knew you better than you knew yourself, he’d wager.

You lay beside him, as the two of you used to do for so long. The sword removed by your own volition as he wormed his way back into your heart little by little. You have yet to give into your pining for him, but you will do it soon enough.

“I’d keep you until she gives in. I could never hurt you, silly girl.” He answered caressing your soft face with a calloused hand knowing you’d eat up his words like you always did.

You’d hate him after, even if he wed you and tied your claim to his when he usurps your mother, you would hate him for it.

But his mother would rest peacefully and that was all that mattered.

[missjanjie]

9 and K

9. Rosé/Denali | K. Stripper/Porn Star AU

yall know i had to set it in the poison paradise universe lol

-

“So, is this a voyeurism thing for you?” Denali asked as she adjusted her lighting, “or was this just out of curiosity to see how it compares to stripping?” 

Rosé shrugged as she straddled the desk chair on the other side of the setup, safely out of view but with the best seat in the house. “Do I really need a reason to wanna watch you fuck yourself on a dildo almost as long as my forearm? I think it would be much more offensive if I didn’t wanna take a peek."

“Touché,” she conceded as she changed into the lingerie that one of her subscribers had bought for her. It was a lacy, pink getup that was both crotchless and cupless, essentially leaving her naked with decorations. She found it more convenient – she got to look hot without wasting time undressing. “Just one last thing,” she hummed as she fixed her blonde wig onto her head. “How do I look?”

“Like the sluttiest Barbie in all of Malibu.” 

Denali beamed brightly. “Perfect! Thank you, Rosie.” It was only a few minutes into recording the video that she looked towards her girlfriend with a smirk. “You know, if you wanted to give me something… motivating to look at, I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

She tossed her head back and laughed. “That’s a lot of words for ‘show me your tits’, babe,” she teased, but tugged off her shirt and bra nonetheless. At her height, Denali was still able to see her leaning against the desk while she filmed on the bed without seeming suspicious. 

The filming was the easy part, which she supposed was what most people thought. Her solo videos were often filmed within an hour, it was the editing that took ages. “So,” she prompted as she dismounted from the toy, “what did you think?” 

Rosé smirked as she moved to join her on the bed. “I think we need to make a video for our personal collection, next.”

[kworus]

As promised, here's an analysis of why I firmly believe Aziraphale's actions in s2e6 are in character and why I don't believe in the coffee theory. Obviously I could be wrong but I've been overanalyzing everything to distract myself from THE HORRORS so here's this. ***good omens s2 spoilers below.*** this is kinda long btw

If yall dont know, the coffee theory revolves around the coffee the metatron gave to Aziraphale, and claims that he was poisoned/brainwashed by said coffee. The two main arguments, excluding that to many aziraphale felt ooc, are that a small miracle sound could be heard and that the metatron puts some attention to the amount of almond syrup in the coffee, as if he was hiding some kind of smell. I lowkey believed this theory because it is true that Aziraphale´s actions feel weird, and something else has to be going on. But that is because we are seeing things from Crowley´s point of views.

Crowley sees this as Aziraphale choosing heaven over him, the same heaven that betrayed him and treated him like shit. On top of that, earlier he saw Gabriel and Beelzebub end up together so easily, and that is just so unfair to him. However, Aziraphale thinks he is not *going back* to heaven, he's changing it, because he truly believes heaven is good, its just the people running him that fuck everything up. Where Crowley saw an injustice with how easy it was for the ineffable bureaucracy aziraphale sees a chance, specially since he's now replacing Gabriel. If he could do it then so can he! He can make heaven worthy of him and Crowley.

Now i want to go back to the metatron for a moment and how i think he really is manipulating aziraphale. If he has the power to brainwash aziraphale to do whatever he wants what is the point of telling him he can be with Crowley to convince him? What the metatron is doing is convincing aziraphale that they are on the same side, after all they both enjoy human food and the metatron doesn't mind that he's with Crowley. It's also important to note that azi doesn't know in detail that even Gabriel couldn't convince the other angels of not making another armageddon. But even if he knew he has the metatron on his side right? He believes it can be different with him in charge. The coffee is just a way for the metatron to show his “human side” to aziraphale.

Back to aziraphale, one of the moments where he felt heavily out of character for me is when he says nothing lasts forever because he spent a whole season saving the earth just so he could enjoy earthly pleasures with Crowley, and he loves his bookshop so much. How can he give this up so easily? But what he probably meant was that he's willing to give everything on earth that he loves to safely be with Crowley, and his only way to do that is to change heaven from the inside. Otherwise, they would be fighting the armageddon over and over again. This IS in character for him if you see it from his perspective.

Finally, if aziraphales decision was only atributed to some kind of brainwashing all of the possible ineffable husbands future arc would lose all its meaning. Aziraphale has said at times that crowley goes too fast for him (he said it about driving too fast but symbolism) 6000 YEARS IS TOO FAST FOR HIM!!! He needs time to process everything and we even have a parallelism with nina and maggie. Everyone was expecting them to immediately end up together just because they fell in love and nina is now single, but she needs time and thats realistic!! Shes not ready for another relationship but eventually she will, and maggie will wait for her. Aziraphale and crowley have a similar situation, only with 6000 years of angst and ineffability. The coffee theory would erase all of the complexity and chance of development of aziraphale character. Lets remember that this is the worlds slowest slow burn, it wont become fast all of the sudden. So i guess we just have to wait and see and thats gonna drive me fucking insane.

[insideliascrazyhead]

The Sannoh Hoodlum Squad shenanigans 2

Tetsu:Local Cinnamon-roll that blasts the most screeching death metal out there!

Naomi:Cobra who was peacefully and drunkly sleeping nearly jumped out of his skin

Shiba:I loved it

Yamato:It was hilarious.

Dan:I nearly pissed myself laughing man

Noboru:So did Cobra and he wasn´t even laughting

Leave your leader alone

Smokey:The poor bastard

Murayama:Why would Cobra-chan be taking naps on the table anyways?!

Hyuga:Concussion nap.

Smokey:Depression.

Rocky:Tequila

Cobra:You read it Murayama choose your favorite answer.

Tetsu:This man will never be able to dress even if it would be to save his life

Murayama:I ain´t complaining.

Rocky:since when does Cobra wear his tits almost out?

Naomi:Mugen....crazy times for playboy Cobra.

Yamato:Still crazy how he survived this time without STD

Noboru:Or a shit ton of kids

Hyuga:TMI!Now I see it in my head....

Cobra:Congratulations.

Dan:Now he´s sick of being single probably

Cobra:Yeah I´m excluded from nights because I´m in desperate need of some action.

Tetsu:He looks a bit like a escort

Cobra:What?! Chiharu:A luxus escort Cbra-san!

Murayama:Now that´s how he earns money....

Shiba:We told yall gas station constantly closed for a great reason

Dan:He´s on his way to shoot onlyfans content.

Cobra:I will just go get cigarettes,might not be back....

Tetsu:The politeness and rudeness after Cobra´s ridiculus scream

Naomi:how cute Chiharu tries not to laugh

Junko:Cobra screamed so loud we heard it all the way down the street!

Oshiage:we thought someones dead!

Tetsu:Yeah R.i.p Cobra´s dignity.You will be missed

Yamato:pouring out one for our homie dignity!Gonna miss you man....

Cobra:pull that shit again and I swear the members of Sannoh Rengokai go missing!

Noboru:Cobra.Don´t leave social media evidence for crimes.

Cobra:Whatever I would do great in jail.

Hyuga:Not with that face.Or that hair.

Rocky:Or his manly squealing.

Tetsu:On the road reloaded!

Noboru:I don´t even wanna fucking know how you managed this photo

Dan:Let´s just say Chiharu ran over the phone....

Cobra:Dumbasses

Rocky:At least they wear helmets?! Naomi:Because they need each braincell they get.

Smokey:Well Cobra seems like you got some extra to spare then,I never see him wear one

Cobra:Eat me you prick.

Hyuga:With all the hits Cobra took to the head over the years,man gotta start wear one when he ain´t on the damn motorcycle.

Tetsu:Pre-Painkiller giggle Cobra; nearly taken out by a eager Chiharu!

YamatoChiharu nearly offed Cobra with that wannabe bodyslam man!

Noboru:Can you feel his blood on your skin?!Killer!

Cobra:Not dead jet....

Chiharu:For that he did kick me.

Dan:Yeah sadly only nearly in the jewels....

Tetsu:A shame really.

Cobra:and will again I swear you crazy squirrel!

Rocky:That´s the literal even though concerning but only way Cobra has any action in bed

Cobra:wouldn´t you wanna know old man

Hyuga:Cobra´s probably a manwhore,I mean look at him!

Smokey:Yeah the injured guy in the hospital bed it totally being a whore right now.What the hell man?

Cobra:Whores at least get paid for sex.I do that for my own entertainment.

Naomi:Wise words of a total dumbass

Tetsu:Long nights....

Rocky:didn´t we explain it´s wrong to drug your leader

Naomi:Cobra drank on his own grown up free will

Shiba:it´s too easy with that dumbass you just give him a glass and tell him to drink

Tetsu:just like Yamato would eat anything you give him

Dan:even whatever Cobra cooked

Yamato:it wasn´t that bad

Noboru:the shit looked poisonous dude!

Chihaur:and it was on fire!

Cobra:Oh c´mon I survived those years with my cooked food too!

Hyuga:Yeah crazily.

Smokey:Barely.

Yamato:All you eat is takeout and candy!

Cobra:No I don´t!

Yamato:Explain that to your trash!

Cobra:What do you fucking do in my trash?!Stalker!

Noboru:You threw his phone in there when it woke us up at 7 in the morning

Cobra:no human should be awake at that time.

Yamato:Normal people who gotta work a normal job do!

Tetsu:Earned break time

Noboru:Go back to work Yamato you´re poor

Yamato:Oi!Upper middle class!Also on break!

Smokey:You´re always on break with tools in your hands?

Shiba:Tried to eat them probably

Hyuga:Don´t be mean for someone with Yamato´s little amount of brain cells it´s hard to focus on

two tasks so he just makes a break with the tools

Rocky:drunk from last night and thought that´s Cobra and Noboru

Dan:probably was angry they don´t answer him

Chiharu:But Cobra rarely talks

Tetsu:Oh kid you´re gonna learn how to be fluent in Cobra silence and other noises as sign of living soon.

Tetsu:Grumpypants

Oshiage:Screw you or I´m gonna hit you with my damn shoe again!

Naomi:I´m gonna join the beating

Cobra:I would love to see Tetsu get beaten with a shoe

Noboru:Cobra.no.

Dan:Try again.

Cobra:Whatever then I at least pretend to stop her

Yamato:a true leader everyone

Tetsu:bittersweet beautiful revenge of the Cobra twist.

Cobra:The squeaky toy noises that came out of you where hilaious.

Yamato:No im bruising!

Dan:Tell others it´s lovebites

Noboru:Yeah from a snake.Romantic.

Chiharu:He doesn´t speak to anyone exept us tho...

Tetsu:And his mom

Cobra:revenge wouldn´t be necessary if you don´t open your trap otherwise there´s no forgiveness.only death.:)

Yamato:dramatic motherfucker

Naomi:also  nobody would date him that means you basically date Cobra and Noboru too

Shiba:that would be too exhausting.

Murayama:We love a Cobra twist.

Rocky:You just love Cobra.Not the twisting part idiot.

Murayama:was on the recieving end though!Then he threw me through the room with literally only his legs that´s hella impressive!

Hyuga:In his playboy times he probably trained his legs a lot.In multible positions.

Smokey:You dirty bastard.

Tetsu:Sannoh beauty session!

Rocky:Did he inhale to much face masks?

Hyuga:Hair dye seeks into his brain!

Smokey:Too much hair spray fumes.

Corba:Can´t I just be in a great mood?!Whatßs wrong with you?!

Murayama:You´re Cobra-chan!You don´t have a good mood.Like ever.

Junko:only crazy destruction and sadness

Cobra:Eat me!

Tetsu:Hard times

Naomi:He looks so ashamed it´s adorable.

Shiba:such a beautiful scolding

Junko:sucessful day

Rocky:That´s what he get´s when he behaves like that

Noboru:You don´t even know what he has done now

Rocky:Solidarity.

Murayama:omg I love this

Hyuga:ill pay whatever you want for a video of that scolding

Rocky:Imma double it if Noboru and Cobra get scolded too

Noboru:oh no they love me.So does Yamatos mother.Sorry gonna throw you and Cobra under the bus here man

Murayama:So your mom needed to adopt a kid that turned out to be a dissapointment too.Sorry Cobra-chan.Then another one until she found the right one?!Damn.

Naomi:Naah that woman just has a big heart for strays

Tetsu;So does Yamato.See Chiharu.

Tetsu:Celebrating victory

Smokey:You gotta get your leaders head checked

Murayama:that looks like he took a few nasty hits.

Naomi:I will get the big first aid kit...

Shiba:Cobra and Yamato look like they got hit by a truck.

Cobra:Relax it was just Kohaku.

Yamato:He nearly choked you to death though

Cobra:whatever a lot of people have that urge.

Hyuga:Understandable

Rocky:Cobra does look zoned out you might wanna check on him

Junko:lights on nobody up in there

Tetsu:more painkiller giggles and forced water.Hydrate or Diedrate!

Naomi:I still hear his whine of That teuqila tastes weird!

Yamato:When I tried to explain it´s not tequila and he nearly teared up and said is that supposed to be beer?!That´s even worse you sick Bastard.I nearly peed mysielf laughing.

Noboru:Didn´t he threw the cheese slice from his burger at you then?!

Yamato:Yeah it was horrible.that shit was still hot!

Cobra:luckewarm at best you drama queen

Murayama:I love S.W.O.R..D

Naomi:That smack was great too!it hit you right in the head

Dan:He shoul´ve been in a sugar coma from all the candy by then anyways 

Tetsu:It was great when he basically threw out his money for candy at the grocery store and Noboru tried to argue that future not high Cobra is gonna be pissed!

Chiharu:“Future Cobra is a dick and faaar away!Until then I gotta use that cash now.For candy,cigarettes and dumb unecessary stuff like that which just makes me feel better!“

Rocky:Gotta see that shit

Hyuga:sadly hes relativly okay now

Murayama:I could break his leg!Then off to the emergency room Cobra-chan goes!

Hyuga:Or I hit him with my car!That´s too easy.

Yamato:Nobody goes near him what the fuck you crazy bastards?!

Murayama:No killing Cobra-chan or Imma take you to Oya and let the crazy full timers have your ass!Only leg breaking....Maybe.

[darknessawaits28]

The Last of Us {The Siblings of Hospitality Pt. 3}

{Hello my lovies, here's another part of the story, hope you enjoy! If you want Pt. 1 and Pt.2, check out my profile, it should be there! Thank you all for your love and support! Love yall! :3 }

A few minutes later, Beth came strolling out of the steaming bathroom, wearing a simple black shirt and checkered black pajama pants.

"Ah, that felt so good, alright shower's all yours, Ellie," Beth hummed happily as she wrapped a towel around her head and threw her dirty clothes in the hamper by the bathroom.

"Great, thanks!" Ellie shot up from the couch, grabbed her clothing, and hygienic products and rushed past Beth.

"Ellie, if you need help turning on the shower, let me know," Beth called from the outside.

"Okay, thank you!" Ellie called back, putting her stuff on the little stool beside the wall and began to take her dirty clothes off.

"Okay, so I guess I just turn this?" Ellie questioned, turning the knob, cold water dripping down her naked body. "Ah!" She jumped, quickly turning the knob to the other side, boiling hot water coming out. "Oh my gosh!" Ellie groaned in anger as she turned the knob facing up, having it line up in the middle, the perfect temperature of water dripping down her body.

"Ellie, you okay, honey?" Beth questioned after hearing the groans and squeaks coming from within.

"Yeah, I just had some trouble but I figured it out!"

"Alright" Beth snickered, walking over to the living area and sat on the other couch that was across from Joel.

"Is she alright?" Joel asked curiously, hoping that she didn't break anything.

"Yeah, I'm guessing she just had some trouble turning the knob to the right temperature but she figured it out."

"Oh, okay, I got worried that she might've done some damage that would've cost me my ass."

"Oh trust me, we've made sure to reinforce that shower, we don't want to lose it...that thing has been a serious life saver" Beth chuckled, fixing herself on the couch where she could cross her legs.

"Sounds about right, when I was traveling with Ellie, I kept thinking back to when I had a home, a running shower, coffee...damn....I would kill for a cup of joe" Joel exhaled in sadness.

"Coffee?" Beth smirked as she stood from the couch, rushing over to the kitchen to whisper to Myra.

Joel, confused by the situation, turned his head around to see what was she doing and why did she smirk?

"What's up Beth?" "Oh, of course, I got one ready, you want to give it to him?"

"Yeah, hand it over so I can surprise him!"

"Okay, okay, take it easy, and don't forget about your food, its nice and hot, and I don't want to have to throw out a perfectly good meal."

"Listen to Myra Beth, if you don't eat, I won't give you food for two days" Andrew warned her, finishing up the last bit of the vegetables that was left on his plate.

"I know guys, I'll eat in a few minutes" Beth groaned as she grabbed the cup of coffee from Myra and scurried back over to Joel.

"Here."

"What's this?" Joel gulped in worry.

"Just drink it, I promise it isn't bad or poisoned."

"Oh that's reassuring" Joel chuckled, grabbing the cup of the mysterious substance and then took a sip. "No way, is this coffee?!" he nearly shouted, continuing to drink the delicious bean substance.

Beth giggled cutely at his reaction, quickly sitting back down on the couch, watching him cling to the cup of coffee for dear life. "It was going to go to my brother but he was nice enough to let you have it."

"Thank you Andrew" Joel called back to him, Andrew giving him a little wave, an indication of a 'you're welcome' from him.

"So, is Ellie your daughter?"

Joel's eyes quickly shot up to look into Beth's beautiful brown eyes, not wanting to answer that question because he didn't want anything to happen to that little girl, but mostly because Ellie reminded him of his own daughter; and he would stop at nothing to protect her. He knew that these were good people, but his protective instincts would never leave him until him and Ellie were in a safe place. "No, she isn't" he sternly spoke, taking another sip of his coffee cautiously.

"Oh, before the infection spread, did you have a daughter and a wife?"

"Why are you asking me these questions?" "You going to turn us into some where, sell us for money or whatever the hell you guys need?"

"Woah, take it easy, I was simply asking-"

"You're asking too many questions that I don't want to respond to, so why don't you just drop it" Joel lashed at her, unaware of how sensitive she was.

Beth, swallowed her pride and stood from the couch, walking over to the kitchen area, taking a few bites of her food; and then quickly rushing upstairs to her room.

Joel sighed deeply, finishing the cup of coffee and then walking over to the kitchen to hand Myra the empty cup; feeling like a complete asshole after snapping at Beth. "Am I allowed to go upstairs?" he asked Andrew, wanting to go apologize.

"HA!" "Now you want to go upstairs, after what you did back there to my sister" Andrew growled, grabbing the steak knife he used to cut his food and held it against Joel's neck.

"Andrew!" Myra gasped as she put the empty cup in the washing bin and tried to calm him down.

Joel jumped slightly at the feeling of the metal against his neck, his hands quickly shooting up in defense. "I-I know....I-I just....those questions bring...back bad memories and I didn't want to remember them."

"Hey, what's going here?" Ellie asked, walking up to the three with a towel wrapped around her head and her dirty clothes in her arms.

Andrew glanced over at Ellie, pulling the knife away and then shaking his head, "Why don't you go wash up Joel and then you can head upstairs" He spoke harshly, slamming the knife against the table and then headed towards the stables to check on the horses and livestock.

"Nothing happened sweetie, why don't you give me those clothes and have a seat, dinner is ready" Myra kindly said to Ellie, trying to distract her from what had just happened.

"Oh, okay, thank you" Ellie smiled as she handed Myra her dirty clothes and then sat at the table.

As Myra left to put the clothes in the hamper, Joel turned to face Ellie, "You okay Joel?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm going to go take a shower, eat all your food okay."

"I'm not five years old Joel" Ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing the fork and began to eat.

Joel snickered at her response and walked over to the couch, grabbing his things and heading towards the bathroom to take a shower. Once he stripped his clothing, he turned the shower knob, the warm water hitting every inch of his body, a relaxing sigh escaping his lips as a result. "Man it feels good to take a shower" he groaned in pleasure, beginning to wash away the dirt that littered his body. He was glad that he was finally able to use a bar of soap to clean himself after days of probably stinking like sweat and wet dog. After about half an hour, Joel stepped out of the shower, drying and combing his hair to perfection. Once complete, he exited the bathroom and tossed his dirty clothing in the hamper, and then approached the dinner table.

Hearing Joel's return, Myra dried her hands and turned around to face him, "Before you go upstairs, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, name it."

"Take this plate of food with you, Beth barely ate anything and I don't want her to wake up early in the morning with a headache." "You are more than welcome to take your plate of food with two water bottles."

"Oh, of course, and thank you" Joel nodded to Myra and grabbed Beth's plate along with his; accompanied by two water bottles he managed to put under his arms.

"Mm, oh my gosh Joel, this food is fucking great!" Ellie hummed as she finished the last bits of the meat, wanting to savor it last.

"Language kiddo and yeah, I can't wait to try mine." "I'll be back okay, so behave."

Ellie moved her head side to side, mocking him a bit as she grabbed her plate and handed it to Myra who continued washing the dishes. "Uh, do you need help with that?"

"Oh, if you want, yeah, can you start drying those dishes I have on those towels please?"

"Yeah, I got you" Ellie smiled cutely, grabbing another towel and began to dry the dishes.

Joel smiled at how helpful Ellie was, it was as if she felt like this was her home; man how stupid he was to overreact to simple questions. With that, he slowly walked up the stairs, reaching the top of a long metal hallway that divided into four places, "Shit, which is her room?" he gulped, not wanting to enter a room that wasn't hers. As he continued down the long metal hall, he caught a glimpse of a stuffed animal by a door. "Hmm, guess this is her room?" he shrugged, approaching the door and then knocking at it with his foot gently, hoping that she wasn't sleeping.

"Andrew I'm not going do-" Beth went quiet at the sight of Joel holding two plates and two water bottles. "What is this hmm?"

"Well, this is a thing called food, it makes your tummy happy" Joel spoke in a child like tone of voice, wanting to tease her.

Beth couldn't help but crack a smile when she heard his funny little voice, "Come on in then, make yourself at home."

Once Joel had her permission, he entered her room and was hit with an overwhelming sense of comfort by the sight of her stuffed animals, the color scheme of her room, and the plants that were by the small window she had. "My, such a wonderful room you have" He awkwardly said.

"Thanks, I try" Beth chuckled, closing the door behind her and then grabbing a chair and a table. "You can sit on this chair, I'll sit on my bed" she offered him, putting the small table in front of her bed, and then chair on the other side of the table.

"Oh, alright, thanks" Joel nodded, putting the plates of food on the table as carefully as possible and then sat down.

Beth also sat down, grabbing the fork that was already on her plate and began to eat, "So, my brother allowed you upstairs, that's a first."

"Well I-I just wanted to apologize for my behavior, I had no right to treat you in such a way after all the hospitality you've provided Ellie and I."

"It's okay, you should just be happy that I didn't cut your throat right then and there for speaking to me that way" Beth glared up at him, taking a bite of the meat she had on her fork.

Joel gulped nervously, also taking a bite of the meat on his fork and began to chew it, "Well, I'm glad you didn't, so thank you."

Another half an hour had passed as the two laid on Beth's bed, looking up at the ceiling and retelling stories of their adventures. "That is simply impossible, how were you able to take down a four hundred pound bear?" Joel asked curiously, not believing a word she said.

"Hey, I did, it was a bit difficult and it took a lot of knife jabs, but I was able to take it down." "My brother was very proud of me, and so was I." "One thing's for sure, I was glad that he skinned it and not me."

"Yeah, skinning an animal can be a lot, especially a bear" Joel chuckled, turning his head to look at her, finding her so beautiful and fierce; it was making a lustful heat rise up from within.

Beth turned her head to face Joel, noticing that he was staring at her, "What, do I got something on my face?" she joked, her eyes completely being memorized by his own.

"No, you just....look....beautiful~"

"Oh" Beth's eyes rose a bit, shocked to hear such words from another man. "Thank you" she spoke softly, her heart rate rising.

"Like I told Ellie, I am glad I got caught in that trap" Joel smiled in a loving way.

Seeing his smile, Beth folded immediately, her right hand softly caressing his beard, "Me too."

Joel slowly looked into her eyes, giving her such a wonderful sight of puppy eyes as he placed his rough calloused hand over her own. "You're happy that I got caught?"

"Yeah, I am" Beth giggled, pulling her hand away and blushing madly, unsure of what to do next.

Joel, noticing her shyness, slowly cupped her cheek, glancing down at her lips and then back up at her eyes. "Can I?" he asked in such a rough masculine voice.

Beth, feeling so submissive and weak, nodded to his request. Joel then leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. What was this feeling, it felt strange, it felt like I was in heaven! What do I do!

"Ah" Joel breathed out as he pulled away from the kiss and pushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear.

"Joel~"

[astro-can]

why i love shinobu and why you should too

its in the title.

lets start. this is directed to all shinobu haters and no i will not say this politely.

! SPOILER ALERT !

mfs be like "i hate shinobu because she's all ara ara and she bullies giyuu 🥸" do you have ANY OTHER VALID REASON???

you guys think shinobu bullies giyuu? ok then, where's the sanemi slander? where's the obanai slander? shinobu is the only one who actually makes an EFFORT to TALK to giyuu because he's all lonely and stuff and the things she says are her just teasing him, while sanemi and obanai out there telling giyuu to close his mtherfcking mouth and quit the demonslayer corps 😀 shinobu's canon impression of giyuu is a simple "he should talk more" while sanemi and obanai's impressions are "he's so fucking annoying and ugh and shit"

giyuu's impression of shinobu is "she talks to me often. she's earnest and hardworking. she looks unwell at times." he def knows that she's just teasing him and although he may be a lil oblivious he doesn't take her words to heart. but FANON shinobu is all "oh you should jump off a climp tomioka-san *insert high laughter here*"

also, is what she says WRONG? she says "you have no friends, you're so lonely" bc its true. my bro gotta make more friends. she's trying to make him open up to his fellow hashira more.

i was on pinterest and saw a whisper that said "idk why yall hate on shinobu, she's literally such a well-written character" and i was like YES PREACH but there was this one comment that said,

"she left kanao and aoi. what was she thinking about drinking all that poison? after getting killed, she left douma to kanao and kanao would've been killed if it weren't for inosuke. she was so driven by revenge that she lost sight of the people that are still in her life, like the butterfly mansion girls, etc etc. and kanao and inosuke aren't even strong enough to kill douma, it was just for plot armour."

be quiet. shinobu drank that poison to assist kanao in killing douma. kanao went along with the plan, and she was fully aware that she had to fight douma for as long as she could until shinobu's poison came into effect. kanao and inosuke together are most definitely strong enough to take on an upper moon demon, though they would've been killed if it wasn't for shinobu's poison. shinobu was HELPING THEM. if shinobu hadn't sacrificed herself, inosuke and kanao would've died, douma would've lived and prob killed the other butterfly mansion girls, and most importantly, tanjiro would've permanently become a demon bc kanao wouldn't have been here to inject the drug into him. shinobu sacrificed herself for the sake of the people that she cared about. the butterfly mansion girls were def sad at her death, but keep in mind that shinobu played a pivotal role in the destruction of demons and kanao and inosuke would not be alive if it weren't for her.

"she's always smiling, it's so annoying"

"lol shinobu can't even get over kanae's death, what a loser"

people who say that obviously don't know what happened to her in the past. her sister was killed by douma, and before she died, kanae had told shinobu "i wish you would smile more often, your smile is beautiful". after kanae's death, shinobu always wore a smile so that her juniors and the butterfly mansion girls would've had to worry about her. she's in a near-constant state of anger, but she masks it all behind a smile. you think its annoying? you think its easy to get over your only family's death? you think she's a loser for only wanting the best for her juniors? well, congratulations, you are certified as the most stupid person to exist. you try having to live through the death of your beloved parents, sister, and juniors. if you don't love your family then imagine someone you care for the most getting killed. do you think you could always have a smile on your face after that? shinobu isn't strong physically but she sure does have the strength to not crumble under pressure and sadness.

shinobu is a very well written character and i respect the author of kny for creating her. if you're going to hate her for no valid reason, i suggest you think again.

thank you for coming to my ted talk and stay tuned for my next tumblr post: why i think tanjiro is the best mc and why you should too

[aquateenpatrolsomethingshowshow]

ok so i dont feel like doing a full on review of the new episode so im just gonna make bullet points of the high lights and things that stuck out to me lmao

((contents spoilers below))

• still love that intro its so fucking awesome

• still loving the upgraded animation its so fluent and beautiful but still maintains that classic “aqua teen” look

• ok but shake is kinda hot in that outfit ngl

• shake looks like literally every millennial in my town and especially the ones that go to the coffee shops in my area lol

• MEATWAD IN THE FUCKING HIGH CHAIR IM CRYING

• “its spelled with a g cuz disney owns it” 💀💀

• “hoverboard” and its the fucking roomba 💀

• this is literally clone high istg with the self aware roombas istg /j

• all the robots had little hands that kinda looked like shakes thats so cute

• his whole rant about drinking the cream had me dead

• “its an easy fix tanner” BFNFCFNGFVX bro has beef with tanner lmao

• “master shaken not stirred” ok but that cream work was fucking bad ass

• bro literally had robots write his movie for him thats literally what it felt like when i would be paired with ppl for school projects and i had to do all the work for them but they still take credit for it 😭💀🙄

• DAMN BRO chill out with the coffee

• “script title” thats so shake

• bro literally just called his characters “boy 1” and “boy 2” 😭😭

• “i dont drink coffee its makes me uhh..” IT MAKES YOU WHAT FRYLOCK?!?! • oh hi theres more robots

• MEATWAD HANGING OUT WITH THE ROBOTS THATS SO CUTE TWO OF MY FAV THINGS TOGETHER AND THE SIPPING AND SWIRLING THE COFFEE AROUND MOTIONS WERE SO CUTE TF

• “a relationship of a gummy bear and candy cane” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

• THE MICHAEL CAINE ROBOT IS SO CUTE I LOVE HIM HIS LITTLE GLASSES AND ACCENT I CANT

• “the movie” at carls 🙄🙄🙄

• MEATWAD COVERING HIS EYES CUZ HES NOT ALLOWED TO SEE THAT STUFF 🥺🥺🥺 ARE THEY TRYING TO MAKE ME GET EMOTIONAL OVER HIM?!?! /nm ((love the nod/continuity of meatwad not being able to see that type of stuff tho))

• MOVIE TIME

• WHY DOES THE MOVIE LOOK LIKE THOSE OLD QUIZNOS COMMERCIALS HELP YALL KNOW WHICH ONES I MEAN 💀💀💀

• LOOK AT MEATWAD HES SHIELDING HIS EYES AGAIN HES SO PRECIOUS I CANT

• “easy with the hands love” 💀💀💀 I LOVE THAT HE CALLS EVERYONE LOVE CUZ HES BRI’ISH

• WHERE DID FRYLOCK GET THE MONEY TO GET A LITERAL IPHONE FUCKING 15?! DAMN BRO

• NO WAY YALL THEY GOT A ROBOT OF THE GUY FROM THE WEAPON OF CHOICE MUSIC VIDEO 😱😱😱 ((/t ik its christopher walken lol))

• HOLY SHIT IS THAT MR FUCKING BUTLERTRON I CANT BELIEVE THEY PUT MR B FROM THE HIT SERIES CLONE HIGH IN ATHF 😱😱😱 /j

• “and michael richards” THE MICHAEL RICHARDS??? COSMO KRAMER MICHAEL RICHARDS?!?!

• “now i can make toast in another city” said no one ever AND BOI WHERE YOU GOING ANYWAY YOURE POOR

• HOW DARE YOU DENY THE BABEY BOY TOAST

• bro literally just killed all the robots 0s and 1s are like robot poison lol

• classic athf to just blow up the house lmao

• DAMN THAT LEAF TRANSITION WAS SO GOOD AND PRETTY

• “sticks and hicks” lmao

• it looks so peaceful up there kinda reminds me of that one og emma chamberlain video where her and her dad go to her grandparents house in the literal woods lmao

• “read some books, play some board games, make some s’mores” that sounds so cozy and im just picturing them all doing that and its so cute

• “no wifi? im going back to the robots” thats an honest to god mood

• IS THIS THE FUCKING TRANSFORMERS?! /j

AND SCENE

ngl the most recent episode wasnt the best out of the 3 so far tbh but it wasnt horrible probably give it like a 6 or 7 out of 10 i also like how they do the credits over the episode it gives them more of the episode to do but also ends in a way thats still very “aqua teen” if that makes sense

also wish they did more with them out in the country and like maybe doing something at a regular cabin instead of the robot in disguise ((which ik was the joke/point of how it ended)) but still that wouldve been really wholesome

[motelpearl]

star trek: picard spoilers /

I'm gonna keep updating this with my thoughts (making threads is one thing I kinda miss about twitter so this will have to do)

somehow troi & riker having a weird horse girl daughter makes perfect sense like she does so much of the stuff I did at that age (making up fake countries & languages, drawing really well for her age, running around in the bush with an archery toy)

when riker showed up at the end of season one LORD JESUS I COULDVE KISSED THE SCREEN

also elnor is my son I love him. AND FUCK Q

omfg I know the modern day is near-dystopian but seeing 2024 earth not only referenced but actually depicted so starkly in comparison to the near-utopian future in star trek is so fucking bleak like UGH CAN THE FUCKING VULCANS COME TEACH US SPACE COMMUNISM ALREADY. WHERE THE REPLICATION TECHNOLOGY AT

the rick & Morty reference DID NOT AGE WELL IN MANY WAYS UGH IM GENERALLY ENJOYING THIS SHOW BUT SOME OF THE WRITING IS SO REDDIT

I hate to say it but agnes & the borg queen are the most toxic yuri in the known universe

speaking of toxic yuri I knew nothing about seven of nine going into this cause I havent watched ds9 but I fucking love her like if she & raffi ever need a third......tsahaha

ALSO WHY IS CHRIS SO DUMB IN THE 2ND SEASON. YOU WILL NEVER FUCK.

THE WAY THE 2ND SEASON RETCONS TIMES ARROW FROM TNG & THAT EPISODE IN TNG WHERE PICARD SEES A VISION OF HIS MOM & SHES OLD AS FUCK & HAS GREY HAIR & A FRENCH ACCENT BOTHERS ME GREATLY. NOT TO BE THAT KIND OF NERD OR ANYTHING.

ok nevermind him having visions of her as an old lady is explained.....except the french accent

was data the only soong who wasnt a total dickhead

"sweet picard, your guilt must've saved planets by now, countless lives in trade for the one you couldn't" SCREAMS OF AGONY

romulan with red bloodshot eyes....RED?

QCARD DIVORCE ANNULMENT 🥳🥳

ok I guess chris DID fuck sorry I wasnt familiar with his game

wow I can't believe I watched the entirety if season 2 in one night tbh everything I've heard about this show from people whose opinions i generally trust has been that its (and I quote) "laughably bad" & like ruined all of TNG for them & I was honestly scared it would ruin it for me too cause tbh I became a trekkie when i was 9/10 & a lot of bad things were going on in my life at that point & star trek was one thing that always gave me happiness & then later I got into it again during like the deep quarantine where no one was leaving their houses at all & just about everyone around me got radicalized into racist far-right fearmongering qanon shit but the idea that someday humans will be able & intelligent enough not only to put aside our own differences but to be able to befriend alien species & those aliens being willing to help humanity at one of its lowest points & someday even if it doesnt happen in my own lifetime, that people can exist who genuinely care about the needs of many & actively work to better the lives of people throughout the universe instead of just giving in to individualism & cynicism & irony poisoning which is such an easy trap to fall into gave me so much hope for humanity like yall I'm literally getting choked up typing this & I never cry & I was kind of worried that this show would stomp on everything i loved about star trek but thankfully it hasnt so far (though to be fair I like a lot of objectively bad things I mean my favourite decade of fashion is the 70s so maybe this is just jingling the metaphorical keys at me)

CRUSHERRRRRR SEASON 3 COMING OUT THE GATES SWINGING (no pun intended but im not changing it now)

ENOUGH NEEDLE DROPS I HATE TO SAY IT BUT ITS GIVING STRANGER THINGS/THE MARIO MOVIE (THOUGH IN A SLIGHTLY LESS CRINGY NOSTALGIA BAIT WAY LIKE AT LEAST THIS ISN'T USING TOP 40 SHIT FROM THE 80S) & at least it's mostly non-diegetic bc I feel like diegetic music has more of a chance of being used tastelessly

british accent is stored in the balls

its gotta be worf or at least some klingon giving raffi orders right....who else would call someone a warrior

NOOOOO THE DE-AGING CGI OR WHATEVER IN S3 E3 ITS SO UNCANNY VALLEY it was surprisingly pretty good on data in s1 & q in s2 though......where did the budget go

why is old man worf kinda *starts coughing*

amanda plummer is so terrifying in every role I've seen her in like even in catching fire when she was a protagonist

also why do so many people victim blame picard for being assimilated by the borg it's not like he wanted to get assimilated & become the face of a massacre. the whole motto of the borg is "resistance is futile" like there was literally nothing he couldve done to prevent it

jack better prove himself QUICKLY cause other than his parentage I don't see anything that would inspire me to fight for his life

& then cthulu was born

goddamn the changelings make the borg look like a bunch of peace & love flower children. on that note on that note if picard assimilated beverly's reproductive system with some fucked up latent borg sperm i will be disappointed but not surprised cause what is up with jack's crazyass visions

BLESS RO BLESS WORF BLESS RAFFI

if I weren't worried I might miss something important I'd skip all the scenes where jack monologues about benign shit for no reason BOOOO GET OFF THE STAGE

JUMPIN JIMINY

WHY IS THIS LITERALLY A HORROR MOVIE honestly the concept of beings that can make themselves look & sound human has always been one of the things that scare me the most which is weird because all my life I've been compared to robots & aliens WHICH IS ONE OF THE REASONS WHY I LIKED STAR TREK SO MUCH IN THE FIRST PLACE BECAUSE I RELATED SO MUCH TO DATA so in theory I shouldnt be afraid of that because I'm in the same predicament & I can relate in many ways but I mean idk I guess theres a difference between feeling excluded & wanting to be the ones who exclude. my fear probably comes more from the idea of unwillingly walking into a trap thinking someone you trust was going to help you & then having to wonder "what happened to the real person?"

what I meant by that long ramble is: the tuvok scene........*shudders*

would it be for for best if the borg carried out one last forceful assimilation of the changelings......could they be trusted with that capability......*strokes chin pensively*

THEYRE DOING/WILL DO THE PICARD MANEUVER IM CALLING IT NOW ok wait heres my theory they do the picard maneuver -> it looks like theres another ship but it's just like a warp imprint or whatever -> vadic tries to beam aboard the fake ship & actually beams herself into space -> the main crew beam aboard the shrike & save riker & troi & possibly take the portal weapon -> beam back to the real ship & blow the shrike up while all the crew panic cause they just watched vadic explode in space

well.

BIG DADDY WORF COME TO LAY THE SMACK DOWN GOD BLESS GOD FUCKING BLESS BRUH IMAGINE YOUR FRIEND COMES TO BREAK YOU OUT OF DEATH ROW & IMMEDIATELY STARTS FLIRTING WITH YOUR WIFE IM FUCKING DEAD

GET DATA ON THE PHONE CAN THEY NOT DELETE LORE'S WHOLE FILES LIKE WHAT CAN HE POSSIBLY CONTRIBUTE TO ADVANCEMENT OF SOCIETY

nooooo data don't misgender spot

OOOOOOOH THEY ALMOST HAD ME THERE

THEY DID BLAST THEM INTO SPACE I WAS PARTIALLY RIGHT YEEEEEEHAW

wait. are the red door & the red lady the same thing

BORG PENIS I CALLED IT

what happened to the borg using their power for good....get agnes on the phone....

hooh I knew it was coming but....enterprise d my beloved

last episode prediction: picard will have to become locutus one last time to defeat the borg & whoever else

yknow right now would be a real great time for some q or some travellers/watchers to show up & do their thing. also imagine the insane drama of wesley crusher coming to talk his long lost brother out of becoming a fascist alien king

on that note i cant decide whether assimilation is a metaphor for fascism, addiction, sexual assault, stds, something else I haven't considered, or is just a wild crazy non-allegorical concept of the kinds of things that might exist in space

JUPITER IS NOT CLASS M

one thing that keeps catching me off guard & then making me laugh is how patrick stewart's high rp shakespearean accent has slightly waned over the years so I'll sometimes be like "why did picard sound like paul mccartney there" & then I remember that patrick stewart is actually northern (yes yes i know yorkshire & liverpool are two different places but the uk is so minuscule by canadian standards that they might as well be the same and no one outside the uk can tell the difference between the accents so dont lecture me) <- yes unfortunately I'm the laziest kind of linguistics nerd as well I'm honestly just exposing myself as annoying in this post

let me guess jack is the beacon & they have to kill him

did they clone locutus

GOD I FUCKING LOVE DATA

I love troi too like when the writing gives her a chance to be shes literally so smart & so aware & in tune with everything like she's such an asset to the crew but it's rare we get to see that in action

I'm getting too good at predicting things

well now that I've finished it I can say I really dont know why I saw so much hate for it like maybe I've just operated in weird spaces of the internet but I mean I really dont see what there is to outright hate about it (I mean early on some of the characters felt very stilted like agnes in the first season was just yapping & was giving millenial cringe to the highest degree but I think by the 2nd season she redeemed herself but then was that even canon considering the 3rd season? idk I definitely have criticisms but I wouldn't call it "laughably bad" & it definitely hasnt forever ruined my view of star trek thank god)

sigh I just love these characters yall. if that's key jingling then put my ass in the crib

also I'm just going through all the seasons of tng & watching my favorite episodes & some random ones & it makes me laugh so hard when they show picard wearing anything other than his uniform cause he's always just in the sluttiest outfits ever 😭 they had patrick stewart running around in a v-neck & booty shorts

gah the best of both worlds part 1 & 2 + family work so well as like a trilogy but they're also such heartbreaking episodes like borg assimilation is one of those things that just becomes increasingly unrelentingly more & more horrifying the more you think about it & the scenario of those episodes would literally be so terrifying for anyone involved like beverly seeing the guy she's sort of in love with become the face of this genocidal fascist species but then her son is on board the enterprise & just watched his mom be sent on an away team where it was possible she might not come back or worse & also wesley having to see picard be the face of the borg & probably feeling like he just lost another father figure & like it would literally have no good outcomes for anyone cause even the borg don't want to be borg but it was forced upon them

on that note I kind of have a headcanon that the borg would have originated from like, a super technologically advanced planet's military putting cybernetic implants in all their soldiers for efficiency so they could have a hive mind & think as one & coordinate seamlessly & always be up to date on what other sectors of the military were doing & then deciding that instead of killing their enemies, they would forcibly conscript them into the military by assimilating them & by doing this they eventually took over whichever planet they originated on. eventually this wasn't enough for them so they started traveling the universe & assimilating whole planets & that's how it came to the point we see in tng & beyond

sigh they really wrote the episode hero worship for all us little weird kids who connected to data didnt they

if they really wanted to give geordi a romance with someone they couldve tried to put him with ro laren bc their dynamic in the next phase was so cute like his outgoing-ness + her aloofness & how he sort of brought her out of her shell in that episode UGH walk with me. or they couldve just made him gay which they were apparently considering but decided against? idk but I mean the man literally orders an ice coffee in the same episode where he falls in love with a girl just by watching her vlogs. how did they preemptively stereotype him before the stereotype of gay people loving ice coffee even existed (I jest) but like ugh ANYTHING EXCEPT THE PARASOCIAL INCEL SHIT THEY ALWAYS PUT HIM INTO & THEN IN THE VERY LAST EPISODE THEY SAY HE'S MARRIED TO LEAH BRAHMS LIKE NO. PLEASE. JUSTICE FOR GEORDI. END THE CHARACTER ASSASSINATION. but the future in that episode isnt even canon & thankfully in picard they never outright say who he had kids with so like in my mind they are not the product of reply-guy-ification but a normal relationship (also justice for leah brahms & whoever she was married to.) idk why i even feel so strongly about this. I guess maybe because geordi is otherwise such a good character & the very concept of him is so ahead of its time & obviously characters need to have flaws but did it have to be Those kinds of flaws specifically </3

also cardassians should not have hair idc I know people think bald aliens are too cliche but what business do reptilians have with hair how would that even evolve

[dollfaceksj]

Wait, was Taste of Poison Paradise already in the works? I didn’t see that on your pinned post.

no ! so i talked about how i have a lot of ideas but nooo time to sit down and write them. i saw someone write a drabble series like that and it seemed rlly quick and fun and just a bit unserious you know? so i was like bet lemme ask if yall would like that

then an anon sent me an idea to try out in that style and thats what you’re seeing now. it significantly takes a lot of time off my hands and it doesnt hinder my progress w other works bc of how easy and quick one ‘part’ is written. it looks like like a draft for a plot instead of an actually drabble? but it still gets the point across

im also not going to be adding it to the pinned post because there is no progress for it. i get asked to add a part and i write it in like 10 minutes and upload it. that’s how easy it is basically

i hope u like it

[heeee-hoooo]

SAGAU: 4 More or Less Pt 3

Warning: swear words, two trucks by lemon demon is mentioned

Reverse isekai time yall!!!!

Characters: Fischl, Bennett, Noelle

• ================================== •

to be honest, you’re a lot less surprised than you were expecting

‘characters from your favorite franchise pop out of the game/show/movie and into the real world, hijinks ensue’…

.. you feel like you’ve read this before

your friends? unsurprisingly not as chill as you

“SOMEONE SLAP ME I MUST BE DREAMING” “gladly—” “____ don’t.”

Fischl

depending on who’s the most into roleplay or dnd, they’d be the closest to Fischl

ya’ll this girl would absolutely love larping and cosplay

I imagine she’d first find out about it when you and your friends get ready for a cosplay and dnd convention (which I plan on writing properly)

“Oh great creators, I request thou may give thy Prinzessin more of this bubble te- Uhm.. am I interrupting something?”

they’d, of course, bring her along and tell her alllll about it

and lemme tell you, first day of the con, she’s already hooked

and within days, lo and behold! she becomes a regular cosplayer and the resident tumblr girl

you might wanna save up a bit more for tickets

Bennett

right off the bat, you hear a plate break in the kitchen

most of you rush to see what happened

aaand Bennett is frantically trying to sweep all of it out of the way while apologizing

ofc, you can’t be m a d at him

so u just help him bring the bowls to Noelle so she can make her pancakes :D

he’d be a bit bummed out bcuz of the lack of adventuring areas

I imagine he’d like korean bbq tho

whether you decide you all go out to eat, or you decide to make the food at home, he’d absolutely love how easy it was to cook it himself!

even with a few burns here or there, he’d still rate it at least 8/10

don’t give him any soy sauces with chilis tho

his absolute favorite thing though? online rpgs ofc

adventuring entirely other worlds??? without any hurt????? sign this precious boy up!

all in moderation ofc, he still loves exploring irl

I imagine he’d think of it as a break from the hurt

he always runs out of stamina tho :(

Noelle

SWEET BABY NOELLE—

she would try to do everything for you

laundry, cooking, cleaning, you name it

“as a token of gratitude for letting them stay” she’d say

she’d be amazed by the washing machine, lets be honest (aren’t we all to an extent??)

I feel like she’d always cook breakfast and some snacks, but that’s about it

anything else and she’d give ya’ll food poisoning /lh

but like, make sure to let her rest every once in a while, y’know?

bby needs her R&R

• ================================== •

Tags

@simpagettits (sadly it wouldnt load ur user 😔) @shizunxie

[babyharleezy]

Jack gets food poisoning on the road and he’s panicking because he doesn’t want to cancel the show. Comfort? Fluff??

reschedule

(jack harlow x reader)

bloo's notes: hi guys, i thought this was a super cute concept and i hope yall like it. enjoy my loves!!

it was about 1 pm and the show started at 7 pm. you had sent jack back to the tour bus because he had a headache, that was about two hours ago. you insisted that he had a nap before he had to do soundcheck.

you made your way to the tour bus to check on your lovely boyfriend. as you made your way further into the bus you could hear him emptying his stomach out into the toilet bowl. "jack baby are you alright?" you called out just as you made your way to the bathroom. you saw his face halfway into the toilet bowl. you heard him groan. "yeah im okay y/n don't worry about me, i gotta head to soundcheck" he tried to say but before he could say anymore he began throwing up once again.

"jack i do not care, you aren't feeling good so you aren't gonna perform. i'm gonna talk to neelam. i'll see if she can reschedule the show" you argued with the stubborn kentuckian. "but y/n i feel fine. i can do the show" he tried arguing back but you weren't having it. you walked up to him and moved his hair out of his face. "baby i want you to be healthy and happy when you perform, we'll change the dates up. your supporters will understand. until then we can just watch movies while i take care of you" you said to jack in hopes it would cheer him up. he didn't wanna let his supporters down but he knew you were right. he didn't argue with you anymore.

time passed by and he was still throwing up and you felt horrible, you wished you could do more to help him. "here baby have some ginger ale, it'll help with the nausea" you said to him as you offered him a can of ginger ale. "thank you baby for taking care of me" jack said to you with a weak voice. you smiled at him sadly, you hated that he had to deal with this. you felt bad that he had to cancel his show. but you knew that this was his bodies way of telling him to take a break and stop working himself so hard. you knew he needed to rest.

his fever began kicking in and that's when you decided to give him tylenol in hopes of breaking his fever. "here baby take two of these and try to sleep it off" you told him and he happily obliged.

as he slept next to you, you couldn't help but think how lucky you were to have him in your life. you wouldn't wanna take care of anyone other than jack harlow himself for the rest of your life.

it was 10 am when jack woke up the next day. he rolled over on his side to see you wide awake. "good morning baby how you feelin" you asked him and kissed his forehead. you two were instantly holding each other in each others arms. you noticed that his fever went down from the day before. "hmm i'm feeling a lot better from yesterday. i feel so much fucking better thanks to you baby" he said as he squeezed you closer to him. "thank you for taking care of me, i couldn't have done it without you. i'm glad you convinced me to take yesterday off." he continued. "i'm glad you got some rest pretty boy. just take it easy today because you might still feel weak these next few days and make sure you drink plenty of liquids jack" you told him as you emphasized the last part. "hmm so sexy when you be telling me what to do and shit" he laughed. you jokingly rolled your eyes at him and got ready for the day.

"i love you y/n" he called out.

"i love you too jackman" you hollered back

[crovoroh]

Gosh, so i read Runaway Max, and before i get into my book report this shit aint canon, it says its an official novel but im taking that with a grain of salt cause the cali backstory timeline doesnt match st3. But this book had so many moment where i was like oh man are they gonna go in depth with the child abuse at Billy AND Max by Neil?? And they just side stepped that narration everytime it came up. Also if i took a shot every time the author called Billy dangerous id get alcohol poisoning. I know its told from the point of view of Max but come on, you can be smarter then this. Anyways this is gonna be long and rambly probably

I just cant get over how many times this story touched base on not just telling but showing litteral child abuse and side stepped it each time, i guess the show does that too tho oop for starters fuck Neil, and also fuck Susan. If i was out on a family dinner and some man i knew for a couple months reprimanded my child for not calling him father, hed be the one being sent away from the dinner table not my child and it makes me so mad and sad that there are actually parents out there who are like that. Your gonna send MY daughter to the car for disrespecting you?? Great, im leaving with her. See you never.

Billy left the reasteraunt to talk to Max at the car and just, look. Let them bond over this awful man being awful. This to me read as Billy making an attempt to warn or maybe protect Max and its just left right here in that paragraph. It makes me so sad any possible understanding between the two starts and stops there. I know this is told from Max's point of view but its very obvious the author made up their mind on how one dimensional they think Billy is. Which is wild casue they kept pointing out signs of abuse in him, like prior to this car moment we have Max having this observation

Or this one

My guy is out right dissociating, hyper aware of his surroundings and unpredictable moods is a damn trauma response. From the words of my dear friend "you wrote a beautifully wrecked character, dont throw that thing out and teach everyone to do the same" also this aint canon but max thinks Billy is fun sometimes and that has me so soft.

And then this entire last scene in the book with billy is just, so fucking tone deaf. "he was damaged. Broken, maybe" yall i thought we were going somewhere with that but nope, im the fool for believing an abused traumatized character would get properly acknowledged but it was a big "hes just like his dad so he'll never be good and also hes worse then his dad, hes crazy" and im foaming at the mouth.

This author is such a billy anti, i think st4 took notes from her for how to represent Billy. I know its all told from Max, a 12 year old whos just sharing her feelings and observations but so much of this was just. Hhhhhh exhausting.

It wouldve been so easy to have Billy zone out and dissociate with the burning cat instead of forcing him to laugh and act insane (also if you think lighting a dead animal on fire is the making of a sociopath have you never been outside as a kid and found something dead and just, fucked with it. Its dead, i think lighting a dead animal on fire is probably the most tame tampering you could do. Not to call myself out but when i was maybe 8 i found a dead toad and i wanted to know what its skeleton looked like and how it decomposed so i took it apart. Kids are bizarre and teen boys are kinda destructive.

The whole scene with billy coming home halloween night and getting beat was upsetting and how it was never mentioned again was infuriating. Him getting attacked by Neil, punched several time getting a black eye and bloodied lip then beaten with a fucking belt. How do you just willingly write that shit then turn around and go "oh yeah nah this 17 year old who ive just said was verbally and physically abused multiple times is a dangerous monster who doesnt deserve sympathy". Im over it, if aang can put aside a century long fued to help his abused enemy who in turn still chased him off but was redeemed in the end then Billy and Max have the stepping stones to do the same, have max put an ice pack down, let billy Sort himself out, its so easily im going insane

And that bullyshit narrative of saying Neil is racist and how Billy probably is too. fuck that, i cant speak for the racism but when i made my first trans friend i was nervous about having them at the house cause i wasnt sure how my family would react or treat my friend so i opted to keep her away too, my situation was more tame then Max, Billy and Lucas' and my family turned out to not be transphobic so it was fine but im gonna self project that Billy was just manic and worried about Max hanging with a black kid and what Neil would do to lucas and max if he saw them. Seeing as how the man got away with denying Max dinner right infront of Susan who did nothing. But also max says how shes not like her parents so its just unfair to turn around and go neil is awful so billy is also awful and wont ever get better

This book isnt canon but i want a similar book from Billy's point of view. But also all things considered i did like the insight into Max's possibly past in cali, her relationship with her dad and mom was pretty neat, even tho, say it with me, its not canon, i refuse, I'll believe in bigfoot before believing this book was proof read by anyone working on the actual show 🥴 i have more to say but its 2 in the morning and i think my eyes are leaking outa my skull, hope this incoherent lmaoo

[babygirlwolverine]

honestly so grateful to have a couple days off of work because I really need a couple days to deal with everything. this week has been A Lot and I hate putting crap things on tumblr but… I’m usually really honest with yall about my life and about the things im going through. so. with that being said. my grandfather passed away on sunday. my mum is absolutely heartbroken. he’s had cancer for a couple years now and he fought hard, but in the end he just couldn’t fight anymore. we were all supposed to be flying out next weekend to see him, but when we heard news that he was getting rapidly worse, my parents arranged flights for just the two of them to fly out monday this week to see him. he passed away 14 hours before my parents could get back to england. I’ve been doing everything I can to be the rock for my parents. then on top of that my sister got sick with food poisoning so I was taking care of her too. and when I kindly asked to leave work early on Sunday due to hearing the devastating news, the doctors let me leave early but the next day they told me I had to make up the hours I missed (instead of being empathetic and just letting the 4 hours I missed slide because I needed to be home with my parents before they left for England due to grieving the loss of my grandfather).

this week had been a lot. and I’ve tried my best to keep it together. but it’s not always easy to hide behind my bubbly happy exterior that I normally have. I’ve tried to distract myself from the pain. but it’s hard. my family is small. we haven’t lost a family member in 17 years (my grandmother passed when I was 8 and we haven’t had any loss since then). so this is the first time (other than saying goodbye to my oldest dog during the pandemic) that I’m dealing with loss.

this got really long. I’m sorry for posting about this. I just needed y’all to know; to understand why I’ve had such a tough week and why I haven’t been acting like myself.

anyway, I love yall.

my grandfather really liked cats. and flowers. his garden was his favorite thing. so y’all don’t have to reply to this post but if you want to say something just some lovely flower things or cats for his memory would be beautiful.

thanks yall

[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?