#> awful person with a platform is exposed for being awful

[bluinary]

Reblogging this before everyone hops on the "you should've known better" train

I'm convinced I have the worst vibes detector of all time. I used to be a fan of Creepshow Art, iilluminaughtii, and James Somerton- all high-profile creators who got their careers tanked because they're bad people. Given the absolutely huge number of creators I subscribe to it's not surprising that this has happened multiple times, but still.

Then again, when I expressed this sentiment in the past and kicked myself for not being more aware of the red flags, someone told me that means I just want to see the good in people and am more willing to forgive faults than others are. I think that's spot-on tbh; I'm a very naive and forgiving person, which has often been taken advantage of. But it's just my nature, I can't help it.

This will inevitably happen to me again, but I'd rather not beat myself up over not constantly being attuned to every red flag people give off.

[gaykarstaagforever]

Well if I'm going to use stupidass TikTok, I should find out what all the weird baby straights and soon-to-be-divorced tradwives are up to over there.

Today we learn about the "Clean Girl Aesthetic".

Near as I can tell, it basically means not looking or dressing like some kind of dumpster clown.

And there's a fascination with pleated slacks or shorts and exposed belly buttons.

Doubtless this is mimicking some lady all these people have seen on their TVs. Taylor Swift? Another lady? Who can say? Not me, because Taylor Swift is the only lady I know of.

I'm old enough to remember the predecessor of this style as a kind of late 80s / early 90s Yacht Club thing that was popular with movie bullies and other people no one liked. I'm sure it has a History of Fashion name but I'm not looking it up, because Google already doesn't know who the hell I am or what the hell to sell me. I know it was very polo-shirt heavy back then. Big pockets. Beiges and greys and muted colors, probably because the POOR PEOPLE were all dressing like dumpster clowns:

But I looked up the Clean Girl thing to see exactly what probably-AI says it is:

...So it is literally about not being dirty? Isn't all fashion, inherently? Was there a trend that was wearing filth recently? Filthcore? Dumpster clown?

Well yeah, the midriff thing. But again, isn't all fashion inherently fatphobic? That's still bad, but kind of a universal in the world of people being dicks to other people about how everyone looks. The TRUE SOUL of fashion.

And that's not a new thing. Or is the Clean Girl thing especially virulently anti-fatty? Like to be a Clean Girl, you have to drive at least one fat person to contemplate suicide a month?

I mean that's awful, but TikTok is a lot of teenagers with stupid hair. I wouldn't put this past them. They're horrible little idiots. Look at their hair!

...Wait so you guys are doing "brown = dirty"? In 2024? What Gulf Coast cave did you people crawl out of after a 150-year Rip Van Winkle nap? The War Between the States is over, and your side lost. How did you figure out TikTok so fast, displaced temporal stranger?

Can't we all just shut up and wear pants?

As for the stealing thing, white people have been stealing and recreating the things they stole from POCs, then excluding them from those versions of those things, for as long as there have been white people.

It's bad, but as it is our primary cultural trait, we're certainly never going to stop.

Especially not those hibernating cave people. They probably still think "the Curse of Ham" is a justifiable legal defense.

This is what Clean Girl looks like, in case you too want to dress like someone whose dad mismanages a major streaming platform:

(I don't know who this model is. The picture is from a half-broken aggregator website in Foreign.)

[icaruspendragon]

i think the most unexpected part of being a content creator has been just how much parasocial relationships warped my perspective.

like i knew sharing parts of my life with strangers on the internet would mean that even if they didn’t feel like i was a stranger to them, they were all still strangers to me.

and i share more parts of myself online than most. so lots of these people really do know so many things about me, and because of that, sometimes i forget they’re strangers who don’t actually know me.

like someone will leave a comment that i think is funny so i share it with my groupchat and they’ll be like, “berklie, this is actually a really weird thing for a stranger to say to you.” and my response is almost always “oh. 🧍🏻‍♂️”

it’s like i’ve gotten desensitized to people saying what most would consider out of pocket stuff to me. or maybe my threshold for what i consider out of pocket is higher than it should be.

i’m incredibly fortunate in that 99% of what’s said to me is lovely and respectful and that the vast majority of my audience treats me with kindness.

there’s so much talk about people having parasocial relationships, but no one really talks about what it’s like to be on the receiving end of those relationships. and like i know that no one is making me put myself out there like this, that it’s a choice i willingly make.

and i’ve been on the internet for 13 years now, which is literally half my life. i know what it’s like.

i was on this site in 2012 and fanfic.net in 2011. i know how awful and vile anonymity makes some folks get, but there’s a purgatory-esque space i didn’t know existed. and that space is where people aren’t mean, but they aren’t exactly nice, either. they’re weird. and not in a fun way. they’re invasive. and i’ve been exposed to it for so long i only notice when it’s extreme.

and if you follow me and you read this and are thinking, oh god. is she talking about me? the answer is no, i’m not.

i have lots of folks, especially those who comment/interact frequently, that i think of as my “regulars.” these are people i recognize and even go so far as to think about outside of whatever platform i’m posting on. and even if they don’t interact with my content super frequently, i recognize these users. i remember a lot more about people than folks might think.

these people aren’t the problem.

it’s the people who see i’m a person but forget that i’m human, if that makes sense. like of course people objectively know i’m a person. but i think sometimes they forget i’m human. and that i can read. and that i have feelings.

there have been several times where i called someone out for saying inappropriate shit to me and their response has been, “i’m so sorry. i didn’t think you’d see it.”

but i do see it. even if i don’t publicly acknowledge it, i see everything.

i think some people think just because they see more of me that i can’t see any of them. but i do.

so please, please remember i may just be a person that lives in your phone to you, but i’m a human who lives outside of it, too.

regardless of familiarity, i deserve to be treated like i have an existence outside of people’s screens. because i do.

despite appearances or perspective, at the end of the day, i’m just like you.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The world was far too quiet, the air too heavy, the scrutiny unbearable. Link stood in the center of the atrium, sunlight cascading through stained glass, images of Hyrule’s history painted on his body. He knew he carried that history, that he’d already added to it, borne the burden of destiny, yet here he was, surrounded by onlookers awaiting him to take up the mantle once more.

The Master Sword stood patiently, waiting in the pedestal he’d thrust it into many years ago. The Queen of Hyrule stood ahead of him, on an elevated platform above everyone else, her daughter in front of her, hands over her heart, hope and anticipation in her eyes.

Link swallowed, feeling his heart race. He hated how terrified he felt. He hated how his stomach betrayed him, how his chest clenched, how he felt sick and pathetic. He wasn’t even sure he’d felt this bad when he’d first drawn the blade.

He was certainly no Hero. Not anymore.

But destiny was calling. He hated it. He hated it. He’d tried so hard to avoid this, yet here he was, being gawked at by the powerful people of Hyrule, once again in the spotlight as the goddesses themselves exposed him to the world.

Slowly, he reached for the hilt with his left hand. There was no point in arguing anymore. He’d dug his heels in for as long as he could. He just needed to take the plunge, right? His hand felt warm against the worn leather that bound itself around the hilt, generations of heroes having scuffed their calloused skin against it. He could sense the history to the item, his magic responding to the divine power inside the blade.

I don’t want to do this, he whispered, begged to the sword. He could hear the spirit’s quiet song in reply, a voice that he couldn’t decipher but always knew was there, mysterious and otherworldly, attracting him and holding him close in comfort and protection. His gaze moved upward to the royal family once more, and he caught sight of the princess.

And the person standing beside her.

His mind buzzed, a different kind of anxiety playing with his heart, and he sighed. The spirit of the sword sang again.

Shame filled him. But wisdom shone truer, burning with humility and grace, recognizing what was needed.

He knew he couldn’t do this.

His index finger extended from the hilt, pointing to the young Gerudo man beside the princess. The masseur jumped a little, mildly startled, eyes widening. He glanced around uncertainly, seeming to be one of the few who noticed the gesture, and then pointed to himself, mouthing, Me?

Link nodded a little, wiggling his finger to beckon him over. The Gerudo came carefully, and a whisper started to hiss around the atrium. When the princess’ friend reached Link, the former Hero quietly said, “My right arm is still injured. It takes two hands to pull this blade from its pedestal.”

The Gerudo stiffened, even more anxious. “But—I’m a Gerudo. We all know what happens with my kind in this cycle. I shouldn’t even be here.”

“I need your help,” Link insisted gently, feeling in his heart that this was the right move, even if it hurt. “Please.”

The Gerudo teenager was nothing if not compassionate, despite his worries and sarcasm, and so he sighed, taken in by Link’s soft petition. Slowly, his right hand twisted around the hilt, fingers brushing against Link’s own. The two watched each other silently, waiting for the other, before Link nodded again, and together, they drew the Blade of Evil’s Bane.

The instant the sword left its pedestal, Link let go.

The force of the move left his Gerudo companion stumbling a moment as the sword flew into the air, held by his right hand, held high and proud as it sang.

The Gerudo looked at him, terrified. “What—you—”

Link smiled.

He didn’t need to speak. They both knew what this meant. The queen rose from her seat, Princess Zelda had her hands over her mouth in awe, and the crowd was frozen. Link took a step away, leaving the new Hero to his fate, feeling like he’d sentenced him, but knowing in his heart that this was the right decision.

In a world of child heroes, a grown man was not needed. Somehow, he was already too old. He just wanted to fade away. He had nothing more to give to Hyrule.

The kids would be alright. He knew, as the blessing of Nayru glowed on his hand, that he was right.

[adarlingmess]

Darling's Diary: A much needed vent

I am not surprised at all that lorroakan/Mike/Ari who accused me of being racist got outed as one, bonjeacon/Peak/Jojo who cropped my convo with Andrew Wincott to make me look parasocial got outed as parasocial himself, and helluvareceipts who spread said screenshots got outed as a p3do enabler. More often than not these people are projecting their own flaws or inventing them in others in order to rid themselves of their own shame. With these new revelations I hope everyone will take what they say will be taken with mounds of salt from this moment on.

And the more I read about helluvareceipts, their clique's serial harassment, and how they helped destroy Ang Vondra's livelihood, the more disgusted I am. They did the same thing with me by circulating those cropped screenshots and the backlash almost made me end my own life. helluvareceipts is not even a fucking part of BG3twt or the fandom in general but they're known moots with BG3twt's most notorious serial harassers. Somehow they gained access to my private messages to maliciously crop them, take them out of context, and even manipulate them. I know it's Peak who sent them too, because he's one of the few people I shared screenshots of my messages, and he's the only one who had a motive against me.

I lost clients, was booted from communities and I'm now in a financial crisis + on the verge of being homeless due to my inability to pay rent. All this damage against their victims in the name of internet clout. I am fucking appalled. I will never forgive BG3twt's serial harassers for accusing users they wanted to harass off the platform of unsavory shit when all along they've mutuals with helluvareceipts who enabled and supported actual p3dophile Kyle Carrozza's abuse.

"b-but HR called out Kyle when he was exposed as one-" Don't you fucking get it? It's the rabid smear campaign and misinformation that destroyed Ang Vondra while the actual p3do got away scot-free for YEARS. It's your mob mentality that destroyed real lives over made up BS. All things considered, e.g. hate mail, people making a meme out of my conversations, being blacklisted in communities I was welcome in, I handled what everyone did to me with grace. Now I'm extra pissed off seeing how there are more victims that suffered and they had it WORSE.

So now that helluvareceipts got exposed for spreading false testimonies from Jane Amber to smear Ang Vondra, can people start seeing that the cropped screenshots they acquired from Peak that they spread is another attempt at a smear campaign?

I am contemplating publishing conversations I had with AW to dispel all accusations once and for all. If it didn't expose things he asked me to keep private such as a voicenote he sent me on my birthday, and personal information such as his complete DOB I would've done it from the get go. Plus, I've seen how some of the serial harassers reacted to the information of him asking for NSFW art from me and him dismissing my former client's concerns. They'll tear this man apart and for some damn reason my (possibly misplaced) sense of loyalty doesn't want to see that.

Whether or not I will set the record straight regarding the allegations against me once and for all is still something I'm unsure of. My mental health is on the mend after being nearly driven to suicide by the non-stop harassment, and I don't want to risk the progress that I made on myself.

Aside from venting there's nothing much I can do but wait, really. I didn't even have to lift a finger for people to uncover the truth about my accusers, I was busy trying not to off myself. Perhaps the truth about it will come out one day too.

[opinated-user]

https:/ / archive. ph/ svv67

archive for lily telling britt to unalive herself.

thank you, anon! you're a real one!

reading through this, i have no doubt in my mind that LO send that to herself just to have an excuse to try to one up Brittany... even though Brittany has her own blog to do that on her own space. which brings the question, LO, if you have anything specific to say about anything we claim, what exactly is stopping you from just screenshotting those pots and respond to them directly instead of this weird "anon brought me this thing you say and therefore i get to rant about it while pretending i had nothing to do with how this information came to me" you do? just about in general, you comes off less trustworthy because of this because nobody is actually seeing what you're reacting to. you can make all the angry anons you want. doesn't mean that people are going to actually believe that is Brittany. anyway, there are some point in the response of LO that i want to talk about for a second.

so, sincerely speaking? from my bottom of my heart, hypothetically, if LO was actually a ghost writer and she was earning enough for a comfortable living, enough that she can drop youtube entirely, i'd be honestly happy for her. i'd prefer that she became a full time ghost writer than a youtuber, because you can't groom people with ghost writing gigs. you can't form an audience around being a ghost writer, only inside clients who need your services, who are all pressumably going to be adults in the first place. whatever bigotry or misinformation you spread on that job comes from what a clent asked of you, not from you having horrible opinions about issues that either don't affect you or you don't actually care about or generally being an awful person. because the thing that LO is missing is that nobody is trying to deplatform her because. we want to do that and encourage people to not give her views ever, no matter what kind of video she's making about what topic (which is why my pinned post will always be resources for people to avoid going to give her clicks), not because we want her to become homeless and struggle to have her basic needs met. we know that it's not going to happen anyway because she's daddy's girl and will always count with his money when this youtuber thing completely fails for her, but even if that wasn't a factor, nobody is aiming for that. we want to deplatform LO because she has actively used her platform to abuse, hurt and traumatize people. i'm not talking about her bad takes on anime or show or animation or anything she claims we have an issue with. i'm talking about the way she has groomed people, used her money to make vulnerable people do things they wouldn't otherwise, exposed minors to think they shouldn't have been exposed to by a trusted adult and spread outright lies to defend rapist or other dangerous people because it was convenient for her narrative. we want LO to not be watched anymore by anyone because she has shown, time and time again, that she'll never try to not hurt someone the moment she has a chance for it. because as long she gets views, has subscribers and has any level of influence, she's still a danger.

i'm sure that the Brittany hivemind agrees with all of this as well. so no, LO, you had it all wrong. if you had a job outside of youtube or any social media, we'd love that for you. if anything, we'd encourage it so much more than keep creating bad essays in video form. but we both know that it's not true and you told us that yourself without realizing. so we have to call out the obvious lie you naively expect people to just take.

literally the first result in google search when you type "do ghost writer write fiction":

the second one:

who is the one who looks like they have no idea how this industry works? (although, if i want to get extra petty here, another reason why people can have reasonable doubt about your ghost writing job, beyond the fact that we have evidence of the many lies you tell on a regular basis... a ghost writer by definition has to know to be versatile and write on an more than acceptable level, if not being also good for the editing. LO, you don't even edit your own scripts. you record them in the first draft. your writing style is terrible, both in a grammar sense as an stylistic sense. so you mean to tell me that for your fanfiction, videos, posts, and everything to do with your name, you make zero effort into making it look decent and reserve all your hidden abilities for... writting for crappy apps? oh and flavor text on some unnamed RPG? seriously? how is anyone supposed to believe that?) anyway, the relevant portion is this:

LO, you're a despicable horrible human being. every ounce of compassion or grace i was ever willing to give you have killed it, smothered it, turned it into ashes and then piss on the debris just to spite me. every chance i gave you to be a better person, to do the right thing, you have squandered it and ignored it. you genuinely disgust me. you're repulsive. i feel sorry only for myself for ever believing you were more than a parasite, a groomer and an abuser. Brittany has never been better than the day you both stopped being friends. your sibling, who never liked you in the way you wanted them to and never would have, is a better friend you never was. everyone who has left you is better for it and someday that fact will fully crush you, but there won't be anyone there to console you and tell you that you "deserved better" because you'll be all alone. nobody will be responsible for that when it happens. not me, not Brittany, not Courtney, not any of the other blogs who criticize you. you. you always be your worst enemy and, the best part is, that is the one you'll never get rid of.

[zixzs-ajk]

I’ve seen two pieces of artwork in which a character has scars all across their back. I was just curious as to what that represents and where the cultural origins of that come from. I was personally a bit uncomfortable seeing this but would be open to hearing you out, which may change my mind. :)

I mainly refer to this post: https://at.tumblr.com/zixzs-ajk/hurr-durr-exposed-midriffs-rule-34/ebkz30xk9umc

Also as an aside, regarding the backlash against you regarding the way you draw the main Deltarune characters in the few months I’ve followed you, I don’t see anything that crosses the line of being graphic material from what I’ve seen at least. I’ve learned a lot about terminally online individuals (mainly egotistical kids since their values dictate how social media operates) that think they know everything about such sensitive real-world issues. People just want to create problems out of thin air and then attempt to solve them to make it seem like they’re doing good for the world, when in reality they’re not helping the conversation at all. I hope you’re both managing yourself okay & will be able to mentally disconnect yourself from these ideologies. You’ll live a much healthier life, trust me!

Aw, thank you for kind words and support! I don't like diving into the "mature" pieces I draw on this website since it attracts annoying teenagers like a bowl of syrup attracts fruit flies, but I do make a point of tangibly separating what goes where in regards to specific online platforms.

Officially, I left the causes of those scars purposefully ambiguous, since I like seeing others' perspectives and ideas (someone thought that they were scars from other the other Titans that Ralsei betrayed and that's cool as fuck). I was excited to see peoples theories and ideas about the scars when I posted it. People came up with some really cool theories!

UNFUN LACK OF AMBIGUITY AHEAD:

Unofficially, I have a headcanon idea for one of my fanfictions that Ralsei helped the Knight open the first Dark Fountain. He did this to jump-start the prophecy since Ralsei was lonely in his castle and he couldn't bear to wait for his friends any longer. He still opposes the Knight and banked on the prophecy being true regardless of how the prophecy begins, betraying the Knight immediately. Those scars on Ralsei's back were inflicted by the Knight after they both opened the first Dark Fountain and Ralsei immediately tried "pacifying" the Knight.

[boreal-sea]

Shanah tovah!

Blk transmasc Anon from b4, sorry if the example that I gave wasn't the best. But on that note/theme of radfems pushing moc under the bus in the name of female liberation, what's your opinion on this one: www.tumblr.com/moomoolamoo/728638251999592448/

Tw unlike the last radfem, this one is more abrassive, cynical and direct

I mean. Yeah. Radfems throw men of color under the bus. That's just kind of a thing they do because they're fucking awful.

(also, in the endless game of "do I already have the radfem blog blocked" - yes, I do)

But I'm not a radfem. And I've talked openly about how racist they can be. I'm just not entirely sure the point of your messages. Is it to expose how racist radfems can be? We can do that without platforming them. And I mean... we all know this, right?

My opinion is that OP of that post is being an awful person. Is she specifically being racist? Yes, but it's complicated. She'll claim she's not being racist because she doesn't hate women of color. In my opinion, hating half of all PoC based on their sex assigned at birth still makes you racist. Not half-racist, full on racist.

But she's also just in general throwing ALL men under the bus, regardless of race.

[mobileappdevelopmentsolution]

How to Secure Your On-Demand App

On-demand app development solutions have revolutionized many industries by providing quick and convenient services with just a few taps. However, with sensitive user data and financial transactions taking place within these apps, security is paramount. 

This comprehensive guide will explore key strategies for securing your on-demand app and protecting user data.

 Implementing Encryption to Protect Data

One of the most fundamental security measures for on demand  app development is proper encryption, used to scramble data so only authorized parties can access it. Encryption should be implemented for:

User logins and passwords:Require strong password policies and hash passwords using algorithms like BCrypt before storing them.

Financial information:Encrypt credit card numbers, bank account details, and other financial data end-to-end. 

Sensitive user data:Encrypt personally identifiable information like addresses, IDs, and location data.

App traffic:Use HTTPS and TLS 1.2+ to encrypt all traffic between apps, servers, and third-party services.

Proper key management is also critical - keys should be rotated regularly, access restricted, and key generation performed by cryptographic modules. On the front end, on demand app developers leverage native encryption libraries within platforms like iOS, Android, and React Native. 

For the backend, services like Amazon's Key Management Service can securely manage keys.

Authenticating Users and Limiting Data Access 

Even with encryption, proper access controls are still needed to restrict who can view and modify data within your app. Authentication mechanisms like OAuth 2.0 and OpenID Connect allow users to securely log in without exposing their credentials. Include options for multi-factor authentication (MFA) to add an extra layer of account security.

Once authenticated, on demand app developers apply the principle of least privilege for data access. Give employees and third parties only the minimum access needed to do their jobs, limit networks and hosts they can access, and use restricted database roles. Anonymize and aggregate data to protect privacy when possible. Conducting penetration tests helps identify weak points that could allow any on demand app development company unauthorized data access.

Building a Secure Tech Stack

Your app's technology stack - frameworks, libraries, cloud services, etc. - must be secured as part of your overall strategy. When selecting on demand app developers, thoroughly research their security features and track record. Keep everything up-to-date and follow advisories to avoid vulnerabilities. 

Conducting Audits and Penetration Tests

Regular comprehensive audits by any on demand app development company help you identify and remediate security flaws before they can be exploited. 

Here are some key activities to include:

Code audits:Carefully review application source code for bugs, misconfigurations, and vulnerabilities. Adopt secure coding practices.

Network scanning:Check network topology and expose any unprotected ports or services.

Penetration testing: Simulate attacks to find weaknesses in your app and infrastructure.

System auditing: Inspect server settings, file permissions, user accounts, etc. for misconfigurations.

Schedule audits frequently, such as every month or quarter, to stay on top of the evolving threat landscape. Prioritize fixes based on severity and risk to your on demand software development solution.

Securely Transmitting and Storing App Data 

Data should remain protected while at rest and in transit between your app, servers, and external services. Follow these best practices:

Secure connections:Use TLS 1.2+ and certificate validation for all connections.

Encrypt message queues: Encrypt payloads being transmitted via queues like Kafka. 

Hash sensitive data: One-way hash function like bcrypt can secure stored data.

Key management: Store and manage keys securely using services like AWS KMS.

Backups:Encrypt backups and store them separately from live data. 

Choose trusted, enterprise-grade data storage services over DIY solutions - they have more rigorous security controls and compliance.

Fostering a Security-First Culture

Technical controls are only one part of the picture - a company-wide focus on security is needed to keep your app safe. Promote security awareness among your staff through training. Have leadership emphasizes security's importance. Ensure security has representation on product and technical teams. Build secure coding practices into your development lifecycle. Reward those who spot vulnerabilities or suggest improvements.

By embedding security into all aspects of your company and on demand software development, you will reap long-term dividends through avoided data breaches, resilient systems, and satisfied users who trust your app. The upfront time and resources invested into app security will pay off.

Conclusion

As we have explored, implementing robust security measures requires diligence across your app's architecture, on demand app development processes, and company culture. However, the effort is well worth it to sustain trust with your users and withstand the evolving threat landscape. Focus on security early in on demand software development so it is baked into your app's foundation. Leverage established frameworks, protocols, and services to implement proven protections around sensitive data and transactions.

Though we have covered many key strategies in this guide, new attack vectors and vulnerabilities surface constantly in the world of cybersecurity. Continuously research emerging best practices, perform threat modeling, and invest in security tools and talent to harden your defenses over time. View security as an ongoing process rather than a checklist.

For expert guidance implementing security for your unique app environment, partner with a leading mobile app development company like Consagous Technologies. Our experience delivering secure, reliable enterprise on demand app development solutions provides deep insight into architectural and technical considerations across diverse mobile platforms and cloud architectures.  By collaborating with specialized security consultants, you can bring robust protection to your app without sacrificing usability or innovation. Contact us today!

[bincognit0]

out & about + self-discovery.

what a day.

first, we dropped off our fur baby at my parents. it truly felt like we were dropping our kid off to have a proper date night. next, we hit this small diner. the bar sitting wrapped around the kitchen. service was quick and it was a unique experience. we ended with some apple pie, by then I was too stuffed. but, the ice cream was amazing.

another major component to our date was the film, poor things. i was deeply intrigued by all the buzz. to be honest, i very much wanted to watch anyone but you. but, i wanted to keep that to myself. truthfully, i wanted to pick the movie that would make me seem the most interesting to my husband. and for once, i'm not mad at that. we had to drive back to our city to be able to watch it because all the seats in downtown were already sold.

before we left, we stopped for a quick coffee. the place i wanted to go to was part barbershop and park coffee shop. and, that right there should've been my sign. to begin with, parking was a bitch and the neighborhood was sketch. once inside, the place had an odd smell. it was a weird mix of hair and coffee, except it produced an odd scent resembling neither. also, the bathroom situation sucked. it just felt exposed. not tucked away in some hallway. i didn't like it.

we drove in traffic for some time until we finally arrived to a nearby theater. the film was terrific. i'm so happy i went down that route. my husband and i went into it blindly and we were more than happy with the outcome. we enjoy doing that, and more often than not, it yields good results. afterwards, we stopped to pick up wine. when we got home, we started the docuseries, twin flames on netflix. it was crazy. we watched the first episode with popcorn, and moved on to watch forgetting sarah marshall.

it is now nearly 4am and i can't sleep. in my restless condition, i began to look for light pink blushes. i have a medium skin tone, so they either look ashy or somehow too orange. buying any makeup requires a bit of research as a brown girl. i succeeded and i can't wait to try them. i also went overboard and bought 5 charlotte tilbury lipsticks and one lipliner. some are minis so, i don't feel too bad.

i mean, i don't feel too-too bad. looking good is an investment well worth my money and time. i feel good and then my husband can't get enough of me. today, i got all dolled up again, only this time-i experimented with my look. i wore these low-rise true religion flare jeans, a black cropped tee, black cardigan, and platform boots that made me look like a bratz doll. my hair and makeup was done to the nines, and i had a cool red italian leather purse to seal the deal. i was on cloud nine.

i finally took out some of my winter wardrobe. it's finally cold enough to use it, only to discover that it was not what i anticipated. in my mind, i thought i was to unpack all of this heat. i was wrong. i only found some items i liked, some to hem, some of my staples and basics. this happens a lot. i have struggled with personal style for a very long time. my husband had to help me pick my outfit because i was doing a god-awful job at it.

i want to change that. i can feel myself connecting to my femininity. i also feel like dropping some acts. i used to think making somewhat cringey jokes to emulate cringy things (?) was funny and now i don't feel like doing that. that probably sounded weird, but sometimes i use the stupidest humor and i've realized most people go with it, but now, i can totally see them laughing at me when i'm not around. i just feel like being more cool, calm and collected? i hope it lasts. maybe its my age? like something finally clicked?

[pinkargyles]

Argyle Pink Diamond Rings: Beauty Beyond Imagination

Welcome, dear readers! Today, we embark on an exciting journey into the world of Argyle Pink Diamonds Ring, where beauty knows no bounds. Brace yourselves for an exploration of these stunning gems that will leave you captivated and in awe. Let's dive in!

What are Argyle Pink Diamonds?

Argyle Pink Diamonds are a rare and extraordinary marvel of nature. Their rarity lies in the fact that less than 0.1% of the diamonds mined at the Argyle mine showcase this coveted pink color. These remarkable gems have become a symbol of prestige and elegance in the jewelry industry.

III. The Beauty of Argyle Pink Diamond Rings:

Prepare to be enchanted by the irresistible allure of Argyle Pink Diamond Rings. These rings showcase the breathtaking beauty of these rare gems in a way that is truly incomparable. The distinct characteristics of these diamonds, such as their color intensity, clarity, and cut, contribute to their uniqueness and desirability.

The color intensity of Argyle Pink Diamonds ranges from delicate pastel shades to vibrant, deep pinks. The rarity of these colors makes them all the more captivating. Their exceptional clarity ensures that each diamond radiates an unmatched brilliance, reflecting light in a way that seems to create an ethereal glow. The precision cut of these diamonds maximizes their natural beauty, creating a sparkle that is nothing short of mesmerizing.

Furthermore, Argyle Pink Diamond Rings are often considered as investment pieces due to their increasing value over time. These gems have proven to be an excellent long-term investment, and their beauty only grows more enchanting with age.

Design Options for Argyle Pink Diamond Rings:

When it comes to design options for Argyle Pink Diamond Rings, the possibilities are endless. From classic solitaire settings to intricate halo designs, each ring showcases the beauty of these rare gems in its own unique way. The choice of metal, whether it be platinum, white gold, or rose gold, further enhances the elegance of the ring.

To add an extra touch of sophistication, complementary gemstones can be incorporated into the design. Imagine a ring with a halo of sparkling white diamonds, accentuating the pink diamond at its center, or a pink diamond surrounded by a halo of exquisite pink sapphires to create a monochromatic masterpiece.

Choosing the perfect design for an Argyle Pink Diamond Ring should be based on personal preference and occasion. Whether it's a timeless and elegant design or a bold and contemporary statement piece, there is a style to suit every taste.

Caring for Argyle Pink Diamond Rings:

To ensure the longevity and brilliance of your Argyle Pink Diamond Ring, proper care is essential. Regular cleaning using mild soap and warm water will help maintain its luster. It is advisable to avoid exposing the ring to harsh chemicals or abrasive materials.

When not being worn, storing the ring in a fabric-lined jewelry box or a soft pouch will protect it from scratches. Additionally, professional maintenance services, such as periodic inspections and prong tightening, are recommended to keep the ring in pristine condition.

Since Argyle Pink Diamond Rings are valuable investments, it is crucial to consider insuring them. Insurance coverage provides peace of mind, knowing that your precious ring is protected against loss, damage, or theft.

Where to Find Authentic Argyle Pink Diamond Rings:

Authenticity is paramount when acquiring an Argyle Pink Diamond Ring. Reputable jewelers or online platforms specializing in these precious gems are the ideal sources to ensure the authenticity and quality of your purchase. These experts have the knowledge and expertise to guide you in selecting the perfect ring that meets your desires and budget.

Be sure to explore exclusive collections and limited-time offers from trusted retailers, as they often provide unique opportunities to acquire rare and exquisite Argyle Pink Diamond Rings.

Conclusion:

As we conclude our journey through the world of Argyle Pink Diamond Rings, we are left with a sense of awe and wonder at the exceptional beauty that lies beyond imagination. These rare gems, with their unique pink hue and timeless elegance, have captivated hearts and minds across the globe.

Now, we invite you to embark on your own journey into the world of Argyle Pink Diamonds Ring. Let their beauty inspire and enchant you, as you consider adding one of these extraordinary gems to your collection. May your search be filled with joy and discovery, and may you find a treasure that will be cherished for generations to come.

Source URL : https://australian-diamond.blogspot.com/2023/10/argyle-pink-diamond-rings-beauty-beyond.html

[fulcrums501st]

(this continuation is my addition to a thread I rebloged about arcane s2 discourse and media literacy)

in the end, art is obviously subjective and everyone had different expectations going into s2 based on their interpretation of s1 and how they interacted with it. Like you can pick and chose pieces of evidence to fit whatever argument you want lmao, selection bias and whatnot, and everyone is capable of it. so policing people opinions by throwing around the phrase “media literacy” is annoying. media literacy is about understand the text and it’s intensions in the light of the context it was written/created. People can have the same level of media comprehension of a work, and yet still have vastly different opinions on how well it was executed or how much they enjoyed it. Cuz again, art is mostly subjective.

I always see points I agree with and disagree with on “both sides” but I also rlly hate that the arcane discourse has become split into “sides” that assume ya either love the second season or hate it and think everything was awful. and I think that rlly inhibits thoughtful discussion from occurring, or at least less heated discussion. plus it’s pretty easy to curate the content you interact with so you’re only seeing people who already agree with you and so you aren’t exposed to other opinions as much. we naturally are more inclined to listen to and believe others whose opinions already align with our own. this happens on literally every social media platform lol, it’s how apps keep ya engaged. but it’s also how echo chambers of inaccurate and biased info emerge. but I digress.

Anyway, by critiquing something, you’re automatically associated with hating the whole season as if it personally killed your parents. Or if you praise parts of it, and like stuff the creators were trying to do, people assume you’re defending every single part of the season or you think there are no flaws. And I think there’s pressure to fully commit to one side before ya personally reflect on how you personally felt about the season.

There’s always gonna be wild takes on “both sides”. And both sides always rage and focus on the most wild takes on their respective opposing side to discredit the opinions/thoughts of the whole side, as if a whole group can be defined by one persons dumb post.

social media kinda makes this sort of thing inevitable, tumblr just less so than something like Twitter I’d say. we just gotta be aware that it’s happening

I guess this ramble applies to basically any online discourse.

(Most people I have seen are trying to have thoughtful discussions about critiques and praise. but *ahem* certain individuals are harassing others for their opinions which makes this already needlessly polarizing topic become more polarizing. and being rude and spouting insults at others for their opinions is, simply put, silly and immature.)

Idk how to feel. cuz I agree with a decent amount of arcane s2 critiques, but not to the point of outwardly hating the second season, but I also don’t think it’s a perfect finale for the characters, themes, and show. there’s a lot in the second season I still respect and appreciate, but there’s some gripes I rlly just can’t ignore or defend (Piltover/Zaun themes being sorts forgotten abt). Idk I’m not an arcane s2 lover but I’m also not an arcane s2 hater.

I truly believe there were good ideas, but the writers decided to take on too much plot stuff and thus all the themes and arcs and stuff feel half-baked and lack nuance. I feel like there are so many good pieces in s2, they just needed more time and to cut certain plot stuff to make the vision work thematically.

I think there are some inaccurate and insane takes from both s2 defenders and haters. I think, much like the characters and themes of arcane, there is more nuance to the positives and negatives of the season in a way that makes it impossible to label it as “good” or “bad”.

(Plz don’t send hate ur allowed to love or hate the szn I rlly don’t care, I just don’t want the discourse to become “you either hate or love the second season” and no in between, cuz it be more complicated than that)

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍

week 3 - day 9 - kinktober - spanking and being recorded - camboy ransom drysdale x camgirl reader.

warning - spanking and being recorded

kinktober masterlist

18+ only please, the gifs and headers aren’t mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Ransom opens the door, and his cute little cam-buddy is standing on the other side dressed in the tiny maid’s costume he bought her. She quickly heads inside with her arms tightly wrapped around herself. “Aww, Sweetheart, did you walk here wearing this cute little piece?” His hands come down to play with the hem of the dress. 

Y/n’s plump lips pout, her eyes wide, and small tears forming. The harsh words and the catcalls she received on the way here are still stuck in her head, “y–you said that you wanted me in this… and that you wanted me over now….” Ransom’s hand caresses her cheeks, wiping away the fallen tears.

“Aw, my poor baby. I bet no one treated you nicely while you were heading here, did they?” He watches you shake your head. “I’m still going to have to punish you, though, for showing everyone the goods without payment.” Ransom leads you to the bedroom, where the lights are dimmed, and the camera is set up.

The room smells of vanilla and jasmine as the candle in the corner burns, Ransom may be an ass to everyone else, but you are his baby and the only person he’s remotely soft for, unless it comes down to his cock then he’s rock hard for you. 

Ransom’s grey trackies are sat low on his hips, displaying the defined v-line and the monstrous bulge that causes your mouth to water. He leads you to the bed, instructing you to sit as he walks over to the camera. “Now, my little dumb baby. I’ll give you an easy task to do. When I walk over there, all you have to do is bend over my lap. You understand?” Y/n nods, feeling her mind already going fuzzy from being in his presence.

Ransom turns the camera on before he turns and faces the goddess on his bed. Sauntering over to her, he sits and pats his thigh. His bulge straining against his pants as all he wanted to do was pound the shit out of her, but the fans wanted her to be spanked. Who is he to ignore his fans? Especially when they are the ones bringing the money in.

Y/n stumbles a bit as she crawls over his lap and lays herself down. The bottom of her costume lifts, exposing her bare ass. Ransom groans, biting his lip as his hand comes down and palms her cheeks before he lifts and strikes it down. The sound of the slap echoes in the room. “Naughty girl, you walked around with nothing underneath. How many do you think you deserve, huh?” He waits a few seconds before a hand comes up and under your chin. He turns your head to face him, already noticing the spaced-out look in your eyes and the drool leaking out of your mouth.

“I haven’t even done anything yet, and you’ve already gone dumb. I guess it’s up to me how many you deserve.” A dark look takes over his features, his hand striking down harder as his gaze lifts and stares into the camera. As his hand continues to come down harder on her ass, her soft moans fill the room and Ransom’s cock throbs, his hand and fingers begin to feel wet, causing him to look down, and the sight he sees causes a growl to leave his mouth.

“D–don’t stop... Please, S–sir, please don’t stop.” Y/n’s whines fill the room, her cheeks red and cunt dripping. Tears fall from her eyes as her pussy throbs, wanting Ransom to continue, feeling desperate. 

“Such a dirty slut, getting fucking wet from me spanking you?” A smirk forms on Ransom’s face before he harshly moves your body, sitting you on his lap and legs spread while your facing the camera. You look fucked and ruined. Ransom rests his chin on your shoulder, staring directly into the camera and smirking darkly. Before his hand flies down and spanks your throbbing cunt, causing Y/n to nearly fly forward and a sharp moan to fall from your lips.

Ransom continues to slap your puffy pussy, enjoying the sounds it makes when the flesh of his hand connects. “Doesn’t she look wonderful?” A hand comes up and wraps tightly around your throat, the other continuing to spank your cute little cunt as mewls fall from her lips. Ransom moves closer to your ear as he whispers, “you’re the reason we make so much, my cute little baby.” His hand strikes down hard, catching your swollen button, “you’re mine. You only do this with me. You understand, sweetheart?” Whimpers leave Y/n’s mouth as you rapidly nod, your hips grinding down as you can feel your end approach quickly. Each slap of his hand brings you closer. “Speak,” Ransom spanks harder. 

Y/n’s back arches as she screams. “Yes! YES! O–only yours, Sir!” Her cunt spasms as she squirts. Her juices cover everything, and her nails dig into Ransom’s thighs. Her cunt throbs as Ransom continues to slap her sore lips. A wet spot forms on Ransom’s pants as he cums hard, holding tightly onto Y/n as he feels his cock throb and spasm wildly, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Once they both come down, Ransom falls back into the bed, pulling Y/n along and holding her against him tightly. He lets out a breath of relief, placing a bunch of kisses along the small woman’s head and then softly tucks her into his bed as he gets up and turns the camera off. “I’ll edit and post these tomorrow. How does that sound, sweetheart?” He notices us fast asleep when he turns, snuggled into his blanket.

A soft smile that no one ever sees appears on his face before he walks over, gently pulling the blanket back and removing our costume. Ransom reaches into his nightstand and takes out some soothing cream, and he applies it gently to our red and sore flesh before Ransom crawls into the bed and pulls us against his body snugly before falling into a deep sleep, satisfied and happy with how his life turned out.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Impulsive Decisions

Summary: A trip to Midnight’s old stomping grounds leaves the Batch’s civilian in a funk. The Batch takes her to 79s to relax, leading to a few drunken confessions. Maybe things weren’t going as smoothly as they had told Cody.

Pairing: Hunter x reader, mentioned poly!Bad Batch x reader at the end

Characters: Reader (written in 3rd person, mc is not named but has an established nickname, no physical descriptions are given), The Bad Batch + Echo

Warnings: NSFW, smut, explicit language, P in V sex, mentions of crime, shitty politics, a bit of PTSD but nothing detailed, some slight medical stuff (reader gets an exam), hinted at sort of slavery (it’s like two sentences), mention of gang wars (again like two sentences), seedy Coruscant underworld, alcohol, reader gets drunk, a reg shit talks the Batch, some heavy feels, discussions of polyamory at the end. 

A/N: This takes place before the first two parts, really focusing on how Midnight and The Bad Batch came together and worked out how their relationship was gonna work. This is also very long. It’s the longest part so far and I’m sorry but there was so much to fit into this one. 

Also in case you’re wondering, I’ve been basing how the Bad Batch looks on Uzuri Art’s depictions of them. Check them out, they’re stunning. 

< Previous | Next > | MASTERLIST

Midnight sits in the copilot’s seat, watching the ecumenopolis get closer and closer. She wasn’t happy about being back. Part of Cody’s spiel about the benefits of joining the GAR was that she would get off Coruscant, and her trips back would be seldom. It had been almost six standard months since she had seen it, since she had signed her life away to the GAR and flown out of the atmosphere with Commander Cody to some distant planet she’d never even heard of to meet her squad. 

She didn’t regret it. 

The cockpit is quiet, Tech’s intense concentration as he pilots a welcome solace. Hunter was shut in his bunk, utilizing the specialized helmet Tech had made. It dampened his senses, gently easing him into sounds and smells of the louder worlds they landed on. It prevented nasty migraines that bloomed when he was exposed to too much at once without warning. She could only imagine what Coruscant was like for him. It smelled and was loud even without heightened senses. 

Echo was also in his bunk. He had looked about as happy as she felt to be returning to Coruscant. He hadn’t been back since his rescue. They were going to see a lot of what they called “regs” over the next couple days. They had a check in with the GAR, and then a couple errands to run. If they were lucky, they’d get some time off to relax before they’d get their next mission. 

Midnight doesn’t expect to do much relaxing on this trip. 

The first thing she does when she steps off the ship is look up. The sky is clear above them, bright and blue in the sunlight. It was the first thing she’d done when she made it to the upper levels with Cody. She’d looked up at the night sky, at two of the moons hanging over them in awe. 

You don’t see the sky where I’m from. 

The closest they got was the clouds that formed a few levels up from the trapped moisture, dumping dirty, sticky rain over the underworld when it got too hot in the sky levels. She’d been in awe when she experienced clean rain for the first time in her training. She’d been laughed at by her fellow trainees when she’d ducked under the nearest ship’s wing to avoid the rain. She had been shocked to find it didn’t leave her skin streaked and sticky. 

“I’m heading to the civilian offices.” She tells the Batch when they join her on the landing platform. “I’ll meet you back here.” 

“Comm us if you need us.” Hunter tells her. It’s the same thing he says anytime she goes off on her own. Not that she went off on her own much. 

She salutes him jokingly, even though he told her that wasn’t necessary, making her way towards the building where the civilian offices were. She checks in, taking a seat in the hard plastic chair. Everything about the office was clinical, made for function, not comfort. Everything for the clones was made that way. Function over comfort. It made her sad. 

She takes a seat on the exam table when she’s called back, the clone medic going through the usual questions. How was she doing, was she fitting in well with her squad. All the boring questions. 

“You’re overdue for a physical exam.” The medic tells her. 

Midnight shrugs. “We don’t get a lot of chances to stop at bases.” It was technically true. She could have gotten them done on Kamino, but she wasn’t fond of the Kaminoans and their obvious disapproval of her presence when the squad stopped there. 

The medic conducts the physical exam, cataloging any injuries, testing her blood, making sure she’s healthy and hasn’t picked up any illnesses off any planets. 

The last thing he does is hand her a cup. “Pregnancy test.”

“Excuse me?” Midnight blanches. 

“It’s protocol.” The medic says. “All females employed by the GAR have to take one regularly.” 

“Right.” Midnight’s jaw clenches, but she takes the cup, getting up. She heads into the fresher, muttering to herself. “I bet they don’t make the Jedi do this.” 

It wasn’t like she didn’t understand. Being in close quarters with a bunch of men had to lead to things. They couldn’t expect a bunch of soldiers to run around a battle field and not want to fuck afterward. They had to let off steam somehow. She’d felt post-fight arousal a few times in her life. Hell, back when she was with the fighting ring she’d fucked her opponent after a fight a couple times. 

No, she understood well the need for the pregnancy test. She lived in very close quarters with five very attractive clones. Kriff if she hadn’t thought about it more than once. Just what kinds of things Tech’s skilled fingers could do to her body. If all of Wrecker had been enhanced. Even just those thick fingers were enough to make shivers run down her spine. 

But she would never put them in a position like that. If she really got desperate, she’d ask one of the “regs” when they got time off, or landed on Kamino. At the worst, she had her own fingers. But she had refrained even from that, the thought of Hunter overhearing her had her body warming, heat flushing straight through her from head to toe. 

Hunter was her weak spot. It was ridiculous, cliche even. Things had been a bit rocky in the beginning as she’d worked to find her place among the five men that made up Clone Force 99. She was an outsider, not just in the fact she was a civilian. They were clones, she was not. They had their enhancements, though she was skilled in certain areas, there was nothing enhanced about her. And...she was a woman. 

Hunter had been the first to be stiffly cordial towards her. She knew immediately he would be the one that was hardest for her to be around. Wrecker, the child in a giant’s body, had been the most welcoming. Tech had been distant, but given he spent most of his time hunched over some gadget or machine, spouting off facts and corrections of facts in conversations he wasn’t even a part of, that wasn’t surprising to her. Echo was...shy. Hunter had loosely explained his situation. She understood, and she didn’t press him any. Crosshair was...Crosshair. He took the biggest issue with her joining, and made sure to make it known he did not approve. He had toned down the snarky remarks a bit, but his disapproval was still felt every chance he got. 

But Hunter. Stupid, ruggedly handsome Hunter. She’d seen them without their armor, dressed in nothing but the black bodysuit the plastoid attached to. How well it fit all of them. But Hunter with his broad shoulders and thin waist, his strong thighs. She still remembers when he’d put his hand on the back of her head, forcing her down seconds before a blaster bolt hit the wall behind her. How his touch had lingered after she’d shot down the droid. How she had longed to trace his skull tattoo, tangle her fingers in those thick curls that fell so effortlessly around his bandanna. 

Kriffing Hunter. 

The results of the test come back negative, as expected. She had an implant anyway. All GAR soldiers had them, clones and civilians. The medic lets her go, telling her they’d upload her results to the system and her team’s medic could access them. Clone Force 99 didn’t have an official medic. Tech usually filled that role due to his extensive knowledge of, well, everything. The Batch didn’t really need a full time medic. Despite their dangerous mission, they never really got injured often. In fact, the last major injury they’d had was when Wrecker was caught too close to an explosion. 

She was usually the only one getting patched up after missions. Cuts, scrapes, bruises. Tech had explained it was because of her lack of plastoid armor. Her GAR issued civilian armor wasn’t meant for close combat like she was seeing. She needed something thicker, something that could take a few hits. Tech had already started making adjustments, fixing the weak spots, trying to make her something she could still move in but that would offer better protection. 

She couldn’t wear the clone armor. She had two immediate concerns when it came to the fit. Plus, it was kriffing heavy. She’d held Hunter’s helmet once and she had no clue how they even moved in it at all, much less so effortlessly. 

She shakes the impure thoughts from her head as she makes her way back to the Marauder. They’re already waiting for her, gathered around a speeder. 

“Everything alright?” Hunter asks as she finally joins them. 

“Yeah, had to do a physical.” She explains. 

“I saw your results.” Tech says, fiddling with something on his vambrace. 

“‘Course you did.” She says. “So, where to next?” 

“We’re going down a few levels to pick up some intel for our next mission.” Hunter says. 

“How many levels?” She asks hesitantly, already wondering if she can ask to stay on the Marauder, or even back in the offices. 

“Back to your old stomping grounds.” Crosshair says as he climbs into the speeder. 

Midnight swallows thickly, fighting back the array of emotions running through her. “We need to make a stop first.” 

Hunter looks at her incredulously. 

“Please?” She adds, not wanting to have to explain it all in that moment. 

Hunter relents, stopping at a store for her. She climbs back into the speeder carrying three bags of candy. 

“What is that for?” Tech asks curiously. 

“You’ll see.” She says, shoving two of the bags into her pack, slipping the third into a side pocket as they take off again, dropping down lower and lower into the city. 

She had hoped Crosshair had been joking when he’d said they were going back to where she grew up. Of course he had been serious. She hadn’t been this deep in the Coruscant underworld since the night she met Cody. She had forgotten just how dark it was, how bad it smelled. She felt for Hunter. She really did. She hadn’t missed the sticky streets, the seedy businesses, the cautious eyes watching them. 

“This is where you grew up?” Echo asks as they make their way through the street. 

She nods. “Well, not this area, but these levels.” 

“No wonder you’re so tough.” Wrecker says. 

Midnight shrugs. “When it’s all you know.” 

They make it further than she thought without incident, most of the characters wanting to avoid a group of men in armor. She’s surprised none of them were stupid enough to try and rob them, but naturally walking around armed was a good deterrent. 

She’d been distracted in her own thoughts when they suddenly found themselves blocked off. 

“Beat it, kids.” She hears Hunter growl and she immediately jumps into action. 

She moves past Hunter, putting a hand on his arm. “I’ve got this.” She steps forward to the line of kids, reaching back to pull the bag of candy from her pack. She holds it up, raising her eyebrows. 

The kid who was obviously the leader stares at the candy longingly before nodding, holding his hands out. She drops the bag into his waiting hands, the kids parting for them to pass. She looks back at the Batch, nodding for them to continue. 

“So that’s what the candy was for.” Tech says. 

She shrugs. “They’ll usually take anything, but candy’s the most successful bargaining chip.” 

“You know a lot about life down here.” Tech presses, his curious tone taking over his voice. 

“Yeah.” She shrugs. “Not too long ago that was me. Some days what you can bully off of strangers is the only thing you get to eat.” 

“That’s horrible.” Echo says. 

“That’s reality. Senators sit up there making decisions about a war a galaxy away and ignore the trillions of people under them who can’t even afford to eat everyday.” She swallows the emotions down. “I got lucky, getting out.” 

None of them say anything, something she’s glad for. She had told them a bit of her past, of her life down here. But there was a lot they didn’t know. A lot they couldn’t understand. She’s not sure she could ever tell them everything, that she would ever want to. 

They make it to their destination quickly, Midnight reading the name of the bar. It looked like most underworld bars, bright letters almost blinding in the dim light outside. 

“We’ll do this fast.” Hunter says. “Go in, get the info, then we’ll leave.” 

“Echo and I will stay out here.” Midnight says, turning to face the leader. He gives her a look, but she speaks before he can argue. “You want this to go fast? Echo and I stay.” 

Hunter’s jaw clenches but he relents, nodding once. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

Midnight moves away from the door, taking a seat on the bench out front. Echo remains standing, eyes scanning the street. 

“Why are we out here?” Echo asks her. 

“Just on the off chance they’d try to bargain for the information.” She digs out a couple pieces of candy from her pack. “They’d try to exchange us for the info.” She offers him a piece. 

He takes it, unwrapping it. “They’d really do that?” 

“A woman and a cyborg are worth a lot down here.” 

“Isn’t it a bit dangerous for us to be out here alone, then?” He says, sweeping the street again. 

“No.” She shrugs. “They know they can’t get to us without a fight. And a firefight will attract other gangs. It’s a domino effect until there’s a full on gang war in the streets. They don’t want that, so they’ll leave us alone.” 

“You really do know a lot about what goes on down here.” He says, moving slightly closer to her. 

She shrugs again. “I’m observant. It’s how I survived. How I met Cody.” 

They lapse into silence, waiting for the rest of the team to appear. They watch the passersby, none of them giving the two a passing glance. Midnight watches as a couple kids creep out of an alley, a girl and two boys. They’re heckling her, the girl getting loud as she tries to fight back. Midnight swallows the lump in her throat as the girl kicks one of the boys, distracting them long enough for her to run. The boys quickly follow, chasing her down another alley. 

Thankfully the others leave the bar before she can think too much, talk herself into following. She was a soldier now. She had bigger things to focus on than what went on in the Coruscant underworld. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Hunter says, motioning for them to follow. 

She’s glad to leave, their exit quick and without any incident. 

She’s quiet as they head back towards the GAR and the Marauder. It had been harder than she’d thought to be back. To be constantly reminded of the life she left behind. The life she’d been saved from. Sure, her life was hard now, but at least she knew she was safe. Even when she was fighting on the front lines, being shot at by droids that knew nothing but that she was a target to be eliminated, she was safe. 

“You okay?” Hunter asks as she climbs out of the speeder when it stops next to the Marauder. 

There’s so much sincerity in his gaze she’s almost tempted to answer honestly. “Yeah.” She says. “It’s just hard being back.” 

He nods slowly. “We’ve got some time to kill, so we were gonna go grab a drink.” 

“You’re going to a bar?” She asks in disbelief. She knew about the clone bar, Cody had mentioned it when they met. But she didn’t expect them to be interested in going there. It had to be full of “regs” on leave. 

He shrugs. “Yeah. Figured we’d destress a little. We don’t get the chance often.” 

She nods. “Right.” She glances down at her suit. “Can I change?” 

He nods. “Sure. We’ll be waiting.” 

She climbs up the ramp to the Marauder, heading into her bunk. She digs her only dress out of her makeshift dresser. She hadn’t worn it since the last time she was on Coruscant. She’d brought it for occasions like this, when they got rare time off. It was short, revealing a decent amount of cleavage and a lot of leg. It wasn’t like she was actively trying to get laid. But if someone offered, she’s not sure she’ll be able to say no. 

Their jaws drop when she slowly descends the ramp. She had been nervous, anxious about how they’d react. They’re all staring at her, watching her as she approaches them. They all look flustered, Wrecker’s mouth open, Tech’s mouth opening and closing, for the first time totally speechless. Echo is wide eyed, even Crosshair is clenching his teeth around his toothpick harder than usual. Hunter is...hard to read. His eyes are dark, a serious look on his face as his eyes roam her form. Her suit was tight fitting, hiding little of her form to them, but she had never shown so much skin in front of them.

“You look...good.” Hunter finally says, the other four nodding in agreement. “Really good.” 

Her face warms at his words. “Thanks.” 

They’re all still in their armor, sans weapons and gear and helmets. She kind of wishes she’d get a chance to see them in something else, but maybe she’d get a chance yet. 

They surround her as they make their way to 79s. It was a habit for them more than anything. Hunter in the lead, Crosshair and Tech beside her, Echo and Wrecker at the back. Thankfully it’s still early enough there’s not many in the bar yet, giving them a chance to pick a good seat. Somewhere they’d draw little attention. 

They wind up in a booth in the back, in a secluded corner. They all get beer, the cheap free beer the bar gave out to clones. Clones didn’t get paid. It was something she was quick to realize. They weren’t so much soldiers as unwilling volunteers created for nothing more than fighting in a war. It made her heart hurt a bit, thinking their only purpose was to be expendable. 

She at least got paid. It wasn’t anything to brag about, but she’d earned more in six months than she’d ever seen before. She hadn’t spent a lot of it. She didn’t have time or need to. She had no travel expenses, she was provided meals, clothing, anything she needed, really. Even Cody had told her to ask him if she needed anything specific. He could see about pulling strings for her. 

In the short time she’d been employed by the GAR, she’d amassed what was, to her, a small fortune. All while the clones in the booth with her lived with the bare minimum, putting their lives on the line for what? A pat on the back? Getting to live to see the next day? 

“Don’t look so miserable.” Crosshair snaps from across the table. 

She looks up, finding the whole squad looking at her. “I’m not miserable.” She quickly chugs the rest of her beer. “Just lost in thought.” 

“Must be heavy thoughts.” Tech says. 

“Yeah. That means I’m not drunk enough yet.” She pushes Tech, wanting to get up. “I’m gonna get us something stronger.” 

She makes her way down to the bar, the club starting to pick up a bit. She leans against the bar, pressing her chest out a bit as she asks for a bottle of the strongest stuff she dare drink. A presence appears at her side, making her turn her head. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” 

She turns to fully face the clone, looking him over. He’s handsome. Then again, they all were. Maker bless Jango Fett for being hot, she thinks. “Is that your go to line?” She asks, giving him a small smirk. 

“Only for the ones I like. Can I buy you a drink?” 

The bartender sets her bottle and the shot glasses on the bar in front of her. She grabs them, turning back to the clone. “I’ve got plenty, thanks. But I’ll keep that offer in mind if I get lonely.” 

She turns, heading back towards the booth where her squad sat, making sure to sway her hips just a bit more than usual. Oh yeah. She wanted to get laid tonight. She sets the bottle and the glasses on the table, earning the attention of her squad again. She slides into the booth when Tech moves, pouring them all a shot. 

Echo sniffs it cautiously. “This is strong stuff.” 

“Yup.” She says, throwing the shot back. “That’s the point.” She pours another, drinking that one immediately as well. 

“You’re in a mood.” Crosshair says, taking his shot. 

She shrugs. “It’s this place. Coruscant.” She pours another shot. “I got lucky, getting out. But how many others don’t have that chance?” 

“Well, considering there’s estimated to be close to 3 trillion people on Coruscant, most of which live in the underworld in poor conditions, the likelihood is very small. Even with the war, the chances of them getting the opportunity you had is next to none. It’s more likely some of them join crime syndicates or become pirates in order to get off the planet. But even then it’s very unlikely they leave for long.” Tech rattles off, despite the daggers being glared into him from across the table. The chances of him getting punched in the next few seconds were high, Hunter knows. But it’s impossible to tell what Midnight was going to do. 

She grabs the bottle, pouring him another shot. “Here, Tech.” She slides the glass closer to him. “You also need to be more drunk.” 

“Let’s toast.” Hunter says as Midnight refills their glasses. “To luck.” 

“To luck!” They all cheer before downing another shot. 

Midnight easily drinks half the bottle herself. She was starting to feel it, the warmth blooming under her skin. She laughed at everything they said, every excited outburst from Wrecker was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Even Crosshair couldn’t get under her skin anymore. Tech was second drunkest, as every time he prattled off some fact or statistic, Midnight poured him a shot. 

She wasn’t drunk enough to miss the glances Hunter passed her way. Every time she laughed, or reached for the bottle, or said something, his eyes would glance over her. He was hard to read in the low light, his brows always furrowed in concentration. Always watching, always analyzing. 

She wonders if alcohol affects him more because of his heightened senses. She wonders if it makes them worse, or dulls them. She wonders what the bar is like for him. The sights, the sounds, the smells. Cheap beer, body odor, arousal. Does food taste stronger to him? What would she taste like to him? 

Kriff, she was starting to get horny. 

Maybe she should find that trooper from earlier, get him to take her home. Get some relief for the night. She’d have to face the walk of shame tomorrow, deal with the looks from her squad. It was an unspoken rule though, right? You didn’t fuck your squad mates. 

Even though she wanted to. 

She’d take any of them. Even Crosshair. Hell, she’d take all of them. 

“You alright, mesh’la?” Hunter’s voice pulls her from her daydreams. 

She loved it when he spoke Mando’a to her. She loved it when they all did it. Tech had given her a long talk about Mandalorian culture, their ties to it, even teaching her a few common words. Mesh’la was not one she knew, though. There were a couple they used that she didn’t know. She blinks at him, realizing she’d been leaning against the table staring. “Yeah.” She drags the word out, giving him a dopey smile. “Just admiring the view.” 

Oh yeah. She’s drunk. She’s getting into dangerous territory, but the alcohol was raging inside her now. Maybe she should have taken it slow. She should get up, dismiss herself from the booth now, find a trooper and leave. Let the alcohol ride itself out with a stranger she’d likely never see again. 

Not a squad of clones she had to face everyday for the foreseeable future. 

“The view?” Hunter asks, raising his brows as he stares at her. 

“Yeah.” She lets her eyes scan all of them. “Kriff, you’re all so pretty. Why are you all so pretty?” 

Tech shrugs. “We’re clones, cyar’ika. We all look the same.” 

“But you don’t!” She exclaims, tucking her legs under her so she’s kneeling on the seat. She leans on the table, giving the three clones in front of her quite a view. “I mean, you do, but you’re all so different. So unique. I just really wanna fuck you all.” 

She’s not drunk enough to forget what she just said. It hadn’t been what she wanted to say. She was going to say she loved them all, let them figure out what she meant as she excused herself to go find a “reg” to fuck for the night. But her tipsy brain had meshed her thoughts together, confessing something she swore she’d never say. It wasn’t even a slip of her drunken togue. It was a pure confession. 

They’re all gawking at her. All five of them. Maker, she wishes they’d say something. Get mad at her, yell at her, tell her they were going to have her reassigned tomorrow, to pack her things and leave because it was over for her. Crawl back to the underworld cause she had kriffed everything up. But they all seem to be as shocked as she is. 

She opens and closes her mouth a couple times, barely managing to squeak out a “fresher” before she’s crawling over Tech and all but running to the refreshers. 

She could cry. She could puke. She should just hide in the refresher until morning, until the staff kicked her out. Then maybe she could avoid them. She could slip out the back, head back to the ship and pack her stuff. Would she get in trouble for running away from the army? She did sign a contract. She could wait until morning when the offices open, go in and ask for reassignment. Somewhere she’d never have to see the Batch again. 

How was she going to face them after this? Maybe they were drunk enough they’d forget by morning. Maybe they’d write it off as her being drunk. Just the drunken ramblings of a nat-born. 

She’s screwed. Absolutely screwed. 

She washes her hands in the sink of the fresher, taking a deep breath. She could go to the bar, get something strong, find a trooper and slip out without them noticing. She’d face them tomorrow, play it off like she didn’t remember. If she were lucky, she’d get something strong enough she would forget this whole trip. 

She slips back towards the bar. The club is busy now, filled with clones on leave. She slips into an empty space at the bar, trying to blend in. 

“Get me the strongest thing you have.” She tells the bartender. 

“You’re sure?” He asks, giving her an incredulous look. 

“Make it a double.” She says, tossing extra credits on the bar. 

He shrugs, taking the credits before grabbing a bottle, pouring her a shot of glowing green liquid. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You here alone?” 

She turns to face the trooper, looking up at the smirking face. It wasn’t the trooper from before. Or, it could be, but she was beyond telling them apart right now. She grabs her drink, downing it in a smooth motion. It burns, almost like acid going down, but she welcomes it. Anything to distract her from the mortification still burning through her. This trooper is cocky. Full of himself. Not usually her type, but she was desperate. 

“She’s taken.” 

The voice comes from behind her before she can answer. She feels the warm body press up against her back, a familiar smell washing over her, over the many smells in the bar. A hand falls to her waist, holding her hip possessively. The clone straightens up, looking at the figure behind her. 

“Man, she looked desperate, but didn’t think she’d go for someone like you.” It’s meant as an insult towards both of them. 

“Hey, you watch your fucking mouth.” She hisses before Hunter can respond. “He’s twice the soldier you’ll ever be, sleemo. You only pick up desperate girls cause that’s all that’ll go for you.” 

She really was starting to get drunk now. She was getting angry. She was ready to fight. 

“Trust me, vod.” Hunter says. “She’s far from desperate.” 

“I’m not your vod.” The clone spits out, but decides they must not be worth it as he walks away. 

Midnight goes to turn, but Hunter’s hand on her hip urges her forward. “Come on. We’re going back to the ship.” He says. 

Kriff. This was it. She was going to get kicked out of the squad, told to pack her stuff and get out. Her future with the Batch was done. It was all over. 

“Hunter.” She whines, the cool night air washing over her, making her shiver. 

Hunter’s hand on her waist tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. His pace is quick, urgent as he leads her off towards the GAR, towards the Marauder. 

“Hunter, I’m sorry.” Maybe she could plead for forgiveness. Maybe they could put this all behind them, laugh it off as a joke. 

He shuts the ramp behind them once they’re inside. Her back meets the cool metal wall of the ship, Hunter’s body pressing hard into her. He’s...kissing her. His plush lips taste like alcohol, his tongue slipping into her mouth as she gasps in surprise. This...hadn’t been what she expected. 

“Hunter.” She murmurs against his lips, but she doesn’t stop kissing him. 

“Do you know...how hard it’s been.” He growls between kisses. “I’ve been smelling you for the last hour.” His hand slides down her waist, gripping a bare thigh. “How turned on you are.” 

She whines against his lips. Of course he could smell that. How he had smelled that in a bar full of horny people and alcohol was beyond her. Unless he had been paying attention to her. Close attention. 

His hand slides up her thigh, dipping under her dress. His fingers hit the curve of her ass, sliding up until he’s cupping it. He groans, burying his face in her neck. “Are you not wearing underwear?” 

“No.” She breathes, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. “Can see the lines in this dress.” 

He groans, his lips brushing her skin. “Tell me. Tell me what you said was true.” He squeezes her ass. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.” 

She moans when his teeth sink into her skin, bruising her neck. She was far too drunk to think of the consequences, what effect this could have on them, on the squad. “Yes.” She confesses. “Hunter, please fuck me.” 

He growls against her throat, his other hand wrapping around her thigh before he lifts her. She hangs on as he carries her to her makeshift room, dropping her on her cot. He begins the process of removing his armor, letting the pieces drop to the floor. She sits up, working on the bottom half as he strips himself from the top half. She saves the codpiece for last, slipping her fingers around the edges as she stares up into his dark eyes. He’s breathing heavy, thick chest rising and falling as he watches her. She bites her lip, peeling it away from his blacks before letting it fall to the floor. 

He’s hard. The bulge in his blacks is big, straining against the fabric. She licks her lips, eyelevel with it at this angle. She reaches for it, but he grabs her hand, pushing her back onto the cot. She stares up at him as he kneels over her, his gloves hitting the floor next. His gaze is dark as he looks down at her, his hand running along her body, starting at her chest. 

“You look so kriffing hot in that dress.” He says, his gaze hungry. “I’ve been hard since you walked down the ramp earlier.” His hands slip under her dress, teasing their way up her thighs. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for weeks.” He confesses. “Since our first mission. How hot you looked, taking out droid after droid. Kriff I had to jerk off in my bunk, I was so worked up.” 

He pulls her dress over her head, leaving her bare before him. He pauses, taking her in, letting his eyes and his fingers trail over her. Her own hands lift to his chest, hands closing around his blacks, tugging. 

“Take them off.” She says, tugging the top free from the bottoms. 

He does as she says, stripping off his blacks. He’s beautiful, sculpted like a piece of art. She lets her hands trail over him, feeling every ridge and muscle. He’s built like a god, like some sort of idol. She wants to get on her knees and worship him. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss her again. “I know the others want to. I can smell it, when they look at you. I can hear them in their bunks. In the fresher. Moaning your name when they think no one will hear.” 

She whimpers at the thought that maybe her drunken confession wasn’t going to be taken as hard as she thought. Maybe they had their own confessions to make. 

She pulls him down against her, reveling in the feeling of his body against hers for a moment before she flips them, the cot creaking as he hits it. She sits up over him, running her hands down his chest. He’s all muscle, strong and thick with it. She scoots down his thighs, revealing the thick member pressed against his stomach. 

Kriffing bless Jango Fett for his genes. 

She licks her lips, wrapping a hand around him. He’s hot and heavy, thick enough she can get her fingers around him, but still enough to fill her palm. She bends down, licking a stripe up his length. His tip is salty with precum, and she licks a bead from his head, looking him in the eyes. A string of curses leaves his lips, eyes almost black as they watch her. 

She slowly works her mouth around him, taking him as deep as she can. She’s already so wet she’s almost dripping, her thighs slick. She keeps her gaze locked on his as she works him, her hand closing around the bit she can’t reach. He’s moaning, the sound like music to her ears. 

His hand tangles in her hair, pulling her off him before he cums, his hands sliding her closer. He kisses her, his hand slipping between her thighs. He groans when his fingers slip through her wetness, her own groan matching as he brushes her clit. 

“Hunter! Need you to fuck me.” She whimpers against his lips, grinding her pussy against his hand. 

“Be my guest.” He says, letting her sit up. 

She grips his length, pumping him a couple times before lining him up. She sinks down onto him, moaning at the stretch. She breathes deeply, pausing for a moment to adjust. It was better than she had imagined. Even if this was only a one time thing, nothing would ever compare to this. 

Except, maybe the other four. Kriff, if Hunter was this well endowed, Wrecker must be huge. She flutters a bit around him, lowering her hands to his stomach to brace herself as she moves. She knows she won’t hold this position long. She’ll get tired before they’re done. 

She starts to move, bouncing on top of him. She takes his hands, moving them to her breasts. “Fuck, Hunter!” She moans, head falling back as the sound of their hips meeting fills the small space. 

He curses, groaning as he squeezes her breasts. “Fucking hell, cyare. So tight, so kriffing warm. So fucking beautiful.” 

She bites her lip at his words, leaning forward a bit so her clit brushes against his pelvis as she grinds against him. “You’re fucking beautiful, Hunter.” She moans. “Fuck, we should have done this sooner.” She moans as he braces his feet against her cot, thrusting up into her. 

Her fingers dig into his pecs, hanging on for dear life as he takes over, fucking up into her. His hands dig into her hips, likely to leave bruises but she doesn’t care. She wants to remember this moment, wants to carry the reminder for as long as she can. 

A pass of his fingers on her clit pushes her over the edge, her entire body going taught like a wire. He watches her, wanting to commit this moment to memory as she comes undone over him, lost entirely in pleasure. He’s far from done with her, but this moment was the one he wanted to remember when they woke up tomorrow morning. 

******

Her head hurts. It’s throbbing painfully. She lifts a hand, rubbing her forehead with her palm. She’s sweaty and hot, uncomfortably so. Was Tech messing with the filtering system again? She lets her head fall back to her pillow, a very obvious smack sounding as she does. 

Reality slams into her like an angry rancor. She was on the Marauder. She was positive of that. She recognized the little cubbyhole that served as her room. There’s a pile of armor on the floor. Black and red, it’s one of the Batch’s. 

Kriff, she’d fucked one of her squadmates. 

She looks around, looking for any sign of who it is. She knows it’s not Tech. The coloring was wrong. Likely not Wrecker either, it was too small. Her eyes land on the red bandanna on her nightstand, a pit forming in her stomach. She closes her eyes, willing it all to be a dream. Willing it all to be some sort of alcohol infused hallucination. That she was still drunk and not laying naked in bed on her squad leader. 

But the warm body under hers doesn't disappear. 

“Hunter?” She asks quietly, voice hoarse with dehydration. 

He grunts, the sound vibrating through her ear. His hand is splayed on her hip, the other tossed up around his head. 

“We fucked, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes. “We fucked a lot.” 

She lets out a shaky breath, not ready to look him in the eye yet. She thinks back, trying to piece together everything that had happened the day before. 

“Do the others...” 

“Yeah. They came back before we were done.” 

She curses, rubbing her face again. She couldn’t even face him, how was she going to face the others? This was it. Her life was over. He was going to force her off the ship, send her back to the office to be reassigned or fired from the GAR. She’d have to descend back into the darkness of the underworld. Her luck had run out. 

“Hey.” Hunter says softly, his fingers gently tracing her spine. His touch is soft, comforting. It almost makes her sick. Or maybe that was the hangover. “Why are you scared?” 

“I don’t know, maybe cause I fucked my squad leader?” 

“I was a willing participant in this as well, in case you forgot.” He wraps his arms around her, holding her still. “I meant what I said. I’ve wanted you for a while now. But I knew my vod also wanted you, and I didn’t want to act on my feelings and cause problems between us.” 

She tilts her head to look up at him, only able to see his chin from her angle. “Good job.” 

He hums, tracing her arm. “I think we need to have a talk.” 

She nods. “Yeah. I think so too.” 

“All of us.” 

She swallows the lump in her throat. “Yeah. All of us.” She turns, finally looking at him. She brushes a curl off his forehead, fingers tracing the half skull tattoo. “I meant what I said too. I was going to tell you that I loved you all, but I guess my drunk brain wanted to jumpstart things.” She tangles her hand in his hair, letting it sit there. “I don’t regret it.” 

“I don’t either.” He says, wrapping his arms around her. “But if this is going to cause issues within the squad-”  

“I know.” She whispers, leaning down to kiss him. “I’m just glad it happened once.” 

*****

It takes them a while to get up. Thankfully they have time today. She knows both of them are trying to figure out how to face the rest of their squad. They had broken basically all the unspoken rules yesterday. Not only that, but she had confessed her attraction to all of them, and then proceeded to fuck Hunter. To be fair, she would have fucked any of them, but Hunter had just been the one that was there. 

Midnight opts for her loungewear, knowing they won’t be leaving the ship for a while. Hunter dresses in his blacks, leaving the rest of his armor on the floor. Once they’re dressed they know they can’t delay any longer, Midnight forcing herself to be brave. She wasn’t getting kicked off the squad. Not directly because of her actions. Though, if the others were upset enough, she may have to consider leaving as the best option. 

They find them in the hull, seated at the table. They’re sitting around with cups of caff, the silence heavy in the air. None of them are looking at each other either, all focused on their cups, or in Tech’s case, the gadget he was working on. 

“We need to have a discussion.” Hunter says, shifting himself into leader mode. 

The squad reacts to the shift, all looking up at him, and subsequently Midnight. She takes a seat at the table, the spot next to Crosshair. At least his cruel remarks would be welcome. She felt she did deserve them right now. Hunter takes the open seat at the head of the table, the silence between them still thick in the air. 

“We need to discuss last night.” He finally says, looking at the other four clones. “And what happened.” 

“Midnight making a drunken fool of herself.” Crosshair says. 

“I was drunk, but I meant what I said.” She snaps back, turning her gaze to the other four clones. “I didn’t want to cause any problems within the squad, make anyone uncomfortable. But it is the truth. I think I could have said it a little better. Maybe not jumped to something so...explicit. I just...wanted to tell you all how much I’d fallen in love with you. All of you. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, but between the pregnancy test and then being back on Coruscant, seeing everything I got to leave behind because of you...I thought I could drink to forget, but it just made me too honest.” 

It’s quiet for a few moments, none of the clones looking at her anymore. 

“Wait, pregnancy test?” Wrecker asks. 

“It’s standard procedure during all physical exams for female GAR employees.” Tech explains. “For reasons like this.” 

Midnight bites her lip, the meaning behind his words not going unnoticed. “I didn’t ever plan on this happening. I never planned on acting on my feelings. I was planning on going home with a ‘reg’ last night. Someone I wouldn’t have to see again.” Her confession has them all shifting in their seats. “Let everything out that way so something like this wouldn’t happen. I never wanted to come between any of you.” 

“I made a dumb decision last night too.” Hunter says, drawing the attention to him. “I took advantage of a situation without taking into consideration anyone else’s feelings. We should have had this discussion first before any of us made any decisions about feelings or acting on them. It’s not fair to any of us, what I did.” 

It’s quiet for too long, even Tech having abandoned his gadget. Tears brim in Midnight’s eyes. She hated that this was her fault. She had been so desperate to forget, so desperate to drown her feelings she lost control, embarrassed herself, and caused a rift between a very close group of clones. She knew how the “regs” viewed them, she’d witnessed it firsthand last night. They were all they had. And here she was, tearing them apart. 

“Where do we go from here?” Echo asks quietly. 

“I’ll leave.” Midnight says. “Go pack up right now and go to the office and ask for a transfer. You’ll never have to see me again.” 

“No!” Wrecker bellows, making them all jump at the sudden noise. “I don’t want you to leave.” He pouts. “I love you too, Night.” 

She gives him a sad smile. “Thanks, Wreck. But I can’t cause any problems in this squad. You rely on each other too much for me to come in and cause rifts like this. I’m the problem. It’s only fair if I remove myself from the equation.” 

“But some equations have multiple variables.” Tech speaks up. “Such as in this case. If we only solve for your variable, the equation won’t work. We have to solve for all variables. Hunter and Wrecker have already voiced their stances. Hunter acted on his repressed feelings for you, but you failed to take into consideration that the rest of us would also share in such a desire.” 

Midnight blinks at Tech. He was right. She had been so focused on thinking the others were jealous because she picked Hunter so easily. Hunter had told her last night he overheard them, noticed how they watched her too. If she could love all five of them, why couldn’t all five of them love her too? 

“We had our conversation last night.” Tech says, adjusting his goggles. “After you and Hunter made your exit. We discussed where we should go from here. At least two of us expressed our interest in following Hunter’s executive decision.” 

Midnight leans her head on her hand, looking at Tech. “You and Wrecker?” 

Tech shrugs, cheeks flushing a little. “I think you’re an...attractive female specimen. I wouldn’t mind conducting some research into female human anatomy with you.” Tech adjusts his goggles again, still looking a bit flustered. 

“Are you...flirting with me?” She asks, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. 

“I think he is.” Hunter says, smiling at his vod. “In his own way.” 

“Don’t expect me to agree to anything.” Crosshair says, sliding his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. 

“Wouldn’t expect you to, Cross.” Midnight says, staring hard at the sniper. She would never admit she was a hair disappointed in his avid opposition to this possible arrangement. 

“I’m not...sure if I can.” Echo says, the last to voice his opinion. 

“That’s okay.” Midnight gives him a small smile. “There’s plenty of ways to go about relationships. I don’t want to make you feel pressured to do more than you’re comfortable with.” She looks over the five clones at the table. “I don’t want anyone to feel pressured into this. I’d rather things happen...organically. I also would have preferred this conversation happening before Hunter and I...slept together. But things happened that we can’t go back on. I’d rather we all take our time, let things progress naturally and not be alcohol induced.” She chews on her lip for a moment, still tender from Hunter last night. “So, we’re really gonna do this?” 

“Hell yes!” Wrecker yells, cheering in victory. 

“Yeah.” Tech says once Wrecker has stopped yelling. 

“You already know my answer.” Hunter says. 

“The option’s there if you decide you want to try.” She says, trying not to single out either Echo or Crosshair. “I’m perfectly happy staying friends. Or...acquaintances.” She does look at Crosshair this time. 

Hunter chuckles. “He’ll come around, cyar’ika.” 

Crosshair glares at Hunter, gripping his toothpick so hard between his teeth, Midnight is scared he might snap it in half. 

“So.” Midnight tries to cut the tension. “Wanna go get breakfast?” 

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Chrome & Leather - Chp 14

Pairings: Billy x OFC, Steve x OFC

Summary: Billy thinks about his frustrations with John missing and Frank seemingly hiding something. What is Frank hiding?

Steve is still enjoying his day with Ben, Jessie, and friends. Jessie and Steve start a nice conversation where she shares some financial news with him that will help him out. With her feelings starting to swirl in her head she makes an awful mistake that has Billy seeing red.

Word Count: 2755

Warnings: Violent thoughts, Thoughts of past violence and death, Family spending time together, brief mention of smut

A/N: Steve edit is by Nix on Instagram. Mood-board by me and dividers by @whimsicalrogers​

A/N 2: Thank you to @lfnr-blog-blog-blog​ for beta reading for me. (any mistakes on spelling & grammar are my own)  

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

To say Billy was pissed off was an understatement. The one person who could tear apart what he worked so hard to have is now in hiding. Billy knew he should have killed John when he had his chance. Hell, people go missing every single day in this country. He had the means to do it and John would have been an easy target. 

Billy thought back to the night that Brock was killed by him. Brock was a loose cannon, someone that he, the infamous Jigsaw, could not get under control. When Billy arrived at that diner and found Jessie cradling Becca, his heart broke and his anger spiked. Jessie was able to mumble out that Brock had done this. Billy had taken in Jessie’s features and could tell the other man had roughed her up. No one touches what is his. It was then he knew what had to be done. His mind started developing a devious plan to get the two most protective men out of Jessie’s life. 

He knew the men were going to want revenge, it was in their nature. So he called John on his burner phone so they could meet. It was easy to bribe John into lying about what happened to Brock and to get him to tag along when they confronted him. He remembers watching Steve and Bucky get out of Jessie’s truck to confront Brock. They beat him to a pulp and left him in the dirt. Once they left Billy drove up to where Brock was laying on the ground. He got out of his SUV and walked over to the beaten man.

Brock looked up at him and chuckled. “Here to give me a helping hand?”

Billy stalked towards the man, his head tilted as he took in his bloody form. Grabbing Brock by the hair he retched his head back exposing his neck. “I told you to never touch Jessie. Since you don’t want to listen, this is where we part ways.” A short knife slipped from Billy’s shirt at his wrist and with a flick of his wrist, he slits Brock's neck open. Blood poured out of Brock and in moments he was dead. Billy dragged the body a short distance and left it in a ditch. Once he had a chance to talk to John the wheels would be in motion to frame Steve and Bucky.

With all good plans, he should have known to cut off the dead limb that was John. Now John is in an undisclosed place under protection until he goes back in front of a judge. Billy should have known better than to hire Frank Castle. Frank is the reason all of this is happening. If Billy could take Frank out maybe this would go away. Unfortunately, Frank had a reputation for dealing with bad guys, something that both scared him and yet he admired.

Walking into the Sheriff's department Billy walked over to where Franks was sitting. “Good afternoon, Frank. Any word on where John Walker is being held? I heard the man cut a deal with the D.A.''

Frank sat back in his chair and smiled at Billy. “You know Bill, once I got the feds involved they swooped in and disappeared. Even if I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell you so why are you interested?”

“I’m interested as this has to do with a murder in our town. If something has changed, which it has since James and Steve are out of jail, I have the right to know as I’m the damn Sheriff!” Billy was seething that Frank would know more than him in this case.

Frank sat forward, leaning against his desk, and wrote a phone number. “I’m not hiding anything Bill. Here is the number of the feds in charge. If you have concerns, call them.”

Billy snatched the paper from Frank and turned on his heel, heading to his office. Once inside he slammed the door shut. Billy let out a frustrated breath as he tried to weigh his options on his next move. 

Jessie made it clear when he went to talk with her at Winnie’s place that she was going to allow Ben to get to know both men. When he voiced his displeasure she rolled her eyes at him and told him she was Ben's parent not him. That phrase alone made him want to slap her across her face but there were too many eyes on them. For now, he will let that slide. Billy has too much to lose and he needs to start calling his crew in for help but at the moment he was going to call the feds.

Jessie’s nerves were on edge after her talk with Steve. How dare he ask if she still had feelings for him? After everything, he put her through. Her eyes looked out the window in front of her and she watched Ben cruising on his electric bike. Steve was watching him proudly. She remembered Ben meeting him and calling Steve a bear because of his beard. A chuckle escaped her lips at the thought of it. 

What was she kidding? Jessie deep down inside had feelings for Steve still but it was complicated now. She moved on just like he told her to do. Now she was engaged to Billy and spent almost every day with him since her pregnancy. She couldn’t just break up with him cause Steve waltzed back into her life. Right?

She didn’t hold onto hope as Natasha did. She looked towards Bucky and Nat who were holding hands as they watched their nephew play. Life wasn’t simple for her as it was for them. They would be able to pick up where they left off and start anew. Something she will never get the chance to do with Steve, it was just too late for them. 

Tears fell from her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing. It didn’t help anything that Billy showed up and started to question her decision for this reunion. Yes, she said something she shouldn’t have but she was angry. Angry at Steve, angry at Billy, and mainly angry at life. Why couldn’t she have something normal in her life? Ben deserves stability. Now it is going to be filled with visitations with Steve and a life with Billy. 

Pushing those thoughts aside Jessie wiped the tears away and put on a brave face as she headed back outside with everyone else.

The day seemed to pass quickly as the sun started to set. Jessie watched as Ben played with Steve and Bucky throughout the day. The little boy's giggles made her heart happy to hear. Who knew Ben would take to both his dad and uncle so quickly? It was like they were never separated and making up for the lost time. Now with the sun setting the group of family and friends sitting around the bonfire talked amongst each other. Ben was currently in Steve’s lap and nodding off. Jessie smiled at the pair as this was what she always had wanted, a complete family. Though she knew this was not her reality. 

A cool breeze sent a shiver down her back and she knew it was time for them to leave. Jessie got up from her chair and made her way over to Steve.

“As much as I don’t want to break this up, we need to be going. I don’t want Ben to get chilled.” Jessie looked down at Ben who was now sleeping and curled up against Steve’s chest. 

Steve looked between Jessie and his son nodding in agreement. He stood up holding Ben close as Jessie said goodbye to Winnie and Bucky. Once she waved goodbye to the club members Steve carried Ben and followed her to her vehicle. Jessie unlocked the doors and watched as Steve gently put him in his car seat and then seat-belted him in. The little boy let out soft snores as they closed the door.

Steve cleared his throat and spoke. “Thank you for letting me spend time with him today. It means a lot that you gave me this time even though you could have said no.” His hand awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. 

Jessie smiled at him as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “How could I say no? You’re Ben's dad and have every right to see him. Ben deserves to know you as well.”

“I’m honestly surprised Ben doesn’t call Billy dad. I mean Billy has been in his life more than I have.” Steve started to fidget as he spoke. This is something he dreaded.

Jessie shook her head no and placed a hand over his heart. “Steve, no matter what has happened between us you will always be Ben’s dad. I’ve been telling him stories of you since he was a baby. I’ve shown him pictures as well. That’s why he knew who you and Bucky were. But Billy is just a friend to Ben. Yes, he helped raise our son while you were gone but that’s it. With you back, you can help me with Ben as much as you like, no pressure.”

Steve fought back tears at what Jessie said. “I would like that very much. I want to help you in any way I can. Child support, outings with Ben, you name it and it’s done.”

“Speaking of child support I wanted to let you know I have a separate bank account that I was putting your check in every month. I only took what I needed but there is a lot left over for you to use and have so you can get a place of your own. We can meet tomorrow and have the account put in your name.” 

“I don’t know what to say, Jessie. Are you sure you don’t need it? That money was meant for you.” Steve questioned.

“I promise I don’t. Between Becca’s life insurance money that I still have and working part-time, I have plenty to my name. We can figure out child support another day. I should get Ben home and into bed. If he doesn’t get enough sleep he is a monster the next morning.”

Steve opened the driver's door for her and Jessie smiled at him. 

“Thank you.” Jessie smiled at him as she hopped up into her truck and once she was in Steve closed the door.

He watched as she started the vehicle and slowly backed down the driveway. He had to admit watching the woman he loves and his kid driving away pulled at his heart. Once the truck was out of sight he rejoined his friends.

They spent the next hour talking amongst themselves catching Steve and Bucky up on club business. The club was still doing charity events to raise money for different charities. The next one coming up was for the fall festival, so the women would be baking pies and other desserts to sell. 

They also spoke about the mechanic shop and how well it’s been doing. Nat was dealing with orders and income with Tony while the rest of the guys ran the garage. Nat told Steve she did what he asked and cut a check every two weeks to help Jessie raise Ben. That Steve was grateful for. The last thing he ever wanted was Jessie struggling to raise his son. 

Once ten o’clock rolled around everyone was soon parting ways for the night. Steve watched as his friends left and he made his way inside Winnie’s house for the night. Thankfully she had insisted on him staying until he got some income so he could get himself a place. 

He made his way up to the spare room and changed into PJ pants. Climbing into bed he got comfortable on his back and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t believe Jessie made a bank account with him in mind. Maybe she held onto hope deep down inside that he would be released. Though if that was the case why would she have moved on with Billy? No matter the relationship Steve was determined to win back his family.

Once Jessie got home she carried Ben upstairs and changed him into PJs. She got him into his bed and gently kissed his head. Thankfully he never woke up as she exited his room. Jessie made her way to her shared bedroom and got ready for bed. When she was finally done she crawled into bed alone. She could help but stare at her ceiling and think about the day she had. Spending time with Bucky and friends was one thing but having Steve around well she couldn’t help but smile. It’s like he had never been gone for five years when they talked. Then him being so attentive to Ben, well she would be lying if she said it didn’t melt her heart. Ben had loved spending time with Steve and Bucky. If only things were different and she waited for Steve. They could have been a family again. But now things were too late because she is with Billy. She couldn’t just walk away, right? A sigh escaped her lips again as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Warm lips kissed the back of Jessie’s neck. The feeling of a beard made her groan in her half-sleepy state. Fingers caressed her body from breasts to between her legs and softly started to rub her clit. She moaned against the pillow as the fingers rubbed her faster. God this felt so good. Jessie couldn’t help as she panted more and more until she finally moaned out “Steve I need more.”

The fingers halted immediately and she huffed her frustration, slowly opening her eyes. She looked at the man above her and stared into brown eyes. It was Billy.

“Oh my God, Billy I-I’m so sorry.”

Billy stared at her angrily and threw the covers off of him. He got out of bed and looked back at her. “I can’t believe you moaned another man’s name! His name of all people! What did you whore yourself out last night?”

Jessie sat up in bed looking at him with hurt in her eyes. “How could you think that of me? What I did was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Billy said with venom in his voice. “That wasn’t a mistake. Calling out another man’s name is fucking betrayal. I don’t have time for this. I need to shower and get to work.” Billy stormed off into the bathroom.

Fuck, she screwed up. Why did her mind think of Steve? She has never done that before. Jessie looked at the clock and it read 5 A.M. This was not how she wanted to start her day. She climbed out of bed and made her way downstairs. Entering the kitchen she started the coffee. Soon Ben would be up to start his day and she needed her coffee fix. Twenty minutes later she was on her second cup when Billy came down the stairs. 

“I fixed coffee if you want some.” Jessie softly told him.

“I will get some at the Sheriff's office. I will be working late again so don’t wait up for me.” Billy refused to look at her as he grabbed his keys and left.

Jessie couldn’t help but let the tears flow. She screwed up this morning. After a few minutes of crying, Jessie heard the familiar sound of Ben coming down the stairs. She quickly wiped the tears away just as Ben entered the kitchen.

“Morning mama!” Ben said as he ran over to her and hugged her legs.

“Morning Ben. What would you like for breakfast?”

“Pancakes!” He loudly answered.

“Of course you do. Go sit down and I’ll make you some.” Ben and his pancakes made her smile. Today she is going to focus on Ben and meeting up with Steve later at the bank. She would worry about Billy later and how to deal with what happened.

Tagging:

@americasass81

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@caffiend-queen

@denisemarieangelina

@georgiapeach30513

@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jvanilly

@labella420

@mdemontespan1667

@mrsmischief209

@nekoannie-chan

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@wolfsmom1

@what-is-your-plan-today

@writercole

@cevansgurl

[samstwilightzone]

I don't think I can properly articulate my sheer dislike for someone like Lilly Orchard, videos upon videos have been made on her, exposing her as an awful person- and yet the fans (who she oh-so-carefully groomed) that stick to her have yet to wake up. She does not deserve her platform. It really gives me a visceral reaction thinking about how such people are not getting de-platformed. One of the worst parts is, that she probably doesn't even appreciate or even likes her fans. I'd beg to say she hates them. Wake up LO fans, your tyrannical queen hates your guts (especially if your opinion is different from her RIGHT one). Especially if you like a piece of media she does not.

Lilly Orchard is a selfish, fascistic, hypocritical, tone-deaf, illiterate (seriously, how can she call herself a media critic when she doesn't understand anything more complex than children's media- and even then she misses the mark, she cannot handle nuance or complex topics), ableist, and straight-up abusive individual. People like her frustrate me to my core- when common sense is not in the room, people like Lilly Orchard are.

I saw her "objective retrospective" of the mainline Pokemon games (my special interest), as well as her Dungeon Meshi review, and I was on the brink of "tearing my hair out holy shit this is bad" as Lilly misses the point, again, and again, and again. It was like having your face bludgeoned by the hammer of utter ignorance. On another note. We know you wrote Stocklom Lilly, we know you groomed countless minors on the internet, we know you shipped a real-life minor and adult together and then doubled down when you got called out, we know what you Lilly is in her 30's, and yet, she persists in being one of the most childish, vile, crude and bigoted individuals. People like her should not be looked up to, and I look forward to the day her fans grow up and realise who Lilly is- is not an example of what a good human being is supposed to act like. She's not even halfway decent.

I know it's stupid to talk about this again... but this is so missed up.. I posted this hours ago thinking it would never been seen by Lily herself.The reason why it upsets me more than normal, is because in elementary school I used to watch Lily Orchards videos, and just yesterday I learned about all the stuff she wrote about ( in stalkhome and ect) I made the post joking about how they same name as me, it was ment to be that a joke. I feel like the little kid me who watched Lily growing up is more hurt than she was before. Again I'm sorry to talk about this, but this actually has me crying rn