#But of course avoid buying those don't give them more demand

[s1llybug-old]

listening to a human's touch by twrp right now and feeling very emotional. does anyone else ever think about how things are built to be replaced now as opposed to being built to last. does anyone else think about how we took away their buttons. about how we ripped out a printer's wires to give it an app that barely works. does anyone else ever think that it never wanted to be a caricature of it's former self. does anyone else think about how we needed technology and now it needs us and we cant give it the help that it needs. does anyone else think about how it's never enough and it's almost too much and for them to work they need a human's touch-

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The one weird monopoly trick that gave us Walmart and Amazon and killed Main Street

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Walmart didn't just happen. The rise of Walmart – and Amazon, its online successor – was the result of a specific policy choice, the decision by the Reagan administration not to enforce a key antitrust law. Walmart may have been founded by Sam Walton, but its success (and the demise of the American Main Street) are down to Reaganomics.

The law that Reagan neutered? The Robinson-Patman Act, a very boring-sounding law that makes it illegal for powerful companies (like Walmart) to demand preferential pricing from their suppliers (farmers, packaged goods makers, meat producers, etc). The idea here is straightforward. A company like Walmart is a powerful buyer (a "monopsonist" – compare with "monopolist," a powerful seller). That means that they can demand deep discounts from suppliers. Smaller stores – the mom and pop store on your Main Street – don't have the clout to demand those discounts. Worse, because those buyers are weak, the sellers – packaged goods companies, agribusiness cartels, Big Meat – can actually charge them more to make up for the losses they're taking in selling below cost to Walmart.

Reagan ordered his antitrust cops to stop enforcing Robinson-Patman, which was a huge giveaway to big business. Of course, that's not how Reagan framed it: He called Robinson-Patman a declaration of "war on low prices," because it prevented big companies from using their buying power to squeeze huge discounts. Reagan's court sorcerers/economists asserted that if Walmart could get goods at lower prices, they would sell goods at lower prices.

Which was true…up to a point. Because preferential discounting (offering better discounts to bigger customers) creates a structural advantage over smaller businesses, it meant that big box stores would eventually eliminate virtually all of their smaller competitors. That's exactly what happened: downtowns withered, suburban big boxes grew. Spending that would have formerly stayed in the community was whisked away to corporate headquarters. These corporate HQs were inevitably located in "onshore-offshore" tax haven states, meaning they were barely taxed at the state level. That left plenty of money in these big companies' coffers to spend on funny accountants who'd help them avoid federal taxes, too. That's another structural advantage the big box stores had over the mom-and-pops: not only did they get their inventory at below-cost discounts, they didn't have to pay tax on the profits, either.

MBA programs actually teach this as a strategy to pursue: they usually refer to Amazon's "flywheel" where lower prices bring in more customers which allows them to demand even lower prices:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaSwWYemLek

You might have heard about rural and inner-city "food deserts," where all the independent grocery stores have shuttered, leaving behind nothing but dollar stores? These are the direct product of the decision not to enforce Robinson-Patman. Dollar stores target working class neighborhoods with functional, beloved local grocers. They open multiple dollar stores nearby (nearly all the dollar stores you see are owned by one of two conglomerates, no matter what the sign over the door says). They price goods below cost and pay for high levels of staffing, draining business off the community grocery store until it collapses. Then, all the dollar stores except one close and the remaining store fires most of its staff (working at a dollar store is incredibly dangerous, thanks to low staffing levels that make them easy targets for armed robbers). Then, they jack up prices, selling goods in "cheater" sizes that are smaller than the normal retail packaging, and which are only made available to large dollar store conglomerates:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/27/walmarts-jackals/#cheater-sizes

Writing in The American Prospect, Max M Miller and Bryce Tuttle1 – a current and a former staffer for FTC Commissioner Alvaro Bedoya – write about the long shadow cast by Reagan's decision to put Robinson-Patman in mothballs:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-08-13-stopping-excessive-market-power-monopoly/

They tell the story of Robinson-Patman's origins in 1936, when A&P was using preferential discounts to destroy the independent grocery sector and endanger the American food system. A&P didn't just demand preferential discounts from its suppliers; it also charged them a fortune to be displayed on its shelves, an early version of Amazon's $38b/year payola system:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

They point out that Robinson-Patman didn't really need to be enacted; America already had an antitrust law that banned this conduct: section 2 of the the Clayton Act, which was passed in 1914. But for decades, the US courts refused to interpret the Clayton Act according to its plain meaning, with judges tying themselves in knots to insist that the law couldn't possibly mean what it said. Robinson-Patman was one of a series of antitrust laws that Congress passed in a bid to explain in words so small even federal judges could understand them that the purpose of American antitrust law was to keep corporations weak:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

Both the Clayton Act and Robinson-Patman reject the argument that it's OK to let monopolies form and come to dominate critical sectors of the American economy based on the theoretical possibility that this will lead to lower prices. They reject this idea first as a legal matter. We don't let giant corporations victimize small businesses and their suppliers just because that might help someone else.

Beyond this, there's the realpolitik of monopoly. Yes, companies could pass lower costs on to customers, but will they? Look at Amazon: the company takes $0.45-$0.51 out of every dollar that its sellers earn, and requires them to offer their lowest price on Amazon. No one has a 45-51% margin, so every seller jacks up their prices on Amazon, but you don't notice it, because Amazon forces them to jack up prices everywhere else:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/01/managerial-discretion/#junk-fees

The Robinson-Patman Act did important work, and its absence led to many of the horribles we're living through today. This week on his Peoples & Things podcast, Lee Vinsel talked with Benjamin Waterhouse about his new book, One Day I’ll Work for Myself: The Dream and Delusion That Conquered America:

https://athenaeum.vt.domains/peoplesandthings/2024/08/12/78-benjamin-c-waterhouse-on-one-day-ill-work-for-myself-the-dream-and-delusion-that-conquered-america/

Towards the end of the discussion, Vinsel and Waterhouse turn to Robinson-Patman, its author, Wright Patman, and the politics of small business in America. They point out – correctly – that Wright Patman was something of a creep, a "Dixiecrat" (southern Democrat) who was either an ideological segregationist or someone who didn't mind supporting segregation irrespective of his beliefs.

That's a valid critique of Wright Patman, but it's got little bearing on the substance and history of the law that bears his name, the Robinson-Patman Act. Vinsel and Waterhouse get into that as well, and while they made some good points that I wholeheartedly agreed with, I fiercely disagree with the conclusion they drew from these points.

Vinsel and Waterhouse point out (again, correctly) that small businesses have a long history of supporting reactionary causes and attacking workers' rights – associations of small businesses, small women-owned business, and small minority-owned businesses were all in on opposition to minimum wages and other key labor causes.

But while this is all true, that doesn't make Robinson-Patman a reactionary law, or bad for workers. The point of protecting small businesses from the predatory practices of large firms is to maintain an American economy where business can't trump workers or government. Large companies are literally ungovernable: they have gigantic war-chests they can spend lobbying governments and corrupting the political process, and concentrated sectors find it comparatively easy to come together to decide on a single lobbying position and then make it reality.

As Vinsel and Waterhouse discuss, US big business has traditionally hated small business. They recount a notorious and telling anaecdote about the editor of the Chamber of Commerce magazine asking his boss if he could include coverage of small businesses, given the many small business owners who belonged to the Chamber, only to be told, "Over my dead body." Why did – why does – big business hate small business so much? Because small businesses wreck the game. If they are included in hearings, notices of inquiry, or just given a vote on what the Chamber of Commerce will lobby for with their membership dollars, they will ask for things that break with the big business lobbying consensus.

That's why we should like small business. Not because small business owners are incapable of being petty tyrants, but because whatever else, they will be petty. They won't be able to hire million-dollar-a-month union-busting law-firms, they won't be able to bribe Congress to pass favorable laws, they can't capture their regulators with juicy offers of sweet jobs after their government service ends.

Vinsel and Waterhouse point out that many large firms emerged during the era in which Robinson-Patman was in force, but that misunderstands the purpose of Robinson-Patman: it wasn't designed to prevent any large businesses from emerging. There are some capital-intensive sectors (say, chip fabrication) where the minimum size for doing anything is pretty damned big.

As Miller and Tuttle write:

The goal of RPA was not to create a permanent Jeffersonian agrarian republic of exclusively small businesses. It was to preserve a diverse economy of big and small businesses. Congress recognized that the needs of communities and people—whether in their role as consumers, business owners, or workers—are varied and diverse. A handful of large chains would never be able to meet all those needs in every community, especially if they are granted pricing power.

The fight against monopoly is only secondarily a fight between small businesses and giant ones. It's foundationally a fight about whether corporations should have so much power that they are too big to fail, too big to jail, and too big to care.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/14/the-price-is-wright/#enforcement-priorities

[puptrefied]

FLUFFY REQUESSSTTT caitlyn x reader who has a really bad nightmare :(( OR caitlyn x flower shop owner reader who is like the Sweetest person ever and has been giving flowers to the kiramman family for a while, and caitlyn has the biggest soft spot for her? Idk 😔

　she hadn’t even reached the flower stand yet, but caitlyn could already feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, her heart skipping at the sight of you. the way you moved around the stand—focused and effortlessly beautiful—made her stomach twist in the best way. As she walked, she smoothed out the fabric of her uniform skirt and adjusted her enforcer’s helmet, determined to look professional.

( pls pls pls notice the dedication she has. )

“good morning,” the young enforcer said softly, clearing her throat to avoid startling you. blue eyes observing the vibrant flowers and the decorative plastic hummingbirds swaying in the breeze. everything in your stand was meticulous, full of care, and it only made you more captivating.

“oh morning, cait,” you greeted her with a warm smile and her stomach did fifteen consecutive backflips in five seconds. It was a simple gesture, but it hit her harder than it should have. breathe, girl. just breathe.

“working already?” you asked, casually adjusting a flowerpot.

“mhm,” she replied, her voice steady despite her nerves. “I see you’re also starting early. more demand than usual, I suppose?” she already knew the answer; every bloom here was burned into her memory from her countless visits to your shop.

“I like peonies,” caitlyn added, fingertips brushing the petals of one of them as if it was made of the most delicate glass, trying to avoid damaging it. she couldn't bear the thought of the girl she was interested in ( loved is a strong word... but it also fits. ) being mad.

“It’s their season,” the excitement in your tone doesn't go unnoticed, it makes caitlyn melt a little—the way you care so deeply about your job and the plants is just so sweet she feels something tugging at her heartstrings. she quickly mimicked your smile at the way you lifted one of the flowerpots motioning for her to smell, she couldn’t help but lean in, inhaling the soft, fresh scent.

“nice, isn’t it?”

she nodded, keeping her eyes closed for a second longer. eye contact with you felt almost too much, too intimate, and she didn’t trust herself. “could I buy one? I’ll come back after the ceremony to pick it up—they’d look lovely in my bedroom.”

...buy?

you tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing slightly as if her words confused you. “you know you can just take one, right?”

her family had been using your flowers for events and just decorating for months now, why should she ask for permission?

“no no, please, let me pay,” she insisted quickly, shaking her head. she had more than enough to buy the entire stand if she wanted to so of course she would pay! don't be silly.

“It’s progress day and you’re you. consider it a gift.”

Her pulse quickened at the way you said "you’re you." —did it mean she's as special to you as you are for her?—she wanted to grab that annoyingly gorgeous face of yours and kiss you breathless, but instead, she just laughed softly, shaking her head once more.

“you’re stubborn, you know that?” she teased, her voice warm and light.

“maybe,” you shot back playfully, “but if you insist on paying, I’ll be deeply offended, kiramman.”

caitlyn found herself grinning again, hopelessly smitten by those eyes that stared back at hers. god, she has to kiss you even if it's just once by the end of the day or she'll regret not making a move.

masterlist

[slaymitchabernathy]

Off to the Races

| "...who else is gonna put up with me this way? i need you, i breathe you, i never leave you. they would rue the day i was alone without you...and we're off to the races, places, ready, set, the gate is down and now we're going in..." |

| this drabble contains sexual content ;) |

The August heat is blistering for those who walk the Capitol streets.

Coriolanus almost pities them while his family's car drives past them towards the arena. Today is the fourth of August, and every year since he can remember, the Snows attend the horse races on this day. It's an excellent way for the wealthy to flaunt their money and for the poor to watch them do it.

The sunny day will be filled with champagne, conversations, betting, eating, racing, and of course, winning.

He sits across from his parents, his mother's hand rests on his father's forearm, sweet and submissive as he's always known her to be. Her hat is quite loud in his opinion, red to match her dress with a peacock feather sticking out of it. But he won't be the one to comment on his mother's fashion choices.

He's smarter than that.

The Snows sit quietly as the car rolls to a stop near the South entrance, also known as the entrance for those who can afford to buy a box. The poor people come through the North entrance.

"Remember darling, smile," mother reminds him, drawing her fingers up her cheeks as an example. Coriolanus nods, keeping a neutral expression, he's taken after his father in that regard, rarely smiling whereas his mother never stops. She's rich and doesn't have to work, he would be smiling all the time too.

But Coriolanus has a reputation to uphold as he begins his last year at the Academy, top of his class, more popular than ever, and the one person you don't want to mess with.

Smiling does not convey the message he wishes to be received by the general public.

Besides, he's seen the way people respect his father, how they move out of the way for him to pass by, how they duck their heads and avoid eye contact. If that's what not smiling can get him, then he's on the right track.

"Just watch how much you drink," is all father says before the driver opens the car door for them. Coriolanus steps out after his mother, shielding his eyes with his hand as the sun beats down on him. It's a beautiful day for the races, with not a cloud in the sky.

"Come along darling," mother trills, already walking up the carpeted steps with father. Coriolanus follows after his parents, keeping his head held high as they enter the arena. Coriolanus has undoubtedly taken after his father in looks, wearing the same blond curls, blue eyes and tall stature. They take up room and demand to be respected.

They make their way to the staircase that leads to the upper levels and private boxes, he can already hear the chatter and excitement from down here.

"Oh, there's the Creeds," mother points with a gloved hand, "and the Cardews!" Coriolanus sighs, he was hoping that Livia Cardew might not show up today, but with the races being so close to the beginning of the school year, she'd be a fool to miss it.

People will be talking about it at lunch on the first day back, no doubt.

Which means he ought to make the most of today.

He separates from his parents once they reach the top of the stairs, each member of their small family going their own way. Mother goes to her friends, and father to his, leaving Coriolanus to approach his classmates who have already arrived, Festus, Livia, and Lysisistrata Vickers.

He nods politely at the girls and gives Festus a firm handshake, "Rolling in fashionably late Snow," Festus notes with a smirk, "we thought you might not make it."

Coriolanus shakes his head, eyeing the table in front of him which has all sorts of cheeses, crackers, grapes, and meats, a lovely spread to snack on while they wait for the races to begin. "Of course not," he answers, snatching a cracker or two, "you know how we are, and mother needed to find a bird to strangle for her new hat."

The girls laugh at his joke, feeding into his ego. Coriolanus is well liked amongst his peers, especially the girls, but he hasn't really taken a particular interest in any of them. Livia is plain rude, an insufferable creature at times, so he could never court her.

Lyssie is nice, too nice for him, he'd never make her happy.

There's Persephone, but she and Festus have this unspoken thing that's been going on for quite some time now. He knows better than to get in the middle of that mix.

Clemensia Dovecote is one of the prettier girls in their grade, but she can be quite scary when she wants to be with her sharp words and even sharper nails, always manicured to perfection though.

Then there's Io Jasper, Didi Ring, Domitia Whimsiwick, Arachne Crane, surely he's forgetting someone but then again, they must not be that important if he can't even be bothered to remember their name in the first place.

No, best to go this year alone.

"My mother won't stop yammering about how this will be the last race I attend as an Academy student," Festus gripes, sipping a glass of posca, "she acts as if I won't be attending next year."

Livia sighs, scanning the room filled with the elite Capitolites, "It's a bit exciting though, isn't it? Next year we'll officially be adults, able to place bets without our parents, drink without limits." Coriolanus refrains from rolling his eyes at Livia's childish way of viewing adulthood. If betting and drinking are all she's looking forward to, then her father better prepare to be bankrupt before the year is over.

They chat about meaningless things for a little while longer, like who their teachers will be, who might start dating who, what they plan on studying once they go to the University.

The thought of the University somewhat worries Coriolanus, who has grown used to his small pool of familiar classmates. The Academy's tuition is the priciest in the city, only the richest families send their children there. But anyone who can pay their way into the University is allowed to attend, and that worries him greatly.

What forlorn creatures will be crawling out of the dark corners of the Capitol next year to seek a higher education? And will he be forced to sit next to them? To learn next to them? To treat them as equals?

He doesn't think so.

He glances around the large room, there are lots of young people his age serving as waiters and waitresses, will they be in his class next year? Will they think they're of the same descent as he is from?

Coriolanus is a Snow, and he'll be treated as such.

A trumpet sounds, alerting the attendees that the races will begin in ten minutes.

"We're in the box to your right," Festus tells him as they all begin making their way to their private boxes, "who are you betting on this time?"

Coriolanus bites back a grin, locking eyes with his father, "No chance I'm telling you Creed."

Festus lets out a defeated sigh, the Creeds have never had good luck at these things, "May the best horse win then." Coriolanus nods, "Good luck."

He joins his family in their box, filled with sofas, tables, a buffet, Avoxes to tend to their every need, and most importantly, air conditioning.

Coriolanus walks up to the balcony, gazing down at the poor people in the seats below him, fanning themselves with informative pamphlets. How pathetic.

Mother comes to stand beside him, holding her small binoculars, "Oh, there's our horse! Lucky Number Seven!" She's exaggerating really, it's not their horse but the Snows have always bet on the same number each year, and they've also won every year.

Snow always lands on top.

Mother leans over the railing, looking over to their right where the Creeds are also looking down at the crowd and then to their left, where an empty box remains. Or so he thought.

Mother lets out such a sharp gasp that both Coriolanus and his father jump, "There's the Nightingales! Goodness, they rarely ever show at these things, I wonder what's brought them out today."

Father rises from the sofa after recovering from mother's dramatic gasp, looking over the small wall that stands at about four feet, dividing each box where Glen Nightingale has appeared, making a surprise appearance.

A few murmurs pass through the boxes, rarely does Glen Nightingale show up to these sorts of things, unless...ugh. Coriolanus feels his jaw tick when he sees her, wearing a dress she probably bought just for this with gloves to match.

Soarynn Nightingale, Glen's only daughter, and the only one who could get him to come to something like this.

If Coriolanus is the King of the Academy, then she'd be the Queen. The only problem is, they can't stand each other. He can't tolerate her sweet, sugary personality, acting like she's the Capitol's darling with her long blonde hair and perfect skin. She's got everyone wrapped around her finger, students and staff included.

He truly believes that he's the only one who hasn't fallen for her false personality.

As if proving his point, mother abandons her own family to run over to the edge of their box, waving Soarynn and Glen over with her gloved hand. It's fitting that mother would adore Soarynn, always fussing over her at these events, always talking about how lucky her future husband will be whilst simultaneously jabbing Coriolanus in the ribs.

He sees what she's putting down, but he's not picking it up.

Soarynn and Glen make their way over to mother, and Coriolanus and father do the same, it would be bad manners to ignore them.

It's funny to see the two richest families in Panem clashing like this, making small talk as if they don't have great influence on this country. Father has made his fortune in the Capitol, whereas Glen has made his in the Districts, pitting them against one another business-wise.

Coriolanus had always thought it meant there would be animosity between them, that his father would hate Glen, but instead, he found that his father respected the man a great deal.

"He's provided for my family the same way I have," he once told Coriolanus when he asked about it, "and I'd be a fool to create bad blood between our families. Never burn a bridge you might have to walk back over someday son."

Coriolanus had been younger when he heard that from his father, not understanding what bridge he was referring to. But now, as he comes face to face with Soarynn, it's clear that they are the bridge, and all he has to do is marry her.

"Soarynn," he greets her with a fake smile, "how lovely to see you."

Soarynn returns his smile with her own, flashing her pearly whites up at him as she gazes into his eyes, "I was going to say the same thing to you Coriolanus, my, my how you've grown over the summer. You might just be as tall as your father by now."

His eye twitches but mother is quick to shove her way into their conversation, resting her hand on Soarynn's cheek, "Oh, you look so beautiful today darling, absolutely beautiful. Doesn't she Crassus?"

Father grunts, always a man of few words, "Looks just like her mother."

From what Coriolanus has heard, Cera Nightingale was an absolute vision. She was so beautiful that she had her pick of the litter and according to Mrs. Creed, who was once very drunk, Cera turned down Crassus Snow's advances towards her and instead, chose to court Glen Nightingale.

Coriolanus sometimes wonders what his father feels when he looks at Soarynn. Does he see the daughter he never had? Does he see the woman he once loved? Does he feel pity or envy when it comes to Glen who lost a wife but gained a daughter in the process?

To Coriolanus, it's clear who won the battle. Father has a son and a wife, both alive, both happy. Meanwhile, Glen is all alone, never choosing to remarry. But perhaps he's happier than some who are married with children. He certainly seems to enjoy his daughter's company, enjoys it enough to make a public appearance with her.

Soarynn smiles sweetly at father, "Thank you both, we just had to come and see the races today, didn't we father?"

Glen nods, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose, "Soarynn hasn't stopped pestering me about it for weeks, and I figured a little fresh air couldn't hurt." Mother nods in agreement, fanning herself from the exertion this conversation has caused her, "Well, it is the event of the season. Will you be placing any bets today, Glen?"

Coriolanus takes a moment to survey Soarynn's outfit for today. She chose to forgo the hat, pinning up her long wavy hair into a fashionable updo, showing off her pearl earrings she's always been so fond of.

Not that he ever notices these types of things.

For her dress, well, he hates to admit how fashionable it looks on her slender figure. It's white, perfectly tailored around her waist with sleeves that stop at her shoulders and the skirt stops right above her knees. The lapels of the dress are ironed to a crisp and the buttons stop right where she's able to show off a classy amount of cleavage.

Anymore and she'd look like a harlot.

She's paired her outfit with white heels and white mesh gloves that show off her golden rings and freshly painted nails.

As much as he can't stand her, he has to admit, the girl knows how to dress.

She catches him looking and a cruel smirk grows across her glossy lips. Soarynn has always been aware of how much he dislikes her. The feeling is mutual and it only feeds into his hatred more and more each day.

"I am betting on Number Six," Soarynn proclaims in a haughty tone, causing Coriolanus to scoff.

"You are going to place a bet?" He asks, unable to believe that this girl knows the first thing about handling money, "Do you even know how this works?" Mother immediately reaches over to pinch his arm but Coriolanus anticipates it and dodges her attack, "I'm serious," he says, looking around at everyone, "what do...what do women know about horse races?"

If Soarynn wasn't mad before, she's furious now, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

"If you can do it then it clearly can't be that hard," she fires back, causing both their fathers to chuckle. "Ah, young love," Glen muses, resting a hand on his daughter's shoulder, "we should sit down honey, get you something to drink."

Soarynn shoots Coriolanus one more nasty glare before following her father to one of the sofas, Coriolanus returns it with his own glare, he does not like that girl one bit.

"Really Coriolanus? You had to bring gender into it?" Mother asks with a huff, but he doesn't feel bad, not when it's with her, that prissy little primadona who always gets what she wants.

It's high time she learned that Snow always lands on top.

Even if it means Nightingale falls to the bottom.

꧁ ꧂

The beginning of the races is always the most boring, there's always some sort of delay, some lunatic running onto the track or a horse suddenly falling ill.

Good for the tabloids, bad for the people who showed up in person under this sweltering heat. Coriolanus feels even better than everyone else sitting high and mighty in his family’s box, cool as a cucumber whilst munching on sliced cucumbers.

He looks to his right where Festus is already getting properly drunk. He then looks to his left where Soarynn is rising from the sofa, empty champagne glass in hand. She hands it to an Avox before saying something to her father, vaguely gesturing to the door before leaving her box.

Coriolanus follows her as far as his obscured view will allow him to. She must have gone to the bathroom. He finishes off his own drink, whiskey, since his father slipped him one when mother wasn’t looking. She’s too preoccupied gossiping with Mrs. Creed, leaning over the wall that serves as a barricade for the boxes.

She might as well hop over to their side and make herself at home.

With no one actively paying attention to him, he decides to slip out as well, beelining for the bathrooms.

Some people enjoy the finger foods and air conditioning that these private boxes provide.

Others enjoy what really matters when it comes to these events: the private bathrooms.

They’re not enormous by any means, but they’re clean, cool, and are rooms instead of stalls. An entire hallway is lined with them, half for the men, half for the women. Coriolanus has found that there’s always a line for the women, he’ll never know why and he’ll never want to take their place either.

They probably spend too much time gossiping and obsessing over themselves in the mirror.

Nevertheless, he begins walking down the hallway, pulling on each door handle, disappointed when the doors swing right open. Perhaps he misjudged the situation, perhaps she went somewhere else, perhaps…oh, what’s this? The last door is locked.

He bites back a grin and knocks once, then twice, then once again.

The door swings open and he stares down at a very agitated looking Soarynn Nightingale, even in heels she’s shorter than him. “It’s about fucking time,” she huffs, grabbing him by the tie and dragging him into the bathroom with her.

Coriolanus laughs, she can act all high and mighty in front of their friends and family, but deep down, he knows she’s a simple minded girl with simple minded desires.

She wants to be fucked and he’s the only one who thinks he can properly do it.

Despite their roaring sexual chemistry, Coriolanus has managed to hold off any actual feelings for the girl since they started this entire sexual affair six months ago. It all started out so casually, a heated kiss in the empty hallway, grabbing her in the library, groping him in the courtyard.

One thing led to another, clothes came off, lips found one another, and…he’s trying his best to be good, to be cold and distant and act like this isn’t the best sex he’s ever had in his life.

But it’s hard. It’s so fucking hard because she’s so fucking tight, and flexible, so perfect for him. She’s so soft, she smells so good, and she takes such good care of herself. He didn’t even know it was possible to be this hairless but she’s managed to pull it off, doing it flawlessly every time.

And she gives a nasty blowjob.

His lips are on hers in seconds, leaning down while he fumbles with the lock, the last thing they need is someone stumbling in on them. Coriolanus and Soarynn have mastered the art of indifference and sneaking around. At school, it’s storage closets, at parties, it’s empty bedrooms, and at events, it's bathrooms like these.

He can’t begin to count the amount of times he’s disappeared for a good half hour all to bury himself in her tight little cunt. They come and leave separately, making sure that neither their family nor friends are none the wiser.

There have been a few close calls, or a few times where he's thought about properly bedding her in his apartment, but it's far too risky. Anyone who sees two teenagers leaving the same room together is left with little to assume. It would be an outright scandal for both of them and their families.

He can't have that.

So, it's a little rendezvous like this that keeps them going.

Her lips are impatient against his, using her teeth to tug at his bottom lip. Coriolanus nearly growls at her harsh treatment, they both need to leave this room the exact same way they arrived, unscathed and unblemished.

He's quick to place his hands on her waist, holding her against him so that he can regain some of the control. Unlike the other girls he's fucked, Soarynn does not necessarily lie down and take it. She enjoys taking the lead and frustrating him, challenging him every step of the way, which makes these quick interactions very stressful for him.

But he's embarassingly addicted to her cunt so there's no saving him now.

"Placing fucking bets, huh?" He taunts while kissing her, slipping one hand down to her ass, palming it through the thick fabric of her dress, "How much do you wanna bet that you're already soaking wet for me?"

Soarynn mewls at his touch, leaning into him as she wraps her arms around his neck. She can act all high and mighty in front of their family and friends, but he knows that she's just as addicted as he is to this little scheme they've been running.

He's counted too many longing stares, heavy sighs and pouting lips to put it past his own imagination.

But sometimes he wonders if she just wants him for the sex, or for something more.

It wouldn't surprise anyone if they were to start courting, it's almost expected so maybe that's why they're so opposed to getting along outside of these heated touches and secret kisses.

Either way, now is not the time to think about these things.

"Just hurry up and fuck me," she whispers, "my father will be wondering where I've run off to."

Coriolanus doesn't need to be told twice when it comes to sliding into her warm cunt. He breaks away from the kiss and spins her around, deciding that he can bend her over the sink for the easiest access.

"Where'd you run off to this time then?" He asks, using one hand to unbuckle his belt while the other unzips the back of her dress. Soarynn gasps when he tugs on the zipper too harshly, "I told him I was going down to the main level, and watch my zipper," she hisses, shooting him a glare through the mirror in front of the sink.

Coriolanus merely chuckles in reply, letting his belt and her dress fall to the floor. Next he unzips his own pants, groaning at how confined his hard cock feels in his boxers, so close to being set free. Apparently she anticipated one of their secret little meetings because she's wearing a matching set under her outfit today.

Lace panties and a lacy bralette, it does wonders for the human mind, in his opinion.

He allows himself to stare at her semi-naked body for about ten seconds before tearing her panties down her tanned legs, if he lingers too long, she might grow suspicious about how he feels about all of this.

A good player never reveals his cards.

He slides two fingers in between her legs, causing Soarynn to moan and throw her head back when his fingers rub against her clit, sopping wet already from her dripping folds.

"Little slut is already wet for me huh?" He teases, pulling down his boxers, "I bet I could've fucked you in the box and you'd like that too, hmm? Always desperate for a fight and a fuck."

Her back arches the more he rubs her clit and he quickly pushes the tip of his cock into her entrance, both of them moaning at how heavenly it feels when he's inside of her.

Coriolanus is quick to start up the pace, wrapping one arm around her waist while he rests his chin on her shoulder, watching their reflection in the mirror. "Look at you," he says huskily in her ear, "my little slut, always ready for it. If you place bets as well as you take cock then you just might win this race."

Soarynn has never shied from dirty talk but she also doesn't shy away from talking back either. A double-edged sword in his opinion.

She rolls her hips back to meet his thrusts, causing him to stutter at the sudden movement, "Well if your talk is as big as your game, then maybe you'll win the races today," she replies, digging her nails into his forearm. They're too evenly matched, both vicious in their own rightful ways.

He decides to focus on just fucking her, they don't need to talk all the time. If anything, their public arguments are just foreplay. Something to get both of them equally riled up so they can fuck it out later.

He watches her face in the mirror, how it contorts in pleasure, how her eyes flutter shut, how her lips fall open, how soft her skin is. He's heard that you're only as pretty as you are on the inside, but Soarynn must be some exception.

Her walls squeeze tightly around him, begging him to spill inside of her, which is something he takes great joy in doing. Thank goodness for the birth control implant or they would have a child or two already.

"I'm close," she pants, gripping the sink with her other hand, "make me cum Coriolanaus."

Coriolanus Snow, a boy who hates being told what to do, finds himself fucking her harder than before, desperate to get her to the finish line before the horses on the track do. It's like he suddenly has something to prove, something that lets her know that he is the only one who can satisfy her needs.

He can feel himself nearing his orgasm as well, they almost always finish together. Like a couple. A couple of delinquent teenagers fucking in the bathroom right now.

Their compromised position is what gets him to the edge, not wanting to spend too much time away to raise suspicion. He rubs at her clit even faster than before in tight circles, causing Soarynn to moan from the stimulation. He lands a few more thrusts right against her sweet spot as he paints her walls and that's all it takes to make her cum.

Soarynn does what she always does when finishing, she goes limp in his arms and for a short amount of time, trusts him to keep her upright and safe. He takes this short-lived responsibility very seriously and keeps his arm wrapped around her waist while they both pant, coming down from their individual highs.

He rests his forehead on her bare shoulder, smelling her soft skin, always vanilla with this girl. He debates kissing the soft skin near his lips but decides against it. He doesn't want to make things weird.

Soarynn lets him know when she's regained consciousness by tapping his arm, telling him to let her go which he does without protest, slowly pulling out of her cunt. They both groan at the feeling, at the emptiness inside both of them.

He wonders what causes that emptiness, the lack of sex, or the lack of a real human connection.

Now is not the time to ponder these things.

Soarynn and Coriolanus make quick work at cleaning up. Soarynn wipes herself down, fixing her hair and adjusting her makeup while Coriolanus wipes down as well. He pulls his pants back up and slides his belt through the loops. Soarynn slips her dress back on, going to pull the zipper up but she only makes it halfway.

"Here," he says, in a gentle tone compared to how he usually speaks to her, "let me." Her eyes slightly widen, he's usually much meaner after they finish, she is too. But then her eyes and shoulders soften, "Thank you."

He simply nods, zipping her all the way up, "I'll let you go first."

Soarynn hums, checking her reflection one last time before turning to leave, but for some unexplained reason, he stops her, grabbing her wrist.

"Give me a kiss," he says, almost like he's begging.

Her lips curl into a cruel smirk, much more like the girl he knows and hates, "A kiss? Don't tell me you've gone soft," she purrs up at him. Coriolanus scoffs, tugging her closer, suffocating on her intoxicating scent, "Just give me a kiss."

To his surprise, she does as he asks, pressing herself to her tiptoes to peck his lips. She slides her gloves back on and pats his cheek with her hand, "The big, bad Coriolanus Snow asking for kisses in the bathroom," she teases, "what would your father say if he saw you like this?"

His jaw ticks and she's successfully pissed him off all over again.

"You keep my father out of this," he tells her, growing angrier when she walks out of the bathroom with no response.

What would his father think of all this?

Would he think that Coriolanus was being foolish? Or would he see himself in his son? Running after the beautiful girl with blonde hair that he too chased after so many years ago?

His father has always said that Snow lands on top, but standing alone in the bathroom leads Coriolanus to question if it really does.

Or is that just a lie he tells himself?

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus manages to return to his box without raising any suspicion and apparently, he didn’t miss a thing.

“There’s been a delay darling,” mother tells him, helping herself to some tarts on a silver platter, “something about the track? I don’t really know if I’m being quite honest, I was too busy chatting with Mrs. Creed when they made the official announcement.”

He’s not surprised.

Coriolanus helps himself to some fruits before sitting back down next to his father who hasn’t moved since he left, still as a statue.

“Where’d you run off to?” He asks and Coriolanus tugs at his collar, it’s suddenly very hot in here. “To see who they were predicting to win,” he easily lies, leaning back into the sofa, “odds are in our favor once again.”

Father grunts and glances over at the Nightingale’s box, Soarynn and Glen stand near the balcony, sharing conversation as well. “Good, apparently Soarynn did place a bet on Number Six. Glen let her choose.”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, that sounds like the sort of thing he’d do. From what he’s gathered, Glen Nightingale is eager to please his daughter, even if it means letting her spend all his money on horses and shoes.

“Well, we’ll see how that plays out,” is all he replies with.

A few more minutes go by until it’s finally time for the races.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you for your patience. The races are about to begin!”

A cheer goes up in the crowd but Coriolanus is far too preoccupied with his lingering thoughts from the bathroom moments ago. Maybe he needs to cut things off with her permanently, if he can’t have all of her, then there’s really no point in continuing this.

He also doesn’t want to see her end up with somebody else, doesn’t know the type of person he’d become if he saw Soarynn walking down the hallway holding hands with another boy.

Who else could be more perfect for her than him?

No one.

He’s so busy thinking about her that he missed the gun going off and the race beginning. But his father is already on his feet, pacing the length of the box as the race edges on, Number Six and Seven neck and neck with each passing lap.

Coriolanus stands to his own feet when they reach the final lap, yelling alongside his father as Seven nears the finish line, the jockey holding on for dear life while his horse thunders down the track.

He quickly glances over at Soarynn and finds her equally enthralled with the race, cheering for Number Six who’s up by a hair.

It’s a close race. It’s so close. It’s getting closer.

It’s done! It’s done and Number Six has won the race!

Coriolanus hears his father mutter some not nice words before returning to his seat, defeated and less rich than when he came to the arena.

Mother comes up to him, fanning herself with a gloved hand, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that,” she says to him, “we always win.”

Coriolanus looks over at Soarynn again but this time, she’s looking right at him, a big smirk on her face while waving a handkerchief at the jockey riding Number Six.

Gloating.

Coriolanus scowls, he’s definitely going to fuck her extra hard the next time he sees her.

He goes over to his parents, both look equally shocked and defeated as he is, “I think I’m ready to depart,” he announces, shoving his hands in his pockets. This feeling is so foreign, so...confusing.

Is this what losers feel like?

Mother nods eagerly, resting a hand on father’s knee, “Yes darling, we should go before traffic gets bad.”

Still upset over his loss, father stands without a word, leading their family out of the box and towards the stairs. The entire arena is slowly leaving the building, causing quite a traffic jam for those who bought general admission tickets. But for those who have a private box, they simply go out the private entrance.

While waiting for their car in the shade, Glen and Soarynn approach them, rubbing salt in the wound so to speak.

“Looks like I know more about betting than you think I do,” Soarynn brags in a haughty tone, ignoring the look her father gives her. Coriolanus scoffs, staring her down despite his epic, public loss, “Please, you got lucky. That’s all.”

Soarynn shrugs, “Luck is the name of the game, Coryo.” She tacks on that nickname to piss him off and it does just that, but before he can say anything, their car arrives.

“Lovely seeing you two again,” mother says, kissing both Glen and Soarynn on the cheeks, proper etiquette for those who reside in the upper class when saying farewell.

Soarynn smiles brightly at mother as if she wasn’t getting fucked by her son half an hour ago, “So wonderful to see you again Mrs. Snow, and you as well Mr. Snow.”

Father nods, shaking Glen’s hand, “Good luck in school this year young lady.”

Soarynn looks expectantly at Coriolanus to say goodbye as well, it would be proper to kiss the back of her hand or give a friendly hug, but he is not feeling friendly right now.

He either needs to punch someone or fuck someone and he’s already exhausted the second option.

Soarynn seems to be all too aware of that, and instead of leaving him be, she surprises all of them by stepping up to him and planting a big fat kiss on his cheek. Coriolanus is stunned beyond words, never has a girl shown this type of affection towards him in front of his parents.

These are the types of gestures that have meaning and intention behind them, not for the faint of heart, but mother looks like she might faint while placing a hand over her heart.

“I’ll see you in school,” Soarynn said sweetly, stepping back as if she didn’t just kiss him in front of their parents. Coriolanus coughs into his fist, he’s probably turning bright red, “Yeah, see you in school.”

He’s the first to leave and doesn’t wait up for his parents, speedwalking to the car so he doesn’t have to look at Soarynn for another second because he might explode.

Once everyone is in the car, mother pounces, eagerness in her tone, “Darling, she likes you! She kissed you on the cheek because she likes you! Is there something going on? Are you two thinking about courting?”

Coriolanus shakes his head, burning with embarrassment about the whole thing the more he thinks about it, “No, no, there’s nothing between us,” he swears, ignoring the look he gets from his father.

Mother doesn’t look convinced at his claims, “Well, I suspect that something might bloom between you two this year. How thrilling, Crassus, isn’t it thrilling?”

Father has a far away look in his eyes while gazing at his son, as if remembering his years during school. “Yes, I remember the thrill of the chase, I also remember how it ended.”

That’s all Coriolanus needs to hear.

All he needs to hear to decide that he will not end up like his father did. He’ll get the girl and keep her, proudly show her off while climbing to the top.

Today might have been an exception, but one thing has still been made perfectly clear to Coriolanus after all these years.

Snow lands on top.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| 'Born to Die' |

{ Companion: ‘Million Dollar Man’ }

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames |

[tglamhouse]

Hair Extension Kit for Travelers: Stay Stylish on Your Adventures  

Okay, let's get serious about travel hair. 😩 We all know the struggle: you spend hours planning outfits, but your hair decides to throw a tantrum the moment you step off the plane. 🙄 But fear not, fellow adventurers! A killer hair extension kit is your secret weapon, and we're here to help you choose the perfect one. 😉

Why a Hair Extension Kit Is Non-Negotiable for Travelers 👑

Traveling is basically a hair obstacle course.  Different climates, weird water, humidity that's out to get you... your hair doesn't stand a chance without backup.

Think of extensions as your confidence insurance. You deserve to feel your best, from that rooftop dinner to that solo museum stroll. No more hiding under a bucket hat! 

The Must-Have Items for Your Jet-Setting Hair Arsenal 🧳

Clip-ins: The ultimate quick-change artists! Perfect for beginners or anyone who wants options without the long-term commitment. Think instant glam, without looking like you tried too hard. 

Halo hair extensions: The low-key MVP. Effortless volume and length, without clips or glue. It's like your hair just got a serious upgrade. 

Hair tinsels: Because sometimes, you just wanna sparkle! ✨ These are the fun, temporary add-ons that give your look a little oomph. Perfect for festivals, cocktails, or just feeling extra fabulous.

The essential tool kit: Don't even think about traveling without these!

A loop brush: This is your detangling BFF. It glides through extensions without ripping out those precious strands. 

Sectioning clips: Precision is key! These help you create clean parts and style like a pro. 

A travel-sized, sulfate-free cleanser: This is non-negotiable! Regular shampoo = extension sabotage. 

A satin pouch: Treat your extensions with respect! Protect them from tangling and damage. 

What Makes a Hair Extension Kit Truly Travel-Worthy? 🗺️

Just fitting in your bag isn't enough! Your kit needs to be READY for adventure.

Packability: Think pre-curved base or halo-style flexibility. You don't want bulky, awkward extensions taking up precious space. 

Lightweight hair: Altitude changes can make heavy extensions feel flat and lifeless. Go for lightweight strands that bounce back! 

Protection: Your extensions need a case or pouch that ACTUALLY protects them, not just shoves them in a corner. 

Heat-styling compatibility: You're gonna want to style, right? Make sure your extensions can handle the heat from hotel irons and dryers. 

Finding Your Perfect Travel Extension Match 👯‍♀️

First-timers and commitment-phobes: Clip-ins or halo are your besties. Easy to use, easy to remove.

Minimalists who want maximum glam: Halo is your secret weapon. Effortless volume, zero fuss.

Experienced users who can handle adhesive: Tape-ins are sleek and seamless, but they demand proper care.

The indecisive queens: Hybrid kits give you ALL the options.

How to Keep Your Extensions Flawless on the Road 💁‍♀️

Halo hair extensions: Gentle brushing with a loop brush is key. And keep product away from the base! Slippage = no bueno.

Hair tinsels: Treat them like delicate jewelry. No direct heat! And detangle with your fingers, not your rage. 

Packing & Storing Like a Pro 👑

Don't just toss your extensions in your bag and hope for the best! That's a recipe for disaster. 

Separate everything: Hair, tools, products. Keep it organized!

Use breathable materials: Satin, silk, or mesh bags are your friends. They prevent friction and keep your extensions happy. 

Store clip-ins and halo strands flat: Rolling them up = bends and breakage. 

Emergency Hair Extension Fixes (Because Life Happens) 🚨

Tangles from wind or sleep: Oil + loop brush + patience. Lots of patience. 

Dry or crunchy ends: A dab of leave-in conditioner or hair oil will do the trick. But avoid the roots!

Loose clips: A mini sewing kit is your savior. Hotels often have them if you don't.

No brush? Wide-tooth comb or your fingers (gently!). Yikes!

Where to Buy Extensions When You're Miles Away from Home 🌍

Searching "hair extensions near me" without a plan? That's risky business. 

Salons: Your best bet for expert advice and quality products. Call ahead! 

Online: Variety and reviews, but shipping times can be a bummer. 

Brands like Bellami: Consistent quality and reliable products. A safe bet in unfamiliar territory.

The Final Word: Your Hair Extension Kit Is Your Travel MVP 🏆

Stop thinking of it as "extra." It's a strategy for looking and feeling your best, wherever you are.

Invest in a kit that works for you, not against you.

And remember: you're worth it! 😉

Now go book that trip! Your hair will thank you. 🙏 

This article is first published on https://theglamhouse.com/the-glam-house-blog/hair-extension-kit-for-travelers

[janisurstemostrespectedtrade]

Janis Urste   Hot Tips You Need To Know About Forex Trading

Janis Urste Professional tips provider. Many people feel that forex is a subject that they are interested in, but are afraid of, at the same time, you shouldn't be afraid of a subject that you are interested in though. The fear of forex, simply comes from not having enough knowledge on the subject. Expand your knowledge and use the tips that you read in this article, towards your goals and you should start feeling confidence in your success before you know it.

Try not to over analyze the trades that you make during the course of the day and night. Sometimes, the best decision is the most logical and obvious choice that you are presented with. Keep it very simple and do not question your original judgment if you want to maximize your profits.

Learn when to cut your losses. Decide how much you are prepared to potentially lose, and get out as soon as you reach that point. Don't spend any time hoping the situation will turn around: the chances are it will only get worse. You will always have the opportunity to recoup your losses with another trade.

Find out when certain economic indicators are released by the government. There is usually some fluctuation in currency prices as the public anticipates the release of the figures. Prices are mostly driven by people's sentiments as they anticipate good news or bad news. Knowing when these indicators are released will prepare you to make the appropriate decision on currency trading.

To make more money, you should establish a trading routine. For each situation, you should have an answer that secures your investments. If one of your usual response does not work in a particular situation, analyze why and create a new response for this particular situation. You should always act in a consistent manner.

To be successful with forex, think about risk management and probabilities. If you have an understanding of these notions, you should be able to minimize your losses by not taking unreasonable risks. Analyze the market trends and determine the probability of an investment to be fruitful. With experience, you should be able to recognize opportunities based on probabilities.

Janis Urste Expert tips provider. A good trait to have in terms of foreign exchange trading is to always do your homework. Stay updated on various global events and invest according to how they go. A certain currency can be good today, but bad the next day based on the current state of that country.

If your written trading plan is not working for you, step back and reassess your position. As you gain more experience in the market, you may find that your needs may change. If your needs change, so should your goals and that means adjusting your plan to fit those needs and goals.

Always think of your forex trading strategies in terms of probabilities. Nothing is guaranteed -- a trader can make all of the "correct" choices and still have the trade go against them. This does not make the trade wrong. The trade is just one of many, which because of probability, happens to fall on the loss side of the trading strategy. Don't plan on avoiding losing trades; they are a standard part of any trading program.

Forex trading blogs can be extremely useful to make sure you know what you are doing when it comes to the trading market. Many of the blogs also give you several buying and other helpful tips and hints. There is nothing better than being able to get all of your tips dropped in your lap.

Forex news is available all over the web at any time you'd like. Social media sites on the Internet and cable TV news are both good places to get the information. The information is everywhere. Currency trading is very popular and the demand for the latest news is voracious.

After you have chosen your Forex trading plan and established your limits for winning and losing, stay the course. You will gain consistent knowledge if you give yourself consistent experience. You may want to make minor adjustments to your plan as you learn, but stick with your basic plan once you have established it by using your demo account as a learning tool.

Janis Urste Qualified tips provider. Try to avoid trading on too short of a time scale on the forex market. Avoid the temptation to make too many moves using a 15-minute cycle. As your time frame shortens, chance and noise play larger roles. Using a longer time scale smooths out the randomness and lets you spot genuine trends in the market.

Enjoy the risks. If you are a person who cannot handle risk-taking, then Forex is not meant for you. The market jumps up and down on a daily basis, and if you are not prepared to manage the stress of these events, you should probably not be involved in the trading process.

Learn the three things a Forex trader should always consider: market trend forecasting, entry and exit points of time, and how much money you should commit to a trade. Once a trader has a complete system that includes these three major attributes, you can expect to see profits and confidence begin to increase.

Don't go onto Forex when your stressed with time. Make sure you choose a moment where you can take the time to analyze the market and really focus on which trades are good and bad. Every person is different, some people are comfortable waiting hours before they see results and others can't go longer than 15 minutes without needing to see some type of result. Know yourself and choose a time frame that fits you.

Janis Urste Top service provider. Hopefully upon reading this article, you are feeling confident about forex and about the goals you have related to it. Keep in mind that when it comes to forex, there is always new information that you can learn that can help you become successful. Apply all that you learn and as stated in the beginning of the article and before you know it, success should follow.

[philosophika]

I'm jumping on the bandwagon to say that while I agree with a lot of what you're saying, @inkovert, my overall position towards the book-to-screen pipeline is slightly more... positive? Optimistic? I don't know if those are the right words, but the fact is that I'm writing The Sorcerer's Apprentice with the hope that it might one day be made into a 2D animated film. To explain why, I'd like to try to address some of the very sound observations you made in your post, starting with those we agree on.

✦ The Problem With The Book-To Screen Pipeline

In my opinion, the primary problem facing the book-to-screen pipeline is not so much the pipeline itself but, as @inkovert mentioned in their post, that the film industry's promise of revenue and attention potentially encourages writers to undermine and neglect exploring the strengths of their own medium to try to better fit the demands of the silver screen. Although I (luckily) haven't come across any novels that succumb to this temptation in the way @inkovert describes (dressing down the writing to some mediocre mid-point between a badly written novel and an even worse screen-play), I recognize the potential threat it poses to the health of our beloved literary ecosystem. For me, the most concerning manifestation of this threat takes a slightly different shape from the one that @inkovert describes above. I'm not concerned that novels which resort to stage-direction style writing (to win over the movie industry) will take over the market because I'm sceptical of their appeal to publishing houses, film studios, readers and movie-goers alike. After all, unless those books are being written by established authors who'll bring in profits regardless of the quality of their output, how likely are they to be published in the first place? My personal hunch is: not likely at all. What does worry me is that film's dominance is encouraging writers to create storylines that cater to Hollywood's limited standards of entertainment and depth and, therefore, that it is encouraging writers to forgo experimenting with the form they have at their fingertips, to avoid breaking with narrative conventions, and to bypass what the literary genre does best: introspection. That said, Hollywood isn't entirely to blame for this; the publishing industry's self-evident preference for easily palatable, cookie-cutter, market-ready narratives makes them just as guilty for thinning the creative horizon as the movie moguls. This brings us to what I believe is the crux of the matter. The problem isn't that books are being made into movies, the problem is that the big storytelling industries are chasing the same goal: maximum profit at minimum risk. Good old capitalism strikes again! If it weren't for you meddling kids, amiright? But, seriously, you want profits? Never deviate from the three-act structure, never create an unlikeable main character, and for god's sake, don't try to critically address real-world problems and/or prejudices in any way that deviates or complicates the accepted narrative -actually, scratch that, don't write about real-world problems at all! Don't make your readers uncomfortable. We're all here to have a good time. Just try to keep it Kendall-Jenner-Pepsi lite™, okay? OKAY?? Give me a fucking break, lol. If the problem feeding this trend is money, the answer is: read better. Buy outside of your comfort zone. Take more risks as a writer and a reader and a viewer. Try things that push against industry standards. Don't always go for the book or the movie that fits all your favourite TV tropes. And, yes, of course, overthrow capitalism, but let's be real, who has the time? The problem with the book-to-screen pipeline is that we are the problem.

✦ Damn... so why are you looking forward to having your book potentially being made into a film? Doesn't that, like, go against everything you just said?

Nope, I don't think so. I mean, I would love for my book to be made into a film, but will it? Doubtful for all the above reasons (maximum profit, minimum risk). As for why I'm still saying I'd love for that to happen: again, as @inkovert very eloquently wrote in their post, literature and film have different strengths. Literature, as I touched upon in the previous section, is fundamentally an introspective medium, one that permits the reader total access to another (fictional) person's inner world and, in turn, allows the reader to experience how it determines their perception of the outer world. To paraphrase Gotham Writers, literature's strength is that it tells the outward story from the inside, that is to say, "inside-out" (Source). Film, as @inkovert pointed out, is a visual (nowadays, primarily an audio-visual) medium. Its strength is that it tells the story from the "outside-in" (Source). It employs atmosphere, rhythm, symmetry & dissymmetry, colour, light & shadow, shape, movement, costume design, music, and more, to reveal the inner workings of character and plot. Because I'm writing literature, I'm limited by the strengths of that medium. Meaning, there are just some things I can't do as well as I'd be able to do if I were working with film. For example, I can't spend a paragraph describing every detail of an outfit that has no real bearing on the plot because I risk ruining the pace and boring my reader; but if I were shooting a film, I could show the main character's evolution through the costume design. In fact, I would need to, for the film to be worth its salt visually. The same goes for music. All those playlists people on Writeblr keep making? Those have a place in film. So, why do I want my book to be made into a movie? Because I can't do my story justice in one medium alone. It's not complete without translation. Is yours?

Thank you, again @inkovert! I'm looking forward to participating in more Spilled Ink Saturdays <3

✦ P.S. I reserve the right to disagree with everything I just said should someone come up to me with a more convincing take or just proves me wrong, which happens a lot more than I'd like to admit. Also, if you got through that mammoth of a post, thank you and my apologies :)

SPILLED INK SATURDAY 》 Writeblr Discourse Series

Session 1: Book-to-Screen Adaptations

Welcome to our first session of Spilled Ink (get it? like spilled tea?), a new writeblr discourse series that I'm excited to introduce into the community. I wanted to start this series to generate some discussion and camaraderie within the writeblr community, but also because I think there are a lot of writer/reader/author-related topics and debates that crop up pretty frequently and I figured it would be interesting to hear thoughts and opinions on these matters from a writer's perspective.

So every Saturday (or potentially every other Saturday depending on how things go), I will post a topic of discussion. If you would like to participate in the discussion, you can do so one of two ways:

➸ Return to the OG post (which will always be linked in the title of the post) and reblog with your take on the topic, either in text or in the tags

➸ If you see someone's take on your feed and you want to chime in on something they said, feel free to reblog their response

I want to stress that the purpose of this series is to have healthy, open-minded dialogue about these topics and hear perspectives that you may not have considered otherwise. I think one of the beautiful things about writeblr is that it's rich with people from a diverse set of backgrounds and experiences who can lend a wider perspective on the subjects discussed. That said, I'm asking that everyone who chooses to participate please be respectful when providing your opinion or when responding to someone else's. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, no matter how strong it is, but there's a difference between being opinionated and being borderline rude and antagonizing. Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia or hateful speech of any kind will not be condoned or tolerated. I want to set that bar straight now because future sessions will touch on topics such as race and sexuality, so I will always have this reminder at the top of the post for each session. I truly want this to be a safe space for people to share their thoughts freely and not be afraid to speak up, so just please be mindful of your words in your responses.

With that out of the way, the discourse question for our first session is:

How do you feel about the frequency with which books are adapted to movies/tv shows these days?

You know what I mean. When you open any social media platform these days and you're immediately bombarded with ads for the latest tv show or movie being released on Hulu or Paramount+. I've often wondered if writers or up-and-coming authors have any personal feelings about this. Do you find it exciting? Does it make you hopeful that your work could one day be on the big screen? Or is it a bit...irksome? Or are you completely indifferent?

Reblog and share your thoughts. Mine will be under the cut, below. 👇🏾

・❥・

I know it may seem like something absolutely trivial and harmless to some, so perfectly understandable if people are indifferent about it all. But I personally find it irksome.

I could be wrong about the increased frequency of book-to-screen adaptations compared to 10 years prior, but for me personally it feels like it's increased quite a lot. I feel like I'll see a book hyped by booktok and/or other online book communities all over my social media feed one minute, and the next minute it's announced that it's headed for the big screen. And for the author's in question, I'm sure it's thrilling, because it provides the exposure that authors need nowadays to sell their books and their brand. But it bothers me because...well, for a number of reasons.

Firstly, it makes it more and more evident that the movie/tv industry is running out of ideas. How often do we hear about some 90s/00s TV show being rebooted for god-knows-why when no one asked for it? It's not a secret that the entertainment industry is running on fumes when it comes to generating original ideas for the screen. And the same way that reboots are a lazy way of pumping out entertainment for a consumerist audience, outsourcing ideas from authors because you can't think of your own is also just that - lazy. And the consequence of that, I feel, is that authors will begin to write stories with the intention that it will be visually consumed, thereby feeding into that book-to-screen pipeline.

I recently read a book from a sci-fi author whose novels I really enjoyed in the past, but with each new release of his the quality of his books decreased just a bit. And with the latest book of his I read, it was easy to pinpoint why. It was clear as day that he had written the book with the idea/intention that it would be put on the screen. I don't know how to quite describe it, but it felt like I was reading a screenplay, with certain storytelling elements ignored and with action scenes written like cue cards for an actor. It was like a slapdash job with the note "fix it in post" slapped onto it. And it was just so...disappointing. Not only as a reader, but as a writer. Writers are free to write screenplays, but they are considered screenwriters, not authors, and the craft that is required for each medium is a bit different. Neither is superior to the other, but there's a depth that goes into writing a novel or short story that isn't necessarily needed for a screenplay because the screenwriter will work in collaboration with the director and others to carry out the vision (I'm happy to have screenwriters on writeblr chime in on whether this is true, because I'm speaking off my own understanding, not known experiences). The end product of a screenplay is a visual. Whereas the end product for a novel is the novel itself, and how it stimulates the readers imagination. If we get more novels written with the intention of being translated to a visual medium, then all the typically necessary components like description, exposition etc no longer become necessary. I'm not saying that this is happening just yet. There are many quality novels that have received screen adaptations recently (Pachinko, A Man Called Ove etc), but luckily those authors were dedicated to the craft of writing and storytelling first. The movie and tv deals were an added bonus that came after. But what happens when you have an emergence of authors who have those priorities in reverse? Movie deal first to increase my exposure and worry about good storytelling second? It inevitably causes a change in the writing landscape (that I argue is already happening (see: future discourse session), and not necessarily for the better.

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one where Ethan is pretending

Description | When you bump into Ethan in Paris, you fail to mention that you know exactly who he is. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep it up when he asks you out for a drink.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | Ethan x gn!Reader (with the exception of one female pet name)

Word Count | 2071

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans

***

There was no way you were staying in the same place that Måneskin had just arrived at. There was no way, you kept telling yourself. Paris was a massive city, the number of available hotels in the hundreds, maybe thousands if you had to guess. And yet, somehow, you had managed to pick the one place one of your new favourite obsessions would spend their time. You knew it didn't mean much, the hotel had more than a couple of rooms and with your luck, you wouldn't even catch a glimpse of them. But as you kept scrolling through Instagram, seeing pictures of people meeting the four Italians in front of the place you had checked into mere days ago, you couldn't fight a little bubble of excitement forming in your chest.

Well, you told yourself you wouldn't get your hopes up. And you definitely wouldn't hang around in front of the hotel or in the lobby. You had booked your solo trip to Paris months ago, after dreaming about visiting the city for most of your life, and you would be damned if you wouldn't stick to your itinerary and enjoy your holiday. However - you had gotten up at what felt like dawn to go queue up for the Louvre and spent the last couple of hours there, so you decided that a nap was the way to go if you wanted to continue exploring the city in the evening. Fortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't long.

You had made it to the last corner before entering the street you were aiming for, when two giggling girls ran past you, unceremoniously bumping your shoulder and sending you tumbling. You were fully expecting to hit the ground, but instead, a pair of strong arms caught you and brought you back to your feet. A pair of strong arms belonging to a strong chest that you came face-to-face with, belonging to a gorgeous face, belonging to Ethan Torchio.

"Tu vas bien?" His broad French accent confused you, momentarily forgetting about the little detail that you were, in fact, in France, as you stared at the drummer in front of you, who was still protectively holding onto your upper arms.

"Huh?" Was the immensely intelligent answer that thus left your mouth.

"Oh, not French?"

"No, definitely not French." You finally said, taking a step back from him to avoid the increasing awkwardness you were feeling about being touched by him, while the two girls who had previously knocked you down were now lingering around the two of you suspiciously, not coming close enough to be rude, but obviously desperate to get their own piece of Ethan. "No, just a tourist."

"Me too," Ethan smiled. "A tourist, I mean. Well, kind of. I'm here with my band so it's not like we have time to do a lot of sightseeing."

He briefly turned around to look at the two girls who still seemed frustrated at you hogging his time and gave a small wave before turning back to you. It was the movement that made you realise he had the most gorgeous red rose tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Well, it used to be the most gorgeous rose - after your little crash, it had bent in the middle, the top hanging only by a thread, in the most miserable fashion.

"Oh, no I am so sorry!" You gasped, carefully grasping the delicate petals that were on the verge of breaking off. "I must have crashed into it when you caught me."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan said, softly, and pulled the stem from his waistband. The flower looked even more tragic now, in all its crushed glory. "A fan gave it to me a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" You surely proved yourself articulate in this conversation. You mentally hit yourself, angry at yourself for being so easily flustered.

"There are a few fans waiting in front of our hotel, because we're in a ... band ... and things."

Apparently, your awkwardness was contagious. Also, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ethan thought that you had no idea who he was.

"Let me get you a new one," you suggested. "There's a flower shop just two doors down from the hotel - I mean, I am staying there, too, so I know."

He smiled at you with a serenity and calmness that had your heart soaring. You decided you'd be willing to buy him a million roses if only he kept smiling at you like that for a little longer.

"Well, I've got to go now, but it would be rude to refuse your offer. Meet you in the bar of the hotel at 8 tonight?"

No way this was happening. You almost gasped, but at the last moment managed to keep your cool, outwardly. On the inside, you were a mess. Bumping into the drummer of one of your favourite bands was a wonderful chance meeting as it was - but this almost sounded like a date. Now, of course, Ethan wouldn't be asking you out on a date. That would be ridiculous. But there was also no way you would miss out on a chance to meet him again. Preferably without those two giggling girls that were still standing behind him, watching every move of your interaction but luckily too far away to hear what you were saying.

"It's a d- uh, deal," you quickly recovered before almost spitting out the word date instead. Ethan chuckled.

"Right, see you later, then, for our... deal."

He had seen right through you anyway, you thought. But he was still laughing, so it wasn't all that bad - right?

With another quick touch to your upper arm, Ethan walked past you, turning around just one last time.

"My name is Ethan, by the way. You can tell me yours tonight."

Oh, you would.

***

The rest of the day was... well, restless. You couldn't nap because your mind was a whirlwind and your stomach was twisting with excitement. So instead, you had made sure to get the prettiest red rose you could find in the flower shop down the street - while slightly wincing at the price that a shop in the center of the city of love demanded - and put it in a glass the hotel receptionist had been nice to give to you. Then you had decided that there was no way you would manage to relax before 8, so you allowed yourself a few hours simply wandering through the city, no real destination, no itinerary for once, just a nice long stroll with nothing but your thoughts.

At five past eight - being slightly late was still cool, right? - you did a quick check-up in the mirror, realised you were not going to get any happier with your appearance whatever you tried to do at this point, grabbed the rose from its makeshift vase, and left your room.

It only took you a second to see him when you entered the little bar on the ground floor of the hotel. Even in the dim light, the white blouse that he had already been wearing when you met for the first time stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair fell over his back in a silky fashion. You had never wanted to touch anyone's hair more.

You took one more deep breath and then walked over to Ethan, smile on your face and rose in your hand.

"A rose for the handsome gentleman?"

Ethan almost jumped, apparently not having heard you coming, but quickly a smirk spread over his face while he stood up.

"I'll take the rose and your name, then."

"It's Y/n."

Ethan greeted you with a soft kiss to your cheek, before taking the rose, pulling your chair back, and inviting you to sit. It was almost ridiculously romantic and if it had been anyone else it would have seemed over-the-top and off-putting, but with Ethan it seemed sincere and fitting.

"Glass of wine, Y/n?" He asked as he casually waved the waiter over to your table.

"Just one. I want to get up early tomorrow for some more sightseeing."

***

It didn't end up being just one glass. It ended up another one and then a bottle shared. But it also ended up with three hours of talking, laughing, teasing, and slowly moving your chairs closer together until you were basically sitting on the same side of the table. You had asked him about his band - still trying to cover up that you knew exactly who they were out of pure fear that he'd reject you for being a fan - and he has asked about your job, your life, your family. In fact, you only left the bar when the waiter had started throwing you annoyed looks while demonstratively cleaning the tables around you.

"I'll bring you to your room," Ethan chuckled lightly as you waited for the elevator. His hand was on the small of your back and it was spreading tingles all through your body. You were standing close enough that you could smell his perfume, a light yet musky scent that encapsulated everything about him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he lightly pushed you inside and you found yourself not minding him leading you like this. You pressed the button for your floor, leaning against the wall as you studied the man in front of you. He was a thing of beauty, no question about it, and when he smiled down at you the way he was right then and there, he made you feel like one, too.

"I had a lovely evening, Y/n. Is there any chance I could get your number?"

What a question, you thought to yourself. You'd be mad to refuse him!

You dug your phone out of your cluttered bag. You had switched numbers just a few weeks ago and had not yet learned the new digits by heart. Quickly, you switched it on - and your heart sank. Oh crap. You had completely forgotten about this.

The lockscreen of your phone was a picture of Måneskin.

As you looked up, you realized Ethan had seen. And, contrarily to the reaction that you were anticipating, he was wearing a massive grin.

"Ethan, I am so sorry, I should have told you immediately when we met but I kind of just stumbled into this and you were explaining you were in a band and I didn't know how to say-"

"Dolcezza, calm down. I've known all along."

"Wait - what?"

He didn't explain. Instead, he pointed to your bag - your tote bag - your Måneskin tote bag.

You truly felt like the least intelligent life form on earth.

"I've been carrying that around all day, haven't I?"

While your embarrassment grew, face heating up, Ethan grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his body. His arms tightly wrapped around your body and you could feel his giggles in his chest, as your head was pressed against it. You didn't hesitate in reciprocating, clinging onto his torso, slowly swinging from side to side. Both of you caught in a tipsy stupor.

You only stopped when the elevator arrived at your floor, both of you stumbling out and dragging each other to your door while clinging on. When you reached your room, you let your back lean against it, pulling Ethan along so you were standing face to face, smiling at each other shily and yet never breaking eye contact.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You finally asked. He stroked your cheek, leaving goosebumps. He had now gotten so close that you could feel his breath on your, drowning in each other.

"I liked pretending."

And then he kissed you. Boldly, unafraid and passionate. You melted like putty under him, letting him take control while letting yourself fall, as his lips moved against yours.

You only pulled away enough to get another glance at him, before once again searching your bag, now one-handed, so you never quite had to let go of him. A small triumphant sound escaped you as you located the key card. Holding it up next to your face, you shot the man in front of you another smirk.

"Why don't we keep pretending? At least for tonight."

It wasn't an offer he was going to refuse.

[captains-simp]

(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)

I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

1.9k words

Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.

You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.

You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.

Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.

"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.

"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.

"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.

"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.

Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.

"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.

"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.

You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.

At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.

"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.

"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.

"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.

"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.

"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.

You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.

"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."

Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.

"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.

"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.

"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.

"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.

"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.

"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.

"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.

"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.

Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.

Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.

"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.

"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.

"Um I d-don't-"

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.

Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.

You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.

"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.

"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.

Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.

"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.

Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.

"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.

"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.

"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.

You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.

"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."

"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.

"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.

"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.

"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.

"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.

"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.

"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.

Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.

"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.

You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.

"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.

"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.

"So fucking cum."

[madseance]

So then it boils down to this:

No. For a couple reasons.

I'll get this one out of the way first: You acknowledge that Tumblr isn't about to shut down, and that this crab thing wouldn't save it if it were. So how can the whole thing possibly boil down to "what if it were, and what if it would"? How can you say a hypothetical that we know isn't even true is the real essence of the issue here?

But aside from that: I said exactly what it boils down to for me, which is that I'm not giving Tumblr money when they've shown dead zero interest in doing anything about hate speech, especially transphobia. And we're not gonna gloss over that.

I am good enough at curating my experience that I can filter out most of the toxic content

I've been here for years, and I have thousands of people blocked and hundreds of blacklisted terms. I'm perfectly capable of curating my experience, too.

But "curating your experience" is not a solution to the site having a hate speech problem it isn't addressing. I'm not a trans woman, so of course I have an easier time avoiding TERFs; they aren't actively seeking me out to harass. Community safety efforts have to be effective for the most vulnerable people, and that requires Tumblr staff having actual systems for dealing with it.

The current system, in which all you can do is report people and hope Tumblr deals with them, is undeniably ineffective. They have to be more responsive, and more proactive, to deal with this problem. And that's a reasonable thing to expect of a company running a social media site, especially one that wants to be seen as caring about diversity.

I also don't think there is a credible path for us the existing userbase to convince staff that we will give them money only if they fix the issues with the site such as the proliferation of hate speech.

I disagree. I think if y'all can organise to buy a bunch of crabs, you can organise to say "actually, we're not giving you anything until you deal with this."

The official Tumblr merch blog is already selling crab day merch. They see what goes on here—just like they see the transphobia and do nothing about it. Of course what they embrace and readily respond to is people clamouring to give them money, because Tumblr is a for-profit company. You actually have to work to get their attention with anything else, especially anything that requires effort on their part.

What makes a lot less sense is saying, "Let's just give them money now, and maybe it will get better later."

Tumblr wants to sell you merch. Saying, "No, you don't get that revenue stream while you ignore these problems" stands a much better chance of getting those problems addressed. If you just start throwing money at them anyway, they have no incentive to do anything differently.

Tumblr is my home

It's great that you enjoy the website and have friends here, but this is not a helpful framing here, except from Tumblr's perspective. It's problematic in the same way as thinking of your job as "a family": it encourages you to relate to a corporate entity as though it's a human being you care about. That makes it harder for you to make reasonable demands of that corporate entity, because you feel like you're being mean to a person.

Everyone pushing this crab thing is expressing sentiments like this about Tumblr. "If you care about this site and want it to keep existing", "support your hellsite", etc. But it is not my site. It's Automattic's site. It belongs to a company worth $7.5 billion. It is not my sister or best friend; it's a company providing a service and hoping to get money out of me.

That gives me power, but only if I recognise it and use it. It's absolutely viable and reasonable to say, "If you want my money, listen to me."

Or you can just give Tumblr money anyway—knowing full well they could have made real, substantive efforts to address hate speech at any time since Automattic took over, but didn't—and hope they fix things eventually. Maybe that will somehow work, too.

I think, before you encourage people to give Tumblr money, you should think about how little they're doing to stop the proliferation of hate speech, particularly transphobia. Aside from all the other concerns about this crab day thing, there is frankly just no way in hell I'm handing these people actual cash money for this website when they blatantly have zero interest in addressing this problem.

That's a valid stance! I also don't think there is a credible path for us the existing userbase to convince staff that we will give them money only if they fix the issues with this site such as the proliferation of hate speech.

So then it boils down to this: are you getting enough out of this site in its current flawed form that if it was between the site shutting down and you making a monetary contribution to it, you would choose the latter?

The answer might well be that you don't; that given the current issues you are happy to use it if everything is free but only if. And there is nothing wrong with that.

For me, personally though, tumblr is my home. I am good enough at curating my experience that I can filter out most of the toxic content and this is where I get to connect with my internet community, share my writing, and all around have a good time. So issues and all I would rather the site stick around.

Now tumblr is not shutting down tomorrow and even if it were, my measly few dollars would not be what keeps it around. But that being said, it's worth enough to me that I'd rather make a small monetary contribution here and there and hope enough other people share the same sentiment that we can collectively play a part in ensuring that tumblr has a future, and that management doesn't decide the said future lies solely in courting new users at the expense of alienating the current ones.

[dreamifics]

James Potter x Reader

Oneshot

Warning:just angst and sad fluff ig

A letter for James Fleamont Potter

Dear James Potter,

Hey, what's up? That's a lousy letter starter after years of pretending you guys didn't exist.. This would be a rollercoaster of emotions, so try to keep up. Remember when we first met? You were in Ollivanders, buying a wand when you accidentaly almost killed me?

A little girl was walking pass a shop called Ollivanders, she was simply minding her own business when a ray of magic blast to her.. She fell on her butt first, her hair was a mess, she looked like she got burnt..

"Oh, dear godric!I'm very sorry!" A little boy about the same age as the girl came running out of the store.. He had a messy hair and thick glasses, he gave the girl an apologetic smile..

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?!" The girl was mad, who wouldn't? She was just simply having a great day when an idiot almost killed her..

"Buying wands?" He answered unsure. He was just shopping for wands when this very powerful surge made him lose control and it blast to her.

"I look like a mess, Mother would be infuriated..", The girl mumbles to herself as she stands up.. She huffs and glare at the boy.

"I'm James, by the way.."

"I'm Y---"

"Y/N L/N!!WHAT HAPPEND TO YOU?!" Her mother's voice boomed all throughout the alley causing some wizards to look at them..

"Goodbye, you bloody idiot.." Y/N mutters to herself.

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to hear that!"

And that was the start of our friendship.. You little dim wit, but I'm thankful for that, because I got to meet you.. Did you know that I was not very fond of you? You just wore me down, you're a persistent arse.. But now, it all made sense to me..

What my gut was telling me about you.. You were-- no no, you're still my downfall, James.. I clearly remember when it all daunt to me, the how and why? I'm still unsure about the answer to those two questions. I'm guessing you know what I'm talking about, if you don't... I'll say it or write it now..

I'm hopelessly fucking in love with you, I realized that when you went and announced your relationship with Lily.. There was this painfully hurtful jealousy in my heart and brain.. And I couldn't get rid of those stupid feelings for you..

It was another dreary Sunday in Hogwarts, Y/N was with the Marauders except for James, they were eating at the great hall.. They were talking, teasing and annoying each other when James entered with Lily in his arms.. That image broke Y/N to thousands of little pieces, she suddenly became one with the universe.

"She finally said yes, mates!" James announced causing all of the students to cheer and screamed, obviously happy.

To Y/N, the news broke her.. She was fine with James crushing to Lily because she though Lily was not interested.. But after years of pining and persuasion, she finally said yes. Y/N should've seen it coming, she should be happy for them but why is she hurting?

"Aren't you happy for us, Y/N?"

Y/N was called back from her thoughts, the question echoed through her mind.. Oh dear Godric, she was not happy.. She wanted to be the one under James arms, or to be the one to kiss him in the lips.. She love James, not like platonic, this was so much more.. She wanted to be Lily so bad, ofcourse she's not bloody happy!

"Of course, I am!Congratulations, Prongs!"

But what could she do? Y/N would have lost that battle years ago, she was not James type.. What could she do but just pretend that she was happy and fine with them.. She was dead sure that she'll forget all about James someday.. So until that day comes, she needs to fake a smile and accept her fate.

Loving your bestfriend is the worst thing in the world, James.. I wanted to confess so bad, but the idea of losing you was a heavy baggage to carry.. So, I settled by just being your friend but you don't know how many times I've wanted to confess..

To go up to you and smashed my lips into yours but you were in a relationship with Lily, so I never did anything.. You were happy, and that was enough for me.. And don't get me wrong, I tried to find someone else but you were the best James..

It has been weeks since James and Lily got together, no one knew how she felt.. She was all alone, fighting her feelings from overcoming her. Y/N was sitting in the library, reading a muggle book called 'Wuthering Heights'..

However she hated it, she was bitter and had no time for lovey dovey books.. Y/N needed to move on, she shouldn't be stuck on James..

"Hey, Y/N!"

Y/N was startled by a Hufflepuff student, she smiled and laughed..

"I'm sorry if I startled you, I--I just have a question to ask you.."

Y/N squint her eyes, she doesn't even know this guy.. She rattled her brain for any recollection of this guy..The guy saw her confused face and chuckled.

"I'm Oliver Rigby, the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team.."

"Ohhh, yeah.." She just murmured but she had no idea who this guy is.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Y/N was taken aback but she needed to move on, she can no longer be hung up on a guy that doesn't even loves her back.

"Sure.."

"Alright!I'll pick you up then!"

Y/N just smiled and walked away, she was reluctant to moved on.. Her heart was still beating for James, but she needs to move on.. For her own sake.

They were nothing compared to you, I tried to moved on.. But I always ended up to you, the same feelings always came rushing in when I see you.. Every guy seems horrible when compared to you.. The short period of time we spent together was wonderful, you gave me purpose when no one else did.

Y/N has just come back from a very horrible date, the guy did nothing but talk and brag about himself.. He was not like James who was funny and talks about entertaining stories.. The guy was not sweet nor kind, he was a bit of an ass.. That's the only thing he had in common with James, she sighs and sat in one of the sofa in the common room..

No one can beat James to Y/N, her standards were bloody high because of James.. She wanted to cry but that was stupid.. Crying over a guy who didn't even hurt her, she hates herself.

"Hey."

Y/N heart skipped a beat, she knows who's voice is that.. That voice gives her butterflies, she loves how that voice says her name..

"James.."

"Thought you had a date?Why are you back so early?" He questioned.

"O-Ohh.."

"Did he stood you up? I reckon he'd do that, he looked like a douche to me."

"Sure.." She answered not looking at him, James sits next to her and put her arms around Y/N.. She felt her body stiffen as his body made contact with her.. Y/N silently prayed that James wouldn't notice her increasing heartbeat, the stiffening of her body and the way her cheeks blush..

"Are you alright?" James seems to notice his bestfriend all red and she looked like very uncomfortable..

"What if I said no, what would you do?"

"Make you feel better, ofcourse!" His laughs echoed through the whole Gryffindor tower.. Y/N let out a dry laugh, she didn't mean that.. But her heart was breaking into thousands of pieces, she want this feeling out of her system.

"Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, maybe.."

"Want to talk---"

"Jameees!" Lily's voice called the attention of the messy-haired boy..

"I'll be right back, Lily needs me.."

"B-But what about me?" Y/N tried her very best to not choke up and crack.

"Later, Y/N.." James messed her hair, she didn't meant to be demanding however this was the sign she was looking for.. The sign that James doesn't feel anything special for her, she was just James very annoying friend..Y/N realized that with one call, Lily has James wrapped around her perfect fingers, with only one call from Lily, James was gone.. He just left her hurting friend for Lily, Y/N suddenly felt her heart was no longer there..

It was bruised and beated so many times, and now.. Y/N chest is nothing but a vacant lot, an empty hollow space.. The tiny little hope that maybe James likes her back can no longer be found.

That hope was now gone.

Y/N had reached her limit, it was truly over.. The love and jealousy she feels was a heavy baggage to carry. Y/N needed to avoid James, just until she was fully okay..

Y/N knew deep inside her that her love for James will never fully go away..

Avoiding you was the only reasonable thing to do, to be frank.. It was the only thing to do.. If I kept up that silly facade, I would ended up being mental.. You see James, jealousy is a monster that takes over your whole mind and body. It's a hideous monster you can't escape.. I do have a few questions, did you notice the not-so-subtle cold shoulder I gave you? Because back then it seems like you didn't, did you though? Did you cry every night like I did? Or did your heart break like mine did?

Y/N finally got out of her bed, she was in the great hall, hundreds of feet away from James.. But from the looks of it, he didn't really seem to mind.. He was too busy whispering sweet nothings to Lily's ear.

"If your glares could kill, Evans and Potter would be dead now.." Her friend intoned, she snapped her head away from the sight of James.

"I don't what your talking about.." Y/N denied..

"Of course, you don't.." Her friend tease.

"If my looks can kill, you will be the first one dead.." Y/N gave her friend a glare which her friends just brushed off.

"Blimey!No need to get mad, I was just stating facts.."

"Just sod off." Y/N just played with the food in her plate.

"If you told James about your feelings, he would've ask you out." Y/N's friend said in a teasing manner..

"No, he would never do that.."

"And how do you know that?" Y/n rolled her eyes at her friends question.

"Because I knew James, he was inlove with Lily since the start of our first year. "

"That's what you think.." Her friend crosses her arms and smirk at her.

"What?" She questioned confused.

"Nothing, idiot.. You won't understand.."

"O-kay?"

"Look Y/N, just move on.." Y/N scoffs at her friends genius idea.

"You make it sound like it's so bloody easy.."

"Is it not?You cry about it for a day then you find someone else.. " Y/N looked at her friend with a surprised gaze, is it that easy? How come it's so hard for her?

"See, easy.."

"Sod off.." She shut her friend down as thoughts occupied her mind..

Y/N was walking down the silent halls of Hogwarts alone, a frown in her face she hasn't been smiling this past few weeks.. Her back suddenly stood straight when the four familiar faces welcomed her when she entered an empty classroom.

"Oh, hello Y/N.." Sirius was the first to greet her with a big smile on his face but she didn't give the smile back.

"Y/N!I was wondering where you were these past few weeks.." Remus gave her a comforting smile.

"Yeah, I had no one to eat my sweets with!" Peter walked up to Y/N and offered her a chocolate which she didn't accept.

"I apologize, I have to go now.."

"But Y/N--" Peter didn't get to finish the sentence, she was gone, James didn't even look up from his seat.. Did he forgot all about Y/N? But Y/N didn't feel anything anymore.. Funny how numbness can have it's perks sometimes..

Maybe you didn't notice me because you were so inlove with pretty little Evans? That came out a little rude, I apologize for that, but I'm not sorry.. You see, I don't hate Lily, but then again kinda wish she were dead.. She was all you saw James, I was with you through your worst.. I gave you everything, but what do I get in return?

Just heartaches and neverending what-ifs.. You never saw me James.. Remember the day we graduated and left Hogwarts? You didn't even say goodbye to me, not even a single glance James.. I was not the only one who gave up on our friendship.. We both did, James..

Riding the Hogwarts train one last time was a bittersweet moment for others.. To Y/N, it was a relief.. She would finally get to leave the place that reminds her of James, every corner and walls was embedded with memories of Y/N and James having fun with each other.. It may sound nice but it only brought misery to her.

"Y/N!We're getting off now.." Y/N's friend broke her silent trance.. Y/N stands up and exits the train, her feet hit the platform floor, Y/N took a deep breath and wander her eyes to the sea of graduate  students. Some were celebrating, some were crying and there Y/N saw him..

James had Lily under his arms as they talk with the rest of the Marauders.. Disappointment was written all over Y/N's face, this was the last day they would be able to see each other and James didn't even glance at her.. They were friends for years, she couldn't belive that their friendship was beyond repair..

"Quit staring at him, your looking pathetic." Y/N whispers under her breath, walking away without saying goodbye was not how she planned her last day in Hogwarts. Y/N was moving to America and will work in the Ministry of Magic there.. She does not want to work in the same place that James and Lily was going to work at..

Y/N needs to really move on, and America would be the place for it.. Atleast there, she's far away from any reminders of James or Lily.. Holding her trunk, she walks away from her old life.. No more heartaches, just miserable thoughts and lots of what ifs.

Moving here didn't even help, I'm still inlove with you.. You might be confused about why I'm just sending this letter to you now.. Well Mister Potter, I just got an invitation to your wedding and I'm very very drunk right now.. I didn't think you would really send me an invitation because you know were just strangers.. We spent years ignoring each other and now this bloody envelope shows up at my home..

How did you even knew my address? Were you keeping tabs on me? If that's the case then I'm very flattered and also a little bit creeped out but that's not the point! The point is, I'm not going to your wedding because I'm still fucking inlove with you.. I hope you enjoy the wedding though, also don't bother writing back.. I would never remember this anyway, so James.. Give Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease.

Sincerely,

Y/N L/N

If you guys have any request for imagines about ( marvel characters, DC characters, stranger things, game of thrones, brooklyn 99, friends, basically anything! I accept everything!)

[caker-baker]

Me once again asking you for one more continuation of the same story ahaha :) If you don't mind could you please write one more part for the villain prince and the hero baker?

This was more complicated than it needed to be. The baker made it more complicated than it needed to be. Though, the prince supposed, this was more the hero than the baker, he was just used to seeing a timid baker. He almost missed the baker’s timidness, and would give anything to get it back.

Anything might be a stretch, only because the prince knew how to find the hero, no help would be needed, nothing would have to be sacrificed.

It was easy to track them, easy to buy the brooch back, easy to listen who had sold it for what price, and easy to narrow down where the seller would go next.

The only inn that far in the outskirts of the kingdom, yet just close enough to hear the words and rumors of traders leaving the kingdom. Hero had made fast progress in a manner of days, while the baker blended in with the crowd.

The prince knew he was right, he could almost feel it, the hero was as good as his.

That didn’t stop any of the obstacles from trying to prevent the prince from reclaiming his newest charge.

There was the matter of his father, and how much trust the old man had in him. Officially, the prince was hunting with his group. His group was sent to a summer palace, a summer palace ‘Villain’ would have to target, just in case any of his group got a bit mouthy.

Going incognito while being a member of the royal family was proving difficult. The crown’s only heir was well recognized, to the point where the trail of people he was following would jump at his every word.

He became more worried about loose lips the longer he looked at the bumbling inn-keeper.

“The prince.” She had gasped, dropping the tray to the ground. “Your highness.” She followed suit with the tray, dropping into a low curtsy.

That set off an array of chattering, something he hoped to avoid, especially if the hero was around, especially if they now knew he was here.

Regardless, he bowed, mustering his most kingly smile.

“One can only dream of such hospitality, my lady.”

She blushed at that, rising from her position, forgetting about the fallen tray, and whatever patron she planned on giving it to.

“How can I help you, your highness? Would you be needing a room?”

The prince didn’t scoff, but he was close. Here? A room here? He was almost certain the hero’s cell was nicer than this place.

“No, my lady, that won’t be necessary. I’m afraid my friend and I were separated during our touring of the kingdom, and was hoping to find them here.” The lie came easily.

“Of course, my prince. What might their name be?” She asked, scurrying behind the counter to reach for a large ledger.

A smile bloomed across the prince’s face. He didn’t suspect the baker had much experience with being on the run, probably even used their real name.

“(Baker’s name).”

After a moment of trailing her finger across the pages, the inn-keeper looked up. “Ah, yes! Right here, room eight. Shall I fetch them for you?”

“No!”

The inn-keeper’s bright face dimmed, taken aback by the prince’s outburst.

He managed to collect himself in less than a second.

“Forgive me, my lady.” He threw in a bashful smile. “I only wish to surprise them after their days of loneliness.”

Her bright face returned. “Of course, your highness! Would you be needing a key?”

“If you would please, my lady.”

She handed it to him with a grin and a hardly stifled giggle.

“Thank you for your kindness, my lady.”

Gullible.

Gullibility was expected, though. How could one manage an argument against a prince?

He tried to quiet his boots, he tried only of focusing on the hero’s face, the baker’s face.

The prince did not focus on how he missed this, the chase, the inevitable draw. He did not focus on how it’s better for the hero to stay locked away. He did not focus on his father. He would not.

But it was all he could do to focus on the hero’s sleeping form. That wasn’t what he was expecting.

The prince cursed himself for that. He was meant to be a brilliant strategist, and yet, he didn’t take this into possibility.

Walking out with the hero in his arms would be suspicious, prince or not. The best course of action would be to awaken the hero, tell them that if a prince couldn’t ruin the lives of everyone here, a villain could, and take the hero away without much of a struggle.

But he didn’t want to. Why would he want to?

“Damn.” The prince cursed softly. “Damn you and your games.”

In truth, he knew the hero wasn’t playing games, not like the prince was. The hero was simply trying to hold themself and the kingdom up, especially against the siege of the villain.

And the prince was trying to be greater than any of the kings and queens before him, greater than his father, greater than the dangers that lurked with the hero’s second job. If this meant a few lives were lost, so be it. If buildings were burned, so be it. It would all burn, eventually, and it would all rise higher than before.

But pesky heroes didn’t understand that. And overbearing kings don’t understand the complexity of heroes.

The prince buried his face in his hands. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go

Something cold on his neck had him much more grounded.

“Don’t say a word, little prince.” Said a voice that now lacked a cheery disposition. “Royalty or not, you don’t get to harm them.”

“That was never my intention.”

“Was it not?” Another voice asked, the hero now sitting up without a hint of tiredness. “Or did you just want to use me for some twisted game because of your own boredom?”

“A trick.” The prince would’ve laughed if there weren’t a knife to his throat. “Clever and pesky.”

“An awful combination.” The hero finished for him. “Here’s how this is going to go-”

“You don’t-” the prince tried to interrupt, only for the inn-keeper to yank him farther back with the knife. “You wouldn’t.”

“They wouldn’t.” The inn-keeper agreed. “I, on the other hand, wouldn’t hesitate. I always told them they were a tad too soft to be a hero.”

“Besides the point.” The hero focused them back on track. “You’re going to leave me alone, your highness. And whatever you’re hiding, you’re going to tell us, now.”

Us? Them and the inn-keeper?

“Why do you assume I’m hiding something?” The prince didn’t let his emotions bubble to the surface, as tempting as it was.

“What was it he said, baker?” The inn-keeper asked, the grin evident in her voice. She was enjoying this a little too much. “‘He’s not the only royal who has a problem with heroes’?”

“Something like that.”

The prince grit his teeth. Not how it was meant to go.

He slammed his foot onto the inn-keeper’s, and when he felt her try to push the knife down, he grabbed onto the arm holding the knife, and twisted her around.

“I wouldn’t hesitate either.” The prince seethed, the knife feeling unfamiliar and heavy in his hand. “Pesky hero, this is how it’s going to go-”

“Is it? Two against one, even if she’s incapacitated.” The hero winked at the inn-keeper.

It was getting harder for the prince to keep his cool.

“I can harm her, or we can walk away. The two of us. You’d live comfortably, and out of the way.”

“Out of the way?” The inn-keeper hissed. “From you.”

Ah, so she knew. That made it problematic.

The prince knew what he must do, and didn’t bother masking the grimace. “My way, the kingdom’s way, who can keep track? Regardless, you, my lady, are an obstacle.”

As soon as the knife came a centimeter closer to her, the hero pounced.

When the blade met skin, the hero met the villain, a strong and graceful arm swinging around the villain’s neck, the other pulling back the villain’s arm. An equally strong and graceful leg kicked the inn-keeper forward.

Then they fought, like heroes and villains often did.

The inn-keeper grasped at her neck, relieved to find herself still breathing, still alive, and able to help.

Despite something warm dripping down her neck, she joined in, scraping and clawing at the villain with unkempt ferocity.

The inn-keeper might have made a better hero, a more straightforward hero, but her vicious streak was brutal.

A prince eventually found himself on the floor, a baker on top of him.

“Tell me!” The baker demanded, carefully investigating the pinned down prince. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, pesky thing.”

“It is,” the baker gritted, their grip on the prince beginning to shake. “when you imprison me.”

“Imprisonment is a strong word, a correct word, but still-”

The hero punched the villain, and a baker began to shake, while a prince only smiled in appreciation.

“I’m not trying to fight you.” He claimed, eyes drifting to the hero’s hands.

There were bandages. Presumably the cuts made from the hero breaking and jumping from the window.

“Oh, that’s rich. Not trying to fight the one person who’s been-”

“Inn-keeper.” The hero stopped her before moving onto the prince. “You know what an indirect attack is?”

And the prince, who had seen battles, did. The villain, however, struggled with this.

“You don’t harm me directly. You go after people I care about, places I care about.”

They were right. The question was if it was an attack from the prince or the villain, as he had a habit of slipping into both roles unknowingly.

“True enough.” The prince conceded. “But there’s no other way. I need you gone, you won’t go.”

“Yet you won’t kill me.”

“Baker!” The inn-keeper exclaimed.

“I know what I’m doing.”

The prince took another glance at the hero’s hands. “Most definitely you do. No. I won’t kill you. I would never kill you.”

“You want a trophy, then?”

“No. I have no need for those.”

The hero didn’t glance back to speak. “You should go, inn-keeper, make sure your patrons are alright.”

“Baker, I can’t leave you, he’s manipulating you, and-”

“No he’s not.” The hero said, still focused on the prince beneath them. “He can’t. Please, inn-keeper. Whatever happens in here will be for the good of the kingdom.”

With sly eyes, the inn-keeper focused on the prince and the baker, some sudden realization hitting her.

She snatched the discarded knife off the floor before she left.

Then a baker and a prince were alone.

“Do you plan on staying there the whole time, or are we going to be able to talk civilly?” The prince’s tone was joking, his face anything but.

“You are about as civil as a wild animal.”

“That’s not right. I have excellent manners and social poise.”

The hero scoffed, releasing the hold they had on the prince before standing.

“Plead your case, your highness.”

“You should come back with me, quickly, quietly.”

The hero snorted. “Horrible argument. Why should I?”

“I could threaten you all day long. Hurt the inn-keeper, destroy your bakery, have the kingdom burn, but none of it would work. You ran, knowing well enough that I could have destroyed your bakery.”

The hero glared, trying desperately to ignore the growing pit inside their stomach.

“Killing the inn-keeper would do nothing. I would have nothing motivating you after the fact.”

“Don’t try it again. You’d have better luck killing me.”

The prince rolled his eyes at the melodramatics.“So, Hero, Baker, whatever title you prefer. This isn’t me threatening, manipulating, indirectly attacking, this is me asking you to come with me. To stay out of the way, please.”

“Hm. You still haven’t given me any reason to. I don’t enjoy your company. I don’t like villainy. I prefer free range.”

“Most people do, but you do not have the opportunity to be most people.”

“Why?” The hero demanded. “You really believe you’re doing the best for your people, why is this the best?”

Standing in an inn room, a prince spoke, and a hero listened.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Sona, the Maven of the Strings build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Shilin Huang. Made for Riot Games.)

(Shit meme by yours truly.)

Revealing my Champion Mastery just to say that I play a lot of Sona. Don’t flame me for playing Seraphine and Yuumi I swear to god, and I have no idea why Teemo is in my top 10 highest mastery champs ngl.

Anyways you have no idea how happy I am as a Sona main that my girl is now top tier. I came to League of Legends from Overwatch (yes really) and I used to main Lucio in OW along with some of the more “techy” characters like Symmetra and Torbjorn. (Came to OW from TF2 where I mained Engineer and Medic.) Sona was a natural fit for me as a champion who was both easy to play and very similar to Lucio. It also helps that I joined the Rift during the single most engaging meta to ever grace this game. I was kinda too shit to play Janna but the Ardent Censer meta is also why I have such a high mastery on Lulu tbh.

But enough about my history with League: Sona! Honestly when I think of an archetypical support Sona pops into my head a lot sooner than Soraka: a champion based on empowering their teammates in as many ways as possible with heals, shields, movement speed, and CC to hold the enemy team down. I’ve always loved playing her because she feels like much more of a macro oriented character than other supports, with team-wide support as opposed to keeping one person alive like Soraka or Yuumi or focusing on CC like Morgana and Nami.

I’m going to build most if not all the champions eventually but man I am happy to tackle Sona now. She’s always been on my mind as my main but it was pretty difficult to think of how to make her. I think this build is good enough though!

Wow that was much longer of an intro than I’m used to. You can really tell which champions I’m excited for lol.

GOALS

Everything in harmony - Sona boosts everyone on her team with her songs as they fill the air.

Triple time! - Sona’s ability to boost her whole team into a good position is always beneficial.

Crescendo! - Fun fact: Sona’s ultimate is canonically extremely painful as she forces you to contort your limbs against your will. Why is Sona needlessly macabre? Well remember that Riot also wrote Volibear as an Eldritch old god.

RACE

Sona is Human but if you want to be cool you can make her a Kalashtar for resistance to Psychic damage and advantage on Wisdom saves. Regardless we’re going to be making what’s known as a dollar store Kalashtar with Variant Human. Increase your Charisma by 1 as well as your Constitution because we kinda don’t need much else. You also get proficiency in one skill of your choice which will of course be Performance, and a language which you can pick as you fancy: you won’t be speaking it anyways lmfao.

That’s because “Only you can hear me summoner; what masterpiece shall we play today?” Grab the Telepathic feat to complete this dollar store Kalashtar package. Increase your Charisma score by 1 and get a 60 foot telepathy to speak while being mute. You also learn the Detect Thoughts spell and can cast it once without using a spell slot. "Did he want... four autographs? I don't understand."

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - Charisma is tied to performance and all the other stuff a Demacian noblewoman is expected to be good at.

14; DEXTERITY - Something something medium armor; even if you wear a dress there’s no reason you can’t have some padding beneath it!

13; STRENGTH - Hey this isn’t something something medium armor!

12; CONSTITUTION - Sona may be squishy in League but I value not dying more than good skill checks honestly.

10; WISDOM - Speaking of not dying: Wisdom saves are more common, and Insight is more useful than most Intelligence skills.

8; INTELLIGENCE - We had to dump something so unfortunately Intelligence gets the short end of the stick. You may have studied under the illustrious Buvelle family but most of those lessons were music classes.

If you want a better stat array going 13 / 14 / 12 / 10 / 10 / 14 with Point Buy is perfectly viable, and if your DM is cool enough to let you multiclass without Strength then you’re more than welcome to dump it.

BACKGROUND

There’s two obvious backgrounds that fit Sona: the first is Entertainer for proficiency with Acrobatics and a skill of your choice (since we already took Performance lol.) You also get proficiency with Disguise Kits and your Etwahl! (That’s what Sona’s instrument is called btw.) Your background feature By Popular Demand allows you to play any stage once. "Some, just the once.” You can perform in exchange for a place to stay, and when you do so the local people will remember your wonderful performance!

But making an Entertainer Bard is kinda cliché, no? If you want to lean into Sona’s Demacian heritage go for the Noble background. This gives you proficiency with Persuasion and History as well as a gaming set of your choice: unfortunately Tellstones isn’t an option (unless your DM decides otherwise!) so a Dragonchess Set will do well enough. Oh and you get another language that you won’t speak: fun! Your Position of Privilege makes it easy for you to arrange meetings with other important people, and the commonfolk will be kind and cordial with you.

(Screenshot from the Tellstones: King’s Gambit trailer by Riot Games.)

I personally opted to go for Noble when making this build, but if you want to choose Entertainer go right ahead! Backgrounds don’t affect too much overall and it’s up to you (and your DM) to make your own Sona!

(Artwork from League of Legends Wild Rift. Made for Riot Games. RIOT PLEASE UPDATE MUSE SONA ON PC I’M BEGGING YOU!)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - BARD 1

I mean what else did you expect? Bards get proficiency in three musical instruments of their choice: a Lyre is the closest you’ll get to Sona’s Etwahl, though a Dulcimer is also pretty close. I’d also recommend grabbing a Lute since most magical instruments come in Lute variety.

You also get proficiency in 3 skills of your choice like Perception to watch wards, Insight to watch people, and Athletics for a bit of Tenacity to break out of grapples. (As well as potentially grab some people yourself! Although Acrobatics is also perfectly fine for escaping grapples.)

As a Bard you can boost your ADC with Bardic Inspiration, letting them add a d6 to attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. You have a number of these equal to your Charisma modifier and they come back after a Long Rest.

But of course the main reason to play a Bard is to do Demacian-banned Spellcasting! You learn two cantrips from the Bard list like Vicious Mockery for some diminuendo, making it harder for the enemy to hurt your allies while also cutting them down to size. (I don’t know if your DM will let you slap your Etwahl angrily and then point at them judgingly, but you may have to break your vow of silence every now and then.) You can also learn Prestidigitation for all sorts of general magic stuff that you really shouldn’t do in front of anyone important.

You of course also learn 4 Bard spells like Cure Wounds and Healing Word for the atypical healing spells, Dissonant Whispers for some Hymn of Valor damage, and Detect Magic which you’ll likely be expected to cast as the designated support. *Sigh* Always gotta buy wards.

LEVEL 2 - BARD 2

Second level Bards could be called a Jack of All Trades, as you get to add half your proficiency bonus to any skill you aren’t proficient in. This means even if your ability scores are bad the skills you don’t have proficiency in are still good enough! You also get Song of Rest, letting your allies recover an extra d6 of health during Short Rests. And if you have Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything  Magical Inspiration will let your allies add their Bardic Inspiration to the damage or healing of a spell they cast!

And finally you can learn another spell: against as the designated support you’re expected to take Identify.

LEVEL 3 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two skills: Performance is an obvious must and Persuasion would probably be good as well.

But more importantly you get to choose your Bardic College and if you want to both shield your allies and speed them up look no further than the College of Glamour! That’s because Mantle of Inspiration grants 5 temporary hitpoints to a number of creatures within 60 feet of you equal to your Charisma modifier (which can include yourself by the way!) Additionally those creatures can move up to their movement speed as a reaction without provoking opportunity attacks, making this a great tool to reposition an ally who’s caught in a dangerous position!

You’re also capable of creating an Enthralling Performance: if you perform for at least 1 minute, you can attempt to inspire wonder in your audience. At the end of the performance you can choose a number of humanoids within 60 feet of you who watched and listened to all of it, up to a maximum equal to your Charisma modifier. Each target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be charmed by you.

While charmed in this way, the target idolizes you, and speaks glowingly of you to anyone who talks to them. They also hinder anyone who opposes you, although they avoid violence unless it was already inclined to fight for you. This effect ends on a target after 1 hour unless they take any damage, you attack it, or it witnesses you attacking or damaging any of its allies. If a target succeeds on its saving throw the target has no hint that you tried to charm it, and you can use this ability once per Short or Long Rest.

Finally you can learn second level spells like Hold Person, for a one-man version of your ultimate.

LEVEL 4 - BARD 4

Ah the first of many Ability Score Improvements. You may have noticed our deliberately uneven Charisma modifier: that’s because I’m going to be taking the Fey Touched feat for +1 to your Charisma, the Misty Step spell (for Flash, of course), and the Gift of Alacrity spell from Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount for a Song of Celerity! Accelerated movement? I concur.

You can also learn another spell as well as another cantrip! For your cantrip take Mage Hand for help warding those hard-to-reach areas, and for your spell take Lesser Restoration, because yeah it’s also your job to buy Mikael’s. *Sigh.*

LEVEL 5 - BARD 5

5th level Bards get a Font of Inspiration that lets their Bardic Inspiration come back after a Short Rest as well as a Long Rest. That’s good because your Bardic Inspiration increases to a d8, which also boosts your Mantle of Inspiration to grant 8 temporary hitpoints!

You can also learn another spell like Hypnotic Pattern: while it won’t do any damage and your allies can’t hit the dancing enemies it’ll still be the best recreation of your ultimate for now.

(Artwork by Katie “TeaTime” De Sousa. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 6 - PALADIN 1

I hope you weren’t expecting this to be a pure Bard build, because then I’d just be building Seraphine again! Grab your something something Medium Armor as well as a shield (well technically you need both hands free to play a musical instrument) it’s Paladin time, master of auras! 

Paladins get a Lay on Hands pool equal to 5 times their Paladin level for some more healing. You can touch a creature to give them any amount of health from your Lay on Hands, or use 5 hitpoints from your Lay on Hands pool to neutralize a poison or disease affecting them. You also get Divine Sense to locate any Celestial, Fiend, or Undead as long as they’re within 60 feet of you and not behind total cover. Don’t worry it gets a lot more exciting later.

LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 2

Second level Paladins can choose their Fighting Style and you’re still more of a mage than a warrior, so Blessed Warrior will give you two cantrips from the Cleric list that use your Charisma! Guidance is an obvious must for a support and Toll the Dead is a great option if you want to go full AP.

Should you have options for attacks to target enemies who have high Wisdom? Yeah probably: Sacred Flame might be a good choice.

Of course cantrips also imply more Spellcasting! You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Charisma modifier plus half your Paladin level (rounded down) which is currently a freaking lot of spells. Let’s just go down the list, shall we?

Bless is great to buff your team and make them harder, better, faster, and stronger.

Command is a mostly harmless Enchantment spell that will force your foes to do as you, well, command. I’d argue “dance” is a reasonable Command.

Protection from Evil and Good is never bad to have in your back pocket in case you’re fighting either Kayle or Fiddlesticks.

And Shield of Faith will let you boost your ADC’s survivability with Ardent Censer!

I know you can prepare more spells but there isn’t much I want from first level of Paladin. I am contractually obligated to mention that you can also turn your spell slots into a Divine Smite if you hit an enemy with a melee weapon, but you aren’t really going to be using weapons in this build. That’s right boys hop aboard the caster Paladin train!

LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 3

Third level Paladins get to choose their Sacred Oath and Oath of the Watchers may seem weird but it’s really good at defending your allies. That’s because you get two different Channel Divinity options: Abjure the Extraplanar works similarly to the Cleric’s Turn Undead feature except it affects Aberrations, Celestials, Elementals, Fey, and Fiends.

Watcher’s Will meanwhile lets you choose a number of creatures you can see within 30 feet of you, up to your Charisma modifier. For 1 minute, you and the chosen creatures have advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws. This means that in a party of 6 this ability can give your whole party advantage on all mental saves, which is huge for keeping everyone alive against nasty casters! See? Demacia can use your magic!

Speaking of magic you get Alarm and Detect Magic as Oath spells. (Might want to swap Detect Magic from your Bard list with Mass Healing Word ty Tasha’s.) You can also use Harness Divine Power to regain a spell slot equal to half your proficiency bonus a number of times per Long Rest. And you get Divine Health, because you don’t take a sick day to stop complaining about Seraphine.

LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 4

4th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement: cap off that Charisma for maximum AP scaling!

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 5

5th level Paladins can finally prepare second level spells! As a Watchers Paladin you get access to Moonbeam as well as See Invisibility, both of which are very good for dealing with incoming gankers.

You can also prepare spells like Aid to boost your allies’ HP, Prayer of Healing (ty Tasha’s) for some out-of-combat healing, and Warding Bond for a Knight’s Vow.

Oh and you get an Extra Attack, which sure would matter if you were actually using weapons.

LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 6

6th level reasons get the main reason Sona’s a Paladin: Aura of Protection! All your saving throws are increased by an amount equal to your Charisma modifier, which is a full +5 currently! But what’s special about this ability is that it also applies to your allies within 10 feet of you, letting you give out auras a plenty to keep your allies safe!

You can also prepare another spell but again: not much I really want. So we’re going to be waiting a little while longer once again.

LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 7

7th level Watchers Paladins get Aura of the Sentinel, or as I like to call it: Song of Celerity. When you or any creature of your choice within 10 feet of you roll for initiative, they gain a bonus to initiative equal to your proficiency bonus. While this may make positioning a little difficult (everyone’s going to have to huddle around you) this ability guarantees that you can speed up all your important allies to make sure they get their powerful abilities off!

LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 8

8th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement or a Feat. You may have noticed your uneven Constitution score: grab good ol’ Resilient Constitution for a boost to your health and even more insurance on your Concentration checks. With your Paladin aura and proficiency you’d have a +12 total to your Constitution checks currently, meaning that if you take 24 damage or less you won’t even have to roll for Concentration!

LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 9

You are probably the only Paladin who cares about spells, so it’s nice that you get 3rd level spells now! Watchers Paladins get two very strong third level spells: Nondetection will help you deward and keep your allies safe from enemies that may try to sneak a peak at you, but Counterspell is the true best choice to stop danger from befalling your allies. What’s very good about Counterspell is that as a Bard you get to add Jack of All Trades to the skill check, meaning it’s far easier for you to deny an incomming spell than any other spellcaster! “Mages have enough problems without you.”

Of course you can prepare some more spells like Aura of Vitality for Aria of Perseverance, and Revivify for an ADC’s Guardian Angel. But having access to spells like Remove Curse, Dispel Magic, Crusader’s Mantle, and even Daylight on the Paladin spell list are all extremely useful to be able to prepare. Remember that you are doing yourself a disservice by not taking time to think about what the best spells to prepare would be for your current quest. "Every note is important."

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 15 - BARD 6

Now that we’ve got all our auras it’s time to go back to Bard for Mantle of Majesty! As a bonus action, you cast Command without expending a spell slot as you take on an appearance of unearthly beauty for 1 minute. During that minute you can cast Command as a bonus action on each of your turns without expending a spell slot. Additionally any creature charmed by you automatically fails its saving throw against the command you cast with this feature. You do have to concentrate on this feature (like a spell), and once you use it you can’t do so again until you finish a long rest.

You can also learn another spell but there isn’t much I want from the third level of Bard, really. Oh and you get Countercharm which is awful and I hate it, but since you didn’t take a 10th level in Paladin I suppose you have to use it. Spend an action to give allies advantage on their saving throws against charms and fears, I guess.

LEVEL 16 - BARD 7

7th level Bard; 4th level spells. Freedom of Movement will let you help either yourself or an ally with Mikael’s Crucible, and Dimension Door is great to get into lane fast, or back to base fast!

LEVEL 17 - BARD 8

8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement, and if you don’t like the look of something something Medium Armor then the Eldritch Adept feat might be able to help. Take the Mask of Many Faces invocation to be able to cast Disguise Self at will to change your skins as you please.

Could you have taken this earlier? Absolutely. Are there better invocations? Yeah probably, but by level 17 you can make some of your own choices. Build your own Sona: this is merely a guide and you can make your own choices.

Speaking of own choices: take whichever spell you want at this level. There’s plenty of great ones for a 4th level Bard and I can’t recommend anything in particular to you. Every musician has their own style, and it’s up to you to find your own!

(Artwork by Yan Li. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 18 - BARD 9

9th level Bards get to pretend that increasing Song of Rest from a d6 to a d8 by total level 18 is helpful.

You do get access to 5th level spells like Mass Cure Wounds, which is like Mass Healing Word but better! "Harmoniously."

LEVEL 19 - BARD 10

10th level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: Perception is an obvious must to watch over your wards but beyond that? Honestly pick your poison with whatever skill you want since by level 19 you can make your own choices. (Though my personal choice would be Athletics to hopefully give some more safety against grapples.)

But of course the main boon of reaching level 10 in Bard is the Magical Secrets! ...I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you again: there honestly aren’t any spells in particular I want as Magical Secrets. Sure I could recommend spells like Haste or whatever but are they really going to be that great by total level 20? To be honest even the spells on the Bard list like Animate Objects, Greater Restoration, Hold Monster, Rary's Telepathic Bond, Scrying, and Synaptic Static are very good (although I’d sooner replace some of your old spells with them.)

Again I know this is supposed to be a “guide” but most people won’t hit level 19 anyways, so I don’t think it’s that bad for me to recommend you take your own steps to make your own Sona. Hell, build some AP if you want! I know I would!

LEVEL 20 - BARD 11

Our final level is the 11th level of Bard and I’ll be honest: it’s just to add Otto's Irresistible Dance to your spell list. It can only affect one person but it’s still your ultimate by total level 20.

Oh and you were supposed to get a cantrip last level. Uhhhhh I dunno take Mending lol.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

The rhythm connects us all - You have dozens of spells to keep your team alive and active during a fight, not to mention that all your Paladin auras and abilities really help them give 110%. It’s worth mentioning that Gift of Alacrity combined with Aura of the Sentinel is a d8 + 6 to an Initiative roll, which will almost always guarantee that whoever you want to go first will be going first!

A true masterpiece should celebrate living - Despite your somewhat weird level split you maxed out the only stat which matters for you: Charisma. And woah holy shit turns out Paladins are really good with maxed out Charisma! +5 to all saves means even your lowest save is a +4, and the saves your proficient in vary between +13 for Dexterity and Constitution (both very common!) and a whopping +16 save on Charisma!

Curtains up; I'm ready - Jack of All Trades also does quite nicely to help your middling skills. Even though I dumped most of your mental skills you’re still proficient enough that you won’t be completely helpless when caught off guard. And when you’re in the zone with Persuasion or Performance you are easily the best girl around!

CONS

Don't make me get off stage - It was my intention to recreate Sona’s positional gameplay with this build but it does present some gameplay issues when trying to maximize your effectiveness. Where do you position yourself as a character who’s still primarily a squishy caster despite your good saving throws and AC? Can you give everyone in your party support, or are they too spread out to get value out of your 10 foot range auras?

Quiet, please! - You have a damn good concentration check, but what do you concentrate on? Not only do you have a ton of spells but they all scale very good with levels and you have spell slots that go far higher than your maximum level spell. It can be hard to choose what to do with those 7th and 8th level slots.

The world is cruel... Until that changes, I'll never stop playing - One of many “meta” problems with this build was my choice to focus almost entirely on support. Sure Toll the Dead is a great damaging cantrip but your only two damaging spells are Moonbeam and Dissonant Whispers. Again: you don’t have to follow my build point-for-point and while you’ll be flamed in League for building Sona full AP I don’t think your friends will mind if you take some damaging spells.

But if you can’t tell it was really hard for me to come up with those downsides. With the exception of the positional requirements a Bardadin is a very strong build and Sona is a very strong support. Boost your teammates with your own amazing power and make sure everyone’s alive and jamming! Your power may have been forgotten over the years but no one’s ever upset to have a great support at their side. And remember: Seraphine may be in K/DA but you’re in Pentakill, and you have your own label! No one can replace DJ Sona!

[koko-bopp]

Undying-Love

jeong yunho x male!reader

word count - 0.9K

genre - FLUFF soft-angst, college au!

contains - self-doubt? anxiety? happy ending

synopsis - yunho literally has the biggest crush on you, you could ask him to walk to the furthest destination possible and he'll do it, but even then, there's only so much he can contain, and it's not long before he exposes this crush he has on you to you.

Yunho is sweating from his palms, he feels the need to lick his lips more than once in a minute because of how intense his breathing is; pacing around the room like his life depends on it, debating with a small but insanely loud thought in his brain.

He's not even sure what led up to the point; maybe he finally had enough; the amount of people in his lecture hall that have left open whispers about how attractive you are, the amount of people who've come up to him to ask if you're taken, if he could set them up with you, what your number is and if you two are together, and if not, then if they should take a shot.

You'd never have any clue as to how difficult it is for Yunho to endure those kinds of question-demands from people. He used to be unphased by them, but that was before he developed a massive crush on you.

He saw what people saw in you, being your roommate made that easier. Your smarts, your looks, your care, things he picked up on from literally being just a wall away from each other.

He'd ask for an opinion on a paper, since he wanted to talk to you but didn't know how. This wasn't highschool where you could ask the teacher to look over your drafts, so your peers are your best help in a place like this.

And then he requested a transfer from his old dorm room, the guy over there would leave his hair in the bathroom and frankly, Yunho wasn't going to put up with it.

The he ended up as your roommate.

One he developed a crush on.

It was a small one at first. He realised he liked you, just the way he'd be a bit too caught off guard when you exited the shower or how he liked it when you jokingly ran your hand through his hair or maybe how his heart stopped a little when you asked him if he had a crush on anyone.

Then it developed as the year did, he'd stay up with you if you needed help with an assignment, he'd buy you snacks and food when you told him you didn't have lunch, he'd get fluffy and fluttery every time you messaged him, texted you good morning on some days even though he knows that's not what typical friends do, he'd literally fight his shadow for you if you asked. İt's also when people coming up to him about you started to bother him.

He likes you, but that's it, it's not like you guys are dating, he doesn't have the right to be upset.

He once gave a guy who asked for your number the digits of another fellow who told him to give you his number, that was fun. He'd had a tough day and really couldn't be bothered politely asking people to leave him alone.

But it got different. He was thinking about you a lot more, like, there were nights he'd just think about you for no reason, there's been a few things he's done that he's not... entirely proud of but doesn't entirely regret, this kid once ran to the library in pouring rain for you because needed a book.

Yunho is dedicate, but also head over heels.

He's literally going nuts, and he's worried that if he doesn't say something soon he might consider faking his death and moving to France.

So instead of the latter, he's going to finally tell you that he likes you.

"Hey," he says shly upon entering, giving a small wave, seeing you sitting on your bed with one leg off at the side and hunching to type away on the laptop decorated with stickers and subtle pride merchandise.

You look up at Yunho, stopping your typing immediately, smiling at the man brightly, "Hey! What up?" You ask, then furrow your brows a little upon his body language, "Are you okay, Yunnie?"

Yunho nods "Of course!" He exclaims, a bit loudly for it to be normal, "I just.. I just want to talk to you about something."

You close the laptop, then move a little to make room for Yunho to also sit on the bed with you.

Your roommate looks nervous, something you pick up on upon moths of building a friendship with him. You leaned back a bit, placing your hands behind you with your palms on the bed, maybe appearing relaxed would help him. You chuckled when Yunho didn't say anything, even after he sat down with his legs crossed and facing you, he was being quiet. "What is it?" You humour, "Are you going to confess you undying love for me, Yunnie?"

"Yes.." he says, without even hesitating after your obviously rhetoric question.

You blink, probably didn't even hear him properly, "..What?"

"I know you don't like me," Yunho states, looking down at the nail polish you'd put on him for fun a few days ago, the purple colour chipping off and especially now that he's scratching them out of nervousness, "But you're the most amazing human being I know, you're so phenomenal and literally my whole type and.."

"Yunho.. I'm flatter—"

He shook his head, avoiding eye contact at all cost, "Please.. just let me finish," he says I'm a low tone, then continues, "I've been crushing on you since last year after you helped me dye my hair in the bathtub; you had no idea what you were doing and we had the time of our lives, just... You were laughing and telling me to stop being chicken and threatened to dye my eyebrows– like, how could I not crush on you?"

You listened, and your heart was skipping beats at his confession, feeling touched but you let him continue unless he was indicating otherwise.

"And recently I've been realising it a lot more, people from campus will be coming up to me, asking if you're single, wanting me to put in a good word, all that shit," Yunho sighs, exhaling deeply and still avoiding eye contact, "I just hate it, not because it's overwhelming but because I just want to be that guy, the guy that's dating you so I can just proudly say, you know, 'thats my man and the boyfriend position is occupied' and..." Yunho pauses, realising that he started rambling and being excessive.

There was the small silence.

Then Yunho huffs, "I know you don't like me, but.. I needed to get this off my chest.. I'm sorry if I ruined out frie–"

"Yunho," you snap, prompting him to look up at you properly, and a confused look on his expression. You leaned forward, placing a hand on top of his, smiling at him, a little bit disappointed at his insecure rambling, but hoping that your next words might change that. "I like you too, silly."

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Wake up' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Wake up"

"I'm afraid, just....afraid."

Chapter Summary : The mission at the Mount Yamantau was an trap made by Hudson and unfortunately, Yirina & Park, without any support, were captured by Freya, Knight & Sonya Kuzmin. Awakening is going to be hard.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3400

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This was only an trap, the mission was an whole setup made by Hudson to get us caught, that bastard.....he gave us away to Perseus. That's why he never wanted anyone to join the mission with us, he didn't even allowed us to have any radio support and limiting our equipment. He forced the two only non-CIA members to go through an mission that was revealed to be an big trap to get rid of us. Maybe it was an way to...maybe found Adler thanks to us but I couldn't believe that at any second at the moment Sonya talked about the 'CIA guy'....

Unfortunately, we couldn't oppose any forms of resistance against Freya, Knight and Sonya Kuzmin, they were awaiting for us while we had our backs turned and nothing was going to stop them to take us away before neutralizing us by making us sleep with syringues. We were hopeless as we were dragged away by Knight himself at the same time and the last vision I got before my eyes went shut was to see Park unconscious, unable to do an thing....we were captured and no one was going to rescue us....

When I thought to open my eyes back in the real world, I found myself back into the same bed of my apartment in Moscow, slowly opening my eyes and discovering that someone was having their hands around me at my chest level, it was Freya herself. Again, it was following my discussion I had with her when Perseus came in minutes before she arrived. I was still feeling disturbed to have her in my bed but my mood wasn't ready to get angry.

I didn't bring up any smile as I got up from the bed, removing Freya's arms around me before moving to get to my dresser to grab some new clothes for me, taking the ones I was using back on the ground and then start dressing in those better clothes for me, the others feeling used for days, it seems. All of that by looking myself on an mirror while watching Freya slowly awakening up.

"Finally awake." I said to her, looking at her through the mirror after I stopped myself to putting on my pants before continuing in my moves.

"Yiri, you had an good sleep ?" She asked me, sounding like she already forgot our argument last day.

"No, why I should have one ?" I asked her back, turning my head around to directly look at her in the eyes. "Like usual, nightmares & fears in me, nothing else." I added, checking myself in the mirror, my voice all normal.

"Again ?" She whispered, slowly moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Again." I repeated, very sure of my words as I grabbed the shirt that was put on the dresser.

"You don't have to put yourself like that." She exclaimed, going up to approach me but not too close. "You have me." She wanted to affirm but I wasn't believing an word of it.

"Really ?" I raised an eyebrow to her through the mirror, looking more curious than ever. "I have my rights to be like that." I stated, putting the buttons of my shirt. "If I said that I'm feeling bad, I'm bad, that's it !" I continued before turning around to look at Freya whose eyes was away from me.

"You still want to defect, right ?" She demanded as her eyes went back on me.

"Of course and you can't stop me." I affirmed clearly before I start to move out of the bedroom to get to the living room and the kitchen. "I'm leaving with Zasha & Portnova." I told her, knowing she was following me through my apartment.

"I can't change your mind." She expressed, leaning herself against the door frame of the kitchen as I was preparing my cup of coffee.

"No, you've been trying to stop me in various ways : been kind, offering to take care of me in an way." I snorted, passing my hand below my nose, I was like feeling sad in the inside but I couldn't show it. "Maybe I liked it....too much to be honest." I admitted before putting my hands on the counter.

"It wasn't an way to make you change your mind, Yirina." Freya claimed in an clear voice. "I'm doing this because you're sad, not because you want to defect."

"Seriously, do you think I'm going to buy this lie ?" I questioned her, raising my voice as I turned my back to face her, my hands. "When I told you the first time about it, you were strongly against it, don't make me think that you changed your mind."

"Yes but I realized things weren't exactly what I supposed to be."  She proclaimed but in me, I could feel an lie in those words even if she was maybe telling the truth.

"Yeah, me too." I sniffed, taking in my hand my own cup of coffee as I walked next to her to get to the living room. "Coffee's ready for you, take it yourself." I told her.

"Yirina..." I heard her voice very low in the kitchen.

"What ?" I stopped myself to look at her as I was nearly going to sit down on my couch. "An lot of things aren't right." I said before actually sitting down but I was like not even urging to take an sip of my coffee, putting the cup on the small table in front of the couch. "There's something I didn't really told you."

"And what is it ?" She asked me, worried and coming in the living room with her cup of coffee.

"Before the two of us became something real, I was in love with someone else." I responded to her, moving slowly towards me, wanting to get sit next to me. "I was loving Zasha." I added, making her eyes goes wide as she got sit.

"Seriously ?" She whispered, stunned to hear that...

"We never really wanted to talk about it to the others." I looked away from her even if it wasn't obliged from me to do that. "Well...we did been together but...it was only for an month and it was one year after we met." I continued.

"Why you two didn't continue ?" Freya asked me, looking curious.

"We both realize that it wasn't really going to work together and we decided to broke up." I bit my lips as my eyes were on an picture of me with Zasha & Dedov. "At the same time, we preferred to not talk about this to anyone, staying best friends and that's it."

"I never thought that from you." Freya was sounding more astonished to my revelations to her....I did really been with Zasha in the past and I never knew of it....

"Zasha is an great friend, I swore to protect them at the moment I realized about who they were." I stated, revealing more about them. "That's why, me, them & Portnova are leaving to the West." I added, looking directly to Freya herself, knowing that she would not come with us. "And I'm sure that you will not do this with us, you're too loyal." I exclaimed and my words make her look away in shame.

"That was not the life I wanted to live." She said silently, her voice feeling broken.

"Yeah but we did lived it and followed it without asking ourselves why we are doing this." I sniffed away before my eye start to be filled with tears. "I never wanted this life but blindly, I didn't ask myself...until now." I snorted, cleaning up the few tears on my face as Freya looked back at me.

"You're crying ?" She demanded obviously.

"No, it's just some feelings." I replied, even knowing that it wasn't true at all before I looked fully at her. "I'm afraid, Freya." I told her in an broken voice, my hands on my lap, not even trying to stop the tears, it was useless.

"Why are you afraid ?" She started to move slowly, to put her hands on my face to stop the tears from my eyes.

"I'm afraid, just....afraid." I admitted before she moved her arms around me like if she never wanted to let me go away.

"Don't be afraid, you're here now." She muttered as her head was now against my right shoulder. "You know that I'm going to bring you home." She added as suddenly, all the surrounding went to black and that she was now facing me while I was forced to be on my knees....that wasn't an memory anymore, I'm freaking out...

"It's time for you to wake up, Yirina ! WAKE UP !"

Her shouting was like an distant cry in my head as my mind was slowly waking up from that memory, making me discover that me & Zasha were together for an short time and I was wondering an lot of things about that period but these thinkings started to fade away for the moment as my eyes were opening and right now, I was feeling to be on an sort of bed, facing an concrete wall.

Panic went through me when I start to get up to face the other direction : I was in an cell without an single window giving to the outside and I was alone....all alone, not even Park was there. I was like trapped in here with nowhere to get out of here with an big metal door avoiding me to leave that room.My clothes...I was no longer wearing an jacket, just an simple shirt and still got my pants on. As I was panicking, my eyes fell on an small radio that was just near the door. .

"...as it seems that yesterday big explosion in the Ural mountains did put tensions between the East & the West, the world is on an risky verge...." It was the voice of an russian guy talking but looking at the radio, it didn't seem to be able to have everything audible for me....an day has passed since we were captured....

"Where I am ?" I whispered to myself, looking around before walking slowly towards the radio to shut it off, my ears hurting only by listening to that radio. "Shit...what happened ?" I asked to myself before I heard some noises through the metal door, meaning that someone was coming in. I walked back to the bed to sit on it as the door was getting opened.

"Ah, you're awake." I wasn't watching at who was coming in but I could recognize an male voice....Stitch himself.

"You." I slowly looked at him with concerned eyes. "What did you do to Park ?" I asked him in an serious voice, clenching my fists.

"Oh, you don't want to do that if I was you." He exclaimed, having seen my fists getting clenched. "We have eyes on you all day." He pointed at an corner of the cell, making me discover an security camera. "One bad move from you and you're done even if we know who you are."

"You didn't answer my question here." I make myself clear to him. "Where....is...Park ?" I repeated again as he start to slowly face me.

"You're not the one asking questions here but if you insist..." He stopped himself to kneel at the same level of my head. "She's currently in another cell, still sleeping but I think that you should stop worrying about her now."

"Why I would be ?" I raised an eyebrow to him, sounding angry.

"Because she's your enemy, like she always has been." He replied, sure in his words, trying to flip me out back on his side but that wasn't working.

"Bullshit, you know nothing." I stated, giving an deadly glare to him through his mask and hood. "You just trying to make me think that I'm one of yours but that's stupid." I scoffed around as I realized that playing Belll is going to be necessary until I escape from that place...I don't even know where we are....

"Bell." He started before taking an deep breath. "Or whatever they called you, you didn't think any second that there's something wrong ?" He demanded.

"In fact, I wonder why...." I stopped myself, looking at the security camera, fainting to acknowledge his words. "An son of an bitch called Stitch is trying to make me change allegiances." I joked but his only reaction was to put his left hand around my neck by force.

"Listen to me !" He raised his voice as two armed guards entered the room in case. "Your attitude isn't helping us at all and we're trying to help you." He added, making me look in his only eye.

"I never thought that Adler did really messed you up, you're looking like an idiot !" I literally laughed, fully entering my act of been 'Bell'...painful but necessary. "How is he by the way ? Pushing you out ?" I continued.

"Always been like that or Adler decided to put some of his behavior in you ?" Stitch asked me rhetorically. "Right now, I'm making sure that he will suffer enough like I did."

"You didn't take well what happened in 1968 to say." I told him straight as I was still threatened by his left hand before he reinforced his grasp on it.

"He make me an fool to my country and I will make sure to do the same for him." He claimed before he took out an knife from his vest and now, I was fearing the worst in me. "I know that it's going to be...unorthodox but I maybe know an way to make you remember of things."  He then move slowly the knife towards my left arm.

"Aaaahh !" I screamed loudly in pain when he literally planted his knife inside my left arm....I broke his arm...he's going to broke mine.....

"How do that feel, uh ?" He asked me in an raised voice.

"Stitch !" I was able to hear an female voice behind him before he released me from him, discovering Freya who was standing between the two guards and she direclly make signs to them to leave. "What are you doing ?" She demanded.

"Make her remember of her life, isn't so hard to see ?" He responded, not even ashamed by what he has done as I was holding my wound, almost crying on the bed.

"You wounded her by planting your knife in her arm ?" She said, walking to get next to me, worried. "Are you sick or something because I told you to not harm her." She added, taking my left arm to check it.

"It's one of the many things we're going to try, don't need to worry about that." He exclaimed, pulling his knife back.

"Wound's not so deep but it's better that we heal it quickly." Freya told, ignoring his words totally before she looked at my face, crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She repeated again as she got up to face Stitch. "We're not harming her or even Park, you know well that they are useful to us."

"Maybe but I don't want to lose time with peacefuls ideas, the two are diverting resources from Adler."  Stitch expressed as the two were looking at me. "It isn't the best solution to bring her back but we have to do everything."

"You'll never get us." I whispered, feeling the pain in my voice and my arm.

"We'll see." Stitch breathed, looking back at Freya. "Tell Sonya to heal her, we'll start the first tests tomorrow."

"And what about Park ?" Freya questioned him before he looked at me.

"Firstly, we are focused on her and then, we are going to see how we can deal with her, it will be hard but an great improvement." He responded, slowly walking away from me to get out of my cell before the door closed behind them, leaving me alone.

Now, I was wounded, having an knife cut in my left arm because Stitch wanted me to remember of my old past and it could have gone very badly if Freya wasn't here to save me from him but even with that, I was all alone in that cell, Park in another cell. I decided to sit back on the edge of the bed, my right hand above my wound and seeing the blood getting out of it and also on my hand. 5 minutes passed until the door was getting opened and I could see Sonya Kuzmin themselves with an medikit in their hands.

"I'm really going to play the doctor here." They whispered to themselves at the sight of me before getting inside the room, the door closing behind them. "I hope that you're not fragile." They added in an lazy voice.

"Just get it done, okay ?" I told them clearly, directly showcasing my arm by removing my right hand from it.

"At your orders." They sighed, rolling their eyes around before they moved to get next to me, putting their medikit on the ground and taking out everything necessary to heal me. "Looks like my brother didn't almost go easy on you." They said, looking at the wound.

"Is he always like that with everyone ?" I asked them.

"Are you the one asking the questions here ?" They asked me back, remembering when I interrogated her weeks ago in West-Berlin, must be it. "No, I'm in charge here now and don't move too much."

"I just want to know." I expressed, sounding low.

"Fuck off." They cursed even if their voice wasn't really meaning it before they start to apply some wound disinfectant on the cut, causing me to moan an little. "Don't be afraid, it's just something to disinfect your cut." They exclaimed in an lazy voice.

"What do you want me to do ? Laugh ?" I taunted them, causing them to grin an little as they were finishing to apply the disinfectant.

"You didn't lose your sense of humor, it seems." They raised an eyebrow to me before taking the bandages in their hands. "He's always been like that if you want to know." They said, responding to my first question.

"I thought you didn't want to tell me." I was sounding an bit stunned to be honest.

"I changed my mind." They sniffed, looking at me with an smile even if that situation I'm in isn't smiling. "So, tell me, how's things since last time ?" They demanded to me.

"Are we really having an simple discussion even with this situation ?" I raised an eyebrow to them before realizing that they were really meaning it. "Well...uhm...tracking Perseus down isn't an easy task." I decided to reply like that.

"And yet, here you are." They scoffed, wrapping the bandages around my arm. "I've been thinking about why you asked me those questions when you interrogated me."

"About Wraith ?" They nodded to my question. "It was by curiosity, we heard your conversation before the CIA decided to kidnap you."

"Okay but why is she saying that you were more than sisters before ?" They asked me. "Can you tell me ?"

"I don't know but she's claiming to know me since an long time and I don't believe her to be true." I answered, successfully lying to them. "That started when I first met her in West-Berlin." I added as Sonya was focused on wrapping the rest of the bandages around my arm. "Since, she's trying to convince me that I'm not what I am."

"I don't know what she got but she's not the same since she saw you that day." They told me in an serious low voice. "Everyone here said that you were important before and still today."

"I heard that since some times, I don't know what is special with me." I expressed, faking to not understand why me...was important to Perseus. "What will you do if you were like that ?" I wondered about it as they were finished to heal and my question did put some troubles on their face.

"Uhm...I don't know what I will do." They responded, troubled in their voice before pulling back what they got in hands in the medikit to close it. "Well, you got healed up by me and you're looking fine for the moment."

"What will they do to me ?" They raised their shoulders to me.

"I don't know, they didn't explain the details but it will surely something painful." They replied, slowly getting up on their feets. "It's must be strange for you but...I kinda feel that you're more friendly than I thought."

"Is that an compliment ?" I raised an eyebrow with an little grin to them.

"Fuck off." They smiled at me before stopping themselves right in front of the door to look at me with an grin on their face. "Take it as you want but maybe." They continued before they finally decided to leave the room, leaving me alone on my bed alone, like an prisoner....

"It's like the beginning of hell for us...will I hold on ?"

[padawanlost]

Hey Padawanlost I haven't ever asked but could the Jedi win the war without the clones? Because I don't think the Jedi had any other option. I am not saying they are right but could you tell me how can the Jedi win the war without the clones?

Hey anon! There’s a planet called Earth that has its people have been killing each other and waging war since day one rather successfully and, as far as I know, no clone army has ever been used. Of course, you might argue that it’s different because it’s citizens dying but I’d counter argue that clone lives are as valuable as any other life in the world and the fact they were robbed of their citizenship doesn’t justify them being dehumanized and killed in someone else’s place. 

As for the ‘lack of option’ excuse, that’s all it is: an excuse. And it’s one that has been used for years to justify all sort of crime, injustice and persecution including slavery. The slave owners had no choice, what were they supposed to do? Hire people? That’s unheard of! What was the Republic supposed to do? Draft people? that’s impossible! 

Seriously now, the ‘they had no choice’ is only a valid justification for a crime – make no mistake, slavery is a crime in both our world and in the GFFA – when the person is under duress and even then their responsibility is still debatable and open for interpretation. And even it was simple legal justification (and not also a moral one), it’d not be one the Jedi Order would fall under. They were never under duress and they had not been stripped of their agency.  The were offered a choice between two terrible options, but a choice nevertheless. They could’ve walked away or refused to play generals as many jedi did. 

Following the Battle of Geonosis, many Jedi chose to leave the Order rather than serve as generals in the Republic army. Others, such as the Jedi Master Sora Bulq, chose to ally with Count Dooku and fight against the Republic. By the end of the Clone Wars, it seems that the Lost Twenty had been reduced to a footnote in history. [Star Wars: Jedi vs Sith: The Essential Guide to the Force by Ryder Windham]

Each time civilization threatened to topple into ruin, the Jedi faced a momentous decision: Did the Republic’s survival require the Order to intervene directly in its affairs? At various points in galactic history, the Jedi reluctantly decided such intervention was necessary. They stepped in to prevent the young Republic from annihilating the Tionese, plotted in secret to overthrow the Pius Dea chancellory, and served as chancellors while directly ruling large swaths of Republic territory in the chaotic centuries before Ruusan. Each time, the Order surrendered the powers it had assumed, returning to its guardian role. But as the Republic decayed and the Separatists gained strength, the Jedi began to once again debate whether a more activist role was required. By 22 BBY matters had reached a crisis point. This time it was the Supreme Chancellor himself who asked the Jedi to assume a new role: A powerful army awaited Republic command, but the Judicial Forces were ill prepared to lead them. Mindful that the Separatists were led by the Jedi apostate Count Dooku, the Jedi agreed to lead the Grand Army to Geonosis in an attempt to short-circuit the Separatist threat. [The new essential guide to warfare by jason fry]

This wartime bargain caused a rift in the Jedi Order. Some Jedi welcomed the chance to take action, but others saw leading troops as a betrayal of key Jedi precepts. Even Jedi who accepted their new responsibilities were badly strained. They grappled with the morality of leading clones who had been bred for war, and watched Padawans and younger Jedi Knights succumb to impatience and anger, burning for revenge on the Separatists and their leaders. “In this war, a danger there is of losing who we are,” Yoda admitted in one of his darker moments. But the Jedi Grand Master had no idea just how much truth his words held.” [The new essential guide to warfare by jason fry]

They didn’t even have to leave, all they had to say was no. They were not under any kind of legal obligation to lead the army. They did to avoid a political problem and because they were convinced they were better suited for the job. They wanted to protect the Republic because they believed it was their duty. I would hardly classify that as a ‘lack of option’.

To make matters worse, they actually lied about the clone army origin. So they put themselves into a situation where they didn’t have all the answers. They could’ve avoided the whole thing by simply saying ‘we have no idea where this army came from and this should be further investigated.

The Jedi Master rubbed a hand over his forehead and looked to Yoda, who sat with his eyes closed. Probably contemplating the same riddles as he was, Mace knew. And equally troubled, if not more so. “Blind we are, if the development of this clone army we could not see,” Yoda remarked. “I think it is time to inform the Senate that our ability to use the Force has diminished.” “Only the Dark Lords of the Sith know of our weakness,” Yoda replied. “If informed the Senate is, multiply our adversaries will.” For the two Jedi Masters, this surprising development was troubling on several different levels. [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]

Anyway, what could have they done other them leaving, refusing or telling the truth? They could’ve done what the governments always do: send their citizens to war. Palpatine wanted the war to be between droids and clones for this version, to avoid the massive citizen outcry. As long as they weren’t the ones dying the public would be much easier to manipulate. As clones as it was only clones dying Palpatine could keep the war going without damaging his popularity. 

Corellian senator Shyla Merricope speaks about this during the events leading up the war

The decision comes after a week of closed-door meetings between Bel Iblis and Corellian Diktat Shyla Merricope. When the Military Creation Act vote was announced, Corellia was one of its most outspoken critics, both in the Senate and the planetary government offices in Corellia's capital city of Coronet. "CorSec's men and women will not be drafted into Republic service, to die on a distant world outside of Corellia's borders. Nor will armed forces from other worlds be billeted in our homes." Merricope said in caucus, the day following the vote announcement. She later told the sector's leading newsnet, Corellia Sector Newsfeed, that she would do "whatever possible to preserve the integrity of Corellia for Corellians." Corellia Closes Borders [x]

The war was not the Jedi order’s sole responsibility. It was never up to them alone to fight for the Republic. They were part of the Judicial department, a department that hosted the Judicial Forces the Republic’s main (semi)militarized force. The idea it was the Jedi or nothing is not supported by evidence.

So, no, if they had refused the Republic wouldn’t have been helpless. In fact, many lives would’ve been saved (including Jedi lives) because Palpatine’s ban on peace talks would’ve been unsustainable without an large army to protect the Senate’s interests.

Another option would’ve been droids, a option the Republic refused because clones were cheaper.

So, how could the Jedi win the war without the clones?

By refusing to fight they would've ruined Palpatine’s plans, that’s always a win;

They could’ve demanded peace negotiations, since that was their main job;

They could’ve requested drafting or volunteers.

They could’ve requested droids;

They could’ve let the Judicial Forces take charge;

The Clone Wars were the perfect Jedi trap. By fighting at all, the Jedi lost [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

Again, how could the Jedi win the war without the clones? They would’ve never won the war with the clones because the clones were there to kill them. So the best way for them to actually win the war was to refuse to accept the clone army.

But, really, the best solution possible that I can think of, is for the Jedi Council to accept the clone army but ONLY if they are made free. They could easily say it’s a against the Jedi believe to accept a slave army so the Republic would be pushed into giving them rights and actully ask them if they want to fight. So, instead of an army of slaves they would be leading a army of volunteered soldiers. Those who refused to fight could be offered jobs in the outer/mid rim planets to help the local economy and trained protection in case of a separatist invasion. 

Let’s not mistake the Republic need to fight with the CIS and the Order’s desire to help with the need for a SLAVE ARMY.

How do you win without a slave army? You don’t use the slave army. Look man, the real question you have to ask yourself is if slavery is ever justified. Because that’s what you are asking me, and my answer will always be NEVER. There’s no situation where using slave labor is a righteous choice. If you think the Jedi had it bad, try looking at the situation from a clone perspective. Ask yourself when it’s okay to breed someone, buy and sell them, shorten their lives, rob them of their childhood, deny them their rights and send them to die for a life they will never, ever be allowed to live.

The only characters who truly didn’t have any choice in this entire story were the clones.

I love the Jedi, I truly do, but I don’t need them to perfect for me to love them and I certainly won’t make excuses for slavery and cruelty just so they can be seem as perfect or righteous. There’s no valid moral justification for slavery and to be honest it saddens me to know some people still think there is.