#Contra also sees the stupidity of most things it says

[salty-an-disco]

Cold is so good, because it’s so confidently stupid everyone confuses them for someone who knows what they’re doing at any given time

[jeannereames]

Your top 5 Alexander the Great moments?

Top Five Alexander Moments

One issue with answering this is to figure out what events actually happened, especially when it comes to anecdotes! Here are four I find either significant to understanding his charisma and/or which explain how he functioned and why he was successful, plus one I like just because I’m a horse girl.

1) To my mind, the event that best illustrates why his men followed him to the edge of their known world occurred in the Gedrosian Desert. While I’m a bit dubious that this trek was as bad as it’s made out to be (reasons exist for exaggerating), it was still baaaad. One story relates that some of his men found some brackish water in a sad little excuse for a spring, gathered it in a helm, and brought it to him. Given his poor physical condition after the Malian siege wound, he no doubt needed it badly. He thanked them (most sincerely), then carried it out where all (or at least a lot) of his men could see, raised it overhead, and announced that until all of them could drink, he wouldn’t. Then he poured it onto the rocky ground.

That gesture exemplified his charisma. And it absolutely is not something the likes of a Donald tRump could even imagine doing—nor most dictators, tbh. They’d be blaming everybody else and calling for heads while drinking Diet Coke, not suffering alongside their people.

This wasn’t an isolated event of that type. While he almost certainly didn’t have time to engage along with his soldiers in every project, we’re told he would drop in from time-to-time, to inspire them and to offer a little friendly competition.

He also dressed like his men for everyday activities, especially early in the campaign. As time went on, some sources say he inserted more distance—probably necessary as his duties exploded—but he still seems to have found time to “just hang out” with his Macedonians on occasion. The claims that he was too high and mighty to do so appears to have been exaggeration (as such accusations often are) in order to forward a narrative that he was “going Asian.” Troop resentment over court changes was very genuine—I don’t want to underplay it (especially as I’ve written about it in a few chapters in this), but it tended to boil up during certain periods/events, then die back again. Alexander was trying to walk a very fine line of incorporating the conquered while not ticking off his own people.

2) Reportedly, he once threw a man out of line because he hadn’t bothered to secure the chin strap on his helm. I pick this one because it tells me a whole lot about how he saw himself as a commander, and what he expected of his men (and why he tended to consistently win).

On the surface, his reaction seems almost petty. It’s precisely the sort of mistake students whine about when professors ding them for it. It’s just a chin strap! I’d have tightened it before I went into battle! (It’s just a few typos; you knew what I meant! Or, Why does everything in the bibliography have to be exactly matching in style? Who cares? What a stupid thing to obsess about!) These objections are all of a piece. First, they’re lazy, and second, they indicate a disconcern with details. In battle, such disconcern can get a person killed. And on a larger scale, for a general, such disconcern loses battles.

One of the striking aspects of Alexander’s military operations was just how well his logistics worked. Consistently. We hear little about them precisely because they rarely fail. Food and water was there when they needed it, as were arrow replacements, wood to repair the spears, wool and leather for clothes and shoes, canvas for tents, etc., etc. All those little niggling (boring) details. If these are missing, soldiers become upset (and don’t fight well). Starting with Philip, the Macedonian military was a well-oiled machine. That’s WHY Gedrosia was such a shock: the logistics collapsed. Contra some historians, he did not do it to “punish” his men, nor to best Cyrus.* He had a sound reason—to scout a trade route.

Alexander understood that details matter. It starts with a loose chinstrap. (Or an unplanned-for storm and rebellion in his rear.) Everything else can unravel from that.

3) Alexander sends Hephaistion a little dish of small fish (probably smelts). He also helps an officer secure the lady of his dreams. And writes another on assignment (away from the army) that a mutual friend is recovering from an illness. While technically three “moments,” these are all of a piece. Alexander knows his men, and is concerned not only for their physical well-being, but also their mental state: that they’re happy. Granted, these are all elite officers, but it suggests he’s paying attention to people. I’ve always assumed he sent Hephaistion the fish because they were his friend’s favorite, and/or they were a special treat and he wanted to share. That he didn’t punish an officer for going AWOL to chase the mistress he wanted but offered advice, and even assistance, on how to court and secure her suggests the same care.

I don’t want to take away from what appears to be his serious anger management problems(!), but little details like those above strike me as the likeable side of Alexander—why his men were so devoted to him.

4) Then we have the encounter with Timokleia after the siege of Thebes. While probably a bit too precious to have occurred exactly as related, I think it may still hold a kernel of truth.

Alexander had a reputation of chivalry towards his (highborn) female captives. If some of that was likely either propaganda from his own time or philhellenic whitewashing later by Second Sophistic authors such as Plutarch (and Arrian), poor treatment of women is not something we hear attributed to him.

Ergo, while the meeting was probably doctored for a moral tail, he may well have freed Timokleia as an act of clemency to put a better face on a shocking destruction he knew wouldn’t sit well with the rest of Greece—who he both wanted to cow yet earn support from. (A difficult balancing act.) Also, if Timokleia hadn’t been high-born, she’d probably have been hauled off to one of the prisoner cages with little fanfare.

Nonetheless, I find his actions surprising given the casual misogyny of his era. If we can take the bare bones of the story as true, and it’s not all invented, Timokleia was raped as a matter of course during the sacking of Thebes, then managed to trick her rapist and kill him by pushing him down a well and dropping rocks on him. I assume this happened when his men weren’t there, but they found out soon enough and hauled her in front of Alexander to be punished for killing an officer. To the surprise of all, Alexander decided the man had earned it and freed Timokleia. One might be inclined to call this overly sentimental, but….

There’s a similar story that occurred much later in the Levant, when two of Parmenion’s men seduced/(raped?) the mistresses/wives of some mercenaries. Alexander instructed Parmenion to kill the Macedonians if they were found to be guilty.

In both cases, we have an affront against (respectable) women. In the latter case, Alexander was (no doubt) working to avoid conflict between hired soldiers and his own men, who—in typical Greek fashion—would have looked down on mercenaries as a matter of course. Some sort of conflict between Macedonians and Greek mercenaries up in Thrace had almost got Alexander’s father killed. Alexander saved him. No doubt that was on Alexander’s mind here.

Yet what both events illuminate is a willingness on Alexander’s part to punish his own men for affronts to honor/timē that involved women. Yes, this is clearly about discipline. But it also shows an unusual sensitivity to sex crimes in warfare: actions that would normally fall under the excuse of “boys will be boys” (especially when their blood is up).

I doubt he’d have felt the same about slaves or prostitutes; he was still a product of his time. Yet without overlooking his violence—sometimes extreme (the genocide of the Branchidai, for instance)—I find his reaction in these cases to be evidence of an atypical sympathy for women that I’d like to think isn’t wholly an invention of later Roman authors. And just might show the influence of his mother and sisters.

5) Last… the Boukephalas story…because who doesn’t love a good “a boy and his horse” tale? Obviously the Plutarchian version is tweaked to reflect that author’s later concern to contrast the Macedonian “barbarian” Philip with the properly Hellenized Alexander. Ignore the editorializing remarks, especially the “find a kingdom big enough for you” nonsense.

But the bare bones of the story seem likely: unmanageable horse, cocky kid, bet with dad, gotcha moment. You can imagine this was an anecdote Alexander retold a time or three, or twenty.

——

* His attempts to copy Cyrus may be imposition by later writers. In his own day, he may have cared more about the first Darius, for reasons Jenn Finn is going to explain in a forthcoming, very good article on the burning of Thebes and Persepolis.

[mellowswriting]

Helping Hand

pairing || Din Djarin x fem!Reader

summary ||  The clasps on bras should not be so fucking difficult. It’s a good thing Mando doesn’t mind lending you a helping hand.

word count || 4,873

warnings || SMUT! p in v sex, kinda rough tbh, desperate Mando, cockwarming, a singular spank, love confessions bc I am soft for this man 

a/n || this was uh...something! I firmly believe that Mandalorians waste zero time once they find their person. Once they have them, they have them. No such thing as rushing to a Mandalorian, especially our TinCanMan. also, this gif destroys me

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The second you saw the bra as you perused the marketplace, your face lit up. The fabric was rich in color and ridiculously soft and you knew the second you had your hands on it that you were buying it. It wasn’t too expensive, a few credits more than what you’d usually be willing to pay for clothes, but hey, you deserved to splurge every now and then. You practically bounced with excitement as you made your way back to the Crest where Mando and the little green kiddo you adored waited for your return. It was nice to get some time to yourself, time where you didn’t have to chase after a rambunctious kid or have to squeeze past Mando’s huge frame in the small spaces of the Crest, but what could you say?

You missed your boys. 

The ramp lowered as you drew closer and you smiled. Mando must have seen you approaching. The sight of him standing in the cockpit with the sleeping child cradled in his arm made your chest bloom with happiness. You paused on your way to set your bag on your bunk, distracted by the uncomfortable looking angle he held his arm at, and let out a quiet laugh. Mando’s silent tendencies left you to observe the way he held himself to discern how he was feeling, and after months of living with him, you could gauge him easily by the tilt of his helmet, the way he held his shoulders. You may not be fluent in Mando’a, but you were fluent in your Mandalorian. 

“He wakes up the second you lay him down, huh?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face. The sharp way he looked to you only confirmed your suspicion and you bit your lip to hold back another chuckle. “Here, let me.”

The child didn’t even stir when you fluidly slipped him from Mando’s arms and slowly settled him into the metallic cradle he slept in. Mando sighed loudly behind you, the sound roughed slightly by the modulator. “How are you so good at that?”

“It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” You turned and almost knocked back into the cradle at the proximity of the beskar-clad warrior, a mere few inches between your chests. Heat flared across your face. “It’s just, uh… just lotsa practice.” 

Mando hummed quietly and you instinctively looked to his shoulders and his hands, trying to gauge his mood. They were relaxed, the tension he always carried about him eased for the moment. Content, if you had to guess. It made you smile up at him, brighter than any sun in the galaxy. There weren't many times you saw him without that ready-to-action tension that plagued his surely sore muscles - almost always when the three of you were in the Crest, safe together as you hurtled through space. He turned just as quickly as he had approached you, stepping out of your space to set the coordinates to Nevarro, and you felt like you could finally exhale. 

Bag in hand, you practically stumbled into your bunk and pulled out the pretty bra you were so excited to put on - inky black, accentuated with intricately designed lace and a harness-like back. You pulled off your clothes quickly, stripping down entirely bare to slip into a soft pair of sleeping shorts. It would take a while to get back to Nevarro; you might as well be comfortable for it. The process of undressing while the Crest drew away from solid ground used to have you half naked and on the ground from the jostling, but thankfully you had grown proficient at balancing yourself through the rough takeoffs. 

A quiet sigh escaped you at the brush of the luxurious cloth against your bare skin, deft fingers latching the clasps at your back. It was a welcome change to the usual bras you wore. The straps were a bit too loose, allowing the cups to droop slightly from your breasts, and you fumbled to tighten them. It was just out of your grasp, your fingers grappling uselessly for the elusive adjuster as you huffed in annoyance.

“Need a hand?” Mando’s voice behind you made you startle almost comically and whirl around, one hand pressed against your chest where your heart was battering against your ribs. How in the hell did he always manage to move so silently? Heat bloomed up your neck and across your face unbiddenly. Sure, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in some state of undress - living in such close quarters and the fact that Mando apparently never learned how to knock had him walking in on you often. But there was no denying the difference in you standing before him dressed practically in lingerie. 

“Uh, y-yeah, if you could?” You stuttered, internally groaning at your sudden inability to speak. The thick tension of the air could have choked you as you stared Mando down awkwardly until he twirled his finger, silently commanding you to turn around, and you could just die. “You just have to slide the, uh, adjuster up towards my shoulder.”

Mando said nothing and before you could move your hair out of his way, one gloved hand gathered it to settle over your shoulder and you had to tamp down on the shiver that tried to wriggle up your spine. He fiddled with the straps silently, leaving you to wrangle with your bordering on desperate need to climb the giant man behind you like a tree and lose yourself in the pleasures you could bring each other. 

You weren’t blind, nor were you stupid. Far from it, actually. Reading people was a gift you had possessed from a young age - one’s intent could easily be sussed by the specific light in their eyes, the slightest change in their tone, the barely-there shift in their body language. Mando may not speak often, you may not be able to watch for the arch of an eyebrow or the quirk of a lip, but you could still read him like a book. 

The fear of complication warred with your need. The child was a beacon of light in your life when you thought there could never be anything but swallowing darkness. He was a reminder of the little things that made everything else worth it - every coo, every small smile as he slept, every time he came running up to you or Mando on his little legs. Even when you were having to explain over and over again that no, he couldn’t eat the buttons off of the comlink, he brought you more joy than you could imagine. 

It didn’t help that every day spent flying through hyperspace left you growing closer to the Mandalorian. Even when there was nothing but silence between you, it was comfortable, companionable. The final straw? Mando slept in your presence. The first time it happened had been entirely accidental. He was exhausted after a strenuous bounty, one that ran far longer than they fought for, and the second the coordinates had been set, Mando collapsed into the pilot’s seat and promptly passed out. Knowing that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep without second thought, that he trusted you enough to be vulnerable like that around you...you never felt more like you belonged.

And Mando? When he woke several hours later, feeling far more well-rested than usual, he saw you curled up in the seat next to him with the child cradled in your lap as the blur of hyperspace reflected in your eyes. You had smiled at him, sleepy but bright nonetheless, and he had never been more grateful for the helmet that hid his face. You were too smart, too observant - you would be able to read the love on his face plain as day.

That little green womp rat and his beskar covered father saved you when you thought there was nothing left. The idea of losing that made you nauseous. The idea of how complete your little family would feel if you gave in made you tempted. 

It was complicated. 

A modulated grunt of frustration came from the man behind you as he couldn’t get a solid hold on that damn adjuster and you bit back a laugh. A Mandalorian, a warrior - bested by some plastic and fabric. Something fell to the ground, landed on the metal floor with two quiet thwaps, and before you could glance down to see what it was, warm bare fingers slid between the strap and your skin. This time there’s no stopping the almost violent shiver that racked your body, paired with an embarrassingly sharp exhale, and Maker your resolve was crumbling to pieces. 

“Tell me when.” Mando rumbled once his nimble fingers finally wrapped around the plastic, his modulator vibrating right in your ear in the most delicious way. The strap tightened slowly as his fingers slid up, the cup of the bra finally flush against your skin, and your voice was hoarse when you whispered ‘when’. 

Instead of simply reaching for the other strap, his warm palm made a lazy path across your skin, pausing for a breath between your shoulder blades before slipping under the thin fabric. He repeats the movement, tightening the strap until you clear your throat and manage to say in a stronger tone, “T-there is fine.” 

Mando hummed, his fingertips gliding over the soft skin of your shoulder and holy hell, his chest was practically pressed to your back and there was no way he wasn’t being a giant tease. “Just fine?”

“Perfect,” You corrected, your voice breathy, eyes threatening to flutter shut as that hand trailed over your shoulder to trace along the line of the cup of your bra. Goosebumps followed Mando’s touch, raised as your body’s desperate testament to the need that had vibrated through you. You just barely caught a glimpse of those tanned hands, hands you had seen a few times as he took care of the more delicate aspects of cleaning of his weapons, and you whispered, “You’re p-perfect.”

Mando gripped your hip suddenly, your soft flesh soft a beautiful contrast to his calloused hands, and it was the dip of his fingertips underneath the hem of your shorts that made you lean back into him fully, your head tilted back against his shoulder. A rumbled moan vibrated from his chest and into your back, felt all the way through his chestplate, as you “You want this, sweet girl?”

You nodded quickly. “H-how? How can we…”

“Leave it to me,” Mando murmured, preoccupied with the heat of your bare skin under his hands as he finally broke, finally explored the body of the woman he had fallen in love with in the months since his clan had expanded to three. “Just...tell me you want this. Please.”

Mando’s voice was rough and desperate even through the modulator and you nodded without a second thought. You knew you were in for it just from the way he pushed you further into your bunk to let the door slide shut behind him. No fanfare, no fuss. Mando was certain. He was going for what he wanted, and it lit a fire in you. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart racing as Mando methodically unclasped his armor, his visor trained on you with each piece that came off - and it hit you. This was actually happening. 

Finally. 

You grinned up at the t-shaped visor of his helmet and pulled him closer by the hem of his duraweave pants, his grunt of approval stoking the flames of your need. He pulled his shirt off fluidly and your hands froze where they were trying to undo his pants as you admired the sight of so much bare skin. 

“So handsome,” You whispered before kissing just below his navel, smiling into his skin at the way his hand buried in your hair. Mando hummed under your gentle touch, under the trail of your tongue against his skin. It had been so long, too long since he had any form of gentle touch, you knew that. Touch starved, that was the term. 

You would fix that. 

You trailed your hand over his ribs, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake when your nails scratched him lightly. Finally having your hands on him had you almost giddy, your heart flying in your chest as you slowly kissed down his stomach to the tent in his pants, nerves and need warring in your belly. You wanted to learn every piece of your Mandalorian - his scars and their stories, where to kiss when you wanted to hear those intoxicating groans, his favorite places for you to bite and dig your nails into. You wanted to break him in the best possible way, destroy that headstrong restraint and discipline so he could destroy you in return. 

All it took was a teasing press of your tongue against the outline of his cock to make him snatch you up off of the bed with a firm hand at your jaw and you couldn’t help but smile. His helmet tilted slightly as he took you in, grinning at him like the cat that got the canary, eyes sparkling with excitement, and he gripped your shorts with his other hand hard enough to pop the hem. 

“Off.” Mando rumbled and you immediately shimmied out of them as quickly as you could with his hand still holding your face firmly. The second the fabric no longer hindered his access, he ran his hand over your ass, greedy fingers digging into the firm flesh of one cheek. “Such a good listener. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You pressed closer as you nodded, desperate to feel his body against yours, and your eyes fell closed at the warmth of the skin to skin contact of your chest against his. As much as you loved the bra you wore, you wanted to feel nothing between you. It was easy to slip off and Mando’s hand instantly left your jaw to trace along your breast. It amazed you how gentle he could be; those big hands capable of incapacitating, capable of killing, gently palming your skin and tweaking your nipple. A breathy chuckle met your ears and only then did you realize you were arching up into his touch. 

“I won’t be gentle.” Mando warned. 

You grinned, heat shuddering down your spine at the roughness of his tone. “Who says I want you to be?”

You were on your back before you could even blink, the impact against the bed pulling a gasp from you. Mando made an image painted by the gods: stood over you, chest heaving with each harsh breath, cock straining proudly against his pants. That was the last thing you saw before his hand slapped against the light control on the wall and the entire bunk plunged into darkness. 

A hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you against a pair of firm thighs, forcing out a yelp that morphed into a low whine when your legs were spread wide. Without your vision to guide you, you had to rely on your hearing, your sense of touch, and the low clank of metal on metal and rustling of fabric had you confused until his warm, entirely naked body slid over yours and you heard the first tones of Mando’s voice - unmodulated, raw and low in your ear. 

“You need me, huh? You need this?” Mando growled, sliding down to grind his cock against you, and he grinned impishly at the desperation of your whimper, at the way you angled your hips to try to slide him inside of you. “Let me take what I want and I’ll give you what you need.” 

You could have cried out when he pulled back, could have begged him to stay and fuck you already, but the feeling of his lips latching onto your neck made your voice melt into unintelligible groans. You buried your hands in his hair, memorizing the soft way the curls fell through your fingers. The combination of his teeth and tongue were sure to leave a mark, one you would wear with pride for anyone to see. It was the first of many lovebites he left on your skin, trailed down your neck and over your chest and delivered between significantly gentler bites and licks to your breasts. Your hips moved entirely of their own volition, legs wrapped around his waist to rub against his stomach. 

Mando’s hands found your hips and pressed them down, pressing you flush to the bed hard enough that you knew you would have bruises, ones you would relish as long as they lasted. You had never felt more desperate to be touched, tension rocketing tighter and tighter in your core. 

“So needy, mesh’la.” Mando rumbled as he shoved you further up the bed. He delivered a sharp bite to your thigh and you jumped, a laugh bubbling up from your chest at the suddenness and the way he eased the mark with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair again and his chest rumbled, almost as if he were purring. Just as you were about to comment on it, tell him how cute it was that he reacted so beautifully to your touch, his tongue slid through your wet heat. 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, the grip you had in his curls tightening harshly as you tried to roll your hips to grind against his face, but he pinned your hips with sure hands. Not to be hindered, you pressed your heels into his back and still managed tiny hitches and Mando chuckled at your determination. His tongue rolled over your clit, over and over until you were crying out at the sparks of pleasure radiating through your core.

His mouth left you for a split second, just long enough to slick his fingers with his spit, and his tongue descended back to your clit as two fingers rubbed tiny circles against your entrance. You were almost incoherent in your begging, your voice slurred, words cut off in the middle - and then two thick fingers slid into your cunt, his lips wrapped around your clit, and you thought your heart stopped with the intensity of it all. 

After what could have been an eternity or a mere half second, Mando pumped his fingers slowly and your entire world imploded around you. The groan that left your lover was exhilarating. He mumbled against you, something about the tightest fucking cunt he’s ever had, before his tongue went back to town, flicking over your clit as his fingers curled into that sweet spot deep inside you. Your back arched of its own volition, your entire body tensing as Mando rocketed you to your climax.

“Can’t wait anymore.” Was the only warning you got before he pulled away, leaving you to flutter around nothing, and a high whine left your throat as Mando leaned over you and yanked your thighs up to hook further over his hips. His lips fell to yours and you groaned at the taste of your arousal, your hand cupping his jaw and reveling in the scratch of his stubble against your skin. The heavy weight of his cock pressed against your thigh until he angled himself to press right against your entrance, and - 

“Wait!” You gasped and Mando froze entirely. You reached between you to grasp his cock, groaning at the thick girth that you knew would split you open beautifully. “Let me... let me make you feel good, too.” 

“Won’t last, mesh’la,” Mando growled, his forehead pressed to yours as he fucked into your hand despite his words. For just a moment you thought you had him, had gained some modicum of control as you stroked him with a firm hand, but he batted your hand away to pin above your head. “Need to bury my cock in your tight little cunt.”

“P-please! I need it, I need you to fuck me full.” You mewled so prettily for him and Mando broke. 

The sound that left him was pulled from his very core, an almost feral growl radiating from his chest and leaving you shuddering underneath him, ready to beg until he finally shoved his cock into you, but before you could get a sound out you were flipped you onto all fours. You tried to steady yourself, to press your weight into your hands so you could grind your ass back against him, but a rough hand shoved between your shoulder blades until your face and chest were flush against the blankets beneath you. 

“You want me to claim this cunt?” Mando breathed into your ear as he settled his chest against your back, gliding the head of his cock through your slit teasingly. A dark chuckle followed your pitiful whine. “Oh I think I will. Stuff you full of my cum so everyone knows who you belong to.”

Mando pulled back and steadied a hand at your hip, the other pulling your cheeks apart as he finally slid home. Inch after devastating inch filled your cunt, the familiar stretch on just the right side of painful. A sinful, wrecked groan came from behind you and despite yourself, despite being face down ass up for a warrior, you felt powerful. 

“S-so fucking tight,” Mando stuttered out as he gave a small push forward, pressing even further into your heat despite being buried to the hilt already, short, aborted thrusts as he tried to let you adjust to his girth. 

“Please, please, please,” You huffed out with each exhale, and if you were in your right mind you might have been at least slightly embarrassed by the desperation of your begging, but you were aching for him to move. You clenched around him, reveling in the punched-out sound it drew from him, and finally, finally he drew back halfway to shove back into you sharply. 

Mando didn’t fuck you - the word ‘fuck’ wasn’t enought to encompass the way he drove into you over and over, shoved you further into the sheets with his teeth buried in your shoulder. You wanted to be destroyed, and Maker did he deliver, pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you and making your writhe beneath him. It took a moment to find your voice amongst the harsh thrusts, but the sound of you whimpering ‘Mando…’ over and over had your lover delivering a sharp swat to your ass before yanking you up by your hair and bracing your ass on his thighs, his pace unfaltering. 

“S-such a sweet little thing,” Mando stuttered, one hand holding you by your neck, keeping you flush against him, and the other sliding down to toy with your clit, those calloused fingers rubbing in tight circles until you pressed your head to his shoulder and wailed. “Sound so pretty for me.”

You wanted to tell him how good he felt stretching you out, how much you loved this, how much you loved him, but there was no speaking when his thrusts punched the very air from your lungs. So you buried your hand in his hair and tightened, rolling your hips into every push of his own. The sharp pull of his hair seemed to egg him on and his hand slid up from your throat to tilt your head and capture your lips with his. 

The angle was awkward, the kiss all teeth and tongue, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Mando drank in your every moan, every whine, and sang out his own in response, poured them out in a never ending stream that left you washed out in pleasure and pride. You reduced him to this. The tight clench of your cunt around him left the strong warrior slashed down to his most base instincts, left him to bury himself in you over and over as if he couldn’t bear to hold back. 

Your begging was almost incoherent, words broken off halfway with each harsh thrust, but it all melted into one low cry when Mando toyed with your clit and ground against that sweet spot against you and you broke. The only thing that kept you upright was Mando’s strong grip on your body as your pleasure crested, sparked out all across your body and left you weak in the aftermath of ecstasy. Your hand fell loose in his hair, still tangled in his curls but just barely staying put. 

Mando laid you down almost sweetly, flipped your weak body around to lie on your back and settled between your thighs. He growled low in your ear when you hooked your ankles over his lower back and whined so prettily for him as he pushed himself deep into your cunt - right where he belonged. His thrusts were shorter, stunted in his relentless chase for release inside of your body, leaving you hanging in the precipice between pleasure and overstimulation. 

“Feel so good,” You whispered in his ear, gasping when he buried his face in your neck and latched onto your skin with rough presses of teeth and tongue. The pace of his thrusts stuttered when you clenched around him, urging him to let go.

“Where?” Mando grunted low into your skin, unable to find the words to finish his thoughts but you knew. You knew what he wanted, the desperate want you both shared.

“Inside!” You gasped out in a rough voice, almost desperate in tone, and locked your legs around his waist tighter, using the newfound leverage to meet each of his thrusts. “Please, please cum inside me.”

The choked off sound in your ear was downright addictive and paired with the airtight grip on your hips as he pressed flush against your body and flooded you with his release....well, you wouldn’t be able to live without it, without him. Mando collapsed, crushed you underneath his weight with his cock still nestled in your tight heat. Maker, he was heavy but you never felt safer. He panted in your ear, the ghost of each breath curling across your skin like a loving caress and you could feel the curve of his lips where he smiled against you, a smile you matched. 

Your fingers buried in his hair once more, scratching against his scalp in slow, gentle circles, and the delighted whimper he gave sounded like it came from anyone but the rough and tumble warrior who just railed you into oblivion. One of his hands writhed up between your chests to cup your breast, the gun-calloused skin of his palm a harsh contrast to the soft, unmarred skin of your chest. 

“Mando…” You chuckled in a tone of warning when those fingers tweaked your nipple, sending sparks echoing across your skin. 

“Din,” He grunted in your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and worrying it with his tongue, only pulling back when you made a small noise of confusion. “Din Djarin. You should know the name of the man who claims you.”

Your heart stuttered, racing to match the pace of your thoughts. This...this was a huge deal for him, you knew that. Your arms tightened around him almost of their own volition as it hit you - this union meant as much to him as it did to you. 

Mando - Din was yours. 

You were his. 

“Cyare,” Din whispered at the small noise that left you, propping himself up on his elbows to hover over you despite not being able to see you. You followed his movements as best you could, not wanting to jostle around enough for his softening cock to slip from your body.  “Are you okay? Was...Was this not-”

“No! No, I...damn it,” You stumbled over your words in your rush to reassure him, reaching up to hesitantly place your hands on either side of his face, giving him plenty of time to stop you in case you crossed a line. He didn’t. Rough stubble met your fingers and you laughed wetly in disbelief. You couldn’t believe your luck. “I love you. I have from the start.”

Din’s breath caught in his throat and he pressed his face back into your neck as he returned the sentiment, his words muffled and cracking under the weight they carried. You giggled at the way his tongue met your neck, surely adding to the multitude of marks he already left there, but tilted your head back for more access nonetheless. He was right - he laid his claim on you, buried his seed as deep inside you as he could and left the imprint of his teeth across your skin for all to see. 

“A clan of three, right?” You said before kissing his temple, yours eyes slipping closed as your exhausted reared. 

“Yes, sweet girl. A clan of three.” Din rumbled. The vibration of his chest only lulled you further into slumber and the last thing you heard before the sleep overtook you was Din whispering, almost to himself, “My own little aliit.”

[autisticandroids]

anyway ok so lets talk about ruby SPECIFICALLY in my good s6 au. this ruby concept is almost the same as @lesbiansamwinchester‘s ruby lives au but has some key differences, mainly ruby doesn’t redeem herself in s5. lucifer raises her in sympathy for the devil because she really was the best of those sons of bitches and she deserves it but she spends all of s5 conflicted in her loyalties because while she really DOES want lucifer to win she is also In Love With Sam, Unfortunately, and gets more and more uncomfortable with sam being lucifer’s vessel and shit. and then she finally betrays lucifer in like, two minutes to midnight or swan song and he IMMEDIATELY kills her (very important: lucifer must already be possessing sam when this happens). then she’s brought back like. face down in a ditch 300 miles away. that’s how ruby ends season five.

anyway watch this video to set the mood. ruby stuff in season six:

- so at FIRST she is actually running around with a ragtag group of lucifer loyalist demons led by meg. meg kind of hates her for betraying lucifer for sam but also you know sam’s dead and ruby won’t do it again and most importantly they need EVERY pair of hands on board for this. so ruby is kissing huge amounts of ass mostly meg’s, like, meg is making her wait on her hand and foot in an apron. it’s comically villain homoerotic. you know. like ruby serves meg tea in a maid outfit for no other reason then as like. ridiculous humiliation that’s also intensely, weirdly horny. like the lucifer crowley dog stuff in s11. actually meg literally makes ruby wear a dog collar with a little tag that says like, “ruby. if found, please call 666 and return to owner (meg).” i cannot stress enough that this is just STUPID horny for NO reason. you guys know what i mean. it’s basically sorority hazing but up to eleven because demons, and also forever. also meg makes ruby kiss her hand at least once. or like no she makes her kiss her boot. i am having too much fun i’ve gotten distracted.

- ruby finds out sam is alive and immediately ditches. like she just fucks off to nowhere and they can’t figure out where she went. anyway this samruby reunion takes place like, before the first episode definitely, maybe a few months.

- i do like @lesbiansamwinchester‘s thing where ruby tries very hard to be sam’s moral compass but also imo she fucks up, very bad, and a lot. and soulless sam can’t really catch her at it so they end up doing a lot of very fucked shit actually. but she tries very hard because she cares about sam and she wants him to think well of himself y’know. and she wants to be someone who sam would think was worth following.

- re: that last point. many thoughts. head full.

- when sam and dean finally see each other again ruby is there and dean is like what the FUCK. like he did see that she betrayed lucifer for sam at the last minute but also he hates her and doesn’t trust her, and he actually kind of suspects that whatever’s wrong with sam might actually be HER fault. 

- this post is relevant.

- okay but i’ve decided that the cas/meg kiss DOES in fact happen in this au because i do kind of love it and also more importantly, with the addition of the insane meg being ruby’s shitty ex vibe that i am jamming into this au with both hands, it is just. chefkiss. ruby and dean look at each other in horror while sam is just like huh? i’m sorry but imagine being ruby and being forced to watch your horrible ex get kissed dommily by castiel. god this is funny i love this. again this is all in subtext because we are imagining cw censors and i’ve used up my one allotted gay kiss for the season by having anna make out with a random woman at an orgy to prove that all angels are degenerate pansexual hedonists, you know. (is this homophobic enough for the cw? i hope so!) also: an orgy which balthazar organized and cas refused to attend, to be clear. 

- dean is actually garbage enough about the whole ruby thing that sam and ruby fuck off by themselves for a good while like, maybe three or four episodes, leaving dean alone or sometimes with cas. during this time dean gets a little bit involved with the angel revolutionaries.

- anyway when sam gets his soul back he’s like, torn, between dean and ruby. he feels guilty for how he behaved towards and thought about dean but he would ALSO feel guilty just kicking ruby to the curb.

- HOWEVER when he gets his soulless memories back he does kick her to the curb because she has done some REALLY fucked up shit while trying to be his moral compass like she is BAD at it.

- once ruby is left all alone in the world, guess who shows up in a flutter of wings and ambiguity! it’s anna! 

- she is here to ask ruby if she wants to spy on hell for the angel revolution. ruby accepts because everyone else hates her right now. if anna wants to take her in under cas’ banner (and not tell the winchesters because they’re technically on the same side but what’s a little subterfuge between friends) ruby will take it.

- ruby and anna DO get to have some fun agent runner/agent lesbian subtext, as a treat! at least when anna isn’t busy eating food out of lisa braeden’s fridge like villanelle and other nuts things. 

- like i do wanna be clear anna just. appears in lisa braeden’s kitchen, slowly, wordlessly eats her leftovers while staring her down, and then flies away. this contributes to lisa’s impending mental breakdown. MY season six is about the madness of the suburban housewife, among many other various things.

- also i want to be clear that raphael’s side is actually like, funneling weapons to the lucifer loyalist demons to try and get them to defeat crowley but it’s all very hush hush, like, raphael would NOT want his underlings to know that he has organized this, like, they can barely stand to work with naomi. the fact that raphael had naomi organize help for DEMONS is unthinkable. anyway it’s basically celestial iran-contra.

- ruby is actually one of the last people to stick by cas even when like, anna and balthazar are betraying him, because like. whomst among us has never wanted to become god a little. and also, ruby is weak to authority figures we KNOW this she might be down to accept cas as her heavenly father a little, she’s NOT a rebel. but most importantly she sticks by him because, you know, i love sam and he’s mad at me for kinda betraying him and you [REDACTED] dean and he’s mad at you for kinda betraying him like we’re all winchester derangement syndrome patients here, and also like. i get it. sometimes they don’t know what’s good for them. sometimes in order to love you have to betray a little bit.

- ruby doesn’t turn on cas until he breaks sam’s wall. but by then it’s too late and there’s nothing she can do really.

- the parallel where it was dean who stabbed ruby in lucifer rising and it’s sam who stabs cas in the man who knew too much is actually intentional this time and WAY more aggressive. actually there are tons of cas-ruby parallels. i think meg should call ruby a whore like one episode before crowley calls cas a whore just to hammer it home. i think the thing where soulless sam runs away from dean’s judgement and is running around with ruby while dean is sulking about it but also running around with cas is super aggressively obvious. god i love that ruby’s existence makes it super obvious that cas is dean’s [REDACTED]. that’s so fun. 

- this has been an intensely hypertextual romp and it’s apparently nearly fifteen hundred words, good god. anyway, special thanks to @lesbiansamwinchester, @pietacastiel, and @seragamble, all of whom brainstormed with me

[queen--of--maggots]

Did the SPK know that Near killed Mikami?

Matsuda stated at the end of the manga that Near might have killed Mikami with the Death Note. There are several hints that this is the case and barely anything, which speaks against it. If you are interested, check out the analyses by casuistor and mikami about this topic.

Let’s just say he did it. Killing Mikami is something Near could have done without involving the SPK. This raises the question, were they aware of it or not? Considering their behavior, they knew it. But before I come to this, I’ll start with the arguments which speak against it. There are two legit reasons why he wouldn’t have involved them.

First, they could have moral concerns and, in the worst case, stop the cooperation with Near. This is not very likely, though. Near would have chosen people who value the results over the means. It is clear from the beginning that solely clinging to the law will be impossible if he follows in L’s footsteps. Therefore, surrounding himself with people who have a problem with illegal actions seems contra-productive. We can also see in canon this was not an issue. Halle and Rester abducted Misa. They even admitted that they would have used the force of arms if she would have been uncooperative. They didn’t protest either when Near wanted to imprison Light in a private facility. (Near has the same right to do this, you have the right to kidnap someone and held them captive. None.) Also, Near’s defeat would mean they are all going to die. This and the fact that Mikami would face an execution anyway if convicted probably help to overlook the immorality of sacrificing his life. Morals in general are a good thing, but are they worth dying for? I guess moral concerns can be ruled out.

The second reason is the risk, which comes with involving more people. The more people know about the plan, the higher is the chance of someone slipping information, accidentally or not. If the Task Force finds out what Near has done, they would most likely quit their cooperation. It would also give Light the opportunity to make it look like a complot against him since Near could have used the Death Note and the manipulation ability to fake the evidence he needs. So this argument is legit. But wait. It is legit for Halle and Rester. Gevanni on the other hand... Gevanni was the one who made the fake Death Note. It is physical pretty much impossible to duplicate the book exactly in one day since it does not only involve writing names but copying the book itself. (I wrote something about the topic here.) The best he could possibly have done is a mediocre copy, which wouldn’t fool Mikami. Also, Gevanni must have been aware that Mikami would probably test the Death Note before going to the warehouse. He observed him for weeks and knew him well. Unless Gevanni is incredibly stupid, he can only come to the conclusion that Near’s plan is doomed to fail. So, informing him about the manipulation is less risky. Otherwise, facing potential death could make Gevanni’s behavior unpredictable, and Near doesn’t need something like this endangering his plan.

What about Rester and Halle? Rester helped with the Death Note copy, but it is unclear how much he knew about Mikami. Keeping certain information restricted to certain people is a better strategy than telling everyone everything, especially after the incident with the spy. Therefore, it is likely that Rester only had basic information about him. If this is enough to figure out that Mikami won’t fall for this trick can’t be said with certainty. What can be said is that Rester’s behavior in the warehouse indicates that he knew it too, regardless. The way Rester and the SPK in general handled Mikami is wrong on so many levels, which can’t be a coincidence. Let take a look at the mistakes.

After Mikami tried to kill them a minute ago, Gevanni and Rester handcuff him, but with his arms in front of his body.

While handcuffs in front of your body restrain the movement of your arms, you still have a good range and mobility with them. If you handle a potentially dangerous person, which applies to Mikami, you put their arms on the back first before handcuffing them. This makes the arms almost useless.

They do not search his long coat for Death Note pages or other weapons, like a knife, nor do they check outside for something like this. (His briefcase is still outside. It could contain a weapon or real Death Note pages.) Up to Kiyomi’s abduction, Mikami only showed Gevanni what he and Light wanted him to see. How can the SPK be sure that Light’s plan did not involve a plan B in case something goes wrong? How do they know that Mikami did not come up with a plan B on his own after realizing he lead Gevanni to the Death Note? Maybe it is not very likely that Mikami prepared a trap or that he had something in his coat, but how can they be sure without checking? They can’t. This situation could decide between life and death. Searching his coat and outside takes a few minutes, death is permanent.

They do not force Mikami in a position, which would give them more time to react in case he does something, neither do they force him to hold his hands in a position where they are visible. Mikami is standing for the most part. This is the worst possible position. It allows him to charge at someone or make a run for the door, giving the SPK almost no time to react. Usually (if the handcuffs are on the back), he should have been forced to lie on his stomach. Or, since it is not possible with the hands in front of him, they should at least have made him sit in a way, which allows seeing his hands at any time.

Rester doesn’t aim his gun at Mikami. In fact, he put it back into his holster. The only one with a gun is Gevanni, who doesn’t pay attention to Mikami.

If Mikami would do something, Rester and Halle have to draw their guns first, unlock them, aim, and shoot. Gevanni has to turn around, aim and shoot (if his gun is unlocked). This, plus the few seconds they need to realize what is going on, would take way too long in this situation.

When Mikami gets angry at Light, no one tries to intervene. Look at his face, look at his anger.

How do they know his aggression won’t result in an attack? He is potentially still dangerous. Yet they let him yell at Light without trying to calm him down or stop him otherwise, like threatening him with a gun, for example.

Now the biggest mistake, no one is paying attention to Mikami. Gevanni stands behind Near and only watches Light. After handcuffing him, Rester is the responsible one. He stays close at first, and it looks like he’s holding onto Mikami’s coat. Shortly after, he is only standing behind him, later he moves a bit away, and when Light tries to write their names down, he goes to Near, leaving Mikami completely unattended. (Why though? Standing close to Near won’t save him.) After Light is lying on the floor, Rester stays with Near instead of returning to Mikami.

During the whole time, even when he is still close to Mikami, Rester seems to be focused on Light. If Mikami wanted to do anything, the lack of attention would give him the opportunity.

Halle is just a bystander throughout the whole scene. But she would most likely notice the mistakes and point them out if she was unaware of Near's deeds. I mean, her life depends on it. She doesn’t do this, though, and like the other, it looks like she is only focused on Light.

The SPK members are ex-FBI and CIA agents. They are experienced in what they are doing and should know very well how to deal with dangerous people. All the mistakes cannot simply be explained as rookie mistakes. Unless they got suddenly struck hard by pure incompetence, it is more than likely that Rester, Gevanni, and Halle were aware that Mikami is now harmless. And the only way this is possible is that Near told them he used the Death Note.

I also want to give you some speculations about the possible consequences of the careless handling if Mikami’s was not manipulated.

First of all, his arrest pushed Mikami into a corner. Most people would experience some degree of panic in this situation. In this state, actions aren’t always logical. Relying on assumptions about what he is going to do would be insanely stupid. No one can predict his behavior here and exclude, for example, the possibility that if he is going to die anyway, he decides to take someone with him.

However, in the manga, he doesn’t seem to be in a complete state of panic, which allows him to think rationally about his options. While doing anything in Mikami’s position is risky, he has nothing to lose anymore. If he dies now or if he is executed later, the result is the same. But ensuring Light’s survival is also Mikami’s best chance of getting out of this.

I already mentioned it. In the best-case scenario, Mikami could have hidden Death Note pages in his coat. The SPK never checked this, and Mikami is also allowed to switches positions freely. He stands mostly, but shortly after he was arrested, he kneels on the ground. Then he stands up again, and after his outburst, he sits down. Partially, his body is hunched over.

This, the position of the handcuffs and the general lack of attention are perfect. If he kneels on the ground and bows his upper body down, he could write on a page while his head, hair, and coat obscuring his actions. As long as he moves slowly, without drawing attention, he could write all names on a page before anyone notices it.

Even without a page, Mikami still has options. During Near’s explanation about the fake Death Note, he realizes that he made a mistake and that Light was still able to kill Kiyomi, which means he had access to a Death Note page. Extrapolating from this fact that Light, even now, most likely has at least a piece of a page with him isn’t that difficult, and Mikami is intelligent. Now everything Light needs is time to write the names down. I would estimate he needs about one minute for the writing plus 40 seconds until everyone is dead, so roughly 1.5 to 2 minutes. Mikami could buy him the time. Everything he has to do is distracting everyone. Keep in mind, Mikami’s actions won’t necessarily ensure his own survival, but a, let’s say, 20% chance to survive is still better than 0%. Plus, his actions could at least save Kira and with him Mikami’s ideals of justice. Of course, this won’t work anymore when Light already lies bleeding on the ground, but there was plenty of time before that.

Mikami isn’t far away from the door, about one tile, which equals roughly 2 m, using Rester as measurement (see side note below regarding the positions). Two meters are two big steps, that’s it. The door opens sideways, which could slow him down slightly, but he still should be able to get outside. Running away would most likely cause some distraction. I assume Rester and Gevanni would follow him. The other ones stay behind. I could also see that Matsuda or Aizawa start an argument about the careless behavior of the SPK causing this in the first place. Some time would certainly pass until everyone calms down.

Another option is attacking someone. Near or Halle would be the best options, but Halle is too far away and Near sits in Gevanni’s line of fire. The next best option is probably Gevanni since he appears to be less muscular than Rester. Gevanni stands between Mikami and Near but slightly behind them. Mikami could try to tackle him to the ground. The best possible outcome would be that Gevanni drops his gun within Mikami’s reach while falling. Being armed would surely draw all attention toward him.

Mikami could also try to grab Gevanni after he fell and use him as a shield in case the gun is out of reach. If he manages to put his arms over Gevanni’s head, Mikami could possibly use the handcuffs to strangulate him. Potential injuries from the sudden fall and the oxygen deficit could make it harder for Gevanni to fight back (He had most likely combat training, which would give him otherwise an advantage). A human shield would prevent the others from shooting Mikami immediately since they don’t want to hit Gevanni. If Gevanni can fight back, staying close to him could still have the same effect. Ultimately, even if Mikami is too slow and gets shot, ending up injured or dead, Light would still get a bit of time to write due to the distraction.

With this being said, two questions still remain. First, if the mistakes are so obvious, why did the Task Force not intervene? They have good reasons not to do so. Mogi and Aizawa were on Near’s site. They trusted him to have a plan here. The way the SPK handled Mikami could have been part of it. Maybe Near wanted to provoke a certain reaction from Light or Mikami. They don’t know. Since interference could be problematic, Mogi and Aizawa wouldn’t do anything as long as it looks like Near is in control of the situation. Matsuda tried to stop Mikami from writing down names at the very beginning just to be threatened at gunpoint by the SPK.

Being put in his place once should be enough not to try it a second time and leave matters to the SPK. Ide either trusted Near as well or witnessing the reaction to Matsuda’s interference was enough to stay quiet, maybe both.

The second question is about Near’s intentions behind involving the SPK. As I said earlier, this comes with a risk. My best guess is based on their behavior. They are all focused on Light which makes sense. Mikami isn’t a threat here if manipulated Light is. If Near never informed Rester and Halle about Mikami’s condition (I assume it is necessary to inform Gevanni), they would have become wasted resources. Rester, who was responsible for Mikami in the warehouse, would only have an eye on him. Maybe Halle would switch her attention between Light and Mikami. But since Light is highly intelligent and could have a backup plan, it is better if all three SPK members observe him instead of only 1.5.

Overall, it seems very likely that the SPK knew about Near manipulating and therefore killing Mikami with the Death Note. Because otherwise, it would mean they are all incompetent, which is something I find hard to imagine. Near wouldn’t have chosen people who don’t know how to do their job properly, right?

Also, I think the alleged reckless behavior of the SPK adds further evidence to Matsuda’s theory.

Side note: Obata was very inconsistent while drawing Near’s and Mikami’s position in the warehouse. Near doesn’t move at all, and Mikami stays in one spot after he was handcuffed, yet the panels show them teleporting all over the place. You can see this here:

The panels are in chronological order. I did not include all panels, which show them. The distances between Near and Mikami change, as well as the distance between them and the door/wall. Also, the relative positions to each other vary a lot. Sometimes Mikami is slightly in front of Near, sometimes Near is in front of Mikami, sometimes they are at the same height.

The most realistic positions for them based on how often they were draw this way are:

Mikami: close to the door since he didn’t walk very far away from it (about 1 tile, 1 tile = ~ 2 m)

Near: about 1.5 tiles away from Mikami, which equals about 2.5 tiles away from the door

Both are more or less at the same height. Gevanni stands between but slightly behind them and closer to Near. Maybe he moves around a bit.

Even if the drawing shows otherwise, these are the positions I was referring to.

[dorki-c]

My Guardian Demon |Chapter 1, Part 2: Two Dreams

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X (Reader)

Rating: 16+

A/N: Hey! Hey! Hey! Everybody! I just wanted to let you all know that in the beginning of this series like prologue story arc wise, I will only be highlighting the main points of said story arc.

TW: Suffocation and depiction of injury!

[Masterlist] [<--- Previous| Next --->]

(Song reccomendation for this chapter: Feeling Good by Michael Bublé)

PROMPT QUESTION FOR THIS STORY ARC: Are all demons ‘bad’?

When leaving the school gates with a silent warning that he gave to (y/n), there were a few minor details bothering him when traversing through the empty streets leading home.

At least he was able to walk alone to clear the commotion of todays events.

Sure, Izuku was used to Bakugou’s harassment towards him. For the most part, his mind always filtered out the nasty phrases that were thrown at him for the longest time.

However, what Bakugou had said was completely out of line.

Telling Izuku to commit suicide? Wow, what a great friend he was (if you could even call him that…).

Though the green-haired boy could easily say that about (y/n) as well. Even though its him and his stupid demon against society.

Was he sure that something may happen today? No, absolutely not. Even when turning a corner of the semi-suburban area that was closest to Aldera Junior High school, Izuku isn’t clairvoyant to anything that involves him.

Nope, not at all.

Even when making his way under the dark tunnel (to which he ignores his demon trying to hold him back from going in there, saying something along the lines of “W-w-wait! I don’t want to go down this way…”), Izuku still holds his head up high and ventures down the tunnel.

Like I said before, the green-haired boy isn’t clairvoyant that involves around him.

Plus, that shouldn’t exempt him from being cautious about what might lurk in the shadows.

Until this point, (y/n) only spoke in short sentences, though the only thing that caught Izuku off guard was the shaky utterance of “Izuku…L-Look behind you!”

He regrets looking behind him; A thing manifesting as a large murky green glob, paired with two large eyes and razor layered teeth (that scarcely resembled shark teeth), loomed over the 14 year old’s body.

I-I-It’s a villain!

As soon as Izuku blinked, one moment he was free and scrambling to his feet (fearful of the sludge villain) and the next, his body was trapped in something slimy… The green sludge body dripped with viscous thick globs as it wrapped like a vice around the boy. With a waterfall of pleading cut short and shown through desperate green eyes as Izuku squirmed annoyingly to the villain, there was no chance of escaping because he would be dead “in a minute” tops.

In a vain attempt to free Izuku from the grasps of the villain, the demon’s futile attempts to scratch away at the slime, only resulted in their misty hands to pass through the slime like their hand was non-existent.

Fuck—If a damn hero isn’t going to save Izuku, then it has to be his demon’s duty to do so.

Though it’s quite challenging for (y/n) to grip Izuku’s shoulders and pull him forward, it doesn’t have enough energy to stall for time.

 Was fate cursing (y/n) again? The sun was up high in the sky, yet it always deceived the unguarded and weakest of them all. Didn’t it? If it wasn’t for the saving grace of a frisbee object hitting the villain in the eye, the sludge villain recoiled backwards and (thankfully) released its hostage, where the boy’s limp body met face first into the pavement.

.

.

.

Staying close to Izuku’s unconscious body, (y/n) watched as the pro-hero blatantly invaded their owner’s space and didn’t hear their screeching of something along the words of “DISGUSTING!!!” and “AAAAAAAH BEGONE! BEGONE! BEGONE!!” And the boy wasn’t woken up because of the cheek slaps, it was because of (y/n)’s obnoxious protests of the pro-hero’s cheek slaps.

Let’s not forget the loudest sigh released by the demon when one, Izuku (finally) woke himself up, and two, when that (god forsaken flimsy, annoying, outrageous) hero, was actually the number 1 hero, has retracted his hand from the demon’s owner.

(And (y/n) definitely called the number one hero “a filthy maggot that is followed by an equally filthy contra-” before they were tuned out of Izuku’s ears.)

“Ah! Thought we lost you there!” Announced the hero (to nobody in particular).

This, unfortunately, caused Izuku to pale- where it practically looked like his whole face lost all of its colour, including his eyes- and for (y/n) to think (if they even have thoughts in the first place…) that if there was a camera pointed straight at their face, it would show the most horrifying deadpanned expression on the demon’s non-existent face which would break the camera lens.

Screaming and scampering backwards, Izuku only managed to utter the words “C-C-CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH!!” before seeing his notebook (which was coincidently fish food a couple of minutes ago) signed by the hero and bowing to said hero out of gratefulness, although knowing their owner; (y/n) figured that Izuku would obviously cherish this autograph as a ‘family heirloom’.

(Izuku may or may not have blurted that out in the moment. Oh well. You can’t take everything you say back.)

.

.

.

“I have a question…” Murmured the green haired boy as the hero turned tail to “deliver this villain to the police station!” Sadly, the hero didn’t hear him and was about to leave the boy, where his demon was shaking their head in disappointment- “Why bother asking him?” Whispered (y/n), leaving the faint trace of their empty temperature to scarcely brush his cheek, “The man in front of you is a mere façade of bravery.” - it’s not like Izuku cares about his demon’s opinion.

Even when it’s in situations like this.

(And by situations, I mean when Izuku and his demon are clutching for dear life on the infamous hero’s legs when flying more than fifty feet above the ground.)

Looking below his feet, Izuku is always reminded that great power also has a greater price to it.

And well, All Might would probably agree (if it weren’t for being airborne).

Additionally, why did it look like you were enjoying him scream in fear for his life, when you know that if he dies, you die too.

(Was his demon secretly a sadist?!)

.

.

.

The landing was rocky and rough, but at least his feet managed to stand on their own after a few moments of wobbling and the small rub of your hand against his to beckon him to stand “tall and proud for being uniquely him”.

Glancing towards the hero, (y/n) scoffed in disgust at the retreating soldier whereas Izuku only begged him to “Wait,” continuing along with an unspoken prayer casted off to the sky and “one second!” to remain.

“No!”

It’s typical of a hero to say that word, but situations like this aren’t.

“I don’t have any time.” --- “I have to know!” --- “Why do you bother with him, Izuku?”

The years of quirklessness weren’t new to him. Though he wanted more.

“Even if everyone thinks I’m useless…” Izuku wanted more fulfilment for himself.

“Despite what anybody thinks.” (Y/n) wanted freedom for themself.

“I need to know.” The two of them had dreams.

“Is It possible to become a hero, without a quirk?” Even with a fearless grin, the man before the aftermath was the symbol of peace.

Well to put it simply, the embodiment of peace was secretly a human coat hanger. Now, how would the murky red demon and green haired boy react to said human coat hanger?

Uh…Yeah, they’re both screaming; Izuku was doing it out of horror, (y/n) was doing it out of disgust.

(This is a typical occurrence.)

“WHERE’S ALLMIGHT?!” The worn-down skeleton of a man looked like a couple of popsicle sticks were stuck together with Elmer’s glue as the artist called it a day. Looking left to right, then again, and finally- just for good luck- glanced left and right, as society always said, “Third time is the charm”.

“You! You’re not him!” Izuku profoundly screeched, where in fact both his demon and scrawny adult rolled their eyes. “Izuku, you don’t even have his birth certificate to prove that he—” Though poor (y/n) got cut off by Allmight proclaiming “You know how guys at pools like to suck in their muscles and flex at the same time?” The flaxen haired male then said “I’m kind of like that…” which did nothing to soothe the teenager’s shock.

“What! No! Allmight isn’t some scrawny—old—depressed looking human being!” Oh boy, your owner was as stubborn as an old mule.

“Izuku, stop what your—” Again, (y/n) was cut off by another person, “All Might’s is a hero with a fearless grin who beats every obstacle!”

.

.

.

“Kid, there’s plenty of fear behind a smile. Don’t be fooled.” The rustling of a white shirt caught the attention of the demon and human alike. And what it revealed…well…it was pretty nauseating.

“Pretty gross, isn’t it?”

The merged sickening stitching of skin pulled together in a makeshift attempt to preserve as the hero’s body, at the epicentre of the wound was a thick encircled glob of pink that seemed to allow an abundance of conjoined violet speckles to extend outwards in an attempt to infect the rest of his body.

“I got this in a fight around five years ago.” Relaxing his body, and moving the shirt downwards, the hero continued, “My respiratory system was destroyed, I lost my stomach, and the rest is history.” Even if his shitty joke didn’t lift the depressing tone of reality, all Izuku could do is stand there in shock—maybe a tad bit of horror— however he would’ve never thought that the one and only top hero of Japan had an injury!

(Izuku’s naïve thinking always rubbed his demon the wrong way sometimes.)

“W-wait! Does that mean Toxic Chainsaw gave you this injury!” Chuckling and turning his glance to the side, All Might shook his head. “I’m impressed, you know your stuff- however, that punk couldn’t land a couple hits on me, even if they wanted to.” “Most of the world wouldn’t have known about this fight, regardless of how much you dug through any news articles.”

(And most of the world would’ve never known about the deadly purple miasma growing on their precious hero’s body.) .

.

.

“This job isn’t easy, and to be nice—” At least Izuku would listen to All Might, whereas he ignored you at least 50% of the time, “—I think you would be better off picking a better profession, like a Police officer!”

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

“I mean he is right…” (Y/n) said to Izuku, as they continued their trek back home, with the boy loathful to agree at the red mist’s statement.

“Heroism isn’t easy.” Maybe he should give up his dream?

“You saw how disgusting his wound was.” He could be horribly injuried like All Might if he tries. “It’s practically oozing with miasma.” But Izuku can’t bring himself to give up his dream.

And if Izuku ever asked you to give up your dream of freedom, you would answer back with defiance.

“I know it isn’t easy (y/n).” 

 “I know I could die or get a wound like that.” 

“But I’m not giving up on my dream, if you aren’t going to give up on yours.”

Alas, the gloriously golden sun highlighted the features of the old dusk that was soon turning into their new dawn. 

(And might I say, if society got in their way, they will pay their dues the hard way.)

Taglist:

@glitterfreezed, @izukubabe​, @sweater-weather-seven, @nyanyabisjjj, @quietlegends, @dragonsdreamoffire​, @candybabey, @honeylavender13​​

CREDITS:

All content and art used within this story belongs to their respective owners. PLAGARISM WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!

Art credits: Dorki-C and @glitterfreezed​

[MASTERLIST OF “My Guardian Demon”]​ [MAIN MASTERLIST]

[ladynestaarcheron]

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Thirteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti ​ @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me)

my eternal thanks to @thestarwhowishes for being my wonderful beta. and to you all for being my wonderful readers<3

chapter thirteen, without further ado!

---

 November 7 - 4 years after

 It’s early morning when he arrives in Velaris. He’s exhausted, having spent a long day in the Illyrian mountains after flying back from Gilameyva. It is miserable to be back in the mountains, and more miserable still to arrive in Velaris and learn that it’s not any better.

       If anything, it’s worse. Because he had expected to be happier here than in Illyria—who wouldn’t? The two barely belong in the same court, with one so picturesque and overflowing with joy and the other  a messy series of war camps, still bleeding out from the hasty stitches patched upon it after the rebellions—and he isn’t. He can’t be happy anywhere, now.

       “You’re back.”

       Cassian turns to see the surprised pleasure in Mor’s voice echoed on her face. He gives her an easy grin. “Miss me?”

       She slugs his arm lightly as she grins back. “Not particularly.” Her tone changes, more gentle. “How were they?”

       He stifles a sigh. He worries he might break down sobbing if he lets it out. “They’re… amazing.”

       “Good,” she says, rubbing her hand on his shoulder. “That’s good.”

       Cassian sits himself down in one of  the large armchairs, draping his wings over the back. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s good.”

       She curls up on one of the couches beside him. “You miss them.”

       It’s not a question, so he doesn’t answer. Just nods his head a little.

       He’s heard before, that people who don’t have children simply can’t understand. He has, privately, rolled his eyes. For he has loved before, has he not? Rhys and Az and then Mor and even Amren, and the whole Illyria and the Night Court and Feyre and then for those few months with her in the mountains, he had loved Nesta.

       This is not the same.

       He doesn’t miss them. That’s not nearly enough. But he’s never been one for words, so the slight nod is all he can give.

       “Did you ask her to bring them for Solstice?”

       He frowns slightly; he doesn’t like how she phrases it. It isn’t consciously done, he knows. Mor has no malicious intent. But he doesn’t like the implication that she is bringing them for them, the children, to be here, and not them, a family unit that is he and Nesta and the triplets, to be together.

       But he supposes she is right. If Nesta comes, it won’t be for her sake. Not for a them.

       “I did. She’ll think about it.”

       Mor’s better at hiding her frown than he is, but he can still see it in her eyes.

       “It’s her right to say no,” he defends. Which he doesn’t like. He doesn’t like it because it’s true and it might happen and also because he doesn’t want to have to defend Nesta to Mor or Rhys or Amren, or even Az sometimes. At least Feyre and Elain love her too, and they have some semblance of camaraderie with him in that.

       He doesn’t like it rather selfishly: he wants to defend his right to have his family for Solstice, but because his other family doesn’t see Nesta as part of them, he has to defend her.

       Cassian wonders, briefly, if this is how Feyre ever felt. Trapped between two realms, two families. Or maybe even Rhys.

       “I didn’t mean it wasn’t,” she says carefully. “Just… you’re their father too.”

       “It’s different.” He looks at his hands, callused and scarred. “Even if I had been with them since they were born… I still wouldn’t be with them all the time.”

       “You’re keeping them safe,” she says. “You’re keeping the world safe for them. That’s important too.”

           Sugar Valley is safe, he thinks, but he keeps it to himself. No one will mind, of course. They will be sympathetic. They’ll think he’s bitter, upset, think they can help him get past his guilt and move on.

       But he doesn’t think it ever will. And the thought of staying anonymous in a sleepy town across the sea winks at him from the dying starlight as the sun rises over the Sidra.

---

 November 21 - year after

 The cheery pastels of the clinic were not helping to improve Nesta’s mood. Nor were the mother and child, hand in hand, waiting across from her.

       The child blinked up at her from long lashes, blushing slightly when she made eye contact. She looked away in alarm as he gave her a pleased grin.

       There should be a different room for children, she thought. When people were coming for… this.

       It wasn’t that she felt guilty. She just didn’t want to think about it.

       So she counted the sugarberries painted on the walls, and before long, Dadashov called her name.

       “Good morning, Miss Archeron,” she said smoothly. “Can I offer you some tea?”

       “No. Thank you.” How could she eat anything now? With every movement of her stomach feeling like something entirely different than butterflies.

       “All right, then,” she said. “If you’d lie down, please...”

       Nesta did, fidgeting with her skirts.

       “How does the… procedure… how do you do it?”

       “Well,” Dadashov said, hooking some wired contraption around her ears, “The procedure itself is only a tonic. A bit sour. You’ll stay here for a few hours, until the worst of the cramps have past, so I can keep an eye on you, and you’ll be home by afternoon. Rest for the next day or so. Until you feel yourself again. Before that,” Dadashov continued, either completely oblivious to or respectfully ignoring Nesta’s panic at feeling herself again, “I’ll need to do a quick check to make sure everything is in order.”

       “Everything in order? With me, or…?”

       “Certain conditions in the uterus rendering this particular tonic unusable or harmful to your body are rare but not unheard of. And we’ll need to make sure the fetus is in its correct position.”

       “Where else would it be?” she wondered.

       “Let’s not worry about that now,” she said gently. “I’m going to listen in, all right? I have this sheet… if you could raise your skirts, please… thank you. This won’t hurt a bit; it’s only rather cold.”

       Nesta sucked in a breath as Dadashov placed the circle her wires are connected to on her lower stomach. Cold was an understatement.

       Dadashov was silent for a few moments as she listened to… Nesta wasn’t sure.

       “Hm,” she said quietly.

       “Everything all right?” she asked, feeling stupid.

       “Well,” she said, taking off her contraption and sitting up. “The heartbeat is irregular.”

       “Irregular?”

       “Erratic. Wild. No discernible rhythm at all, actually.”

       Nesta’s own heartbeat sped up, though she wasn’t sure why. What did it matter if the heartbeat wasn’t normal? It wouldn’t be beating by sundown, anyway. “What does that mean?”

       “A number of things. What I’m most concerned about right now is the natural state of your uterus. It could mean it’s shaped improperly or perhaps a growth pressing up against the fetus, preventing it from growing properly and affecting its heart rate. No cause for concern,” she said, giving Nesta a reassuring smile. “I’m calm because you are clearly healthy and if anything is amiss, I am here and we will take care of it. How is your cycle normally?”

       “Um,” Nesta said. “Normal. It’s normal, I think.”

       “Twice a year? About a week?”

       “So far,” she said.

       Dadashov smiled again, her light blue eyes twinkling. “Of course. My apologies. Until your transition, did you experience your cycle once a month?”

       She said everything so calmly, so smoothly. Transition. Like some kind of choice. Or moving up in the world. “Yes. Well. Not every month. Sometimes… but that’s normal. Sometimes human girls miss a month.” A horrible thought struck Nesta. “Is it… could it be something I did? With… a contra—”

       “Neither sex nor contraceptives could have a misshaping effect on your body, Miss Archeron,” she said firmly. “This is no one’s fault. I’m going to do a test. I’m going to be looking inside your body.”

       “Inside my body?”

       “Perhaps you’d like to close your eyes,” she said kindly. “It’s not horribly invasive, but it will feel odd. No, no, you don’t have to move. It’s a bit of magic. I put it on top of your lower abdomen.”

       On top of her… to look inside her body… “Are you going to see...” Nesta trailed off.

       “Perhaps you’d like to close your eyes,” she repeated.

       Nesta did. Dadashov moved quickly, quietly, which made it rather eerie when something suddenly settled atop her. A bit of pressure, squeezing her—odd, not painful, just like she said.

       “Ah,” Dadashov breathed out.

       What was that Nesta could hear? Was it… awe?

       “What is it?”

       Dadashov was silent for a beat. “Miss Archeron, there is nothing wrong with your body. The heartbeat was irregular because I was hearing more than one.”

       “You mean mine?”

       “No,” she said, patient. “Not yours.”

       Her heart gave a lurch. “You mean… twins?”

       “No,” Dadashov said, softer still. “I mean triplets.”

       Triplets.

       Triplets. Inside of her. Right now.

       Nesta could feel her mind shut down. “You mean three of them?” she blurted out, in the most idiotic way she possibly could, her eyes flying open.

       “I do.”

       Nesta closed her eyes again.

       “Would you like to see?” she offered quietly.

       Nesta put her hands right over where… where they were supposed to be. She sat up abruptly.

       “No,” she said. “I need to… think.”

---

 November 7 - 4 years after

 He can’t concentrate during the briefing. After being with them for so long… and then coming back here… it’s too much. He’s angry at himself; what if he misspeaks? What if he misses something? This is dangerous.

       But he can’t help it. His thoughts are elsewhere.

       Nothing had taken away from his love and devotion to this court, to his people, his legions, before. Not even Nesta.

       That’s why she had left. He never could find the balance.

       Not like Rhys and Feyre, seated next to each other, the perfect mix of professional and adoring. Strategic discussions and little touches here and there: her hair, his thigh.

       Is he even a good commander if he can’t concentrate?

       They can sense it, all of them. It’s an odd display of cautionary tact that comes up now, whenever Nesta and the children are involved.

       So Cassian’s not surprised when Rhys corners him after.

       “I’m out of practice,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the sparring ring. “Join me?”

       So he does.

       He’s better than Rhys at hand-to-hand, and it does force him to concentrate on something else, which is… nice.

       When they’re done, half an hour later, Rhys says, “How did it go?”

       Cassian looses a breath slowly as he swirls around the water in the cup Rhys hands him. “So well,” he says, all the gratitude in the world in his voice.

       “That’s good,” he says, echoing Mor’s sentiments from earlier.

       “I need them.” He’s never said it aloud before.

       “I know.”

       “All of them. Nesta too.”

       “I know,” Rhys repeats. “That’s why I want them here.”

       Cassian snorts. “You want Nesta here?”

       “I want you here. Happy. And Feyre. Elain. She’s a part of that. And I’m certainly not suggesting we move the children back and forth.”

       Cassian pauses. “I don’t know if… Nesta… could be happy here.”

       Rhys is quiet for a minute, drinking his water. “I don’t know her very well,” he says finally, “but I think anyone could be happy here. Given the correct circumstances.” He hesitates. “Have you thought about… getting an apartment?”

       Cassian clenches his jaw.

       “You said you want her to come for Solstice. I doubt she’ll want to stay here. Or the townhouse. Or the House of Wind. Maybe you should have a place that’s just for you.”

       He does like that—that Rhys says you as if there is a them. Perhaps he understands, in a way Mor does not.

       “I wish they got along,” he says aloud.

       “Who?”

       “Nesta and Mor.”

       Rhys laughs. “Maybe Emerie can bond them.”

       He doubts it. The idea of Nesta and Mor being friends is too ludicrous to even entertain. Neither of them are particularly keen on forgiveness, and they have plenty of reasons to loathe each other. Most of which he doesn’t understand.

       “I think she’ll come,” he says.

       “You do?” Rhys wouldn’t give him false hope. And he genuinely doesn’t know the answer.

       “I do,” he says. “Mostly because Feyre thinks she will, too,” he admits. “But also… I don’t know her well, but I do know enough. I know she’s scared to fail her children.”

       It’s a chilling line, miserable to hear. Cassian doesn’t want Nesta to come because she’s scared of what will happen if she doesn’t; he wants her to want to come.

       “There’s a place I think you’ll like,” Rhys continues, either unaware of Cassian’s reaction or respectfully ignoring it. “Property just went up for sale. Four bedrooms. Nice yard. Good location.” Rhys gives him the address.

       “I’ll look at it,” he says.  Four bedrooms, he thinks.

---

 December 19 - Year of

 Despite what Nesta told Emerie before her dinner with Cassian, the past three weeks had not been fake cordial. They hadn’t even been real cordial.

       They had been… friendly.

       They had breakfast together, when he was there. And dinner, too. He always had dinner ready for her when she came home.

       (That was something alarming: she began to think of coming back to Cassian’s house as coming home.)

       He brought her more books to read. He didn’t speak of his brothers or her sisters. Neither did she. They talked about food. About the going-ons in the neighboring camps. About themselves.

       He still teased her, but when she snapped at him for it, she wasn’t really angry.

       She had almost forgotten they were supposed to be treading on eggshells until he reminded her.

       He said, “I need to go back to Velaris. For Solstice.”

       Her eyes flashed, but she was still staring at her book, so perhaps he didn’t see. “Oh, when is that?” she asked, in a would-be casual tone. She knew full well, and he knew she did, too.

       “Two days.”

       “Oh.”

       Perhaps the both of them were thinking… no, they were both      definitely     thinking of their last Solstice together. If they could call it that.

       Then it was Cassian’s turn to pretend. “Do you want to come along?”

       Nesta put down her book and leaned back against the couch. “No,” she said, looking up at the ceiling and locking her fingers behind her head. “I think I’ll stay here.”

       “All right,” he said evenly. He sat down beside her—a little closer than he had ever done before. “Well, I leave you then with this… to keep you company.”

       Nesta looked down at his outstretched hand.

       The chocolate bar. The one she still hadn’t touched.

       A wry sort of chuckle escaped her as she rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks,” she said as she took it from him, her fingers jolting as they brushed his.

       He grinned wickedly. “Anytime.”

       She dropped her gaze quickly. “You’re bothering me.” She took her book back.

       He laughed. “I’ll see you in a few days, Nes.”

       “Don’t call me that,” she grumbled.

       But again, it was only halfhearted.

---

 November 21 - 1 year after

 What Nesta wanted when she stumbled out of the clinic was somewhere quiet, alone, to gather her thoughts. Or scream.

       Instead she got that deer-satyr from Sugar Books, holding up a cup of something steaming.

       “Hey,” he said pleasantly. “I was just coming over to bring you this.”

       “Oh, for the love of all that is holy,” she said under her breath. Louder, to him, she said, “I really can’t right now.”

       “Just a drink,” he said, holding it out to her. “Do you like chocolate?”

       She bit her lip. She did like chocolate. She did not like feeling like she owed males something.

       “Just take it,” he encouraged. “And come on. I can show you some place nice to sit.”

       It wasn’t that she wanted to go with him. It’s that she had nowhere else.

       “I don’t know what to do,” she said, not realizing she had spoken aloud until he answered.

       “About what?”

       “I don’t...” she mumbled to herself. “I don’t think… I can’t...”

       “Woah, Nesta. Here. Sit down. Here, drink some of this.”

       It wasn’t the same. One was quiet, a bad memory, hazy. Something she could convince herself didn’t happen.

       But three? Three was so… real. Three different beings. Three different people! How could there be three people inside of her, growing and feeding off of her? All together? How small must they be, for them all to fit?

       And they all had heartbeats. Three tiny hearts, beating out of sync with each other deep inside her. Each of them with its own rhythm, its own strong pulse.

       In another life, another world, another body, three sisters had once shared a bed. What would have happened if they had shared time in the womb? All three of them, together?

       Sisters deserved beds of their own, that much she knew for sure.

       Three was too much. Too much to think about, and yet too much to have.

           Bad things come in threes. Didn’t they say that? People said that, she was sure of it.

       Maybe, she thought wildly, she could keep one. Just one. And the others… somehow…

       No. That was crazy. She couldn’t do that. Could she?

       And how would she choose?

       “I can’t do this,” she said again.

       “Nesta, please, drink this.” Zayn wrapped her fingers around the cup. “Go on, drink.”

       As the hot, berry-chocolate drink slipped down her throat, she realized three other people were going to have it, too.

       “I—I,” Nesta stammered.

       “What is it?” He sounded too eager. Was that concern?

       “I… I have to… get a house.”

---

 November 8 - 4 years after

 Rhys was right. He does like the house.

       It’s a great location. Comfortable walk from the bank of the Sidra he always sees families play. Close enough to the Rainbow that they can walk there, too. A bakery on the corner, a butcher’s just beyond, and a market a block down. And a nursery, too, just three streets away.

       It’s spacious. Big windows and less doors than there are rooms. There’s a proper dining area—Nesta’s house doesn’t really have one, just the table in the kitchen.

       Of the bedrooms, two are a bit smaller than the third, so that, he supposes, is where the children can stay while they all sleep in the same room. A nice tub in that bathroom, which is good, they’re still small enough that they bathe together…

       And he’s just pushed open the door to the master when he hears Amren say from behind him, “In the market for a family home?”

       He turns. “Are you? I thought Varian was looking romanced last I saw him. That explains it.”

       She rolls her eyes where she once might have bared her teeth. “Close to a nursery,” she says, pushing past him to stand in the room. “And you can see all the way to the park from here,” she adds,  peering through the window. “Good for if you’re staying in bed.”

       Now Cassian rolls his eyes, if only to hide the clench in his jaw.

       “Is she coming for Solstice, then?”

       Amren says it the same way she says everything: cool, detached, unbothered. But Cassian knows. “She hasn’t given me an answer yet.”

       Amren pretends to take interest in the sample decorative pillows. “What do you think she’ll say?”

       “I don’t know. Yes, I hope.”

       She puts down the pillow. “You’re too hopeful. It doesn’t help you think.”

       “You’ve not asked about her at all,” he says, sitting down on the bed.

       “I don’t think there’s anything I want to know.” She doesn’t say it with malice.

       “You don’t care?”

       “She’s alive. She’s fine.”

       “We thought she was dead.”

       “We were wrong.” She pauses. “If you had known… where she was… would you have gone?”

       “Of course,” he says immediately.

       “Why did you not go when you knew she was in Montesere?”

       He flinches. Do you even care about her? is what she’s asking. Is it only for the children?

       Every regret he has has something to do with her.

       “Why didn’t you go?”

       “I do not go now,” she says simply. “I was angry when she left. When we thought she was dead and we looked for her I was angry. And I’m angry now.”

       “She’s not the only one to blame.”

       Amren shrugs. “I can be angry at more than one person. Don’t sit on the bed like that.”

       “Like what?”

       “Longing. Yearning. Pathetic.”

       “I’m not yearning.”

       “You are. It doesn’t flatter you. Nesta will come.”

       “How do you know that?” She sounds so certain, so matter-of-fact and cavalier.

       She gestures to him. “It’s not one-sided.”

       Cassian moves his eyes out towards the window, feeling very out his element. “She has a life of her own.”

       “I know about her bookstore. That doesn’t matter.”

       “It matters.”

       She waves a hand. “Not in the grand scheme of things. Nesta Archeron is very much herself. She doesn’t change. She decides on things before she knows she wants them. And she doesn’t change her mind.”

       Amren leaves him alone with his thoughts. She’s simplifying things, he knows, but he desperately hopes the core of it is right.

       She had asked him why he didn’t go. He waits in masochistic anticipation for the day Nesta asks him that as well. Why he had not followed up on her letters, vague and frustrating as they were.

       There’s nothing he can really do about it now. Except maybe make an offer on the house.

---

Chapter Fourteen

[pinelife3]

What’s this Pizzagate in the heart of nature?

The big tech story in Australia last month was Facebook’s decision to restrict people and organisations in Australia from sharing or viewing news content on Facebook. This was in response to the Morrison government’s proposed Media Bargaining legislation which is basically a Murdoch-serving law to try to get tech companies to pay media organisations for news content hosted/linked/displayed on their sites and, most galling of all, share details of their algorithms with Australian media orgs. The idea that Facebook would have to notify NewsCorp every time they want to tweak their algorithm is patently insane. So I admire Facebook’s petty, dramatic manoeuvre: “if the way we share news on the site is such a problem then fine, no more news for you”. After all the fuss, the Australian government agreed to amend the Media Bargaining legislation - evidently with terms more agreeable to Facebook, meaning news has been restored to Facebook down under. 

One of the key responses I saw expressed in relation to Facebook’s initial news eradication was concern that disinformation would be able to spread more easily on the site - and that people wouldn’t be able to rebut disinformation with factual news articles.

So far as I can tell, the proliferation of disinformation online wouldn’t matter if people didn’t believe it. And most especially, if people didn’t want to believe it. After all, the web is full of persuasive writing and people who want to convince you of things - for whatever reason, conspiracy theories just seem to be very alluring. So rather than trying to protect people from their own stupidity by hiding disinformation... maybe we could look at why people are so credulous in the first place. Deep state? Jet fuel can’t melt steel beams? CIA Contra cocaine trafficking? The great replacement? Pizzagate? 

I’m going to class conspiracy theorists into three categories of my own making:

I believe: well meaning, uninformed people who have been fooled or duped. The fraudulent 1998 Lancet paper by Andrew Wakefield which started the vaccines cause autism conspiracy was actually written to support a class action lawsuit. Wakefield knew the results in his paper were not true: in addition to his conflicts of interest, he had falsified data. The paper was eventually debunked and retracted but the conspiracy had its roots and has continued to grow. I think a lot of the people who believe that vaccines are dangerous are parents who are just worried about their kids - and also want to protect other kids from a threat they believe to be real. Why is one debunked article more persuasive to people than a million proving the efficacy of vaccines? It is literally beyond reason.

It suits me to believe: people motivated by self-interest who adopt a conspiracy theory to support their larger world view. Their self-interest could be anything from their own ego to gun rights. The conspiracies around the Sandy Hook Primary School shooting are interesting because you can see a clear motivation for people to subscribe to that theory rather than the truth. If you’re a keen gun-owner, arguining that the shooting was a hoax to generate anti-gun sentiment and thereby allow the Democrats to pass harsher gun restrictions is neat and comforting. No one could argue that the events of Sandy Hook weren’t inhumanly terrible  - so the only option is to argue that they didn’t happen at all. Plus, in this worldview, no kids are getting hurt so you can sleep easy knowing you have seven semi-automatic weapons in the house.

I need to believe: the world is disorganised, scary, unknowable. Ocean deep, sky vast, dark impenetrable - and meanwhile our skin is so thin and delicate. So. Wouldn’t it be comforting to think that there’s a race of reptilian overlords that control the planet by whipping their tails against a complicated system of levers and pullies? That would explain a lot of the chaos in our world. Or maybe the problem is an elite coterie of Satan-worshipping cannibalistic pedophiles? If only we could defeat those accursed pedophiles then life would be peaceful. Luckily, Q and a septuagenarian reality TV host are here to save us. 

Across these categories, there are two unifying features: 

Rejection of widely accepted truth 

Investment in the conspiracy

As a comparison with the conspiracists above, here’s my take on a conspiracy: I think it’s quite probable that Epstein didn’t kill himself. I think that some powerful, shadowy entity took him out to protect itself. But I’m not obsessed by this idea. It would not surprise or upset me if this was officially confirmed - similarly crazy shit happens all the time. I haven’t devoted my life to revealing this truth. I guess I fit into the “I Believe” category: all official information says that Epstein took his own life but my scepticism of the unusual circumstances around his death and Epstein’s powerful connections leads me to doubt the official information. The difference is I don’t do anything about it. I don’t really care if I’m right or not - I’m not that invested in the conspiracy.

And that’s why it seems ludicrous to me that Facebook should be tasked with combatting the conspiracy theories spiralling across our culture. Simply being exposed to bad information does not radicalise you, does not conjure an investment in the conspiracy. If a normal person reads something creatively wrong or misleading they discard it from their mind. If it hits a chord with them, they may adopt that opinion themselves - see: astrology, Armie Hammer as cannibal, tarot cards, essential oils as serious medical treatment, etc. But the evolution from agreeing with a thought to militaristically insisting that the rest of society also agree with it is an abnormal progression. That strange impulse runs deeper in people than their Facebook timeline.

Most people have fears for the planet or believe there are major issues plaguing humanity - and we never do anything about it because it would be mildly inconvenient or because it’s too hard to care about every issue under late capitalism: 

"But sorting my recycling is boring”

“Yeah yeah fast fashion is problematic but H&M is just so affordable" 

"Of course I hate R.Kelly! But ‘Ignition (Remix)’ is my jam” 

“At least they have suicide nets in the Foxconn factories now”

“I only buy free range chicken thighs because I care about animal welfare”

“I retweeted that thing about anti-Black racism. Yay racism solved!”

There are probably lots of people who believe in conspiracy theories but are ultimately apathetic about doing anything: they can’t be bothered talking about vaccines and politics all the time, can’t be bothered going to a protest, can’t summon the interest to care much. So what’s interesting then is that across the three categories of conspiracy theory belief (I believe > It suits me to believe > I need to believe), what a person believes in, and perhaps even the reason for the belief, doesn’t create any impetus to enact real world change. On both the left and the right, the impulse to do something about an issue is rare. Do you think conspiracy theorists, like the left, have a problem with performative activism? 

Imagine that you agree that Sandy Hook was a false flag, that ‘they’ hired crisis actors to publicly grieve as if their pretend children had been murdered... do you then get in your car and drive overnight to Sandy Hook and start harassing those crisis actors at the pretend funerals? What do you call someone like that? The hero of their own story.

Just wait!

In their worldview, QAnon are unironically trying to save us from pedophile cannibals. Given what conspiracists believe to be true, they are acting in good faith and doing the right thing. If you believed this shit, you’d be upset too. The fact that they’re doing something about it is kind of admirable: they don’t want our babies to get autism from the measles vaccine, they don’t want a deep state to manipulate our democratic governments. It’s existential for all of us - we just don’t agree on the threat. 

Can you imagine how electric the riot at the Capitol Building must have felt for the people who led it. Brave, romantic, a grand gesture: it was like their Storming of Tuileries. Remember this day forever! 

Modern conspiracists are actually similar to the sans-culottes in terms of being avid consumers of propaganda and inflammatory reporting. Disinformation and stirring rhetoric are not new - but shouldn’t people today be less clueless than 18th century peasants?

Why are there are so many people who believe things which are untrue? They exist on this planet with us but interpret it so differently. These questions really are existential: an ancient, echoing maw pointing to the heart of human nature. The struggle for a more perfect world, whispers about where the danger comes from at night, arguments about how to protect ourselves. 

Has there ever been a society where people didn’t have differing views on how best to shape the world? It’s the central conflict of human existence: epic, older than language - and now we want Facebook to fix it?

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Diplomat’s Son & Roi (Peter Parker's iPod, Part 11.)

Description: Blip was hard. Dating MJ was a pleasure in Parker’s life, so it was even harder when she told him that things aren’t working as she anticipated - one month before college. Although they remained friends. But Peter isn’t too sure if he can handle liking yet another girl.

Part Summary: Peter hoped that everything can last forever - but he was lying to himself. When MJ finally figures out his deal, he is not in such a pleasant position - either, he has to tell you or MJ would. But telling you proves to be much more difficult than he thought.

A/N: I would say that this is some very light smut. Very light tho. Also, yes, I am aware that this playlist slowly turns into the tracks from Contra and Modern Vampires of the City by Vampire Weekend. But you cannot stop me. Also, if my calculations are right, Peter is like... Almost 19? Maybe even 20? I am lost in the timeline ffs. So WORRY NOT, IT IS LEGAL.

Word count: 4.1 K

Tagging: @fanboyswhereare-you, @lukesbabylon, @eridanuswave​

Master list: H E R E

MJ was watching every move Peter had made over the next two weeks. You knew about it, but you didn't say a word. You didn't know what Peter had done, but it seemed to be quite personal. And when something was personal between those two, you knew that you don't want any part in their beef.

Peter tried his best with being secretive while visiting you. Sometimes, as the weather got better again, you started to sneak out of the room more and more often, having Speedy showing you the best views in the whole New York. Sometimes, he bought you some of the best sandwiches in Queens, sometimes you got a pretty decent milkshake and some ice-cream.

But MJ wasn't dumb. She was a lot of things, but not dumb. Over time, as she continued with finding your room empty with your room empty and window open, she had her suspicion. And Peter was officially damned when she noticed a web hanging from the wall next to your window once she was watching a movie there with you.

It was one May morning when she was waiting for him. You were by his side, and for a reason, you had a feeling that there was something that needed to be resolved between MJ and Peter. So you just ran after Ned, telling him something about Lord of the Rings.

“Okay, Peter. I was leaving it be for a long time. But you should speak your colors finally.” - She told him, tugging him aside, next to the fountain. Peter gave her an unknowing look, furrowing a bit. But he was pretty nervous - MJ could tell based on how he hugged himself and stepped aside, tugging the strap on his shoulder a bit. Even if they weren't dating anymore, she still remembered every reaction.

“You and Y/N. What's that about? Do you think I don't know?" - She crosse her elbows on her chest, staring at Peter. Peter wanted to tell her how wrong is she, but MJ was quicker than him. - "Webs around her window, her being gone through most of the time, especially during nights, she tells everyone she does but doesn't date anyone... Parker, I know you dragged Spider-Man into this. All I want to know is what you are you trying  to archive here."

At that moment, Peter knew that MJ is onto him. She knew what was happening. And MJ knew, obviously for a long time. Parker knew that it is too late to lie to her. but how on Earth should he want to speak his mind?

"MJ, I swear that I don't want to hurt her. I know you think something like that. No. I would never." - Peter starter to stutter out, looking MJ in the face. But she didn't seem to be convinced at all. With a long exhale, she told Peter to continue with his story. - "It crossed my mind a long time ago and I told myself that its not a bad plan. I just wanted to get to know her, ask her out and stuff and I didn't know how to do any of that."

"So Spider-Man came in handy as a romance tool, is that right? Peter, this is fucking stupid." - MJ rolled her eyes. She could barely express how mad and disappointed she was with Peter. But there was no way on Earth that she'd bitch him down. Oh no. Once you'll get to know, Peter was fucked. Yeah, once you'd know about all of that, you can bitch Peter down all by yourself. - "Do you realize how much she'll be hurt once you tell her? And I'm not even speaking of the fact that if someone with dangerous connections would get to know, she could be harmed and maybe even killed. Parker..." - She sighed.

"You have to tell Y/N. The sooner, the better. And if you're too scared to tell her, she would get to know. And if it would take her more time, I'll be the one to tell her." - She told Peter with a firm tone. So, that was the last stop officially. MJ didn't play around with this sort of stuff and she wasn't just blatantly threatening Peter. She wasn't the one to do this kind of stuff. Peter could be sure that once is MJ's patience is gone, she is going to tell you everything.

"I don't care how you're going to do all of this, but fix it and be quick." - She told him the last thing she wanted to and left to catch up with Betty who was waiting for her at the fountain. To be honest, Peter didn't want to go to school at all. Now when he knew that MJ knew this secret and she could tell you every time, Peter didn't want there at all. So he just turned away from the building and walked home.

Because you weren't dumb, you noticed that Peter didn't come to literature class and that he didn't even was there when lunch came by. - "I spoke to Peter in the morning, didn't I? Or am I paranoid?" - You asked Ned with a furrow, looking at MJ after that. MJ nodded and turned to Betty to scratch her back. - "He was there, we were walking down the park, we were talking and then he left."

"Maybe he wasn't feeling good." - Ned shook his head, giving you his lettuce so you could chew on it. MJ just nodded with her lips shut. - "But it would be fair if he'd at least say hi." - You mumbled, taking the vegetables, asking MJ about the last sociology class you had. It was quite late in the evening when MJ knocked on your door, watching you scrolling through HBO with a blank stare.

Something was really off that day - you got pretty used to Speedy coming two times, sometimes even three times a week - on Thursday and Tuesday. And it was Thursday and he was nowhere to be seen as if something happened. Usually, he let you know that he won't be coming over - he left you a small note under the window when he wasn't coming by. And this time, he just disappeared and didn't give you a hint.

"You good? Don't you want to re-watch Vampire Diaries with me and Betts?" - MJ looked at you on a Thursday evening, furrowing a bit, watching you covered with the blanket. She was sure that on that Thursday, Peter won't come to see you. He was too scared for that - in her opinion, it would take him at least three to four days before he picks up enough courage to at least look your way. But you sent a smile her way and shook your head.

"You sure? I mean, I would not like you to die here. Corpses rot pretty fast according to the research I've done." - The girl rose her eyebrows, laughing when you threw a pillow her way.

"Love you, girl." - She smiled nonetheless, closing the door for you. It could be around eleven when Speedy landed in front of your window. You were already fast asleep - and he even checked if MJ is asleep too. That was when he encouraged him to open up the damn window and sneak into your room, locking the door.

Peter thought that he's ready to confess - his identity, why he did what he did, he thought that he's ready to explain everything to you. He thought so emphasize that word. In reality, he was a mess inside. Many feelings were tearing him apart. The fear of losing you or that maybe you will think that he's a liar and a cheater because both of those names would be rightfully owned by Peter. Gently, he woke you up with pressing himself onto your back, kissing your neck.

"What the hell are you doing here so late?" - You mumbled into the pillow while the boy traced a pattern on your upper back. You needed your few minutes to wake yourself up.

"I couldn't fall asleep so I decided to visit you." - Peter whispered honestly, leaning his forehead into your shoulder carefully, waiting for you to gain some form of consciousness. You were just done for.

"How nice to wake me up this late when I have to go to school tomorrow, Speedy." - You mumbled angrily, finally turning your head to look at the smiling lips. Jesus. These lips were something - but you wanted something more. It was quite some time you two were meeting and probably if he wouldn't be such a gentleman, you would already do stuff together. It was quite obvious that this time, you're the one to do the first baby steps. - "You were only thinking about yourself." - You mumbled, pulling out a subtle smile.

"No, I just... I just wanted to talk with you." - He said sincerely, looking you in the eyes with a furrow. This was his chance - but to wait for what you had to say was a mistake. Because you made something different out of the context.

"But I don't want to talk." - You whispered back, scooping so close that you could feel him breathing. I probably was even that he woke you up - and in the night, you could be a greedy beast when it came to that.

To be honest, Peter wasnt the only one to feel the subtle click that happened one night. The feeling just somehow was there - it was that light feeling that made you feel that maybe, just maybe, you can do some stuff together. Something in your mind was making you keen on that mysterious boy - you only knew that his father figure was dead and that he was fourteen when he got all of these crazy powers. You didn't know anything more - but for a reason, you were attracted. He was almost oddly familiar as if you knew the smell and that smile, but you only thought that because you already knew each other for a fairly long time. You remembered the way he moved around your room and in the streets, you knew the way he smiled at you... You knew everything.

"So do you want me to leave?" - Peter asked nervously, still smoothing your shoulder because he didn't have any idea what to do or what were you talking about.

"I don't want you to leave either, dummy. Come here." - You mumbled under your breath, bringing him in for a kiss. Quickly, you closed your eyes, kicking the damned blanket off your bed, making him fall on you. Oh, Peter finally figured out that you didn't want to speak since you had something much different on your mind.

"Or... I mean... Do you want to tell me something? Something’s wrong?" - You asked worriedly, smoothing his back gently as you both tried to catch your breath.

"It... Can wait, I think. Nothing serious." - Peter stuttered out before you got into your all-time favorite position - the Spider boy was hovering above you, your knee was leaning into his hip and practically, he was pressing you down into the mattress. You nodded before clinging onto him, trying to bring him down a bit just to feel his body onto yours. You usually went in with some nice, soft, and slow kisses - that day, it seemed rushed, harsh, almost too aggressive. You even bumped into his teeth with yours once or twice. And that was when the craziest question just left your mouth.

"Do you think you can take this off?" - You asked with your eyes closed, tugging the spandex off of his body a bit. That made Peter open his eyes pretty wide, watching you. - "I mean, the mask can stay, of course. I just want to feel... You." - You opened up your eyes, smoothing his jaw gently. - "I'll take this off, of course. Let's just do this in underwear this time. I wanna see how it goes, please." - You begged.

Peter rolled his eyes under the mask, catching his breath. That sounded so nice. Just the idea of it made him smile a bit and his cheeks redden, immediately forgetting about the thing he had to say to you. - "Only if you won't make me talk when I do it." - He said shortly. There was still the little fear that once you'd hear his voice, it would all be out. You furrowed a bit at that, but nodded almost instantly, already sitting up to play some music.

That night belonged to Contra and Modern Vampires of the City, both albums by Vampire Weekend; since you grew to love them when listening to them with Peter a lot. Before looking at him, you smelled both your armpits and checked what underwear you had on. Well, since you forgot to take off the bra since you came home from school, this part of your body looked rather decent. Your panties weren't such a hit, but having hearts all over them was acceptable when you turned your head a bit and looked at him standing with his back to you only in his boxer shorts which were kinda too big for him.

And he had some really thin legs. He was cute. And so solid that your breath stuck for a while. You shifted your weight on your feet. Only the back had sent you to heaven. And woke you up definitely. You shot your look back in front of yourself, feeling your heart beating a bit faster.

"So, because we don't want this turn to a naughty shit show, Imma climb under the blanket. I promised not to look, but just to feel, yeah?" - You asked silently. Since he wasn’t speaking, as he said previously, you waited until he nodded, and then, you walked to the bed, picking the blanket from the floor and listening to Diplomat’s Son. Then you turned away, listening to the boy coming to the bed, feeling as the mattress got down under his weight.

Once he was giving you the vibe that he's ready, you looked at the parts your eyes had already discovered - his lips, jaws, and neck. The rest was still a mystery. But you jumped a little when you felt the contact of naked skin on your naked skin. He was so warm and his skin was so... Gentle. Except when you slowly dragged your foot on his calf, that thing was hairy and sticky.

You two forgot how to kiss or even breathe as you slowly put your palms on his waist, as you usually did during your sessions. You didn't even focus on if his muscles as hard as a rock, no, you smiled when your thumb found mold on his ribs and you circled it.

"You feel so nice." - You said quietly, kissing a small, sweet spot on his collarbone. Which made the boy give in into your touch, exhaling slowly with his eyes closed. - "And you smell nice too." - You smiled and bit him playfully, making him jump at the feeling of your teeth.

Jesus, he would like to tell you the same thing. That you look beautiful with your hair around your head like a halo, that your smell alone makes his head spin and that feeling your arch of the foot was making him excited. But he only leaned in to put his palm on your jaw so he could kiss you.

When Peter was sure-sure you don't mind it and that your eyes are closed for real, he let you bend your head so he could kiss you down on your neck, brushing the collarbone gently. It would maybe seem funny to other guys your age who had nightstands at parties and stuff, but for both of you, this was something extraordinary.

Sure, you were with guys before, but you never took it so slow. You knew Speedy since March, already, but you guys only made out. Most of the guys would bend you over in their super suit and then, they would disappear, never seeing you again. There was some kind of vibe that Gonzales isn't like them. But also, for men, he took it painfully slow. So this was the best first step you could make him do before pushing off from the cliff with something more.

You whimpered and moved a bit when his palm found your waist, having a joyful smile with your eyes still closed. Gently, you touched that palm, feeling the veins on it pretty intensely. - "Kiss me and close your eyes, okay?" - You whispered, looking at him. And he did as you told him, feeling as you moved the palm up to your ribs, then even more up under your armpit.

Without realization, he jumped a bit when he felt the material of your bra with his fingers, pushing his body into yours more, moaning into the kiss. And it was the sweetest and purest moans you've ever heard. Just when you wanted to move his palm even upper, he stopped kissing you and looked you in the eyes. Or at least you thought he did so.

With heavy breathing, he looked on his palm on that material, then looking you in the eyes. Slowly, you let go of that palm, palming his jaw again. You listened to the first notes of the Taxi Cab before you nodded. You were on fire at that moment.

"Just do it, I want you to." - You begged, putting your knee up to his waist so your foot was resting on his ass. Damn, that was a nice ass to touch. And Peter just did as he was told. And in the first moment, he couldn't even understand that he is holding your breast in his palm. At least until he squeezed and opened his mouth as he watched you bent your head backward, making the most erotic sound he had ever heard.

That deep moan sent shivers down Peter’s spine - and Jesus, he wanted more. So naturally, he leaned his weight onto his right elbow, still laying above you, palming it once again. Just as you swore each other, he didn't look at what he’s doing, he watched your joyful face. Carefully, he palmed your breast once more before he tried something he read in a magazine and tried only once. And he was worried that he's about to fuck it up.

To keep you moaning, Spider boy kissed a trail down to where his palm was while he pressed the palm down on your chest. Peter was pretty handy with making you occupied - so you couldn't say since when his palm was put flat on your abdomen, but suddenly, you could feel it there. Before you could protest, that boy shut you up with a kiss, getting your leg off his ass, smoothing the back of your thigh. The only thing you were capable of was to close your eyes when his lips gently touched your breast again.

You knew what he's about to try, so you circled a hand around his shoulder, spreading the legs a bit wider when Speedy’s palm pressed on your hip, playing with the hem of your panties. Just when he was about to do it, he stopped kissing your breasts to look you in the eyes. And dear lord, you almost went insane when he finally palmed your fanny. Peter watched every small reaction you could give him - but the hottest thing, except another quiet and deep moan, was your body leaning into the touch.

You couldn't breathe at that time. When he wanted to lean away from you a bit, letting go of that warm spot, you caught the palm, staring at him. - "It's fine. Please." - You whispered, kissing him again. Peter steadied himself, coughing a bit nervously, taking a deep breath when he slipped under the piece of cloth.

Oh wow, oh damn, the chaos inside him was... Wow. You were hot and wet down there - so much that it surprised him. It was a kind of a puzzle for a while to figure out the angle for further. When he brushed that spot, you let him know - you squealed and bit your lips harshly, your eyebrow knitting with concentration. You nodded when he tried it a few other times, picking up both the location of the bundle of nerves and speed you liked, bending down to kiss your breasts.

You soon started to travel a little, feeling as the spot between your legs started to get even hotter as the claims started to appear out of nowhere. Just when you felt that you cant do it for a moment longer, you made him shut you up with a kiss so you could moan into his lips as you palmed your breast, taking out the nipple. You could hear both your excited breathing, your moaning, his whimpering, and the fingers brushing that spot while Roi by VIDEOCLUB was playing.

It was getting more and more intense and extreme until you closed your eyes firmly, leaned from him and moaned oh fuck yes, oh, oh my God in various order possibly a hundred times. You were shaking, you couldn't catch your breath and your thighs captured his palm while he tried to do his best with prolonging that state you were in. The French rap in your ears got even louder than before and boy oh boy, you were seeing the stars. Everything just mixed up together and it was such a beautiful experience.

When you could breathe again, you smiled lazily. You were done for; dear lord, how much you wanted to repay Speedy, but you were out of order. You could barely move or breathe, you couldn't speak nor thinks. You just let him hug you as you brought him closer and kissed his cheek.

A few minutes after, you both got dressed up - you gave him some wet wipes to clean his hand before slipping into the suit, and even if you didn't repay him in any way, he seemed to more than fine with it. You were radiating with happiness when you put on a fresh, long shirt and a fresh pair of panties, leaving the bra behind. The room smelled like sweat, sin, and some kind of naughty activities.

"Did you... Really... I know its weird, but, did you..." - He mumbled from dressing up and you watched as the suit covered his back again. - "Are you asking me if I came?" - You whispered with a smile, waiting for him to join you in the bed. Before sitting next to you, he nodded, being red as tomatoes.

"I came. That was... One of the most amazing ones I had. Surely the wildest one." - You whispered and kissed his chest in the spandex once you both laid down again.

"I wasn’t sure what to do at all." - He chuckled lightly and you looked at his lips before you raised your stare to his face. Could he be honest with not having too much experience in this area? That left you in slight awe, honestly.

"You were doing great. What was that you wanted to talk about?" - You mumbled, putting your head on his shoulder. That made Peter get outta the trans rather quickly. His hand around your waist stiffened for a second. No way he could tell you at that moment. No fucking way. He just made you cum - no.

"Nothing. You wanna talk about something?" - He answered nervously. You grinned and nodded.

"I'll be out of New York next weekend, a need a little getaway. You up?" - You asked, making him terrified, but at the last moment, Peter realized you're just shitting him. - "You can have your suit on during the day and sleep only in underwear in the night. How does that sound?"

"I've never heard a better idea, Y/N. I've never heard a better one."  - Peter closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head, thinking about how fucked up he was.

[baebeyza]

I've finished watching TFA and I got 5 episodes into TFP, but I'm not so sure if I'm into it. Do you think I should keep watching TFP or try something else, and if so which continuity would you recommend? I was thinking of doing either the G1 cartoon or G1 IDW, but I'm sort of warming up to other stuff like Cyberverse and I could use comments/opinions from someone who's watched more

Oh well dear, depends on what you didn’t like or missed in those first 5 episodes!

For me TFP was my first transformer show and it was good enough for me to go full into the whole franchise and I would recommend it for newcomers.

For newcomers it has a small cast to get invested in, has a good grasp on the general conflict of most transformers shows and a good story to follow. I at least never felt like I needed things explained to me or that it’s something you get more off if you already know the franchise.

But there is always a difference between “this show is objectively good” and “I enjoyed it”. I do think that Prime is pretty well written, not perfect, but still awesome with great moments. Also the animation is EPIC, with some of the best fight scenes I’ve seen in years!

But there are other TF shows I enjoyed more, despite not exactly thinking they are better written. TFA for example! That show I enjoyed more because it was more fun and the characters had better dynamics and development. But the general plot wasn’t as intriguing as TFP in my eyes.

What I personally didn’t like about it (TFP) were:

1. The human characters arent really all that great. They get better and are important, but they can be annoying, especially Miko. (though she develops more than the other two)

2. The heroes lack good character interactions, they mostly feel like people stuck in a group project without much friendship behind

3. There are sub-plots I didn’t care much for (like the human villains)

So I dunno if you should watch the rest - remember that the first 5 episodes were it’s own little plot, and that with episode 6 the real one starts. Maybe that will be more to your liking! 

Personal enjoyment really depends on you and what you like too see though.

I for one like great character interaction, intense moments but also fun. Fun as in funny but also lighthearted, non-serious moments.

TFP does have good character writing and good character interactions with the villains at least. Not as much fun as TFA, but there are still some hilarious moments and characters. And the serious moments are actually really great! This show did have me on the edge on a lot of occasions, there is a lot of good escalations and “oh shit” moments.

But if you like really great character writing with great character interactions and dynamics, watch Beast Wars! It has some of the best character writing I’ve seen and also a really great plot! It takes a while to fully get into the meat and most of season 1 is built-up to that, but once it starts its a truly epic ride!

Beast Wars also has a good balance between fun and serious. If a show is just serious it gets tiring, but if it’s just fun and lighthearted it gets a little boring. Beast Wars has some truly intense moments that make me feel like crying thinking about them, but also a lot of funny scenes, mostly through character interactions, but also slapstick comedy.

The one contra people always bring up is the “bad” animation. And YES it’s bad for todays standards because we are used to seeing better, but just because it’s outdated doesnt mean it’s not good! Like give it a chance people, once you get used to it it’s not as bad. It won an award for outstanding animation back when it aired!

G1 is my favourite show though! Not because it’s actually good, quite the opposite - it’s silly and stupid, it makes no sense and it’s completely shameless in that regard and that way it is just a fun ride!

With no overarching plot each episodes has it’s own plot and drama and while most episodes follow the same format (for season 1&2 at least) it barely gets boring! The creativity of the show writers knows no bounds ~

G1 also made me love a lot of characters! Some I learnt of only from that show and some I already knew but didn’t care for before. (Like Hot Rod for example)

G1 also has great dialogue and interactions as well :D

Headmasters is a japanese show that continues after G1 season 3 (and ignores the american season 4) and personally I really liked it! Unlike G1, Headmasters has a plot and a really good plot that made you come back for more. I still had my issues with it, but those were mostly because of the changes they made from the G1 cartoon. Still recommending it though! Especially if you feel like you need something a little more sophisticated after G1 :D I mean it has death scenes, character depth and development and redemption! (PS: the hong kong english dub of it is shit, but people like it as a “so bad it’s good” kind of comedy. would still watch the japanese version first)

Robots in Disguise 2001 is also a show for newcomers, given that it’s the first one to have it’s own continuity after G1. Though know that this one is more for really young kids. There isnt much escalation or truly serious moments, it’s more fun and lighthearted. So as an adult I found it a little boring, but it’s still good if you like lighthearted stuff! And most of the characters were really cute! It has a lot of brothers too, so as a person with lots of siblings I enjoyed that aspect :D (PS: I watched the original japanese version here)

Beast Wars II (you don’t need to have watched Beast Wars for this) is similiar to RiD01, as in really lighthearted with little escalation and depth. It’s a little jarring though, the heroes are really bland and the plot doesn’t really start until halfway through the show. The first half being about introducing various character groups that end up being important in the end, but most of these episodes aren’t really entertaining, especially when you don’t care about those characters like I did. I’d say the best thing about this show are the decepticons with a really sweet Galvatron as the leader and his idiot little brother Megastorm (who can be read as a version of Megatron) and a Starscream whose a little shit like always but also has a friend he cares about!

If that’s enough for you, go for it xD

Oh and Optimus has a son here - the best and only character arc the heroes have to offer. Found it pretty cute in the end ~

Cyberverse was a “meh” from me though, mostly because it feels like fanfiction. Fanfiction doesn’t need to explain to you who the characters are, it is able to assume that beforehand. And Cyberverse does that, it assumes that you already know the characters and world. And like that it doesn’t really try to write things with depth, it feels all shallow. To me at least, I am aware other people love it.

It just didn’t vibe with me because I want the media I consume to shake me and make me feel things, I wanna be at the edge of my seat, I wanna be anxious about what’s gonna happen next!

That is a thing Prime Wars was able to deliver - the third season, Return of the Primes, at least. 

Though the Prime Wars Trilogy isn’t popular and has many flaws in storytelling, voice acting and animation (+ other things that have to do with expectation, which I don’t really consider flaws of the show itself), but I cannot help it, I still enjoyed it a lot ~ Also the whole thing is pretty short - 28 episodes, 8 of them 5-6 minutes long and the other 10 minutes. It doesn’t take long to finish it all. 

The only shows I truly didn’t enjoy are Robots in Disguise 2015 and Beast Machines - RiD15 is the sequel to TFP and mate if you already don’t vibe with TFP, just skip this one. I didn’t like it much because:

- The decepticons are all badly written, either completely forgettable, not given enough screentime or just kinda having their potential ignored. 

- The heroes never really develop - it’s a show with a lesson in every episode that get’s forgotten in the next. So you have the characters learning the same lessons all the time and I hate shit like that

There are decent episodes sure, and some really sweet characters, but overall it’s just not really good

And the last show I watched is Beast Machines, the sequel to Beast Wars with most of the same cast and some new characters.

And this is a show were I say that it had a good plot with good structure and conflict, but I didn’t enjoy it!

And I do try to divorce it from Beast Wars, but even then the flaws are still there. The biggest complaint I have is that the heroes are never in good terms with each other, almost every episodes has some of them being angry and fighting and that’s TIRING! NO FUN ALLOWED IN THIS SHOW! There is only one character who enjoys being in the show and he dies screaming.

The plot is also really philosophical and not really for kids that way. As an adult I did try to enjoy it, but the show has some flaws in it’s good vs evil conflict.

That would be it with the shows I watched!

As for IDW, I’m not really far with that so I cannot talk much. 

Hope it helped ~ But I would recommend that you give them all a shot, at least for a few episodes. I cannot claim to always be objective, even if I try my best at it

And yeah, my no. recommendation is Beast Wars, it’s really good!

[thinkveganworld]

CIA -Who Runs the Country?

These are portions of an article I wrote a few years ago on the fact that certain CIA officials’ believe CIA should run the country.  It’s based on work by the late journalist Robert Parry.  Parry was a Newsweek correspondent from 1987 to 1990. He was also at one time a reporter for PBS Frontline and and author of “Lost History” and  “Fooling America,” (1992) among other books.  He was editor of Consortium News.com and won the  George Polk Award for National Reporting in l984, and the I. F. Stone medal for journalistic independence in 2015, 

 Who runs the country? High level CIA officials have said the CIA, and not the president or other elected officials, should run the country and world affairs.  (This is still the prevailing attitude among many CIA officials.) In his 1991 book, “Trick or Treason,” Parry interviewed old-time CIA officer Miles Copeland. Parry discovered that Copeland strongly supported George Bush, who was CIA director in 1976, but distrusted Jimmy Carter because he found Carter’s idealism contemptible. Copeland told Parry: “The way we saw Washington at that time (1980) was that the struggle was really not between the left and the right, the liberals and the conservatives, as between the Utopians and the realists, the pragmatists. Carter was a Utopian. He believed, honestly, that you must do the right thing and take your chance on the consequences. He told me that. He literally believed that.” Parry writes: “With those words, Copeland’s voice registered a mixture of amazement and disgust, as if he were talking about a hound dog that wouldn’t hunt. To Copeland and his CIA friends, Carter deserved respect for his first-rate intellect, but only contempt for his idealism.” Copeland and his CIA friends supported George H. W. Bush in part due to Bush’s year as CIA director. Parry writes: “That, plus Bush’s schooling at Yale, a primary CIA recruiting ground, and membership in secret clubs like Skull and Bones, made the president a trusted figure to CIA veterans. I had been told that ‘Bush for President’ signs had been plastered on walls all over the CIA in 1980. Copeland was so personally impressed with Bush’s year as director that the CIA old-timer founded an informal political support group called 'Spooks for Bush.’” Another retired CIA man, Patrick E. Kennon, expressed the CIA’s view that CIA should run the country. Speaking about democratic elections in his 1995 “The Twilight of Democracy,” Kennon says: “Those societies that continue to allow themselves to be administered by individuals whose only qualification is that they were able to win a popularity contest will go from failure to failure and eventually pass from the scene.” The book describes Kennon’s typical CIA-man view: “Why have the most successful governments disdained the ideals of America’s founding fathers in favor of the sometimes cruel efficiency of authoritarianism? Because, Kennon asserts, the world has become so complicated, and the pace of change so rapid, that only highly trained, anonymous technocrats invested with enormous authority are capable of guiding a nation’s affairs. To trust unskilled politicians, vulnerable to corruption and ignorant of the most basic rules of governing, with the fate of a nation is, in Kennon’s view, the height of folly.” Both Kennon and Copeland repeatedly express contempt for democracy and idealism and support for a CIA-run country. Robert Parry writes that Miles Copeland shook his head from side to side in dismay as he lamented: “Carter believed in all the principles that we talk about in the West. As smart as Carter is, he did believe in Mom, apple pie, and the corner drugstore. And those things that are good in America are good everywhere else.” Copeland stated, “Carter, I say, was not a stupid man,” but added Carter’s greater weakness was that “he was a principled man.” (One problem with that theory is CIA has a long record of overthrowing democratically elected governments, lying to the public to involve us in illicit wars, torturing even our own citizens and many other egregious deeds.  They may be coldly efficient technocrats, but they’re not known for their humanity.)  Copeland said that during the Iranian hostage crisis, neither the CIA nor the Iranians wanted Carter to get credit for the release of the hostages. Both the CIA and the Iranians preferred Reagan get credit. Copeland insisted there was no formal CIA deal with the Iranians but just “a mutuality of interests.” When Parry asked Copeland how the CIA and Iranians came to agree to deny the hostage release to Carter, Copeland “only assured me that there were people deep inside the intelligence community who understood what had to be done for the good of the United States. He called the professionals 'the CIA within the CIA.’” Parry hoped to interview Miles Copeland in the future to ask which individuals of the “CIA within the CIA” passed on hostage messages. He wanted to ask why Copeland’s CIA friends were so sure the hostages would be released after Carter’s defeat. Copeland died on January 14, 1991, before Parry had the chance to do a follow up interview. When CIA representatives like Copeland and Kennon say the CIA is more qualified to run the country than are elected representatives, do they take into account the many CIA atrocities, including assassinations of democratically elected world leaders – atrocities that have become a matter of public record, acknowledged by CIA officials? When Copeland and Kennon speak of CIA concern for “the good of the United States” or protecting U.S. citizens, do they take into account the CIA’s own admitted abuses of U.S. citizens, including the CIA’s infamous MKULTRA program? Copeland spoke to Parry about controlling public opinion in Iran, about turning the crowds around, shifting public support from one dictator to another. Copeland said because Khomeni’s supporters in 1979 totaled a million people, the CIA couldn’t shift public opinion. Copeland said, “You don’t turn a million people. You can’t do it.” He said the CIA might have saved the shah from the Khomeni supporters except for Carter’s despised idealism. To Copeland and his CIA friends’ disgust, Carter criticized the shah for using torture and murder to keep Iranian citizens down. Copeland said: “There are plenty of forces in the country we could have marshaled. We could have sabotaged [the revolution]. But we had to do it early. We had to establish what the Quakers call 'the spirit of the meeting’ in the country, where everybody was thinking just one way. The Iranians were really like sheep, as they are now.” The CIA doesn’t confine its contempt for average citizens to Iranians. Apparently the CIA also sees American citizens as “sheep” and American public opinion as something the CIA must “manage” for the good of the country. Robert Parry’s “Fooling America” shows how the Reagan-Bush-era CIA pulled out all stops to control public opinion and the American press regarding Iran-Contra. Walter Raymond, Jr., served as the CIA’s chief propaganda and disinformation specialist before moving to the National Security Council in 1982. As top CIA officer assigned to the Reagan White House, Raymond helped manipulate public opinion by portraying the Sandinistas as “black hats” and the Contras as “white hats.” Parry writes: “As for the questionable legality of a CIA director assisting in a campaign to influence the American people, Raymond explained that [CIA Director William] Casey undertook those actions 'not so much in his CIA hat, but in his adviser to the president hat.’” Raymond, Copeland and Kennon typify the CIA view: Democracy should be superseded by a CIA-run government (complete with torture and assassinations), and the American people are “sheep” to be manipulated toward that end.

[codicesandflora]

Ineffable Inktober-Day Twenty-Apocalypse

This one takes place just after the bandstand scene at the end of Episode Three of the series.

Contra Spem Spero (AO3 Link)

Over.

That had to be one of the worst four letter words in this English language the humans made up. Far worse than any of the curse words and just about as bad as other inflammatory words they had like “hate” or “kill”. The word was different in other tongues. Oshimai was the equivalent in Japanese. The French would say something like c’est fini.

But all of it meant the same thing: the end. No more, done. Something was lost and would not come back no matter how much you needed it or wanted to hold onto it.

“There is no ‘our side’, Crowley.”

“It’s over.”

Crowley quickened his pace from a defiant saunter to a near run. He could have gone back to the Bentley. It was only a few yards away. But then, where would he go? Anywhere and nowhere were the same to him now. And besides, he had no way of knowing how many mushy Queen songs he’d have to endure along the way.

No, as much as he wanted to wrap himself into the meager comfort of the confines of his car, Crowley knew that wouldn’t be enough. ‘Would anything, really?’

By now, he was running along thankfully empty walkways. It was fast. He was alone. It still wasn’t enough.

Jet black wings spread out and lifted him upward before his feet had the chance to touch the ground again. He flew as swiftly as he could, the streets below him melding into a blur.

When another coherent thought was finally able to reach his brain, Crowley suddenly realized that he wasn’t in London anymore. He was in Yorkshire, Scarborough from the look of it, right up on the coast. He slowed down and descended to land on the beach.

The sun was almost gone. No humans were out, and the only sound was of the ocean rushing toward the shore. He was completely alone.

‘And probably will be for the rest of Eternity. Or the next day or so. Whatever comes first.’

Crowley arched his wings upward one last time before tucking them away. This wasn’t the first time that their relationship, Arrangement, whatever it was, had been threatened. Being an angel and a demon attempting to coexist was bound produce friction and there had been plenty of that. The tension between them had taken the forms of words misspoken or taken the wrong way, miracles and temptations that were at odds and had no easy compromises.

And toward the center of it all was Aziraphale’s stubborn, blind clinging to Heaven’s rhetoric.

Crowley clenched his hands, claws coming out just enough to leave bleeding crescents on his palms. Why couldn’t the angel see what was right in front of him? That it was up to them to stop the Apocalypse from happening? Why did he persist in believing that Heaven was going to miraculously swoop in and fix everything? He should know better by now.

‘But no, not Aziraphale. Not Mr.“I’m The Nice One And I’m Going To Champion Heaven’s Cause Even When It Destroys Everything It Touches.” Probably already knows where the Antichrist is and isn’t going to tell me, just like he said he wouldn’t.’

‘Bastard. You stupid, selfish, clueless bastard.’

Crowley’s chest heaved several times, his breaths becoming painful. It was so easy to give into his anger, his hurt, his frustration built up over thousands of years wasted pining over an angel that would always, always choose Heaven over him.

Except…Aziraphale hadn’t…not always….

Tears burned in Crowley’s eyes and this time, he let them fall. No, Aziraphale didn’t always do what he was told. He rebelled in hundreds of small, quiet ways. The most glaring one of all being the Arrangement which had encompassed far more than just making work smoother. It had stretched to include protecting each other and keeping an eye on each other’s wellbeing.

Something no mindlessly obedient angel would ever do for a demon.

Crowley felt his throat tighten, but the burning anger in his heart was starting to fade. As tempting as it was, he wasn’t going to put all of this on Aziraphale. A lot of his memories of Heaven were erased during his Fall, but he remembered how controlling their culture was and how angels were frequently micromanaged to an oppressive degree.

And if the angels weren’t “good” enough and yet still considered salvageable, Heaven had plenty of ways to forcibly imprint its edicts into their servants’ minds. Crowley was certain that many of them had been applied to Aziraphale at some point or another.

Plus, there was the simple fact that some angels were assholes. Bullies who were cloaked in Divine Will and who took pleasure in tormenting anyone who didn’t live up to their standards even if they would never admit it. Crowley was also certain that Aziraphale had suffered plenty of that sort of abuse too.

The angel was kind, clever and strong, but no one could be expected to endure what he had for six thousand years and not have it warp their thinking even a little. The fact that Aziraphale had tried to fight against how he had been manipulated and would genuinely care about others was both endearing and heartbreaking to Crowley.

Crowley sniffed hard. Aziraphale was partially to blame for this mess, but Crowley would rather tear his own heart out than try to hate him for it. Or even stay mad at him for very long.

Besides, there was more pressing stuff to think about right now. The Apocalypse was still coming and they needed to do something about the Antichrist. If Crowley’s suspicions were correct, and even if they weren’t, he would likely need Aziraphale’s help to accomplish this.

Once again, he was going to have to persuade Aziraphale to see past Heaven’s brainwashing. But this time, the stakes involved would not allow for any failure. The problem was, he wasn’t sure if Aziraphale could be convinced. Or if the angel cared about the same things he did anymore.

Aziraphale might have spoken in the heat of anger and fear, but Crowley couldn’t deny that there was a possibility that this was simply an outburst that would have come eventually. That Aziraphale had been thinking about severing things between them for a while and that his decision would not change even if by faint chance they did avert Armageddon.

For now though, time was running out. Unfortunately, Crowley couldn’t completely shake the feeling that it already had run out for him.

[alicedrawslesmis]

Book 6: Petit Picpus

Sketching Chapter 2.6.1 - Petite Rue Picpus No. 62.

Well who wants to read a pretty hot take that is way too brave and will definitely scar you for life if you haven't read it yet? The convent is a vagina

Ok no, again, nothing is ever a one to one metaphor in this book and yes this phrase been said by every pretentious literature teacher that you hated in school about every book ever but here's the thing, this time I actually think it's true (and I got really pissed off about it so I will rant and you cannot stop me)

so queue long and unnecessary rant about femininity in the 19th century I guess

First: obviously this convent is a feminine space, being a convent of benedictine nuns where no man can enter; that's the most obvious bit (if you consider femininity in the biological 19th century sense that is). Hugo already has a bit of an obsession with women cloistered so this is not a new thing. Second: the home/domestic side (the convent, for example) has already been contra-posed with the political/public side (the streets) in a dichotomy that's also a deliberate parallel to the feminine/masculine dichotomy. So what I'm saying is that the convent is not just feminine in that there's only women there, it's feminine because it is introverted, reflective and domestic/focused on inter-personal relationships (again! this is a 19th century view of femininity and one that Hugo seems to subscribe to in this novel, not one *I* subscribe to, I think it's reductive and stupid and arbitrary but I'm not the one being analysed here, benefit of not having written a novel myself).

So the convent is a feminine space, where men cannot penetrate (and I use the word penetrate because my brick used the word penetrate to talk about the reader looking into the convent). The convent is also a holy space. Vicky Hugs has already many many many times placed virginity as a divine trait in this book. So the convent is not only a feminine space but a virginal feminine space and therefore divine according to Les Miserables. Even Fantine, in her deathbed, having been a prostitute and having had a child, is still described as virginal. Which is weird but lets take "virgin" to mean "pure" and "untainted" in this context. Javert is a Virgin Detective, Valjean is a Virgin and a Saint, Fantine is Virginal, Cosette is Virginal, etc etc etc. The one person in this book who is described as definitely not a virgin in any way is Mme Thénardier and we know how this narrative feels about her. "The Thénardiess". She isn't even allowed to be called a woman in this book.

So back to the narrative, this is where it gets more far fetched but not unlikely, seeing as this is a) 19th century Paris b) written by Thicctor Huge-Hoe, known sexist, absolute freak, a penis for a brain: the journey to "penetrate" the convent if you are a man is to first know the password that allows the door to be open to you by the doorkeep, second climb up a narrow staircase and find youself navigating an increasingly darker narrow labyrinth guarded by a nun always protecting the sanctity of the convent. Third: you catch a glimpse of the inside of the convent for barely a second before the door is closed to you again. This is a fucking sexist ass visual metaphor that we've all read/seen before about intercourse and seduction (of women) in media, in books, etc etc and normally I give this book the benefit of the doubt, it could be I'm reading too much into this, but knowing Who wrote this, knowing when and where this was written, I do not give it the benefit of the doubt.

This is that old story of women guarding their virginity and man braving the deep unknown like women are a big mystery to be explored and ugh I hate it. Consent is not an obstacle course, Hugo.

Obviously seduction was more complicated when being a sexually active woman was a Big No-No (in upper class women) and yes there was/is a huge deal of social barriers and propriety when sex is concerned, however! I cannot help but feel like this is not about social expectations but about what Victor Hugo thinks are women's "natural instincts" of modesty. Just like that whole other digression about girls having dolls because of an innate need to be mothers. Yikes.

It's my opinion that this metaphor falls into the archetype of feminine as some Great Unknown Thing to be tamed by a brave Explorer which is the single most 19th century Europe thing ever. And I HATE it. Thanks.

...Anyway this was a long and unnecessary rant I'm very sorry

[rowanartist]

Fan fiction quotes 2019:

"with great foods, came great emotional baggage"[X]extra funny since I just saw Into the Spiderverse

"Just get together every couple of weeks, without Stark, and you guys can pass Steve around like a bong."[ch2]whaat? And chapter three is a dirty parody - worth a read for the humor of it

"he just hopes Tony has the sense God gave concussed baby sheep "[X]interesting phrase

"“Science,” Jane says, drawing his face to hers, “Does not require pants "[X]fun series of short fics

"Never something so hot; not like a flame is hot, but the strength of something bathed in summer sun. "[X]interesting view on attraction

"(He'd been sketching when he thought that through; now there's a page that has a little cartoon of himself, ducking, with the caption "the spoons are attacking!" although he'd ended up finishing his latte before he actually drew any flying spoons.) "[X]Steve upon learning about spoon theory

"Can you think of anything that symbolizes the eighties better than David Bowie’s crotch in tights? "[X]giggle out loud! "You drink once if someone whines, if Sarah says something isn’t fair, or if we get a shot of Bowie’s crotch. "[Same]comment

"“Like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin?” Natasha finished for him, understanding. Sometimes, after what they’d been through, it was hard just to be in your body. Easier to dissociate, to let whatever was going to happen happen while the part of you that was you floated far away. Natasha had been there before, and she knew James went there sometimes. "[X]ponder?

"They’re each wrapped up in their own blanket burrito, lying side by side in the dark, sharing one pillow. "[X]dual blanket burritos

"For most of his life he learned the safest option was to repress his emotional responses as much as possible, and over time he forgot how to access them when he actually needed to. "[X]relatable to a small degree

"Nothing too special but I’m pretty much Michael Bay’s wet dream "[X]to describe bakugo lol

"Most people," Midoriya continued gently, "don't need to be told they have a crush by the person that they have the crush on."[X]my boyfriend can relate to Midoriya here...

"about how if Midoriya could go this long talking without breathing in any new air, he'd probably be really good at kissing. "[same]lol

"God, fuck off. You look so freshly screwed that it hurts me. "[X]Bakugo ;p

"After all, shodō is one of Shouto’s hobbies. For Midoriya’s birthday last year, he made a beautiful poster of UA’s motto that is now displayed prominently above Midoriya’s bed. "[X]draw? If i can? "Please don’t use your All Might voice when we’re making plans to have sex. "[Same]lol

"He’d known for a while that his boyfriend internalizes, that he still struggles with a lot of insecurities and periodic depression from his years around his dad "[X]comment

"Shouto you’re worth more than anything. And you deserve happiness. I don’t care what micro-dick has said to you in the past or any shit he spews out of the mouth that’s somehow more obnoxious than Present Mic "[same]dam it Endeavor :/ "You’re a dork,” Izuku mutters in a break for breath. “Your dork,” Shouto says quietly "[Same]awww

"But if you ever forget your phone again I will use you as an advertisement balloon for a day, and that’s a promise."[X]lol

"First of all, I challenge you to find a dress that can fit that shoulders to waist ratio.” Shouto replied, matter-of-factly, pointing at Izuku’s entire body. “Secondly, you absolutely lack the manners to be a princess, you brute.” "[X]part of a series

"Another young woman that couldn’t be older than Shouto and Izuku looked up at the call. She had a round face and long, brown hair with little orange streaks every now and then collected in a braid. The red rimmed glasses she wore made her yellow eyes look bigger, behind the lenses. She lit up, when she saw them. "[X]need to try to draw

"You’d die of embarrassment— Either that, or Aizawa-sensei would kill you. And I kind of like you alive, thank you very much.” "[same]LOL

" is standing there in grey sweats and a loose Totoro hoodie he got him on one of their first dates "[X]draw

"It definitely didn’t help that Izuku stretched lazily, something akin to a cat just waking up from a nap, one of his legs stretching against the wall as the opposite arm reached towards Shouto with fingers spread wide-open. "[X]DRAW!

"What? They’re really short, all my boxers showed and it was weird. "[X]...

"Just because he isn’t as obvious about it, doesn’t mean Shouto isn’t beyond anxious too. "[X]comment

"He doesn’t treat Shouto like he is fragile, but he treats him like he is precious, and that is an important distinction"...."Something precious, however, doesn’t necessarily break easy, but it warrants the utmost care. It’s meant to be cherished. "[X]relationship advice

"One of the national dishes has no meat in it, but it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever tasted. I thought we were all going to die and T’Challa was going to succeed in eliminating us. Then I heard him yelling at the chef, saying none of us were used to Wakandan peppers.” "[X]https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688724/chapters/19918951#workskin

"All Tony was supposed to do was fix the alternator. Instead he built me a Jeep that tells me I have to initiate a proper launch sequence before I’m able to turn it on and drive.” "[Same]comment

"I’m sorry,” Midoriya retracts his hand, and Todoroki misses it instantly. “It’s not something I can fix, and that makes me sad. You don’t deserve to hear the things he tells you.” "[X]reread comment. Relatable to a degree personally

"But he has to admit the Docs greener side is awfully useful in a brawl; and his less menacing side has a wicked sense of humor, not to mention awfully good with a med kit. "[X]i like Bruce having a sense of humor

"That's what friends are for anyway, having your back when times are tough, and amusement for when times are peaceful. "[X]amusing

"Bucky didn't think he was being rude, but if Captain America said so, it must be true. "[Same]comment

"Steve’s always been a fan of cuddles, even if he doesn’t like to admit it, admit how much he needs that physical contact. "[X]I'm a fan of this concept

"Which in Steve-speak means that you’re feeling guilty as all hell over things you can’t control – again, mind you – and you can’t rest because you can’t shut your brain up.” "[Same]relate "There’s power in this act, Darcy thinks as she sucks and licks up and down his length. To be able to take someone apart with just her mouth and a few touches of her hands. Reduce them to tears or send them flying upwards into the heavens. And the knowledge that she wants to do this for him – for them – makes the feeling all the more potent. She doesn’t have to do this, but it’s her choice, and she wants to give this to them. "[Same]ponder more

"She may not come from it, but the closeness and the intimacy is far more important than any orgasm. "[X]remember

"He knows better, knows that Bakugou’s punches of greeting and movie nights at Yaoyorozu’s house with Mina, Hagakure, and Tsu, and that baking with Izuku are all love. That’s love, not the villain sat behind the desk. "[X]dark fic, author warns in notes. But this line is sweet

"Natasha Romanoff is a world-class spy, yes. But she’s also a potato chip thief who makes dumb jokes and uses emoticons (she had been very adamant that Steve learn the difference between emoticons and emojis), and Steve adores her for it. "[ch5]she's human

"Bucky flopped onto it rolling around like a dog on the soft surface, Natasha quietly responding by taking out her phone and videoing his nonsense. "[ch2]Mr. Kate style rug cuddle but solo

"“First of all, just because someone is good looking does not mean I should have sex with them. There are attractive serial killers Nat, do you want me to get murdered? Second of all, I don’t know him. Third of all, he’s not looking at me like I’m chicken wings, also Clint, seriously? Chicken wings?” "[same]lol, but I'm with you Bucky

"Even in just plain sweatpants, the American icon without a shirt was an image that would have anyone seeing stars and stripes, regardless of sexual orientation. "[X]:)

"Agent Bishop was hit with a biological weapon today that has a ninety-two per cent chance of ending in fatality within three days unless proper care is administered to disperse the chemical compound through natural methods. Meaning, in the case of humans, sexual release. As in, orgasming."[X]a legalese description of "sex pollen" ...

"Do the horizontal contra dance, yes," Darcy answered. "Well kind of, I mean there's only three of us and a contra dance is four to a group, but tango is just for two and I had to think of something fast. Come on, Stevie, this isn't the first time we've hooked up. "[X]lol

"He wanted something just for him again, even though he felt like a selfish asshole for even thinking it. So he would do whatever he could to chase after that feeling. Even if it was stupid. Even if it was silly. "[ch2]advice, remember "Tony must never read these, Steve thought. Bucky’s arm would never be safe. "[ch3]Steve Discovers FanFiction "Steve stayed focused on the screen, sticking out his tongue a little while he concentrated. It was unfairly adorable. "[ch4]Jarvis knows how to motivate Steve: a Bucky themed typing game "Good things would happen. Funny, clever jokes would be told. Sexy adventures were always available, no matter what was happening in the real world. "[X]relatable "There was even a page of ‘Bucky Approved Sex Words and Phrases’. The name alone never failed to make Steve smile "[ch7]lol "He wasn’t really writing this stuff for the money anyways; mostly he just wanted to see that other people liked and enjoyed what he was doing. "[Same]relatable: my redbubble rowan-artist

"Darcy’s eyes widened. “Oh god, I just imagined you naked, dusted in gold, on a satin-sheeted bed. My mind is a dangerous place.” “Hey, there’s always Halloween.” "[ch6]you being Steve

"Jane was rapidly nearing the angry-bear stage of sleep deprivation (there were seven levels on the Dr. Jane Foster Sleep Deprivation chart; angry bear was number five, between 'genius-level insane productivity' and 'sugar high five-year old'), "[X]also Dean Fury ... "Then you come to me, we'll kill a bottle of Jameson and make Thor carry our drunk asses home while we sing Les Mis horribly off-key," "[same]amusing

"This is why you should always read end-user agreements on friendships. "[X]not the fic but the start notes, lol. Also, Maria's entry is adorable, and Pepper potts!! "(“So what you’re telling me is you spent a week building a glorified roomba,” Rhodey says the first time he sees it, and Tony lets out an undignified huff and makes JUNK-E destroy and clean a grand piano.) "[Same]hahha

"And it’s better to be an asset, which at least sounds like something you value, than a glorified action figure. "[ch3]comment "Steve’s friendship is stronger than even Steve’s shield, and protects them both just as much "[Same ch9]awww

"Bucky actually is, but she knows well enough not to ask. Instead, she has started braiding flowers into Natasha's hair while the other girl of the group is busy making a flower crown for Thor. This is what it must be like to have real friends, Bucky thinks, lounging in his camping chair, trying to eat with one hand while Steve is holding his arm, drawing on the inside of his forearm with a black pen. "[ch2]flower crowns "I heard a lot of things I kind of projected on myself. It's probably stupid, but… it's always crazy to hear things that apply to oneself somehow." "It's the magic of music. Sam once told me about the Mr. Brightside effect–" "[ch4]yes "Bruce is on his own so much that he probably doesn't even notice that he has friends "[ch5]relatable, high school me

"The most beautiful thing however was the wall right next to the bed-- while all the other walls were the same off-white color, this one sported stripes of different colors down. Blue, red, green, purple, black, another shade of lighter blue. In the middle of these stripes, the Avenger signs were painted by a meticulous hand; Cap’s shield, Tony’s arc reactor, Mew Mew, and so on-- Darcy didn’t notice she was crying into Mara started wailing in solidarity "[ch1]draw?

"He knows it, like Steve and Bucky know that Tony needs praises and affection, not commands. "[ch8]...

"She thanked Sif (a habit she had started lately, thanking the Asgardian warrior instead of some non-present God, because really, if there was a god she wanted to follow, it would totally be Sif) "[X]nice Darcy "Even if she wasn’t an Avenger per say, she got to be on the team, both super and nonsuper alike. "[ch2]awww

"Elizabeth is going to make coffee happen, and in Darcy’s eyes that makes her a goddess. "[X]comment "By the end, Steve had been right in the thick of it, using a frypan as a shield and hurling pasta like nobody’s business. "[same]comment "Agent Hill’s bad ass levels are through the roof, but put her in front of a powerpoint and the result is coma-inducing. "[Ch3]lol "JARVIS, my man, I need some fat beats up in here. Help a sister out?” "[ch3]comment

"She knew now that it was almost certainly to do with her personal level of comfort and how hard both Steve and Barnes had worked to make her feel good. "[middle chapter]comment

"A video clip of the Asgardian scientist Tadeas and Neil Degrasse Tyson singing a scientific ballad of their own composition was one of the most viewed Youtube videos of all time "[X]lol "He grabbed [a muffin] and shoved it into his mouth, belatedly peeling the paper off. "[Same]haha! :D "Darcy put a box of Sour Patch Kids on top, “Those are for Heimdall.” "[X]comment "“No. Damnit, Darcy. You’re stubborn. Of course you’re stubborn! Jesus Christ, I can’t even imagine what it must like to be in the same room as the two of you.” "[X]best friend sass "But Clint is a human with a bow on a team of superheroes. "[X]Darcy's favorite avenger and why Ch4 music note "Apparently Thor is back on Earth. He showed up in New York right after we left and basically deafened all of Brooklyn with his displeased shouting about his missing Shield Sister. So now everyone knows I’m gone and my disappearance is trending on Twitter as #MissingAsgardianPrincess. How is this my life?! I can’t even with this shit.” "[X]mild spoiler? HAHAHA "Try having a conversation with one of them [asgardians]-- 4 to 1 odds it turns into some sort of ballad recitation. "[X]...

"The next day, Izuku Midoriya delivered his eleven page elaborate essay on how ordering sex toys inspired him to be more honest with himself and his boyfriend about what he wanted in life and in bed. "[X]lol

"“Fire for stop, ice for slow, and smash for go.” "[X]comment

[natasha-cole]

Worlds Collide Chapter 26

Summary: Reader and Billy are back together. That’s all that matters to Reader. She has weeded out the toxic people in her life, but not without paying a price. Due to contracts that had been drawn up and agreed upon years ago, Reader parting ways with her mother and publicist could cost her everything. 

Word Count: 3207

Warnings: angst, fluff, bad parenting

Notes: HELLO my lovelies! It’s been a while. I really struggled with this part, and perhaps it’s not totally realistic, but hey, I’m just a writer.

Masterlist

You and Billy returned home the following day. You were still in disbelief that he had actually showed up in Vancouver just to talk to you, but the fact that he did made you remember why you loved him so much.

He was the one person in the world who never gave up on you, even if sometimes you felt like he should.

Every word that you had been too afraid to say to him had finally been said, and the forgiveness that you didn’t think you deserved had been given to you. You felt as if nothing could come in between the two of you, even when things seemed impossible.

You never thought you could be in this place again; with him, happy, loved… You chalked it up to your newfound freedom and sudden sense of accomplishment since you had removed certain people in your life. All you knew was that you would do everything in your power to never lose him again.

The two of you slipped easily back into your old ways easily. You’d spend your days together now that you were on break and he wasn’t working too much. You’d take turns spending the night at each other’s places; ordering takeout and just being together. He never brought up the things that you had done again, and you were grateful that he was willing to put all of that in the past and just move forward with you.

It helped tremendously that you didn’t have Jen or your mother breathing down your neck, encouraging you to make different choices, and demanding things from you. Now, you were free. And you had honestly never felt happier.

Things should have been really good at this point. You had worked so hard to make a better life for yourself. But, you learned rather quickly during that first week back home and back with Billy that some toxic people just don’t let go.

***

All it took was a short email to remind you that you weren’t quite in the clear yet when it came to your mother and the people who surrounded you during your entire career. Honestly, you hadn’t thought about your contracts and what all of this could mean if you chose to break those contracts. In fact, you really didn’t know much about your own contracts at all.

You turned to Billy while the two of you spent time together at your place, when you realized you didn’t quite understand what the email from your mother was getting at. All he could do was give you a concerned look as he asked to see a copy of the contract.

You hastily retrieved it and handed it over to him, hoping that he at least understood what was going on.

He spent a long time reading it over, flipping back and forth between the pages, and occasionally letting out frustrated sighs as he pushed his glasses up so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose.

“So, what exactly does this mean?” You asked, as he finally set the documents down to indicate that he was finished reading them.

“Did you not read the contracts that you signed?”

“I was young. A teenager…”

“You didn’t read them and you didn’t have a lawyer look over them,” he said.

“I- I didn’t know I had to. I think my mom had someone look them over,” you argued. “I was told that everything was in my best interest.”

“By your mother?”

“She’s still my mother.”

“You let her draw this contract up, didn’t you?”

“What was I supposed to do? I wanted to just be free and she wanted to be rid of me. Regardless of our relationship, I never thought she’d screw me over.”

“Well, she did. This contract is airtight. It also completely benefits everyone but you. Please tell me you were a minor when you signed these. At least then you’d have some chance in fighting this.”

“I wasn’t. I had just turned eighteen.”

“How?” Billy began, shaking his head in confusion. “How did you get yourself into this situation in the first place? A contract between you and your manager and publicist is one thing… but how is she even involved?”

“Like I said, maybe I didn’t necessarily read anything.”

“She controls most of your finances?” He sighed, running a hand over his face.

You felt stupid right now. Back then, you had been so eager to leave home and be far away from her, and she seemed to want the same thing. When your acting career began to pick up, she was the one who contacted you about it. After a bit of berating from her, she offered to draw up contracts so that you wouldn’t get yourself into trouble. She claimed you were too childish and stupid to handle things like money and having control over those who would work for you.

She had told you that she would hire a team on your behalf. She was a smart woman who you assumed knew people and had your best interest at heart, if only to not make her look bad.

Over the years, you had realized that the people she had helping you through this were not out to help you benefit, but by the time you saw it, what could you do?

Still, you never imagined that she would purposely hurt you.

“What else does she have control over, Y/N?” Billy asked as he set the contract down.

You shrugged, blushing as he asked. You really didn’t want to tell him. You didn’t want him to know how stupid you were. “Tell me, so we can figure this out.”

“Well,” you began. “She is technically my manager... so, a lot."

“That woman…” he muttered, looking even more frustrated than before. “She has completely screwed you over. Seriously, I’m not even all the way through this contract, but I can tell you that she made absolutely sure that if you ever decided to fire any of these people working for you, it would not go well for you.”

“Okay,” you said quietly.

You stared at the ground, unsure of how to react to this. Not once had you ever read those papers. You had blindly allowed her to basically manage you without your knowledge and you really didn’t want to know more about what all of this meant for you.

“You need to read this,” he said firmly. “You need to understand it. I get that you were young and naive back then, but you have no excuse now.”

You sat across from him at the table, reaching out as he handed the stack of papers to you. He was right. You had been an idiot before and just assumed people would treat you with respect. It was time for you to know exactly what you had gotten yourself into and what the repercussions of firing everyone would do to you.

After a couple of hours of reading, and asking Billy a lot of questions on the things that you didn’t understand; which often resulted in him consulting with Rob who had a better understanding of the acting business and contracts in general; you sat there, feeling defeated and ready to cry.

“What does this mean?” You asked again.

“It means that if you choose to go through with letting everyone go and breaking this contract, you might be getting yourself into a bad situation.”

“So, my choices are; do what I’ve needed to do for years and in return be completely miserable; or, keep these people in my life, no matter how miserable they make me so I don’t lose everything?”

“It’s not even a decision, Y/N,” Billy replied. “You can't let them stay in your life like this. You can’t let them continue to have this power over you.”

“I break this contract, and they get everything. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I don’t know for sure, but that’s what it looks like,” he said honestly. “Look, I don’t know a lot about all of this. My advice would be to get real advice from a lawyer. You have a lawyer, right?”

“I do,” you replied.

“Do you have a lawyer that wasn’t hired by your mother?”

You frowned, realizing that everyone that your mother had surrounded you with were people that she handpicked. There was no way you’d be getting real help from anyone that technically worked for her.

“Maybe I need to find a different lawyer,” you stated.

***

You had been advised to meet with a lawyer that was recommended to you by Rob as soon as possible. He was pretty certain that there wasn’t much you could do, but if anyone would know, it would be a lawyer.

You found yourself in a stuffy meeting room, anxious and early for your appointment. You fidgeted in your seat, now wishing that you had asked Billy to come with you, but knowing that this was something you had to do on your own. Still, Billy had such a calming effect on you and he would have been really useful right now.

You waited for a few minutes until a man entered the room. You recognized him as the lawyer that Rob had sent you the contact information of.

He sat down across from you, his eyes meeting yours as he let out a drawn out sigh. Right away, you knew this was not going to be a good meeting.

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N,” he started. He reached out to shake your hand and you obliged, nodding at him and letting out a quick ‘hello’ in return.

“Well, I’ve familiarized myself with your case and your contract, and I think we should cut to the chase.”

“Please do,” you said quietly, eager to hear that perhaps it wasn’t all a lot cause.

“I’m obligated to let you know that your mother has offered to renegotiate the terms of the contract, as long as you agree to keep on all staff that worked for you.”

“Then no,” you said quickly. “That’s not an option.”

He eyed you and you were unsure if he thought of you as a complete idiot or maybe a pretty smart woman considering the circumstances and that mess of a contract.

“Alright. Then let’s discuss this.”

He opened a file folder and began to shuffle through paperwork. You suddenly became nervous as his expression remained rather stoic.

“You’re already in breach of contract. In doing so, you’re legally obligated to pay settlements to all fired employees binded to the contract.”

“That’s a lot of people,” you chuckled.

“It is,” he said sternly. “You also paid each of your employees a lot of money as it was.”

“Of course I did.”

“It’s also not funny.”

“Okay.”

“After talking in great length with your accountant,” he continued, “I’m concerned. Your savings is not what is usual for a celebrity of your status.”

“Well, I paid my employees really well apparently, and what can I say? I also have expensive taste.”

“Yes, and hardly enough money to cover the costs calculated to pay these settlements.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re going to find yourself in a lot more legal trouble than you thought.”

“How much?” You asked. “How much money do I have and what do I have to come up with?”

He passed you a slip of paper and you cautiously opened it to read it. You were more broke than you thought. It didn’t help that you had an unknown number of people possibly dipping into your saving, and your acquired expensive taste in belongings also didn’t help.

“Okay, how much do I need to cover these costs?”

“Well, we made a quick estimation; settlement costs, my fees… everything… you could lose your house, Y/N. Your car… anything of value could be taken if you can’t afford to pay these settlements.”

You sucked in a breath and leaned back in your chair as you took a moment to let it all sink in. Of course. Of course this was happening right now. Not only was it almost impossible to remove that woman for your life, she had ensured that it would be financially difficult to so if you chose to walk away and cut ties.

No matter what you did, it was as if she was one step ahead, making sure that you suffered.

“Can I fight this?” You asked finally, praying that there was some sliver of hope that you could possibly win and walk away from this unscathed.

“Honestly, no,” he replied. “That’s your signature on the contract. It’s a legal document and it’s very well written. No stone was left unturned here to make sure that the people who work for you get theirs in the end.”

“What are my options?”

“Well, you can take up the offer to renegotiate the terms, possibly avoid any financial burden from this; or you pay everyone what you promised them should a breach of contract happen.”

“That’s… that’s a lot of money,” you said, now trying to fight back tears. “A lot of money that I don’t have.”

“Well, you do have assets,” he continued. “I know it’s not ideal having to start all over, but selling your property would likely cover these costs.”

“So, I can just sell my house, my car, all my stuff; and I can pay these fees and be done with it all?”

“Well, by calculations, yes you could do that. You’d be left with nothing really in the end though. Are you sure this isn’t a situation that can’t be handled otherwise. Not many actors get the offer for a renegotiation.”

“Absolutely not,” you said sternly. “I can’t- I can’t let that woman control any part of my life anymore. I’ll do anything to get rid of her.”

“So…” he hesitated, watching you as you let the options replay in your mind once again.

“So, I’ll do it. I’ll just walk away. They can have whatever. I don’t care.”

“Look, this is only our first day meeting about this. I just want to make sure you understand the seriousness of the situation. We can discuss it more in depth, see if we can’t find other options…”

“I don’t want that. I just want to be done with this. With her.”

“So, it appears that you’ve made a decision.”

“Yes, I have. Just tell me what I need to do to end this.”

***

You walked away from that meeting feeling defeated. The weight of the reality of what was to come was a lot for you to carry. Everything that you had worked so hard for, would be gone. Everything that you had earned in spite of her would now be hers.

It was poetic in a way. Of course the victim here would eventually lose everything to her tormentor. Still, you had also worked so hard at becoming a stronger person; a person who could be on her own and who could make decisions for herself. In a way, you felt proud for still choosing to walk away. You figured the reality of it would come later when you were truly left with nothing.

You called Billy as you got into your car, asking him to meet you for lunch so that you could talk to him about what had happened.

He agreed and you took a deep breath as you hung up the phone, now focused on your next destination

***

Over lunch, you explained the meeting to Billy in as much detail as you could recall. It had been a lot to take in and it was still a lot to register.

“Wow,” he breathed out when you had finished your explanation. “I- I really thought you might have had some chance in fighting some of that.”

“It is what it is,” you chuckled.

“So, they’re really just going to drain your bank account?” He asked as if he couldn’t even believe it himself.

“Well, I’m paying a lot of money in settlements to break this contract. Then there’s the lawyer fees…”

“Well, you’ll be done with it all though,” he replied hopefully. “That’ll be a relief. And hey, you’re amazing. You’ll get amazing jobs and make even more money.”

“Yeah, I also was already kinda broke though. I didn’t realize… but I spent a lot of money and possibly overpaid people who worked for me.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m selling my house,” you said. “And my car and anything else of value.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Who knew that if I really wanted her out of my life, it would mean she would screw me over?”

“So, now what?” He asked.

“I’m not really sure,” you sighed. “I expect I’ll be okay, once this is all done and over with and I can manage my own career from here on out, or maybe hire a real manager.”

“So, you’re really just broke and homeless now?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you in disbelief.

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. “It’s actually quite humbling.”

“I guess I better pay for lunch then,” he smiled.

Perhaps it wasn’t really a joking manner, after all, you were still trying to process the seriousness of it all. But, you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Maybe it was the fact that you felt some relief over being done with these people, even if it meant losing everything; or maybe it was the way that he sat across from you, that warm smile peeking out from behind that mess of a beard and those gorgeous eyes looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Whatever it was, you felt okay. You honestly felt that, as long as you had him next to you, you’d be fine.

“And I guess you can sleep at my place tonight,” he added. “Not sure what you’ll do after that though.”

“I’ll manage. Anything I make now that I’m out of that contract is mine, I think. And, hey! I have actual friends now, I’m sure someone will give me a place to crash.”

“Stop it,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “I’m joking. I mean, my place isn’t as nice as yours was, but if you need a place to stay…”

“I couldn’t intrude…”

“Of course I’m offering, Y/N.”

“I really hate it when people pity me,” you whined.

“It’s not pity,” he said firmly. “It’s just love.”

You gave him an honest smile. Nothing felt better than to hear that word come from his lips as he directed it at you. Yeah, you would be fine.

“God, I really do love you,” you reminded him.

“You know, maybe it’s for the best that you’re down on your luck. I don’t know if I would have built up the courage to convince you to move in with me otherwise.”

“Move in with you?”

“Might as well,” he shrugged. “I kinda like having you around. And I also think that you kinda need me right now.”

“Well, regardless of my behavior in the past, you should know that you are all I ever needed all along.”

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[coolgreatwebsite]

Cool Games I Finished In 2018 (In No Real Order)

Man! Wow! 2018! 2018 was a wild year for me. I managed to deliver those elbow drops I talked about last year and ended up doing a lot of of things. I left my job and moved cross-country in the span of like 2 and a half weeks! I took a new job in the video game industry (play Ninjin and Override)! I took a trip to Vegas a week after that! I got in a relationship! I got out of a relationship! It’s been a ride. A ride that hasn’t left me a ton of time to play video games or write about video games, but I’m like 1000 times happier now so it’s probably a fair trade. No matter what though, I will always be here at the end of the year to make a bunch of terrible MSPaint banners and provide you with another one of these. Here’s a bunch of cool games I experienced for the first time in 2018.

Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne (PlayStation 2, 2004)

Nocturne is a game that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since I beat it. It’s so damn cool. It starts with you witnessing a demonic apocalypse where only you, your two friends, your teacher, a reporter, and the man with the world’s wildest widow’s peak survive. These people are, with a couple of notable exceptions, the only real characters in the entire game. You barely see them, and when you do your meetings are usually pretty brief. Sure, you talk to and recruit a horde of demons to your side as party members, and you interact with a handful of demonic antagonists and various demonic NPCs, but for the most part the game is just you. You, alone, wandering the weird hellscape remnants of Tokyo. It’s one of the most solitary-feeling video games I’ve ever played, and it nails this atmosphere flawlessly. The music, the visuals, the writing, every element gels with every other element so smoothly to create a prevailing, almost overbearing feeling of loneliness. The combat and gameplay mechanics are what I understand this series to mostly be like (this being the only mainline SMT I’ve played), and are fun and engaging in a way that’s not too dissimilar from the Persona series. The only knock I have against Nocturne is that the dungeon design super sucks. I’m fine with endless corridors, my love of the PS2 Persona games can attest to that, but almost every dungeon in Nocturne has an annoying gimmick to it, and they all essentially boil down to different takes on a teleporter maze. I was kind of almost dreading navigating dungeons by the time I got to the last fourth of the game, but my intense love for literally everything else saw me through. For those of you who like JRPGs and haven’t played Nocturne, I’m sure you’ve heard this plenty of times, and I was like you once. I didn’t listen. But now I’m on the other side of the tunnel, so I get to say it. You should really, really play Nocturne. It’s good.

Splatoon 2 Octo Expansion (Nintendo Switch, 2018)

Octo Expansion is what Splatoon 2′s single player mode should have been from the start. Don’t get me wrong, the packed in single player campaign is fine, but it’s basically a level pack for Splatoon 1′s. Octo Expansion, on the other hand, is 100% fresh. Structurally it’s much more diverse, with the campaign taking place over 80 mostly-bite-sized missions with varying objectives. There’s a couple of stinkers in there, but overall the quality of the missions is much higher than what was in the original single player campaign. They can actually be pretty tough sometimes too! It was fun to see some actual challenge in a Splatoon campaign. Everything wrapped around the core gameplay of Octo Expansion is kind of phenomenal. The setting and visual design is super weird, the music is way more mellow than anything else that’s come out of the series and creates a great sense of atmosphere, and the writing is actually genuinely pretty great. There’s a lot of funny dialogue and good character moments. They made me like Pearl! The weird gremlin that eats mayo! She’s my friend now! The last half an hour or so of Octo Expansion is also straight up my favorite sequence from a game I played this year too. Don’t sleep on this thing just because it’s DLC. It’s legitimately great.

Monster Hunter: World (PlayStation 4, 2018)

At the outset I was incredibly skeptical of Monster Hunter: World. This wasn’t entirely fair to the game, as a lot of this feeling was based on its initial E3 reveal trailer kinda sorta matching up to some mostly not true pre-E3 leaks, namely that it would be much more action heavy to cater to Western audiences and tie into the then unannounced Monster Hunter movie (which, as an aside, looks like a trainwreck that I desperately want to see). You can probably pretty easily find some tweets and posts from me around that time saying that the game looks like trash because of some misinterpreted new game mechanic. I am here to say that I am a big wrong dumbass and Monster Hunter: World is very good. You might be surprised to hear this, but it’s Monster Hunter! With a bunch of good and well-executed gameplay refinements! And graphics that aren’t repurposed from a PS2 game! It’s a ton of fun and I put a lot of time into it, but it’s not without its flaws. The number of monsters and weapons is comparatively way lower than in previous games, mostly due to that whole not repurposing PS2 models thing. It’s still kind of clunky in a lot of the places Monster Hunter has been historically clunky in, but also in some pretty big new ways, mainly around playing multiplayer. Also the story, while it’s as bland as it’s ever been, is exponentially more intrusive thanks to the addition of voiced cutscenes (which need to be triggered before the game lets you bring other players into story missions, causing a lot of that clunk I mentioned earlier). It’s all nothing game-ruining, of course. The game wouldn’t be on the list if it was! Monster Hunter: World exceeded my expectations, and I’m super looking forward to playing the recently announced G Rank expansion when it comes out next year.

Contra: Hard Corps (Sega Genesis, 1994)

I wish I could go back in time and kick my own stupid ass for not playing this sooner. I’d written off Contra: Hard Corps for the longest time based solely on some bullshit I read on the internet at an age where I just took other peoples’ opinions and made them my own. This and Castlevania Bloodlines were the bad ones, the ones some weird b-team crapped out for the Genesis while the SNES got the good stuff like Contra 3: Alien Wars. Well, it turns out... they were right about Bloodlines. But MAN were they wrong about Hard Corps. Hard Corps is the best Contra game. It fucking rules. I would have gone on with my life never giving the game a glance if not for this excellent Giant Bomb feature happening, and a couple of episodes in I knew I had to play it for myself. Contra: Hard Corps is fucking nuts. It’s balls to the wall 100% of the time. There’s so many unique enemies and wild bosses and they’re all never not exploding. The game has four characters with unique weapons and multiple different level paths that have totally different levels, bosses, and story beats. Oh, and the soundtrack fucking rips. Sometimes it’s a little too much, and there are definitely some sequences and boss attacks that are total gotchas that you can’t survive without prior knowledge of how they work. I’d also be remiss not to give a special shoutout to level 4′s awful, tedious, unskippable-on-any-route boss. But god damn if the rest of Hard Corps doesn’t outshine these flaws. It’s the high water mark for insane non-stop 16-bit action.

Deltarune (PC, 2018)

Does this count? It’s a demo for a full game that won’t be out for a real long time... I suppose it does, it’s self-contained enough. Deltarune, the free demo for the sort of but also sort of not sequel to Undertale, is unsurprisingly good as hell. Less surprising for sure, as Undertale is a known quantity these days, but I’m still way into it. The story is interesting and full of charming characters, and the battle system has been overhauled to include things like multiple party members with different abilities while still keeping all the things that made Undertale’s battles novel. The music is, of course, fantastic, and the visuals look much nicer while adhering to the same general style as the previous game. It’s fairly short, and some character development feels a little rushed because of it, but again, it’s a small chunk of the beginning of a much larger game. I can’t imagine any of this stuff wouldn’t be expanded upon. It’s hard to judge this thing story-wise due to the nature of it being a demo. I thoroughly enjoyed what is there, though, and look forward to playing the rest of the game in 50 years or whatever.

Super Smash Bros. Ultimate (Nintendo Switch, 2018)

This game is so much. Even though the first thing I learned about this game was “everyone is here”, I still wasn’t ready for how much it is. Super Smash Bros. Ultimate is maybe too much. Of course, as previously stated, everyone (meaning every single previous playable Smash Bros. character) is here. Most of the previous stages are also present. This was all known. Where the game really, truly goes overboard though is in the single-player content. There’s the usual classic mode for every character, this time specifically structured around a theme for each character, but the vast majority of it is actually comprised of the all-new spirits system. Spirits are non-playable video game characters that you can collect and equip to your fighters for special abilities, sort of like a less terrible version of Smash Bros. Brawl’s stickers. You collect these spirits through spirit battles, which are fights themed around the character the spirit represents via extremely clever usage of already existing fighters and mechanics. These battles range from the obvious (Big the Cat’s battle tasks you with fighting a giant purple Incineroar), to the obscure (fight the main characters from Zangeki no Reginleiv as represented by Link and female Robin while you’re giant-sized), to the creative (Porygon’s spirit puts you in a fight against wireframe Little Mac and Akira from Virtua Fighter, normally an assist trophy), to the downright in-jokey (the spirit of Ness’s Father, displayed as the telephone spirte from Earthbound, makes you fight an invisible Solid Snake). There are like 1200 spirits. The vast majority of them have an associated battle. And you don’t just experience these battles through a menu, at least half of them are implemented into the 30 hour long adventure mode, World of Light, which has you fighting spirits, navigating dungeons, and facing bosses. It’s insane. They focused on spirits in lieu of collectible trophies this time around and they absolutely made the correct choice. The trophies in the last two Super Smash Bros. games were fine, but easier access to existing 3D models of most represented characters made them inherently less exciting than Melee’s tailor-made collection of high quality (considering the time period) renders, many of which would never receive a 3D model again. The spirits system manages to be exciting in the same way Melee's trophies were, fostering a genuine sense of anticipation to see what they cooked up next, but in the context of gameplay. They completely knocked it out of the park. Smash 4 made it on one of these lists long ago, and I essentially just said “it’s more Smash Bros. and that’s good”. Smash Ultimate is also more Smash Bros., but it’s SO much more Smash Bros. It’s so much more extremely good Smash Bros. The only things I can ding it for are some totally subjective stage preferences (where the hell is Poké Floats) and some slightly less than optimal music sorting decisions. Super Smash Bros. Ultimate is, ultimately, the ultimate Super Smash Bros.

These games were also cool, I just had less to say about them:

Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon (Nintendo Switch, 2018): Remember Castlevania 3? Inti Creates sure did! This prequel to the still unreleased Koji Igarashi Kickstarter project Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night is an unabashed love letter to Castlevania 3, and it’s pretty good. Mom Hid My Game! (Nintendo Switch, 2017): A charming little game in the style of those old escape the room Flash games. It even looks like one (in the literal sense, not the pejorative). It’s not tough or replayable really, but it is $5 and consistently absurd and surprising. Yakuza 6: The Song of Life (PlayStation 4, 2018): Yakuza 6 is kind of a weird juxtaposition. It’s the final chapter of Kazuma Kiryu’s story, but also the first game to use the Yakuza team’s new Dragon Engine. The story end of things is a good, solid sendoff for a bunch of characters I’m going to miss very dearly, but the gameplay feels very formative and limited in a way that sort of reminds me of Yakuza 1. I had a good time with it overall, but I hope they manage to dial it in like they did with the previous decade of Yakuza games and make something truly excellent again. Looking at you, Judge Eyes. Etrian Odyssey V: Beyond the Myth (Nintendo 3DS, 2017): Etrian Odyssey V is a return to basics for the series, ditching things like overworlds and sub-dungeons and just pitting your party against one big labyrinth. Honestly, gotta say, I miss the stuff they left behind! The core of Etrian Odyssey is still super strong so I had fun regardless, but the overall simplicity of the game and the changes to how classes work had me missing EOIV more often than not. Soundtrack’s great though, as expected. Sonic Mania Plus (Nintendo Switch, 2018): To be completely honest, most of the stuff they added to Sonic Mania in Plus really isn’t that fantastic. Mighty’s spike and projectile immunity is fun, but Ray’s flying is more interesting than effective. Encore mode is largely disappointing, with most of it feeling identical to the base game outside of its all-new (and too hard for their own good) special stages. HOWEVER, Sonic Mania Plus was an exceptional excuse to play through Sonic Mania another six or so times. Congratulations to Sonic Mania for being game of the year for two years in a row. WarioWare Gold (Nintendo 3DS, 2018): A good compilation game, executed much better than in the team’s previous Rhythm Heaven Megamix, but lacking in reasons to come back after you’ve played all the games. There’s the usual toy room stuff WarioWare has had since Touched!, but it’s bogged down by reliance on a currency system and the fact that sooooo many things you unlock are just parts that feed into a larger, not that interesting thing. The part where you play WarioWare is great though, and the new visuals make it all feel fresh even though it’s mostly older games. Mario Tennis Aces (Nintendo Switch, 2018): I had a brief, passionate love affair with Mario Tennis Aces. The core gameplay is rad as hell and more like a fighting game than a tennis game, with multiple different special shots and a focus on meter management. I played like 40+ hours of it between the full game and the demo and never even touched the single player (which makes it technically not count for this list, but, shut up). I got 2nd place at its very first tournament at CEO 2018. Then I... stopped playing. It had some weird balance issues, sure, but I think it was more a victim of circumstance rather than anything else. I moved basically right after CEO and just never went back to it. It’s still incredible though. I hope this game’s systems are the standard for Mario Tennis games going forward.

We made it! Bottom of the list! It was a shorter trip this time, but I’m still proud of you for making it here all the same. Thank you for reading the words I typed about video games. I’m looking to get this web page back into gear in 2019, so you can probably expect part 2 of The Best Babies sometime in January. Hopefully I’ll actually play some video games too so I can bring back Breviews on the first of February. Until then!