#I've seen enough Law & Order...

[carriesthewind]

"Reviewers told the report’s authors that AI summaries often missed emphasis, nuance and context; included incorrect information or missed relevant information; and sometimes focused on auxiliary points or introduced irrelevant information. Three of the five reviewers said they guessed that they were reviewing AI content.

The reviewers’ overall feedback was that they felt AI summaries may be counterproductive and create further work because of the need to fact-check and refer to original submissions which communicated the message better and more concisely."

Fascinating (the full report is linked in the article). I've seen this kind of summarization being touted as a potential use of LLMs that's given a lot more credibility than more generative prompts. But a major theme of the assessors was that the LLM summaries missed nuance and context that made them effectively useless as summaries. (ex: “The summary does not highlight [FIRM]’s central point…”)

The report emphasizes that better prompting can produce better results, and that new models are likely to improve the capabilities, but I must admit serious skepticism. To put it bluntly, I've seen enough law students try to summarize court rulings to say with confidence that in order to reliably summarize something, you must understand it. A clever reader who is good at pattern recognition can often put together a good-enough summary without really understanding the case, just by skimming the case and grabbing and repeating the bits that look important. And this will work...a lot of the time. Until it really, really doesn't. And those cases where the skim-and-grab method won't work aren't obvious from the outside. And I just don't see a path forward right now for the LLMs to do anything other than skim-and-grab.

Moreover, something that isn't even mentioned in the test is the absence of possibility of follow up. If a human has summarized a document for me and I don't understand something, I can go to the human and say, "hey, what's up with this?" It may be faster and easier than reading the original doc myself, or they can point me to the place in the doc that lead them to a conclusion, or I can even expand my understanding by seeing an interpretation that isn't intuitive to me. I can't do that with an LLM. And again, I can't really see a path forward no matter how advanced the programing is, because the LLM can't actually think.

[richardsphere]

So there's a strange "defense" of Miraculous I've seen crop up on occasion. The idea that everything wrong about the Lovesquare powerdynamic is deliberate and will all be explored next season (lets put aside that this defense has been cropping up for 3 seasons now). The claim that Soon(TM), the writers are gonna make the characters face the concequences and explore the fallout of the entire jenga-tower of BS they've been "carefully" setting up all along... Which... isnt a defense I vibe with, cause it fundamentally boils down to "its not a Kids Rolemodel Show, its a deconstruction of a Kids Rolemodel Show". It's a defence that would place Marinette alongside Tyler Durden, Walter White and Rick Sanchez in the "you werent supposed to relate to them" pantheon. And while i think there are plenty of reasons that deconstruction is a usefull tool (even if i hate the dime-a-dozen "Childrens Fairytale but its depression" and "Superman, but psycho"' decon-stories out there). I'd argue 'Kids Rolemodel Show' is the one genre that should never be deconstructed, or at least not in the slow-burn,long-form way the people arguing this claim the show to be doing. And i hold that stance for one simple two-part reason: Poe's law, and the fact that the deconstructed genre is aimed at an audience with absolute zero media-literacy. (reminder: "5-6 year old kids" is the one audience where that is not an insult, simply a statement of fact.) A show aimed deconstructing a genre with an audience for whom it may actually be their first big piece of media is legitimately dangerous. Because there is no way a 5 year old can be expected to tell "deconstruction of a formulaic kids cartoon" from "Formulaic kids cartoon". The idea that "they've been making Marinette into a bad example deliberately and are going to reveal the entire show to have been a carefull ruse in season 6/7" is supposed to be a defense? Its frankly absurd. A 6 year kid who watched the show when it first aired and idolised Ladybug, could be old enough to drink by the time S6 reveals she was supposed to be a bad example. A little girl who based her relationships on the way Mari pursues romance would have a restraining order by the time the show indends to pull this twist. And some of y'all are claiming that "actually its a long-form deconstruction" is a defense? I legit don't get y'all.

[tbaluver]

Hi! I love all of your work!! It's literally perfect 🫶🏻

I hope it's not bothering you but if you're okay can you do about a reader that's still in university and kinda overwhelmed with her studies and presentation. I kind of feel down cause I have an upcoming presentation with my lecturer and I'm not really comfortable with him since he always yelled and shaming my class during our presentation. It's hard to not feel hurt with his words sometimes because he took it kinda personal like shaming our appearance (how we dress which is by university law is completely okay) and sometimes badmouthing us. Sometimes it's frustrating because if we don't understand something he outwardly calls us dumb and it's really upsetting since he didn't even help us. We rarely ask for help from our lecturer since my class is full with top students so to be turned down and called dumb is kind of upsetting.

I'm so sorry if it makes you uncomfortable that I end up yapping and rant here. But feel free to turn down my request! Hope you have a nice day~

When You're Stressed From School- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: comfort a/n: hihi anonnie! don't worry you did not make me uncomfy i love it when you guys yap in my inbox! but i'm really sorry to hear that and it sounds rlly unfair to be treated that way. just remember his behavior reflects on him and not on your abilities. i believe that you've worked hard and prepared enough and that's what truly matters! i know it's easier said then done but try not to let his negativity affect you i believe in you, you got this! ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ and that goes out to all my other readers out there that is struggling with school right now! i hope this was okay and that you enjoy! good luck to all your studies everyone (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would make sure you would have taken breaks to eat, drink water, and clean your mind a bit. Any breaks would include going out of the house and a walk in the park to get some fresh air from the inside. He'll make sure to stretch with you so it'll take some stress off your shoulders.

While you continue studying, he'll play some calm/lo-fi music as you study. He'll rest his head on your shoulder or lap and asks you to explain the topic to him so that way it'll help you learn if you say it out loud.

He'll celebrate small achievements while you study. Anytime you learn and memorize something new, he'll take you out for ice cream on your break or to go get a quick yummy snack break.

If you were stressed about an intimidating professor, he'll listen to what you have to say while rubbing soothing circles on your hand. "I see, I understand that your teacher can be harsh but don't let that ruin all your hard work you've shown me. I'm always here to support you and I'll be right outside when you finish school."

And he will be waiting outside of your university with a bag of goodies for you. It's a small gesture but it's his genuine admiration and support for you

Zayne:

He would try his best to help you study. If it was a subject he knows well then he'll try his best to teach you. If he didn't he'll look up on easier ways to do it and show you. He'll also make you some tea to help you relax or cut up some yummy fruits or hand you your favorite snacks as you work. He'll sit beside you if you need him to help while he does his own thing.

He's very familiar with presentations. He's done them a lot with medical conferences so he'll be your audience as you practice your presentation to him. He'll help you memorize anything on your slides and maintaining eye contact.

If the teacher were to give you a hard time in class then he'll listen to your entire rant. He doesn't say much until you finish but you know he would be listening the entire time. He'll give you reassurance and advice after your rant.

"I've seen you put in so much effort, and you're already doing amazing. Remember, no matter how tough your teacher might be, you've done everything you could to prepare. I believe in you, and I know you're going to do so well."

He'll be waiting outside of your university next to his car. He'll have a box of bakery sweets waiting for you after a challenging day.

Rafayel:

He knows that school can be really stressful. He hates seeing you so upset and stressed for school. So his mission is to cheer you up. He'll be your personal cheerleader from the sidelines. On the day of your exams or presentation, he'll make sure to motivate you when you wake up. "You're going to do great no matter what happens!", "Once you're finished with school let's go to your favorite restaurant by the beach?"

He'll keep reminding you on how smart and beautiful you are. He won't stop until you admit it and until you kiss him. He has complete faith in you whether it's an exam or a presentation or both.

For your presentations, he'll gather all your plushies and set them up as your audience, silently cheering you on while you practice your slides and lines with them- and with him.

He'll offer a walk in the beach for a bit to get your mind off the work and for you to get some fresh air. "Can you please take a break, for me?" Any doubts that slip out of your lips, he'll tell you otherwise.

"Hey doubt is just a sign that you care but remember you're more ready than you think! Trust in your preparation and your abilities and if you don't, I trust in you. Even if your teacher is being difficult, that doesn't change how incredible you are. I think you're going to do great."

Sylus:

He would pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around your waist while you study. He'll quiz you or he'll make a quiz to help you.

If you were really stressed, he'll take your hand in his and calm you down. He's your rock when your stressed out and a shoulder to lean on during stressful times. He'll pull you to his chest and reassure you, whispering comforting words to you.

He'll set up Luke and Kieran as your makeshift audience, silently cheering you on as you practice your presentation. As you finish delivering your slides, he'll be brimming with pride. With a soft smirk and a knowing look, he'll give you that 'I told you so' expression, because he always believed in you. Seeing you succeed already in practice just confirms what he already knows- that you're going to do great.

"Let me be what you need." He'd listen to all your troubles about how your professor was giving you and your class a hard time. He'll reassure you that you don't have to worry about your professor. After hearing your rant about your professor, he'll deal with them himself. Your professor might want to sleep with one eye open from now on but at least you wouldn't have to stress about that class anymore!

"Sweetie, what's there to worry about? Look you're already doing such a good job. You've put in so much effort and it's all coming together. Just trust in yourself like I do- you've got this my love."

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 120 (Searching For Answers in Sulani)

cw: blood, death, violence (sounds terrible, I know...this tropical world is beautiful but this is not a cozy one, it's a detective one!)

The Sulani sun was warm, even for an overcast day in late winter. As Conrad approached George Brindleton's villa, a chill ran down his spine. George liked to dictate the terms of his communication with Brindleton PD, but he'd been far too quiet. The stunning modular villa overlooking the water seemed too quiet, too.

He approached the front door and knocked. The entire front room was open toward the endless sea, but Conrad couldn't see, or hear, any signs of life from inside.

"Yoo hoo! Hello, stranger. Are you a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Brindleton?"

Conrad turned back down the steps to greet two women who approached with friendly smiles. "Not exactly. Do you know where I could find the owner of this villa?"

"That'd be me," said the brunette. "Oliana Ngata. I rent it to George every winter, but my wife, Leila, and me, we were supposed to talk about him extending into spring and he never showed up at the tiki bar."

"Have you gone inside?"

"George tells us not to, and he pays us enough that we do what he says. But my son said there was a weird smell coming from the place when he walked home from school yesterday, and we're starting to get concerned. June usually comes around to talk to us every few days, but we haven't seen her either."

The blonde woman at her side rolled her eyes. "I don't know what she sees in that old man. He's always walking around barking orders. I can't stand the guy."

"Shhh," said the brunette. "He pays us well enough not to talk crap about him, Leila."

"My name's Conrad Gordon." He flashed his badge. "I'm a lieutenant at Brindleton PD back on the mainland. We've been trying to get George's cooperation about a body that turned up back home. But he went radio silent a few days ago, so we're risking him trying to sue the department to check up on him."

Leila laughed. "He makes friends everywhere, does he?"

"Could you let me inside?"

Oliana nodded, tailing him through the front door once she'd unlocked the airy vacation home. "Do you think something could have happened to them? - Oh my Watcher!"

She peeled back in fear and surprise at the sight of George Brindleton face down in a pool of his own blood. By the looks of the blood stains, he'd been dead a few days already. Looking around, Conrad saw no sign of June, but the staircase to the upstairs bedroom beckoned.

"Lieutenant Gordon, be careful," called Oliana with an anxious lilt. As Conrad stepped into the master suite, his face fell. June laid on her back on the bed, with a pool of blood forming on the hardwood floors beneath her.

Both George and his wife had been brutally murdered, and Conrad's heart sank. He really didn't need another murder case on his plate - least of all the murder of the most powerful man in town thousands of miles away from the place that bore his name.

Bloody footprints, large enough to be a man, headed toward the bathroom before disappearing, with no sign of forced entry or exit through the immaculate floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

He pulled out his phone to call it in, waiting for the arrival of local law enforcement. But they didn't take kindly to Conrad's chief pulling rank, demanding they let Brindleton PD handle the murder investigation.

"You think you mainland cops can come out here and tell us how to run the show on our own islands, and we're just supposed to stand back and let you?"

"It's not about the work," Conrad assured him. "It's the victim. He's been a person of interest to Brindleton PD for a long time - a lot longer than even I've been on the force."

The officer scowled but let Conrad do his job. He looked for evidence, but relied on landlords Oliana and her wife, Leila, for descriptions of the young waiter they knew as Javier Vargas. "He's a good kid, but we haven't seen him in as many days as the Brindletons. If he's not dead in there with them somewhere, I don't know what to think," mused Oliana.

"Why would George Brindleton call him Rafael? Does the name Rafael Bonilla mean anything to either of you?"

The women shrugged. "He wouldn't be the first person who's come to the islands to start a new life," said Oliana. "We're far enough away from everything, plenty of people find that appealing. We pay everyone in cash who works at our villas. They like it that way, and they like that we don't ask a lot of questions. But he's a good employee and we'd given him a key to the place since George liked to start drinking with the sunrise. He was a piece of work, but Javier always did his job without complaining."

"Do you know where I could find 'Javier'?"

The women shrugged again, but their son approached toward the end of the school day. "I think he's hiding in Princess Cordelia's ancient shipwreck near the volcano caves."

Oliana gasped. "Tane, where did you hear such a thing?"

"I didn't hear it. I saw him! Why do you want to find him?"

"I just want to ask him some questions."

"About what?"

"About being a waiter," Oliana cut in quickly, and Conrad didn't bother to correct her.

He turned to the young boy. "Do you know where I could find this abandoned shipwreck?"

He nodded. "Walk on the sandbar to the volcano. You'll see it near the beach. It's so far from the water because a storm blew it all the way inland when it crashed hundreds of years ago!"

Conrad left his number and promised to be in touch while the bodies were shipped to the morgue. He'd have to worry about the paperwork to get the Brindletons back to the Bay, but foremost in his mind was finding Rafa, once and for all.

He followed young Tane's directions and made it to the volcano caves after sunset. The dense jungle was dotted with worn dirt paths, but painted wooden signs led the way through the canopy. He found the caves and spotted the crooked mast of an old ship, half buried under the sand.

He spotted what looked like a front door on the part of the hull that stuck out of the sand and knocked.

"What the hell do you want?"

A gruff voice cut through the chirp of crickets in the nearby jungle, and Conrad turned. He hadn't seen Rafa Bonilla since he was a kid. Now this young man towered over him in height, deep-voiced with strong muscles, but Conrad knew it was the same boy. He had the same eyes.

"Rafa, it's me. Conrad Gordon."

"Yeah, I'll bet." The man sneered. "I saw you with a badge at the villa."

The young man threw a heavy punch before lunging at him, knocking him to the ground with brute force. "Rafa, it's really me," he choked out, as the man straddled his shoulders and blocked his airway. He struggled to breathe, but Rafa wouldn't let up no matter how hard he fought him.

Conrad's face grew hot as his throat closed, and the world around him faded to black. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF? George and June are posed with Akiyumi's Too Much and SamsSims' Sleep posepacks respectively. Conrad and Rafa's scuffle is from @rebouks Fite Me posepack, and the last shot of Conrad, unconscious, is from @yibsimchronicles' Fainted posepack. I love them all, and they really helped me get different shots I had in my head into the pixels, so thank you to all for sharing!

And I need to thank Cepzid for their police station uniform pack cc so I could stage the shots with Ximena in the last episode, and the shot with the officer here, since none of those scenes were triggered by actual gameplay. The clothes look great in game!

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #29

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

"Come on, Y/N," Jungkook chuckles, nose scrunched at the distress on your face as soon as you step out of the car and meet his very amused expression. "They're just my parents, nothing to be stressed about."

Rolling your eyes, his words bring no comfort to you whatsoever and it's noticeable on your face. "Yeah, exactly. They haven't seen me for-- fuck, I can't even remember the last time I've seen them." you gasp.

What if they don't want you here? You're coming with their son to visit them, you're practically a stranger to them. No matter how much welcomed they made you feel when you first visited. But it was for three hours, not for the weekend. It doesn't matter how many times Jungkook assured you on your way to Busan, that his parents know you're coming and they're excited to see you again, you feel like you're about to meet your parents-in-law (which is ridiculous). This is your best friend's parents whom you met already. You just worry you'll be a burden to them, even though you know they're lovely people.

"Two years ago," Jungkook responds, "The first time you came with me to Busan and visited them."

You're so annoyed how careless he's taking this, which of course he does, these are his parents he can't wait to see and unfortunately don't get to see that often. You know he usually calls his mom almost every day and they even video chat together throughout the week. Still, you hate how you're the only person feeling uneasy.

"Fuck," you breathe out, "It's been that long?" you whine, ready to smack your face into the palms of your hands but before you can do that, Jungkook stops you and grabs your shoulders.

"For starters, stop swearing," he advises, causing you to gulp as you obediently nod. Shit, you hope you won't swear in front of them. Sometimes you can't control it, maybe that's why Jungkook is warning you in front of their house. "And stop, my parents like you. Jungwon too."

"Jungwon?"

Your eyes widen at the mention of Jungkook's older brother. You got the chance to meet him and hang out with him, with Jungkook of course, a couple of times when he was visiting Seoul or you went to Busan with Jungkook. It's safe to say his older brother has his own charms, just like it runs in the family, which explains the little crush you had on him when you were eighteen. You were at that age when not many guys looked attractive enough for you but Jungwon, that was a whole nother story. Surprisingly, Jungkook resembles his father a lot. He's a spitting image of him with a tiny mixture of features that he got from his mother. However, Jungwon resembles Mrs. Jeon.

"Yeah, he's coming too." Jungkook tells you, shrugging and your jaw drops ready to scold him that he missed this tiny fact and hadn't told you. Something tells you he purposely left that fact out, already sensing your uncertainty when it came closer to the weekend.

Before a swear word can leave your mouth (because you're just like that and that's exactly why Jungkook alerted you to not swear), the front door of Jeon's house is pushed open before a cheerful voice carries itself onto the street.

"Jungkookie!"

There is no mistake the voice belongs to Jungkook's mother, the same sweet and melodic voice you got to hear personally two years ago, or whenever Jungkook calls with her and you just happen to be there.

Jungkook turns to you, giving you a perfect view of his little scrunched nose from the nickname his mother calls him, growing embarrassed but you see the warmth spreading on his lips and in his eyes at the sight of his mother. He doesn't hesitate, calling out to her before they both meet in a loving hug.

"Were you waiting by the door?" Jungkook teases her, obviously knowing how excited she's been to finally see her son after a couple of months of not seeing him personally. Video and voice calls only do so little.

"No, I just walked past the window a few times until I saw your car parking in front of the house," she tells him, causing the two of them to laugh and to be fair, it makes you smile in amusement because there's obviously so much excitement evident on her face.

"Y/N, sweetheart! Don't just stand there, come here so I can give you a hug too!" she calls out to you, hands already waving you over as you smile and make your way to the both of them.

You barely get to greet her properly before you're being crushed in a hug, her arms tightly wrapped around your frame while she pats your back a couple of times. Or more like smacks which makes you choke, earning an amused chuckle from Jungkook beside you who simply just pats his mother's shoulder.

"Don't choke her, mom. I kinda need her." he says jokingly, causing you to snort and if his mom wasn't here, you would give him a proper smack.

Listening to her son, she lets you go but still lets her hands graze over your forearm as she stares at you with wide and happy eyes. She looks good, almost too good for a woman of her age. By that you don't mean that she's old, but she looks way younger than a woman who has two adult sons. There are a few wrinkles adoring her face, mainly beside her eyes and mouth mostly caused by her smiling rather than her being in her late forties. But she looks just the same since you last saw her, even better.

"It's so good to see you, Mrs. Jeon." you grin, giving her a slight bow which she just waves off as if there's no reason for you to do that.

She's always been more friendly, rather than formal and strict. Maybe that's why Jungkook is such a lovely human being, raised by two people who gave him and his brother nothing but love and support. Just her sweet greeting and personality is enough to ease your nerves, and your past doubts about coming here are wiped away.

"It's good to see you too, sweetheart! I wish you both would visit more often," she says, giving a teasing grin to her son.

She's aware that her son doesn't exactly live close enough to visit every day, and he has a job and his own life to take care of now. As much as he's busy and not able to visit how he would love to, he's trying to keep in touch with his parents and family as much as he can. Being friends with Jungkook made you realize and notice that he's a family guy and knowing his family you know the reason behind that is the constant love he's receiving from them. It's understandable and even though Jungkook can be quiet to himself and much reserved, he's a caring friend who loves his family and friends.

"Come inside! Your father will come home later, he's still working!" she says, ushering the two of you to get your stuff from the truck as she's already opening the front door.

Their house, the one where Jungkook grew up, is the same just like you remember when you last visited. Sure, there are a couple of changes with the decorations such as different plants or pictures hanging on the wall, but other than that, it still carries that sweet vanilla and cinnamon scent and looks just the same. When you look at Jungkook who puts down his and your travel bags, you notice the fond smile he has as he looks around. Maybe this is what he needed, to get out of Seoul and come to different thoughts. It's surely better than getting drunk with his friends, now that you think of it.

You're so overwhelmed with everything — even though there's not that much going on — except you're about to spend the weekend at Jungkook's childhood house, you're oblivious to another presence in the house until you make your way into the living room.

"Look who decided to show up!"

Your eyes widen, the look of shock quickly wiped off as soon as Jungwon stands up from the couch and greets you both with a wide grin. He's outstretching his arms, already walking towards Jungkook who seems to mimic his grin before they hug into another warm hug.

Jungwon looks slightly different than you remember him, although he remains to look just the same at the same time. It's hard to describe, but the few points you manage to make before his face is hidden in Jungkook's shoulder, he looks slightly bigger and bulky than you remember him. His hair is short, shorter than Jungkook's right now and now that they're standing beside each other, you notice that Jungkook is slightly taller than Jungwon.

"Look at his hair, oh my!" Mrs. Jeon says, walking to her two sons as she swipes her fingers through Jungkook's thick and dark hair like any mother would. "Don't you need a haircut, darling?"

Jungkook looks at her, looking offended as he gasps at his mother's proposal meanwhile Jungwon cackles before his attention is turned to you. He smiles widely, already enveloping you in a hug just like his mother did, although his one is much more gentler.

"How have you been?" he asks politely, grinning at you. You're reminded of your tiny and silly crush that you used to have on him, which you totally understand now that you're looking at him. He's still handsome, both of them are. They've got some great genes, that's for sure.

"Great, it's nice to change the scenery and I'm so grateful that I can be here." you tell him, hearing Mrs. Jeon tease Jungkook about his hair some more which causes him to whine like a little kid.

"Of course, we're glad to have you here." he smiles at you, before your conversation is quickly cut off by Jungkook turning to you with a bunny grin.

"Besides, Y/N says I look good with longer hair. Don't I?"

You almost grin at his hopeful eyes that practically beg you to agree with him, although you see the teasing glint in his eyes. "He does." you nod, Mrs. Jeon smirking from the corner of your eyes before she grabs Jungkook's arm and pulls up the sleeve of his shirt.

"And you got more tattoos?" she gasps, staring at her son's inked skin while Jungwon whistles in appreciation and eyes them too.

"Yeah, just a little bit. There are not that many." he answers, sounding like he's calming down his mother who seems to be shocked by the sudden ink that's covering her son's right arm. Surely, she has seen the few ones he got the first time but since then, he added a couple more to his collection.

"Oh, my sweet boy. You grew up so fast!" she whines, clutching to his right arm like a koala which makes you smile and gush at her cuteness meanwhile Jungkook laughs with his nose scrunched again.

"Here we go again." Jungwon jokes beside you, walking with you while Mrs. Jeon is too busy tugging Jungkook to sit down on the couch trying to catch up with him.

It's nice to see Jungkook being back home, his childhood home, catching up with his mother who looks nothing but proud of her son and his accomplishments as he shows her some pictures he's taken. Like every mother, she gushes at each picture he shows her while he comments on each picture and what occasion it had been taken.

You don't fail to notice that in between their childhood pictures hanging all around the living room, there are a few pictures Jungkook had taken, professional ones that again scream nothing but a proud mom. To some stranger, they would just think those are the pictures to go with the interior. To you, as someone who knows Jungkook and his type of work, you know it's his.

And even though you're here as a guest, not even once they make you excluded and you find yourself chatting with Mrs. Jeon and Jungwon just like Jungkook does. They're kind enough to be curious about you and your own life, making you feel like a part of the family and as if Jungkook could read your mind, when your eyes meet there's a soft and understanding smile spreading on both of your lips.

Jungkook catching up with his mother and brother is a very touching and nice sight to see, especially when Jungkook looks much more happy and okay than the last time you've seen him. Funnily enough, it was the morning after he got drunk and woke up, flashbacks coming back to your mind instantly.

"You okay?" you ask, voice worried at the sight of tired Jungkook whose face is completely puffy and slightly pale from the amount of alcohol he drank. 

Somehow, he managed not to throw up during the time you both were sleeping. Still, you kept the bucket beside his bed after you woke up just in case. 

Jungkook's eyes are scrunched, barely even registering you before he takes your appearance, seeing you all dressed up with the makeup bag in your hand. Fuck, he forgot you're moving back home today. He can't even think properly, his head is about to burst and his stomach hurts. Noticing the pills on the nightstand, he gulps them down with the water that you prepared for him before he's capable of giving you any attention. 

"Fuck, I'm dying." he groans, plopping back into his soft sheets as he hears your amused chuckle. You must be enjoying this right now, he thinks. You kind of are, it's a rare sight seeing him so hungover and well, you're glad he's not crying and is relatively fine. 

"Don't be dramatic," you roll your eyes, "I wasn't sure if you'd be eating after you wake up, but there isn't much in the fridge. I recommend ordering a chicken soup that could help with the stomachache and hangover overall. I'd do that for you, but I had to move back in and the repairman is already waiting for me." 

Shit, he can barely focus on your words. The only thing he caught was something about a chicken soup and you having to go. 

"Fuck, sorry. Let me dress up, I'll go with you." he raps out but barely has any strength to lift himself up as he stays laying in his bed. 

Snorting, you sit beside him as he cracks one eye open before he pries open the other one. "And why would you do that?" 

"I don't know? To help, I guess." 

There's no point in him coming with you. All you've to do is talk to the repairman, so he can explain what really went wrong and you'll probably have to sign some papers. You haven't brought that much clothes and stuff with you, and you've your own car parked in the parking lot. You're completely fine with going by yourself. 

"There's no need. You should rest," you tell him, "Do you remember yesterday? Or today is more accurate." you chuckle, seeing him sigh as he licks his dry lips. 

"I would rather not," he groans, "I can't remember everything but enough to be embarrassed." he admits, causing you to laugh but you shrug in response. 

"I don't think you've to be embarrassed. Everyone gets drunk from time to time and you weren't that bad, although I thought I would slap you. God, I wanted to so badly. You were so annoying, but funny at the same time." you try to easen up his embarrassment and assure him that it's not the end of the world. 

However, Jungkook thinks otherwise. 

"I'm sorry." he mumbles into his pillow, closing his eyes as you look at him with pity. 

"You don't have to apologize, Kook. I'm just glad you're fine. You are, right?" 

"I guess," he shrugs but that's not enough of an answer for you. "I think the alcohol just intensified my emotions and I just lost control over myself. I'm sorry you had to come pick me up, I know I told you I got it." 

"It's okay," you assure him, "I know you'd do the same if it was me." 

He stays quiet, silently agreeing with you but at the same time he looks like he's completely out of it and barely staying awake. 

"Okay, I gotta go. You should sleep it off and don't worry about me. It's not the first time and certainly not the last time that I'm saving your ass." you joke hearing him letting out a sarcastic laugh. 

"Y/N?" His muffled voice is heard as you're picking up your travel bag off the floor. You look at him, seeing him lifting himself on his elbows as he looks at you. 

His hair is completely disheveled, sticking to every possible direction and if it weren't for his poor puffy eyes and for the pity you feel towards him right now, you'd most likely cackle at the sight and even snap a picture for the future. 

"Thank you," he says, making sure you hear him as you give him a smile. "Are you still coming with me to Busan next weekend?"

"Yeah, text me the details. Gotta go, bye Kook." you tell him, hearing a faint bye from him before you're rushing from his apartment. 

You're already running late. 

You hadn't seen him for almost a week, since the two of you had hectic working schedules but you texted each other almost every day. When it was nearing the weekend, he texted you details saying he'll come pick you up in the morning and here you are right now.

"Jungkookie, I even bought you the banana milk you love." Mrs. Jeon's voice cuts off your thoughts from last weekend and Jungkook's wild night out, causing everyone to chuckle as Jungkook's cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Mom," he whines, "I don't drink it anymore."

"You do, he still loves it." you interfere, ignoring the glare Jungkook gives you as Mrs. Jeon giggles and looks at her son knowingly.

"I always knew why I liked you." Jungwon says, laughing as you just shrug with a content smirk on your face, especially when Jungkook glaring at you in betrayal.

"Anyways, go and settle in. I'm cooking a proper lunch, Jungwon, you're helping me in the kitchen." Mrs. Jeon says, causing the older man to groan but you know he's just teasing his mother who glares at him in a warning before they both chuckle at each other.

It's nice seeing Jungwon here too. Not because of the stupid crush you used to have, which you don't anymore but you can still appreciate that he's still handsome and ageing suits him. As far as you know, he owns a coffee shop and stayed loyal to Busan since he's living here, staying close to his parents. Oh, and he's actually married. You forgot about that. Of course, he is. Who wouldn't snatch this handsome piece of man?

"Y/N, sweetheart, Jungkook's bedroom is ready for you. There are already fresh sheets and I brought you a diffuser there in case you'll have trouble sleeping, which I hope you won't be having. But feel free to use it." Mrs. Jeon tells you as Jungkook goes to grab your and his travel bags, ready to put your stuff in a place so it's not lingering on the floor in their corridor.

Smiling at her sweetness, you thank her while Jungkook stares with confusion written on his frowned features. "Is ready for you? What about me?" he quotes her, asking his mother who stares at him as if it's not obvious.

"You? You're going to sleep on the couch, of course." His mother shrugs, causing Jungkook's jaw to drop as he stares in disbelief at her.

"On the couch?" he clarifies, an almost horrified expression on his face that makes you chuckle in amusement as Jungwon does the same and winks at you when your eyes meet.

"Yes, on the couch," she clarifies dumbfounded, "You're going to be a gentleman and leave your bedroom to our guest. I hope you don't want her to sleep on the couch." she frowns at that thought.

You're trying to hide a smile because she looks cute and dangerous at the same time while Jungkook shakes his head.

"Of course not," he justifies quickly and innocently, "But my bed is big enough, it fits both of us."

"Yah!" You're surprised by the sudden loud and scolding voice that comes from none other than Mrs. Jeon herself. "She's your friend! Have some decency, ah, this kid."

She pinches Jungkook's ear as he whines and tries to use his height to get away from her, which he does successfully as Mrs. Jeon shakes her head disapprovingly at him before she walks away to the kitchen without another word. Not before she calls out to Jungwon who seems to be smirking and enjoying the little scene that just unfolded, which causes Jungkook showing him his middle finger which Jungwon mimics automatically.

Brothers.

As you make your ways to the stairs, you feel Jungkook leaning towards you as he tells you deeply and quietly, right into your ears. "If she only knew I've fucked you."

You gasp, ready to scold him but he's one step ahead of you as he takes two stairs at a time, but not before he gives you a cheeky grin. Shaking your head in disbelief, you can't help but chuckle and blush at the same time. What is he doing to you? You seriously can't with him.

Following him up the stairs and to his bedroom, it hasn't changed a bit. There are still posters of different rock bands on the bluish wall, and you remember when you first saw them. This room has such a different personality than his current bedroom back in Seoul. It's understandable, he grew up into a man and instead of posters, there are beautiful pictures he had admired ever since he got into photography. His whole apartment is designed into a modern place that makes you admire his choice of furniture and colors. His childhood bedroom is smaller than the one he has right now, it only fits his bed and small desk in the corner of his room, plus a chest of drawers where he used to keep all his clothes. There's no way it fitted all there. The amount of clothes, black clothes he has is just not enough for two chest of drawers.

The room is clean, smells like mint and wood, completely clear from Jungkook's scent which is caused by him simply not living here anymore.

Jungkook puts down your travel bags onto the floor, looking around with curious eyes before he lets out a gentle sigh that escapes his mouth.

"Please, tell me you haven't fucked anyone in that bed." you speak, pointing towards a made up bed that's definitely smaller than your or Jungkook's bed.

What the hell did he mean his bed is big enough for the two of you? Knowing him, he just doesn't want to sleep on the couch and somehow thought the argument of saying his bed is big enough would be okay with his mother. Remembering her glare she sent him is enough to make you chuckle underneath your breath.

"No, I haven't," Jungkook answers, cockily chuckling as he looks at you. "But I got a mindblowing blowjob on it."

Scrunching your nose in disgust, Jungkook laughs at your expression clearly enjoying the way you feign a gag. There's no lie that Jungkook had been famous among girls (and maybe some boys too) even in his teenage years. Even back in the day when he used to have slightly chubby cheeks and a few pimples on his face, which you know because Jimin told you that and you've seen some photos of him from that period.

"Thanks for coming with me." he says suddenly, causing your brows to shoot up before you give him a smirk.

"Nice and smooth way from blowjob mention to thanking me for coming." you laugh, seeing him grinning as he rolls his eyes at your joke.

"I'm serious," he chuckles, "I really am happy you came with me."

Your heart warms at that, seeing the look he has in his eyes that seem genuine and soft. "Of course, I'm glad to be here. Your mom is great, I've missed her." you smile.

"Did you miss Jungwon too?" he wiggles his brows, wiping the soft look on your face in a second as you send him a glare.

It wouldn't be Jungkook if he wasn't teasing you for the stupid crush you had on his older brother. You've never told him about it, but Jungkook is attentive enough to notice the way you acted around his brother. You weren't that scolding and typical Y/N Jungkook experienced and knows. Instead, you were giggling over anything he said and he even caught you blushing a few times whenever Jungwon was just being nice to you.

"Shut up," you scold him through clenched teeth, "I don't have a crush on him." you point out, because that's obviously what he was hinting at and judging by the smirk, he's enjoying it way too much.

Jungkook walks up to you, your features relaxing as a curiosity replaces the glare you were so kindly giving him. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, like he used to at that time he was pounding you to his mattress (or anywhere it was available) and you feel your breath hitching at the softness of his hand.

"That's a good thing you don't," he says deeply, eyes dancing across your face as he licks his bottom lip. "Because he's married and has a kid." he deadpans, ending it with pinching your cheek which happens all quickly. Yeah, you forgot about that kid part too.

You're left stunned, standing there for a moment but you do make sure you rush towards him as he walks out of his bedroom laughing, you slap his arm which he barely reacts to, laughing at your weak strength.

What a brat.

It was around five in the evening, just the right time for the dinner, when Mr. Jeon came from work. He excused himself, saying he had to stay overtime since he's the teacher in a college and had to grade essays before he could come home. Like he said, they never bring work home and he stayed loyal to that.

Even though you've met Jungkook's father before, the resemblance between him and his son is always quite interesting and in a certain way shocking. You could easily tell Jungkook is his son just by looking at him. Just like you remember him, he's welcoming and sweet like his wife, making sure he greets you properly and makes you feel welcomed in their house.

He catches up with Jungkook over dinner as he doesn't forget to praise his wife's cooking, which is incredible and that's why you're stuffing your mouth full. Now you understand Jungkook's constant praise of his mother's cooking. She deserves the title 'best cook' like Jungkook called her.

You're picking up some kimchi and garlic with your chopsticks when Mr. Jeon reaches for the soju and sips on it. "Jungkook-ssi, I'm glad you brought Y/N here. But how's Kiko? Where is she?"

You almost drop the chopsticks as soon as you hear the question, the name of Jungkook's ex lingering in the air but none of them know how suffocating the air has become. Jungkook's parents don't know that Jungkook broke up with her, judging by Mr. Jeon's question and looking at Jungwon, he seems equally interested in why his 'girlfriend' isn't here. They're probably wondering why you're here when Jungkook has a girlfriend, but they're too kind to voice that way. Mr. Jeon's question and curiosity is nowhere near impolite or rude in any way.

Looking at Jungkook, you see him stop swallowing for a few seconds as a prominent frown makes an appearance on his face before he allows himself to swallow the bite. He doesn't look at you, avoiding everyone's curious eyes and your pitiful gaze that you're giving him as you're sitting right next to him.

"We're not together right now." he answers, bracing himself to look at his parents.

Mr. Jeon's eyebrows shoot up in surprise while his wife gasps and puts a hand over her mouth.

"Oh no, what happened dear?" she murmurs, mimicking your pitiful gaze as she looks sad over the news.

Seeing this, you realize that Kiko is not only loved by her friends and everyone around her, but Jungkook's parents love her too. You always knew how important it is for Jungkook that his parents like and accept his girlfriend. His family means a lot to him.

Jungkook's parents not only loved her, but they adored her and were extremely happy whenever the two of them visited. Which was way more often than now. Jungkook's almost embarrassed at that fact, Kiko was the one who pushed him to visit Busan since she couldn't stop talking about Jungkook's family.

"We broke up," Jungkook settles on saying, but you see him gulp while he fights that lump that is stuck in his throat. "But we're possibly getting back together." he adds, wanting to sound hopeful but ends up sounding even more defeated.

"Oh, my baby," Mrs. Jeon gasps, "I hope you can work it out. She's such a lovely young lady and I know how much you love her. You are perfect for each other." she says, almost pouting while her husband nods along her words.

Those words affect you more than you'd like to. Especially since they've this image of her and don't know the whole truth. You're sure they wouldn't be her fans if they knew the truth and how much she hurt their son. It's not your story to tell and you decide to stay quiet, simply and quietly eating the food while the rest of the family seems still shaken up by the news. It's up to Jungkook whether he decides to tell them what happened or not.

There are a couple of reasons why he wouldn't want to tell them the truth. First, there might be some kind of embarrassment of admitting that he was cheated on. Secondly, there is still a chance they'll work it out and maybe he knows their parents would change the way they see her. Even though you're sure they're not capable of hating anyone, and will support their relationship nevertheless if it means their son is happy. It's very similar to the way you feel, even though you feel a bittersweet taste in your mind at Mrs. Jeon's words.

"We'll see," Jungkook gives them a tight smile, reaching for the beer as he simply sips on it. "I hope everything will work out just fine." he adds, but you're not sure whether he did it to get them off his back or really means it.

Either way, Mrs. Jeon nods as she gives her son a hopeful look. "I'm sure it'll, Jungkookie."

The rest of the dinner is much less cheerful than it was, no doubt that topic Kiko has affected everyone and not even casual conversation between Mr. Jeon and Jungwon haven't helped. They do bring up his son and wife into the conversation, saying they couldn't visit because they stayed home. Something about his son having a fever and they didn't want to risk it just in case it's something serious.

The evening is spent nicely, sitting in the living room while chatting with everyone and even though Jungkook seems fine, you do notice the sudden quietness and the lack of happiness he had when he came back home. Reaching for his hand, when everyone is too busy commenting on the current news that is playing on the television, you squeeze it and give him a soft smile of encouragement when he looks at you.

He returns it, mouthing 'I'm fine' as if he could read your mind. But then again, maybe he can't read your mind but he already knows you well enough to guess what goes on your mind.

It's around ten at night when everyone decides it's time to get ready for bed, and by that you mean taking turns in the bathroom because there's only one. Jungwon goes back to home, making sure he says goodbye to everyone. You don't miss the reassuring hug he gives Jungkook, murmuring something into his ear which Jungkook just nods to while he tries to muster a smile. The kind people Jeon's are, you're the first one who gets to take a shower, no matter how many times you've assured them that it's fine and you can wait. They insisted, so you try not to take too much there as you quickly take a shower and put your pajamas on. Saying goodnight feels awfully similar to the way you used to do so to your parents back home, bringing a nostalgia to your heart as you take a note to visit your family soon.

And it's around midnight when your body is ready to take a sleep, the peaceful quietness in the house is like a lullaby. But that's until the door of Jungkook's old bedroom is quietly and slowly being pushed open. Widening your eyes, you recognize the figure almost immediately but you don't even have to – because who else would be sneaking into the bedroom at midnight?

"Jungkook?" you mumble tiredly, plopping yourself onto the elbow.

"Yup, it's me," he whispers, answering your question as he walks up to the bed casually, getting in. "Scoot over." He almost scolds you for not already doing that, as he finds you laying right in the middle.

You give him more space, frown adoring your face which he fails to see because of the darkness. The little bit of lightning comes from the moon through the blinds, but it's nothing. All you can see are shadows.

"What are you doing?" you ask, confusion laced in your voice as he hums comfortably as he's trying to make himself comfortable. He even tugs onto the blanket you're using, exposing the side of your leg as you tsk at him.

"What does it look like? I'm sleeping here." he answers nonchalantly, still trying to find the right position as the whole mattress wiggles and even the bed frame slightly creaks underneath both of your weights.

"Your mom is going to kill you if she finds out." you inform him but all he does is scoff.

"I'm not going to sleep on that uncomfortable couch when I've got my own bed here," he deadpans, causing you to frown again as you shrug. "Besides, I'll wake up earlier and go back before she can notice."

"You're taking my blanket." you scold him, trying to tug it back but he holds onto it tightly as you hear him scoff.

"This is my bedroom." he points out, causing you to let out a chuckle before you quickly tug the blanket back. Since he wasn't prepared for that, you've done it successfully but not until he pulls it back. Fuck his strength and muscles.

"Oh my god, what are you, ten?"

"No," he answers, "But I love comfort and even my own mother won't take that from me. Besides, she did it just because we're friends and she thinks it'd be inappropriate for us to sleep in the same bed."

"It is inappropriate." you point out. Not necessarily that it makes you feel uncomfortable, because it doesn't. But in general, you know where his mother is coming from and you're not blaming her for wanting her son to sleep elsewhere.

"Hmm, maybe," Jungkook hums, "But she doesn't know we slept in the same bed too many times and did way worse things in it."

Your eyes bulge out at his deep voice and words, causing you to hide your face underneath the blanket for a second before you catch a breath. "Shut up," you scold him, "Just shut up. Let's sleep."

You hear him trying to hold his laughter at your frustration and he's sure that if he turned on the nightstand lamp, your cheeks would be red. It's funny how easily frustrated you can get, especially about something that you've done shamelessly. More than once.

"I'm good with that." Jungkook hums, smacking his lips a few times as he plops himself on the side, facing you.

You laying on your back, you mentally groan at your best friend before you turn to him with your back, wanting to cover more of yourself with the blanket. But your amazing best friend is holding it for a dear life. God, he could've at least got his own blanket.

"I'm not fully covered," you inform him, filling the silence once again. But Jungkook just plainly ignores you and you're met with silence that makes you sigh in frustration. "Jungkook, you know I can't sleep with just a tiny piece of blanket."

You love to wrap your legs around the blanket, sometimes use it as your pillow too. Not the whole blanket though, just a small piece enough to plop underneath your head, so you can press your cheek against it.

"Then scoot closer," he says lightly, too innocently. Suspiciously innocently. "I don't bite." he adds and you can hear the amusement in his voice as he tries to say it deeply, teasing you.

You groan, wanting to throw a tantrum because he's being a teasing shit. Although, there's a small side of you wanting to laugh at that.

"But no funny business." you warn him, scooting closer just enough for the blanket to cover your body fully.

You can feel the warmth radiating from Jungkook's body, too comfortable warmth.

"I'm not even going to touch you," he mumbles, too tired to pay full attention to you. "Now shut up and sleep."

You roll your eyes, stubbornly tugging onto the blanket some more but Jungkook's strong arms are already holding it. You're ready to scold him but something about his soft and slow breathing stops you. There's no point in bickering in the middle of the night.

So you close your eyes, now not only the quietness but also Jungkook's soft puffs of breaths that leave his mouth lullabies you to sleep.

[oodlyenough]

more arcane s2 thoughts in no particular order. this is pretty negative. woops

Cait, Vi, Caitvi

despite being what initially got me watching to begin with caitvi just never ended up being my primary interest with this show, so going into s2 it wasn't like I had very well formulated expectations or hopes. I think if I had I would maybe feel disappointed? They had some nice moments, they got the kiss and the sex scene, they're clearly endgame, etc, and that's nice, but it also felt like their relationship was so ... never really the star of the show or focus of the story to the extent I expected it to be. Did they even get a big fight-together battle-couple moment in the last ep, I don't think so? I didn't find the resolution to their Act 1 breakup especially good, I think Caitlyn owed Vi an apology and Vi deserved to be angry for longer than ten seconds.

I generally feel across both seasons that Vi's pain and trauma is rarely given as much weight as other characters', I was pretty underwhelmed by Caitlyn's dictator arc after being extremely interested in it at the end of act 1...

I dunno. I hope their stans liked it and are satisfied getting to see them kiss and have sex and be together and I wouldn't downplay the significance of The Couple in Arcane being a lesbian couple. But I wasn't personally very compelled or moved by it.

Jinx

Like the above I'm not a Jinx academic by any means but I think if I were I would be frustrated by how cyclical her arc was in season 2. And no, having Silco show up to be like "it's a cycle" doesn't really justify the narrative interludes. Isha is a hard sell of a character for me because I don't ... generally want little kid characters around ... and I found Jinx (basically) looking straight into the camera to say "gee you are just like me, Powder, when I was a little kid, which reminds me of being Powder, is this how Silco felt, is this how Vi felt" to be hamfisted. But some of the scenes with the two of 'em and Sevika were cute ... only for Isha to die and Jinx to be depressed, again, and then come through the other side, again, and then "die", again. Like if we wanted to deal with depressed Jinx we started off s2 that way...

I've seen other posts by Jinx fans that articulate much better the ways in which she goes from the driving plot force in s1 and main autonomous actor to just kind of being wafted around by plot in season 2 so I won't repeat them. But I think they are right. I also question the way her mental illness was portrayed -- or rather wasn't... -- in season 2. Powder in the AU showing no sign of illness (despite baby Powder in the main timeline already having some of that going on, pre-Vander death)... I mean, sure, she's got a support system etc in that world, and one can argue we don't spend enough time with AU Powder to necessarily see it, but combined with the Isha stuff it just kind of felt like a weird message.

Sevika

I love Sevika, one of my faves from s1. I was so excited she seemed to get a bigger role in act 1 and then in the first ep of act 2. And then she never spoke again. What the hell man... like damn... really?????!? Not a WORD in act 3? I'm sure this was some of the stuff they trimmed to get that finale down to 50 minutes but god that sucks, so much, in ways a wordless shot of her in the council chamber can't really resolve. Which leads me to

Piltover-Zaun

I have to admit I don't think the class politics in s1 are as good as they were reported to be, so I didn't have high hopes, but MAN is Piltover going "hey we need cannon fodder <3 thanks" not... a reasonable resolution... especially after an indeterminate time of Piltover being EVEN MORE oppressive with Caitlyn enforcing martial law. It was sooooooooo ridiculous. Also, lol @ the show acting like hextech is solely responsible for the suffering of the undercity. If only Vi, Jayce and Viktor weren't around we'd have a equitable utopia. Sure Jan.

Sky

One of the most offensively written female characters I've seen in recent media. A spectacular, zero-effort failure from the writers. What a horrible decision to write this poor girl, a Black woman no less, and give her absolutely no characterization outside of an unrequited crush on a gay white man. In season 1 I could forgive most of it because a show like Arcane needs redshirts and it's just unfortunate they made this particular redshirt a young Black woman. There are so many other complex and developed women in the show, I thought, they can afford to have some minor ones who aren't.

But oh my god season 2. The ghost hallucination which they never even clarify as being "really" Sky or just being the Hexcore or just being his own imagination of guilt because neither the show nor Viktor give enough of a fuck to explain fhglakhdglh. Even posthumously she barely has any dialogue except to reference off-screen conversations with Viktor we never see them have and then die again. "No you won't" ?????? It is ridiculous that they wrote this.

[08melancholie]

A tumblr exclusive!!

short Micah imagine under cut, something I've been thinking about for quite some time now...

words: roughly 1k

You've groaned in sync about seventy times now, taking a small smoke break from chopping the wood Dutch ordered you both to do—among the other leftover four of God-knows how many chores in camp the two of you are punished with doing, all because you robbed and killed a few people and... may have accidentally almost brought law right to the camp.

You take a seat on the small hitching post, sighing in relief for this small break as Micah hands you a cigarette from his pack. "Thanks." You place it between your lips and take your matches out while Micah loosens his neckerchief and undoes the first few buttons of his red undershirt, letting it hang open just enough to let some cool air hit him.

You light your cigarette and wait for Micah to place a second one in his mouth before putting the fire to the tip of his own, Micah's cheeks hollowing to suck in a cloud of smoke which he holds in a moment, before exhaling out into the sky. "Still can't believe it.." Micah grumbles under his breath and you sigh with a small nod in agreement.

"Tell me about it," You continue, pausing to take a small puff of your cigarette before continuing on. "and we still have to feed the chickens after this. Knowing Dutch—he'll have some stupid goddamn leftover task for us after all this, too."

Micah gives a small, agreeing chuckle, taking a drag of his own himself. "That's on us, now, ain't it? Us and our big eyes, smaller brains, girl." You laugh at his statement, which is true; you saw a coach riding down the street, alone—and it had none other than 'Cornwall Kerosene' written on the side, Mr. Leviticus' dear company meaning a huge payday, maybe. You robbed that coach as soon as you'd have seen it, unaware of a backup a few feet back that just followed the wheel tracks of the stolen stagecoach all up to camp. Thank God that you parked it outside camp, otherwise they'd have ridden in and seen many.. unfortunate faces that they would have recognised instantly.

The two of you got a very long lecture on safety around camp, on your recklessness, your carelessness for the gang's safety... you could go on. However, this talking-to ended with a punishment; overtaking all chores in camp for a week to 'learn to appreciate it'.

Bull. Shit.

Your jaws went slack at the news, and you've been giving Dutch the silent treatment all morning. Were you at fault for it? Yes. Was this punishment a total overkill? Yes!

It was insanity! You had no time to go find leads or do jobs with others—or alone—and were stuck in camp all day; washing dishes, sewing, doing laundry, tending to the horses, and much more. This felt damn cruel by now.

You slip off the post and sink down to lean against it, sighing as you seat yourself on the ground and puff on your cigarette. Micah follows suit, taking a seat next to you and leaning back with a small groan, the two of you enjoying your cigarettes silently—per usual.

As time passes, Micah takes his final blow of the smoke and tosses the cigarette, when he feels your weight next to him shift—on him. Your head rests partially against the post and his shoulder, hands which are in your lap stilling completely, your eyes gently shut. He looks over and contemplates shoving you off, waking you to get back to work—or leaving you to rest a bit.

He was aware of how much this exhausted you, seeing how your energy mostly focused on shootouts and robberies, not doing chores. These things had you dead by the end of the day, and you so-and-so had trouble sleeping, some nights going fully without it.

So in the end, he goes for the last option of the three. He leans you in more comfortably against himself and, seeing how your eyes shut and face scrunches slightly from the sun, which hits you directly in the eyes, he slips his hat off and covers your face with it. He thought about leaving you alone there, but had a feeling you'd slip off the post without a support, so he stayed.

Surprisingly enough, he leaned into you as well, moving his head to your hair and laying his head against yours; you've always had a nice, floral and nature-like scent, which he could really smell when he brushed his nose against your hair.

And who'd have deemed it possible; Micah feel asleep.

It wasn't until a man shook you both out of your deep slumber that the two of you woke up and looked at the source of the disturbance.

"I don't think sleeping will get any of these chores done quicker," Dutch looks between both of your tired states with a small 'hm?'. Well, that ends your break.

He leaves and the two of you get up, brushing your trousers of dirt before walking back to the wood-chopping station.

You place a log down; Micah swings the axe; the two of you share a small chuckle at the situation.

You hadn't noticed, or chose not to notice, the hat still present on your head—but Micah didn't mind it much.

[mecania]

i don't like a lot of discussions i've seen regarding whether radahn said yes or not to the vow for a couple reasons. 1) it's never tied into the greater theme of bodily autonomy/the loss of it in elden ring and is instead only ever brought up to make miquella seem worse and 2) i think it's not supposed to be the MAJOR focus regarding radahn becoming miquella's consort (yes you can still discuss it and i will).

I really do believe the reason why there's no solid proof in the story (aside from freyja, who is an important member of radahn's army, blatantly stating radahn would've wanted this. not saying to take everything at face value but her character does seem reliable enough when talking about radahn) is because that's not the point regarding miquella and radahn's vow. there is emphasis on mohg's body being used against his wishes but not radahn. if the game wanted to let you know it was not what radahn wanted they would've said it clearly because ansbach does so for mohg. radahn and miquella's unity (or rather failure to unite) is supposed to be representative of miquella's failures due to his misunderstanding of the world and the golden order. at the end of the day radahn and miquella do share similar enough motivations

the reason why radahn most likely sought to become miquella's consort is because miquella does not intend to usurp the golden order. miquella infact is representative of regression. his unalloyed needle returns things to its former state, his nascent state prior kept him in an ever looping cycle of nearing the crest of ascension and then going back to the beginning... he is literally the son of radagon, whose major contribution to golden order fundamentalism is the concept of return and regression being a way to achieve unity and completion. miquella is trying to restore the golden order to what he believes it once was, hence why he follows his mother's path. he seeks the land of shadow and abandons his flesh there because that is the root of marika's journey, by allowing himself to be rebirthed anew in this banished place of marika's psyche he brings the shadow to light in an attempt to integrate it into his new self. he completes this ascension at the same site marika ascended: the gates of divinity. the only example we have of a demigod who ascends successfully (i personally don't think marika is supposed to be viewed as a successful ascension) after shedding their flesh is ranni, who purposefully does not pick the same path as marika and rather seeks a defiance of the golden order's laws. regression and its failures is the whole point of the dlc. it is why we fell characters like messmer who are not carving a solution to a problem but rather are allowing a reignition of it, continuing the cycle of karmic accumulation and retribution after reincarnation.

importantly the basis of radahn's loyalty to the golden order is that he idolises what it was before, not what it is now. his appraisal for godfrey and also his friendly relation with messmer is meant to show you that he is a follower of the ideal that the golden order has fallen victim to some sort of degredation of its 'true values' over time. godfrey ushered in the new age through battle, and his consortship to marika marked the start of the golden order's reign. as for messmer, messmer is upholding the crucial foundation for the golden order's existence; marika's spite for the hornsent, but as i mentioned prior... his crusades against the hornsent only serve to repeat the cycle of violence, and by extension this makes radahn related to the ideas of stagnation and repetition. godfrey and messmer can be considered the building blocks of the current era, but both were banished and had their image ruined in the favour of some sort of progression/shroud over the origins of the golden order. like miquella, radahn is the son of radagon, and he boasts his red hair in honour of his father; yet again, the most important establisher of regression in golden order fundamentalism. in truth the impacts of the golden order we see now have always been the true values it has upheld, but like miquella, radahn doesn't see that. all of this aligns radahn well enough with miquella, both characters have always served to 'fix' the golden order rather than destroy it and establish their own orders.

it is also why miquella and radahn are an incestuous involvance. why they make a point of having miquella refer to radahn as his lord brother. they are both regressing so fucking hard they fall back on the 'true' heirs to the golden lineage; themselves, which is yet again another idea of purity and perfection as put out by the conservative ideation of the golden order. (the circle, the symbol of unity, which is also an everlasting loop closing in on itself. hence why miquella's choice is radahn. whereas ranni picks you, a tarnished who was exiled from the lands between and has no prior relation to her family. yet another way she breaks the concept of regression and recirculation)

it can matter on a larger scale when we are discerning the meta narrative and what this means for us, the viewers, and what we can retrieve from this. but in this case, both radahn AND miquella demonstrate how systems like the golden order strip one of their self autonomy in the name of a greater, holier force that must be worshipped (the concept of a percect leader and empire). miquella rescinds what makes him himself (his love) because of his attempt to participate in this system, even if he means to 'reform' it (which is clearly impossible if you know literally any amount of political theory at all). radahn lacks his own identity and defines himself via others. because he strives to be the perfect servant and defender of the system. hence why this also applies to malenia, she gives herself up fully to miquella in hopes of ushering in his era. but i literally have not seen any discussion about this when it comes to saying radahn might've said no... it's not discussed in an interesting way and instead seems like an excuse to place miquella as a sort of black and white villain.

[starsinmylatte]

Malum in se

Pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! There's only fluff here :)

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: A lovely anon originally requested this of @pseudowho, but she's asked me to fill it (for those of you not following the saga of Lyria's snow week™️.... I've been completely snowed in and WIPs have kept me sane).

Join my taglist here! (18+ only, this blog is mostly pure filth)

Higuruma Hiromi knew he was truly in love when you successfully convinced him to watch horrifically cheesy reruns of Law and Order while he was the one stuck at home sick. He groaned dramatically at every exaggeration or incorrect legal quote, but he enjoyed how you snuggled into his side too much to actually complain about the situation. After all, you were kind enough to take care of him, and his mild illness had not deterred your affection in the slightest. 

He had almost fallen asleep on the couch when you cocked your head at the antics on the television, murmuring under your breath, “Wouldn’t that qualify as Malum in se, though?” 

Hiromi blinked once, twice, and then a third time before speaking, “I’m sorry, what?” 

You turned to face your boyfriend, tone slightly teasing, “Yeah, Malum in se, right? Things like assault, murder… or wearing white after Labor Day.” 

Hiromi arched an eyebrow at you and treated you to the lopsided grin you adored so much. “You’re going to have to tell me how you know what that is.” 

He snaked his arms around you, pulling you even closer against his warm chest. Before you could answer, he took the chance to nuzzle his nose against the column of your neck, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Well, pretty girl?” He teased gently, and you dropped your head back against his shoulder, humming contentedly.

“Do you remember when I mentioned I used to do community theatre a few years ago?” You questioned, and you could feel Higuruma's grin grow wider.

“Indeed, I do.”

“Well…. There was one time when I played a character who happened to be a law student.” You pursed your lips, trying to keep laughter from bubbling up. 

Hiromi broke into a barking laugh that became a short coughing fit. “You played a law student? What kind of musical involves lawyers?” he wheezed. 

“It’s called Legally Blonde, and it’s not just a musical… It’s a masterpiece.” You insisted. “I loved the movie when I was a young girl, and getting to play Elle- the main character- was an absolute dream come true.” 

Your eyes lit up as an idea sparked into your brain with the strength of a thunderbolt, “Omigod, you’ve never seen the movie, have you? We absolutely have to watch it.” 

Hiromi chuckled weakly, running his hand through your hair, “I’ve got a better idea… There have to be clips of your performance somewhere, right?” 

“Oh….” you paused for a moment, “It was a few years ago, and I’m sure it wasn’t my best work, but-” 

“There’s nothing I’d rather see than you enjoying yourself and doing what you love,” Hiromi interrupted gently, stroking your hair again.

His lopsided grin turned wolfish,  “Besides… I am sick; I think this is exactly what I need to heal.” 

“If you insist.” You smacked him gently with a pillow to punctuate your words as you left the couch to rummage through the DVDs on the shelf. You even took the time to make another mug of tea for your boyfriend, but eventually, you were back and snuggled up against Hiromi, who gratefully accepted the mug you offered him. 

His nose wrinkled unintentionally as he took a sip, “Thank you… but what is in this stuff?” 

“It’s helping your throat, isn’t it? You poked his stomach playfully, and he groaned in response. 

“Yes, but at what cost?” Hiromi huffed, but the slight twinkle in his eyes told you he wasn’t being serious. 

“It’s throat coat tea, yet another remnant from my musical days,” you giggled. “I never liked the taste either, but it certainly gets the job done.” 

With another flourish of the remote, you pulled up the recording of the show, and you swear you could feel Hiromi smiling behind you as he nursed the warm mug. As soon as the video started, he broke out into another laughter-induced coughing fit. 

“Dear god, I’ve never seen so much pink in my entire life.” 

“Oh, just you wait.” You threatened teasingly, “You haven’t even seen my character yet.” 

Hiromi grasped his mug in one hand and used his other arm to pull you back against his chest, wrapping a blanket snugly around your body. You leaned fully against him, partially because you enjoyed the intimacy and partly because you wanted to see his reactions out of the corner of your eye. 

His reactions did not disappoint, even though the video was grainy and clearly meant to be viewed through the rose-colored lenses of someone who was in the show. Hiromi grinned widely when you appeared on stage, murmuring almost too quietly for you to hear, “Cute…” 

You blushed happily, and the show continued. He had many comments on how the Delta Nus seemed to share a hive mind and how much of a prick Warner was. He also very nearly choked on his tea when your character’s father proudly declared, “Law school is for boring, ugly, serious people!” 

Hiromi glanced down at you after that line with a slight pout, and you took the opportunity to cup his cheek and pull him in for a soft kiss, tasting the tea and honey on his lips. “Mmm, don’t worry… You’re not boring, and you’re certainly not ugly. You can be rather serious… but I like that about you.” 

Hiromi kissed the top of your head with a low, contented hum, absolutely convinced his heart was full enough to burst. He fell more in love with you with each passing day, and these past few days had only further sealed his fate. Even now, he was watching you sing and dance your heart out, and you were shining in the roll. The sassy, playfully cute, but deceptively intelligent lawyer was such a perfect role for you, and he quickly became frustrated with Warner. Seeing you so upset over such a stupid man hurt his heart, even though he knew you were acting…. and then Emmett was introduced. 

“Now, I like that guy. He’s got the right idea, actually treating Elle decently.” Hiromi mused, playfully twirling a strand of your hair. 

“Oh, really?” You grinned slyly. “He reminds me of you, you know.”  

“It seems we share the same excellent taste in women.” 

–

The movie was over a short while later, but Hiromi insisted on letting it play through curtain call so he could properly applaud your work. You rolled over to lay against his chest, peering inquisitively into his dark, beautiful eyes, “So you really liked it?” 

“I loved it,” He assured you, pulling you in for another tea-flavored kiss. Suddenly, you could feel him grinning against your lips, “And I may buy you another one of those pink tweed skirt sets… it was cute on you.” 

His deep chuckle only grew louder as you smacked him with another pillow.

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @khaleesihavilliard @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @pseudowho

[adventuringblind]

Chin Up, Princess (2k words)

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Jos oversteps and causes a whole lot of hurt for Max and his mate, he takes things into his own hands and ends up resorting to extreme measures in order to save his lover. (Background Landoscar, Charlos, and Sewis)

Warnings: Mind control, talks of eating people and mentions of gore but nothing explicit, ghoul on ghoul violence, burning of a character, major character death (not a good guy tho), ED but like... also not an ED, soulbonds

Notes: Ironically the most tame ghoulverse fic I've done thus far. Thank you to🏍️for the amazing idea!!

Side Note: Feed my praise kink please?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It’s raining again. The kind of rain Monaco doesn’t see often. The torrential downpour that keeps everyone hidden away inside to keep warm. 

She watches the water droplets race down the window, wondering which one will hit the edge first. It’s not productive, but she needs something to distract her from the ache in her bones. The hunger pains have gotten progressively worse over the last three weeks. Still, she’s finding ways to cope. She has to manage; the pain is what’s keeping her sane. 

 It’s nice being home and hidden behind the water covered window. It means she’s free to drop the human look. All horns and tail, long tongue and sharp teeth, dark eyes and pointed ears. It’s natural - or it used to be. 

It doesn’t quite feel like her anymore. Like somehow everything that had once been a part of her is now irritating. Her horns are heavy and her tail refuses to be anywhere but the ground. All because his words sit in her head and bounce around the cavity in her chest. 

He changed her. 

~~~♡~~~

A month ago, she ran into Jos in the paddock. Even though she doesn’t like the guy, he’s still technically her king - and Max’s dad - so her father in law in a way. Max had mated with her (a heavenly feeling) but had done so without the consent of his father. 

Jos doesn’t like her one bit. Which she doesn’t care about. If Max is the prince of the demons and set to take up leadership at some point, that makes her a princess. They both dislike each other but in the essence of keeping things civil, she makes it work. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here today!” She nodded her head to show respect. Opting for that instead of bowing to this man in broad daylight. 

“I wish I hadn’t seen you at all!” Well - fuck you too - she supposes. She’d fallen into step beside him as they made their way to the Redbull garage. 

She nearly crashes into him when he stops abruptly. He grabs hold of her bicep and drags her down some alleyway between buildings. She goes with compliance, hell only knows what this man can and will do to her. 

Her back hits the wall with a disorienting force. “You’re not enough for us.” 

“I think you mean for you.” 

Jos hisses close enough to her face that she can feel his saliva hitting her. “The council decided you’re not one of us-'' He grabs her chin and she watches as his eyes fade to that deep dark color that usually means something bad is about to happen.

“You will not eat. You are not one of us. Am I clear?” 

She snaps at him. Her attempt at fighting his hold is futile. Not when the damn demon king is trying to hypnotize her. “No!” 

He clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The open flame hovers just above the healed over scar on her clavicle. She shakes, desperate to get away from the heat. “You will not eat. You are not a ghoul. You are not one of us.”

It’s a hypnotic tone that seeps through her ears and floods her veins. The heat of the flame no longer her one weakness as her mind submits itself to the will of her king. 

~~~♡~~~

Her jaw snapped shut. Her vocal chords refused to work. Her throat constricts around liquids. Her teeth become glued to each other each time she tries to bite down into something of nutrients. 

A month of this torture and she can feel herself getting progressively more ravenous. Slowly they’ve exhausted all of their options. No matter how desperately she tries, she can’t get any substance into her. 

Max’s reflection appears in the window. A frown etched upon lips. It doesn’t suit him; Max was made to smile. She likes being the one to cause it. These days it feels like all he’s doing is trying to ease her slow and painful death. 

He sits opposite of her and heaves out a gust of warm air on the window. His pointer finger paints a simple picture of a stick figure. It’s - objectively - a terrible drawing, but it serves its purpose and makes her laugh. 

“I’m scared, Max.”

“I know, schat.” 

They continue to stare out the window. The bond doing the talking for them, passing their emotions back and forth. He can feel her pain and she can feel his inner rage. 

Humans don’t understand. Maybe they never will. They fear those who are different. Think this way and do this thing or you're a monster. Certainly not all of them. Lando and Charles are prime examples of this. Still - surviving amongst them gets harder each day. 

“I know what you want to do.” She turns towards him. Unbidden in the comfort of their own home. His tail flicks in uncertainty. A habit he picked up from Sebastian. “I don’t want you to regret it.” 

“It’s inevitable. Just earlier than planned.” He won’t meet her gaze. “I can’t watch you suffer when I can stop it.” 

“You have always been the chivalrous type.”

Max slides closer to her. His thumb comes to the underside of her chin and pushes it upward. Her eyes have nowhere else to go, forced to get lost in his. A never-ending sea of endless dark that she’d willingly drown in. 

“Chin up, love. There is going to be a crown on your head soon. I’d hate to see it hit the ground.”

~~~♡~~~

She hates not being able to go inside. She understands why she can’t though. She already has the weight of one hypnosis spell weighing her down; she’s more susceptible to another. 

Still, waiting is nerve wracking. The sound of familiar roars fill her ears. Occasionally wincing when she feels Max’s pain. Mild compared to what it is for him. 

Lando and Charles are sitting on the ground with her. Their mates are inside with Max, along with Lewis and Sebastian. She attempts to hold close to the bonds of their tribe. They’ve been planning this for the last couple of weeks. Every hole is plastered with flexi tape. 

“Relax, chéri. They are fine.” 

She won’t open her mouth to mutter a thanks. Not when she’s already salivating and can smell exactly where their pulse points are. Not when she can hear the steady rhythm of their hearts. 

No, she can’t eat, but she’d also rather not risk it. 

“Do we have to bow to you after this whole ordeal is over?” Lando looks at her with a curious expression. “Cause like - Oscar doesn’t bend like that.”

Both her and Charles gape and the odd statement. Lando looks like he’s just stated the weather on an average Monday morning. 

“Lando, are you sure it’s not you who doesn’t bend like that?”

“I think I know how I can bend mate! How do you think we broke the table-“

Charles grimaces, his nose scrunching up and cheeks turning red. “Bleh! I don’t need to know how Oscar bends you.” 

“You asked!”

“And now I regret it…”

Another roar bellows into the night sky. It’s loud and painful. She looks to the boys beside her for confirmation that it’s not Oscar or Carlos. They nod at her, leaving only three options. 

She bolts inside. 

The roars turn to whines. The fire rages over the body of Jos Verstappen. Max has sunk to his knees, the sunset hues of the flames reflect in his eyes and illuminate the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

She falls beside him. Panicked hands search for any possible wounds; any burns in need of immediate attention. Max is crying as she does so, but he’s smiling at the same time. There are a million emotions running through the room. The large flames a mercy to the now deceased king. 

A fallen king lay before them. His body burned to ashes. They watch as he is devoured by the fire. The silence is deafening. The only noise being the roar of the flames. An irony that doesn’t go unnoticed. To feel serene with the one thing that would surely kill her if the starvation doesn’t first. 

Max is the first to approach the pile of ashes on the ground. He creeps up to it like they might reanimate. Like they might take back what they once had and reestablish their hold on her mind with no chance at her escape. 

Sebastian meets Max in the middle. He scoops handfuls of the ash and decorates Max’s skin. The Dutch looks miserable when Sebastian dumps a handful into Max’s own cupped hands. 

“Do I have too?”

“Do you want your fathers powers?” 

He groans, but doesn’t wait any longer. He tries to be serious, but there is an element of humor here despite the situation. 

“Does this mean Max is a cannibal now?!” She supposes Lando is trying to whisper, but the building they are in echoes. He chokes when he hears it. 

“Lando! I am trying to eat my father!” 

“So you are a cannibal!” 

Oscar slaps a hand over his mate's mouth. Briefly, a look of disgust flashes across his face. “If you  really think licking me will work, you are mistaken.” Muffled sounds from underneath Oscar’s hand escape, but nobody understands. 

Max is finally able to choke down the ashes of his father. Certainly not the most conventional of coronations, but she can’t picture it any other way. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where we were dropping to our knees for this guy.” Carlos chuckles from somewhere beside her as they close in on the new king. 

Not a prince anymore - a king. 

It suits him more, she thinks. Standing tall in front of his tribe, still laughing at Lando and Oscar and their odd positioning. At Carlos and his playful pride as he kneels. He exchanges a smile with Charles after years of rivalry now comes a shared respect. He turns endearingly to Sebastian and Lewis looking at him like proud parents. 

Then to her. She’s on the ground, her knees bruised already. Max pulls her up into his arms. He brings his hands to her jaw and once again she drifts into the calm of his endless eyes. 

Soft fingers massage her jaw. The one that aches with a desperate need for something she hasn’t had in so long. He’s gentle with her, like an antique porcelain doll that might break if he applies too much pressure. 

“You are worthy of every good thing. You are one of us, just as you always have been and you are deserving of your life.” 

The cement that had been fire in her veins vanishes as he speaks. Max keeps talking, but she’s too lost in the relief from these heavy feelings - the euphoria of knowing she belongs again. The cavern of her chest is beating with words of comfort. 

Her horns don’t feel like extra weights and her tail finds Max’s with immediate ease. They intertwine like they had before. 

“You are here and loved. You have a place with us.” He tilts her chin upward like he’s done since they mated. “Chin up, your highness, you’re a queen now.” 

~~~♡~~~

Sated. 

Her body aches from a full belly instead of the hunger pains. As does the rest of their tribe, she presumes. 

Max keeps getting phone calls… and he keeps ignoring them. Instead opting to keep his attention focussed on his tribe. His love for them - for her - is radiating through his every move. 

“I think King Max sounds good on you.” She flashes her teeth at him. The others are either chatting, or if you’re Oscar then you’re using Lando as a blanket and sleeping. They are paying no attention to them. 

“You think? I’d always resented it.” 

“You’re going to change things, Max. That’s not something to resent.” They hook tails again, a comfort she’d missed dearly. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now since you saved my life. I’m going to be the most demanding queen.” She waves her hand around for dramatic flair. 

“Oh yeah? How so?” 

“First I’m going to demand that you cuddle me - and I’ll figure out the rest later!” 

“As you wish, your highness.” 

[ballad-of-the-lamb]

I've been bingeing your art in this blog for, like, the last hour. Sooo much good stuff!

Can we hear more about notable members of the Cult? Cheese Parm's s/o and such

cult info below cut b/c i'm gonna be typing a lot;

Everyone listed here are basically the main runners/cast when it comes to plot relevance in the story in itself. there are plenty of cast & characters that aren't- but they wont pop up for anything other than background characters perhaps staring on in horror at god antics or one another's antics.

we'll start from the top;

GALLOWS [ girlyed cheese ]

the most recent member of the cult to be saved specifically by the lamb themself from sacrifice within Darkwood.

a lot of cult conflict will begin with the uninitiated, the unknowing. and the influence of the twin gods will be seen on her in real time as the story progresses.

she is generally a very generic playful-but-tricky fox character, but there's a lot she hides; much like the rest of the cult members. her past is not happily talked about, or seldom is.

she was a native to Darkwood. She is chaotic because of it.

she was meant to be burned at the stake.

EKPYROSIS [ asbestos ]

This word derives from a Greek word for a great fire. It represents a belief held by some scholars of Stoicism, that says that the universe has no beginning or end, and instead is destroyed and remade in a great conflagration in a cyclic manner. Just as life & death ever are.

Her name stands out among the rest of the cult because it was the name that the Lamb bestowed upon her upon being given the title of disciple. Just as Narinder took Baal & Aym to learn from him, the Lamb took her.

Her previous name is not known to anyone mind the Lamb themself, Narinder, and cheese parm.

She is more inclined to using and being influenced by the eldritch artifacts & relics the Lamb or Narinder tend to return with.

She leaves an uneasy and terrible 'uncanny valley' feeling tenfold within her vicinity, which makes her hard to be around. It is not just being outright creepy- but it's a lot more akin to literally feeling reality dip and bow around you into something not quite right.

She does not move like a normal person. The way she walks, runs, jumps- it's all too impossible to replicate without someone shattering every bone in their body.

When she speaks, her voice is delayed from her mouth. And it doesn't always line up perfectly.

most notably; cheese parm hates her. for good reason.

OTHERA [ bong water ]

An average cult member on the surface. They are a caretaker, they are matronly, they work as the local therapist. Generally just likes taking care of people.

When the Lamb, Disciples, & Narinder aren't around to listen to confessionals in the booth they are typically who does.

It's an unspoken rule to not make them angry or let them get to '1' when they start counting down from 5.

He is typically known for the reason morale is good. A good shoulder to rely on.

He is the third oldest member of the cult, resurrected multiple times over to serve his purpose, next to cheese parm & his sister. they are also the only one that asbestos seems to actively fear besides cheese parm.

EUNOMIA [ they/theminem ]

Eunomia was a minor goddess of law and legislation, whose name means "Good Laws", and is specifically a goddess of order according to good governance.

The second disciple. Known for learning the use of the Lamb's personally created curses specifically, though does know the ones Narinder passed on. They do not deem themselves worthy enough to use those.

Generally a very angry & spiteful person for a multitude of reasons. It mostly comes down to 'bearer of the curse' and the curse being knowledge.

They are the only one really permitted to 'backtalk' due to how much they actually do know their place.

they are very heavily disciplined under the rule of self-flagellation, and know the tenants and rites better than anyone else in the cult. even the head ritualist.

as said on paper. cheese parm's s/o. the significantly scarier one. they have not had a reason to be scary in a good couple hundred years! don't make them start now.

has 2 adopted kids w/ cheese parm they raise.

PANKRATIAST [ cheese parm ]

The Pankration is a sport of unarmed combat that featured in the ancient Olympic Games in Greece. This specific association fits as he's specifically an unarmed fighter first and foremost.

While not a disciple, is considered one generally in 'importance' to the higher ups of the cult. While he is no more important than Gallows, Othera, Minced Meat, or any other average member- he has the veteran's respect.

Was given a name by the Lamb, and since he does not speak, it's not like he can correct anyone otherwise.

well. doesn't talk. only ever communicates in vague grunts and noises that voice displeasure or a neutral 'ok'

Generally considered stoic, he does not feel strongly about most things.

The village executioner. The head missionary. Bartender. Does all the jobs no one else wants to do, and even others when no one else does it.

Smells of gore & wet dog constantly.

Knows. Remembers. Knows why death is broken, knows how it broke, will not tell Lamb or Narinder. He is a Witness.

Knows all the weaponry the Lamb uses & can use it just as effectively on a physical level.

The first of the flock. Will be there even when there is no more flock to have. As it will ever be, pinkie promised back in the Silk Cradle back where he was first found.

ILONA [ taco bell qsdea ]

a specialist in alchemy, cooking, & plants. Tends to the farms, gardens, & warding stones.

The first of the cult members Narinder warmed up to directly after descension. They brought him food every day, they gave him supplies, and other than the Lamb- they were the first to not be terrified of him.

They are very blind and often need a guide when they are not allowed to use their clicks and noises to find the way.

They are immune to Gallows' tricks and run off of the 'fae logic' of most things.

Their name means 'joy'. A name they decided on after speaking to Narinder for a time.

The first cult members recruited directly after Narinder's descension.

Immune to the horrors Somehow. There is something hiding behind those big ol eyes

Can fly. They have wings attached to their arms, and for it, require special clothes.

will be involved a lot in narinder plots

MINCED MEAT [ childbirth gambino ]

head cook but kind of as a threat. the lamb put them there for a reason. they are pretty mid.

constantly paranoid and in a state of fear or unease. Does not sleep because of it, and instead compulsively cooks almost all day and night.

most random screeches or noises in the cult come from this little guy

absolutely scared shitless of the Lamb.

The first Dissenter since the Lamb's ascension. They were made an example of. Now they will never. They have seen god's wrath, and would rather die.

narinder likes to bully this thing by hissing at him in the night

attached to beansnesed'd bsbisebies hip when in the chapel or out and about.

the prime example of 'the lamb is not a good person.'

ALOPE [ deep dish pizza ]

cheese parm's little sister. and borderline clone. she copies everything he's done up until adulthood when she started to become her own person. though it's been hundreds, if not thousands of years, she's still trying to figure out who she is.

made a pinkie promise to the lamb, just like cheese parm, to always be there. and she has!

ripped as fuck. like, more than cheese parm. huge. absolute beast thing.

the lamb prevented a fated death in her, the first time he ever did so, and for it her title is technically 'Saint Alope' within the cult for being the act of a miracle.

like her brother, never speaks vocally, never shows her face. gets across feelings through vague grunts. uses sign language where cheese parm does not.

the fastest in the cult. rivals narinder in base speed without using necklaces or unnatural abilities.

uses two ritual dirks or daggers at any given point, throwing knives, things of that sort. protects the village next to cheese parm, and you'll never hear her coming. totally, absolutely silent.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Hi I was wondering if you knew any fics about where Luffy successfully rescues ace from Impel Down.

Of course! I did my best to find fics where it was Luffy who saved Ace, but I've also included some where someone else helped!

Ace Rescued From Impel Down Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :) Enjoy!

A Fair Trade by Rijus_Hope - Not Rated

Luffy and his crew hear about Ace's execution before it reaches the papers, before they're split up at Sabaody Archipelago. His crew is ready for Luffy to boldly declare that they were going to break his brother out of prison, but Luffy is as unpredictable as ever, and presents an entirely different plan: To offer himself, the son of the Revolutionary Dragon, as a prisoner in Ace's place.

It was cold without you by my side by Dezace - Rated T

Sabo just got back from a mission. He overhears news concerning the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard pirates and the supernova Strawhat Luffy. Strawhat was reported to be in Impel Down, trying to break out Fire Fist Ace. What the World Government didn't know was that this caused a domino effect of epic proportions. Sabo would rather kill himself than not do anything. His brothers were counting on him.

The will to live is harder to keep than a will to die by Dezace - Rated T

Ace was chained down in Impel Down, waiting for his execution and death, knowing that nothing can change that. When Ace hears the news that Luffy was here and there for him, Ace couldn't sit still. Not anymore. Or: Ace decided that being the damsel in distress sucks and that if you wanted something done right, do it yourself.

Of Seas and Freedom by OCEANSHELLS - Rated T

Law and Luffy break Ace out of Impel Down during a date and make out in the elevator, not exactly in that order.

Fair Enough by WolfyTheWolfz - Rated T

Luffy finds out about Ace's execution, and instead of rushing straight towards Impel Down, he enlists the help of Boa Hancock, to help trade himself for his brother but to also get a message out to his crew.

see you again by yeonjunenby - Rated T

While awaiting his execution, Ace silently wishes that he could have seen his brothers Luffy and Sabo one more time. His wish comes true, except for some reason this Sabo and Luffy appear to be from three years in the future, and they seem hellbent on breaking him out of prison.

Of course I'd come for you by Lerya - Rated T

Making a beeline to the end of the hallway, Luffy didn't care about anything else but getting to his big brother.

Garp taught Luffy how to be a marine and uses that knowledge to break into a government facility by Dezace - Rated T

Garp wanted Luffy and Ace to be Marines, so he taught them what a good marine should know and how to do it. While Ace and Luffy obviously didn't become marines, that knowledge was, literally, pounded into their heads. With Ace captured and set for execution, Luffy uses that knowledge to bust his brother out of prison. Or: Why Garp shouldn't have taught an upcoming rookie what Marine codes meant because all it led to was the chaos a pirate could use it for.

Not Once, But Twice In A Lifetime by BonneyJewelry - Rated G

On the way to Wano, Luffy is forced to rest by his frantic reindeer doctor. When he snaps his eyes open again, he is not where he expects to be. Is that Aces Vivre Card?

Never Let Go by Applepie - Rated G

Sabo never managed to escape from his father after he gave himself up for Ace and Luffy’s sake. But ten years pretending to be the Noble his father expects him to be is nothing when it lets him save his brother in the end. (In which Ace gets a visitor in Impel Down, and it’s the last person he expects.)

The Rescue Party by UntoldDepths - Rated M

In which the Straw Hat pirate crew finds out about Ace's execution earlier than canon and immediately launches a rescue mission.

[iblameashley]

Dating Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Civilian | Male | Gay

Content: Headcanons, Gay stuff, First dates, Budding relationship, Pre-relationship, Alcohol use, Mixed emotions, Military stuff, Guns, etc.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male

!!!SFW!!!

Note: This is kind of an in between of short-story and bullet point dating headcanons. I've wanted to write this for a while, but lacked motivation to go full story mode... sorry! Also, I do not know UK Gun Laws or how Gun Ranges work there, so just... go with the flow, OK?

It happened weeks ago; Simon stared down at his phone with a sense of dread, though you'd never have known just looking at him. He didn't even know why he had agreed to download this fucking app to begin with, though as usual it was at Soap and Gaz's insistence... and pestering. All he had wanted was some quiet on his day off, not to be harassed by yet another chatty man looking to suck his dick in an alley.

Sighing, he scrolled to the message that had just come in – a handsome young lad with a wide smile and kind eyes. It had started innocently enough, the usual pleasantries first, briefs answers after, and the long wait to see how long it would take to either receive a dick-pic or have a request for one.

Neither happened. In fact, the lad had actually carried on a decent conversation over the course the last few weeks, inquiring about hobbies and interests, career and what he was looking for. But then the lad had asked that they meet up on the upcoming weekend.

It's ironic that Ghost decided to ghost the poor lad. He didn't block him – frankly, he didn't know how – he simply didn't respond and closed the app. It was for the best, at least that's what he told himself, though he had blatantly lied to Gaz and Soap when asked how it was going, claiming all he could find was horny men looking for a quick hookup. Not that Gaz or Soap understood why that was a problem; they assumed Ghost getting laid couldn't make him worse.

But then they found out he lied, a casual glance at his phone when a message came in, and then another, asking about the date and apologizing if he had offended Simon.

Its rare that anyone could corner Ghost, but that's just what Soap and Gaz did, hounding their commanding officer until he ran out of excuses.

“Ye owe the lad an explanation.” Soap chided him, a finger pointed in his face.

“Agreed, you can't leave the lad hanging!” Gaz chimed in with a disgruntled look on his face.

So Simon agreed to apologize and reply to the poor lad, and even agreed to a date. He was ready for this, he knew he was charming and could flirt with the best of em', he just had no need to before. He simply wasn't interesting in dating.

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Cuppa

Simon: He felt nervous for this date, in many ways it felt like a blind date since he had only ever seen your face in a few pictures. He dressed nicely (Button-down, fitted jeans, boots and some cologne was dabbed behind his ears where the mask hooked), He was confident, pleasant, charming and funny throughout the date. But he saw the way you looked at him with every passing question and answer and was beginning to think this was a mistake. You weren't compatible... but why did that bother him?

You: You arrived early and found a nice little table at the cafe to wait for Simon. To say you were surprised by the giant of a man who appeared would be an understatement. As you both settled in and ordered drinks, you attempted to dive right into it. Your talk walk halting and awkward as Simon dodged most questions about himself with grunts, shrugs or one-word answers. His insistence on using terrible puns and dad-jokes made it more difficult to get to know him. It was frustrating, to say the least, but you persisted. He did at least ask some questions about you, which eased things, but you knew that if this was all he was willing to give, it would be difficult to go on more dates, let alone start a relationship.

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Movie and Dinner

Simon: Of course Simon would agree to a movie date followed by dinner. It meant that he got to sit in silence and darkness for about two hours, and then could have a bite to eat after where you would likely do a majority of the talking. He had already tried his best on the first date, it was up to you to pick up the slack this time. The movie went fine for the most part, except when you grabbed his arm during a jump-scare that made him roll his eyes.

Over dinner, he picked away at the curry on his plate while you discussed the movie. He was surprised by your review of the movie and its themes and found himself agreeing with you on many points. Maybe you weren't such a terrible date after all. He decided to pay for dinner, despite your protests.

You: It was stupid of you to choose a thriller for a movie date, but you really wanted to see the movie and no one else would go with you. Since Simon agreed, you made it a date and added dinner after. Thank the good Lord it was dark in the theatre; you turned bright red at the jump scare and felt bad for grabbing Simon's arm. You felt the way he tensed, but were too embarrassed to apologize to him.

Dinner went much better and Simon actually became more engaging as you discussed the movie and its plot. He seemed to enjoy your nerding out and even cracked a small smile.

As dinner came to an end, you thanked him for the (genuinely) enjoyable night and get ready to pay, since the date was your suggestion. Simon wouldn't allow it and ended up paying regardless. Maybe this lumbering, awkward man wasn't so bad after all.

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Pub Trivia

Simon: Simon's intelligence isn't limited to Military knowledge, so he decided to take you to a pub trivia night, though he couldn't understand why he had this continued desire to impress you. You. Just some civilian who had taken an interest in him.

In between the rounds and pints, he started to talk to you about his mates Gaz and Soap who gave him the idea for this date. You'd like them, he was sure, but it was too early for you to be meeting his friends, he was sure to remind you.

You: You couldn't deny the Simon was an encyclopedia of general knowledge, his brain was like a sponge, it seemed. He had filled in the sheets of answers rather quickly each round, but you got the chance to flex your brain full of useless pop culture knowledge in the last few rounds.

What really entertained you though, was that the drunker this man got, the more he was willing to open up to you... you should have got him pissed sooner. You laughed when he reminded you it was too early to meet his friends, despite never asking to. This man was ridiculous and in its own way, it was endearing.

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Aquarium

Simon: He had agreed to a date with you a few weeks prior but had to cancel due to deployment. He promised he'd take you out when he got back, but by the time the mission was over and he returned to base he didn't want to do the obstacle course. You surprised him when you offered a less energy-intensive option, and here he was at the aquarium now.

As you two strolled leisurely through the dark hallways of glass staring at a multitude of sea creates, Simon found himself actually relaxing; something he was unaccustomed to after a long mission. You stood unreasonably close, but he allowed it, figuring you were uncomfortable with all the other people wandering close by.

A brief stop at the aquarium cafeteria (for an unimpressive meal that would have made the mess hall staff on base look like Michelin Star chefs), filled the both of you up enough to know you'd make it to dinner and something more satisfying.

You managed to convince Simon to take a walk through the gift shop, and ended up buying him a pack of face masks with a shark-teeth pattern on them. He was surprised and delighted, though he wouldn't admit that to you.

You: Your heart sank when Simon tried to cancel the date - but you also understood he just came back from deployment. Maybe you were getting to know him better between the dates and texting, but you could feel his exhaustion, so you offered an alternative; a stroll through the aquarium.

It was rather cold in the building and you found yourself drifting towards Simon... that's how it started anyway. He smelled good too, and you felt comfortable with him. You desperately wanted to hold his hand, but figured that was a boundary too far for right now.

You treated him to food in the cafeteria, swallowing it hard and trying to hide your dissatisfaction with the offerings while he ate everything on his plate with his usual impassive face.

There was no plan to buy anything from the gift shop, you just liked wandering them to see what was there... but the sight of the face masks was too good to pass up. Simon always showed up to a date in a mask, and only took it off when eating, drinking or for a quick smoke. So it seemed fitting and perfect get these shark-print ones for him. You thought you could see a smile under his current mask as you handed them to him.

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Shooting Range

Simon: Simon was absolutely intent on showing off his sharpshooting skills to you. It was the closest thing to 'giddy' that he allowed himself to feel as he drove you to the range. Simon is an expert in his field, matched only by sparingly few men - and several good women too.

But there was also a feeling of caution and anxiety as you both signed in and got your gear ready. Simon watched like a hawk as you eyed the guns over before making a few selections. A Glock 17, Mossberg 500 and M4 Carbine... Interesting selections.

This was as handsy as Simon had ever been with someone, ensuring that your safety gear was secure and that you followed instructions to the letter. He was already hesitant about this activity to begin with, but you seemed genuinely interested.

Simon ensured that you paid close attention, and that he assisted you with aiming as well as stood close by as you fired. What he wasn't expecting was your proficiency with the Mossberg. You each took turns firing at targets, and to no surprise to either of you, Simon was the winner... though there were no winners, it was all in good fun. But if there were, Simon would have won.

You: You chose the Glock because it had always fascinated you, the Mossberg because you grew up in the country and were familiar with similar shotguns and the Carbine because it seemed the most military of the selection.

You couldn't stop the thrill that ran through you as Simon checked all your gear and guns, ensuring everything was secure and safeties were on before going straight into his lecture about gun safety. You listened to him speak with confidence and authority, happy to see him in his element. You wanted to make sure you gave him and the guns the respect they deserved and did everything he said without question - or at least with very little question.

Your heart raced as Simon kept close. You knew very little about guns overall, but the way he pressed himself against you to help you aim, the calm voice he spoke in as he guided you, the feeling of his hand on your back as he stepped away to let you take the shot. You were melting with happiness.

The biggest thrill was when you fired the Mossberg several times. The look on Simon's face was priceless as you expertly handled the shotgun and even gave him a run for his money with your accuracy, but that was a secret to share another time.

You gracefully conceded your defeat to the expert in front of you, but couldn't help but notice what might have been pride in his look as he reviewed your targets one last time.

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Cooking Class(es)

Simon: It's not that Simon is bad at cooking - he's really not - but he didn't have the opportunity to flex his skill often, and he had a select few dishes that he excelled at. So when you suggested this date, he was a bit apprehensive.

But Simon was a man used to following orders - usually - and listened intently to everything that was explained to him, so he settled in at the table next to you and took charge.

He needed a bowl? You had it for him already. Needed something washed? It was already done and drying. Missing ingredient? Nope, on your left. Simon appreciated your own attentiveness to the task, and how you made it go so much more smoothly.

And then the dessert section came up, and Simon floundered. Hard. Main courses aren't a challenge for him, but Simon doesn't bake. Not for a lack of interest, but a lack of time usually.

You picked up the slack though, and he reluctantly ceded control to you, letting you guide him in making the Zeppole.

Simon's demeanour softened as the class came to an end and you both sat there sampling the homemade ravioli, a glass of wine and eventually the Zeppole.

Before you parted ways, you gave Simon a tight hug, demanding he return it otherwise you weren't letting go. Simon decided to simply return the hug instead of forcing you off him.... not because he actually liked the hug from you.

You: Simon seemed to be taking this class very seriously from the moment he arrived. He stood in a typical rigid manner while listening and nodding along as instructions were given. The only thing missing was a few 'Yes sir!' replies.

The man made a complete mess though, and you found yourself quickly cleaning up after him in an attempt to keep up with his pace. But even still, you had fun. You got him the things you both needed for the meal, made sure the table was tidy and even engaged in some small talk.

It took everything in you to not laugh out loud as you say the panic in Simon's eyes as he read the instructions for the dessert. It was like he was reading a completely different language and, after a few failed starts, you took over and guided him.

As the class came to an end, and you could both indulge in the meal you created together. You clinked your wine glass against his and took a bite of the ravioli that was mostly his handiwork. It was good! Dessert wasn't too bad either and Simon gave a contented smile as he ate the last of the Zeppole.

You both relaxed on a nearby bench after the class for a few minutes, letting the meal settle in your stomachs before Simon explained he needed to get back to base. You stood up to say your goodbyes, but noticed how he lingered. How he hovered over you; closer than you were accustomed to from him. Taking the chance, you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around his waist and lowered your head into the crook of his neck. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, and you begin to worry you misread the situation; joking that you weren't going to let go until he reciprocated, and gently his hands found their way to your backside and pulled you into the best hug you've ever had. Simon held on longer than you did, though you never truly let go until his hands fell to his sides.

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[aroceu]

what's been happening at the otw?

so it seems that on twitter and possibly tumblr, people have been hearing things about the otw board/election stuff without really knowing what's going on. a lot of the different issues get conflated and confused with each other, and things that aren't related get connected while things that are related don't. i'm making this post to make things clear, since i've been following some of it (primarily the otw board stuff) from the outside so that people know exactly what is going on, and to reduce the spread of misinformation.

a lot of this information comes from this dreamwidth journal, which has been documenting many testimonies and receipts, for full context.

an earlier timeline of the csem and insensitive treatment of policy and abuse committee volunteers is documented at @221loislane, on this post.

the election season

every year — for anyone out of touch with how the organization of transformative works (otw) politics go, yes this occurs every year as seats can be held for 3 years maximum but resignations happen, leading to staggering — the org has an election season for the main board of directors. they oversee all of the otw's fan projects, including ao3 and fanlore. there are 7 seats, one of whom is the president (kari dayton).

if a chair resigns, then their seat may remain empty to the end of the term or to the next election season, depending on when they resign. if they resign early, a runner-up from the previous election may take their seat.

elections generally take place every summer, but the actual changing of hands occurs in in the fall. board directors are known by their real life name; this has always been the policy. prior to this year, when candidacies were announced, it was with their full name. however, due to the csem attack emails that were targeting volunteers last may, it seems that they added a layer of protection for the candidates this year, and initially announced them with their first name and last initial.

this election season, there were originally 4 chairs that were going to be vacant and needed to be filled. there were also originally 7 candidates, some of whom applied for candidacy last minute. one of the candidates withdrew early (mid june), so this came down to 6.

in order to vote in an election, you must donate a minimum $10usd prior to a certain date in june (this year being june 30) and tick the box that says you want to become a member.

the republican candidate

on july 24, people started spreading the fact that one of the otw board candidates, audrey richards, is a republican. this is true: she ran for a republican seat for the us house of reps in 2022 (and prior to that, as an independent in 2020.) this can be seen on her ballotpedia. we know that she is the same audrey richards, because her ballotpedia page also connects her with the otw.

let me be clear: this is still in line with org policy, in terms of her real name getting released. their full names were going to be released to the public at some point, and as far as i know the org did not state that they would hide their full names until after the election.

many people, especially americans on the ao3 (full disclosure: i am one of the americans on ao3) were very wary about this, because the republican party has been endorsing increasingly dangerous laws and policies along the lines of fascism and transphobia. audrey running as a republican does not necessarily mean that she agrees with these values; however, because she, as a white woman, felt comfortable enough to align herself with a party that does, many lgbt people and people of color had every right to have reservations about her. her statements about ukraine (disagreeing with biden sending arms) and her involvement with "children and screens" was also brought under scrutiny: see this post by discluded. (i am not endorsing discluded's post; it simply cites some concerns with audrey)

due to claims of harassment (i am also not saying whether or not they occurred), she resigned from candidacy and from the org as a whole on july 25, declaring "congrats on the witch hunt." (x)

the otw then released a statement dissuading people from harassing board candidates. this was not taken well, as they were completely silent last year regarding unsubstantiated rumors about tiffany g, a previous election candidate who's chinese, with views that many were not comfortable with, to the point of saying that she might be a spy for the chinese government. this was spread by chinese- and english-speaking users alike. the otw was silent about this. however, this year, many volunteers internally have said that the otw's silence towards harassment is damning, and in any case, even in audrey's, they should speak up against it, resulting in their public statement.

reprimanding a volunteer of color

also on july 24, coincidentally enough, a volunteer of color made a post about receiving a letter about constructive corrective action procedure (ccap) from the tag wrangling team, due to making volunteers uncomfortable by speaking up about racism in the org.

the tl;dr of why they received the letter boiled down to:

talking about the org's racism in a ~certain way~ in public channels where volunteers could not leave made some vols uncomfortable

sharing internal chatlogs and correspondences to the public. EXCEPT THE THINGS SHE SHARED WERE HER OWN MESSAGES. and before july 25, the only OTHER thing she had shared to the public was the otw's direction on how volunteers should approach getting csem, from the spam attack last year, on a comment in a news post - which is an email that ALL VOLUNTEERS GOT. because none of that was public! no one knew what the org's approach to the spam attack in order to protect the volunteers was! she disclosed it so randoms who are not volunteers would know!

"outing" a volunteer, except she DIDN'T, because the volunteer had outed THEMSELVES in the chat program previously and repeatedly, then changed their icon at some point to indicate they didn't want to link the identities anymore. but there had never been a formal announcement or request not to link the identities, and who was supposed to take an icon change as an indicator of that, so IN THE CHAT PROGRAM (not in public!) kutti made a reference to something that person (under their real name) said in public (under their fannish handle/icon) and got reprimanded for it

emyn a has since made a post about how kutti's general behavior in the chat has made him uncomfortable and was one of the reasons why he withdrew his candidacy, and that he supported the fact that she received the ccap. he stated that alex tischer's abrasiveness (see below) was probably because of where alex is from, in europe. he also said that kutti outed a withdrawn candidate (probably audrey) in the chat program, which was not public information prior to his post. the rest of his claims are presently not substantiated, and most of what i have read about his accusations boil down to tone policing.

EDIT: kutti clarified that emyn got her mixed up with another volunteer of color in one of these claims. she says that she has never talked about audrey either internally nor externally, and does not know what other handles she would link audrey to. she also specified that emyn's accusation of her using "provocative descriptors, such as 'disgusting'" was in context of her criticizing the org's handling of azarias — a volunteer who handled many csem tickets last year, then got their account suspended without warning, and then got implicated for distribution in an org-wide letter, which, yeah, is pretty fucking disgusting!

the alex problem

i mentioned the ccap above because kutti references it in her post about alex tischer here, and when i linked to it on twitter people were confused as to what ccap meant and why it was significant. and i don't think kutti's treatment should go ignored either, because i think it signifies a larger problem that the org has.

and one of these very glaring problems is alex tischer. alex tischer was on the board this year, being their last year of their current term. they were on the board previously too, from 2015-2018. tischer has been called a "missing stair" by multiple volunteers, and a huge problem in the org's function.

more specifically, and as confirmed by a former volunteer i talked to on an ao3 post (wherein they corrected me for conflating two incidents), some incidents that occurred with tischer were:

in 2020, when mainland chinese vols were encouraged to do more recruitment for volunteers on weibo (a mainland china site), the otw had added two new language tags on ao3: tai-gi (taiwanese) and cantonese. the vols were also encouraged to endorse this — not specifically by alex — on weibo. china and taiwan have VERY high geopolitical tensions, and the vols endorsing the addition of the taiwanese language on a mainland chinese site could potentially put them in danger. when they expressed this, alex had told them to "not appease a shitty government," or something along those lines — indicating alex did not care for their safety in a heavily censored country, over sticking it to the man or whatever. (alex is white/german and lives in the uk.)

in 2023, separate from this issue, the otw had decided to shut down the transformative works weibo page without consulting the chinese volunteers. the chinese vols were very pissed and protested, first in english. and then, when their concerns weren't being heard, they started in protesting in chinese. this prompted alex to reply to them, in german, "We can throw all sorts of things at each other, but if we don't agree on a lingua franca, we won't achieve much" (Wir können uns gegenseitig alle möglichen Dinge an den Kopf werfen aber wenn wir uns nicht auf eine Lingua Franca einigen erreichen wir nicht viel.) which, in my opinion, is pretty fucking irrelevant to chinese volunteers not getting their voices heard for something that they had every right to get their voice heard on, and basically told them to "speak english" when they had been speaking english previously and getting ignored!!!

a discussion from the otw slack in 2020 was leaked, wherein a black volunteer asked a question and expressed interest in knowing the diversity of the board of directors. not the diversity of all volunteers. they immediately got dogpiled on by multiple volunteers, alex included, saying that asking for such a thing could endanger the safety of volunteers (which is pretty fucking ironic considering alex's treatment of the chinese vols), the black volunteer should've backread a day's worth of chatlogs, saying that asking about diversity was chilling, etc. i cannot summarize in full how furious this chatlog makes me, so if you are capable i do recommend you to read it to see how utterly defensive everyone got at a simple question about diversity.

these things are relevant because on july 25, kutti made a post about alex — because other volunteers had been asking in the otw slack about kutti's situation, and a volunteer compared how kutti was treated, for speaking up about racism, to how alex was treated, who was consistently xenophobic and as far as anyone knew, did not receive a reprimand for it. alex then doubled down on their previous comments.

this prompted kutti's post, both to publicize this incident and to call for alex's immediate suspension.

board directors resign

there were, at the time, five chairs on board, due to the fact that two had resigned previously (heather in may 2023, jess in nov 2022; neither were replaced). after this incident, volunteers were furious and backed kutti up and also called for alex to resign, or for the other chairs to kick alex out.

two chairs in particular, antonius and natalia, were already on hiatus. they were also pressured to kick alex out, due to the fact that they were only standing chairs, not active, so volunteers wanted them to either come off hiatus and start the process to get alex out, or if they could not do their chair duties, resign. i believe the board needs a 2/3rds vote to kick someone off as a chair, which is why they were brought into the conversation — 2/5 chairs would not be enough.

on july 26, natalia did reprimand alex's behavior in the chat according to some sources. an anonymous source said that both natalia and antonius had started their resignation process prior to the alex-kutti incident; they made this public and official after/during this conversation.

on july 27, alex also said that they had resigned "yesterday." it is unclear if they only resigned from the board, or the org as a whole, considering they were still the webs chair, a tag wrangler, and on the translation and support committees.

all three board resignations were made public in an official announcement on july 27; natalia and antonius's were made first, with alex's as an add-on shortly afterward. however, as alex and antonius's spots were already outgoing, this has only opened up ONE slot for the election: a fifth one. and there are five candidates.

what happens next?

with five vacant seats and five candidates, this means that the election is uncontested. however, two of the five candidates will serve partial terms (the ones who get less votes; 2 years each), while three of the five candidates will serve full terms (3 years each.) if you've donated at least $10 to the otw in the past year, you're eligible to vote. a comprehensive schedule can be found here.

all candidate platforms/q&as can be found here in individual posts, and here as a spreadsheet.

by the way, this is not the first time most of, if not a full board has resigned almost all at once. this occurred previously in 2015, due to some of the following incidents (these may not be all of the reasons for the mass resignation, but definitely for many of them):

insanely incompetent financial handling wherein they had donations up to six figures held in paypal accounts

the removal of sanders, a candidate during that election season, because she had resigned from her role as treasurer recently, thus supposedly making her ineligible to run (candidates must have served as a volunteer in any position for 2 years), even though she was still on the dev committee. she did not resign from the candidacy herself. the election committee had objected to this but was overridden by the board. sanders is black.

a board chair had gone under a sockpuppet account during multiple candidate chats asking questions "as a concerned member," even though she was board chair, indicating a conflict of interest.

during the open board meeting in november (after the election), without warning the board decided to appoint andrea, the candidate who got the least number of votes that election year, to a spot that was vacated a whole year before. it was hard for me to find context around this situation but from what i've gathered, andrea was already friends with the present board and the newly appointed board had not yet settled in. when this was met with appropriate backlash and accusations of power grabbing, this is when the entire board at the time — minus the new elects — resigned.

i bring this up to show that the otw has never been a perfect organization — rather, it has always had its problems. i did not pay much attention to these incidents previously, but considering how the current election season has become more and more prominent on my social media, i feel that it's important for me to be in the know now, and to spread this information to others.

i am not a volunteer (although i used to be a tag wrangler for a brief time.) i am not speaking on behalf of anyone mentioned or linked in this post except for myself. i strongly believe in making an organization's policies public and for as much information to be accessible as possible, for a site that i'm an active member on and love to use. i believe in ensuring the safety, comfort, and consideration of volunteers of color. i am making this post because i believe the otw deserves to be transparent like any other organization. please feel free to share and discuss as you see fit; and if any of this information is incorrect, please let me know asap!

edit: follow-up incidents

this post by @fandomantiracism writes a detailed timeline of the mishandling of chinese volunteers (including the below incidents), and explains exactly why the environment in which otw volunteers in china must be handled with a modicum of more care than they do currently. please read it to fully understand the cvols' situation! (disclaimer: i am not affiliated with this blog.)

during the candidate chats, a chinese candidate got an extremely inappropriate question from a present chair/former or present board member, breaching on org privacy (even though kutti got a ccap for less), a clear attempt to attack the candidate by making them appear unsafe and immature, and with a lie that put their ACTUAL SAFETY at risk. see this post, and this thread on twitter

an aforementioned former volunteer detailed another incident where the treatment of chinese volunteers was severely mishandled; see here

[thatonefanficwriternooneknows]

FoxQuin Week Day 5: Fox Kills the Chancellor

Good Afternoon/Morning/Evening/Night!

This is probably my favorite right behind day 6! I had a good time writing a little glance into an AU :D

I've gone ahead and queued up days 6 and 7 on Tumblr, the ao3 version will be out on Monday along with the official update for TOUCHED <3

Day 5: Fox kills the Chancellor/"The Guard doesn't have a Jedi" @foxquinweek

Enjoy :D

--

“How is this supposed to work, exactly? No one ever set up any rules about how the clones would be tried in a court of law.” Plo Koon questioned with a heavy sigh, his Commander placing a soothing hand on his shoulder, glaring at the small holo of a vod in a cell.

“That would be because clones aren’t people, General. We get decommissioned, not tried.” Commander Thorn of the Coruscant Guard stated blandly enough that every councilor in the room jerked with shock.

“The Jedi Council put a stop to decommissioning, Commander.” Obi-wan spoke carefully, watching the three remaining Commanders of the Coruscant Guard, each standing perfectly straight in parade rest, helmets facing forward. They didn’t even move when someone addressed them.

“Sure, for the GAR.” Commander Thire added.

The Councilors shared uneasy looks.

“No…for all troopers, Thire.” Mace Windu’s Commander spoke even slower, enunciating his words very carefully.

“Maybe you should check that again, Commander. The Guard and the GAR are two separate organizations.” The final commander, Commander Stone, added, speaking just as slowly as Ponds had.

Silence echoed in the chamber while Depa Billaba was frantically scrolling on a datapad.

“While Depa looks for the order. In military tribunals the trooper’s Jedi normally speaks for them.” Mace Windu groaned, messaging his temples with both hands.

“The Guard doesn’t have a Jedi.” The three Guard commanders spoke in unison, the room freezing once more and devolving into silence.

“The Guard doesn’t have a Jedi…what?” Adi Gallia stuttered.

If the Guard Commanders weren’t wearing helmets then their raised brows would have been seen, as it was, every councilmember felt it.

“We had to have assigned a Jedi to the Coruscant Guard, how else were you getting supplies?” Even Piell grumbled.

“You’d have to ask Commander Fox that, sir. He was the one in charge of the Guard.” Thorn responded, all three of them moving their heads to stare at the holo of said vod in a small jail cell.

There was no movement from the holo, considering it was muted, but there were some mumbles and murmurs.

A gasp from Depa Billaba cut them all off.

“What is it, Depa?” Mace spat out, his eyes clenched shut and managing deep heaving breaths between words. Several councilors looked at him in concern, before turning to give Depa their attention as she cleared her throat.

“In the original mandate for the Galactic Army of the Republic it does state that the Coruscant Guard will here on to be considered a separate entity run by the choice of the Chancellor…and no Jedi is listed as being in charge of them…”

“Easy way to answer our questions, there is. Commander Fox, we must ask.” Yoda smacked his gimmer stick on the floor and gestured to Stass Allie to change the holo of said commander to allow for communication.

Yoda cleared his throat and it was picked up by the unmuted mic because Commander Fox’s head snapped to the holorecorder with impressive accuracy.

Obi-wan made a noise of approval and all three Guard Commanders seemed to vibrate out of their skins.

“Greetings, Commander. Under better circumstances, I wish this was.”

Fox cocked his head to the side before spreading his lips to bare his teeth in the barest facsimile of a grin, highlighting a particularly gruesome scar that cut through his face, from top of the forehead through the right eye, over the cheek bone, and into the tight blacks.

There were some minor shuffles of discomfort from the council, but the sight seemed to make the Guard Commanders vibrate even more, somehow.

“What better circumstances could there be, High General Yoda?” His voice was a rasp and with every movement a flash of silver was seen between his lips.

“Assassinating the Chancellor, accused, you are.” Yoda quirked his own brow and frowned when Fox’s vicious grin only widened.

“Accused? Oh that’s not right at all, General. I am not a sentient being, I cannot be accused of anything. In fact, you could argue I could no more break the law than a particularly nice chair.”

Obi-wan choked on air while a few councilors shifted to hide their signs of distress.

“Commander, this is serious. You are accused of assassinating the Chancellor of the Republic, and with no Jedi to represent you in front of a tribunal, you are unlikely to get a fair hearing.” Mace spoke very clearly, despite the furrow of his brow and the sweat beading along it.

Commander Fox snorted.

“A few things I should mention, High General Windu. First, assassination would imply that it was premeditated or planed, this was nothing more than a killing of opportunity. Second, I am a clone, I do not have rights, I am not considered sentient, I was never going to get a fair hearing. And lastly…” the holo shook violently and an ear splitting screech emanated from the projector.  

The councilors flinched at the sound, but the three Guard Commanders started bouncing on the tips of their toes, looking for all intents and purposes like they were going to take off running at any moment.

Slowly the sound died down, the councilors all looking at the holo with wide eyes, as the shaking subsided to show a second being in the frame.

Tall, dark locs flowing down their back, Jedi-like robes frayed at the ends, lit lightsaber in one hand and the other outstretched to the still sitting Commander (smiling more softly at the new being with a light in their eye that suddenly made sense).

Fox took the hand gently, the Jedi(?) pulling him into their side with a smooth motion and kissing him soundly on the lips.

Obi-wan let out a strangled gurgle of noise, several GAR Commanders tensing as the being pulled away with a soft lick to Fox’s top lip before grinning up at the holorecorder.

“Quinlan Vos what have you done?” Plo Koon muttered under his breath, softly enough that the microphone couldn’t pick it up.

“I don’t plan to go in front of a tribunal at all.” Fox closed his eyes and sighed as Jedi Master Quinlan Vos bowed to the holorecorder before slicing through it with his lightsaber, flashing his warm brown eyes to the assembled Jedi with purpose.

Before the councilors could consider anything, the three Guard Commanders all took off at the same time, toggling the door open and closed behind them without time for anyone to relax.

“What the absolute kriff?” Commander Wolffe questioned, loudly, at the same time that every Commanders’ comms pinged with a system wide alert.

Commander Cody opened his to display to the entirety of the council.

It was holorecording of Commander Fox, his fellow Guard Commanders and several members of the Coruscant Guard standing behind him. At his side was Quinlan Vos.

“This is a notice to the GAR as well as to any holonews that might pick up the signal.” Fox paused, Quinlan wrapping an arm tightly around his waist and squeezing. Fox took a deep breath and continued. “As of now the Coruscant Guard is making the unanimous decision to leave the Republic.”

Several choked words echoed behind the announcement, with a loud groan coming from Mace as he slid from his chair and buried his face into Ponds’ shoulder when the Commander crashed to the floor to catch him.

“The Senate is corrupt, the Chancellor is corrupt, this whole damn system of government is corrupt, and we’ll no longer have anything to do with it.” Another deep breath. “You may see in the news that I assassinated the Chancellor as we are leaving. It’s not untrue, if it happens, but you may want to read through the data packet I released with this vid before condemning me to villainhood.”

Quinlan growled over the speakers and Commander Fox nudged him slightly with his shoulder before speaking again.

“When you read the data packet, you will know exactly why we did what we did. After this vid releases, you will never be able to find us, so don’t even try. We removed our slave chips and we’re going out into the galaxy to live our lives the way they were meant to be. I hope the citizens don’t suffer too much while the powerful use this opportunity to become more powerful.”

The entire Guard took a collective breath, Quinlan just as in sync as every vod on the holo.

“May fortune favor you.” They intoned before the holo blacked out.

The council room was silent for several beats before it was broken by Commander Bacara (of all clones).

“What did he mean by slave chips?”

[littlegreenteacup]

Valence | Chapter One

Summary: A surprise engagement, and awkward lunch, and far to much white wine.

Word Count: 2,799

Next Chater?

Warnings: Day drinking, arranged marriage, complicated family relationships, Walburga Black and her typical bullshit, If I've forgotten something don't hesitate to let me know

A/N: The first chapter is up! I hope you like it, and if you would like to be tagged when the next part is up let me know.

As the eldest daughter of an ancient pureblood family, (Y/N) Grey had an understanding, from a very young age, that she would be watched. Every move made, every stray comment – if such a thing even existed, every piece of clothing worn, would be observed, and then judged. From that judgment, an opinion would be formed. This opinion, once formed, could not, and would not, be easily changed, and this opinion, this opinion based on nearly nothing, would determine how not only how (Y/N)’s life would go, her siblings – her older brother’s, and later her younger sister’s - lives and reputations would, at least in part, be determined by her own actions.

It was this very opinion, in fact, that every young society witch’s reputation was based on. As far as anyone within the acceptable families in society were concerned, (Y/N) could have killed a man in cold blood in the middle of Diagon Ally during broad daylight, and she still would have been seen as a respectable young lady from the right sort of family with a good upbringing, so long as she was careful not step outside of her predetermined place in wizarding society - to marry, have children, and usher in the next generation of purebloods, all while ensuring her father’s, and later her husband’s, reputation remained perfectly intact.

In order to make absolutely certain that the family name ‘Grey’ remained in the good graces of the so-called Sacred 28 (and, as her grandmother had so often reminded her, might one day join the rest of the 28 on the pureblood registry), there were certain things that were expected of her. Certain behaviors and actions were highly encouraged - and others were actively discouraged.

In no way had such an upbringing prepared (Y/N) for her mother's announcement.

In fact, had she known such a thing would be the main point of discussion at the monthly luncheon with her mother, sister and sister-in-law, she likely would have come up with some doubtlessly brilliant reason for being quite unable to make it this time, and for them to please accept her apologies. Likely it would have been something to do with the paper, or perhaps her faucet had spontaneously developed a leak and the plumber was only available, unfortunately enough, at the very time of the four women’s tête-à-tête.

Instead, (Y/N) had taken the day as she always did. She'd had an appointment earlier, and had stopped in to one of her favorite boutiques after. She'd found a dress - a lovely wool one in cream, the skirt delicately pleated and fell gracefully to her ankles, while the bodice was tightly fitted perfectly accentuating her curves - and had gone home after, changing into that very dress before heading out to meet for lunch, her heels clacking purposefully against the pavement.

She'd handed her camel coat, wand tucked neatly into an interior pocket, to the kind older man at the coat check, offering him a gracious smile

"How has Lou been?" she politely inquired, "not still sick, I hope?"

"Oh," the man chuckled softly, carefully placing the coat in the closet behind him, "no, healer said she'll be right as rain in a day or two." he responded. (Y/N) opened her mouth to ask if she could do anything before being met by her sister, who literally slid into the room, arms flailing as she skidded to a stop.

Energetic thing that she was, Claire had barreled into the foyer, nearly crashing into her sister, pulling her into a crushing hug cheeks still flushed from the cold, hair damp from the misty rain that had only just began moments before.

"(Y/N)!" she had exclaimed, a little too loudly, laughing as she was shot several dirty looks from a group of older witches sitting near by.

The sisters had made their way into the dining room then, chatting amiably as they sat at their usual table. Anne had been waiting already, a glass of wine in one hand.

That should have been her first clue. Instead, lunch had continued as it normally did, and then Anne made her announcement.

--

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) choked on the glass of white wine she had been drinking, “I’m what?” Looking at her with something almost akin to sympathy, but not quite, Anne attempted to place a comforting hand over where her daughter was gripping the table's edge, wrinkling the tablecloth in the process. Claire, with equal amounts of shock and horror splayed across her face, perfectly matching her sister’s own internal feelings, sat silently in the seat next to her. Evidently, (Y/N) was not the only one hearing about this arrangement for the first time.

“You heard me, (Y/N)” Anne schooled her features, “You are engaged to be married.” The woman paused, sheepishly glancing at her hands folded neatly on the table in front of her and shuffling the silverware at her place setting. Without looking back at her daughter, she continued, voice softer this time, “You knew it would happen someday.”

‘Did I?’ thought (Y/N), ‘Did know that I would be placed in an arranged marriage someday? After nearly ten years of being left to do as I pleased?���

She said nothing.

Her sister-in-law, Serena, the first to regain her senses as usual, busied herself with shooing away the waitstaff, who were becoming more and more concerned with the fate of the crystal wine glass (Y/N) still held tightly enough to shatter in one hand.

Catching her breath, and finally having processed Anne’s words, (Y/N) muttered a single, quiet, monosyllabic question: “Why?”

The truth was, and everyone who grew up with the 28 knew this, there was no truly acceptable reason as to why. The why was tradition.

 It was a way to guarantee loyalty.

It was a way to keep women in their place.

 It was a way to continue the family name.

This arrangement was not because anyone cared for the opinions and happiness of those being forced to marry.

It was not because anyone cared if the men had an affair or beat their wives until even the most expertly applied charms and makeup could not hide the bruises.

It was tradition and familial duty and little else.

It was what was expected of women who cared enough to keep their families within the good graces of the 28.

It was the expectation that this would continue, with or without complaint, as the old guard saw fit.

And for (Y/N), she had failed at her one purpose in life – closing in on nearly thirty as a yet-to-be-married pureblood witch with any degree of social standing was a fatal sin in the eyes of the 28, eclipsed only by not having children once you were married, and even then only barely so.

It was nearly enough to start having questions asked by people who had no reason to start poking around in her life.

If she were being honest with herself, (Y/N) would have, should have, realized this was coming a hell of a lot sooner than she would have thought. Walburga Black had been pestering her about who she hoped to marry since childhood, and as she had gotten older the questions had become more pointed. Less curious and more probing. If she had to hazard a guess, Walburga likely had something to do with this, too. Given (Y/N)’s close relationship with Regulus, Walburga had often taken it upon herself to attempt to guide (Y/N) in areas she felt her own mother was unable to – it was a distraction from the loss of her older son, and her wish to have had a daughter of her own that had caused the older woman to take such a keen interest in (Y/N), an open secret no one dared to say aloud.

Her mother’s next words solidified that nagging fear at the back of her mind – the one that had been tormenting her in some way or other since she was fourteen, and Anne had sat her down to explain her socially pre-determined role.

“Walburga has always been fond of you,” Anne paused, grasping her glass and taking a healthy sip of the lightly gold tinted liquid inside, “she’s always found you charming,” The woman paused again. She only ever found it truly difficult to discuss something when Walburga Black was involved – apparently doubly so when it involved the impending marriage of her eldest daughter.

“And,” She paused again, unable to complete her sentence Anne finished the wine in her glass and nodded over to the waiter standing at the side of the room to refill it for what must have been the fourth or fifth time in only three hours.

That really should have been the first clue. Anne never drank so much so quickly - certainly not at a lunch that would last for hours, in public where anyone could see what was going on and could use it to feed the gossip hounds at The Prophet.

“Mother,” Claire interrupted, “I don’t see what this has to do with anything,” her furrowed brows spoke volumes. At seventeen, Claire had had the marriage conversation – both when (Y/N) had been given hers, something she would have been far too young to remember at the time, and when their mother had determined her to be old enough. However, as she was the younger daughter, and far more rebellious than her older sister, no special attention had been paid, and it was unlikely that there would be any need for an arranged marriage for her as she had long made it clear that any attempts at such would be met with her fiancé being left at the alter and her running off to live with their mother’s cousins in America, or their father’s sister in Brazil – the latter being a rather terrifying threat to their mother whose relationship with her sister-in-law ran the gambit from grudging respect and envy for having entirely disregarded her own pre-determined place in society to distaste at the other woman’s choice to pursue muggle archeology at a university in Brazil and to continue to do so once she and her wife had their first child; their father, however, had laughed and asked her to send home a box of Brigadiros when she got the chance and to offer his congratulations on the new baby.

She continued, “Everyone knows Walburga favors (Y/N). She’s Reg’s best friend, for fuck’s sake.”

Holding up one hand, Anne levelled a glare at her youngest so severe it could have made the devil turn tail and run. Claire huffed, crossed her arms, and scowled. She hated being scolded like a child in public.

“I know,” Anne responded, “it’s common enough knowledge, however,” she sipped her wine again. Joseph would have a field day when he was presented with the month’s bill. “What isn’t common knowledge is that she’s,” another pause, “been hoping for a match for her eldest.” Here she stopped, took another sip from her glass, draining it yet again.

As a waiter stepped forward to refill her glass Anne waved him off with a frustrated flick of her wrist. Serena, eager for the lunch to be over without the aid of the wine her fellow diners had, asked him to bring dessert.

Anne, no longer occupied by her glass, pulled out an embroidered silk handkerchief, “She’s hoping,” she coughed dryly and dabbed at her eyes with the corner of the handkerchief, “that you might be able to tame Sirius’s wild behavior.”

For maybe only the second time in her life, (Y/N) felt like she might lose her composure. She could have dealt with the inevitability of being engaged much better, had it been to just about anyone else. But no, (Y/N) Anne Grey was to be married to one Sirius Orion Black. His initials fit, if her memories from school were anything to go by. The son of a bitch and his equally dim-witted friends had made it their personal mission while she was in school to make the lives of every Slytherin whose schooling overlapped with theirs miserable. A fact which (Y/N), who was rather fond of maintaining relationships in the event they might later prove useful, found to be incredibly short-sighted and very stupid. Of course, she had been incredibly close with one Severus Snape, whose general disposition improved after he was introduced to a girl the year below him when she tutored him in Astronomy (Their wedding, shortly after graduation, had been a small but lovely affair, and Lilly Potter (née Evans) who was in attendance turned out to be a lovely woman despite being married to a complete idiot – something which she seemed to agree with when (Y/N) had mentioned it during dinner as the two women sat next to each other watching James and Remus on the floor.) Not to mention, (Y/N) had always been best friends with Sirius’s younger brother – had slept with his younger brother, on more than one occasion – and had loathed the man she was now set to marry from the moment she had realized exactly how truly malicious he could be when he chose to be. A trait he had doubtlessly picked up from his lovely mother.

What few interactions she’d had with the man, outside of finding herself covered in mysterious muck and goo after being caught in the crosshairs of some so-called prank meant for poor Severus, had been few and far between. Usually, they consisted of (Y/N) catching him staring at her and then rolling his eyes and walking off. No doubt to begin plotting his next bout of mischief.

“How, exactly, does she think I’d manage something like that?” the question half incredulous and entirely rhetorical on (Y/N)’s part. It didn’t matter how Walburga thought she would manage it, what mattered was that she thought (Y/N) was capable of doing so. She received an answer anyway.

“Walburga seems to think,” Serena began, receiving a raised eyebrow a tight-lipped half-smirk from (Y/N) when she began to speak, “that you are the model of a perfect pureblood bride,” Serena had the decency to blush at her next words, “and I don’t think Walburga much cares if you’ll actually be able to stop Sirius,” she paused and cleared her throat before continuing, “She probably just plans on having you be a sympathetic figure, and a way to have grandchildren she approves of.” There was another, unsaid part to the sentence, one that acknowledged that it wouldn’t be beyond belief for Walburga to arrange some sort of accident for her much-despised older son once (Y/N) had had at least one child, and even more likely if she had had two or was pregnant with a second. It would solve several of Walburga’s problems at once and was a plot (Y/N) wanted nothing to do with if such a thing turned out to be the case.

“You mean,” Claire began her tone filled with all the righteous indignation of a seventeen-year-old lion, “she plans on having my sister be the saving grace of a semi-disgraced family that no one even likes anymore?” (Y/N) could have hexed Claire for that. She probably would have too, if her wand hadn’t been left with her coat and handbag at the coat check – as per custom in the club the Grey family frequented.

“How old is Sirius, anyway,” (Y/N) asked, it seemed dangerous, or at least very much not welcome, to continue the previous conversation, “I know he’s older than Reg and Sev, he can’t be too happy about the idea of marrying his kid brother’s best friend,” (Y/N) paused for a second to take a bite from her lemon tart, “in fact, I don’t see why he would even agree in the first place.”

“He’s thirty-one,” Anne responded shortly, “And he didn’t agree, not really at least.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin, folded it neatly, and placed it back into her lap, “I don’t even think he was given a choice in the matter.”

(Y/N) let out a deep breath and reached for the rapidly cooling cup of tea one of the waiters had placed in front of her with her dessert some time ago.

At least she knew he would be as miserable as she was in this situation. Maybe even more so, given that he was being forced to marry a woman who, as far as he would be concerned, was the epitome of all of the things he hated most about being raised in an all-Slytherin family, not that Sirius would ever take the time to learn how wrong that assumption was.

(Y/N) might have even gone so far as to suggest Sirius would be far better matched with Claire if it weren’t for the nearly fifteen-year age difference and her sister’s rather happy relationship with a Hufflepuff boy only a year or two older with whom she shared many of her classes.