#PA School Interviews

[sexhaver]

okay so you know how living with autism means having frequent mind-blowing realizations about seemingly contradictory social norms that allistic people learned as children and consider obvious, like "you're probably not actually expected to show up exactly at the listed start time of a large house party" or "you're pretty much expected to lie in job interviews and also the questions the interviewers asks are looking for specific amswers"? ive got this half-baked theory based on observations on this site that there are two main ways for autistic people to resolve this

the first, most common way is to get mad about it, because none of it makes sense and nobody is saying what they actually mean. "if you invite me to show up at 5 im showing up at 5" mentality. i do sympathize with this school of thought, because it's objectively correct and i would love to see what society would look like if everyone said exactly what they meant, but the attitude wears on you after a few years and eventually becomes grating

the second way that i seem to have settled into is feeling relief, because, like, you already navigate through social scenarios the same way the guy in the Chinese Room thought experiment "speaks" Chinese: blindly consulting reference material you don't understand but know is correct. learning a new social faux pas is therefore just more reference material to consult. the fact that it doesn't make any sense is irrelevant because none of the other social norms you've been following make any sense either, and they've served you just fine. and crucially, because you have no personal attachment to any of these social norms, you can just abandon them whenever they become too inconvenient OR if it would be funny. this is the kind of autism that produces stuff like Nathan For You

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader // PART ONE.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! (+200 now) so here is the awaited fic, celebrating a milestone <3 based on this poll, dilf aemond won at the end haha 💞

MDNI

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, dubcon(?), oral (both f and m.), blowjob, cum eating, cum play(?), breeding kink, multiple orgasms, age gap (9ish years), DILF aemond, single father aemond, power imbalance(?), throat fucking, cunnilingus, lots and lots of kissing, + not proofread

WC: 7.1k (yeah...)

« part two // 🎄 special »

Getting fired from your job while trying to pay rent and gathering tuition fees isn't exactly ideal, you wanted to pursue a bachelor's degree after high school, but you didn't have enough money, coming from a family that was barely held by, nor were you eligible to apply for student because there were legal issues.

You moved out of your parents not wanting to financially burden them anymore, renting a decent apartment with just enough space for you to call it a 'home' you've been working for the past 2 years, a decent paying job but it was enough to get by and save up on the fees too, everything seemed to be going perfect until you suddenly got fired and your landlord decided to increase the rent.

You knew you'd have to cut into your savings to pay rent now, but you didn't want that, you halfway there to your goal, you were expected to get promoted and get higher pay, you calculated it, that it would only take one more year for you get enough amount to pay for the first few sems, and then maybe you'll be able to apply for a student loan by then.

But fate had different plans, and here you were on your couch scrolling through multiple apps to find any type of job, extremely desperate.

And that's when you saw it.

“Babysitter needed.” you thought how perfect of a job it would be considering the degree you wanted to so badly was based in psychology, child psychology specifically, and interacting with kids will probably give you some type of experience?

You quickly clicked on it and found the contact number, and decided to call it, you bit your lips nervously hoping they'd pick up.

“Hello?” you heard a cool voice say which sent shivers down your spine.

“Hello- yes uhm, Hi! I am calling because I saw the post on the app that said you needed a babysitter for hire?” you stumble over your words and mentally facepalm yourself for it.

“Yes, indeed. Are you interested in applying?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.

“Do you have any prior experience?” he asks and you reply with a quick yes, you've babysat a few kids throughout your highschool era for quick cash, as a way to not rely on your parents for menial things.

“Mhm alright, I don't want to bring your hopes up by saying you got a job, I'd like to have a personal interview first, if you do not mind.” he says and you say, thanking him and he hangs up the call.

You were fucking shaking.

It felt like applying for the first job of your life all again, the nervousness, the anxiety, the everything.

Aemond had saved your phone number and sent it to his assistant, Floris, asking her to run a background check on you, and to see if you had any criminal background, he read your name on the file that got delivered to him, sipping on his coffee while he scanned through your details.

You just turned 21, recently.

‘So young’ he thought, ‘Let me guess, she's probably looking for jobs in order to afford education.’ he guessed and he was exactly on the money with that one.

He wasn't that old himself, barely 30

He inherited his father's business at just age 23, being the only one capable of handling such pressure, his elder siblings couldn't stand a chance against him, and since then, he's maintained the Targaryen name perfectly.

He remembers falling in love with a woman older than him, he was 24, she attended one of the business parties he dreaded going to, Alys rivers was her name, they dated for 2 years before deciding to pace things up and get engaged since everything was going perfect for both of them.

Until Alys got pregnant, Aemond was overjoyed when he heard that news, but he didn't know that the child would suck the life out of her.

She died giving birth to their son, and he was devastated, being heart broken by her death, however he never once blamed his child, it was their choice to birth him, and it failed miserably.

But 3 years had passed since her death and he had moved on from her death, ready to love once again, yet it was extremely hard to find someone that wasn't after his money.

He knew he couldn't just live in the misery of heartbreak, and Alys would've wanted him to move on too.

His son, Aenys, recently turned 3 too, he inherited Aemond's purple eyes and silver blonde hair, typical targ features, but he saw how the softness of his nose, sharpness of his eyes resembled his mother.

But back to you at hand, he went through all your papers deeming you fit for the interview, he called a day later telling you the address where the interview would be held, his office.

Yes, his fucking office, as if you were applying for a job at his company, he justified it by saying that you were technically his employee.

When you got out of the taxi and looked at the company in front of you, it finally clicked in your brain that your employee was none other than Aemond Targaryen, and it only made your anxiety worse.

You went to the receptionist and told her your name, and she typed it in, giving you a small smile, telling you that you were exactly on time. She called his office to tell you that you were here and led you to his office. You looked around and noticed how big this company was, a bunch of employees working in their cubicles, typing away.

“Mr. Targaryen?” she called out and you heard a small ‘come in.’ Before stepping inside and pushing the door open for you to enter, you did and she stepped outside, closing it gently behind you, leaving you alone in the room with the man.

Aemond hadn't looked up from his files until the door closed, and when he did, he felt his breath caught in his throat.

“You may sit.” he says and you nod, sitting across him on the opposite side of the table, you felt so small under his gaze, it was so intimidating but you put up with it.

He began the interview by asking questions about yourself, and all relevant things, but there was one question that caught you off guard.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and you furrow your brows, “Excuse me?” you question, noticing how odd of a question it is.

“Don't get me wrong, the previous babysitter had one, and she used to bring him to the apartment and…” he cleared his throat and you immediately caught on to what he was implying, “Oh! No! I do not have one, and even if I did I would not do that!” you reassure him and he gives you a nod.

He was fucking lying.

But you didn't know that.

The previous babysitter was an old lady, who Aenys liked a lot, but sadly she had to leave the city.

“I hope you know that you're expected to work full time? I leave for the office at 9AM and return back at 7PM, and you'll need to be ready to work those long hours, and sometimes I might not even return till late at night if there is extra work.” he says and you nod, and before the question can leave your mouth he cuts you off.

“Do not worry, you'll be paid for those extra hours.” he confirms and you nod smiling at him.

And then came your terms, which he agreed to, he made you sign a one year contract, and you did it without hesitation.

Frankly the pay was so high you would barely need to work 6 months to reach the full amount, but you still did an extra 6 months considering how having extra money at hand doesn't hurt.

And with a handshake, he accepted you.

You were practically going to spend most of your awake time with the kid, it sounds hectic but the pay was too good to pass up on, I mean, $80 per hour? fuck yes, you'd be having around $230k by the end of the contract. Aemond was filthy rich.

It was finally your day to go to his house and you already knew it was going to be big, but you were still shocked when you arrived to the destination, it was a 20 minute drive from your house, and it was located in the richest neighbourhood to exist in the city, you felt embarrassed getting out of your taxi at an area where everyone probably had their own cars, heck, a collection of them even, but you paid the fare and the guard got up to question you, you told him and he quickly nodded before letting you inside.

It was early in the morning, you came quickly so Aemond could show you around the house and introduce you to his kid, you stood there nervously as you rang the doorbell, Aemond had checked through the security camera before the door opened, revealing the house interior.

You quickly stepped in and he closed the door behind you. You expected him to have maids and a bunch of staff, but you were surprised when you found none. No wonder he asked if you can cook, you'd probably be doing all the work here besides the cleaning.

“Aenys is in his playroom, let me take you there.” he says cooly and you follow him, taking in your surroundings.

He opens the door to the playroom and you immediately find a kid, who you assumed to be older than 2, playing with his dragon toys, making rawr sounds, and yelling the word ‘dracarys.’ you smiled at the cuteness.

Aemond cleared his throat which caught the attention of Aenys and he smiled brightly before he jumped in his arms, “Papa!” he yelled, before he turned his attention to you and looked at his father in question

“Hey aeny, do you know how the previous babysitter had to leave town?” he asks gently and Aenys nods, “And papa needs to be away for work top right? So I got you a new babysitter who will take care of you.” he points towards you, explaining and Aenys looks at you tilting his head slightly

“Hey, Aenys.” you give him a small, waving your hand, he shyly waves back before he hides his face his fathers chest, you chuckle at the cuteness.

“I'll go give her a house tour okay? And then I will visit you once again before I leave, have fun darling.” He says and puts his son down, and Aenys looks at you once again, inspecting you, observing you, you smile at him once again, and this time he gives you a shy smile.

Aemond leaves the room and you wave a quick temporary goodbye to Aenys and follow him.

“Aenys, doesn't have a mother, or at least he had to grow up without one” Aemond randomly begins and you look at him confused. “My fiancee-” he sighs before halting his footsteps, “She- she had died while giving birth to him.” you watch as he takes deep breaths, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, we have a lot of time anyway, just open up to me when you are ready, sir.” you tell him and he looks at you, giving you a nod and resumes the house tour.

It was fucking big.

Just like he said, he visited his son once more before leaving for work and the entire day you spent it with Aenys, getting to know him, observing his behaviour.

You noted that he was extremely shy at first but then he eventually warmed up to you, he still had his guard up of course since you were fairly new and a stranger in his life, you introduced yourself and he did the same.

He showed you all his toy collections, which you were genuinely fascinated by, he had so many dragon figurines and remembered each one by their name, his favourite was vhagar.

“It waass papa's once, when he was jus like mee.” he babbled cutely, the way he pronounced the words were so cute too, you swear you could die at it.

“Vhagar belonged to your papa?” you felt awkward saying the word papa, but you knew you had to considering that it was the term Aenys was used to, he nodded, smiling.

“Yesh! He gwave it to meh.” he says and you smile.

Aenys had quite a developed vocabulary for his age, though he pronunciation was a bit off, but you knew it would improve with time.

And just like that, you and Aenys grew close, he was always cheery to see you, you cooked and looked after him, feeding him vegetables in a way he would enjoy, and Aemond was surprised when he found out, considering Aenys refused to eat vegetables.

You put Aenys to sleep one day, singing him a lullaby and caressing his hair as he fell asleep in his bed, he watched you with big doe eyes, which were slowly beginning to get droopy as sleep overcame him. He closed his eyes and his brows were relaxed. You sat there for a while, watching him sleep, and you look at the time, 8PM, Aemond was running late, but you didn't mind, by the time he usually fell asleep, Aemond would've been there, listening to you sing to his son and when he finally fell asleep, you would leave, politely saying goodbye to Aemond, but this time you had stayed, since Aemond was late.

You noticed how Aenys eyebrows furrowed before you saw tears coat his eyelashes

“Mam… mama… I want mama...” he mumbled in his sleep and you swear you felt your heart wrench at that, then you heard small sniffles.

He was crying in his sleep.

Is this what usually happens after you leave? You felt extremely sad, you remember how Aemond had told you that Aenys grew up without a mother, how she had died during childbirth. You never really thought about it much but you realised how tough it must've been for Aenys, then suddenly you remembered all the times you played together or watched cartoons, how he would say the word "mother" longingly when he was referring to a mom dragon, or how he stared in a daze when a cartoon showed a mom taking care of his child.

He was beginning to notice an absence of a parental figure in his life.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sniffling getting louder, and Aenys was beginning to borderline cry out, you quickly picked him up and carried him, pacing around the room gently as you patted his back, his hand clung tightly onto the sleeve of your arm and he rested his cheek on your shoulder.

“Shhh, Aenys, it's okay.” you try consoling him but he kept repeating the words 'I want mama, mama.' in his sleep over and over again.

Not knowing what to do, you began to feel bad, so you did what you thought was the best.

“Aenys, Mama is here, it's okay hush now..” you coo gently into his ear and that's when he finally stops sniffling, 'mama?' he mumbles and you hum, “Yes, it's mama, do not cry anymore okay? Mama is here.” you caress his hair and he finally relaxes, you were so entranced in comforting him that your brain managed to ignore the presence of Aemond himself, who had arrived when you picked him up and paced around in a panic, he was going to interfere but then he heard you say those words.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him, heat climbing up your face as you realised he probably heard everything and also you were stricken with fear too cause you likely overstepped.

You gently placed Aenys down on the bed and got out of his room, anxiety coursing through your veins as you realised what you had done

But you were only trying to comfort him.

Aemond soon followed you out the room as well and you turned around to face him when he closed the door.

“I apologize— I'm so sorry—” you began.

“Don't. It's fine, I can understand why you did that.” he cuts you off, and you wince.

“He- he's been noticing.” you began and Aemond nodded, “I've noticed too.” he replies and sighs.

“Aenys has changed a lot since you've started babysitting him in a good way , and I've noticed it, he's becoming more and more aware of the world around him.” He moves to the living room, sitting on the couch and you do the same, sitting on the one opposite to him.

“I've made sure that he never felt a lack of anything in his life, but I guess it's only natural for a person to desire something he can't have.” he says.

“Aenys can have a mother, if you remarry, that void will be fulfilled somewhat.” you suggest and he looks at before chuckling “I've thought of that too, my mother said the same thing, but i cannot trust anyone, especially considering how many are after my money, who knows if they'll be kind to him, or whether Aenys will like them or not.” he sighs.

“That is true.” you agree with him and he looks at you.

“Unless… ” he begins, eye scanning your entire being and you look at him, your heartbeat quickening, just as he was about to say something, your phone rings and it cuts off the trance-like state you were in, and you look at it to see who it is.

It was a spam call.

But then your eyes bulge out of your sockets when you look at the time, “Holy shit it's late, I'm sorry sir but i have to leave now, or else it will be too dangerous.” you say and quickly apologise and he nods, dismissing you. That was the first night, sleep came to Aenys peacefully.

But it didn't to Aemond, he was lost in thought about everything, but then his mind wandered off to somewhere it shouldn't go.

The way you comforted Aenys stirred something inside you, the moment was perfect, you cooing in Aenys' ear that you were here, pretending to be his mother.

It was so perfect.

Almost as if you were made for that.

Aemond felt his heart flutter.

For the first time in years.

He couldn't help but accept the pull he felt towards you.

Aenys doesn't seem to remember the incident, probably cause he was literally just sleep talking so it was left at that, but you and Aemond however grew a bit close after that incident, he came back home early as he can, so he could spend time with his son and you, he was subconsciously trying to get his son used to both of them being around, both present in his life as parental figures.

You obviously weren't able to leave early just because he got home early because those were your mandatory hours, so it became your new normal to spend time with him and Aenys.

You couldn't deny that there was something definitely blooming in between you and Aemond, he would often throw appreciative comments in your way, which made your belly pool up with heat.

You noticed how he wanted to stay by your side, physical touch lingering, he had suggested that you 3 should go grocery shopping, and you found it odd considering he could literally order his clients to fetch them for him, but you agreed anyways, using it as a chance to get outside and let Aenys interact with other people. Aemond was heavily against sending him to the daycare, because he was scared for his son, it was understandable but it also set Aenys behind a bit.

“Mama, I want this!” you hear a kid yell at his mom and you watch as she refuses it gently, telling him no and that she will buy him the next time they come back here, and the kid just pouted, you chuckled at the sight.

You turned your attention to Aenys who was staring at the scene too, and you realised how he was in a daze once again as well, you looked at Aemond who also seemed to notice.

Aenys quickly ran in another direction and you panicked and almost ran after him before he was back in front of you again, grabbing the same toy the other child had grabbed earlier and showing it to you. “Ma-” he cut himself short before pushing the toy to show you “I want this!” he says and Aemond was confused at first and he was about to agree to buy that toy for Aenys until you butted in, “No Aenys, we can't buy it right now! We'll buy it next time when we come back here okay?” you say and he smiles sheepishly at you, before pretending to pout and put the toy back in a random shelf.

You chuckled at the childishness, he just wanted to feel the same type of experience that others do. Aemond knew it was just you both playing around, he didn't miss the way Aenys almost called you his mother, and it spurred him on further, the way you acted as a genuine mother.

Those type of random moments became often, and it pushed Aemond further and further to the edge, the way you would act like such a perfect mom made him want to bend you over any surface and fuck you, filling you up with his cum.

Aemond then suddenly started joining for lunch, he would usually eat at his office, but he made extra effort to drive home so he could eat with his 'family.' He loved your cooking, you made it taste like home, he would watch as you cut smaller pieces of fruits and vegetables for Aenys so he could properly chew and eat. He imagined how perfect you would be as his wife and like an official mother to his child, or better, children, all of these small things were pushing him to the edge

And soon it would push him off it.

Aemond cursed himself when he drove through the rain, already running late, he looked at his watch and read the time, it was 10PM, the meeting in the afternoon stretched over two hours long which set back the rest of his schedule by a lot, he quickly parked his hair before making his way inside his house, open the door with the extra key carried before shutting it close.

“Look Aenys! Dada's here.” he heard you say and he was immediately spun around, he didn't expect you to stick around this long, but then he realised it was raining heavily and you always went by taxi, there probably would've been no taxi available in this weather.

“Aenys didn't go to sleep yet?” he asks, undoing the suit he was wearing before throwing it on the couch, approaching both of you, taking Aenys into his arms.

“He wanted to wait until you got home, he was worried for you, though he seems tired hmm.” you pinch his nose playfully and he scrunches it up, “I'm not twired…” he says but then yawns earning a chuckle from both you and Aemond.

“I'll put him to sleep, you go freshen up.” you say and Aemond nods, giving him back to you.

Fuck everything about that interaction felt too domestic.

And Aemond had lost his resolve.

He found you sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, he sat down next to you.

“What are you doing?” he asks and you look at him, “Trying to book cabs, but there are none available at the moment due to the weather.” you sigh before placing your phone down.

Aemond should've offered to drive you home but instead he offered to let you stay.

“You know you can stay over, I do not mind it.” he says and you look at him “Really? I don't wanna be a bother—”

“Oh please, you are never a bother.” he cuts you off and smiles at you. “You should freshen up for the night, you've been here since morning.” he says but you pout. “I do not have any clothes.” you say and he simply shrugs, “You can wear mine.” he pushes the buttons, wondering how far he can get away with it, he knew offering you to let you stay at his house already broke the employee boss relationship, hell, the moment he desired you was when it already broke.

“Mhm okay! Where is the guest bathroom?” you ask and he shakes his head, “The water heater is broken in that one, it's better if you use the attached bathroom in my room.” he says.

The water heater wasn't broken.

He was lying.

And you believed him.

He watched as you got up and made your way to his room, which was right next to Aenys', considering he has to react if something happens to him, he followed you inside opening the cupboards and giving you his hoodie and fresh pair of boxers which you thanked him for.

He left the room to give you privacy, but oh gods his mind was racing with all the thoughts.

He paced around, trying to contain himself, and he stood there in front of the door.

And then you opened it.

His hoodie reached to your thighs, and you looked at him, shocked to find him in front of the door, lips parted.

He snapped.

He quickly pushed you inside and shut the door behind you, slamming his lips against yours, and kissed you fervent hunger, you stumbled back and you almost fell but he caught you by your waist and pushed deeper into the kiss, moving his lips hungrily against your.

He pulls away, silently giving you a way out if you need it.

You should refuse this.

You should push him away.

But you don't, instead you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deeper kiss, he groans when he feels you kiss him back, he pulls away once again, before grabbing you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed, making you fall on your back, your hoodie rising up, revealing your stomach, which he kissed lovingly before he pulled the hoodie even more further up, exposing your tits and pressing kisses to the nipples, causing you to gasp.

He pulls the hoodie off of you completely, and you raise your hands to assist him, he pulls off his shirt too, exposing his naked chest, and you bite your lip at the view, next he takes the boxes off you, doing the same, leaving you both completely bare to the room.

He pushes you upwards to the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your face, neck, collar bones and valley between your breasts, his hands grab the flesh of your tits before he kneads them, massaging them, thumbs flicking the nipples making you arch your back.

One of his hands trails down to your core, dipping into the heat, he outright moans when he finds you practically leaking, collecting the arousal and bringing it upwards your bud. Rubbing small circles which makes you gasp.

He pulls his hand away and brings it up to lick at the wetness that has accumulated on the fingers, humming in satisfaction before he pressed kisses which travelled downwards until his mouth stopped right at your core, giving a small kiss to it to, you shivered when you felt his hot breath against it, the way the air he exhaled would hit your clit. He kissed the inner part of your thighs first, making you needy with want, wishing he'd just take you into his mouth.

And then he does, his tongue strides upwards from your opening to your clit, giving you one long lick before he captures your clit with his mouth, suckling on it, causing you moan his name loudly, both of his hands wrap around your thighs and he pulls them further apart, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hungrily devours your cunt, tongue flicking the bud constantly, you grip his hair and buck your hips, practically rutting against his face, you felt his tongue travelling down and lick at the wetness, the tip of his nose pushing against your clit, you felt your core tighten as the movement of his tongue sped up, causing you to topple over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you whine loudly.

He greedily licked everything up before he placed wet kisses on your thighs, the residue of your wetness sticking to them before he sat back on his knees between your parted legs, you watched as he got up slightly, making his cock come into view.

Your eyes widened slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by Aemond, this stroked his ego very much.

He was big, bigger than any you've seen before, it was pale with a tip that was flushed pink due to the blood pumping, oozing precum out of it, he pumped his cock in his hand to ease the area, coating his dick in his own precum before he positioned it against your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation but then you felt him slide against your folds, covering his dick in your wetness as well before slapping your clit with the tip of his dick, making you whimper.

He then lined himself against your entrance and pushed in, and you arched your back at the stretch, it was so delicious, you felt so full.

He leaned on top of you and gave you a passionate kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you taste the tanginess, he supported his weight on his elbows which were on either side of you, gripping yours, fingers intertwined with yours. You were locked in a missionary position, a position that felt intimate.

Then you felt him move, thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, causing you to moan his name, the thrusts made you jolt up the bed, breasts bouncing due to the force emitted from it, his grip tightening as he grunted on top of you, rutting into your wet heat, his hair dropped his shoulders, cascading around his face, and you gasped at how godly his looked like this.

Then you felt his tip hit your gspot, constantly, which caused you moan extremely loudly, “Fuckk! Ahh~ Aemond!” you mewled, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, his hand left one of yours to cover your mouth as he continuously slammed into you.

“Shh, be quiet, or he'll wake up.” he whispers, referring to Aenys who was sleeping in the next room and you nodded, you felt him pull his hand away but his thumb traced your lips, you opened your mouth which made him put his thumb inside and you sucked on him, and you felt him groan, then he pulled it out, hand going back to grip yours, and you bit your lip to hold back your moans from slipping out.

You felt your core begin to tighten again and it snapped once more, causing you to arch you back, pushing your breasts against his chest and he muttered 'fuck' feeling the way you clenched around him.

His thrusts begin to grow sloppy and lose their rhythm, indicating that he was close, “Fuckk, I'm gonna cum inside you.” he says and you whine, “I'm going to get you pregnant, watch you grow round with my kid…” he growls, thrusting into you again and again, “You're going to give Aenys little siblings, You will, right? He looked so lonely, I think he'd appreciate that.” he grunts and you nod quickly, mind too hazy to even comprehend or acknowledge the complications behind you agreeing to this.

“Good girl.” he says before he finishes inside you, and paints your walls white, shooting up his seed far into you, riding his orgasm out.

You felt him pull out and thought that was the end until he pushed you over onto your back, and sat on his knees, he grabbed your waist and pulled it up, and you immediately switched to supporting your on your knees as you arched your back, stretching like a cat, your hands on the side of you.

He groaned when he watched his cum drip down your thighs before he scooped it up and put it in his mouth, tasting your combined essence.

He was still hard.

So he wasted no time, shoving himself back inside you and you whined at the way your walls felt overstimulated, not knowing if you can handle one more orgasm consistently.

He sheathed himself inside your walls, and moved with fervent speed like before, his balls slapping against your thighs, the room was filled with erotic noises, he gripped your waist for support, until his hand travelled slightly upwards, catching one of your tits before gripping it tightly, and rolling the nipple in between his fingers.

“I can't wait to watch them swell.” he grunts.

“You'd look so pretty with my child in your belly, the way your tummy will swell? Gods fuck, that is a vision.” he moans

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you are meant to.” he notes, thrusting in and out, watching as the previous cum leaks out.

He clicks his tongue

“So much is going to waste, tsk, it's okay I'll fill you up again, make sure you get pregnant.” he groans and you moan, “Ye-yes fill me up.” you say, and he smirks at that, “Good girl, taking my cock like one.” he leans against you, your back pressing to his chest as he leaves kisses on the back of your neck, and you once again, topple over the edge for the third time.

He finishes too, inside you again.

You both fall besides each other on the bed, and realise the weight of the situation after the adrenaline and excitement of the moment fades away and the breathing becomes more stable.

“I- fuck.” Aemond begins not knowing what to say and you lay there quietly.

“Listen, ever since that day you walked in, I felt some type of pull towards you, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if we were meant to me, and I couldn't ignore the feelings brewing inside me.” you watch as he speaks.

“I- to put it in simple words, I fell in love with you. I really did, though it's fine if you do not share the same feelings, we can go back to pretending this never happened.” he confesses.

“I am in love with you too.” you confess, “I pushed these feelings away, because it wasn't appropriate.” you say and he looks at you this time.

Silence falls between you two.

A comfortable silence.

He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, hugging you, and you hug him back, the he places loving kisses atop you.

You felt something hard pressing against your inner thighs and you looked down, shocked to find him hard again, you chuckle.

“Again?” you tease and he playfully glares at you, “Yeah, you're so fucking irresistible.” he kisses your neck, hips mindlessly grinding against you. “I'm so sensitive.” you pout, but you get an idea, you quickly push him onto his back before getting on top of him, and then crawling down in between his legs, before taking his cock in your hand.

“Fuck!” he moans when he feels your warm hand wrap around it, before you gently tug on it, pumping your hand up and down, watching as the precum leaks out, you collect some with your tongue, poking the slight hole making him groan and grip the side of your head.

You trail kisses down to his balls, before giving them wet kisses as your hand pumps his cock, you lick a long stride up his length before taking him in your mouth, as best as you can, hands resting on his thighs to balance yourself.

You bob your head up and down, swirling the the tongue around him, pulling away time to time to breath before descending onto him once again, the grip on the side of your head tightened and you watched as he sat up slightly leaning on his elbow, before his hips thrusted upwards, and so you let him take control.

He collected your hair into a makeshift pony before gripping the back of your head tightly and thrusting his entire length into your mouth, the tip teaching the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, causing tears to well up in your eyes, you closed them and tried to breathe through your nose as he thrusted upwards and fast, essentially fucking your throat.

You felt him twitch slightly in your mouth, knowing he was close, you sucked him and hollowed your cheeks, he threw his head back at that, he felt steady pleasure rising within him before such a force expelled from his body, causing him to peak, shooting out ropes and ropes after cum into your mouth, you felt it hit the back of your throat, causing you to swallow unknowingly, before he slightly pulled out, cause the remaining to fall in your mouth.

He pulled out completely and watched your face, flushed and hair dishevelled, you held his cum in your mouth, waiting for his command, “Swallow.” and you did, obeying him, opening your mouth to show that there was none left, he groaned as he watched the remnants of his seed drip from the side of your mouth before he collected it with his index finger and shoved it back into your mouth, and you click his finger clean, he grunted before you upwards and kissing you, tasting himself in your mouth, hands squeezing your ass before he gave one of them light slaps, causing you to wince.

You pulled away and breathed heavily, he smiled down at you, before he left the bed to clean both of you up, collecting the clothes and getting dressed before he pulled beside him in the bed, going to sleep while hugging your form.

You dreaded the next morning, wondering how you'll explain your relationship to Aenys, you woke up to an empty bed, you read the time, it's was just 8AM, you felt sad but then you quickly got up and went outside finding Aemond and Aenys awake, sitting at the table conversing, your heart warmed at the sight, Aenys spotted you and ran over to you, lifting his arms up, asking you to silently to carry him, and you did, you picked him up before placing a small kiss to his forehead.

“Mama!” he said and you froze, before you looked at Aemond, who gave you a small smile and nodded and your eyes softened at it, it seems he had done the explaining.

“Mama! Mama!” Aenys grabbed your face making you look at him and you chuckled, “Yes Aenys, it's mama.” you say and he smiles brightly.

“I'll go get ready for work.” Aemond says, getting up from the spot he was sitting on and coming over to both of you before he pressed a kiss to Aenys forehead, and doing the same to you and going inside his room and getting ready.

You put Aenys down on his chair and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, you made simple eggs on toast, and just on the time, Aemond came out of his room, looking all ready and you placed three plates down, along with fruits cut into small pieces of Aenys.

“I made breakfast.” you say and Aemond smiles at you, before sitting down and the three of you ate breakfast.

Applying for this job was the best thing you've ever done.

Who knew your life would change the course of it in the span of just a few months.

There were other things to discuss, and you knew it was plaguing Aemond's mind as well, but you both decided it will be best if discussed later and so you both basked in this moment, listening to Aenys babbles.

“So i hwave a mom now rightt?” he asks Aemond who nods, “Are you happy?” he asks and Aenys nods quickly, “Yesh! Aenys is wery hwappy! But…” he trails off and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“I want a sibling too…” he murmurs

Oh gods.

Your eyes flickered over to Aemond who stared at you, you blush and look away as you remembered the details of last night.

“I wwant a swister… ! or a bwother!!! Hmm any is fine…” he babbles on, not knowing what he is asking for.

You look at Aemond again, who didn't seem to take his eye off you at all.

He smirks.

Oh fuck.

You quickly get up and collect the empty plates before going behind the kitchen counter and placing them in the sink, washing your hands, focusing your attention on them, until you felt arms wrapped around your waist before one trailed upwards towards your breast giving it squeeze, you quickly looked up to see Aenys was watching until you realised he was nowhere to be seen.

“He's in his playroom.” Aemond whispered in your ear, grinding slowly against your ass.

“Heard that? He wants a sibling so badly, surely you can't deny him right?” he asks, pinching your nipples through the fabric causing you to gasp.

He places kisses down your neck, before he spins you around and kisses you on the mouth, making you wrap your arms around his shoulder. He pulls away before kissing you on the cheek.

His phone rings and he notices the time, 9:15AM, he was running late which was the first for him, and it was his assistant calling him.

“Fuck, mood spoiler.” he grunts before shoving his phone back in his pocket before placing a kiss to your mouth once again.

“Don't think I'm done with you yet, it's gonna be one hell of a ride when I get back home.” he presses one final kiss to your neck before pulling himself away from you, granted it was so fucking difficult considering how he wanted to fuck you on the kitchen counter just moments ago.

You nod and follow him to the front door.

“Have a nice day, Aemond.” you say, and he smiles at you, coming to kiss you but then Aenys comes running towards you both.

“Is dada going to work?? BYE DADAAA” he screams and Aemond chuckles, before waving a small 'bye' to Aenys, and leaving from the front door.

He barely left and he already couldn't wait to get back home from work.

And you gulped, nervous in anticipation.

Oh seven hells.

———

[queenimmadolla]

hey vivi!! big fan of you🩷 since you’re doing drabbles, do you think you can write about penny going on her first date ? i can only imagine what eddie would be like lol. love you ❤️

𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 ��𝐨𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 (don't have to read but you'll want to) (𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

“I’m sorry???” Eddie croaked out over the phone, and your teeth dug into your lip to fight a smile off.

  “It’s innocent, Eds. They’re just seeing a movie together,” You mused and briefly placed the phone against your chest to listen for any cries throughout the house. Quiet. The baby was still asleep, thank god. You’d already raised two kids out of their baby phase of life, but this one was giving you and your husband a run for your money. Colic and Eddie’s genetics (dramatics) made for one hell of a Velcro Baby. Maple always had to be attached to one of her parents, or she was crying bloody murder and since Eddie was away for the next two days, it was you she needed to be on. You’d managed to sneak her successfully into her crib when she fell asleep—usually her big brown eyes flew open the second you bent over to lower her in since you were only ever allowed to be standing when holding Maple, per her demands��just before Eddie called (and you’d dove to stop that phone from ringing). He wasn’t impressed with your plans for the rest of the day, “I’ll be in the row behind her, with a baby hidden under my shirt and attached to my nipple, and Wayne if he doesn’t want to hang out with big Wayne. Don’t be dramatic.”

  Eddie scoffed so you rolled your eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.” Your back straightened from your lean on the counter, eyes scanning the living room for the camera he had to have hidden as he kept talking, “What are you gonna do when this punk puts the moves on my baby girl, huh?”

  “They’re ten years-old, Eddie. They’re gonna be sweating in their seats, I hardly doubt they’ll even hold hands.” 

  Eddie still didn’t like that. Really, there was no reason for Penny and whatever this kid’s name was to even be going to the movies. He’s sure the punk had a TV at home, and Penny had access to one, so they could just watch something separately in different homes, as in not together, and talk about it at school. Or not talk about it all. Not talk to each other at all. Yeah, Eddie liked that.

  “Tell her she can’t go.” He demanded, shooting a glare at the PA staring at him, eagerly waiting for him to get off the phone so he could usher him to his next interview. The hostility in his gaze was enough to make that very PA poof, disappeared into thin air.

  “I’m not telling her that.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it. Put her on the phone.” You didn’t bother hiding your smile anymore, grinning at his antics. He was such a dad and you loved it. Especially because you knew—what with him currently in New York—Penny would be at the movies with her little crush (and you, possibly your son, and your baby) whether Eddie liked it or not.

  You called for Penny down the hallway and you could hear her galloping down after your voice.

  “What?” She squawked out once she came to a halt at your side and like every other time she voiced that word in her flat tone with a hint of annoyance sprinkled in, you were reminded of the times your mother would reprimand you for being just as irritating.

  You lulled your wrist forward, tipping the phone to her as you raised a challenging brow, “Your dad wants to talk to you.”

  She quickly took the phone, holding it against the side of her head, hand pushing her hair out of her face before scratching her chin “Hi, daddy.”

  “Hi, sweet pea.” You could hear him croon and you shook your head in amusement. He was so fake. “What’cha up to today?”

  ”Nothing. OOH, Uncle Lucas patched my bike for me!” She recalled, thinking back to when the Uncle in question had followed through on his promise to repair her flat bicycle wheel before catching his flight back to Chicago in time for his practice. Penny would be watching his basketball game on TV tonight, after the movie. She cheered as loud as she could for him, but sometimes she cheered for his other teammate, Michael Jordan, too. All the time. She cheered for Michael all the time.

  “Of course he did, just had to steal my thunder. Mom says you’re gonna watch his game tonight.”

  “Yeah, here at home since you can’t take us. . .”

  “I said I’m sorry! I’ll take you to the Finals.”

  “If they win.” Penny mumbled and they both went silent before bursting out laughing. The Bulls wouldn’t be losing tonight.

  “Is that all you’re doing?” He asked, voice honey and sugar once he’d stopped laughing.

  “Pretty sure.”

  “Pretty sure? As in, not entirely positive?” Eddie’s voice broke as it went high and he cleared his throat, “Nothing you’re intentionally leaving out?”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “What about your LITTLE DATE?! Penny, you’re too young, baby. What have we been talking about for years now, huh? Thought we agreed you’d wait until a couple of years into a marriage before you could start dating. You pinky swore. Wouldn’t you rather me go? You know how Maple is—do you want a baby crying in the background when you recall your first date for the rest of your life? And really, your mom is gonna be chaperoning, don't you wanna wait until I get back? What if this kid is one of those punks that tease you about your mom being hot? Wouldn’t you much rather have your cool, rockstar dad, instead of your hot mom, sitting menacingly—I mean—hold on don’t hang up, I meant ‘measuredly’—”

  Penny’s eyes flashed over to you in a ‘can you believe this?’ manner as you heard your husband blabber on like some grown up in Peanut’ s Special and she rolled her eyes. Eddie must have mumbled something else because you saw her stand up straight and glance around the house with a pout before she mumbled back into the receiver, “I didn’t roll my eyes. . .”

divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡

[strangersteddierthings]

The Interview

Inspired by this post by @xoxoladyaz. Read on Ao3.

-

Eddie wakes up to one single missed call from Gareth on his private phone.

No one calls his private phone.

He dials back instantly.

"Hey Eddie," Gareth greets. He sounds tired.

"What's up? What's happened?" Eddie asks, a thousand and one scenarios running through his mind. Gareth is in Indianapolis, and Eddie's thoughts are filled with only his uncle back in Hawkins.

"Nothing's happened that we can't deal with, or rather, that I've already been dealing with. But, uhh, there's an interview you should watch. Let me send you a link-" there's a pause as Gareth does just that "-and just call me back after you've watched it. I know we usually ignore the shit people say about us but this- it's different."

"Okayyyy," Eddie says slowly. "I'll watch it."

They hang up without goodbye because Eddie's just going to call him back after the video. Opening his messages he sees the link, and then Gareth sent a follow up text you need to watch from 12:32 onward.

The video is nearly two weeks old already, and YouTube shows him a face he knows. Robin Buckley looks older but it's definitely her. Her hair isn't styled much differently than she had it in high school, just above her shoulders and a little wild. She's wearing a three piece suit in emerald green, slightly oversized on purpose by the look of it. She's sitting in a chair, cradling a grammy with one arm, as the interviewer sits across from her.

Eddie taps the screen and drags the progress bar closer to the 12-minute mark and listens. He hears the tail end of Robin's response to some question about her album before the interviewer asks what must be the question Gareth wants him to listen to.

'So, I think everyone is dying to know if you and Eddie Munson are friends. You're both from Hawkins, Indiana. Isn't that correct?' the interviewer asks.

Robin's smile slips a bit, 'I- uhh, this is going to be unprofessional of me but I made a promise to someone regarding if I was ever asked about Eddie Munson. So, can I have one minute to make a phone call before I answer your question?'

'Oh. By all means, make your call.'

Eddie watches as Robin is brought her phone by someone who is probably her personal assistant. She wastes no time in unlocking it and finding whoever in her contacts list.

'No time for formalities. I've been asked about Munson. Can I tell the truth?' Robin's mic isn't strong enough to pick up whatever answer she gets on the phone but she shakes her head to whatever answer she's been given. 'I told you, I love you more than this career and I've already got the grammy. I'll handle the fallout. It's not about me. It's about you.' What follows is a few seconds of silence before Robin nods and says goodbye, ending the call and passing the phone back to the PA.

The interviewer's eyebrows are up to her hairline in shock. 'That sounds ominous. You think it's career ending?'

Robin grins and it's almost feral. 'Corroded Coffin's fans have always been ruthless, and perhaps a bit heartless, so what I have to say will certainly set them on the attack. To answer your original question, yes, Eddie Munson and I are from Hawkins. We even shared band class in high school, but that's the end of what connects us. We are not friends, but we once were.'

'Can you elaborate on that?'

'Our friendship ended ten years ago when he ruined my best friend's life for fame and fortune, and Steve's never really known a day of peace since.'

Eyes wide, the interviewer leans closer, 'Steve? As in, Hey Steve, Steve?'

Robin nods, 'Just the one.'

'Are you prepared to talk about how one song ruined your friend's life?'

'That was the purpose of the phone call. Yes, I think people should know the truth. Munson vented his bullshit breakup rage into a song and fucked off out of town. A week after its release, his fans doxxed Steve. He wasn't out to his parents, you see, and Corroded Coffin's fans, Eddie Munson's fans, outed him. They sent hate mail to his house by the ton, it seemed. The fallout from that- the aftermath-' Robin cuts off as her eyes water and she swipes at them, smearing some mascara across her cheek. 'I'm sorry. I almost lost my best friend, the platonic love of my life, that day.

'It's public knowledge, what happened, you can look it up online if you know what to look for. But it is also so incredibly personal. I want to be the one to say this because it's important. What you do in life, it has consequences, and sometimes those consequences are for other people. Whether you think it will, or not. I'd rather people hear it from a human voice, from someone who loves Steve, and not the journalist view. No offense,' Robin shoots the interviewer a sweet smile.

'None taken, please continue.'

'Steve was hospitalized, I won't give the details,' Robin says, in a watery voice as she's clearly trying to not cry at the memory. 'When Steve was finally released from the hospital, there was no one but me to pick him up. And he's going through this while nursing a broken heart. He and Munson had only been broken up for maybe a month before Hey Steve came out.

'In less than two months, Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. And to top it off, that man gets to become rich and famous off a venomous, hate-filled song about their breakup. It talks about Steve like he's coward for not willing to be out, yet, and how... what's the line, about conformity?'

'Conformity holds your leash, baby, so run to the end of your chain and bark,' someone off camera shouts.

'Yes, that, thanks. Accusing Steve of picking 'conformity' over his love. Steve wasn't picking conformity, he was picking safety! And the worst part? The hate mail has never stopped. Steve lived with me and my family for a few months after getting out of the hospital before the hate mail got too much, and someone showed up at my childhood home, looking for him, threatening him. They had a gun. It was traumatic. I was still in my senior year of high school-' Robin cuts off, taking deep breaths.

The interviewer reaches across to place a comforting hand on Robin's, 'I can't even imagine what that must have been like.'

Once Robin has composed herself, she says, 'sorry, this is a lot. I've had ten years to come to terms with it, and I've waited seven for someone to ask me about Munson. I didn't think it would be this hard.

'And it's not- I can't blame Munson, or Corroded Coffin, for everything that happened. He doesn't control his fans. But he's never said anything about the treatment his fans give Steve. And if they're like this towards Steve, are they like this towards all his other ex's? Does Munson not care, or, almost worse, does he not even know?' she stops again, getting a faraway look for a moment before looking at the interviewer again. 'I had to help Steve move again. Just last month. They're still finding him. Sending him hate. Doxxing him.' Now she looks at the camera directly, "Eddie Munson. Call off your fans. Stop playing Hey Steve at concerts. Isn't a decade of hurt enough?'

There isn't a lot that makes Eddie feel anything these days, he'll admit. A decade of fame has made him a bit cynical and callus. However, Robin had said something that made his insides squirm. He swipes across the screen, rewinding the video to hear Robin say Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. -ents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. The man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. Marry one day.

He pauses the video. That can't be right. That has to be a lie Robin is adding. To garner more sympathy or make Eddie, and therefore Corroded Coffin, look worse. Steve and he had been young and naive when they'd dated. There was no way they'd have ended up married, even if Eddie had stuck around Hawkins longer. Gay marriage wasn't even legal when they broke up in 2013.

Eddie unpauses, skips forward to the end and listens to Robin speak directly to him. Stop playing Hey Steve? The song that rocketed Corroded Coffin into the limelight? No way. And call off his fans? Like they're dogs he's supposed to control or something. The video ends and the YouTube algorithm shows him a number of react videos. Eddie clicks on one and falls down the rabbit hole.

At first the algorithm shows him responses in his favor. Videos made by his fans defending him, or strategically picking apart what Robin had said. Eddie wants to agree with them, he doesn't think he's done anything wrong other than live his life, but then.

Then a video of a guy wearing merch sold during their tour last year plays. He's on the right side of the video while a screen recording is on the left. It takes him less than five minutes to get Steve's past addresses found. And Eddie is... well, he's a little horrified at how long the list is. At the short amount of time Steve's spent in any one place is.

The guy in the video reads out the state, city, and how long Steve lived at each address. The longest one is when Steve made the jump from Florida to Maine, where he lived for 19 months according to the video, and that was years ago.

And then the guy, he fucking starts to speculate about where Steve might have moved to next.

"We can't know for sure, but it looks like he headed back west? You can see from the last 3 addresses he's been just jumping state lines to the next place. I'm guessing Oklahoma, Kansas or Nebraska next. If Steve thinks he can try and ruin Corroded Coffin through Robin Buckley, then it's up to us to prove him wrong," the guy is saying, and Eddie thinks maybe this guy is just exaggerating but the comment section is already filled with other people saying vile shit about what they should send to Steve or what they'd like to do to him physically and-

Eddie clicks off the video, to the next recommended. The more he watches, the angrier they seem to get. He goes to the search bar and looks for new react videos.

He finds that everyone has an opinion. He watches videos where his own fans express their disappointment in him. They talk about how Corroded Coffin runs an antibully campaign and then allows their fans to bully an ex and for not calling out the ones doxxing people, wanting to know which was the reason - does Eddie not know, or does he not care? Eddie didn't know. Truly. But he can't help but wonder if he didn't know because he didn't care.

He'd written all his feelings into a song, and now that he's older, he can see that a lot of what he was feeling is an exaggeration and dramatization of what really happened. But the point is, he'd written out his feelings and moved on.

The man he thought he'd marry one day.

His stomach twists uncomfortably as Robin's voice rings in his mind.

He continues his spiral down YouTube until Gareth calling him again breaks through and he answers.

"How is this the first time I'm hearing about Robin's interview?" Eddie demands.

"You've got a damn good PR team, that's how. I guess you fell down the rabbit hole, then?"

"How'd you-"

"Is been almost 4 hours since we talked. Doesn't take that long to watch a 30 minute video."

"Oh. Alright. So, why did you want me to watch the video? Am I supposed to respond to Robin?"

"No. People don't actually want to hear from you. They want to hear from Steve. And that's why you needed to watch. 'Cause Robin's announced that Steve's finally ready to make a statement. Robin's going to post it on her Twitter. Tonight. So, we've got to be ready. If anything Robin said turns out to be true, we might have a problem on our hands. A slander lawsuit being just the beginning."

"Fuck."

"What a way to sum it up," Gareth chuckles into the phone before his tone becomes serious, "hey, how are you doing, though? With it all?"

He thinks about it, and how he really feels, before answering. "It's been years since I've thought about Steve, y'know? I... I've had that luxury. I didn't know.... Did you?"

"No. Hell no! I'd of said something. I mean, shit man, we run an antibully campaign 'cause high school was shit to us. If I'd known at all we'd have been telling them to fuck off. Harassment's just what they call bullying adults."

Eddie swallows. "Guess we just have to wait and see what Stevie has to say."

"I'd come sit on the couch with you and refresh twitter frantically but, well, Indy's a bit of a ways off. I'll call after Robin's posted, then?"

"Yeah, man. Let's see the damage," Eddie sighed. "Talk to ya later."

"Bye."

Eddie digs out his laptop and pulls up Robin's twitter page. He adds an auto-refresher extension and sets it to refresh every minute before opening his phone and pulling up YouTube again.

[whorangi1104]

If Jor-El was always there with the milk

Inspired by this tiktok about a Tumblr post… also because the comments are begging me: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8Nojvct/

TW: description of a torture method

Everybody knows the story of how Superman crashed to earth after the destruction of his home planet, but not everyone knows of his father who arrived with him.

Jor-El, who had somehow gotten his clothes hooked onto some part of the capsule his baby was in when they fired it, was honestly surprised he survived the deep space for so long without losing his son's capsule, although weakened somewhat. It seemed that they crashed on a lesser developed planet, as the beings here were still living in small structures built of basic natural materials. With his son, Jor-El knocked on the door of the nearest settlement for help.

Pa Kent was quite surprised, to put it lightly, when he answered the door to a strange man wearing clothes that seemed quite out of place and carrying a sort of carrier containing- is that a baby? And it turns out they were aliens, and none of them could understand the other, but he knew wasn't hallucinating when the man demonstrated boiling a pot of water with his lasers for eyes. But he was taught to do the right thing and trusts people (or aliens) until they give him a reason not to, so he let them stay. He told the neighbors they were distant relatives who were tired of city life, and because they coincidentally needed a helping hand on the farm. Within a short time, they'd learned the language, became quite a help with their speed and strength, and were delightful company. Although Pa Kent still worried his wife might gravitate towards this “Jor-El”, for he was far better looking, but semi-co-parenting the adorable baby was worth it.

Jor-El quite enjoyed this simple life, and the years passed quick. He had started courting both humans, though he could not gift them his wealth, he helped whenever he could. He learned earth customs, and apparently what he thought was courting wasn't how they did it, but oh well. He would still teach he son the ways of his roots, and keep the customs of suitors.

Clark grew up like any other boy, except for the time he almost burnt down the barn, froze the lake, drifted into the clouds as a baby… you get it. His biological father taught him to control these things so he could blow on his food without making an iced sundae out of his soup, but it was Ma and Pa Kent who helped him with his school work, tucked him in most nights, and read him stories of snow white and little red riding hood. Jor-El mostly taught him a Kryptonian curriculum, and was the only one he could really let loose playing catch with without the worry of accidentally hurting him. It was kinda like having divorced parents, if the divorced parents got along just fine and still lived together, and one of them built an extension to the house that tripled its size to do experiments in (scientist on any planet). Sometimes Clark would catch his Father staring at a sketch of a woman and look up into the stars, but it was a mutual agreement not to speak of her (after Clark grew out of his ‘why’ phase anyway).

Clark grew up, had his farewell, moved to Metropolis, you know the story. Sometimes Jor-El would visit him, check up on his Kryptonian, though Clark knew he could hear him just fine across the country. Clark eventually started dating Bruce Wayne after interviewing him. Then there was some confusing things where Bruce kissed Superman, (that's still him, but he didn't think Bruce was really smart enough to figure that out at the time,) then BATMAN of all people kissed him, and they had a good laugh about how Bruce thought they both knew each other's identities, and Clark was a mess of confusion during it all. But this isn't about superbat interactions in the wild, plenty of other fanfics for that, this is about Jor-El about to have way too many adopted orphaned grandkids. So then came the time for Bruce to meet Clark's parents.

Meeting the Kent's? They were charmed, happy that Clark found someone financially stable and made him happy. The regular human stuff. Mr.El on the other hand?

Jor-El looked down at the man in a suit standing in front of him. He had never really listened in on his son's personal life, as a respectful Kryptonian, but this one seemed a bit… dim. Famously a playboy bimbo, honestly. This was the guy Kal-El was into? Well if Kal thinks he can pass the test, then so be it.

Bruce looked up at the imposing figure in front of him, tall as a mountain, calm as a river, arms crossed with a glare that could shake a lesser man. Bruce was no lesser man, but with his Brucie act, Jor-El probably thinks that he was just too stupid to be intimidated.

“So, Jake, was it?”

“Jor, of the house of El.”

The alien's glare deepened, while Bruce rivaled him with a smile.

“Potato patata, pleased to meet you sir.”

“Oh no, the pleasure is all mine.”

“Sarcasm, glad to see our species aren't so different.”

“You will need to complete the courting ritual to have my son.”

“I was thinking of breaking the ice a little, but straight to the point, a very efficient man I see. Could I interest you with a job at Wayne Enterprises?”

Jor-El ignored the job offer and switched to Kryptonian, which Clark sighed and translated, although Bruce had already learned the language and had surgery to implant an invention of his in his vocal cords to physically be able to pronounce the words that would be impossible for a normal human.

“He says the suitor may pick any activity as long as the rules are fair. If they fail to win, the parent can,— dad, I'm not translating that.”

Bruce understood it of course, giving a thoughtful “Hn.” in response. These Kryptonian rituals were certainly high stakes, and he certainly doesn't look forward to being strung up with barbed wire and left to marinate in a gas chamber for however long it would take for Clark to break through a bulletproof window with blue kryptonite strapped to his back. A Kryptonian might survive that, but certainly not mortal Bruce Wayne without his batsuit.

He knows what he has to do.

“What do you know, a royal flush!”

Batman can see Jor-El seething in the corner as this ditzy little human took the last of Clark's poker chips, an utter and undeniable victory. Bruce flashes the Man of Titanium- his new nickname- a signature Brucie smile, watching with glee as big, bright, and angry gave him a look that almost rivaled his batglare.

“...Did you just win Clark in a game of poker?”

“I also won an apple pie. The infamous Kent pie, try not to get too jealous when I take both of my hot, steamy, homegrown prizes home.”

Clark buries his head in his hands, but Bruce can feel his smile and the heat radiating off of him.

“Øh, åñd ßy thê wãy, try çœlîñg dòwñ ā bìt wíll yā? Rèd īßñ’t rælly yøúr çōlòr. �� prëfér Kål ïñ ìt mœrè.”

Bruce smirked at the brief flash of surprise on the older Kryptonian’s face at the use of his planet’s language, pulling Clark with his apple pie out the door before he can respond.

Ma Kent is cackling in the background :)

[frownyalfred]

But how would Bruce sweep in to help the Kents without raising suspicion on himself? Even if he did it anonymously, theres few people in Gotham that could have the power to so quickly get them out of the public eye. And if he does it publicly, I'm assuming he claims he was doing it to protect the JL as Bruce publicly funds them? Or would he essentially release a statement saying that as a close friend of Clark Kent, he wishes to protect him from the media as he of all people knows how vicious they can be? Idk, I completely agree that Bruce would be the one to get them out, the question is just how?

My heart also breaks for Clark because this is obviously one of the last things he ever wanted to occur. Superman's love for humanity is obvious to everyone and the loss of his civilian identity destroys any chance of him being able to interact with them outside of his superhero identity. Its one thing having to wait for something in the media to 'blow over' but this isn't your everyday politic scandal or other media story, this is the reveal of the man behind one of the Trinity itself, the reveal of Superman. It could easily take months before it stops being the front page cover of every newspaper and after that, what then? How do they move forward?

And all of this doesn't even begin to consider the guilt Clark would feel for ruining Lois and the kids' lives. Everyone would reassure him it wasn't his fault but Clark would obviously take responsibility for this, telling himself he should have been more careful, more secretive, more vigilant. That as a result of his lack of caution, he'd ruined any chance his kids and Lois had at a (somewhat) normal life. I feel like I could even see him being embarrassed to accept Bruce's help, chastising himself for not planning for contingencies like Bruce had.

Sorry to dump all this on you, I'm just so intrigued by the aftermath of the reveal itself.

No it’s a very valid question! In that media/public world, getting them out of the public eye as quickly as possible is the number one priority. That doesn’t need to be attributed to Bruce right away, or even at all — the Kents (all of them) disappear as quickly as possible. They fly to an agreed-upon rendezvous or they are taken there by private security hired by Bruce.

Once there, that’s when the PR shitstorm hits. Superman and his family are found out, maybe there were a few brief videos of them leaving or being escorted out of their workplace (Lois) or flying away from their school (Jon) but nothing long, nothing conclusive.

The media cycle begins. Interviews with the Kent’s’ friends, colleagues, neighbors, etc proliferate the news. Everyone is cashing in on what they can. Bruce, if he’s smart, has Clark and his family locked down somewhere they can’t watch television and is handling the response on his own.

But the reality is, there is not much Bruce CAN do, for the reasons you mentioned. Publicly tying himself to Superman and his family puts WE under greater scrutiny. Coming out in defense of Clark’s lies suggests he 1) knew about them and 2) approves of Superman’s decision to hide from the public.

I’m not sure that conversation between friends will go well. Bruce telling Clark there’s no way to return to their previous lives, not without significant security risks (not to mention the social strain) and Clark spiraling as he realizes he’s inadvertently taken away his Ma’s knitting circle, Lois’ job, Jon’s school.

It’s all different now. If he’s lucky, Bruce has plans to funnel them into a sort of witness protection, maybe in a few years when things settle down. But that would mean splitting them up — and that’s non negotiable. Even keeping Ma and Pa together is a stretch. They’re too easily recognizable.

I imagine maybe Bruce can give them a sort of asylum in the Watchtower, operating outside of any Earth’s jurisdiction. But that puts scrutiny on the Justice League instead. And Bruce is the kind of person to keep the JL autonomous and take the heat on WE if needed — even if he never mentions it.

There are things that Bruce would need to step in on: connections starting to be made between himself and Clark, accusations of Clark not being a US citizen (and Jon too, but because he’s an alien) and Lois for lying to the US government. Accusations that the Justice League was culpable in any way for Superman’s civilian actions. Scrutiny on WE and how much Bruce Wayne knows or should know, or how his funding is connected to a JL that is now under investigation etc.

But yes: I think Bruce could get them out and hidden without tipping his hand. But everything else, yeah, he would need to step into the spotlight at least a little. And he would do that for Clark, because that’s his friend. He’s had this complex series of contingencies ready since…maybe Clark and Lois’ engagement?

Having been in some PR crises, you need a Bruce. Someone not affected directly and cool/calm enough to speak to media, move people around, and make judgement calls. Clark is lucky he has such a friend, even if he’s beating himself up over his own actions and missteps.

I have more (probably more coherent) thoughts about this, but that’s my initial reaction — Bruce gets them out fine, but next steps are very, very complicated. And things won’t ever be normal again.

[wilwheaton]

Approximately 200 protesters gathered on a tree-lined residential street on Staten Island on Thursday night, many with high-powered flashlights on hand. They wielded those flashlights like strobes, beaming bright, jerky light over police barriers, into the windows of a former school where around 60 asylum seekers are living temporarily. Meanwhile, a man named Johnny Tabacco, a bitcoin-guy-turned-Newsmax-host, wearing an oversized blue pinstripe suit and slicked-back hair, stood on a truck bed and bellowed in a gravelly voice through a PA system that was turned up so loud that this reporter’s ears were still ringing hours later. Tabacco, who is one of the organizers, conceded in a short interview later on that the decibel level was by design. The organizers wanted to send a deafening message to their new neighbors: “You’re not welcome here.”

Staten Island Protesters Torment Asylum Seekers With Speakers and Flashlights

[joansiesbeloved]

“Joansie,” as Ted called her had so much going for her: gorgeous, rich, fashionable, trained concert pianist, athletic, and as JFK himself attested, "great at campaigning and winning over the crowds"… but one thing she didn’t do so well… interviews.

Source: Once There was a Spot The Jackie Wig Situation:

“It was Jackie who first got me to try on wigs. I just felt silly.” Well, unbeknownst to Joan, the media had been speculating on whether or not the First Lady wore wigs when she traveled. Everyone in Jackie’s camp denied it until Joansie accidently confirmed it.

To clarify… yes, Jackie did wear wigs if she was going to an event outside the US. She didn’t always fly Kenneth, her main hairdresser with her, so she just wore a wig instead.

They Have That, Too!:

For mere mortals, 😉 discussing your family home is perfectly benign. However, the Kennedys were far from mere mortals… they constantly fought the “JFK shouldn’t be President because he’s so rich he’s out of touch” school of thought. Americans obviously knew the Kennedys were among America’s most elite when it came to money. Therefore, the campaign did all they could to at least downplay it. So it wasn’t helpful when Joan revealed this to Redbook magazine:

“Besides all the sports equipment; boats, jet skis, tennis courts, riding stables, nearby golf courses and everything else…and if you want a steam bath, they have that too!” —Joan Kennedy, Redbook Magazine

Uncle Teddy and Jack's Back:

While chatting with a reporter in that same Redbook story, Joan mentioned that “Ted is the favorite uncle.” Did that ever begin a scandal…but not for the reasons you might think. “He’s the favorite uncle. [Ted] is big, so he can roughhouse with them. The President could too, but then there’s his back problem.”—Joan Kennedy to Redbook

The White House worked overtime to conceal the extent of Kennedy’s health concerns, and had been relatively successful. Joan blew all that during a single interview.

Bobby, better known as his brother’s keeper, angrily told Ted to “never let her speak a goddamn word to the press EVER again!”

So that’s precisely what Ted told her, and she felt she’d once again let down the family. Ethel and Jackie's Reaction: Ironically, the people least upset by Joan’s gaffe were Jack and Jackie. He took it in stride; he even argued with Bobby that “half the people out there” already knew about his back problems.

The whole scandal had been, in Jackie’s mind, blown completely out of proportion. It didn’t take long for Jackie to hear how distraught her youngest sister-in-law was. Jackie called Joan, hoping to ease her mind.

*Joan…was disheartened by her embarrassing faux pas, and becoming more insecure with her place and role in the family. She wanted so much to be of value to her husband like Ethel and Jackie were, but felt that she was always making mistakes which were embarrassing to her husband. *Ethel…When Ethel’s secretary asked Ethel about how Joan was doing, Ethel responded, “She’s doing the best she can. We are talking about Joan here, aren’t we?” *Jackie…When Jackie called Joan to check on her, an emotional Joan was so relieved to her from her, she confessed to crying and barely sleeping for three days. “Oh, it’s so silly,” Jackie told her. “[Jack] should be admired for his ability to work so hard while in such pain.” She told Joan not to give it another thought.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Binary Star

Part II

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he’s done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Part I

P.S. Academic rival -> CEO!Gojo

_____________

When he spots her name in the stack of papers his HR left on her desk, Satoru gets a brain freeze for a second. Couldn't be the girl he had once studied together with, no. It's been what, more than ten years since he had last seen her? It must be some other woman wearing the same name.

But he can't just leave the paper be, immediately taking it in his hands while the manager makes a confused face: Satoru only looks at the candidates' profiles when they are aiming for the high management positions in his company, nothing less. This woman, however, applied for the middle-level position, only recently becoming a senior at her old job. Why is the CEO looking at her CV so intently?

All Gojo sees is the name of the school they both graduated what feels like a hundred years ago, and he knows it's her. It's the girl who was his one and only rival, someone he had finally considered his equal when they both were fighting for the position of a valedictorian. It's her. He can finally understand what has happened.

Not that he wasn't searching for answers right after graduation. Knowing Shoko sometimes hung out with her, he was showering the girl with questions until she groaned something about the family of his classmate moving and that it's likely he would never see her again. She didn't tell why. Said she had no idea.

It's true, Satoru sees now: his old rival did move god knows where, nearly half across the country to a place he didn't even know existed. Some tiny city, he thinks as he googles the college she attended only to realize that it is, in fact, a community college. Community college? For someone as talented as her? Was she out of her goddamn mind? Even if she, for some unfathomable reason, didn't want to go to Harvard like him, despite her scholarchip, she could have chosen any other decent place with her marks. How could she do this to herself?

He continues reading the resume, the memories of her annoyingly pretty face fresh in his mind as if it all happened just yesterday. Internships at some tiny companies, assistant positions, and other entry-level jobs she should have never taken in places he has never heard of either... Until she finally moved here about two years ago and started slowly climbing the career ladder. Unfortunately, her CV leaves Gojo with more questions than answers he expected.

"I want you to interview her," he finally says to his HR manager, who's been shifting in her seat impatiently ever since he had taken the printed papers from her desk. "And if she says yes, I want to know when she'll come."

He isn't sure why he's doing it. It's been far too long to be holding any grudges, and, honestly speaking, he isn't angry at his old school rival. Curious, perhaps? This must be it. He just wants a closure of sorts. He wants to know why she has abandoned everything she believed in, even if it's selfish of him to be prying into her past. Clearly, something had happened. Something horrible.

Did she get pregnant, maybe? Gave birth? Remembering her father, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the reason they had to move. And yet, she didn't seem the type to do something like that... Not when he had never seen her speaking to boys outside of school, and even then, she would only be talking to them about lessons and future college or university prospects.

He has to have some patience, Satoru thinks. Surely, she'll accept the interview and come in person.

And she does, walking in the building - Gojo watches her from above, peering down from his fancy cabinet with enormous windows - just two days later. She looks somewhat different - not that he didn’t expect her to change after all these years - but there's the same air about her, he can feel it in his bones. It makes him strangely nostalgic, and he starts to itch to go down and talk to her the second she waltzes into the office of his HR. He needs to know why she left. Her secrets are making him restless like a child.

He needs to see her face when she realizes he's both the owner and the CEO of the company she wants to work for.

After giving her about 10 minutes, Gojo runs down the building as if he's a boy chasing an ice cream truck. He needs to see her. The itch that has been dormant for almost ten years is almost unbearable now, and he has no time to waste before she disappears again from his life.

"Yuki, I have a question..." he starts as if he has no idea she's conducting an interview at this very moment, making a surprised face and almost shouting the name of the woman he once called his equal. "Woah, I can't believe it! Is it really you?!"

Satoru knows it's not right to be that happy about her baffled - if not fearful - expression, but he can't help himself. Here she is, the girl who could never shut up in class whenever a teacher asked them a question, sitting in the office he built with the money he earned, not borrowed from his father. He is where she has always wanted to be, Gojo is sure. Geto would probably smack him for being a smug bastard in front of a woman who surely has nothing against him, but Satoru feels ecstatic.

Until he sees she is not only scared: she is terrified. Why? Is it because her old rival ended up doing much better than her? She must be feeling upset and jealous, but she shouldn't be horrified. There's nothing to be scared of. Is she worried she won't get this job because she thinks Satoru is a manchild who can't forgive her for their silly school competition?

Or is she scared of him?

He doesn't like the thought.

"I'm so happy to see you!" He adds with a too-wide smile. "What are you doing here?"

It's concerning how she bites down on her lower lip, nearly ripping the thin skin covered in lipstick.

Thankfully, Yuki finally acknowledges his presence with an awkward smile, "Mr. Gojo, good morning. I apologize, but we are in the middle of a job interview. If it's alright with you, I'll come see you a little later."

The woman in front of him still doesn't utter a single word, and he feels like she'll escape him again if he lets her. With a dramatic sigh and a smile so wide it's a wonder how his face hasn't cracked yet, he announces to her, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry for interrupting! But you'll wait for me after your interview, alright? We can go grab a coffee together! It's not like it's against our company policy, right, Yuki?"

If eyes could kill, he would definitely be dead by now because his HR is ready to stab him with a fork she once stole from a cafeteria and is now keeping in one of her drawers. Satoru isn't that suicidal yet, so he quietly leaves her office before his old rival can utter a single word.

Now, this is about to get interesting.

_________

Tags: @minshookie29 @mononlogue @whore-for-hawks @theoriginaluzisimp @khatte @brooke-gvf @nimuelis

[jokeroutsubs]

ENG translation: If we believed that we were "kings", that wouldn't be us

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin for Slovenian newspaper Delo, originally published on 24.12.2023. Audio version by IG GBoleyn123

Original article is available here for Delo subscribers. Original article written by Lucijan Zalokar for Delo; photos by Jože Suhadolnik; English translation by a member of Joker Out Subs, native proof reading by IG GBoleyn123.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

With Bojan Cvjetićanin about the international breakthrough of Joker Out, the movie Kaj pa Ester?, about life on the road, football, sociology…

I met up with Bojan Cvjetićanin in Ljubljana's Stegne industrial zone, where the members of the popular pop rock (in their jargon: shagadelic rock'n'roll) group Joker Out created a rehearsal space for themselves two years ago. "Lately we've been on the road a lot, but this is still a great second home. If only you knew about the parties that happened here. There were fifty people dancing downstairs," he proudly looked from a small gallery towards the space that measures approximately thirty square metres. Even though the clock had just struck three in the afternoon, the 24-year-old Ljubljana resident had a long day behind him, which had been entirely dedicated to media obligations.

In journalistic circles, we often hear indignation about how modern day influencers - especially those who had gained their influence on social media - have no books on their shelves. Joker Out are first and foremost musicians, of course, but with 150,000 followers (Bojan's personal profile has 190,000) on Instagram, we can count them among the big Slovenian influencers. And there are plenty of books on their shelves.

I don't want to falsely portray the popular fivesome as enlightened donors to the Slovenian literary market: most of the books resemble those you can buy for little money in second-hand bookshops, or even get for free at library write-offs, but they still deserve praise for both the aesthetic sense and the content.

I also don't want to falsely portray the books as the only notable objects in the rehearsal space. There are also the golden plate for the Eurovision single Carpe Diem, which got over two million streams in Finland, a transfusion bag (Rh-) that Tomi Meglič¹, Cvjetićanin's biggest teenage idol, personally brought to them, and a small shop's worth of props given to them by fans: pillows with hand-embroidered patterns, plushies, bras with Instagram accounts written on them, various sweets, you could even find a vinyl from a Soviet cover band of The Beatles. If things continue like that, they soon won't have any space left for instruments, but those are just sweet worries. Joker Out, who were formed in 2016, are currently conquering Europe in a way that the Slovenian music scene has never seen before.

¹frontman of Siddharta, whose third album was called Rh-

I've heard that you approach your job with the utmost professionalism and that you wake up at five in the morning for media obligations.

That's true, today we started early in the morning in Maribor. The first few hours were the most tiring because we were constantly changing locations and driving around the city. After the third or fourth activity, we relaxed a little because we got to the studio. After that, everyone started coming to us instead of the other way around.

Slovenian cinemas have started playing the movie Kaj pa Ester? in which you play a boy who enrolled in high school just to get close to his ex girlfriend again. Did you have any problems with trying to get into the high school mentality?

We filmed the movie two years ago, when my memories of high school were much more fresh than they are today. But on the other hand, I played a boy who had just finished the ninth grade of primary school, so I had to put myself into the shoes of a primary school kid, which is much harder. We're also pretty different personality-wise. But almost the entire cast was around the same age, so too old. We joked about that a lot during filming.

Still, that's nothing unusual in the movie world.

Of course, there are 35-year-olds starring in High School Musical and no one is complaining.

Could you draw any parallels between a musical stage performance and filming a movie? You have to play a kind of role during a concert too...

I have to admit that it's completely different. On stage, I never feel like I'm performing. Of course I am actually performing, but I'm still in the role of myself, Bojan, whereas in the movie, I'm someone completely different. It might be easier to compare filming a movie with recording music in the studio, but there are big differences there as well. The biggest one is that for a movie, the director has the main and the final say. You have to trust him. When you film a scene, you don't even see what you've filmed for a long time. The movie in which I play one of the main roles will be played in cinemas, and I don't even know what I will look like on the big screen. It's different with music, because us authors listen to the songs a hundred times, a thousand times; we're the ones who make all the final decisions. That's quite a mental leap, but I didn't have too many problems with it, because I knew the previous projects of that team. V dvoje ('In a tandem') is my favourite Slovenian TV series. On the other hand, I needed time to get used to this new method of working. If I asked to see the scene we'd filmed one more time, but the director said it was good, we kept filming without hesitation.

You said that on stage, you are always in the role of yourself. Does the nature of that role change from concert to concert? And what influences it? The audience, the outfit…

The outfit has an influence for sure. More than I initially thought. Lately we've been playing with our stage look a lot and looking for the right combination. I currently find that the outfit suits me very well, it's just the shoes that bother me because they're too rigid. I have to change them. They're huge and massive, which makes me feel like I'm clumsily marching around the stage, whereas during rehearsals I wear sneakers and I'm therefore a lot more in the mood for dancing.

What about the language you sing in? Many people say that they feel as if by switching between different languages, they are also switching between their personalities.

I agree. When you change the language, your voice has a different colour and register, you come up with different jokes than in your mother tongue. If I lead a concert in Slovenian, Serbian, or English, I'm a different dude every time. This is also influenced by my notion that each time, I'm performing for a different group of people who are connected by a certain mentality. In Slovenia, I'm performing as a local for locals, and I feel like there are different "game rules" than for example in Croatia or Serbia. Elsewhere, I feel like I don't even think about this.

How did you get the idea to start creating and singing in English? You already broke through internationally with Slovenian.

Us creating in foreign languages isn't so much a result of wanting to break through internationally and the mentality that only English ensures global success. If we thought that way, we wouldn't have gone to Eurovision with a Slovenian song. We're primarily driven by a desire to learn new things, to push the boundaries... In the studio, it's similar to being on the stage. If you change the language, you're not only a different person on stage, but also inside your head. Your creativity is different. Playing with languages is actually also playing with your own creativity, because you enter a different space, a different mentality. The song Sunny Side of London could not have been made if we hadn't mentally transported ourselves to an English-speaking space. We want many more projects like that, not necessarily in English.

Can you be more specific? What kind of mentality do you associate Sunny Side of London with?

That song is a sort of homage to all the people who have suddenly become part of our story. Sunny Side of London has nothing to do with London as such. I was looking for a name of a well-known place with which to name all our concerts, and I decided on London.

The first time I said the words Are you guys real? – Is this really happening, are you really here and singing our songs? – on the stage, certain English phrases snuck into my mind. What the hell is going on? and so on. We also experienced, for the first time, foreigners coming up to us and talking about their own experiences connected to our music. That was something completely new for us. We listened to all those stories in English, as our fans of course can't speak Slovenian, even though they can sing our Slovenian lyrics. Sunny Side of London therefore emerged as a collection of all the experiences and stories that fans told us after gigs.

You've already touched on fans who sing your lyrics by heart from Finland to Spain. Could you highlight the nation with the best ear for the Slovenian language?

On the latest tour, when we visited Lithuania, Poland, Czechia and Croatia, there were moments when I felt like I was singing in Slovenia. In Prague, I filmed the audience singing Umazane misli without me. As if I were in Križanke, for example. But it's even more fascinating that people sing well in England and Nordic countries too. It's understandable that our Slavic brothers have the best ear for Slovenian, but northerners aren't far off either.

How much of your international success do you attribute to the Eurovision performance?

A huge amount.

If you had to express it in a percentage?

99.9.

Really?

Definitely. It was an incredible catapult. Whenever I ask the audience at our international concerts if anyone was already with us before Eurovision, a few hands shoot up every time, but those are rare exceptions.

How do you explain the fact that you finished in the relatively humble 21st place in Liverpool, but your visibility still grew in leaps and bounds?

We were very, very, very dedicated to the Eurovision project. We put a lot of time and energy into demonstrating to the people who were open to it that we weren't just a three-minute performance, but very much an existing band that has made many songs and that lives on stage. With time, and of course in connection with the Eurovision performance, more and more listeners got to know that. We clearly showed them: we are here, we are real, try it, connect with us.

Because they had so much different content available, this actually happened. I think it was also because they saw that Joker Out really was made out of five completely regular dudes from Slovenia who live a totally normal life, and at the same time we make music and have a great time doing it. That is already a slight deviation from what's been happening recently, when we're being bombarded from all sides by messages that we need to distance ourselves from each other, that we have to hate each other...

That was the sociologist in you talking.

That's true. The atmosphere in society nowadays is such that it emphasises individuality more than building a team. Young people, however, need and want to be part of a community. And we offered them that chance.

Where does your interest in social sciences come from? Your father is a gynecologist, your mother a pediatrician, and you have a degree in sociology.

I had a very good professor in high school. If you wanted to listen to him, he offered a lot of knowledge. Even though sociologists often think about society in an abstract way, the subject always felt tangible to me. I recognised it in very concrete life situations that I was trying to understand. At my final exams, I did a great job with sociology with very little effort – and then made a mistake and enrolled in economics. I wavered between those two options from the start, and in the end, what tipped the scales were the warnings of many people I knew that sociology doesn't have good employment prospects. I gave in to the pressure and very quickly realised I had made the wrong decision. I gave up on economics after the first semester. That was when I seriously threw myself into the band, we made Gola, and then I transferred to sociology and there was happiness all around.

You clearly won't work as a sociologist for a while yet, if ever...

But I am a sociologist.

In your soul?

No, as my profession. Us musicians are sociologists. A lot of sociological terms could easily be transferred into our environment. Locale, for example. In third year, the professor asked me several times: Well, Cvjetićanin, if you have a concert, is that locale or something else? And then I said it was locale and started rambling on. (laughter)

So you are a singing sociologist?

Exactly.

How do you explain the success of Joker Out from a sociological point of view? How do your songs address the zeitgeist?

I write the lyrics exclusively based on stories that really happened. Not necessarily to me, but to people I love. Therefore, I have a strong emotional relationship with the subject matter. My opinion is that there will always be people who will connect with the story if it's real. Because it's easiest for us to connect with real emotions. Our songs are love songs, they talk about finding yourself and personal growth, some are socially critical... I think that I have managed to find the right balance between being direct and being poetic.

I'll word it differently. The Beatles already sang about love and personal growth. And they weren't the first ones by far. Later on, those same themes were covered by hundreds of successful bands and an infinite number of slightly less successful ones.

I think that nowadays, we most often associate societal changes with technological development. Technological advances largely dictate the rhythm of our life. But those advances are mostly just a substitute for something that already existed in the past. The basic emotions have therefore certainly stayed the same. Love, fear, hatred... I think that the use of language is very important here. Even though the emotions don't change, the way we put them into words does. In music, too. I don't sing about a topic the same way my peers would have in the 1970s. Consequentially, our relationship with emotions is changing and evolving as well. As if our entire society is gravitating towards the point of holding the belief that it's better for an individual to feel less and less, and in a more and more censored way.

On the one hand, excessive use of social media and other media causes us to feel like distinct individuals. On the other hand, it connects us to the world and places us into a very wide picture. In every moment, we are only a click away from becoming cosmopolitan and being able to access all the information, events, and people, but at the same time, that's exactly what reminds us that we are a small and actually not very important dot on this planet. The magnitude of everything that's constantly available to us makes us feel small. I think that we mostly listen to, watch, and use those who manage to poke the spot that unnerves people the most in this context. If performers manage to break through the firewall of someone's VPN, then those people will also show their interest in an analogue way. Otherwise, they will only be a swipe away.

And now a question that's more psychological than sociological: do you ever try to get into the heads of the people who time and again show their interest in very analogue ways?

I have an infinite appreciation for their dedication, because for myself, I don't see the chance of a phenomenon exciting me so much that I would be ready to dedicate so much time and love to it.

So you've never been a very hardcore fan?

If, at twelve years old, I had to highlight one musicians that I would've wanted to meet more than anyone in the world, that would definitely have been Tomi Meglič. That hasn't changed to this day. The only difference is that we meet up with Tomi and we're friends. I still feel the highest possible level of respect for him. Every time he calls me, I am extremely proud of myself. But I still cannot imagine going to, say, Berlin tomorrow if Siddharta were playing there and I had a free day. I'd go to Maribor or Zagreb, but absolutely not across all of Europe the way the biggest fans do. Not even at twelve. I could sooner imagine that at that age, a football match rather than a concert would be the thing that excited me beyond all reason.

We're probably talking about two groups of celebrities that get worshipped as deities by the masses in Western society: footballers and pop and rock musicians. And this is probably linked to emotions again.

True. The thing that wakes up a person's sense of smell, sight, and all other emotions that overcame them as a child, is what has the best possibility of succeeding.

Now please explain how this is connected to football.

If I go to a concert by Siddharta, Big Foot Mama, Magnifico, I turn into a ten-year-old kid who will explode from happiness. There's no Bojan anymore. He gets lost. It's the same with football. When I watch it, I dream about how I played for Slovan² as a kid and what I wanted more than anything was to score a goal and for everyone in the stands to yell: Yeeeees!

²ND Slovan is a football club from Ljubljana

You don't score goals, but you are in a similar position that Tomi Meglič used to be in.

All the band members come from very loving families that have always provided us with a very good support system and instilled basic values in us that we internalised deeply. That is why everything that's currently happening around us hasn't gone to our heads in a way that would make us think that we're bigger or more important than anyone else. If we started believing that we were "kings" because everyone was clapping for us and singing our songs, that would probably be a very strong feeling, but that simply wouldn't be us. We mostly love to see all the people, because we know how much we mean to them and how much they mean to us. Without them, we wouldn't be able to focus on what's most important to us – our music. On the other hand, I can say with a thousand percent certainty that I would easily and happily do my job if I was performing at venues like Cankarjev dom. So, in front of a calmer audience, without unreal hype.

But what I would like most in the world is to turn into a footballer for ten seconds and score a goal at an important match. You know why? Because that is the biggest adrenaline hit that exists. When we perform on various stages, there's mayhem around us for two hours straight. But in football, when a goal is scored, that happens in a millisecond. You go from nothing into total chaos. Everyone loses their minds. I'd love to experience that. Well, I did – much like everyone who played football in primary school. When I scored a goal for Slovan and a hundred people in the stands clapped for me, I felt like I was on Maracanã. Imagine what it would be like to experience that on the real Maracanã.

It's interesting that you highlighted a loving and stable family background. Many of the biggest pop and rock stars in the world grew up in a diametrally opposite environment. From John Lennon and Janis Joplin to Prince and Rihanna. There are actually so many of them that we can talk about a pattern.

I know, because I love to read their (auto)biographies, and I agree with your assessment that their family circumstances are fundamentally different than ours. That is always my answer to the question when someone wants to know how debauched our tours are. When I tell them that we mostly drink water and tea on the road, they just can't believe it. But it's the truth, because we've realised three things. First, we enjoy what we do immensely, and from the experiences of many musicians, we know that you can almost definitely forget about a long career if you start doing everything that we perceive as the proverbial rock'n'roll lifestyle. A band like that breaks up sooner or later, either because of frayed nerves, or exploding egos, or because of money. Second, we've all had to go to work hungover and we know very well that it's unbearable. I especially can't imagine how we could stay healthy and keep our strength and our voice if we were constantly hungover on the road. In that case, the only short-term solution is drugs, which we fortunately [knocks on wood] don't do. And third: I'm sure that you have a much better time on stage if you're aware that you are on it.

Your international breakthrough doesn't have a precedent among Slovenian musicians. Would you dare to point out where the difference is, why you made it and not for example Siddharta, who had filled Bežigrad stadium and later did not hide their international ambitions?

We have to understand that Siddharta didn't have the chance to perform at a festival like Eurovision. It's hard to understand what it means for 160 million people to watch you. That is a bizzarely huge number. All this happened in the time of social media, and we had set up a pretty good mechanism in that area even before Eurovision, and then also used it, whereas Siddharta established itself as a band in the time of analogue media. I can't even imagine how it would've been possible to break through abroad from Slovenia at that time. Because even we are already – even though some things have opened up for us very nicely and we've been joined by the right people – finding out how much of an investment going international demands. Dreams of megalomanical earnings and a luxurious life brought on by a European tour shatter quickly. Even when you start filling up venues, you stay in a kind of hustle mode. You fight. Unfortunately, the costs in the music business are so high that performing abroad is more or less just for promotion for a long time.

You're probably thinking of logistical costs?

Yes. Some of my colleagues have total misconceptions about our earnings. They think that we're literally swimming in money, while we actually earn what amounts to a normal salary.

In March next year you will have eighteen concerts. You will start in Helsinki and end in Milan. How will you travel?

With a tour bus. We've rented it twice so far: for the UK tour and for the tour around Lithuania, Poland, and Czechia. There are beds on it, so we can sleep while driving from one concert to the next. The tourbus is prohibitively expensive, you pay almost half of your royalties for it, but it's the only way for a musician with such a packed schedule to survive in the long run. Sometimes people ask me why we don't travel with a van instead, but you have to understand that we sometimes have concerts two days in a row and the venues are 800 kilometres apart. If we spent all night in an uncomfortable van, then looked for a hotel in the morning and so on, we might be able to endure it for a week, but definitely not all month.

Do you ever sleep in a hotel?

Only on free days.

Will the March tour be your most exhausting one so far?

It will definitely be one of the more exhausting ones, but I am definitely happy that we will be able to sleep on a tour bus. We haven't been on a month-long tour yet, so it's hard to predict anything, but on the Nordic tour this year we played six concerts in five days, because we had two concerts in one day in Helsinki. We didn't have a tour bus there, we flew instead. That meant that after the concert, we got to the hotel at midnight, then we had to be at the airport at three in the morning, a few hours later we were already at the new location, we napped for two hours on a couch, had a soundcheck – rinse and repeat for five days in a row.

Let's not talk only about the negative sides of tours…

Of course. I love sleeping on the bus! I fall asleep like a baby who's being taken for a walk in a stroller. I can't sleep more than nine or ten hours in my bed at home, on a tour bus I easily get twelve hours. Maybe it's because it's constantly shaking a little. The other guys also sleep very well on the road.

But the most magical thing on tours is when I visit a city for the first time just because we have a gig there. That seems unimaginable to me. To meet new people, wonderful fans, to bond as a band, experience new, funny situations, to bring home a bunch of new inside jokes and incredible gifts that fans have made themselves. [Points towards a hand-embroidered pillow in the part of the studio where they keep the gifts.]

Elite athletes often lament that it's true that they compete all over the world, but they often only see the airport, the hotel, and the sports venue.

It's similar for us. When we travel with a bus, we only see the venue. If we happen to have a free day, we walk around the city, but we definitely don't visit all kinds of tourist attractions as some people might wrongly imagine. When we go to Paris, we definitely won't go to the Louvre, and we will see the Eiffel tower through the bus window if everything goes well.

But you meet a lot of interesting people.

That's true. I find it the most fascinating if we meet fans when we don't expect them at all. In a restaurant, on a plane… When we were flying to Poland, it turned out that one of the flight attendants was a big fan of ours. She told us that she was going to three of our concerts and brought us champagne and a model of a Lot Polish Airlines plane.

I was even more surprised in Helsinki. I went to some kind of dark club that had a techno music party. Suddenly I was approached by three people, two guys and one girl, and they told me that they were our fans and that they couldn't believe that they met me in that club. I also couldn't believe that people recognised me in the middle of Helsinki. What's going on?!

In the summer, you took a step back from Instagram for a while. What brought you to that decision?

Many things. I felt creatively empty. I also, for the first time in my life, experienced the internet – not just Slovenian, but global – being completely oversaturated with me. That started negatively pressuring me and eating me up. I thought about it a lot, and the first time I asked myself whether I'd be less Bojan Cvjetićanin if I didn't have an Instagram profile, I turned it off. Immediately after that, I wrote three songs; I felt as if I had cleaned up some of the mess that had built up recently. I returned to social media some time ago; with much healthier habits than before, I think.

How do you see social media? As a space for playfulness, for promotion, part of the job, part of private life?

I think that at the time when they started killing me, I perceived them too professionally. I had a feeling that Instagram was a platform through which I had to achieve all sorts of things. Lately, I prefer to joke around more.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ryan W. Briggs, Max Marin, and Ellie Rushing at Philadelphia Inquirer:

BETHEL PARK, Pa. — In the sea of caps and gowns, Thomas Matthew Crooks hardly stood out. Few people clapped when his name was called. A YouTube video of his graduation two years ago from Bethel Park High School shows a slender and bespectacled student receiving his diploma with a soft smile. But the class of 2022 awoke Sunday to learn that the 20-year-old Allegheny County man was notorious, the shooter in the assassination attempt on former President Donald Trump during a rally that left an ex-firefighter, Corey Comperatore, dead and two other attendees wounded. U.S. Secret Service counter-snipers killed Crooks moments after he opened fire on the Saturday night rally from a nearby rooftop. The FBI said Sunday they believed he acted alone. He had not been on the bureau’s radar.

Crooks’ actions shocked residents in his hometown, sparked countless conspiracy theories online, and prompted investigators to begin combing through every aspect of his life, looking for motive. The mystery has been fueled by a near-total absence of Crooks’ social media postings, political writings, or other digital fingerprints. Several former classmates appeared on national television Sunday, quickly casting Crooks as a stereotypical loner who was bullied heavily during his time at Bethel Park. One of them, Jason Kohler, told reporters Sunday that students tormented Crooks “almost every day” and that he often wore “hunting” outfits to class. “He was just an outcast,” Kohler said, “and you know how kids are nowadays.” Yet, two former students interviewed by The Inquirer disputed the characterization. They did not recall specific incidents of violence or other antagonism involving their now-infamous classmate in the community they described as generally tight-knit.

[...] The slight traces of public information Crooks left behind leave few clues about his political ideology. Federal campaign finance records show he made a $15 donation to progressive political action committee in 2021 after President Joe Biden’s election, but later registered as a Republican, according to Pennsylvania voter data. His father was a registered Libertarian, his mother a Democrat. Crooks’ body was found on the rooftop of an agricultural tool manufacturing plant a few hundred feet from the rally with an AR-style semiautomatic rifle — legally purchased by his father. The shooter was wearing a T-shirt promoting “The Demolition Ranch,” a YouTube channel for gun enthusiasts. If Crooks maintained any personal social media presence, it went largely undetected on Sunday. Discord, an instant messaging platform mainly used by video gamers, released a statement acknowledging Crooks held a “rarely utilized” account that contained no information relevant to the shooting.

Sigafoos did not recall Crooks making political overtures in class, but rather as someone interested in how government works, and “not trying to insert his own beliefs into it.” Another former classmate did not share this view. Max R. Smith recalled taking an American history course with Crooks as a sophomore. He did recall Crooks making political statements — but they shed no light on his actions Saturday. “He definitely was conservative,” he said. “It makes me wonder why he would carry out an assassination attempt on the conservative candidate.” Smith recalled a mock debate in which their history professor posed government policy questions and asked students to stand on one side of the classroom or the other to signal their support or opposition for a given proposal. “The majority of the class were on the liberal side, but Tom, no matter what, always stood his ground on the conservative side,” Smith said. “That’s still the picture I have of him. Just standing alone on one side while the rest of the class was on the other.”

The gunman who killed rallygoer Corey Comperatore and attempted the assassination of Donald Trump at Saturday night’s Butler, PA rally was not only a registered Republican but also a vehement conservative.

This should hopefully put an end to the right-wing’s nonsensical claim that a “violent leftist”/”Antifa” tried to kill Trump.

[laylasverse]

WINTER INDUSTRIES

. . . is the conglomerate of WINTERS MECHANICAL, WINTERS MEDICAL, and WINTERS TECHNOLOGIES.

at the age of sixteen layla winters founded the now multi-billion dollar company, winters industries. layla created winter industries after the death of her step-father to follow in his footsteps of bettering the world. nicholas winters was a man with "a smile that could light up a room." [1] many of brooklyn's residents have called the man an "inspiration of humbleness and kindness." [2] traits many have seem to lost in today's fast-moving world. even new york's own spider-man has only compliments for the late mr winters. it has been made clear that new york city is rooting for the young ceo. her continuous contributions to the betterment and funding of not only schools and orphanages but also ma & pa shops have set ms winters apart.

1. quote from an interview with nicholas' former neighbor, mrs vance. 2. quote from nypd's detective alan morris on the passing of nicholas winters.

WINTERS MECHANICAL focuses on creating machines and vehicles that lessen the emissions to earth’s atmosphere. all while keeping civilian operations affordable. 

WINTERS MEDICAL is the division focused on the advancement of medical technology. they create cures and machines to help with surgeries to remove human error, along with other things.  

WINTERS TECHNOLOGIES is the leading company in the electronic space. meaning they sell the most phones, tablets, laptops, desktops, watches, headphones, and more. 

ꪆৎ : winters industries is my company in my spider-verse desired reality!! aka me being tony stark but like i never sold weapons of mass destruction or any weapons lol. (yes this is mild tony hate)

[cazzyf1]

Some James Hunt lore ✨️

Because man needs to be appreciated

Warning, potential nsfw and other triggering topics under the cut

James Hunt brought a v*brator to a Mclaren mechanic asking if he could fix it.

James Hunt supporting black-led groups in South Africa when trying to gain their independence. He didn't want to commentate the South African GP because of what was happening but the BBC forced him to. So he purposely revealed during the race that him and Murry Walker were not actually in South Africa commentating (which was not known to the public at the time). He also donated all the money he got from commentating the South African GP to charities to support the apartheid's even though at the time he was struggling for money

James Hunt learnt to play the trumpet at school and was rather good at it. He got to play at the Royal Albert Hall and everyone was suprised when he played well and got invited back to perform at another show.

At school he made his younger brother a pair of pj trousers and his brother proudly wore them around. James loved his younger siblings dearly.

James studied the female anatomy to understand and help his girlfriend at the time who kept having miscarriages.

Niki had to convince German guards not to arrest James when he tried breaking back into the track after a night out.

James having to convince airport customs to let him bring a playboy magazine through because it had an interview piece with him in.

James would throw up before races and Niki sometimes would piss beside him.

After retiring from F1 James brought a farm however he couldn't kill any of the animals so it fell through. His son, Freddie, now owns a sustainable farm in Scotland.

James loved the game backgammon and made everyone play it with him.

James sent Niki a telegram after his crash trying to motivate him to get better. Niki called James up on his birthday from hospital and they chatted for hours.

James owned a nightclub called 'Oscars' named after his dog.

James Hunt slept with a journalist then got upset when she rated him in a newspaper article.

James seized the PA system from a flight attendant and gave his own version of the welcoming address as they landed. Later on he appeared sitting on luggage riding the carousel.

One day during practise James felt tired and halfway through he pulled the car over and fell asleep. Niki who was sitting out watching James practise panicked when James didn't return and jumped on an ambulance that rushed around to find James, only to find him asleep in his car.

James went to therapy and concluded that he struggled with emotional intimacy with women likely down to the lack of emotional availability in his childhood.

Once, while being interviewed, James pointed to his hotel room and him and the interviewer watched as a woman broke into his hotel room.

James was happy when Suzy left him for Richard Burton as he felt responsible for her even though their relationship had fallen apart.

James was given a toy monkey after winning the championship and carried it everywhere.

He would refuse to wear suits to formal events, preferring to wear jeans and no shoes.

In his early days he tried to enter a mini car he had made with missing doors and a garden chair in the passenger seat.

Once James was stuck in the back of a car in traffic and he needed to go to the toilet. His then girlfriend suggested he piss out the window as the car tried to rush past all the traffic but as it was so cold his c*ck wouldn't work so he was just accidentally flashing everyone as the car rushed by.

After winning the world championship, Britian hosted a 'James Hunt' day. Niki went along to wave a flag for one of the races.

One of the first times James Hunt and Murry Walker worked together, James leg was in a cast, and he sat down and put his leg on Murray's lap which really annoyed Murray. He also drank two bottles of rose wine during that commentary session.

James was utterly dedicated to his dog Oscar to the point that they were inseparable.

James said that what brought him pleasure in the bedroom is the woman feeling pleasure and that he liked a woman who knew what she wanted and told him

He became very depressed and would call the bad days his 'dippers'

He struggled with a lot of addictions but got sober for his sons

[bitkahuna]

Draco was far more than just angry. He was the reason that Gryffindor’s Golden Boy Harry fucking Potter had a burn across his forearm that he got while saving everyone from Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. But Harry had even more dirt on him than that. They’d kissed. Sure, there was the embarrassment of getting locked out of the school and getting stuck in a tree, but Draco Malfoy, the son of some of Voldemort’s favored Death Eaters, had kissed Harry fucking Potter.

And of course, everyone would believe Harry’s version of the story. He did, after all, violently burn Harry’s arm and probably had him cornered and afraid in the alley. He was ruined. Draco’s reputation with Death Eaters as well as the rest of wizarding society was absolutely ruined.

Harry, however, only stood there, incredibly confused as to why Draco seemed to be getting more and more stressed out. “You alright?”

“I-yes. Obviously. Of course.” His voice hitched slightly as he looked around before grabbing Harry by his other arm and dragging him off the stairs, taking him into a lonely corridor. “You’re obviously not going to tell anyone, right?” He spoke as if it benefitted them both for it to stay a secret.

Harry only furrowed his eyebrows as a smile came upon his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he put that charming boyish smile on, just as he did for the cameras. “Tell anyone? Malfoy, I hadn’t planne-”

"Don't play dumb." Draco snapped, cutting him off. His voice was ice cold and stern, as if he were in any position to be making demands. It was something he’d learned from Snape; always act like you’re in control, especially when you aren’t. “I know your type, Potter. You’ll hold this over me until you get what you want. What buys your silence?” He couldn’t hold back the bitterness that invaded his tone.

Harry eyed Draco warily. A desperate animal was a dangerous one, and for as much as he liked kissing Draco, he wasn’t stupid. No doubt the boy could hex the daylights out of Harry if he wanted. "I’m not out to get you." He cringed on the inside as he realized the smile probably didn’t come off the way he intended.

In fact, the idea of ruining Draco hadn’t even crossed his mind. For everything he’d done in the last few years, ruining Draco almost felt … small. It was a horrible thing to think about another person. But, in his opinion, it wouldn’t be worth the effort. There’s a literal Death Eater who actively plans to kill Harry, roaming around the school. Why bother with Draco? “I don’t think I understand.” He spoke lamely.

"Enough games, Potter. You aren’t as stupid as I say, and we both know it.” He glared. “You have enough to destroy me. The …” he trailed off with a light blush, “what happened in Hogsmeade. My parents would disown me if they knew! Our standing would be ruined! Oh, and if the world knew I was the reason the Golden Boy got burned!"

Harry didn’t bother correcting Draco about the burn not being his fault. He knew it wouldn’t help and it wouldn’t change his mind either. Frankly, thinking back on Knockturn Alley, the world of upper-class wizards seemed incredibly similar to that of crooks. Just with high-class crimes and faux pas in fancy ballrooms, instead of real crimes in pubs and alleys. Though, remembering that Malfoy’s circle is full of Death Eaters and sympathizers, it probably also had quite a few real crimes thrown in there.

“You could ruin me and my family with a few simple words.” Draco continued, knowing how the reporters and journalists loved interviewing Harry. A story like this could start a wildfire.

-----

“You’ll be my potions partner.”

Draco blinked, a look of disgust coming about his face. But Harry continued before he could respond. “I hate potions, you’re better at it, Snape hates me, he likes you, so be my partner.”

The blond’s jaw dropped as, frankly, it was a fair point. “Fine. Just for this semester. And you’d better follow my instructions exactly!”

“Deal.”