#PART 2 OF 2

[miss-carter]

I know my value. Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.

[dunmeshistash]

Okay I think I'm ready to write the second part of this post about Milsiril

To make it easier for me I'll just divide this into her relationship with Kabru, Mithrun and Helki (her ex-canary prisoner teammate)

First about Kabru

This is an extra from the daydream hour 5. The caption says "Something like this might as well have happened" so its probably not canon but could be. I honestly think his reaction to Milsiril visiting and being overbearing says a lot about the type of relantionship they have. This is the fakest bitch in the whole of dungeon meshi, he never says what he trully thinks unless there's an advantage to doing so, he's a people pleaser that does and says anything to make people like/trust him. And yet he immediatly converts into "Mooooooom you're embarassing meeeeee" when he sees it's Milsiril.

This translation used "Mom" but as I understand the original he uses the more formal version so I think it would be closer to "Mother" but still he acknowleges her as his Mother, and he acts like her kid in every interaction we see between them.

I really don't understand where the idea that he learned to be fake from being "forced" to be her adoptive son comes from.

(Continuing under a cut)

The other interaction we see between them is the Kabru extra from the Adventurer's Bible

Kabru comes to her with a deep fear he clearly has had even before she adopted him, he trusted her with this fear and she did not disappoint him, she comforted him and then gave him the information he needed to believe what she was saying

I'd also like to point out in no moment she discouraged him from calling his his bio-mom "Mom". He also says she taught her children everything they asked

I doubt this would only be true for him, it also mirrors something she said in the manga

"You can go ahead and learn all you want about something else." I believe it when Kabru says she made every effort to answer her children's questions. I think this is also the way she expresses the love she has for them. Plus I love the thought bubble with Kabru mirroring what he learned from her. I also love this daydream hour, she sacrifices her own comfort to do something for Kabru.

Milsiril isn't a perfect mother tho, besides the fact she is overprotective she comes from a very different culture from her children. I like to call her Kabru's white mom cause I think that would be the real world equivalent. This extra is the one I think the most about showing this context perfectly

Kabru wants to share Utaya sweets but looks at his mom looking gloomy/rejected so he talks about fruitcake instead. This very rude for Milsiril to do since she's kinda trying to overwrite his actual cultural background, but I think its done more as a "I want you to like the things I like" rather than something nefarious, and once again Kabru doesn't hide at all his distaste for it, he does the bare minimum to please his mom since she's being dramatic but he doesn't lie to her, he shows how displeased he is about fruitcake, something he refuses to do when eating the harpy omelette that is way worse, because he must make a good impression for Laios. Kabru is honest with his overbearing white mom once again.

Now a little about Rin, from Kabru's context, this is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

(look at Helki he's such a gremlin i love him) anyway, Rin has a trauma about elves, they really mistreated her so she hates them, but when they notice she isn't thriving they go to Milsiril for help (Helki specifically I'll talk more about him next). I think this indicates she really has a better understanding of short lived kids, her kids are thriving differently from the ones the other elves try to care for. I'd also like to remember she lives secluded from other elves so while Kabru probably had lots of interactions with elves during his life, most of it was probably spent with Milsiril and her other adoptive kids. She also asks Kabru if he would do this to help Rin, he isn't being forced or anything, I also think it's good that Milsiril knows she cant take in any more kids, this to me shows she's worried about the quality of life her kids have. That is all to say, Rin is the one with elf trauma, not Kabru, because Kabru had Milsiril to shelter him from them.

Helki

This will be short and sweet since there's barely anything about Helki, he's her prisioner companion from her time in the canaries, but he was pardoned after Utaya, it says so in the Canarie's Structure page in the new adventurer's guide but I cant really find it translated again... so here's google's machine translation (I remember it saying "Retired and pardoned as a reward after Utaya", something like that)

so officially he isn't a prisoner anymore, but I think he still works as a canary, even so he and Milsiril seem quite close, he is the one to go talk to her about Rin, He is there when she's training Kabru (both laughing at Kabru and then participating). I saw people theorizing she stays close to him because he is also someone who she can feel superior to, but I don't believe it at all, he's STILL in contact with her even after they have nothing to with each other, I think they really have a friendship, and there's no point where it seems like she feels like she's better than him or that he's less than her, people seem to interpret Milsiril and her relationships in the worst possible ways every time and I don't understand why.

This segways into Mithrun

I've also seen people assuming she only got close to Mithrun because now he needs her and has no power over her, once again with the theory that Milsiril surrounds herself with people she can feel superior to. But once again, Milsiril had a change of perspective about Mithrun after seeing his Dungeon

Rather than she feeling superior to him I think rather she realized he was just like her. (And I think she's friends with Helki for a similar reason, it's probably easier to see him as an equal than other nobles)

I've also seen this part used as proof of that. "He said that you've got suspicious ulterior motives and that I shouldn't listen to you" as if that's true, but this is past Mithrun, the one that didn't trust anyone and thought ill of all his teammates, ofc he doesn't believe someone would help him without an ulterior motive. This doesn't prove much about her real motivations.

Also before she showed up, Mithrun was being cared for by servants hired by his brother, he isn't someone helpless she has power over, he is still a member of an important Noble family that has a caring brother providing for him, he can do without Milsiril, he had done without her for 20 years before Utaya happened and she quit the Canaries.

This is all to say I think Milsiril is just a white(elf) adoptive mom doing her best, I don't see much of anything nefarious about her or her motivations, she is flawed as all the dunmeshi characters are, she isn't a perfect mom, she isn't an evil mom, she's just a person.

Elves in general also see short lived species as "children" so I imagine this makes her "You'll always be my baby" attitude way worse, she really treats pre-teen/teen Kabru like he's a toddler sometimes. But she also respected him enough to go all out in training him. I think they're a family with everything that entails.

PS: I didn't get much into Interracial adoption since this is something that happens irl too and I don't know much about all the issues that entails, but in the end, in this case, it seems like a net positive for the kids she adopts considering all we see about how she raised Kabru.

[etherealily]

ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ // ​ɴ.ᴊ [2]

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

Hi everyone! Hope you're fine. If not, enjoy being better than Nate (you always were, but this is just confirmation)!

This is part two of a two-part fic. [Queued + not proofread]

[Part 1 here.]

Nate Jacobs x fem!reader. SFW, but discretion advised. Masochism(?), violence, delusion.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : He's in way over his head.

═══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

The shadows of cars passing by his window infuriated him. The sound of McKay's breathing on the ground below him set his teeth on edge. The thought of you getting felt up by some hot rich actor guy made him want to end it all.

"Chris."

A hum.

"McKay."

"Kill yourself, Jacobs.", he whined, turning away from the bed and burying his face in the pillow he'd laid for himself on the ground. Hangovers suck ass.

"I'm going to that fucking party, dude."

"What party?", he groaned, petulantly, eyes still squeezed shut, but he sat up to humour him.

"The one at The Golden."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Y/N? For real, man?"

"We know each other. She'll let me in."

"Oh, after a thirty second interaction you're homies? Chill, man."

"You know Maddy's babysitting job? Well, they hosted some party. And Maddy met Y/N. And now they're, like tight."

"Nah, you're bullshittin'."

"We went to Y/N's birthday."

McKay scoffed, muttering 'cap' under his breath as he reached in the dark for his phone, looking up your name followed by 'birthday'.

Nate rolled his eyes, getting down onto the floor to scroll past all the meaningless rich twinks to find himself and Maddy. "There."

McKay's eyes widened and he laughed in shock. "No fucking way! You could've introduced me, FUCK. She wanted me bad, too."

"You think she wanted you?'

"Fuck yeah, man, you saw how she was look- CHRIST, man, you'd have been invited to our wedding. Our billion dollar wedding."

Nate laughed, smacking McKay's arm a little too hard for it to be joking. "Not if she's out there gettin' felt up by, like, Justin-what's-his-face."

"So you think I have a shot?" Whatever got this guy out of bed and up with him.

"Yeah, man. You might dick her down tonight, if we're fast enough."

McKay leaped up. "What's in it for you, though?", he questioned, as he put on a shirt.

"She's one of Maddy's girlfriends. If she gets roofied, Maddy's gonna kill me."

Lies rolled so easily off his tongue that he had to genuinely wonder when the lessons he learnt in elementary school had eroded away to the back of his conscience.

That seemed acceptable enough for McKay.

Good. Because now he was gonna have to deal with Ray, and he couldn't do that shit alone.

══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ══════════════════

"Man, I don't even know how long it's been seein' you, dawg!"

What the fuck? What the FUCK? McKay and Ray were homies?

"Nate, man, this is my uncle, bro!"

OH. OH FUCK, YEAH!

The hug between the two lasted a little longer and then McKay turned to Ray again. "We can go in, yeah, Uncle Ray? C'mon. Y'ain't gonna ID us, are you?"

"Not you, son, but I can't let him in."

"Why not?"

"He's been banned from the club."

McKay frowned, licking his lips as he looked between Nate and Ray. Fuck. "Nah, nah, you're trippin', Uncle R. Ain't no way. He's, like, nobody, he's never even been here before."

A silent conversation happened between Ray and Nate, one spoken through their eyes, and then Ray huffed. "If anyone asks, you snuck in.", he said, unclasping the barrier so they could walk in. Clearly guilt was a useful blackmail tool.

Nate immediately found you. McKay was still searching.

"Hey, during the party, she spent a lot of time in the bathrooms with her girlfriends, man, maybe you should check there."

McKay shrugged, nodding. "Let me know if you find her here, though, alright?", he asked, patting him on the back before weaving through the crowd towards the bathrooms, aka, the opposite side of the club to where you were.

Was it a dick move? Yeah.

But did he give a shit? No.

He shouldered through the hordes of whores, trying to keep his eyes on you. And before long, he was standing in front of you.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

"Do you wanna fuck McKay?"

"Who the fuck's McKay?"

"McKay. Don't fuck with me, you know him."

"No, dude, who the fuck's McKay?"

"The guy with me in the car tonight, he's my homie, and I don't want him to get his heart broken!"

"Dude- he hasn't even asked me out yet! I'm not breaking his fuckin' heart! Chill, man! It's like you have a fucking vendetta against me, and I don't think that's righ--"

He didn't know why he thought kissing you would smooth your temper over. Okay, no, that was a lie. He knew. He definitely knew. He often used that trick with Maddy to calm her down, but he hadn't remembered that you weren't a girlfriend, and you were entirely well within your rights to-

Yup. You slapped him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Sorry, Jesus, I'm sorry, I'm still a bit tipsy!"

"Who the fuck even let you in? And aren't you with Maddy?"

That he wanted to answer. "NO! No, I'm not! Because someone convinced her I was 'toxic' and 'abusive'!"

"What? Who?"

"YOU!"

"I didn't say that shit! I don't know half of your guys' story, dude!"

He paused. "Bullshit."

"You think Maddy tells me all that shit? I didn't even know you guys were together until my party!"

"So, you weren't out to break us up?"

You scoffed, sipping on your vodka spritz as you glared up at him. "For what purpose?"

"I dunno, you hated me."

"I didn't hate you. I was pissed at you. There's a difference."

His eyes darted around the room for a moment before they landed back on yours. "Sorry. I… sorry."

Ew, ew, ew. He hated saying that shit.

"What the fuck are you even doing back here? Shouldn't you be at home? 'S a school night!"

"I'm in some trouble!", he yelled over the sound of the bass dropping. "I got mugged!"

No, seriously. His elementary school teacher who diligently wrote 'honesty is the best policy' on the board every morning would have an aneurysm.

"You WHAT?!"

He turned out his pockets. "No wallet, no keys, no nothing!"

"Why'd you even come back out?! Did you call the police?"

"Yeah, my buddy McKay did! They're tracking my phone but I need somewhere to crash!"

"What about where I dropped you off? Maddy's?"

Those options would be good if he was actually in that situation. He decided to ignore them.

"Your place?" His alibi was not airtight, but he knew you were too pissed to actually put two and two together right now.

"My place is in New York!"

"What? Where was your party, then?!", he shouted, watching you sip your drink.

"That's my parents' place. Y'know, the one whose floor you covered in champagne and glass?"

"Sorry about that."

You ignored him, instead huffing and taking out your phone.

"Call Henry Donovan.", you instructed, and the sound of ringing emerged.

"Hey, what's up, gorgeous?"

"I'm at The Golden, but a friend needs help, so I gotta cancel, we should reschedule!"

"You got it."

The call ended and Nate's jaw dropped. "You're fucking Henry Donovan?"

"Shut up."

"You're not denying it."

"I'm not confirming it either."

"Schrodinger's dick, then."

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Nate lost sleep that entire night.

He almost lost his mind when he heard echoes of what sounded like plates sliding over each other. Sitting up, he squinted his eyes.

"Did I wake you?", you asked, looking up from your phone.

"No."

"You want pizza?"

Your hand gripped a wine bottle, of which, like, half had been drunk already.

Fuck. He had to be extra careful. He'd never seen you drunk, and he didn't know if you'd be more mellow or more volatile. With his luck, it was the latter.

"It's three in the morning.", he scoffed, removing the blanket before standing up to join you at the island - the fucking beautiful kitchen island - while rubbing his face. "Yes."

You slid the plate of pizza over to him.

"So, how come Mr. Donovan didn't spend the night giving you mediocre sex and LV gifts?"

You snickered, incredulously. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what?"

"What?", he asked, defensively.

"You've got some incredible stereotypes attributed to me, y'know that?"

"C'mon, you're denying it? Okay, listen, you're a total smokeshow, you know that, but the problem with that is that you get cocky about it."

"Do I?"

"Mhm. Like right now. You didn't deny the fact that you're a smokeshow. You're not even pretending to be humble."

"Should I have?"

He frowned, eyes dancing around the room for a second. "No. Would've been obvious."

Silence, a painful one.

"Dude, this is so weird.", you laughed, shaking your head and rubbing your hands over your face. "You're the last person I'd have ever let into my house." He opened his mouth to retort, so you quickly added, "For a second time."

"Okay, but… I mean." he began, swallowing before continuing, "Henry Donovan, really? Look at him, Jesus.'

"Exactly. Jesus."

Uh, no. That's not what you're supposed to be saying. "No, I mean, he's hot and all, but you were right. He's just a dick and abs. What else does he got?"

You frowned, plucking a tomato off and tossing it to the side of the pizza box. "What else do you got?"

"A personality, for one thing? Balls, for the other. Face it, the guy's a dork trapped in a frat boy body, blessed with Daddy's money and Mommy's estate."

"Why do you know so much about him?"

Why did he know so much about him? He wanted to say Maddy, that would make it better, but he knew that if he did, well, you'd definitely catch onto the lie. So he decided bending the truth would be better.

"I looked him up. For some research project for Econ, I had to go through his family's financial history." First part : true. Second part : false, but no regrets.

"Oh. What kinda weird ass Econ proj-"

He waved you off. "My teacher's a psycho. Uh, so, what movie are you shooting in Scotland?"

"We're trying to keep it under wraps, so I'm obligated to not tell you."

"That's no fun. C'mon, okay, wait, at least gimme a hint."

You licked your lips, narrowing your eyes for a moment before letting them dance around the room. "Your best friend, Mr. Donovan will be in it.'

Jesus Christ. He scoffed, leaning his forearms on the counter next to you. "And you thought that was a good investment? He can't act for shit."

"He did well in-"

"Those were all sappy romance movies where the character just had to be hot enough to impress lonely, middle aged women. But isn't this movie a serious one?"

You shrugged, popping open a coke as you sat up on the counter, looking down at him, "Yeah, but he's the popular thing this season. So he'll sell."

"What about the art, though?"

"The art?"

"You're directing this one, too, right? So, what about your artistic vision?"

You stayed silent for a while, and Nate decided that was the perfect opportunity to swoop in with the final blow. "His bad acting will fuck the entire thing up."

"You really think so?"

"This is his, what, third movie? And the first two were bought by Daddy's connections. He didn't exactly get in on his acting chops."

Yes, he was talking him down when he had never seen a single one of his movies, but no, he didn't even feel the slightest bit guilty about it, because honestly, FUCK HENRY DONOVAN.

"It's too late, though. There's no way I can just kick him off the project now."

"Then minimize his role."

The corners of your lips turned downwards. You were considering it. "Are you sure he's that shitty at acting? I mean, I've seen his movies, he isn't that-"

He nodded. "Totally."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you listened to him.

He decided moving closer wouldn't really hurt, yeah? So he did. And you glared at him so hard, he felt like it was the first time he'd ever seen you all over again. An angel staring at dirt under her gaze.

And he fucking loved it. He loved being nothing. Because him being nothing to you was so unnecessarily sexy to him, he almost got a semi because of it.

"What did you mean when you said The Golden wasn't my world?"

You frowned, looking down at him as he sat on the chair with his forearms just barely brushing the side of your knee. "You really need that one analyzed?"

"It doesn't make sense. I fit right in there."

"Nate, if you fit in, you'd have been let in, instead of having to sneak in."

"Okay, so I'm not, like, uber-rich. So what? Most people aren't. But I'm well off. My family owns half of East Highland. Past Kemper, all the apartments are mine."

"Mine owns half the city." As cold and badass of a line that might have been, it was evident to him that that was meant to be gentle, and lacking in conceit.

He sighed. "So if I had money, that would be fine? I could get into The Golden?"

"No. Y- no. It's not just money. Duncan Martin? The little stocky brunette? He's got no money, but it's… his family used to have money, so he-"

"You realize how fucking elitist you sound right now, right?"

You huffed, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "I know, trust me, but it's-"

"It's fucking discriminatory."

"Look! You can't just come to a club for celebrities and ask why they only let in celebrities! It's STUPID! Like, asking why a high school doesn't let in toddlers! It just doesn't make sense! High schoolers should be in high school, toddlers should be in preschool, celebrities should be in The Golden, and you-"

"Should be with the rest of the normie peasants. Right?"

"It's not- I'm not the enemy, Jacobs. Okay? It's just how it is. It's not an attack on you." That was the only thing you'd said the entire night that made even an iota of sense.

Okay. Acceptable.

A while later, he's back with the bullshit. "So. Henry Donovan. You're fucking?"

"What is your problem?"

"He's just not… I dunno. Doesn't seem your type."

You scoffed. "And how would you know my type?"

"I can tell.", he replied, holding your jaw and moving your head from side to side, laughing as you slapped his hand away. "I'm guessing you're not into gays."

"He's not gay!"

"Denial, Madam Celebrity, isn't just a river in Egypt, y'know?", he stated, in an accent he wished he could take back immediately.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and he tilted his head, looking up at you.

He moved even closer, shaking his head. "Trust me. I'm a guy. We've got a radar for this thing. Look, if you put me and him in a room, you'll see I have higher levels of both talent and heterosexuality in my little finger than he has in his whole twink body."

You snickered. "You're a dick."

"And he likes dick."

"Hey, I got kind of a gay vibe from you, too."

His smile dropped momentarily. "What?"

"I dunno, like, I thought you were, at the very least, like, bi. How would you like it if I said denial isn't a river in Egypt to that?"

"I'm not.'

You narrowed your eyes, and he almost scoffed. "I'm talented."

"And gay people aren't talented?"

"They are, but I'm talented in manly shit. Shit that requires testosterone."

"In what, football?"

"Yeah, you should come to our game."

'Hm?"

"This Saturday. Show up."

"I'll try."

He smiled, genuinely, and you almost felt guilty.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that the only reason you'd be there is because the fucking tabloid rumours hadn't actually been put to rest.

People thought you were dating, and you were, like, 100% sure you'd have to have pictures of you guys together just to get people to stop saying you fucked him and then had him beat up.

You had to fake date someone who didn't even know about it.

Which is why, later that night, you texted his ex, asking both permission and advice.

Because if anyone knows how to manipulate, it's Maddy Perez.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

It did not bode well for Nate's mental health that he saw you there in the stands the day he fucked up.

God wasn't real. The universe was fucking with him. And the worst part? McKay had come to watch, too , last game of the season and shit, and he was sitting next to you.

Maybe that's why he fucked up.

Sitting in your hoodie and stupid huge sunglasses. He could kiss you and hit you at the same time. You just had to show up when he fucked up?

"Hey, man, look, I think you did fine, you just gotta--"

"Oh, fuck off, McKay, seriously."

"Hey, no, he's right. I'm pretty sure what that ginger kid over there did was a foul."

No, it wasn't. Nate was just weak. "Yeah, probably."

"'Least you still won. There's an afterparty, right?", you asked.

Thankfully, though, the universe came through in the form of getting you absolutely shitfaced.

"Remind me why you and Maddy used to be friends again?", he asked, watching you adjust the stereo.

"Used to be? We're still-"

"Not anymore.", he muttered, before his hand grabbed your throat to pull you closer to him as he kissed you for the, what, third time in his life? - more than he ever thought would be possible.

For some reason, though, you didn't immediately hit him over the head with the pizza box or knee him in the crotch.

For some reason (alcohol, but Nate liked to think you could handle your liquor, at least for his own conscience), you kissed back.

Good. Fuck Maddy, Fuck McKay, and, honestly, fuck Nate from a month ago. All losers.

He was just about ready to unbutton your shirt, but something told him to wait. And thank fuck he did, because you pulled away almost instantaneously. "Shit."

"What? What?"

"We're so drunk."

We, you'd said. You, for some reason, had thought he was drinking with you. Alright. That's fine. You can think that.

"Agreed."

This was odd, to say the least. He'd never acted drunk before. He'd acted sober, yeah. But drunk was a whole weird thing.

But then again, you weren't exactly just another hookup. You were a celebrity. A star. He'd attained the unattainable.

Anything for you.

So he counted himself lucky to be able to lie next to you and intertwine his fingers with yours after the fact.

"You still going out with Henry?"

You nodded, watching him press kisses to your knuckles.

"You still going with him for the lead of your movie?"

"Mm? Yeah, I mean, it's short notice and he isn't that bad."

He snorted softly, his lips now at your wrist and moving up your forearm. "You've seen much better actors, admit it."

"Yeah, but I can't really--"

He tsked. "Come on. I'm not sure you should alter the role to fit the actor. It's supposed to be the other way around."

"Yeah, but Nate, I really think it's going to rub people the wrong way.", you muttered.

"Fine, cast him. See if I care."

You fell asleep on his arm and he almost kissed your forehead.

Almost.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Regret was the last thing he felt.

Who'd regret anything when in between the legs of an angel?

Of course, he couldn't expect the angel herself to understand this.

So, like a good little sycophant, he dodged everything you threw at him in the aftermath.

"You're a FUCKING predator!", you accused. He dodged the book. Okay, mildly, but-

"YOU FUCKING USED ME AS A REBOUND!" He dodged his wallet. No, but Maddy being pissed was a bonus.

"Get the fuck outta my sight, you-"

"Hey, hey, the sex was good and you know it."

"SO?! I WAS DRUNK AND YOU WERE NOT!"

"Okay, I'd say tipsy."

"You think you're getting off on a technicality?!"

He thought reminding you that he spent hours on his knees in front of you and hence, never actually 'got off' would result in him as a chalk outline.

"Look, there's something there."

You did something to him when you scoffed again this time.

Because he was suddenly under your dirt gaze again, but instead of Ray, it was you beating him up and looking down at him, you being the reason his insides were churning, you wanting him so badly, inside and out, that you couldn't help but spill his blood, just to sneak a glimpse.

You wanted him just as bad. And he could finally tell. You were mad because you liked it.

"Between us?", you asked, snorting as if you didn't feel it, too. He almost grinned at your denial. Cute. "We fucked once, and I was drunk!"

"And instead of drunkenly calling me names, you fucked me."

"Oh, my god, get out, you delusional… fuckass!"

"This is McKay's house."

You scoffed, snatching your clothes from his bedside and stepping over all the passed out kids outside his room.

Huh. Huh. He'd just fucked you. The celebrity.

He'd won the fucking bet.

But still. You'd be back.

They always came back.

═══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You almost laughed as you slammed your car door. Please. Like he was anything more than a deluded dick your friend had dated.

In fact, it was Maddy who told you to try to get the rumours to rest.

"He doesn't give a shit about anyone, why should you care? At least save your career. Come to the game. I'll get press there, too."

And then the press came as far as they were allowed outside his house party.

To his window.

To your back as he kissed you against it.

To your departure the next morning, face filled with rage so that they could capture it.

And 100%, he'd be named the bad guy because the world loved you.

Of course they did, you've never done anything wrong. Ever.

Except this.

But it was his fault.

You'd warned him.

The Golden isn't his world, and you try to overstep your bounds, this is what happens.

You get burned.

[pdfbabe]

Do you still eat pussy?

STOP SAYING I EAT SHEET METAL

[dragonmasteraltais]

Godzilla revealed in the new trailer for Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire.

Bonus of Godzilla and Kong running. 🏃✨️

[gijoe-forever]

[thelostgirl21]

The Little Prince & The Fox

(Part 1, Part 2)

-Quotes from "The Little Prince", Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

[bl-bam-beyond]

MISEINEN: MIJUKUNA ORETACHI WA BUKIYO NI SHINKOCHU (2024, JAPAN)

Episode 4 (Part 2 of 2)

@pose4photoml @just-another-boyslove-blog

[icycoldninja]

MGS2!Raiden x Deadpool-like!Reader headcannons

Note: this is part 2 of another request for @aline1701

-Raiden thought you were insanely annoying the first time he met you.

-He even considered transferring out of that unit just so he could get away from you.

-Turns out, you are far more competent than he initially thought. Despite your goofy behavior, you get the job done.

-You have accuracy that is far better than his, which is incredible since he's been shooting a gun since he could walk.

-It's amazing how you heal immediately after every attack. One would think you were cyborgnetically enhanced, or something.

-You're incredibly agile, too, hopping around the place like gravity doesn't affect you. It's a good thing to have when you're in a fight, but otherwise, Raiden thinks you act like a toddler who ate too much sugar.

-You're immortal, meaning you can't die, meaning Raiden will have no guilt in using you as a human shield.

-Though, there is the issue with you outliving all your loved ones. Maybe someday, there will be a way for both of you to live forever.

-Depsite your flaws and awfully inappropriate jokes, Raiden still thinks you're pretty damn cool.

-What he hates the most about you is when you start running around, teasing your enemies instead of dispatching them.

[ciceroprofacto]

Castling

Manhattan, February 1774 - Part 1

'Tonight's company' entailed what had to be half of the city's nobility. 

If New York had such a thing as aristocrats, this was them. Alexander recognized a handful of familiar faces from Elizabethtown as the Livingston's frequent visitors. He recognized another handful only as familiar names from the balancing sheets of Beekman and Creuger- who were also apparently in attendance.

Both hands full, he occupied himself with listening, observing, nodding along and politely shaking or kissing hands when offered.

Mulligan stayed by his side through countless introductions, gentlemen and ladies in their finest, dresses and embroidery and perfumes and powders. As a student and a tailor they were not these aristocrats' interest for the night, but they made pleasant conversation with them anyway while everyone waited for their meal to be served. All exceedingly polite, imminently important, somewhat familiar, and entirely forgettable.

Miles Cooper was indeed there, along with James Rivington and his wife Elizabeth, but so were Isaac Sears and his wife Sarah Drake, John Lamb and Catherine Jardine, George Clinton and Cornelia, Alexander McDougall and Hanna Botswick, Phillip Schuyler and Catherine van Rensselaer and his business prodigy William Duer, James Duane of the Manhattan Chancery Court with Mary Livingston, his friend James de Lancey, and Lancey’s rival Lewis Morris, Lewis’s brothers Staats, Richard, and Gouverneur who was the first familiar face Alexander had seen and the only person he knew well enough to linger near.

His smile was starting to ache, so he grabbed Mulligan’s wrist for a reprieve.

Mulligan looked at him and then up to Gouverneur who had been attending to Sarah and Sally while their fiancé and husband talked a few paces away. “I’ve been a negligent host to our young friend.” Mulligan confided to the young lawyer. “He’s without a drink,” he said, “Would you-”

“Of course! Come, Alex- we were just congratulating Sally on her recent triumph over the ton.”

Right…Alexander had heard about John Jay’s proposal just a month ago. He had very little direct contact with the Livingstons since he had decided to enroll at Kings- too Anglican for their association- but Kitty kept him involved. Barely eligible for a year and Sally was to be married to one of the brightest lawyers of their generation. He reached to take her hand. “A triumph indeed,” he said, gently brushing his lips to her lace glove.

“It is so good to see you, Alex,” she said, lowering her voice as if it was a confession.

He supposed it was. Calling him anything but ‘Mister Hamilton’ in their present company was closer to scandalous than his attention deserved and she knew it. But, her familiarity did make this stuck-up place feel more-comfortable.

Sally was a darling girl and a tender friend. Though he hadn’t been able to return the compliment, Alexander wasn’t oblivious to the favor she’d paid him while he boarded with her family. Innocent and aimless as it was. He’d felt her gaze at times, watching from the window while he recited latin speeches and poems to himself in the garden. He knew it had little to do with his private performances and far more to do with the vision of him generally- because he felt those same stares when he was simply sitting and reading. But, he would never pity a girl stationed so far above him for her feelings, and when he had disclosed his suspicions, hoping to warn her against them, she assured him that she wanted nothing more than fraternal love from him.

Which he was delighted to give.

Tonight, Sally was a vision in her bright green dress. It made her youth all the more stark, especially in their current company. It was no wonder that Kitty had been glad for Alex to be in New York, here to assist the scheming on her behalf as a brother should.

In the city, where men “could find all sorts of diversions to keep them from marriage until they’re rotting in their boots”, a preeminent bachelor of thirty was not a bad catch at all for a capable hunter like Sally.

Unfortunately, Livingston women were captives of their ton and the rules of courtship, dependent on fathers and brothers for introductions to suitors. Perhaps Alex had lacked the status to make such introductions, but he was a gallant defender. If not the Sword, at least the Shield, capable of subtly repelling the undesirables on her behalf. If the matter had been left up to Gouverneur alone, Kitty worried her sister might end up with a man four times her age.

Jay moved so slowly, there was a time that Alexander had feared she might. The older suitors were the hardest to deter.

Meanwhile, Gouverneur was so sure he’d orchestrated the grand match completely by himself, “All that I’ve seen of him at the practice, he’s kind and dedicated to the right. A true, honest man,” he was saying. “Which are so rare to find these days.”

“True. Women must make their own more often than not,” Sarah Drake Sears agreed. "Honest men that is."

“If only we were allowed to the bar-" Sally said, smiling tauntingly, "better yet, to sit at the bench. It would take a judge to make Gouverneur honest.”

Jay had stepped in closer at his fiancé’s side, near enough to hear her jab. “My ears were itching a moment ago, but now I’m not sure I want to hear why…” he said.

He'd brought Sears along with him to supervise their wives' ribbing. The gracefully-aging sea-captain-made-merchant wasn’t looking at Alexander, and yet still, being so close to the man that practically owned the city’s fealty, Alex's lungs felt tight.

To his credit, Morris had recovered quickly. “I was telling your darling Miss Livingston just how lucky she is to make your match, but now she's got me questioning the very concept of wives."

The glint in Jay's eyes cast a small warning towards Sally not to drive the knife too deep, but Sears was openly amused.

"A tricky one, I agree. Especially with one so quick-tongued and rudely beautiful." It should have been an insult, and from anyone else it might have, but Sally was pressing down a flustered smile against the King's harmless attentions. Sears turned to Morris to say, "Women age like wine. I would advise you to find a match that's been held in reserve a little longer, though there is something to be said for a crisp bite to the pallet."

"I do prefers sweets myself..." Gouverneur said. "But, if the freshest fruit wants to bite my pallet who am I to complain?"

"Incorrigible," Jay's eyes rolled. "I fear for your future wife."

“We all do," Alex heard his own voice tumbling out before he could stop it. "But, he's so far from marrying, I'm sure his future wife hasn’t even been born yet.”

No one laughed.

The joke sunk in slowly and they all just stared.

There was a line somewhere back there and Alexander would very much like to be back on the other side of it.

Gouverneur's lips had parted, uncharacteristically speechless.

Sally's brow had pinched in a mix of confusion and concern. Alex could see the moment his cruel meaning struck her because her face flushed.

Sarah Drake was shaking her head and her husband was struggling to press down a pinched smirk at Gouverneur's expense.

Jay was entirely unamused.

This wasn't Bill Livingston's parlor. If there was one thing that Alexander had learned from his days there, it was that humor was delicate in this echelon of society. Familiarity was fleeting and grace was a thin mask, easily shed. The Livingstons tolerated his rough-hewn edges because his wit could be good fun in private, but in front of their peers...

He didn't say another word. Turned and strode away as fast as his legs would carry him without running.

Mulligan was in his escape path, carefully holding two crystal wine glasses. His eyes widened, and he spun to fall into step beside him until they reached a secluded corner.

Then immediately, "What happened?"

"This is not my scene," Alex said, facing the wall. He pinched his temple, ran his thumb and finger sidelong over his eyes, then squeezed the bridge of his nose as if that might soothe the lingering urge to flee. "I can't play this part and I need to be recast. Immediately. Look- I thought I saw Marinus Willett here," a classmate that he had spotted, talking to the most unfortunately-shaped British officer that Alex had ever seen. "Give him my notes- he can talk to Sears. Make him your pen."

Mulligan's gaze was lost, confused and worried. "Did someone say something?"

"I did! I..." Alex shook his head. He sighed, took a breath, and reached for the wine glass perched in Mulligan's fingers then emptied it in one wide gulp. "I made an ass of myself. Unwittingly cruel to Gouverneur Morris. Deserved or not, it wasn't well done."

"I see..."

"This is not like drawing rooms and dinner talk," he said. "I could explain the Tea Party there. I can dominate the conversation if it pleases a room of friends, but this is something else altogether. These people are...you should have told me what to expect, I don't..." have anything to say.

For a long moment, Mulligan was quiet, just stared at him and then handed him the second glass and took away the first.

The alcohol helped, and it had to be the most flavorful wine Alexander had ever had. He looked at his glass.

The surprise must have shown on his face because, "Lamb's," Mulligan explained. "He provided the wine for tonight. Indisputable taste in vintage. That's why the import business has made him rich."

Alex finished the glass and handed it over.

He should slow down, shouldn't get drunk here, but Mulligan just gave him a sturdy smile. "Y'know, John Lamb's father was a thief- an indentured servant because of it, shipped with his wife to America for burglary just before John was born. Everyone knows it. He'll even talk about it if you ask."

Alex turned back to the parlor to search the crowd for the man in question. Tall, and broad yet he held himself gracefully as anyone else in the room, with round cheeks and a long smiling face. Another titan in human form.

"If this were England, there'd be no accounting for a man out of that background standing in this room, with these men, providing them with his wine. Any gentleman in this room could secure his wines and trade them- could do it easier with far more-ready access to any vintage they'd like to sample. Their tastes have been refined since they were children given their first sips of the grape. But, he's here, and do you know why?"

Alex was far too used to the tailor's roundabout ways of making his point to let himself be this intrigued by the journey.

"Because he can write." Mulligan reached down and fixed some invisible defect in the way Alexander's collar was laying. "His advertisements were poetry. His descriptions alone could make your mouth water more than a draft of the strongest rum. His words made him rich and his wealth made him powerful."

Turning to face the crowd as well, Mulligan put himself beside Alexander and pointed into another group of conversing gentlemen.

"Do you know who that is?"

He shouldn't. Recognizing faces in this room would imply that Alexander had been watching the streets for his social superiors. Gossiping. The whole point of being at King’s was to finish his education quickly and catch up with his peers. But, with a host like Hercules Mulligan, one couldn’t avoid certain stories and when one knew certain stories, one knew to look for certain faces. "Alexander McDougall."

"Mmn, indeed. The Wilkes of America.”

In this house, on the end of John Street, Alexander was standing in the shadow of Golden Hill. Here, just a few years ago, the Sons of Liberty had put up such a stand that certain names were embedded into the city's collective memory, Isaac Sears, John Lamb, Alexander McDougall. They had become symbols of bravery and resistance. More legends than men.

"To the Betrayed Inhabitants' was him," Mulligan said. "So, the force that pamphlet drew out, the energy and power that it stirred, that was his too. It's words, my boy. We all have them, but if you can get yourself the chance to use them wisely, they turn themselves into power."

Alex knew that well enough. Of course he knew- he'd had a taste of it already, just enough to get him into this party, but, "My words are the problem tonight," he said. "When they come from my hands, I can control them...my mouth is another story."

That earned a sympathetic laugh, "No, I suppose that's true. Oratory is quite a different beast from writing, and we both know where your talents lie. The voice is the rudest publisher- no retractions, no edits..."

"I can just write my piece for Cooper and submit a separate one to publish," Alex said.

"You can, and you certainly will, but not without a pseudonym unless you want to lose your course at Kings," Mulligan pointed out. "The point of bringing you here was precisely this. Showing these men the origin of your thoughts so that, when they make it to print- they have no doubts who wrote them."

"I can't speak those thoughts to them if I can't get into a conversation without putting my foot in my mouth."

"Which is why we are going back." Before Alex could protest, Mulligan had a hand on his shoulder, gently steering him back into the crowd towards where Morris and Sears were now talking. "Maybe you can't take back whatever you said, but...you can always amend it. Give it more fabric until it forms a desirable shape..."

Apologize or lie. That was all he was saying, but as they came back to Gouverneur, Sears and his wife, Alexander searched for Sally as they walked- the one person he truly should apologize to. But, she and Jay had moved on to a new circle.

Still. He knew what fabric to sew and how to let it lay, an admission, a concession, sacrifice, apologies and lies. He came to a stop in front of Gouverneur, and as soon as he had his attention, said- "I'm sorry I was rude to you and vulgar." Then he looked at Isaac and Sarah. "You are my host and I was offensive in your home against my own friend. I stepped away from it because I did not know what to say to make that right."

"It's alright, Alex-"

Before Gouverneur could stop him, Alex held up a hand to let him finish.

The young lawyer stepped back and folded his hands.

"It's not alright. I need to confess, the topic of marriage has vexed me since Sally debuted. You are aware of how her family welcomed me when I came from St Croix. Without intrinsic connections, I was their boarder, but more than that, when I had none of my own, they were my family. So, Mister Morris, you must understand, the duty that you were able to fulfill to Sally as a gentleman is one that I envy."

This was not a secret he ever expected to trade, but this performance was working. His small audience was hooked, waiting to be reeled in with the story and feeling. Sarah in particular was studying him with a certain consideration that had him convinced he was transparent to her. Yet still, she was watching.

So, he laid it on thick, "I have no sisters of my own, but I once did."

They were words Alexander hadn't spoken aloud in half a decade. Yet here he was, offering up this piece of himself for the good graces of powerful strangers. It felt worse than groveling.

"She would be a few years younger than Sally now, and I just think...if she were alive, she would be eligible next year. With me as her brother, so distant and untethered in this place, her prospects would be dismal. Girls are held so helpless in this world, and when Kitty asked you to look out for Sally...I resented being helpless too."

Gouverneur obviously didn't know what to say.

So, "I know this doesn't excuse my rudeness. I just thought, if you knew it was envy, you might more easily forgive-"

"Water under the bridge." Gouverneur pulled Alex under his arm and squeezed him by the shoulders tightly, dragging him into the fold.

Alex got a final glimpse of Mulligan's smirk as he slipped off to talk to Willett and the vulture-like officer he was engrossed with.

The conversation became a whirlwind from there.

Gouveneur and Issac were already speaking of politics. They were unrestrained in his company. With the rest of their guests at a safe distance to speak candidly, it took nearly no effort for Alex to learn why it had been so important to recruit a reporter who had seen the state of Boston Harbor.

The Sons of Liberty had been awaiting a similar shipment of tea from the East India Trading Company in New York Harbor for months. Their shipment had, unfortunately, been delayed in arrival, allowing the Bostonian Sons to act first and take center stage, but Sears and McDougall were feverishly planning their own performance.

With time to prepare their case before taking action, they were looking, not just for writers, but for agents on the ground, capable of spreading information through other means besides print and collecting information from corners of the city which would become increasingly inaccessible to them- Anglican corners.

Arguments would have counterarguments, and counterarguments needed prepared defenses.

The servants had finished setting the tables for dinner, and their hosts excused themselves to oversee their meal's arrangement before the procession into the dining room.

It was a show of grandeur, the lords and ladies marching in to their places at the feast. Music and talking and tasting exotic dishes. Knowing how much control the people at this table held over the rabble outside the doors, how much of their scheming was done in quiet conversations and casual dealings, Alexander tried to hear as much as possible while seeming as unassuming as he could. With Mulligan at his side, bragging about fitting the governor for a new suit, asking about a visiting theater troupe's upcoming playbill, joking about the latest cases at the chancellory court, it was easy to fit in.

As a student in one of the most Anglican universities in America, Alexander was understanding the role Mulligan saw for him, but his time in Sears' eyes had been so short, he felt keenly insecure about it.

Throughout the meal, he smiled and strained, not knowing for sure if his place here was an ephemeral illusion. If he would return to his small room above Mulligan's foyer, shed these fancy clothes, return to his books, and be forgotten to everyone he'd met tonight.

He knew he couldn't impress them when the dancing began. But, there was one sure way to know if he had made an impression on Sears...

After the last course was served, parties began rising from their tables and milling about, resuming previous conversations and drawing one another away from the dinning room to go visit the great hall where strings were beginning to play.

As her guests departed, the lady of the house lingered behind to continue directing the servants. Sarah Drake was a thin brunette with a round face and laughter lines framing her eyes.

Alex lingered long enough for her to notice him before he approached. He'd kissed her hand when he was first introduced, but he did it again now. “I was told I shouldn’t call your husband King tonight, but am I allowed to call you Queen?”

She laughed, a delicate, melodic sound, and leaned in to confide, “I'm sure you know there's little love for monarchs here, but if this were a game of chess, I rightfully would be one.”

Alex smiled because she was indulging him and it was delightful. “I agree. I assumed he had you making his most important moves. The wives so often are."

She gave a small laugh, dodging his eyes, but it was confirmed, if not outright. “There are advantages to your sex’s tendency to underestimate mine," she said. "The Queen can always travel further in directions where the King is limited."

"Quite true, and her placement commands the other pieces just as much as his," Alex agreed. Perhaps her husband would not tell him what role he could play, but, "She determines the strength of their defenses, and the best angles for attack. Since she moves in every way, and guards just by her proximity, when you have her protection, you're free to move at will. There is something to be said for a woman's leadership in war."

That finally earned her gaze, locked onto his. "That's a word that will set people on edge if you're not careful."

"I don't think I need to be careful with you...I feel quite protected."

She held his eyes steadily for another moment before breaking away to direct a slave that was carrying a bowl of pastries towards the kitchen to take it out to the great hall instead.

Alexander waited, clasped his hands behind his back.

She returned to him, leaning lower and dropping her voice. "There's an excellent little bakery on Cherry Street. I recommend you purchase their brioche tressée on Wednesday. If you find yourself with inquiries about it... Miss Lottie knows the recipe."

Alex nodded firmly, sealing the deal more resolutely than any handshake between businessmen.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Sentebale: Harry and Meghan are the PROBLEM. Americans are loving watching them crash & burn. 63% say Harry has become a RISK to work with. Part 2 of 2

"The Toxicity Has Followed Harry EVERYWHERE He Goes" Sentebale is no exception. Massive PR Crisis. Jack Royston on Good Morning Britian April 1st 2025 ITV (Delusional Tesa Dunlap loses even more of her mind) part 2 of 2

[rogunetocentral]

Classic X-Men #12 Title: "A Fire in The Night" Credits: Chris Claremont -Writer. John Bolton- Penciler.

[professeurm]

ianto message to his sis 🥹😭

alt text:

the end of the email reads:

So, though I'm rubbish at showing it, I will always love you and you're always in my thoughts.

your Brother Ianto_

[auseyre]

Prompt 8-Favorite Scene part 2

Bits that make me scream

Vegas putting his gun in his non-dominant hand because Pete shot him to keep him from using his gun hand. He expects to die right here but Korn of course won't even let him have that.

Kinn and Pete paralleling, asking Porsche and Vegas not to pull a gun on Korn in exactly the same way.

Pete wanting to run after Vegas immediately but realizing that he has to do this properly to appease Korn and for his own sense of duty to some extent.

Pete thanking Korn for his mercy in not killing Vegas - yeah this one breaks me. Legitimately if any character in the entire series should be the next head of the mob, it's Pete.

I consider this one long, perfect scene.

[bi-the-wei]

Let 👏 Lan 👏 Wangji 👏 Be 👏 Silly 👏