#Rack Power Solutions

[bentecdigital]

Bentec Digital provides affordable rack busway solutions that improve how power is distributed in your building. These easy-to-install systems save money and ensure reliable performance for your electrical needs. Contact us today!

https://bentec.digital/dc-rack-busway/

[powermanagementsolution12]

What are the latest advancements in power management technology?

In today’s fast-paced technological world, effective power management is not just a necessity but a strategic advantage. Companies and engineers alike are always on the lookout for the most efficient and innovative power management solutions to optimize performance, reduce costs, and ensure sustainability. In this blog post, we will explore the latest advancements in power management technology, highlighting key innovations that are shaping the future of energy efficiency.

Smart Grid Technology: Revolutionizing Power Distribution

One of the most transformative advancements in power management technology is the evolution of smart grid technology. Unlike traditional power grids, which are largely one-way systems from power plants to consumers, smart grids use advanced sensors, automation, and data analytics to create a two-way flow of information and electricity.

Key Features of Smart Grids:

Real-Time Monitoring: Smart grids use sensors and communication technologies to provide real-time data on power usage, enabling quick identification of faults and inefficiencies.

Enhanced Reliability: By incorporating self-healing mechanisms, smart grids can automatically detect and reroute power during outages, minimizing disruptions.

Integration of Renewable Energy: Smart grids facilitate the integration of various renewable energy sources, such as wind and solar, by balancing supply and demand more effectively.

These advancements in smart grid technology represent a significant leap forward in power management solutions, offering enhanced control, efficiency, and reliability.

Advanced Energy Storage Systems

Energy storage systems have seen remarkable advancements in recent years, addressing one of the biggest challenges of renewable energy: intermittent supply. Traditional batteries are being complemented or replaced by innovative energy storage technologies that provide greater efficiency and capacity.

Recent Innovations in Energy Storage:

Solid-State Batteries: These batteries use a solid electrolyte instead of a liquid one, offering higher energy density, improved safety, and longer life cycles compared to conventional lithium-ion batteries.

Flow Batteries: Flow batteries, such as vanadium redox flow batteries, offer scalable energy storage solutions with long cycle lives and low degradation rates.

Grid-Scale Storage Solutions: New technologies, like pumped hydro storage and compressed air energy storage, are being developed to provide large-scale energy storage for grid stabilization and load balancing.

These advancements enhance the effectiveness of power management solutions by providing reliable and scalable storage options for both renewable and conventional energy sources.

Internet of Things (IoT) in Power Management

The Internet of Things (IoT) is making a significant impact on power management technology by enabling devices to communicate and interact with one another. IoT-based power management solutions are enhancing the way we monitor, control, and optimize energy usage.

Applications of IoT in Power Management:

Smart Meters: IoT-enabled smart meters provide real-time data on energy consumption, allowing for more accurate billing and better energy management.

Energy Management Systems (EMS): Advanced EMS solutions leverage IoT technology to optimize energy consumption, track performance, and identify opportunities for efficiency improvements.

Predictive Maintenance: IoT sensors can predict equipment failures before they occur, reducing downtime and maintenance costs.

By harnessing the power of IoT, engineers and companies can implement more sophisticated and efficient power management solutions.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) and Machine Learning

Artificial Intelligence (AI) and Machine Learning (ML) are at the forefront of modern power management technologies, offering powerful tools for analyzing data and making intelligent decisions.

AI and ML Applications in Power Management:

Load Forecasting: AI algorithms analyze historical data to predict future energy demands, helping utilities balance supply and demand more effectively.

Fault Detection and Diagnostics: Machine learning models can detect anomalies and diagnose issues in real time, improving system reliability and reducing maintenance costs.

Energy Optimization: AI-powered systems can optimize energy usage in real time, adjusting settings to achieve maximum efficiency and cost savings.

The integration of AI and ML into power management solutions enables more dynamic and intelligent approaches to managing energy systems.

Energy-Efficient Power Components

Another area of significant advancement is the development of energy-efficient power components. These components play a crucial role in reducing energy loss and improving the overall efficiency of power systems.

Recent Developments in Energy-Efficient Components:

Wide-Bandgap Semiconductors: Materials like silicon carbide (SiC) and gallium nitride (GaN) are being used to create power components with higher efficiency and thermal performance.

Advanced Power Converters: New designs for power converters, including more efficient inverters and rectifiers, are reducing energy losses and improving performance.

High-Efficiency Transformers: Innovations in transformer design, such as amorphous steel cores, are enhancing efficiency and reducing energy loss.

These advancements contribute to the development of more efficient and reliable power management solutions.

Decentralized Energy Systems

Decentralized energy systems are another growing trend in power management technology. These systems distribute energy generation closer to the point of use rather than relying on centralized power plants.

Benefits of Decentralized Energy Systems:

Increased Resilience: Distributed systems are less vulnerable to large-scale outages, as local generation sources can continue to operate independently.

Improved Efficiency: Decentralized systems reduce transmission losses by generating energy closer to the point of consumption.

Local Energy Solutions: These systems support the integration of renewable energy sources and can be tailored to meet the specific needs of local communities.

Decentralized energy systems are a key component of modern power management solutions, offering more resilient and efficient energy options.

Green Technologies and Sustainability

As the focus on environmental sustainability grows, green technologies are becoming a central aspect of power management solutions. These technologies aim to reduce the environmental impact of energy production and consumption.

Green Technologies in Power Management:

Energy-Efficient Building Systems: Innovations in HVAC, lighting, and insulation technologies are reducing energy consumption in buildings.

Waste-to-Energy Technologies: Processes that convert waste materials into energy are providing sustainable alternatives to traditional waste disposal methods.

Carbon Capture and Storage (CCS): CCS technologies capture carbon dioxide emissions from power plants and industrial processes, preventing them from entering the atmosphere.

These green technologies represent a commitment to sustainability and environmental stewardship in power management solutions.

Blockchain Technology for Energy Transactions

Blockchain technology is emerging as a novel solution for managing energy transactions and ensuring transparency in power management systems.

Blockchain Applications in Power Management:

Peer-to-Peer Energy Trading: Blockchain enables secure and transparent peer-to-peer energy trading, allowing consumers to buy and sell excess energy.

Smart Contracts: Blockchain-based smart contracts automate and enforce agreements for energy transactions, reducing the need for intermediaries.

Energy Data Security: Blockchain provides a secure and immutable ledger for tracking energy usage and transactions.

By leveraging blockchain technology,power management solutions can offer new levels of transparency, efficiency, and security.

Conclusion

The field of power management technology is rapidly evolving, with numerous advancements reshaping the way we generate, distribute, and consume energy. From the development of smart grids and advanced energy storage systems to the integration of AI, IoT, and green technologies, these innovations are driving the future of energy efficiency and sustainability.

[coloredpowerdistribution]

How do industry standards influence colored power distribution?

A reliable and efficient power supply is paramount for any operation, from data centers to industrial facilities. A significant advancement in this domain is the implementation of coloured power distribution systems. As leaders in this field, Netrack takes pride in offering top-tier coloured power distribution solutions backed by stringent industry standards. This article delves into how these standards influence the industry and why Netrack is the premier manufacturer in this space.

The Concept of Coloured Power Distribution

Coloured power distribution uses colour coding within power systems to enhance safety, efficiency, and manageability. This method involves assigning specific colours to different power circuits, cables, and outlets, making them easier to identify and manage. By doing so, organizations can reduce the risk of errors, streamline maintenance processes, and enhance overall operational safety.

The Role of Industry Standards

Industry standards play a crucial role in shaping the design, implementation, and management of coloured power distribution systems. These standards ensure the systems are safe, reliable, and compatible with other equipment and technologies. They provide guidelines on various aspects, including colour-coding schemes, installation practices, and performance criteria.

Safety and Compliance

One primary reason for adhering to industry standards is safety. Industry standards, such as those set by the National Electrical Manufacturers Association (NEMA) and the International Electrotechnical Commission (IEC), establish protocols to mitigate these risks. For coloured power distribution, these standards dictate the specific colours for different types of circuits and power levels, ensuring that there is no ambiguity during installation or maintenance.

Enhancing Efficiency

Efficiency in power distribution is critical for minimizing downtime and maximizing productivity. By following industry standards, coloured power distribution systems can be designed to facilitate quick identification and troubleshooting of power issues. This is particularly important in environments like data centers, where even a minor power disruption can lead to significant losses. Standardized colour coding helps technicians quickly locate and address problems, reducing downtime and maintaining operational continuity.

Interoperability and Compatibility

Adherence to industry standards ensures that coloured power distribution systems are interoperable with other equipment and technologies. This is crucial for organizations that rely on legacy and modern systems. Standardized colour-coding schemes ensure all components work seamlessly together, reducing the risk of incompatibility issues.

Netrack: Leading the Way in Coloured Power Distribution

At Netrack, we pride ourselves on being at the forefront of the coloured power distribution industry. Here's why Netrack is the go-to choice for coloured power distribution solutions.

Superior Quality and Innovation

Netrack's coloured power distribution products are designed with the highest standards of quality and innovation. We utilize the latest technologies and materials to ensure our products are durable, reliable, and efficient. Our advanced manufacturing processes and rigorous quality control measures guarantee that every product we deliver meets or exceeds industry standards.

Comprehensive Product Range

We offer a comprehensive range of coloured power distribution products tailored to meet our customers' diverse needs. Our product lineup includes colour-coded cables, circuit breakers, distribution boards, and power outlets designed to enhance safety, efficiency, and manageability.

Customization and Flexibility

Understanding that different industries have unique requirements, Netrack provides customizable solutions to meet specific needs. Whether it's a bespoke colour-coding scheme or specialized installation requirements, we work closely with our clients to deliver tailored solutions that align perfectly with their operational demands.

Commitment to Sustainability

Sustainability is a core value at Netrack. We are dedicated to minimizing our environmental impact through eco-friendly manufacturing processes and sustainable product designs. Our coloured power distribution products are designed to be energy-efficient and recyclable, contributing to a greener, more sustainable future.

The Impact of Coloured Power Distribution

The adoption of coloured power distribution systems has profoundly impacted various industries. Here's how different sectors benefit from this innovative approach.

Data Centers

In data centers, where power management is critical, coloured power distribution systems enhance operational efficiency and reliability. By using distinct colours for different power circuits, data centre operators can quickly identify and manage power sources, reducing the risk of outages and improving uptime.

Industrial Facilities

Safety is paramount in industrial settings. Coloured power distribution systems help workers easily distinguish between different types of circuits and power levels, reducing the risk of accidents and enhancing overall workplace safety. This is particularly important in environments where multiple power sources and high-voltage equipment are in use.

Commercial Buildings

For commercial buildings, coloured power distribution simplifies maintenance and troubleshooting. Facility managers can quickly identify circuits and address issues without extensive downtime, improving operational efficiency and reducing maintenance costs.

Industry Standards and Future Trends

As technology continues to evolve, industry standards for coloured power distribution are also advancing. Emerging trends such as smart grids, renewable energy integration, and IoT (Internet of Things) influence the development of new standards and practices.

Smart Grids

The advent of smart grids is transforming how power is distributed and managed. Coloured power distribution systems, when integrated with smart grid technologies, can provide real-time data and analytics, enabling more efficient power management and predictive maintenance.

Renewable Energy Integration

With the increasing adoption of renewable energy sources, coloured power distribution systems are becoming more complex. Industry standards are evolving to address the integration of solar, wind, and other renewable sources into traditional power grids. These standards ensure that coloured power distribution systems can efficiently manage the variable nature of renewable energy.

IoT and Advanced Analytics

Another emerging trend is the integration of IoT devices and advanced analytics into power distribution systems. These technologies enable real-time monitoring and management of power distribution, enhancing efficiency and reliability. Coloured power distribution systems, guided by industry standards, are well-positioned to leverage these advancements for improved performance.

Conclusion

Coloured power distribution systems, guided by stringent industry standards, revolutionize how power is managed across various industries. At Netrack, we are proud to be in charge of this innovative field, offering top-tier products that enhance safety, efficiency, and manageability. Our commitment to quality, customization, and sustainability sets us apart as the best manufacturers in the coloured power distribution industry.

As we look to the future, Netrack will continue to innovate and adapt, ensuring that our products remain at the cutting edge of technology and industry standards. Whether operating a data center, industrial facility, or commercial building, you can trust Netrack to deliver the best coloured power distribution solutions tailored to your needs. Experience the Netrack difference and join us in building a safer, more efficient, and sustainable future.

[energynews247]

Radial Power Connects with Unirac for Solar Racking Solutions

Radial Power, a privately owned developer, owner and operator of distributed clean energy assets, has formed a strategic partnership with solar racking manufacturer Unirac as the exclusive provider of solar racking solutions for Radial Power’s national portfolio of sustainability projects. By utilizing Unirac’s expertise in engineering, Radial Power can ensure seamless and efficient project…

[ppomumgranatum]

the dance of love's sweet potion.

also available on Ao3

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

tags: fluff, one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader, jealousy, protective

word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MAJOR HEADCANNON, the books and the potions are all in my head just for the sake of this story, characters are in their 7th year, I finally caved and wrote the cliche protective and jealous seb and i fucking love it

Summary: When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

Notes: I was craving some fluff, so a fluff was created ❤️

Revulsaroma is a powerful potion that demands careful handling and discretion. Designed for specific situations where deterring unwanted advances or repelling individuals is necessary, its potency requires utmost caution. Ingredients: • 3 drops of essence of skunk cabbage • 2 crushed doxy wings • 1 teaspoon of powdered Boomslang skin • 4 ounces of extract from a Devil's Snare vine • 1 pinch of powdered Basilisk fang • Hair from the person brewing the potion

You carefully traced your finger along the intricate words laid out in the book you had kept from your parents’ dusty collection on potion making and meticulously followed the instructions. Taking advantage of the quiet after hours, you used the station at potion class to get on with your mission.

You’re not a pro in potion making per se, but the way you precisely measure out ingredients, stirring the potion with such poise, you feel as skilled as Professor Sharp– if he was plagued with a horrible disease of a red-haired boy goes by the name of Leander Prewett. 

For weeks, Leander had been following you around so relentlessly and constantly asking you out. It was cute at first but now it was starting to feel like pure harassment. Despite numerous rejection, it didn't seem like he’s the type of guy who understood the concept of boundaries and your patience was wearing extremely thin. 

You remembered an old potion you once came across when you were younger– Revulsaroma, a repelling potion. You figured it was time to revisit those pages since you’re in a dire need for a solution. 

You stirred the components inside of your cauldron with a pinch of determination, distress, and a lot of rage. The earthy and putrid notes filled the air and it was probably going to stick with you for a while but you surely hoped this was going to be worth it.

When the potion finally came to completion, you carefully transferred it to a pumpkin juice bottle to trick Leander into drinking it.

“Alright, that looks good.” You sighed in relief as you put the bottle down and stared at the securely stored dark liquid with pride, knowing that soon you’d be able to take a break from the unwanted attention. At least for a while just until you could figure out a permanent way to stop him, 

You proceeded to clean up your station and returned some tools that you took from the inventory room, making sure that everything was back in its rightful spot. Because Merlin knew that you couldn’t take another chide from Professor Sharp about the importance of being responsible and organised.

Just when everything was about to be restored to its pristine state, you heard a loud retching coming from the other room. When you rushed outside, you saw your bestfriend, hands desperately grasping the edge of your station, body racked with violent gagging, and breath ragged in a grave attempt to gasp for air.

“Sebastian?” You exclaimed while rushing to his side, “Are you alright?”

“Came to—bleughh—look for you,” Sebastian managed to say in between his guttural heaves.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice trailed off when you saw your pumpkin juice bottle collapsed and empty. Right at that moment, your eyes widened at the realisation that Sebastian just drank your Revulsaroma. “No, no, no. You bloody, bloody idiot!” 

Quickly, you summoned water from an empty jar that you found nearby and gave it to Sebastian who was still fighting the disgusting taste stuck in his throat.

Gulping down the entire water in a matter of milliseconds, Sebastian attempted to catch his breath, “Your pumpkin juice— is expired, by the way.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, Sebastian!” You ran your fingers through your hair in distress. What was already a pretty stressful situation just got a whole lot worse. 

“What?” He was truly not getting your frustration. He gagged once more, recoiling whatever last bit of that disgusting liquid he's tasting.

“That’s not pumpkin juice!” You scowled and gestured abruptly.

“What is it, then? Poison?” Every muscle on his face seemed to tensed up, still.

“Why would you fucking drink that? It was meant for Leander.” You grunted.

His grimace was then taken over by disbelief for a moment, “Gods, killing Leander is a bit extreme, don’t you think? Even for me.”

“No—ugh,” You sighed heavily, feeling totally overwhelmed. Slumping on your station, you rested your head on it "This is bad. It's really bad."

“You're freaking me out. What is it?”

You lifted your head from the table, meeting his concerned gaze with a weary expression.

“It’s a potion called Revulsaroma. It is supposed to repel whoever drinks it.” You admitted.

Sebastian was still focused on getting the foul taste out of his tongue, but his eyes were quickly narrowed in the scrutiny of your last sentence, “And why exactly are you trying to repel Leander?”

Catching Sebastian's look, a twinge of guilt pricked at you. You winced inwardly, realising you'd never really spilled the beans to Sebastian about the whole Leander debacle. Partly because you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea and thinking that there was anything romantic going on between you and the Gryffindor boy. 

The line on your relationship with Sebastian had always been blurry, if you could be honest. You’re obviously friends—best friends—but at the same time, the chemistry between the two of you would be such a waste to stay as friends.

You’d occasionally exchange innocent flirting, teasing each other and bantering in a way that felt more than platonic. You couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach that fluttered every time he smiled at you and the way you felt when he complimented you.

Things had been going very well lately, and you'd like to think you had a shot to turn it into something more.

But now, he’s consumed the one thing that was going to seal the chance you have with him. Because whatever feeling he was going to feel, the potion was supposed to make him feel it so strongly. 

The thought of losing Sebastian terrified you.

“That’s not what we’re supposed to be focusing on.” You diverted the topic and reached out to your book, checking for things to look out for. Your eyes trailed the ink that explains the detail of the potion.

You noticed Sebastian had shifted his weight from the corner of your eye, moving somewhat uncomfortable in his feet.

"But what does that mean for me?" he asked.

You sighed, trying to collect your thoughts. "According to the potion's effects, you're supposed to start feeling aversions towards me," you explained, gesturing towards the brewing cauldron with a frustrated gesture. "and I have no idea how to reverse it.”

Your voice was heavy with disappointment. The same emotion was written all over Sebastian's face. There was silence as you both processed the fact that there was no quick fix to this mess.

“So, I’m supposed to hate you? Just like that?”

“That’s kind of the whole point of the potion.”

Sebastian's eyes scanned the cluttered laboratory, a look of resignation settling over his features. "Well, this is just great," he muttered under his breath. Sebastian's complexion turned paler, a nauseous expression crossing his features, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Sebastian stood there, his hand pressed against his stomach, unsure if the wave of nausea washing over him was solely due to the potion's effects or the unsettling thought of hating you.

But then he felt his body teetering on the brink of collapse. You grappled his arm to provide support but his condition worsened in an instant and he started to fall backwards. Using every ounce of your strength, you were struggling to keep him upright because damn this boy was heavy. And when his weight eventually bore you down, you lowered him down gently.

There was no response even after you called out his name and shook his body. His breathing was laboured and you were panicking. You didn’t know the potion would be this strong.

Spotting a group of students who were passing by outside of the classroom, you called out to them for assistance. Sebastian was then taken to the infirmary and was given proper treatment by Nurse Blainey.

You had to awkwardly explain what caused the brunette to lose his consciousness. Given the fact that you were practising and using potions for non-study purposes, disciplinary action was necessary and you were required to attend detention tomorrow.

When you returned to your room that night, all you did was shift around in your bed. Spending the entire night thinking about Sebastian and how he will wake up in the morning hating you.

But for now, all you could do was wait.

 - 

When the sun rose, you were quick to get back on your feet and head towards the infirmary to check on Sebastian before breakfast started. But to your surprise, he was no longer there. Nurse Blainey said he woke up all energetic and there were no signs of any disturbance so she allowed him to get on with school.

You were slightly relieved to know that Sebastian was feeling better. Although the question of his feelings towards you remained unknown.

So you ventured on, heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Moving along with a crowd of students who were also making their way to the venue you suddenly bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” You glanced up to see it was no other than Sebastian, “Hey, I was looking for you.”

You’ve caused some traffic considering you abruptly stopped in the middle of a walkaway crowd. Some were bumping into you and muttered under their breaths in annoyance. It was a horrible time to be upsetting people—hungry and grumpy people.

So Sebastian dragged you away from the crowd. You were caught a little bit off guard at the sudden tug on your elbow. Your feet were almost stumbling around trying to catch up to Sebastian’s pace.

“Are you insane?” Was the first thing he said when you found a quiet little corner away from the bustling people.

Your stomach clenched. 

This was it. 

The memories you shared for the past two years dramatically flashed before your eyes— the adventures, the late night studies, the stupid unfunny jokes he made but you laughed at them anyway— fuck. 

This was it.. he hated you.

“Why would you tell Nurse Blainey the truth about everything?” He sounded quite aggravated. Unexpectedly, it was not for the reason you thought it would be— albeit he should be angry towards you for no reason at all considering the potion.

Your mouth gaped open but you were struggling to find the words. 

"You could've just said it was a bad batch for our assignment," He explained. "You didn't have to get detention for it."

“What?” You finally managed to sputter out.

“Blainey said she gave you detention.” He added, “I feel bad.”

You can’t feel bad for someone you hate unless they fall into lava and viciously die or something. Because to feel bad meant having empathy, and to feel empathy meant he cared, which meant he didn’t hate you and the potion never worked.

Right?

“So you don’t hate me?” You asked carefully.

His tensed brows gradually softened as realisation dawned on him. He was so focused on you that he never really thought of what the potion was supposed to make him feel.

“I don’t, actually.” He sounded relieved and as were you upon hearing his confirmation, “I guess the potion never worked after all.”

Relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a hot day. Though you started wondering if the potion didn’t work on Sebastian, it might’ve not worked on Leander either. Which meant you were back to square one, trying to figure out how to deal with his annoying arse. 

But it was a problem you didn’t want to think about too much at the moment. You were just glad your friendship with Sebastian remained intact despite the unfortunate mishap.

“So what did Blainey assign you to do?”

“She said Scribner has been fussing over some organising issues.” You grumbled, “She told me to give her some assistance after classes.”

“Yikes.” Sebastian said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You retorted, “Are you really feeling alright?”

“As normal as I can be.” He smiled reassuringly, “Though, you still haven’t told me why you were trying to repel Leander.”

“He just..” You hesitated for a moment,  annoys me.” 

Technically, you didn’t lie. Leander’s entire antics had been nothing but annoying to you. Sebastian only pursed his lips and nodded. Be that as it may, his eyes were looking at you rather dubiously. But he didn’t pry further.

–

After breakfast, you had some time to kill before class started. You found yourself seeking solace in the quiet lounge area near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. With a book on Revulsaroma in hand, you sought answers in its pages that you might have missed. It explained further about its history and the past research on this potion. As you delved deeper, a particular section caught your eye that described a crucial detail—

The Revulsaroma potion's effectiveness in repelling a drinker is contingent upon the absence of strong positive emotions towards the potion-maker. If the drinker harbours genuine affection for the potion-maker, the potion's repelling properties may be nullified or significantly weakened. This phenomenon is attributed to the potent influence of positive emotions, which can act as a counterforce against the potion's intended repulsion.

Before you could dwell on it further, Leander plopped beside you out of nowhere and casually draped his arm around your shoulder, interrupting your thoughts.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted you with a smile so charming if he wasn’t so pushy about it you could see yourself giving in to his cheesy escapades. You subtly shifted away from the sudden proximity, hoping he would take the hint some time.

“Good morning, Leander.” You replied politely.

He seemed to be undeterred by your subtle attempt because he leaned in closer, “So, I was thinking, with the weather getting nicer and all, let’s take a trip around the highlands.” He sounded so enthusiastic for a suggestion that’s so inappropriate, “We could explore the beautiful scenery. My family has this cosy little cottage just outside of Keenbridge that we can use. What do you think?”

You scrunched up your nose because it sounded bloody ridiculous, “A bit intimate, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong with a little bit of intimacy?”

“Nothing wrong with it, of course. If you’re a couple.”

“Oh, come on. You’ll love it.” Leander’s enthusiasm didn’t waver, if anything he sounded even more excited. 

“It’s too much—”

He interrupted you with a tone so persuasive, “Okay fine, how about just a simple Hogsmeade date, then?”

You sighed at his persistence. It’s really getting too much. 

“Leander, it’s really sweet but—”

Suddenly, your conversation was interrupted by a looming shadow casted over the both of you. Glancing up, you saw Sebastian standing there with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“I’m going to count to three, Prewett, and you are going to stand up and get your arse the fuck out of here.”  He demanded.

“What are you going to do about it if I don’t?” He was annoyed  by Sebastian's sudden intervention.

The brunette’s gaze was focused on the way Leander had his arms wrapped around your shoulder and the way his hand was caressing your arm at the same time. Then he stared dead into Leander's eyes, “You don’t want to find out.”

Somehow you found yourself caught in the middle of the sudden hostility. 

“Sebastian.” You warned him softly.

“Ignore him.” Leander didn't care for the threat. But Sebastian wasn’t having it and when Leander was ready to ignore him and continue his conversation with you, Sebastian grabbed him by his collar that it forced Leander to stand up, and he dragged the red haired boy away and slammed his back into a nearby pillar.

“I told you to fucking stand up and get out of here.” Sebastian scowled.

“Get your filthy hands off of me.” Leander attempted to shrug off Sebastian’s grip but it only grew tighter.

“Then you better get yours away from her.” His voice was so low and menacing. You had no idea what possessed him, because as aggressive as Sebastian could get he wouldn’t be so quick to resort to anything so recklessly physical unless it’s necessary— at least not anymore.

“Are you both out of your minds?” You stood beside the conflicting boys, “Stop being children or you will get into trouble.” The confrontation was drawing more attention from onlookers, and you could sense the tension rising. 

A crowd started gathering around to see what the fuss was about. Students nearby paused and turned their heads, curious about the commotion. Whispers and side conversations began to buzz through the group as they watched the confrontation unfold.

You felt a bit awkward with the sudden attention. The whole thing was getting more dramatic than you'd anticipated, and you just wanted to find a way to sort it out before it got worse.

“What is your problem, Sallow?” 

“You are the problem, Prewett. Can’t you take the hint?”

“It’s none of your business.” The Gryffindor boy was defensive— as anyone would be if someone just randomly shoved you into the wall and told you what to do. 

“It becomes my business when you decide to harass her.”

“You are making a scene. Stop it.” You warned them, hoping they would steer away from the conflict. But they were still too busy with each other.

“Trying to be a big hero, aren’t you? Protecting her?” Leander was clearly taunting him. Sebastian wouldn’t usually allow himself to be bothered by whatever nonsense Leander would do. But this time was different,  “She doesn’t need you. She can make her own decision.”

“And she did, when she said no.” Sebastian retorted sharply, “So back off.”

“If you are so worried about me taking her out then you should’ve asked her first. Don’t come here and act all heroic because you missed your chance.” Leander fired back, “If you weren’t such a coward—-”

There went the last cell of Sebastian’s brain that allowed him to think rationally when he decided to punch Leander in the face, sending the red-haired boy stumbling and his nose bleeding. 

“Sebastian!” You stepped in between them, trying to push Sebastian back behind the line he just crossed. His eyes were glaring and breaths were rather ragged from the anger, “What the fuck are you doing?”

After being punched unexpectedly, Leander's pride and dignity were hurt. He wouldn't tolerate being attacked without retaliating. He mustered all of his anger and frustration to punch Sebastian with all of his force. 

But before he could, Sebastian struck again, landing a second punch on his face. Leander stumbled backwards again, but this time he was quicker to get back on his feet and lunged forward, swinging his fists wildly. 

Sebastian was able to dodge a few of his blows, but Leander managed to land a couple of powerful punches on Sebastian's cheek. 

Sebastian stepped back, his face red from pain and anger. Now the two of them had no choice but to fight, and you had no choice but to look for some help. Luckily, it wasn’t long for you to reach Professor Hecat, because when you returned to the brawl, Leander was already pinned to the floor with Sebastian on top of him, landing more punches.

Professor Hecat swiftly casted a spell that immediately shoved both of them away from each other. 

The two boys stood there with battered faces and were later sent to the same detention as you.

You had no desire in conversing with idiots, so when the three of you shared the space on one of the library aisle, organising books, you gave all your might to ignore them, especially Sebastian.

You thought he’d left his impetuous behaviour back in the catacombs two years ago, but clearly you were wrong. The way you aggressively shoved books into places allowed Sebastian to notice that you were furious.

“I know you’re angry at me.” He said, breaking the silence.

“Oh really? Didn’t think you’d notice. I was being subtle.” You replied sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what had gotten into me.” His voice was soft but outright, “You know I don't fight muggle-style.”

You remained cold. There was nothing about his apology that made you feel better. So you continued to ignore him and he tried to speak up again.

“Can we talk?” He pleaded but you ignored him. You picked up a stack of books and moved to the next aisle to shelve them in their proper places.

Sebastian followed you behind, not backing down, “I’m really, really, sorry.”

He seemed genuinely apologetic, but you were reluctant to give in. After all, his actions had caused this entire mess and resulted in the two boys getting detention.

You didn’t want to argue with him, but you couldn’t resist making a point.

“Tell that to Leander and his broken nose.”

Sebastian let out a scoff, “I’m not sorry about that.”

“Seriously Sebastian? You hit him first. He just reacted.” You turned to face him this time.

"He was harassing you," Sebastian defended himself, "I had to do something."

"Did you have to punch him in the face? Repeatedly?”

“Why are you defending him?” His tone was rising, "What do you expect me to do? Just stand by and let him flirt with you?"

“What is so wrong with that?”

“Because—” Then he stopped himself. Eyes flustered and flicked between yours like he was trying to gather his own thoughts. Then he let out a frustrated sigh,  “Leander is a self-oriented, self-indulgent, arrogant, selfish, insufferable jerk.”

You shook your head in disbelief and stared dead at him in the eye, “Well, right now it sounds like you were just describing yourself, Sebastian.”

Before you could say anything else, you left him alone in the aisle and this time he didn’t follow you.

—

It was Saturday morning, and while you had no classes to attend, you were still stuck with detention for a portion of the day. Not only did this eat into your weekend leisure time, but you also had to spend it without talking to Sebastian.

You sighed as you placed books somewhere in the corner of the library right where they belonged. 

Couldn’t help but think that spending your weekend somewhere in the castle, perhaps the undercroft, reading books and being alone together with Sebastian was where you belonged. 

Time sure felt lonely without his presence.

Then as if he could read your mind from miles away he showed up, “Do you like Leander?”

Shocked and confused by the sudden question you turned to find Sebastian standing at the end of the aisle.

His face was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, a visible reminder of the fight he had gotten into with Leander. A purplish bruise marred his cheek, and a small cut above his eyebrow was still fresh. Despite his battered appearance, his eyes were focused intently on you, filled with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked.

“I spent the entire night thinking about you. I thought maybe you like Leander, because why did you defend him so much yesterday?” He rambled.

You opened your mouth to say something but Sebastian wasn’t finished.

“But then I thought, if you liked him, why did you want to repel him with the potion?” He continued, “And why did you reject him when he asked you out? Five times, over the past month.”

You opened your mouth again, but this time every single word you have learned seemed to have fallen over your head because not a single thing came to your mind.

There were two things that surprised you.

One, Sebastian spent the entire night thinking about you.

Two, Sebastian knew that Leander had been asking you out.

And your brain did not know which one to stress about first.

“You knew about Leander?” You finally said.

“We share every class everyday. You don’t think I’d notice?” He replied with another question, “He wasn’t subtle about it either. Was I not supposed to know?”

You fell quiet, unsure of what to say next. The more you opened your mouth, the more you found yourself with nothing to say. 

Sebastian waited for your response, but when it did not come, he continued, “Why did you keep rejecting him?”

You shrugged, slightly flustered, “Simply because I don’t want to go out with him.”

“Why did you not tell me about him, then?”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Sebastian stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe your answer.

“It was pointless,” Your tone was rising slightly, “It’s not like I would ever date Leander. I wasn’t even giving him a second thought. So It doesn’t matter.”

Sebastian was silent for a beat before he spoke again. “It matters to me.”

Your pulse raced, and the air suddenly felt tighter.

Sebastian was staring at you, his eyes intent and penetrating. The silence stretched on, and you had to force yourself to look him in the eye

“Everything about you matters to me. You’re my best friend. We’re supposed to share everything, right?” He added, “Isn’t that what best friends do?”

As you stood there, guilt was eating you inside out. Your decision to leave him in the dark unexpectedly hurt him more than you thought. The look in his eyes was so unfamiliar you couldn’t pinpoint his emotion.

He took a step closer.

“Why do you care so much? It’s just Leander.”

“Don’t you get it?” He said softly, “It’s not about Leander. It’s about the fact that he’s been asking you out, flirting with you relentlessly, being so close with you.. in a way that is supposed to be only for me.”

You stood there, stunned. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and you felt a mix of shock and confusion wash over you.

Sebastian took another step towards you, his gaze steady and unbreaking, and it was piercing through your soul.

“It’s supposed to be just for me” He repeated the phrase as if he was talking to himself. The look in his eyes was intense, and you could feel how important this was to him.

A moment passed until you realised that you should respond. The longer you stayed silent, the worse it felt. So you spoke up, “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” He simply replied.

His response set your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat.

“I was supposed to hate you, but instead I woke up that morning in the infirmary and I couldn’t be more sure that I am utterly and completely in love with you.” His voice dropped, “And when I saw you with Leander and hearing all the things that he said, I meant it when I told you I had no idea what had gotten into me but all I knew was every single cell in my body was on fire.”

You thought for sure your heart would explode as all of this sunk in. You had expected anything but a confession. Your heart was beating so fast and hard that you had to concentrate on breathing, or else it felt like you couldn't breathe.

“I spent the entire night thinking about all of the time we've spent.” He added, “I can't stop thinking about the sound of your laughter. The way you'd still genuinely laugh at the most unfunny joke I would tell. Or how your usual bright eyes would fall into a deep immersion when you read. And the way your delicate finger hovers over the edge of a page, turning it over.”

A smile tugged on the corner of Sebastian's lips as he recalled every little detail about you that only he would care about. The beat of your heart went faster with each syllable that came out of his mouth and every nerve in your body was shaking.

“I always wonder how the touch of those fingertips would feel on my skin,” There were so many things he wanted to say to you. Every detail of you that made him so desperately in love, “and how perfect your fingers would be intertwining with mine.”

For a moment, you were one-hundred percent sure this was all a dream. Because everything around you seemed so blurry and all of the sudden everything felt surreal. But when Sebastian took another step closer, and another until he was close enough to grab your hands and intertwine your fingers together, the haze dissipated. The way his touch alerted every single nerve in your body, you knew that this was real— he was real and he was in love with you.

The two of you stood there, inches apart, staring at each other with your emotions overflowing.

“We belong together.” You could see that his intensity and raw emotion was getting the better of him. His words were coming out quick and sudden, “I should’ve asked you out long before Leander did. Just another stupid mistake I made.”

He inched closer and closer until you felt Sebastian's breath on your lips, and your body trembled in anticipation. You took a deep breath and let yourself fall into the moment.

“You could’ve been too late, you know?” You whispered.

“Am I?”

You shook your head and smiled against his lips, “No, you’re not. I’ve been stupidly waiting for you.”

Sebastian's voice was soft and tender as he spoke again, “I’m glad we’re both stupid enough, then. And for many other things that make me glad you're finally mine."

“Even the potion?” You smirked.

“Especially the damn potion.” A smile spread across Sebastian's face.

Your breaths were laced with desire, and your thoughts went to the first kiss between the two of you were going to share. It felt surreal to have arrived at this moment that you had both anticipated for so long.

Your lips were close enough to touch. Your hearts were beating so loudly. And in this moment, it felt like a moment out of time.

When his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away and everything else faded into the background. It was everything it had built up to be—hot and passionate and exciting.

You kissed him deeply and all was right with the world. Sebastian's hands wrapped around your back, and yours around his neck. 

Your senses were all focused on Sebastian, on the kiss and the way he made you feel. This was what you had been waiting for, and it was everything you dreamed of and more.

When you pulled away, your eyes were locked and you found yourselves smiling uncontrollably. There was nothing left to feel awkward or unsure of, and it felt as if a weight had been lifted.

Sebastian brushed his fingers through your hair. You were finally getting your happiness.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips.

“I love you, too.” you replied softly, brushing your noses together.

You spent the rest of the day making out in the deepest corner of the library, neglecting your detention. And when Madam Scribner found the two of you some time later, all dishevelled, you were granted another detention time.

But neither of you cared. Because it was all worth it.

In an extremely rare case, the Revulsaroma potion could have an unprecedented effect, completely opposite to its intended repelling nature. Rather than nullifying or weakening, the potion might paradoxically amplify and reinforce any existing strong positive feelings that the drinker harboured towards the potion-maker. Due to genuine and deep-seated love for the maker, the drinker might experience a surge of intense emotions that can be both overwhelming and consuming, such as, jealousy, protectiveness, and overwhelming affection.

[marvelmusing]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Pairing: Modern!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you find yourself with nowhere to live, your friend Alina offers you the perfect solution - her Uncle Aleksander’s empty townhouse. What you don’t know is that Aleksander’s security cameras watch your every move, and Aleksander himself is almost instantly captivated by you.

Warnings [18+]: smut, dom!Aleksander, reader is staying in Aleksander’s house (supposedly) without his knowledge, subtle mafia vibes, power play, voyeuristic vibes from Aleksander, unspecified age gap, reference to oral (fem receiving), slight cnc vibes (no verbal consent but a safeword is established), smidge of size kink, very subtle hints that Aleksander wants children, he’s quite intense but she’s into it.

A/N: happy christmas everyone!

My Masterlist

Aleksander receives an alert the moment his front door is opened. One glance at the screen of his phone reveals that Alina’s key card had deactivated the alarm system.

It isn’t unusual for her to invite herself into his townhouse in one of the affluent boroughs of the city. He rarely uses the space himself, preferring his smaller apartment in Central Os Alta due to the vicinity to his workplace. What is unusual, however, is that she has company today.

Aleksander has an extensive number of security cameras and microphones placed throughout his home. It helps to ease his paranoia and sate the need to control his surroundings. He doesn’t tend to check on Alina when she visits, leaving her to her own devices, but your presence has his interest piqued.

Alina doesn’t bother to take her shoes off, per usual. But you do. After dragging your feet over the doormat - twice, one foot after the other - you tug off your shoes, placing them neatly beside his shoe rack before hurrying to catch up to Alina as she heads towards the kitchen.

He’s proud of the townhouse, a space he had curated as a safe haven for himself and a currently non-existent significant other. Seeing you stare, lips parted as your eyes drink in the furniture and decor in what seems like awe, has a warmth gathering in his chest. He will admit, your admiration of his house is rather adorable.

Curious, he unmutes the sound on the security feed, just in time to hear your voice as you ask tentatively,

“You’re sure your uncle won’t mind?”

Alina opens up a cupboard, retrieving a bag of snacks which she examines with a small frown, before she rips the packaging open and begins to munch on the treats inside. She shrugs through a mouthful.

“He barely ever stays here.”

“But you did ask him… didn’t you?”

Aleksander vaguely remembers Alina mentioning a friend of hers that needed a place to stay. What he doesn’t remember is giving her permission to accommodate said friend in his house. But he watches Alina nod, scrunching up the bag as she finishes her snacks.

“He wants someone here to receive his parcels,” she says, tossing the crumpled wrapper towards the bin. She misses.

He doesn’t order anything to his house. All his parcels are delivered either to his work or his apartment. The townhouse is his hidden treasure, though strangely he doesn’t loathe the idea of letting you stay there. Perhaps he should place a few harmless orders, to aid Alina’s lie. Something inconspicuous, that you might enjoy, like a monthly flower subscription. He likes the thought of you assembling a cheerful bouquet in his living room.

“And you’re sure he doesn’t want any rent,” you say, picking up Alina’s rubbish and placing it in the bin. You’re already a perfect houseguest, though he hopes you might be able to feel comfortable enough to relax in his house.

Aleksander almost feels offended by your suggestion and is relieved when Alina shakes her head.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell him I’m the one staying here. Besides, you’re like my sister. What’s mine is yours.”

“Even your Uncle Sasha?” you ask with a shy smile and this tiny glimpse at your humour has Aleksander wanting to devour you.

Alina grins.

“Especially him.” She pushes away from where she’s been leaning on the kitchen counter. “I’ll give you the password to his grocery account. Order whatever you like.”

That nervous expression returns to your features.

“Are you sure?”

“He gives me an allowance that I never use. You can have it.” She opens one of the kitchen drawers, rummaging through the contents despite Aleksander’s meticulous organisation. It doesn’t take her long to find what she’s looking for. “Here’s a key card to disable the security alarms and the wifi password.”

Aleksander watches you take the objects slowly, holding them in the palm of your hand before closing your fist around them protectively. Alina gestures upwards towards the rest of the house.

“Pick whatever bedroom you like best.”

Unknown by you, the moment you choose Aleksander’s bed to sleep in you become his.

»»---------------------►

As the owner of the internet router at his house, Aleksander can see what sites you visit while using his internet - a power that he abuses fully. He enjoys the insight into your thoughts and interests. The questions you have about the world and the things that make you happy.

During his lunch one day, Aleksander is scrolling through your recent search history when he spots something interesting. His name. Initially just a google search. Then you had examined his Instagram and Facebook, before moving onto his company website.

He’s tempted to pull up the security feed and rewind it back to the moment you had first typed his name, just to see your reaction to what you’re seeing. Especially when he sees how long you had spent reading the tabloids and swiping through images of him. It seems he has captured your attention.

»»---------------------►

It takes a small nudge from Aleksander for you to stop buying only the necessities during your grocery order. Just a few small taps of his thumbs and he adds enough random baking supplies for you to perceive it as an accident when it arrives.

One day, Alina visits him at work, a small box of cupcakes tucked under her arm. Instantly, he recognises them as one of your creations. He had watched you bake them yesterday head bobbing to your music as you had decorated them with an adorable frown of concentration and a smudge of buttercream on your face.

He waits until she leaves before cracking open the box, allowing the sweet sugary scent to invade his senses. The moan that escapes him during his first bite is obscene. He wonders whether your cheeks would flush with heat at the sound. His mind wanders, thinking of kissing the cream off your cheeks.

Aleksander finds himself imagining what it would be like to come home to you, the house warm and inviting as you await his arrival with a sweet treat and an eager smile. He would sink to his knees on the kitchen tiles, slide your skirt and apron up to your waist so that he can kiss your pretty cunt until his name is the only word you can manage.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander hates seeing you cry. But that job of yours was doing you no good. Waking up early to catch the bus and arriving home so tired that you don’t have enough energy to cook yourself a hot meal. Now, after Aleksander has pulled a few strings, you can sleep for as long as you like and spend time creating food that brings you joy.

He has already logged onto his grocery account and amended your weekly order to include a few recipes you wanted to try and some additional treats in an attempt at lifting your spirits. All he wants is for you to be happy.

He’s sorely tempted to go to you now. To wrap his arms around you, hold you against his chest and kiss the crown of your head while murmuring reassurances that this was for the best. He doesn’t like seeing you so despondent. He wants his happy girl back, who tends to the flowers and reads curled up in his armchair beside the fire.

He could just go to you. It’s his house you’re staying in after all. But he doesn’t want to rob you of your safe place. If he turned up now, he knows you would feel pressured to leave, even when you have nowhere else to go. His sweet girl, so terrified of taking up too much space. One day, very soon, he will be able to appreciate you how he longs to.

»»---------------------►

He thinks you might be trying to kill him.

Aleksander’s home gym is a room occupied by a treadmill and a few stray pieces of equipment that he hardly ever uses, there to fill the space he hopes will one day be converted into a nursery.

Currently, you’re stretching yourself out over a yoga mat he didn’t even know he owned, twisting your body into a rather enticing position. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you, shifting in his seat to alleviate some of the ache in his throbbing cock.

Whilst he’s glad you’ve found another hobby to fill your time - and the thought of your improved flexibility pleases him - he almost wishes he hadn’t checked in on you. Now, he is going to have to sit through a meeting and resist the urge to continue watching you.

»»---------------------►

Once a week, Alina stays over with you, spending the evening catching up and talking about all manner of things together. Aleksander likes to listen in while he’s working, imagining that he’s actually in the office across the hall from the living room.

Alina’s suggestion of a blind date for you makes him stiffen, lifting his eyes away from his papers and onto the screen. He’s somewhat glad that you seem apprehensive.

“I thought you didn’t like Mal?” you ask Alina, fidgeting with the edge of the velvet cushion in your lap.

She shrugs.

“Just because he wasn’t right for me doesn’t mean he won’t be right for you.”

Aleksander can say with absolute certainty that Mal is nowhere near the right man for you. He can remember when Alina was infatuated with the boy. If he strings you along like he did with Alina, Aleksander won’t be able to stop himself from interfering.

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t be mad, but I might have already made a reservation for you.”

“Lina!”

You swat her with your cushion - almost playfully - but Aleksander can see your anxiety in the set of your shoulders. To hell with not interfering. He mutes the sound on the screen, picking up his phone and dialling a familiar number.

“Zoya, I need a favour.”

»»---------------------►

He needs to play this carefully. With Zoya’s intervention at the bar where Mal was meeting his friends for a drink beforehand, he will never make it to your date. Aleksander needs to leave you waiting long enough to be relieved by his arrival, but not so long that the rejection damages your self esteem. From a corner of the restaurant, he watches your face carefully.

Each time a waiter appears, he sees you grow a little more agitated, fidgeting with your fingers as you insist that your date will arrive soon. It’s only once he sees you inhale shakily that he decides to pick up his coat and stroll over to your table.

“Is this seat taken?”

Embarrassment touches at your features as you glance up at him, then the tables surrounding you as you seem to assume he’s asking to take the chair to his own table. He watches your lips press together before you shake your head and gesture defeatedly at the chair.

“It’s all yours.”

He smiles widely, draping his coat over the back of the chair before he sits down.

“Thank you, milaya.”

The look of surprise on your face is delightful, even more so when recognition sparkles in your eyes.

“Mr Morozova.”

He’s exceptionally proud of the feigned confusion he spreads over his features.

“Do we know each other?”

“You’re Alina’s uncle.”

“Yes,” he says, the hint of a question at the edge of his tone. Ducking your head bashfully, you tell him your name.

He repeats your name slowly, as if it is the first time he’s ever spoken it, trying to ignore how wide your eyes are at the sound of your name on his lips.

“Alina mentioned you were looking for a place to stay in the city. Did you manage to find somewhere?”

You seem startled at the thought of him remembering you.

“Oh, yes. I did, thank you.”

He smiles. Alina had lied to him, telling him that she was the one staying at his house. Whilst he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, the urge to make you squirm a little pokes at him.

“Do you like where you’re living now?”

He watches you shift nervously in your seat, but your response is earnest.

“Yes, I do,” you admit quietly. “It’s lovely.” He hums indulgently, hoping you might continue speaking, and you nod. “One of the nicest places I’ve ever lived.”

He wants to keep you forever.

Instead, he offers to buy you dinner, which you agree to after a little convincing from Aleksander. He asks for your order, calling the waiter over to place it for you both.

Now that you’re front of him, after watching you through a screen for so long, Aleksander can’t look away from you. In such proximity, he can observe every minute detail. The way you fidget with the charms on your bracelet. The way you attempt to be subtle when you glance at him, only to find his eyes already on you.

He drinks in the sight of you, warmth in his chest as you tuck into your meal. He will admit, he pays little attention to his own plate, choosing to watch as you eat eagerly with soft sounds of pleasure in response to the taste. All the while, he coaxes you into conversation and by the time you’ve finished you seem much more relaxed in his presence.

Aleksander leans back in his chair, swirling the wine around in his glass with nimble fingers. With a polite gesture to the waiter, he orders another bottle of wine. When the waiter mentions dessert, Aleksander raises a questioning brow at you. He can see the nervousness creep into your eyes at the thought of asking for more.

After you refuse his offer, he orders a plateful of dessert that he intends on sharing with you. When it arrives, he takes a few mouthfuls for himself before he offers a spoonful to you.

“Come on, milaya. I bought it for us to share.”

When you relent, leaning forwards to take the spoon from him, he retracts his head, pulling it out of your reach.

“Ah, ah. No hands. Let me.”

After ducking your head bashfully, you look down to avoid his gaze and Aleksander can see how flustered his words have made you. Still, you nod obediently. He moves the spoon back towards you, feeding you the dessert when you open your mouth for him.

He stares as your eyes flutter closed and you hum in delight at the rich taste with a pretty smile on your face.

Saints, you’re so perfect.

Aleksander pays the bill. He keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk to the entrance of the restaurant. He frowns at the sight of goosebumps prickling over your skin.

“Where’s your coat, milaya?”

“Alina gave me a lift here and I left it in her car.”

He tuts quietly in disapproval.

“Well, that won’t do, will it?” Aleksander places his coat over your shoulders, thick wool draped over your frame to shield you from the cold. He smiles at the sight of you, helping you tuck each of your arms into the sleeves. “There we go.”

You give him a bright smile and begin to play shyly with the buttons at the front of his coat.

“Thank you.”

“Let me give you a lift home.”

Immediately your smile falters and you refuse his offer.

“Oh no, I’m fine walking, thank you.”

“You’re walking?” The moment you nod he begins to shake his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m not living in the city centre. It’ll be too out of your way.”

“Nonsense.”

“Mr Morozova-”

“Call me Aleksander, please.”

“Aleksander,” you state slowly. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I’m not going back to my apartment tonight.”

There’s a waver in your voice as you say,

“You’re not?”

He shakes his head.

“I have a house not far from here.”

He watches the internal struggle play over your face. Realisation. Anxiety. Words scrambling from your mind to your tongue as you attempt to create a confession. Sweet girl. Always so honest.

“Aleksander, I…” He watches you wring your hands, the sleeves of his coat covering all but your fingertips. “Alina’s been letting me stay at your townhouse. I’m so sorry for not telling you.”

He doesn’t respond.

Instead, he smiles at the valet, standing behind you as he waits for the man to retrieve his car keys. Leaning down, he presses a pacifying kiss to your temple, smoothing his hands over each of your shoulders, stroking your biceps. He can see the confusion in your eyes at his reaction.

“We’ll discuss this at home, darling.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, though he doubts you would ever openly disagree with him. He feels you shiver at the command in his voice and a thrill runs through him at the thought of you enjoying the role he has picked out for you.

The short walk to the car is silent, a few stray snowflakes beginning to fall. Aleksander keeps his arm around you, ensuring you don’t slip on any ice. He holds the passenger door open for you and keeps his hand on your thigh for the entire journey, ignoring your squirming.

“Aleksander,” you whisper. “I really am sorry.”

“Not now, milaya. Let me concentrate on the roads.”

He feels your skin flush with embarrassment at his condescending tone. The snow has quickly covered the world in white, thick flurries falling faster with every passing moment.

When you finally return home, he slips his coat from your shoulders, hanging it up in the hallway as he nods at your shoes, a silent order for you to remove them. With the height of your heels gone, you seem so much smaller than him as he looks down at you.

“I do not tolerate lying, milaya.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr Morozova. I can move my things out now-”

He presses his thumb against your mouth, index finger curling under your chin.

“I do not want to hear another word from those pretty lips of yours. Safeword is shadow. Understood?”

Excitement sparks in your eyes as you realise what is happening, and when you nod obediently Aleksander feels his cock throb. He knows you will enjoy this. He knows your preferences - what you search for when you’re eager to get yourself off.

“Good girl. Now go pour me a drink.”

Aleksander settles down on his favourite armchair in the living room, watching as you unlock the alcohol cabinet and pour him a small sample of whiskey, the liquid falling smoothly into the crystal glass. He stretches his legs out; his knees always ache during the cold weather. Soaking in a hot bath with you is certainly an enticing thought - perhaps for tomorrow evening.

There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you hand him the glass.

“Thank you, milaya. Be a dear and take my shoes off - I can’t reach them too comfortably at my age.”

With fumbling fingers, you manage to untie his laces and loosen the shoes away from his feet, slipping them off easily enough. The sight of you between his thighs, kneeling on the ground is utter perfection. He smiles down at you, stroking his knuckles over your cheek.

“There’s a good girl. Place them in the hallway for me?”

In the time it takes you to move into the hallway and place the shoes down on the rack beside his front door, Aleksander has freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and underwear, hissing slightly as he grips himself.

When you return, the sight of him has your footsteps faltering in the doorway. He leans his head back, watching you through hooded eyes and a tense jaw. He sees your eyes widen, like a little deer in headlights. He sees your gaze flicker down to his exposed cock and your thighs tremble as they press against each other.

He tilts his head at you.

“Come sit on my cock, milaya.”

A slight shake of your head.

“It won’t fit.”

“Yes it will. Come here.” Still you don’t move. “I won’t ask again.”

His tone has you stumbling forwards.

As you struggle to straddle his lap, he pushes the hem of your dress, velvet smoothing easily upwards to reveal bare skin. The underwear you’re wearing is nice, though he knows you own much prettier sets. That knowledge reassures him that you hadn’t intended on sleeping with your date tonight.

Retrieving his drink from the table beside him, watching you with a self satisfied smirk as he lifts his glass to your lips.

“Some liquid courage for you.”

He breathes out a soft laugh when he sees your nose wrinkle at the taste; evidently you must have swallowed more than you were anticipating.

“Now let’s have a look at what we have here,” he muses, pushing the gusset of your panties aside to reveal your glistening cunt, flushed and glossy with arousal. A perfect little mess. “Have you been in this state since we arrived? Or during the car ride home?”

He can feel your body burning as you admit,

“Since dinner, sir.”

“Oh sweet girl, have I left you wanting?”

“Please,” you whisper weakly. He brushes the head of his cock over your quivering entrance, grinning at the sound of your whimpers.

“Let’s start with the tip, shall we?”

He begins to ease you onto his cock, stretching you out slowly and a small cry escapes from your lips at the sensation. Sweat glistens over your chest as you heave in a few hurried breaths.

Aleksander praises you with every inch, telling you how perfect you are as you writhe and buck against his hold. Once you’re fully seated on his cock, he runs his hands over your thighs soothingly, encouraging you to relax as your cunt continues to twitch around him.

He tugs the front of your dress down, revealing your breasts for him to fondle freely. His hands wander over your body, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Almost absentmindedly, he begins to play with your nipples, pressing kisses from your forehead down to your jawline.

“Such a pretty sight. How are you feeling, my love?”

“So full,” you whine, on the verge of tears. “So good. Aleksander.”

“That’s it, darling.” He holds onto your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

A weak shake of your head that doesn’t convince him. He suspects you can’t even convince yourself that you don’t want this. Nevertheless, he can’t help but argue with you.

“Who’s been housing you, and feeding you, these last few months?”

He watches your expression crumble in defeat, giving in to your desire.

“You have.”

“That’s right, milaya.” He grasps onto your hips, encouraging you to begin bouncing on his cock.“You have no idea..” The feeling of your cunt squeezing him like a vice makes him groan, hands gripping your trembling thighs. “…how difficult it’s been to resist buying clothes for you as well.” His words are breathless, panted out against your lips as he presses your foreheads together. “Dresses and skirts and pretty lingerie sets. But we have a wedding to save for, don’t we?”

His question seems to catch you off guard, as an obscene moan is ripped from the back of your throat. He rolls his hips upwards, notching the head of his cock against that sweet spot inside you that makes you clench violently. Something akin to a sob heaves at your shoulders as you tremble.

“I’m going to spoil you, darling. I want my ring on your finger. I want you in white lace and diamonds.”

Aleksander moans at the feeling of your nails digging into his arms through the fabric of his shirt. He keeps one hand on your hip, occasionally stroking the tense muscles of your abdomen, the other hand cupping your face so that he can kiss you.

He sees your toes curl, calves twitching as your cunt pulses an erratic beat that makes pleasure rocket down his spine. Aleksander moans your name softly, over and over until you’re shaking with overstimulation as you near your climax. When you begin to plead, he hushes you soothingly.

He knows you haven’t touched yourself in quite some time. He knows that the orgasm you’re seconds away from will unravel you completely. He can’t wait to see it.

“Let go, milaya. I’m right here,” he says warmly as he reaches down to rub firm circles over your swollen clit. “Cum around my cock like the good girl you are. Let me have you.”

Aleksander would consider it something of a religious experience, watching you lose yourself to pleasure. To see something so intimate, so sacred, in such proximity, when he has only ever seen you through a screen for months. The orgasm that hits you is lengthy, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as your cunt pulses around him. Every movement, every sound you make, is so breathtakingly beautiful that he stares openly at you with his lips parted in awe. His beautiful girl. His.

That final thought is what pushes him into completion, spilling inside you with a deep moan. He looks down at where the two of you are joined, admiring the glistening mess there. He kisses your forehead as you slump down against his chest. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you stare down at the buttons on his shirt, fidgeting with them absentmindedly.

“I can leave, if you’d like,” you suggest in a quiet murmur. He places his hands on your lower back, keeping you pressed to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You would freeze out there.”

Aleksander lifts you upwards, squeezing your hips gently as he does so, and his cock slips out of you. He leans forwards, kissing you again as he ticks himself back into his trousers. He sucks on your lower lip, dragging it lightly between his teeth as he buttons up his trousers with one hand.

“Stay,” he says.

The smile you give him is shy as you nod, whispering,

“Okay.”

He hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up into his arms. Instantly, you wrap your arms around his neck, coiling yourself around him as he carries you up the stairs.

Some of his cum slips out of you, as he lowers you down onto his sheets. He presses his fingers against your cunt, pushing his spend back inside you where it belongs. A quiet groan catches in his throat at the sensation of your warm cunt clinging to his digits, desperate to keep him inside. He curls his finger, pressing his thumb against your clit.

Aleksander grins when you cant your hips forwards mindlessly.

“What a mess we’ve made. Let me clean you up, milaya.”

Then he ducks his head between your thighs and enters heaven.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander nudges the front door closed with his hip, his hands occupied by shopping bags. He kicks his feet together to dislodge some of the snow stuck to the sole of his shoes, wondering if you’re still asleep.

He finds his answer in the kitchen; you’re dressed in one of his t-shirts. At the sound of him approaching you turn, wide eyed as he stands in the doorway, snowflakes in his hair. He notices your tears immediately, staining your cheeks as you sniffle.

“Milaya?”

“I thought you left me.” The words wobble on their way out. “I woke up and you were gone and I thought you’d left me.”

He lowers the bags, stepping towards you to take you into his arms. After the events of last night, it seems you’re in a somewhat fragile state. He folds his arms around you, giving your body a gentle squeeze as you press yourself tightly against his chest.

“The snow is getting heavy. I thought I would stock up on some essentials to last us until the weather improves,” he explains calmly. He hears how your breathing shakes with emotion. His clothes are still cold from his trip outside and you are delightfully warm. “As if I could ever leave you, my sweet girl.”

He kisses your forehead and your grip on him tightens.

“I���m here,” he murmurs gently, swaying the two of you from side to side as he strokes his hands down your body.

He ducks his head down, hooking a finger beneath your chin to tilt your head backwards so he can kiss you properly. His lips move slowly against yours, palms cupping your cheeks tenderly.

He ensures that you remain attached to him as he puts the perishables away, your arms looped around his neck and your body nestled into his side. Then he abandons the rest of the shopping, opting to bend you over the kitchen countertop, shoving his trousers down so that he can drive his cock into you.

He heaves a sigh of relief at the sound of your breathy gasp, kissing over your neck as you scramble for purchase against the marble.

“That’s it,” he breathes out with a smile, nuzzling his nose into the hollow of your throat. “Isn’t that better?”

Aleksander grips at your waist, dragging you towards him, delighting in your moans as he rolls his hips forwards. He curls a hand around your throat, squeezing lightly to bring your attention to his face. His nose grazes against yours as he insists,

“I meant every word I said last night.”

He leans in, kissing you throughly until he has to stop and breathe. Lowering his hand, his fingers circle your clit, causing you to jerk forwards with a soft moan as he sucks on your lower lip.

“I’m not letting you go, milaya.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[your-neighbor-in-the-northblue]

Zoro, Sanji, and Nami's Reactions To You Breaking Down In Their Arms

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Hurt/Comfort, Platonic/Romantic

Zoro

His first instinct is to push you away but, for some reason, he can't find it in himself to do so. Instead, he just finds himself standing there in shock, uncertain of what to do or how to fix this.

He'll pat your back awkwardly as you sob into his chest. He feels horrible that he doesn't know what exactly he should be doing, but he also feels angry? Upset? Not at you, but at whatever it is that made you feel this way.

Eventually, he'll grab your shoulders firmly, pulling you away from him so that he can look you straight in the eyes and ask you what happened, racking his brain helplessly for any solution to your problem.

But you don't say anything, just sputter and shake as he keeps his hold on you. Just tell him how to fix it! Anything will do, he just wants to fix it!

"Oi, oi! Calm down! Just tell me what's wrong!"

The two of you end up standing alone on the deck until you tire yourself out and fall asleep on the grass.

He'll sit there with you in the dark, throwing a blanket over you as he leans against the rails of the ship.

He's a little harsh with how he comforts people, but he really is trying to find a way to help you out in your state of turmoil. His first thought is always to protect you and anyone else on his crew, and if he can't find a way to do that, he just gets antsy.

Sanji

Sanji freezes up the second he feels the tears staining his shirt. He's heartbroken and.. confused? Why are you crying?

He'll wrap his arms around you uncertainly as he brings you over to the kitchen table and sits you down, going to make you tea or anything else that's warm for you to drink.

He'll be so gentle in the way he treats you, both physically and with what he says. He can't count the number of times he's felt like this and feels as though he's an expert in what you need the most right now.

"Breath for me," He said, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as he placed the mug on the table before you, "You'll be okay. Everything will work itself out, promise."

He'll sit there and listen to you and what you have to say for as long as you need, he'd even lock the kitchen door for you so that no one else could walk in on you at your lowest.

He'll reach out to rub your shoulders and whisper words of reassurance to you, promising you that nothing will ever harm you while he's around.

He hates seeing you this way and would gladly do everything in his power to make you happier. He'd stay right there in the kitchen with you forever if you asked.

Nami

She's quick to hug you back, shushing you as she runs her hands along your back. Her first thought is to comfort you, and then later, if you're ready, she'll ask you questions.

She'll guide you into the girls' quarters, sit you down on the bed, and let you sob into her lap as she pets your head, just allowing you to let it all out.

It's quiet and supportive, with no one to interrupt or walk in on you being so openly vulnerable, and you can bet that Nami wouldn't dare to tell a soul if you didn't want her to.

Once you begin to settle down, she'll begin to question if you're alright.

"Feeling better?" She'd smile as she played with your hair, "What happened?"

Afterward, she'd take you out shopping, her treat. A little retail therapy never hurt anyone, and you sure as hell deserved something nice after everything that's happened.

She has such a strong inclination to help whenever she sees anyone she cares about in a state such as this and would do anything in her power to make you feel better. She's so kind in how she approaches you and would gladly sit there and listen to everything that's been bothering you.

[mariacallous]

The New York Times once dubbed the Princeton professor Robert George, who has guided Republican elites for decades, “the reigning brain of the Christian right.” Last year, he issued a stark warning to his ideological allies. “Each time we think the horrific virus of anti-Semitism has been extirpated, it reappears,” he wrote in May 2023. “A plea to my fellow Catholics—especially Catholic young people: Stay a million miles from this evil. Do not let it infect your thinking.” When I spoke with George that summer, he likened his sense of foreboding to that of Heinrich Heine, the 19th-century German poet who prophesied the rise of Nazism in 1834.

Some 15 months later, the conservative commentator Tucker Carlson welcomed a man named Darryl Cooper onto his web-based show and introduced him to millions of followers as “the best and most honest popular historian in the United States.” The two proceeded to discuss how Adolf Hitler might have gotten a bad rap and why British Prime Minister Winston Churchill was “the chief villain of the Second World War.”

Hitler tried “to broadcast a call for peace directly to the British people” and wanted to “work with the other powers to reach an acceptable solution to the Jewish problem,” Cooper elaborated in a social-media post. “He was ignored.” Why the Jews should have been considered a “problem” in the first place—and what a satisfactory “solution” to their inconvenient existence might be—was not addressed.

Some Republican politicians spoke out against Carlson’s conversation with Cooper, and many historians, including conservative ones, debunked its Holocaust revisionism. But Carlson is no fringe figure. His show ranks as one of the top podcasts in the United States; videos of its episodes rack up millions of views. He has the ear of Donald Trump and spoke during prime time at the 2024 Republican National Convention. His anti-Jewish provocations are not a personal idiosyncrasy but the latest expression of an insurgent force on the American right—one that began to swell when Trump first declared his candidacy for president and that has come to challenge the identity of the conservative movement itself.

Anti-Semitism has always existed on the political extremes, but it began to migrate into the mainstream of the Republican coalition during the Trump administration. At first, the prejudice took the guise of protest.

In 2019, hecklers pursued the Republican congressman Dan Crenshaw—a popular former Navy SEAL from Texas—across a tour of college campuses, posing leading questions to him about Jews and Israel, and insinuating that the Jewish state was behind the 9/11 attacks. The activists called themselves “Groypers” and were led by a young white supremacist named Nick Fuentes, an internet personality who had defended racial segregation, denied the Holocaust, and participated in the 2017 rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, where marchers chanted, “Jews will not replace us.”

The slogan referred to a far-right fantasy known as the “Great Replacement,” according to which Jews are plotting to flood the country with Black and brown migrants in order to displace the white race. That belief animated Robert Bowers, who perpetrated the largest massacre of Jews on American soil at a Pittsburgh synagogue in 2018 after sharing rants about the Great Replacement on social media. The Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, the gunman wrote in his final post, “likes to bring invaders in that kill our people … Screw your optics, I’m going in.”

Less than three years later, Carlson sanitized that same conspiracy theory on his top-rated cable-news show. “They’re trying to change the population of the United States,” the Fox host declared, “and they hate it when you say that because it’s true, but that’s exactly what they’re doing.” Like many before him, Carlson maintained plausible deniability by affirming an anti-Semitic accusation without explicitly naming Jews as culprits. He could rely on members of his audience to fill in the blanks.

Carlson and Fuentes weren’t the only ones who recognized the rising appeal of anti-Semitism on the right. On January 6, 2021, an influencer named Elijah Schaffer joined thousands of Trump supporters storming the U.S. Capitol, posting live from House Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s office. Eighteen months later, Schaffer publicly polled his hundreds of thousands of Twitter followers: “Do you believe Jews disproportionately control the world institutions, banks, & are waging war on white, western society?” Social-media polls are not scientific, so the fact that more than 70 percent of respondents said some version of “yes” matters less than the fact that 94,000 people participated in the survey. Schaffer correctly gauged that this subject was something that his audience wanted to discuss, and certainly not something that would hurt his career.

With little fanfare, the tide had turned in favor of those advancing anti-Semitic arguments. In 2019, Fuentes and his faction were disrupting Republican politicians like Crenshaw. By 2022, Fuentes was shaking hands onstage with Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene and dining with Trump at Mar-a-Lago. In 2019, the Groyper activists were picketing events held by Turning Point USA, the conservative youth organization founded by the activist Charlie Kirk. By 2024, Turning Point was employing—and periodically firing and denouncing—anti-Semitic influencers who appeared at conventions run by Fuentes. “The Zionist Jews controlling our planet are all pedophiles who have no regard for the sanctity of human life and purity,” one of the organization’s ambassadors posted before she was dismissed.

In 2020, Carlson’s lead writer, Blake Neff, was compelled to resign after he was exposed as a regular contributor to a racist internet forum. Today, he produces Kirk’s podcast and recently reported alongside him at the Republican National Convention. “Why does Turning Point USA keep pushing anti-Semitism?” asked Erick Erickson, the longtime conservative radio host and activist, last October. The answer: Because that’s what a growing portion of the audience wants.

“When I began my career in 2017,” Fuentes wrote in May 2023, “I was considered radioactive in the American Right for my White Identitarian, race realist, ‘Jewish aware,’ counter-Zionist, authoritarian, traditional Catholic views … In 2023, on almost every count, our previously radioactive views are pounding on the door of the political mainstream.” Fuentes is a congenital liar, but a year after this triumphalist pronouncement, his basic point is hard to dispute. Little by little, the extreme has become mainstream—especially since October 7.

Last December, Tucker Carlson joined the popular anti-establishment podcast Breaking Points to discuss the Gaza conflict and accused a prominent Jewish political personality of disloyalty to the nation. “They don’t care about the country at all,” he told the host, “but I do … because I’m from here, my family’s been here hundreds of years, I plan to stay here. Like, I’m shocked by how little they care about the country, including the person you mentioned. And I can’t imagine how someone like that could get an audience of people who claim to care about America, because he doesn’t, obviously.”

The twist: “He” was not some far-left activist who had called America an irredeemably racist regime. Carlson was referring to Ben Shapiro, arguably the most visible Jewish conservative in America, and insinuating that despite his decades of paeans to American exceptionalism, Shapiro was a foreign implant secretly serving Israeli interests. The podcast host did not object to Carlson’s remarks.

The war in Gaza has placed Jews and their role in American politics under a microscope. Much has been written about how the conflict has divided the left and led to a spike in anti-Semitism in progressive spaces, but less attention has been paid to the similar shake-up on the right, where events in the Middle East have forced previously subterranean tensions to the surface. Today, the Republican Party’s establishment says that it stands with Israel and against anti-Semitism, but that stance is under attack by a new wave of insurgents with a very different agenda.

Since October 7, in addition to slurring Shapiro, Carlson has hosted a parade of anti-Jewish guests on his show. One was Candace Owens, the far-right podcaster known for her defenses of another anti-Jewish agitator, Kanye “Ye” West. Owens had already clashed with her employer—the conservative outlet The Daily Wire, co-founded by Shapiro—over her seeming indifference to anti-Semitism. But after the Hamas assault, she began making explicit what had previously been implicit—including liking a social-media post that accused a rabbi of being “drunk on Christian blood,” a reference to the medieval blood libel. The Daily Wire severed ties with her soon after. But this did not remotely curb her appeal.

Today, Owens can be found fulminating on her YouTube channel (2.4 million subscribers) or X feed (5.6 million followers) about how a devil-worshipping Jewish cult controls the world, and how Israel was complicit in the 9/11 attacks and killed President John F. Kennedy. Owens has also jumped aboard the Reich-Rehabilitation Express. “What is it about Hitler? Why is he the most evil?” she asked in July. “The first thing people would say is: ‘Well, an ethnic cleansing almost took place.’ And now I offer back: ‘You mean like we actually did to the Germans.’”

“Many Americans are learning that WW2 history is not as black and white as we were taught and some details were purposefully omitted from our textbooks,” she wrote after Carlson’s Holocaust conversation came under fire. The post received 15,000 likes.

Donald Trump’s entry into Republican politics intensified several forces that have contributed to the rise of anti-Semitism on the American right. One was populism, which pits the common people against a corrupt elite. Populists play on discontents that reflect genuine failures of the establishment, but their approach also readily maps onto the ancient anti-Semitic canard that clandestine string-pulling Jews are the source of society’s problems. Once people become convinced that the world is oppressed by an invisible hand, they often conclude that the hand belongs to an invisible Jew.

Another such force is isolationism, or the desire to extricate the United States from foreign entanglements, following decades of debacles in the Middle East. But like the original America First Committee, which sought to keep the country out of World War II, today’s isolationists often conceive of Jews as either rootless cosmopolitans undermining national cohesion or dual loyalists subverting the national interest in service of their own. In this regard, the Tucker Carlsons of 2024 resemble the reactionary activists of the 1930s, such as the aviator Charles Lindbergh, who infamously accused Jewish leaders of acting “for reasons which are not American,” and warned of “their large ownership and influence in our motion pictures, our press, our radio and our government.”

Populism and isolationism have legitimate expressions, but preventing them from descending into anti-Semitism requires leaders willing to restrain their movement’s worst instincts. Today’s right has fewer by the day. Trump fundamentally refuses to repudiate anyone who supports him, and by devolving power from traditional Republican elites and institutions to a diffuse array of online influencers, the former president has ensured that no one is in a position to corral the right’s excesses, even if someone wanted to.

As one conservative columnist put it to me in August 2023, “What you’re actually worried about is not Trump being Hitler. What you’re worried about is Trump incentivizing anti-Semites,” to the point where “a generation from now, you’ve got Karl Lueger,” the anti-Jewish mayor of Vienna who inspired Hitler, “and two generations from now, you do have something like that.” The accelerant that is social-media discourse, together with a war that brings Jews to the center of political attention, could shorten that timeline.

For now, the biggest obstacle to anti-Semitism’s ascent on the right is the Republican rank and file’s general commitment to Israel, which causes them to recoil when people like Owens rant about how the Jewish state is run by a cabal of satanic pedophiles. Even conservatives like Trump’s running mate, J. D. Vance, a neo-isolationist who opposes foreign aid to Ukraine, are careful to affirm their continued support for Israel, in deference to the party base.

But this residual Zionism shields only Israeli Jews from abuse, not American ones—and it certainly does not protect the large majority of American Jews who vote for Democrats. This is why Trump suffers no consequences in his own coalition when he rails against “liberal Jews” who “voted to destroy America.” But such vilification won’t end there. As hard-core anti-Israel activists who have engaged in anti-Semitism against American Jews have demonstrated, most people who hate one swath of the world’s Jews eventually turn on the rest. “If I don’t win this election,” Trump said last week, “the Jewish people would have a lot to do with a loss.”

More than populism and isolationism, the force that unites the right’s anti-Semites and explains why they have been slowly winning the war for the future of conservatism is conspiracism. To see its power in practice, one need only examine the social-media posts of Elon Musk, which serve as a window into the mindset of the insurgent right and its receptivity to anti-Semitism.

Over the past year, the world’s richest man has repeatedly shared anti-Jewish propaganda on X, only to walk it back following criticism from more traditional conservative quarters. In November, Musk affirmed the Great Replacement theory, replying to a white nationalist who expressed it with these words: “You have said the actual truth.” After a furious backlash, the magnate recanted, saying, “It might be literally the worst and dumbest post I’ve ever done.” Musk subsequently met with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and accompanied Ben Shapiro on a trip to Auschwitz, but the lesson didn’t quite take. Earlier this month, he shared Carlson’s discussion of Holocaust revisionism with the approbation: “Very interesting. Worth watching.” Once again under fire, he deleted the tweet and apologized, saying he’d listened to only part of the interview.

But this lesson is also unlikely to stick, because like many on the new right, Musk is in thrall to a worldview that makes him particularly susceptible to anti-Jewish ideas. Last September, not long before Musk declared the “actual truth” of the Great Replacement, he participated in a public exchange with a group of rabbis, activists, and Jewish conservatives. The discussion was intended as an intervention to inoculate Musk against anti-Semitism, but early on, he said something that showed why the cause was likely lost before the conversation even began. “I think,” Musk cracked, “we’re running out of conspiracy theories that didn’t turn out to be true.”

The popularity of such sentiments among contemporary conservatives explains why the likes of Carlson and Owens have been gaining ground and old-guard conservatives such as Shapiro and Erickson have been losing it. Simply put, as Trump and his allies have coopted the conservative movement, it has become defined by a fundamental distrust of authority and institutions, and a concurrent embrace of conspiracy theories about elite cabals. And the more conspiratorial thinking becomes commonplace on the right, the more inevitable that its partisans will land on one of the oldest conspiracies of them all.

Conspiratorial thinking is neither new to American politics nor confined to one end of the ideological spectrum. But Trump has made foundational what was once marginal. Beginning with birtherism and culminating in election denialism, he turned anti-establishment conspiracism into a litmus test for attaining political power, compelling Republicans to either sign on to his claims of 2020 fraud or be exiled to irrelevance.

The fundamental fault line in the conservative coalition became whether someone was willing to buy into ever more elaborate fantasies. The result was to elevate those with flexible approaches to facts, such as Carlson and Owens, who were predisposed to say and do anything—no matter how hypocritical or absurd—to obtain influence. Once opened, this conspiratorial box could not be closed. After all, a movement that legitimizes crackpot schemes about rigged voting machines and microchipped vaccines cannot simply turn around and draw the line at the Jews.

For mercenary opportunists like Carlson, this moment holds incredible promise. But for Republicans with principles—those who know who won the 2020 election, or who was the bad guy in World War II, and can’t bring themselves to say otherwise—it’s a time of profound peril. And for Jews, the targets of one of the world’s deadliest conspiracy theories, such developments are even more forboding.

“It is now incumbent on all decent people, and especially those on the right, to demand that Carlson no longer be treated as a mainstream figure,” Jonathan Tobin, the pro-Trump conservative editor of the Jewish News Syndicate, wrote after Carlson’s World War II episode. “He must be put in his place, and condemned by Trump and Vance.”

Anti-Semitism’s ultimate victory in GOP politics is not assured. Musk did delete his tweets, Owens was fired, and some Republicans did condemn Carlson’s Holocaust segment. But beseeching Trump and his camp to intervene here mistakes the cause for the cure.

Three days after Carlson posted his Hitler apologetics, Vance shrugged off the controversy and recorded an interview with him, and this past Saturday, the two men yukked it up onstage at a political event in Pennsylvania before an audience of thousands. Such coziness should not surprise, given that Carlson was reportedly instrumental in securing the VP slot for the Ohio senator. Asked earlier if he took issue with Carlson’s decision to air the Holocaust revisionism, Vance retorted, “The fundamental idea here is Republicans believe not in censorship; we believe in free speech and debate.” He conveniently declined to use his own speech to debate Carlson’s.

[coralinnii]

Hi, I saw your requests were open could you do a sequel for Malleus and Idia villainess? And if it’s not too much work could you do for Rook and Lilia?

being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy feat: Lilia, Rook genre: drama note: set in the same universe as previous works (Malleus and Vil’s ver specifically), prominent non-canon characters (Yung, etc), not gender-specific reader, no pronouns used, sculptor!reader in Rook’s portion,

You remembered that the dating sim game you found yourself in was at most PG13 but oh, how you wanted to swear in your native language and the language in this madness of a new world you were currently in. 

Couldn’t you be a rich but nameless aristocrat or even a dumb mob character? Why did you have to be the hopeless puppet of your evil parents who just purchased a dragon egg from a black auction?!

At the persuasion of your “parents” (they certainly don’t act like it), your character went to buy a dragon egg, hoping to raise it to overthrow one of the love targets and become the new Dragon King. All for the slim chance your family would be proud of you. You knew the unfair ending to your person that was offered as a sole perpetrator of this act of treason. Your life was written unfortunately as such, short and unloved. 

But you weren't their child anymore. You chose to rebel this horrid destiny by running away with the dragon egg in your arms. You weren’t sure how to get the egg back to its people but you weren’t going to let your family get their hands on it. 

You were adamant of your choice of action. You were going to find a way to reunite the young dragon to its family. Easy, right? 

No. No it was not. Especially when the moment a small cute boy hatched from that egg, you were running around your secret cabin trying to reign in the surprisingly powerful child. 

“Love, please get off the ceiling. Slowly float your way to me-ahh the curtains! Get water!” 

Realising you were way over your head, you were racking your brain to figure out the best solution. Aside from just your inexperience with children, it’s plain to see that the youngster in your care is developing skills you couldn’t possibly know to support.

You had no choice but to find him 

“This is certainly an odd predicament here”

Lilia casually commented as he curiously observed the unplanned visitors in his manor. Lilia’s eyebrow quirk upwards as he watches the young dragon fae playfully squirming in your lap as you nervously nurse the tea Lilia’s servants prepared in haste. 

“I understand you must have questions. I can explain everyth-“ you started to speak but you were cut off by the Duke. 

“May I take a guess first?” 

For someone who is smiling, Lilia still manages to instill a sense of fear in you to the point that you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but nod your head. 

“I’m aware of your family’s…avarice for power and their disdain for Lord Malleus since their lost in standing” your breath hitched when you accidentally locked eyes with Lilia’s darkened scarlet gaze “Young dragons are rare but their strength can change the world’s power dynamic when raised into adulthood” 

Lilia’s words were vague but his tone was pushing a dangerous weight onto you. With a few sentences, he already knew your family’s plans for treason and you were being carefully judged by his watchful gaze. 

“Which is why dragon eggs are extremely difficult to obtain, and considered illegal to own or sell to non-fae if one were to find ways to find one.” Lilia continued. “Coming to me with a young dragon fae is sort of a confession of your crime, you understand that?” 

Of course you did. It was why you didn’t want to get involved with Lilia or anyone in the first place. You were a criminal the moment you obtained the egg and you were being used as a pawn in your parents’ greed for power. You initially wanted to leave the egg deep in the woods and run away from your family. 

But before you could, Yung was born. And you instantly fell in love. The tiny child crawled into your arms and into your heart. You decided to risk imprisonment if it means the innocent fae grows up happy and strong, with the love your host body never received. 

Shaking away your nerves, you stared straight into Lilia’s scarlet eyes which surprised him. “I know the risks, but only you can save this child from my family's greed.” 

You, albeit awkwardly with the young fae in your lap, bowed to the powerful duke as you made a bold and desperate plea.

“I beg of you. Please take this child into your care” 

Unbeknownst to you, Lilia wasn’t distrusting of you at all. While he disliked your family, he pitied you as he could see only a lonely human that begged for love. He heard news of your disappearance but to think you would appear before him with a tiny fae with great potential. He deduced that your family planned to raise the child to usurp the throne from his young lord but you rebelled and ran with the innocent child. 

He silently praised you for your bravery, which led him to his next words.

“Very well, I accept your request” 

You lifted your head in shock at the quick reply. You’ve heard that the young(?) Duke was laid-back to a certain degree but you’d assume he put more thought when taking in a whole new ward into his care. But you weren’t going to complain about his benevolence so you fervently thanked him.  

Lilia reached his arms out, glancing towards Yung in your arms and you took the hint. He needed to take the young dragon from you if he was going to raise him. You knew that, it was obvious. But that knowledge didn’t help the painful throb in your chest. 

Perhaps because he was still quite young, Yung was sensitive to your aching heartbeat as he squirmed anxiously in your grasp, tightening his grip on your shirt and started to cry out for you. 

“W-wuv, wuv!” He cried out his nickname for you, something he picked up after hearing you call him Love over and over again. You couldn’t risk the possibility of him attaching to you so you avoided parental titles but alas it didn’t stop anything. He was calling for you with that endearing name. 

“Oh, love” you whispered painfully, reaching to the young fae’s tiny hands with your own shaking hands. “You need to let go. I can’t stay with you anymore” 

But you couldn’t calm the young one down. You couldn’t even stop your own emotions as you felt the sting in your eyes from the tears that were cascading down your cheeks. You stayed with Yung day and night as you did your best to raise him. You got to see his first crawl, his first stand, his first flight, and so much more. You had dreams where you watched the young dragon grow up with love and you forgot that you weren’t meant to be a part of that. For Yung to be happy, he should be far away from your family, including you. Your mind understands that, why can’t your heart?

You impressed yourself that you managed to register a sudden warmth atop of your hands in your chaotic mess of a mind. You felt Lilia’s hands encase your trembling ones that were wrapped around Yung’s. You locked eyes with the duke’s which you felt your heart skipped a beat at the beauty of his orbs. The entire conversation, you felt his gaze to be intimidating but now it’s slightly different. It was…gentler. 

“Oh dear, I supposed there is nothing else we can do” Lilia let out a sigh as he raised to his feet. He gestured for a servant’s attention and announced, “Prepare two rooms for our guests” 

“Sir Lilia…” you uttered in confusion but Lilia responded with a playful smile on his pale lips. 

“You’ll be staying with me for a while” He smiled with a slight mischievous glint in his eyes 

That was how you, a criminal, started living with the great Duke Lilia Vanrouge along with the baby dragon you ran away with.

If you had an unfair life before, the universe must have been dying to prove you wrong by showing that your life could be more unfair. You reincarnated as the story’s most unluckiest character. You were the desperate and foolish noble that fell for Rook Hunt, respected knight and fanatic of beauty in all its form. Stupidly falling for Rook’s flowery words of appreciation, your character begged to be engaged to the knight but grew jealous every time Rook decided to focus his adoration elsewhere, which was every single time. 

Blinded by jealousy, your character recklessly attacked Neige and his love interest which ultimately led to imprisonment and presumably death since you never appeared in the story after that. 

You thought it was simple to avoid that ending, just annul your engagement and that’s it. However, apparently the original script failed to mention that your family received a large sum of money to arrange the engagement. And there’s no way your family was gonna give the dowry back. 

Welp, guess you gotta pay this yourself then. 

You proposed a deal with Rook and his family. You would find a way to earn the money that his family spent on you and the engagement will be annulled which certainly shocked the Hunt household since you were so desperate for the union between you and their son in the first place. But they ultimately give the final word to Rook, who was strangely calm. 

You were nervous under his gaze but by some miracle, Rook agreed to your deal and you sighed a breath of relief. Now, you just need to figure out how to make money

Coincidentally, like Rook you were also an admirer of all things beautiful but fortunately for others, your method of appreciation is capturing beauty through art, specifically sculpting. You love being able to immortalize one’s visual beauty with your own hands and you were confident that you could make some money out of it. 

It started with smaller requests, desk decors of fake flowers and animal sculptures. Soon, your talents were spreading as you were receiving commissions to make busts of loved ones. They were appreciative of your ability to bring out life from inanimate mediums. 

But that was partially due to Rook as well. 

While he was careful not to overtake your process, Rook’s keen eyes were helpful in the smaller details that made all the differences. He tells you how your client’s face crinkles slightly or how the dimple dips into their cheek when they smile. You suppose you couldn’t blame your original body to love Rook, not completely anyway. 

But you refused to make the same mistake. You were determined to change your predestined fate. Afterall, you were a completely different person. 

And someone else noticed that as well.

He’s not trying to brag but Rook Hunt was not a typical man. There’s not a single misplaced hair that he wouldn’t notice or a thread misaligned that he wouldn’t catch. So obviously, he noticed the drastic change in you. 

Your walking pace is different, your breathing has changed, your typical habits were replaced with new ones.You were more level-headed than usual, determined as always but your goal has changed. It was as though you woke up as a completely different person.

He noticed everything about you but did not mention a word to you, preferring to continue his observation without your knowledge. And through his observations, he’s picked out aspects of you that he can’t seem to look away from. 

Firstly, your eyes. While he objectively admired the pure infatuation of your old gaze at him and he was intrigued by the frequent crazed glare of jealousy, Rook finds himself captivated by the new look in your eyes. Your eyes stay the same but they’re clearer, more confident with professional focus when you carve or mold your work. Your eyes seem calmer as you converse with him on occasion, gone was the obsessive looks he once received. 

Next, your hands. Since you started sculpting, he began obsessively watching you work, entranced by your practiced strokes and cuts. Your hands glide skillfully against the material as you shape your medium to your whim with confidence. He voiced his envy towards your sculptures for having your hands grace its surface (you chose to ignore that). Your movements differ so much from your old self that Rook started to doubt your identity. 

Finally, your lips. You haven't changed your morning routine with the servants so your facial features haven't changed in that sense. However, your smile held his heart in a vice grip, his gaze trapped by your lips like a bramble of thorns digging into his thoughts. He found beauty of all forms to be equally exquisite, and he was not lying to you when he sang praises about your lovestruck grin that showcased the maddening effects of love. But why did that smile seem dull in comparison when he watched the small satisfied smiles formed on your face whenever you were proud of a new project or the shy upward quirk of your lips when your client gave you their words of appreciation for your hard work? 

Since your change, Rook grew more and more fascinated by you. He waits to see a new side of you or even glimpses of you he has already seen, just wanting to see you that day. But when he does see you and you offer a polite smile and a wave, his mind turns blank with nothing but you for a second which for a knight and hunter such as himself is frighteningly concerning.  

You were dangerous for him, but he likes it

[bentecdigital]

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[shewrites444]

earned it [thomas shelby x mafia/dominant reader smut]

word count - 3k

[ summary - the reader, the current head of the sicilian mob, meets with thomas shelby to discuss an issue that intervenes with both of their organizations. despite their mutual disliking for one another, thomas takes an interest to the business woman before him, and doesn’t seem to realize how powerful she may be. ]

[ warnings - mentions of violence, strong cursing, dirty talk, dominant female, oral (f & m), praise kink, unprotected sex ]

-

“and if we get ‘rid’ of him and his members, how are we going to go about that?” thomas shelby asked me from across the obnoxiously long dining table, lighting a cigarette and sinking into his chair.

i shrug nonchalantly, resting my arms against the table as i chew the steak his supposed aunt polly cooked for us. we’d be discussing this matter for so long my food was starting to get cold.

“we can handle that, all i ask is for you and your family to do the talking. get them out of birmingham and into italy. i know it’s a far stretch, but we can make it work. when someone is offered a lot of money, they’ll travel. the last thing their organization wants is no protection. i think they’d trust the mob’s word over a group of drunken, horse-betting brothers.”

thomas scoffed, moderately offended but also carrying a tone of impressment, taking a sip of his whiskey and gesturing the glass towards me. “you italians have a mouth on you, eh? you crawl around europe like the coppers, thinking you own the cities, only you’re not afraid to take out your guns, hm, mrs. [y/n].”

“i’m not married.” i mutter, once again taking the steak knife in my hand as i begin to cut the tender meat.

he quirked his brow, setting his glass down. “my mistake. i assumed that a woman who ran one of the most dangerous gangs in italy was wedded. i should’ve looked at your ring finger before i commented, miss [y/n].”

“we’re not here to discuss my marriage status, mr. shelby. this group of communists pose a real threat to both of our families. i can get back in my carriage right now and send my men in here to shoot you in the fucking head for all i care, if you don’t cooperate, or we can get back to information that actually matters, and your life goes on.” i look him in the eyes, a blank expression on my face.

he stood up, walking over to the bar cart and pouring himself more whiskey, taking another glass and filling it with a new bottle of red wine after popping the cork. he set it beside my plate, pulling out the chair next to me and sitting down.

“you can get pissed off all you want, dear, but i’m the one with a gun in my pocket. i could kill you, and your men, in a matter of seconds, so don’t think your words even draw a nick of blood on me.” he threatened, sipping his drink, enough to nearly empty the glass. “we can agree to disagree all night, or you can change your temper and we can figure out a neutral solution for the both of us.”

i chew my steak, watching him speak with a smirk on my redly tainted lips. i take the glass of wine and drink it slowly. “you are quite charming, mr. shelby. it almost offends me that you think i walked into your home unarmed, too.” i take my napkin and dab it on my lips before standing up, dusting off my black dress. “do as i say, and get them to italy. we can discuss the specifics after you speak to their leader. walk me to my carriage, won’t you?”

thomas stands up, pushing both of our chairs in before walking me to the back doorway, his whiskey glass still in hand, only a few ice cubes left inside and not even a shot’s worth of alcohol. i glance down at the purse in my hand, looking through to find my lipstick, confused if i had dropped it when i stood up from the table. i sigh, looking up to the peaky blinder who stood before me as he opened the door for me.

“give me one minute, i think i dropped my lipstick by my chair.” i set my purse down on the table aside their coat rack and walk back to the dining room, hearing his footsteps trail behind as he followed.

i lean down, seeing the lipstick on the floor and pick it up, turning around to bump into thomas, our faces not even two inches apart as he lightly pushed me against the table.

i roll my eyes, both hands planting against his chest and pushing him off. “i don’t think me saying i was unmarried was a suggestion, mr. shelby. not every woman becomes a whore when you have them over for dinner.”

“do you ever freely sleep around, miss [y/n]?” thomas asks, looking down to meet my eyes, then averting to my lips. “surely, a woman like you, can get whoever she wants. you run apart of the bloody world, for what it’s worth. do you ever fuck anyone on your level? someone as powerful as you are?”

“that’s none of your concern.” i say, glancing down at the light erection that was intruding his black slacks. “although, i definitely don’t fuck men that rudely come onto me when i make it clear i came over for strictly business.”

he grinned, one of his hands gently sliding onto my back, the other setting the glass on the table, one ice cube sliding onto his fingertips. he pressed it against my collarbone, sliding it down my skin softly.

“oh, but you definitely do. i think this says otherwise, don’t you think?” thomas tilts his head teasingly, gesturing to my hardening nipples as they protruded my dress.

i blush, shaking my head in disbelief. “you have a cold substance near my chest, that’s a natural reaction.”

“it’s not even near them, dear. i’m still pressing on your shoulder. it’s not a bad thing to admit you like this, miss [y/n].” he slides the ice cube further down my chest, his pinkie pushing my dress back, the v-neck fabric tucking itself underneath my right breast through his manipulation. he slid the substance over my nipple, causing me to sigh heavily. he couldn’t help but grin at my reaction.

thomas leaned down, dropping the ice cube back into the glass and licking my erect nipple, sucking lightly on the bud before pushing me against the table and sitting me down. i moan softly, looking up at the ceiling, my body now in a heat at his teasing touch.

“i think you choose not to fuck. from what it seems like, it may be a distraction for you. you’re a busy woman. perhaps there is no time for any sort of play.” thomas says, reaching over to expose my other breast. “you really don’t let anyone in, even physically. you and i, miss [y/n], are probably more alike than you realize.”

“don’t even try convincing me of that. i know you fuck, mr. shelby.”

“oh, really? you know that, how? because of how wet i already have you?” he asks, reaching his hand down and into my knee-length dress, pressing his fingers against my warm panties.

i hold my mouth shut, breathing heavily through my nose as he pushes the fabric to the side, lightly tracing his fingers against my wet folds.

“a woman like you wouldn’t like to be fucked like a whore, though. you expect much more than that. you’d like to be praised, as if you were a crown jewel in terms of your status. you’re someone who is clearly unfazed by most men, i can see that. you don’t give a fuck about them unless they worship you.”

“do you think you could possibly do that, mr. shelby? worship a woman?”

“not just any woman, no.” he begins, reaching his arm across my waist, snaking it around me to pull me up and into his chest, where he held me up and guided me to the bedroom next to the dining room. “it takes someone who knows who they are and what they can do to make me feel like they even deserve that type of treatment.”

he helped pull my dress off, leaving me in only my panties as he set me on the bed. i chose to oblige, partially due to the pleasure he was sinking me into, but also because i found it interesting he thought he would even have full control over the situation. thomas was right about me choosing to not fuck, but that didn't mean i fell at the feet of a man who knew what he was doing. thomas shelby was a powerful man, sure, but he could never climb the ladder high enough to reach my level.

“but you, you know what you can do. you do what has to be done, miss [y/n]. you threatened to put a gun to my head, what kind of woman does that? a fucking powerful one.” thomas nearly moans at his own words, leaning down to kiss me before he began to undress.

i return the kiss, my legs still shut, as thomas began to unbutton his shirt, glancing down at my waiting body. he undressed himself fully, standing naked before me as he climbed into the bed and leaned down on his knees, sliding off my underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he hovered above me, planting a passionate kiss against my lips, leaving red residue from my lipstick on his own lips while he slid his tongue into my mouth. i feel his fingers slide inside of me, my legs spreading in reaction as he began to finger me. his lips trailed from my neck to my breasts, sucking my nipples back and forth as he pumped his fingers in and out of my pussy.

i close my eyes, my mouth hung open as i moan in pleasure from his touch. i could feel his eyes on me, watching nothing but my expression. the mental part of me hated giving into thomas shelby’s advances, but the physical side of me could care less. he knew what he was doing, it seemed like, but frankly, so did i.

“oh, you’re so fucking wet, love. you’re practically dripping onto my fingers, onto my bed..” thomas cooes, pulling himself out of me and into his mouth, licking my juices. “and you taste just as good as i imagined. how did i get so lucky to touch you?”

i lightly sit up, leaning over to pull him back into a kiss as i climb off the bed, thomas now sitting at the edge. i get on my knees and take his cock into my hand, spitting on his tip and beginning to lick his cock, up and down, pressing light kisses against his skin as he watched, his expression showing nothing but lust, as he grinned from cheek to cheek at my actions.

“fuck,” he mutters, resting his hands on the bed. “you look beautiful when you play with my cock, love.” he moans as i slide him into my mouth and down my throat, still looking up to meet his eyes. he reaches over to hold my chin in one hand, gently guiding my head up and down. “that’s it, please keep taking my cock. you’re so pretty when you do so, love. i can’t wait to fuck you, you’ve got me nearly finishing at the thought of it.”

i pump him inside of my throat, feeling his orgasm nearly reach the surface as he groans at the build up of it all. i pull away, taking his length in one hand as he cums onto my face, his seed coating all over my mouth and cheeks.

“oh, fuck, you look so fucking good, [y/n]. your mouth felt so fucking good.” thomas praises, watching as i lean back, tracing my finger across my cheeks, licking his cum off and into my mouth. he stares in awe, reaching his hands over to help me stand up and get back onto the bed. he presses a hard kiss against my lips, laying back down as i lay on top of him.

“i don’t think you understand this, thomas.” i smirk, cupping his face with both of my hands. “you don’t just get to fuck me, you know that, right? you have to earn it. i’m the motherfucking leader of a mob, after all. i don’t fuck just anyone, not even thomas shelby, no matter how good you may be at fucking.”

he tilted his head, grabbing me by the hips and pulling me back down. “is that so? your cunt is practically begging for me to fuck it. we don’t have to play this game, love. please, let me touch you further.”

i roll over and out of his grip, laying down next to him and spreading my legs, gesturing for him to get in front of me. “then fuck me with your tongue, and we’ll see what i think of anything further than that.”

he chuckles, seemingly surprised by how bossy i could be, but leaned down anyway, adjusting himself to wrap his arms around my thighs, his face stuffed between them as his tongue attached to my clit, flicking the bud of sensitive flesh. i moan softly, watching thomas lick between my folds and back up to my clit, back and forth, which only drew a pit in my stomach, as my orgasm slowly began to build. i was more surprised by his efforts more than his experience. of course thomas shelby knew how to fully pleasure a woman when she demanded it.

“fuck, thomas..” i moan softly, reaching down to hold his black hair with one hand. “just like that, baby, and you’ll be fucking me so soon. god, that feels good.”

he quickens his pace a bit, my back gently arching up in reaction to his action, my free hand gripping the white bedsheets as he helped me very quickly reach my orgasm, my fluids releasing onto the sheets and his lips. i dripped down his chin but he didn’t seem to care, taking me by the hips and moving one leg on top of his shoulder, sliding his hard length inside of me with one slow stroke, both of us moaning at the sudden stimulation.

“oh, fucking hell, [y/n], my god, dear, you’re so fucking wet, you feel so good, fuck,” thomas groans, leaning down to kiss me, his free hand taking my breast into his his palm and squeezing harshly, earning a moan from me into his mouth as our tongues fight for dominance.

i pull away from the kiss, looking down to watch him pump his thick, wet cock into my pussy. my tits bounce at his thrusts, my core feeling every single touch. thomas held my ankle to keep my leg up, his other hand pulling away from my breast and down to my hips, holding the side of my waist to further his steady grip.

“you take my cock so well, [y/n].” thomas compliments, glancing down to meet my eyes as i look away from our bodies. “i could watch you forever, fuck. the way you look right now is absolutely stunning, no one can ever fucking compare to your cunt.”

i lean up slightly, resting on my elbows, grinning at thomas as he fucks me. “you really think so, thomas? then why don’t you fuck me harder? make me cum again, baby, i want to so badly. make me cum with you.”

“if you want me to fuck you harder, [y/n], you’re going to have to turn around for me.” thomas suggests, lightly pulling himself out of me and also wiping the sweat from his forehead, assisting me as i turn around, all fours against the bed as i arch my ass up, feeling tommy’s hands play with it by squeezing the flesh and slapping it lightly.

“you’re perfect from behind too, fuck. is there anything about you i can dislike? you italians may have bloody mouth, but you take me so well in yours, love.” he says, pushing himself back inside of me.

he holds me by the hips, starting to fuck me, but much harder than before. our skin slaps together as he pushes himself in much deeper, so much so that i was gasping at his touch, grabbing the sheets and holding them as hard as i could, despite the sweat that was collecting on my palms.

“f-fucking hell, tommy..” i moan into the sheets, my head resting against the pillow. “you fuck me so good, baby, keep going like that, fuck! fucking fill me up, tommy, fuck!”

he leans down to grab my neck, pounding inside of my walls before our moans begin to sync, our orgasms releasing a matter of seconds after as we finish together, his warm seed filling my insides and my own cum dripping from between us, tricking down my now shaking legs.

thomas pulls out of me, turning me over to lay beside him. he wraps one arm around me, but glances down to meet my eyes, and kisses me tiredly.

“next time, you’re going to be the one begging me to fuck you.” he says in a more demanding tone, a small smirk on his lips. “i don’t like to ask nicely.”

i sigh, rolling over onto my stomach so i could face him completely. “then you’re fucking the wrong woman, thomas.”

he shook his head, cupping my cheek and kissing me once more. “oh, believe me, i think i’m with the exact woman i need to be fucking.” he sits up, rolling out of the bed and to the dresser, grabbing a pair of underwear.

“let’s discuss this communist issue one more time, work out the details.” he says, slipping his boxers on. “and if we come to an agreement tonight, i’ll ask nicely again in the morning, unless you need to get back to your people?"

i stand up, picking up my underwear and sliding them on, as thomas hands me a larger white shirt to put on. “i think i’d rather you ask again tonight, mr. shelby. my people can wait overnight if it's for a good cause.” i tease, opening the bedroom door before walking back out to the dining room table, grabbing the half-empty glass of wine and taking it down in one sip.

thomas stands behind me, taking the empty glass and setting it back on the table, pressing himself up against me, placing his palm on my back to push me down on the furniture. "let's push our meeting back a few more minutes then. here's me asking, miss [y/n]."

he begins to kiss my neck and i reach between my legs, pushing my panties to the side as i hear his boxers hit the floor. this was going to be an unexpectedly long night.

[zedecksiew]

TO PUT AWAY A SWORD

David Blandy + Daniel Locke's post-apocalyptic hopepunk TTRPG ECO MOFOS is back from the printers. Meaning it will soon be in our hands.

Am fairly hyped for it, because I wrote an adventure!

To Put Away A Sword is about the woes of building a home on poisoned earth. The terrible powers that hurtled us to the end of the world continue to bear bitter fruit in your garden.

You are villagers living under the shadow of a fallen giant mecha. Its reactors and warheads leak into your groundwater, poison your goats. What will you do about it? What can you do?

+

Mechanically it is a pointcrawl around your local valley. Not super complex, design-wise; but I was pleased with my gimmick solution for mapping both the adventure's dungeons:

Grab a mecha figure, pose it, place it on the game table; each part of the figure corresponds to a location in the dungeon key. Solves for stuff like relative orientation.

Easy!

+

To Put Away A Sword is me making a mecha adventure.

Disclaimer: I am not a mecha nerd. I am unfamiliar with most of the genre. Anything I know about Gundam I've absorbed by osmosis.

I was mainly into giant robots in childhood. Receiving a Macross figure for my birthday. Pouring over the manual for The Crescent Hawks' Revenge, which my brother left behind:

While I was not much a fan of mecha, I was very much a fan of Evangelion. I spent my middle teens obsessed with it. The biomechanical, pseudo-mystical stuff; the teen angst. I wanted to be Shinji. I thought trauma was so cool.

So cringe. Anyway:

One of the inspirations for To Put Away A Sword is the survivors-rebuilding-a-town-and-planting-rice sequence in Thrice Upon A Time; probably my favourite part of the whole franchise, now.

The joy and difficulties of trying to build your paradise in the weird ruins of the old world:

Yeah, the adventure has a lot of Evangelion in it. There's a Nerv HQ analogue to explore. There's a content warning for child soldiers.

+

The other inspiration for To Put Away A Sword is this piece of box art, an accessory set for Macross's iconic Stonewell Bellcom VF-1 Variable Fighter:

I don't know what this kind of arrange-your-missiles-in-front-of-your-fighter-jet photo is technically called. Hardware porn parade?

You see it often enough. Here's a real-life photo of the Lockheed Martin F35 Joint Strike Fighter:

Fairly or not, in my head I associate mecha with seeing copies of Jane's Defence in airport magazine racks. The genre feels like such a natural way to riff on the hyper-charged corpo-military-industrial complex.

After the brush war ends, and the natural resources extracted, and the ethnic cleansing concluded, and the profits announced, who gets to clean up after a Raytheon missile?

In To Put Away A Sword---you do.

+

Ultimately, as always, I am writing and designing from my lived experiences.

See that? The gas flare from the Hengyuan Refining Company? It is about 200 metres from my living room.

That gas flare surfaces constantly in the stuff I make. As I write this post I am breathing its acrid chemical smell. My nose itches. I was asthmatic as a child; I seriously worry about cancer, nowadays.

At night it lights up the sky like Barad-dur.

The plant obviously and continuously flaunts regulations. We've tried lodging complaints: with its corporate management; with the Department of Environment. Nothing has worked so far.

"A home on poisoned earth" is a visceral fact of my life.

+

To Put Away A Sword is wish-fulfilment, I guess? In the world of the adventure, at least, the forces that are poisoning your home are post-peak oil.

It is nice to imagine a reality where a kind of survival and flourishing is still possible. My partner Sharon and I talk a lot about imagining hope.

Last month she bought this small mecha-looking thing. A wireless camera! She built a little hut for it on our garden wall. It is trained, 24-7, at the gas flare.

Environmental activists we've met say video evidence of emissions is important. We'll see. We imagine it helping.

+

Anyway. David just sent me this photo of my adventure, in print:

Looking good. I hope folks play it and enjoy it.

Preorder ECO MOFOS and its adventure bundle >>>HERE<<<

[secfics]

my favourite starker fics, part 1

hi. for my first reclist in this blog, i put together my personal favourite starker fanfics that i re-read again and again. in no particular order and with some cw/dark themes here and there, here they come:

• maybe different, but remember; by RoamingSignals (@spider-mancan), E, 18k, 2/2 chapters

Peter is working at Delmar’s, sorting out tabloids on the rack in the front, and he sees Tony’s face plastered everywhere and then Peter is reading words and then he can’t read anything because he’s crying and his shaking hands rip the magazine in half.

Tony Stark…alive.

He saved the world, saved Peter, and Peter never even got to thank him. Not that it matters now. If Peter was a factor in Tony's decision to snap his fingers, Peter will never know. No one will ever know, because Peter fucked up and now he doesn’t exist.

• touchpoint; by RoamingSignals (@spider-mancan), M, 57’6k, 2/2 chapters

Peter lost a lot of things in Boston. When he lists them out, they fit in the margins of his napkin; his career, his degree, his motivation, his boyfriend, and himself. Not in that order. Not all by mistake.

“You’re just a secretary.” Tony tuts.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a secretary,” Peter says. “Your old secretary is the CEO of SI, these days.”

“Pepper Potts is the smartest woman I’ve ever met,” Tony agrees. “And she never let anyone call her ‘just a secretary.’”

• scaling the walls; by Starker1975 (@starker1975), E, 42’6k, 13/13 chapters

Peter is tired of crushing hopelessly on Tony, so he decides to create an online dating profile to meet someone new. Neither Peter (Webster01) or his strange beau (Mark70) have pictures on their bio. They decide to keep it that way so they can focus on bonding over things besides appearance.

Meanwhile, Tony decides to start spending more time with Peter because people always become interested as soon as you try to move on...

• fucking if; by Graceful_Starker (@graceful-starker), M, 9’7k, 2/2 chapters - cw: implied non-con, not between starker

Peter and Tony in a beginning phases relationship. Then the snap. Peter coming back to Tony, Pepper and Morgan.

• revelations; by Anonymous (#author has already arranged a ride to church trust me), E, 126’8k, 19/19 chapters

“I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?”

An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

• closer to a prayer; by LearnedFoot (@learned-foot), E, 17’4k, oneshot

“I think I’m dying.”

Peter stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, blinking. It feels weird to say it out loud.

In which Peter's powers turn against him, Mr. Stark is back and suddenly acting kind of weird (and by weird he means flirtatious), and it’s all a lot to handle at once.

• stuck; by Heathertastic (@heathertastic), E, 5’4k, oneshot - cw: Accidental Penetration

Tony and Peter get stuck together in a closet the size of Peter himself- and yeah, it’s basically porn without plot.

• Give Me Your Wallet (And Your Watch); by airebellah (@airebellah), M, 30’5k, 10/10 chapters

It was pushing midnight when Peter sent a text to his friend Ned asking for help with a chemistry problem. I know I'm doing something wrong but I can't figure it out, he wrote. He received a text with a picture of the solution. The elegant script should have been the first clue; the fact that it was on the back of a napkin the second. But he was tired, and failed to notice such details.

You misplaced your decimal when converting degrees to Kelvin, came the reply. Rookie mistake.

Gee, thanks, Peter replied with a roll of his eyes. Anything you need help with?

Yeah, who the fuck am I talking to, exactly?

• covet; by Anonymous (#author has already arranged a ride to church trust me), E, 33’9k, 5/5 chapters

Peter has a new boyfriend. Tony starts drinking again, for unrelated reasons.

• uranium heart; by spqr, M, 11´3k, oneshot

It’s probably better, Peter thinks, that he doesn’t know who his soulmate is. He wouldn’t want to lie to them about Spider-Man, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell them the truth, either. Not when he knows it would make them a target for every villain who wants a piece of him.

When he has enough free time to feel sorry for himself, he thinks about how lonely he is and how much he wants someone to talk to--just talk to. But he doesn’t really have that much free time. And anyways, there are thousands of lonely people in New York. Peter’s nothing special.

• another life; by InColor (@incolorwrites), E, 9’3k, oneshot

Tony comes back to a world where everyone's moved on without him.

Peter helps.

• secret santa, baby; by orphan_account, E, 17´3k, 5/5 chapters

Tony never intended to become Peter's Secret Santa. He just sort of stumbles into it. But now that he is, he's going to take advantage of it. Tony's got one week to spoil the kid, one week until Christmas. He just has to make sure that his secret stays secret.

• your thoughts are my desires; by Sparcina (@zsparz), E, 6’2k, 4/4 chapters

Peter doesn't know that Tony can read his thoughts.

Alternatively: Tony gets intimately acquainted with Peter's fantasies feelings.

• peter parker, sexter extraodinaire; by Sparcina (@zsparz), E, 7’5k, 4/4 chapters

Apparently, sexting Mr. Stark by accident is a thing Peter does now. While touching himself. And Tony... Well, he probably shouldn't fantasize about Peter, but the kid's just too damn attractive and brilliant for his own good.

• just for tonight; by keenwonderlandcollector, M, 31’1k, 10/10 - cw: incest/father-son incest

While out at an exhibit, Peter gets into an awkward situation and pretends that Tony, his father, is actually his boyfriend. Tony goes along with it, and Peter soon finds himself enjoying it a little too much…

• from the bounty; by feyrelay (@feyrelay) & natureboy, E, 31’8k, 3/3 chapters

Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

(20k words of food erotica foreplay and 13k words of porn)

• better than; by unsettled (@unsettledink), M, 40’6k, oneshot

Maybe there isn't really a fixed point where it starts, where any of it starts, nothing Tony can point to and say, there, there is where I made my mistake, there is where I could have stopped this, there is where I can stop it from happening again.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been something Tony tried to stop.

(or: the one where Tony is going to be responsible for once, okay? He is!)

• worth the word; by unsettled (@unsettledink), teen and up, 5’4k, oneshot

Valentine’s Day is not Peter’s favorite holiday by a long shot. And it’s not just because he’s a little jealous of everyone else showing off gifts from their partners.

But it’s still really nice that an unknown someone sent him a gift this year. Or two. Or— okay, this is getting out of hand.

• above and beyond; by unsettled (@unsettledink), E, 12’8k, oneshot - cw: incest/father-son incest

Trans Peter telling his dad that he’s never had an orgasm. And Tony eating Peter out until the boy’s oversensitive and crying out “dad” as he comes.

• still use work; by LearnedFoot (@learned-foot), E, 6’5k, oneshot

“In the spirit of scientific discovery,” Tony adds.

“Yeah, the spirit of scientific discovery, exactly.”

Or: Peter has a problem. Tony attempts to solve it. To be helpful, obviously. That’s the only reason.

• a familiar stranger; by Starker1975 (@starker1975), E, 132,1k, 21/21 chapters - cw: incest/father-son incest

Peter's tired of being single, but online dating scares him, so he creates a fake profile to scope out the playing field before fully committing. He isn't sure what to think when he sees his dad's profile on the app.

hope you like them as much as i did!

[akataiii]

Rumbles of a new beginning (KiriBaku)

Katsuki Bakugo is an aggressive 17-year-old UA student with ash blonde hair, piercing red eyes that scream 'Get too close and I'll kill you,' and a quirk called Explosion. He is on his way to becoming a pro hero, now a third year at UA and a part of the new Big 3.

Katsuki Bakugo is also deaf.

As of now, he sits with his eyes glued to a math textbook. People have always praised him for his good grades, especially his classmates who often say they're jealous of how 'naturally gifted' he is. Truth is, it's not natural at all. Katsuki puts in a ton of work to achieve what he does, which is why he is currently busy staring at shitty quadratic formulas and endless graph slopes with tired eyes.

As he stifles a yawn, he feels a slight rumble below him. He waits for a few moments and when nothing else happens he shrugs and returns his attention to his work. Since he became fully deaf, he often sees or feels things that aren't really there, so he's not too bothered. But then, there's another rumble and Katsuki jumps, lifting his gaze to observe his surroundings.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. His folded laundry sits neatly on the chair where he left it. His shoes are still chucked into the corner of his dorm. Hell, even the curtains haven't moved an inch. With a slight irritation crawling under his skin, Katsuki lets out a sigh and focuses on his work once more.

It's only when he feels a third and more powerful rumble that he slams his workbook shut and chucks his pen across the room. He angrily turns his gaze to the alarm clock on his bedside table, which now displays the time '1:53 am.' No wonder he's so annoyed. He never stays up this late.

With an annoyed grunt, Katsuki decides it's high time he settles down and goes to bed. He swings his legs off the side of the bed and walks over to the light switch. He flicks it off and the room is swallowed in darkness. Waiting for his eyes to adjust, he lazily glances at the window and his eyes widen upon realizing that it was raining.

With a bitter feeling forming in his stomach, he steps closer to the window and looks out into the night sky. Just then, a sudden flash of white light illuminates the room and causes Katsuki to jump in surprise. With a newfound anxiety, he flees to the safety of his bed and buries his head under the comforter. Great, just what he needs.

A thunderstorm.

His heart pounds rapidly in his chest and his breaths come out as shaky and uneven gusts of air. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, willing the nausea in his stomach to go away. As his body steadily rids itself of the adrenaline, he racks his brain for solutions to his current predicament.

Katsuki loathes to admit it, but he's terrified of thunderstorms. Not the rain or the bright white flashes of lightning part of it, but the heavy rumble that thunder causes. Yeah, sure, his quirk produces literal explosions, but at least he knows when they're coming. He used to adore thunderstorms. They used to be soothing. But now, they're his greatest enemy.

He hates not knowing when the earth below him would shake. He hates not being able to hear the warning sound before thunder rolls out. He hates not being able to prepare himself for it.

Katsuki's train of thought is interrupted by another mighty rumble and he shuts his eyes so tight he sees stars. He counts to ten. Forward, backward, anything to calm his mind from the unrelenting thunder. Occasionally, he would glance at the window in hope that the rain had stopped, but he's just met with a feeling of dread as the drops of water continue to roll down his window.

At around 2:30 am, Katsuki still hasn't fallen asleep and is just about ready to lose his mind. He picks up his phone and turns it on, wincing at the harsh light of the screen. When he's used to the light, he scrolls through his contact list, not really searching for anyone in particular. Then his eyes land on a certain number and his tired brain finds a solution.

He dials the number, waiting for the person at the other end of the line to pick up and watching as the Facetime rings. There is no answer. The screen flickers back to the chat screen before eventually shutting off completely. Katsuki closes his eyes and he sighs in defeat. It was worth a shot.

He makes peace with the fact that he likely won't be sleeping tonight. He clicks his phone on again and looks for a video to distract himself. He's about halfway through the video when he receives a text and a small smile spreads across his face when he sees who it's from.

Shitty Hair

Seriously Kats? At 2:30 in the morning? I was having such a good dream too. (02:56)

Katsuki chuckles at the message. Kirishima was usually a pretty cheery guy, but wake him up from his REM cycle and the guy has enough irritation to rival Katsuki's own. He eagerly types a reply.

Me

Yeah, yeah whatever. Now that you're up though... How's the weather up there? (02:56)

Shitty Hair

We're on the same floor? And you're taller than me! (02:57)

Me

Kirishima. The weather... (02:57)

Shitty Hair

What? (02:58)

Oh! I'm coming! (02:59)

Katsuki shuts his phone off to stare at the ceiling as he waits for Kirishima to arrive. It's not long before Katsuki's lights flicker on and off; Kirishima's own personal way of signaling his arrival.

The blonde sits up in his bed as Kirishima flicks the lights on once more. Katsuki's dorm lights up and it takes a moment for the blonde's eyes to readjust. Once he's settled though, he focuses his attention on Kirishima who sits and waits at the edge of the bed with a soft smile.

"Hi," Katsuki mumbles. He hopes it's loud enough, given he can't exactly tell apart from how hard the vibration is in his throat.

Kirishima waves a hand at him. 'Hi,' Katsuki reads his lips.

'What's up?' he reads again, and he brings his shoulders up in a half-hearted shrug.

"Thunder," Katsuki mumbles.

Kirishima nods his head in understanding. 'Want me to...' Kirishima starts, his words trailing off until his mouth forms a perfect O and he's looking off to the side. His hands are frozen mid-air where he had started signing to accompany his words.

Katsuki quirks a brow in question. Back in first year, he would probably be lashing out at the guy by now and calling him a dumbass, but Katsuki knows better now. So he sits and waits patiently for Kirishima to finish.

Katsuki is efficient at reading lips and the rest of the class knew that, so they never really put in the effort to learn sign language. All except for Kirishima. Katsuki felt honored that Kirishima put in the extra hours after school to learn sign language just for him. He was far from perfect but he was certainly getting there. And Katsuki won't lie and say he doesn't enjoy it when Kirishima randomly shows up in his dorm to show him some new signs that he learned. It was something Katsuki looked forward to, really.

It takes a few moments, but Kirishima eventually continues after some thinking. 'Want me to sleep with you?' he signs.

Okay. So, maybe Katsuki really is losing it, or maybe he's just tired and his eyes are playing tricks on him, but at that moment he feels his face heat up and his breath catches in his throat. Did Kirishima seriously just ask to sleep with him??

The logical part of Katsuki's tired brain kicks into gear and scolds him and his teenage hormones. Kirishima was a good guy who cared about his friends, so obviously he had meant it in a very innocent and caring way. Like sleeping on the floor next to Katsuki's bed. Not like it would help.

Right that moment another white flash lights up Katsuki's room and a second later there's a rumble beneath them. Shit. Katsuki completely forgot about the stupid thunderstorm. He jumps and lets out a yelp, if the vibration in his throat is anything to go by.

Katsuki scrambles on the bed and latches onto Kirishima's upper arm, burying his face into his chest. Before he has a chance to regret his actions, two strong arms wrap around his torso and pull him closer for a hug. Katsuki is enveloped by a scent that could only belong to Kirishima; like earth with a musky undertone. It reminds Katsuki of walking through a rainforest and the scent fills him with a sense of peace.

His arms that were holding onto Kirishima's upper arm move down to wrap around the red head's torso as well, squeezing him tightly. Katsuki buries his face in the crook of Kirishima's neck, basking in his scent and allowing it to distract him from the weather.

They sit like that for quite some time, one of Kirishima's hands rubbing gentle circles on Katsuki's back. The blonde closes his eyes and appreciates the comforting feeling that Kirishima provides.

The bright flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder that used to be daunting fade away into the background as Katsuki focuses on Kirishima's gentle breathing and his hand which is still rubbing random patterns onto the blonde's back.

At some point though, Katsuki feels the red head's muscles tense and he's forcefully pushed away. Katsuki blinks his eyes open and is assaulted by the bright light of his room. Kirishima looks panicked as he hastily starts to sign something.

'Stay. Stay. Stay,' he frantically signs and Katsuki furrows his brows in confusion. He tilts his head to the side and scrunches his nose to show he is very lost.

Kirishima's cheeks are painted red in embarrassment as he starts to explain. 'I meant to ask if I should stay with you not sleep with you.'

As soon as he finishes signing that, he buries his face in his hands and turns his body to face away from Katsuki.

Katsuki blinks in surprise before he feels himself start to softly chuckle. And before long those chuckles turn into full-blown laughter that he has to stifle with the back of his hand so as to not wake anyone else on the floor.

Kirishima lifts his face from his hands, embarrassment quickly giving way to joy as he starts to laugh along with Katsuki. The blonde opens his eyes to see Kirishima's body shaking with laughter and a sudden wave of sadness washes over him.

Maybe not sadness per se but rather a feeling of longing. He can see Kirishima laughing but he can hear nothing. And he misses it. Misses hearing the red head's obnoxious yet strangely infectious laugh. He misses being able to pick him out of a crowd, solely by the sound of his voice. He longs to hear it, just one last time.

"I miss your voice," Katsuki says and he hopes he sounds okay. The vibrations in his throat felt right.

Kirishima blinks at him for a second or two, the gears visibly shifting in his brain before he eventually figures it out and smiles at Katsuki. His eyes are filled with so much fondness. So much care and kindness it almost makes Katsuki want to cry.

He doesn't get the chance though, as Kirishima signs, 'I think the thunder is done.'

Katsuki takes a glance at the window. There's still rain pattering against the window but he notes that the lightning has seemed to have calmed down, and there hasn't been a rumble in a while.

He feels his heart beat lighter with relief. Katsuki turns to look over at Kirishima, surprised to find the red head had moved closer from the edge of the bed and was now sitting square in front of him.

He feels a warm hand rest on top of his own and Katsuki's eyes flit down to take a look. When he looks back up, Kirishima's face is inches from his own.

Katsuki swallows, heart beating wildly in his chest at their close proximity. He has no idea what is about to happen or what Kirishima is thinking.

Katsuki feels his hand being brought up before it rests on Kirishima's rising and falling chest. Katsuki can feel his muscles through his T-shirt, proof of Kirishima's hard work and determination to become a hero. The red head had put that same effort into becoming a hero for Katsuki, one of the few people who learned sign language.

'Hey,' Katsuki reads Kirishima's lips. The red head smiles softly before speaking again. 'I know you can't hear me, but can you feel it?'

Katsuki can only assume he means the vibrations coming from Kirishima's chest, so he nods, gently grabbing hold of the T-shirt's material.

'It's not much, but if you ever just want to feel me talk, I'm here.' Kirishima's eyes were filled to the brim with unbridled fondness, and this time Katsuki couldn't stop the tears from falling.

It wasn't that he was full-on sobbing, just a quick one or two tears before he felt alright again. Kirishima's free hand came up and wiped those lonely tears away.

"You don't have to stay," Katsuki whispers.

'I want to,' Kirishima replies with a soft smile.

And who is he, Katsuki Bakugo, to argue? They set up some blankets on the floor for Kirishima and try to sleep. Katsuki would have loved to chat more but they are heroes in training and time waits for no one. They needed some sleep.

Katsuki welcomes the darkness that is sleep easily, tired eyes drifting shut and breathing evening out until he's slowly slipping away. And if he feels his mattress sink with the weight of another human, he says nothing. And if he also feels himself being pulled onto a strong chest to feel the soft vibrations of humming, he says nothing about that either.

And if he feels his heart beating happily with love for a certain red head– Well... He might just say something about that in the future.

[popodoki]

Hey, teacher! Aka my damn motorcycle Catwin AU! Part 2! Cause I'm easily swayed x

In this AU, Edwin is a school teacher, and Thomas owns a really cool motorcycle :'')

I think its pretty clear, but just for the record: I am taking various liberties with characters etc here

I also know nothing about astrology, friends x

Edwin sighs as he looks over the latest batch of exam scores from his class.  High grades from his studious pupils as usual, lower grades from the boys who were almost equally as bright, but didn't put forth the effort. A long-standing issue, one the school board doesn’t seem half as concerned with as he is. Now alone in his classroom, Edwin hears the final bell, the ensuing floor-shaking exodus of students to the open air. He leans back in his seat, vowing to try to come up with some sort of solution to this problem later.   

He packs some essays to read, homework that still need to be graded, into his briefcase, retrieves his coat from the rack in the corner on the way to the door.  He very much needs a nice cup of coffee. 

"Hey, Mister Edwin!" A loud shout echoes from the end of the hallway, and Edwin frowns, to himself, turning to face the student that the other teachers have affectionately likened to a bird.   

"Mr. Finch, I have repeatedly told you to call me Mr. Payne. Not to refer to me by my first name, and especially not within the school grounds." 

The teen has the grace to look apologetic, yet in pure young-spirited fashion, physically shrugs off the comment just a moment later. “I’m sorry Mr. Payne. But I have good news for you!  Check it out!"  The young man pulls a thick book out of his shoulder bag, flips it open to a page, bookmarked with a grey and blue checkered bit of laminated paper, thrusts the turned book and open page at Edwin, near bouncing with anticipation.  Edwin bends his head and glances, inspects the writing, charts and scribbles. It's a large astrology analysis.  On the top of the page, written in bold letters is 'Capricorn'. Below, Edwin skims through a far too large amount of text, even for an avid reader, and regrettably still unwillingly picks up phrases such as ‘You’re in the market for a partnership, and you might be pleasantly surprised, Capricorn.’, ‘Any existing relationship can deepen through dialogue.’ or ‘Saturn favours staying power, so look for a plus-one who’s in it for the long haul.’ Edwin skims faster, rereading the same few sentences to stall, making an estimate of a more natural seeming amount of time to read a prediction of his love life, from an astrology tome held up by a fifteen year old. 

Next to all of this utter tripe, is a note stating 'check star alignment!'   

Edwin can't help but smile, still, at the student’s obvious enthusiasm for the subject.     

"Isn't that great news?" Monty Finch asks him with an answering smile, "Not only does your horoscope predict it, but I did in fact check, of course, and the star alignment today is also very favourable.  Know what that means?" He adds in a conspiring, whispering tone. 

"You have a bit too much free time and need to be assigned more homework?" Edwin asks, with a hint of a smile still on his cheeks and a tilt of his head to accompany his teasing intention.   

The teen starts up his own analysis of the analysis, and Edwin knows if he doesn't put a stop to this conversation, Monty will keep talking, undeterred, for the next 20 minutes.  "Alright, well Mr. Finch, thank you for sharing your inspiring passion for astrology. Enjoy your weekend."  He pats the boy semi-affectionately on the shoulder, and brushes past him with long strides, beating a hasty retreat. 

"Trust in the stars, Mr. Payne!" 

Edwin tosses his brown leather shoulderbag into the passenger's seat of his car, pulls out of the school's parking lot, sighs deeply, rolls the windows down and lets the crisp air fill the car, rustle his hair.   

He passes the Allcott estate on his way into town, glances out the window at it as he passes, though he doesn't know what he expects to find. The outer gates are closed, locked, he can't really see past them, so he shrugs to himself, refocuses on the road.   

Port Townsend is one of the most affluent in the state. The people who live here have money, and they like to show it off. The school Edwin works for is a private, all-boys school that prides itself on how many of its students move on to acclaimed universities and careers pre-planned by either doting or detached parents. The houses are beautiful and scenic, most of the people are shallow and nosy.    

Edwin pulls to a stop when he finds a good parking space, a few blocks away from his favourite coffee shop. It's small, locally owned, and one of Edwin's favourite things to do is order one of their dark roasts, with a scone, that is decidedly nothing at all like a bisquit, and settle in one of the overstuffed chairs by the window while he grades papers.   

When the little bell above the door softly chimes as he walks in, he's happy to see that his favourite barista is behind the counter, studiously arranging the pastries.  "Hi Edwin!"  She chirps, and immediately sets to the task of hand-grinding the beans for his coffee.   

“Hello, Niko, good afternoon.” Edwin smiles at her and looks for a seat, settling in with a cursory glance through the window. The smile falls from his face.   

He's utterly confused, instead, looks around to see if anyone has noticed that this is happening, or if he's just imagining it. A little shake of his head doesn’t clear the vision; the sleek black and brown motorcycle parked next to the curb across from the café. The man sitting on the bench near it in the lightest definition of the word ‘sitting’, limbs spread akimbo across the furniture, head lolled back against the backrest.  

"Quite weird, right?  I gave him a cup of coffee to go, and then he didn’t actually go. He pretty much fell right to sleep on that bench. I don’t think that’s a good position to sleep in.  But, he looked so tired I don't have the heart to disturb him. And nobody has passed that bench, the bike is turned off and parked legally, so I don't think anyone minds. Have you ever seen a bike like that? I like his jacket, so cool!" Niko smiles, retrieves his scone and reaches for a mug just as the coffee finishes brewing. Edwin thanks her, but holds up a hand, silently asking her to wait as he chooses another corner of the coffee shop, making sure he can keep the bench and its occupant in his line of vision, though he can't pin down exactly why.  

Probably just the novelty of it all. Port Townsend was a town steeped in tradition, both in values and a clockwork year-round schedule. The town council kept everything pretty, decent, and calm. If Edwin was completely honest with himself, it was the reason he settled here.   

He's interrupted from his wandering thoughts, when the sound of several high-pitched voices, barely audible over the loud clacking chorus of stiletto heels on well-maintained concrete reaches his ears. 

Oh no. This is going to go really bad, really fast. 

Edwin is out of his seat, ignoring Niko’s questioning little “Edwin?”, and heading for the door before he’s even consciously considered the decision. As soon as he’s greeted by the warm air outside, he’s also greeted by the sight of one Esther Finch, and several members of the Homeowner’s Association. When that calculating gaze locks on Edwin, and stays so, Edwin spares a thought, a quick mental note, that Monty must have been wrong about the star alignment. He does not feel particularly pleasantly surprised, at all.  

[torscrawls]

Fractured

Summary:

“I—I don’t—” Danny hesitated. “I don’t remember.” Tucker and Sam exchanged a look and Danny tensed up. Tucker asked carefully, “What don’t you remember?” “Anything! We were in the kitchen, fighting the Lunch Lady, Sam called out to me because the ghost threw a chunk of meat and then… Then we were here.” OR Danny can’t remember anything that happens while he’s Phantom and it’s starting to catch up to him.

Words: 3 377

You can read the whole thing on AO3.

This is inspired by a holiday truce prompt from @ectospacecadet! They just had too many good ideas that my brain latched onto for the gift exchange!

-

“Danny! You’re back!” Sam sounded half-way to hysterical and Danny blinked  open his eyes in confusion.

Tucker immediately grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”

“…What?” Danny blinked and sat up. He looked round the lab and took in the sight of his panicking friends, the smell of smoke, and the swirling portal in front of them. “It turned on?”

“What do you mean it turned on?!” Tucker exclaimed, still gripping his shoulders too hard. “You turned it on!”

Danny frowned. “I did?”

He looked down on his aching hand, surprised at seeing the burn covering his palm. Well, that would explain the pain he felt through his whole body.

He had a vague memory of going into the portal and falling, and then… nothing. He had no idea how he had ended up on the other side of the lab.

“Yeah!” Tucker nodded. “And then you turned into a ghost and—”

Danny snapped his head up. “I turned into what?!”

“A ghost…?” Tucker trailed off.

“No I didn’t?

Sam and Tucker exchanged a look. Sam crouched down in front of him. “Danny? What do you remember?”

Danny frowned. “I walked into the portal. I think I stumbled on something, and then I fell, and then… I woke up here?” He hadn’t intended to make it a question, but he couldn’t help it. What was going on?

“You…” Sam trailed off, hesitating. “You came out of the portal though? As a ghost?”

Tucker nodded. “Yeah, you were all glowy and stuff.”

“What?” Danny frowned, looking down at his decidedly non-glowing hands. “No?”

Tucker let go of his shoulders. “You don’t remember?”

Danny shook his head.

Sam tilted her head as she studied Danny. “So you mean you don’t remember anything that happened while you were a ghost?”

“I’m not a ghost!”

“You were though,” Tucker insisted.

Sam frowned. “But we talked with you! You were… normal.”

Danny didn’t know what to say to that. Tucker shook his head. “I’m sure it’s just the shock.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed without believing it. “Probably.”

—

It wasn’t just the shock.

During the following days he experienced several unexpected side-effects of his forgotten stunt in the ghost portal . Like falling through the floor. Dropping stuff. Turning invisible. Flying.

Which were apparently things that ghosts could do. Because he had ghost powers now.

Because he had died.

Danny’s crisis had barely started before he had to push it all down to deal with later because of a ghost attack. Apparently he hadn’t been the only ghost coming out of the newly opened portal and this one was pissed that they had changed the lunch menu.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker ducked flying sausages and waves of unidentifiable meats while they tried to come up with a solution that would make sure they left the school alive.

Danny ducked what looked like a steak morphed with a rack of ribs and swore as it absolutely demolished the table behind him.

“Danny!” Sam called out from behind him, “Watch out!”

Danny turned towards the ghost, saw the big chunk of dripping meat hurling right for his head, and instinctively pulled on the coldness in his chest and—

And blinked as he was suddenly outside the school. His arm ached.

Danny looked around with wide eyes and saw Sam and Tucker standing next to him, talking about something he couldn’t completely follow. Both of them were banged up with bruises and scabs and Danny couldn’t remember anything that had happened.

He looked down at his left arm as he took in the wound he didn’t remember getting. Danny cast around for the Lunch Lady, but he couldn’t see her anywhere, so instead he turned to his friends with a slightly strangled, “What happened?”

Tucker frowned at him. “What?”

“Where is the Lunch Lady? Are you okay? How did we end up out here?!” Danny asked with an increasing level of panic in his voice. Why couldn’t he remember anything?

Sam joined in with Tucker’s frowning. “…Danny, are you okay?”

Was he?

“I—I don’t—” Danny hesitated. “I don’t remember.”

Tucker and Sam exchanged a look and Danny tensed up. Tucker asked carefully, “What don’t you remember?”

“Anything! We were in the kitchen, fighting the Lunch Lady, Sam called out to me because the ghost threw a chunk of meat and then… Then we were here.”

Tucker blinked as his frown deepened. “Man. You turned into a ghost again and fought her!”

“I… did?”

Sam jumped in. “Yeah! All glowing and stuff.”

Tucker placed a hand on his arm. “We thought you were fine! You seemed completely fine!”

“You mean I remembered everything?” Danny wrung his hands. The wound he didn’t remember getting ached. “When I was a… ghost?”

Tucker nodded. “Yeah!”

“But then why can't I…”

“I'm sure it'll be fine,” Sam said in what Danny was sure she thought was a comforting tone of voice. It didn’t help much. “It might just be a slight hiccup? Or maybe you hit your head?”

He didn't know what kind of hiccup could erase your memory so completely, but he nodded anyway. Instead he carefully asked, “Did I… Do something weird?”

Sam tilted her head. “Weird? What do you mean?”

“When I fought the Lunch Lady. Was I… Was I acting like myself?”

Sam laughed. “Who else would you be acting like?”

“Yeah man,” Tucker agreed and punched Danny lightly in the arm. Right on his new wound. “Just because you look strange doesn’t mean that you are, you know?”

Danny didn’t know.

—

It didn't go away. If anything, it got worse. With more and more ghosts showing up through the portal he found that he more often than not needed to turn into one himself to fight them off.

Besides, every time a ghost showed up he felt this intense need to pull on the new cold residing deep in his chest, and afterwards he could never remember what happened.

It was just. Completely blank.

Apparently Phantom was just like him. Same memories, same mannerisms, same way of being. Except that he was very much dead.

Sam and Tucker had tried to find out more by talking to him and apparently he didn't have the same issues of not remembering things as Danny had. Apparently being dead meant that you remembered everything just fine, whether from when you were alive or dead. Go figure.

He knew he shouldn’t talk about him as a separate person, since apparently they were the same person, but it didn’t feel like it.

It felt like someone was taking his place.

“Maybe it’s like... A translation error? When you change from ghost to human?” Sam mused while they were walking home from school. 

Tucker perked up. “Like a hard drive that’s not compatible with your system!”

Danny cast him an annoyed look. “I’m not a computer.”

Tucker wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye. “And I mourn that fact every day.”

“This is serious!” Danny crossed his arms. They might be able to joke about this, but it wasn’t—It wasn’t funny. Not to him.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t kidding. Maybe there’s just something inherently different between how the living and dead think. The dead seem to be able to remember their life as humans, but maybe the same isn’t true when you go the other way.”

Danny let his crossed arms drop back down to his sides. “Maybe… But then what can I—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before they were interrupted by a laughing, glowing, flying, and burning robot ghost blasting through the wall of a building in front of them. “I’ll get you this time, whelp!” And he was pointing right at Danny.

Danny froze. “Who is that?!”

“What do you mean who is that?!” Sam exclaimed as she dove for cover. “It's Skulker! The ghost we fought last week, don't you reme—” Sam cut herself off.

“No, I don't,” Danny bit out.

“No time right now!” Tucker screamed as he joined her behind the bench. “Less talking, more fighting!”

And he turned to look at Danny. Danny, who was still standing frozen in the middle of the street. The ghost apparently named Skulker laughed and extended what looked like huge rockets from his shoulders.

“Danny! You have to go ghost!” Tucker called.

“I—” He hesitated. He didn’t want to. “I don’t—”

“There’s no time!” Sam yelled as she brought out her own ectogun, pitifully small in comparison to Skulker’s weapons, now aimed right at Danny. “Danny, just do it!”

Skulker fired.

Danny closed his eyes and reached for the cold inside of him.

And then he opened them again and it was over.

Tucker was next to him, smiling and jumping. “That was so cool! You just—Just flew and shot him and—!”

Danny looked down at his hands. They were smeared with green. “What did I do?”

Sam slapped him on the back with a wide smile. “You kicked Skulker’s butt!”

“I…did?” His hands started shaking.

“Danny?” Tucker asked carefully, his smile dying down. “You okay?”

Danny lowered his hands and hid them behind his back. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

Sam’s smile dropped. “No memory again?”

Danny looked away.

“Here! I took a photo this time- Maybe it will help?” Tucker said hopefully, holding out his phone to show him.

Danny grabbed the phone with shaking hands and looked down at the image of a glowing ghost with white hair and dressed in a black jumpsuit. Danny traced the outline of what was supposed to be him.

He pressed his lips together, looked away and handed the phone back to Tucker.

He didn't want to see this person, this ghost, who had stolen all of his memories, made him a fragment of himself.

It felt like dying. Like the death he had cheated when he had his portal accident was creeping up on him.

—

The ghosts got stronger and the gaps in Danny's memories got longer.

It wasn't unusual for him to forget whole days and it got harder and harder to follow along with what was going on around him. It started to leak into his every-day life as well and Danny had a suspicion it came with him becoming more ghostly even as a human. Like right now; he had been doing his homework and then—

Then he came to with something warm and wet dripping down his face. He was lying down on his back, something hard and cold beneath him. His head throbbed. Danny slowly sat up to find himself in a small crater of cracked concrete. 

He looked around and his breathing hitched.

There was devastation all around. He was… He was outside the mall, or what was left of it. Collapsed walls, split streets, several demolished cars and streetlamps, and almost no humans in sight. There was a dragon in the sky above, all glowing otherworldliness and booming roars that shook the ground beneath Danny’s already rattled body.

Danny’s breathing picked up and his rib cage hurt. He couldn’t hear anything except the dragon’s loud roar echoing through his skull. He needed to get out of there. He scrambled to his hands and knees, green dripping down his nose and splattering on the cracked asphalt. And then his arms gave out.

Danny screamed into the ground in fear and frustration.

A sudden whining sound reached him and then something hot and bright slammed into the ground next to him, leaving a smoking crater. 

Danny scrambled to his feet, stumbled a few steps, and then his knees buckled. His palms stung and he smelled burnt citrus and smoke. Smelled his own blood.

He didn't know who this ghost was. He didn't know what they wanted or what he himself had been doing. He didn't even know where his friends were.

As if hearing his panicked thoughts, Sam and Tucker popped up from behind an overturned car.

Sam cupped her hands over her mouth and screamed, “Danny! You okay?!”

Danny didn’t know how to answer that so he simply blinked and tried to breathe through the pain and panic.

Out of the corner of his eye he distantly noted that the ghost had turned towards his friends and raised its hands and fired another set of glowing energy. That… That wasn’t good.

“Danny!” Tucker screamed and there was real fear in his voice. Danny reacted on instinct, tugging on that cold feeling in his chest, felt the transformation pass over him, and then—

And then the fight was over. He was on the other side of town and his friends were nowhere in sight.

At least this time there weren’t any ghosts in the sky. That he could see. Danny took a step before stopping in place as an involuntary noise of pain tore from his throat.

He wouldn’t be able to make it back home by himself.

“Guys?!” He called out to the empty street. “Where are you? Are you okay?” Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. “…What happened?”

The silence was broken by a cheery tune and Danny frowned at the out-of-place sound. Then his brain registered it as his ringtone and he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. It had a new crack though the center but after a couple of tries he managed to answer the call from Tucker. “…Tuck?”

“Danny?! Where are you? You okay?”

“I—” Danny looked around and decided to answer the easier of the two questions. “I’m next to the library. In front of the park.”

“We’ll be right there!”

Then he hung up and Danny was left in silence. He limped over to the edge of the park and stood next to a cluster of trees, feeling a bit better when he was slightly hidden from view.

He zoned out, swaying where he stood and trying not to think about what had just happened. How he felt.

“Danny?”

Danny looked up, blinking in surprise when he came face to face with Tucker and Sam, both of who looked slightly scratched up but otherwise okay. They were both looking at him with worried expressions.

He opened his mouth to answer them, but all that came out was a sob.

And then there were hands on him, careful and light, but they still hurt. Everything just hurt.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re fine,” Tucker said as he frowned when he took in the state Danny was in.

Sam nodded and added, “You did it.”

Danny sucked in a shaking breath and managed, “But I didn’t. I just—We were in school and then at the mall and now I’m here, and I don’t—” his breath caught painfully in his throat. “I can’t—I can’t remember.”

The hands on his shoulders tightened as Danny slumped, his legs not able to hold him up any longer. He was carefully lowered to the ground. Sam, speaking with forced calm, “Come on, let’s sit down.”

Tucker added a slightly panicked, “And breathe, please.”

And Danny did his best to fulfill his request. They sat in silence for several long minutes as Danny got himself back under some semblance of control, the panic pushed back to its usual simmering where it always resided nowadays.

“Alright,” Danny said as he dragged a hand down his face. “So what happened this time?”

Tucker gave him a dubious look. “You sure you're good?”

Danny nodded even though he really, really wasn't. But he needed them to tell him what he had done, what had happened. “Please. I need to know.”

Sam heaved a deep sigh, leaning back on her hands from where she sat next to Danny in the grass. “Where should we even start?”

“Yeah, dude,” Tucker said as he crossed his legs, “it's starting to get hard to clue you in to what's happening every time you change.”

Sam nodded with a worried frown. “It's starting to feel like talking to two different people.”

Danny tensed in fear as a wave of fresh panic washed over him. “What do you mean? Is Phantom acting differently?”

Tucker gave him a strange look. “You aren't acting differently, it’s just hard since you don't remember anything that's going on.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “it's starting to become dangerous.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?” And even Danny himself was surprised at the anger in his voice, but he had run out. He was empty. He just wanted a break.

Sam shook her head, “No, that’s not what we—

“I’m so sorry that this is inconvenient to you!”

“Danny, stop,” Tucker pleaded.

“No! I’m— I can’t just— Who even am I anymore?!” Danny covered his face with his hands, not wanting to look at them anymore. “Is he the real Danny?!”

“Stop being dramatic,” Sam said, but there was more worry than annoyance in her voice and it only made Danny more scared. If even Sam was worried about this situation then he might be truly fucked.

Tucker added, “And you have to breathe.”

“Do I?! Aren't I dead?!” Danny growled as he lowered his hands back down.

“We can—” Sam said and then hesitated. “We can solve this.” 

“How?!” Danny demanded.

“I don't know!” Sam threw her hands in the air. “Maybe… Maybe we should ask you when you're a ghost? Since you remember more then?”

Danny felt betrayal well up inside of him, hot and sharp and burning. And then the panic came back. “You like him better, don't you?” 

Sam held her hand up in front of her with wide eyes. “No! Of course we don't! Danny, it's still you. You know that and—” 

“I don’t know that!” Danny bit out. “I can’t remember anything!”

Silence. Sam and Tucker kept their eyes on the ground, their shoulders raised high.

Danny felt shame crawl up his throat; he hadn't meant to take it out on them. He slumped back where he sat, looking up at the sky. He let out a long breath, ignoring the way his ribs twinged. “Maybe my parents are right.”

Sam and Tucker both blinked at him and Sam breathed out an incredulous, “…What?”

“I mean. Phantom. He’s, I don’t know, replacing me? Isn’t that the same as haunting me?”

Tucker shook his head. “No, Danny, it’s still you.”

“No, it’s not. I can’t remember any of it,” Danny argued, but the anger was gone from his voice. He only felt tired.

“So then you're going to, what?” Sam asked incredulously, “Ask them to attack you?!”

“No. No. I just. Maybe they can help to… get rid of him? Make him go away?” Danny blinked up at the clouds in wonder. It was so simple, why hadn't he seen it before?

“Danny, no. That is not the answer,” Tucker said with a shaking voice and Danny looked down at his friends to find them looking at him with horrified expressions.

He tilted his head to the side. “Do you have a better idea? Do any of you have a single other idea on what to do? I can’t—I can’t keep doing this.”

Tucker looked down at his hands and then carefully said, “…What if you just stopped transforming into Phantom?”

“You’re the ones who always insists that I need to transform! Besides, we all know I can’t do that. Who else is going to protect everyone in town?” He paused and then pressed on, “Protect you?”

They were both silent. That was answer enough.

Danny struggled to his feet with a groan. “I want to go home. I’m tired.”

A cold feeling forced itself up his throat and escaped his lips like a dying breath. Danny slumped where he stood, too tired and worn out to hide his dismay.

Of course another ghost had to attack right now. Of course.

Sam and Tucker both raised their hands as if to stop him but Danny took a short step back to avoid it. Sam looked up at him with wet eyes as Tucker said, voice choked, “Danny you don't have to—”

But he did. He always did.

Before his friends could say something else, Danny tugged on the cold feeling in his chest and closed his eyes.

The cold spread and spread and spread.