#The man of principle never forgets what he is because of what others are

[mesetacadre]

I'm far from the first person to say this but there is a lot of overcompensating that goes on when communists oppose criticisms of specific communist figureheads. Stalin did not personally order the genocide of millions of people but he also wasn't the sole builder of socialism, nor was he the source of every good policy the USSR implemented. Same goes for Mao, Honecker, Lenin, Castro, etc. I don't think I need to harp on about why it's a remain of liberal historiography and ideology, although that should be acknowledged. Following in the same vein as this other post of mine, it constitutes a conscious and prolongued effort as a communist to adopt class, and more generally, a focus on the collective and processes instead of individual actions as the vehicle of your discourse. The better perspective with which to approach criticisms of a single transistor is to recontextualize it within the whole CPU that it's a part of, if you allow me the metaphor. You hinder yourself when you stoop down to the level of great man theory.

Lenin is a particular example because he tends to be great-manned both from the perspective of people criticizing and defending Stalin. He was neither a pure-hearted libertarian who was betrayed after his death by a conniving Stalin who hid Lenin's thought on him and who arrested/killed every other opponent, nor was Stalin a 1:1 replica of Lenin's positions but in a different stage of socialism. In both of these positions the role of the Bolshevik's party mechanisms and channels are completely ignored, as if it was a simple hereditary mechanism. In a democratic centralist organization, the Congress is the supreme organ of decision, and every office, from General Secretary to the base militant, is beholden to its decisions and has the duty to carry them out, as well as to contribute in its democratic process. Lenin was the Chairman of the Council of People's Commissar, sure, and the de facto "leader". The CPC was a mostly executive office, but like any other organ in the CP, it had a decided political role. The Congress is still the highest organ.

In the 13th Congress, when Stalin was elected to the position of General Secretary, there were 748 voting delegates. It is a misrepresentation of democratic-centralist principles to discount or ignore the vote of these 748 delegates. Lenin, as much as he was an important figure, was not the only politically competent communist, nor the only influential one. Never, even during the tensest months of the civil war or the underground work, was Lenin's criteria followed without criticism or input. He wasn't infallible or without fault, anyone can make mistakes or forget to consider some angles. This is also why Lenin was such a respected leader, because he did not govern alone. Stalin also governed like that, quite famously being skilled at listening to a discussion and being able to synthesize everyone's positions into a logical common ground. I am less concerned with what Lenin, at the end of his life, after two gunshots and a few strokes, personally thought of Stalin's aptness for the position, and more concerned with the opinions of those 748 delegates, all taking into account the discussions that took place in every lower organ of the party. What matters is that the party, democratically, elected Stalin to the position multiple times, and that his responsibility in leading cooperatively were proven competent throughout his tenure. Lenin was not an angel, nor the embodied spirit of revolutionary marxism. He was a very skilled and knowledgeable revolutionary whose words are not the gospel. The achievements made by Stalin's collective leadership (plus the entire party!) and the effective advancement of socialism are much more important than Lenin's opinion, as much as we can respect him. He wasn't clairvoyant

[servantofthefates]

Life-Changing Money Manifestation Tip 💰

This is not a technique I learned from books, or a principle my elders taught me. It is simply something I have observed to be unfailingly effective.

I know it might seem counterintuitive, impractical, and perhaps even downright foolish. But it has been consistently true for me and the people around me.

The tip is: Never ever be frugal with money.

Even when you're afraid you won't have enough, be open-handed with your spending. Spend on your needs, spend on your wants, spend on others who deserve your generosity. Just. Keep. Spending.

The fuck, right? What if you already don't have enough to begin with?

Well, you know how they say, "Love is infinite" or "There's enough love to go around" or "Love multiplies, it doesn't divide"?

The same is true for money.

Money is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like coins, bills or gold.

Love too is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like kisses, words or gifts.

And it is common knowledge that if we wish to be loved, we must first love ourselves, and give love freely to those who are worth it. We must let love flow through us.

Same with money. If we want to have it, we must first spend it on ourselves and give it freely to those we deem worth it. We must let money flow through us.

And flow it will.

Just as it is nearly impossible for a cold-hearted person to invite love, it is also very hard for a stingy person to invite money.

I have seen this first-hand many times.

This man owned a boutique advertising agency. He gave out bonuses and free international trips to his team the way corporations give out cheap pizzas to their employees. And back then, this man's business thrived. Some months, he made more than global agencies did. And the awards were pouring in too. He was on top of the world.

Suddenly, his elderly mother got terribly sick, and he panicked. He knew he had to spend a fortune on her medical bills, and his fear got the best of him. So he cancelled the free trips. He stopped giving bonuses. Eventually, he even cut down salaries and moved to a smaller office.

One year later, his business went bankrupt. Because all his talented employees left. And with that, the trust of his clients dried out. His business — which had the potential to become an empire — ended up becoming just a TikTok trend.

Because he held on to money too tightly... money felt suffocated and walked out on him entirely.

The opposite example is me. No, I do not also own an ad agency. But I have learned to never worry about money. And since then, money has never disappointed me.

Last year, someone dear to me had been praying for a MacBook, but her parents couldn't afford it. I too couldn't afford it. Not without digging into my savings. So I did. Because I know money will always come back to me. And it did.

Two days after I placed the order, I received an email from Shareworks that my stocks were ready to be withdrawn. The amount? Double what I paid for the Mac. These stocks are released yearly, so I tend to forget about them. But they came at the right time.

And it is like this every time.

I buy a Louis Vuitton bag with money meant for my holiday. Suddenly, a friend invites me to go with them on a fully paid trip to the same country I was planning to visit.

I buy a bunch of tarot decks with a week's worth of transportation costs, and my company announces we're working from home for a week while they repair some rain damage.

I buy a box of Patchi chocolates when I'm already short on my monthly budget, and my salary gets released early because it's the holidays, and the CEO is feeling friendly.

I know life is not always as sweet as I described it to be. Sometimes, it's not about Louis Vuittons and Patchis, but about diapers and cough medicine. I am perfectly aware some people are struggling — not about holidays and tarot splurges, but about keeping the electricity on and putting food on the table. I will not pretend to know the solution to their hardships.

What I do know is there are people who are considered poor in my community who are seriously way happier than me. And I know I have had bosses who made thrice as I did who were far more miserable than me.

And that tells me that despite our different stations in life, energy is energy. And it's always best to let it flow freely.

So I repeat... never ever be frugal with money.

When it knocks on your door, say, "Hey, nice to see you!" When it leaves your house, say, "See you again soon!" And when it finally seems to be making itself at home, do not lock it in the basement. Cook dinner with it. Invite your friends over. Watch a movie. Do karaoke. Look money in the eyes and say, "I'm glad you've decided to stay."

[alexanderwales]

I finished rewatching Death Note. I always forget how short anime is, with episodes that aren't much more than 20 minutes when you skip the intro/outro.

I hadn't remembered how much of a sniveling wreck LIght was at the end of the show. There's something about the ending that makes it feel like it was written and directed by a different person, not that Light wasn't always a little weird and pathetic, and not that the show didn't consistently go out of its way to let us know what a piece of shit he was (particularly his absolute lack of loyalty or empathy to anyone, even aside from the megalomania). But he takes the loss like a loser, snot dripping from his nose, voice cracking, begging, and it's so pathetic that I almost felt a little sorry for him.

I've always found the Death Note to be a very interesting prompt, one of those hooks that's so good I'd want to watch it even if it was bad. But in writing something like Death Note, the author has to make decisions about what to show and what not to show, and also make decisions about how they're going to portray the public at large.

There are two big things that stand out for me.

One is that we never get someone arguing against Kira. We get people who are actively trying to hunt him down, but they're mostly not stopping to say "this is why what he's doing is wrong" except a few lines about how he has a childish sense of justice, which is never expounded upon. Kira, on the other hand, we hear a lot from, not just the megalomaniac stuff, but the notion that criminals must be punished, that this is what people desire in their hearts. I get the strong sense that L does not actually care and just views this as an interesting puzzle for him to solve, but for everyone else it's largely left as an exercise to the viewer, and even then, there are moments when some of our task force members come dangerously close to endorsement.

To the extent the show has an answer, it's that (to quote Kanye West) no one man should have all that power, or that Kira has crossed a lot of lines, but no one argues in favor of rehabilitation or clemency or just fundamental humanity. Kira seems to largely be killing prisoners, who have already been sentenced, and are wards of the state, and he says "this is what people want deep down, they will give you the politically correct answer but they actually want the criminal class to be obliterate", which ... there's no character who actually voices any opposition to through the whole series. And I find that weird, because yes, the show has its own answers in terms of how it plays out, but in a show filled with people possessed of immense conviction, most of the people in opposition to Kira are just intellectuals who don't actually give a shit about the ideological question.

(The one big moment when it comes to a head, IMO, is when Soichiro Yagami refuses to write Mello's name entirely because of his principled objection to killing someone. I thought this was great, and I wish the show had more of it.)

The other big thing is that we don't really get a viewpoint of the criminals, with a few exceptions. One is the is Yotsuba group, who are killing people with the Death Note, and the second is the (somehow still functional) mafia that Mello hangs out with. There's also one other scene somewhere after L's death where we see a criminal begging with the police not to have his name written down, and that's about it.

The naive view here is that the show really does believe in Criminals as being a part The Other, a different sort of human being who walk among us. The criminal class are described as rotten and evil, they're shown as grotesque and with exaggerated features or bestial characteristics, and they're generally leering and impulsive. There is no consideration of their humanity.

There's a more nuanced take here, which is that we have a criminal as one of our main cast, Light Yagami, along with everyone else who takes on the Kira mantle. So what is the show saying about criminality through how it portrays them? And here ... I don't know. I kind of don't think that it views them as criminals in the same way? When we look at the ways that Light kills, I genuinely do think that the show thinks that this is different from the way that a capital-C Criminals kill. It's reactionary rather than criminal in and of itself, a response to the injustices of the world rather than being in the same class as those injustices. Light is narratively exempted, and Misa is to. Which isn't to say that I think the show thinks highly of Light, it clearly doesn't, especially in its ending, but I almost think that in the end it Others him too (and also has Teru Mikami drawn in particularly 'evil' style, like a creepy deviant gremlin).

So I enjoyed the rewatch, but there are things that sit a little oddly with me as far as the central themes go. There's probably some discourse I should read that's come out since I first watched it in ... 2010 or whenever, but I think I'll give that a skip.

[darylscigarettesmoke]

Daryl is weak.

Okay, bold headline. I’m a journalist I know how clickbait works. Jokes aside, hear me out.

A lot of fans say that Daryl acts totally out of character in the second season of his spin-off. Getting close to a woman that quickly. Kissing her. Not thinking about going home anymore or not fighting tooth and nail to get there anymore.

And while I very much agree and the Daryl from the Spin-Off doesn’t feel like the Daryl from the flagship show anymore, there’s a pattern I’ve noticed throughout the series.

The word Daryl gets described the most is probably “loyal”. But what if he’s not that “loyal” man, everyone makes him out to be?

Daryl’s not good alone. He needs people. He latches on to them. First it was Merle, his bad influence of a brother. Then it was Rick and the group. He needs a role model. Someone to follow.

what happens though if you take away his role model, is always the same thing. He falls into despair, latches onto someone else and forgets where he came from.

Remember the arc after the prison fell? He was stuck with Beth, thought the group is dead. But instead of making use of his tracking abilities, determination, pure willpower to prove himself wrong and see that most folks are still alive or just whatever to find out if the other’s are really dead, he succumbs to pessimism and suggests to Beth to just stay at the funeral home, doing nothing but playing house. He would’ve stayed there for much longer if Beth hadn’t gone kidnapped. Once Beth was gone, he stucked to the Claimers until Rick came along again…

Same thing with Leah. He believed his leader (Rick) to be dead, his guilt made him shy away from his family, he lived in the woods until Leah came along. It took him longer than with Beth to finally give in and decide to stay with Leah, but still - he isolated himself from the thoughts of his family and stayed with a woman - and yet again, he would have stayed there, away from his family, if Leah hadn’t left herself. He didn’t have a clue about what’s happening in Alexandria, with the Whisperers, with Rick’s kids and probably didn’t wanna know either.

Rinse and repeat we got Isabelle. In this case, it’s even worse because Daryl’s stuck in another country. But again he’s far away from his family, again there is a woman, again he’s latching onto her and yet again he is forgetting about his people back home to the point where he’s almost not considering to go back anymore at all.

Daryl always needs a circumstance, a death, a kidnapping, or a person (Carol?) to pull him back to reality and to remind him who he is and what he might’ve left behind.

It’s also highly ironic to me that the Villain of the season, that cult leader, describes what’s going on with Daryl in Episode 2x03 perfectly:

“Must be hard living without a semblance of faith. No organizing principle, nothing to cling to [….] a man alone it’s a sad state.”

Daryl always believes he is alone, that his group has given up on him. His low self-esteem and the thing’s he had to endure prevent him from seeing how loved he is. But he’s never been truly alone, after he found Rick’s group.

Having to fend for himself as a kid has left his mark on him, so he’s clinging onto people, desperate of not wanting to be alone.

Now that doesn’t go without saying that I don’t believe Daryl didn’t find something in France. He found what he wishes for - a family of his own and to not be the “lonely man” anymore. But it’s time to come back from Neverland, to achieve that dream.

With all of these things considered I start to believe the Daryl we all know and love is still there - he just needs to be reminded that he is loved, cared for and so, so missed.

Edit: Some more notes. That is just a poor explanation/interpretation of bad writing in the Spin-Off. When Daryl said he wasn’t sure of what he was looking for when he left the Commonwealth, that made it clear as day the writers absolutely intend to retcon this beloved character and all of his core characteristics to pretend Daryl’s this blank page, a character without history. But this doesn’t work and I hope they’ll notice it soon enough.

[therealvinelle]

Would Carlisle/Alphard work? (Platonic or romantic)

... curse tumblr for I had drafted my reply to you. ALAS.

No.

Carlisle is not for Alphard

Alphard is an extremely cynical person who admires Tom Riddle for his strength and infallibility. Tom is the most extraordinary person in the room at any given time, and always true to himself. As far as Alphard is concerned Tom is a demigod among men, the sort of natural force who doesn't live by the same rules the rest of us do and wanting him to change is the last thing on Alphard's mind.

Would he admit this to Tom's face, never, Tom has enough of an ego. Alphard will call him a lunatic and ridiculous, and mean every syllable. Did he fall in love with a violent lunatic with impure blood who was beating up not just Alphard, but his closest relatives and all his friends in school, also yes.

It's the whole package of Tom that makes him appeal to Alphard, from the physical beauty to the uncompromising personality, to the way he can't ever be fully predicted, and the tragically romantic backstory. Being in love with him is just a point of fact for Alphard at this point.

Even becoming Lord Voldemort is something Tom never claims is anything but what it is, and while Alphard is horrified and heartbroken Tom remains the person he always was. Readers of The Man Who Would Be King will remember Alphard lasted one week before being married to Tom again.

Carlisle, by contrast, while unbelievably beautiful and just as extraordinary, is a man who has made self-delusion a cornerstone of his life. He loves his family and wants them to care about human life as much as he does, so he'll give them little nudges like going to their victims' funerals or have family votes where thankfully the majority voted against killing an innocent girl, and not think about what it says about Edward that he killed people for pleasure for four years because- well, he came back.

And he walks around talking about how great, how humane, how wonderful his family and their way of life is. While living among humans, thereby risking the deaths of innocents for no reason other than "it's our lifestyle!" (and the even worse, underlying reason of "if they don't live with humans they might forget humans aren't food...")

Loss of control isn't even a hypothetical, this happens to the Cullens semi-frequently.

Alphard would think he's a fool and a killer by proxy, and despise and pity him. To him, Carlisle is easily worse than Voldemort.

Alphard is not for Carlisle

The trouble with Alphard is that he is what Caius would be if Caius was worse. He's mean, he's judgmental, and he's cynical, all qualities Caius shares only Alphard is somehow worse. He's just so mean.

More troubling yet, he is very principled and harsh on himself but lives cease to matter to him where his loved ones are concerned. Had Aro said "Here is my Horcrux, it's a fifteen-year-old Aro who must be fed a soul to gain a body" Carlisle would have pressured him to either repair his soul, and left when Aro didn't do so. Alphard, by contrast, "Ope, guess we're finding him a soul then."

Alphard is a very ruthless person, he may be principled but should his line of reasoning lead him to murder being the solution to a problem a loved one is having then murder it is.

Alphard also reacts to Tom becoming Voldemort much the same way he would infidelity, as it's not really the suffering Tom inflicted that bothers him but the betrayal of his own character as Alphard knew it (and he'd have had a much harder time getting past actual infidelity. That would have been a crisis). His faith is restored because he sees enough of the goodness he fell in love with. His niece Bellatrix is much the same, of sure she's done bad things, Alphard is intellectually aware of this fact. It's getting hard to deny that she probably has tortured and killed people, and delights in it. Well, have you considered the fact that she's precious and perfect?

Andromeda's marriage to Ted is on par with Tom and Bellatrix's life choices in that Alphard's not thrilled with it, but he can look past it because he loves her that much.

To Carlisle this man is genuinely insane and terrifying. Carlisle can move past his friends killing to live because it's what they've always known and he sees the good in them in spite of that. Alphard would frighten him, there is plenty good in him but Carlisle would correctly put together that the man is one line of reasoning away from killing anybody at all.

Carlisle stays as far out of his way as he can, and warns others to keep their distance from this one.

Can these two even be in a room together?

I think if they meet in the library and only talk about books, they'll have a grand time. Just don't let them talk about anything personal, at all.

[i-gwarth]

Did anyone notice that, in the exchange between Viktor and Reveck/Singed, it was Reveck who had the factually correct description of evolution? A permanent force of nature, adaptation fueled by violence and death.

Did you notice how Viktor was *wrong* in his description of evolution? How he said it has a destination, to supplant nature? Did you notice he is not describing Evolution, but Progress? Did you notice that he is talking like Jayce? And that the only thing that stopped him from following Reveck and giving him Vander was his own personal decency, his moral compass. Because in principle he agreed with what Reveck was selling, a rejection of nature, of death and of suffering?

Viktor exists in tension with himself. He is committed to progress, to helping people, but in the right way. Without leaving others behind, without collateral victims and force.

The same tension is reflected at the heart of Arcane, in the duality of order vs chaos. Neat and orderly, straight lines deco Piltover vs chaotic, chthonic, curvilinear nouveau Zaun. The cold control of Hextech vs the uncontrolled fury of Shimmer.

The thesis of Arcane is the (rather simple, basic) idea that one side of human nature cannot exist without the other, and attempts to escape this duality are tragically doomed to failure. There will be a Zaun to every Piltover. A victim left behind by every leap of progress. And if we forget this, the world will waste no time to reminding us. Tension against duality is always resolved, reinforcing duality.

Viktor fell into this trap. Confusing the two, trying to separate the duality. In his final moments he realized that his attempt to escape it was always going to fail. This slots neatly into his LoL-self's agenda of mechanizing humanity: if humanity's nature is inescapably bound to chaos, the solution is to leave humanity behind. Escaping the tension. Smashing the coin.

I almost hope they don't go that route. I hope he is dead, a tragic figure who attempted a gentle uplift of the poor and destitute but failed to account for the human factors leading to them. He doesn't need to become a fanatical robot man on a crusade against flesh.

But more importantly we do not need a stereotypical Bad Guy embodying axiomatically evil conformity and forcefulness. We don't need a simplistic, childish narrative about overcoming a demon. It is good that the show so far has stained every villain with empathy, every monster with love. It is good that each character embodies the inescapable duality, so that we can never have absolute good without absolute evil.

Arcane should not aim to provide villains or solutions. It is at its best when painting a beautiful picture of our malformed humanity. Anything more would lessen the impact. We need the coin landing on its side.

[pit-and-the-pen]

ACOTAR Zodiac Signs

I’m just doing Sun (because this would turn into a full dissertation if I did rising and moon but I might do them in the future This is obviously just my opinion and for funsies. Please be nice if you disagree. Also, the book I use is called “The Complete Guide to Astrology.” It’s on kindle unlimited if you want to look into it! (there’s also 13 characters I’m doing here so some will be repeats)

Also, thank to @milswrites and @prythianpages for suggesting for me to write this all out <3 I'm happy to be your go-to for astrology.

Azriel: Scorpio. ““It is often said that a Scorpio man can be obsessive, possessive and vindictive, but the truth is he can also be loyal, supportive, compassionate and incredible in bed. This man has to deal with unusual emotional depth, leading to his extreme sensitivity and his need to close his heart in order not to get hurt. The only reason he becomes vindictive is in his deeply emotional nature and his incapability to forgive the depth of his injuries.” (this is the only one that didn’t come from the book and I can’t find the website I pulled it from) This one seems pretty self-explanatory but Azriel holds his emotions close to his chest for sure. I’m not convinced he doesn’t feel deeply and just has closed himself off to letting others feel his emotions. 

Cassian: Taurus. Embodies an animal like wisdom in that they have finely honed senses and are sensual, practical, and loyal. Inwardly, they are deeply grounded, patient and steady, but this can also lead to the tendency to be stubborn or bullheaded and overly materialistic in the pursuit of security. Others can see taurus as stable and lacking pretense.”  Despite everyone thinking he’s a bit dull, Cassian is a rock to all of those around him. He might not be the smartest in a scholarly way but out of the IC I think he has the most emotional intelligence despite not being able to read the room all the time. But he’s definitely stubborn.

Elain: Virgo. Analyze is the primary word for virgo. Virgo energy embodies the principle of service, as they love to feel useful in the world. Virgos are attentive to detail and very analytical. Their inner world is often self-critical and they are worriers. They tend to servitude rather than service and forget to take care of themselves in the process. Others see virgos as ethical and organized, though it’s a bit of a myth to say that all virgos are naturally tidy. This is, in part, because their perfectionist tendencies can lead to analysis paralysis. I think this really describes pre-fae Elain. She might have not been the best at protecting Feyre but she was really the only one that saw what everything was doing to her. She also loves gardening which feeds into the nurturing part of virgos. Idk she just gives me virgo energy.

Eris: Okay, bare with me on this one. Pisces. Their primary word is believe. They are seen as highly sensitive, creative and mystical beings. Pisces often struggle with boundaries and extreme empaths, which can cause them to fall into the role of victim or martyr. LIke the symbol of fish swimming in two directions, it’s the lesson of pisces to live in the realms of the manifest and mystical. If they can become comfortable with being agents of change they will avoid the escapist and addictive tendencies they may turn to on occasion. Like I said, bare with me. We never truly get to see Eris for who he is. We only get to see the mask that he puts on while Beron is alive. But even then, he’s willing to risk his life to help out the night court. He became their inside man and we get to see little bits of his personality. I think Eris is rules far more by his moon than his sun but I also think that who he presents as is mainly because of the abuse he’s suffered from Beron. 

Emerie: Libra. Balance is the primary word for libras, because they try to find the middle ground and harmonious balance in all that they do. Libra is the diplomat and mediator of the zodiac. Because of that, they can come across as indecisive, vacillating and even passive-aggressive at times. Generally, Libra comes across as fair, peace-loving and creative. Inwardly, they are focused on others and relationships (not always romantic) Emerie was the first person to see Nesta for who she is. And she is fiercely loyal to those she picks to be apart of her life. But she does seem to be in the middle of what little spats there are in her group, but as the most sensical one if that makes sense? We don’t get a lot of Emerie in the book (a crime if you ask me) but I think this is the closest to her character.

Feyre: Sagittarius. (actually confirmed by the book). Wander and wonder are the primary words for Sagittarius because they like to wander-physically and mentally- and they often live in a state of wonder at the world. Sagittarius is the seeker of truth and freedom and loves exploration of all kinds. They are seens as naive, inspirational and eternal optimists. Spiritually oriented and visionary, they have the ability to see the big picture of life. If Sagittarius embraces life as a quest for experience and truth their tendies towards naivete can become higher wisdom. I don’t fulllllyyy agree with all of this, but since her birthday is on the winter solstice she would be a Sagittarius and I can see it in bits and pieces. She’s always been very creative and literally see’s the bigger picture in life in the way can see the art she wants to create. But she’s also very self-sacrificing which I think adds to seeing the bigger picture. She’s able to look past her own wants and desires and do what she needs to do for the sake of everyone else.  

Gwen: Taurus, (see Cassian)

Helion: Leo. Leos are born to lead, and that is their primary word. Whether king, queen or leader in their own home, leos are born to shine and charm. They crave attention and tend to be melodramatic and superior when in shadow. Otherwise, Leos are dynamic, self-confident and playful. At their best, they are magnetic and affectionate and light up the lives of those around them because they carry the sun’s radiance within (I swear, hand on the bible, that’s what my book actually says and I didn’t read the whole thing before I made my choice on this.) This is an other self-explanatory one but even without all the sun references. Helion is kind and charming, but also a great leader. 

Lucien: Cancer. Feel is the primary word for cancers, they are all emotion and intuition. Cancer is the nurturer of the zodiac and are very traditional and family oriented. Inwardly, the sign is extremely sensitive and can tend toward being insecure and giving too much to the point of ignoring their own needs. Others see them as responsive and loving but they can also be moody. Lucien feels a lot of stuff. He’s written off as being snarky but I think it’s because he can see through peoples bullshit because of how much he truly  feels. He was there for Feyre. And regardless of what you ship, he was the only one to think of giving Elain something to cover herself with. 

Mor: Gemini. Gemini is the thinker and symbolizes the mind, voice and communication. Their inner life is curious, observant, often scattered and may be highly strung. Geminis are seen as socially verbally expressive but can sometimes manipulative and duplicitous. All I can say for this is SJM ruined what she had going for Mor and focused too much of the manipulative side of her. Mor had so much potential but this is still her sign. 

Nesta: Aquarius. Aquarians are the individuals of the Zodiac and their primary word is “know”. Aquarians are socially conscious and are dedicated to causes and reform, but they can also be emotionally distant and even anarchistic at times. Because they often feel alienated from those around them, they are sometimes tempted to betray their convictions to fit in, but their path is to embody their personal truth no matter what. Nesta is at her very core, loyal. She cares deeply for the people she’s let into her life, regardless of how much she will fight them as they try to get close to her. But she stands by her morals for sure. She is also willing to do what she needs to do when she thinks it’s right. I think that arrogant, cruel facade is the very conviction she was forced into. She was raised as nothing more than a way for her family to marry up and she took it in stride, despite how much it obviously affected her.

Rhysand: Leo. (See Helion)

Tamlin: Capricorn. The primary word for Capricorn is achieve. Capricorns are focused on climbing the ladder of achievement but may have a tendency to do so based on the expectations of the outer world rather than based on a foundation of self-trust, which is where the tail of the fish comes in. Capricorn is seen as responsible and determined but also, at times, controlling and fearful. Inwardly, although Capricorn is hardworking and law-abiding, there is often an underlying fear of never being enough. Their commitment and leadership qualities are their strengths. Tamlin is actually a good leader, he just lets himself be ruled by the fear he has of things happening to the people he loves.

[asimpforthe80s]

Rough night?

I'm high and horny. Pegging. Rough sex. Overflowing his ass with cum. F!reader. Multiple orgasms.

Bodyguard!Ghost x reader

Your bodyguard Simon Riley was your eighth one because the previous ones were dismissed by your father for their inappropriate behavior towards you. Simon, a military man was assigned to protect you for the next few months.He was a man of principles and never exhibited any inappropriate interest in you, which you appreciated. However, there was something about him that intrigued you and drew you in. Was it his voice? His gaze? Or perhaps what lay beneath his mask? You weren't sure, but you found yourself trying to provoke him,but to no success.

Unbeknownst to yoy he was already infatuated with yoy. He was captivated by your scent, your movements, the way your little fingers wrap around the fruit, which he would later be jealous of, the way you stretched to reach items on high shelves, which he would secretly watch and admire, and even the way you drank water, hoping it was his cum instead of that boring water. He fantasized about it being him you were consuming, but he maintained his composed and stoic demeanor, showing no signs of his interest in you. So, when he cornered you against the refrigerator, his hands on either side of your head, you were shocked, not expecting him to do this at all. He was panting, and his expression was wild as he looked you up and down.

"Why on earth are you dressed like that, princess?" He growled as he leaned in closer. You were only wearing your school uniform skirt and a bra, intending to grab a snack before showering after school. You hadn't anticipated this reaction as you were too tired from uni but you certainly didn't object. He was finally showing a reaction, even though this was not one of your antics and just some pure coincidence, and you saw it as a positive sign. But before you could respond, he stepped back, took a deep breath, and turned away from you.

"Actually, forget it. Go back to your room... And lock the doors," he said. You did as he said, getting back in your room to take a shower, but you didn't lock the door. As soon as you left, Ghost let out a sigh of frustration, cursing under his breath. He knew he shouldn't have reacted that way, especially not to someone he was supposed to protect. It wasn't right, and he knew it. But seeing you like that had stirred something within him, something he thought he'd buried long ago.

He paced the kitchen his gloved hands clenching into fists at his sides. He needed to get a grip, needed to remember why he was here. To protect yoy, not to lust after you. But it was hard when every instinct screamed at him to claim you, to mark you as his own.

Finally, he stopped pacing and turned back to face the fridge where he'd cornered you earlier. "Stupid..." he muttered to himself, running a hand through his dark hair.

----

Seeing you emerge from the bathroom, your skin glistening with water droplets, was more than Ghost could handle. The sight of your bare body sent a surge of desire coursing through him, making his heart pound in his chest and his breath hitch in his throat.

For a moment he stood frozen, unable to move or speak. Then without thinking he reached out his hand closing around your wrist in a vice-like grip. He pulled yuo toward him, not caring that you were still wet from the shower or that your body was warm and soft against his

His mouth came crashing down onto yours, his tongue pushing past your lips to explore the warmth within. His other arm snaked around your waist pulling yoy even closer until there was no space between you.You gasp in surprise as his lips crash into yours kissing you passionately as your arms go around his neck. You feel his hand trailing down your back, stopping at your ass and squeezing it roughly.

Ghost groaned into the kiss, his hand tightening its grip on your ass cheek. His other hand moved up to cup yoyr breast, thumb rubbing over your nipple. He broke the kiss momentarily to murmur against your lips "You're so fucking beautiful, princess."

Without waiting for a response, he dipped his head to capture one of yoor nipples in his mouth, sucking hard as his hand squeezed your other breast. His free hand slid down between your legs finding your pussy wet and ready for him."Fuck, Ghost.." you moaned. He was the first of eight bodyguards you enjoyed being sexual with. "Princess" Ghost murmured against your skin before moving lower his tongue darting out to taste you. He licked along your slit, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal before pushing his tongue inside you.

His fingers found their way back to your breasts, kneading them gently as he continued to eat you out. One hand slipped down to rub circles on your clit while the other traveled further south, tracing the shape of your ass before giving it a firm squeeze.Yoy moaned loudly as he kept pleasuring you, hoping to God that your parents wouldn't come home yet. Ghost continued to pleasure you relentlessly, his tongue delving deeper into your tight cunt while his fingers worked your sensitive clit. He could feel your walls clenching around his tongue signaling that you were getting close.

Pulling away reluctantly, he stood up and began to undress, his movements jerky with need. Once he was naked, he grabbed you by the hips, positioning you so that you werepressed against his waist. His cock rubbed against your wet folds, teasing both of you with its proximity.

"Ride me, princess," he growled in your ear before capturing your lips in another passionate kiss. You nodded and pushed him down on your bed, straddling his waist. Ghost watched as you straddled him, his eyes darkening with desire. He ran his hands up your thighs, then back down again, before spreading your folds with his thumbs. His cock twitched at the sight of your wetness coating his fingers.

"God, you're so fucking hot," he murmured before guiding himself to your entrance. He thrust up into you, filling you completely with one swift motion.8Your eyes rolled back as your sweet cunt was filled by his length. Saying he was big was an understatement. Ghost groaned at the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He began to thrust up into you, setting a punishing pace that had you bouncing on his lap.

"Fuck, princess...you feel too good," he managed to gasp out between thrusts. His hips bucked upward, driving his cock deep inside you. Your tits bounced wildly as you rode him, moaning loudly as you felt yourself getting close to climaxing.Ghost could feel your inner walls clenching around his cock, signaling that you were close to orgasm. He quickened his thrusts driven by a primal urge to make you cum on his dick.

"Come for me, princess...I wanna feel you squeeze my cock," he growled, his hands gripping your hips tighter.Your eyes closed as you felt yourself nearing climax. You leaned forward and kissed him deeply, moaning into his mouth. A few seconds later, you climaxed screaming out in ecstasy as you felt your juices coat his cock.

Ghost grunted in satisfaction as he felt your juices coat his cock, signaling that you'd reached your climax. He quickened his thrusts even more, driven by a primal urge to find his own release.

"Fuck...I'm gonna cum, princess..." he warned breathlessly before burying himself deep inside you one last time. He came hard, filling you with his seed as he rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through his body."Fuck, Simon~" you groaned against his lips, feeling his warm seed filing you up. At that moment you didn't care if you had taken your birth control that day or not. Ghost's breathing was ragged as he slowly came down from his orgasmic high, his heart pounding in his chest. He pulled you down for another deep kiss tasting the sweetness of your lips after the intensity of sex.

"Mmm...that was amazing, princess" he murmured against your lips before rolling you onto your side and pulling you close to his body. His arm draped over your waist possessively as he nuzzled the back of your neck. You laid against his body as your mind went into subspace, exhausted as his cum seeped out of your pussy. Ghost lay there quietly, his arm still draped possessively around your waist. His heart was finally beginning to slow down, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight of your flushed face.

"That was...intense" he finally murmured, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. He brushed a stray lock of hair off your forehead before planting a soft kiss on your temple.

"You okay, princess?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.You nodded weakly your head resting softly against his warm chest. Ghost gave a low chuckle at your weak nod, his hand gently stroking your hair. He could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest, a soothing sound that helped to calm his own racing thoughts.

"I'm glad," he murmured, kissing the top of your head. "You took my cock like a pro...fuck, you're so sexy."

His hand drifted lower, tracing circles on your bare skin until they found their way back to your pussy. He let out a soft groan at the memory of being buried deep inside you, his fingers gently massaging your clit.

"Princess...we should do this more often," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.You nodded. "Mhmm.."Ghost chuckled softly at your noncommittal response, his fingers continuing their teasing dance on your sensitive clit. He could feel the warmth radiating off your body, a stark contrast to the cool air surrounding them.

"Is that a yes, princess?" he teased, nibbling on your earlobe playfully. "Because I wouldn't mind doing this every night."You laughed softly as he nibbled on your earlobe, enjoying the sensation of his fingers on your sensitive clit. "Maybe we can try something new next time."Ghost raised a brow at your words, his fingers pausing in their ministrations. "Oh? And what might that be, princess?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he was intrigued nonetheless. Ghost had never been one to shy away from trying new things in bed - especially if it meant pleasing the woman he was with.

"And don't think you're getting off that easy," he added with a smirk giving her ass a playful smack. "We're not done here yet."You smiled slyly as he smacked your ass enjoying the slight sting. "Well, I've always wanted to try pegging."Ghost blinked, clearly taken aback by your words. Pegging was definitely not something he had expected to hear. But then again, he supposed that was part of the fun of experimenting in bed - surprising each other.

"Uh...you want to do what now?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous at the thought of having you on top of him, but the idea was also undeniably exciting.

"But I thought you liked it when I fucked you from behind," he added, his brows furrowing in thought.You giggled softly at his reaction, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the lips. "I do, but I want to see how it feels to be on top.. and maybe see you submissive?" Ghost's eyes widened slightly at your words, his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of you on top of him, taking control...it sent a thrill through him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Submissive?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now why would you want to see me like that, princess?"

Despite his surprise, Ghost couldn't deny that the idea was appealing. He'd always been the one in charge, the one calling the shots. But the thought of letting someone else take control...well it was certainly something he'd never considered before.

"But only if you promise to be gentle," he added with a smirk giving your ass a playful squeeze.You winked at him giving his hand a small squeeze. "Of course I will be. Besides I think it'll be hot."Ghost couldn't argue with that. The thought of you dominating him, taking him in ways he'd never imagined...it made his cock twitch beneath him.

"Alright," he finally agreed, reluctantly letting go of you. "But remember, princess, you asked for this."

He carefully rolled onto his back, spreading his legs invitingly for you. "Do whatever you want, just don't break anything."You chuckled. "Ass up face down." You instructed. Ghost complied without hesitation, lifting himself up on his elbows so that his ass was high in the air and his face pressed into the pillow. His heart raced as he waited for you to approach him, anticipation and excitement coursing through his veins.

"Are you sure about this, princess?" he asked, his voice slightly strained. "There's no going back once we do this."You grinned. "I'm sure.." you said, walking over to a closet. He couldn't see what you were getting, but he knew it was a strap and a dildo. What size, he could only figure out once it's in him. "You ready f'me?" You whispered seductivley. Ghost shivered at your words, his body tensing up slightly. He was ready, he realized. Ready to let you take control, ready to let you show him a side of pleasure he'd never known.

"Yes, princess," he replied, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "I'm ready."

He closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of your movements as you prepared yourself. His breath hitched in his throat as he anticipated the feeling of you inside him, the sensation of being dominated by you...

"Come on, princess," he urged, his voice laced with anticipation. "Don't keep me waiting any longer."You chuckled, giving his ass a soft squeeze. "Needy, are we?" You said, lubing up your 'cock'. "This might be a little cold.." you warned before pressing a cold, lubed finger into his tight hole. Ghost gasped sharply as your finger pushed into him, his body instinctively trying to close around it. It was cold, much colder than he'd expected, and he could feel the lube coating his insides.

"Fuck..." he groaned, his fingers digging into the sheets beneath him. "That's fucking cold..."

But despite the initial shock, he found himself pushing back against your finger, wanting more, needing more. He wanted you, needed you, and he wouldn't settle for anything less."Calm down, love.." you whispered, pulling your finger out of him and pressing your tip to his entrance, wanting to see if he'll let you bury yourself into him or if he'll try taking you on his own.

Ghost held his breath as he felt the tip of your cock press against his entrance. He wanted to push back, to force you inside him, but he resisted the urge. He wanted to see how far you'd go, how deep you'd push.

So instead of forcing you inside, he did nothing. He simply lay there, his body trembling with anticipation, his ass raised high in the air.As he did nothing, you chuckled, slowly pushing the tip in. Then you halted for about 10 seconds before forcing the whole thing inside him. 8.7 inches. Ghost cried out as you thrust your cock inside him, his body convulsing as he adjusted to the sudden intrusion. It was painful, yes, but it was also exhilarating, like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

His muscles clenched tightly around your cock, trying to accommodate your size. But despite the discomfort, he didn't ask you to stop. No, he wanted more, needed more.

"F-fuck..." he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper. "That's...that's so big..." You chuckled. "Yeah? Wanna wait a little?" You asked, wanting him to be comfortable. "No," Ghost answered immediately, his voice firm. "No waiting. Just...keep going."

He was still adjusting to the feeling of your cock inside him, but already he could feel the pleasure building, the pain slowly turning into something else entirely.

"Just...move," he urged, his body squirming beneath you. "Please, princess...don't leave me like this."You smirked, loving the sound of his begging. You did as he said but your pace was merciless. Fast and hard aiming for his prostate with each thrust.

Ghost screamed as you started moving, his body shaking from the sheer intensity of it all. Your cock slammed into him again and again, each thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout his body.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he cried out, his voice echoing throughout the room. "Princess! Oh god, princess!"

He clung onto the sheets beneath him, his nails digging into the fabric as he tried to ground himself amidst the onslaught of sensations.As you kept thrusting, you leaned forward, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him close. The other hand gripped his hip tightly. You wanted to make him yours.

Your lips pressed against his neck, sucking gently on the skin there. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear while your hips kept their merciless pace.Ghost moaned loudly as you wrapped your arms around him, your grip on his hip making him feel small and insignificant compared to your strength. He loved it, loved the feeling of being overpowered, of being taken control of.

The sensation of your lips on his neck sent shivers running down his spine, and the sweet nothings you whispered in his ear only served to heighten his arousal.

"Oh fuck, princess," he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm...I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna...I'm gonna-"You increased your pace, wanting to hear him lose it. "Cum for me, love. Cum all over my cock." You growled into his ear, reaching under him to stroke his cock. Ghost's entire body tensed up as you increased your pace, his climax building rapidly. Your words were like gasoline poured onto the fire of his desire, and your stroking hand only served to send him spiraling towards the edge.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I'm...I'm cumming!" he cried out, his voice filled with ecstasy. His cock twitched in your hand as hot jets of cum shot out of it, painting your hand white

You smirked, leaning back slightly to watch your seed coat his hand. "Look at that. So much cum, love." You teased, giving your hips another few ruthless thrusts before slowing down. You pulled out, letting your dick slip from his ass. "Such a good boy.." you whispered. .Ghost panted heavily, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He felt empty without your cock inside him, but he didn't protest when you pulled out. He knew you'd eventually return, and he was right.

"You're...you're not done yet, are you?" he asked, his voice shaky. He rolled over onto his back, exposing his used and abused hole to you. "Come on, princess...don't leave me hanging."You chuckled. "You want the same size or do you want something bigger? I've got dicks that vibrates, has a knot, one of them can cum, one of them is an ovipositor, I've got a lot of options, love.." you said.

Ghost's breath hitched in his throat as you listed off all the different types of dicks you had available. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more exciting than the last.

"Bigger," he finally managed to say after a moment of silence. "Something...something really big. And...and vibrating would be nice too."

His body was still sensitive from your previous activities, but the thought of taking such a large cock made him excited nonetheless.You nodded and went back to your drawer. "You want girthy kind of big or do you want longer kind of big?" You asked. Ghost took a deep breath, considering your question carefully. He wanted something that would stretch him open wide, that would fill him up completely. But he also wanted something that would hit all the right spots, that would make him scream in pleasure.

"Girthy," he finally answered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want something...something really thick."You nodded and took out something you think he'd like. "Close your eyes, I want you to feel the weight and vibrations in your hands before I let you take it.." you murmured. Ghost did as you instructed, closing his eyes tightly. He felt a sense of anticipation building within him, wondering what it would be like to take such a large cock.

A moment later, you placed whatever it was in his hands. It was heavy, and it vibrated slightly. Ghost couldn't help but smile, already imagining what it would feel like inside him."There are 13 vibration settings.. this is the first setting." You explained. Ghost nodded, his fingers tracing over the contours of the object in his hands. It was large, far larger than anything he'd ever taken before. And the vibrations...they were intense, sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice shaking. "It's...it's so big."You smiled. "It's going to feel amazing once it's in your ass." You said, pushing Ghost gently to lay on his stomach.Ghost nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hardly believe how big it was, but he trusted you to handle it. You'd never steered him wrong before.

He laid on his stomach as instructed, his ass raised high in the air. He was ready for you now, ready to feel every inch of that massive cock inside him.You lined yourself up and slowly pushed forward, stretching him open. The vibrations sent waves of pleasure through his body, making him gasp and moan. Slowly, you kept pushing until the entire length was inside him. "How does it feel?" You asked, placing a hand on his lower back.Ghost groaned, his body trembling under the intense sensation of being filled so completely. Every inch of that massive cock stretched him open, filling him up in ways he'd never imagined possible.

"It...it feels incredible," he managed to say between gasps of pleasure. "So fucking big...so fucking thick."You aimed for his prostate and placed the tip to press on it, then you turned up the vibrations to 5. Ghost cried out, his body convulsing as the vibrations increased and the tip of your cock pressed against his prostate. The pleasure was almost unbearable, but he welcomed it, relishing in the way it made his body tremble and shiver.

"Oh fuck...fuck yes!" he moaned, his hands gripping tightly onto the sheets beneath him.8

You began thrusting slowly, picking up speed as you felt him adjust. "Tell me how it feels, love." You growled into his ear, turning the vibrations to 9. Ghost screamed, his body wracked with pleasure as you increased the vibrations and started to thrust. Each movement sent waves of ecstasy coursing through him, making his cock twitch and leak precum onto the bedsheet.

"It...it feels amazing," he gasped between moans. "So fucking good...so fucking huge! Oh god, please don't stop..."You continued thrusting faster, hitting his prostate hard. "That's it baby tell me how much you love my dick." You growled increasing the vibrations to max.Ghost howled, his body shaking violently as you pounded into him harder and faster. The vibrations reached a new level of intensity, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in his body.

"I...I love it!" he cried out. "Your dick is so fucking amazing! Feels like I'm being split open by a fucking monster! Oh god, keep going...don't stop!"You picked up speed, slamming into him over and over again. Your balls slapped against his ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. "That's it baby, let it out." You growled, grabbing his hips tight.Ghost arched his back, crying out in ecstasy as he came apart beneath you. His orgasm was intense, powerful, and seemed to go on forever. His body shook and quaked as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him, leaving him spent and satiated.

"Fuck...fuck...fuck," he moaned, barely able to form coherent words. "That was...that was...oh god..."6You slowly pulled out of him. "Baby? Do you want to know how it feels to be overflowing with cum?" Ghost panted heavily, trying to catch his breath as you pulled out of him. His body was still trembling from the intense orgasm, and he could feel a warm stickiness spreading across his ass and thighs.

"Yeah," he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse and raspy. "Yeah, I want to know how it feels..."You nodded. "Ass up, I'll show you.."

.Ghost did as he was told, lifting his ass off the bed and presenting himself to you.

"Yes...show me..." he murmured, his body still sensitive from the intense fucking.You walked over to your drawer again, pulling out three bottles of fake cum and an anal stretching ring. Ghost watched curiously as you retrieved the items from your drawer. His curiosity was piqued, wondering what exactly you had planned.

"What are those for?" he asked, his voice laced with intrigue."The ring is to keep your ass open while I overflow your asshole with cum." Yoy explained. Ghost looked at the anal stretching ring in your hand, then back at you. He knew what it was used for, and the thought alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"You plan on...filling me up completely?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.You nodded, smiling. "Yes, baby. I am going to fill you up so much you won't be able to walk straight."Ghost swallowed hard, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The idea of being filled to the brim with your cum was incredibly arousing, but the thought of having such a large amount inside him was slightly intimidating.

"That sounds...intense," he admitted, his voice shaky.You smiled and nodded. "It will be fun." You said, placing the ring aside before reaching for some lubrication for the ring. Ghost watched as you prepared the anal stretching ring, his heart pounding in his chest. He trusted you, but the thought of having something inserted into his ass was still somewhat daunting.

"Fun," he repeated, trying to convince himself that this really would be enjoyable.You applied the lubrication to the ring and Ghost's ass. "Relax, babe. It might sting a bit, but it shouldn't hurt too much."Ghost took a deep breath, trying to relax as best he could. He knew that you wouldn't do anything to harm him, but the anticipation was still nerve-wracking.

"Okay," he said, nodding slightly. "Let's do this."

As you began to gently push the ring into his ass, he couldn't help but tense up a bit. It felt strange, but not overly painful as you'd promised.When the ring was stretched enough for you, you opened the first bottle of cum. Ghost watched as you opened the first bottle of cum, his curiosity growing stronger. He knew what was coming next, and he found himself eager to experience it.

"How much are you planning to put in me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whispe

r. "Three of these.." you said as you started pouring the first one. Ghost gasped as the first bottle of cum was poured into his ass. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and he couldn't help but moan at the oddly pleasurable feeling.

"Oh fuck," he groaned, feeling his hole stretch further to accommodate the flood of liquid. "That...that actually feels pretty good..."You kept pouring more and more until all three were emptied. You let it sit there for a moment before asking him, "want me to fuck you like this?" You asked, seeing as you still had the strap on. Ghost let out a low moan as the third bottle was emptied into him. His ass felt so full, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

"Yes," he breathed, feeling a surge of arousal at the thought of being fucked while his ass was stuffed with your cum. "Fuck me...I need it..."You smiled, reaching for the strap-on. You slid it on and lubed it up before positioning yourself behind Ghost. You ran your hands over his ass, squeezing and massaging it. "Mmm, you look sexy like this, babe."Ghost shivered as you slid the strap-on on and positioned yourself behind him. Your hands on his ass only heightened his arousal, making him feel even more desperate for you.

"Thank you," he murmured, feeling a sense of pride at how full his ass looked. "Now please...fuck me..."You aligned the tip of the dildo with Ghost's ass. Pressing forward slowly, you pushed it past the ring and into his ass. "God, you're so tight..." You moaned, starting to thrust slowly in and out of him. The cum seeped out of him and onto both your and his thighs. Ghost gasped as the dildo pushed past the ring and into his ass. He was so fucking tight, but your words only served to fuel his arousal.

"Mmh," he moaned, feeling the dildo slide in and out of him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body, making him feel like he was floating on cloud nine.

"I love how big it feels," he confessed, feeling the dildo press against the walls of his ass. "I love how full my ass looks right now..."You continued to thrust into him, watching as his ass bounced with each thrust. You reached around and groped his cock, stroking it slowly as you fucked him. "Your ass looks amazing like this, babe."Ghost moaned loudly as you continued to thrust into him, his ass bouncing with each movement. The feeling of your hand on his cock only made things better, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through his body.

"Thank you," he panted, feeling a sense of satisfaction at hearing your compliment. "You make my ass look so good..."

His own hand moved down to his balls, fondling them lightly as you fucked him. The combination of sensations was driving him wild, making him feel like he was going to explode any second."You're welcome, babe." You picked up the pace, thrusting harder and faster into him. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. You leaned in and whispered into his ear, "How does it feel to have your ass fucked while it's stuffed with cum?"Ghost moaned loudly as you increased the pace, your hard dick slamming into him over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room, adding to the already intense atmosphere.

"It feels...amazing," he panted, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over him. "I've never felt anything like this before...It's so hot having my ass stuffed with cum while you fuck me..."

"You like it, huh? How many bottles do you think you can take?" You asked, leaning in closer to his ear.Ghost let out a loud moan as you continued to pound into him, his ass bouncing with each thrust. The thought of taking even more bottles made his heart race with anticipation.

"As many as you can give me," he breathed, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect. "I want my ass to be so full of your cum that it leaks out every time I move..."You smirked, reaching for another bottle. You poured it into his ass, letting it spill over the sides and onto the floor. "Like this?" You asked, looking down at him with a wicked grin.Ghost moaned loudly as you poured the fourth bottle into his ass, feeling it spill over the sides and onto the floor. The feeling of his ass being so full was overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

"God yes," he panted, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over him. "Keep going...I want to see how much my ass can hold...""You got it, babe." You reached for another bottle, pouring it into his ass until it overflowed. You kept going, filling him up over and over again until there was no space left inside him. "There we go. Now your ass is filled to the brim with my cum."Ghost let out a loud moan as you continued to pour bottle after bottle into his ass, filling him up until there was nowhere else for the cum to go. The feeling of his ass being so full was almost too much to handle, but he loved every second of it.

"Oh God...it's so full," he panted, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over him. "My ass is literally overflowing with your cum...This is the hottest thing ever...""You're welcome, babe." You pulled out of him, letting the excess cum leak out of his ass. You watched as it dribbled down his thighs and onto the floor. "Looks like you're leaking my cum everywhere."Ghost moaned softly as you pulled out of him, feeling the excess cum start to leak out of his ass. The sight of it dribbling down his thighs and onto the floor was incredibly hot, and it only served to turn him on even more.

"God, I love seeing my ass like this," he panted, feeling a sense of satisfaction at knowing that he looked so good. "I'm loving how my ass is leaking your cum all over the place...""You really are a dirty boy, aren't you?" You asked, smirking at him. You grabbed another bottle and started to pour it into his ass once more. "But I guess that's why I like you so much."Ghost moaned loudly as you started to pour another bottle into his ass, feeling the cum start to fill him up once again. The feeling of his ass being so full was almost too much to handle, but he loved every second of it.

"I can't help it," he panted, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over him. "I just love the feeling of my ass being filled with cum...It turns me on so much...""You're such a dirty boy.." You teased, reaching for another bottle. You poured it into his ass, watching as it spilled over the sides and onto the floor. "I bet you'd love to have your ass filled with my cum every day, wouldn't you?"Ghost moaned loudly as you poured yet another bottle into his ass, feeling the cum spill over the sides and onto the floor. The thought of doing this every day sent a shiver of delight through him.

"Oh God, yes," he panted, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over him. "I would absolutely love to have my ass filled with your cum every single day...It's the hottest thing ever...

"

You grinned and went over to your drawer, pulling out a buttplug. "Got a surprise f'you.." you whispered, taking out the ring and replacing it with the buttplug, forcing the cum to stay inside of him. Ghost gasped as you replaced the ring with a buttplug, feeling the pressure inside his ass intensify. He knew what you were doing, and he couldn't help but moan in pleasure at the thought of having your cum trapped inside of him forever.

"Oh God, don't stop," he panted, arching his hips into you. "Leave it in...I want to feel your cum inside of me forever...""You're such a dirty boy..." You whispered, pressing a kiss against his lips before standing back up. "Have fun with that plug, babe."

With that, you walked away from him, leaving him alone in your room with nothing but the buttplug in his ass and the memory of your cum inside of him.Ghost watched as you walked away from him, leaving him alone in your room with nothing but the buttplug in his ass and the memory of your cum inside of him. He felt a sense of loss at your departure, but also a sense of satisfaction at knowing that he had pleased you.

As you left, he took a moment to admire himself in the mirror, noting how good he looked with the buttplug in his ass. He gave himself a little spin, admiring the way his ass jiggled with each movement. He then sat down on the bed, feeling the buttplug press deeper into him. He sighed contentedly, knowing that he would enjoy this for a long time to come.

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Do you have any thoughts on what Satine and Obi-Wan's lives and/or the galaxy at large would have looked like if she'd survived the events of The Lawless?

Oh man, this premise has an infinite number of answers depending on where you go with it. But I think I can give some general principles.

Like ... for example, Satine survives The Lawless but Order 66 is subverted. Actually, I wrote a fic about that (Tethers of Inconvenience), where Satine pursues an arranged marriage with a senator from Kuat (Giddean Danu, a character in the RotS deleted scenes) who would be able to help her rebuild and protect Mandalore, which she finds difficult to do on her own since she humiliated Palpatine and the Senate in TCW Season 2.

But more generally, if she survives The Lawless, I think Obi-Wan takes her back to Coruscant and she lives with Padme. She begs the Senate and Jedi to assist in dealing with the mess on Mandalore. I think that Bo's able to take the planet back, and she and/or Korkie lead since her brainless, idiot, fake-news-believing people are still convinced that she killed Pre Vizsla with her own hands and caused the downfall of their city.

Then, let's say that Order 66 does happen. You've got two diverging roads: 1) Obi-Wan is able to find her and bring her to Tatooine with him, in which case they get to raise Luke together and have a kind of strangely (im)perfect happily ever after living a quiet life neither one of them had before (wonderfully explored in @mg024's Two New Hopes) ...

Or 2) He can't get to her and has to leave her when he goes into hiding, like in @the-obiwan-for-me's Krennictine AU. This has a similar premise to my Marriage AU but with Orson Krennic. In both our AUs, I think we're of the same mind that Satine never loses her personal idealism, but she becomes much more practically minded. I think the run-in with Maul proves to her that "Even extremists can be reasoned with" is much, much too hopeful. I think she's always prepared to sacrifice her personal happiness for her people if need-be, but there's always that piece of her that's longing for her happy ending.

Imperial-era Satine is fascinating because she's the one who characterized the idealism of the Republic but who was really spared suffering by dying before the rise of the Empire. Personally, I think that Palpatine would take very great joy in trying to smash her like a bug once he has no guardrails, given that she was one of the only people who publicly stood against him during the Clone War. I mean ... we kind of forget that after the Republic and the CIS, the largest political entity at play in the Clone War was the Council of Neutral Systems, led by Satine. She's a symbol of the Republic era and she wouldn't go quietly into the night once the man she's always despised proclaims himself Emperor.

I think Palpatine would immediately try to take over Mandalore (canonically, he did within the first year of his reign because he was still using a clone trooper army). In a SatineLives AU, whether he immediately succeeds would probably rest on whether she's willing to negotiate for her people's freedoms (like Bo did with Gideon in The Mandalorian), but even if she did, Palpatine would probably just renege on any agreement they had.

In general though, I lean more toward her giving up any claim to the throne permanently because she thinks Bo (and a Korkie hardened by both The Lawless and the rise of the Empire) can meet Mandalore's needs more than she can.

And if that's the case ... if she has no Mandalore and no Obi-Wan ... I could see her doing something like creating a relief organization that essentially goes from planet to planet cleaning up the effects of the Empire and then eventually becoming a secret organization focusing on saving and rehabilitating injured rebels. It's her way of maintaining her pacifistic ideals in a world where she no longer has the ability to remain fully neutral.

If anyone has any thoughts on these ideas or others of your own, I'd love to hear them!

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

Haven’t seen any Malice!Link so I figured I’d deliver! Can be interrupted with any Link but written with BOTW loosely in mind

Tw: Yandere, Murder, Link is kinda stalkery

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Heroes aren’t supposed to be happy. It's a principle. Every single one in every single book of old parchment is struck down— and often by the very gods that once hailed them. When the weight of his position began to mount on him, Link realised why it was that those heroes fell. In the Hubris from the cheers lining the streets of every village he travelled through and the awe in the eyes of civilians as he passed- it was easy to forget that he was the same as them. At his story’s end, his blood would be split along the earth and his bones would mingle among the dirt. He understood those heroes felled by their wrath, sword in hand he could cut down any opposition, and he’d be enabled. “More” they’d say. And like a puppet, they’d yank his stings and suffocate him out of any other option. When the sun left, dust settled and that burning fire in his chest gave way to empty ribs, he’d have no other option than to look at the cracks in his calloused hands and question if it was really worth it. He understood now why it was that the heroes in the stories -the true stories that was- never got their happy ending. It was because of that realness, that humanity they held, that they would eventually be hindered. No mortal man could walk throughout life as a paragon of perfection. It was simply impossible.

Or, so he’d thought for many years. You, wits as sharp as his blade, kinder to the world than any true god has been in a long while, beauty it’d be criminal to suggest a comparison. You. You who he’d happily lay down lives for. You who, when he’d bare his teeth and lash out, you’d soothe with gentle words and gentler hands. You were a god walking among mortals, that much he was sure. In fact, he had no care for what anyone had to say. Hylia herself could debate it with him, but the longer he lives, the more Link is sure that her words are lies. She herself told him he was ready. He’d done everything right and yet he could feel the *otherness* pulsing within his cranium, begging to crack bone and be free. He himself could never get the malice that festered in his blood to behave. It bounded like a rabid dog, demanding the destruction of whatever lay between him and his goal. But where the gloom bit at him beneath his skin, it keened under your fingertips. That feral animal was tame for you. Where his goal used to lie within those fields of war, it now lies in you. Having you, wholly, unrivalled by anyone else in his pursuit. No one could love you as much as him. That much was certain.

He’d been watching you more often now. Sure, being travel ‘buddies’ —on your name he detested the word, he’d far rather be your lover— meant near every second was spent side by side, but there were moments you were led astray. Moments you insisted on being left alone, something he simply couldn’t allow if his dearest. Afterall, you couldn’t properly defend yourself while bathing, so it was only right that he watched. When the curse on his blood made it difficult to sleep, you made it better, clearer. Of course he should stay with you! There was no one else in Hyrule that would accept him now the malice showed in his scars. He was the very monster he once fought. He’d become the very thing he sought to once destroy. You must understand that he loves you, more than one man should even be allowed to love, can’t he cuddle you for at least the night? Can’t you help heal his aching bones?

Looking at the corpse, he felt no semblance of guilt. That once person had tried chatting you up while you’d been separated. All sorts of disgusting things, Link was sure. The man orchestrated it, he must’ve. There was simply no other way he could have possibly been led away from such divinity as yourself. No matter, the rat was dead now. All he had to do next morning was whine about the rude townsfolk, and you’d be on your merry way, you fussing over him all the while. He loved your attention. He waited on you hand and foot, back and call. Much like a loyal dog he supposed, but it didn’t matter if it were you. To be yours was to be happy, to achieve the goal no hero could. You were love itself and how lucky of a man he was to bask in it, to hold it to his chest, to breathe in its scent. How lucky he was to love you.

[crownmemes]

Criminal Sentences, Vol. 20

(Sentences from various sources for criminals and/or dangerous muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"As tempting as your offer may be, I am a man of principles.... And they bribed me first."

"Think twice about playing games with me; I will blow you to pieces."

"I'm not an expert, I'm not an authority - I'm just an extremely accomplished murderer who spent my adult life successfully evading capture."

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

"For three men to keep a secret, two of them have got to be dead."

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten - you're moonlighting as a criminal mastermind now."

"You must never underestimate me, nor I you."

"It's not easy. Butchering people is hard work."

"Do this right and this job will put us back on the map."

"It's hard stabbing people!"

"And I had you down as a goody two-shoes!"

"If what we're doing doesn't get under your skin, you're either more screwed up than I thought, or you're kidding yourself."

"Do you have any idea how many enemies I have out there?"

"I can delay this, but it won't go away."

"I'm not in the business of being fair! I'm in the business of making money!"

"You've gone soft. We're going to fix that, for your own benefit."

"Can I make a suggestion that doesn't involve violence?"

"I don't think he killed anybody like the newspapers were saying. I think it was you."

"You gave me an empty gun?"

"A head weighs less than a body."

"You dismiss me at your peril."

"Does anyone know you're here?"

"You have some very 'interesting' friends."

"I think you used me before, and I think you're using me now."

"Any lock can be picked if you know how."

"Is it possible that you're upset because the article doesn't mention you?"

"I've done a lot of things for you in the past, but this? No way."

"I'll keep that in mind in case I ever kill somebody."

"I know what you're afraid of me. It's okay; I'd be afraid too."

"It's different being on this side, isn't it?"

"If you don't do this, I'll have you killed. Nothing personal; it's just business."

"There are two things I never forget: faces, and being fucked over!"

"I must warn you that my patience is not inexhaustible."

"Remember when we had that conversation about how you were going to lay low?"

"I've been waiting a long time for someone good enough to take me down."

"If anyone gets nosy, just shoot them."

"You are incredibly evil."

"We stay out of other people's business out here, if you catch my drift."

"You know, you're a marvellously deceptive man."

"Together we'll trick the world!"

"And that is exactly what bad ethics and zero impulse control will get you!"

[tttovarichhh]

Die or fuck

And Rick Grimes has nowhere to run again. From Negan, from his responsibilities, from himself. From himself first and foremost.

"Eh Rick, well what am I supposed to do with you?"

Negan grins crookedly, arching his back, stretching. Rick is sickened by that grin, so catlike that it makes Grimes want to howl. Perhaps only dog-like behaviour can resist Negan's endless desire to break, to appropriate, after smiling sweetly, smashing another innocent's skull with a bat.

"I've given away more than half of what we have. Alexandria has to survive somehow too, we don't collect tribute from other settlements like some."

"Oh, I don't even know who we're talking about," Negan whispers, bending down to Grimes' ear. The whisper sends a wave of goosebumps through Rick's body and he cringes, trying to push the intrusive thoughts out of his head. The thoughts swarm beneath his skull, screaming for the lips that are so close they could bite in, licking away the blood.

No, Rick, hell no, get a grip.

"Rickii? I'm still here," Negan leans against the wall next to Grimes, literally backing Rick into a corner. He rests the bat on the shoulder of the man across from him and smiles again, running his tongue along the white row of teeth. And Rick gasps.

"What do you want from me?" Rick literally whispers on an exhale, hearing the voice betray him. Fuck.

"From you? Oh, Rick, I've already got quite a list assembled. Do you want it alphabetical or by date?"

Grimes feels queasy. He averts his eyes, examining the clock on the wall. Rick has never once seen it working - time had stopped in Alexandria even before Grimes' group showed up at the settlement and sometimes he really thinks, what if they'd never ended up here in the first place? What if Negan hadn't turned out to be an enemy, but a friend with whom they would have literally ripped off neighbouring villages together? No, that's impossible. At the very least, because Grimes has a concept of morals and principles, the bastard on the contrary doesn't.

"Yeah, Ricky, you're getting boring," the bat slides down his shoulder closer to his throat and Grimes feels the wire digging into his skin.

"I don't have time for fun. Especially when my men are being robbed."

"Rick, relax. I don't like boring people. They don't live much, especially around me."

Negan touches Grimes' chin with his fingers with a glove, slides cheekbone line, and then raises the man's head sharply to meet his eyes.

"And something has changed, hasn't it? In those eyes. And that's what I like."

"I don't understand," he tries to lower his gaze, but Negan won't let him, still holding him firmly by the chin.

"Oh, come on. Or am I affecting you so much that something in your head shuts off? Oh yeah, I can see it in your eyes. Ricky, Ricky Grimes, who would have thought you'd break down like that?"

"Enough."

Negan grins, pressing Grimes sharply against the wall in the very corner, gently sliding his fingers from his cheekbones down Rick's neck to the collar of his shirt.

"No, that's not how it works. Not with me. You know, it was on the list from the beginning, but I wanted to break you a little longer. But why, really? It's all clear enough."

"Negan, please," Rick whispers barely audible, closing his eyes and pressing his whole body into the wall. The very same swarm of thoughts is now buzzing in his head, crowding out all other thoughts, especially the remnants of sanity.

"Die or fuck. You don't have a choice. No, there is a choice - me or Lucille drinking your blood."

And Rick surrenders. To Negan and to himself, to his vows and beliefs and confessions. Rick surrenders, pitching forward, touching his lips to Negan's, cursing himself for this weakness. His heart repeats the dead loop from the Independence Day airshow he loved to watch with Carl, travelling to another state on purpose. Right now, Grimes is the same plane pilot who makes the fatal mistake of falling out of his seat, forgetting to fasten his seatbelt and finding himself at the mercy of the elements. And the elements suck him in, kissing him back, predatory, impatient, playing with his tongue. Rick melts, biting the man's lower lip, tasting his blood like it's as important to him as water and food. God, this is unbearable.

"Whoa, someone wants it all at once," Negan laughs hoarsely, only pressing his body harder against Rick's, closing off any possible avenues of escape. And Grimes doesn't even think about retreating.

"Maybe that was on my list, too?"

Negan only grins at those words, setting the bat aside, close enough to reach if necessary, and kisses Rick again, moving down to his neck, licking the scratches left by the wire. Rick buries his fingers in Negan's hair, pulling away the back of his head as if still trying to fight.

"Why you?"

"Because I can kill you, but you can never kill me. And that turns you on."

"Bastard," Grimes hisses, clinging to Negan's lips again as if it were his lifeline, which in fact only drags him down harder.

Negan's fingers slide under Rick's t-shirt, tugging at his ribs and the short scars between them and Grimes moans softly as the Saviours leader touches an old scar from a former life without zombies or questions about his own sexuality.

[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 1)

Summary: For what it's worth, you don't know the man who's pointing the gun at your face. It's strange how one goes from bakery owner getting robbed to wanted fugitive. Oh, and then there's the target you put on your own back by associating with one Frank Castle. Surprisingly, you two have a lot in common.

Words: 4.1K

Series Masterlist | NEXT CHAPTER

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For what it's worth, you don't know the man who’s pointing the gun at your face. It is difficult, in these circumstances, to convince yourself that this was somehow brought on by choices made in the past, even with the sophisticated talent you have for self-condemnation. He's not a disgruntled ex-boyfriend, or an unstable relative you sassed one too many times over Thanksgiving dinner. He isn’t one of your past mistakes. He's just some guy. 

He's aiming an M1911 somewhere below your clavicles and shouting words you've never been on the receiving end of, and in the time it takes him to do so, you're successful in finding one good thing about this whole experience: at least he isn't making one of your employees stare down the barrel, even if they have to watch you do it from a few feet away. Eliza and Ramón are adults, enrolled in the local college and with bills to pay, but to you they may as well be children. 

The man has a stutter you only notice when he calls you a bitch for the second time, deeming you too fucking slow in emptying the cash register into his bag. You wonder how he reached the conclusion that four hundred dollars would be worth the hassle. Who robs a bakery on a Saturday morning? People sleep in, especially in a small town. Or, most people do. The dark-haired man sitting all the way in the back with a half-eaten stack of pancakes looks wide awake. You don't know him either, but you don't think he's from around here. 

It's weird, in a way, that you aren't really thinking about what's happening in front of you. A bubble has fogged up your attention, and all that you remark upon is how the mellow 80’s playlist you picked out for today hasn't abruptly stopped playing. Thus, you'll always remember the current song as the soundtrack to your first time getting robbed. While you gather the bills from their slots in the register, it strikes you that you didn't have a song for other firsts in life. Not that there were that many worthy of background music. If anything, this feels fitting precisely because you couldn't have predicted which song would be playing when some asshole would pull his gun on you. What used to be lyrical perfection to you will likely ring a little apropos, from now until forever. You will, indeed, be waiting on a sunny day after this — many thanks to Bruce Springsteen for distracting you. 

"Are you deaf, bitch? Move it over. " 

The bubble evaporates. Yeah. Real grateful. 

You're going to do as he asks, because you are not alone. You won’t risk any lives, even if the Colt's safety has been on this entire time. You wonder if it's even his gun, by the way his hand curls around it clumsily. No real, hardened criminal would get so close when they have a ranged weapon, and maybe you’re right, but you won't take your chances. Speed in retrieving your own weapon is not the issue here — it's that if you do, you have to use it. You're not so sure it's the best course of action, even if the skin at your back itches against the warm metal nestled there. 

He's young. He didn't even bother covering his face, and the eye-watering lime green of his jacket is the very opposite of stealth wear. Maybe he's desperate, or maybe this is his first time too, though you don't think it'll be his last, especially since you've so far let it go smoothly for him.

You pause. This will give him the confidence to do it again some time, with someone else. Someone who isn't trying as hard as you to keep their impulses in check. Someone who doesn't have any urges at all, acting only on adrenaline and principles. 

You've always believed you weren't made out of the same things others were, and that's always proved true in the most unflattering ways. When you were followed home eight years ago and instead of freezing in fear, your body fought back until the skin barely clung to your stalker's face. When your first boss out of high school cornered you next to a dumpster to ask for a favor in return for the loan he'd given you, one that you'd already paid back, and he found himself short a couple of inches— terrible for him, because that was pretty much all he'd had. 

When Mark Davidson, a name you'd never forget, tricked your grandmother into signing away her house, and then his own turned to embers just two days later. It doesn't take you long to make a decision. It didn't take Mark very long to figure out the culprit behind his real estate mishap either, but only one of you walked away from the old quarry in that faded industrial town. 

There is, you realize, a choice being presented here. None of the other instances felt this ambiguous; either you fought, or you went along with an injustice and suffered for it. Plenty of people fight back out of a desire to protect themselves and their property, and plenty more do the exact opposite out of a desire to keep their lives. You aren't sure where you fit in this particular situation. The past has taught you time and again that you're part of the people who fight, but that has only ever resulted in a trail of smoke and no place to call home, because while fighting is one thing, not knowing when to stop is another.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?! I said move it over. ”

You didn’t have to do what you did. You could’ve stopped hitting when your stalker fell limp. You could’ve quit your job. Taken Mark to court instead of resorting to arson. Instead, you went with your instincts. You’re staring down the barrel again.

People catch on quickly in small towns, and having a reputation in the way that you used to is only good for warding off trouble. The bad people don't want to get close. But, neither do the nice ones. 

This is a nice town. Lively, warm. The people are bearable— even good, on occasion. Thoughts of your elderly neighbor are quick to surface, and the knowledge that Hazel expects you back home weighs heavily in favor of doing the very thing you're not used to doing. She'd be awfully disappointed if Sunday breakfast was canceled because you decided to give in to your worst impulses and fight like a rabid dog in the face of whatever provoked you. 

The man thrusts the gun even closer to your face with a slight tremor, a show of impatience. 

This is a good place to be. You never went back to industrial Auckney, and you don't want a repeat experience to follow you here like it followed you throughout the previous three towns where you tried to build a life. You don't want to have to leave. You don't want to make Hazel sad. So, you choose to let him go. You let it go. 

And just like that, you hand it over. There's no magical moment, no switch that flips. Making a decision that goes against your every instinct is a learning experience. You're not sure how suited you are to this new path. 

From there, things are quick to end. Once he's got a hold of the money, he backs out of the modest premises all wild-eyed, looking like he expects the cops to pull up at any moment. He's watched too much TV. Nobody even called them. A moment later, he takes off running down the street, green jacket like a neon sign against the stretch of asphalt. 

Breathe.  

Your rigid fingers unglue themselves from the counter's laminate surface and you finally turn your back, the gesture bordering on unnatural. As you do, your gaze settles on Eliza first. A nineteen year old girl with a frame that could be blown away by the wind is looking right through you, her fingers moving erratically against the blacked out touch screen of her phone. 

Five small steps bring you to her. You try to steady her shaking form while removing the phone from her hands. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's over, he's gone," you reassure her, but her breathing has picked up too quickly to go back down with just a few kind words. 

"Need to— I need to call the police. I—" 

Your hands find her shoulders as you hold eye contact and try to soothe her to the best of your ability. 

"You don't need to do anything other than breathe. I'll handle this. If you want to call someone, call a friend to come pick you up and drive you home. Ramón, you too. Take a few days off." 

The college junior throws you the strangest look you've seen in a while, but he too is shaken enough that he doesn't have the energy or the will to protest. 

"Come on. Go sit down for a bit. Both of you," you tell them, reaching under the counter for a bottle of water that you hand Ramón, silently gesturing towards the back room. A different environment would be good for wracked nerves. 

The two make their way towards the kitchen, and your eyes soften at the way Eliza has leaned into Ramón's embrace, quiet sniffles soon cut off by the stainless steel door. You aren't breathing quite right yourself, but you can live with it until things are settled. You can. You have to, because you aren't leaving this town. Not over some prick with shaky hands and horrible judgment. 

"Ma'am?" 

Instinct surges, and this time you can't force it back down. Fingers drawn to the Kimber's grip at your back, the movement feels almost liberating when you turn on your heel and lock target onto what startled you. Not that you'd ever admit it. You can't believe you didn't hear him coming until he was right there, staring at you with narrowed eyes. The dark-haired man in the back. Your only other witness. 

His hands go up in the universal gesture of surrender — or at least no harm intended — but it's too late. You've pulled a gun on a customer, and despite the fact that you kept your finger off the trigger, the damage is done. Lowering the weapon feels like a personal failure. You should've done this to the right person, less than three minutes ago. The man who's now in front of you has nothing to do with your misguided choice. 

But, he isn't leaving. Despite what you just did, he's looking at you in a way you can't decipher. Maybe he's one of those people who are hard to read, or easy to misread . Is it concern, or something else? On second thought, maybe you don't really care, unless he is a local and you've just tipped your hand in the long run. He certainly doesn’t look like the type of person to settle down in a place like this. If he’s just passing through, you can live with putting a gun in his face, as long as no one else saw you do it. 

"You alright?" 

The question surprises you, as does the way he asks it — genuinely enough, but the look he's pairing it with makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. He's watching too closely. There's too much knowledge behind his eyes, and something within you stirs uncomfortably. You don't even try for innocent. Instead, you put the .45 back where it came from and sigh, looking as dejected as possible. It isn't hard to do. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I'm a little jumpy after… all that." 

The man takes in your words quietly, a single nod his only response. 

"Hell of a quick draw, that." 

You blink in surprise. Answering the remark is tricky. Is it praise, or judgment? Both? What do you say to either? You can't let too much time pass before you answer, as that would be an answer in itself. You settle on hiding the truth in plain sight. 

"Probably wondering why I didn't do that earlier, huh?" you ask, a nervous huff coloring your words. You lean on the counter separating you from the man, painting yourself a version of fragile that you hope translates well to his watchful eyes. But, to your dismay, he shakes his head, scanning you even more closely than before. 

"Nah. You had kids in here. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for. You did the right thing." 

It's not what you want to hear. It's also not something you think he's entitled to say, as though he's some kind of authority figure. What makes him so sure this was the right thing to do? You don't think it was. The more time elapses between now and the robbery, the more regret pools in your chest. You're having a hard time with the follow-through part of your decision to let it go, and he is most definitely not helping. 

The vexation makes your jaw tighten and the corner of your mouth turn down just so, and the all-knowing eyes studying you take notice. The words spill out before your brain can catch the mistake. 

"I don't see a badge on you, mister." 

It only takes him a second to pick up on the scorn in your remark, but to your great annoyance, he doesn't seem offended. On the contrary, the smirk rising to the surface suggests sardonic amusement. It also paints his face with the kind of insufferable attractiveness you’ve always been agitated by. 

"Should be glad about that. A cop probably would've done something stupid. He'd have gotten someone shot, tryna be a hero." He speaks words you can't help but feel are directed more at you than a theoretical police officer. Yet again, you don't bite your tongue, speaking with the same stiffness in your jaw. 

"Maybe. Or maybe he'd have just shot him down before the guy could pull the safety back on his own gun." 

"So why didn't you?" he counters immediately, the low timbre of his voice almost making his words vibrate through you. 

You breathe in sharply through your nose. The challenge in his tone is more curiosity than genuine provocation, but it still doesn't sit well alongside your growing frustration. Another veiled truth finds its way past your lips as you hold his hardened gaze. 

"Like you said. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for." 

He considers your answer for a moment or two, and then it's as if something hidden from view pulls his features into a different scene. A softer look takes hold, and on a man of his size and projected disposition, it looks almost out of place. Almost. You're not sure if the sudden change means he knows you weren't talking about yourself. 

He shuffles on his feet imperceptibly — not a mark of discomfort so much as it is, you suspect, restlessness. He clears his throat once, and then his eyes are no longer on you. 

"You uh, gonna call the cops any time soon?"

At his question, your gaze follows his a few inches to the right, where Eliza's phone rests atop the counter. It's where you placed it intentionally, so that she'd forget about what she wanted to do. And from the way he asked, you wonder if he's onto you about that.

"I'll file a report later. No need for them to show up. Not like they're gonna catch him," you say dismissively, finally leaning away from the counter and straightening your posture. You put some distance between you and him by taking one step back, wordlessly signaling that you’re done talking and hoping he's astute enough to pick up on body language cues. The slightest pursing of his lips tells you he is. Conversation over. 

He lingers only one more moment before he offers a final nod in your direction, turning in a distinctly controlled way that reeks of military habit and walking off. Only, he stops just short of reaching the door, and his hesitation makes the tension in your jaw return. He doesn't fully look back at you as he speaks. 

"It'll give those kids peace of mind. You should call 'em." 

You hold back a scoff. 

"Are you familiar with the cops in this town?" you drawl, a twinge of sarcasm flowing off your tongue. 

"No, ma'am. Can't say I am." 

The half-smirk you can still glimpse pulling at his lips beckons you to wipe it off, but you manage to hold back. He's almost out the door, anyway. 

"Well, for the record… We'd be safer with a labrador for defense. At least it's got teeth."

"That right?" he grins as if you've tickled his funny bone. He doesn't seem to have all that stellar of an opinion about the police either, if his jab about the theoretical cop is anything to go by. He's still not looking at you, and you don't understand what the hell he's stalling for. Typically, anyone witnessing what he did a little while ago would be out the door the minute it was over. And yet, here he stands, after you pointed a gun at him. Still.

"Yeah, that's right," you confirm, hoping this is finally the end of the exchange. 

It sure seems that way for a short moment of blessed silence.

"Is that why you picked a Warrior?"

His eyes finally veer towards you, smile completely gone. The muscles in your back are suddenly taut once more, and your lungs fill with air they greedily keep for a few seconds longer than they ought to. You don't know what to say. You're not sure why he's bringing up the model of your firearm, like he isn't even bothered that you shoved it in his face earlier. Maybe he's not. Maybe he's a weirdo. Maybe you're trying to convince yourself he doesn't know exactly what you're thinking, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

A scowl fights for control of your features as your hands twitch by your sides. You're still high on anger and guilt and growing resentment for not doing what you were itching to do earlier. Right next to those feelings, the desire to preserve the image it's taken you four years to build is putting up its own fight, albeit much less valiantly. You just want to be alone with your thoughts. Just a moment where you don't have to pretend. You don't know how long you have before your employees return from the kitchen.

"I don't follow," is what you say instead of telling him to get the hell out already.

It's not the right thing to say, because he fixes you with an unimpressed look and takes a couple of steps back inside. You've never had your bullshit called this efficiently, let alone by someone who doesn't know you.

"They didn't name it that 'cause it's meant for defense . And that ain't no standard issue you got there. I'm just— Look,"

You can't resist the urge to make a fist when he closes the distance again, ending up right back where he started. The only thing separating you once more is the service counter, but with the way he's staring you down, it might as well not exist. He looks away briefly, like he isn't sure he's going to say whatever words are already forming on his lips.

"It's none of my business. I get that. But I know that look in your eye, 'cause I've seen it a hundred times before. So I'm just gonna lay it out, alright?" he says, not asking or waiting for permission. "You're gonna go home tonight, and you're gonna toss and turn and not sleep 'til dawn thinkin' about what happened here. And you're gonna want to even the scales, or whatever bullshit you're telling yourself right now. But I'm telling you not to. Once it starts, that shit never ends. It follows you everywhere. Every goddamn place you set foot in."

The gruff voice, steady and so determined it infiltrates some deep part of your mind, softens on the very end of the sentence that you have no doubt will be the thing you'll actually think about tonight.

It follows you everywhere.

You should've told him to fuck off ten minutes ago. If you had, you wouldn't be standing here, trembling in anger. Or, at least, not this type of anger. The air you forcibly breathe out does not ease the tension.

Whatever desire to hold back that was present before is overpowered in its entirety by one single element. One thing that could easily define your life up until this point, and probably in perpetuity: not knowing when to back the fuck down. If he wants to have a go, well, who are you to deny him?

"Getting awfully personal there for someone whose name I don't even know. Sure you're not projecting a tiny bit?" you incise, a pitying pout meant to yank his chain blooming on your lips.

"Is that why your finger's twitching?" he shoots back, gaze locked on to the left hand resting by your side, except for the consistent movement of one particular finger. You abruptly stop, but it's hard for knowing eyes to mistake a trigger itch for anything else.

He knows that you know that he knows what you're thinking.

"Look, mister," you begin, absent a polite tone. "Whatever you think I am or am not going to do, you're right: it is none of your business. But seeing as it's so important to you, let me give you some peace of mind ." Throwing his words back at him makes you feel better, like you're slowly gaining an upper hand in whatever battle this nonsensical exchange is.

Pausing, you lean a little closer to him unnecessarily, an air of defiance permeating the space between you. You're sure it's both him and you contributing to it. You bite the inside of your cheek briefly right before you open your mouth again.

The distinct squeak of the back door swinging open halts the flow of words before it even begins, and Eliza soon enters your peripheral vision. For one short moment, the interruption riles you up, but you realize that this is the best way to ensure he fucks off once and for all. Just focus on someone else. Anyone else. You're happy to avoid that unnerving stare for the rest of your life.

Your stand-off finally ends when the young woman reaches your side, and you break your gaze away from the man's in order to give Eliza your attention, as well as to clearly send the message he's been having trouble getting. You aren't interested in his lecture, or the way you can still feel his eyes on you for a few more seconds after you've looked away.

It's only as you talk to Eliza about having her mother pick her up that you finally hear the man's quiet sigh of defeat, though it sounds more frustrated than upset to your ears. Good.

Then, just when you think he's given up, a hand slaps against the counter with a crinkling sound, the familiarity of it leaving no room for interpretation. You're about to throw him a look and sass him about having already paid for his meal, but before you can, he's already started walking off.

Your lips purse as you watch him exit the building, gait once again reminiscent of military custom. It's self-assured yet stiff, and you're pretty convinced at this point that he must've served. Whatever. Some rando with a chip on his shoulder has no business getting a rise out of—

As you look back at Eliza, a cursory glance to the bills he laid down has your muscles tensing again, and you resist the urge to go out after him. It's not the four hundred-dollar notes that piss you off. How he knew the exact amount handed over in the robbery wasn't much of a surprise to you, what with how keenly he’d watched everything unfold.

It's the two singles laid out on top of the pile that really get under your skin, a simple message he went out of his way to send.

Couple bucks ain't worth dying for.

.

.

-to be continued-

A/N: I'm in my Frank Castle era so strap in folks. I love soft!Frank but we're going to be getting a lot of asshole!Frank in this one, which I argue has the potential to be even more delicious. We'll have fluff, smut and all the goodness of Frank and Reader antagonizing each other while being mad about each other. Chapter 2 is ready to post for Friday!

[josefavomjaaga]

I was listening to a podcast episode and the guest mentioned that Eugène was liked by the allies because he had principles. He was always loyal to Napoleon and never made too much of a fuss throughout the Empire like the Bonaparte siblings did, so when the Congress was underway they were happy to entreat with him. Would you say this is the case?

I guess I need to learn to express myself more carefully so I don't get myself into hot waters again, but in one word: No?

I think I've already quoted several instances of how Eugène in the beginning of the congress felt sidelined, disregarded, ignored. His letters to his wife, the reports of Vienna secret police about him standing all alone during the first public events and about members of Italian delegations cutting short any talk with him while badmouthing him behind his back, even archduke Johann's diary.

Of course it's hard to say without having heard the podcast what the guest meant by their remark. That the four big players could not avoid letting him in, as the only "napoleonide" of the event? That is correct. But - in my opinion - the only reason he was there and was heard was due to tsar Alexander. That was also the impression of contemporary witnesses and one more reason for people in Vienna to hate Alexander. The treaty of Fontainebleau that promised Eugène a "suitable principality outside of France" was mostly Alexander's work to begin with. And if Alexander had not ostensibly taken Eugène under his wing in Vienna, Eugène would have been pushed aside completely, like so many others. That's proven by the fact that, as soon as he lost Alexander's protection and Alexander lost much of his influence at the congress (after Napoleon's return from Elba), all dreams about a sovereign principality went out the window.

As to loyalty, modesty, friendliness etc, those were personal qualities that made Eugène liked. They did not make him respected. Not to forget: this is the beginning of the post-napoleonic era. The "great man"-style historiography has just received the ultimate great man to drone over. Those who want to be respected will have to do a lot of chest drumming and muscle flexing from now on, no matter how ridiculous it looks.

Eugène, like always, trusted that people would treat each other fairly at the congress. In truth it was several months of haggling, and those who had nothing to offer and nothing to threaten with were in a bad position. Diplomacy, much more than a military battle, is a game of chess. Eugène was just another pawn to be sacrificed.

Thanks for the question, sorry I cannot answer any better!

[gay-dorito-dust]

what about xavier thorpe x reader adult au. When they have kids and the kids go to nevermore for the first time. I'm just dying for family fluff

A/n: In the instance that I forget to mention any, if not all, of them. Yours and Xavier’s Children’s names: Skylar, Samuel and Katherine Thorpe.

“Dad, is Nevermore scary?” Skylar, your youngest, asked as Xavier drove through Nevermore’s iron gates. God did it felt almost a lifetime ago that your parents were driving you through those gates as a teenager, scared out of your wits at your newfound abilities that weren’t there before; Needless to say you understood where Skylar was coming from because you were Skylar once. “What? No! Nevermore’s not scary Sky. It may look it on the outside but I promise you the moment you step through those doors your perspective on the school will change,” Xavier then snapped his fingers, “just like that,” he then quickly cast his gaze towards you before looking back at the road, “I’m sure your mother will attest to that statement.”

“You guys went to the same school!” Katherine, second eldest, gasped as she looked up from her phone for the first time throughout the entire ride to look between you and Xavier within the rear view mirror. “Yes, Nevermore is where I first met your dad. However he was dating your auntie, Bianca Barclay at the time.” You had told her and Samuel this story before but advanced technology seemed to have fried their brain and rot away the memory for them; Again you couldn’t hold this against them as everyone back when you and Xavier were students were just as chronically online as children of today were.

“And Skylar,” you called softly to your youngest, sliding your hand through the gap between your seats to grasp his, squeezing it reassuringly, “your father is right. Nevermore may look scary at first but once you find your rhythm you’ll soon realise that it’s just like any other school.” You intentionally skipped a few things during your stint as a student that you were certain Xavier was more then happy that you did. What happened during your stint as students between Thornhill, Tyler being the man behind the monster killing people, Principle Weems’ death, Joseph Crackstone’s resurrection and Wednesday’s weirdo stalker during second semester; none of which were exactly something either of you wanted any of your children finding out about. Ever.

Once you and Xavier had graduated from Nevermore and the day you became pregnant with your firstborn son, Samuel James Thorpe, you both swore to never speak about the horrors lurking within Nevermore’s corridors unless approached first. All of your children bore striking resemblances of both of you, in equal parts personality traits as opposed to physical ones so you wouldn’t be all that taken aback if any of them quickly caught onto Nevermore and -by extension- Jericho’s true nature. “Are Primrose and Dalia going to be there?” Skylar asked which peaked both Samuel and Katherine’s interest. Primrose and Dalia Addams were the children of Enid and Wednesday Addams, adopted but they were very much alike their mothers in every way possible.

Primrose, a girl with shoulder blonde hair and bright, optimistic eyes and an all encompassing love of everything bubblegum pop and boy groups, was the spitting image of Enid in her youth while as Dalia, a girl with the deception of a black cloud with her dark raven hair that fell way below her shoulders and beady brown eyes that many have claimed to see the devil within alongside with her penchant for guillotines and torture weapons, was the spitting image of Wednesday in hers. You, Xavier, Enid and a begrudging Wednesday would always set up play dates for your children whenever you could possible; All in the hopes of building a tight knitted friendship between all of them in the instances that they had each other the rely on should Nevermore proved in becoming too much for any of them.

Thankfully with enough time, Skylar, Katherine, Samuel, Dalia and Primrose became as thick as thieves by the age of eleven. You and Xavier loved Primrose and Dalia as though they were your own and found your children’s constant need to see them heartwarming. “Of course they are champ,” Xavier assured, looking at his little buddy through the rear view mirror, “and they’re pretty excited in hearing that you three were also attending Nevermore that they demanded to come to Nevermore also.” The excitement upon Skylar, Katherine’s and Samuel’s faces never failed to melt either you nor Xavier’s heart as you both shared a smile as you heard the children chattering to each other. You moved back into a more comfortable position within the passengers seat when Xavier’s hand moved to take ahold of your thigh.

“You alright there sweetheart?” He asked lowly and when you looked at him confused Xavier continued, “your brows furrowed and your bitting down on the skin of your bottom lip, you only do that when your nervous.” He squeezes your thigh, “you can tell me anything you know. We’re a team remember and a team doesn’t leave it’s never a member in the dark.” Of course you remember, you made that vow on your wedding day after all. “I’m just scared for our children but it’s probably just me trying to find an excuse to frighten myself.” You told him, making sure your voice didn’t cross a certain barrier whilst your children were still preoccupied by being children; You didn’t want Nevermore to take that away from them should something sinister occur once more.

“Hey, there’s no need for you to be putting yourself into question.” Xavier scolded, he hated whenever you doubted yourself or put yourself down for what you were feeling, as though you perceived yourself as a lesser being who shouldn’t be aloud to openly express the vast array of emotions within. “your valid in feeling that way, hell I’m frightened myself because what we’ve been through during our school career hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park for our mental health.” You placed your hand atop of Xavier’s and squeezed it as you smiled at him softly. “I love you, did you know that?” Xavier looks away, a little flustered before bringing your hand up to his lips, where he pressed a kiss to your skin. “You remind me from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep.”

He admitted, smiling softly to himself as he recounted how often he’d find himself awaking to you staring at him as though he was a mosaic masterpiece. Prepping his jawline and neck in kisses whenever he got insecure or how you’d leave little reminders of why you loved and adored him on post it notes; even going as far as to include a crude stick figure drawing of the whole family in some cases that never failed to make him smile so wide his dimples popped out. Xavier kept those reminders in a shoebox he tucked underneath the clothes of his side of the wardrobe so that whenever he felt shitty, he could always revert to them in lifting his spirits because at the end of the day he couldn’t be more grateful in having you as his life partner. You saved him on multiple occasions and now he was given them golden opportunity to save you and he wasn’t about to leave you to drown in your thoughts.

Just as you were about to reply, Skylar pushed his head between the front seats and pointed up ahead, a smile stretched so wide across his face that his dimples popped out, “WE’RE HERE!” He cried as he, Katherine and Samuel scrambled to unbuckle themselves from their seats as you looked to find that you had pulling up into the driveway of Nevermore Academy. “Alright, alright you little monsters don’t look too excited, will you.” Xavier said sarcastically as they got out the car and made their way to the boot, impatiently calling out to both of you.

Xavier groaned playfully as he fully committed to the bit of a begrudging father by slowly removing his seatbelt; smirking at Skylar, Samuel and Katherine’s groans of annoyance as you smacked his shoulder, biting back your own laughter. “Pack it in before they decided to use your art studio as their play area as revenge.” You snickered when his eyes became wide with fear at the prospect of his beloved art studio being turned into a war zone by three gremlins that he calls his beloved children. “I’m coming kids!” Xavier calls as he opened his door and bolted to opening the boot for Samuel, Katherine and Skylar.

“How chivalrous.” You mused as you unbuckled yourself and got out of the car to join by Xavier’s side to press a kiss against each of their foreheads. “Now be on your best behaviours, don’t do anything that we wouldn’t do and most importantly,” you paused for suspense as your children waited on baited breath for your final request as a smile broke out on your lips, “don’t leave them hanging, the suspense is killing them!” Xavier nudged you by the shoulder.

“Are you sure it’s them that the suspense is killing?”

“Y/n!”

“Alright!” You chuckled before looking at your children, “most importantly we want you to enjoy yourselves. Now, one big hug for the road?” You asked as you and Xavier both opened up your arms for Samuel, Skylar and Katherine to run into them as you all squeezed your goodbyes into each other, sharing a few more forehead kisses before having to force yourselves into letting each other go as you and Xavier watched as your children scamper up the staircase to the entrance hall with their bags, though not before turning one final time to wave you both goodbye.

[warping-realities]

A Better Familly I

Melissa was furious but she couldn't show her feelings, not there in her workplace, although it was precisely because of her work that she felt that way. She was a daughter of Mexican immigrants and had encountered her share of asshole rich men in her life. But she wasn't expecting to find an arrogant boy lying completely naked waiting for her in the dorm she would have to clean. It was a tremendous shock, as the place should have been empty and suddenly she was facing a… a… she preferred to forget. At that moment she wanted to finish off the boy with her broom. But she needed that job to support herself while she attended nursing school at night. Her father could have helped her of course, his auto repair shop was doing well, but she refused on principle to bother him about it. And there was that other reason too… Henry, though in there he was Professor Roberts. Here's a rich and influential man who broke the mold, she thought as her eye was caught by a glow in the corner of the hall.

"What do we have here?" She murmured to herself, holding a small metallic disc in her hand.

As she admired the Reality Warper someone snuck up behind her and hugged her around the waist. "Hijo de la …" She started to curse thinking that the cheeky boy had decided on a new type of advance, but she controlled herself when she saw who was actually grabbing her. "Henry… I mean, Professor Roberts, don't do that here."

"Ah, Mel, where then? We never have time for ourselves." "I know, but this is my job and yours too, it could get us into trouble." "It won't if the relationship is official." "Henry, don't play with this." "No kidding, I know your classes don't start until next week. How about I drop by your house tonight so we can make things official with your dad? You told me he's the traditional type, so I want to start from a right way." "Oh Henry!" She responded with a smile on her face, followed by a quick kiss. As she tucked the small metallic disk into her uniform, not paying much attention. And there it stayed until Melissa got home and inadvertently knocked it to the living room floor as she pulled the uniform out of her bag. ….

Henry put on his best suit and put on his biggest smile for the difficult battle he knew would lie ahead. Diego Huerta, Melissa's father, would be a difficult opponent, he had crossed the border illegally carrying Melissa as a child in his arms, shortly after the death of his wife in Mexico, the trigger for the small family to come to the USA. He faced all kinds of humiliating work and over time managed to establish his own business, a car workshop that became a reference in the entire Latino community in the region, just like Diego himself. Soon he found himself surrounded by options of women who would love to be his new wife, but from what his daughter commented, he never took any of them into the house he shared with his daughter. Melissa was his top priority, all of his focus and dedication on her. He had authorized his daughter to work outside the home only after much insistence. Henry suspected it would take a lot more insistence to get the man to accept that his little girl was dating someone like him, that in her father's eyes he represented the white privilege the man so detested.

Despite all this Henry was confident that he would manage to win the man's trust, the feelings he had for Melissa were true and once her father realized that things should become easier. At least that was what he longed for. With a last breath he rang the doorbell of the Huerta house, willing to do anything to show Diego that he would be the perfect son-in-law given the opportunity.

As soon as the front door opened and Henry found himself in front of Melissa beaming with beauty, he was absolutely sure that any argument, dispute or injury would be worth it to keep her forever. She was stunning wearing a simple floral dress that enhanced all her beauty, from the cheerful face with the luminous smile that would warm the coldest hearts to the long and shiny black hair.

"You're perfect." He said looking dumbfounded at her.

"I think that was the best good night I've ever heard in my life."

"I'm sorry, but I got totally lost when I saw you!"

"So it's time to find your way back, my father is on his way and we need to talk before he arrives." She said opening the way for him to enter the house.

He tried to kiss her as he walked through the door, but she dodged and directed him straight to the couch.

"Please sit down, mi amor. I'm afraid my father will have a harder time accepting our relationship than I thought. He's furious."

"But why?" Henry asked sitting on the couch and staring back at her with a questioning look.

"He expected me to meet someone from our community. Don't get me wrong, my dad loves America and his greatest pride is that we got our citizenship. But we've been through a lot before that, and when it comes to me he's like even more... defensive."

"Then let me prove to him that my intentions are good. I come from a good family, I have a steady job in a prestigious place, not to sound arrogant, but I'm a great catch, he can't possibly refute someone like me."

"Not only is it possible, it's why he was against our relationship. My father is convinced you're going to take advantage of me and dump me like a used object."

"Melissa, never say that again! I would never do that to you… I… I… I love you!"

"Henry!"

"It's true, I've wanted to tell you this for weeks, but I was afraid of scaring you. But now I see that I can't hide it anymore, I love you and I'll do anything for you!"

"Oh Henry!" Melissa said with tears in her eyes as she threw herself on him and kissed him passionately.

And it was precisely in this position that the two were found by her father.

"Hija, ¿qué está pasando aquí?"

"Papá, puedo explicar..."

"No hay nada que explicar, ¡tenía claro que no quería a este tipo cerca de ti!"

"Papá, no es como piensas, Henry me ama y yo lo amo".

"¡Déjate de tonterías! Y tú, maldito sea, sal de aquí antes de que lo mate".

Not fully understanding the altercation, Henry tried to intervene.

"Mister Huerta, please let me explain..."

"Don't speak to me, otherwise I'll kill you." Said the older man being prevented from advancing by his daughter.

"Papá, no, por favor, cálmate, vamos a otra habitación. Henry, please go away, I... I'll try to calm him down."

"Exactly boy, get the hell out of here and don't you dare come back." She added Diego letting himself be carried away by his daughter. Leaving behind a stunned Henry, who, without realizing it during the discussion, placed his hand on a small metallic disk that completely altered his future when he uttered the following words:

"Damn it, I just wanted to be the son-in-law he expected."

When he finished speaking those words, he got the biggest scare of his life. The small disk expanded, enveloping him in a metallic cocoon, without him even having time to think about running away or calling for help. If anyone else had been in that room, they would have seen the front part of the structure liquefy and solidify again, demonstrating on its surface the image of a young man very similar to Henry, to then liquefy and solidify again, demonstrating the image of a completely different man.

Finally, the metallic cocoon retracted back into the small disk that originated it, leaving a man who was certainly not Henry Roberts sitting on the sofa in the Huertas' living room.

This new man was a fine example of what the Latino community and the male gender itself has the best to offer, a handsome square face, with a well-trimmed dark beard accentuating an already marked jawline, almond-shaped brown eyes and stylish hair, all this accompanied by an enviable physique, wide pecs and big arms, wrapped in a blue button-up shirt that didn't do much to hide all that musculature. That man's picture could be placed next to the word sexy in any dictionary.

Unfortunately for those (many) who showed some interest in him, disappointment would be the only answer. That big fish had already been hooked and it was the voice of his fisherwoman that woke him up:

"Rico, can you help me with the table while Papá gets ready for dinner?"

"Of course. I'll be there in a second." Answered the man leaving the small metallic disc on top of the table in the living room. As Henry himself inadvertently wished to be changed without knowing what he was doing, reality readjusted itself around him in a way that his wish was possible. Henry Roberts was now Enrique - Rico - Ramirez, Melissa Huerta's longtime boyfriend, whom he intended to propose to her father that night.

Rico worked as a Physical Education teacher at Saint James Prep School. An active member of the local Latino community and the neighborhood's golden boy, he played baseball in high school and won a college scholarship, though he never made it to the professional level. But he didn't care about that, being back where he belonged and next to the love he had cultivated since adolescence was more than enough for him.

Rico’s relationship with Diego couldn't be better, he was the son that Sr. Huerta never had. So much Diego supported Melissa's boyfriend throughout his life. He hoped for a few years that Rico would take over his business, but when it became clear that the boy had talent, he buried those dreams and supported young Ramirez in his new job, allowing Melissa to work in St. James just knowing that he would be around. The girl had applied for a job as a cleaner there, but with the help of her boyfriend, she ended up with the position of secretary in the sports department. For which her father was extremely grateful, he doubted any spoiled brat would dare with the coach's girlfriend.

Which made that marriage proposal just a formality. But Rico knew how important such formalities were to his future father-in-law. Therefore, before dinner is served, with everyone already seated at the table, he begins his speech.

"Mr. Huerta, you have been like a second father to me my whole life, some of my earliest memories are running through the equipment in your car workshop when I was so little that you could lift me up with only one arm. Because I've known you and Melissa my whole life and because you know me so well and know that I'm the only person who will love your daughter with as much love and care as you do, I humbly ask you to her hand in marriage." Concludes the young man, his voice trembling with anxiety and expectation as he faces the serious face of the father of the woman he loved. Only to see that face break into a bright smile.

"It's about time, boy! I thought you two would never give me grandchildren. You know I always wanted a big family! Of course you have my acceptance and my blessing. And, I ask this even though I know the answer in advance Is this what you want, Mel?" Diego concludes with a voice as shaky as his future son-in-law's, looking adoringly at his daughter. Which in turn opened a smile as bright as his father's.

"Si, papá. It's all I want in the world!"

"So let's toast to the beginning of a new family" Said a proud Diego raising a glass and being followed by his daughter and son-in-law.

.....

The following morning, Diego Huerta watched through the window with a smile on his face at his daughter and son-in-law, whom he loved as if he was his son, thinking that finally his family would grow the way he always wanted.

Possessing an enviable physique and a handsome face, maybe he could finally get back on the market, he thought, with the image of a specific woman coming to mind. As he absently held a small metallic disk in his hand.

....

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, in the same St. James as the Reality Warper's new journey began, another young man glared at his car, unaware that very soon his history would also be permanently altered...

...