#and I'd like to bring it up to where I'm at

[leveragehunters]

CoPilot in MS Word

I opened Word yesterday to discover that it now contains CoPilot. It follows you as you type and if you have a personal Microsoft 365 account, you can't turn it off. You will be given 60 AI credits per month and you can't opt out of it.

The only way to banish it is to revert to an earlier version of Office. There is lot of conflicting information and overly complex guides out there, so I thought I'd share the simplest way I found.

How to revert back to an old version of Office that does not have CoPilot

This is fairly simple, thankfully, presuming everything is in the default locations. If not you'll need to adjust the below for where you have things saved.

Click the Windows Button and S to bring up the search box, then type cmd. It will bring up the command prompt as an option. Run it as an administrator.

Paste this into the box at the cursor: cd "\Program Files\Common Files\microsoft shared\ClickToRun"

Hit Enter

Then paste this into the box at the cursor: officec2rclient.exe /update user updatetoversion=16.0.17726.20160

Hit enter and wait while it downloads and installs.

VERY IMPORTANT. Once it's done, open Word, go to File, Account (bottom left), and you'll see a box on the right that says Microsoft 365 updates. Click the box and change the drop down to Disable Updates.

This will roll you back to build 17726.20160, from July 2024, which does not have CoPilot, and prevent it from being installed.

If you want a different build, you can see them all listed here. You will need to change the 17726.20160 at step 4 to whatever build number you want.

This is not a perfect fix, because while it removes CoPilot, it also stops you receiving security updates and bug fixes.

Switching from Office to LibreOffice

At this point, I'm giving up on Microsoft Office/Word. After trying a few different options, I've switched to LibreOffice.

You can download it here for free: https://www.libreoffice.org/

If you like the look of Word, these tutorials show you how to get that look:

www.howtogeek.com/788591/how-to-make-libreoffice-look-like-microsoft-office/

www.debugpoint.com/libreoffice-like-microsoft-office/

If you've been using Word for awhile, chances are you have a significant custom dictionary. You can add it to LibreOffice following these steps.

First, get your dictionary from Microsoft

Go to Manage your Microsoft 365 account: account.microsoft.com.

One you're logged in, scroll down to Privacy, click it and go to the Privacy dashboard.

Scroll down to Spelling and Text. Click into it and scroll past all the words to download your custom dictionary. It will save it as a CSV file.

Open the file you just downloaded and copy the words.

Open Notepad and paste in the words. Save it as a text file and give it a meaningful name (I went with FromWord).

Next, add it to LibreOffice

Open LibreOffice.

Go to Tools in the menu bar, then Options. It will open a new window.

Find Languages and Locales in the left menu, click it, then click on Writing aids.

You'll see User-defined dictionaries. Click New to the right of the box and give it a meaningful name (mine is FromWord).

Hit Apply, then Okay, then exit LibreOffice.

Open Windows Explorer and go to C:\Users\[YourUserName]\AppData\Roaming\LibreOffice\4\user\wordbook and you will see the new dictionary you created. (If you can't see the AppData folder, you will need to show hidden files by ticking the box in the View menu.)

Open it in Notepad by right clicking and choosing 'open with', then pick Notepad from the options.

Open the text file you created at step 5 in 'get your dictionary from Microsoft', copy the words and paste them into your new custom dictionary UNDER the dotted line.

Save and close.

Reopen LibreOffice. Go to Tools, Options, Languages and Locales, Writing aids and make sure the box next to the new dictionary is ticked.

If you use LIbreOffice on multiple machines, you'll need to do this for each machine.

Please note: this worked for me. If it doesn't work for you, check you've followed each step correctly, and try restarting your computer. If it still doesn't work, I can't provide tech support (sorry).

[creepyscritches]

I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.

Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.

What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is

1) intricately interwoven with the federal government

2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)

3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business

4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)

The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.

Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).

The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.

Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.

I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.

I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.

The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.

[gothamite-rambler]

I'd like to add that this is up there but oh my God the ones where the asshole makes you want to scream "How do you not see it!"

Those include:

The mother who harassed a teen girl at the mall under the assumption she stole her father's card (these two people don't know each other btw). She made a big spectacle and I shit you not added "My son is forbidden from using my card so I clearly know she stole it." The girl had to pay with her money because the cashier admitted if someone is accusing her and it turned out to be true the store could be in trouble (pretty much leaning to the fact this girl had her father's permission) and the girl left crying. Everyone in the store glared at the woman and this psycho's husband even said she was the asshole. She even wrote the post in a "guys tell my husband I'm write" type of fashion.

A girl said she was her sister to get out of a speeding ticket. All the sister did after that was admit that wasn't her. This got OP arrested and charged twice but her and her shitty family proceeded to ostracize the girl and acting like she can drop the charges and she's the bad guy because op was the first to go to college... If she's speeding like a lunatic and has been charged before that's her fault! Even her reason for not being on was spiteful and amounted to "My sister ruined my life!"

A guy cheated on a coding exam and I mean cheated. He paid someone to do the assignment in rust when it was C++ and the partner (a woman) did damn near all the work. Then he said he did the work which got her failing grade and the sexist professor refused to change her grade. Oh and he admitted in the comments unintentionally it wasn't a tutor he got and that even if it was those weren't allowed. Like why are you going to a coding class?!

A man and his hopefully ex girl went to a kpop concert. The boyfriend was a jackass and proceeded to shame her for listening to the bad brought up how she's too old to be a fan and mocked her in front of their friends who were equally disgusted by his reaction. He refused to apologize and she didn't bring him another concert... And he didn't know why.

There was one where a father shamed his daughter because her tampon fell out in the pool. Not only that though he proceeded to lock her in the room on the cruise and take away anything fun. Over an accident and yes he's the "just hold you period blood" guys (I hope it was fake though)

One where a mother punished her step daughter on vacation because the kid and her man child husband were competing and instead of this grown woman telling her husband to stop and teaching her daughter to not do dumb competitions, she punished the daughter. Oh and the replied implied she doesn't even like her daughter and sees her spoiled (she had limited custody btw)

A father basically left his daughter stranded on New Year's Eve because she broke some dumb rule. Like he hung up the phone and went to bed! The mother (he was divorced from her) got the girl and called the dude out and said the daughter would stay with her and this goober has the audacity to say that went against the custody agreement... You abandoned her!

A man found out his girlfriend wrote fanfiction and because of that ridiculed her and dismissed the doctorate she earned to the point his own family were calling him out.

Last one, a guy was in a cooking class and decided to bully and shame a woman in the class because she was a beginner. It was a beginner cooking class btw. The way he talked and acted was so smug to the point that the lady could've been revealed to burn the soup she was making but he was a bigger ass.

Oh and a lot of these where they're the asshole end with some variation of "They have a right to be mad... But I think they overreacted." Oh and double points if after the ruling they delete their whole account, get suspended or banned or double down not being the butthole in the comments.

Verdict: Sometimes it's okay to just admit you're an ass if you can't take the opinion of redditors!

This mom sounds so unpleasant to be around idk why her daughter even invited her in the first place

[bighungrywolf]

Jake walked into the living room of his apartment, a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch a movie with his friends. However, as an act of magic, they had mysteriously disappeared. It didn't make sense, Jake had only been in the kitchen for about 3 minutes making the popcorn, and had his friends had to leave he was sure he would have been told. But then, looking up a little, he saw his roommate, and it dawned on him how big a mistake it had been to leave his two friends alone in the living room, without keeping an eye on his roommate.

"W… where are my friends?" asked Jake shakily, already knowing the answer, but somehow hoping for a miracle whereby his partner Bruce hadn't done his thing again.

"Ooooh, you know damn well where they are" replied Bruce, patting his bulging belly a couple of times. "It's been a while since you brought any friends home, I was beginning to think that for some reason you didn't want them to meet me, like you were ashamed of me, that hurts, eh? Although… Buuuuuuuurp, I guess the fact that the last guy you brought home ended up in my stomach, doesn't help you wanting to introduce me to more of your friends, hahaha. I suppose you had your reasons for not bringing new… snacks home, but in the end it was worth the wait. Your friends turned out delicious, especially the one with glasses, who after devouring your other friend was left quivering and unable to move, just the way I like my prey to stay, ready to become my dessert" for a moment Bruce paused to stretch and yawn, noticing how all that food in his stomach and the beginning of digestion was making him sleepy. "Oh, we should do this more regularly, I'm in bulking season, and I can always use some extra protein to build my muscles, hahaha. I guess now you're going to say you never want to bring anyone home again, right? Well, if I were you I'd think twice, because you don't want to have a starving pred whose only prey at hand is you. Now, if you want to keep me happy, start caressing this stomach, this digestion is not going to happen by itself, and besides, it's awful if you don't say a last goodbye to your friends, hahahaha" said Bruce, looking suggestively at Jake, who knew he had no choice but to obey everything he told him if he didn't want to be next.

[certifiedsexed]

I'm not sure where else to ask this but it seemed like an alright place. I believe something is wrong with me as I don't want to have sex. Or do anything even remotely sexual. I see posts and comments all the time of people talking about people and sometimes characters and how attractive and hot they are, but I just don't get it. I want to fall in love, and date and do all those romantic things. But I do not want to have sex, ever, and I feel like maybe I'm broken? Sex is always talked about around me as something everyone wants and will do one day, but it simply makes me feel sick and grossed out. Even the idea of masturbating grosses me out, it's sexual and I don't seem to like anything sexual at all. Although I live in a very small town, is it different in other places?

I've tried reading and watching, I've even watched stuff with just women in it! I tried masturbating but didn't get very far before feeling nauseous, I simply don't want to do anything sexual. It's very confusing and scary for me, I mentioned it to my mother and she said "You'll want it eventually, you just need to find what you like" but I never have and don't think I ever will. I've explored many different things but I always feel bored and put off at best, disgusted at worse. I don't care if others have sex, I'm not negative like that, I just don't want to ever be involved in it. Do you know what might be wrong with me? I don't want to bring it up to anyone again because they always look at me like something is wrong with me

- Rose

Hi, Rose! This is definitely a fine place to ask. (I love your name, btw.)

Let me start with saying there is absolutely nothing wrong with you for not wanting to have sex or do anything sexual. You don't have to have sex or be sexually attracted to other people. There's a name for that: it's called asexuality and its actually pretty common.

Not everyone has sex or "eventually wants sex". That's a very out-dated myth that has never been true.

I'd recommend looking for groups or even just researching asexuality online, Rose. There are so many other asexual people throughout the world and I think it'd be good for you to read/look into information on other people like you!

You don't have to force yourself to like sexual things. You can't force your sexuality to change. Especially if it's making you feel ill and you don't want to do it, that's not something you should be forcing yourself into just because others have told you that you should. There is no should with your sexuality.

Your mother is actually wrong. Not everyone likes sex! There's literally a sexuality for people who lack or experience varied sexual attraction [which is what you're talking about]: asexuality. There's also a word for the nausea and dislike you're talking about surrounding sexual things: sex repulsion.

You don't have to keep exploring things that make you feel ill. It's okay just to search out the things you actually enjoy or look forward to, like a romantic partner or even just focus less on sexuality itself and enjoy your life without trying to fix yourself.

There's nothing wrong with you, Rose. I'm sorry no one has been kind and taken you seriously but you're not broken or needing to wait for your sexuality to "kick in", your sexuality is fine as is.

I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions, Rose. <33

[azrielgreen]

I'm so fucking sorry and horrified about the state of things in the world IN GENERAL and now sharply in the US. Saying sorry feels so redundant but it's genuine and real, and reflective of my absolute grief at the backwards swing that this represents. It's horrifying to see clearly how many people care so little for women, people of colour, trans/queers, immigrants and the general wellbeing of the world entire. If I can do anything for anyone, I want to do that, so please do come and chat if you'd like to. I sadly cannot make a safe space where we all could live but believe me if I could I WOULD; I'd buy some fucking land and houses and make a little village somewhere safe.

I believe that what we're seeing is misogyny, racism and homophobia made fully manifest by people who have abandoned empathy, intelligence and decency to become a deeply uninformed electorate whose fear has been catered to and hand-fed by unregulated "news stations" where selective fact is accepted as normal and the media dominates. It's a terrifying sight to see the numbers, even though I have no doubt many of them are rigged. I keep thinking about what I can say to offer comfort, to raise hope and reaffirm, as so many are, that things will get better, but it falls so flat whenever I think about my trans/queer/POC/female/immigrant/anyone with a soul friends and how they must feel this morning waking up.

So I think what I can say, and I will, is that more than ever now, stories matter. Queer stories, ugly stories, love stories, angry stories, stories about failure and loss and violation and darkness... they matter more than ever before and the telling of them has never been more crucial because the first thing a dictatorship seeks to do is control the narrative in all ways. So please don't stop writing, don't stop reading, chase the idea, stay true to yourself and surround yourself with whatever brings a little fucking joy, catharsis and safe exploration of the things you need to explore.

Find your tribe, and tell your story.

[murfpersonalblog]

PREACH! As a book reader, I'm 100% Team Lestat Was Forced & Injured. But I've discussed this Sam article before, cuz I have a lot of issues with IWTV's plot holes. My biggest beef with S2 is that AMC didn't film/write 2x7 & especially 2x8 adequately, to properly convey that something was going on. I NEED the Trial revisted from Les' POV, cuz there's way too much inconsistency & contradictions, and not in a good way.

THE TIMELINE

The timeline in S2 is all over the place, and we have no idea when Lestat was contacted by the coven, and where he was staying for however long he was in Paris. Louis & Claudia were there around 1945 - 1949, but Armand knew the day they arrived at the Theatre that they were lying about Lestat/Bruce. So was Lestat contacted immediately? Armand was able to do it all by himself in 1973--why rely on Santiago/Celeste/Estelle to do it in 1949?

I doubt Lestat went to Paris of his own volition (he'd've been too ashamed & guilty to go after them, just like the 6 years he spent in Algiers after 1x5)--so I'm convinced the coven definitely called Les & told him to come to Paris. But that presents a HUGE problem:

Exactly. Cuz HAYL NAW it doesn't take that long for vamps to heal. (This new Mind-Over-Matter-Gift was also Rolin's reason for adding the line about Les "not being in the mood" to burn to death in 2x8. But like I said, I don't believe Les when he says this, cuz it directly contradicts whole plotlines in the books AND show.)

If Les only arrived in 1949, I'd assume Les was already fully healed by then, nearly a decade after Mardi Gras, since Les wasn't set on fire a la the book. Meaning: if Les knew Louis was in danger, and he was back to full health, WHY TF didn't Les stop the coven before the Trial?

If Les arrived in Paris in 1945ish (right after 2x3 when Armand grills Lou about "Bruce"), I can maybe accept that he was still be weak from Mardi Gras (but again: like Sam already said, it was just a slit throat NBD vampires heal from cuts EASY; and he puked up & bled out most of the poisoned blood before Louis threw him on the trunk; and he had plenty of "big f*****g rats, enough blood in them to bring back the dead" to get strong enough to return to town & hunt humans). So by all counts (unless we buy Rolin's psychological damage > Swamp King propaganda), Les should've been fine in Paris--so why cooperate with the stupid rehearsals?

Solution: We NEED a scene where Lestat & Armand fight, a la the book's Tower Scene in TVL, where Armand effs Les up, breaks all his bones, then throws him in the dungeon/wet room/whatever to starve.

It's way more likely that Armand fought & captured & starved Les:

for 4+ years if Les arrived in 1945ish, right after Lou busted Claudia's "Bruce" lie in 2x3

for only 1 year if they woke him in 1949, right before the Trial was prepped in 2x6

THE BRUISES

I've already ranted about my take on Les' injuries, both wrt Les being all bloody in the Ep5 revisit; and his hand/wrist bruises in 2x7.

PSYCHOLOGICAL INJURY

Sorry, AMC, but I've discussed before how IMO this is the weakest & least convincing bit. Sam even said he DISAGREED with Rolin's vision that Les be psychologically rather than physically hurt, and that Sam preferred Swamp King. Cuz this is TELEVISION, not a BOOK--some things you really NEED to SHOW US (and Tell us). Psychological pain preventing his supernatural healing does NOT translate well on screen without explicit explanation that this is something vampires can suddenly do; esp. since NO physical injury should hurt strong AF vampires in the first place--a la 1x5 & 1x6.

THE SHAKING

The Reddit fans clipped the wobbling in question:

But it doesn't prove Les was injured BEFORE joining the Trial--it's actually proof that he was weak AFTER Banishment; as he's now too weak to save Claudia, so he stands there just weak & wobbling.

Cuz where was this shaky & wobbly Les for the rest of the Trial? One thing that irritated me was how much he got in & out of his seat.

He makes grand gesticulations as he talks from the script, "the finest actor to grace our stage." Not ONCE do we see him wobbly & shaking, or any indication that he's low on blood or power--he even teleports all the way up to the stands to ream the homophobic soldier & read his mind & then teleport back to his seat. So it's not as if he's busy conserving energy.

But we DO see the psychological damage Rolin wanted, every time he's sitting down, and he goes OFF script--he's a wreck after he gaslights Lou about Come to Me, and when admits he broke Lou.

And it's just such a shame that Lestat never rubs his wrists, or adjusts the cuffs of his shirt, or rubs his knuckles (one Reddit theory even surmised that Armand might've cut his hands off a la Nicki, which I LOVE). We see him fidget with the wedding ring, and that's it. If he's bruised & in pain, we should've seen way more than some suspect discoloration on his hands; so that way when we got to the Tower Scene in 2x8 and saw the handcuffs we'd be like waaaait....👀

And we should've DEFINITELY seen it during the Rehearsal, AMC.

Like, sure, Lestat was mumbling those lines--he clearly doesn't wanna be there or take part in the Trial. But that's not an indication that anything's psychologically/physically WEAKENING him--esp. since he gets up and walks & talks just fine right after, checking out the mannequins & sassing Armand. His only problem's the logistics of the Trial itself.

If anything, the sheer fact that Lestat had to ask what Armand & the coven would do to force Claudia to stay quiet means that they hadn't used the Mind Gift on him that whole time in rehearsals, to mentally fog/compel him to say his lines--and we definitely don't see it used on him during the Trial, not even when he's going wildly off script--they shut off the projector, but didn't make HIM stfu? 🤨

But the REAL problem is: neither the bruises not the shaking are anywhere to be seen!

So what are we supposed to conclude? That Lestat WAS fine during the whole Rehearsal bit, and it was only AFTER he yelled about Claudia's strength that Armand chained him up or cut off his hands? If so, I'm fine with retaliatory measures!

But it still begs the question why Les didn't do anything BEFORE the Trial. No warning, no nothing. So we'd have to assume that he IS a prisoner of the coven's the whole time--and cuz he's stronger than everyone but Armand, we'd also have to assume that Armand did something to him from the very beginning...which we don't see. Esp. since this is the Rehearsal that's exposing Armand's sins, so it's not like it's necessary to hide that Les was hurt the whole time.

Waiting allllll the way to reveal it in S3 was risky AF, and a horrible idea if it was intentional, cuz it just gives the fans more time to look at Lestat sideways. This whole months-long discourse just proves that AMC did NOT adequately show that Les was under duress. The chances they had to really show & tell us came & went in 2x7 AND 2x8.

TL;DR: I love the Injured Lestat theory, and I fully believe he was hurt, cuz that's what happened in the books--I'll be FURIOUS if AMC doesn't revisit the Trial to fix this. I just hate the way this has all been executed.

Redo the scenes with Lestat's hands to zoom in on them, and emphasize that he was effed up; and show him wobbling & weak & Ming-Fogged BEFORE Banishment.

This show is effing excellent, but it's not perfect, and there are glaring mistakes they need to fix ASAP, if they want us all on the same page that Les really was a victim of Armand's abuse, too.

I was reminded of this interview. I completely forgot Sam said all this.

How does the "Lestat wasn't weakened at the trial and he was happy to be there" crowd feel about this?

[pix-writes]

for requests. . . how about an x reader where reader pegs Ford 👀? Is he open to the idea?

Oh I think we can arrange such a thing! >:) Hope you enjoy!

Ford x F!Reader | In Theory and in Practice

Notes/tags: Ford and reader have some limited past experiences, but tried to keep it a little vague. That said though, I do allude to them to be both bi/had experiences with someone of the same sex as them. Anal smut, some Dom/sub dynamics and switching.

NSFW 18+ below cut, so MDNI!

The subject comes up from you, the conversations you get into around pleasure with Ford often end up in the logical sphere, starting lightly before anything more heated can arise. It was something to enjoy about your partnership, comforting in the pragmatic and somewhat direct, open way in which Ford spoke about such things. It reduced both of your anxieties and any reservations that you had about bringing up anything that you wanted.

Your partner still got flustered, however, and you were a little tentative in how you brought up this next subject.

"I never got to try it in any of my other relationships with men, some seem to think it's not important to involve the prostate in sex."

"The prostate when stimulated gives men pleasure, so I see no reason why it should not be, um, paid attention to. I certainly haven't had any reservations when I have been on my own, in the past."

"And with others?"

Ford did blush a little at this. "In relationships with other men, yes. And with you."

"Yes, but technically it was you who was doing it, Ford." You paused to take a breath before asking your next question. "What if I did?"

Your partner looked stunned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I'd never thought about it before?"

You ask him if he ever heard of pegging, he hadn't and you did your best to lay out what it meant, slowly, despite your eagerness at Ford's receptiveness, so far.

"But how would you...?" Was one of his questions and you couldn't help but giggle. You knew he didn't like to be on the backfoot or feel that you were laughing at his expense, but how could you not help but be amused by his perplexed expression, his innocence when it came to the gaps in his knowledge?

"Oh Ford, have I not told you yet about the wonders of silicone?!"

Ford didn't take long to mull over the decision on whether he would like to explore it, in fact, you knew him to be as eager as you were, despite never knowing about pegging before bringing it up, though none of this should have surprised you, you thought, looking back on it. Ford wasn't a stereotypical man and did not have many qualms when it came to experiencing new things. All the more reason you were excited! Though you knew that he was going to take his time with researching it, but you could wait.

As the days passed he added his small questions about what you had planned, one here, one there. He would hum and nod and maybe ask for more clarification or an adjustment. In fact, he inisted that you practice putting the strap on you ordered, once it came.

"Can I see it?"

"I think the straps are too tight, how do I-?" You were glancing around for the instructions, to see Ford already had them to hand.

"Here, like this." He gently tugs on the threads and it loosens, relieving the indents that were already appearing over your skin.

Self consciousness ate at you, unable to hide that you felt so clueless you let out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry! This is... it just feels silly!"

"It is a little bizarre!" Ford joins in with your laughter. "But preparation makes all the difference, my dear."

Once it came to the moment, however, Ford had forgotten what a disparity there was between theory and practice! It had been so long since he had ever been in this position (metaphorically, rather than physically in the same position... but, you get the idea!) and he was starting to remember how vulnerable it can feel...

You've been working him open steadily, using plenty of lube that you kept beside you, Ford encouraging you and helping direct your movements to what he found most pleasurable, voice strained already.

He could feel that pressure and heat from how you slide in, one of your hands coming to soothingly rub at his back, reminding him to relax into it, to adjust. When he gives you encouragement to move, he can feel your form pressing into his. Your hold on him was so gentle, the tenderness made him feel like he was adrift.

He cried out as you set a firmer pace and you stilled for a moment.

"Ford?"

He groaned. "Keep... keep going, baby."

Ford reaches round to find your hand and you let him intertwine your fingers together, placing your hand further forward so the hold would be comfortable.

"You're doing so well. You know that?" You placed kisses over his shoulder before resuming your steady pace. " So good for me, Ford."

The toy that you had gotten was one that had an end that sat just inside your entrance, the pressure of it working you up. Arousal pooling in your belly as you thrust your hips into him.

He looked so beautiful underneath you, his back arched. God, he was a sight to behold. And so you told him, words spoken as you caught your breath. Knowing the words were affecting him from experience if not from the way his breathing changed, those little noises he made that you so desperately wanted to hear, the ones that went straight to your core.

You were taking your time though and Ford began to rock back into your touch, impatient.

Ford whined your name, turning his head, pupils blown wide. "Don't hold back."

It was somewhat rare that he ever got into an impatient mood, the man was unflappable most of the time. A wicked smile started to spread across your face as you tapped at his side, getting to move upwards, into more of a sitting position before grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling him back into your chest, an arm coming to rest across his broad chest as he squirmed.

"What was that, hm?"

"Ah, please! Please, I want you to touch me, please."

"So polite." You said teasingly.

Adjusting your grip on his hair your pace became firmer, hand roaming down his chest to touch his achingly hard cock.

"That's it." Ford's moans were rising into a delicious background orchestra and you prided yourself on the knowledge that you had worked him up so much.

"W-wait! I want to see you when I- want to touch you, please?" His voice wavered, unsure of his own wants when he was so close to the edge.

"This is about you, Ford." You considered for a moment. "But you can turn around, if you wish."

It was a more awkward shuffle compared to the last, but the break in the tension didn't last long; the heat rising to your face as you saw how wrecked Ford looked, hair stuck up at different angles. Legs rising to wrap around you, the muscles there flexing against your hips. You wondered what you must've looked like to him in such a position, when the roles were reversed. Was this why he liked it?

Ford was practically melting into the mattress by the time your hands were on him again. That first rate brain of his switching off thoughts and transferring to focus on pleasure. He pulled you in so that he could kiss you, in between your praises and moans.

"So good for me, darling."

"Such a good boy."

"Fuck, cum for me!"

Eyes focused on your angelic face above him, he came. His release coating his stomach, and your hand, still firm on his cock as he rode his orgasm out with a shuddering moan.

Pulling out, you collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, letting Ford take over. First wiping you both down, then releasing you from the strap, soon replacing the end of the toy with his fingers, his mouth grazing your breast hungrily as he laid beside you.

He cursed under his breath. "Oh, sweetheart, you're soaked."

Hot kisses trailed across your skin. "You don't have to. T-this, mmn, was about you."

He tutted, a glint entering his eyes. "But I thought I was your good boy. Don't you want me to make you cum? You've gotten so wet for me."

You whimpered, answering with a nod as you carded hand through his hair, gently, this time.

[storiesfromafan]

Moments #1 - Mattheo x Reader

A/N: thought I'd change it up, and post another short one-shot. Poor Matty is being deprived, but I'm struggling with inspo for him. So if anyone has any requests for Mattheo, my box is open haha.

Prompt: “When I picture you with a new lover I get angry, and then sad, then kinda horny”

It was a late Friday night. You and some of your Slytherin housemates had snuck out, and were currently lounging around the Astronomy Tower. Of course there was alcohol and weed, a specialty of Theodore, Lorenzo and – your boyfriend – Mattheo. It also mellowed everyone out.

You and Mattheo were cuddled up by a wall. Your body leaning into him, as one of his arms was around your shoulders. You rested your head in the crook of his neck. The effects of the weed finally hitting you. You were relaxed and just vibing. Mattheo was finishing off another can of beer. Before he placed a tender kiss to your head.

You smiled at his affectionate action. “Thank you" you said softly.

Mattheo chuckled. “Why are you thanking me, love?”

“You kissed my head, I was being polite" you replied, like it was common knowledge.

Mattheo softly laughed, holding you tightly. “You’re the first polite Slytherin I've ever met...”

You snorted when you laughed. “I'm the only polite Slytherin you've met".

“Hmmm, that's true" he said in amusement.

You both laughed at that. And falling into talking about random, pointless things. The weed finally hitting Mattheo, yet mixed with the alcohol. The conversation was light and airy. A perfect moment between you both. After sometime the conversation shifted to your relationship, it being all innocent.

Until you asked; “what do you picture when, if I end up with someone else?”

Mattheo moved to look at you, his eyebrow raised and a confused look on his face. “Should I be worried?”

You giggled. “No! It's just a silly question Matty...what's your answer?”

He sighed, mulling it over before giving his reply. As he had to be careful with his choice of words. “When I picture you with a new lover I get angry, and then sad, then kinda horny...”

You sat up and gave him a shocked look, before lightly slapping his chest. “I wanted a serious answer Matty".

He sat too. “I was serious, love".

It fell silent after that, for you weren't sure what to say. This was a whole other side of Mattheo you hadn't seen before. Your boyfriend found the thought of you and someone else hot. You didn't know if you should be upset, or find it appealing. Not that you liked the idea of some other girl with Mattheo, the Slytherin in you would want their blood, for taking what is yours.

“You alright?” Mattheo asked, bringing you from your thoughts.

You smiled sheepishly. “Y-yeah...but I can't say it would be the same for me".

“Oh? Why's that?” He asked, interested in your answer.

You smiled shyly. “Because you're mine. And if you left me for another girl, I'd go all Slytherin and I'd their want blood..."

Mattheo blinked, before a proud smile crossed his lips. “Of course, love" – he placed a kiss to your forehead – “I wouldn't have it any other way".

Pulling you to him, Mattheo leant back against the wall with you in his arms. It was where you both spent the night, snuggled up together and sharing kisses. You might be polite and sweet, but anyone touches your Mattheo, they will have to deal with the consequences.

[hannahssimblr]

Beginning // Prev // Next

Transcript

Jude: Wow, nice place. What exactly does Leon do, again?

Jonas: He's a photographer sometimes. Other times... his father is an important business man with a lot of money.

Jude: Ah.

Elias: Oh look at you! Look at you! You both look so handsome.

Jude: Thanks. I kind of feel like I'm back in my school uniform.

Elias: you're the birthday boy tonight! Come over, I'll make you a drink. I'm doing cocktails.

...

Elias: Leon! It's Jude's birthday!

Leon. Does he want a cake or something?

Jonas: Oh, if there is cake I will have some, please.

Leon: [scoffs] No, Jonas. I didn't buy a cake for him. He should have known to bring his own if he wanted on.

Jude: Okay? Man, I just came in here for a drink.

Leon. Well maybe you can make your own drink instead of making Elias do it.

Elias: Oh, shut up, old man. I want to do it. Where is my shaker?

...

Dalia: Jude! Happy birthday! Ignore Leon, as usual. If he doesn't act like an asshole he'll explode.

Jude: Great dress.

Dalia: Thank you. Jonas, what do you think?

Jonas: Yes, it is very nice. The colour is quite good.

Dalia: I agree! It looks good on me. And what do you think of my hair?

Jonas: Yes, it is... um... straight.

...

Astrid: So, are you impressed by the apartment after all?

Jude: Pretty small and pokey. You think?

Astrid: I see you found a suit. It looks fine.

Jude: Fine? You know it's my birthday. I think you could drum up more enthusiasm than that.

Astrid: Is it? I completely forgot.

Jude: I don't think you did.

Astrid: You're right. I was playing games. I didn't bring a gift for you. Is that what you were expecting?

Jude: I'd never expect that.

Astrid: Maybe I'll think of something at the last minute.

Jude: But maybe you won't.

Astrid: Exactly, maybe I won't.

Jude: You look nice.

Astrid: Yes.

Jude [laughs] Yes? That's your reply?

Astrid: Yes, I look good. What reply did you want?

Jude: I'm not sure.

Astrid: You don't like that I know it.

Jude: No, I do.

Astrid: Many men don't like it. I think confidence scares them.

Jude: Well, you don't scare me.

Astrid: Interesting.

[fleshwerks]

America is the hegemon of the West. What America does will embolden the rest. You can argue that 'maybe you all should ignore America and get its shit together', but 'maybe' isn't going to help us right now, in this moment. Right now, think less about 'should've, could've, would've', and think about now. This is the burden of being the hegemon: for all your privileges, some sacrifices and wisdom have to be performed.

I'd like to bring up a clumsy analogy I wrote about a while back:

You are on an island. It's on fire. There's flooded, mouldy island right next to the burning island. You have chosen to die in the fire or drown in the ocean, because 'but the other island is mouldy and flooded and grosss'. And the fire will spread. This fire will be carried over to the other island, and it'll burn, too, because if you didn't actively stoke it, you failed to try and put it out. This is not addressed to those who voted blue. This is for those who didn't vote at all, voted for the 3rd party to retain their own moral high ground over the HERE and the NOW, at the expense of everybody else. And it's for those who voted for moving over to the moulding and flooded island, but complained every step of the way to the point where your complaining convinced some people to stay behind and die in the fire, or even spread it.

And now the fire will spread anyway. The flooded island will go up in flames too, and the fucking ocean surrounding you will boil in no time.

THERE IS NO MORAL PURITY ACHIEVABLE IN POLITICS, LET ALONE IN POLITICS AS BINARY AS THE AMERICAN PARTY SYSTEM. The world isn't made by making the most moral choice. The world keeps existing because people keep choosing the lesser of two evils, the one that is even ever so slightly open to become a bit less evil. This election doesn't just determine the fate of America and its people. It determines the fate of its less wealthy, populous allies who haven't had the blessing of existing on a separate continent, oceans away from those who would like to see your home ground to dust. You want to enjoy the privileges of being America in the world geopolitics? Yes? Then you have to understand that your decision (or lack thereof) will affect all of your allies.

My only hope is that people who saw the US as an ally have a nasty wake-up call and choose to emerge as a major world power of their own. They were right. We should never have relied on the US. Though knowing the US, it did its damndest to make sure that its power was unrivaled, and the rest of us remain their vassals.

And I worry for my friendly folk over there. Not even remotely condescendingly. I'm dead worried for them, and what they're about to have to endure, and I'm so damned sorry. You tried, and it wasn't enough. But damn, you tried, and that's the only ray of light in this. I remember being terrified all the way over in fucking Estonia when Trump won in 2016. It is so much worse now. No one can claim ignorance anymore.

happy election day to all the people that decided that virtue signaling is more important to them then the rights of their friends, their families, queer people, disabled people, BIPOC, women, climate change as well as their own rights.

thank you so much for voting for trump by not voting or voting third party! i hope you got everything you wanted out of this.

[xanderjkz]

Knox Overstreet- Fixing the problem of a kind boy

I like fucking love the concept of Knox's character and the message he portrays but holy shit they really fucked up when it came to the execution. Both in the movie AND book (ESPECIALLY there). This fandom takes its time to reconstruct his character to be likeable. But how would this actually play out in a better-constructed storyline for this dude with girl problems?

Well, that's the answer I would like to answer today

Knox in the official dead poets media

Like every poet in the movie Spotlight, Knox comes from a family that's enforcing the path of a lawyer. His father is one, which is how his storyline even starts. He is invited to the Danbury's because his dad helped the only responsible and well-mannered dude in the house. And in that same scene, they literally tell us that people expect him to be a lawyer. So there's this kind of pressure.

But not really because we never get to see that side of Knox in the movies where he clearly states that he doesn't like the path people chose for him. All he has is girls problems.

Which is sad considering that he could be so much more

But then we'd have to extend the movie by about 1 hour and that would make it unenjoyable because this movie is perfect because of the pacing they chose. It's fast and yet slow and kinda counts down to Neil's suicide in a way that gets stuck. Because he is one of the main characters and most scenes should be with him. Not with Knox considering if his life expectancy is okay.

So is there any extra scenes in the book?

...yeah no

"But how do we solve this issue with knox's awful storyline?"

Rewrite the book and hope for the best.

Since I'm an author myself I know that writing often gets complicated when your creative streak is gone but since I'm an author I'd solve it this way:

Keep the Chris storyline

Let that boy be problematic, let him make mistakes but not once that deeply traumatises someone like SEXUALLY ASSULTING someone. Knox is the message bringer of the bad side of carpe Diem. Sometimes seizing the day will make things worse because you didn't think it through. That's a great message to bring across, I mean how many 16-year-olds make mistakes that we thought were okay? A lot, and he is the one who made the mistake in the story.

"So how would you change his mistake?"

The storyline reinvented

He meets Chris like usual

Look he didn't fuck up here in the slightest. I too would be stuttering if I met a beautiful girl. And him meeting her through the Danbury clearly shows the problem he has to date Chris. It's classic anyway

Cut the bike scene and use his sister instead

From what I gathered his sister goes to the same school as Chris (can be mistaken but for this story she does! ) so he uses her to kinda pry into Chris's life and find things out. It is problematic if he literally implies stalking her but c'mon, at least someone in the Overstreet family has common sense and only observes in the distance...right? Besides who doesn't use their siblings for their advantages? Plus it brings depth to that mean. Seeing how he treats his sister could indicate his behaviour with people extremely close to him.

Let him attempt the party but be extremely obnoxious

That's what he's best at

His nickname is literally knoxious. But what the hell do I mean by being obnoxious? Let that boy not leave Chris's side. Why? Because that sets up his mistake. Being attached to someone's hip can be extremely uncomfortable and with Chet's provoke able (?) ass this can go wrong fast. (Also we can't forget that Chris is the one being played around like an object in this and this should be his biggest mistake as we do not treat anyone like that, especially women!) But what would be the breaking point for CHRIS and Chet and the thing where he decides that "carpe diem" is good to use (even tho it's not)?

HE DANCES WITH CHRIS

Okay, instead of him being an ass and kissing Chris, he's an ass and dances with her. He was under the influence when he made both decisions which isn't an excuse but something that pushed him towards it. Because Knox in his most sober self wouldn't even talk properly to her.

So, some lame-ass song from the 50s is playing and he grabs her hand. Maybe she danced with someone else and he stole her. Considering that the tension between Chris and Knox is already uncomfortable, this would bring it to the maximum. Chris (as the beautiful woman she is) would try to use this moment to finally talk about his behavior so he lets her go. And the moment he finally talks chet comes in.

This small synopsis is weak but let's be honest, no one would read a whole ass script abt this.

Anyway

Chet comes in, the situation becomes way out of control and the only person getting extremely hurt is Chris. As she was toyed around by Knox and Chet. So she leaves the party prematurely (as she should, take care of yourselves) and Knox returns to Welton with the same bloody nose as in the movie

He goes directly to her house

Him doing so is a direct response to his failure. Between the party and them talking he needs to reflect on his failures and feel genuine guilt. It sucks that he can only do so once he gets punched but at least he has the mind to realise that.

But Chris isn't that easy to talk to. Obviously, this whole thing made her feel weird and sad so she avoided both of them. When he goes up to her house and gets rejected? He talks with Keating.

Mentor Keating

Not only would this solidify his last scene in the movie more but it also gives them a connection more than Keating humiliating him. Okay, but can we fit this into the movie? Not the conversation but he could easily fit it into the scene where he returns to Welton after talking to her.

"What would Keating tell him?"

The same thing he told Neil. Honesty.

Fate decides itself in the decisions you make and Knox knows that lies won't wrap her around his fingers. So maybe honesty carries them to a state where they can be friends.

So his masterplan gets made and it's the most trope-st shit you can think of.

Throwing a rock in the night at her sweet sweet window

Why did I think of this? Well, do you like the scenery of how he originally apologised and made everybody look at her?

At least it's at night so fewer people look and it would show us the skills he earned from sneaking off bc of the poet's meetings. Thus showing the audience more connection to the group. Plus at night people are mostly at their most vulnerable time and it would get Chris to talk.

But what would they talk about?

Considering that he finally saw the wrong parts of his obsession with her, he would give her the space to express her discomfort to its fullest after he of course apologises. But I think Chris wouldn't even express herself to the fullest because she has sympathy for him. She understands that loving someone can make you sick and twisted when you're a teenager but she is still her flesh and mind who clearly didn't want it to cause her relationship to break.

She might not express the worst anger that comes with something like this but she still expressed her sorrow in this mess. And Knox listens and sees the wrong in his actions. He doesn't need to justify himself because no justification could make this play in his favour. And when all is said and done, she forgives him for being so damn obnoxious.

But she doesn't like him in the way Knox wishes her to feel. And knox needs to learn to accept it. Like we all do

The story progresses without knox getting what he wants

Through this whole story he went through, we as viewers get the message that even if you apologise, it's up to the victim of your actions to give you what you want. And throughout the film, I never even got the notion that Chris has an interest in Knox. Hell, they don't even talk that much to build a conclusion on their goddamn relationship before he kissed her. He sets the message of a "Carpe Diem" gone wrong. After that, he is a reminder of us humans and our way of going through those problems you cause.

There are probably better ways of doing his arc, heck give him a different one. I mean he has potential. Maybe he's better off once the group splits or maybe he isn't.

But the way he is in the movie is a horrible portrayal of romance. I get it, the script is from the 80s but c'mon you're allowed to admit that it's bad.

Well, there's nothing we can really do, the movie in itself is an art and should be viewed as it. It fits into the zeitgeist of past generations and our present ones. I love the movie but if I had to change one storyline it would always be Knox oversteet's

Btw can be talk about how stupid his fucking name is? Who names their child Knox? With the last name OVERSTREET

[rcmclachlan]

Hi, I really really like the fic where Tommy springs a pregnancy kink on Buck mid-fuck and they go completely filthily insane about it. It's not on your AO3 though, would you consider putting it up? I'd love to add it to my bookmarks and rereading it whenever I wanna go a little insane too

Also the one where Tommy is a match for Buck's insanity and he cannot talk about the aliens that he definitely encountered, that needs to be bookmarked also

It's funny you bring up the pregnancy kink post, because I'm actively turning it into a real fic that's fit for AO3. It's really unpolished in its current tumblr form, but not for long! Watch this space.

As for the other one (which is one of my personal faves), I'm not sure there's enough there to turn into an actual fic, but you never know.

🩷

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 18)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

"Hey," Kevin waves when Derrick opens the front door.

"Hey, glad you could make it," my deskmate says. "Where's Brittney?"

"Surprise!" Brittney shouts, popping out of Kevin's shirt pocket. She blows a party horn and throws a handful of confetti into the air.

"Sorry," Kevin says. "She insisted on making an entrance."

Derrick laughs. "That's Brittney for you! I wouldn't have her any other way!"

Derrick stands to the side of the door so Kevin and Brittney can enter the house. Kevin, I notice, has changed into a more casual outfit—jeans and a brown oversized t-shirt. Brittney, on the other hand, is still sporting her school uniform.

"Here," Brittney says, removing her necktie and shoving it into the pocket of the blazer she's holding out along with her bookbag. "Can you hang these up for me, babe?"

Without saying a word, Kevin pinches the green blazer and the bookbag between his fingertips and hangs them beside mine on the coat rack. As I watch him set them in place with one swift motion, I can't help but wonder if he's gotten used to handling human items. Derrick was so surprised at the size of my blazer when he held it, but Kevin seems unphased in comparison.

"Oh, yeah," Kevin says, turning to Derrick. "You said to bring a board game, so we brought Aventerra. There weren't a ton of options at my place."

"That works! Anything different from the usual is great!" Derrick says, taking the box in his hands. "We can only play Deduce and Roam Runner so many times."

Kevin nods. "Also, this is for you," he says, holding up a thin rectangular object. It's wrapped in some kind of shiny paper that's decorated with multicolored stars.

"And this, too!" Brittney exclaims, holding out a human-sized gift wrapped in what looks to be the same paper.

Derrick's eyes widen. "You guys didn't have to get me anything!" He says, holding up his hands.

"Go ahead, take them!" Brittney says. "What are friends for, anyway?"

Derrick laughs, taking the items. "Okay, okay, only if you insist."

I try not to look up at Derrick when he approaches the table to set down the Aventerra box and put the gifts with the others, but something in me gives in and I find myself staring higher and higher until my eyes finally meet his. My insides churn when he flashes a smile at me from above. I turn my eyes to the table's surface in an instant, but the image of him looming over me remains burned into my mind and causes my head to start spinning.

"Kaylin!" Brittney hollers, running from where Kevin set her down on the table and attacking me with a tight hug. "You came!"

"Can't...! Breathe...!" I manage through what little breath has yet to be squeezed out of my lungs by her embrace.

"Oh, sorry!" Brittney says, releasing me. "I'm just super glad you're here, since I wasn't sure if you were really coming! I figured it would be hard for you to show up to a party at a place like this because of your—"

Derrick clears his throat. "Hey, how about we get things started? Do you guys want to play Aventerra?"

Brittney's eyes light up as she smiles. "Yes! I'd love to!"

I hesitate, looking back at Mrs. Drake. She's wiping off the counter with the rag she used to dry dishes, but her eyes are focused on Brittney and I. I spin back around, and my eyes lock onto the table's surface. I try to concentrate on steadying my breathing, but all that manages to escape my lungs are quick, shuddery breaths to go with my trembling. I grab hold of one of my hands and squeeze it tight, trying my hardest to focus on the pressure instead of my rapid heartbeat.

"Kaylin?" Derrick asks.

"Y-yes?" I manage to answer while slowly craning my neck back to look him in the eyes.

"Would you like to play too?"

"Uh, maybe," I say. "But... don't you want to wait for more people to get here first?"

The room grows quiet, and I look around as I wait for a response. Brittney looks to Derrick with sadness in her eyes. Kevin glances away, a hand on his chin. I don't dare look at Mrs. Drake a second time. I take a step back and reluctantly peek up at my deskmate, who seems to be searching for something to say. He smiles.

"Since this is a last-minute sort of thing, it's only going to be the four of us. There aren't a lot of people who would be willing to show up to a party held at the last minute on a Forsday, anyway," Derrick chuckles.

"O-oh," I say, forcing a smile and a laugh.

"Anyway," Derrick says, opening the big, navy blue box labeled Aventerra, "let's begin, shall we?"

"Um," I pipe up, "would this game happen to have any heavy pieces?"

"It's actually really easy for humans to play!" Brittney exclaims, taking me by the hand and pulling me to the center of the game board Derrick just laid down. "It's even got one of these popping things, so we don't have to pick up the dice!"

Brittney stomps on a pedal with her foot, causing a pair of dice contained within a large plastic dome to tumble around with a loud pop. Taken aback by the unexpected noise, I flinch, only to gaze at the device before me in wonder.

"Is it really that easy?" I ask, looking to Brittney as if requesting permission to try rolling the dice myself. When she nods, I give the plastic pedal a gentle tap, and a loud pop fills my ears once again as the dice bounce around in the dome.

"Wow," I whisper, positive this is the first time I've laid eyes on a game like this. "I never thought a perthean board game would be this accessible to humans."

Brittney picks up a red disk the size of a bicycle tire with the words '100 soldiers' written on it. "All we really need to pick up are these tokens and some cards. It's really easy!"

"What do you say, Kaylin?" Derrick asks, crouching down to be eye level with Brittney and I. "Do you want to play?"

I glance over at Brittney, who, with a big smile, nods her head up and down vigorously. Kevin, almost predictably, has already pulled out his phone and begun to stare at it with an expression devoid of any life. Then my gaze rests on Derrick. My insides flip as I examine the great face before me, and my heart begins to pound when our eyes meet. I quickly turn away, placing a hand on a cheek that I'm sure has reddened by now as I squirm where I stand on the table. I want to look my deskmate in the eyes, but for whatever reason, I just can't handle the weight of his stare!

"Y-yes," I finally manage. "I'll play."

Mrs. Drake passes by the table and ruffles her son's hair. "You kids have fun. Your dad and I will be in the other room if you need anything."

"Right. Thanks, Mom." Derrick says, fixing his hair as she walks away.

The room grows quiet once more as Mrs. Drake closes a door somewhere down the hall. Derrick lets out a sigh and turns back to me.

"So, you probably want to know how to play, huh?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After a few minutes of explaining, confusion, and more explaining, I figured I knew enough about the game to give it a try. Derrick, being the birthday boy, went first when Brittney convinced him to, even though he initially wanted to decide who went first by dice roll as the rules directed. Since play was supposed to go clockwise, Kevin should have been next, but Brittney was too eager to roll the dice and ended up going before him. Kevin went after her, and I went last.

The game itself is simple— roll the dice, send out soldiers, and claim land. If the land you end up on is already claimed, fight for it by dice roll. I'm sure I'm forgetting something from Derrick and Brittney's explanation. But I figure if I try to memorize the rules in their entirety, we'll never get to play.

"You'd think all this land we're claiming would already have some owners, wouldn't you?" Brittney says, gazing at the soldier tokens Kevin just set down on his newly claimed territory.

"What?" Kevin says, his eyes narrowing in confusion at his girlfriend's statement. "The back of the box says it's a new world no one has discovered before. Why would there be people there?"

"Well, that's true," Brittney says, "but don't explorers sometimes say they've discovered new land when it's already being occupied?"

"But that would be lying," Derrick chuckles. "They wouldn't have discovered it at all!"

"Yeah," Kevin adds on, "what kind of psychopath would make a claim like that?"

"Ha! Yeah, just... a lot of Earth's explorers were like that, I guess," Brittney laughs nervously before turning to me. "Okay, your turn! Think you've got it figured out?"

"I think so. I'll send out 300 soldiers," I say, stacking three tokens and stepping on the dice pedal. After the two cubes settle down, I read the numbers on the top. "Three and one. Four?!"

My eagerness to play turns to panic as I realize that moving four spaces from start would land me on the space Kevin just claimed on his turn. I don't want to fight Kevin! I begin to shake as I stare at the dice with no clue how to proceed.

"Kaylin?" Brittney says, tapping me on the shoulder. "You good?"

"G-good? Y-yeah!" I utter through my trembling. "Just making sure I read that right."

I turn and begin walking towards the start space, the wobbling in my legs nearly causing me to trip with each step. What am I going to do? When I arrive, I lift my plastic red pawn and count the spaces in front of me over and over again to ensure I'm not making some kind of mistake.

Kevin taps the fourth space on the board in front of me, where he's stacked four of his blue soldier tokens. I gulp as a shudder runs down my spine. If I don't start moving, he's going to realize something's wrong with me for sure! I begin inching forward, my heart pounding in my chest with each step I take toward Kevin's claimed territory. After too short of a distance for my liking, I reach my destination and set my pawn down beside the stack of blue tokens.

"Well, well, well," Kevin grumbles, his low voice reverberating through the table and shaking me to my core.

I don't dare look up. I don't dare make contact with those narrowed brown eyes of his. Not when they remind me so much of...

SLAM!

I struggle to maintain my balance as various game pieces fly through the air and come crashing down all around me. My eyes snap to the right, widening as they land on the cause of this sudden disruption. Before me is a fist. Kevin's fist. I spin around, hoping to locate Brittney or Derrick, but they're nowhere to be found. Trembling, I begin to tiptoe away from the clenched hand.

"Thought you could escape?" Kevin asks, his booming voice reverberating through my body as he pinches the back of my shirt and lifts me high above the table.

"H-hey!" I protest, kicking my legs in a futile attempt to get away.

"Resisting? What a pity," Kevin sighs before a devilish grin spreads across his face. "Most tinies give up and let me win."

My heartbeat rings in my ears as one massive digit pins me between another, forcing the breath from my lungs and leaving me without any air. One by one, other fingers begin to curl around my quaking frame, trapping me completely. No, no! Anything but this!

"If you can't play nicely," he growls, lifting my head to meet those narrowed brown eyes of his as he tightens his grip, "then don't play at all."

All at once I'm thrown down onto the game board, where I land on my side with a loud crack. I don't have time to process the burning pain in my hip when, to my horror, the very same fist that threatened to squeeze the life out of me comes hurling down toward me from above.

SLAM!

"Hello?! Kaylin?!" Brittney says, shaking me by the shoulders.

"Y-yes?!" I answer, clueless to what's going on around me.

"Finally!" she huffs, releasing me. "We were getting worried! You've gotta stop zoning out like that, it freaks people out!"

"S-sorry," I manage, wiping away a stray tear with one of my trembling hands. "What's happening, exactly?"

"You were just about to beg for mercy," Kevin says with a wink.

My lip quivers as I take a step back, unable to tear my eyes away from the massive perthean looming above me.

Brittney lays a hand on my shoulder. "He's joking."

"300 soldiers, right? This stack here?" Kevin asks, pointing to one of my stacks of red soldier tokens by the dice.

"Y-yeah," I nod.

"Well then," he says, picking up the stack and setting it beside the stack that was already on his claimed space, "better hope for a high roll. As defender, I'll roll first."

I flinch when Kevin reaches around Brittney and I to tap the dice pedal. After a loud pop, the cubes in the dome settle down again, and we all lean in to see the result.

Kevin leans back in his chair upon seeing the two and the one he rolled.

"Three times four hundred... That's twelve hundred points," he sighs.

"Mhm," I hum as I rub one of my trembling arms.

"Come on, Kaylin!" Brittney cheers. "You can definitely beat him! That roll was pathetic! You've got this!"

"P-pathetic?" Kevin mumbles. "I thought you were on my side."

"Technically, nobody's really supposed to be on anybody's side," Derrick laughs.

Brittney crosses her arms and turns away from the boys, her bottom lip protruding in a pout. "I was just trying to encourage her, that's all!"

A soft chuckle escapes me as I step on the dice pedal. I bite the inside of my cheek and squeeze my eyes shut as the cubes dance around in their container. When they come to a stop, I reluctantly open one eye and see one of the dice landed on one. My heart sinks. I almost want to keep my eyes shut and pretend I'm not even playing this game.

"Wow! You did it!" Brittney exclaims, shaking one of my shoulders.

"I-I did?" I ask, opening both of my eyes to see the other die, which managed to land on five.

"Eighteen hundred points," Kevin says. "Good game."

As I allow my shoulders to relax, a smile creeps onto my face. I wasn't expecting to win at all! And I wasn't sure if I could expect Kevin to be a good sport about it, either.

Kevin swaps his four blue tokens for red ones and places them beside me.

"So," he says, grinning, "what would you like to do with your new land?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The game went on for an hour or so, and things were really close between Brittney and Derrick during the last quarter. It was anyone's guess who the winner would be, but ultimately, Brittney came out on top.

After thinking through other games we could play, we decided to switch from board games to video games when Derrick suggested we play Super Crushers Ultra on his FlexPad. I wasn't sure at first, since I've never been a big fan of violent games. But then I learned I could play as Mr. Buck from Flower Forest, or even that lovable orange blob, Borbo! Since a kid-friendly character like Borbo was involved, I became convinced that the game couldn't possibly be as violent as I had initially worried it would be.

Derrick happened to have two sets of human-sized FlexPad controllers, which took me by surprise. I wonder how many humans he plays video games with.

"Gah!" Brittney says when Borbo is cornered by Luis, the blue electrician.

Derrick, not wasting the opportunity, proceeds to mercilessly mash buttons on his controller until poor Borbo is flung off screen by a powerful bolt of lightning coming from Luis' wrench.

"Not fair!" Brittney exclaims. "What did I ever do to you?!"

"You did take his land," Kevin says, moving the angry black cat, Eclipse, off a ledge and toward Luis. "Don't worry, I'll get him for you."

"I thought we weren't taking sides!" Derrick says as he continues to mash buttons.

I move Mr. Buck from ledge to ledge above the other two fighters, still not quite sure how to control him. Once Eclipse is thrown out of the arena, Luis jumps up in front of Mr. Buck! My heart beats faster and faster as I struggle to remember the right buttons to press.

"W-wait!" I plead. "Can't we talk about this?"

To my surprise, Luis stops.

"Oh, come on!" Kevin shouts. "You didn't even show any mercy to your own best friend!"

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I look down at my controller. I didn't mean to make anyone angry.

"Hold on, I just want to see what she has to say," Derrick says.

My heart skips a beat. I didn't think my plea would get me this far. I turn back from my spot on the sofa's armrest to look up at Derrick, whose warm smile almost seems unfitting for a guy who just beat two of his closest friends in a video game without holding back.

"Well?" Derrick says.

"U-um," I utter, desperately trying to think of any string of words that could get me out of this situation.

Derrick tilts his head, waiting patiently for my response.

"Y-you..." I start, putting on the best impression of Mr. Buck I can muster. "You wouldn't hit a fellow with glasses, now would you?"

My deskmate is silent at first, but after a moment, bursts out laughing.

My heart sinks in my chest as my face turns a bright shade of red. What was I thinking? Why would I say something so stupid?

"That was really good!" Derrick laughs, wiping a stray tear from his eye.

I look up to my deskmate in surprise. "R-really?"

"Yeah! And you do have a point. I guess I wouldn't hit a guy with glasses."

"S-so you'll reconsider?!" I blurt out, hanging on to the last bit of hope I have left.

Derrick finally stops laughing and smiles warmly at me. "No, I don't think I will."

Before I even have the chance to turn back around, the sound of Mr. Buck being electrocuted fills my ears.

"WINNER!" declares the game's announcer as the blue electrician dances and the other characters clap.

"Sorry, Kaylin." Derrick chuckles.

My attention immediately shifts when I hear a door open down the hall, followed by some shuffling in the kitchen. My curiosity turns to trembling when I realize that Mrs. Drake couldn't possibly be alone in there. Who else could be with her? I look around the room, but the others don't seem to take notice of the noise as they go through the play-by-play of the game's last round.

All at once, the lights in the living room turn off. I let out a gasp as endless possibilities run through my mind. Could the power have gone out? Not if the TV is still on. Could something have short-circuited? Could someone have turned the lights off? What sort of nefarious reason could someone have to do that?

I turn to see a faint orange glow coming from the other side of the room, accompanied by two shadowy figures. One of them has to be Mrs. Drake, but I can't help but tremble as I glance at the two! And who's the tall, foreboding figure beside her?!

As the two figures approach Derrick, one of them begins to sing:

Happiest birthday, child of ours

Happiest birthday, light of our lives

Live years of joy and happiness

And know that we hold you so dear

I look to Derrick, whose face is illuminated by the glow of what I've come to realize is a candle sitting atop a birthday cake. One of his brows twitches as he forces a smile.

"Well? Aren't you going to make a wish?" asks his mom, cake in hand.

Derrick sighs. Then, closing his eyes, he blows out the candle.

"Yay!" Brittney says. She claps, but nobody else joins in.

"Mom," Derrick starts, once again forcing a smile. "I did tell you I didn't want to have cake tonight, right?"

"I thought you were only talking about dinner," Mrs. Drake says, her smile fading. "Besides, it's tradition to have cake on birthdays!"

"I know, but..." Derrick starts, flashing a worried glance in my direction before turning back to his mom. "Can't we save it for later?"

"Why don't we ask your friends if they're comfortable with— I mean, if they'd like to have some before we put it away?" Mrs. Drake suggests.

"I'll have some cake!" Brittney hollers, waving her arms in the air.

Kevin sighs. "You and that sweet tooth. You are way too excited for this."

Mrs. Drake laughs. "Of course, Brittney. You'll get some cake. How about you, Kevin?"

"Sure," Kevin shrugs.

"And how about you?" Mrs. Drake says, turning to me. "Would you like some cake?"

No, no! I want to shout. But instead, I bite my tongue and fold my hands in my lap, pressure building within me from the weight of everyone's stares. How am I supposed to get out of this?!

"Y-yes, please," I finally manage.

What have I done?! I could have at least said 'no thank you!'

"Then that settles it!" Mrs. Drake says, spinning on her heel and heading to the dining room.

Once she's gone, Derrick and I share a look. His brows are turned upward, and his blue eyes almost seem to be asking me if I really want to go through with this.

A quivering sigh escapes me as I bury my head in my knees. I want to go home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I poke at the chocolate cake in front of me with the plastic fork in my trembling hand. I don't dare look up from the portable balcony Brittney and I are on, lest I be faced with the reality that I'm actually sharing dessert with pertheans. At least I'm not on the table's surface like I feared I would be, but I can't decide if being closer to these pertheans' faces as they eat their cake is any better.

"This cake is super good!" Brittney says, shoveling a big bite of what I'm certain is only frosting into her mouth. "My compliments to the chef!"

"Oh, it's not homemade," Mrs. Drake laughs, "it's from Stanley's. It was the only chocolate one they had, too."

"Store-bought, huh? I never would have known!" Brittney says as she examines the hunk of dessert on her fork. "Is chocolate your favorite, Derrick?"

Derrick, poking at his slice of cake with a fork, doesn't answer.

"Uh, Derrick?" Brittney tries again.

"Huh? What was the question?" Derrick looks up from his plate to the balcony Brittney and I are on.

"Is chocolate your favorite type of cake?" she asks.

"I don't know," he answers, returning his gaze to the plate in front of him. "I like a lot of different flavors. It might be John's favorite, though."

"Oh, if only the two of you were able to celebrate your birthday together," Mrs. Drake sighs, glancing at the banner that bears both of the brothers' names. "It's a shame we can't even wish John a happy birthday over the phone since he's away from Perthea."

"You know, you could have been on Erimathea too right now if you had studied harder," a low voice rumbles.

The room quickly quiets down to a deafening silence as Mr. Drake's statement hangs in the air. Dropping my fork, I reluctantly look up from the cake in front of me. I've avoided looking at Derrick's dad since we sat down, and now is the first time I'm getting a good look at him. His brown hair is a bit darker than his son's, and while Derrick's blue eyes are warm and welcoming, his dad's blue eyes are cold and narrow. I can't help but shiver in my seat as I gaze at him from the balcony.

"Well, studying abroad was more of John's thing," Derrick says. "I'm happy where I am."

"Hm, but you could have at least graduated early like your brother if you hadn't blown that equivalency exam," his dad continues. "Each subject on that darned test was 400 koroz."

"Jason," Mrs. Drake whispers, leaning in closer to her husband. "Maybe now isn't the best time for this, hm?"

Mr. Drake sighs before taking another bite of his cake. "It's just that I want both of our sons to succeed, Dianne. And Derrick still has a lot of catching up to do if he plans on getting into a decent university like his brother."

"You say that like I'm behind," Derrick pipes up from across the table. "I'm still getting good grades, and I'm on track to graduate."

"Hmph," Mr. Drake huffs. "Dropping out of a school like Pacific still won't look good on your applications, in my opinion."

"Jason, please," Mrs. Drake pleads.

My insides begin to twist and churn as my heartbeat quickens. I don't like where this is going.

"But I'm back to finish what I started. Isn't that enough?" Derrick says, narrowing his eyes at his dad.

Mr. Drake doesn't miss a beat, and narrows his eyes right back. "If you ask me, you should have stayed put at Pacific instead of running away from your problems. Instead, you let a little gossip run you out of a good school."

"Maybe we should talk about something more positive," Mrs. Drake laughs nervously. "You know, the yellow flowers on this cake are part of the reason—"

"I didn't run away, Dad," Derrick says, raising his voice. "I moved on, just like anyone else would have done."

Something breaks in my heart when I hear the shift in Derrick's tone, and I grab onto the edge of the balcony's table in an attempt to ground myself as the world begins to spin around me.

"Hey," Brittney whispers, tapping on my shoulder. "Kaylin? Are you okay?"

I open my mouth to answer, but the words don't come. I look down at my trembling hands as my breathing quickens and tears begin to blur my vision. This isn't good. This isn't good at all.

Mr. Drake raises his volume to match his son's. "You still called it quits when it got hard. You threw away everything you worked so hard for! Do you know how much it even cost to put you two in that school?"

"Please, you two! Settle down!" Mrs. Drake begs.

"And your brother!" Mr. Drake continues. "Did he let a little rumor decide his future for him?"

"It wasn't a little rumor, and he wasn't even involved!" Derrick retorts.

"But look where he is now! If you would have stopped fooling around and focused on what really mattered, you could have been lightyears ahead of where you are now!" Mr. Drake sighs, cutting into his cake with his fork. "If you put in the work like John did, you could have—"

Derrick jumps up from his seat and pounds the table. "Look! I'm not John, okay?! I'm sorry I'm not your favorite son!"

Mr. Drake rises. His tall, tall frame towers above the table and everyone around it, including Derrick. He stares his son down, his narrowed eyes seething with rage.

The edges of my vision begin to fade to black as my core tightens and my trembling becomes completely uncontrollable. I'm going to die here!

Mr. Drake stares down his son for only a moment before abruptly picking up his plate and leaving the table. He sets his plate in the sink and retreats down the hall, the loud slam of a door acting as his final addition to the conversation.

Derrick sighs, tearing his gaze away from the hall. That's when he finally sees me. His eyes widen, and he lets out a faint gasp.

"Kaylin?" Brittney says, placing a hand on my back. "Are you—"

Immediately, I turn away from Derrick and into Brittney's shoulder. Sob after gut-wrenching sob escapes me as tears refuse to stop falling from my eyes.

"Shh, it's okay," Brittney whispers, wrapping her arms around me. "It's over now."

"I-I—" I stutter as I try not to choke on my own sobs. "I want to go home."

[litnerdwrites]

This can't be seen as anything but racist to me.

We know three things about Illyrians based on what the IC have said in the books:

They are violent Misogynists, to the point where they believe mutilating women is supposed to be completely normal.

They are a warrior race who value status & bloodlines more than anything, happily throwing away and abusing those bastards and those considered weak.

They're super stubborn about the aforementioned points.

Nothing about the 'rich culture' that Illyria supposedly has. How does that make Rhys comparing Nesta to an Illyrian, especially as a woman, anything but insulting. It very much gives the same vibe as somebody insulting you, and then laughing it off because it's 'just a joke' even if it hurts you, putting you in an awkward position where your feelings are undermined but it's hard to speak up without seeming like you're making a mountain out of a molehill.

As things stand, all signs point to Rhys & Co. Not liking Illyrians. I'd argue that they outright hate Illyrians. So how could any comparison made between Nesta and an Illyrian be anything but an insult?

It's also unbelievably racist. The IC happily make comments about how terrible Illyria is and how it's cold and miserable. Mor says it right as they're walking through Illyria, so clearly they don't try to hide their distaste. The lack of Illyrian women in the library is also concerning, given that they're well aware of the treatment of women there, and in the HC. Why is that? Rhys is The Most Powerful High Lord, he could bring women to the library no problem, using his authority to overrule the Illyrians and save them, but doesn't. Why? Is maintaining an army worth the suffering of thousands? What about the orphans and bastards who are left with nothing? Or the children beaten regularly? Could he not do anything about that? Build more shelters, help provide more food, and other goods through trade?

Speaking of oppressed women, when Rhys compared Nesta to Illyrians, was he comparing to the oppressed women who are mutilated and abused regularly? Or the abusers who regularly mutilate and abuse women? Cause I have a feeling I know which and yet people still argue that Nesta 'should be grateful to him' and 'has said worse'.

Also, just generally, comparing a person you don't like or who you feel has wronged you, to an entire race of people you speak only negatively about, is racist. Especially when the original person isn't part of that race, like who tf do you think you are?

Even if Rhys did, hypothetically, mean it as a compliment, that doesn't make it any less racist or messed up. It means he has to reevaluate his view on the Illyrians, and learn more about them before ever speaking about/on behalf of them again.

Finally, let's talk about the 'she has no excuse' line.

First off, Nesta is having a very valid and common trauma response. One that I'm sure would be common in Illyria given how the Illyrians are a warrior race, and war is, well, traumatising. Veterans with ptsd, children being turned into soldiers, or beaten for having the audacity to be born with a uterus, families grieving the loss of mothers, fathers, daughters, wives, husbands, cousins, sons, sisters, brothers, friends, aunts, etc. Illyria, based on what we know, is probably ripe with traumatised people, and alcoholism, gambling and sex are some of the most common coping mechanisms for trauma. So what do you mean no excuse? Not even just Illyrian, but many people struggle with.

But, at the end of the day, a person's skin color has no bearing on what's an 'acceptable' form of coping. Suffering is suffering. Trauma is trauma. As things stood, the entirety of the IC were so unbelievably lucky that Nesta hadn't committed suicide, even by that point. Thinking of the potential suicides in both the HC and Illyria is actually terrifying, given the amount of trauma that the people from either location have to endure.

It makes you wonder what Mr. mental-health-matters-and-your-trauma-is-valid-Rhysand does to help the Illyrians to cope with their trauma? What resources do they have? Is there a library for them? What about a counselor, like the priestesses have? What about in the HC? What about the toxic masculinity that pressures boys into being strong soldiers, and abuse women? Being taught that they're there for domestic labour and child bearing, and nothing more?

Do you know what it feels like to be suffering in your own head, to the point you're contemplating an early grave, feeling alone, and unworthy of even the slightest affection or help, and everyone in your life just confirms your worst fears? Do you know how it feels to want to scream at the top of your lungs that everything from waking up to drinking water feels like the most difficult, painful thing you've ever done? Do you know how it feels when everyone tells you how much they love you, and want you to be happy, only to hate yourself even more when you can barely muster a smile for their sake, and all you can do in their presence is disassociate and try not to fall apart, as you hear your father's murder over and over again in your head?

Do you know what it feels like to be reminded time and time again how great you have it, and to be thankful, and that you should be happy for your life, and for the sake of others, and that it'll be better once you conform, and push everything down and let the world see you as a happy smiley person even if it kills you? Or what about when you're ridiculed, and insulted and spoken down to for the way you cope, the only thing keeping you alive? To never be able to let anyone see that part of you that's dying, because they care more about coping 'the right way' and appearances than you're wellbeing, is the most suffocating, lonely experience you could imagine.

If Nesta had conformed and interacted with the IC the way they wanted her to, I wholeheartedly believe she'd've been dead within a week. This is what Nesta's enduring, and the so called feminist, pro mental health, anti misogynist 'king' is saying things like that?

Seriously, it's such a small line, but it points to so many issues that people just refuse to acknowledge. It just comes off as Rhys being a misogynist who victim blames anyone who doesn't keep up appearances with him and his band of clowns and psychos.

thinking about the time rhysand said “nesta is… she’s illyrian. I mean that as a compliment, but she’s an illyrian at heart. so there is no excuse for her behavior.”

and that behavior is... playing cards at seedy taverns while spending the money rhysand owes her? if she's an illyrian at heart then maybe he'd prefer she go on a rampage and slaughter an entire village? rhys trying to pass this off as a compliment is also ridiculous because everything sjm has written about illyrians paints them as savage, violent monsters with bigoted/misogynistic beliefs. he is so foul for this

[skeletboi]

Part 11 of the Intridimensional AU!

New to this? Start here!

Previous /// Next

_________________________________________

Fiddleford opened the door to see Ford half-dragging Stan towards the house.

“Lemme help ya, Ford, those stairs are gonna be a doozy.” He said, making his way towards them.

“We got it. I feel like I would crush you if I fell over.” Stan responded before Ford could say anything.

“Hey now, I'm a lot stronger than I look.” Fiddleford said with a bright smile.

“It's true.” Ford added. “He's like an ant, I've seen him carry things ten times his size without even breaking a sweat.”

“Smart, strong, and a southern accent? Where did you find him? College? Maybe I should go to college.” Stan said, half to himself.

Ford let up his grip on Stan, nearly knocking him over.

“Right, right! No hitting on the assistant.” Stan mumbled as he attempted to catch his balance.

Fiddleford chuckled as helped them up the stairs.

“Ya never told me he was a charmer, Ford.” He said as they made it to the door.

“That's because he isn't.” Ford deadpanned.

Stan opened his mouth to respond, but forgot what he was going to say as they entered the house.

“Damn. This is exactly what I should have expected.” He said as the other two helped him sit on a nearby chair.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Ford said, at the same time Fiddleford said “That's ‘zactly what I said when I came here!”

Ford and Fiddleford looked at eachother and Stan laughed.

“Anyways, lemme get a look at yer injuries. Ford told me he tried ta patch ya up, but I've seen his work, and I ain't impressed.” Fiddleford said, grabbing a nearby first aid kit and putting on a pair of rubber gloves.

“Hey!” Ford said, defensively.

“Ya know what I mean, Stanford. Go fetch me some of that magic goop yer always usin’.”

Ford frowned, but left to go find said ‘magic goop’.

“Damn, he never would of listened to me if I said that. He really does like you.” Stan mumbled.

Fiddleford ignored that, but Stan didn't miss the way his cheeks reddened.

“I'd really rather you'd go to a hospital, friend. This really ain't lookin’ good.” He said instead.

“Yeah, yeah. Hospital-schmospital. What are we going to tell them? We were just fucking around and I lost my leg and got a bullet in the arm?”

“Bullet in yer arm? I thought it was jus’ the leg.” Fiddleford said with a frown as he looked up at Stan.

“It was just the leg when Ford found me, but then we got shot at near the border of Arizona.” Stan explained.

“You-” Fiddleford started, then sighed. “Does catastrophe run in the family?”

“Yes.” Ford and Stan said at the same time as Ford reentered the room.

Fiddleford huffed out a laugh.

“Well, least I know what to expect, then.”

“That makes one of us.” Ford mumbled handing a small unmarked container to Fiddleford.

Fiddleford put it to the side and started to unwrap the gauze on Stan's leg.

“Take yer jacket off, I gotta check on that bullet wound, too.” He said.

Stan did as he was told and watched with mild interest as Fiddleford finished removing the gauze.

“Darnit, Stanford. All them PhDs and not a single one of ‘em in medicine.” He mumbled as he opened the unmarked container.

“I had better things to do.” Ford responded.

“Doncha always.” Fiddleford mumbled, and Stan didn't miss the fondness in his tone.

Fiddleford took some of the substance from the container and made to put it on the wound when Stan stopped him.

“Wait, wait! What the hell is that shit?” He asked, put off by the substance's eerie glow.

“That's quite interesting, actually!” Ford said, his face lighting up. “It's a healing potion I received from a forest nymph after they found me passed out in the woods a few years ago!”

Stan frowned, but nodded to Fiddleford, letting him know he could apply it. Fiddleford did so, and Stan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“What the fuck, Ford?! That shit is amazing! Why didn’t you bring it to New Mexico?!” Stan said, looking from his leg to Ford.

“Oh, right. I wasn't sure if I should bring it on the plane, it emits a small amount of radiation that has the potential to mess with certain radio signals.” Ford explained.

Stan glared at him.

“It's perfectly safe! I've used it dozens of times!”

“That doesn't make it safe, Stanford!” Stan responded, nonplussed.

“That's what I'm always sayin’, but stubbornness also runs in the family, I reckon.” Fiddleford said.

“Fiddleford refuses to use it, but I find it quite helpful.” Ford said.

“Whatever.” Stan said with a sigh. “It's probably just as bad as any other substance I've used, so it doesn't really matter. At least it works.”

“That's the spirit! Now lemme get a look at yer arm.” Fiddleford said, moving to Stan's side to start unwrapping the gauze there.

“That one isn't too bad, probably doesn't need radioactive magic goop.” Stan said.

“Ain't too bad?! I reckon the bullet is still in yer arm, Stanley!” Fiddleford said, moving Stan's arm this way and that as he looked for an exit wound.

“Probably, but I doubt those assholes are smart enough to poison their bullets, so it's fine. I’ve had a bullet in my thigh for a few years now and I barely notice it anymore.” Stan said.

“Jesus fuck, Stanley.” Ford mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Language, Stanford.” Fiddleford responded.

“Language?! Stan hasn't said a single sentence without a swear word since we arrived!” Ford said, sounding a bit like a petulant child.

“He's missin’ a leg, Stanford. That’s a purdy good excuse.” Fiddleford replied.

Ford frowned, but didn't bother arguing.

“Lemme go grab the smaller magnet gun prototype, I betcha I can remove it that way.” Fiddleford said, standing up and removing his rubber gloves.

“That sounds fucking awful.” Stan replied.

“It's either the magnet gun or tweezer and a scalpel. Your choice.” Ford said.

“Right, nerd magic it is.” Stan sighed.

Fiddleford huffed out a laugh and left to grab the magnet gun.

“So he's cute.” Stan said when Fiddleford's footsteps faded.

“Fuck you.” Ford said, burying his face in his hands as Stan laughed.

“Ya know, married or not, I'm pretty damn sure he has a crush on you, too.” Stan said as his laughter died down.

“That doesn't matter, Stanley. I told you he would be moving back to Palo Alto soon enough.” Ford said, dropping his hands from his face with a sigh.

“All grown up and becoming a homewrecker, who coulda guessed.” Stan mused.

“I swear to god, Stanley…” Ford started, but stopped when he heard Fiddleford's footsteps down the hall.

Stan smiled innocently as Fiddleford rounded the corner.

“I was gone for one whole minute and y'all already fightin’?” Fiddleford asked.

“Not fighting, really, just disagreeing.” Ford said, sounding tired.

“Well, close ‘nough. Now looky here, I got the magnet gun, but I also brought my blueprints for a robit leg. I'll hafta take some measurements, but I think I was purdy darn close already.” Fiddleford said, setting the magnet gun down on a nearby shelf and handing the blueprints over to Stan.

Stan unfolded the paper and grinned.

“Peg leg! Hell yeah! How did you know?!” He asked, squinting at the design.

“Yer brother told me you'd prefer that over my usual designs.” Fiddleford said, putting on a new pair of gloves.

Stan glanced over at Ford, who was staring at the far wall and pretending not to listen. He shook his head and smiled as a warmth bloomed in his chest, but turned his attention back to Fiddleford when he heard a low hum.

“This is gonna hurt, but it'll only take ‘bout a second.” Fiddleford said, gently taking Stan's arm and holding up the magnet gun.

Stan nodded, setting down the blueprints and clenching his fist. He motioned for Fiddleford to continue.

Fiddleford looked a bit like he was about to pass out, but his hands were steady as he lined the magnet gun up with the bullet wound.

There was a click, a whirring sound, and a shot of white-hot pain, then it was over.

“That wasn't so bad.” Stan said, but the pain in his voice said otherwise.

“Sorry, Stanley. I jus’ gotta clean it up a bit then we can use more that magic goop.” Fiddleford said.

He sounded so genuinely apologetic that Stan was sure he could hear a layer of ice crack around his heart.

“No worries, Fidds! You can always kiss it to make it better!” He replied with a laugh.

“Stanley!” Ford said, his voice cracking.

Fiddleford just laughed it off and started the process of cleaning around the wound.

Stan used his free hand to pick up the blueprints again, looking over them carefully as Fiddleford worked. He glanced up at Ford when he felt eyes on him and motioned for Ford to join him when he saw the curious look on his face. Ford obliged and stepped behind Stan to look over his shoulder at the blueprints.

“Impressive as always, Fiddleford.” Ford said, and Stan didn't miss the way Fiddleford's hands stilled for a moment at the compliment.

“Thank ya, Ford. I'll prolly have a prototype by tomorra that we can try out.” Fiddleford replied with a nervous smile.

It took all of Stan’s willpower not to roll his eyes.

Running from gangsters might actually be less painful than dealing with the unresolved tension between these nerds. He thought idly, but he couldn't deny that he felt more at home here than he had in years.

___________________________________________

Oh, these boys. I love them.

That's all I got.

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