#and even then it comes w Those Clauses behind it :(

[miyaagis]

okay i always like it when reader is the one getting hurt but..

after a hot, steamy make out session in kuroo's office(between kuroo and yuko), reader came with a plastic of foods for kuroo's team dinner, when kuroo and yuko got out of his office, kuroo completely neglected yuko as he sticks to his wife side, reminding her she's nothing but a side cunt

+ warnings. infidelity, fluff. nothing freaky, just kuroo being happy as a clam w his wife <3

tnmici m.list

"baby!"

he's quickly making his way towards you, a huge grin on his lips that has you giggling softly. your husband seems to have heard the faint commotion happening in the meeting room, head peeking out from his own office, before realizing you are the cause of said commotion.

"tetsu-" his lips are pressed against yours before you can say your greetings, his hands tugging you closer by your waist as his mouth draws the softest sighs out of your lips before letting go of you, your eyes glazed with love,“hi..."

"hi, my pretty girl. you’re really here, right? i’m not imagining things?” his face remains close to yours, maintaining your focus on him and his whispered words as he gently rubs your noses together. 

it’s silly how easy he makes your face heat up, and even when you try not to be so blatant in your display of affection in front of everyone, it seems as if that isn’t his main concern right now. behind him, barely a few meters back, yuko discreetly exits his office, blending behind other coworkers as she wonders what’s taking him so long. her lips still faintly swollen after being on his lap for ten minutes, making out as if they didn’t have deadlines to meet.

“kuroo-san… we should get back to the documents,” she starts, taking a step towards him, “i found a clause that won’t benefit–”

“later.”

his tone is curt and emotionless, his eyes taking up your features as he guides you further into the meeting room. yuko halts her steps, the single word causing a blow to her pride and ego as he dismisses her so carelessly, as if he hadn't been murmuring praises against her lips minutes ago.

you barely catch a glance at the woman that seems to be working with your husband on an important project, making you frown as you realize you’re probably imposing and taking up time of his already busy schedule. 

"tetsu, i’m so sorry for disturbing the office. i figured that, with the end of the year approaching and things getting hectic, a decent meal would cheer up the spirits."

"don’t. you're an angel." he cups your face in his hands and the look in his eyes eases your worries, "wish I could have you here next to me every day." 

his gaze brims with genuine love, the smitten look melting the hearts of those who witness it. with a soft peck on the lips, he asks you to hold on, hurrying to his office and walking past yuko without even sparing her a glance. he comes back with his belongings and a huge grin. 

“what are you–”

“let’s get outta here,” he grabs your hand and starts dragging you to the elevator, one of his hands on your waist as he pulls you towards his chest and the other making a sign to one of his coworkers, "i’m leaving! gotta keep my mrs. happy!"

[strixcattus]

Conlang Year Days 31–33

At long last and after an uphill battle, I have a finalized list of ten sound changes (several of which are actually groups of similar processes affecting different but similar sounds) in order. There's a chance—though not a good one—that I might prod at a couple changes (specifically those in the glide-deleting vein) in the coming days, but what I have right now is solid enough.

Ten sounds like a lot given I've never tried anything similar to this before, but nearly all the sound changes I implemented fall under one of three different multi-step processes, so I'm really just doing four things that all need to be a little spread out. The processes in question:

Stop reduction. For the purposes of creating a few diphthongs, voiceless stops sometimes reduce, very slowly, to nothing at all.

All glides must die. We hardly knew ye. (You may recall that the original phonology only had one glide, [j]. We'll get to that.)

The Consonant Conveyor Belt. An only slightly shaky series of sounds shifting to fill gaps left by those behind them. I must have had something against [g] at the start of the year that I don't have now, and I wanted it back.

Bonus—clean up the ugly sounds. I find [pu] to be an unattractive syllable. That's not the only thing this one gets rid of, but it's most of it.

Complete and lengthy detail under the cut.

Day 31

All three days kind of bled into one another—especially the first two—but day 31 was the one where we were supposed to have a full list of sound changes, if not necessarily an ordered one. I ended up making a few edits yesterday and today, so here's the most current list of sound changes:

Voiceless stops [p] [t] and [k] reduce to [f] [s] and [x] respectively in contexts [a_i], [u_i] and [o_i].

[p] becomes [w] before [u], and before [o] in unstressed syllables.

[d] becomes [g] before [a] and [o], and before [e] in unstressed syllables.

[owo] and [owu] become [ou]. [uwo] and [uwu] become [uo]. [awo] becomes [ao]. [eje] becomes [ei].

[j] vanishes in contexts [a_i], [e_i], and [o_i], as well as [i_o], [i_e], and [i_a]

[j] becomes [ʑ] before high vowels and after [i].

[l] fortifies to [d] before [a] and [o].

[f] and [x] reduce to [h] everywhere they occur.

Glides fortify to [l] anywhere they persist.

[h] is deleted universally where possible. Where not possible, it changes to [ɕ].

If you're looking closely, you might notice a few things:

Why [ɕ] and [ʑ] rather than [ʃ] and [ʒ]? Couple reasons. First, unashamedly, they're fun to say, even if they're not quite sounds I'm all too familiar with in the wild (and I can't distinguish between the two when listening too well...). They're also not sounds I've used in a conlang before—Yvelse has [ ʃ], and I think a couple projects I've left by the wayside did as well. The... interesting conlang idea I mentioned a while back has all four of these, but that's just a concept right now, so it doesn't count. Second, it just made a bit more sense for the sound created in step 10 to be palatal, and I was not about to have two similar sounds in two different places of articulation, one voiceless and one voiced, when I could just put them together. Also, this way the final form of the language uses all the same places of articulation as the original did!

Some of these steps look like they're going to end up tripping over themselves, Strix—unless you want triphthongs or something. Yes. Yes they do (look like that) and yes they do (interfere with themselves). We'll get to that. Incidentally, this is the same force behind that last little bit in step 10.

What do you mean by "where not possible?" Diphthongs are allowed—the set of diphthongs created by these changes is the same as the set of allowable diphthongs—but more than two vowels in a row is forbidden. That little clause is there to stop that from happening if something weird happens between steps 1 and 10.

Hey, you never said anything about where stress goes, but now you're referencing it! I did not! In the proto-forms, primary stress falls as close to the antepenultimate syllable as it can, and secondary stresses radiate out from there, every other syllable. When a word has two syllables, stress lands on the first syllable. I'm ignoring secondary stress when I talk about stress-based sound changes.

Day 32

This was the day where we were supposed to start testing out the changes—though I did a lot of that the day before. I've got a color-coded table where I test a few of the proto-forms I already created—but first, the rules, and some of these are pretty important. For one thing, we can say goodbye to IPA now—at least for the finalized forms of words. Any rules that were only added today (as in, during the "break things" phase) will be in bold.

[j] is represented by y, [ʑ] by j, and [ɕ] by c

Stress-based changes look only to primary stress

Diphthongs shift stress to themselves as soon as they occur (not as though that changes anything, but as a note)

Vowels within diphthongs do not count as single vowels for deletion purposes. They may be considered as single vowels for fortification purposes (the only other context-dependent change that occurs after formation of diphthongs).

If a single step affects multiple parts of a word, work from beginning to end.

And the final phonology:

Day 33

Today's goal was to make a few new forms to "test" sound changes. Of course, "test" as used here means "do your best to break." As such, you'll notice that most of the new forms have three syllables to fit in as many bumps as possible, and the final versions are very diphthong-heavy—every diphthong that wasn't represented in the original chart gets to show up here.

They also tend to hit up several different sound changes. *mijena is maybe the only root that's still pretty similar at the end to the beginning, as opposed to the initial table, where several roots go through only one sound change or none at all.

In my doc, the roots still use IPA as I've been doing for the previous days. Here, I've switched fully to the same romanization system as in the table above, for ease of reading.

*miyena: Companion animal ⇒ miena *yupuki: Friend ⇒ juoci (This is where that [ɕ] clause comes from.) *tiyola: Bone ⇒ tioda *sodeye: Limbless creature (why not?) ⇒ sogei *kiyapo: Fire ⇒ kijao (Here's where that weirdly specific diphthong rule comes from) *zapiyo: Time machine (obviously this is a basic root) ⇒ zacio *lokiye: Tooth ⇒ docie *dayi: Grain (mass) ⇒ gai *yupo: Sun ⇒ juo *yayiyo : Moon ⇒ laijo (And this is why you have to work from start to finish in step 5. This one was fun.) *nopula: Sky ⇒ nouda *siyapo: Hair or analogue (as it's possible for an intelligent species to have feathers or somesuch instead of fur) ⇒ sialo

[phantasthesecond]

chapter five. after semi unannounced hiatus bc school is a pain. hi.

general summary :

elesa and ingo’s perspective is given a small amount of shine. a plan is made.

word count :

1,719.

whenever elesa received a text from one of the twins pertaining to the ‘sibling clause’, it was always a matter of;

“ alright, what did one of you do this time? ”

sibling clause. a silly rule the three of them had made up when they were kids. if ingo and emmet couldn’t decide on something, or one of them was doing something they potentially shouldn’t, elesa got to decide who was right.

surprisingly, this worked well for elementary school kids.

well enough that elesa still received the occasional “sibling clause.” message while the three of them were grown adults.

train boy number one || 9:40pm

Elesa.

It is that inevitable time.

elesa || 9:43pm

???

you alright over there ingo?

train boy number one || 9:45pm

No.

‘Sibling clause.’

elesa || 9:46pm

..alright, what did em do now.

train boy number one || 9:48pm

Something odd and dangerous happened this morning, and he refuses to elaborate on what it is.

It destroyed my home office as well as causing something amiss at the station, and he is even reporting whatever it is to Interpol.

He’s heading to Gear Station again with the officers- something to do with the security cams.

I worry for his safety.

elesa || 9:51pm

alright, so he’s at the station still?

i’m coming over. we can ask him what happened when he gets back.

the drive to the twin’s place was relatively short. while elesa did not consider herself in her best attire at the moment, for a model- it was late, and she was honestly rather tired- frankly, tired enough to hardly care, and she knew the treyne brothers would be the last people in all of unova to judge.

knocking on the door intently and taking a step back to wait, eventually there was the shuffling and clicking of it being unlocked, as ingo opened the door, a placid frown resting on his face, chandelure floating behind him with a wispy chime. not in disappointment of her arrival, no- she could tell by the way his brows were tightly knitted together in worry that he was simply still concerned in relation to what he had told her on the phone.

elesa eventually found herself tilting her head as she watched the other’s face, the two both heading inside as ingo shut the door.

“ never took you as one to wear those sort of costume contacts, ingo. is that something new you’re doing for the station? ”

( ingo seemed to just blink in confusion- once, twice, before eventually realizing what she meant with a silent “oh.” )

“ ah- that is another thing. ”

“ and that other thing is..? ”

“ for one, that is not a contact. i do not know how to explain it, but it’s not. ”

( as… utterly baffling as the explanation was, every bit and piece of ingo’s demeanor indicated it was the truth. his subdued frown, the way his arms rested behind his back in his standard work posture- while he was not as adamant about it as his brother, ingo was not exactly fond of lies either. ) the ghost-fire type, practically sensing the man’s mild distress, began to bump and prod at his shoulder with a low croon, as if demanding to be held as a distraction.

“ well did you see a doctor or go to the hospital for something like that? dragons, ingo- if emmet was home and you just told him that, he’d be the one calling me over! ”

( seeing as the other seemed almost sheepish about his unspoken answer, averting his silvery gaze with his arms cradled around chandelure’s glass body, ) elesa pinched the bridge of her nose with an exasperated, drawn out sigh.

“ so you haven’t told anyone other than your brother and me, nor have you seen a professional about it? alright, first thing tomorrow you’re getting dragged to the doctor’s. ”

“ it hasn’t caused me any difficulties, elesa, i am still feeling quite fine- ”

“ no buts. i will call you out of work myself if i need to. ”

( as ingo sighed in defeat, taking out his xtrans to place the call he would be out tomorrow, ) elesa crossed her arms in triumph, an almost smug look on her face. watching as the other soon retreated to the couch, sitting criss-cross while still comfortably holding chandelure in his arms, the dark haired woman’s face soon softened as she joined him, leaning over the sofa and resting her elbows on the backing.

“ for someone who’s ‘feeling quite fine,’ you look tired, iggs. either that, or chandelure’s burning off whatever energy you have right now. ”

( seeing as ingo quite literally had his head held right over the pokemon’s spectral flames; gentle shades of blue and purple, flickering across his face in warm ribbons of sorts, both could be true in tandem. seeing as his response was a quiet hum, rather than something vocal, ) the brief noise only echoed by chandelure’s ghostly chimes- elesa’s response was nothing short of an amused snort. raising a hand to flick a stray piece of silver hair on the man’s head, she eventually slumped down ever so slightly, her head resting on the couch backing as well.

“ alright. don’t fall asleep while we’re waiting for emmet, at least. ”

for a few minutes, they simply just shared the pleasant silence.

well, less of silence, more of the comfortable ambience of the household; the TV was running some documentary indistinctly as background noise, ingo’s pokemon seemed to come and go around the house, occasionally stopping to stick near the couch and join the cozy quiet, and chandelure was as close to sleeping as it could get, nestled in ingo’s arms with it’s indigo hued flames crackling quietly.

( ingo himself seemed almost asleep as well- his eyes half lidded shut and his head occasionally bobbing upwards as if trying to stay awake. )

as the sound of keys jostling the doorknob began to come from the front door- awkwardly subtle, as if whoever was doing so wanted to enter as undetected as possible, and was failing in that manner, both ingo and elesa sat up to attention, unsurprised when the lanky, silver haired figure of emmet stuck his head through the door. he looked almost mildly disheveled; his hair was hardly fixed at this point, and elesa could see the bits of gauze sticking out from under his shirt collar and sleeves as he removed his jacket.

“ i am emmet. ingo, why did you invite elesa over at such an hour? ”

the almost nervous inflection to his words were evident, as the two stayed silent, their expressions reading enough that the man in the doorway audibly sighed in defeat. hanging up his coat, he began rummaging through his pockets, drawing out a small, yet odd assortment of items; fabric scraps, something that resembled a pokeball, various post it notes all folded up neatly- elesa could not even fathom, off the top of her head, how any of these correlated to each other.

whatever explanation he’s about to give is going to be a long one- she mused that silently to herself, as emmet sat down on the couch, beginning to speak.

“ to emmet treyne. ”

“ you don’t know me. that’s ok. but i need you to listen very carefully to this note . ”

“ your brother is in danger. i can’t tell you what just yet, but make sure neither of you are in his office at 5:30 tomorrow morning. ”

“ -v. ”

“ but i do not believe i was their original target. ”

ingo and elesa both seemed to furrow their brows in unison.

“ so this ‘v’ individual- he knew what was going to happen today somehow, and that it would’ve targeted ingo if you didn’t interfere? ”

“ yes- and he’s been leaving notes since. his name is volo, supposedly. ”

( ingo had become admittedly distant from the conversation, as worried as he was. fiddling with the pokeball’s latch, he could not help but mull over the situation in his head to himself- that something bad could have happened to emmet because he decided to brute force his way into protecting him from some mysterious rift in time, attempting to stake a claim on his existence- that, and some stranger had either knew in advance or had predicted it within a matter of a day, and thought to warn his brother, not him. )

( the ongoing conversation seemed to break and chip at his piling thoughts; eventually he did lift his head, listening with what bit of energy he had at the moment. whether the azure and violet flames still stretching and flickering in front of him were simply tiring him more than he should be, or he was simply exhausted for the day, he wasn’t sure. )

“ so we should go find this volo guy, right? seems like the most obvious answer, as he clearly knows what’s going on, yea? ”

“ considering he has been visiting the doubles line consecutively since the initial warning, he will likely be there tomorrow. we will find him again. and we will figure this out. ”

“ and we’re getting ingo to the doctor for that eye. ”

( there was an audible groan of complaint from the silver haired man at that, ) and after a few beats of silence, the whole trio could not help but break out into a fit of laughter together.

they would figure this out. yep.

seeing as it was even darker out, now, elesa seemed to gather her things, heading to the door.

“ well it’s getting late, so i’ll meet you boys tomorrow for our little investigation! catch you later! ”

waving goodbye to their friend, ingo and emmet sat on the couch in silence for a few moments before emmet rose first.

“ alright, you heard elesa. we have a day ahead of us tomorrow, and that means going to sleep on time. ”

noticing the other man’s drowsy expression, he furrowed his brows, adding on his words with a scoff.

“ …and not on the couch. ”

[redshcdes-archived]

honestly post-canon homestuck has given me ONE good thing and that was Terezi’s PQ sprites with her having a big stomach and hips and a tiny chest/bust like BABY THAT’S ME!

THIS TEREZI WAS MADE FOR ME!!

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from @watermelon1568, @lokisgirl5, @cocoamoonmalfoy and anon. This is so fluffy and maybe a little silly, but in a good way! Enjoy everyone and have a good Christmas Eve! ♥

Words: 2635 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of blood, implied smut

Additional NSFW warning: This Imagine contains implied period sex, just in case this is something you are uncomfortable with.

Loki might be a tiny tad OOC in this one because the requests were just so fluffy but I did my best! Enjoy!

-

Loki sighed. There you were again, running around with a list in hand looking much like the one Santa Clause had been carrying in that Christmas film Thor had forced him to watch. For the past few days, weeks almost, actually, you had been collecting everyone’s Christmas wishes like a squirrel collecting nuts for the winter. Even he knew everyone’s Christmas wishes by now. You had truly asked everybody, even the cleaning women who came to tidy up the entire Avengers facility once a week.

Loki could not quite put his finger on what it was that fascinated him so much about you—all he did know was that he too wanted to get you a Christmas present, if only just to see the surprised look on your face. He almost snorted. It was disappointment he felt, disappointment and envy because he longed to be the one to put a smile on your face on Christmas Day—and he didn’t even celebrate Christmas, not really.

Furthermore, he had not failed to notice how you avoided his presence like you were playing cat and mouse. You had, much to his surprise, asked him for his Christmas wish too the other day, all timid and unable to look him in the eye and Loki had been so taken aback he had not known an answer. The God of Mischief was many things but he was not blind and not stupid—he was perceptive. Villain or not, you were into him—and he was going to get your confession.

Smirking to himself, and determined to put an end to playing tag, he followed you into the empty hallway on your way back to your room, pushed past you and then unceremoniously blocked your way.

“O-Oh… hey, Loki.” You chirped.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“I, uh, actually, um… n-no?”

“Well, you did ask me what I wanted for Christmas, did you not?”

“Oh!” Your face lit up. “Oh, yes! Yes, what would you like?”

Loki thought about it for a moment. He needed an answer fast to not look like a moron now.

His lips parted. “I do miss writing with a quill and ink. Could you acquire a set for me? Surely, they are still being used on Midgard.”

Geez! How had you not thought about that? Loki truly was a scholar with all those books in his room, and that was a marvellous idea. “Y-yes, of course!” You responded, nodding eagerly in the process. But when you moved forward, Loki, instead of letting you pass now, put his hand against the wall so you were trapped.

“Hmm… Is there a particular reason you always get so nervous in my presence?” He asked. Your eyes widened. Fuck.

“Y-you… you tried to… you almost took over t-the p-planet, you k-know.” You lied quickly.

“Ah, yes. Of course… that must be it.” He responded with a knowing smirk. Oh, fuck. Did he have to be so god damn gorgeous?

“You never said what it was you want for Christmas, my dear.” He said then, blue eyes locking with yours. Your heart skipped a beat—no, actually, you were wondering whether it was still beating at all. You did have a Christmas wish, of course and you wanted to do backflips all across the hallway that Loki of all people took an interest in what you’d like—or maybe he just wanted to make conversation. Keep calm.

“Oh… it’s silly. Not really possible.” You replied sheepishly, gasping when he hooked a finger under your chin to gently force you to look up at him. He was definitely going to be the death of you.

“Tell me.” He urged you on.

“The only thing I… I’ve always wanted to have a dog. A loyal non-human companion, someone to cuddle with when it’s cold and who will never judge me but love me just the way I am… and they are just so cute! But that’s not possible,” You repeated quickly. “Imagine an innocent little puppy when everything’s on fire and another alien race attacks the planet!”

Loki hummed. Dogs were not common on Asgard. He himself had had a pet snake growing but released it into the wild after Thor and his friends had repeatedly stolen it to play silly and dangerous games. He could see why you kept that wish to yourself. Living among the Avengers, a dog might get in the way during missions—he did not doubt it would be helpful and capable of tearing off their enemies’ faces but your worry for it would distract you from a fight.

Still… perhaps there was a way. A smirk grew on his lips and your flustered reaction to it pleased him, making it grow wider.

-

It was early Christmas morning when Loki returned. It had taken him all of his wit and cunningness to leave the Avengers facilities unattended and without anyone asking suspicious questions but he had succeeded. The wooden box he was carrying—with many holes in them so the little creature could breathe—Loki sneaked across the hallway and past your room to hide his present for you in his own, already imagining your priceless reaction… was he hoping for a hug? Oh, he was. When was the last time anyone had hugged him? Perhaps you would, upon receiving the fluffy little creature in the box.

The dog winced. “Shh! Quiet, you silly little creature, you are going to wake up your mother!”

It was then he heard an ear-piercing scream coming from your room. He nearly dropped the box, turning on his heel to storm into your room like a tornado annihilating everything in its path. Your bed was empty, the sheets ruffled. There was a small beam of light coming from your bathroom—the closer he came, the more he could make out the rustling of fabric.

“I bloody hate being a woman…” You murmured to yourself, making the God of Mischief frown. Alarmed, he stepped closer and entered the bathroom without knocking—he barely remembered to set the box aside to draw his daggers if need be.

You were sat on the toilet, your white Christmas pyjamas with candy canes and gingerbread men on them soiled with blood. Loki’s eyes widened. There was blood on the floor too… and on your fingers.

His fingers were itching to materialise his weapons, yet he could see no enemy who could have attacked you. You gasped when he barged into the room, concealing your nakedness from the waist down with some toilet paper.

“What in the nine happened to you?” The amount of blood was almost concerning for a mortal. Had someone surprised you in your sleep? Who had managed to break into the Avengers facilities in the first place?

“How did you get in here? No wait, you’re awake already? Umm… Merry Christmas?” You swallowed. Talk about embarrassing yourself in front of the God of Mischief.

“We need to get you to a healer… a doctor, that is what you call them here?” You stared at him for a moment.

The last thing he expected was for you to burst out laughing. The whole situation was so hilarious you even forgot to be nervous around him for once.

“Oh, Loki… I’m okay, I’m not dying, I promise. I got surprised by my period, is all.”

“Your… period? Your period… as in your menstruation cycle?”

“Yes. Do women on Asgard not have that?”

“They do but… not like this.” Heavens, he felt stupid. He had thought you were dying, openly shown his concern… and you had laughed.

“Loki…” It was like you had heard his thoughts. “Thank you for checking on me. I was just being frustrated but I promise I’m okay.” You had probably disturbed his sleep but the fact that Loki cared enough to come to your help, admitting that just perhaps… he actually liked you. “W-would you mind?” Loki raised his brows, his lips parting.

“Yes, of course.”

He turned around for you to get dressed again (never before had you been more grateful for the pile of more or less dirty laundry on the floor next to your toilet) and nodded, only realising now that he had indeed just proved that one way or another, he had taken a liking into you. It was then the dog winced again just outside the bathroom door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. In fact, I shall leave you… how did you get out of that box?” Eager and curious, the puppy must have somehow knocked its wooden box over. When Loki looked behind him, he found the lid on the floor, the young dog hurtling towards you.

“Oh my god! Hey there, little guy! Where did you come from?” You giggled when the dog attempted to jump up on you. You picked it up, grinning when it licked your face. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Loki pursed his lips. Oh, great. Now he was getting the hug. He furrowed his brows. Heavens, this was an innocent little puppy. Against all reason, he already loved the little guy with all his heart himself, how could he possibly feel jealous?

“You were not supposed to see it yet. I was going to put the box under the Christmas tree.”

“R-really? You mean… he’s for me? Oh, Loki… but h-how? I mean… I love him. But how can I keep him safe here? Is that really a good idea?”

“Well… he is, in fact, not a normal dog.” Loki remarked.

Your eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“Dogs are rare on Asgard but there are indeed a few traders who raise them. This unprepossessing creature has a life expectancy five times as high as Midgardian dogs—not to mention it is stronger, more intelligent and much like Thor and me, more resistant to pain and injury.”

“You’re a superdog then, aren’t you? Yes, you are, such a good boy. I need a name for him.” You announced. Loki raised his arms. That would be your decision. His pet snake had never had a name. “I’ll think of something.” Smiling, you stepped forward and kissed Loki on the cheek whose lips parted in surprise.

“Thank you so much. I didn’t think you would… why did you?” He said nothing in response. He couldn’t possibly tell you that he wanted a hug and that the only person he wanted it from was you. Your lips on his face had already felt like liquid fire, warming him from the inside out. Heavens, what was wrong with him? You were a mortal. He couldn’t possibly like you this much.

“You should go back to bed.” He said after a while, clearing his throat. “It is still early.” You nodded. He was right. Besides, you and your little puppy needed to get to know each other.

Needless to say, however, you couldn’t fall asleep again after you had gotten changed into new pyjamas and then cuddled with your new pet. Loki had gotten you a dog. Why? He owed you nothing, and quite on the contrary, you highly doubted Loki would even bother to get the rest of the Avengers a Christmas gift.

-

In the meantime, Loki himself returned to his room, shaking his head in the process. He was being ridiculous. The other day in the hallway, he had still managed to remain composed but the more time he spent around you, the softer he became for you.

He had been worried for you upon seeing all that blood and it had scared him. Love and affection weren’t exactly emotions he got to experience a lot and then for a human of all species…

He realised with a start just what it was that was happening to him. He was courting you, wasn’t he? He had not done anything alike in years, the last time for a beautiful Asgardian woman who had turned out to take more interest in Thor than him.

Loki was no expert on dating. He had never had the need for it… not until you. A growl escaped his lips. How dangerous for his already shattered heart would it be to give in to his desire and make you smile again? To feel your lips against his skin once more?

Another growl. He was addicted to you already. Jumping up from the bed, he left the facilities again, this time to head a few miles west. Frigga had always said that love goes through the stomach. He might as well try that strategy out.

-

About two hours later, there was a soft knock on your door. You stirred, eyes fluttering open. Your puppy—you had still not thought of a name for it—had curled up in your arms, still sleeping soundly.

“Yes?”

The door opened to reveal Loki. With a smirk, he produced something from behind his back—a box with the logo of your favourite pancake shop on it. Your jaw dropped.

“Merry Christmas.” He announced.

“Oh my goodness… Loki, you are so sweet.”

The God of Mischief raised an eyebrow. “Sweet is not exactly what I was hoping for.” He replied, albeit smiling.  You sat up carefully to not wake the puppy, accepting the pancakes all the while licking your lips hungrily. Now that was one way to start Christmas Day.

“How about considerate?” You tried again, smiling up at him sweetly. Loki smirked, hands clasped behind his back. He almost appeared a little… awkward.

You longed to ask him why he was doing all this but then again… you could think of only one answer. It couldn’t possibly be, no?

“Care to share? They are really good.”

“It appears so. The entire restaurant smelled like a sugar realm.”

“Is that a thing?”

“No.”

“Oh… pity.” He chuckled.

Twenty minutes in which you silently ate with relish went by, the puppy still sleeping peacefully in your bed, with you unable to stop petting it all the time. Once you had finished the very last bite, you simply dropped the empty takeaway-packaging on the floor.

“Thank you so much, Loki. I couldn’t have imagined better Christmas presents.”

He nodded, watching your every move as you moved in to give him another kiss on the cheek.

This time though, in just this moment, Loki turned his head to face you again, your lips landing on his instead. You gasped, even more so when he deepened the kiss, moving his mouth gently against yours, tongue slipping between your lips to taste you. Oh my god. Loki was kissing you. Loki was kissing you!

It felt like a demon from Muspelheim had set his body on fire, from the inside out. Loki was ablaze. Unable to stop himself, his arms came up to pull you closer into his body until you were straddling him, your fingers digging into his clothes. You both knew where this was going.

There was no doubt you were going to wake up the little dog when you pushed him back on the mattress, overcome with a sudden confidence and hunger that made you feel invincible. Loki did not object. The only reason you hesitated was the fact you remembered just then that you were on your period. Reluctantly, you pulled away.

“Loki… maybe we should do this… another time. My… period, remember?”

“A little bit of blood will not stop me from ravishing you, my dear.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“A-are you sure?”

Loki nodded slowly and intimately, his blue gaze never leaving yours.

Next thing you knew, the both of you lost all of your layers of clothing one by one. Scratch making a list for Christmas presents for your friends to make them happy… you couldn’t quite believe that Loki actually reciprocated your affection for him. This certainly was the most amazing Christmas yet.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[my-soul-sings]

kiss the girl: ch 2

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2

*** 

“Surprise her with flowers.”

Artem has skipped to the second half of the book where the practical suggestions are, because he doesn’t have the patience to carefully read the lengthy explanations of the “psychology of love”. The practical tips are simple enough, but the explanations following each of them are unnecessarily long and repetitive.

Ignoring those, he highlights the ones that stand out—those that sound more doable for him, at least.

The first one he notices is a classic: flowers. Of course. He’s done it before actually—he’d given her a bouquet of garden cosmos because she told him that she liked them. She didn’t really show much of a reaction back then, but he recalls the warm smile it had put on her face for the rest of that day. He doesn’t mind seeing it again. 

But, would it be boring to do the exact same thing? Maybe he can change it up slightly… If he recalls correctly, the book said something about how to send a bouquet of flowers in a way that will “keep her on her toes”. 

It doesn’t take long for him to scan the book and find the relevant page. However, as he goes over the detailed suggestion, his brows gradually turn downwards into a frown. 

“Will this really work...” he mumbles to himself, pressing a finger to his temple. Frankly, it sounds unnecessarily cliched and cumbersome… not to mention embarrassing. No doubt, if Celestine catches wind of this, she won’t let him live it down.

But, he supposes, if he’s going to take relationship advice from a book, then he might as well go through with it fully. 

Having made up his mind, Artem picks up his phone and begins typing up a draft message. 

***

You’ve barely stepped into the office when you hear Kiki calling your name in an unusually high-pitched voice. Your first thought is that she’s managed to get tickets for the upcoming concert for her favourite idol group.

But then you arrive at your desk and realise a marked change from how you had left it the night before: your usually clean and neat desk now has a large bouquet of garden cosmos placed right in the middle of it.

Artem’s is the first name that comes to mind, but you dismiss the thought quickly. With his shy and reserved personality, it’d be strange to expect him to send you flowers out of the blue. 

Your sharp eyes don’t miss the little pink rectangular card sticking out from the side of the bouquet. Kiki spots it at the same time as you do, and her eyes widen with a playful gleam, not even trying to be subtle with the way she’s leaning over to you, to take a peek at the message.

With a cheeky smile, you lean away from her too, deliberately hiding the card from her view, which only makes Kiki kick up a fuss about wanting to see too. Thankfully, Celestine isn’t in the office yet. You don’t think you can deal with two overly-enthused friends this early in the morning.  

Ignoring Kiki’s protests, you open the folded card to read it. As it turns out, there’s not much to hide from her. The message is a simple and curt one:

I hope this makes you smile. Have a good day.

“There’s no signature,” you remark, handing the card to Kiki who practically lunges for it. Her disappointment at the short message is obvious. “Why would someone give you flowers without signing off on it?”

“Maybe they forgot?” you venture, although you carefully search the bouquet in case you missed something else.

“Don’t tell me… Did you send this to yourself?”

You’re unable to hold in your laughter at the absurd idea, and the both of you simultaneously burst into giggles. Just then, your finger feels the edge of another piece of paper hidden between the wrapping paper. You pull it out, and it’s just a small, square card with the letter ‘M’ written on it in fancy, embellished lettering.

“Maybe it’s the first letter of his name?” Kiki suggests. “Who do you think it’s from?”

The letter ‘M’... You don’t know that many people whose name starts with that letter, and a familiar face is already coming to mind—he’s the only one who would pull a stunt like this, especially after you told him specifically a few days ago that you did not want him to send flowers to you, and especially not to your workplace. You don’t want to be teased by your colleagues and worse, Artem might get the wrong idea if he sees it.

“I think I might know who the culprit is…”

With a clenched fist, you pull out your phone and search up the contact before hitting the ‘call’ button. Kiki is left behind, cleanly forgotten, as you storm out of the office to give the culprit a piece of your mind.

***

When Artem enters the office that morning, the first thing he notices is Celestine and Kiki whispering to each other at the pantry while stealing glances at a certain attorney’s way. He follows their gazes to her desk where she’s seated and doing work as always, although today there seems to be a frown etched onto her face, and the bouquet of flowers are nowhere to be seen.

He panics for a moment, wondering if something had gone wrong with the delivery, but then he notices the wrapping peeking out from underneath the table when he walks past her desk and heads towards the pantry, where her two friends are obviously talking about her behind her back—literally.

“What’s going on?” he asks in a low whisper after exchanging morning greetings with them. “Did something happen?”

Celestine discreetly points in the direction of their sulking friend with a grimace. “She’s been like this ever since she got the flowers this morning.”

Artem’s brows knit together, and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally manages to piece together his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I thought... she’d be happy to receive flowers.”

“I thought so too,” Kiki nods, “but when I asked if she knew who the sender was, she suddenly got angry. Said she knew who the culprit was and stormed off. Then she came back and she’s been doing work like this ever since.” She finishes her explanation with a drawn-out sigh, and her eyes return to the back figure of the junior lawyer who’s furiously typing away at her computer.

Artem follows her gaze, and nervously swallows a lump that had formed in his throat without him realising. As always, Celestine is annoyingly quick to catch on to what he’s thinking, and she startles him slightly with an elbow nudge to his arm. “Shouldn’t you put your things down in your office? Or are you here for coffee again?”

He’s not even in the mood to humour her right now. With an absent hum, he nods and quietly trudges towards his office.

Once he’s inside and the door is shut, his bag falls to the ground by his desk and his jacket is flung unceremoniously onto the back of his chair before he sinks into it, fingers entangling in his hair.

He’s screwed. Did he send her the wrong flowers? But she said she liked garden cosmos and he had sent her the same flowers before, so that can’t be it.

Then, was it the message? But he took pains to make sure that it was short, simple and pleasant. Or was it because it was too short? Had she been expecting more?

No, no, but Kiki said she got angry after she figured out who the sender was… which meant that she was angry at him. Had he overstepped the boundaries by sending flowers to the office?

That’s probably it. He messed up horribly. Of course she would be upset that her boss sent her flowers to the office—that was inappropriate. Entirely inappropriate. Why didn’t he think this through properly? Stupid, stupid stupid…

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even register the sound of knocking on his door. It’s only when he hears his name being called that he looks up, only to meet the gaze of his colleague whom he can’t bear to face right now.

Hastily, he fixes his hair from the crazed pulling and tugging just seconds ago, and sits upright in his chair while eyeing her cautiously. He’d better pick his words wisely here. “Yes?” The word comes out strained, as if he’s choking.

“I’ve completed the draft statement of claim for the Macrosoft employee issue—the one about the breach of restraint of trade clause and the conspiracy claim,” she says, placing a set of papers on his table. “I’ve also completed the legal opinion you requested for the resulting trust analysis on the Williams’ matrimonial property issue, and I will send you the draft affidavit for Mrs Jones’ case by the end of today.”

“Ah. Thank you…” Artem waits for her to say something else, all while scrutinising her face. She doesn’t seem as angry as before—although she does look a little confused when she meets his gaze.

“Did I miss anything?” she asks, already visibly starting to panic.

“N-No, it’s not that...” Should he just apologise right now and avoid letting the issue fester? He’s not sure if he should be happy or unnerved by how perfectly normal she’s acting. Is she not angry anymore? Or is she just doing an exceptional job of holding her anger in? All those reminders he used to give her about maintaining composure in front of clients and in court must have paid off.

“Okay. Then, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go—”

“Wait, just— just a second.” She peers at him curiously as he stands to his feet and walks over to her, all the while refusing to make eye contact with her.

“T-The morning... flowers… you...” For goodness’ sake, he makes a living off speaking before the court, and yet here he is, reduced to the equivalent of a blabbering toddler in front of his colleague.

“Ah... you saw those?” she looks away, and he sees the frustration from earlier returning to her face.

“You… don’t like them?”

“It’s not that,” she replies, twisting her lips. “It’s just a stupid prank to play on someone.”

“A… stupid… prank?” Each word is like a stab to his chest. Did he do something to give her the impression that he was making fun of her, or playing a joke? Most people think he’s too serious to crack jokes in the first place...

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve settled it with the culprit.”

For the first time in the conversation so far, Artem doesn’t sink further into his internal pool of self-pity. Instead, he’s now genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I just called him to tell him to not send me flowers to the office anymore. I’ve told him before, but he really doesn’t listen to people.”

“Who?”

“Marius. You know how he is.”

“You think… Marius… gave you the flowers?”

“Yeah. He kept denying it over the phone, but I know better than to believe him. Who else would send me flowers for no reason?”

She’s staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to laugh at her rhetorical question or respond to it in some way.

Artem doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how, because his mind has drawn a complete blank at this point, save for the one question ringing in his mind:

Where the heck did she get the idea that the flowers were from Marius?

In his stupor, Artem doesn’t realise that the silence in his office has been stretching on for far too long for it to be comfortable. And he doesn’t notice the realisation that clicks in her eyes after a while, until he hears a quiet, “ Oh .”

She sheepishly meets his eyes. “By any chance, was that letter on the card meant to be a ‘W’? As in, ‘Wing’?”

Should he admit it? If he does, will her anger shift to him? Should he just let Marius be the scapegoat and live the rest of his days in quiet atonement and regret?

Artem doesn’t get the chance to admit it, because she easily reads the answer off his very perplexed and obviously guilty expression. Obviously, he’s far better suited to defending criminals than acting like one.

“Are you mad?” he asks her, when she too, falls silent.

“Huh? No, no, of course not. Why would I be?”

“You were angry when you thought Marius sent you flowers.”

“That’s because it’s Marius. But I’m glad the flowers were from you .” Her lips spread into a warm smile, and in that instant, all of Artem’s worries dissolve into thin air. “I love the bouquet, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

A smile of relief makes its way onto his face, and he nods. “I’m glad you like it.”

So there is some truth to the book that Celestine gave him after all.

In that case… maybe next time, he can send her roses. He hopes he’ll have the occasion to, anyway. For now, he’ll take it one step at a time.

[werenotadulting]

Routine Procedure pt. 2 & 3

(Hello friends. Before we continue, a disclaimer. This story is intended for mature, 18+, kink-friendly audiences. This post contains sexual content.

This story may seem, uh, pretty fucked up. The product that caused Mike's incontinence is purely fictional, but the story can still seem plausible within the realm of reality. Which makes the actions of the characters....well, pretty fucked up. I don't want to spoil the story, but I will leave with this.

Aren't we all, in our own way, a little fucked up?

I'd woken up as we turned onto our street.

"Hey sweetie. We're almost home."

"Huh, wh-...where are we?" I blinked a couple times, my eyes adjusting to the light.

She took my hand in hers. "You're in the car, on the way home from the hospital. There's something I need to-"

Suddenly I was wide awake.

"Oh man, I had the weirdest dream. I was in recovery and all the sudden the doctor is going on about how something went wrong, which is crazy, right? Like it was the easiest of surgeries, so it's not like something could ever go wrong."

Kate just stared straight ahead as she pulled into our driveway.

"Let's talk inside."

────────

"You have to remember to check it every couple of hours, Mike. I can do it for you if want me to."

I glared at her.

"Jesus Kate, don't you think I know that? It's bad enough I have to wear this stupid thing, but you don't have to keep reminding me like I'm some kind of child!"

Was I overreacting? Maybe. Did I have every right to be upset about what I'd woken up to in the hospital? Absolutely. Did Kate deserve me taking my anger out on her?

No. She didn't.

I took a deep breath, counting to ten in my head.

"Okay, listen. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, I just...I feel like my life just got turned upside down. You're only trying to help and....I'm sorry," I finished lamely.

Kate, noticing my shirt had become tucked into the back of my pull-up, pulled it out.

"I understand, Mike," Kate said, looking at me with sympathy. "You didn't ask for this, plus that whole thing with the clause in the paperwork. There's not much we can do but move on and learn to cope." She stood up, smiling at me. "But on the brightside, no medical bills, plus they're offering to cover the cost of whatever supplies you need. I'm going to be here every step of the way, helping you out however you need it."

Despite her positive outlook, I wasn't swayed. "Oh, sure, great." I laid the sarcasm on thick. "I get to spend the rest of my life peeing myself. The brightside is oh so blinding."

"It was a really long day, babe," Kate said, hushing my attitude and moving behind me as she started to rub my shoulders. "What do you say you take a couple of those sleeping pills, zonk out for the night, and see what kind of fresh perspective tomorrow brings, huh?"

Sleep did sound like the only brief respite I was going to get from this hell.

"If you'd like, I can check you during the night to see if it need changed. That way you can just sleep and not have to worry."

"Umm no, it's fine. I just put it on, so it should last me overnight. You'd probably only wake me up anyway. Thank you though," I said, giving her a small smile. "I'm glad at least one of us is handling this well."

────────

It wasn't until around midnight that Mike finally got comfortable enough to sleep. As Kate looked in on him, she could see that he was still a little restless, tossing and turning as if having a bad dream.

For a brief second she had second thoughts, but quickly shoved them aside. No, she wanted this. Mike needed this. She had waited so long. It was for the best. She looked down on him lovingly.

"Sleep well, my sweet boy. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be just as interesting as today was."

Even when he took sleeping pills, Mike was notoriously a restless sleeper. And she may or may not have poked a couple holes in the pull-up. Mike didn't bother to check, and why should he?

After all, accidents happen.

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

Part 3

Cold.

The first thing that hit me was how cold I was.

That didn't make any sense. I'm in bed, I shouldn't be cold. I grabbed the covers to push them back and immediately realized why I was cold.

The bed, the sheets, the comforter, all of them, were wet.

"Shit."

I saw then why the bed had gotten wet. No. Soaked.

Tossing and turning in my sleep, the pull-up, I presume, had not stayed in place. Meaning the bed had gotten soaked. Meaning I had gotten soaked. Hence...

"Shit."

Kate walked out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel with a second around her body.

"Hey babe. I had to get up to get cleaned off, because I was covered in...well, yeah. Are you okay?"

I got up and began balling up the sheets and bedspread. "Oh I'm just peachy. I pissed all over myself like a baby last night, so that was fun. I also will continue to piss all over myself no matter what I do, and I'll be stuck doing laundry every day for the rest of my life!"

I threw the bedding on the floor in disgust. Kate took my arm, tenderly, and stopped my tantrum.

"Hey, listen. Strip down, and go take a shower. Take that stupid thing off, get out the loofah, and scrub. I don't want you coming out until you're good and relaxed, you hear me? I'll wash the sheets." As she was saying this, Kate was already moving to take the mattress protector off of the bed.

"No, Kate, stop. You don't have to-"

"Get. In. The. Shower."

"But..."

"NOW!" I can only describe the look she was giving me as domineering. I'd never seen her like this. "Don't make me ask again."

Sheepishly, I began to disrobe.

Kate's voice returned to its normal, caring tone. "Once you're all washed up, meet me in the living room, please. I want to talk to you about something."

────────

Kate was sitting on the couch when I walked out. She pat the cushion next to her, indicating she wanted me to sit down.

"Mike, sweetie. I want you to listen to me without interrupting, okay? And please remember that all I'm saying comes from a place of love and wanting you to be happy," Kate said, her big hazel eyes looking at me imploringly.

"Umm...okay, sure yeah. What's up?" I sat down next to her.

"First, I wanted to reiterate that I understand how frustrated you must be right now. But I don't want to be the target of your outbursts. It's not fair." She paused, looking at me, and I just nodded that I understood.

"Second, I think we both can see that the whole pull-up thing isn't working. I don't want another surprise like last night." Here she stopped again, turning to grab something from behind the couch. She pulled a plastic package out and set it on her lap.

"The hospital gave us these to try if the... if we wanted to try something different," she said, pulling a white rectangle out of the package. It made a rustling sound as she grabbed it.

"Is that a....I am not wearing a diaper!"

"Mike, please, stop. Just listen. You said you wouldn't interrupt." She moved the package back to the floor, keeping the diaper on her lap.

"I'm just asking you to try, for both my sake and yours. Please?"

She didn't continue, so I took that as my cue that I could speak, but I didn't know what to say. I sat in silence, thinking, for what felt like hours.

She had a point. I had slept terribly, which was likely to make me even more irritable. But on the other hand, could I really stand to go through the embarrassment of wearing a diaper? Although I suppose it is preferable to having wet pants. I couldn't imagine the humiliation I would feel if I were to leak all over myself in public.

Finally, I broke the silence.

"I've....I've never had to put on or change a diaper before..." I said finally, hanging my head.

Kate perked up, that smile I loved hinting on her lips.

"I can help with that, babe. Just at first, until you get the hang of it. And if they don't work, we will move on to the next thing, okay?"

"Are you sure d-diapers are the best option?" I had to struggle to get the word out. "How do you know they will help?" I said, unable to take my eyes off of the plastic object on her lap.

"For one, pull-ups are pretty much already diapers. We'd just be changing them even more often."

She picked up the diaper and stood up, pulling me by the hand.

"Second, judging by the fact that I'm going to have to clean that couch cushion, I'd say we need to at least try something."

────────

"Lift up so I can slide this under you."

I obliged, holding my butt up in the air as I lay on the freshly cleaned sheets. I tried to look anywhere but at Kate.

Kate unfolded the diaper, fluffing it slightly. She positioned the diaper under me and I lowered down onto it.

"You know, this doesn't have to be all bad," she said, as she picked up a bottle of baby powder. Why did we even have baby powder? Where did that come from?

"Oh, really? Explain to me what about having my girlfriend change me into a diaper isn't all bad." I continued to stare pointedly at the ceiling.

"For starters," she said, dusting powder on my groin, "there's this." Suddenly, she reached down and began slowly stroking my cock.

"Whuuuuu-oah boy. Um just w-what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm rubbing in the powder, clearly," she said, and I finally looked to see that devilish grin back on her face. "You don't seem to be protesting that...hard," she giggled. "I figured since I'm down here, I might as well make myself useful." Without further preamble, she lowered her mouth and took me inside of it.

"That's..uhhh....o-okay...." I trailed off, lost in a mix of confusion and pleasure. It wasn't long before I was finished, and Kate was sitting back up. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and swallowed.

"Wow, you must have enjoyed that, I don't think you've ever cum so quicky."

I was too stunned to speak. My gaze had returned to the ceiling, but I wasn't focused on anything.

Kate started to move again, and I heard that crinkling sound. She pulled the diaper up and taped it snugly in place, securing me into the first of what would soon become my all-too-familiar thick and crinkly underwear.

"So tell me, Mike," she said, patting the front of the diaper as she looked over her handiwork, "was that all bad?"

[amazinglyegg]

Fallout 4 Companions (+ the dlc ones pls) react to finding out the sole survivor is actually a God? (Like Loki or smth) Maybe ss shows off their God powers and keeps making jokes about how being decapitated for witchcraft is not fun at all, and such the like?

Oh man this one’s fun! I’m sorry if the DLC characters (especially Ada and Gage) are OOC because I don’t have Nukaworld or Automatron yet :’)

Fallout 4 Companions React: Sole is a God

Cait: “Yeah, okay, and I’m fucking Santa Clause - hoLY SHITE”. Wouldn’t believe you until you really show her your abilities, still finds it hard to believe because what the fuck. Probably a bit intimidated by your strength but will never show it. She doesn’t appreciate being out-shined in battle, and responds to most of your jokes like “Yeah, yeah, stop rubbing it in.”

Codsworth: I’d like to think he’d just acts as if it’s normal. Like, whatever in his training/program teaches him not to treat people differently for how they look or act, so he just kinda roles with it. When Sole shoots lightning down from the sky or whatever he’ll cheer them on like they just made a good sniper shot. Sole: Yeah being tied up and thrown in a lake in 1856 wasn’t very fun :( Codsworth: Aha, I can only imagine! Such a life you have... Everyone else: w-what

Curie: Very torn. On one hand, she’s an atheist, and would doubt you’re really a God at first (”My scientific notes say nothing about the existence of higher beings!”) but also... the proof is right in front of her. At first she may try summing it up to radiation or something similar, but after a while of studies and tests she’ll come to realize that the only logical conclusion is... well, you’re truly a God. Easy to change her mind once she has enough time to study you, she won’t try to deny facts, and trusts you easily.

Danse: He knows what to do when it comes to ghouls and synths, but Elder Maxson has never said anything about GODS. He’ll talk to Maxson before giving you the rank of initiate, maybe just a bit scared of your power. Once he gets to know you I feel like he may be a bit... jealous? Like, you don’t need to train or work out at all, just a snap of your fingers and your enemies are dead. He may try to persuade you to kill people “the Brotherhood way” when you’re out doing a mission together, especially if you usually use your powers on weaker enemies.

Deacon: Holy shit!! That’s cool, man. He may not believe your a God, per say, but whatever those powers are, they’re cool, so he’ll roll with it. Maybe not the best for blending in, but you’re a literal God, so who cares. He’ll take it in stride, probably shoves it in other peoples faces like “Yeah, my besties a God, so what?” He’ll probably pretend he’s a God as well, and go along with all the jokes and stories you tell. No wonder he wanted you to join the Railroad.

Hancock: You’ll shapeshift or something and he’ll be like “haha holy shit were my drugs laced with something?” and then you’ll snap your fingers and Finn will just, explode, and he’ll be like “oh fuCK”. He thinks you are So. Cool, cheers you on during battle, always wants to see your powers (as long as you’re using them for good.) Probably makes comments about you being his new bodyguard while travelling together, or you being Goodneighbors guardian angel. Likes it when the two of you get into a bit of mischief.

MacCready: Probably terrified, lets be honest. He wouldn’t believe you as you tell jokes and may even get annoyed at your persistence to this dumb God story, but once you show him your power he’ll be a bit scared for his life. I mean, why would you hire a mercenary when you’re a literal GOD!? Once you two become friends he’ll find it amazing, “like a real life Grognak!” A little annoyed if you keep stealing his kills, though

Nick: “Welp, I may need to re-evaluate my religion.” He’ll believe you once you show an example of your power, but he’s shocked and honestly finds it all pretty ridiculous, shrugs it off as impressed. He likes it when you talk about your past (mis)adventures, and likes watching you use your powers. Like Hancock, may make guardian angel jokes, and he takes the jokes you make in good faith once he gets used to them.

Piper: “Haha, okay, nice magic trick, blue. I can’t even see the strings holding you up or something. There’s no way you can really fly... right?” It would take a long time of questioning and having to show proof before she believes you, she keeps trying to find the “secret��� behind all your “magic tricks”. Once you’ve successfully proved it to her, though, she is so amazed. Asking for details on all your powers, how you’ve used them, watch out what you say because she will put anything in the papers if you’re not careful.

Preston: I feel like there’d be a bit of child-like amazement; Think of Prestons' quotes while flying a vertibird for example. He may be a bit nervous at first but once he knows you use your powers for good he just asks you don’t abuse them too much. Probably a bit jealous. Asks so many questions about your past and your immortality, any joke you tell will result in you giving him a history lesson.

Strong: Could you turn a supermutant religious? Probably not. But he’s never seen anyone stronger than a supermutant before, so he’s pretty damn amazed. Makes you leader, but doesn’t really like it if you use your powers to, lets say snap someone out of existence. He prefers you using super strength or something similar to make a bloody mess, anything else makes his head hurt. Tells his brothers about you, but chances are they wouldn’t believe him.

X6-88: “This... shouldn’t be scientifically possible.” If Shaun doesn’t have any of these powers X6 would be very... perturbed. He may talk you into getting medical evaluations at the Institute, anything to try to explain your powers. If Shaun does have some form of these powers he will be so hyped to travel with you. “Nice one, sir / ma’am / Mx” “You’re more terrifying than a courser”. I don’t think he responds to jokes normally, so chances are he’d just be awkwardly quiet if you tell them.

Ada: “That is quite the feat, sir / ma’am / mx”. She would try to act formal and brush it off, but she would be so bewildered at every new power. Probably ends up being like “So how do you do it? I mean, there has to be some sort of logical explanation...” It will take a while for her to believe you’re a God.

Gage: “Shit, boss. That’s... holy shit.” Probably the “mark me down as scared AND horny” meme, he’s impressed and excited that the overboss has this much power, but also at the same time the overboss has THIS much power. Maybe too much power? He’ll try not to get on your bad side - if any old raider will kill you for looking at them the wrong way, what will YOU do?

Old Longfellow: Refuses to believe any jokes/stories you tell, at best just laughs them off and at worst starts to think you’ve gone a bit mad due to the fog. He’s been alive for too long to be tricked by anything like tha- did you just pick up a car!? He’s skeptical at first like “Are you sure you’re not fucking with me?” but he really can’t deny what’s right in front of him. Doesn’t really know how or if to compliment you other than a “holy shit”

[drabbles-mc]

Catching Feelings

Bishop Losa x Reader

Request from my fave @masterlistforimagines​​: the classic friends with benefits, but someone caught feelings trope for Bish

Warnings: light angst, language

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I didn’t turn this into a smutty request solely because I got super wrapped up in Bish’s feelings haha. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

Bish Taglist: @sincerelyasomebody​​ @sadeyesgf​​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​​ @multiyfandomgirl40​​ @sillygoose6969​​ @queenbeered​​ @louisianalady​​ @gemini0410​​ @paintballkid711​​ @chibsytelford​​ @yourwonkywriter​​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know!)

You were shimmying back into your jeans, trying to pretend that you didn’t feel Bishop’s eyes on you. It was late, and you had an early morning coming up. The thought of prolonging your stay a little bit was tempting, but you knew that you’d pay for it once your alarm went off in the morning. Bishop was lying on the bed, chin resting in the palm of his hand. You did your best not to look at him for too long because you knew that if you did, it would be too easy to talk you into staying.

“You could just stay here, you know,” he offered up with a smile.

You chuckled and shook your head. It wouldn’t have been the first time you stayed over, and if you didn’t have plans the next day you might’ve. “Not tonight, Bish.”

“Suit yourself,” there was a smug grin on his face as he watched you pull a shirt on over your head.

“Can’t make it too easy on you, can I? Takes all the fun out of it,” you winked, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You blew him a kiss before heading out of the bedroom and leaving the house.

He listened intently for the sound of your car starting. When the sound of the engine faded away, he let out a sigh. He sat upright, running his hands down his face. For someone who had thought that the idea of friends with benefits was childish and that he was too old for it, he wasn’t able to say no to you when you had pitched the idea. You both had busy lives that didn’t make it easy to have romantic relationships, and there was no denying the comfort and attraction that was there between the two of you, so it just seemed to make sense.

You weren’t sober when you finally blurted out the idea to him. The two of you were staying late at the clubhouse together one night after a rough couple of days, burning through beer bottles faster than you should’ve been. He’d been flirting with you all night, but that wasn’t something out of the ordinary, and you certainly weren’t the only woman he was flirtatious with. But you noticed that when women tried to push it any farther, he would send them off. He’d do it nicely, but he would make sure they didn’t overstay their welcome.

“How do you not have someone down on lock yet, Bish?” you laughed as you sipped on your beer.

He smiled, shaking his head at you from across the table, “I guess you could say that I am not the easiest man to be with, Y/N.”

“Alright fair. But you never even give these girls a chance to, you know,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, “relieve some of your tension.”

He laughed, “I’m in no position to be having a string of one-night stands. I leave that to the young bucks patching in. They’re young and stupid enough to think it’s a good idea.”

“Hm,” you thought about your response for a moment, “What about a fuck-buddy?”

He raised an eyebrow, “A what?”

You laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder, “You know, a friend with benefits. No strings attached kind of deal, just sex. You get the consistency of one person so you don’t need to worry about getting tested for something every couple of weeks,” you laughed, “Plus, it’ll be with someone that you can actually stand to hang out with once you’re done fucking. Win-win for everybody.”

His eyes searched yours, trying to figure out what your end-goal was with this conversation, “I’m not in my twenties anymore, Y/N. I think I’ve aged out of the friends with benefits category.”

You smirked, slowly running your foot up his leg underneath the table, “I beg to differ.”

And the rest was history. It’d been a few months since that first night and things had been going smoothly. The two of you kept your business private since he was the president of the MC, but you knew that the guys had their assumptions. Neither you nor Bishop ever commented one way or another when they would try to bring it up. You liked the sense of mystery, and the fact that it felt a little bit like a game at times. You’d push boundaries with him every now and then, just to see how worked up you’d be able to get him at the clubhouse without anyone noticing. And for a man who said that he was too old to be friends with benefits, he sure seemed to be benefiting a lot.

His mind raced with the events of the past few months. At first, he was certain that surely it couldn’t be that simple, that the two of you could remain friends and just have sex with each other when it was convenient. But that was exactly what had been happening, and you hadn’t changed the way you treated him at all. He was still your friend, and someone that you valued and respected, but never once throughout the course of the weeks of late-night and post-run rendezvous had you ever tried to pressure him into something more. He was impressed that you were able to compartmentalize so well.

He just wished that he was able to do the same thing.

As the days continued to tick by, he realized that maybe he wasn’t cut out to do the whole friends with benefits thing, but not because it was only something that young people did. He began to think that maybe he couldn’t handle it because the more time that he spent with you, the more times that he got to hold you and kiss you and make you tremble underneath his touch, the more he realized that he didn’t want to just be your friend. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew that he was starting to have feelings for you. There were times in the morning when he’d see you getting dressed and all he could think about was how nice it would be if he got to be with you every morning while you got ready for work, and you’d be there for him every night when he came home after dealing with the club and all the chaos it brought him. His mind would wander off with thoughts of what it would be like to really be with you, to finally settle down, and it was getting harder and harder to pull himself out of those thoughts.

He stared at his phone screen, waiting for your text letting him know that you had gotten home safe. You didn’t live terribly far, but he still wanted to know that you made it okay. He smiled when your name lit up his phone screen, “I’m home. You can go to sleep now”. He smiled as he typed out his reply, “Thank you. Got plans tomorrow night?”

A few minutes passed before your reply came, “Why? Miss me already?”

He paused for a moment, trying to really think out his reply. He was second-guessing everything he said, not wanting to lose you, “Something like that, yea”

“I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for you”

He smiled, deciding to leave it at that. He set his phone off to the side and rolled so that he was staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if you were just really good at pretending that you weren’t starting to develop feelings for him too. When the two of you agreed to this whole arrangement, he worried at first that you had suggested it because you already were falling for him. Now he was thinking that maybe he let his ego get to him a little bit by thinking that and it was coming back to bite him. He sighed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to force himself to go to sleep without dwelling on the fact that his bed felt empty without you in it.

You stopped by the clubhouse after work the next day to see him for a few minutes. He was seated outside on the deck and you plopped down across from him with a smile, “Presidente.”

He smiled at you, “Y/N, didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You laughed, “I told you I’d see if I could clear my schedule for you.”

“Weren’t sure if you were going to be able to follow through,” he watched as you reached across the table and took his beer, taking a sip from the bottle with a smirk on your face.

“I’ll always find a way to make time for you, Obispo,” you gave him his beer back.

He looked at you and he felt his heart pound harder inside his chest. The two of you had agreed that if one of you became uncomfortable with anything about your situation, you’d both back off with no questions asked. He wondered if he should cash in on that clause, but he didn’t want to give up the closeness he got to have with you.

“I actually meant to reach out to you earlier,” he hated the words even as he was saying them, “Some shit came up with the club. Got some stuff we need to handle tonight.”

“Oh,” you’d been looking forward to seeing him again, but you knew that this exact situation was why the two of you had gotten into things in the first place, “okay. Raincheck?”

He nodded, “Yea. Sorry to bail on you.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “No need to apologize,” you stood up from the table and patted his back as you walked behind him, “I’m not your girlfriend, Bish. You don’t have to explain anything to me. Not like you owe me anything,” you leaned down and kissed his temple, “You and the boys be safe out there. Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere, alright?”

A small smile crossed his face for a moment, “Alright.”

He watched as you sauntered off and hopped in your car, driving off without giving it another thought. He hated lying to you, but he thought that maybe if he gave him a few days to cool off and get his mind in order, the feelings would go away too. Maybe he was just thinking too far into it. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to give you up.

A few days passed and you hadn’t heard much from him. You were a little hurt at first, but then you remembered who you were dealing with. He had bigger problems on his plate than budgeting in time to sneak off and hook up with you. It was a little odd only because up until then you two had managed to make things work well and see each other frequently. But it was practically radio silence on his end. You’d text him a couple times a day to make sure he was alright, and his responses were short. You tried to think if you had something to him that would upset him, but nothing was coming to mind.

You parked your car and made your way over to the office, hoping that Chucky would be there and know where the guys were. Bishop had blamed his curtness and inability to see you on club shit, and you were starting to question just how honest he was being with you about it all.

Chucky’s face lit up when you walked into the office, “Y/N, what a pleasure it is to see you.”

You smiled, “Pleasure’s all mine, Chucky,” you drummed your fingers on the counter, “Bishop around?”

“El Presidente?” he nodded, “I believe they had Templo. Might be done by now, though.”

“Thank you. Stay handsome,” you shot him a wink as you walked out of the office and made your way to the clubhouse.

You walked in, scanning over the room to see where everyone was at. Sure enough, you saw Bishop sat at the table with Hank and Taza. The three of them seemed awfully relaxed for a group of men who had apparently been incredibly wrapped up in stressful club shit for the past week. You walked over to the table with a smile, not wanting to make things weird.

“Hey boys,” you rested one hand on Bishop’s shoulder.

“Y/N,” Taza offered you a warm smile, “good to see you. We’ve missed you lately.”

You chuckled, wishing you could see what Bishop’s face looked like, “Yea, sorry, just been a little crazy on my end lately,” you tapped your fingers onto Bishop’s shoulder, “Can I borrow you for a second, Pres? Something I need to talk to you about.”

He cleared his throat, and you could feel his body tense underneath your hand, “Uh, yea, of course,” he stood up and nodded towards Templo, “This way.”

You flashed the other two men a smile and a wave before walking towards the back room, Bishop right on your heels. He slid the door shut behind him and did his best to avoid making direct eye contact with you as the both of you stood there.

“So,” you leaned back against the table, “how are things?”

“Things are…fine,” his eyes were glued to the ground.

“Oh? Are they? I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly heard from you in a week.”

“You said it yourself—I don’t owe you anything.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“What? I thought this was supposed to be no strings attached.”

“Yea, but you’re still my friend. Even before we started hooking up I at least felt like I could have a conversation with you that didn’t feel like I was pulling your fucking teeth,” you waited for him to finally look you in the eyes, “Did I do something? If you don’t wanna hook up with me anymore just say it. Don’t try to ice me out—I deserve better than that. I told you from the jump that we could go back to being friends with no questions asked. I’m not gonna hold it against you if you’re over this whole thing.”

He saw the look on your face and he knew that you meant every word that you said, and it hurt. He didn’t want to admit it, but he didn’t want you to be able to give him up that easily.

After a long minute of silence you spoke up again, “Be real with me, Obispo. Do you still want this?”

He shook his head, “No.”

It stung, but you weren’t going to go back on your promise—you weren’t going to hold it against him, “Alright. That’s all you had to say. We good? I don’t want shit to be weird from here on out,” there was another long stretch of silence and you could feel the frustration bubbling up inside you. you had assumed that Bishop would be able to be a little more mature about the whole thing, especially since he was the one who was breaking it off, but apparently you were wrong. Men really didn’t mature more as they got older. You shook your head, “Fuck, Bish. I really thought that we were going to be able to be adults about this. Sorry I bothered.”

You turned on your heel and made your way towards the door. Before you could grab onto it and slide it open, he finally forced himself to speak up, “Hey, wait.”

You turned with a sigh, “What?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Yea, you made that pretty fucking clear already.”

“No,” he closed the space between you and you could feel the heat radiating off of him, “I mean, I can’t do this with no strings attached. I thought that I could. Honestly, I thought that you were going to be the one that got wrapped up in your feelings.”

You smirked, “Cocky, but continue.”

It got him to smile a little bit, “But I could see it in your eyes that you were true to your word. You were completely detached from everything between us. And I was too, at first. But, fuck, Y/N, somewhere along the way I stopped caring about just the sex. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. But the way I felt when I would see that you were calling me, or when I would hear you walk through my front door when you knew I’d gotten home from a run? I knew that had nothing to do with friendship, or sex. And the way I hated every time you’d get dressed and leave and I knew that you were going back to your own empty bed while I was lying in mine drove me insane. I hate it,” he took a deep breath, “I wasn’t ready to give you up. If the only way for me to have you was like this, then I was willing to do that. But it kills me to know that I want more, and you are content with what we have.”

He threw a lot at you all at once, and your brain was still trying to process it all. The idea of being in a relationship with Bishop had crossed your mind on numerous occasions. You never let it linger though, not when you knew what kind of life he led and the kind of man he was. If you thought that he would’ve been game for a relationship right out the gate you would’ve said something. This was a development that you hadn’t seen coming. The only reason you didn’t get twisted up about your arrangement was because in your mind, there was no alternative. You were either friends who were having sex, or you were just friends. There was never anything on the other side of the spectrum, or at least that’s what you had thought.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you finally asked.

“I am now.”

“Obispo, listen, I don’t think there’s anyone in the world that I respect more than you. You’re my best friend, and these past few months have been insanely fun. I’ve loved being able to spend so much time with you. I like who I am when I’m with you. If you wanted something more you should’ve just said something—we’re both adults. I’d like to think that we could handle that conversation.”

“I didn’t want you to shut me out if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“You really think I’d do that?”

He paused, shaking his head, “No.”

You cupped his face in your hands, “So, what exactly do you want from me, Obispo?”

He rested his hands on top of yours, “I want you to give me a chance to really be your man. All the time, not just on late nights and weekends,” he scooped you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he held you up, “Could you do that for me?”

You laughed, nodding as your hands rested on the back of his neck, “I think I could do that.”

He walked over and set you down on the edge of the table. You unhooked your legs from around him so that he was now standing between them. He leaned in and brought your lips to his. The kiss was soft but still needy, and in that moment you wondered how you hadn’t seen this coming all along.

He rested his forehead against yours, “I don’t think I’d ever be able to give you up.”

You smiled, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your waist, “I don’t think I’d ever ask you to.”

You felt him laugh quietly as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck. You smiled, biting back a giggle as his beard tickled your neck. He kissed your throat gently as he leaned into you. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in close to you, one hand resting gently on the back of his head. A smile crept across your face as you felt him let out a long, relieved sigh as he ran his hands up and down your back.

“Can we go back to your place?” you said after a few minutes of silence between you.

He pulled back and looked at you with a smile, “I’d like that.”

You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, “I’ll even spend the night this time.”

He chuckled, “Oh yea?”

You hopped down off the table and tugged him towards the door, “Yes. You’re in for a long night, Obispo.”

He shook his head with a smile, “I don’t doubt it.”

[sxfik]

and when the seasons change (will you stand by me?)

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: when kang sol's mother has to work late, she has to take care of byeol. it's just her luck that she has an exam the next day, one for professor yang of all people. joon hwi, being the kind classmate he is, offers to study with her.

or: byeol is solhwi mastermind, and she's says everything we wanted to say to the two dummies.

request by anon: hiya! saw that you do solhwi prompts so I was thinking that Sol A has to babysit byeol but there's a big test the next day so she calls joon hwi over to help her w studying. meanwhile byeol(being iconic) tries to set them up in true shipper fashion.

a/n: this is based on a request i got on tumblr, pictured above! i have around 5 (ish) fics that will go out over the week so stay tuned for those lmao! uh yeah, i don't really know what else to say other than im really sad law school ended so i've just been sad and mopey, but still writing to fill that hole. as always, enjoy <333

Although Joon Hwi was the 'star' student of Hankuk Law School, he was never much for studying. It's not because everything came to him that easily, but because finding the strength to concentrate and study when he could be hanging out with his friends or doing anything better with his time was insanely tempting. Finding the effort to get to the library, and read up on his textbooks was arduous and he always found it easier to study by himself, no distractions around. This was, of course, until Kang Sol came along. For Joon Hwi, everything in his life was turned on its axis when she came into his life.

When he first met her, in Professor Yang's class, she was just the poor girl being grilled by the professor. His heart went out to her, watching her pull her hair out of the bun to avoid the question. He didn’t know what possessed him to answer for her, but he assumed it to be a one time thing. But from the moment she crashed into him yelling "Second Round Judicial Exam, save me!", he was stuck on her.

Slowly, she was everywhere in his life, from the study group to the legal clinic to a majority of his classes. Unlike so many of his classmates, who were by the book and generally clinical in personality, she was a fireball of energy and passion. In class, despite not being the best student, she would argue with so much passion and energy that it was impossible to win against her. It was fascinating, watching her connect and jump from case to case. She would throw herself into everything she believed in, which included defending him from the school and his uncle.

Joon Hwi has liked girls before, but he's never been so captivated and head-over-heels for anyone in his life. Love and dating seemed secondary, and he preferred to keep it out of his life until he reached his goals. You could call him selfish but he prefers to call it being focused on his goals. He's always had one goal in life, and it was to work with the law, whether as a judge or working as police or as a prosecutor.

Yet, if Kang Sol was in the room, his eyes were on her. Whether she was frustrated at him or teasing him or gleeful with him, he couldn't help but smile at her. If she was around, he was right by her side, making her laugh or cringe or annoyed.

So there he was, studying in the school library with Kang Sol. Professor Yang’s exam was right around the corner and unlike last time, he cannot miss the comma in the given case. Plus, he doesn’t even have the excuse of being accused of a murder this time, so both Sol and Joon Hwi were hunched over their books, pouring into the texts when Kang Sol’s phone blared loudly from her bag, startling them both.

Sol cringed as she dug around in her cloth bag, the classic dirty looks tossed her way by the sleep deprived students as she stood to leave the library and take the call. He buried himself back into the textbook, but the concentration was lost and he was more interested in the call she’d gotten than ins and outs of defamation laws.

Around 10 minutes later, Sol was speeding back to her chair, the phone clutched firmly in her hand. But Joon hwi could see her frustration from a mile away. Her face held that pout, her eyebrows furrowed and grumbling under her breath. It was adorable.

But he was worried, considering it was the day before the exam, Sol couldn’t afford to be distracted from her studies. He wasn’t blind to her struggles in school, but Joon Hwi never considered her lesser than him for not being able to pick up the concepts with speed.

Unlike him, and a majority of his classmates, she had passion and a heart when dealing with clients. He could see it in her mannerisms with clients in the legal clinic, patiently explaining the clause or the issues they might face to the client. She’s sympathetic to the max, always hearing out the client’s grievances before making a judgement on what they had done. She was exactly what the world needed: a sympathetic, patient lawyer that was willing to fight for the client, someone that they can cling to. He and every professor in the school knew it, but it seemed Sol was the only one who never realized how essential she was.

Suddenly, he felt himself getting up to gather his materials with her without a second thought, despite the confused look Sol shot him. He wasn’t sure what exactly possessed him to do it, but he knew that if she wasn’t there, he didn’t want to study at the library either. Grinning at her, he walked out, side by side until they were outside the quiet library. She paused in her tracks all of a sudden, taking him by surprise and he paused too, looking back at her, tilting his head in confusion.

"My mom needs to work late today, so I need to rush home and take care of Byeol," she looked up at him finally, her face apologetic. "I'm sorry, Joon hwi but I don't think I'll be able to study for the exam with you," she started to walk away, but he couldn't let her go that easily.

"I'll come with you," he offered, surprising himself, "I'll study with you. Plus, it'll be easier to take care of Byeol with two people than one, right?"

She paused, looking back at him, conflicted. Sighing, Joon Hwi stepped closer to her. "Come on, let's not keep her waiting. Shall we?" He was determined to keep her company, especially since she’d have less time to study since she’d have to take care of Byeol. It was easier this way, and I’d do this for any friend he told himself.

The ride there was slow and quiet, but not an uncomfortable one. They both walked in tandem, with their backpacks filled with everything they'd possibly need to study, and even the bus ride was peaceful, the two of them staring out the window, watching the scenery pass by them. Joon hwi sat beside her, rather than across from her like last time, just to save space on the bus. On the very empty bus they were riding together.

Days like this, where the air was heavy and humid, the earth preparing for a heavy rain, were the most comforting types of days. The air was still warm and humid, making Sol’s hair poof out slightly, her naturally wavy hair frizzing out of her bun. The feeling of her beside him, as if this was a regular ritual for both of them, brought a sense of content in his heart. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, whether it was the girl beside him or the past year’s chaos, but watching the trees and the traffic pass by them brought more peace to his life than ever.

The two made their way into the alleyway, where Joon hwi had once stood guard of when Lee Man Ho once lived, threatening her family. He's standing in front of Kang Sol's house behind her, holding her backpack in hand as she struggles with the keys.

Finally, finally, she gets the door open, and a figure zips by, crashing into Sol. Byeol’s arms wrapped Sol's waist, like the adorable sister she is. Sol stumbled back into him slightly at the sudden weight thrown onto her, but nonetheless, crouched to envelop her sister in a bone-crushing hug. Joon hwi couldn’t help but smile at the two sisters, their love for each other enveloping him

"Unnie!" she grinned up at her, "Did you bring him with you?" Her eyes were serious and wide as Sol opened her mouth to answer.

"Byeol-ah!" Joon hwi yelled out from behind Sol, peaking out to see the 8-year old grinning at him, much wider than she did at Sol. Ha!

"Joonhwi-oppa!" the girl squealed out, leaving Sol's grip to run to him. As she ran to him, he picked her up and twirled her in the air, the girl's giggles echoing through the small alleyway as the two greeted each other.

Sol, standing by the door, smiled faintly before calling out, "Come in, before either of you catch a cold!" Both of them filed in, incessantly chattering as if they hadn't seen each other in months, even though it had only been two weeks since Joon hwi had been by to take the two sisters out to the park.

"Oppa! Why did you come with Unnie?" Byeol asked, finally being set down inside the house, looking up at him curiously as Sol

"Ah, we have an exam tomorrow, so I'm here to study with her," Joon hwi replied.

"Good," the girl jumped onto the couch. "Unnie needs a lot of help," the girl quipped back, nodding her head solemnly, making her look a lot older than 8 years.

"Yah Kang Byeol!" Sol exclaimed, indignantly. Joon hwi chuckled at the two as Sol turned to him. "Here, we can work in the dining room," she moved to grab her backpack from him, stepping towards the dining room.

"NO!" Byeol yelled out at the both of them, her hand flying out to stop the two of them, "Unnie, you should work in your room instead! You know I'll be watching TV and obviously, it'd be too loud for you to focus," the girl rushed out, her doe-eyes a bit too wide, her voice a little too innocent. She is definitely plotting something, Joon hwi narrowed his eyes at her but she avoided the look, choosing to jump off the couch and walk towards them instead.

Before either of them could protest, the girl pushed the both of them towards, presumably, Kang Sol's bedroom. Sol awkwardly laughed at him, Joon hwi shooting her an amused look. They awkwardly stood in her room, Joon hwi avoiding her gaze and choosing to look at the walls instead. Her room here looked similar to the one she had back on campus. Her desk was stacked to the max, sticky notes lining the walls with old reminders and little notes of encouragement. It was neat, but brightly colored, which suited Sol so very well.

“Let’s get started shall we?” Sol finally said, clearing her throat, gesturing for him to set down his books. He obliged, sitting at her desk while she chose her bed. They both set up all their materials, the awkward silence shifting into a peaceful one, the two working themselves into a comfortable rhythm.

It had been almost an hour of straight studying, both of them regurgitating criminal codes and case precedents from memory. Joon hwi was sure that by this point that his mind was complete mush, and Sol was starting to wither, her eyes almost glazed over while she started into one of her casefiles. Her hair was a lot puffier than it was when they started. Turns out, Sol had a habit of ruffling her hair with her pencil each time she was confused or working herself too hard, which was often.

“Let’s take a break shall we? I’m going to get a glass of water,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms out, trying to put the two out of their misery. He yawned, the stiffness in his muscles finally noticeable when he stretched out. She nodded back to him, yawning and stretching out in her chair, before she picked up her phone to check some messages.

He walked out of her room and back to the living room, where byeol was still glued to her seat, her eyes on the TV playing some cartoon. Heading over to the dining table, he poured himself a glass of water with the pitcher, before heading back to check on Byeol.

“What’s this show called?” he asked her, taking a sip of the water while watching the show with her.

“Hm?” Byeol turned to him, “Oh, it’s this show about two kids who set out to find a treasure mapped out by their parents,” she explained, gesturing towards him to take a seat beside him. He obliged, opting to sit beside the girl, both their eyes glued to the screen. A few moments passed by, before the little girl turned towards him.

“You know, my sister’s favorite color is dark green. Not like emerald green, but forest green tinted with some dark blue,” Byeol said nonchalantly. Joon Hwi’s eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why the girl is telling this to him. “And, her favorite ice cream is this nutella infused one that you get down the street, closer to the town square. It’s been her favorite since she was little,” she continued, not giving his confusion any heed. The girl rapidly started telling him facts about her dear sister, all the while confusion took over his features.

“Joonhwi-oppa,” she squinted at him, pausing as her face grew serious, “You like my sister, don’t you?” He sputtered, choking and coughing out the water. “I knew it!” she excitedly squealed.

“Byeol, byeol, shh, you can’t let your sister know okay,” he brought a finger to his lips, his eyes alarmed. For an 8 year old, Byeol was surprisingly cunning and observant. She had managed to figure out what he had been struggling with for the past year after just a few short visits. They shared a look of understanding between the two, before the girl turned her attention to the show, leaving Joon Hwi walking back to Sol’s room. The Kang Sisters,  he shook his head, laughing as he thought, what a perfect duo.

bonus

It had been almost 3 hours of studying together before Kang Sol realized that the sun had set outside, and all of a sudden, they were in a rush to clean up. Joon hwi had to leave before the dorms closed entrance and because of their studying, the two of them had their head buried in books since the time they got to her house.

She was glad to have him over though. Despite her hesitation at the school and fears of inconveniencing him, having Joon hwi made the process a lot smoother. With his careful and gentle help, she had a much easier time understanding the concepts and she was eternally grateful, considering Professor Yang’s exams were always some of the toughest.

They were rushing out of the house, his backpack in her hand as he hurriedly put on his shoes and stepped outside the house. But before Joon hwi could turn with a hurried goodbye, she called out to him, her breath suddenly lodged in her throat.

“Thank you,” she quietly told him, the prospect of looking into his eyes as he leaned over her doorstep daunting. “Thank you for helping me, Joon hwi, it was really kind of you,” she beamed at him, trying to convey her gratitude and more in the only way she knew possible.

They both paused, looking at each other as the air got thicker between them, as if a string was drawing him closer to her. She watched as he swallowed slightly, his adam’s apple moving slightly before he let out a soft “You’re welcome,” and a classic smile, before he rushed out, trying to catch his bus.

She sighed, watching him as he rushed off, capturing the bus. Soon, she thought, Soon, I’ll tell him how I feel. She reassured herself, turning around only to find Byeol hiding behind a pillar.

“Byeol? What are you doing, weren’t you watching a show?” she questioned her sister, but Byeol made no response. Suddenly her sister frowned at her, muttering something about how can she possibly be a lawyer and she’s so blind, leaving her in utter confusion at the front steps.

[enderspawn]

It's alright if u don't wanna answer this cuz this argument gets people really riled up but do you think c!Techno is a tyrant or nah?

Cuz many c!techno apologists argue that he isn't just cuz he's an anarchist but I've also read a lot of essays that go against it and it'd be really interesting to see ur opinion on this

i think he, in some contexts, can most definitely be called tyrannical, yes. a tyrant? no.

to avoid spamming ppl w discourse we've all def heard before (and bc this ended up MASSIVE (like 2.3k ish), but fairly in depth bc i didnt wanna speak out of bad faith and wanted to be EXPLICTLY clear-- oops), the rest will be under readmore

so heres the thing i want to preface: i used to really LOVE c!techno. i joined beginning of s2, right when exile started, and he was arguably my favorite character. since then though i've fallen out with him a LOT, to the point i almost... actively despite him at times (though mainly in a toxic kind of way which i can acknowledge is flawed).

in short, his actions started to speak louder than his words and i lost investment in his personal character struggles because of the actions he took (doomsday was my breaking point. i get feeling angry and betrayed, as well as seeking revenge against lmanberg, but his actions went too far for me to CARE and it hurt so many more characters as well.)

so when i speak, i come from a place of disliking him but also somewhat understanding the position c!techno apologists come from: i used to be one of them myself.

NOW, do i think he's a tyrant? no. for reference in my analysis, i try to look up the definition of terms to make sure they are utilized properly. while "tyranny" and "tyrannical" can have multiple uses, tyrant itself is a more specific term. to combine the top two definitions, a tyrant is referring to "an extremely oppressive, unjust, or cruel absolute ruler (who governs without restrictions, especially one who seized power illegally.)"

techno's position as an anarchist, imo, DOES indeed make him unable to be a tyrant. tyrants are rulers with very clear power over others from a structural way. anarchists are about the lack of structure or power over others and instead viewing the people around you as equals in power.

in forming the syndicate, they very explicitly worked to not designate a leader and instead make it so that no one would have any power over the others systemically. techno may have taken a integral role, yes, but it doesn't make him suddenly "the leader", its a role that wouldve had to be filled by someone (even if it was democratic to decide who to invite, they'd need someone to hand over the invite itself yknow? like no matter WHAT there needed to be A ROLE)

one could argue that he IS a leader in the shadow hierarchy of the syndicate (which, yes, is a real and professional term used in management courses despite sounding like it comes from a 4kids yugioh dub) in that everyone CONSIDERS and looks to him a leader without him having any actual structural basis behind it, but to argue that allows him to be a tyrant is in bad faith i believe. especially because to the people he would be "ruling", he ISNT oppressive, unjust, or cruel. they are his friends and support network and critical for a lot of his personal development (since feelings of betrayal and trust issues are critical to his character and why he acts the way he does). I wish we were able to SEE this develop more, but oh well.

but like i said: tyrant is fairly specific in definition. TYRANNY, and thus TYRANNICAL are not as limited. I've discussed their definitions here. originally, i made that post because i was angry at a take i had seen that claimed that, like you said, because techno was an anarchist and not part of any government or leadership position, he couldn't be tyrannical. to which i heartily disagree.

for something to be tyrannical, they simply must have an overarching/oppressive power over someone or something. it would not be inaccurate if i were to say that something is "under the tyranny" of a concept, because what it means is that something is under the power of another thing/concept. you can frankly call anything tyranny if it is widespread/overarching and you don't like it. mask mandates? tyranny, its forcing me to act in "rigorous condition". hell, theres even such things as tyranny of the majority in which people agree too much on one thing and it gives them unfair power or tyranny of the minority where people with minority opinions have too much power (thats a very grossly oversimplified definition of both, but it covers the base idea well enough for my point)

the point im making above isnt meant to be taken as "anything can be worked to be defined as tyranny thus it is a meaningless claim", it is that tyranny (and again, thus tyrannical) are very open and nonrestrictive terms.

to make it easier to define, alongside the definitions provided i want to add an explicit clause that is (imo) implied in the original definition: tyranny is... well, bad. that is to say if someone has power over a group but literally everyone is fine with it and agrees to it, its not tyranny. thats just a group of people getting along and one happens to have power over another. a leader does NOT equal a tyrant (as discussed above), so leadership should not be equated with tyranny.

thus as an example: wilbur acting as president (before the election) may have been "unelected" with power over his citizens, but no one was upset with that power. thus, he is not a tyrant and not acting tyrannically (as well as the fact his power was, arguably, NOT rigourous or absolute but thats another topic for another time). SCHLATT however IS a tyrant, as his power was absolute (he did not consult his cabinet) and forced people to comply instead of them complying willingly, thus he was acting tyrannically.

now to finally get to the damn point of this essay: where does c!techno lie? honest answer? it depends slightly on your perspective, but it depends a LOT on the future of the syndicate.

techno is incredibly clear in his goals: no governments, no corruption. in fighting with pogtopia, he is actively working to topple a tyranny-- he isn't tyrannical for doing that.

when he strikes out on nov 16th, it is because he opposes them forming a new government. when they oppose him and disagree, he launches an attack against them. is this tyranny? maybe, but probably not. he IS trying to impose his own physical strength and power (as well as his resources) over the others to stop them from doing what HE doesn't want them to do.

however its more nuanced than that:

1. hes lashing out emotionally as well as politically. he feels betrayed by those he trusted and he believed that they would destroy the government then go (i'm ignoring any debates on if he did or did not know that they planned another government, though it is a source of debate). but typically idk about you but i dont call tyranny for someone fighting with another person.

2. he also may be acting with good intent again, in HIS EYES. if tubbo was part of manburg, whos to say he wont be just as bad? he, in his pov, is likely trying to stop another tyrant before they rise.

3. and finally, and tbh the most damning from any perspective: he gives up. he quickly leaves then RETIRES without intent to try and attack again until he is later provoked. tyranny is defined by it not just being power, but power being USED. if he doesn't use his power to try and impose any will, then he's not tyrannical.

Doomsday I am also not going to touch very in depth on for much of the same reasons. My answer is again a "maybe", depending on the weight you personally place on each issue:

1. he's lashing out as revenge for the butcher army and as revenge against tommy for "betraying" him (though this one we explicitly know he was ignoring the fact tommy did not want to go through with it, however he still did trust and respect tommy regardless so his feelings are understandable anyway)

2. he sees new lmanberg as corrupt and tyrannical (which is undeniable: house arrest for noncompliance, exile without counsel, execution without trial, etc), and thus obligated to destroy it

but also, theres the implicit understanding he's doing this to send a message: do not form a government, or else. its a display of force that also works to warn others unless they want a similar fate. phil even explicitly states that he is doing so to send that message, so one could assume techno is doing the same alongside his personal reasoning listed above.

what i just described is the use of a oppressive and harsh (physical) power in order to gain compliance from people (that compliance being 'not making a government'). does that sound familiar? exactly. it follows the definition(s) of tyranny given previously. technoblade is acting in a way that is, by very definition, tyrannical.

so the debate shifts: is he valid in doing so because he is trying to PREVENT corruption and tyranny. like i said, new lmanberg was undeniably corrupt at points. i held nothing against techno for trying to topple manburg, so does that apply to new lmanberg as well? short answer: i dont know. it depends on your specific opinion of what is acceptable. its like the paradox of tolerance: to have a truly tolerant society, you have to be intolerant of intolerance. to have a truly non-tyrannical society, do you need to have a tyranny enforcing it?

personally (and bc im a lmanberg loyalist /hj) i say it is. regardless of the corruption of new lmanberg, they are also giving a threat to EVERYONE. even those who are innocent, they are presented with the exact same threat and rule set: if you make a government, you will be destroyed.

(which, small divergence here, is part of why debating c!techno is so frustrating. so many times you end up hitting a "well it depends on your political views" situation and there ISNT a correct answer there. im here to analyze characters for fun, not debate political theory)

so: the syndicate then. this is where this debate really "took off" and i think its due to one very specific miscommunication about its goals and plans. the syndicate, upon formation, declares itself to stand against corruption and tyranny. when they are found, the syndicate would work to destroy it. so heres the golden question: what do THEY define as corruption and tyranny? if you were to go off c!techno's previous statements, seemingly "any government" is a valid answer. however, he also states he's fine with people just being in groups together hanging together.

what then DEFINES A GOVERNMENT for them? what lines do they have to sort out what does "deserve to be destroyed" and what does "deserve to exist freely"

this is a hypothetical i like to post when it comes to syndicate discourse:

i have a group of people. lets say 5 or so for example. they all live together and build together. any decisions made that would impact the entire group they make together and they must have a unanimous agreement in order to proceed, but otherwise they are free to be their own people and do their own thing. when you ask them, they tell you they are their own nation and they have a very clearly defined government: they are a direct democracy. does the syndicate have an obligation to attack?

there is absolutely no hierarchy present. there is no corruption present. but, they ARE indeed a government. is that then inherently negative? my answer is fuck no (see the whole "difference between a tyrant and a leader" thing above).

but THATS where the issue of this discourse LIES. in some people's eyes, the answer to that is YES. techno's made it clear "no government" is his personal view, but does that spread to the syndicate as a whole? do they act preemptively in case it DOES become corrupt? is it inherently corrupt because its a government, regardless of how it is ruled? the fact of the matter is because of how little we've seen the syndicate work as a SYNDICATE, we don't know that answer. so we're left to debate and speculate HOW they would act.

if the syndicate were to let that government exist, then they are not tyrannical. they are showing that they are working to stop tyranny and corruption, just like in pogtopia again.

if the syndicate were to destroy/attack that government, then they are tyrannical. simple as that. they are enforcing a rule of their own creation without any nuance or flexibility under the threat of absolute destruction.

miscommunication in debates comes, in my opinion, in the above. of course theres more points of nuance. for example:

would the syndicate allow a government like i had described with early lmanberg, where there is an established hierarchy but everyone in the country consents to said leadership? on one hand, there is no tyranny or corruption present which is what they are trying to work against. on the other hand, theres more a possibility of it occuring. perhaps they'd find a middle road between the two binary options of "leave or destroy" i am presenting, such as checking in occasionally to ensure no corruption occurs.

but if they were to destroy it without, for lack of a better word, "giving it a chance" they would be, in my opinion, tyrannical. they would be going aginst their words of opposing corruption and instead abusing their power to gain compliance.

your/others opinions may differ, again it depends on if you see it as worth it to possibly stop future tyranny or if a hierarchy is INHERENTLY a negative thing.

part of the reason so many blog gave up this debate, beyond not getting very clear answers for the syndicate, is because of the nuance present. there. is. no. right. answer. every single person will view it differently, because there is no universally agreed upon truth of right or wrong here. BUT, i hope this helps shed some light on the discussion and my thoughts on it

[fuckyeahtx]

Letters From An American

Today in Fuck Abbott and the GQP Harder Than Ever Before Welcome to Fucking Gilead Edition

September 1, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Last night at midnight, a new law went into effect in Texas. House Bill 1927 permits people to carry handguns without a permit, unless they have been convicted of a felony or domestic violence. This measure was not popular in the state. Fifty-nine percent of Texans—including law enforcement officers—opposed it. But 56% of Republicans supported it. “I don’t know what it’s a solution to,” James McLaughlin, executive director of the Texas Police Chiefs Association, said to Heidi Pérez-Moreno of the Texas Tribune when Republican governor Greg Abbott signed the bill in mid-August. “I don’t know what the problem was to start with.”

Texas Gun Rights executive director Chris McNutt had a different view. He said in a statement: “Texas is finally a pro-gun state despite years of foot-dragging, roadblocks, and excuses from the spineless political class.”

The bill had failed in 2019 after McNutt showed up at the home of the Texas House Speaker, Republican Dennis Bonnen, to demand its passage. Bonnen said McNutt’s “overzealous” visit exhibited “insanity.” "Threats and intimidation will never advance your issue. Their issue is dead," he told McNutt. McNutt told the Dallas Morning News: "If politicians like Speaker Dennis Bonnen think they can show up at the doorsteps of Second Amendment supporters and make promises to earn votes in the election season, they shouldn't be surprised when we show up in their neighborhoods to insist they simply keep their promises in the legislative session.”

That was not the only bill that went into effect at midnight last night in Texas. In May, Governor Abbott signed the strongest anti-abortion law in the country, Senate Bill 8, which went into effect on September 1. It bans abortion after 6 weeks—when many women don’t even know they’re pregnant—thus automatically stopping about 85% of abortions in Texas. There are no exceptions for rape or incest. Opponents of the bill had asked the Supreme Court to stop the law from taking effect. It declined to do so.

The law avoided the 1973 Supreme Court Roe v. Wade decision protecting the right to abortion before fetal viability at about 22 to 24 weeks by leaving the enforcement of the law not up to the state, but rather up to private citizens. This was deliberate. As Dahlia Lithwick and Mark Joseph Stern explained in an article in Slate: “Typically, when a state restricts abortion, providers file a lawsuit in federal court against the state officials responsible for enforcing the new law. Here, however, there are no such officials: The law is enforced by individual anti-abortion activists.” With this law, there’s no one to stop from enforcing it.

S.B. 8 puts ordinary people in charge of law enforcement. Anyone—at all—can sue any individual who “aids or abets,” or even intends to abet, an abortion in Texas after six weeks. Women seeking abortion themselves are exempt, but anyone who advises them (including a spouse), gives them a ride, provides counseling, staffs a clinic, and so on, can be sued by any random stranger. If the plaintiff wins, they pocket $10,000 plus court costs, and the clinic that provided the procedure is closed down. If the defendant doesn’t defend themselves, the court must find them guilty. And if the defendant wins, they get…nothing. Not even attorney’s fees.

So, nuisance lawsuits will ruin abortion providers, along with anyone accused of aiding and abetting—or intending to abet—an abortion. And the enforcers will be ordinary citizens.

Texas has also just passed new voting restrictions that allow partisan poll watchers to have “free movement” in polling places, enabling them to intimidate voters. Texas governor Greg Abbott is expected to sign that bill in the next few days.

Taken together with the vigilantism running wild in school board meetings and attacks on election officials, the Texas legislation is a top red flag in the red flag factory. The Republican Party is empowering vigilantes to enforce their beliefs against their neighbors.

The law, which should keep us all on a level playing field, has been abandoned by our Supreme Court. Last night, it refused to stop the new Texas abortion law from going into effect, and tonight, just before midnight, by a 5–4 vote, it issued an opinion refusing to block the law. Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s dissent read: “The court’s order is stunning. Presented with an application to enjoin a flagrantly unconstitutional law engineered to prohibit women from exercising their constitutional rights and evade judicial scrutiny, a majority of Justices have opted to bury their heads in the sand.”

Texas’s law flouts nearly 50 years of federal precedents, she points out, but the Supreme Court has looked the other way. ”The State’s gambit worked,” Sotomayor wrote. She continued: “This is untenable. It cannot be the case that a state can evade federal judicial scrutiny by outsourcing the enforcement of unconstitutional laws to its citizenry."

The Supreme Court has essentially blessed the efforts of Texas legislators to prevent the enforcement of federal law by using citizen vigilantes to get their way. The court decided the case on its increasingly active “shadow docket,” a series of cases decided without full briefings or oral argument, often in the dead of night, without signed opinions. In the past, such emergency decisions were rare and used to issue uncontroversial decisions or address irreparable immediate harm (like the death penalty). Since the beginning of the Trump administration, they have come to make up the majority of the court’s business.

Since 2017, the court has used the shadow docket to advance right-wing goals. It has handed down brief, unsigned decisions after a party asks for emergency relief from a lower court order, siding first with Trump, and now with state Republicans, at a high rate. As University of Texas law professor Stephen Vladeck noted: “In less than three years, [Trump’s] Solicitor General has filed at least twenty-one applications for stays in the Supreme Court (including ten during the October 2018 Term alone).” In comparison, “during the sixteen years of the George W. Bush and Obama Administrations, the Solicitor General filed a total of eight such applications—averaging one every other Term.”

So, operating without open arguments or opinions, the Supreme Court has shown that it will not enforce federal law, leaving state legislatures to do as they will. This, after all, was the whole point of the “originalism” that Republicans embraced under President Ronald Reagan. Originalists wanted to erase the legal justification of the post–World War II years that used the “due process” and “equal protection” clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment to apply the protections of the Bill of Rights to the states. It was that concept that protected civil rights for people of color and for women, by using the federal government to prohibit states from enforcing discriminatory laws.

Since the 1980s, Republicans have sought to hamstring federal power and return power to the states, which have neither the power nor the inclination to regulate businesses effectively, and which can discriminate against minorities and get away with it, so long as the federal government doesn’t enforce equal protection.

Today’s events make that a reality.

Worse, though, the mechanisms of the Texas law officially turn a discriminatory law over to state-level vigilantes to enforce. The wedge to establish this mechanism is abortion, but the door is now open for extremist state legislatures to turn to private citizens to enforce any law that takes away an individual’s legal right…like, say, the right to vote. And in Texas, now, a vigilante doesn't even have to have a permit to carry the gun that will back up his threats.

During Reconstruction, vigilantes also carried guns. They enforced state customs that reestablished white supremacy after the federal government had tried to defend equality before the law. It took only a decade for former Confederates who had tried to destroy the government to strip voting rights, and civil rights, from the southern Black men who had defended the United States government during the Civil War. For the next eighty years, the South was a one-party state where enforcement of the laws depended on your skin color, your gender, and whom you knew.

Opponents have compared those who backed the Texas anti-abortion law to the Taliban, the Islamic extremists in Afghanistan whose harsh interpretation of Islamic Sharia law strips women of virtually all rights. But the impulse behind the Texas law, the drive to replace the federal protection of civil rights with state vigilantes enforcing their will, is homegrown. It is a reflection of the position that Republicans would like women to have in our society, for sure, but it is also written in the laughing faces of Mississippi law enforcement officers Lawrence Rainey and Cecil Ray Price in 1967, certain even as they were arraigned for the 1964 murders of James Earl Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Henry Schwerner, that the system was so rigged in their favor that they would literally get away with murder.

When they were killed, Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner were trying to register Black people to vote.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction | One Last Time [Request]

A/N: This song makes me sob every time I hear it. For those who do not know this is One Last Time by Ariana grande. This was requested by @wadedanvers Hope this is okay for you 

Seokjin: She gives you everything but boy I couldn’t give it to you

You watched as Jin and his girlfriend walked around the floor below you, they'd just revealed their engagement at their party and now they were walking around to greet people. You were standing beside Namjoon on the top floor as you looked down wondering if you could get out without being seen by them but it was too late, they were already on the only staircase to get down or up and they were walking in your direction with smiles on their faces. You faked the biggest smile you could manage and looked at Namjoon who was smiling along with you,

"Be nice." He mumbled making sure you were on your best behaviour and you nodded looking at Jin and smiling harder.

"You look amazing." You said to his girlfriend who was hugging you tightly, Namjoon knew about your true feelings for Jin but kept it a secret knowing you didn't want anyone knowing about what was happening in our mind and heart. To everyone on the outside you were a cold-hearted person with no feelings but on the side, you were a sap and a sucker for love.

"Thank you, you do too." You thanked her and turned to look at Namjoon pleading with him in silence about leaving but he wasn't going to leave just yet you'd only just gotten there.

"How about we go and get some drinks," Namjoon said to Jin's bride-to-be leaving you both alone, you looked off over the balcony not wanting to look at Jin, every time you looked at him you felt hurt and you knew it was your fault for never telling him how you felt but it was hard. Hard to admit your true feelings for someone you were so close with, someone who wouldn't like you back.

"You quiet." You laughed nervously looking over at the bar to see Namjoon taking his time,

"I'm always quiet." Jin laughed,

"Normally I can't shut you up." He knew you too well, after 17 years of friendship it was a good thing that he knew you too well but not tonight. Tonight of all nights you had to stay silent, you didn't want to make his life unhappy you had to be happy for him. Besides she could give him everything that you couldn't give to him,

"I'm just happy for you Jin, I'm just a little shocked that's all. We normally tell each other everything," You told him feeling hurt that he didn't even tell you he was planning on proposing.

"It was a spur of the moment thing, I just realised tonight I could never let her go." You turned to look at him and he looked truly happy.

"I'm glad you're happy Jin." You hugged him and buried your head into his blazer,

"Careful, anyone would think this is our last goodbye." You hummed and looked to see Namjoon walking over,

"I'm going home, I forgot that I have work tomorrow." You left without another word and headed home not wanting to see anyone else for the rest of the night. Namjoon would only tell you off for making it so obvious and Jin would only wonder what was wrong with you and demand an answer until he got to the truth and the truth wasn't good for anyone.

Yoongi: ~You got everything but I got nothing here without you

You clapped from the sidelines as BTS won another award, you were watching them give their speeches one by one and then collected their microphones from them as they all came off the stage,

"Great as always guys." You said to them all as they handed you their microphones, then it came to Yoongi and you fell silent. Taking their microphones you went to lock them up for the night and then get ready to do a final stage check and go home, you'd been working for BigHit as long as Yoongi had and when you first started you were dating. Continuing to date despite the clause in his contract that denied it, but the relationship ended and that was it.

"Can we talk?" You jumped hearing someone behind you and you turned around to see Yoongi standing there,  

"W-What about?" You stuttered looking around to make sure no one was watching you both but no one was around since the venue was closing the rest of the boys had probably all gone back to the dorms already.

"Us." You stared down at the floor,

"There isn't an 'us' anymore Yoongi," You told him as you walked back over to the backstage part and began packing everything into your van ready to bring it all back out for their next performance tomorrow,

"I know...That's why I wanted to talk about it." You stared at him wondering why it was so important to talk about it now, a year after the relationship ended and he wanted to bring it all back up now.

"Yoongi-"

"No, please...Let's just talk." You sat down on a seat and he sat across from you, you remembered the night it happened clearly. He was trying to talk to you calmly about it like he is now and then he exploded, talking about how you were holding him back from his true potential and he couldn't do anything while you were there.

"I'm sorry for everything I said that night, I never meant anything I said to you, you know that right?" You'd tried to understand that logic but it was hard to comprehend when he was off living his dream with everything he ever wanted while he was the only thing you wanted and you were left with nothing without him there.

"I took this year to focus on what I wanted-" He started and you stared at him wanting him to finish but he was staring into your eyes which was making you nervous,

"And?"

"And I realised you were everything I wanted, I didn't want everything else...It's you." You scoffed at him telling him not to be stupid, music was his dream, of course, that was what he wanted.

"But the music is nothing if I don't have someone to enjoy it with every day." He took your hand in his and stared at them, he'd missed being able to hold you and kiss you.

"Yoongi-"

"No, you don't have to say anything now just think on it. I know what I did hurt you but I'm hoping that over time I can prove that I want you and the music in my life, I can't have one without the other." You let him finish before you crashed your lips against his, smiling as you felt the same fireworks exploding around you as you did before and then relaxing once his hands cupped your face and pulled you closer to him.

Hoseok:~ I need to be the one who takes you home

Hoseok had been crushing on you for years, you were best friends since you were kids but now you were too close for him to ever reveal his feelings.

"Hobi? You okay?" You asked as you waved your hand in front of his face. The answer to the question was no he wasn't okay, he hated the fact that you had brought someone else to his birthday party with you and that his arm was linked around your waist. He was sick of seeing you with different guys, for once he'd just wished he could be the one that got to take you home after a long night, to care for you and make sure you were okay rather than the ones you were with

"Perfect," He lied, he'd gotten used to lying to you by now he'd been doing it for years, watching you be with other people instead of him and pretending to be happy for you.

"Namjoon and the guys are all at the bar, go have a drink." You kissed him on the cheek and whispered,

"Happy Birthday," In his ear and walked away from him giving him flashbacks to all his other birthdays when you would do that and he would pray that somehow it would lead to more than a kiss on the cheek.

He'd been watching you the whole night, watching how you slowly went from being the happiest person in the room to the saddest as you watched your date making out with someone that wasn't you.

"Y/n?" You wiped your face and faked a smile in front of Hoseok but he knew you too well to know when you were faking a smile and when it was real,

"I'll take you home." He whispered taking your hand in his and walking you out of the club and out towards some taxis that were waiting to take people home.

"Hobi I can take myself-"

"Let me take you home," You nodded in agreement and got into the cab with him in silence, laying your head on his shoulder and trying not to think about the awful night you had just had.

(X)

"It's your birthday, you should be out enjoying your party." You said as Hoseok spoon-fed you another scoop of ice cream making you giggle as it hit your teeth,

"I prefer this." He smiled looking at you and eating some of the ice cream himself, you hadn't had a birthday like this together in a while and it felt nice to be alone together once again.

"Why do you date people like that?" He asked looking at you, you stared at the ice cream tub in thought and shrugged your shoulders,

"I can't get who I really want so I just accept whoever comes along?" He stared at you,

"Who do you want?"

"You." You whispered, maybe it was the alcohol in your system giving you the boost of courage or maybe it was just because you were sick of bottling it all up but it was all coming out now.

"You like me too?"

"Too?" You questioned your mouth dropping open as he said that to you,

"You like me?" You asked looking at him, the ice cream tub was pushed to the side of the counter and he dragged you over to him, kissing you roughly and pulling you as close to him as he could manage.

"Does that answer your question?" He smirked kissing you again, your hands linked into his hair and you smiled against his lips as you felt his hands exploring your body, it was all you ever wanted.

Namjoon:~ Stay with minute I swear I’ll make it worth it

Namjoon was standing at the bar with his new girlfriend while you stayed with Jin at the other side of the bar, you didn't know what to do in this situation so you just acted as though you were friends. Which is what you were but somehow it felt worse, you'd had a friends with benefits arrangement going on with Namjoon for years and he gave it all up for someone else, someone better than you. No one knew about the arrangement except you and Namjoon, if anyone else knew about it Namjoon would have been dead especially since Jin was your older brother and would have killed him on the spot for even looking at you in a way he didn't approve of.

"Hi Namjoon, you remember Y/n right?" You acted as though you hadn't seen each other in a while as Jin reintroduced you again. The arrangement you had with Namjoon was such a secret no one could know you were even friends, he didn't want to risk anyone putting two and two together.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you again." He shook your hand and you nodded in agreement looking at the girl he was with, you'd seen her photos on his phone before when he was showing you to her after a night with you. You felt a pang of jealously in your chest as you noticed his arm wrapped around her waist instead of yours, he'd always expressed his distaste for skinship in public.

"You alright? You look a little pale?" The girl asked holding out her hands to you, you nodded at her and smiled softly not wanting to show your true feelings.

"Just a little sick, excuse me." You rushed off to the bathrooms and locked yourself in there, not wanting to come out until the party was over with but there was a knock on the door that interrupted you you stayed silent in fear that it was her coming to check on you,

"Y/n, it's Namjoon." You slowly opened the door and he pushed his way inside cupping your face in his hands and tilting it side to side to check that you were okay,

"What are you doing? Get off me." You mumbled moving away from him and going over to the sink,

"You said you were sick." You laughed at him and he stared at you,

"I'm fine. I just saw something I didn't like." He knew what you meant by that and he stared at you, you stared down at the sink not wanting to talk about it but you heard the door lock which made you look up.

"Namjoon?" He stared at you with a raised eyebrow,

"What?" He questioned looking at you, he leant against the tiled wall and he looked through his phone,

"Just stay with me a minute, I swear I'll make it worth it... That was the last text I got from you when we broke it off. Make it worth it." You walked over to him and dropped to your knees staring up at him with tears in your eyes,

"I don't want that." He mumbled dropping down in front of you, but you were crying not getting ready to pleasure him you just wanted to see him for one final goodbye,

"I just wanted to say goodbye properly." You whispered and he wiped the tears from under your eyes, you stared into his eyes searching for any sign that he cared and he sighed at you.

"We can't be together, you know that." You sniffled and he leant his forehead against yours kissing you on the lips softly,

"If it wasn't for Jin..." He started and you looked at him, wanting him to finish. Needing to hear those words from him,

"If it wasn't for Jin being your brother you know I would love you back but I can't-" You nodded and kissed him one last time, pulling back and smiling sadly at him.

"I love you." You whispered getting up from the floor, you checked your appearance in the mirror before walking out to find a well needed and strong drink to help you through the night.

Jimin:~ I don’t care if you got her in your heart all I care is you wake up in my arms

You were dancing around the dance floor with Jungkook when Jimin first spotted you, you locked eyes from across the room and you felt a jolt of sadness rush through your body. Jungkook promised you Jimin wouldn't be here tonight yet here he was,

"Jungkook you promised," He looked around to see what you were talking about when his eyes fell onto Jimin, he wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be at home with his girlfriend instead of in a club watching you and Jungkook dance together in a carefree manner. It had taken you months to get over your heartbreak with Jimin and now he was here it was bringing it all crashing back down to you,

"Just ignore him," You felt Jungkook slip his hands around your waist and he began dancing against you, you tried to listen to the music but your eyes kept wandering over to Jimin so Jungkook pulled you closer and whispered in your ear,

"Close your eyes and sway." You felt a tingle rush down your back at how close he was to you and you obeyed him, closing your eyes and letting your hips just swing in time to the music, if anyone looked at you it would just look like a couple dancing together.

"What are you doing with Jungkook?" Jimin asked a couple of hours later, he'd stayed behind to make sure you and Jungkook weren't going off together.

"Why do you care?" You asked looking at him, he stared down at you and noticed how intoxicated you were,

"I'm texting Jungkook that I'm taking you home." You followed him out of the club and into his car and sat and stared out of the window in silence. You knew after the year you'd spent with Jimin there was no use fighting him on anything because he would get his own way no matter what.

"What is your problem? Huh? You're acting like a child." He said as he drove you home, you stared out of the window not wanting to talk about it. You'd talked about it before and that's how you ended up heartbroken and felt as though your world was crashing around you. He pulled up outside your house and you struggled to get out of the car and walk over to your door so he walked behind you so you wouldn't get hurt, he wanted to make sure you were home okay.

"Why are you doing this?" You questioned as he walked you up to your bedroom, laying you down on the bed and taking off your heels.

"I wanted to make sure you got home okay."

"You don't care if I get home okay or not, you don't care about me." You slurred looking at him, you sat up on the bed and crossed your legs as he stared down at you.

"That's not true and you know it." You scoffed at him,

"You have her now, I don't mean anything to you...remember? I was nothing but a fling, isn't that what you said?" You fell backwards on the bed and tried to ignore the fact that he was standing there. You and Jimin had been sleeping together for a year until he found her, then he broke it off with you telling you that you were nothing to him.

"I just want you to wake up in my arms one last time." You mumbled against the pillow and he stared at you, contemplating getting into the bed with you. The truth was he did love you and you weren't just a fling but when things started to become serious he freaked out and left as quickly as he could.

"Move over then." He mumbled taking off his shoes and climbing into the bed next to you without another thought about it.

Taehyung: ~ I know that this is my fault I should have been more careful

Taehyung continued to pace back and forth in front of you and you felt the guilt building up minute by minute, step by step and he stared at you he paced. There was nothing that could be done now, no going back it was too late,

"I said I was sorry." You whispered looking over at the window, reporters were flooding outside your apartment and he had no way of getting out of there without being seen by them and news being spread like wildfire about how he was caught in someone's house that wasn't a band member. Rumours would flood and you'd never have another moment of peace again,

"How could you have been so stupid?!" You felt your heartbreak as he raised his voice at you and called you stupid you knew he didn't mean it but it didn't make it hurt less to hear it come from his mouth, no matter what you did it seemed to only make things worse so you kept your mouth shut not knowing what to do in this situation to make it better. You figured they would just leave soon if they saw nothing but it was clear that wasn't going to happen anytime soon,

"Tae I didn't do this...You know that right?" He stared at you and then over at the window, it was hard to believe that you weren't the one that called the press but he trusted you somewhat but right now he didn't know what to do or who to trust, there was no one else it could have been.

"Then who was it?" You looked down at your hands, you had no idea who it was but you know it wasn't you, why would you potentially ruin your whole relationship with him and throw away the best year of your life.

"Tae please, it wasn't-" There was a knock on your apartment door that stopped you from talking, you got up from the sofa while Taehyung went into the bedroom to hide and you slowly made your way over to the door to see your neighbour standing there with her daughter staring down at the floor.

"Hi Miss Y/l/n, I have someone here who wants to say something to you." You let them into the apartment and Taehyung stayed hiding out in the bedroom in case it was a reporter,

"I'm sorry. I got excited when I saw Tae and I text my friend and then she text more friends who all put it on twitter." You stared over at the bedroom door and Tae was stood watching you both as she admitted what had happened,

"It's okay sweetie." You lied knowing that if you said it was her fault she might burst out into tears and you didn't want that to happen she was only young and didn't know any better. Taehyung walked further into the room and began talking with her while you thought of a way to get rid of the photographers.

"What if I tweet out that I was lying, that I didn't see him?" The little girl asked looking at you and Tae for confirmation but Tae was already thinking of a better thing to do than that, he took your hand and walked out of the apartment door.

"Tae? Tae? What are you doing?" He walked you down the stairs and over to the gates where the reporters were crowding around, screaming out his name and questions.

"Tae you're going to get in trouble with BigHit." You whispered but he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side,

"Whatever you want to write, write it." He said looking at the reporters and not at you, if he'd looked at you he would have seen the wide-eyed look of fear you were giving him as he spoke to them. Management had made it clear to you both that if it ever got out that you were dating that would be the end of it, no more relationship and they didn't care about it.

"Tae..."

"We're dating, I plan on dating her for a while so you're going to have to get used to it." You stared at the reporters who were all screaming questioned but Taehyung didn't answer any of them he just kissed you and then walked back up to your apartment.

"You're gonna get fired." You mumbled against his chest as he held you close to him,

"Don't care." He whispered kissing the top of your head,

"Besides, I'd like to seem them try and fire me." He chuckled kissing your lips softly.

Jungkook: ~ Can’t you forgive me…

You'd never seen Jungkook so mad before but he was red in the face with anger and you could have sworn the vein in his neck was going to burst open,

"Jungkook-"

"Don't!" He yelled making you flinch, he'd never yelled at you once in the four years that you had been together. You had the occasional fight but it was always small bickering that was over almost as quickly as it started but this was different. This fight had been brewing all week and something just tipped him over the edge,

"Kookie please-"

"Y/n! Shut! Up!" You sat down on the edge of the bed in his dorm room, he'd invited you over after a long day at the studio but it wasn't to cuddle and relax like it normally was. He was mad at you and he had to express it instead of holding it in.

"Is this about Jimin again?" You looked down at your hands as you asked the question. It was one kiss, it was one stupid kiss that was going to make you regret everything for the rest of your life.

"Yes, it's about you and Jimin making out." You stared up at him,

"Making out? Jungkook! It was a kiss, a peck on the lips!" You yelled finally having enough of the same conversation over and over again.

"You still kissed him!"

"In a game of truth or dare! You kissed Soo-ah but I'm not kicking off like this." You stared at him and he stared at you, he didn't see a problem with kissing Soo-Ah because he didn't have to look her in the eyes every day and listen to the jokes that were being told over and over again.

"You know that's different!"

"How? Because you kissed her and not me? Why is it so different for you to kiss someone else but not me?" You asked staring at him, you wanted a real answer this time.

"Because I'm not a slag like you!" You stared at him and blinked,

"Excuse me?" You questioned staring at him and he knew what he said was bad, you weren't getting angry you were starting to tear up and for you that was worse than being angry at him.

"I'm going home." You mumbled getting up from the bed and leaving the room, Jungkook grabbed your hand in protest but you pulled it away from him going out of the dorm room and heading over to the front door.

"Y/n, it's pouring it down." You heard Jin say from the living room and you knew they'd heard everything going on inside the bedroom,

"I'll find a taxi." You mumbled opening the door but it was pushed shut by Namjoon who walked you over to the sofa and sat you down beside him and Jin.

"You know he didn't mean it," Namjoon whispered, you'd always been close with the boys but looking back on it now maybe it was a bad thing to be so close with them.

"Felt like he did." You whispered back to him,

"You know how defensive he gets when he's angry, he shouts names at everyone." The front door clicked and Jimin walked in singing something but stopping as soon as he saw you all on the sofa,

"What did I miss?"

"Jungkook calling me a slag." You answered before anyone else could, the bedroom door clicked open and Jungkook stood there watching you all.

"I was just leaving-" He pulled you away from everyone and back into the bedroom where he said nothing to you, just laid you down next to him on the bed and held you while you let out little cries.

"I'm sorry," He whispered against the top of your head as he held you in his arms, he knew it was going to be a while until you forgave him but he wasn't going stop apologising until you did.

Tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @fan-ati--c @btsiguess-kpop @rjsmochii

[kyu-bri]

PMMM Medieval AU

Ok I've been Checked Out of the Meduka Meguca fandom recently but last night during a 11hr post-work week sleep I dreamed up a balls to the wall insanely intricate AU, because my subconcious is ever more creative than my waking self.

A TLDR role list and under the cut I will ramble and speculate in detail:

SAYAKA: An ex squire Knight trainee whose new mission is to overthrow the fucking monarchy after its corrupt rule led to the deaths of her friends. Now seducing an established Knight woman to help her on the inside while she recruits peasants for her rebellion.

MAMI: A rich snobbish merchant, rolling in wealth from inheriting both her dead parents businesses. She too is looking to overthrow the monarchy but is at odds with Sayakas faction because her plan is to become ruler herself.

KYOKO: a thief with brooding backstory. Mami recruits her to do her dirty work behind the scenes to keep her social standing clean.

MADOKA: A young training Goddess of Hope who fell from the moon. She has come to enthusiastically stop all the warring drama and devious plotting. She is in way over her head.

HOMURA: when Madoka fell she brought with her only a magical talisman that would bring one corpse to life to be her right hand. While looking for a noble muscular soldier Madoka tripped and dropped it into an open grave resurrecting a sickly peasant girl. Homura now worships Madoka and they are best friends who are in way over their heads.

Now me screaming trying to decipher my own subconscious:

GOD this AU is so ME. Sayaka going feral and living her best life kicking ass and a catty mean girl Mami countering her specifically. Kyoko poised to compliment, counter and even them out. Oh and MadoHomu are Cute and In Love. If that isnt the core of all of my AUs-

Sayaka was absolutely nuts in this though. My brain didn't spare Kyosuke or Hitomi so much as a cameo but so they're free to be the only reasonable cause for this. Im thinking Kyosuke was ailing as per usual and all that canon drama was the Same but Medieval.

So I'm thinking Sayakas all set to cope with Hitomi financing some lifesaving Medieval leech centric surgery or something before the Evil King whose color scheme is White And Maroon decides to execute Hitomis family for something petty. Hitomi is tragically killed right before Sayaka. Leaving Kyosuke to go shortly after and Sayaka to swear off the monarchy and all traditional law. Withdrawing from her training to be a knight to Be Gay And Do Crime.

Mamis role is both hilarious and perfect. In the dream she didn't do much besides bribe Kyoko and Anime Princess Laugh, but then Madoka was lore dumping (because yes, I DREAMED Madoka explaining LORE to Homura for the audiences (my) benefit.) And she said that Mami was possessed by a Demon of Greed. I'm thinking we could also say a desperate grieving Mami made some sort of deal with it asking for the ability to manage her parents legacy and it's resulted in her becoming the Onceler instead.

Madoka also mentions Kyoko has been scared away from her God bc of humans' actions. Ie she was the holy dutiful priests daughter and then Shit Hit The Fan but Medieval Flavored. The dream legit shows her God was Jesus so I'm declaring the dude God of Redemption, which is a very Kyoko Thing to boot.

While my brain didn't give me any KyoSaya Content tm they're in the perfect position for their epic Rivalry Turned Eternal Companions. Kyoko would be who Mami sends to fuck w Sayaka. Sayaka having probably trying to recruit Mami to her cause before realizing Mamis The Fucking Onceler and inspiring her to create a Rival Gang Of King Hating Rebels.

I'm picturing Sayakas plan fucking up in just the way Kyoko once mocked her that it would and all of Sayakas fight leaving her. As epic as her role is seducing the enemy to benefit her is very Unlike Her, so while the dream poised her as a power couple with the random blond knight lady I'm saying nnnno. And that the arrangement is fitfully miserable and dangerous. Sayaka used to be a loyal hopeless romantic and the Evil that's been committed against her and and those she loves has forced her to harden herself into someone else to be able to fight it.

But while Sayakas in Inevitable Peril and lamenting all of her mistakes and tragedy Kyokos there, fully able to escape but instead of course is like "no fuck that fuck this take my hand dreams come true lets give this nightmare a happily ever after." And its gay.

This would probably pit them both against Mami now but knowing me it would absolutely solve it with gay. And probably a bit of exorcism from Madoka. I theorized briefly if Mami would be a singular tragic death bc she cant be freed bc i liked the idea of tiny baby trumpet blower Nagisa slitting the Evil rich ladies throat and that being the only way to free her from the demon was cool but unless I can give Madoka a second resurrection clause then i would just exorcise her with Homosexuality and Friendship and a bit of Fairy Dust.

Meanwhile with Madoka and Homura they were just off still being cute and oblivious in the dream. I think the dream wanted her to be The One True God but she then shows all the personality traits of Naïve Angel In Training, so bc of the mythology already surrounding her I'm saying thinks a society where Literal Concepts Are Still Being Born and Madoka is the first inkling of Hope that Homosexuality and Friendship can fight Medieval Capitalism on its own.

She's just this bright white and pink pastel glowing entity skipping through a dark dreary forest graveyard looking for soldiers graves to ressurect somebody noble and powerful, gathering twigs in her long Repuntzel hair, when she trips and drops her talisman on a homeless orphan who died of the plague or some shit.

Bonus points to the idea that Madokas supposed to be able to reuse it but bc Homura died of sickness she just dies again right away and Madoka doesn't wanna be mean.

So Homura worships this glowing self positioned manic pixie dream girl bc shes definitely never felt hopeful in her life and so this glowing pastel goddess and drab zombie girl begin a road trip to where the actual plot of the story is happening. Because the moon dropped Madoka like inconveniently far away ig.

And so is the skeleton of a fabulous AU that I will probably not develop further but might make art for because my subconscious brain Also has AMAZING cinematography like when Madoka comes out of her moon all her hair flows out first so from earth it looks like a long pink gunshot through the moon which I suppose all the other characters would see and thus foreshadow their inevitable downfall to the powers of Homosexuality and Friendship and HOPE.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 1, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Last night at midnight, a new law went into effect in Texas. House Bill 1927 permits people to carry handguns without a permit, unless they have been convicted of a felony or domestic violence. This measure was not popular in the state. Fifty-nine percent of Texans—including law enforcement officers—opposed it. But 56% of Republicans supported it. “I don’t know what it’s a solution to,” James McLaughlin, executive director of the Texas Police Chiefs Association, said to Heidi Pérez-Moreno of the Texas Tribune when Republican governor Greg Abbott signed the bill in mid-August. “I don’t know what the problem was to start with.”

Texas Gun Rights executive director Chris McNutt had a different view. He said in a statement: “Texas is finally a pro-gun state despite years of foot-dragging, roadblocks, and excuses from the spineless political class.”

The bill had failed in 2019 after McNutt showed up at the home of the Texas House Speaker, Republican Dennis Bonnen, to demand its passage. Bonnen said McNutt’s “overzealous” visit exhibited “insanity.” "Threats and intimidation will never advance your issue. Their issue is dead," he told McNutt. McNutt told the Dallas Morning News: "If politicians like Speaker Dennis Bonnen think they can show up at the doorsteps of Second Amendment supporters and make promises to earn votes in the election season, they shouldn't be surprised when we show up in their neighborhoods to insist they simply keep their promises in the legislative session.”

That was not the only bill that went into effect at midnight last night in Texas. In May, Governor Abbott signed the strongest anti-abortion law in the country, Senate Bill 8, which went into effect on September 1. It bans abortion after 6 weeks—when many women don’t even know they’re pregnant—thus automatically stopping about 85% of abortions in Texas. There are no exceptions for rape or incest. Opponents of the bill had asked the Supreme Court to stop the law from taking effect. It declined to do so.

The law avoided the 1973 Supreme Court Roe v. Wade decision protecting the right to abortion before fetal viability at about 22 to 24 weeks by leaving the enforcement of the law not up to the state, but rather up to private citizens. This was deliberate. As Dahlia Lithwick and Mark Joseph Stern explained in an article in Slate: “Typically, when a state restricts abortion, providers file a lawsuit in federal court against the state officials responsible for enforcing the new law. Here, however, there are no such officials: The law is enforced by individual anti-abortion activists.” With this law, there’s no one to stop from enforcing it.  

S.B. 8 puts ordinary people in charge of law enforcement. Anyone—at all—can sue any individual who “aids or abets,” or even intends to abet, an abortion in Texas after six weeks. Women seeking abortion themselves are exempt, but anyone who advises them (including a spouse), gives them a ride, provides counseling, staffs a clinic, and so on, can be sued by any random stranger. If the plaintiff wins, they pocket $10,000 plus court costs, and the clinic that provided the procedure is closed down. If the defendant doesn’t defend themselves, the court must find them guilty. And if the defendant wins, they get…nothing. Not even attorney’s fees.

So, nuisance lawsuits will ruin abortion providers, along with anyone accused of aiding and abetting—or intending to abet—an abortion. And the enforcers will be ordinary citizens.

Texas has also just passed new voting restrictions that allow partisan poll watchers to have “free movement” in polling places, enabling them to intimidate voters. Texas governor Greg Abbott is expected to sign that bill in the next few days.

Taken together with the vigilantism running wild in school board meetings and attacks on election officials, the Texas legislation is a top red flag in the red flag factory. The Republican Party is empowering vigilantes to enforce their beliefs against their neighbors.

The law, which should keep us all on a level playing field, has been abandoned by our Supreme Court. Last night, it refused to stop the new Texas abortion law from going into effect, and tonight, just before midnight, by a 5–4 vote, it issued an opinion refusing to block the law. Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s dissent read: “The court’s order is stunning. Presented with an application to enjoin a flagrantly unconstitutional law engineered to prohibit women from exercising their constitutional rights and evade judicial scrutiny, a majority of Justices have opted to bury their heads in the sand.”

Texas’s law flouts nearly 50 years of federal precedents, she points out, but the Supreme Court has looked the other way. ”The State’s gambit worked,” Sotomayor wrote. She continued:  “This is untenable. It cannot be the case that a state can evade federal judicial scrutiny by outsourcing the enforcement of unconstitutional laws to its citizenry."

The Supreme Court has essentially blessed the efforts of Texas legislators to prevent the enforcement of federal law by using citizen vigilantes to get their way. The court decided the case on its increasingly active “shadow docket,” a series of cases decided without full briefings or oral argument, often in the dead of night, without signed opinions. In the past, such emergency decisions were rare and used to issue uncontroversial decisions or address irreparable immediate harm (like the death penalty). Since the beginning of the Trump administration, they have come to make up the majority of the court’s business.

Since 2017, the court has used the shadow docket to advance right-wing goals. It has handed down brief, unsigned decisions after a party asks for emergency relief from a lower court order, siding first with Trump, and now with state Republicans, at a high rate. As University of Texas law professor Stephen Vladeck noted: “In less than three years, [Trump’s] Solicitor General has filed at least twenty-one applications for stays in the Supreme Court (including ten during the October 2018 Term alone).” In comparison, “during the sixteen years of the George W. Bush and Obama Administrations, the Solicitor General filed a total of eight such applications—averaging one every other Term.”

So, operating without open arguments or opinions, the Supreme Court has shown that it will not enforce federal law, leaving state legislatures to do as they will. This, after all, was the whole point of the “originalism” that Republicans embraced under President Ronald Reagan. Originalists wanted to erase the legal justification of the post–World War II years that used the “due process” and “equal protection” clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment to apply the protections of the Bill of Rights to the states. It was that concept that protected civil rights for people of color and for women, by using the federal government to prohibit states from enforcing discriminatory laws.

Since the 1980s, Republicans have sought to hamstring federal power and return power to the states, which have neither the power nor the inclination to regulate businesses effectively, and which can discriminate against minorities and get away with it, so long as the federal government doesn’t enforce equal protection.

Today’s events make that a reality.

Worse, though, the mechanisms of the Texas law officially turn a discriminatory law over to state-level vigilantes to enforce. The wedge to establish this mechanism is abortion, but the door is now open for extremist state legislatures to turn to private citizens to enforce any law that takes away an individual’s legal right…like, say, the right to vote. And in Texas, now, a vigilante doesn't even have to have a permit to carry the gun that will back up his threats.

During Reconstruction, vigilantes also carried guns. They enforced state customs that reestablished white supremacy after the federal government had tried to defend equality before the law. It took only a decade for former Confederates who had tried to destroy the government to strip voting rights, and civil rights, from the southern Black men who had defended the United States government during the Civil War. For the next eighty years, the South was a one-party state where enforcement of the laws depended on your skin color, your gender, and whom you knew.

Opponents have compared those who backed the Texas anti-abortion law to the Taliban, the Islamic extremists in Afghanistan whose harsh interpretation of Islamic Sharia law strips women of virtually all rights. But the impulse behind the Texas law, the drive to replace the federal protection of civil rights with state vigilantes enforcing their will, is homegrown. It is a reflection of the position that Republicans would like women to have in our society, for sure, but it is also written in the laughing faces of Mississippi law enforcement officers Lawrence Rainey and Cecil Ray Price in 1967, certain even as they were arraigned for the 1964 murders of James Earl Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Henry Schwerner, that the system was so rigged in their favor that they would literally get away with murder.

When they were killed, Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner were trying to register Black people to vote.

—-

Notes:

https://thehill.com/homenews/state-watch/437665-texas-gop-leaders-drop-constitutional-carry-bill-after-gun-rights

https://www.texastribune.org/2021/08/16/texas-permitless-carry-gun-law/

https://www.npr.org/2021/08/31/1033068542/texas-voting-restrictions-bill-abbott-republicans

https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2021/08/texas-abortion-supreme-court-roe-wade.html

Mark Joseph Stern @mjs_DCBREAKING: By a 5–4 vote, with Roberts joining the liberals, the Supreme Court REFUSES to block Texas' six-week abortion ban. Opinions here:

s3.amazonaws.com/s3.documentclo…

3,936 Retweets5,180 Likes

September 2nd 2021

https://www.vox.com/2020/8/1/21350679/supreme-court-border-wall-trump-sierra-club-stay-stephen-breyer

https://www.vox.com/2020/8/11/21356913/supreme-court-shadow-docket-jail-asylum-covid-immigrants-sonia-sotomayor-barnes-ahlman

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[anonniemousefics]

The Deal Is The Deal

Originally posted on AO3

Fandom: Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom | Kaz + Inej

Word count: 7,774

***Rating: NSFW (aged-up characters) -- I’m gonna say this is a 7 on the smut scale***

This piece follows The Trouble With Wanting and is best read second.

Synopsis: Kaz Brekker is not a useless podge who mopes and stews over his personal problems. Kaz Brekker makes deals. Kaz Brekker enforces. Kaz Brekker stays twenty steps ahead. (Or that’s at least what he tells himself.)

Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason, but the right reason made him damn near unstoppable. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. Part of crafting a persona your enemies feared involved a considerable amount of convincing yourself of your own fearlessness. And Kaz was very good at convincing. Kaz Brekker always got what he wanted. That’s what he told himself.

Because Inej Ghafa was his perfect reason. Ketterdam had tried to break her a thousand times more than it had broken him, and still she was a better person than he could ever hope to be. He’d always believed the world would be better off if Inej had her way in all things. Making that reality had now become his singular focus.

He had sat in this same spot many times before, at his desk chair in Per Haskell’s old office on the main floor of the Crow Club, considering the terms of their deal and how he would fulfill them. Kaz Brekker was not a useless podge who moped and stewed over his personal problems. Kaz Brekker made deals. Kaz Brekker enforced. Kaz Brekker stayed twenty steps ahead.

(That’s what he told himself.)

Inej had laughed at him when he’d framed it in this way – their deal. But he didn’t mind. If he ever became stranded on a desert island, he could have lived off her laugh alone.

“You can’t just call it something normal?” she had asked him, over a year ago.

They were sitting on the tiles of the roof of The Slat when Inej said this, a blanket of stars overhead. A half-empty bottle of kvas had sat between them, an unspoken boundary he wasn’t sure which one of them would attempt to cross first. Probably her, that’s what he was betting. She always had been braver than he.

“Is what we’re dealing with normal?” Kaz countered.

“A relationship where two people have problems?” said Inej, and she rolled her eyes. “No, you’re absolutely right. We’re revolutionaries.”

“You know what I mean.” Kaz shot her a sideways look. Inej sighed in reluctant acknowledgement. All Kaz had to do to know how the odds were stacked against them was to walk down the street. Men and women all over Ketterdam could hold hands, casually kiss on their way out of their front doors, fuck in dark alleys when they thought they were alone. Kaz and Inej were, as much as they hated it, different.

The only way forward, the only way Kaz knew, was to strike a deal.

“I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know anything about relationships, Inej,” he said, “but I do know deals. And I know how to con. And that’s what will save this.”

“Enlighten me,” Inej drawled. She was raising an eyebrow, her head propped up on her arms as she wrapped them around her knees. Guarded, Kaz noted, and with good reason. He wasn’t offering her romance, and for that, he felt a twinge of shame. Somewhere in him had to be a better man for her, and he hoped it wouldn’t take too long to unearth him. Damn it all, he would try.

“You want me.” He could say it now with more confidence, but it still sounded unbelievable. “And I want you. Mind, body, and soul.”

“Hm.” Inej hummed her approval, lifting her head just a bit. In the dim light from the streets below, he could see a tiny smile play on her lips.

“Those are the terms of the deal. Simple enough, really. Unfortunately,” he stretched out his bad leg, leaning back on his hands, “our bodies are not holding up their end of the bargain. And what do we do when cocky little sods won’t follow through on their deals?”

Inej unfurled her legs then, leaning back as he had. She wore a cheeky half smile as she clucked her tongue with a pitying sigh.

“Penalties,” she said.

“Exactly,” Kaz nodded. “We collect. We learn their histories, we learn their motives, we learn what they love, what they hate, what frightens them, what bores them. We learn all this so we can apply the perfect amount of pressure, combined with just the right leverage.”

“I can’t believe this is making sense.” Inej was shaking her head in disbelief as she took a swig from the bottle.

“The deal is the deal, Inej,” Kaz said. He shifted so he was looking at her face, the thick braid that fell over her slender shoulder. “And if our deal is to each other, and our bodies are violating our terms, then I swear to learn everything I can to give you the leverage you need to break this stupid sod.” And he thrust a hand against his chest to drive the point home.

“He is not a stupid sod,” Inej said, tenderly, her brown eyes sparkling, and slowly, she pressed her fingers over his on his chest. Kaz swallowed hard, feeling his heart in his throat. Alive. Alive. Alive, he told himself. Her flesh was warm, dry, living, her pulse in her palm. Different. Good. Deep breath. Alive.

When his heart rate slowed again, he wrapped her fingers in his and pressed a quick kiss to the back of her hand. Alive. Good. It was good. And her smile that followed, breathtaking.

Worth it.

“And I swear the same to you,” Inej promised. She leaned closer so that their shoulders brushed, and she looked up at him through oil-black lashes. He could smell her hair in the night breeze, the sweet coconut oil she used. Intoxicating. Thank her Saints this world isn’t a just one, he thought to himself. He was sure he’d done nothing to deserve such a face. “They say Kaz Brekker never met a safe he couldn’t crack,” she went on. “I suppose I shouldn’t doubt you can figure out my combination.”

His mouth felt dry and his slacks a little tighter as she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. It was barely a peck, but for the first time, it wasn’t enough. He found himself leaning forward, eyes closed, even as she pulled away. From the smirk she wore when he opened his eyes to her, she had noticed.

“I might like your metaphor better,” he confessed, his voice hoarse. And Inej laughed.

That was their deal. Conduct reconnaissance. Apply pressure. Utilize leverage. Crack the safe.

Nina Zenik would have a field day with these innuendoes, he realized. If it had been an actual contract, he should have considered some kind of non-disclosure clause.

Getting sloppy, Brekker.

He had his black-trousered legs propped up on the desk, trying to quickly wolf down the sandwich Pim had brought in for him from a nearby street vendor. He knew he ought to have taken the walk himself. It helped to stretch out his bad leg a few times a day or taking the stairs up to The Slat would be nearly impossible. But he was up to his tie knot in paperwork, and he got distracted far too easily these days. There were reminders of her everywhere.

This chair, for example. He was torn between saving it forever, maybe casting in bronze, or replacing it completely for the sake of his work ethic. It was there, barely a month ago, that they’d somehow found themselves late one night while Inej was portside. He couldn’t even remember now why they hadn’t gone upstairs to The Slat. Maybe it had been the crowd in the Crow Club. Didn’t matter. He’d locked the door, and one thing had led to another, and somehow he’d ended up sitting in this exact chair, Inej straddling his lap.

He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. There were no waters lapping at his ankles. Jordie’s ghost was apparently growing disinterested in his little brother’s dalliance. And Inej showed no signs of vanishing. Rather the opposite. She was above him, running her hands from his chest to his hair, her lips desperate for his. He’d even forgotten to take off his gloves, but she didn’t seem to care as he traced the slope of her hips, the curves of her muscled thighs that gripped either side of his.

“I want you,” she gasped between heated kisses. She held his jaw in her hands, demanding.

“You have me,” he rasped. He slid his hands up the lithe curve of her waist, where the base of her ribs flared with every ragged breath.

“I want to touch you.” Kaz thought he was seeing stars as she worked her lips over his jawline to the shell of his ear. She nipped at his earlobe, and he shivered. “But I’m not ready for you to touch me yet,” she whispered there.

At that, Kaz pulled back from her a moment, hovering his hands over her body. He tried to be a quick student of her, of this maddening, irresistible lock of hers. He knew well enough that when the lock said stop, you damn well stopped.

“Are you ok?” He gave her a quick, concerned assessment. Her demons were cunning, but they were becoming easier for him to spot. But in that moment, Inej was rosy-cheeked and biting her lip, her dark, thick braid coming loose around her face and shoulders. She was breathless, her breasts rising and falling just inches from his body. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t lost sleep wondering when he was going to hold them again, but he wasn’t about to press the issue. Patience. Leverage. That was their deal.

Inej leaned into him, sliding her arms over his shoulders as her breasts pressed against his chest.

“I’m just gathering information,” she insisted, meeting his lips again, just once. “Leverage.” Another kiss to his jaw. He felt like a human stick of butter, sliding down a pan. “Pressure.” And she ground her hips against his, rubbing against his cock so that it throbbed. The sound that came up from his chest was not one he’d ever heard from his body before.

“You do not have to do this, Inej,” he said, in spite of himself, still wary of the last time they’d pushed into new territory.

Inej sat back so that he could see her full face, the streetlight from outside glowing orange behind her black hair like a halo. He searched her soft brown eyes, not understanding the look on her face.

“That’s exactly why I want to,” she said, softly.

It was moments like this Kaz could almost hear the sound of lock tumblers clicking into place.

He sat back, his gloved hands gripping on the arms of his chair.

“I’m all yours, Inej,” he said, his voice husky. He trusted her with his demons. He trusted her with his life.

She had her hands on his torso, raking her eyes over his body, and he felt like he might catch fire. These men who bought their pleasure in brothels could never know the thrill of being so desperately wanted, and, for a moment, he almost pitied them. Almost.

“It doesn’t bother you, when I sit on you like this?” Inej asked, flicking a glance up at him. Kaz could only shake his head, dumbly. If she only knew how incredible she looked up there. They built monuments to this kind of glory.

“And it doesn’t bother you when I do…this?” Inej palmed her hand against his cock, and Kaz drew in a sharp breath. Had she asked a question? Was he meant to answer?

“This,” he was stammering as she slowly stroked his cock through his trousers, “this is what you want?” He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Over him, Inej nodded, her eyes dark and smoldering. The leather on his gloves creaked as he tightened his hands on the chair. He wouldn’t try to touch her, not without instruction. Those were her terms.

Outside the locked office door, the sounds of drunken laughter and broken glass bottles rose as Kaz’s head slipped back against the chair with a groan. Inej kept her eyes trained on him, like she was hungry, devouring his every movement as she applied pressure, slowly stroking him from hilt to head and back again. As his eyes slipped close, his breathing deepening, she leaned in against him again, her body hot and taut, planting kisses up his neck.

In that moment, he didn’t give a single fuck about anything else, not revenge, not profit, not the Dime Lions, not the ghosts of his past. There was only Inej. His Inej. The girl he was determined give the world to, just you wait.

“Inej,” he breathed, and he felt her smile against his face.

“It’s good?” she whispered, checking. Good? That was a pitiful word for what it was. And if he wasn’t currently losing all sense of time and space, he’d have offered a better word.

“This is good information, Brekker,” she crooned in his ear.

Kaz was sure he’d never been so hard in his life. He clenched his fists tighter, his breath quickening, and vowed to meet this offer in equal exchange as soon as he could.

“I’m going to be a better man for you, Inej,” he heard himself spout, maybe a little too loud. He was panting, shaking. There was a crest rising inside of him, a wave of energy stronger than any he’d felt before.

“You don’t need to--” Inej started to say when Kaz let out a moan.

“I’m going to love you the way you deserve,” he swore with a gasp.

“You do; you already do,” and Inej covered his mouth with hers as he broke apart beneath her, a low moan against her lips as the wave crashed over him, sending him out into the sky.

And he didn’t care so much in the moment how gross he felt in his slacks, as Inej leaned her forehead against his. His chest heaved while he caught his breath, still coming down from the clouds, and she whispered to him, “I say your name when I touch myself, too.”

So, the chair had to go. Or stay. Whatever. Either way, in its current state, the paperwork was mounding up, and she was due back any day now, and he had to get caught up. This was not how he wanted to be spending his time while she was back in Ketterdam.

“Kaz!” Jesper Fahey shoved open the office door with a shout, startling Kaz.

“Shit, Jes. Knock,” Kaz swore. “I could have been indisposed.”

“Sure,” Jesper rolled his eyes in disbelief. Kaz pressed back a smirk to himself, thinking of the chair. Maybe the chair stayed after all.

“So, it’s true, then.” Jesper strode to the middle of the office, folding his arms. “There is a mattress in your office.”

Kaz glanced at what Jesper now pointed at, accusingly. It was true. The mattress was pushed vertical up against the wall, to keep it out of the way while he worked during the day.

“Astute of you to notice,” Kaz grunted, pulling at the next piece of paperwork in the pile. Expense reports. This one was last month’s? Fuck.

“Pim and Anika are worried about the mattress in your office,” Jesper said. “So, Kaz, why is there a mattress in your office?”

“I’m having construction done on The Slat,” Kaz shrugged, which was true. “I can’t sleep up there until it’s done.”

“That’s it?” Jesper glared at him, incredulous, his eyes in slits.

“There is no mystery here, Jes.” Kaz spread his hands out wide. “There is construction upstairs, so I sleep down here.”

“This is weird. Even for you,” Jesper frowned. “Anika thought maybe your leg was getting worse. Like you couldn’t make it up the stairs.”

“I can still beat your ass up and down those stairs. Happy? I have work.”

“So, what are you having done to The Slat?” Jesper was leaning against the far wall, his arms still crossing, looking about as moveable as a mountain. Kaz chewed on the inside of his lip.

“I just wanted running hot water,” he lied. Well, it was true enough, anyway. There would be running hot water up in The Slat when all was said and done.

He wasn’t ready to tell Jesper the real reason, what had happened six months ago that had snowballed into him sleeping on a narrow mattress at night in his office. He didn’t want to admit why aloud, but deep down, he was always waiting for the day when Inej had had enough of this, their deal, enough of him. It would break him when that happened, he knew it would. And if he had to break the news of it to Jesper, too, broken and in shambles… he just couldn’t imagine doing it. It was safer for everyone, Kaz included, if no one knew.

He’d thought that day had come six months ago. Why it hadn’t was only a testament to Inej’s undying patience.

Sometimes, when Kaz’s bad leg hurt in the night, it helped to walk the streets. He liked to think it made him look unpredictable. You never knew at what hour Dirtyhands could appear. A short stroll around the block could get the blood flowing in his leg and send a message to the thugs and goons lurking about the dark alleys at night all in the same half hour. Efficiency at its finest.

He took a slow walk that night. He’d spent too many hours at his desk that day, and his leg was stiff and the ache was constant. It was when he’d paused past the glow of a street lamp that he sensed the shadows flit about behind him, and, without moving his weight from his cane, he began to reach for the revolver in his coat pocket.

“Kaz, it’s just me.” Inej’s whisper stopped him, and as he turned to the alleyway, his girl was leaping silently from a fire escape and his heart stuttered. She could land on her feet like a cat and throw back her braid when she stood, not a bead of sweat on her.

Kaz checked the streets, back and forth, but saw no one.

“You’re following me,” he observed, and was it weird he was flattered? “I wasn’t expecting you to dock until tomorrow.”

“We caught a strong current,” said Inej, who kept to the shadows and leaned against the side of the alley. “And it’s not that I don’t trust your new spider, but I don’t trust your new spider.”

Kaz huffed a laugh. Anika was learning, but it was true there would never be another Wraith.

“Find anything interesting?” he asked.

“Your reign of terror here is making these streets rather boring,” Inej shrugged. “No one’s tried to mug me or shank me all night.”

“I gave the muggers and the shankers the night off. Tuesday nights are strictly for public urination.”

“Is that what you’re doing out and about?”

“Change starts at the top, Inej. No one gets immunity in the Barrel.”

Inej stifled a laugh behind her fingerless gloves, and Kaz desperately wanted to kiss her.

“Were you going to stop by tonight?” he asked instead.

“Depended on what I found,” she replied.

“And?”

“If you’ll have me.”

If he would have her? Saints. Perhaps he hadn’t been clear enough. He would have her every day for the rest of his life if she wanted.

“I’ll meet you in The Slat,” he said instead.

He thought about kissing her all the way home, and he climbed the stairs as quickly as his throbbing leg would allow. But when he locked the door and turned to face her, Inej was sitting on the edge of his narrow bed, her slim body looking a little slouched, as she hid a yawn behind her hand. Of course, she was exhausted. And he offered her something he’d never offered before: a place in his bed for the night.

She’d looked both a little nervous and a little intrigued by the concept, and eventually gave in. He offered her one of his nightshirts to sleep in and couldn’t help himself from gazing over her bare legs, the way the thin fabric skimmed over the supple curve of her ass.

They decided the night was just for sleeping, and while Kaz waited for drowsiness to overtake the ache in his leg, he kept glancing over at her asleep on the pillow next to him, her thick black hair spilling over the cotton like ink, her soft lashes splayed against her golden brown skin. He thought he could die happy after this.

But then, in the dead of night, everything changed.

Kaz awoke with a start, his heart pounding, when Inej screamed, terrified, pummeling at him with closed fists. He recognized the signs instantly; nightmares plagued his sleep regularly, too. He snatched at one of her wrists, trying to stop her from hitting him in the face.

“Inej! Inej!” His voice was hoarse from sleep. “Inej, it’s Kaz. It’s Kaz.”

Her eyes weren’t even open, and, as he tried to restrain her, she pulled one of her knives from under her pillow and leapt atop of him, straddling his torso with Sankta Elizabeta at his jugular in an instant.

“Inej,” he tried again, but his own voice was starting to shake.

She was slick in cold sweat, and her thighs now pressed on either side of his bare abdomen, wet flesh trapping him, pressing in on him. He was having trouble drawing a breath. Nausea churned in his stomach. He forgot all about the knife at his throat. What did it matter when the sea waves were crashing in over him, filling his mouth, his nose, his lungs…

Inej was blinking her eyes and dropped her weapon with a horrified cry.

But all he saw were her vacant eyes, purple bruising blooming from their rims, bloat rotting at her jaw. And he was drowning under her.

“Kaz! Kaz!” Inej took his face in her shaking hands, as if she could pull him back from the darkness that was overtaking him.

“Stop,” he tried to rasp, but it was barely audible. Her hands were a corpse’s, pulling him under.

Without thinking and desperate for breath, he grabbed her waist and threw her to the side. He spilled out of the bed, his stomach lurching. The nightstand rattled, and the washbasin shattered when it fell. Shards of ceramic scattered across the wood floor. He would have vomited all over it had it not been for the wastebasket. He managed to grab its edges just in time, hurling his stomach’s contents into it.

He retched so hard, tears spilled from his eyes and snot ran from his nose, but when he finally sat back, shaking and spent, Inej was there. She had put on his leather gloves before handing him a towel and a glass of water. His strong, level-headed Inej. When he could finally look at her again, her cheeks were tearstained. He could never admit defeat to such a shattered face.

“Fuck.” He released a ragged sigh as he sat back, running the back of a shaking hand along his lips. Inej sat across from him on the floor, still breathing hard from adrenaline. He needed that laugh of hers. He said the first thing that came to mind. “I’d actually really enjoyed that dinner.”

But Inej was too shaken, her brows cinched together, her raven black hair disheveled over the shoulders of the white nightshirt.

“I’m so, so sorry, Kaz.” Her voice was strained against the threat of tears.

“Are you ok?” He reached out of her gloved hands, and she took his fingertips with a little sob.

“This was a spectacular disaster,” Inej said. But Kaz squeezed her fingers, hoping she’d look at him. Needing the reassurance that this wasn’t the final straw. That they were still fighting their way out together.

“This was just good reconnaissance,” he objected, though his throat still burned. “We learned some valuable information tonight. We just need separate beds. How many fat, rich mercher families have you spied on that sleep in separate beds?”

“Those same merchers attack women in brothels, Kaz.” Inej wiped at her cheek with her spare hand, clutching at Kaz’s tightly with her other. “Maybe we just need a bigger bed,” she said with a sigh.

We. She’d said We. She hadn’t given up, hadn’t even considered it, and she’d said We. He’d buy her whatever bed she wanted after that. But The Slat was only big enough for Kaz’s narrow bed. And before he knew it, Kaz was meeting with contractors, looking over blueprints, hiring a foreman, haggling over the cost of materials, picking out new plumbing, new fixtures, and now his home had been stripped down to the studs.

The important thing was, when it was all finished, Kaz was buying the biggest, widest, most luxurious bed in all of Ketterdam, and it was going to fit, damnit.

“This is sending a message I don’t think you want to be sending, Kaz,” Jesper was saying, gesturing to the narrow mattress propped up against the wall.

“Which is what?” Kaz was growing impatient.

“That the Bastard of the Barrel sleeps like a weird little hobo,” said Jesper.

“Hobos don’t have offices to sleep in, Jes. That’s why they’re hobos.”

“Just check into a hotel like every other normal rich bastard,” Jesper begged. “You have the money. Why are you being so weird?”

Because Inej was coming back and what kind of message would that send to her? Meeting him a hotel. After what they had done in the chair the last time she was here. That implied all kinds of things he didn’t want her worrying about.

But if Pim and Anika had wrangled Jesper into confronting him, then maybe he was worrying about the wrong message.

And for all the chaos of the Van Eck Affair, he had enjoyed their stay at the Geldrenner Hotel. Their penthouse suite had been exceptional. It was further from the Crow Club than he would have liked, but the hot running water...and the room service. And Inej could have her pick of beds if she came by. No midnight vomiting would occur there.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he said to Jesper, dismissively. Jesper gave a sigh of defeat and turned to leave.

“You’re too rich for this weird ass behavior,” he shouted at Kaz over his shoulder.

“No one wants your financial advice,” Kaz shouted back.

But Jesper turned back in the doorway, one hand on the frame.

“Oh,” he added, “you’re still coming for drinks on Saturday? Wylan needs a final headcount.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, every damn time. Yes, Jes. Yes. I’ll always be there.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to go book a hotel room, obviously. Tell Roeder to throw out the mattress.”

“Can I give it to Wylan? That thing looks like it needs to be incinerated.”

Wylan could have the mattress for whatever flammable experiments he was working on in his free time. Kaz was already looking forward to another stay at the Geldrenner.

He took a long walk to the Geldrenner Hotel, where he was pleased to find the penthouse suite unoccupied and currently available. He left the reservation under K. Rietveld. Inej would know.

“What does the R stand for?” she’d asked him months and months ago. Nobody would believe they were both naked when she brought it up. In his defense, it had been Inej’s idea, this new leverage. She’d suggested they undress completely and not touch each other. She had wanted to conquer her fear of being naked with a man, and she thought it was something to be done in steps.

Did she think he would say no to such a thing? He’d literally had dreams about this.

Kaz was holding a box of waffles when she suggested it. He’d brought them in for their dinner, a dinner he mistakenly assumed they would be clothed for, and his first moronic thought was that he ought to have picked a less messy food. Once it finally registered what was about to happen, he set the box down and began to slip off his tie.

“What does the R stand for?”

She was sitting across from him, completely bare, with her long black hair veiling her breasts. He looked up from his dinner. He’d been trying his best to focus on the food, to will his cock into not getting any ideas. She was gesturing to the tattoo on his bicep.

“My real surname starts with R,” he replied.

“As in Rietveld, isn’t that right?” Inej flicked him a glance, one that could set a fire smoldering deep in his guts.

“You knew?” he wondered, and then drew in a breath as Inej began to stand to her feet, leaning across the table toward him. He could see everything, from her dark, protruding nipples beneath her long hair, the smooth planes of her flat stomach, the tight curve of her brown waist. The folds where it all met. His cock throbbed, rebelliously.

“I’m the Wraith, Kaz,” she said, her voice husky. “I’m glad you finally told me.”

“This is cheating,” Kaz pointed out, as she pecked his lips.

She had tasted like apple syrup. What would the rest of her taste like?

So, he wasn’t the least bit surprised when, three days later, he was returning to his suite at the Geldrenner at the end of the day and found Inej waiting on the windowsill. She was the Wraith, always and forever. Kaz quickly unlocked the window to pull her inside.

“Please tell me you haven’t been sitting out there all day,” was his greeting.

“I wanted to watch a Ketterdam sunset again, and I don’t fall, Kaz,” Inej said. She was as brown as a nut from her days in the sun, and her cheeks were a rosy apple red. “And no,” she added, “I haven’t been waiting long. You’re not at least a little be impressed that I found you?”

“My dearest Inej, I am in a constant state of awe around you.”

She looked up at him with a brilliant, toothy grin and big, soft brown eyes, and he wrapped his arms around her waist while he kissed her, pulling her close to his chest. She smelled like salt and sea spray, and he could taste the sweat on her lips and he didn’t care. It had been over a month since he’d held her, tasted her, and his body was falling in line with the terms of their deal. He wanted her, however he could have her.

“I missed you,” she told him, as she curled her head against his chest. He drew long, slow circles up and down her back with his fingertips so that she hummed softly in approval.

“I missed you,” he said into her hair.

“I can smell myself,” Inej lamented, with a disgusted groan.

“You smell perfect.” Kaz didn’t care.

“I need a bath.”

“I’ll draw you one.”

And Kaz ordered up room service, too, while Inej bathed in the tub, filling up the bathroom with steam and lavender. She was still soaking when the food arrived, an elaborate spread, since Kaz had ordered one of everything, not knowing what she wanted, and he nudged his head into the bathroom to let her know.

The bubbles had mostly dissolved, and the water pooled just under her breasts, her brown knees bent up out of the water. She’d pulled her long, clean hair out of the tub, letting it trail over the edge to dry, while she leaned against the side of the tub with her eyes closed.

Kaz suddenly understood the myths about mermaids luring men to their deaths.

“You can come in,” she said, a soft, relaxed smile on her lips.

Kaz still wasn’t sure what to say, but wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to look upon her. He leaned against the bathroom counter, trying not to ogle like a creep.

“This bathroom,” Inej remarked, looking all around them. Kaz drew in a deep breath. This bathroom, indeed. He’d kind of been avoiding it. This was where he’d first felt her skin, had tried to kiss her, and it had sent him reeling into nightmares of his past. He hadn’t thought of it as reconnaissance then. He had just been a boy, trying to be with the girl he liked, and instead only hopelessly embarrassing himself.

Inej seemed to sense how he withdrew at the memory and held out a soapy hand to him.

“Come here,” she said, tenderly. But Kaz hesitated. Wanting. Lusting. But knowing better.

“Wet skin is a non-starter for me,” he rasped, shifting uncomfortably.

“Of course it is.” Inej looked apologetic as she pulled her hand back. She shifted in the tub, pulling at the drain.

“Don’t get out on my account,” Kaz said.

“I need to be with you when you’re making that face,” Inej insisted, and she stepped out of the tub. He still couldn’t get enough of the sight of her wet body, glistening in the lamp light, beads of moisture running in rivulets down her rich golden legs as she toweled off.

“What face?” Kaz asked.

Inej wrapped the towel around herself, tucking it over her breasts, and stepped in front of him, resting her hands on his hips. She gave a playful tug at his belt.

“You get a look when you think something’s broken beyond repair,” she said, and looked up at him with her wide, adoring eyes. “And half the time, you prove yourself wrong within the next 24 hours anyway. I love to watch that part. But not the broken face. Broken face is heart-wrenching.”

Without armor. If he was to ever have her, to love her the way she deserved, she needed to see every ugly truth the armor hid. Every time he got close, that is what her lock demanded. Without armor. He swallowed hard as he rested his hands on the wet terrycloth on her hips, holding her close.

“I half-expected to die that night,” he confessed. How glad he was he hadn’t.

“I would never have let that happen.” Inej’s gaze was steely as flint, and he believed her. But there was something else.

“It would have been a relief,” he said, lowly.

Inej pulled back and held his dark gaze, as if to hold this new plate of armor with all the love she had.

“And now?” she asked, holding him tighter. He felt her intent in the pull of her embrace, the same intent he held in his chest in every battle against their demons. Stay with me. I can’t lose this.

“I was a kid then with nothing more to lose,” he told her, and let his forehead dip to touch hers. “But now I have everything.”

He could sense her smile even as he closed his eyes, reveling in her warmth and how it no longer called to his ghosts. But then she stepped back and turned, hoisting herself up onto the countertop, still holding her towel in place. Her hair spilled loose down her back as she reached to him, pulling him closer again between her knees, the same spot where they’d tried to get close those years ago and had each nearly keeled over from the other’s proximity.

“You know the best part about surviving, I’m sure,” she said, pulling him by his tie.

“Tell me,” he said with a crooked smile. He placed his hands on the counter either side of her hips, leaning in.

“When you survive, your story isn’t over,” said Inej, as she loosened the tie knot. She pulled it off through his collar and let it drop to the floor. “And sometimes, if you’re very lucky, you get the chance to write over parts you don’t like.”

She leaned back on her hands, extending her slender neck out ever so slightly with a pointed look in her eye. The smell of lavender and soap bubbles wafted from her clean hair, and Kaz drew in a breath. He would have to have been an idiot not to catch her meaning. Go on, she was saying. Write the story we wanted.

This time, when he pressed a soft kiss to her neck, he felt her soft pulse against his lips, her fresh scent all around him, and the desire coursing through his body. She gave a soft, contented sigh and slid her hands up his shoulders as he straightened his body to meet her lips again and again, rewriting and rewriting.  

“Better,” she whispered when he finally pulled back, and she brushed the tip of her nose against his. “Much better.”

His heart was pounding mercilessly in his chest, and when he reached up to cup her precious cheek in one hand, she leaned her head into his fingers, kissing his wrist, and it shattered him.

“I never want this to end,” he said, his voice husky. Much better, indeed.

“Then don’t stop,” Inej whispered, and he brought her lips back to his.

He could sense her urgency rising, the desperation with which she began to pull him to her body, to weave her fingers into his hair, and it would have been easy to break, to let her have her way with him again. But they had a deal. Kaz Brekker never made a deal he didn’t keep. So, this was no time to lose his head, to grab at everything he wanted. He’d been preparing for this moment. If he was going to make good and pay back what he owed, he was going to have to run this like breaking into Kerch bank vault.

She was already above him, propped up on the bathroom counter of her own volition. That was a good sign, good leverage. Inej did not like being prone with him or forced into anything, and no one could fault her for that.

He brought his hands to her face, running his fingertips from her cheeks to her hair as she sighed into his mouth. He felt her part her lips to him, felt the brush of her tongue, and, emboldened, he ran his hands down her bare shoulders, her skin prickling in goosebumps.

“I love what your hands can do,” she shivered. She was pulling at the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest where he felt as hot as a furnace against her cool hands. Let her have some control; she thrived with it. She slipped her hands into his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders until it dropped to the tile below.

He held her waist in his hands as she clutched at his shoulders, her thighs tightening on his hips as their kiss deepened. It took every ounce of restraint Kaz had to not taste every inch of her mouth, not pull at the rest of his clothing and beg her to just fuck him already please. There was nothing but a towel separating her bare breasts from his skin, and, Saint fucking hell, he wanted this. He wanted her. Her exposed thighs felt like silk against his sides, and he could only imagine what the rest of her felt like. His hands dipped a little lower, exploring the slope of her ass.

“More,” Inej panted, and Kaz couldn’t hold back a groan. He gave her ass a little squeeze, and she chuckled against his mouth. Running his hands along the underside of her thighs, he pulled her closer, letting her hook her legs around him. Heat from her cunt radiated across his lower abdomen.

“Saints, Inej,” he rasped, breathless. His slacks were uncomfortably tight, and she had to notice. When she pulled back, he was sure she had and braced himself, but there was no look of terror in her eyes this time. No, she had something else in mind.

She held up one hand and, slowly, sucked on two of her fingers. And then, with Kaz’s jaw slack in lust and awe, she slipped her hand between her legs, beneath the towel. And with her eyes on him, she began to knead.

Kaz hardly dared to breathe. He’d imagined, but he’d never seen… he’d researched for advice, like any decent con artist, but he’d only hoped…

He watched the rise and fall of the tops of her breasts in rapture, waiting for any sign that he could approach without setting off alarms. When she let out a little moan and put a hand to his chest again, he gently leaned in, taking her lips once more. He tried to put as much love and admiration and passion into that kiss as he could muster, slowly slipping his hands back to the lithe curve of her waist.

Her breathing deepened as she worked herself, and she moaned softly, her eyes falling shut. Kaz ran his fingers lightly up and down her arm, knowing what he wanted, trying to work out a strategy.

It had to be like picking a pocket. Replacing a wallet with an exact weight, so quick, no one noticed.

He kissed her ear as her head fell to the side, and then, slowly, traced the silky soft length of her arm, slipping under the towel, before gently curling his fingers over hers. She stopped the movement, but didn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t running.

He paused, too, breathing heavily in spite of himself. She was wet, practically soaked, against their fingers, and, for a brief moment, he felt the lapping of water at his ankles. He fixed his eyes on the pulse in her neck. He focused on the sound of her breath, the labored breathing of her desire. He inhaled the soap and the lavender scent of her. She was alive. So very alive. And after a moment, the dread passed, and he was still there and so was she, and his longing for her hadn’t diminished.

“Show me,” he whispered against her ear, and she leaned her head against his.

He traced the movements of her fingers, delicate, like picking a lock in the dark, slow circles around her tender nub of skin.

“Kaz,” she whispered, in a tone he was sure he’d never heard before. Lock tumblers clicking into place.

He moved his fingers as she did, through the velvety skin of her folds, until her hand dropped away from his, her eyes still closed as she bit her lip.

“I’ve wanted this,” she confessed with a groan. Kaz was out of words. Locks didn’t usually talk back, and they were never this gorgeous.

And then when she leaned back further on the counter, the towel began to slip and she did nothing to stop it. It fell away behind her, leaving every bit of her exposed to him, the full swell of her breasts and the tense muscles of her core, and Kaz didn’t mean to, but he swore out loud.

“Don’t stop,” she begged him, her arms starting to shake as she leaned back against them. “Please, Kaz, more.”

His mind was a scramble of every touch he’d ever given, every encouraging sign she’d ever given him. More what? Where to start? With his spare hand, he traced her neck again, down her sternum between her breasts, watching the line of goosebumps spring along her skin.

“With your mouth,” she gasped, and he sprang at the chance to oblige. She quivered while he trailed a line of kisses from her neck down her chest, and, growing bolder, took one dark nipple tenderly in his mouth. When she didn’t object, he ran his tongue around its rim, tasting its foreign sweetness and feeling her gasps of pleasure swell through her chest.

She raked her fingers through his hair as he felt her breathing grow haggard beneath his lips, and her hips bucked restlessly against his long fingers. He had a moment of nerves that she was growing frustrated with his inexperience, and, with a silent prayer, he slipped a digit inside of her.

She let out an audible sigh, clenching at his hair, and he knew he’d hit the right combination. As soft as before, he stroked her ridges along her cunt, still carding his thumb through her folds as she had.

Her arms gave out altogether, and he found himself standing over her as she laid back on the countertop, her hair spilling into the sink, a flush spreading across her breasts. Her body arched; her pussy felt as taut as a bowstring. He’d never seen anything so glorious in his life.

Curses fell from her beautiful lips when she came, head tilted back as a shudder overtook her whole body, spasming on his fingers. She gripped his forearm to steady herself, leaving half-moon nail marks in his skin. And then she stilled, naked, spent and breathing hard, feet on the counter with her knees bent in the air.

Kaz leaned over and kissed her forehead while she gave a breathless hum of satisfaction.

“This bathroom,” she remarked again, heaving an exhausted sigh. Her cheeks were rosy as she smiled brightly up at him. Kaz grinned, crookedly, a victorious lockpick’s smile.

“This bathroom,” he agreed.

Much, much better.

Next work in this series: These Damn Crosswinds