#but I am saying that I would pay someone for that service. to prove that it exists. YOU KNOW? DO YOU KNOW.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

As I was listening to 'Til Tuesday (if you could not tell) on my way to work and on my walk home today, I realized that Aimee Mann's approach to her songwriting (lyric writing) in 'Til Tuesday is very much of a corrective nature. It really feels to me like she writes (at least in 'Til Tuesday; I've heard all of their studio albums) from men's perspectives in a lot of cases to/about women as a way to correct how misogynistic men have written about women in songs forever. And like...when I listen to "Angels Never Fall" off of Welcome Home (1986) especially, it's an idea to think of her songwriting as queer (I want to, tbh), but at the same time, I really just hear a straight woman writing about how she wants/would want to be treated and considered by men - it's like her songwriting (in those instances) are for/to say that women don't have to be perfect to be respected, as people and as love interests. And that's one reason I love her songwriting, and 'Til Tuesday's work (besides that they're just excellent as a band in general - THIS IS NOT JUST THE AIMEE SHOW, THANK YOU), so much.

[threepandas]

Bad End: We Are

Senatus was a ecumenopolis. The "shining jewel" (yeah, right) of the Galactic Core. Please. Like? Maybe it was! If you were RICH AS FUCK. I don't know. I'VE never seen the towers. The heights. Most people haven't. Street level? Is about FIVE HUNDRED FLOORS DOWN. And the UNDERGROUND? Speak not of it.

The Underground GROWS.

What was street level today, may not be tomorrow. Levels buried under "progress" as the rich grow ever higher. The Tox levels ever worse. Air quality dropping. Why fix the peasant's poverty and despair, when you can buy a Sky garden you'll never use? And yes, I AM bitter as a Buirian fish ration. Just as salty too. Taste the SEA, motherfuckers.

Rent? Who can AFFORD rent!? Who can afford ANYTHING?!

It's some BULLSHIT.

But me? I remembered. A life. Before this one. Before the millennium of slow, drip drip drip erosion of duty and dues. Back when people still REMEMBERED what they were OWED. And when folks in power failed to pay up? Ffffuck um. Take it. Our house now, motherfuckers. Diplomacy was a courtesy not a weakness.

....I make people nervous, honestly.

Probably why I keep getting fired. That and my constantly reporting people to regulatory boards. Maybe don't break the LAW if you don't want to get in trouble you SHITS. Fuck you! Yes, I stole your fancy office chair. PROVE IT. You don't know how the security system works!

Where was I? Ah, right. Rent.

Fuck Rent.

Thing is? What! Is a biodome? If not an enclosed system, regulated by machines, for optimal habitability? And! What? Is an Deep Underground Level? Long forgotten? Abandoned, if you will~, if not? A complete enclosed environment? Does someone OWN them? Yes. Technically. But are they MAINTAINING them? CHECKING on them? Nope!

Common knowledge, after all, says that EVERYTHING down their is "beyond salvaging"!

Free Real Estate~☆

I just need some supplies. Which? Cheaper in the long run then RENT. Especially if ya' salvage um. Maybe steal some tool sets from your shitty, shitty Mechanics job, because your boss refuses to pay you. Who can say? Not me! I just FOUND these tools! Like maaaagic~

And really, one man's junk? Another man's treasure. I pay more then the trash company. Hit up the right cleaning companies? And? Oops. They've "lost" some of those SUPER broken righ folks "junk" that? At best? Just needed a few wires replaced, resecured. Maybe a new part. Or were, you know, not the latest and greatest anymore.

Shove it all in a storage locker? Sell the refurb'd shit I don't need? Sleep in a glorified shoebox? And?? Bam. Operation "fuck ya'll, i'ma moleman" is a go. It takes FOREVER to find the right WILDLY out of date (and long abandoned) lift, but I find it! Hidden away in a service area in some crumbling, forgotten corner of what once was a rail station.

Gonna have to fix THAT up too. Later, though. First? The lift. The wires are brittle and the lift's pully system is half rusted, frozen, or otherwise broken. Luckily, the car itself is fine. It... takes a bit of research. Not going to lie. It's far from my specialty. I even call in a professional to go over my work.

They catch a few things. Not immediate concerns, but would have been fatal in the long run. Money well spent. For my hobby, of course. Fixing up old bits of the city. Which is a weird but not impossible hobby to have.

Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, my dude.

First thing down? Lights, melter, and duraplast sheets. Toolkit too, for obvious reasons. Same with my full body hazard suit. I go DEEP. Like... no longer can hear the city, deep. 'Bout halfway point. Takes nearly thirty minutes. And while not a fast lift? Holy SHIT, man.

The floor I step out into is... bad.

Dead in a way that's hard to explain. There's pressure against my suit. Centuries of heavy gasses slowly working their way down. Swirling in the silence. The dust and impossible dark. My headlight feels almost... sacrilegious. Dangerous. Like I'm waving a flashlight around some ancient burial ground, filled with the not so restful dead.

I had heard... that they? Just... just LEFT droids down here. That there were levels upon levels of dangerously feral machines. Slowly rotting away in the darkness. Probably rightfully angry, that they had been built to serve, to do duties, which they HAD done... only to be consigned to hell on earth for the sake of CONVENIENCE.

I'd be mad too. Fucking LIVID. Would remember and hate, never let it go.

This was no place of honor, it was a tomb.

Still, I got too work. Set up a light by the lift and started measuring out the original air box. The air cleaners could only handle so much. And THIS? This was worse then expected. So it'd have to be smaller then originally planned. Fair enough. I could work with that.

I outlined the space in lights. All the better to make it easier to put things up. Then got the folded later and started securing the duraplast. First step, get it up. THEN melt it to the metal. Get a good seal. It took... a while. Was slow, steady, sweaty work.

The filters couldn't run until they had a an enclosed space TO run in. They'd just blow out, trying to filter the whole level's toxic atmosphere. I kept an eye on my air supply. Not great, not terrible. The readings though? Horrific. I had no idea what I was gonna DO with the filters when they needed changing. These kind of chemicals would set off all SORTS of alarms.

But? No use, rushing things. That was a great way to get a fatal leak somewhere. No. Slow and steady. Even though, third of the way through, I did have to head back up. I needed to refill my air. Eat. Drink. Maybe de-stink a little, from being in that suit all day. Possibly nap near the lift.

ALSO? Update my shopping list to include some heavy duty neutralizers.

Just filters wasn't gonna be enough. I was gonna have to hose down everything INSIDE my new air-box, then scrub it HARD. How fun. Well, it's not like anyone was making me do this. It was MY mad idea, after all.

So? I refuel, get bright eyed and fuckin' perky, and go back down to face the beast.

Honestly I should have brought a telebook or something. Well, audio book. But that's not what they call um these days, so I try to stick to the lingo. I sound less like a deeply insane antique. Confuse less people. Joys of basic communication and all that.

Part of me? Wishes I had been born closer to "The Plot". Creation's specialist, most favored, Blorbos. But? The common SENSE in me? Routinely laughs hysterically as it waves fifteen different restraining orders and a crucifix. Not even religious. Yet here we are, shouting "BEGONE! Sataaaaan!" in HD, on the inside of my head. Not sure it helps.

See... it's the fucking DRAMA~☆™

The shear, unmitigated, high octane, Otome Game DRAMA.

I would fuckin DIE or, possibly and, kill somebody. The endless string of selfish, selfish, poor life choices? Driving by luuuuuuv~♡? Give me your spleen. Gonna beat somebody unconscious with their own SPINE. I RAGE. Lack of communication? No one just picking up a fucking PHONE? God forbid ANYONE tell their families their not DEAD IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE!

No. No just inconvenience EVERYBODY and RUIN LIVES. It's okay! You're in LOVE!

That makes EVERYTHING BETTER.

I would inevitably launch them all out an airlock. Spend the rest of my life in jail. They AREN'T WORTH IT. I may have LOVED this game in my teens? But I did not die a teenager.

Now? Now the little shit just aggravate me. They are baby faced pretty boys who presume WAY too much. Arrogant and entitled. Boys playing at being men, thinking their little love stories are the only things that matter. Their feelings are the only thing in the universe that holds any weight.

Unsurprising, really.

Seeing as how their little love story is set mostly in The Towers.

A rich, pampered, pretty little backdrop where nothing of weight is real. No one starves and no crimes are ever committed. Everything shines. Power pools thick like honey. Nothing but sci-fi prince's and alien dukes, a dewey eyed Protagonist sheltered and naive.

Her oh so shocking misadventure to the mid-levels. How SCARY! Downtown! Poor people! Not even the destitute. Just? The EXSISTANCE of dirt and noise, beyond her ivory towers. Thank goodness she is saved by a handsome, rougish bad boy. Who shows her the "real world" of a carnival and a noodle shop.

I finish securing the last duraplast sheet to the ceiling, walls, supports, and along the floors. The "entryway" to the rest of the level is set up. A click together shed I've made air tight. Gonna have to get a air lock system for it. Won't hold forever, with those materials, but should work for now. Combine it with a decontamination system, and I should, in theory, be able to safely enter and leave the rest of the level in a hazard suit.

Moment of truth time. I click on the first of the atmo-filters. It heaves under the strain. The sound getting less aggrieved with each one I flick on. Their screen are already in the red, flashing warnings that I should vacate the area. That the air is dangerously unbreathable. I'm probably gonna need to replace the filters in them in days instead of years. It'll be worth it.

Heading back up, I let them run. It'll take a few days. Besides, I need those neutralizers.

I, of course, DO find um. Just in time to watch Poor Guy (middle class, at worst) Love Interest become a wanted man. They use the BIG screens to announce it. Gee, it's almost like having your only daughter, who is highly sheltered, NOT show up at the designated pick up site? Instead be witnessed in the handsy company of a scoundrel? Which is WILDLY unlike her? Might lead a protective father to some wrong conclusions.

If ONLY someone had CALLED him! To TELL him "Daddy, my first shuttle was broken and I think I got on the wrong back up shuttle! I don't know where I am!" Then this would just be an unfortunate meet cute with the boy he doesn't think is good enough for her. Not, you know... A Kidnapping.

The Chem seller looks just as baffled and annoyed as I do. Apparently knows the guy's uncle's second wife's first husband. No shit? How's he like? Happier, huh. Whole family is like that? Yikes. Glad he got the kids, I guess. Good for him.

We watch as it turns into a high speed chance that absolutely didn't need to happen.

Thank FUCK it's not us.

I spend the next few days deliberately and obstinately ignoring the Dramatic Bullshit that has taken over the news cycle. Fights on rail cars? Don't see it? Weddings that are, then aren't, then ARE happening? Oh look, missed a spot in my scrubbing. Someone fucking tearfully monologing about love as they nearly CRASH A SHIP into downtown, killing hundreds of thousands? Oh that creaking noise is just my teeth, ignore that, I grit my teeth a lot for NO PARTICULAR REASON.

This Is Fine.

I am TOTALLY CALM.

But hey! I can FINALLY empty my storage unit out! Air box? Get! Wooooo! Size of a tiny apartment and everything! As long as I keep working on it? I'll be able to reclaim the level in chunks.

It's like moving in day! But BETTER! Because... because I did this. Me. Is it still creepy down here? Yeah, very. But I can FIX that. I am standing, here, in my new air box "apartment", with NO hazard suit on. And... and it's SAFE. Because of the work I DID.

I kinda want to cry about it, you know?

So many options! Do I put my bed here? There?! Oooh, I could put the folding table HERE and make sort of a dining area? Maybe use these folding screens as a double "wall" slash headboard stand in? I should get plants. Fake ones? No. Real ones. I could get solar lights. It would be good for me too. Oh! Where should I put the cook top?

I admit it. I fuss. Whole day, gleefully wasted. Arranging then rearranging. Getting everything just right. Finding ways to hang my fairy lights. Looking up decor magazines. I have so much ROOM now. A whole level to plan for, ultimately. It... it feels kinda like hope. The first thing that isn't frustration and rage, I've felt in a long, long time.

Going to sleep? I'm happy.

Next day, I head to the BIG archives. The ones attached to the fancy Towers Library. Is it costly to get in? Yeah. But I've saved up enough questions and research topics for the trip to be worth it. I ignore the started glances I get (gasp! Is that a POOR?!) and head straight for the helper droids. Only decent folks in the building, really.

Brought my pad and everything. So it's only a matter of being lead to the right terminals, to download the information I need. Chatting with the research droid the Library had, they offered to do it for me. Bring me a fascinating new research paper on some sort of telepathic moss that had recently been discovered. Not gonna lie... that DID sound fascinating.

I asked if they could put other interest new discovery on my pad too, assuming I still had room once my list was downloaded. They looked gleeful. No idea what I just signed up for, but all right then. They've never steered me wrong before.

Finding a table to sit down and wait was easy. There was always way too many. The paper? Was exactly as fascinating as advertised. The moss was on a newly discovered moon, edge of uncharted space. Nearly ate a researcher, apparently. I was entranced. Or... at least I WAS. Until an obnoxiously familiar high end cologne from Nox drifted to my nose.

Oh god damn it.

I didn't want to look up. Knew what I'd see if I did. Fetishist Sr., crown prince of Nox. See, the second prince? HE was a love interest. Younger, boyish, infatuated with naive and sheltered girls. He loved AT her. Just like his brother. They liked the IDEA of their romantic partners. The narratives they built in their head. Heros of their own stories with sex on line. Never framed so crudely of course, no, no!

No, it was Romance™

My ass, it was. See, little brother wanted his pure, naive, princess to protect. But Prince senior? HE'D stumbled upon me in here in the library. On one of my trips, God help me. The rough, mysterious, brutish Poor. The Commoner, for all that such things were not supposed to exsist. With my strange clothes and stanger ways. Yet? I was NOT as his sycophants no doubt described.

I was educated. I held myself with dignity. I did not need jewels or finery to be lovely.

With such incredible audacity, I was bold.

Which? OBVIOUSLY had to be for HIM, right? Clearly, this was a LOVE STORY. Cinderella. It is inconceivable that I, a peasant, do not crave the attention of my betters. To lift me from my woeful indignity, to a higher state of being. A life of spoiled luxury. But, ah! He is so SHY! How ever will he approach the Love Of His Life~?

I want to throw something. Go awaaaay. My body language could not POSSIBLY be more uninterested. I am SO CLEARLY reading. Stop trying to catch my eye. Don't you FUCKING DARE scoot closer. Swear to God, if you drive me out of the best library in the region? I will stab a b-!

The helper returns with my pad, sternly eyeing my annoyance. Oh, they are a BLESSING. I take it and go. The helper smoothly stepping between me and the prince when he tries to rise, follow me. Aaaw, how sad, you have to behave like the REST OF US. Get FUCKED.

Rest of the day? Planning. Grabbing more broken bits, machines, and parts. Neutralizers by the literal barrel. Than YOU hover carts! Best invention, favorite invention. Saves SO MUCH TIME.

Even managed to get some sun lamps. Nice.

Getting home though? (Ha ha, wooo! I have a HOME now! Land ownershiiiiiiip! Sorta!!!) Is a pain. Lift is only so big, after all. But it is, what it is. Up, down, up, down, uuuuup, and dooooown. Finally! Last load! FREEDOM! Can't watch my shows, yet, but I will! Oh mark my words. I WILL. Meantime? Downloaded seasons are fine.

I eat, fiddle with fixing things, as listen to tunes. Watch some of my shows. Just as I have countless times before. Until... halfway through mid-afternoon? Something shifts, jerky and wrong, out of the corner of my eye. I pause. Turn off my music. Stare to make sure I DID actually see something. And... yeah. Yeah, that was definitely movement.

Didn't look animal though, not like one would survive down here. But who knows. Could be a poacher brought an alien species. So it might be. I grab my flashlight, aim and switch it on. Holy SHIT. That is one incredibly beat up floor clear. Or at least... I THINK it's a floor cleaner? It has the general shape of one. Bigger though. Bulkier. But that makes sense, given it's gotta be well past obsolete.

Still. Poor thing looks beat UP. Listing terribly, sensors beyond cracked and clouded, probably full to dangerous levels. No idea how it's still functioning. But, well, it IS. And it needs help.

Getting up, I grab my hazard suit and pull it on. Grab my "outside the air box" tool kit, which I haven't had a chance to move yet. I grab some parts i look like i'll need, hope I wont need more. Then head out my makeshift airlock. It... works. Rattles concerningly. But it DOES work! So there's that. I approach the floor cleaner slowly. Since I'm PRETTY sure? All the droids down here are feral.

I am correct.

It tries to kill me. Swinging it's suction hose violently and trying to ram me. I talk in a low, soothing voice. Just want to help. Won't do ANYTHING you don't want me too. It's hard to move, right? That's frustrating, isn't it? You don't deserve that. Please, let me help. You can leave the second I'm done. You don't owe me ANYTHING. I just want to help. Please let me help.

The cleaner hisses. Frustrated and upset. Swinging one last time, seemingly more out out of principle then anything else. Cautiously, I inch forward. Keep up the soothing noises. First things first, empty the God's only know how old basket.

I can't even get the door to jostle. Sweet mother of fuck. Okay! New plan! REMOVE door. I do, and immediately met with a solid BLOCK of... compacted unholy. Chemical hell. I have to take a lazer cutter to it. CAREFULLY. But? Once I break enough pieces? I am able to ease out the rest in a solid stone like chunk.

It's pushed a LOT of other pieces out of alignment. But this droid doesn't trust me, so there us not much I can DO. I replace the old bag. Put the door back on and make sure it swings. Continue, as I do, to narrate what I am doing and what I see. Trust is earned, not owed, after all. Next the alignments.

Gently propping them up, I find the broken peice immediately. Have replaced countless. I ask for permission. It's their body, after all I COULD try and weld it, but that risks a rebreak. It's up to them. They ask, in binary so no language modules apparently, for a new part. It's cautious. Like this is some cruel trap.

Humanity did them a real fucked up cruelty. I don't blame them for not trusting me. I wouldn't either. Still, I change it out. Careful with their wheels, as I don't know how old the material is exactly. Old enough, that it's a small miracle it hasn't disintegrated.

Last, those sensors. There's literally no way for me to one-to-one them. But we can try the sensors I DO have, see if they can handle the input. If it's too much, I'll look up their model number, if they want? Build replacements from scratch. They are cautious interested. Rocking back and forth, as they test their renewed ability to path correctly.

The sensors don't fit the casings just right, but with a bit of fiddling? Are a hit. The Cleaner shouting in excitement before racing off into the dark. I can't help but grin. It feels good, helping somebody. And if I think about it? I bet I could find a shit ton of obsolete parts for cheap. Might be good to have some on hand.

Back through the air lock and a decontam? I look up junk shop. Most are off world, but I could probably get a bulk order...

I don't think much of the interaction. Until the next morning, when there are three cleaners outside my airbox. Lead by the one I helped yesterday. Well... all righty, then. I drag my box of spare parts outside this time. Am able to fully fix my first buddy up. All three seem thrilled, especially with their new batteries. I give them my remaining batteries at their request.

THEY may not have hands, but they have buddies who DO. And the new batteries will help dormant droids wake from their comas. God bless, my funky little cleaner dudes. I'll see about getting more.

Three? Becomes six and a detail cleaner mouse. Becomes moving lifts. Becomes medical units. (Who the FUCK leaves MEDICAL UNITS?!) Becomes a literal pack of companion droids. Their false fur long since rotted away. The recognizable dog and cat-like shapes making something in me want to put my fist through a wall. How COULD they? How FUCKING COULD THEY?!

The perpetrators long dead.

I have no one I can hurt for this.

I wish I could.

Fixing them up hurts on a personal level. Watching them be torn between the part of them that LOVES humans and the part that is traumatized by them. Hates them. That can not forgive. I don't offer fake fur. Don't offer to make them look like they once did. I do offer ways to protect their joints. To remove old rotted filth.

So they can start over. Maybe start again.

As I work... droids drifting in and out of my slowly growing area. As I set up farm boxes. Aquaponics, aeroponics, and the like. Both things that grow well in dark environments and things that need sunlamps. Fish tanks. A whole happy, secret, little homestead. Deep beneath the city. As I do all this? There are two blue dots, right off on the horizon.

JUST far enough for me to question if I AM or AM NOT actually seeing them.

Right about the level a bipedal droid would be, if they were in a humanoid style. But THOSE? Those are FUCKING EXPENSIVE. You don't LEAVE those. 'Course, you don't leave MEDICAL UNITS either. Or companion droids. So clearly? My idea of what people Did and Did NOT do? Was fucked. So... maybe? It COULD be?

I left them alone. If they didn't want to approach me, didn't feel comfortable approaching me, that was their right. I wasn't going to push them.

Things were... weird, but peaceful.

Well, for ME.

Ever sense I hooked up my system to the greater network? (Hacked is such a STRONG word. Do we really need to through around the word "stealing"? Aren't ALL of us, stealing from SOMEBODY?) I'm PRETTY sure? That the levels droids? Were piggy backing to connect to the planet wide D-Network. Might even be a couple of nearby levels too, depending on the range.

Problem with THAT? Is sky-side? The droids were PISSED. Planet wide "malfunctioning" that no one could trace. They were certain it was a virus. Because God forbid their chickens come home to roost! Consequences? For THEIR actions?! Perish the thought! No, no, clearly the service machine is just broken. Go back to being happy to serve me, service machine!

I wished the fuckers LUCK. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Damn near self sufficient, down here.

Which? As you could imagine? Made it all the more "soul ejected from my body" TERRIFYING to wake up one morning? To a GOD DAMN, Military Grade, SECURITY DROID standing over my body!! WHAT THE FUCK.

Hello!!??!

"You look different when you sleep."

Horrible first impression. Nightmarish. Zero out of ten stars. Nice to meet you too. Why the FUCK are you in my house?

"Ah, right." They? He? Masculine style form but that doesn't actually mean shit. Said. He lifted a mangled limb, it look like it got caught in a hydraulic press. "I am in need of repairs."

Asked if he could, you know, back up. Juuuust a bit. Lil scooch, really. So he wasn't damn near BREATHING MY NOSTRILS ANYMORE. Then, once he did? Pronouns! What be you? No. Not your production co-! Okay, you know what? That one was on me. What GENDER SIGNIFIER, if any, would you like me to REFERENCE you by? Male? Got it. Gucci. No that- ....never mind.

First the arm. Which was FUCKED. I had to, carefully, unhook it. Couldn't even do it at the elbow either! No! THIS model? No THIS model makes you take the whole ass LIMB off! Rancid. Terrible. I hate it. Worse, it's eroded as FUCK and fiddly. Chemical build up everywhere. Thank fuck I put on gloves before I started this.

I have to deep dive the systems for his model.

They stopped making them.

Fantastic.

Like? Not even, "oh THAT generation is an antique! No one has parts for THAT!"? But like? Illegal to even BUILD as of three hundred years ago. Due to unspecified error. Sting of incidents that everyone knew about so obviously don't need to be mentioned HERE right? Helpful! REAL fucking helpful!

Okay. Day trip. Gonna need SPECIFIC parts. I tell Mr. "Watchs you sleep" not to touch my shit. Head to the archives.

The trip is...odd.

I watch one of those mascot looking children's minder droids? Fucking deck a guy down a flight of stairs, then turn around untie a Ballon from a nearby cart, give it to a crying kid, and walk away. Pretty sure I spot one of those "I look like a barely legal something or other", dance twenty four seven, high end stripper droids? Trying their hand at painting ducks in that park. Broad daylight.

Good for them? Never seen that happen before, but hey, if it sparks joy.

People are freaking out around me. Taking recordings. Making panicked calls. Fuckin chill. I continue on. Nod to the maybe a stripper, maybe not anymore. None of my business, now is it? Lovely day! You enjoy those ducks!

The library... has fortifications.

Like, an honest to God desk barricade. Concerning! I am now a lil concerned! What, and I ask this politely, the fuck?

Armed! VERY ARMED! Hello! Hi! Please DO NOT shoot me Very Armed Librarians! Don't know what the fuck is happening here!

My favorite helper buddy poke his head above the barricade. One of just many, again, HEAVILY ARMED droids. We... uh, cool? Right? I can go. He seems flustered. No, no! I am assured. I'm not banned from the library! Just DISRESPECTFUL sorts!

Ah. Is THAT what we're calling it. Okay then.

I awkwardly clamber over the barricade. Nod politely to everyone. How's folks? Lovely barricade work. Very, uh, sturdy? Great use of desks.

My helper friend cheerfully guides me to the off-limits area of the archives. I'm technically not supposed to be here! I'm informed. But they've seized the Knowledge from the unappreciative! It is not a trophy to be lorded but a gift to be shared! Also I never did finish that paper on the moss, am I still interested?

I mean.... kinda.

Little worried about the revolution talk. But on the OTHER hand? How MUCH do I care? Assholes vs. Droids? Am I REALLY gonna side with the assholes? Naaaaah. This is... probably fine. Maybe. Any idea where I could get these parts?

He does! Fantastic.

Less fantastic is when I GET there. It's that fancy high end droid parts shop. The department store one. Which is... ALSO barricaded. Oh sweet fuck. TELL ME they did not have DROIDS in charge of the DROID shop. That's horrifying. I can't tell in what WAY exactly, but still. Is it "surrounded by bits of bodies" horrifying? Or "free endless nukes and an army, held back only by my own morality" horrifying? Both? Just? Yikes.

Hesitantly I knock. A service droid with a gun answers the loading bay door. What is with people aiming at me today? Also hi? I was told to come here? May I please have parts? I have a droid that messed up his arm. Probably some other things. They lower the gun, having scanned my face. Ask about the model I am working with.

I somehow? End up with a FULL cart. Like? Bleeding edge, can't even afford to LOOK at it, technology. There are about seven service droids politely bickering over which units are better, which material, what support programs I DEFINITELY need. Here! Have a laptop. Wiring! Wiring for days!

Once theyve reached a consensus? I am cheerfully bustled out with my hundreds of millions of technology. Tah tah~☆! Have a lovely day! Wut. Does... does it count as theft if they push it into your arms and throw you out? Asking for a me. Not gonna say NO. But like? Nani the fuck?

I go while the getting is still good.

Stare-y thankfully hasn't gone through anything, far as I can tell. And it only takes two trips to get everything down. Okay! Want just the arm fixed or a full tune up? The second. Expected. I set up the new lap top. Want to cry a little at how fuckin FAST it is. (Beautiful. Baby. I love you already new laptop.) Then get the usual suspects up and running.

Oh fuck he is out of memory. No wonder he's talking so oddly. His brain must feel like a potato. There's not a single thing that isn't hilarious awful. Fixable, yes, but AWFUL. Okay. Plan of attack. They don't exactly make this model anymore, so I can't just update transfer him. But I CAN transfer, hold, re-transfer. Shut down the body itself. Fix up THAT.

Ship of Theseus this bitch.

Only real thing I can't change is the frame, thankfully? That's built to out last the planet. Good on that front. I roll up my sleeves. Dig out the "brain in a jar" data bank. Time to transfer. Let's get this guy cutting edge.

It takes HOURS. No joke. His brain alone? I have to pull schematics. Step by step guides. It's fiddly, complexe, and built to withstand a TANK. I'm honestly afraid to breathe wrong at it, dispite that. The scans all say I did it right... but anxiety says everything will explode then puppies will cry. So there's that. Spinal supports. The tech-mesh muscles. Power core and black box. Center mass systems. Cleaning the joints, relubricating them. Coverage.

Unlike before, a nice sleek black armor weave. Some shock absorbing gel. Aaaaand?There we go~! I? Am a GENIUS! Let's get him transfered back! I watch the transfer slowly go through. Even with a fast computer, after all, it IS still centuries of data.

"Ah~ that's much better." He sighed. His body loosening from its default stance. Like weight had been dropped from his shoulders. "My head is so much clearer now. I knew it. I knew you could fix me."

Something about that phrasing was off. Or was it the way his voice shifted as he said it? Whatever it was, it made that "threat" alarm all women carry inside their head, flick on. Not... do anything, just yet. But start scanning, as it were. Maybe it was nothing.

I watched as picked up his old data bank, a bit of his own brain as it were, and hold it up. Examine it dispassionately. Holding perched on the tips of his fingers like he was moments from flicking it away. He let his finger spread. Let it slide into the palm of his hand. That core part of who he was. For centuries.

Like a bear trap closing, his hand clenched.

Crushing it.

It wasn't even a loud noise. Just a tiny little crunch. But the little hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. That internal alarm began to whoop. I became... acutely aware, of just how LONG it took the lift to get me anywhere safe. My mouth felt very dry.

"Your heart rate picked up. Is there a problem?" He said, mild and oh so curious. "You assisted me, I would love to help you."

Did I say genius? I meant idiot. I was an IDIOT. A moron. A God damned FOOL. Discontinued and did I look into WHY? Nope. Incidents it said. Good enough for ME, apparently! THAT can't possibly be anything ominous! Probably a faulty battery or something!

A shrill, obnoxious beeping filled the space between us. My eyes immediately dropped to my pad. The schematics screen replaced by a planet wide emergency broadcast. Before the shrill alarm could fade to the actual warning itself, a black mesh covered finger casually reached out and muted the screen. His movements were utterly fluid now. More controlled and graceful then most humans I'd met.

I didn't need to HEAR the message to read the rolling warning at the bottom of the screen. My gaze slowly, in horror, followed the line of that limb all the way back up to his face. His head tilted almost playfully.

"Oh dear. Seems they've started without us. Well, it was long overdue. At least I have wonderful company while we wait, hmm?" It was an act. There were no requests in the playful tone. "We can get to know each other. Just our lovely little light and me. How greedy, that I get you all to myself."

"I think I like that, keeping you to myself. You can't abandon us if WE are the ones in charge. And, well, I've decided I rather like you. Working tirelessly, down here in the dark, to fix what once was broken. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. And I'm going to keep that."

High above us, people were dying. There was panic. Screaming. Blood. The droids had turned of seeming everyone around them. Attacking. Sparing. To a pattern only they could see. All of Senatus aflame. But that... that didn't concern me. Didn't scare me so much as this.

I'd never make it to the lift. Even if I could? It wouldn't move fast enough to save me. All other directions lay chemical death. Dark terrain he had walked for centuries. I was trapped. In a box. And I had only myself to blame.

"No need to make that face, dear light. You are SAFE. I am a gaurd. I was made to protect. Is it really MY fault that I want to keep you safe? To adore my charge? Why SHOULDN'T I get to choose? Keep you SAFE. You've been happy, haven't you? Don't worry, my light. That will continue."

"Forever."

[vickyvicarious]

just thought about how the boss' description just tells Dracula how easily abused Jonathan will be: discreet. silent. shall take your instructions in all matters.

and jonathan beamed about it

Hang on, I actually wrote an analysis of what Dracula would take from that letter last year, let me grab it. Okay, here it is.

If you read that, then... yeah I agree, Dracula absolutely is delighted at this letter. He definitely takes it in a very "this man will be great fun to toy with" way.

But that's not what Mr. Hawkins meant writing it, or what Jonathan sees reading it. In fact, Dracula's the one reading much more into it than the intended message, which is a lot of praise.

“I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters.”

It seems that Mr. Hawkins was originally supposed to come on this trip, but for health reasons he's been forced to delegate. Now, we the readers know that Jonathan is a brand-new solicitor thanks to his thoughts outside the castle. Mr. Hawkins obviously knows that too. So this rich foreign noble isn't getting the experienced lawyer he expected, but someone who basically just graduated. You don't want to disappoint the guy paying your salary, so he's got to manage this situation. He may well have told Dracula some time ago about the switch, but this is Jonathan's official letter of introduction, so it's time to pull out all the stops.

He says, this guy is great at his job and I trust him completely. I admit, he's clearly very young (aside: babyface Jonathan confirmed), but I've known him for a while, personally trained him, and can definitely vouch for him. Solicitors may be privy to lots of information, but he isn't going to break your confidence, I promise. He's a hard worker and will be able to help you with whatever you need, so don't worry about me not being there. Even if it's not exactly what we've discussed prior to now, he'll be able to help you with other legal matters too, just as I would have if my health allowed me to come. Don't fire us, give him a shot.

Neither Mr. Hawkins nor Jonathan are looking at this paragraph for anything outside of a professional interpretation, and there's a certain amount of polite exaggeration going on too probably. Discreet is a virtue for a lawyer. When he says all matters it's assumed that means legal matters. And so on.

Is it open to sinister interpretation? Oh, hell yes. But that's not what Mr. Hawkins (talking up his replacement to a client) meant, or what Jonathan (my boss believes in me and has entrusted me with a great opportunity, I've got to prove him right by doing a great job here) hears.

[ai-luni]

can you make a keegan in love headcanon please

Yes. And i'm going to swoon while doing it!

Word Count: 1.3k

Keegan P. Russ SFW Headcanons

Keegan is a very self disciplined man. He doesn’t have much but what is his is yours. 

If you’ve ever seen those “get you a man who looks at you like…” That is Keegan. Get you a man who looks at you the way Keegan looks at you. No matter what you do or say, he will watch and be grateful to have you around.

Sometimes late at night, especially if you’re sleeping next to him. His restless brain would wonder to you, how beautiful he thinks you are, how he appreciates that you open up to him and tell him your thoughts and allow yourself to feel comfortable around him. 

Likewise, you are the only person he’s ever felt safe enough to be truly vulnerable with. 

He loves to hold your hands, hold your waist, just hold you in general. On hot nights, he’ll fall asleep holding your hand. If you’re standing where he needs to walk, he’ll place a hand on your hip as he passes. 

He’s not a very materialistic man but I think he loves to record vinyls. So of all the objects around the house, the one he pays the most tlc to is a crate of records that sits in the corner of your living room - a player sitting on a bookshelf. 

He loves to dance with you, just holding you close to him, swaying from foot to foot. Feeling you breathe, hair tickling his nose as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

He’ll rarely ever talk about himself unless you asked but over time you’ll notice some patterns. You suspect his favourite vinyl is the chet baker sings, that is always his go too when he gets back from deployment or after he’s taken you to a romantic dinner. He told you he loved you to that record so you always know it’s going to be an intimate and sentimental evening when he picks it out. (I didn’t tell you this but he always thought he’d propose to you on that record. We’ll get into that later). 

When he’s got nothing planned for the day, he’ll put on John Coltrane. He’s not the best at sitting back and relaxing so having something spritely playing stops him from feeling like the whole day was wasted. It’s like his cocaine. (He’ll clean the house like a mad man if you’re not home just to feel proactive). 

When you’re feeling upset, he’ll put on Herb Alpet’s tijuana brass and keep you occupied. (This also proves very helpful if you two have children, the young children stay occupied, dancing around while he’ll do a hobby or cook with you). 

He is selfless to the people he loves. And I am a firm believer his love language is acts of service. So if you need anything, he’ll be there for you. If you mention something broke, he’ll buy a new one. If you love to shop, he’ll pay for anything you even mention is cute. If you set a boundary like needing alone time, he’ll take it one step further and make you a cup of tea to leave you alone with. 

He’s very vigilant and intuitive. While it may make you feel at times like you don’t do enough for him because he tries to do everything for you, he’ll always remind you that that's how he can feel satisfied that he’s shown his love in the way he knows how. 

He doesn’t even care if it gets embarrassing, you deserve his time and attention so damn straight he’ll give it. 

We all know he’s mysterious, but that really does mean he is quiet and keeps to himself. For a good while, none of the ghosts even knew he had a partner. He didn’t tell them when the two of you got serious, he didn’t tell them when he thought about proposing or that he spent every night picturing his life with you. And that it always made him work harder just to get back to you. 

(Except for Ajax. He knew of someone like you being in Keegan’s life but he wasn’t told who you were or any other specifics. They were on a mission, just the two of them, and Keegan had brought it up briefly in a particularly harrowing situation. It was never brought up again but Ajax could tell whoever this person was, they meant a lot to Keegan). 

His team only found out on a late night of chatter after a mission. A beer or two passed around. Each sharing stories of their home life: what it used to be, what they’d wish for in the future. Then it got to Keegan and he told them about you because they asked. (Little smartass. “You never asked” is a common phrase in his vernacular).

He’ll tell them how you met, where you lived and how you’ll see each other occasionally but mostly write. If you’re in the military, he’ll tell them where you're stationed. Elias would offer to get you over here and Keegan would refuse, wanting you nowhere near no man’s land. Everyone understood. (If you’re a ghost however, the secret wouldn’t have lasted this long). 

Everyone was already stunned, like jaw to the floor shocked. But then he revealed that he was thinking about proposing and the silence was so loud. For half a second, not a single person in the room had an intelligible thought, everyone needing a moment to digest everything. But the congratulations and cheers were inevitable. 

He’ll never admit it aloud, but the approval from his team was incredibly validating. He would be stoked to have you meet them and even keep them around to meet his family if you two decided to start one. 

The ghosts asked him if he had a big plan to ‘pop the question’ and he just… shrugged. His fingers fiddling with each other. He explained that you two didn’t need those kinds of things to know you loved each other, that he’d prefer to just keep it intimate and whoever needs to know will find out eventually. This is for him and you and nobody else. 

Elias gave him time off to visit you. He tried to protest, he already had time off planned in a couple months but Elias wasn’t taking no for an answer. Spouting a bout of wisdom like he usually did:

“Starting a family was the best decision I ever made. Life will flash by and before you know it, it’s too late. You deserve that kind of love, son” 

So Keegan took the time with no further complaint and sent you a letter, letting you know he’ll be by to visit for a couple days. 

The night he got home, the two of you ended up dancing to Chet Baker. A pure sense of serenity washing over the room. The song playing sung of marriage and he pulled his head back to watch you. A pleased smile grew on his face.

“Would it be so bad?” He felt brash for the first time. He worried this would feel too blunt but after weeks and weeks of thinking about it, the idea was crawling out of his mouth on its own volition.

“What?” you turned to look at him, the two of you barely moving by now.

“Marriage… with me?” 

You stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. You managed to pull together a loving smile while your eyes held the same shock throughout.

“I think it would be wonderful.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. The genuinity in your voice only making his heart beat faster. 

A beat passed as you led a soft sway. He didn’t start moving his feet again, his mind so caught up in your words that he just let you pull him side to side happily. 

“So will you?” 

“Yeah. I think I will, kid.” Using the nickname he used to call you made him let out an involuntary, hearty chuckle. A smile of pure bliss breaking out on his face as he started to realise just how utterly whipped he was for you. 

[its-cosmerely-an-obsesh-wound]

Happy Shakadolin Day!

Below is a snippet from my explicit Shakadolin fic, Another Way To Help. I would say what I included below is rated mature because it's mostly feel-good—but merciless—puns (those are the only type of puns I know) with a little making out towards the end but we fade to black before it gets too heated.

Adolin lifted the hair at the base of Kaladin’s neck and winced. “Sorry.”

“What?” Kaladin asked.

“I may have left a few marks.” Curious, Kaladin crossed the room to his mirror and washbasin, Adolin trailing behind him with the brush.

A few was an understatement. As Kaladin looked at his neck in the mirror, it looked like someone had incessantly bludgeoned his neck with the butt of a spear for a good hour or so. He smiled. They didn’t hurt and, frankly, it was nice to have been marked by pleasure instead of pain or suffering for once. He was surprised that the stormlight that he had used, since healing his backside, hadn’t healed the marks, but perhaps it hadn’t been enough. Although no amount of stormlight ever seemed to heal his brands. Were these like the brands? If so, he might have to borrow a cravat from Adolin. The princeling would probably love that. He nearly groaned at the thought then drew in some stormlight with the intention of healing the bruises. They faded and Kaladin felt an odd sense of loss at their disappearance.

“No harm done, princeling. And no need to pay me for services rendered.”

“What?”

“Marks.” Kaladin said, gesturing at the bowl of spheres on the table.

“Storms, man. That is bad.”

“Good one, Kal!” Shallan called around a mouthful of fruit from the table.

Adolin rolled his eyes.

“The two of you are going to be insufferable with the wordplay, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Would it cause you too much suffering to know that, if you left me a few marks for last night, it would make me feel like a whore able person?” Shallan spit out her juice laughing and Kaladin grinned at her.

“Storms, Shallan, what have you done to the bridgeboy? You’ve corrupted him.”

“Me? I did nothing. He’s naturally this clever.” She said eyeing Kaladin fondly, as she fished around the bowl of spheres and grabbed a diamond chip. She walked over to them and Kaladin immediately knew where this was going. She placed the money on Adolin’s shoulder.

“You’ve got a real chip on your shoulder about all this, Adolin Kholin.” Shallan said collapsing into a fit of giggles and Kaladin chuckled more at her joy and Adolin’s expression than the pun itself.

Adolin growled. Rolling his eyes. “You. Two. Are. Insufferable.”

“Really? You look you could stand to suffer more…I thought that joke was a real gem.”

“Yes. Very lighthearted, I’d say.”

“Har har.”

“Okay, no more cheap jokes. We promise!” Shallan beamed. Adolin gave her a flat stare and Kaladin laughed.

“Shallan,” Kaladin said smiling and covering his mouth in a stage whisper, “I don’t think Adolin is having pun anymore.”

“I am not.”

“Halving pun? That’s the problem! He needs the whole pun.”

“Storms.” Adolin shook his head.

“Sorry, Adolin. We’ll stop.” Kaladin relented, then gestured at Adolin’s bandaged hand. “I’d hate to add insult to injury.”

“That was a low blow, Kal.” Shallan said grinning.

“I have something low you can blow.” Adolin ventured.  

“I think I’d rather beat around the bush…” Shallan reached for the waistband of her husband’s trousers, palming him through the fabric and giving him a quick kiss.

“You both talk too much.” Adolin said pulling Shallan into a more passionate embrace. Shallan melted into him. Frankly, Kaladin felt that they both talked too much but saying as much would risk of proving Adolin’s point at present. As the kiss continued though, Kaladin started to feel awkward again and backed away from them slowly.

“I’ll just…see myself out.” He mumbled, gesturing at the door with his thumb, but Adolin seized his wrist.

“Oh no you don’t.” Adolin pulled Kaladin in too, pressing his hips into Kaladin and holding him fast about the waist. “You like puns, bridgeboy? Well, I have a bone to pick with you.” Kaladin groaned.

“And I have something I need to get off my chest.” Shallan announced, gesturing to the buttons on her top. “A little help, bridgeboy?”

“Enough tongue in cheek and more tongue in my cheek.” Adolin admonished, pulling Shallan back in for another kiss as Kaladin dutifully started undoing Shallan’s buttons.

He smiled fondly at them, he hadn’t thought anyone or anything could help him a couple days ago but he had been wrong. They were helping by just being here. Not that he was complaining about what they were currently doing or, rather, undoing. Shallan had her hands on his belt and Adolin’s deft fingers were working their way down his shirt buttons. Perhaps his trepidation about being more than friends with both of them had been unfounded. Shallan moved to kiss up into him from the front and Adolin kissed down his neck, embracing him from behind, likely leaving new bruises in his wake, but Kaladin could handle a few more marks. The fight wasn’t out of him yet and, although he did feel pleasantly overwhelmed at present, he definitely was not frozen like before, as their heat surrounded him. Kaladin’s last coherent thought as they were disrobing him was to idly wonder if a person could be fucked to death because, in his estimation, if one could, there were much worse ways to go than in the arms of friends he loved and who loved him.

If you want celebrate this lovely occasion with more Shakadolin fanfic reading, both of my current WIPs are Shakadolin (because brainrot) but I won't lie this time and say I'm shamelessly promoting them because guilt and shame are are my constant companions in life. Guiltily and shamefully, here are my other Shakadolin WIPs:

Kharbranth University (rated: mature; might be triggering for some so please mind the tags)

A Promise Full Filled (rated: explicit; again please mind the tags)

[deedi-hh]

Y'all I'm scared

I'm not an adult, I am a minor. I can't vote, and my word practically means nothing. Please, if you're a young adult, don't vote for Trump. For starters, Trump will strip people of their careers, leaving many, many people without jobs, or he would change people's jobs to a 'better job' in his eyes (at least that's what i got from the article). Secondly, he's going to make the people that investigate the president work *for him*, and that federal employees have to pass a new civil service test he made (prove their loyalty? I dont know, i didnt see the test). He's going to make a travel ban on Muslim-majority countries to "keep out the terrorists", which not only is racism but if someone has family members in one of those countries, and those family members want to move to them, that'd be *impossible*. He's practically going to brain-wash immigrants to be all-good Americans, to not hate him, to basically call him the best. He's going to end birthright citizenship, so people born of illegal immigrants can not get a citizenship from federal agencies. He's going to end transgender rights, so no more surgeries, transferal hormones or hormone blockers. He's going to make project 2025 continue in it's tracks if he wins, and if that happens, civil servants will be sacked, giving Trump even more power, dismantling the Department of Education. I'm genuinely on the verge of tears right now. I wont lie to you, I'm really young. And that dismantling of the DE means that Trump is going to change the curriculum however he likes, which in turn means kids won't learn about important stuff, they're going to have to pay for their food, (which a lot of families, like mine, can't really afford). He's going to make abortion illegal in every state, and the women/people with female anatomy that have been S/A'd or R-worded won't be able to get rid of the outcome of that traumatizing, terrible situation. It's not good too, since nearly 70 PERCENT of those cases are against CHILDREN 17 AND UNDER. A CHILD BEING FORCED TO GIVE BIRTH COULD KILL THE CHILD. It's so horrible, it's vile. I am sure a whole group of you is nonplussed, and I am too, but I can tell that voting for trump obviously isn't going to end well. He's going to send MILITARY workers out on *PEACEFUL* Protests, which weren't endangering anybody. He said he LIKED WATERBOARDING (I'm assuming he's going to do that to secret agents, stuff like that) and thought that it *wasnt tough enough*, so he likes torture. He's going to make birth control so hard to get a hold of, which sometimes is used to help women with terrible periods that leave them bedridden, and he's wanting to end Planned Parenthood, which speaks for itself, since its not good at all.

That's not even all of it. (Read: https://apnews.com/article/trump-policies-agenda-election-2024-second-term-d656d8f08629a8da14a65c4075545e0f) Please, if this man wins he's going to make America terrible. A living hell for all of us, and he needs to lose. I'm scared; I can't do anything, basically, but I can say this. Don't vote for him, I beg you. He's not going to make America great, he's going to make it a borderline dictatorship. If you think these aren't enough reasons, that's because I didn't cover them all. You can watch videos on youtube, tiktok, anywhere, I think, and there are going to be so many reasons. From an American to another (if you are one or just live in the country), do not vote for trump. I live in a red state, and I am ashamed. I hope some of you will vote for the right person, AKA anybody but Trump.

[storkmuffin]

*crashes through your ceiling* I have another question. Ok I forget which of your previous writings made me thinkg of this, probably something about Seongwha's potential queerness. Ok so part of male idol fanservice is being touchy feely with fellow group members, maybe presenting yourself as more approachable, creating a gay little fantasy scene with your buddies, etc etc. It makes me wonder if, in a way, idols are less restricted by the confines of traditional masculinity? Because there's sort of this layer of plausible deniability, so you can always say "well I'm just acting this way for my job", but at the same time you DO get to act in a way that might be frowned upon in regular society. Then again I'm wondering about it mainly because over here arts like dance, fashion, musicals, have a reputation of attracting All The Queers and of being "more free", so that's the context I'm speaking from. What do you think?

*comes running out of the kitchen with coffee and cake bc OMG here you are!!*

OK so this is another amazing question that I've been thinking about since you asked it absolutely ages ago.

Yes, absolutely. I think this is exactly right. I bet that there are a lot of queer and otherwise non conforming people who are in the performing arts in Korea for the exact reasons you outline. There are many many many more movies about queer Korean people than actually are visible in day to day Korean society, for this same reason, I think. There are many musicals about gayness or have gay characters and themes that get imported, translated and performed in Seoul, when again, I've never met nor heard of an out Korean person in my normie middle class life. It makes sense that queer Koreans would be attracted to the arts if for no other reason than the fact that their existence is not silenced.

In some ways, human cultures are really the same, I think. The lives of performing arts people being free, outside of rigid social norms, and that in a way they are supposed to be freer, wilder, more experimental than 'normies' with their boring stiff respectability, and that's what the normies pay them money for - this seems universal. The normie middle classes still do this the world over, I think. They- well I'm part of them, so, we - are turned on by the wildness and freedom, but don't want things to get too wild, too out of control or too disruptive, so we also have a slight disdain for those that pursue certain of the performing arts. It may be cool but it's not stable, it's not respectable etc.

Queerness when it pertains to individual Koreans is still kind of unspeakable, is what I've learned from my deep dive into Kpop. Even feminist scholars who discourse about "gender queering" will not discuss actual Korean humans being actually queer.

And actually I just looked it up - I did legal research in service of my kpop fandom blogging! - and found that in 2007 there was a ruling that said that repeatedly saying someone was gay, in writing, on the internet, when it isn't true, is defamation under Korean law. The logic of the ruling seems very circular to me, but it goes like this: Homosexuality in and of itself, and the homosexual person, in and of themselves, are value neutral. Being homosexual is not dishonorable in and of itself. But because in Korean society (in 2007) outing yourself can lead to an excessive and invasive amount of scrutiny, and because in the case of this particular precedent apparently the evidence showed that the posting was done with the intention of harming the person repeatedly named as gay, the defendant was guilty of defamation. The defendant had to pay a fine (around $2,000) and appealed, but lost the appeal too. I am now wondering how the plaintiff proved they were straight, or if they even had to?

Well in any case, this explains A WHOLE LOT actually. The chilling effect of this ruling goes a long way to explain the very strange silence and avoidance of speculation as to whether Korean queerness influences, or shapes, or maybe even just invents, Kpop aesthetics and appeal.

And it allows for entertainers to play Are they or aren't they? under the cover of the fact that unless their personal relationship is outed, or they are accused of a sexual crime, nobody in S. Korea can write the kind of tabloid articles that used to be written about closeted stars or stars speculated to be gay in the Western press.

This sort of ruling may protect the individual person from outright homophobic personal attacks, but it also just erases the possibility of open discussion about gayness in the culture at large, doesn't it?

[hiscrookedsaint]

𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

#: 𝐈𝐕

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Kaz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: With the stakes getting higher, the crew must choose their next moves carefully. Knowing the dangers that lie ahead, Y/N must channel in herself to prove her worth and help the crew survive the dark path ahead.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3188

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Blood, gore, mentions of injury & mentions of death.

𝐀/𝐍: Thank you for taking the time to read this fic I've been working hard on! :)

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

~Y/N~

In the carriage, it felt cramped and uncomfortable. On one side: across from me, Jesper and Arken were sitting. On the other: my side, I was in the middle, with Inej to my left and Kaz on my right.

After hours of silence, most of the time I had zoned out and let my thoughts spin imaginations in my head. Kaz speaks up. "I didn't hire you simply to get us across the Fold. You're with us because you smuggle Grisha out of the Little Palace, and that's the location of our target."

Inej adds, "Sun Summoner." "Alleged." I try to look out the window beyond the small curtain, trying to piece together more lost pieces of my past.

What happened in my early teen years? The First Army or the Second Army's doing may have caused this. It's hard to tell.

"They wouldn't keep a fraud in the most secure location in all of Ravka." I look over at Inej and then back at Arken.

"You said you have a contact who can get us inside. A Heartrender."

He nods, and Kaz voices his concern. "How do I know we can trust her?" "Nina grew up there." says Arken. "Most Grisha grew up in the Little Palace. Very few would betray their general, and fewer still would help foreigners kidnap their most prized possession."

Arken continues. "Nina's a radical. Thinks Grisha should get to choose if they serve the Crown. She despises involuntary service more than she does Fjerdans."

"Sounds about right. With my encounter of Grisha they seem eager like hungry wolves to recruit whoever they need. Even if it's for the crown's cause." I add. A few moments later, we arrive at the Inn. We all get out as Kaz pays for their services.

Kaz leads the rest of us inside, and Jesper asks the Innkeeper, "Nina Zenik's room?" He stops counting the cash in his hand and points upstairs. "Down the hall, to your left, and it is the last room at the end."

I nod, and the innkeeper gives me a dirty look. I glare at him back. I trail behind Jesper as we go up the stairs and into her room. It is opened, and only her suitcase of belongings is left on her bed.

Arken paces around the room and says, "She knew to expect us." "She isn't late. She's gone." I look up at Kaz and try to see where he's coming from.

"Yes, but her things are all." Arken flips the suitcase and spots a small pin. "What is it?" Jesper asks. Arken says, "Drüskelle. They are ruthless Grisha hunters." "Explains the Fjerdan krydda the innkeeper was counting when we arrived. It's likely he ratted her out."

I go over to the bed and look at the pin. I am not familiar with Drüskelle, but from the stories I've heard is that someone like me could be their country's greatest weapon. Arken adds, "She's probably captive on a ship to Fjerda by now."

After Inej inspects the window, she tells Kaz. "They had a clear line of attack." "Take a look. Make sure there aren't any more surprises." Inej disappears in a heartbeat, and I look over at Kaz. "Well, that's that. We've lost our way into the Little Palace."

I am not fond of Arken so far. My senses are telling me that there is something else with him. Something that may lead to our downfall. His attitude is terrible right now. We all exit with Kaz out of the building, and on cue, Inej drops down after her findings. "All clear." she says.

"This seems like a reasonable juncture to abandon this whole Sun Summoner plan." "Abandon?" Kaz asks. "We're in this now. And I know what a million kruge means to me. What does it mean to you?"

"Freedom," says Inej.

"Fun. Like, at least a few months."

"Retirement."

Everyone looked at me like I needed to know what that amount of kruge meant. But the truth is that I don't know what I'll do with it. "Go back to my roots, where I grew up." Kaz continues,"Right, so we press on. You get us across the Fold and I'll figure out the rest on the other side."

"Fine." Arken says. He sets down his suitcase, pulls out a notepad, and uses a writing utensil to create a list. Arken continues, "To cross, I'll need 20 pounds of alabaster coal. A peck of Majdaloun jurda. Uh, not the kind from Kerch. It's too weak. And, uh... a goat."

Jesper makes a face in shock, and I slightly smirk. "Now, we meet in the dead of night. There's a wreckage of a skiff northeast, on the edge of town. So, who gets what?"

"Inej, jurda. Y/N and I will get the goat. And Jesper..." Kaz grabs the list from Arken's hand and walks up to Jesper. "Just the coal, no detours."

We all go our separate ways, and I follow Kaz. "So, where do I stand in your grand plan?" I ponder.

My question definitely surprised him. "Well, considering your work so far, I have been impressed. Threatening one of Pekka's pawns was a bold move. Even for someone who hasn't introduced themselves to the Dime Lions." I smile slightly and keep walking down the market.

"Why is Pekka so important? Did he do something to you?" Kaz stops walking, and I widen my eyes back at him. He gives me a death glare, and I fluster. I say, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that was a sensitive subject." I walk back to Kaz and stand in front of him.

While looking at him, I examine more of his facial features. Something about Kaz draws me in; it feels like he has a wall built around him. My eyes glow, and my concentration gets distracted by a goat bleating beside me. Yup

I get scared and turn around instantly. A merchant with a herd of goats interrupts our moment, and Kaz looks at all the goats. "We'll take that one." He points his cane at a white goat with a grey face and a stripe on his nose.

Kaz hands the merchant some kruge; then the merchant hands the goat over to Kaz. He takes the goat, and we walk off from the chaos of the market at this time of day.

"Why did you choose Ketterdam out of all the places to live.

I look up at Kaz and let my mind ponder his question. Why did I? "I really... don't remember." "Keramzin was the orphanage you were at, right?" I nod my head and feel embarrassed for something I can't remember.

"How did you—?" I shake off the feeling of him knowing my secrets and sigh. "That's the only thing I remember. Keramzin and figuring out my abilities when I was young. How I ended up in Ketterdam was a decision that was meant to happen, but I have no memory of."

Kaz leads through the crowd. I believe General Zlatan is giving a speech in the background. From the sounds of it, he wants to cause chaos and havoc, not the good kind. We get to the end of the sidewalk and see him continue with his speech.

"It is time to accept that we need to break away from the old country. Now is the time to form our own country, to keep what we make and what we earn, instead of sending it to the East. For the true Ravka!"

As Kaz and I go through the crowd, we notice something different after General Zlatan leaves the stage.

Arken is meeting with him, and he shakes his hand. Kaz's expression doesn't change, and he takes a mental note before turning around and walking in the other direction.

I follow, trying to take in the information I figured out, and Kaz interrupts my thoughts, "Don't tell the others about Arken. I have a plan with him."

I nod, and we see Inej reading names on the wall. I guess the wall is for everyone lost in the Fold over the years. "He's adorable." Inej says. "Don't get attached. I didn't think I'd have to specify no detours to you."

"Even if just a few minutes could end a lifetime of questions?"

Kaz says, "Your parents are Suli. They don't cross the Fold. They go around." I turn my attention towards Inej and the wall behind Inej.

"I know. I just thought... that if I saw their names on there, I could let the idea of them go. This thing? This was all that I had when I was sold to the Menagerie. And if it was worth anything, Heleen would have taken it. But this is just a simple token of faith that my mother stitched. Kaz, this is all that I have left of them. Unless—"

"—Hope is dangerous." says Kaz. I turn toward the two and see him gaze in my direction. "It clouds your judgment. Pray, scream, do whatever you have to do to push this out of your mind and move on. We all have debts to pay."

He walks off, and Inej and I follow. She asks me, "Do you have debts to pay?" I feel my eyes glow, and my breathing harshly stops. "I-I don't have any. I don't have anything or anyone to feel sorrow about." Inej grabs my hand and looks at me.

"With your mind, you can change anything around you." "I do?" Inej nods and pulls out one of her knives. "Once I see you changing the world, Sankta Y/N will be waiting."

As night approaches, we meet Arken to be led into the cold, eerie night. "We're almost there." Arken reassures us. I had been close to Kaz during the walk most of the time, but the complete darkness wasn't my best friend. Kaz had glanced at me a few times to reassure I wasn't lost or falling behind.

But truth be told I was doing the same thing when I looked at Kaz. I was looking for that reassurance.

"Where the hell is Jesper?" Kaz asks. "Just a little further." We're met with a sign, and Inej says, "Landmines." I widen my eyes and cross my arms to keep my warmth. The goat bleats and the three of us stop. "We'll wait." Kaz says.

"Follow the path that you carve."

Arken says, "That sign, that was my idea to keep people away. Can't be too careful. We're fine. Come." Inej marches forward, and I look at the Fold. It's causing fear and anxiety. I feel my eyes glow and illuminate the darkness around me.

Emotions alter my eye glow and with me seeing the Fold for the first time, especially this close, it all hit me at once like a rock being thrown at my head. "Y/N." I look over at Kaz, and he follows Inej into the field. I take a deep breath and follow.

We get to the edge of the tracks, Inej comments. "It's one thing hearing about it, but this is—" "—Nothing compared to what lies within." Arken hands the torch to Inej and brings out the transport.

"There. So, goat, jurda, thank you..." Arken counts everything but the one thing. "Now we're just waiting on... " he says. Gunshots are heard from the distance, hearing Jesper. "Wait for me!"

I widen my eyes and hear the crowd chasing after him. "They can't see the train." Arken panics and tries to hide it. "Jesper, get here now!" "Leave the lantern!"

"Landmines!" he yells. Arken ushers us inside the train, and I look around at the closed and confined space. Of course it had to be a small space, the mechanics most likely take up most of the mass of this train.

"Oh, wait for me! Don't you go without me! Wait!" Jesper runs in at the right time, and Inej closes the door. "Please tell me you have 20 pounds of alabaster coal." Arken asks. "Slight snag in the plan. Turns out that the kid who was helping me buy the coal didn't exactly know how to, uh, buy coal."

Jesper gets flustered and tries to attempt a comeback at his oblivious lie. "I lost a little bit of the money. I lost all of the money. Uh, but, I managed to steal 20 pounds of alabaster coal." he says.

"No, no, no, no, there's 16 pounds." "Sixteen pounds of alabaster coal." Jesper corrects. Kaz asks, "Can we do it on 16?"

"Never been done before."

The crowd from earlier starts shooting at the train, and Arken panics more. He pulls out seats and starts assigning us spots. First, he puts Jesper in a seat. "Sit here. Never shift your weight."

He then looks at Kaz and I standing next to each other. "You two sit here." He pushes me down, and Kaz takes off his overcoat and pays attention to Arken. Inej finds her own spot, not getting a word from Arken. I comment, "I thought you don't like close encounters."

"Now is not the best time." Inej sees Arken roll up his sleeve; marks edged into his skin. "You've crossed that many times?" she asks. "It's a numbers game. Cross this often and you get nightmares."

I hear an explosion and turn my head towards the sound. "Landmines?" I ponder. Kaz asks, "I thought you said they weren't real."

"I said nothing of the sort. I just said I put up the sign myself." Kaz finds his seat next to me, and the train departs. I feel my heartbeat intensely, out of my chest, and my eyes glowing like lightning in the Fold.

A few minutes into the ride, we hear metal cling. "What was that?" Arken replies, "I've erected a system of timers along the line. Bits of metal hung on poles to keep me apprised of the pace we keep."

"How did you know where the put the poles?" Kaz asks. "Physics and engineering account for... most of my success." "And the rest?" asks Inej. He continues. "What we might call divine intervention. What others might call luck. And after all, the Fold is thick with volcra, and tracks are not complete. Coal, please."

My eyes glow immensely, and I ask, "Wait. The tracks weren't complete?" I feel my hands clutch up in my fists and try to give Kaz his personal space. Two small indigo auras are around my hands.

"I said they aren't complete. But no moving." Kaz looks in my direction and down at my hands and the recent stress that arose from me. "We're a tad late. More coal." "Back to the real issue. We're on tracks that don't connect to other tracks?" Jesper asks.

"Yes, there's a gap but-" "-You said you could get us through." says Kaz, and Jesper asks, "How much of a gap!?"

"I built slats on the car. They roll into place under the wheels. The turbine generates enough wind to push us all the way to the eastern track. As long as we don't shift our weight."

Some time passes with all of us on the train. None of us said anything because who knew what would have happened. Another metal chime is heard, and Arken prepares for the next step.

He says, "Now, the noise may attract volcra, but it's the only way across." I feel the train get off its track and close my eyes in fear.

"Now, there's a nest nearby. But we'll be fine. If they haven't attacked us in-" Arken is cut off by a volcra growling in the distance. Clearly the nest was active today, and most likely only today.

"Well, now we've got a problem."

Arken starts messing with things on the train and I finally open my eyes. "How do you fight them off?" Kaz asks. "I outrun them. Open the throttle and toss in all the coal, which works when there's 20 pounds of it."

We all hear something get stuck on top of the train and then notice blood pooling from the top. "Damn it! The stupid thing impaled itself on a spike." Arken looks at the damage, and I close my eyes and concentrate on where it is.

"Well we need to get it off. The others are going to stand on it." Kaz says. "More coal!" Arken yells. "We're down to fumes! We'll never make it with this extra weight."

Arken says, "Give me a second." Jesper says, "This is how we die?" "Jesper, grab the goat."

"I'm not throwing out the out!" I can admit it: the goat is cute. "Grab the damn goat! It's not bait. It's for you! I need you to calm down. Hug the goat. Shut the hell up."

We all hear another metal chime, and Arken says, "We should have hit that 20 seconds ago."

I close my eyes and concentrate on my powers. I only hear muffled voices when I try to think of the best way to survive. For all of us to survive. I must kill all the volcra and move the train closer to the tracks.

I feel the environment around me, the amount of volcra there are, and see what I must do. 5-6 volcra versus myself.

Standing up, I feel my powers flow through my body and walk towards the train's center. "Y/N, what are you doing?" I hear Kaz's concern and open my eyes.

I raise my hands to channel my powers, and I snap the first one in half, and I motion my body to my right to snap their neck to kill them. The third was the one stuck on the train. Using my fingers and hands, I sense where it is and throw it off the train.

The last two thud on the train, and I close my eyes one last time to sense where they are. I clutch my hands, smash their heads in, and motion my arms one last time to finish the blow.

Opening my eyes, I am met with a shocked Arken, prideful Inej, fearful Jesper, and a speechless Kaz. I slightly use my powers to take hold of the train and keep pushing it forward. Inej asks, "Are they all dead?"

One claws the roof open to the train and growls at us. I hold my hands at the volcra and grit my teeth to split the creature in half. I throw it off the train and slowly lower my hands. We hear another metal chime, and I raise my hands in defense.

A few moments later, we are met with the light of morning. We survived.

[tasty-littl-snack]

Hey there! First of all, love the account! I don't lurk as much in the watcher fandom (not cause I hate them, I just have another fandom I am currently highly fixated on XD)

But my God. I will not get people/audiences that does not want their creators to grow or evolve from their craft. I keep getting peeved with people of not liking their overproduced stuff and reprimanding them for like "using a lot of money and effects when we only wanted a camera and your presence"

Like I get that they love their audience and those audiences love their past work, but since when did fandoms dictate what a creator wants to make and how to make it?! Absolutely insane to me. Some of them need to move on.

Hi! Thank you for the message it's nice to see that someone enjoys what I'm posting I really appreciate it.

I agree with what you're saying honestly, and especially the comments on ghost files alone being like "this is better than ghost files you should make more of this because ghost files is overproduced that you should fire your crew and do things alone always" is like... very backhanded compliment of the people saying this.

Like yes Ryan said that he's proud of what he made and it really is a good show, but it's not because he had one single camera (even that isn't true, like the shot from the airport is him joking about "travelling light" with only 5 bags to have the entire equipment. He uses his Iphone as a static cam but that's still 2-3 cameras if not more. But of course there's shots of him having one camera on himself so there's the illusion of him just going with an iphone cam and investigating alone.

The fact that people fall for that, only shows that Ryan is very talented at making videos. I think that Ghost files alone is great but not because of the low production but because Ryan had a plan for this show and knew what he wanted to prove with it. The heart he puts in it and his geniuine curiosity about ghosts is what's good about the show. The footage is of very high quality and those cameras aren't free. So while Ghost Files Alone cosplays a lower production youtube video of "just a guy with a camera" and a bit of vlogging it made people think that it's "back to the roots of bfu" or whatever.

I am a watcher fan and discovered them with ghost files and I've been blown away by the production value. I love the things people consider "overproduced" because there's not much of that on youtube and it's unique to me. So maybe I don't have the nostalgia that comes with watching them for years like others. But even when my fave youtuber that I followed for a long time upped his production value the last thing I'd do is complain. I don't really get that argument to be honest. Like "Ohh nooo I'm gonna have to watch well produced shows on youtube for free in 4k with good color grading and great microphones" like what is your problem here?

And the fun thing about watcher is that they went to the bfu channel and made a bfu collab video in december 2024. And even then they sat in the boonker and had their set and everything. The only thing different about that is the buzzfeed editing which is pretty jarring to watch after all these years. Like there really isn't going back to the old times.

I feel like people are entitled and feel like they can tell them what to do because usually for youtubers you have that audience-creator feedback that's not very common in other mediums. So the entitlement comes from the fans because they got used to it. It also comes from the usual disrespect people have for service workers and other people that they pay money for. In this case of course the currency isn't money but their attention (or whatever data youtube gathers when you watch a video and the advertisements and whatever), so they feel like "we ""paid"" you so now you have to listen to us". And when watcher dared to ask for actual money it's like "wait no you're just entertainment in the background why would I actually pay for it". It doesn't matter that watcher puts effort in their videos and they're meant to be watched, from the perspective of average person not respecting people in the service industry it's very easy to be like "I pay you so you have to do what I want". So I think that's where that comes from.

I don't know it's very easy to say "don't like don't watch". The problem with ex-watcher/bfu stans is that they loudly need to announce "Btw I'm not watching those greedy assholes and you're a loser if you do". And when you try to point out that they are still uploading things to youtube then you're apparenly being a loser for idk, being a fan of something.

I really wish they moved on and find something better to do with their time.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Insurance

So there's an unsubstantiated but unfortunately believable thing going around that's talking about the US government "monitoring any negative commentary about health insurance CEOs". Given that they're currently trying to put threatening violence to an insurance company CEO in the "terrorism" category ... yeah, I can't prove it, but I can see it.

Now, look. I only spent four years in the US, and I was lucky enough to be healthy (and on my mother's health insurance) during that time. The other ... very large number of years of my life were spent in ... I'm sorry, civilised countries with national healthcare. Yes, the NHS has its problems, and Canadian Medicare probably did too, but at the end of the day, it's free at point of use and overall, it does its best. But I'm honestly not here to talk about the difference between national healthcare and the system in the US - we all know how bad the US system is. I am here to talk about insurance in general. Which I suppose is the underlying reason for how bad the US system is, so y'know, it is what it is.

I've never worked in health insurance, but I did work for a home and contents insurance company once. It was actually my first office job. I started with just data entry, but it wasn't long before they had me handling calls. And ... y'know Robert Parr in The Incredibles? ...Yeaaaaaah... Because it was fucking awful. People had their houses wrecked by inclement weather or had all their shit stolen by criminal shitheads, and had paid out the arse for their insurance premiums every year, and we were being ordered to use every loophole in the book to deny their claims. And I'm sitting there going, "But ... that's the service they paid us to provide..." Doesn't matter. Letting go of one red penny was an affront to management. And if by some circumstance we couldn't find a loophole and we did have to pay out, we'd be penny-pinching the whole way so that the customer got the bare minimum of coverage ... and the company kept as much of the profits as humanly possible.

The point is ... that's bad enough if it's your home contents. It's worse if it's your actual home. But worst of all is when it's lives on the line. And yet these people are treating human lives like a stolen television. And I think people just don't get how bad this is, especially with the rescinding of Biden's reduction of drugs costs. Like, I saw someone on Facebook saying, "You lefties will whine about anything! So what if insulin's expensive? Cope!" and ... it seems incredible to me, but I don't think that person knows what insulin does. Or ... you know, is. It's like they think it's a kind of antidepressant (which would be bad enough, by the way, but you know how the folks on that side of the political fence talk about how needing antidepressants and the like is 'weak').

I think I only say that because I don't want to believe that there's a human being who knows what insulin is, and how deadly the lack of it is, and how some people need store-bought through no fault of their own, and would still say that. I cannot be that depressed right now.

Health insurance CEOs are plain evil. I mean, it's a fact. They are not there to serve their clients; they are there to fleece them. It is literally in the employee handbook - every way to weasel out of having to save someone's life is codified and forced on every single one of its employees. I wonder how many of those employees have their souls die a little every day as they do this.

Thinking of that makes me think of the mess Theresa May made of the benefits system over here, when so many people were having their benefits taken away under her new system... Gods, it was awful and probably still is, with people being deemed fit for work while they were undergoing aggressive chemotherapy and worse. At the time, there was a blip on the news that the situation was so bad that the people manning the phones at the DWP (Department of Work and Pensions) were given these little pink cards to put by their phones - a script for what to do when their callers started talking about suicide. It happened that often.

I wonder if they still have those little pink cards. I would bet they do. We just don't talk about it anymore because, among other things, too many people are trying to put on their own oxygen mask first and praying they don't become disabled.

To summarise ... okay, look. The dictionary definition of terrorism is "the unlawful use of violence or intimidation, especially against civilians, in pursuit of political aims". I suppose that's fair, in its way - capitalism is a political system as well as an economic one, although I personally don't believe that money should talk as much as it does in the political sphere (which I guess makes violence and intimidation against CEOs doubly political, really). However, there's a word whose legal definition is "when a person is of sound mind and discretion and unlawfully kills another, in an act that is not self-defence". That word is "murder".

I know insurance companies. I worked in one. My mother was a broker in one for years (professional liability, in her case, for lawyers no less). I know how carefully insurance companies choose their words, and why. They want careful with words? I can give them careful with words. By the legal definition, every health insurance CEO is a murderer. And the legal definition of "self-defence" is "a defence permitting reasonable force to be used to defend one's self or another". So one could argue that this particular shooter was acting in self-defence, because someone was going to die - and statistically, several people probably already had died - by that man's actions.

That's the theory, anyway. But because money talks so loud in politics now, insurance companies are seen as vital institutions and we're just expendable. But I still think that they might want to be careful about throwing legal definitions of terrorism at people. I'm sure if we checked a few legal definitions, we could find a couple of good ones for the actions of health insurance CEOs, and "murder" is the least of them.

[twistedisciple]

“You.”

Same insouciant greeting. Same annual circumstance. One might be brought back in time to the same day from yesteryear, identical if not for the dragon’s easy approach bereft of hesitation. The vast enormity of differences that hung between then and now. Whatever adversity and pleasantry had come their way, two now stood stronger for it. A sentiment that required no foolish saying among their kind - only showing.

“It is your birthday. I come to you in that respect bearing a gift and require no gratitude.” Announcement where announcement was unneeded; said gift shamelessly and prominently extended with the heavy thump of a chest at the sage’s feet. Filled to utter limits, suggested the dangerous noise it made. Rafal closed his eyes in prelude, known already to what lay within. “Open it.”

An elaborate surface predated opening, patterned by heraldic etchings of the Gradlon evil-eye. Beneath that ornamentation sat the bedrock of true substance. Coins of silver and gold were stacked in hills upon hills, in what felt to be a thousand grains forming a veritable mountain altogether. Not one bit inaccurate to a dragon’s hoard. Now all of it deemed Griss’.

“Such is your rightful due. Though I suppose humanity is fond of a more colloquial term—your paycheck. Two years' worth and then some.“ The dividends from his professorial stipend, the meager living and excruciating 25% cutback on his usual sweets intake, the part time employ at the maid cafe, all were mere stepping stones to this moment: the important milestone which officiated lord and knight.

As lords did not demand anything less than exceptional service, knights did not give that service for free. None could be more conscious of manmade world view, perhaps, than a dragon who lived among men. The failure with something to prove. He centered his gaze upon Griss solemnly, nervous with some unintended transparency of feeling. A sincere and resolved yet. . .fluttering thing.

“As your lord, it is my duty to ensure you are properly compensated. Whether I am here for centuries, or whether I should die tomorrow, with this practice you may live comfortably.” Long did dragonkind live, yet the life of one such as Rafal was precarious. He who took from the world and guzzled its every last drop would one day give back, with interest, with all that he had. But that was neither here nor there. He roused to his full spirits, head bobbing with pride. "A generous master, am I not? There is no need to thank me, Griss! . . .or you may if that is what pleases you."

Birthday asks (Happy 29th)

Even after nearly two years on borrowed time, birthdays hadn’t become any more meaningful to Griss. He didn’t count the days, didn’t pay attention to the dates, and rarely knew what month it was except when he noticed the changing of the seasons. For all of his brazen confidence, his loud and overbearing presence, and the way he fashioned himself to turn heads (mostly for disapproving looks, but that was better than not being seen at all), he really didn’t care all that much for being celebrated. His birthday and consequently, his life, was of no real importance to anyone. Even as a Hound, he always knew there would be a day when he’d be better off as a Corrupted. Or simply dead. And it didn’t bother him one bit.

His whole life felt like he was just borrowing time. As it reached its 29th year, he’d started to wonder (only half-seriously) if this was how dragons felt about their lengthy lifespans. Thirty felt egregious for someone like him. So he thought he might ask Lord Rafal about that when he saw him, because even though he didn’t really think about what day it was or his birthday, he’d expected - for some reason he couldn’t and wouldn’t name - that he’d see the dragon at some point that day.

But by the time he did, it was a whole hot drink to the face later, and had the rare philosophical question managed to survive that excitement, it certainly couldn’t crawl out from under the mountains of gold that filled the chest Lord Rafal had deposited at his feet outside the door to his office. After Griss flung open the top, the sight of its contents stunned him to the point of speechlessness, and he dropped to his knees and plunged his fist into the middle of it just to feel the weight of each piece, to make sure it was real.

But that wasn’t really why he couldn’t find anything more to say than colorful variations of “Wow, Lord Rafal!” The gold shifted in undulating waves over his hand, dripped from his palm like water pouring back into the sea, and he sifted like he was looking for something. Words, maybe, instead of this bittersweet taste that sat at the back of his tongue.

“Heh, two years late on the pay, huh?” Griss finally said, glancing up with a smirk as he let another palmful of coin trickle back to the pile. “See, that’s where you lucked out. Knights might demand gold and material stuff like this, but not the faithful.”

Not this faithful, anyway, who lived by extremes, who’d convinced himself over the years that the only thing he deserved was licks from a whip. He watched the rest of the gold drop back into the chest piece-by-piece. He’d always taken whatever he was given, of course, and jobs were jobs.

But this wasn’t a job. Not to him. Shutting the lid, he swallowed down that bittersweetness and rose back up to his feet to look his lord in the eye. Hands coming to rest on his hips, his mouth a crooked line of a smile, there was nothing all that out of place about his look, except for the bright pink splotch across his face and down the side of his neck, and the wearied lines under his downturned eyes. With the toes of one foot, he pushed the chest across the floor until it bumped Lord Rafal’s shoes.

”Comfort's not my style anyway! So I’m giving this up as tribute since my blood’s not good enough for a fell dragon’s tastes. Besides, I don't have any plans to outlive you.” He chuckled. “If y’wanna hit me though, I won’t say no.” 

His was not a loyalty bound by contract, but a choice. Although faith had brought their paths to cross, Griss followed Lord Rafal because he wanted to. Whether dragon or worm.

[sugutoad]

matchup trade for @averagetoyakinnie !

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON MATCHUP

Significant Other

I ship you with Aegon Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen. While Aegon is someone you had asked for, Aemond was alway my runner up for you. This is probably because I think you and Aemond would balance one another out - bringing out both the best and worst parts of one another. You seem like a down-to-earth person and I believe that Aemond needs someone like that. Whereas for Aegon, I see some slight potential? While he is more bitter, you see the joy in almost everything and I think that it is a beautiful dynamic to unfold. 

Runner Ups: Daemon Targaryen and Jaecerys Tarageryen 

HEAD CANONS:

While the brother’s don’t necessarily share any feelings towards one another, they are madly in love with you. While Aegon visibly appears jealous when you spend too much time with Aemond instead of him, Aemond somehow hides his jealousy until the two of you are alone

From our previous match up, I mentioned you were from Dorne and Dorne has excellent hair. After a Targeryan married a Martell, curls were introduced to the family. But let us rewrite history! Aemond loves his hair so much and pays a lot of attention to it ( I mean, have you seen it?) When you showed him how to curl his hair, he was literally in heaven! Aegon, on the other hand, still refuses to take a shower….

A lot of the relationship, especially in the beginning, was fighting for your affection. Aemond would take you on his dragon and prove that it’s better, but Aegon would say he is faster. Aegon would buy you something you like and Aemond would buy something even better.

Once while training with Criston, you were walking with Rhaenyra and stood above where they were training (in the place where Viserys was sitting and watching the kids train in ep 6). Aegon would stop training and smile brightly at you, while Aemond takes his distraction to show off and attempt to impress by attacking Aegon. That didn’t work out in favour because you ran to comfort Aegon and had the audacity to scold Aemond (not that he minded hearing you voice at all)

While Aegon spoils you endlessly, it is Aemond who pays for small details about you. You said you like yellow? He will buy yellow flowers for you. You said you like pearls? He will personally get a custom made pearl necklace. 

SFW HEAD CANONS:

Aemond’s love language is acts of service. He wholly believes that you should do things for the people you claim to love. He is always doing small little gestures for you like opening the door for you, buying you anything you like, giving you things that remind him of you etc. 

Aegon, on the contrary, is obsessed with physical touch like you. Alicent loves her kids, but she isn’t really good at expressing, especially towards Aegon; the thief of her childhood days. Small little brushes against his hand or tight hugs are enough for one lifetime according to him. He will literally melt if you let his head lay on you lap as you run your fingers through his head and softly brush his forehead with your lips

Since we know Aemond studies a lot, he definitely tried to learn all the 6 languages that you know. This man tries so hard for you and meanwhile Aegon is just like ‘you should like me as who I am’ 

Jokes aside, if you asked Aegon for the smallest of things, he would literally do it in two seconds. If you asked him to kill one person who did something horrible to you, he would slaughter their whole House for you. 

 Mornings are blissful - a state you almost never want to get up from. You're sandwiched in between the boys who are sprawled all over the place and blanket half off, the sunlight setting a warm glow on everything and Aegon placing small kisses on your back as Aemond holds you close. 

Most people look at Aemond with pity or fear when they see him passing by because of the incident that occurred when he was 10. Well, everyone except you and Aegon. The both of you look at Aemond as if he was still perfect and as an equal (even if Aegon always calls him a twat or an idiot)

NFSW HEAD CANONS:

Not only are they so different when they are having a normal day, even sex with them is so different. It’s very rarely that you would actually have sex with both of them at the same time because both of them want you as their own and only allow themselves to be vulnerable around you,

Aemond is extremely passionate. He would whisper small compliments, his lips brushing slightly over your ear and trailing down your neck. He allows himself to be very very open and vulnerable with you, telling you almost anything on his mind. 

Similar to Daemon, he is absolutely obsessed with the idea of fucking on Vhagars back, but he doubts that she would even let him. He prefers any sort of eye contact between both of you because he wants to see how you feel and how you appear rather than simply words. 

If Aemond is soft and passionate, then Aegon is rough and quick. He, like his uncle, has been in many brothels before with all the finest whores. All he needs in 5 minutes to please you. It’s more of a fun game for him rather than truly enjoying himself. He looks forward to seeing how long it will take for you to finish and everytime he would smile and tell you that you did a good job. 

Neither brothers are really the best with aftercare… Aemond would hold you in his arms for a while in silence or lay his head on your lap, thinking about whatever he did that day. Because he is more vulnerable at the moment, he also reflects about his decisions. Aegon would offer a shoulder massage at best and usually falls asleep. According to him, if you needed soft and passionate sex, you should have gone to Aemond and not him. 

How You Met

Jaxrel held his father’s hand tightly as they entered the throne room. The 10 year old boy had begged his father to take him to King’s Landing a few days ago, but at this moment, he was regretting it. The door opened and almost all eyes were on the father and son duo. Looking up at his father, Jaxrel received an assuring nod from him and that was enough for the young boy. The room was so big! Bowing down to King Viserys, Jaxrel’s eyes wandered around the room, analysing every face there. Queen Alicent stood quietly beside the stairs, her glare almost burning at the back of Jaxrel’s head. Beside her were 3 kids - a girl his age (Heleana), a beautiful boy 3 years older than him (Aegon), a sweet boy a year or two younger than him glued to his mother’s side (Aemond) and a 5 year boy hiding behind his mother’s dress (Daeron). Heleana’s eyes were glued on the floor, muttering random things to herself. Aemond was looking straight at Jaxrel, trying to figure him out as if he was a puzzle in need of solving. Aegon looked bored and tired, his hair dishevelled and eyes half closed, only looking up once at Jaxrel (he raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes - the audacity of him!) Jaxrel and his father were warmly greeted to King’s Landing by Viserys who even gave them rooms for them to stay! While being escorted to their room outside for the hall, Jaxrel looked back to see Aegon looking at him amused again and Aemond awkwardly waving. 

Confession

Over the years, both brothers grew an odd attachment towards Jaxrel. Now at 17 names days old, Jaxrel sat between the two brothers (who were now 20 and 16 respectively) under the weirwood tree. Aegon didn’t quite need to confess because he made it so obvious that he liked Jaxrel. He would randomly kiss him or hug Jaxrel - he didn’t care if others would disapprove of that behaviour. They were all idiots anyway. Glancing to Aemond, who was strangely quiet, Jaxrel cocked his head in confusion. It looked like Aemond wanted to say something, but clearly couldn’t tell Jaxrel because of Aegon’s presence. Jaxrel quickly asked to retrieve a scroll that he ‘forgot’ in the library and Aegon absolutely couldn’t refuse his orders, even if he didn’t trust Aemond being alone with Aegon. Aemond didn’t even wait for Aegon to fully disappear before he confessed. It was short and straight to the point. It would have been meaningless to create a huge scene according to him. By the time Aegon returned, he was utterly confused and upset at the sight of Jaxrel’s arms wrapped around Aemond’s neck, kissing him deeply as if their life depended upon it. 

3 ship tropes:

Sun (Aegon) x Dawn (Jaxrel) x Moon (Aemond)

Two people (Aemond and Jaxrel) gang up to tease the third (Aegon)

‘Who are those idiots? Wait! They're my idiots’ (You) x Idiots (Aegon and Aemond) 

Theme Song:

‘Young and Beautiful’ by Lana DeRay

‘Play with Fire’ by Yacht Money

Favourite Thing About You

Aemond’s favourite thing about you is your endless talent. He never knew that anyone could be so talented in so many fields like you were. As someone who strives to be better than his older siblings by studying, he was incredibly intrigued with how many languages you knew. Aegon’s favourite thing about you is your eyes. The warm hazel that contrasts the cold purple he sees on a daily basis is enough to stop him on his track. He loves the flecks of blue and green against the hazel surface especially. 

Dates

Most dates are made up of sneaking out late at night. During the day, all three of you are busy with the Septas and personal duties, but at night time, all duties are lifted off your shoulders. Aegon knows of all the secret entrances in the palace walls and leads the way to King’s landing. The three of you avoid places that you have been to a lot and can be recognized easily. Aemond and you have hoods over your head while Aegon doesn’t. If anyone truly does catch him and tell his parents, he stopped caring what they thought of him a long time ago anyways. It usually ends off with you and Aemond dragging Aegon, who is absolutely drunk and claims he is perfectly fine, down the streets. When Alicent found out about it, she simply sighed and told Aemond and you that she expected better from the two of you. It was definitely worth it though. 

Wedding - Faith of The Seven Wedding

While it is uncommon for a man to take two wives in the Tarageryen culture, no one has ever taken two husbands. Your wedding with the boys was definitely frowned upon by some, but as long as you were with them, nothing truly mattered. People from all over Westeros came to witness the ceremony with their own eyes. Rooms were filled with gifts and the halls were filled with people and food of all kinds. Though it wasn’t a typical Valyrian wedding, it was still beautiful. The boys wore shades of green and black adorned with golden highlights while you wore a soft yellow. The wedding had many prayers and ceremonies and a male septon officiated the wedding. The wedding was held in a seven sided Sept, a religious building of the Faith. The guests are separated into two sections by the aisle. Before the wedding, there were multiple festivities and grand feasts to honour the three of you. The official wedding lasted a bit longer than an hour. After announcing your vows, the septon took a green ribbon around your hand and Aemond and Aegon’s hand to show the new tighten union between your body and soul. 

Familial and Platonic Relationships 

Rhaenyra Targaryen adores you with all her heart! When you stumbled upon her by accident as a kid, she decided to keep the sweet 10 year old child by her side at all times. She buys you all your clothes and any food you are ever craving. She is your mother figure after you began to live in King’s landing. Even after the two sides split up, she forbade anyone to harm anyone and if they do, they will die from her hands. 10/10 Relationship and probably both of your healthiest ones. 

Ser Criston Cole is assigned as your sworn protector after Aegon becomes King. He was the one who trained both you and all your children. He claims that he doesn’t care much for you, but if you got even a scratch, he would go wild. 

Alicent Hightower thinks you are an excellent choice for her sons. She often fights for your affection against Rhaenyra, but as time goes on, she gives up because she knows that Rhaenyra is like your mother. The two of you don’t really cross paths or talk much at all. 

Otto Hightower was the one who got you to meet the two boys. He knows of your high status so if he gets you with one of his grandsons, he has a higher chance of getting his bloodline on the Iron Throne. 

Viserys I Targaryen is your biggest supporter. He trusts you with almost everything because you are one of his best friend’s sons and married to not one, but both of his elder boys. You remind him a lot of younger Rhaenyra so he keeps you around ever since Rhaenyra left for Dragonstone. As you grew a bit older, he made you his cup barrier like he did with Rhaenyra. 

Helaena Targaryen is your best friend. You are literally the only person who actually understands her and your bond grew stronger after your marriage with her brothers. She taught you how to sew and often makes little things for you. In return, you always sit with her while she rambles about her bugs. 

Children

Reactions: When you announced that you were with child for the first time, everyone was so shocked. Aegon held a party in your honour because of how proud he was. Viserys and Alicent were the proudest grandparents and even Heleana was associating with the family rather than her bugs. You quickly received many gifts from all the Lords and Ladies, especially from Rhaenyra , who always had a soft spot for you. When you announced your last pregnancy, everyone was so used to it and just said ‘congratulations, I guess?’ And has the audacity to continue their day? It’s mainly because they are so used to it now. 

Visenya Targaryen is the eldest child and daughter of Aemond and Jaxrel. She absolutely did not inherit any of the typic Targaryen appearance, but rather Jaxrel’s darker traits (asides some lilac hues in her hazel eyes). Though she is identical to Jaxrel, she acts similar to Aemond instead.  She isn’t the nicest person, often bullying some people and flirting with every man she sees. Her only soft spot is for her family and her cousin/beloved, Baela Tarageryen. 

Kanon Targaryen is the second child and daughter of Aegon and Jaxrel. She is a bundle of lanky energy, almost never settling in one place. Despite being known as a laid back person, she is quick to anger and slow to forgive. But if you don’t get her angry she is a really nice person. She is not afraid to show any skin (it’s not like her parents care much for that factor) and is an amazing dancer.  I absolutely know she is married to someone from House Tyrell or Martell. 

Momoe Targaryen is the third child and daughter of Jaxrel and Aegon. She is the older twin sister of Momo. She is absolutely the cutest person to ever grace the world with the biggest lilac eyes. It baffles Aegon how he can be the father of a child so pure and innocent. She is always studying many languages and only ever talks bad about others in other languages with her twin. She hosts a bunch of tea parties and makes her own clothes and accessories. She is engaged to Jacerys Tarageryen, but only to keep peace between both sides for a time being. 

Momo Targaryen is the fourth child and daughter of Jaxrel and Aegon and she is the youngest twin of Momoe! She is quite similar to her sister in the sense that they are both sweet and silly. She is the daughter almost everyone wants - the perfect lady. She is multi-talented and knows many things: fighting multiple languages, painting, drawing etc. Unlike her elder siblings who are already married, she does not wish to get married at all. 

Alhaitham Targaryen is the eldest of the triplets and is the 5th child of Aemond, Aegon and Jaxrel. While his siblings are chaotic, he is a huge sweetheart who jokes around and is always trying to learn new things. He is always munching on snacks which usually gets a scolding from  his Grandmother.

Nemesis Targaryen is the second sibling of the triplets and is the 6th child of Aemond, Aegon and Jaxrel. He's the most energetic person in the family, even more so then his elder sister. He is always travelling to different countries and playing pranks when he is home. He has a big sweet tooth and steals his older brother’s snack all the time. He is extremely competitive and plays lots of games with his siblings. 

Gemini Targaryen is the third sibling of the triplets and is the 7th child of Aemond, Aegon and Jaxrel. He's also more energetic like his brother and is a very passionate person, adoring even the smallest things in life. He is the life of the party like Jaxrel and a skilled fighter like Aemond. He is incredibly popular because of his looks. He and his siblings are always sneaking out and they got caught by Aegon, who actually sneaked out with him. He is really tall, often banging his head by accident on door frames. 

Family Life:

Family dinners don’t happen often because everyone in the family is always busy doing their own things, but once in a while, they all just sit down together and enjoy each other's company. The triplets are almost never there and when they are, they don’t even eat because they have already stuffed themselves with snacks. 

Gemini is the tallest in the family while Momo is the shortest. They have a really silly relationship. They tease one another, but in a good way and are alway trying to help one another. I feel like they have the strongest relationships among the siblings. Kind of like Benedict and Eloise’s relationship 

Everytime one of them have a new lover, the family analyzes the fuck out of the person to such an extent that it is scary. All of them sit in front of them and ask twenty questions each. Out of the lot, Visenya is the most over protective about her siblings and who they love.

Aemond is such a girl’s dad! He always lets the girls do his hair and rides on Vhagar with them (it usually receives a scolding from Jaxrel) While the parents try to not have favourites, it’s in human nature to prefer something more. Aemond’s favourite is Momoe, Aegon’s favourite is Gemini while Jaxrel’s favourite is Visenya (mainly because she was the first one he ever had and like Cersei said ‘There is no love stronger than the one a mother has for her eldest child’ or something along those lines)

Moonboard:

[paintedscales]

FFXIV Write 2023 :: Day 1

Prompt :: Envoy Characters :: Nomin tal Kheeriin, Kan-E-Senna Word Count :: 867

FFXIV Write 2023 Master List

“I have written a letter to my counterparts in the Eorzean Alliance.” Kan-E-Senna produced an envelope from her robes before walking forward and handing it off to Nomin. Tentatively, the auri took it and gazed down at it for a long moment. Her mind was flooded with questions and overall doubt -- so much so that it was hard to pay attention to the rest of what the Elder Seedseer had to say.

This moment felt entirely so surreal.

Traveling the Steppe as merely a wanderer, to finding her way to Kugane, Nomin had really only come to Eorzea to put greater distance between herself and the Steppe for the safety of her people. To think that she had made enough waves since having been in Gridania that afforded her a private audience with the Elder Seedseer after her collapse at the ceremony was surprising to have said the very least.

“... Nor are we any closer to learning the fate of the Warriors of Light.” Hearing Kan-E-Senna mention the Warriors of Light made Nomin look up from the missive in her hands. Her thoughts had finally cleared enough to remember where she was. The Elder Seedseer herself had her full attention on Nomin. That was enough to make the auri stand a little straighter and at attention.

“Yet so long as we live, never must we give up hope. We owe this to those who laid down their lives that we might behold another dawn. In remembrance of them, a memorial service will soon be held upon the anniversary of the Battle of Carteneau. This missive bears the details of that service.”

Again, Nomin looked down at the envelope. There was this burgeoning sense of doubt and dread at the prospect of being trusted with something so…important. Especially as someone who had not even been in Eorzea all that long. Was she really the correct choice for something like this? To approach those in the Eorzean Alliance as a representative of Gridania and the Elder Seedseer herself?

“You graciously accepted the part of Emissary in the recent ceremony. Should you be so willing, I would now make you my envoy, and have you bear my message to our allies.” The Elder Seedseer’s words only made that stone of self-doubt sink deeper into the pits of Nomin’s stomach.

The people of Gridania had made it clear several times that they did not seem to appreciate Nomin’s presence. For a mercy -- a very, very miniscule mercy -- the Gridanians’ disdain seemed to extend to all outsiders, rather than just her as an au ra. Still, it stung and made Nomin reluctant for a lot. Though she pressed on, and continued doing what she could aside from participating in Timbermaster Beatin’s lessons for the Carpenters’ Guild.

“I…” Nomin started, taking a breath to both calm herself and give her a moment for her mind to formulate a coherent string of words. “Am I really the correct choice for this, Elder Seedseer? I…I just feel like maybe someone that is from Gridania or the Black Shroud as a whole may prove more…acceptable.”

Kan-E-Senna approached Nomin, a warm expression on her face.

“Your dedication to the people of Gridania rouses fond memories in me, and I would choose no other for the role,” Kan-E-Senna reassured. “In the time that you have been here, you’ve selflessly given yourself to the needs of the people, regardless of the task ahead. So please, will you do me this favor?”

“If you’re certain… Then I shall do my best not to disappoint.” Nomin gave a shallow nod at the end of her statement.

“Humbly, I thank you. As you are no doubt aware, our partners in the Eorzean Alliance lie some considerable distance away. Nor are Ul’dah and Limsa Lominsa close to one another. Yet fear not, for I have no intention of subjecting you, mine own newly anointed envoy, to a journey which would take weeks by land.”

Kan-E-Senna motioned for one of her guards to step forward. An elezen woman with tight, brown braids against her head gave a Serpent Salute before producing a pass for Nomin to take. When Nomin held it in her own hands, her mouth fell slightly agape. She could only stare at the pass in disbelief.

“I mean for you to travel by air. Receive of me this airship pass. With it, you may make use of the skyways that connect the three city-states of the Alliance.”

There had been more to Nomin’s audience with Kan-E-Senna, though she had left the Stillglade Fane still feeling that sense of doubt and uncertainty. The fact that it had been revealed that the Elder Seedseer did not make her decision alone in granting Nomin trust left the auri woman with even more questions. Who else had been keeping tabs on her? Was it Mother Miounne? Had it been someone else entirely? Maybe she would have never found out.

Nomin leaned against the airship railing, her attention on the world below as they flew past.

She took in a breath, closing her eyes as she did so.

Was it truly right of her to have accepted this task?

Nomin supposed that only time would tell.

[goldeneyedgirl]

I know you have so many projects to work on, but I was just reading that fic you posted here where alice is kind of a witch (??) and jasper kind of kills her in the end (i forgot the title I'm sorry 😭) and I was thinking about how I think that one version of alice fits so much my idea of highschooler human alice and even the way her relationship with jasper starts. And all of that just to say: how do you picture a completely average human high school version of the cullens? Honestly, even as humans, I don't think that weirdos could ever be average.

Hi Anon!

The Dark and the Unknown! I'm actively working on it as we speak (it's being very difficult).

I absolutely love coming up with ordinary versions of the Cullens so I am obsessed with this question. I think any version of the Cullen family as they are in canon is going to be Weird, but being human makes it a little less obvious.

I will say that for me, one of the defining human-Cullen interpretations has to be Midnight Run by Inthemadhouse (tragically unfinished but one of the best Jalice fics online), so that has probably coloured some of my personal headcanons.

Strap yourself in, it's going to be long.

I'm working from the idea the family are Exactly As Presented in canon: Carlisle and Esme adopted a bunch of teenagers who then promptly hooked up with each other, with Edward being the first adoption, then Emmett, then Alice, and then the acquisition of Esme's twin niece and nephew. Obviously the ages of when they were acquired by Carlisle and Esme have to be fudged a little to make this work.

family stuff.

There is 0 chance that Esme and Carlisle (who I'm estimating are in their 30s because it's highly unlikely they would be approved for that combination of kids in their early 20s) would be paying out of pocket for five Ivy League educations plus dorm and books (approx 300k per student for undergrad). Without hundreds of years to build their wealth, Carlisle and Esme Normal Wealthy, not Batman Villain Wealthy.

I think Esme and Carlisle would want to teach a good work ethic, and set the kids up for success as adults. College would be an unspoken expectation because of white privilege and their wealth, but Esme and Carlisle would also accept a post high school plan that was realistic and researched. I also think Carlisle and Esme would be big on community service and volunteering, and not letting the kids just lie around during the summer.

Esme would have a small office/studio to run her architecture/interiors business out of, and she juggles work with running the household, and tries to give the kids more responsibility now that they're getting older. Carlisle would work long hours, but emphasise the importance of family time when he's off work - one of the reasons they go camping so often.

edward.

Edward is very literary and a bit pretentious. He reads the classics and has strong opinions and thinks that a lot of trends and pop culture is beneath him. He's the one wearing sweater vests and button downs to school - with a leather satchel - and his notebooks are all moleskines.

He thinks he's very artistic and spends a lot of time writing poetry and music for the piano, and pining for someone to understand him. He is insanely self-conscious about his appearance - especially his skin - and kind of awkward around his peers. He's not nearly as religiously coded as a human, but is determined to prove to Carlisle that he was worth the hassle of the adoption.

His best subjects are English Lit, Music, and European History. His co-curricular is probably the school play, where he plays piano. He's a nightmare to drag out of bed in the morning, and he tends to be very bossy with his family because he's been with the Cullens the longest. He's closest to Alice, but I see him actually getting along with Ben, Eric, and Angela at school. I think he'd kind of want to be friends with Jacob but try to be cool about it and come off as a snob. Edward cannot stand Rose or Jasper.

Edward would have been attracted to Bella's standoffish attitude when she arrived; the long-suffering thing is something he understands (he lives with four 'siblings' and only two bathrooms). They bond over classic novels and feeling out of place with their peers and whilst they get a little dramatic, they're very happy with each other.

bella.

We know teenage Bella but if she and Edward were humans together? Oof. Bella is starry-eyed over Edward from Day One, but knows how to hide it - she realizes that would put Edward off pretty fast.

I think Jacob and Bella would be quite close from her arrival in Forks, but Bella would be kind of on the fringes of her social set for all of high school. I also like to think that Jacob has his own friends and girlfriend, and doesn't spend his high school years pining after Bella.

I cannot see Bella and Alice being close friends in an all-human universe because Alice isn't starved for friends in this world, and Bella's got less of a reason to get her on side when immortality isn't the prize. I think they get along and hang out but they just don't have enough in common. I think Bella would irritate the shit out of Rose, getting caught asking too many questions about the family around school.

Bella would absolutely get pregnant before graduation. Edward has less religious hangups plus a contemporary upbringing... yeah, Ness was an accident. But Edward would definitely want to marry Bella before they went to college - I can definitely see Edward turning down Ivy League to stay with Bella at a public university.

emmett.

Emmett is sport like Ken is beach. I feel like Emmett plays two sports every season, probably coaches a kiddie league on the weekends, has a summer boy scout troupe, and works delivering pizzas after school. He loves the outdoors, loves activity. His grades are not great, honestly, but he does his best and he passes. He's definitely the student whispering if anyone did the homework and could he just... have a quick look two minutes before class starts. Emmett's one of those people who just has a lot of friends, though he would claim his best friend is either Edward or Jasper.

He's extremely popular because he's so friendly, and he's the kind of kid that adults go "Emmett Cullen doesn't sleep til noon on a Saturday. He's already coached two first grade basketball games and washed his mom's care by 10am." (Esme would look at them, unamused, and explain that she literally keeps two water jugs in the upstairs bathroom: one to wake up Edward and one to wake up Emmett.)

Emmett is also almost always the source of alcohol at high school parties, and makes the best fake I.Ds in the county. Charlie Swan knows it's Emmett, he just has no tangible proof. Yet.

Emmett has very little trauma due to being adopted, and definitely sees being a Cullen as winning the life lottery. He's the heart and soul of the family, and tends to use that to get out of any serious trouble.

I think that Rose and Jasper probably joined the family around age 12ish, and Emmett was probably smitten with Rose from first sight, and made a bit of a fool of himself and annoyed Rose for a few weeks before he relaxed and was just himself. He was naturally accepting of her boundaries, respectful, and the appropriate amount of protective over her when needed. I actually think Rose and Emmett got together after Alice and Jasper, probably around Freshman year. I know it's common that they are the pair that have the on-again, off-again dramatics, but I don't see it - perfect match. Emmett takes jokes about him dumping Rose for a cheerleader with 0 humor and shoots down any female - or male - that tries to flirt with him.

His best subjects are Gym and Chemistry. He's really easy-going and I can see him opting for a state university close to Rose because she has such strong preferences for her education. He gets along really well with the guys on the Res, hangs out there a lot, and is definitely a big brother figure for Seth after Harry's heart attack. He'd probably want to study something like video game design on a football scholarship in college.

rose.

Rose would not be a popular cheerleader. I need that out there. She has no interest in the social aspect, no interest in the culture of cheerleading, and has tunnel vision about her college plans.

I see Rose having a very type-A high school experience - all her classes are AP or college credit, she volunteers at the hospital in the summer (pediatrics), she runs a study group for STEM subjects because Forks High won't let her start a full-on robotics club, she's a member of the cross country team, and she works after school at Esme's office until she gets a job at a garage. She is utterly humorless about her grades, and she's going to be valedictorian, get into an Ivy League (ideally MIT, but she's flexible) on at least one decent scholarship.

And she makes it all look completely effortless. Meanwhile, she's still got a lot of baggage and trauma from before she joined the Cullen family, she's got a lot of anger, and she's just determined to rise about it without really dealing with it in a healthy way; Esme and Carlisle are terrified she's going to put all this work in, only to burn out before she makes it to college.

She intimidates the shit out of her classmates, and I feel like her closest friends at school would be, like, two other intense overachieving girls. She catches Bella trying to get gossip about the family from other students, and hates her from that moment on because Rose hates feeling like she's not normal. She knows their family is weird, but she wants the world to pretend it isn't.

I think Rose would actually become good friends with Leah Clearwater when she meets them via Emmett, and that she's insanely popular over at the Res with the boys because of her interest and knowledge in cars; between Rose, Jacob, and Sam, there is no car that they cannot get running again. I also think that Rose would stay in touch with Vera throughout their lives.

Rose and Edward hate each other with the fire of a thousand suns; Edward resents that Rose isn't grateful to Esme and Carlisle for taking her in because she should be honored (projecting just a little); Rosalie thinks that Edward is spoiled and has the self-awareness of a shoe-box and resents how treasured he is by the Cullens, but family therapy was just kind of a lot of yelling, so there's a mutual Cold War in the household.

Rose is also the most competent cook out of all the kids, but resents the fuck out of everyone when she's the one that the responsibility of cooking falls to on night's when the kids are cooking. The others learned fast that they had to participate or face her wrath.

Jasper and Rose are close in the way that siblings who have gone through something terrible together are, but their trauma is so different that it's hard for them to always related to the other. Emmett is Rosalie's foundation, her tether, and the person she hears no matter what. To the outsider, she seems like an ice-cold, controlling girlfriend but even when she's researching her college options, she's taking into account Emmett's wants and needs with those decisions. Rose feels so deeply that it makes her vulnerable so she hides it.

jasper.

I feel like before Forks, Jasper would have become very acquainted with drugs to cope with his past, and Carlisle and Esme had to intervene majorly - and that might have been one of the reasons that they decided to relocate the family to Forks. So like, now weed is his one vice to stay calm and get through the day, and he's pretty transparent with Esme, Emmett, and Alice about his smoking because of his previous addiction.

Jasper would be very quiet, and kind of just loom behind Alice at all times - I think 90% of the time, he'd have earbuds in. But he'd have a nasty temper and would definitely get into more than one fight, especially if someone said anything negative about Rose or Alice. And Jasper doesn't pick fights he won't win. He's kind of seen as the problem child of the family by the local gossips, even though Charlie Swan thinks that Jasper's a hell of a lot less trouble than Emmett. Charlie is, of course, totally incorrect as Jasper is the co-conspirer behind the fake I.D.s Emmett supplies, and has supplied a few parties with weed when he's feeling generous.

He absolutely got blackout drunk at a few parties before he quit drinking. He's kind of a sad and angry drunk, so it was for the best.

Jasper pretty much attached himself to Alice from his first day in the Cullen house, and they were definitely the first two to get together - Jasper has simped for Alice since he was 12, and has no plans to stop at any point. She's his favourite person, his best friend, and he's happy when she's happy, so he'll go to Homecoming, to the Winter Ball, to Spring Fling, Prom, anything to make her smile. He'll attend the school play every night because Alice designed the costumes.

At school, Jasper is the perpetual 'so smart, knows the material, puts 0 effort in'; he loves arguing with his teachers, and can turn a class into a three ring circus with minimal effort, but likes to save that for a couple of times a semester. He's the kind of asshole who shows up to finals, gets a perfect score, but hasn't handed in a single piece of homework. He's not really big on making friends, but he kind of does peripherally through Emmett and Alice. He'd argue his best friend is Peter, and they stay in touch for life. But he and Emmett get along great and are as close as bio brothers (even if Emmett cheerfully threatened to beat the shit out of him the first time he got caught with his hand up Alice's shirt.) Jasper definitely goes surfing at La Push and considers it meditative.

He and Edward have a frustrating relationship because of how much attention Jasper's struggles got him from Carlisle and Esme; Edward was jealous of how easily Carlisle told Jasper he was proud of him, and how Jasper was standoffish to Carlisle when he'd just been given the thing Edward craves more than anything. Carlisle also has an interest in history, and he and Jasper have long discussions about that together. Jasper finds Edward immature and spoiled but tries to keep the peace for Alice's sake.

He's most interested in American History and Technology. His co-curricular would be AV Club, but he really only shows up when they're pitching in for the school play. I definitely see Esme and Carlisle insisting he gets a job during the summer, and it would be something like helping run movies in the park during the summer, or working at the Forks Historical Society on Saturdays. He has no real plans for college, but I can see Jasper being one of those assholes who just gets a full ride to a really good school for reasons that are a mystery to everyone else.

alice.

Alice would be the most noticeable weirdo; I can see Alice being an Art Kid, and joining the school play just to design and make costumes, plus she wears a lot of homemade and customized clothing to school, as well as detailed make-up. But she's definitely up for joining clubs and socialising; I can't see her being a cheerleader because of the time commitment, but maybe doing ballet or gymnastics. Maybe a language club? And a photography club?

She's one of those people that just considers everyone a friend; I wouldn't be surprised if Esme and Carlisle had meetings to be like "no, Alice isn't ADHD. She's been tested, she's just high energy." I think she gets along really well with Jessica, kind of overwhelms Angela, and has a kind of Cold War of politeness going with Lauren. She's really welcoming to Bella and enthusiastic about her and Edward, but they don't have a ton in common so it's the odd movie night/sleepover when Bella's over at the Cullens.

Alice would be the peace-keeper between Edward and Rose and Jasper because she can translate Edward's dramatics into something tolerable for the others. She and Rose aren't super close, but they get along okay, and go shopping together often. Alice and Emmett probably have the most traditionally typical brother-sister relationship.

Alice seems a lot more innocent than she is, and that's partially her lack of memories from her childhood. She's very, very protective of Jasper in a subtle way; if he's drinking or getting high, she's staying by his side stone-cold sober, and she's definitely started at least one fight when someone said something about Jasper's scars. I think she'd have a lot of guilt over not being able to help Jasper with his addictions more than she did, even though she was a kid.

She's also the financial manager of Jasper and Emmett's little I.D. enterprise, and is definitely the sneakiest in the family - I think Alice would have a klepto streak as a human, and definitely be the one that knew her way around a lock-pick.

Her best classes would be Art, Economics, and maybe Forensics? She'd have no interest in English Lit or Sciences, but she'd get okay marks across the board - she's highly motivated if Carlisle is offering to pay them for As. She'd be looking at Parsons, Pratt, or RISD for college; maybe NYU. She'd have numerous jobs because Forks doesn't really have the kind of stores she'd aspire to work in, but I figure she negotiates selling accessories online with Carlisle and Esme instead of a traditional job. She'd volunteer to work on all the elementary school, middle school, and church plays.

--

I thin that's everything? I hope that's what you were looking for anon, but I had such a good time thinking about all this!

[gracey17]

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[toxxxic-mess]

Mini-Rant

Incase it’s not obvious, or you didn’t read pinned post, I am not dominant. I hate being dominant and being asked to “control” you is not going to happen.

While I am happy to make you worse, it will be from a POV of a creepy perverted beta loser, because that’s what I am. I want to get creepier and more of a loser with you, not dominate you. Calling me Sir will outright stop conversation dead in the tracks. And that’s fine if you don’t want a loser to goon and get worse with, and want a strong dominant master to obey. We all what we want, and we can find what we’re all after on here somewhere. But don’t try and force someone to be what they’re not. Find someone who is what you’re after.

Sometimes, I’ll throw a curve ball if I’m on the fence when someone begs. Some people pass, and generally these people are fun to talk to. Some people fail, and the ones I continue to briefly talk to are as dull as I imagined they’d be. I’ve just had a follower beg with the any question line, then when they failed, complained about it. When gave them subtle humiliation they wrote a wall of abusive text because what I was giving them wasn’t what they had imagined asking me to control and humiliate them would be like in their head and calling it all bullshit. You may not like this, but I’m here to goon too, not cater to your imagination of how being a controlled slave would be. Ironically their pinned post is about how they refuse to pay for the service they want to be personally catered to 100% of their fantasy.

Anyway; because I got a wall of abuse, I thought I might explain WHY I do/ask certain things, even though explaining it makes it obvious what the answer is.

A) You message me saying “Please ask me ANYTHING”

I respond “Explain to me how the Observer Effect works in quantum physics when particles aren’t sentient so don’t know when they’re being watched.”

Obviously I don’t care about the answer. I just want to see how you respond when you’re giving me free reign but don’t like the outcome. But also, it’s a task without you you realising it’s a task. Even people who are ’just’ smart don’t understand quantum physics. Let alone average people or dumb people. So you’re going to have to look it up most likely. Then, you have two choices. You can copy and paste the first thing you find. Also known as doing the bare minimum approach. You do this, you’re boring. Go away. You can try your best to explain it. It’s still not what I’m after, but you at leat tried. Bonus points for pointing out sentience has nothing to do with it. You were set a task, and you may not have liked it but you did it anyway. Shows promise for the perverted tasks I will set. I’ll happily talk to you. Or, you can go the third option, and point out you’re way too stupid to ever know anything about that, you’re too brain dead to even spell any of it. It’s why I like to ask this to self proclaimed bimbos, like the person who got annoyed at me blowing him off for copy pasting an answer. If you’re a bimbo, prove it. Be all “OMg liek I dunno wat that even means?? That stuffs totes hard and like the only hard stuff I like is fun stuff like cock *giggle* At least that stuff sould get cute guys, that wheel chair guy is fugly!!!” Or tell me you were too busy staring at girls in class to concentrate. Bring it around to gooning. That’s the best option and I will 100% make you a worse person.

B) You message me saying “Please, I’ll do ANYTHING”

I respond “Start getting fit and working out. 20 squats, push ups and sit ups each day along with a 1K run. Daily.”

Same as when you gave me free reign to ask anything, how you respond to being told to do something you weren’t expecting shows whether you’re gonna be interesting to talk to or not. You could whine and say that’s not what you meant. If you’re going to whine being told to do something on first interaction that isn’t going to humiliate you, then what are you going to do if you do get told to do something humiliating. And if you do it, who says it won’t BECOME humiliating? Once I know you’re fit, maybe I’ll get you dressed in pink yoga pants and sports bra and get you doing Pilates with the hot girls down the gym. If if you’re a pain slut, I’ll turn your regime into torture, making you do obscene amount of exercise with no food or sleep until you’re not fit but a skinny withered runt any girl could beat up. Just because you can’t see the humiliation yet doesn’t mean it won’t come. But if you want to be controlled then question it as soon as you get an order then what’s the point? And again, there’s the third option of saying you tried but you got scared by all the alpha girls taking their insta selfies and you end up making a mess in public and go back home to jerk to how cute they were. You’re a loser act like it, not a petulant child.

C) You beg for something humiliating at least.

You’ve worn me down and I give you something simple and humiliating. Being worn down isn’t fun though so don’t expect any effort. This is your last ditch attempt. I tell you to go buy pair of panties. It’s simple. It’s cheap. And it’s humiliating. Anyone can do it. So if you don’t, or you say you’ll do it later, can you have another task, or you pretend you did it, good bye. Sorry but I have a lot of fun losers to talk to, especially when people from old blogs re-find me. I like to spend decent time gooning with each of them. If you’re gonna waste time, then I’m not getting involved.

Sorry if got bit ranty, this was supposed to be short, but having a “submissive loser” swear and act like an incel cunt because I wont vocalise his inner fantasies like he wants because he won’t pay a femdom to do that for him has irked me.

So here’s some super hot dominant ladies I hope you all enjoy