#but also I wouldn’t trade them for anything

[fandom-lover2]

So This Is Christmas

Miko brings Christmas to the base

Word Count - 2395

AN: Merry Christmas!

“Miko, what is that?”

I glanced over lazily to the Groundbridge. Bulkhead and his charge had just stepped through the swirling green marvel of science, and said Cybertronian was, for reasons I was sure we were about to discover, holding a tree.

It was comically small, held by two of his digits like a bushy toothpick. The pine, it appeared to be, still had its roots attached and was losing soil with every step the green titan took.

“A Christmas tree, duh.” Miko answered Jack, like he was an idiot.

To be fair, he often times was. But I also wouldn’t have guessed that either so.

I pulled the lolly pop from my mouth. “Why the hell did you bring it here?”

“Dudes!” Miko exclaimed, spreading her hands out and looking at us like we were the bane of her existence. “It’s Christmas! We have to get into the spirit.”

“Halloween was yesterday.” Raf answered, not looking away from the TV, he and Bumblebee deep into a new video game he got for his birthday.

“And we don’t have anything to decorate it with.” Jack added.

“It’ll be dead by Christmas.” I ended, putting the candy ball back in my mouth.

“You all suck.” Despite that, she still continued up the stairs towards us.

Bulkhead was still holding the tree, looking extremely uncomfortable as he tried to not jostle it too much.

“You can put it down Bulk.” I gestured to a spot in the corner of the base, getting comfortable in my seat again.

“What is wrong with you?” Miko started, marching over to us humans. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon. We gotta get this place ready.”

“For who, Santa?” Jack teased, and Raf snickered. I rolled my eyes at them, looking down at my book again.

“Miko, Raf is flying to Mexico for Christmas, Jack’s mom has the day off and I’m going to Texas. No one is gonna be here to celebrate with-”

I cut myself off, the realization slapping me in the face.

Miko was alone for Christmas. Yes, sure she had her host parents, but they weren’t family. I didn’t even know if they celebrated the holiday. They definitely wouldn’t let her pull a 10 foot tree from Canada and stick it in the living room.

I didn’t know what the Japanese traditions for Christmas were, but I understood the seasonal depression that came with this time of year, especially when you were away from family for it. Even in sunny Nevada, it had nothing to do with the weather bringing down people’s moods.

We were her family. And Primus help us all, we would support her.

Snapping my book shut, I stood up with an unnecessary grunt and placed my half sucked lolly pop back in it’s wrapper. “Alright Meeks, you’re right. It’s gonna be Christmas soon and this place is huge. We gotta get started somewhere.”

I wouldn’t trade anything for the memory of how her eyes lit up.

“Why are you on board?” Jack questioned, side eyeing me as if I’d grown a second head.

“Because I’m not The Grinch.” I shot back, beginning down the stairs behind Miko.

It took about an hour and back-up from Bulkhead but we finally had the tree somewhat standing off to the side of the base, its roots messily sawn off and balancing inside an old empty energon cube, desert sand keeping it lopsidedly upright.

“We’ll have to get some ornaments.” I said, taking a couple steps back to size up the challenge.

“Can I make some?” Miko pleaded.

I shrugged, “Do whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I have enough at my house to cover the whole tree.” Jack chimed in, coming to stand beside us.

“Nice of you to join us after the work is done.” I mumbled to him. “I can bring some from my place to. We don’t decorate anymore.”

“I’m sure I can find some too.” Raf spoke up, having walked with Jack.

The four of us stood, admiring our bare tree when Optimus and Ratchet walked into the main area, both deep in conversation as they read over the data pads in their servos.

“What is that?” Ratchet quired, stopping abruptly.

“Christmas tree.” Raf answered.

“Naked Christmas tree.” Jack added.

“And why is in here?” The medic asked, the disgust dripping from his tone. I could imagine the lecture incoming.

“These humans have no respect, turning this base into a junk yard with all their scrap and human nonsense!”

Had to hand it to Optimus, he did a pretty good job of handling the grumpy bot most days. But once this tree started losing pine needles everywhere, not even he would be able to get Ratchet to chill.

“We’re trying to get into the Christmas spirit.” I supplied.

“What’s Christmas?” Arcee asked, having just emerged from the tunnels as well, having been on inventory duty this morning.

“An old fat guy dressed in red breaks into your house and leaves presents or coal, depending on if you’ve been good or bad.” Jack helpfully explained.

The look of horror on each bot’s face was pure comedy and I was sad I didn’t been filming it.

“And that tree allows him to break in?” Bulkhead questioned.

“Kinda. It tells him we want him to.” Raf pushed his glasses on his nose up again.

“Why would you want him to break in?” We’d finally done it. We had Ratchet questioning our sanity for real.

“Duh! Presents!” Miko smirked at the medic, and I briefly wondered if I’d need to warn her to duck.

I glanced over to Optimus and he was visibly going through a crisis. I guess confessing that we were trying to get someone to break into his super secure base would do that to a team leader.

“We’re just kidding.” I decided to finally intercept. “It’s not real. Those are just stories based on an old legend. Really, we decorate a tree and then exchange gifts. It’s just a time to spend with family and friends, to prepare for winter and bring some joy before the hard months ahead.”

This seemed to relax the bots a bit.

Bumblebee spoke, though I did not understand him.

“Right Bee, it’s just a story. Santa won’t actually break in.” Raf answered the scout.

“Why would you have such a story then?” Ratchet snapped, moving to his work station.

“Human nonsense” was pissing him off again. He should expect this stuff from us by now. Just trying to get through Halloween last week had been a mission. You’d think for his own sanity he’d just accept humans were weird.

“Tradition. Legends. Something to keep the magic alive and keep kids full of wonder and innocence.”

To humans, those notions made sense. To him, it was just a cruel trick of sugarcoating the hard truths because the adults didn’t have the guts to tell it how it was.

“It’s a waste of time.” he grumbled, turning his focus onto his consol.

“We haven’t even begun…”

Jack’s warning had him turning back to us with a raised brow.

------

“Y/n.”

I hummed in reply to Optimus, continuing to look out his passenger side window at the desert night rolling past. Optimus was decided he’d drive me home tonight, rather than me catching a ride with one of the others like usual.

“Are you certain that this… tree will not invite anyone to attempt to enter the base?” The Autobot leader questioned, sounding unsure of himself as he asked this.

I fought the smile, turning in my seat to look at his rearview mirror, which he turned towards me as his way of ‘looking’ at me in this form.

“I promise you Optimus. The tree is just a tradition. Nothing and no one is going to be invited by a lit up tree and try to get in.”

“If you are sure.” The Prime replied.

It was silent for a few more minutes, but I could feel Optimus burning to question me on it.

“Many cultures have different origins of Christmas, how it started, what it means. For the most part nowadays it’s just a holiday where people eat good food with friends and family and exchange gifts as a form of expressing gratitude for the love and support shown during the year. The decorating is just part of the deal, getting everyone in the mood to celebrate.”

I could feel Optimus thinking over what I’d said, making it make sense in his mind as he turned what I’d said into Cybertronian terms and trying to match it to any customs he’d had on his home planet. Apparently he came up empty because he didn’t mention any.

“So, Christmas is a time of leisure?” he questioned finally, summarizing what I’d said.

“Yes. A time to relax and look back at the year passed. One final big holiday to give us a push to make it to the end of year before we begin the new one in January.”

Optimus was quiet for a while, only the steady rumble of his engine and his tires rolling across the road to let me know he was still awake.

“Can you describe more about Christmas?” he finally asked.

Still a data clerk at heart, I smiled.

I began telling Optimus all I knew, what traditions from different cultures I could remember, how my family did the holiday as opposed to other families I’d heard of. I chose to not comment when I noticed Optimus was taking the long long way to my house, wanting me to keep talking as long as possible. I would have stayed up all night talking to him if that’s what he wanted.

Finally, after he’d spent an hour aimlessly driving through town, he pulled to a stop at my house.

“And that’s Christmas.” I ended, taking a deep breath.

Optimus remained quiet for a few moments, then released a deep hum, as if I’d dropped some deep wisdom on him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry too much about it.” I leaned over and opened his door, preparing to jump down. “It’s still almost two months away.”

“Plenty of time for Miko to cause all kinds of trouble.”

My laughter echoed down the street as my feet hit the side walk. “Goodnight, Optimus.”

“Goodnight, Little One.”

------

“Merry Christmas!” the four of us cheered, all pulling at the same time.

Four snaps, and four Christmas crackers popped open. We all laughed, opening up our obnoxiously colored cardboard cylinders. We put on the tacky crowns, Raf removing his Santa hat and Miko taking off her antler headband. Jack was wearing tacky plastic glasses with little Santa hats on them. I had an elf’s hat on, and took it off in favor of the crown.

We each wore knitted Christmas sweaters, hand made as a gift from Raf’s mom for ‘his good friends’.

All around us, the base looked like Rudolph threw up. Lights, streamers, tinsel and garland. Who knew Agent Fowler was such a Christmas fanatic?

After he found out about the tree, he’d dropped off crates of supplies. It’d taken hours, and I thought at one point Ratchet might actually act on his threats of violence, but in the end the base was nicely illuminated for the holiday.

Our tree was, to my surprise, still alive and now on the catwalks, lit up and with a crudely drawn (curtesy of Miko) Starscream as the tree topper.

Four different households, plus the military contribution, made up the ornaments. It looked good, if you liked complete and utter chaos. But it had been a fun day decorating it. Optimus had even helped hang a ball or two, lifting Miko so she could place her Star(scream).

Now, the last weekend we had together before Raf and I were set to fly Tuesday, we were having a sleepover and having an early Christmas.

We each took a turn to read the bad jokes, trying not to laugh at how bad they were. Then, we moved on to the games that came with them. And then, dinner.

Mrs. Esquivel and Nurse Darby had provided most of the meal, both happy to contribute to our good time. Agent Fowler had stopped by earlier today to play Santa (yes, he wore the red suit and fake beard and everything. Bulkhead almost swung at the poor guy. Apparently, he’d been having nightmares about Santa coming into the base and leaving coal at his berthroom door) and dropped off enough desserts and treats to last us a lifetime.

The meal was accompanied by laughter, and shared stories of previous failed Christmas stories from different families. The bots stood around, some actually paying attention and asking questions, one pretending he wasn’t.

And finally, to the gift exchange. Somehow, all four of us had gotten stuff for the bots, without actually discussing whether or not we would. Most of them were impractical, and useless (why would Ratchet even want an air freshener Miko?) but they nonetheless showed appreciation, and actually seemed to really enjoy the gifts. Optimus in particular seemed pleased with the mythology and holiday traditions book I got him, questioning when we could begin reading it together.

Miko had gotten Bulk a new CD for their favorite band so they could rock out together. Jack got new, better helmet, so he and Arcee could “go faster”, like they didn’t already. Raf got Bee a poster of a video game they both played often.

The gifts us humans got for each other were stupid, nothing of value or anything we could actually use, but it was fun and they became prized possessions.

After hours of screwing around with our new gifts and playing some Christmas games, I made the popcorn while Jack got the lights and we all cuddled under the blankets, settling in for Home Alone with all the bots seated behind us and invested in the movie.

Slowly, one by one, everyone began to drift off or sneak away to their berthrooms. I could feel the pull of sleep and shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable with Jack on my left shoulder and Raf’s head in my lap.

Then, a gentle servo reached over and caressed my forehead. “Sleep, Little One.”

I looked over to my guardian, a dopey grin on my face. “Goodnight Optimus. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”  

[entropyvoid]

@labyrynth Imma more heavily push back on that pushback because while you do have a point that western and Chinese audiences in general have pretty different ideas of what’s masculine and what’s feminine, my point is that Aventurine’s design, (and much of Penacony in general) is pretty clearly heavily based on 1920’s America, and I think deliberately mixes specific aspects of both men and women’s fashion from that particular time and place, when masculine and feminine fashions were very much separate. To be more specific, his design slaps a lot of details, ornamentations and overall motifs you would have only really seen in women’s fashion on a masculine silhouette. (This still applies despite him not being from Penacony - his design is still very much meant to evoke it, he is still considered a Penacony character, and I’d argue that aside from just story reasons literally all of the playable Penacony characters being from elsewhere is meant to be reflective of how a large part of the US in that time period, especially in big cities on which Penacony was based (coughNewYorkcough) were absolutely chock-full of first and second gen immigrants because up until acts passed in 1917 and 1924 implemented literacy tests and heavily restricted immigration, all you had to really do to become a US citizen was just show up on a boat but I digress.)

Also it gives me an excuse to blab about fashion history and character design in general. A lot of the links I’ve provided go more into detail and provide visuals, I’m largely just summarizing and picking out what I think is relevant.

We’ll start with the most obviously masculine aspect of his design, which is his silhouette. He’s wearing a three-pieced suit, a long overcoat, (none of which ever really looked anything like what Aventurine’s wearing but we’ll circle back around to that,) and a fedora, all pretty normal menswear stuff in the 20’s and a good while after. Of note I’d like to point out that mens fashion (like women’s fashion, but not as dramatically) became a lot more structurally simplified in this period, with the button count on suits sometimes going way down to 1 or 2 buttons, which is pretty much what Aventurine’s got going on. [https://fashionhistory.fitnyc.edu/1920-1929/ and https://vintagedancer.com/1920s/1920s-fashion-men/]. …Tumblr wouldn’t let me link it the same way I did everything else, for some reason. Damn jank-ass webbed site.

Flapper fashion included a very large variety of outerwear, but I’d like to direct you to look at some of the fur-lined winter coats here, and then maybe take another look back at Aventurine’s coat.

Feathers were a very common adornment in women’s fashion at the time, particularly on hats and in feather boas. Peacock feathers were a popular choice. (As well as ostrich feathers, particularly for boas.)

Peacocks as a motif in general. Since Japan opened its doors to trade in 1858, a lot of new inspirations that western artists and designers took from slowly seeped in, the peacock included amongst them, wherein it very quickly became associated with beauty, exotic luxury, and vanity. [x] At the beginning of the 20th century it began to appear on accessories, [x] and starting in the 1910’s, female stars began dressing as peacocks on stage, and “the male bird became a symbol of exotic femininity and fantastical extravagance.” This was despite the long-held superstition (in western theater and in general) that peacocks were bad luck because they embodied the evil eye, [x] though the opposite holds true in Chinese culture, where they symbolize good luck, as well as beauty, dignity, and heavenliness. [x] In the context of Aventurine I find this especially interesting, because frankly, I’d argue he’s really got all of the above going on rather than one or the other.

I’d argue that just because a character is made by a Chinese game developer, that doesn’t mean that western symbolism, sensibilities, and influences don’t come into play, especially when the character is pretty explicitly based on/inspired by western culture and they know the game’s got a worldwide audience. Take Dr. Ratio as another example - he’s obviously Greek themed and his outfit evokes a toga. The swirl pattern all over it is probably a golden ratio visual pun. He’s wearing a golden laurel pin in his hair, a symbol of honor and achievement worn by artists, athletes and scholars for thousands of years, and it’s got the same number of leaves on it as he has PhDs. The little gem on his chest is tyrian purple - a color historically reserved for royalty, reflective of him having an incredibly distinguished status. He’s got an owl on his shoulder, which is a symbol of Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom. Interestingly enough, according to that thing I linked earlier that explained a bunch of the symbolism of different birds in Chinese culture, it would seem that owls are a bad omen, because of their big scary eyes and the fact that their call sounds like a word for gravedigging in certain dialects. And honestly the whole not being recognized by Nous thing could be seen as ill fortune, while overall he could easily come off as negative or gloomy, especially if you’re playing with the Chinese, Japanese, or Korean dubs, where his voice is a lot more… I guess stoic? (I love English dub Ratio but he is a lot more… emotional sounding? And perhaps that too is something that more suits broadly western sensibilities. Idk.)

Point is, though Chinese symbolism may not have been thrown out the window there, he is nonetheless clearly heavily influenced by the symbolism of the culture he’s inspired by, with both fused to make something that works for both audiences. I don’t think Aventurine is really any different. I think to ignore the feminine aspects of his design within cultural context assumes that the Chinese character designers (and the writers they work with) just didn’t do their research well enough and slapped masculine and feminine fashion together by complete and total accident, which I think does them a disservice, especially when they pack so many designs full of meticulously researched little symbolic or cultural details.

I also think that the issue of trying to get queercoding past Chinese censors seriously complicates any discussion of a given character’s masculinity/femininity or gender in general, and Hoyoverse has like, a whole history with tryna depict queer people anyway (original Bronya/Seele HI3 comic kiss, anyone? Chinese government specifically saying no femboys allowed and then explicitly naming Venti, anyone???) But like, that’s a whole nother can of worms.

I spent literal months going “man I wish they’d release a character with a flapper-inspired design for Penacony since it’s inspired by 1920’s America and whatnot” whilst maining and constantly staring at Aventurine the entire time before it clicked for me that he’s the resident flapper and his outfit is basically a 50/50 fusion of both masculine and feminine 20’s aesthetics actually and that’s like pretty cool

And then I went “but what if we dialed the flapper aesthetic up to 100” just for funsies because I wanted to see what it’d look like. So here you all go

[crosseyedheartt]

Listening to Keith’s interviews from the past five years is so funny. He did one on Apple for the tattoo you reissue a few years ago and the interviewer was trying to plug the spatial sound version of the album that was going to be on Apple and Keith was like “well I don’t really trust remasters I think you should just keep it the way it was originally intended to be.” As if he forgot he was there to promote a remastering of his album 😭😭

[saphronethaleph]

Soresu Negotiations

“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” Palpatine asked.

“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.

Anakin groaned, then sat down.

“Here we go,” he said.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”

“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.

[lilislegacy]

Okay, I’m so gonna get hate for this. And it will probably get about 4 notes. This is, by far, the most opinionated thing I have ever posted on here. If you can’t tolerate criticism towards Rick Riordan, the books, or the TV show, please keep scrolling. My goal is NOT to change your mind or start arguments.

I also want to preface this by saying that I love and respect Rick Riordan (even if I disagree with him on things and don’t like some of his choices) and fully acknowledge that he has the right to do whatever the hell he pleases with his own series. I also want to say that I love Annabeth Chase (both the book and tv show version) with my entire being and you will never find me being an Annabeth hater. She’s my girl.

We good? Okay cool. So here’s the thing: I’ve seen a lot of people on here saying things like “If you didn’t like the books, you just don’t know how to have fun,” and “The new book haters are just mad that they aren’t the target audience anymore,” and (my personal favorite) “Nothing in the books has changed, only the readers have.”

And while I see your points, and I respect you, allow me to show you something. Because of the 10 picture limit, I am only going to focus on one specific change: Annabeth’s view of Percy.

WOTTG: Annabeth is surprised to be comforted by Percy

Past Books: Percy is constantly comforting Annabeth

WOTTG: Annabeth is shocked when Percy is smart

Past Books: Annabeth often points out that Percy is intelligent

WOTTG: Annabeth thinks Percy can’t do anything on his own, and Rick communicates that Annabeth is always saving his ass

Past Books: Percy is ALWAYS watching her back, and saving her ass just as much (and Annabeth admits that)

I could put a hundred quotes in here. I could go on and on and on. But I can’t, and I won’t.

My problem with this new book is NOT that it is more goofy than serious. My problem is NOT that little things have changed. My problem is NOT that it’s just for fun. My problem is NOT that it’s much more childish. (And by the way, I’ve read PJO and HOO as an adult, so it’s not like I was a child when I read everything else and am now an adult reading the new ones.) I really did like and enjoy many parts of this book.

My problem is that the characters (especially Annabeth) have flat out changed—in bad ways—and we have no choice but to accept it as canon. My problem is that Rick, while trying to merge his books with his new TV show project, is changing the entire personalities and past behaviors/ tendencies of the characters.

I loved Chalice of the Gods. You know why? It was fun, goofy, and showed the characters that we know and love being happy and adorable. I strongly dislike Wrath of the Triple Godess because the characters—no matter how adorable and happy they might be—are no longer the ones we know and love.

My problem is that Rick Riordan fully admitted that he no longer considers the old book characters when he writes the new books. He is now purposefully incorporating his own personal mixture of the book characters and tv characters and writing those versions instead. Because of his desire to change and transform the series, I doubt he’s even read the original PJO or HOO books in years, which is why everything is so inconsistent. The old book characters—the ones who made the series what it was—are gone. And that is not my opinion. Rick fully admits that he doesn’t imagine them when he writes anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the tv show actors. I adore Walker and Leah and Aryan with my whole heart, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But the fact is: they will never be exactly like the book characters. It’s impossible for actors to become the words on a page. They’re their own unique version! And likewise, you cannot turn actors into print. It doesn’t work! And why would you try? The books versions were perfect as they were. And the disney kids need to make the characters their own. The two versions can exist side by side, equally as wonderful, and still be gloriously different. We should celebrate the uniqueness of both. But instead, Rick is attempting to merge them into one. And in my opinion, it’s just hurting them both. And I’m gonna get real brave by saying this, but do you want my honest prediction? If he keeps doing what he’s doing now, the TV show is going to get cancelled and the books are going to turn into a joke. I so, so badly hope that this doesn’t happen! I have loved Rick and PJO for many, many years. I badly want both to thrive. But what is going on right now… it is not working, no matter how much we all want it to. And speaking as someone who knows people in the TV/Film industry, I am sadly not the only one who thinks the show is gonna flop. Which is devastating, because Rick Riordan deserves a redemption on the big screen, and the incredible actors deserve to bring this series to life in a new way.

I am not trying to force my opinions onto anybody. You are welcome to disagree with me and move on. I am not saying that I’m right and you’re wrong. If you disagree, that’s okay. If you agree but you don’t have a problem with it, that’s okay. In fact if other people have literally no issues, that makes me somewhat happy. And if you loved the book, I’m honestly so stoked for you. Feel free to just keep on scrolling, my friend.

But me? I’m sad. I’m really, really freaking sad. And I’m a little angry too, even if I don’t have a right to be. I can’t help it because I’m only human. But this is how I—and a lot of other people—feel. And you know what? That’s okay too. Because the fact of the matter is:

Annabeth isn’t the same Annabeth anymore. And Percy isn’t the same Percy anymore. And it’s not because they went through trauma, or because time has passed. It’s because Rick Riordan doesn’t have any interest in writing those versions of them anymore. And I think the comparisons between the old and the new show that fact pretty clearly.

[panpteryx]

Oh yeah so they are! I was mostly thinking about exotic pet care guides, which (due to reptile YouTubers) I suspect may be the primary way people find out about snakes and other less-appreciated species. They do have a tendency to blur the lines between “common, not endangered, native to [local region]” and “uncommon, at risk from poaching, native to [far away region]”? At least, the guides I’ve seen usually only mention foods other than rodents if the snake might have difficulty recognizing frozen/thawed rodents as food.

The conflict between “reptile YouTube spreads awareness and appreciation for species people typically consider to be distasteful” and “yeah but their information is often inaccurate and the husbandry is poor 90% of the time so is the appreciation worth it”, I guess

….though now I’m wondering if my ball python would like an egg as a treat, they eat a lot of birds in the wild and I’d be surprised if they didn’t eat the eggs too. guess I’ll do some research lol, chicken eggs *are* pretty big so they might not be safe, but maybe quail…

This is a gentle reminder to those who keep poultry to PLEASE keep in mind wild snakes if you are using fake eggs in your chicken coop. Snakes are incapable of digesting the wooden/plastic/ceramic fake eggs that are commonly placed in chicken coops to train hens. Snakes (like this little ratsnake here) can and often do eat these fake eggs and suffer life-threatening obstruction as a result!

If you need to use fake eggs in your coop please strive to ensure that the enclosure is snake-proof (difficult) or superglue 3 or more eggs together so that snakes cannot consume them and become obstructed.

[markrosewater]

The Nadu Situation

This has become a big topic in the community this week, so I wanted to add my thoughts to the discussion. My focus isn’t on the banning, but on the behind-the-scenes processes that led to it. I’m Head Designer, so I want to focus on the design elements of the situation.

When we make Magic there are a few things we do to try and make it the best it can be. First, we design in what we call an iterative loop. That is, we make something, we playtest it, we get feedback, we make changes on that feedback, and begin the next iteration of the loop. We try to get as many iterative loops in as we can before the set is locked (aka “no more changes”).

No matter where we set that line, there’s a last day to make changes. Moving that line earlier doesn’t change anything other than giving us less iterative loops to improve things. Also, we make lots and lots of last minute changes. The vast majority of them make the game better. I understand there’s more focus on the times we make a mistake, but it represents a truly small percentage of the changes.

Also, whenever we design a card, we ask ourselves, who is this card for? If we’re trying to make game play the best it can be, it helps to understand who will use the card, where they will use it, and what they will do with it. Obviously, in a game as modular as Magic, the players can often zig when we expect them to zag, but in general, this process leads to the best design.

We have two play design teams, one focused on competitive play and one focused on casual play. The competitive play design teams determines which cards they think have a shot at competitive play (remember we’re making predictions as where we think the environment might go,we don’t definitively know; we need to make an environment complex enough as to entertain tens of millions of players). The casual play design team then looks as the cards that don’t play a competitive role to see what casual role they can play.

With that said, let me respond to a few popular lines this week:

“Stop designing for Commander” - The nature of competitive formats is that only so many cards can be relevant. As you start making more competitive relevant cards, they displace the weakest of the existing relevant cards. That’s how a trading card game works. That means that not every card in a set (or even just the rares and mythic rares as the commons and uncommons have a big role making the limited environment work) has a competitive role. As such, we examine how they will play in more casual settings. There’s no reason not to do that. And when you think of casual settings, you are remiss if you don’t consider Commander. It’s the 800-pound gorilla of tabletop play (aka the most played, heavily dominant format). Us considering the casual ramifications of a card that we didn’t feel was competitively viable is not what broke the card. Us missing the interaction with a component of the game we consider broken and have stopped doing (0 cost activations), but still lives on in older formats is the cause.

“Stop making late changes” - Whenever you see an airplane on the news, something bad has happened. It crashed, or caught on fire, or had an emergency landing, or a door fell off. Why do we still make planes? Because planes are pretty useful and what’s being highlighted is the worst element. That focus can lead people to false assumptions. Magic would not be better if we stopped making last changes. A lot *more* broken things would get through (things we caught and changed), and many more cards just wouldn’t be playable. Our process of fixing things up to the last minute does lots and lots of good. Maybe it doesn’t get the focus of the screw ups, but it leads to better design.

“Everything needs to get playtested” - My, and my team’s, job is to take a blank piece of paper and make something that doesn’t exist exist. That’s not an easy thing to do. I believe play design’s job is even harder. They’re trying to make a balanced environment with thousands of moving pieces a year in the future. And if we’re able to solve it on our end, that means the playerbase will crack it in minute one of playing with it. One minute, by the way, is the time it takes the Magic playerbase to play with a set as much as we can. There are tens of millions of you and a handful of us. There simply isn’t time in the day to test everything, so the play design team tests what they think has the highest chance of mattering. They take calculated gambles (based on years of experience) and test the things most likely to cause problems. Will things slip through? There’s no way they can’t. The system is too complex to not miss things.That doesn’t mean we don’t continually improve our processes to lower the chances of mistakes, but nothing we’re going to do can completely eliminate them.

Designing Magic is difficult. Next year is my thirtieth year working on the game, and I think we have the most talented team we’ve ever had. Plus, just as we iterate on the designs in a set, we iterate on design processes of making Magic. How we make Magic today is light years different, and I believe better, than how we made Magic when I started. (”If I have seen further, it’s because I stand on the shoulder of giants.”)

One final thing. I’ve always pushed for transparency in Magic design. No one on the planet has written/spoken about it more than me. I truly believe Magic is better as a game because its players have the insight to understand what we, the people making it, are doing. We do ask for one thing in exchange. Please treat the designers who take the time to share with you the behind-the-scenes workings of Magic design with kindness. We are all human beings with feelings. There’s nothing wrong with feedback, but it can be delivered with common courtesy.

[verstappen-cult]

Could you do a Lestappen one where they act as her voice after reader is advised not to speak due to a sore throat that has left her hoarse

Your phone lights up with an incoming facetime call from your mother, Charles is grabbing it before you can even reach for it.

“Charles?” Your mother’s voice cuts through the air. “Hello, darling. Where’s my daughter? What did the doctor say?”

“He advised her not to speak or it may get worse. He also prescribed her some medicine.” That’s when Max enters the living room, a glass of water and your pills on his palm. You see him waving at your mother before joining you on the couch.

“Take this, baby. It will make you feel better.” You kiss Max’s cheek before accepting the pills and water. “Good girl.” He says, making you blush. You mouth to him to stop, pouting to your phone. You’re definitely never going to be facing your mother again if she heard him. But she doesn’t say anything, so you relax.

Charles chats animatedly with your mother for a few minutes while you cuddle next to Max and look for something to watch on the TV.

“How is work going, darling?” Your mother asks. You’re going to open your mouth to answer her, but Max beats you to it.

“Everything’s good. Next week she’s going to Paris for a meeting,” Max explains, hand on your knee. “something about making some changes to one of the last projects.” He shrugs and you feel your heart hammering in your chest.

It’s unbelievable how much they care about you. Ever since you’ve been like this they have not leave your side. And it is not like they don’t do that every day but now it’s just extra special. And kinda funny because you can talk, the doctor said you can’t raise your voice and need to drink lots of water, but can communicate verbally. It’s them that won’t let you.

The call ends with your mother telling you to take care and thanking your boyfriends for being so attentive with you.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asks and, knowing they will scold you if you talk, you give him a thumbs up. Your throat doesn’t hurt that much anymore.

The bell rings and Max is up in no time, when he comes back there’s a smiling Lando by his side.

He waves at you and Charles before handing you a bag. “I got you this. They bullied me into buying it because it is my fault you can’t talk now.” Lando looks down when he meets Max intense gaze, he looks like a scolded child.

When you open the bag you find a whiteboard and a pen. It makes you laugh and decide to use it. They wait patiently as you take your time to write, making them believe you’re actually writing something important. Once you finished you turn it around to reveal a ‘you’re all idiots’.

You know you will be using the whiteboard a lot around them because it’s impossible to get them to understand that you are fine. It may be a little annoying but you wouldn’t trade them for anything.

[hvlcy0n]

SAY IT (PT. 1) . . . hayato suo x fem!reader

+ you’ve never reciprocated any of suo’s confessions of love, but a chance to eavesdrop on a conversation among you and your friends grants him all the insight he needs.

+ 4.2k words

+ NSFW (MINORS DNI) // UNEDITED // brief mentions of sex // mentions of edging at the end // brief mentions of overstimulation // mentions of past heartbreak/insecurities // established relationship // manipulation // i got all the big stuff but i’m definitely forgetting some minor stuff i’m just tired of looking at this

+ this is my first time writing suo so plEASE cut me some slack, i got tired of seeing it every time i opened google docs. i left any descriptions/names of your friends extremely vague on purpose so you can fill in whoever. the NEXT part of this will be centered around smut, but this one was more just kinda the build-up to his decision to push you out of your comfort zone.

suo has always been able to see right through you.

granted, that was his area of expertise—the ability to pierce through people’s defenses as if they were nothing more than a gossamer film and unearth whatever information he resolved to discover. he was regarded as dangerous by both allies and enemies, capable of sinking his fingertips into peoples’ psyches and peeling back the layers until their self–control began to fracture and ruby welled beneath his touch and trickled down to obscure his opponents’ vision in an all–consuming bloodlust that left them vulnerable and uncoordinated. 

he had a critical eye and a terrifying intuition; and while his friends wouldn’t trade him for the world, they were also aware of the uncharted territory of suo’s complex character—not to mention the existence of a small distance between them that had been discreetly established by suo himself. while he genuinely enjoyed the presence of his friends, he valued his privacy and space, and he often kept information about him restricted. he was more enigmatic than anything else. 

so, when suo offhandedly mentioned having a girlfriend, they were shocked. although emotionally intelligent, none of his friends pegged him as a romantic, his secrecy and manipulative tactics seemingly too insurmountable an obstacle in a relationship. generally, he was kind and respectful, but his demeanor could flip on a dime in the face of discourteous behavior. he could be mean—unfair.  it wasn’t uncommon for him to mask his slick tongue and cruelty behind refined language and his gentlemanly composure as he subjected his targets to public humiliation. sometimes, his emotions could get the better of him, and he could be frightening when they do. a gentleman? maybe. but there’s more nuance to him than that.

unbeknownst to them, suo was remarkably softer with you. warmth and genuine kindness emanated from every content smile and careful dance of his hands over your skin, calloused fingertips bearing an ardent reverence that would cause even aphrodite to flush. the sharp edge to his tongue smoothed, his teasing light-hearted and devoid of the faint, underlying drip of venom that could sometimes be heard punctuating his words if someone listened closely enough. when he observed you, his eyes glowed with innocuous curiosity and rather than distant analysis. 

the more time he spent with you, the more he could read you like an open book, deft fingertips tracing over even your most tattered, weathered pages and the most smudged ink to wholly bare the contents of your soul to him. he sought to know you in your entirety—your likes and dislikes, how you like to be touched, how you react to certain things. after all, the more he knows about you, the better he can protect you. 

the better he can love you.

love.

that’s a tricky subject for you to navigate, he’s learned.

you were never one to shy away from his affection. in fact, you clearly delighted in the attention he lavished you with. there was never a question as to whether you would hurry to lace your fingers with his if he reached out to you, if you would lean into his caresses, or if you would let him pepper kisses across your cheeks. you were so receptive to his ministrations, so much so that it was almost natural for your body to drift toward his in search of some sort of closeness. whatever he doled out, you returned, and that included the light banter and flirtatious remarks you two often exchanged. you fascinated him, kept him on his toes. 

the only area of your relationship that you fell short in was verbal confessions of love. suo knew that you were fiercely protective of your heart, already having subjected it to enough bruises and scrapes throughout your life to make you want to guard it to the best of your abilities. he was fortunate as it was that you had trusted him enough to relinquish it to him.

he knew that you were still learning to navigate the choppy waters of vulnerability—true vulnerability. it was easy enough to bask in suo’s attention and rely on his ability to comprehend the unspoken, but to say the words aloud would be to speak it into being, to charge the universe with the magnetic force that will bind your fate to his, to make it real. you never said anything that you didn’t mean, and suo understood that after all your hard work fortifying your emotions, to openly admit it would require you to let down your guard entirely and let him in.

there’s no doubt in his mind that you love him. he can feel it in the way you pour every ounce of heartfelt emotion into the kisses you press to his lips, your dedication toward memorizing and analyzing all of his microexpressions so that you can understand him on a deeper level, and the adoration that pools in your eyes like molten honey as you observe him when you think he isn’t paying attention. only a fool would mistake the depth of your feelings. 

he can read you like a book, that much is true, but it’s much more enjoyable to have it read to him line–by–line than to flip through the pages on his own. 

it’s quite endearing, actually, the way your skin would warm and your brain would stall whenever his lips would brush a saccharine “i love you” over the shell of your ear, or the way goosebumps would scatter across your skin and you would clench around him whenever he’d pair the words with a well–timed thrust inside you. he thrives off flustering you and witnessing your demeanor crumble into a delightful shyness that never fails to cause a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

even so, he sometimes finds himself yearning for that reassurance that you’re as irrevocably enamored with him as he is with you—that you crave him the way he craves you. he understands that it’s greedy of him and that he should tamp down such self–centered emotions. he knows what your feelings toward him are; it would be inconsiderate of him to pry you out of your shell until you’re ready in order to satisfy his own desires. the concept of love operates differently for different people, and he can accept that. 

it always slips his mind how swiftly things can change.

it was a complete coincidence when he’d stumbled upon you in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant, accompanied by a few  friends of yours. he recalled you telling him that you were going out for lunch with them, but he had no idea that his outing in search of a new pair of shoes to replace his worn ones would cause your paths to cross. he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on your conversation, only to simply greet you and then continue about his business, but he paused when he heard his name leave one of your friends’ lips.

“so, are you and suo still together?”

oh? before he can even acknowledge the gravity of contravening your privacy, his body is sparked into motion all on its own. he’s quick to retreat, melting into the slanted shadow proffered by the slim alleyway he had been poised to exit, just beyond the scope of your view.

he’s well aware that this is an infraction of the trust you extended to him, but he forces himself to disregard the prick of guilt aside in favor of potentially learning valuable information about the inner workings of your brain. it may not be ideal, but it’s for the best, he reasons. what if you reveal to your friends ways that he could better serve as your boyfriend? what if you feel more comfortable explaining to your friends your reservations about returning his heartfelt confessions? besides, the conversation is technically also centered around him, so surely it would be rude to bar him from listening in.

“of course,” the thought of you denying your relationship was never a concern for suo. you both trust each other implicitly, but to hear you stake such an immediate, explicit claim over him rouses a ticklish spark of delight in his stomach all the same. you scoff, as if the idea was so improbable it was ridiculous. “i’ll tie that man up in my basement before i let him just leave.” suo chuckles gently to himself. perhaps you truly are as invested as he is, after all.

“the dick must be fucking life–altering, if that’s the case.” she laughs. “come on, tell us. is it?”

“wh—” suo’s lips settle into a small, amused smile as he watches you flounder under her questioning, eyes feverishly flitting to your other friends for help, only for each one of them to leave you to drown with their own wide–eyed, inquisitive stares. “oh, my god, i’m not telling you that!” nervous laughter wracks your chest. suo’s shrewd gaze can practically perceive the memories flickering through your brain as you try to maintain your composure, each one spliced together in a salacious collage that has blood thrumming beneath your skin. suo has always been one to fine–tune his craft, and his perfectionism extended to the bedroom as he used his meticulous attention to detail and acute awareness of your reactions to guide you to your peak over . . . and over . . . and over again until he was satisfied.

and of course, you knew that.

“but seriously,” another girl props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her palm, observing you closely. “i’ve never seen you like this before. before him, you were all ‘ew, gross, men’—not to say that isn’t still valid, but y’know. maybe suo really is a good match for you.”

“do you love him?” the first girl pipes up ecstatically.

now we’re getting somewhere.

it requires significant concentration for suo not to laugh outright when a jolt of surprise grips your body, your muscles visibly tensing and eyes rounding. your lips part to speak, but the words remain wedged in your throat. “i—uh . . .”

“wait, for real?” the third girl, who had remained quiet this entire time, finally speaks up. “do you not actually love him?”

this time, when you don’t at least make an effort to deny their claims, suo’s smile begins to wilt. from suo’s angle, your expression is sapped of the typical bashfulness he had been anticipating. rather, your features are murky with conflict, brows furrowed pensively and fingertips drumming against the chilled glass of the untouched beverage sitting between your palms. for the first time in a while, he can’t read you, and while he’s always enjoyed a bit of reticence and mystery, he doesn’t want it like this—not when such uncertainty is founded on the future of his relationship. did he misunderstand you somehow? was he wrong? no, there’s no way that you’d have done everything you did if you didn’t harbor some type of love for him. it’s simply not plausible. right? 

the silence is unnerving, causing a chasm of apprehension to split his stomach and swallow up the candlelit flicker of warmth that once resided in his chest. he’s never been an anxious individual, typically collected and level–headed under pressure. in fact, he’s always prided himself on his ability to remain composed; but now, as he stands here, body stiff and heart thumping as he waits for you to continue, he figures that love really is one hell of a drug. only the wideness of his eyes betrays his usual poise, but even that would be enough for any of his friends to notice that something is amiss. well, mature as he may be and as far above the fragility of human nature that others believe he is, he’s still only human. and it’s times like this that remind him that he’s still weak.

god, how far has he fallen? how much power did he give you?

“all this time, i thought you guys were in love.” the second girl gasps, hand flitting up to cover her mouth. “so, what’s going on? what’s wrong with him?”

“nothing!” you’re quick to find your voice to defend him, but for some reason, it doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest or the worried spin of his mind. “he’s wonderful, it’s just—”

“is he mean to you?” the second girl presses. “because if he is, i can—”

“he’s obviously not mean to her if she’s still with him.” the first girl retorts, silencing her with a dismissive wave of her hand. before the second girl can argue, she continues. “it could just be that it’s too early for her to know if she does.”

“it’s been months.” the third girl points out. “something has to be up if she doesn’t love him—”

“i do!”

suo’s fingers twitch.

your friends fall silent as the words burst from your chest, unwavering and aflame with conviction. your voice quiets as you fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, eyes still fixated on the cup in front of you. “i do love him, it’s just . . . i’ve never felt like this for anyone, and i don’t know what to do. it feels so real and intense, and it’s scary.”

your words reverberate through suo’s mind as he expels a breath he didn’t notice was wedged in his chest. “i do love him.” his entire body seems to decompress, the tension in his muscles alleviating. “i’ve never felt like this for anyone.” suddenly, your hesitance makes sense. not only were you protective of your heart to begin with, but the magnitude of the importance of this was much larger and therefore more frightening than he realized. suo’s heart swells in his chest at your confession, pride licking up his sternum to grace the apples of his cheeks with a feather–light kiss of ruby. he’s honored to be the first person you’re entrusting with such a privilege—well, even if he’s not supposed to know about it yet.

“what do you mean, you don’t know what to do?” the first girl stares at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head. she flips her hands over with her palms facing toward the sky. “tell him?”

“i can’t just do that!” this time, it’s your turn to look at her like she just told you she ran over a family of five with her chevy tahoe, and suo chuckles.

“and why not?” she flops back in her seat incredulously.

“i just told you, it’s scary!” you insist matter–of–factly. “you remember the last guy i was with? it lasted one month, and in that amount of time, i aged thirty years and had stress levels that would’ve gotten me sent to the emergency room.”

suo hums softly in surprise. you didn’t tell him about that. of course, he had suspected that someone had dragged you through the trenches prior to accepting him as your boyfriend, but he felt as though that was a topic that would be better left to your discretion. you would tell him if you wanted him to know, so he never questioned you.

“yeah, but suo is way better than him.” the third girl reminds you. “at least, i think so. i only met the guy like twice.”

“helpful.” the second girl remarks dryly.

“no, he seriously is so much better.” you insist. “he’s everything i could’ve asked for, but it’s just . . . exposing myself like that would mean he has everything he needs to hurt me, and if i end up flat on my ass again, i don’t know what i’m gonna do. and i know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but . . . ugh, this is impossible.” you let your head loll back. 

there’s a brief stretch of silence before the second girl speaks up again, and this time, her voice has flattened into a deadpan. “girl.” she blinks at you. “that’s the issue?”

clearly not anticipating that reaction, you stare blankly at her for a moment, searching for the right words. “i—what?” you bristle defensively. “what’s that supposed to mean? is that suddenly not a good reason to bare my heart and soul to this man?”

“no, it’s actually really not.” the third girl joins the second’s campaign. she scoots forward in her seat and folds her hands delicately on the table. “let’s reflect. this is suo we’re talking about. this is the same man who stayed the night and took care of you religiously when you were sick with food poisoning from your first date, the same man who gave you earrings similar to his for your birthday, and the same man who showed up at your house in the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on his back to accompany you when that storm knocked your power out—as a ‘friend.’” 

“why did you use air quotes around the word ‘friend?’” the first girl narrows her eyes at the third.

“because he was playing the long game, okay? he was plotting. stay with me now.” she answers quickly, placing her hand on the first girl’s knee. 

suo chuckles, raising his brows. he has to admit, your friends are impressive.

“so,” the third girl continues. “those are just a couple examples, but it’s crystal clear that suo is devoted. like he’s in this to stay.”

“or he’s some sort of supervillain.” the second girl interjects.

“don’t say that!” the third girl snaps, aghast. “no, yeah, you’re right. the ‘untouchable’ furin graduate who took a bat to the ribs just to keep her safe is definitely here to create lifelong trauma for her. anyway, as i was saying,” she turns back to you, “if that’s not enough, think about it this way. suo is really private, right?”

“right.” you nod.

“well, he was probably in a similar boat as you, then. i mean, you said that you were worried that you’d be giving him what he needs to hurt you, but the inverse is also true, and he already told you he loves you. he trusted you not to hurt him with that information, so you should be able to trust him not to do that to you, either.”

“that’s . . . wait,” the wheels rotate in your brain as you mull over her advice, and your hand drifts up to conceal your mouth in a moment of clarity. “oh, shit. no, wait, yeah, you may have a point. i didn’t think about it like that.”

“that’s what you have us for.” the third girl grins.

“so, does that mean you’re gonna tell him?” the second girl quirks a brow at you. “maybe? probably? hopefully?”

“uh . . . probably not . . .” you wince, only to jump when you’re promptly subjected to an onslaught of groans and complaints from your friends.

“dude, what the fuck?” 

“i know, i’m sorry!” you yelp.

“did you get nothing out of the conversation?”

“no, i did, i swear!” your desperate attempts to defend yourself against your friends are fractured by bouts of laughter. “trust me, i did.”

“so, what’s the problem now?” the second girl drags her palm exhaustedly down her cheek.

“the issue is that it’s still embarrassing!” you whine. “you literally said it yourself earlier. i’ve never been like this—ever! just thinking about saying it makes me wanna crawl in a hole. it makes me feel, like, exposed or some shit, i don’t know—quit looking at me like that! i don’t know how else to explain it!”

“don’t piss me off.”

 “what?” your lips pop open in indignation. “but—”

suo’s slender fingers settle delicately over his lips as he chuckles to himself and steps completely behind the alley corner. his eyelids flutter low, gaze soft with contentment, as he listens to you scramble to defend yourself against your frustrated friends. it’s alright, they’ve done plenty. he can take it from here.

the conversation bounced around between the four of you has certainly altered the circumstances, providing you with the clarity needed to shed your reservations about setting yourself up for a potential heartbreak and unfurling the remaining layers of your defense to reveal the lingering issue still barring you from being honest about your feelings. at this point, it seems to no longer be about you being ill–equipped and underprepared to handle such a divulgence, which he could certainly accept. now, it appears to be about disentangling yourself from the binds of shame and embarrassment. about you requiring a little push in the right direction—well, less of a small nudge and more of a guiding hand that you would trust to unravel you down to the strings of your heart.

fortunately for you, there is no one more aware of what loose threads of yours to tug on in order to achieve his goal than suo himself.

maybe it’s unfair of him to change his mind and concoct an excuse to denounce the leniency and understanding that had been fueling his patience thus far. maybe it’s unfair of him to take the initiative to strip you of the protective cocoon he had previously been more than prepared to allow you to reside in. maybe it’s unfair of him to press you, to utilize his silver tongue and honeyed words to draw out your rawest and most vulnerable state.

but when the opportunity has practically tripped and fallen into his lap, how could he not? it isn’t as if it would be a detriment to you. he has never led you astray, and he certainly isn’t going to start now. 

a venereal plan is already brewing in the back of his mind as he mulls over how to best extract such a confession from you. no matter what type of attitude you may acquire or how sturdy you believe your resistance to be, pleasure has never failed to whittle and melt you down into a pliant puddle that’s all soft edges and hazy, trusting eyes. an even trade—a release only he can provide for the secret you’re trying so hard to keep from him? this evening, perhaps, if he plays his cards right. you don’t have plans tomorrow, which means you certainly can’t be too angry if he keeps you awake into the darkest hours of the night. 

he can practically feel the ghost of the warmth of your skin under his fingertips as he keeps you pinned so that you can’t escape his ministrations, taste the salt brimming in your tears of frustration as you war between your pride and surrendering to the pleasure he plans to dangle in front of you, and hear your whines and moans as he keeps you just barely balanced on the precipice of release. he can already predict how you’ll label him as mean—manipulative, even. and maybe he is.

he’s only human, after all. 

and what would humans be if not flawed? if not a bit cruel? if not a bit . . . selfish?

[mydarlingclaudia]

I’m still coming back to you

note : divider is from @/aquazero. I've never written smut before, plus this is probably ooc, so I'm sorry if it's not the best. I based this off of She's My Collar by Gorrilaz. since this is smut mdni.

wc : 1.3k

desc : you and Leon have something special, neither of you would trade it for anything. smut!! - oral (f receiving), more focused on Leon's pov, fwb (kind of??), Leon being kinda head over heels for you, a little bit of angst, not proofread, fem!reader, wrote this with DI!Leon in mind

Leon thinks he might be in love with you. You’d always welcome him into your home, or he’d welcome you into his. You helped take the stress away from his work and made him forget that everything was out to get him. The two of you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but he knew damn well that he was yours and you were his.

It was routine. Leon would come back from a mission, wash up real quick, make his way to your apartment with a gift for you in his hand, and you’d be there waiting for him, like you usually were.

He’s been doing this with you for a while now, he’d met you at a bar in D.C. a few years ago, a one night stand turned into the two of you continuing to run into each other whether at the same bar or anywhere else in the city, and that led to more nights of the two of you passed out in his bed or yours, wearing nothing but love-bites and blankets. He liked you a lot more than he’d anticipated, he liked doting on you a lot, too.

Leon coming home from a mission wasn’t the only time he’d see you. He had a busy schedule, you knew that, that was the pretty much the only thing you knew about his job besides it being doing dangerous things for the government, but he’d try to see you once every couple of weeks at the very least. His arrival wouldn’t always be a surprise, he liked taking you out to dinner almost as much as he liked having sex with you. Leon did his best to plan dates with you, they weren’t ever anything really mind blowing, usually just dinner dates or him taking you shopping. Leon liked watching you try on dresses, he liked sharing a bottle of wine with you, he liked spending some money on you.

He couldn’t stay away from you, and you couldn’t stay away from him, he could die and still find a way to get back to you.

Leon never asked for your number, he hardly used his phone for anything outside of reading the news and work, he figured that if he had your number, he’d never put his phone down. Of course, that didn’t keep you out of his mind all day long. And it’s not like him not having your number made him unable to ever see you, he knew where you lived, he knew your work schedule. If he was to drop by your house and you weren’t there for some reason, he could just leave a note taped to your door telling you to come meet him at his apartment.

Leon also thought that if he got your number and ended up losing his phone on a mission and it got into the wrong hands and they somehow found out about you, then things wouldn’t end good for either of you. That’s why after he joined the DSO he hasn’t been in an actual relationship, as much as he longed for one, he knew he couldn’t risk it. You were the closest he could get to that, he’d never really be able to date you, but you seemed happy with what the two of you had. Marriage and kids probably wouldn’t be his scene, anyway. And even if his relationship with you was able to get that far, he couldn’t just leave you home alone with a baby for weeks at a time, he’d feel horrible about it.

You’d never really talked about it, you’ve joked about it a few times, but there wasn’t really any significance behind them. It’s better that way.

Leon was lucky that you were his, even though it wasn’t official. He could pretend his life was normal for a few nights when he was with you.

The nights where he felt the most normal, was when he had his head buried between your thighs after he cooked you steak in the comfort of his apartment.

He’d just come back from California, as always, he didn’t say much about the mission other then it was more complicated then it should’ve been. Leon had told you that he went to the store and bought everything he needed for steak, all you needed to do was go home with him, which you were more than fine with. You always loved his apartment, it was comfy and smelled like him, you’d left a few of your own things there over the years. You knew what was going to happen when he knocked on your door, sometimes after missions he just had this look to him that told you he needed your help de-stressing, you were always willing to help.

Your back is pressed against Leon's bed while your hips are supported by his hands, your thighs rest on his shoulders, occasionally squeezing his head while he kneels between them. A string of shaky pants and whines fall from your mouth as he continues to eat you out, your grip on his hair tightens as you buck your hips against his face.

One of his hands leaves your hip to press down on your stomach, keeping you still against his mouth. Leon pulls away from you, pressing his face against your thigh and biting it gently.

"Stay still, like I told you." Leon mumbles softly, pressing down on your stomach a bit harder, the hand that had remained on your hip slips down to hold the underside of your thigh.

"C-Can't-" You whimper, weakly digging your heels into the back of his ribs to try and bring him closer once again.

"You can't?" He teases, raising an eyebrow and pulling further away from you slightly, to which you whine at. You removed your hand from his hair and sat up on your elbows and huffed, Leon only chuckled softly and reached up to place a hand over your chest, pushing you back down. Leon let his hand slide down over your breasts that were spilling out of the bra he hadn't bothered to take off of you after he covered your chest with soft indents of his teeth and hickeys, his hand returned to your hip before he attached his mouth back to your aching sex, sucking roughly.

Your thighs tightened around Leon's head again, refusing to let him go as your back arched ever so slightly off the bed so you could grind against his mouth. This time, he didn't pull away or scold you about keeping still, he just gripped your hips tighter and pressed his face against your cunt, lavishing attention to the sensitive flesh.

Leon always tried his best to savor you, even though you've done this together countless times. He loved the noises you made for him when he found the right spot to suck on or grind against, his memories of moments like these with you are what got him through tough missions, along with knowing that he'd get to do this all over again with you when he got home.

Your hand finds its way back into Leon's hair, he grunts against your flesh, giving your thigh a light slap as he pulls his head a few inches away, his breath fanning across your cunt.

"I know you missed me, but be patient. I've got you, I promise." He reassures you before he drags his tongue slowly up your slit, listening to you as you moan.

Your grip in his hair only tightens as you rock your hips again, feeling his tongue delve deeper to eat you out more thoroughly. He always did this; the teasing. You loved it.

Leon's down there for another five minutes before your orgasm washes over you, by the time he's done licking you clean, he's already gotten his belt buckle off and his pants unzipped, trailing wet kisses up your body before his lips meet yours. He'd never get tired of this, even if he does it one thousand more times, he'd do it happily. He's got you, and you're the best thing life has ever thrown his way.

[ultravi0lence14]

Lover Boy

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.5k | fluff

summary: the double life of dean winchester seemed to come out when he would be dangerous and sinister around demons, yet soft and gentle when it came to how he loved you.

dean winchester was a tough man. raised as a soldier from a young age, he grew into one of the strongest men you’ve ever encountered.

even with all of that to factor in, dean was still a complete softie at his core.

his childish love for certain things was definitely a major reason. though how he treated you definitely gave it away. dean was always looking for you in a room, never wanting to be more than two feet away from you. not getting a lot of affection as a child, dean’s love language was most definitely physical touch. the man had to have his hands on you at all times. wether that be around your waist, shoulder, thigh, or even around your middle.

don’t even get started on all the cute little pet names he called you. cheesy stuff like that never made sense to you. the notion of it all had you assuming that you’d laugh in a man’s face if he even tried to utter the word ‘babe’ to your face.

with dean, it was different. the first time he called you sweetheart, you didn’t feel the urge to giggle. actually, you felt a blush dust your cheeks and a shy smile overtake your lips. since then, the older winchester has been dabbling with all different sorts of names. you drew the line when he tried to add ‘sugar mama’ into the mix, but that was just dean.

baby, honey, angel, sunshine, you name it. dean was collecting them all like trading cards, and you seriously weren’t complaining.

on top of it all, dean was very over protective when it came to you. to dean, you were the best thing that ever happened to him. if anything ever happened to you, dean was positive he would never be able to forgive himself. so will all of his will, dean spent hunts focusing on two things — killing the monster and making sure you came out of it unscathed and wound free.

today was no different. sam had caught wind of a vamps nest down in georgia, and the two brothers weren’t against blowing off some steam and decapitating a couple of bloodsuckers.

everything was going as usual. you three scoped out the town, figuring out what the best place would be for the vampires nest. when the location was secured, you and the brothers waited until dusk. the sun was drifting down over the horizon, laying illuminating shadows over the ground as you creeped up towards the vacant barn behind dean.

both sam and dean decided that going in guns blazing would be the best option. catch some vampires by surprise and kill a couple before the real fight happened. you knew how to use a machete, and you’d beheaded a couple of vamps in the past, but dean wasn’t always so keen on you joining. his words exactly were ‘if anything happened to you i wouldn’t know what to do with myself. all i want is for you to be safe, baby.’

you understood where he was coming from, but you also knew you were fully capable killing a couple vamps without any harm. with a long hour of begging and pouting, dean finally let you tag along. his only proposition being you stayed close to him, which wasn’t a problem since you tended to do that anyway.

the three of you made it to the doors of the barn. sam didn’t wait before he swung the door open, striding towards the nearest vampire and smoothly chopping it’s head off. the fight was now in full swing. a total of six vampires had resided in this abandoned barn, leaving five more for you, sam, and dean to deal with.

you felt a tug on the back of your shirt as one of the female vampires tried to push you back. you weren’t stupid, nor incompetent when it came to fighting, so you instantly handled her blow and whirled around with a swift punch to her nose.

dean had taught you everything you needed to know about hand to hand combat. being there to help with your position and allow you to practice your at the time, feeble punches on him. there had been countless occasions where dean got sidetracked as his arms wound up around you from behind. his intentions being to help with your form, but he ended up ravishing on your soft skin instead.

your fight with the female vamp didn’t last long. after a couple of punches and attempts to throw one another onto some hay bales, you found the perfect timing to swing your machete and precisely have her head rolling. the satisfaction of the kill didn’t last long, for a gruff and aggressive hand pushed you hard in the centre of your back, sending you flying into one of the adjacent walls.

a big, burly male vampire had you cornered. he succeeded in knocking the blade out of your hand, sending it scattering across the floor and completely out of your reach. his solid face made it almost impossible for you to land a decent punch, for each time he took them with ease, a bored look on his face like he was unsatisfied with your feeble attempts to fight him off.

in a last minute effort, you mustered all your strength and pushed him as hard as you could. it didn’t work, for he just grabbed the back of your head and smashed your forehead against a wooden support beam. drowsiness was taking over, and you could feel his thick fingers wrap around your neck as consciousness started to slip away from your body.

accepting your demise, you just let him have it, knowing there was no way in hell you could fight him now. though to your luck, like an angel coming down from heaven to save you, dean winchester came into view behind the man’s shoulders. his face was set in a murderous glare, arm reaching for the back of the vamps neck as he forcefully pulled him off of you.

weak from the beating, your limp body fell to the ground. as you supported yourself against the wooden beam, you watched as dean completely ditched his machete and resorted to pummeling the vampire to a bloody pulp. dean didn’t want his death to be quick, he wanted to inflict as much pain on this vile creature as he had on you. with an unfiltered rage, dean completely wailed on the vamps face, leaving no room for him to fight back.

“how does it feel, huh? getting exactly what you gave. think you can hurt my girl like that? you’re lucky i don’t string you up and bleed you dry.” his words slightly frightened you, but you knew dean would never lean towards such gruesome acts of violence. in his rage, dean sometimes completely lost control of what he would say. allowing people to become slightly afraid of what he was capable of.

the feeling of sam’s comforting hands directed your attention away from dean’s brutal assault. the sweet man was making sure you weren’t badly injured. checking if you had a concussion or if the wound on your forehead would need stitches or not. as sam started gingerly touching the already blossoming bruise on your neck, you watched as dean grabbed his blade and crushed it down into the vampires neck. completely detaching it from his body and killing him for good.

like a switch had flipped in his brain, you watched as dean quickly put his machete into his sheath and dart over to you. sam’s voice letting you two know that he was going to grab the impala was completely drowned out as dean’s rugged yet gentle hands grasped your face. he moved it side to side, inspecting to see how badly that vamp had hurt you.

“oh sweetheart,” he mumbled, wincing as he noticed the gash on your forehead. “you’re okay. i’m here baby, i’m right here.” his voice soothed you, yet the aches and pains radiating through your head and still tender neck had you whimpering, sticky tears starting to collect on your cheeks.

leaning into dean’s hand, you let your first sob break free from your lips. “dean.” you mumbled, trying to get your words out through the lump in your throat and choked sobs. “it hurts. it hurts so bad.” the look on dean’s face could’ve broken down the strongest of men. he looked so distraught. almost as though the pain you were experiencing was finding a way to attach itself to his own body.

in a way, it was kind of just like that. dean seeing you in pain brought him pain. he would rather experience any form of hellish torture than watch you suffer.

caressing your cheek one last time, dean moved his arms around the back of your knees and shoulder. he picked you up bridal style, slowly walking his way towards sam and the impala. “i know baby, you are going to be just fine.” he whispered, relishing in the way your head snuggled into his chest. “i’m going to make you feel all better. i swear.”

the ride back to the motel was filled with sam’s frantic worrying and dean’s hushed voice assuring you on your recovery. he opted to sit in the backseat with you, resting your head on his lap while softly stroking your hair, smoothing it down away from the cut on your forehead.

as sam rolled in front of the motel, you heard as he told dean he would run to the nearest store and get some food, knowing you’d be hungry after everything that just happened. from the impala to the motel room bed, everything was a blur. the only thing you slightly remember is dean carrying you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reassuring you that everything would be fine.

placing you gently onto the bed, you watched as dean got up to go grab the first aid kit. his frame was becoming a little blurry as you felt yourself slipping into sleeps comforting clutches. dean’s hands softly shaking you and propping you to sit upright on the bed had your eyes reopening. his eyes held a gentle glint, yet somewhere in the mix, a cloud of panic and worry moved over it.

“cmon honey, stay awake for me.” his voice caressed your ears with a soft, gentle kiss that made you smile. yet at the same time, you could hear the underlying tones of panic and worry. dean was scared for you, and dean being genuinely scared was not something a lot of people saw.

you just smiled at him, moving your one hand so it was delicately placed on his knee. “i’m fine, dean. i’m right here, alive and breathing. nothing to worry about.” you could tell that your words eased him a little, but as his fingers lightly grazed your bruised neck, the worry rolled back onto him like a tidal wave. “fuck your neck. i let this happen to you, i am so so sorry-“

the feeling of your pointer finger coming over his lips stopped dean mid sentence, his stunned face in your direct eyesight as you gave him the most intense serious face you could muster. “i don’t want to be hearing any of that. you did your best, dean. you were busy fighting the others, and i had him until he turned my head into a whack-a-mole mallet.” your words had a slight laugh bubbling in dean’s lips, making your smile brighten. “none of this is your fault. blame the vamp. who thanks to you, is now as dead as ever.”

furrowing his brows and crinkling his eyes, dean mumbled to himself something he thought you didn’t hear. but you did. you always did when it came to dean. “he’s lucky that’s all i did.” dean’s blatant protective behaviour towards you made you feel comforted. yes you could take care of yourself, but it was nice to have that extra watchful eye every once and a while.

a quiet hum settled over the room as dean tended to the cut on your forehead. his hand lightly held your face, making sure you stood still. he also wanted an excuse to touch you, for your face was probably the most beautiful thing dean winchester had ever laid his eyes on.

“there we go baby, all done”. dean said as he put away the first aid kit. when the eldest winchester turned back to face you, your eyes watched as he gingerly grabbed your face. he didn’t want to hurt you, and your heart couldn’t feel more full because of it. with both hands clasping your face, he placed his lips on your temple, leaving a delicate kiss over the bandaged scrape.

he then moved to your eyelids, kissing each one as he envisioned your beautiful coloured eyes looking back at him. long lashes decorating them as you stared up into his own eyes. next he kissed both of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, and finally, dean left a soft, feather like kiss upon your lips.

dean kissed you as if you were made of glass. he was so worried of hurting you, making sure that whatever he did didn’t push on your wounds at all.

“i love you so much.” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours. so much so that your lips were still basically touching. “when i saw him hurting you, i felt something in me shatter. i don’t know what i’d do without you, sweetheart.” his words struck right into your heart, giving you such a feel of warmth that it spread throughout your whole body.

bringing your lips softly to dean’s cheek, you too left a feather light kiss on his cheek bone. voice vibrating off the surface as you couldn’t find yourself to move away. “i love you too dean. so much more than you could ever imagine.”

both you and dean’s declarations of love brought forth something into your relationship. a sense of love, hope, and security. you knew that dean would always be there to protect you, and dean knew that you would always be there to bring him down. rationalize his brain with comforting words when he needed them most.

the love you two shared was pure. something driven from fresh snow directly fallen from the sky. as the two of you laid down on the bed, you wondered how it was that you got so lucky with a man like dean. a man who loved so deeply and so ardently that it spilled out of his pores.

dean winchester was the man you were sure you would spend the rest of your life with. and as he molded your body with his, hand on the back of your head and making sure you two were as close as possible, you realized that there was nothing to worry about.

for dean would always be there for you, and always love you like it was his way of breathing.

[vernoniekiss]

svt when their idol s/o win an award | [ ot13 ]

a/n: hi guys, had this in my draft for along time. currently working on the requests sent ! underestimated how long it’ll take to think of how each members would act in these scenarios.

[🫧] seungcheol

- really proud of you. stands up to clap for you, you bet he’s tryna clap louder than everyone.. shares all photos taken of you with your reward on his story, weverse with the caption “proud of you”.

[🫧] jeonghan

- he makes all the members clap for you (they’ll all clap for you even without him asking of course). “aigoo~ you won” he’ll say while pinching your cheeks. he’ll treat you for dinner that night!

[🫧] joshua

- his ◠‿◠ smile is what shows up on the big screen after you were presented your reward. he’s so proud of you, those late nights he stayed up with you working on your song. all paid off in the end.

[🫧] junhui

- happy boy. cheering you on from his seat. the type to jump up and down from his seat as well though. awkward hug when you come back because of the camera on you guys.

[🫧] hoshi

- cheering for you, cheering for you LOUDLY at the ceremony that you can hear him all the way from the stage 😞. let’s everyone know he’s your number1 supporter. takes a lot of pictures of you and your reward (makes you do horanghae:/ )

[🫧] wonwoo

- claps and smiles. gives you a massive smile when you’re in your seat but when you’re in private he’ll give you millions of hugs and kisses. “i’m so proud of you..”

[🫧] woozi

- dad smile when you’re doing your speech. deep down, he’s really proud of you. those lates night you’ll stay with him at his studio going over your song, the lyrics, the beats. worth it all. wouldn’t trade the smile you had when they announced you as a winner for anything.

[🫧] dokyeom

- cheering for you LOUDLY. beaming at you from his seat. “i knew you could do this!” gives you a big kiss on the cheek when you’re back next to him.

[🫧] mingyu

- also posts you everywhere !! he’s so proud of you. the type to shed a few tears when you. gives you a massive hug when you come back to your seat. forehead kisses !! lots of them.

[🫧] minghao

- posts you on his story as well. when you’re at home, he hugs you tight while swaying you both side to side. a lot of kisses that night with praises “well done 宝贝 [baby]”.

[🫧] seungkwan

- he’s so so sooooo proud of you. he promotes your win on his social media and also sings your songs during karaoke whenever he can. holds your hand for the rest of the night :) not afraid to show affection in public.

[🫧] vernon

- proud of you, sits there nodding his head with a smile whiling looking at you on the big screen. side-hugs you when you come back to your seat which is designated right next to him.

[🫧] chan

- like a proud dad 100%. clapping loudly with a huge smile. has his arms out waiting for you to give him a hug when you’re off the stage. give the man the hug !!!!!

[grison-in-space]

Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.

Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.

Then this happens:

Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.

The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.

Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.

When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.

It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.

I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.

I like that.

[hotnbloodied]

Hi there could I request a yandere rich boy x gn reader can it also be a smut if you are comfortable.

Fun fact, this will be the first time I've written smut for this blog. I'm not too skilled at it I'll admit so I hope that what I wrote will be good enough for you my dear~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Rich Boy X Reader (!!SMUT!!)

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, alcohol, drunk sex, yandere is pretty tame since there is smut. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

You were a business major at a prestigious college, you worked your butt off trying to get as many grants as possible. Even then, you still needed to seek out loans to help you in your class payments. Luckily you knew that if you wanted to take this path you needed to sacrifice a lot to the grind. A loud laughter broke you out of your thoughts, who the fuck is making so much noise in the library? You look over and see him, the ringleader surrounded by all his goonies, making you grimace. Derek, one of the top nepo babies at the college; his parents being owners of big trading companies. Rumors say that last week he couldn’t decide on either to get a Ferrari or a Lamborghini so he got both.

Laughter rang through the library again, why were they doing this here? There are literal private rooms they could rent if they really wanted a hang out place. Since you were a commuting student you didn’t have a place like a dorm to study in between classes that’s why you had to use the library. You couldn’t sit back and not say anything anymore so you walked up to the small group. “Hey, I’m sorry to be asking this,” why should you be the one that’s sorry you thought, but whatever, “I’m just trying to study and you guys are being just a little loud.” You look at each of their faces finally landing on Derek last looking at him in the eyes. His eyes widen and a cheeky smile spreads on his features again, “sure, if I can have your number.” You laugh slightly because you thought he was joking but he doesn’t laugh along with you so you gulp and take out your phone. After the exchange he leads his friends out of the library with him.

The next day after your classes you were in the library studying again. You noticed that someone sat down beside you and came face to face with Derek. “Hi,” he says with a smirk, “what are you doing?” You looked at him, confused, “I’m studying.” “Is it fun?” You scoff, “no, I wouldn’t say it’s much fun. But I can’t let my GPA drop so I gotta do it.” Your stomach growls, loud enough to be heard making you blush. Derek laughs at you, “come on, a bookworm still needs to eat right?” You were confused but packed up your things and followed him out to the parking lot where he pressed his keys and the lights to a Bentley lit up. What about the Ferrari or Lamborghini you heard about? Like reading your mind he said, “I like Bentley for everyday use.” He opened the passenger door for you as you sheepishly went in. The drive was surprisingly pleasant, the weather was cool and he had the windows down with the radio playing the popular songs, singing along to them making you laugh and sing along too. Your anxiety was raised again when you two arrived at what seems to be a restaurant with valet parking.

“Why are we here?” You ask while nipping at your fingers. He looked at you confused, “for dinner of course.” “I, uh, can’t afford something like this,” you said with a blush. His confusion turns into a chuckle, “dude what? My treat of course, come on.” He led you in and the host brought you two to a private room. You glance at the menu but don’t see any of the price tags, only stuff like aged wagyu. He looks at how you squirm and smiles, your range of emotions have entertained him since yesterday when you first looked at him. You were so different from him, constantly on the move, taking everything so seriously. What did it look like when you came undone? He was determined to find out.

He orders for the both of you and makes small talk to learn more about you, each word captivates him and makes him realize how oddly charismatic you were. (He’s already in delulu land) Each back and forth feels so genuine and like a breath of fresh air to him and the best part is that you would look at him when talking to him. When the food arrives you light up after each bite, never did your broke ass think you’d even taste food like this. And don’t forget the wine, you might have gone a little too far with it. He helped you back to his car and started driving, you had the window down and your head stuck slightly out and in the zone to notice that you never asked him where he was going.

He was bringing you to his place, leading you inside to his room, you crawled into his bed giggling. He gets in bed and hovers over your intoxicated form. “Hey, this isn’t my bed,” you slur slightly. “You’re cute,” he says. You giggle some more and boop his nose with your finger. He leans in and kisses you, you sigh as you wrap your arms around him and return the kiss. His hands start to roam and grope your body, with the help of the alcohol your skin feels extra sensitive making you whimper. “You like that?” He asks as he breaks the kiss to have a taste of your neck, licking and sucking with sloppy wet sounds echoing through the room making you moan out his name. “We’re just getting started darling.” He reaches down to your entrance, “look at you, you’re so excited to take me.” He slowly works one finger, then two into your entrance, the slow rhythm gets you worked up and you beg for more. Derek sighs dreamily, this is different when other people ask him for things. He wants to give you the world if you let him. He slips his fingers out of you and you whine more. “Don’t worry, you’ll be filled soon,” he slides his pants down and his girth springs up making your mouth water. You’re grinding against his shaft and it sends a shiver down his spine. He holds your hips in place so he can line himself up to your opening and slowly pushes in. You gasp as he enters, you feel so full and he did everything not to just ram it into you. You both fell into a rhythm, the sounds of skin slapping, whimpers and moans resounded through the room. You returned the favor and sucked on his neck and teased his nipples which got him worked up and he took your legs and pounded you in a mating press, the amount of pressure was dizzying and you found yourself being drowned in pleasure about to release. Your toes curl as you orgasm and he follows sooner after. You pass out and he looks at your sleeping form with his fluids leaking out of you. As much as he wants to keep you marked he gets a towel and wipes you and himself down before snuggling next to you.

Has he known peace like this before? His eyelids grew heavy as he listened to your steady breathing beside him. He was already convinced that you were the one meant for him, his one and only. He’ll take care of you from now on and he’ll do everything you ask of him. Derek didn’t even consider the fact that you might say no, because in his head he was going to make you his and it was your choice of either heaven or hell.

[aventurineswife]

can you write how any of the om brothers would react with a bimbo(in a gn way) mc. like they are stunning and so so sweet.. but just so fucking stupid it's honestly astounding .

Obey Me! Brothers with a Thembo!MC

Tags: Lucifer x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader, Thembo!MC/Reader, Fluff, Soft Romance, Comedy, Protective Characters, Domestic Moments, Gentle Teasing, Affectionate Dynamics, Wholesome Vibes, Slice of Life.

[Obey Me! Side Characters ver]

Lucifer

At first, Lucifer is utterly baffled. How can someone so stunning be so naive? He’ll try his best to guide you, carefully explaining things, but after a few blank stares, his frustration will start to show. He’s constantly torn between wanting to help and wondering if you’re messing with him. Eventually, though, he finds your innocence endearing and even refreshing. He’ll start sticking around more, ready to gently steer you away from trouble—often with an exasperated sigh, but always with a soft, knowing smile reserved just for you.

“MC, I asked you to write your name at the top of the form. Not sign it. And why ‘Beautiful Genius’? ... Never mind, just—please, no more surprises, alright?”

Mammon

Mammon is immediately charmed and overwhelmed. He’s head over heels for your sweetness and good nature, but it never ceases to amaze him just how oblivious you are. He’s fiercely protective of you, always standing up for you when others might tease. While he loves bragging about your beauty and kind heart, he conveniently leaves out the moments when he’s had to explain the simplest concepts. Your innocence and cheerful demeanor are his favorite things, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“You really gotta stop givin' stuff away for free, MC! And what’s with buying a lamp for 100,000 Grimm? 'Cause it’s shiny? Come on, you're better than that!"

Leviathan

Levi is completely flustered by your innocence. He’s used to complex strategies and serious gaming, so interacting with you is like trying to explain the basics of a game to a toddler. Despite that, he finds your undivided attention both adorable and overwhelming. Every time you cheer him on—even when he’s just rambling about something nerdy—he melts a little. Your constant sweetness makes him feel warm inside, even if you don't understand half the things he says.

“W-Wait, you’re cheering me on? We’re just in practice mode, MC… No, no need to bring snacks—oh, but you did anyway? Thanks, I guess?”

Satan

At first, Satan tries to keep his composure, despite how shocked he is by your cluelessness. He’ll be patient, explaining things in detail, even as you misunderstand or misinterpret. Instead of getting frustrated, though, he finds your quirks fascinating and kind of endearing. If anyone dares to mock you, (Satan’s wrath is swift and brutal). Over time, he comes to cherish your unique interpretations of things and even looks forward to them.

“MC, Shakespeare isn’t a vegetable… Wait, you want to make a ‘Hamlet salad’? No, that’s not what—oh, you know what? Fine, let’s just read it together.”

Asmodeus

Asmo is completely smitten with you. He’s in awe of your beauty and your adorably naive misunderstandings. Every time you misinterpret something, he finds it endlessly amusing. He’s always showering you with compliments and making sure you feel appreciated. He’s also more than happy to explain anything you don’t understand, often in the most dramatic and theatrical ways. Asmo is incredibly proud of you and loves showing you off—though maybe not when you mistake sunscreen for tea.

“Darling, you’re absolutely stunning, but sunscreen goes on your face, not in your tea. What kind of skincare routine is that?!”

Beelzebub

Beel is the epitome of patience. He loves how sweet and genuine you are, and he’s more than happy to help you out when things go over your head. If you ever get confused or make a mistake, Beel gently explains things without ever getting frustrated. He loves spending time with you, and even when you accidentally order fifty cakes, he’s just happy to be there with you. Honestly, he thinks there’s no such thing as too much cake, especially when it's more for the two of you to share.

“MC, when they asked if you wanted one dozen or two, they meant for you to eat, not order. But hey, no big deal… More for us, right?”

Belphegor

Belphie finds your innocence a little amusing at first. He’s smug about it, especially when you come to him with questions that seem too simple for him to answer. But underneath the teasing, he secretly finds your sweet, untainted view of the world a nice contrast to the chaos around him. He’ll never let anyone else make fun of you, and over time, he actually starts finding your quirks comforting. He’ll tease you about your little missteps, but he can’t help but keep some of your adorable misunderstandings as little mementos.

“MC, you’re seriously searching ‘sheep facts’ for me? Yeah, good luck with that… Wait, you actually did? Hah, fine, I’ll keep this list... it’s cute, okay?”

SOMEONE PLZ REQUEST FOR THE UNDATEABLES!! PLZZ IM BEGGING!! I WANNA WRITE FOR MY PRETTY GOTHIC REAPER WIFE, WANNA WRITE FOR ANGEL HUSBAND WHO LOVES SOLOMON'S COOKING AND THE THAT BARNEY LOOKING AHHH DUDE!!! (JK I LOVE MEPHISTO TOO!!! 🤭💜) 🛐🫣

[girlokwhatever]

gf golden retriever!paige with blackcat!reader 🥺🥺

i love this cause we all know it’s true!!

golden retriever!paige bueckers x blackcat!gf hcs

🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛ golden retriever paige with a black cat gf,,

— she’s attached to your hip AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE

— she’s very very affectionate verbally and physically

- you accept it with love and appreciation

— she’s always hyper and you have to be the one to tell her to chill a bit

— will do absolutely anything for you

— you are very protective LOL

- “i don’t like the way she’s looking at you babe.”

— you’re also constantly side-eyeing people and it’s not even a joke atp

— she thinks you’re SO SEXXYYY LIKKEE

- you just have that demeanor about you

— she’s lowkey intimidated by you a little

- she knows not to make you mad

— she’ll take you shopping, buy you everything you want, AND carry all your bags

— you’ll be getting dressed up for the club; hair done, nails done, makeup done, outfit sexy and perfect

- she gawks over you the whole time

— she’s a big fan of holding your hand in public

— she also lowkey loves to be little spoon so that she can feel you holding her

— when you argue she gets really worked up and you’re always so calm about it but defo have a dismissive attitude

- you apologize later 🤗

— you highly value alone time or just silence every now and then

- paige is so respectful of your wishes cause she loves you so much so sometimes you two will just read forever and not say anything

— paige buys you guys matching clothes

— LIKE I SAID SHES VERRRYYYY AFFECTIONATE VERBALLY!!!!

- expect compliments every few minutes (every few seconds tbh)

— somehow she always ends up wearing lighter-colored clothes and you’re wearing something dark

— she’s also really attentive towards you

— paige really admires how well you can keep composure in literally any situation

— you’re definitely more introverted, not super talkative with ppl you don’t know

- paige is literally the exact opposite and tries to help bring you out of your shell

— she’s always saying how “mysterious” you are

— she can talk for hours and you’ll just listen

- that dynamic works really well for you two though, neither of you ever complain

— you both feel like you complete each other

- like she’s your other half and you’re hers

— you love giving her hickeys and she loves getting them

— at first it was kind of a struggle just because your personalities are so different

- but you both realized you brought the best out of each other and just need to communicate boundaries and wants

— she wouldn’t trade you for literally anything

— you’re sassy AF

— you actually lost her in the grocery store once cause she wouldn’t leave the tru fru aisle….

— “you look so edible right now i swear. please let me take a picture.”

- “edible paige, really?”

🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛

this is a cute trope!!

hope i did it justice 😜🩷😒🩷🩷