#but there is an even better chance that he is just an opportunist who is

[plusvanity]

Do you have any analysis/opinions on Fenriz?

Generally speaking, everybody loves Fenriz because he is a humble, funny guy and has a picture with a cat in his arms. This is kind of all you need for good PR nowadays, but jokes aside, I see Fenriz as sitting on fences and picking sides (between Øystein and Varg) whenever the circumstances suit his image better. He is a bit of an opportunist from what I see.

He talked greatly about Øystein, calling him the 'anchor' of the Black Metal movement, which is indeed true. He had the chance to go to a Mayhem rehearsal session from what I remember, and he was very impressed about it. So much so that his band Darkthrone sounded like a washed-out version of Mayhem in the early 90s. I don't judge that. He was young, and he found himself in what Øystein and Pelle initiated, so this shows how devoted he actually was to this genre. Øystein was a mentor for many, including Fenriz, of course. He lived very close to Helvete, so he was quite lucky to interact with his friend and mentor so much, but after Øystein's death, it seems like things got in a different direction.

I think he must have been the 'easily impressed' type because I cannot find another way to explain how he started taking Varg's side. And of course, Varg took advantage of that aspect and talked nicely about Fenriz in interviews and on his personal blog where he called everyone from the early scene a 'rat', everyone expect Fenriz. Why? I assume that Fenriz spoiled Varg in compliments in a lot of their early interactions. After all, Vikernes stated that only him and Fenriz were 'preserving' the Norwegian culture by writing lyrics in their mother tongue and it was only Fenriz who got him and his political views.

Narcissists do that a lot. They will protect their source of narcissistic supply by talking nicely and praising you, but it's expected for you to do the same and take their side whenever a finger is pointed at them. Not all narcissists do that, but Varg surely did. This type of behaviour is self-implied, it doesn't need a conversation, and this is what they do even now. 'I will put you in a good light, but I expect the same'. You see, relationships and friendships with a narcissist (Varg) are all transactional. A lot of 'payback' is silently expected.

There was a time in which he was very vocal about praising Burzum and Varg, like they would be in some kind of brotherhood. He ranted about him in interviews, talked about how great of a musician he is and how they live in Tolkien's fantasy world etc, etc.

The first reason for wanting so much to associate himself with Vikernes is admiration.

The second reason, and this one tends to be less noticeable for some people, is marketing. Burzum exploded in notoriety after Varg got in jail for murder and the so-called 'satanists' were more feared than ever. It is obvious that if you want to 'get a taste' of fame and maximize your band profit, you will (one way or another) associate yourself with the most popular and controversial individual at the time.

Fenriz, like many others, tries to remain relevant in a scene that is dying out, unfortunately. His strategy is different than others, but the outcome is the same.

I'm not saying he is a bad person, that you should hate him or anything like this. I just present things as I see them.

I don't think that he is just as underhanded and shady as Varg, but I'm not a big fan of him either.

Anyway, this is my take in him.

[selamat-linting]

begging every '98 ex PRD activists to stop embarrassing the indo left or i'll kill them with hammers.

[elinoracia]

⁑ Someone else flirts with you // Hogwarts legacy characters reactions x reader ⁑

~ Hogwarts Legacy headcanons ~

Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, f!reader, use of Y/N, not proofread, swearing (censored) Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ominis x reader, Garreth x reader, Amit x reader, Poppy x reader, Natty x reader, Imelda x reader, Leander x reader.

Feel free to request anything!

→ [All characters are aged up to 18 y.o. or more (7th year)] ←

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

Context: Following the events that took place during the 5th year, you became more popular without really wanting it. A few people have started to take a closer interest in you. But you still only have eyes for one person since you arrived. However, a boy has started flirting with you and talking to you more and more often. His name is Spencer Rooks. Spencer is the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team, also in 7th year. His soft blue eyes, freckles and blond messy hair could make anyone feel flustered around him. But he only has his eyes on you and the person you like took notice of that. Today, Spencer passed you a note to meet him after class. You chose to accept his offer and listen what he had to say to you. Someone seems to not be too pleased by that... (pre-relashionship)

THEIR REACTION:

Sebastian:

Oh he's pissed. You're his! Well...not yet but you are his! He tolerated Spencer's flirting for way too long. He has to intervene.

"Spencer, leave her alone. Can't you see Y/N is not interested?"

All means are good if it makes him leave you alone. But if Spencer insists too much to talk to you, Sebastian will definitely raise his wand at him. He's not scared to be in detention again.

"Let's leave Y/N. He's not worth you time at all." He takes your hand and leads you somewhere else.

"What a prick! Touching you like that and flirting with you. Trust me, he's not good enough for you."

You ask him if he's jealous and you see him frown.

"I am not jealous, I would just prefer if he didn't exist near you! I-I mean...I know you can take care of yourself but- I just don't like others around you that can't respect you."

He'll cross his arms and will stare into your eyes.

"Next time, tell him you're mine. Tell him you're my girlfriend. And if he tries anything, I won't need my wand to hurt him. Besides, I bet he only likes you because you're Hogwarts hero or something like that...NO! I'm not jealous! I just think you deserve better!"

He will make sure that everyone knows you're his, even if you're not yet in a relationship with him.

He WILL be more affectionate and touchy in public.

He's very possessive and will remind you that you both were best friends before you saved Hogwarts and the wizzarding world in general.

"I liked and still like you for you, don't fall for guys like Spencer who only notice you for what you did. He's an opportunist! And you deserve someone who can see how wonderful you are."

Ominis:

Now he is more discreet about his feelings for you and how he handles jealousy. But when Spencer asked you to meet him after class, Ominis couldn't let that happen. He realises he was too slow to be the first to ask you out and he had to do something...quickly.

"Y/N, is that true that you planned to meet Spencer after class? Well...I advice you to reconsider. He does not seem like a very proper gentleman."

You ask him if he's jealous. You see his cheeks redden.

"Jealous? Why should I be jealous Y/N? You obviously are too good for him. And he does not seem like the type of individual you would be into...isn't he?"

He is worried you are into another boy but he tries to keep his composure.

"I heard a few people gossiping about him. Apparently, he has a new girlfriend every month. You deserve to feel special Y/N."

This might be the first time he pays attention to meaningless gossips. But he just has to convince you not to give Spencer a chance.

"Besides, I might need your help after class to prepare myself for our next potion exam. My concoctions are still utter rubbish and you seem to be the only one who actually make me improve my skills."

Any reason is a good reason if it makes you stay away from the Hufflepuff.

He will sit next to you in every class to make everyone understand you are with him, even if you're not his girlfriend yet...

He will frown everytime he hears you talking to another guy. And if Spencer dares to speak to you, he will drag you away and find an excuse to justify it.

"I hope he was not bothering you. I can make the Headmater expel him if he tries anything inappropriate. Just tell me if anything happens."

He didn't mind boys talking to you but when Spencer got a little to close to you for his liking, he became a bit more protective of you. He doesn't want to let that happen again.

Garreth:

He is not usually the jealous type because he knows you're not interested by the other boys/girls who are flirting with you on a daily basis. But Spencer seemed to have your attention for some reason... And when Garreth is jealous, he is not very classy about it.

"What is going on with Spencer and you? I heard you two whispering during class. Since when the both of you are that close?"

You explain to him you planned to meet up with Spencer after class because he had something to tell you. You hear the red-haired boy scoff.

"I bet he'll confess to you...that idiot. Hum...please tell me you don't reciprocate his feelings?"

He'll try to invite you somewhere else so you don't join Spencer after class. He thinks he is being sneaky about it.

"Please I can't find those ingredients without you, it's very urgent matters! Screw Spencer! Besides, you'd rather spend time with me than him...right?"

You're making the poor boy anxious. He is scared you might find Spencer better than him.

"I can also play quidditch you know? And I bet Spencer is not a talented potionist like I am! I'm just saying..."

You ask him if he's maybe...jealous? He left you no time to finish your last word that he quickly retorts.

"Me? Jealous? Please Y/N, you can't be serious. Why would I be jealous? We're...friends... and he is just some guy. I simply don't want you to shift your attention on him and forget about me, alright?"

You try to reassure him with some light-hearted teasing that he was your favorite flirt and that you couldn't possibly forget about him, even if you tried.

"Well...now I know. Could you maybe repeat the part where you said you could never forget me?"

Amit:

He is really not the jealous type because he understands why and how popular you became. But when he is jealous, he does not dare to talk about it to not seem possessive or selfish. But the way Spencer acts around you doesn't sit right with him...

"Y/N? I hope you don't mind if I bring up a rather...private subject. It's about you and Spencer. I noticed you two during class... Are you perhaps- please stop me if you do not feel comfortable sharing- b-but are you two...together?"

You ask him if he's just curious or maybe... jealous? You see him stiffen at your question.

"J-Jealous? I'm really not! I swear! I just think he might not be the right fit for you... You deserve someone who sees you for who you really are; the shiniest star in the sky. Nothing less..."

You reassure him by certifying that you were not in a relationship with Spencer. You then explain he just asked you to meet you up after class to tell you something. You see Amit slightly frown.

"I...I don't think you should meet with him."

He then instantly apologizes. His facial expression is a mix between confusion and fear. He's torn between telling you not to go or let you do what you want...

Out of the blue, he gently grabs your hand.

"What if I said I also... wanted to see you? Who would you choose?"

You can't help but let out a small chuckle. Of course you would choose Amit over him...over anyone actually. But he is so cute when he is jealous. But you finally give in to his request.

"R-really? You'd rather be with me? Then let's go to Honeydukes after class! I could also let you try the new lense of my telescope!"

Seeing him compete for you attention definitely made you feel really hot... He is so adorable.

Poppy:

She is way too obvious when she is jealous. She just can't hide it. This Spencer boy is seriously getting on her nerves...Why can't he just leave you alone? She's the only one who has the right to be glued to Y/N!

"Hum...Y/N...Are you and Spencer a thing? Because he seems really interested and you don't seem to mind it. I-I'm just curious, that's all! You know you can tell me anything."

She looks nervous and you can see it. She is twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

You tell her that Spencer actually asked you to meet him after class. Seeing the look on Poppy's face, you might have actually thought she saw a ghost. She was petrified.

"M-Meet him after class? Does he like you? Do you think he'll confess? Oh Merlin... Do you like this guy?"

She bombards you with questions. You're trying your best to reassure her but she doesn't seem to focus on what you're saying. You then take her hands into yours to calm her down.

"I-I'm sorry. But, as your friend... of course... I am just worried this guy is just not any good for you at all. He doesn't seem like the type to treat you right or anything. And you're worth so much better!"

"And who do I deserve then Poppy?" You asked with a playful giggle. You like to see her all flustered. It was so cute.

"W-Well...maybe someone who like you before all the stuff that happened during 5th year...A-Anyway! It's not about that, we are talking about Spencer here!"

She pouts at your light teasing. She is so terribly obvious about how she feels.

You have to reassure her and tell her that you don't feel anything for the Hufflepuff boy. She lets out a big sigh of relief.

"Good...So...does that mean you're free after class? Wanna do something with me?"

Natty:

Now Natty is very mature and can handle her jealousy very well...that's what she thought until Spencer grew a little too close to you. She usually doesn't mind your multiple admirers but this time it felt different. She has to do something...

"Y/N, I was wondering... Spencer seems quite persistent. Maybe you need help to tell him off?"

You explain to Natty he actually became a good friend and that he wanted to talk to you after class. She keeps a neutral face, not wanting her emotions to get the best of her.

"That is good to hear. I wonder what he has to say to you."

Natty knew exactly what Spencer wanted to talk to you about. But she felt selfish... She was biting her tongue to not say anything more.

"I hope he is not in love with you Y/N. I heard he was quite a flirtatious guys and that he treated his ex-girlfriends very poorly... Yes those are gossips but sometimes they are right! Well...maybe he is just pretending to be nice to you for now, you know how boys are."

She would let you meet Spencer after school but she would overthink about what your response to his confession would be.

"So? What did he say? Tell me everything!" She was trying to keep a smile on her face but she was really really anxious.

As you explained to her, you see her gently relaxing her shoulders. You don't share the same feelings as Spencer, to her delight.

"That's good. He was not right for you anyway." You then dare to ask her why she was so happy you didn't reciprocated his feelings. She was taken aback.

"P-please don't think I was jealous. I just know you well enough to assume he was not your type at all. You deserve someone who will treat you like a princess."

She has never been more relieved you rejected someone. She will keep a close eye on you the next time someone talks to you. She can't let that happen again.

Imelda:

When she is jealous, she usually just bullies you. She hates to see you with other people no matter who they are. So, you can be certain that she cannot stand Spencer being all flirty and chatty with you.

"He just can't leave you alone, can he? Always trying to get your attention. It's so pathetic. Don't give him the time of the day, he's a twat."

You tell her that Spencer asked you to meet him after class. You see her almost explode of rage in front of your very eyes.

"What the f*ck? Who does he think he is? I mean, please let him embarrass himself, I know he doesn't stand a chance...right? Don't tell me you like him? Oh good...not that I care or anything, you do you."

You ask her if she's jealous. She lets out the meanest laugh you've ever heard. Ouch...

"Me? Jealous of him? I can prove it to you that I am, in fact, better than him. I'm also a MUCH better quidditch player. Just saying... Don't look at me like that! I'm not jealous! Just stop hanging out with him, that's all!"

She might sound agressive but she really just needs to be reassured.

"And you promised me to be there at every one of my quidditch practices. And if he doesn't like it, I'm not afraid to punch him in the throat and break his precious broom."

You notice how agitated she is by the fact that Spencer might like you. You say nothing to preserve peace but...how cute it was that she wanted to fight someone for you.

"Forget about him. You deserve a much better contenders for your love. You also deserves someone that is as good as me on a broom. Spencer is way too slow. Why are you smiling at me like that? What did I say?"

She'll make sure you only look at her during practice and during other classes. She'll make sure to remind you that she is the best person to hang out with you.

Leander:

Now he will go about it the hard way to keep people who are interested in you away. He usually straight up lies and tells everyone you are actually his girlfriend so nobody will flirt with you. But Spencer just directly asked you...not fair. He has to do something about it... and now.

"What? He asked you to meet him after class? Well...just don't go? Or tell him you have a boyfriend? Oh come on, it's just a little white lie."

He tries to convince you not to go. But you still want to hear what Spencer has to say.

"Okay but only if I go with you. I can't leave you alone with that creep. Do we have a deal?"

When you wait for Spencer after class, Leander was waiting with you. Leander just couldn't hold back the urge to mark his territory and show that you were his...not officially but in his mind your were his.

"So, please tell us what you wanted to say. Don't be shy."

Leander is touching VERY inappropriately while Spencer tries to speak. He runs his hands down your back, around your shoulders and…on your hips.

You want to stop it but you can't. You...like it. It makes you feel all nervous and you feel your cheeks redden.

At the end, the poor Spencer just gave up and excused himself from the conversation.

"I think he got the message. You're not interested by him and you'll never be. I was helpful, see? "

You scold him gently, telling him how innapropriate that was. He just smirks and chuckles at you. He's so childish...

"Oh don't pretend you didn't like it Y/N. Maybe I should do it more often, that seems to keep the others away."

You stroked his ego unintentionally.

But...what if...nobody stopped you from going?

Spencer:

He waits for you after class. He looks so nonchalent, you almost refuse to think he might confess to you.

"You came! What a relief. I just wanted to tell you that...I know that we've not been friends for long but...hum...I like you. I almost lost my last quidditch match because you were the only thing on my mind."

You were just speechless. Your face was burning up and your cheeks were red. He took notice of that.

"Sorry, I just blurted it out but I'm really serious. I like you Y/N. And if you just let me one chance to prove that I'm worthy of your affection, you won't regret it! Does it sound too corny? I just really like you sorry, I'm letting my heart speak for me right now."

The Hufflepuff's face was also red. He looks so sincere. His blue eyes staring right into yours.

"Do you need time to think about it? I can give you some space. I just... I would give you the world if you ask me to. You're just...so wonderful. But I'll give you the time you want to think about it! Or maybe we could go on a date? Just to make sure I'm your type."

He lets out tiny nervous chuckles as he speaks. He is a blushing mess and he is trying his hardest to speak clearly and not be overwhelmed by his emtions.

Will you give him a chance?

[onepiece-writting-forest]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 - ʙᴏʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

Summary: In the middle of exams and a diet of instant noodles, you decide to order some take out. What you did not expect was your delivery person to be a hot guy on a motorcycle, who, as fate would have it, happens to be a fellow student at your university.

chapter notes.: Penguin and Shachi being really interested in who Law had a study date with, and mentioning of Laws ex gf, also uncle Rosi mentions <3

tags.: One Piece, Trafalgar Law, Law x Reader, NSFW, slow burn romance (?), Modern AU, law has a motorcycle cuz its hot, Penguin and Shachi appearing as flat mates, Rosinante as the loving uncle, Laws crazy Ex,

[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

Law wanted to text you. He felt a bit guilty for leaving so abruptly without a proper goodbye. Maybe he could use the chance to apologize for his quick disappearance or, better yet, set up another study session. He had to admit, the last one had been surprisingly productive—way more than he’d expected. Your structured notes made it easier for him to memorize the material, and that wasn’t something that happened often.

Initially, he agreed to study with you because he was running out of time and figured someone who always seemed to be buried in their books could save him some effort. It might’ve sounded opportunistic—and honestly, it was. Sure, he enjoyed your company, but the main reason was to cram effectively. He wasn’t ready to admit, even to himself, that your presence actually helped him unwind, even for just a moment.

Still, he couldn't find the right time to message you. Walking home with Penguin, he didn't want to risk sending a text and having to deal with his teasing. Penguin already joked that their "study date" was more of an actual date, and that was already irritating enough. Even if it was something more, it wasn’t any of his business.

“By the way, those puns were terrible. Seriously, you’ve got to cut them, Peng,” Law muttered as he dropped onto the worn-out couch in their living room. Penguin already popping open a cold beer and handing one over to Law.

Before Penguin could defend himself, Shachi strolled out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his neck, his damp brown hair pushed back, still dripping slightly. He was already dressed in his usual comfortable clothes and hearing the conversation, he wanted to comment on Penguins thesis as well, which he also proof read for him.

"Yeah, Peng. You're supposed to impress your professor with your thesis, not make him cringe."

"Guys, come on, there's a strategy here!" Penguin held up his hands in mock defense, already sensing the incoming wave of criticism. He sat down next to Law and wanted to explain his…creative way of writing.

Both Law and Shachi exchanged suspicious looks but gave Penguin a chance to talk.

“My professor is basically a walking dad joke. I figured slipping in a couple of puns would make it more… relatable, you know?”

Shachi frowned, grabbing a beer before slumping onto the couch next to them. “Dude, it's an academic thesis, not open mic night. Are you sure that's the right call?”

Law was quiet for a second, considering it. Then he shrugged. "If your professor’s into that sort of thing, maybe toss one in... but just one. At the conclusion or something.”

“Are you seriously encouraging this?” Shachi raised his eyebrows, clearly in disbelief, especially coming from Law.

Law took a long sip from his beer, then shrugged again, nonchalant as ever. Maybe it was his exhausted mind talking nonsense, but honestly he didn’t really mind it if there was a reason. It didn’t sound stupid.

"Look, it's not like anyone else is gonna read it, and if the professor enjoys that kind of humor, why not? But, for the love of god, Penguin—just one pun. You’ve got way too many in there. It’s distracting."

Penguin sighed and leaned back against the couch, nodding. Law noticed his shift in demeanor—maybe constantly criticizing his work wasn’t the best idea. After all, Penguin had poured months into that thesis, combing through scientific papers, fitting them into his argument, all while completely neglecting his health and barely taking any breaks. Law knew that both his friends were sharp, even though they liked to goof around a lot. Law couldn't deny that. Penguin was knee-deep in marine biology, while Shachi tackled mechanical engineering. Both degrees demanded a lot from students, and Law had nothing but respect for their dedication.

“Besides the puns, it's a solid thesis,” Law said in his usual flat tone, reaching for the remote to turn on their small TV. It sat precariously on a makeshift shelf they’d salvaged from a dumpster. After a few minor repairs, it became somewhat usable.

They had agreed early on not to let their apartment turn into a disaster zone but also didn’t want to spend much money on new furniture. Despite that, the place had a cozy charm. Each of them had pitched in, decorating with random posters they’d stumbled upon, pictures of the group, or bits and pieces they’d brought from home. It was an unspoken rule to keep it reasonably clean. Sure, there were occasionally pots “soaking” in the sink for far too long, and maybe some breadcrumbs were left scattered on the floor, but overall, the place wasn’t a mess.

Hearing the first bit of positive feedback from Law, Penguin looked over, his eyes wide with surprise. “Really?”

Shachi also noticing that some positive feedback was probably more constructive than just criticism, he was ready to lift the mood, giving Penguin a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Yeah, man! It’s a great read. I’m sure you’ll ace it. Seriously, stop worrying.”

“Honestly, the only thing I found to fix were those puns, anything else was good.” Law added, propping his head in his hand, his attention still on the TV. That was probably the most support you could get out of Law, generally speaking but also considering how drained he was.

Penguin’s face lit up with a wide smile, finally relaxing into the couch. After all the stress, getting approval from Law and Shachi felt good. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot!“

That being said, a comfortable silence settled between the three young men, which Law was very eager to enjoy. To his dismay however, Penguin wasn’t one to just sit there in silence and spilled the beans out of nowhere, now shifting the attention to Law. „By the way, Law was out with a girl.”

Law’s eyes narrowed in an instant. “I take it back. Your thesis is shit.” He shot Penguin a death glare, knowing exactly where this was headed. Shachi perked up immediately, practically sliding over for the incoming gossip.

“Oh ho ho, really?” He wiggled his eyebrows, grinning like a kid with a secret. “Is she pretty?”

“Yeah, man! You should’ve seen her! The way she—”

“I swear, Penguin, I’ll rewrite your entire thesis with nothing but dad jokes and send it straight to your professor.”

“C’mon, Law!” Shachi joined in, unable to resist. “You never go out with anyone. Obviously, we’re curious!”

Law rolled his eyes, trying to shut out the teasing, but the smug grins from both Shachi and Penguin made it clear he wasn’t escaping this conversation easily. He took a long swig from his beer and let out a dramatic sigh. “We were just studying.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure," Shachi waved off the uninteresting part, leaning forward with a grin. "How’d you meet? At uni? In a lab?”

Law could tell Shachi wasn’t interested in hearing what they were studying. It had been years since Law had anything serious with someone, and even that had fizzled out quickly. His last real relationship, back at the start of university, had been a disaster—his ex was a little... unhinged, to say the least. Aside from that, there were the occasional one-night stands after parties, but nothing anyone would consider serious.

He hesitated, thinking of a way to dodge the subject. But he remembered how often his uncle, had told him to open up more, at least to Penguin and Shachi. They were practically his brothers, after all. Law knew these two could handle his closed-off nature—they’d been doing it for years. If anyone deserved a peek past his walls, it was them. Rosinante was right after all.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. “I met her during work.”

Penguin’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, while you were delivering food? How did you even end up meeting her like that?”

It was a fair question. Delivering food didn’t exactly lend itself to romantic meet-cutes, and Law wasn’t exactly Mr. Charisma when it came to flirting. It was hard to imagine how this had come about.

“Yep, brought her food,” Law replied, keeping it deliberately vague, the mischievous grin tugging at his lips. He knew that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy them and was clearly enjoying dragging it out.

Penguin, not amused by the teasing, gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Oh, come on! You can’t just leave it at that!”

Law smirked, savoring the moment. He tried to play it cool, but his friends were too excited to let him brush it off. Sure, your company was comforting, you were smart, and yes, you were undeniably pretty—but Law barely knew you. He’d only met you once outside of that study session, and he wasn’t about to jump to conclusions.

“Yeah, last week or so, I brought her order and—,” Law began, leaning back into the couch, his voice steady.

“Oh, the night you had to work overtime and finish that other assignment?” Shachi asked, recalling how exhausted Law had looked when he got home. He’d been worried—those dark circles under Law’s eyes seemed to be getting worse every day. Shachi had been silently wondering if Law was pushing himself too close to a burnout.

Law nodded, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah, that night. She brought me some water, and—”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of her!” Penguin interrupted with a grin, earning a sharp look from Law.

“Can I finish without you two chiming in every five seconds?” Law huffed, clearly not used to being in the spotlight like this.

“Sorry, sorry,” Penguin chuckled, leaning back and gesturing for Law to continue. He could barely contain his excitement, but he tried.

“Anyway, she asked why I looked so rushed, and turns out she’s doing meds too—studying for the same exam next week.” Law shrugged like it was no big deal. “She suggested we study together. Saved me some time to work with someone who’s ahead of me.”

Shachi and Penguin exchanged a glance, their eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. She suggested it?” Shachi asked, eyes wide.

“Yup.” Law met their gaze, already anticipating where this was going.

Shachi and Penguin looked at each other again, clearly having an unspoken conversation, before turning back to Law, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. They both leaned forward like parents about to explain the facts of life to their clueless child.

“Dude, she definitely has a thing for you,” Penguin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Law just gave a casual shrug, as if it was no big deal. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean ‘nah’? She went out of her way to ask you to study with her,” Shachi insisted, looking at Law like he was the densest person on the planet. “People don’t do that for just anyone.”

Law’s expression remained unreadable. “She just wanted to study. We’re in the same degree. It's not that deep.”

Penguin shook his head, grinning. “Come on, man. She brings you water, chats you up, and then suggests a study date? You don’t see anything in that?”

Law sighed, trying to stay grounded. “She’s just being nice. I’m not reading into it.”

Shachi laughed, slapping his knee. “You’re hopeless. She’s into you, dude. Mark my words.”

Penguin nodded, clearly enjoying the teasing, while Law rolled his eyes again, though this time, a small grin tugged at his lips. His friends were hopeless romantics, always reading into every tiny gesture, convinced it meant someone was interested. Law, on the other hand, was the complete opposite—almost too oblivious to the idea that anyone could like him in a romantic way. He figured people didn't really go for someone as cold and closed-off as he was. Besides, he didn’t have time for a relationship.

“Remember when you were with Yuki?” Penguin chimed in, leaning back. “You didn’t think she liked you at first either.”

Law groaned. “Yeah… I wish she didn’t.”

Both Penguin and Shachi snickered, fully agreeing. Yuki had been... a handful, to say the least. Law’s brief relationship with her was still a running joke among the three of them.

“She still texting you?” Shachi asked, making himself comfortable again as if bracing for the gossip.

Law shook his head. “Nope. Blocked her. But I’m pretty sure she’s still following me with a second account on Instagram.”

Shachi let out a dramatic sigh.

“Never stick peepee into crazy.”

At that, all three raised their bottles in unison. “Cheers,” they said together, clinking their bottles and taking a long drink. It was a victory toast—a reminder that Law had finally escaped the whirlwind that was his ex and her drama.

Just as Law was about to refocus on the TV, his phone buzzed. A new message. He casually pulled it out and glanced at the screen—it was from you. Unlocking his phone, he read the text from you. It was simple: a thank-you for today and a question about meeting up again for studying. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it caught his attention enough to make him put his beer aside and reply right away.

Of course, his friends noticed immediately. Penguin leaned in, trying to sneak a glance at Law’s phone. "Y/N… is that her?"

Shachi perked up again, sitting upright, all traces of his earlier relaxation gone. "Oh, oh, what’s she saying?"

Law sighed, turning his phone away from Penguin, who was getting a little too close for comfort. “Ever heard of privacy?” he muttered, giving them both a warning look.

Penguin exchanged a mischievous grin with Shachi. "She wants to meet up again, doesn’t she?"

Law groaned, clearly annoyed. "It's just for studying. Now leave me alone."

“You could invite her over—” Shachi started, the teasing tone back in his voice.

“Definitely not.“

The last thing he needed was his friends playing matchmaker or causing any more awkwardness.

“Fine, fine, you're no fun... but how about this?” Shachi persisted, undeterred by the warning glare from Law. His patience was already wearing thin, and he was starting to regret even mentioning you to his friends, but Shachi was never one to be easily intimidated.

Law sighed, letting him continue. There was no stopping Shachi when he was on a roll.

“Do whatever you want, study for your exam, but if she seems cool, maybe bring her to the party in two weeks?” Shachi suggested casually.

“What party? The one your engineering group is throwing?” Law asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that one. By the way, Ikkaku said she’d come too,” Shachi added quickly, his tone more genuine this time. He wasn't trying to push Law into anything, just offering an idea.

Law looked at him for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. It was a simple, friendly offer, not the usual teasing. Shachi knew Law had sworn off dating after Yuki‘s chaotic exit from his life, but he was just trying to help him see that not every connection had to be a disaster.

“Just think about it," Shachi continued. "Study with her, get to know her, and if things feel right, you can bring her along. It's not like you're signing up for a lifelong commitment.”

Penguin chimed in, grinning. “Yeah, man, no one's saying you have to get married. Just have a little fun, meet some people. Who knows?”

Law rolled his eyes but didn’t dismiss the idea outright. He was always packed with work and studying that socializing, let alone dating, had taken a backseat. The idea of bringing you to a party wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He could keep it casual, see where things went—no pressure, no expectations.

“We’ll see,” Law muttered, and took his beer back and leaned into the couch once more. He was glad the topic was over, and he could finally relax…even though you still ghosted around in his mind, especially after what his friends had told him.

Where you really interested?

…Nah, couldn’t be.

tag list: @mars-mizuko (Comment to be added 🖤)

[yannaryartside]

Shapiro’s angle

I don't think this guy is bad news, or a bad guy per se.

I think he is just an opportunist. And I think he is doing this mostly for himself.

I may be wrong, but for me, the most on-the-nose foreshadowing about Shapiro was Luca telling him:

"Are you getting your sticky fingers on everything again?"

This was right before he asked to talk to Sydney (about the partnership) at Ever's funeral. It was definitely a sign.

Now, it could be a warning about his bad intentions; sticky fingers could be related to wanting to trap someone and never let them go. Maybe Syd should have Pete revise that new partnership agreement.

Mostly, I have a hard time thinking Andrea Terry would have a CDC that was actually toxic or damaging; his true colors would have shown at some point, and she would have known. Maybe that's me being optimistic. Maybe he would show his actual colors when he doesn't have to answer to anybody. Luca hasn't seemed to get awful vibes from him, either.

FINGERPRINTS OF LEGACY

But I associate the sticky fingers comment more with Shapiro wanting to get a "fingerprint" on Sydney. The way a fingerprint may alter the presentation of a fine ceramic plate. Is about marking it as yours, it was in your hands.

Shapiro may think that he has gotten as good as he can get on his own merit, he said he would have stayed with Andrea forever if she hadn't closed Ever, which is a remark on his lack of ambition as a cdc. I think he may be a chef who (also, as he said) is tired of the all-day cooking job, but he still wants to get some glory under his name without all the work. Proteges are a good way to do that.

The only thing about Sydney he knows that could indicate her potential (besides her cooking, which he only tested once) is that she works for Carmen. Carmen has been awarded the best in the world, and the fact that he sees something in Sydney may be enough for Shapiro to bet on her (and a huge bet, considering how much freedom he promised her). Now, what kind of mentor would he be? I would like to think he will try to be Andrea and see where it gets him.

He may have seen the bear's kitchen's obvious lack of functionality and seen it as an opportunity to steal Carmy's best asset from him while she is still unknown by the industry. She could become more expensive to get in the future if she gets a name under Carmen. Shapiro has better chances to get her now. He may even say in the future that he was the only one capable of forming her like a chef while Carmy didn't.

So yeah, he is making a bet on an unknown asset with the hope that it will pay off later since Carmys is not looking. We don't know much about his character besides the fact that at Ever, everyone was cool with him.

I DON'T WANT SYDNEY TO FAIL OR GET SCREWED

Besides how much I care for her—I know it sounds obvious—I don't think it would be a good narrative for the show either way.

Because she has survived Carmy, that has been horrible, but in terms of women in the workplace, at least she doesn't have to worry about being exploited (or other horrible things that we know could happen in these spaces) because Carmy cares about her well-being, the same as the rest of the family.

So, if she hypothetically goes with Shapiro because her voice is being drowned under Carmy's madness, and then Shapiro screws her over, and Carmy has to rescue her.

I am sorry, fuck that.

Because what is the lesson on that? Women should stick around toxic behavior, being grateful that at least they are not taken advantage of? Better the devil you know than the one you don't? Sydney is very capable, and you will punish her for believing in herself?

image by @gingergofastboatsmojito

[zeebreezin]

A Reputation of Some Importance:

Months of planning have gone into this moment. You stand atop one of London’s crooked rooftops, and wait for a ship to pull into dock. The sensation of standing atop a precipice strikes you, of a hundred men scattered across the continent and beyond at your back, of the people you know will venerate this day, even if they never know you. You can almost see it, the Moonlit Chessboard’s spectral pieces sliding across the Zee. Power courses hungry in your vines. White is in Check. Your move. This action will define your reputation, for better or worse. Be sure you’re ready to do this.

A Chancy Challenge Your Watchful + A Player of Chess quality gives you a 55% chance of success.

-> Let It Be Enough.

Checkmate (success!)

The plan is a delicate one. Weeks were spent on the bait alone, engineering a craze for cut rubber jewellery that would lure the Belgian King to celebrate the sudden influx of wealth, stolen from their colonies’ resources & the people that slaved for them. A Reckless Playwright and their many Trendsetting Sycophants become pieces on the board, and soon the tasteless trend takes hold. A few in Brussels convince their king to descend, to shake a few hands below, a show of solidarity with a weak and grasping city. And so, it begins. Matadi, Mombasa, Luanda, Khartoum. Written games of chess are carried through the jungle & across the savanna, moves marked by the banks of the Nile. Forces inside the Congo and out are ready. The reports of the atrocities are drafted, journalists arriving in Brussels while the Belgian King descends below. Once the news is confirmed, the word will break. The Belgian King descends in an amusing display of poorly concealed exuberance. He does not stay for long - a party, a conversation with a few of the Ministry, a nod from the Traitor Empress. It’s unnecessary to your plan, but you seek him out. The disguise of house staff is an easy one to wear, a decade of training sliding on like a second skin. You say nothing to him, of course. But you look him in the eye. You trust only one Licenatiate for the job. The Ravenous Acumen has never failed you when it comes to methods of death, and the toxin is a precise thing. Applied delicately to the stem of a wine glass at the Belgian King’s last meal within the Shuttered Palace. He sets zail hours after. The poison will not kill for hours after application, a corrosion of some core drive leading to lethargy while at zee. It’s the timing that’s critical. Too early, and they risk the ship turning back towards London, towards palace doctors who will know what they see. Too late, and the toxin will be deemed impossible under the sun’s law, and be rendered inert. You see the White King tipping back in your dreams for days, slowly, slowly, slowly. The Belgian King lapses into unconsciousness just after his ship enters the canal. He is dead before the water bleeds into surface tone-blue. No cause of death will be found, laws bent against the forces of the White. No poison could do this, of course. He passed peacefully, in his sleep, and none above will know the agony he died in. Lawmakers arrive home to chaos, to demands for liberation. Belgium will try to hold the colony, of course, those far from the scene. You’ve catalogued their dreams, scandals, and left a bounty for the opportunists. Dossiers left in convenient locations, a flank unguarded. Red will snap up the blackmail, and break their front further. A willing and necessary sacrifice. But the Congo will stay free. All these things come to pass far from your cluttered study. The pieces fall one by one, and now others make moves of their own. Your work is far from over, and it may never truly be over. Much was lost for this, but much will be gained. So many, so far from you now, may finally know freedom, and that knowledge is as heavy as it is peaceful. Those in Wilmont’s End breathe whispers of a Tenebrous Rook, of the unknown that struck down a king. You raise a toast, alone in your study. Is it enough? Have you done enough? Have you earned what you have gained? Would she forgive you, for what you had to do to get here? On this night, at least, you know the answer.

[wysteriaisapenguin]

Slay the Princess - Atonement AU

Sorry if I don’t have any visuals to go with this, but hopefully the more I expand on this AU I’ll draw something for it

TLDR: An “Everyone Hates You” ending but only half of the voices are present and the other half are awakened after LQ is left exiled. Now LQ must find a way to redeem Themself while the voices fight amongst each other.

(Content warning for gore mention and depressive thoughts. Will also include STP spoilers. Read at your own risk!)

Summary: After the Long Quiet, a loathsome bastard who liked causing chaos, slayed the Princess once and for all, They create a new world free from death and suffering. But what They didn’t anticipate was the wrath of Their voices, who were angry at LQ for treating them so horribly and mocking them for their deaths whenever They approached the mirror. They mercilessly attack LQ, stripping Them away from Their godhood by separating themselves from Their body. While LQ was exiled in disgrace and left to face the consequences of Their actions, the voices decided to take it upon themselves to rule the new world. This included Hero, Cold, Cheated, Stubborn, Paranoid, Opportunist, and Contrarian. Because of their hatred towards LQ, their pain and anger manifested as they slowly became worse versions of themselves.

While Contrarian tried to maintain his sanity and did his best to lighten things up by being his usual funny self, it wasn’t enough. Tensions were always high and everyone was “too serious” to pay attention to him. It had even got to the point where Hero, who now called himself “Savior”, wouldn’t even smile around him anymore. Contrarian couldn’t stand seeing his close friend, who was once a steadfast and compassionate hero, turn into a cold and tired shell of himself. He was so uncomfortable with the gloomy atmosphere that he decided to run away. There was no point for him to be around his fellow voices.

Eventually Contrarian was found by LQ and four “new” voices, who woke up sometime after LQ was exiled. This includes Broken, Hunted, Skeptic, and Smitten. The four of them have been helping LQ survive while hiding from the warped voices. Contrarian is glad to see LQ again and understands Their regret of making things worse for everyone just for the fun of it. (After all, he was guilty of doing the same thing…) But now that he knew that LQ wants to redeem Themself for the terrible things They’ve done, he is determined to help Them do so. Teaming up with the four other voices, Contrarian and his new allies plan to rise up against Savior’s rule and give LQ another chance to save the world.

The Warped Voices - Team Hero

Hero -> Savior: As the leader of the warped voices, he takes it upon himself to carry everyone’s burdens, whether they ask for his help or not. As a result, he is always tired and stressed out. He has complicated feelings towards LQ; he is disappointed in Them but doesn’t outright hate Them. He figures that if LQ won’t make the new world a better place, he’ll have to do just that himself. Thorny branches begin to grow on his body and the more his mental state wavers, the more branches grow on him.

Cold -> Ruthless: Continues to play his role as the “ideal version” of LQ despite becoming a separate entity from Them and achieving what the Narrator had always wanted. He is partnered with Cheated to find LQ and slay Them once and for all. He now wear a veil that hides his face. If one were to remove it, they would see a horrifyingly mutilated face devoid of emotion. Anything he touches become just as frigid and numb as him.

Cheated -> Vindictive: After being screwed over one too many times, he is delighted to finally have the power to control the new world to his liking. He still sees life as a game but plans to keep on winning and let the losers suffer the same pain that he had felt. Anyone who stands a chance against him will be shouted at with his spiteful words. With Cold’s help, he has also learned how to become a skilled fighter and thinks killing LQ would be the ultimate victory.

Stubborn -> Bloodthirsty: Has become restless and furious now that he has no reason to fight in the new world. So he gives himself a purpose by fueling all his hatred forwards LQ and decides that he won’t rest until he is able to kill Them with his own hands. As a result, he becomes just as bloodthirsty, grotesque, and powerful as the Fury. He is considered one of the deadliest fighters of the warped voices, though he prefers to fight alone.

Paranoid -> Hysterical: Is more of a nervous wreck than ever. She always keeps a close eye on the other voices, especially Opportunist, in case they do anything rash and dangerous. Constantly in a state of panic, she can’t afford to trust anyone anymore, not even her fellow voices. The only one she trusts is Hero because he understands her paranoia more than anyone and is always there for her. Because of this, the two have become closer than ever.

Opportunist -> Cutthroat: Believes that staying on the side of the warped voices makes him feel more powerful and likable. And even so, he wants more. Instead of fighting like the other voices, he assigns himself as Hero’s assistant by appealing to him and always agreeing with his decisions. When he overhears that a new group of voices have appeared, he believes he has what it takes to convince them to join the “winning side”.

The ‘New’ Voices - Team LQ

Broken: The first of the ‘new voices’ to be awakened by LQ after They were exiled. Hopeless, small, and fragile, they believe that they are beyond saving and deserve every horrible thing that is being put upon them for committing a sin so great. Despite being unable to do anything, they are always seen with LQ, serving as some sort of comfort for Them. They understand LQ’s misery and wallows with Them, crying about how pathetic they both are.

Hunted: A voice awakened from LQ’s desire to hide and survive from the wrath of the warped voices. Out of the new voices, it is the only one capable of fighting against the warped voices and relies on its pure instinct, heightened senses, and swiftness. Despite this, it is still no match for Stubborn, Cold, and Cheated. It is very protective of its allies and swears to keep them safe at all costs.

Skeptic: A voice awakened by LQ’s self doubt and questions if They can change and make amends. He works alongside Hunted to find the best strategies to help LQ, as well as the other voices, survive and keep Them safe. Despite this, he is somewhat insecure about being unable to fight for himself, since he had been severely beaten up by Stubborn several times. Although he is intelligent and observant, he wishes he could be more useful in dire situations.

Smitten: The last voice awakened by LQ’s reminiscence of the Princess. While the other new voices have no memory of the Princess, Smitten is the only one who remembers her. Wistful but hopeful, He firmly believes that LQ has to keep on living and never lose hope so that They can make things right again, especially for her sake. Though this mindset starts to waver as he learns about the truth behind LQ’s past actions…

Contrarian: One of LQ’s original voices, but after feeling left out by them, he runs away and joins LQ. He still likes to make jokes every now and then, but it only helps in cheering LQ up. Part of him wonders if everything would be so much better without him…while he gets along well with the new voices, he misses Hero and wonders if his close friend is doing well without him. He has no hard feelings towards LQ and feels relieved that they share something in common.

[cross-my-heartt]

Three antagonists, three distinct attitudes, all representative of what the Empire stands for as a whole

I wanted to take a moment to appreciate what a good job TBB has been doing with its antagonists so far, especially our three imperial officers here. A good antagonist is so important to a good story and I love how each of these characters has a distinct feel about them even though they’re all meant to represent the Empire’s worst qualities. (Yes, Hemlock isn’t included here. That guy's a whole new category of yikes.)

Tarkin: ruthless authoritarianism

Tarkin is the perfect representation of unfeeling single-minded power. He's willing to go however far it takes to accomplish the Empire's goals, eradicating all that stand in its way or dare to oppose it. He hated the jedi for their reluctance to go against their moral code and their unwillingness to bend to the Republic’s will and he hates the clones for much the same reason.

Tarkin believes that nothing should stand in the way of victory. He is the face of a regime that tolerates no opposition, no hesitation and no failure and shows no inhibitions when enforcing those rules.

Morals and human lives are meaningless when the interests of the Empire are at stake.

In a way that simplicity is what makes him so intimidating – his is a straightforward but absolute point of view. That’s scary as hell when it belongs to someone with so much power.

Rampart: calculating ambition

Unlike Tarkin, Rampart represents those that see power as an end rather than a means to one. He’s the rank climber. The smarmy bootlicker. The ambitious overachiever who’s willing to make concessions in the name of success.

We learn that the implementation of chain codes was his initiative. That he’s the one behind project War Mantle. We see how animated and obsequious he is when talking to Tarkin only for him to show his true (dismissive and arrogant) colors to those he considers his subordinates later.

He readily uses and manipulates those he can use for the sake of his own personal gain. This could be the renegade batch or Crosshair to whom he's open about his doubt in regards to his loyalty and that’s where he and Tarkin differ.

He’s dangerous because he is cunning and his cunning allows him to exploit the opportunities the Empire has to offer. He may or may not care for the system itself, but he certainly cares about what it can do for him, which is why he works to further its cause.

It's the kind of self interest that has little regard for morality. Rampart isn’t tolerant of anything that threatens his reputation and by extension his chances of success and he will dispose of anyone who isn’t convenient to him.

Which makes it all the more ironic that he himself was disposed of when he became inconvenient to the Empire.

Nolan: bigoted loyalty

If Rampart was the calculating opportunist, Nolan is his (even more) despicable counterpart. He’s the small insecure man who nonetheless profits from his political alignment, not because he’s competent but because he’s a good little imperial henchman and it gives him a sense of importance.

All in all, he’s the precursor to all the bumbling imperial officers we see in later star wars media, who stand not on merit but on selling themselves to a regime.

A man who cowers at a little turbulence

and has no experience under his belt and yet touts his rank and considers himself better than the clones.

He’s the typical bigot who tramples over others – resorting to derogatory labels (such as 'used equipment') and treating them as less than human – just because he can and because it gives him a power high.

If Rampart saw the clones as a resource that could be used to the very end, Nolan sees sparing medical supplies for one as a ‘waste of resources’. Which is bullshit of course. But prejudice is pretty bad at pretending it’s logical. And the show does a good job of showing us the various little pathetic excuses it tries to hide behind.

(I thought I couldn't hate this guy more and yet I somehow managed it after writing this lol.)

[birdmitosis]

Since a minor theme for today's posts seems to be Voice of the Opportunist thoughts... You know, I actually quite like the guy. He's nowhere near the top of my list of fave Voices -- in fact, he'd probably be in my bottom three -- but I've grown to sincerely love all of them in their own ways.

Paranoid

Cold

Contrarian

Hunted

Hero

Cheated

Skeptic

Broken

Opportunist

Stubborn

Smitten

Like, that's probably my rough order of Voices? But I really love Stubborn and Smitten too at this point, like a lot. And Opportunist... really interests me. I don't feel as bad about him as I think a lot of people do. (Thoughts under the cut!)

I think what gets me about Opportunist is that, while he can come across very badly for sure, I think there are two main things he wants that drive all of his (very bad) ideas: He very badly wants to be liked, but that's secondary to the fact that he wants to survive. He's just geared strongly towards survival in a way that's more... social than physical. He wants to side with the people he thinks are the most powerful without actually upsetting anyone, until he gets to a point where he feels like we have enough power to be able to wield it. And as one of the Voices, he is actually very "we"-focused -- he talks about looking out for number one, yes, but you're all kind of a collective "number one" and he maybe makes that most clear in The Wraith chapter, where he never wavers from vocally trying to make the situation better for himself and Hero and Paranoid. He never threatens any of the other Voices either -- and not even, iirc, the Narrator, though he does turn his back on the Narrator when it becomes clear he's something of a paper tiger -- just the Princess, in situations where she has proven how dangerous she is, and not even always then. (Again, in The Wraith, he's not even pleased to have overpowered her if you decide to toss her into a bottomless pit.) He does want to be liked, too, that much is clear and seems to be completely sincere. He likes traveling (or at least the idea of it) because he thinks it makes him "relatable." He totally unnecessarily tries to smooth everything over with you and the other Voices in a way that doesn't always, to me, feel like him just being mealy-mouthed in a self-serving way; the example of this that stands out to me is in The Moment of Clarity, when Stubborn and Contrarian are tired of Skeptic's philosophizing and he jumps in to reassure, "They're good questions. Great questions, even. But they don't have any answers," and there's something oddly... gentle/reassuring about the delivery. The way you get him usually shows how he's geared to your (collective) survival and why he doesn't trust the Princess: In the first chapter, if you don't take the blade but then use it to kill her, that's your only chance to get him. But you get him in one of two ways: Go back upstairs for the blade after talking to her, in which case the Protagonist has probably legitimately decided that things aren't adding up and she's actually secretly more dangerous than she's letting on (and because she is "a creature of perception" she then reveals that to be true!), or trying to kill her after the Narrator possesses you, in which case there's that clear "hierarchy" of "the Narrator is too powerful if he can just choose to control us" (and also makes his trying to appease the Narrator in the later chapters make sense). And he is like the Witch, and honestly, in some ways I think it's understandable that he's resistant to changing even when she does. She is the one who changes based on our perception, and if I'm at all right that the Voices are the pieces that break off of us because we can't change like that but they represent her perception of us, well. The Protagonist and the Witch can choose to change and break the cycle in a way the Opportunist has a harder time with. But he is much like her: "This dangerous person killed me last time, we need to maneuver this situation in a way where we can kill her without her killing us again." And a big problem with him is that he is 100% wired into that survival instinct even when it's not necessary! He wants to betray the Thorn even after she hands us the blade back! But he also just came from a chapter in which we handed her the blade trustingly and she immediately stabbed us, which doesn't excuse it but does I think explain why when he talks about slaying her right then and there he says something along the lines of "we have power right now and we may never get this chance again" -- he's still expecting this to go very badly for us.

The other ways you get him in the various Chapter IIIs also back this up, I think: In The Razor, you try to "appeal to her better nature" after she's already killed you twice (and maybe a lot more!), which is again just him trying to survive long enough to turn the tables on a threat. To get him in The Wild, the Beast first has to eat you alive, but then you stab her to death instead of letting her escape or just killing yourself, taking advantage of being close to vulnerable organs to take her down with you. (And I will say, while I adore Contrarian, I find him much more obnoxious to have in The Wild chapter.) To get him in The Wraith, you have to take the blade in The Nightmare chapter but agree to free her, then slay her either at the door when the Narrator locks it on you (again, the Narrator showing he's more powerful than he should be) or after Paranoid straight-up says "if I absolutely had to choose I slightly prefer that we kill her" -- and then, oddly, he does spend the entire Wraith chapter trying to soothe her and get her to forgive and hire/protect not just himself but the Protagonist, Hero, and Paranoid (and is actually like "this was a bad decision, there's going to be no way to smooth this over" if you do choose to toss yourself into the void with her). And in The Moment of Clarity, he is oddly gentle with the other Voices for the most part and also advises just letting her out because it'll all be okay for them if they do. All of this is just to say that, like... Yeah, he can be mealy-mouthed and backstabbing and obnoxious. But I also don't think he's a backstabber for fun. He wants to be either at the top when it comes to "who's the most powerful," or at the right hand of whoever is at the top, but at the same time I think that stems from him just wanting to feel safe -- and what's safer than no one else having power over you? Especially when that power's been used to steal your autonomy or kill you so, so many times? In some ways he's low-key like Hunted and Paranoid: "What will keep us alive?" and "I don't trust anyone but us (unless I feel like I have to)" are kind of an undercurrent to everything he says and does. ...That also means that if he got his own body I think he'd be in an interesting position. He might have some issues at first with being more "look out for number one now means me and not us," or at least having some instinctive feelings in that direction -- but at the same time he might feel more at ease having complete control over his own body, since the Protagonist losing that control seemed to low-key freak him out more than once in the Construct and his smooth-talking might have had a lot to do with how he felt his words were the only power he had since he wasn't in control of the body. So there's a chance he'd struggle with staying quite as group-oriented at first, but there's also a chance that he might be able to relax at least a bit.

[gentlelass]

Hey there.

I know this isn't mainly a social platform of writing, and if you don't care for reading my long-ass bullshit, you're free to scroll. But I was very eager to post here a summary of my Oc, Marjorie's Ford life since her birth to when she first joined the Marigold Gang, at least for that couple of people who will care enough to bother reading, since I've always left you in the dark about most of her past up until now. I will make a storyboard with actual drawings to make it more interesting to the eye at some point, but it'll take long, so for now, enjoy what I have to offer.

The recurring year is 1894, and yet another baby girl is born under the prosperous (not for too much longer) Kingdom of Italy. But not just any child, falling short of aristocracy in terms of wealth: daughter to the Opera singer Caterina Casiraghi (Ford) and the handsome but opportunist American notary who snatched the Italian beauty as soon as he saw her, Christian C. Ford. Second to nobody in her own home but her older brother, Malcom Ford, Marjorie was still spoiled and pampered from all sides, and for a while, they were happy. 

But of course it was too good to be true, and soon enough Christian's misdeeds came biting back to him, after a life time of biting more than he could chew: the notary and most of his official possessions burnt to ashes in a fire, and although the cause was officially concluded to be an accident, his family knew in their hearts it was nothing but arson: between what remained of the man's belongings, in fact, the wife found multiple letters of a minatory nature coming from some unspecified shady client of the man's, that he had evidently proceeded to ignore. The widow, left on her own with a man to bury and two children to raise,  had no choice but to roll up her sleeves, and the broken family spent the next six years of their lives incessantly hopping from place to place, partially for the matron's role she played in different courts across all Europe as a requested and appreciated soprano, partially to avoid meeting the same early end as the late father and husband may his killers spot them if they stop in a single place too long.

Such circumstances weren't the most normal for the youths to grow up in, and the siblings came out as... not any normal really: while the weight of responsibility hung on the eldest's shoulders, stuck in the role of the "man of the house" and becoming gloomier with each day, the younger could only long to receive that much attention. Daughter unsuitable of inheriting anything, too young to get married to another rich man, and with a voice too small to follow her mother's footsteps into the world of Opera, she soon veered towards theater, her frame, just as small as her voice, nimble and agile, her movements graceful, her scenic presence lovely as she had learnt to emulate from her mother. Still feeling the psychological pressure that was truly only inside her own head from being both female and the younger child, where she couldn't follow her mother's footsteps she instead followed her late father's, soon adopting less-than-savory methods to get ahead in her career, eliminating the competition before it even got the chance to become such.

All prestigious careers however have as much of a raise as they are doomed to have a fall, and in 1914, when the Great War officially broke out, the entertainment business collapsed, specially fields as frivolous as dancing and singing, and the next thing which dropped at dizzingly fast speeds was... the Ford Family's bank account.

The Ford widow, ever the loyal mother and wife, used the last funds she had to send her children to their fatherland America like many other immigrants of the time to seek luck and a better life, and we all can imagine what happened to her, next.

The sole survivors of the Ford Family, at this point aged respectively 21 and 23, were soon separated yet again, however: not any more than a few weeks after they had successfully disembarked in Mexico, in fact, the Italian government spotted them, demanding that Malcom  came immediately back to motherland to fight in the army along all other male, able-bodied Italian citizens of age. The boy, after a lifetime of accepting responsibilities, had it drilled into his very subconscious by this point to always answer the call of duty without question, and so he did one last time, taking leave from his sister and all the money they had left. He wrote his sister letters and send her more money for some time, directing them to Mexico City where he had left her. After a while however he stopped receiving answers from her altogether, an no sibling ever heard from the other ever since.

This is because Marjorie after some months of permanence in Mexico, working some gigs here and there, plus the money she was receiving from her brother, finally saw an opportunity to build a new life all for herself, where she would be the sun, the star of the scene, rather than a mere moon in the backlight of not one, but TWO suns in her case, both mother and brother. Having been a nomad all her life Marjorie never learnt to truly form bonds and emotional attachments to people, always knowing she'd lose them as soon as she had to move yet again; hence the loss of her mother and the betrayal she inflicted on her brother never weighted much on her mind, or so she tells herself. She traveled all the way up to Missouri, where she soon started working as a maid at a certain Maribel Hotel, where a "kind", if sorta odd fella by the name of Asa Sweet welcomed her in his den in exchange of a mere few favors which would cost Marjorie nothing but a constant smell of bleach on her person, due a variety of reasons, and the sanity she had already long lost anyways.

Opportunist sociopath born out of heritage, of circumstances and most importantly of the intrusive thoughts of inferiority inside her own head nobody ever bothered teaching her the strength to fend off, the rest is history.

[iris-sistibly]

I know I need to calm the fuck down first but one word to describe episode 6: STRESS!!

📍I love seeing Hyun-woo and Hae-in having a...sort of second honeymoon in Germany but I couldn't really enjoy every scene because I'm stressing out at how fucking OBLIVIOUS the Hong family is like bitch y'all are surrounded by snakes and they're so complacent 😭😭😭 I mean it's not really their fault that there are opportunists who'd earn their trust first then slither their way to bite them in the ass, but I just find it ironic at how protective they are at their family business and wealth but they can't see through the REAL people who has every intention to bring them down.

📍Speaking of which, I have read a fan theory somewhere that Mo Seul-hee is the mom of Eun-seong and Da-hye. Could be, OR Grace could be Da-hye's mom considering how Grace acted towards her. But why are they so keen at bringing the Hong family down?

📍Maybe it's just me but I don't think Da-hye is that bad, I have a feeling that she'll eventually come to her senses and take Hyun-woo's side and expose Eun-seong and co.

📍My overthinker/delulu self thinks that Soo-cheol and Da-hye's baby is actually Hyun-woo and Hae-in's kid. I mean, it wasn't shown how they lost their baby...yet. So Hae-in either miscarried, or she gave birth to a still born child? But what if the child is actually alive and one of those evil bitches cooked up some shit to make it seem like Hyun-woo and Hae-in's baby died, and then that baby was registered as Soo-cheol and Da-hye's kid? I know it sounds insane, but we're only on episode 6 so more crazy shit could happen in the future episodes, you'll never know. But my normal self says I've watched too many Filipino dramas growing up (and yes, that shit happens a lot in Filo-dramas).

📍Speaking of that kid, another theory is...what if that kid is actually Eun-seong and Da-hye's? Soo-cheol is a dumbass, and again, those bitches could have manipulated that baby's DNA test result or something. Again, that's just me being an overthinker, also I hate my Filo-drama mindset.

📍Aunt Beom-ja being so concerned about Hae-in and her dad but I also appreciate the fact that she respected her niece's request to not tell anyone about her illness. I also hope that she'll be able to help Hyun-woo clear his name and uncover Seul-hee and gang's dirty little secret.

📍BUT Y'ALL KNOW WHO STRESSED THE SHIT OUT OF ME THIS EPISODE? BAEK FUCKING HYUN-WOO!!! I am so freaking annoyed that he didn't tell Hae-in about the divorce when he had the chance. He was probably worried at how Hae-in would react plus the latter was going through medical treatments so he probably didn't want to put too much stress on her, but Hae-in was bound to find out either way so...yeah I do get why he chose to keep the divorce to himself but he could have just told the truth and suck it up, and perhaps they could communicate better when it comes to issues like this.

📍One thing I noticed about Hyun-woo is that he's brave in so many ways but also a coward on one thing. I mean he talks with Hae-in about nice things and all, and he is his wife's confidante, but I don't think I've ever heard him talk the way Hae-in does, meaning he never had the balls to talk to his wife about the..."unpleasant" side of their marriage. Hae-in was able to talk to him about her illness, the last will and testament that her mom pressured her to write, and Hyun-woo didn't even think about bringing up the divorce papers.

Prior to episode 5, I really thought that Hae-in was the one who shut him out but it was actually the other way around. Wifey may seem cold and nonchalant but if there's one person she'd listen to, it's him. Perhaps he doesn't want to say something that would upset Hae-in but the point is...she's his wife, she's supposed to know what he thinks, how he feels about certain things, even the not-so-pleasant side of their relationship. I really hope that in the next episode or the episode after that he'll be able to communicate better.

📍Hae-in's mom is terrible af. Imagine blaming your own daughter for the death of your son. I mean she didn't deserve to lose a child, but it's unfair to put all the blame on Hae-in (like why?). It's not like she endangered herself on purpose, and she had the audacity to be upset when Hae-in did something nice to her in-laws? Like what is wrong with this woman? Why can't see realize her own mistakes?

📍I kind of teared up when Hae-in was telling Hyun-woo about the things the latter should do when she dies. She could die, and this show might give us a bittersweet ending but when that time comes I'd be really, really hurt. Also, Hae-in confessing that the only reason she wrote her will about Hyun-woo not getting anything should they divorce was so that she'll be allowed to marry him 😭 (just shows she fought hard for him and she'll do absolutely anything to be with him). God I hate her mom! And yes the epilogue was so cute, now we know that they have always been in-love with each other. But I guess...they need a time-out 🤷.

📍Hae-in called Hyun-woo "yeobo" 🥹🥹🥹

[axerocknroll]

Alright, another lestappen fic idea where the official F1 social media page, in order to increase their popularity and the popularity of the sport, make Charles and Max do a quick fire questions segment (where both the drivers are supposed to ask each other questions and the other has to answer them quickly by saying yes or no. they thought it would be a good idea by pairing drivers from different teams). 

During the last question at the end of the segment, Max asks Charles, “Will you go out with me?” 

Charles who’s still in the competitive mode, not really paying full attention to the question says, “Yes,” and then a few seconds later when the question finally sunk into his mind goes, “Huh? What was the question?”

Max smirked cockily, “Too late, I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight,” and quickly leaves Charles with a stunned camera crew, making his way back to the Red Bull Garage. Charles on the other hand stood there all flustered and dumfounded and looked at the camera like it’s the Office. He laughs the entire situation of thinking that it’s just Max playing with him. Ain't no way the Dutchman was actually flirting with him. 

But when the clock did strike 7pm, someone does knock Charles’ hotel room door, the Monegasque had assumed it was Pierre or maybe Carlos. And when he opens the door he’s shocked to see Max standing outside...looking pretty good for his standards. (Charles won’t be caught saying that Max looked handsome)

“Why are you not ready?” Max asks when he notices that Charles is still in his sweatpants and t-shirt. “I said 7.” 

“You were serious about that?” Charles asked, eyes widening a little. 

“Yes, now change. I made reservations.” 

Charles who’s still a little stunned goes back inside his room and changes into a better set of clothes. was he really going out with max? How did he even score himself a date with max? 

>>>

I love, max who has been trying to flirt with Charles for years and Charles is just oblivious. so when max finally does get a chance to ask Charles out on a date, he takes it (he’s an opportunist). the media and the fans would have such a blast seeing lestappen out on a date right after max asked Charles out in a YouTube video. 

Is there a fic like this? If not someone needs to write it 😭

[chaoticgoodthief]

Voices and Video Games

Contrarian should play a game where you can annoy people. Untitled Goose Game, The Stanley Parable, Portal, all that good stuff. I think ones that allow the people to annoy you right back would be the funniest, through. Because he's never actually been in the position of being the one annoyed, and I don't even know how he would react. No matter if ge takes it really well or really horribly, there'd still be a brief whiplash moment and I'd pay to see his face during that mental bluescreen. (I also want to see his reaction over the Real Person ending in STP Ultra Deluxw, because Pain.)

Broken... I don't think he's in a mental state where "having fun" comes easily. But Contrarian taught him how to win the fighting games and it seems to make him slightly less miserable.

Smitten would probably thrive through trashy romance VNs. Sure, he would declare that his true affections lie with the princess, but that won't stop him from wooing each cardboard cutout love interest that digitally smiles at him. But do you know what would be really funny? Giving him a BL. A love interest rivals to lovers and watch him obssess over his "rival", see how quickly genuine intrest in the girl turns into one-uping the other guy. Or give him DDLC if you prefer your chaos with a side of pain. Tehehe...

Cheated deserves a two-player or multiplayer game. Actually winning against his opponents would be good for him. And even when he loses, he still has a chance of winning the next round. And I'll be nice to him and just leave it at that. He deserves nice things.

As I saw in another post (so sorry I didn't save it so I can't credit you but if you see this thank you for sparking this idea), Cold would probably ... can't say enjoy but ... he would be provided enrichment in his enclosure woth Undertale. I completely agree with you, he would deeply relate to Flowey as a character. But I have another thing I want to bring up. The genocide route. A route that Cold would definately at least attempt to see what happens. Would Papyrus's speech affect him? If not stop him, at least make him hesitate? And would he kill Flowey without hesitation? I'm curious. I am so unbelievable curious.

Paranoid should be given the most relaxing games possible. His blood pressure is high enough without the additional stress. Cute farming games, petting puppies, styling hair, just give this poor guy a break. He deserves it.

Stubborn would probably prefer real fighting to the online stuff, but still go to fighting games if there's no way to beat up real people. He would also absolutely suck at them at first, which would be pretty funny to watch. Even funnier if someone managed to teach Broken how to play the game beforehand (wink). I would pay to see Stubborn's face if that happened. He would probably mope for days. He would also probably like the trashy romance games too, but only if they have someone who could beat him up. Managed to start an arguement with Smitten about the better love intrest that quickly decends into a month of warfare between the two.

I... can't really think of anything for Hunted. Even if there was a game the suited him, I'm not sure he would even play it. He would probably be super helpful if there's some kind of trivia game about wildness survival.

Skeptic would love any detective/mystery games. But he either would be brilliant at them or completely hopeless, with absolutely no in between. Multiplayer deduction games with the other voices would be just as fun to watch, the sheer chaos of them being forced into potentially unfamiliar roles. Now I want to write a whole story about the voices playing mafia so badly...

Hero honestly deserves a break from moral dilemas and all the stuff the Narrator forced on his shoulders. Cut and dry good fights evil or no-stakes games. Just let the guy rest. He's dealy with enough world-ending side choosing for one lifetime.

Opportunist would probably lie about his favourite to anyone who asks, but enjoy games where you play as the villian or generally do immoral things and actually get rewarded by the game. I just think those games really cater to his world view. But what would be really interesting is one of the games were you are forced to realise that you are the villian, that what you are doing is wrong. Just for the funzies.

Phew, I really am deeply sucked into this fandom. Don't think I've ever written so many posts about the same thing before. I should do this more often with my other fandoms...

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Year Two

Part Three of Three Years

Year One | Masterlist | Year Three

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only.

Length: 7.2K

Notes: ….Hi! It’s part three! Huzzah!

Warnings: Cursing; angst; enemies to enemies who fuck; tech-talk; angst (I know I said it before but really); Nathan being Nathan; slapping; grinding; biting; the next chapter has more spice

Summary: Despite how irritating he can be, you’re finding that you mind Nathan less and less these days. He’s more like a common fungi: opportunistic, probably not harmful if consumed—not that you’re rushing to consume him, as it were. 

Jenn is. 

“We’ve gotta jump, we’ll be late on another call.” 

It’s a warning that’s almost never been heeded before, but you say it as firmly as you can. You can feel your team casting a wary glance between you and the landline that you’re crowded around in the otherwise sparsely decorated conference room. 

The old conference rooms at Sc(ai)le’s original headquarters could be a little tight for team conference calls, but at least they were comfy. The tables weren’t too big, but could fit most everyone’s laptops, and a drink or two. There had been armchairs, couches—enough space for people to chat, take calls, have a quick huddle—whatever was needed. By contrast, the conference rooms at the new headquarters feel like blank, sterile canvases. They have yet to be outfitted properly. For now, you’re all stuck with the chairs from your desks that you’ve rolled in, sitting around a long, bland, white conference table, with a landline in the middle.

“Move whatever you’re going to back,” Bateman’s order is haughty. “We haven’t finished ironing this out. I still have questions.” 

A year and a half ago, you would’ve heeded him. A year and a half ago, you would’ve been afraid to push back, wary of Nathan’s burgeoning relationship with Jenn, and with Sc(ai)le. But now, a year and a half in, you’re far more aware of what you are and aren’t willing to put up with. It’s a gamble, a stupid one, but you roll the fucking dice: 

“I hear you, and I’ll be more than happy to answer them. Pop them in an email and send them over at your earliest convenience. Thanks so much for your time, Nathan.”

You can only hope that your using his name softens the blow of how abruptly you hang up on him. You glance down at your computer repeatedly, eyeing the number for the other meeting that you’re dialing into the landline as you punch it in. You glance around, finding your team slack-jawed and stunned. 

“I cannot believe you just did that.” 

It falls out of Amelia’s open mouth with a shocked laugh. She’s one of the product owners, someone that you’ve been working with since before you brought onto the C-Suite—and has had a front-row ticket to the rapid decline of your giving a fuck. You shrug a shoulder. 

“He’ll get it,” You insist. “He knows how these meetings run over. If it’s between cutting him off or being late for our biggest client, the fuck is he gonna do, tell us to lose money?” 

A couple of your team members guffaw, and you glance up to see some of them trying to fight back smiles. It makes you grin. 

“Alright, c’mon,” You urge, even as you chuckle, yourself. “Button that up, we gotta work.” 

-- 

You wait for the slap on the wrist from Nathan. When it doesn’t come, you wait for it from Jenn. As your monthly one on one closes out, you expect the question: Why the fuck did you hang up on our biggest backer? Stunningly, it never comes. Maybe Nathan didn't mention it to her, even in passing. Maybe he recognizes that your judgement call was the right one.

The company is in a better place than it was last year. Sc(ai)le is drawing clients and revenue in hand over fucking fist. With the newest burst of AI chatbots coming out, there has been a wave of prospective clients. Companies that used to be too busy for you are now beating down your doors. For the first time, you have a chance to be selective about your clients. They’re chasing you and your tech, not the other way around. The company has swelled from 150 people to 400 in just under a year.

Most of your local workforce is coming into Sc(ai)le’s office at least three times a week. Some opt to come in more days than their contracts necessitate, not because they like it, but because it’s just faster to run over someone’s desk to ask a fucking question than to Slack them and pray that they’re somewhere near their laptop. You’re busy, busier than you’ve ever been. The amount of work that you’ve been hit with in the first six months of your second year is closer to what you’d initially expected when you’d agreed to take on two C-Suite positions.

Are you tired? Yes. 

Do you remember what your apartment still looks like in the daylight? Not really. 

Do you have personal relationships outside of work anymore? Definitely not. 

But you’re staring down the barrel of a year and a half of work for stock options and a job wherever the fuck you want. 

There are some moments, rare moments, when you almost want to thank Nathan for strong-arming you into this position. But there are other, far more frequent moments when you want to tell him to take his ego and his backing and cram it up his frighteningly round ass. 

--  

“Knock-knock.” 

You don’t bother to look up; you know the voice well enough. It sets your teeth on edge. You keep typing, eyes on your computer as your fingers fly across the keyboard. 

“You know, there is a door there,” You point out, “Most people actually bother to knock on it.” 

“That’s standard procedure for a closed door. Yours is wide-open. Saying knock-knock was just a formality. I could’ve walked right in.” 

“If you want, I can get up and shut the door, let you knock like a normal human being.”

“Nothing about me is normal, sweetheart.” 

The endearment makes your fingers freeze over your keyboard. It’s not a surprise that he does it so damn easily—but what is surprising is how it seems to just knock your brain offline. 

“Are you in my doorway for a reason?” You finally ask. It’s a moment too late; you can hear him lower into a seat across from you. 

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks. You fight back a sigh. 

“I’m assuming I’m having dinner with you.” 

“You catch on quick.” 

You let your eyes slide to him. “You’re more predictable than you’d like.”

Nathan’s expression flickers with annoyance, but he’s quick to cover it up again. 

“That’s something I’ve never been accused of.” 

“First time for everything. We going to the diner again?” 

He huffs a humorless laugh through his nose, head jerking back with it before it tips forward again. You fight back a smile as you turn toward your computer again.

“Just be ready by seven,” He adds. 

“Alright.” 

“And don’t try to worm out of it,” Bateman warns as he pushes himself to stand and rounds toward the door. “I’ll pull my funding.” 

“I’m shaking in my boots.” 

You force yourself to keep typing, even as you hear Nathan’s step hesitate before it fades complete. It’s just a little, just for a second—but to sense that you’ve managed to put a hitch in Bateman’s day and workflow when he’s put such a hitch in your life? Hell, that feels like your birthday came early. 

--  

“Too bad Jenn couldn’t join us.” 

You’re trying to goad him. From her reaction to your mention of having dinner with Bateman—the way she’d pouted just a little before brightening, telling you to have fun, and to charge it to the company card—you’re fairly certain that he hadn’t mentioned it to her at all. Bateman hardly blinks as he excuses: 

“She had a conflict.” 

That’s bullshit. 

“Besides,” He pushes on before you can argue, “You and I haven’t had a one on one since you came onto the team.” 

“There was that time at, uh…Karaoke,” You correct. 

“Thanks for the reminder. What are we singing?” 

You raise your brows, unimpressed. “Why don't we just pencil that in for my retirement party.” 

“You already have that planned?” 

“Oh, sure. I’m going to make you rent out that, uh—That palazzo, out in Beverly Hills? I want an ice sculpture, the most VIP of VIPs, a whose-who of the tech industry’s who’s.” 

“You make a playlist yet?” 

“No, but it’ll be done, don't you worry about that.” 

Nathan searches your gaze for a moment, and you see a wrinkle of curious confusion there. 

“What are the hang ups?” He asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You, in this position. You’re pushing the processes forward, you developed a uniform product release cadence and communications workflow. The efficiency is through the roof, but you’re still unsatisfied.” 

You look away, lips pressing into a thin line. You let your gaze drift over the decor of the restaurant, rather than hold Nathan’s eye, and let him find a hundred little faults in you. The restaurant that he’s chosen is startlingly intimate—it has a short bar, with just two seats, and only a handful of tables and chairs. The recessed lighting has been dimmed for the evening, and if the table between you and Nathan had been just a little bit longer, you might’ve had to squint to get a better look at him. As it is, your knees are brushing under the table, and if you make one wrong move reaching for the drinks menu, you’re going to make even more contact with the guy than you’ve ever wanted. 

“Is it the pay?" He presses into your silence. "Because frankly, you’re being paid more than you’re worth."

“Really? I’ve been offered more to do less.” 

He bristles, and you bite back a smile. He doesn’t like that—and he doesn’t need to know that it’s a bluff. You’re sure he’ll make inquiries, now that you’ve said it, and you’re sure that every one of them will tell him the truth: that you’ve never been approached by any one of them. He won’t trust it. It’s just an added little bit of discord. Hell, you’re almost proud of it. 

“What is it?” He presses. 

“This wasn’t a choice for me,” You shale your head, “It was a negotiation tactic. Actually, you know what, let’s just call it what it really was: it was a fucking emotional blackmail.” 

He rolls his eyes openly. “Emphasis on emotional.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” You scoff, “As if you’d ever take this shit lying down.” 

“No, I wouldn’t.” 

“Exactly, so—” 

“I wouldn’t have signed on in the first place.” 

The fact makes you go quiet for a moment. 

“Because you don’t have anyone like Jenn?” 

“Because even if I had someone like Jenn, I’d leave them to sort out their own shit.” 

“Well, I’ll just add that to the ever-growing list of differences between you and I.” 

“It’s not that long.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“We’re not so different, you and I.”

“Did you watch Austin Powers on the plane?” 

“Raiders of the Lost Ark.” 

“Isn’t that, uh…Our methods are not so different as you pretend?” 

“I paraphrased. And do I really look like someone that watches Austin Powers in his free time?” 

“No comment.” 

“I think we’re more similar than you’d like to believe. I think that pisses you off.” 

He’s right—and it pisses you off even more. You fight to keep from fidgeting in front of him, giving him the satisfaction of your open annoyance. You finally shake your head slowly, keeping your gaze on Nathan’s.

“I’m nothing like you. And I never wanna be.” 

You wanna slap the widening smile off of his face. 

“Wouldn’t take much,” He goads. “I’d say you’re already halfway there. Start missing a few dinners because you’re working, start keeping a change of clothes at the office, sleeping in one of the conference rooms because you realize it’s four in the morning and you won’t have time to get back to yours, shower, change, and not fall asleep on your couch while you wait for your leftovers to heat up in your microwave.”

You feel your face going hot. You don’t want to admit that you’ve already started doing every single one of those things—that you’ve done two of those things in the last forty-eight hours. 

“You know where you go from there?” Nathan folds his arms on the table, leaning forward and holding your gaze with a smiling smugness. “You stop giving a fuck what other people think. Like it or not, that’s going to include Jenn. The only voice that starts to matter is yours.” 

“I told you,” You press, “I’m nothing like you.”

“And if you realize that you are?” 

“I’ll shave my head, start wearing polo shirts, and move to the middle of fucking nowhere.” 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” 

“The commute would be a nightmare.” 

“You might look cute bald.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

The two of you fall quiet as the server sets your drinks down. You gaze at yours, wondering if you can drain it and run, feign illness, or snipe that you have to join Jenn at her meeting. Maybe you can tell Nathan that you just don’t want to be there—but maybe that’s exactly what he would do. So you obligingly knock your glass against his, take a measured sip, and resolve yourself to sit through this. 

“Alright,” Nathan finally relents as he sets his glass down, “We’ll move off of work. Talk about something else.” 

“Like what.” 

“You ever think about starting your own company?” 

Your brows raise. 

“This is how you talk about something other than work?” 

“You hate having a boss.” 

“You really like to talk in absolutes, don’t you,” You comment dryly. “I don’t mind having a boss.” 

“You never just wanted to break off, strike out on your own?” 

You consider bullshitting him, but this drink is still pretty damn full, and if you have it too fast, you’re almost certain he’ll insist on your having another. So you consider for a moment, then shrug. 

“I guess I did, once. When we’d just gotten out of here. Jenn was working on getting Sc(ai)le going.” 

“So, what happened?” 

“Nothing ‘happened’. One of us had to keep things afloat until she had her foot in the door.” 

“You resent her for it?” 

“Of course not.” 

“I would.” 

“Well, I already told you. We’re not the same.” 

“What was it?” 

“The idea?” 

“Mhm.” 

“A consulting firm, crisis-response specific.” 

“You could do it, you know. Once your contract is done—as long as you can resist the urge to stay.” 

“I’m not going to stay.” 

“Not even if Jenn asks you to? I know how much she values your opinion. Almost as highly as she values mine.” 

You used to think that Jenn valued your opinion twice as much as Nathan’s, but these days, you’re dismayed to say that you’re not so sure about that. 

“She won’t ask me.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“If I tell her I’m happy to serve my three years and move on, she’ll be fine with it.” 

“And if she isn’t?” 

“She’ll learn to be fine with it.” 

“You wouldn’t take her wishes into consideration?” 

“The last time I did, I wound up working for you.”

“So the only voice that matters on this subject is yours.”

He’s smiling like the cat that got the goddamn cream. You fight off a groan of irritation. You hadn’t been expecting it—why the hell weren’t you expecting it? You’re mad that he caught you out like that. 

Worse, you sort of admire it. 

--  

Nathan’s little visits begin increasing in frequency. You don’t question it. Maybe it’s BlueBook business; maybe it’s Sc(ai)le; maybe he’s looking into investing with another company and he just happens to be in town more these days. Whatever the fuck it is, you don’t care. You just care that Nathan is now sitting in on your meetings with various departments, with the C-Suite, with you and Jenn. It’s like you can’t swing your laptop without whacking the guy these days. 

But despite how irritating he can be, you’re finding that you mind Nathan less and less these days. He’s more like a common fungi: opportunistic, probably not harmful if consumed—not that you’re rushing to consume him, as it were. 

Jenn is. 

Jenn is soaking up this time with Nathan like a goddamn sponge. You haven’t seen her this bright, this engaged in some kind of personal relationship in a long time, since way before Sc(ai)le.  

Look, maybe you’re being a little judgemental, you’re almost certain that Jenn has a crush on Nathan. And that is…A little alarming. For one, it means putting even more of her time and interest into the guy. Beyond that, it means that she may be pinning her romantic hopes on the guy who the company’s financial hopes are resting on. Sure, Sc(ai)le is getting bigger, doing better, but the cash flow into the company is still coming from Bateman. 

You think of that as you see Jenn throw her head back in a giggle, her hand landing on Bateman’s forearm. He grins, glancing toward you. If you knew less, you’d think he was trying to get you to laugh, too. But it’s Nathan, and you know better. He’s showing off. He’s showing off how likable he is to your best friend. He’s showing off the fact that he’s making her laugh, not you. He’s showing you that your place in your best friend’s life is being usurped. 

Asshat.

You look down at your food as Jenn’s laughter quiets to giggles, then tapers entirely. You can feel both of them watching you, and you make a point of poking through your food, just to have something to do. You hadn’t even planned on  joining the two of them for dinner, but they’d happened to catch you on your way to the parking lot and insisted. 

Grabbing a meal with Jenn is fine. You can sort of tolerate grabbing a meal with Nathan. But the two of them, together? Cripes, you don’t think you can take much more of this. You can only hope this place doesn’t have a damn dessert menu. Jenn can’t resist a piece of cheesecake, and you’re dying to get the hell out of here. You’re not sure you can take much more of her simping and grinning over a man that you find moderately repugnant, and mildly attractive. 

You frown, putting your fork down in favor of taking up your wine and drawing in a deep sip. 

Mildly attrac—Where the fuck did that come from? Whatever it was, it’s left a bad taste in your mouth. 

“You alright over there?” Nathan asks. 

“Great,” You answer flatly once you’ve swallowed, “Thanks.” 

“Food not to your liking? We’ll get you something else.” 

You shake your head, gaze flickering to Nathan’s. “Seriously, I’m fine.” 

“We’ll go somewhere else.” 

“That is even less necessary than getting me something else to eat.” 

“So!” Jenn chirps, breaking into your and Bateman’s bickering, “We should go somewhere after this, right?” 

“You know what, I actually can’t,” You give what you hope is a regretful smile, “I’ve got a call.” 

“This late?” Nathan looks down at his watch, “Who with?” 

“Brickandbound, the SaaS company down in Sydney. It’s only about two in the afternoon over there. And, actually,” You push your chair back, “I did not realize how late it is. I should get back to my office, prep with the team. Thanks for dinner, Nathan.” You glance toward Jenn, warming at the grateful smile on her lips.

“I’ll see you later, Jenn. Bateman, let me know how much to Venmo you.” You offer him a pat on the shoulder, then round him, dropping a kiss to Jenn’s head before heading out. You don’t bother to give them a second look, you just go. 

--  

Mildly attractive. Mildly attractive? When the fuck did that happen? 

Maybe it’s because you’ve been around him so much, and because, well…He is. He’s still an irritating little worm, of course, the most annoying person on the fucking planet (after Elon), but he’s sort of…Hot. His eyes are dark, and when he’s worked up, his gaze can be intense. His lips seem far more pink and plump these days, but that could be the increasing growth of his beard, which he only seems to trim every week or so. And his smile, which you seem to be privy to more and more these days, can be kinda nice—when it’s not smug, or slick, which is fairly rare. Still, you’re certain you’ve gotten a true smile from him a couple of times. They’re in the minority, and maybe that’s why they seem so much more special when you do get them. 

You lean back in your seat in the conference room, listening to the sales and acquisitions team as they prep around you, volleying pitch lines back and forth, tweaking wording. You can only hope that Jenn’s getting those smiles from him—legitimate smiles, the kinds that’ll turn her insides to goo. She better fucking thank you for your hasty retreat later. 

You glance over as you hear the team beginning to dial in. You draw in a deep breath, pushing it out quietly through your lips. You’ve been on tons of these, but they still make you a little nervous. You sort of hate it. If you’re still nervous, it means that a small part of you still gives so much of a shit that you’re afraid to make a mistake. You glance around as you hear everyone introduce themselves on the call, and open your mouth to add your name, but freeze as you see the door open. 

He shouldn’t be there. He should be in some dim bar with Jenn. She should be batting her fucking eyelashes, playing with the hair that she just got done today because Bateman had emailed to let the two of you know that he would be in town—

“Hey, you’ve got Bateman on the line.” He’s waving the person in the seat next to you over one before he sits down, turning your laptop toward him to get a good look at the deck, your notes. You watch, lips parted, absolutely gobsmacked. There’s just a pause before you manage to give your name on the call, to fill in the blank—and then sales and acquisitions push on. 

You hardly speak on the call. You don’t have to. The team has it handled. Luckily for you, Nathan keeps his damn mouth shut, too, save to lean over and murmur the odd question in your ear. The brush of his warm breath against your ear makes your stomach flip. You’re horrified at the feeling—at the fact that the man is there with you, and not out somewhere with Jenn; at the fact that you’re feeling something other than utter disdain for Nathan. 

Is it petty jealousy? The idea that Jenn’s interest is becoming your interest? Like a little girl, jealous of the toy that her friend is playing with? Or is your disdain curdling in the oddest of ways? And what’s his fucking excuse? Is he chasing you down to piss you off? Is he chasing you down because he knows he’s pissing you off? Or did he clock the heat that you’d eyed him with over dinner, and is he after answers? 

You can’t imagine Nathan chasing anyone for anything but answers. 

-- 

You practically run out of the room once the meeting is up after thanking everyone. You nearly snap your laptop shut on Nathan’s questing fingers as you push yourself up, dropping your laptop into your bag, and going. You make it down the hall and around one corner before you feel fingers close around your wrist, his fingers tugging you to slow, “Hey, where the fuck’s the fire—” 

You whirl around, yanking your wrist away from him. 

“What the fuck, Nathan!” 

His surprise splits to smugness. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“You know something is,” You spit. “What the hell is wrong with you? What are you doing here?” 

“I was told there was a meeting.” 

“You didn’t need to be here for it. You should be out.” 

“Out? Doing what?” 

“Out doing anything but pissing me the fuck off.” You whirl away from him, striding down the hall, and foolishly hoping that he’ll let it go. He follows you, and you hope that he’ll stop at the elevator, but he keeps right up with you. You nearly manage to slam your door in his face, but he just pushes it open, chiming, “Knock knock.” 

“Please leave.” 

“Why are you so pissed off?”

“Why are you here?” 

“In the building? In this business?”

“In my office, why are you here right now?” 

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Well, my purpose is manifold.” 

“Oh, for fuckssake.” 

“But I’m mostly here to piss you off.” 

“Well, mission accomplished, asshat.”

You drop your things on your desk, then glance up, doing a double-take at the sight of Nathan. He has his hands braced on the back of a chair, a wide grin pulling his lips.

“Stop that,” You grit out. 

“Stop what?” 

“Smiling at me. Looking at me, just cut it out.” 

“I was wondering how long it was going to take you to crack.” 

“Crack?”

“You have been dying to snap at me since the day we met.”  

“That is not true.” 

“No?” 

“No!” 

“Since when, then?” 

“Since you locked me into that dumb fucking contract.” 

“I only offered you the contract. You locked yourself into it. Admit it, you hate it. You hate this, you hate me, you hate Jenn.” 

The accusation spears through you like a hot, sharp knife. 

“That’s not true,” You hiss, rounding your desk.

“You do, you resent her for needing you. You resent her for needing me, too. If she could just get her shit together by herself, neither of us would be here.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“And if you’d trusted her ability to get shit done, you wouldn’t have taken this job.”

“I thought you would be good for Jenn—You have been good for Jenn, and for the company—” 

“But not for you. Nothing I’ve done has been good for you, has it—Not the raise, not the titles, not the work.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Am I wrong about that, too? Do you secretly like what you do? Or are you just going along to get along, biding your time until you can get out of here?” 

“Get out.” 

“I paid for this office, I’ll stay here as long as I want.” 

“Get. Out.” 

“Hell, I paid for you, I’ll talk to you as long as I—” 

The slap is louder than his smug pronouncements. You’re certain it stings your hand and his cheek in equal measures. Your gut swoops. Oh—Fuck. Shit. Shit. Your heart pounds; your chest heaves. You swallow thickly as the room falls into complete silence. Nathan’s pupils are blown wide, the darkness nearly fully obscuring the brown you’ve come to know. You see his mouth move, but what he says doesn’t land on your ears the way it should. 

“...What?” You ask warily. 

“I said, do that again.” 

Your stomach churns. He’s got to be kidding. 

“No.”

“C’mon,” He urges. “I’ve been pissing you off for a year and a half now, that’s all you’ve got in you? One slap? A half-decent one at that.” 

Half-decent? There’s no way. Your palm is still stinging. 

“Do it,” He urges, taking a step closer. “Do it again.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Hit me.” 

“Fuck you—” 

“You want me to turn the other cheek?” He asks, tipping his head from one way to the other. You balk at the sight of his red cheek. “Hm?” 

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

“You think I’m mad?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

“No.” 

“You should be.” 

“Why’s that?” Nathan shakes his head. “You just showed me who you are the first time—who you really are.” 

“This isn’t who I am,” You hiss, shaking, "No matter how badly you want to be right, I'll never be you."

“You’re right. If someone I hated offered to let me hit them again, I would’ve done it by now.” 

You raise your arm, winding up for a slap, but Nathan catches hold of your wrist before the blow can land. Panic flares in your chest, and you pull in a nervous breath as he yanks you closer. Your feet stumble, leaden weights keeping your unsteady legs nearly locked into place. Nathan keeps his grip on your wrist, his eyes darting over your face. 

“You do hate me, don’t you,” He murmurs, breath brushing your lips, fanning the embers of your anger. 

“With my entire being, you pompous piece of sh—” 

Nathan’s mouth covers yours with fierce harshness before you can get the rest out. You twist in his grasp, wrenching your wrist away from him. He lets go obligingly, but neither of you get far. You cup his cheeks, sinking your teeth into his lower lip and giving it a harsh tug. His growl snaps you out of it, and you draw back. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, drawing back, “I can’t, I—” You shake your head. 

“Can’t do what?” Nathan goads, hands grasping your hips. 

This.

You can’t do this to Jenn. You can’t give in to the man that’s been waiting for you to fall from the moment he met you. You meet Nathan’s eye. You take in the heat lingering there, the still-pink tinge of his cheek. 

“I can’t do this here.” 

--  

The trip to your apartment is taken in separate cars. It gives you time to change your mind, to clear your head. But you're still just as pissed, just as turned on. The sight of Nathan’s expectant face as he climbs out of his car makes both of those feelings so much worse. He doesn’t ask any questions as he follows you inside, as he stands almost menacingly close in the elevator, as he slouches against the wall as you unlock your door. You toss the keys into the basket by the front door, setting your work bag down. 

“Take your shoes off,” You order, nodding to Nathan’s feet as you lean against the wall, kicking yours off. Nathan follows suit as you walk deeper into your apartment, flicking on the light for the kitchen. 

“Do you want something to drink?” You ask. 

“I want you to hit me as hard as you can.” 

“Drop the fucking Fight Club schtick, alright? I told you I was sorry.” 

“Were you?” 

“I was trying to be.” 

“I don’t want you to be.” He leans against your counter, watching you root around in your fridge. “You lose the fire already?” 

“Fuck you.” You grumble it, with only half of the heat that you felt in the office. Nathan laughs, shaking his head. 

“I knew I should’ve fucked you over your desk.” 

The comment makes heat flare in your stomach. 

“I wouldn’t have let you fuck me in there,” You shake your head. “That place is a fucking fishtank.” 

“You’ll let me fuck you here?” 

“I might have to slap you again, get back in the mood.” 

“I’d be alright with that.” 

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Nathan chuckles. 

“You really are a glutton for punishment.” 

“Little bit.” 

You gasp as he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you back toward him. You whirl around, hands balled into fists, and find Nathan waiting for you, eyes bright with intrigue. You shake your head, lowering your hands to rest on his arms—his thick arms. 

This is bad. This is awful. Jenn wants this man, has the worst crush you’ve ever seen her have—she needs him for work, for funding, for—

Nathan’s lips catch yours, and all thoughts of Jenn are pushed from your mind. You sigh softly, fingers curling into fists again. 

“Fucking hate you,” You mumble against his lips. 

“I know,” He laughs, even as you pound one of your fists against his bicep. 

“Do you hate me?”

Nathan hums, grasping your hips and steering you back toward your counter. 

“I have no strong feelings one way or the other.”

“Oh—You know what, get off of me—” You protest, squirming, but Nathan’s laughing again, and you’re hardly pushing at his chest with any meaning, any force. He sucks a kiss to your neck, and your pushing hands take to grasping and pulling. You turn your head, catching Nathan’s lips with yours, whimpering as his hands push you into the harsh ridge of the counter. You rest your hands on Nathan’s shoulder’s, giving him a shove. You hardly move him. In fact, he leans more heavily against you, practically crushing you into the marble. He draws back from the kiss with a sucking sound, and a groan.

“I like that,” He murmurs. 

“What?” 

“You know what.” 

You hesitate before you give his shoulders another shove, then pound your fist against his arm. When Nathan doesn’t budge, you raise a hand, smoothing it over his cheek, then giving it a little tap. 

“C’mon,” He murmurs, “You can do better than that. Make it hurt a little.” 

You sweep your tongue across your lip, giving Nathan another tap, just a touch harder this time. Nathan grunts, and it’s all the warning you have before he’s turning you around. You shiver, bracing your hands on the counter. You twist, raising your hands as he draws your shirt up and off. You can’t get your hands out of the sleeves, and Nathan grasps the slack fabric, using the grasp of your shirt to keep your arms behind your back. You whimper, twisting as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. You wriggle against him, pressing your hips back. Nathan groans, pressing his face into your neck as he grinds up against you. Your clit pulses as you squeeze your thighs together, drawing in a shuddering breath. 

Nathan opens his mouth, panting hotly against your skin as his hands smooth up your sides and across your front, groping your breasts through your bra. You groan in frustration, your grinding turning to wriggling. 

“You gonna fuck around, or are you gonna fuck me?” 

You feel Nathan smile before a sharp sting digs into your skin. You hiss at the bite, throwing an elbow back against his gut. Nathan grunts at the contact, jerking away from you. He gives you a harsher shove against the counter, grasping the back of your neck roughly. You suck in a breath as he shoves your pants down around your knees. 

“This is the best you can do?” You snip. “Bending me over a counter?” 

Nathan chuckles low in your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“This is where we’re going to start,” He murmurs, “And by the time we’re finished, you won’t be able to stand.” 

--  

“Get out of my bed.” 

“We aren’t going to cuddle?” 

You don’t have to look at Nathan to know that there’s a shit-eating grin on his face. You’ve only spilled into your bedroom about an hour ago, and since you have, he’s drawn three more aching, slow orgasms out of you, and you’ve drawn two out of him. Now, you push yourself up and away from him, clammy hands flexing in the fabric of your sheets before you get up. You suddenly feel a wave of self-conscious nerves, naked in front of him. It didn’t matter to you a few minutes ago, when Nathan had been fucking you roughly from behind, his hands grasping greedily your shoulders, pressing with a force that’ll likely bruise you in just a couple of hours. 

“Get out,” You repeat. “You know where the door is.” 

You hurry into your bathroom, cranking on the shower. You force yourself inside before the water warms, wincing as the cool drops practically sting your heated flesh. You strain your ears over the sound of the water, biting your lip. You only stop when you hear the retreating thud of Nathan’s feet, and the subsequent sound of your front door closing. Once he’s out, you feel yourself relax marginally, bracing your hands against the wall and tipping your head under the warming water. You take painstaking care to clean yourself, doing your best to wipe his touch, skin, sweat, and cum from every inch of your body. 

Fuck, you can’t believe what you’ve done. Nathan is the company’s biggest backer. He helped you gain your footing; he helped you create a proper place for yourself in the market. He’s Jenn’s mentor—he’s Jenn’s crush for christsakes. And you just fucked him. 

Repeatedly. 

When you finally pull yourself out of the bathroom, the sky is still dark, and the apartment is quiet. You glance down the hall, trying to decide your best plan of action. You hesitate before you ultimately head to your bedroom. For all of your financial growth in the last couple of years, you still only have one set of sheets. Of all of the things that you made it a point to get when you moved into a newer, bigger place, bedding was never really a priority, and your late nights at the office have lessened the need further. Still, you can’t sleep in them tonight, not until you’ve washed them. You yank them off of the bed, balling them up and striding back into the hall, shoving them into the washer with an excess of laundry detergent and scent beads before turning the water setting to hot and the cycle to deep wash. 

You turn toward the kitchen next, already bracing for the sight of your discarded clothing, and the items scattered during your first frantic coupling with Nathan. You bite your lip as you come to the doorway, looking around. Cups, papers, a likely shattered BlueBook tablet. You almost want to walk away, to curl up on your bare mattress and ignore the aching in your muscles and core. But you grudgingly walk over and tidy the area, stacking them items and setting them on the counter. You take up the tablet last, wincing at the cracked screen. Yep. Bummer. You ought to expense it, just to spite him. Your lips quirk with a mean smile. Yeah, that’s what you’ll do—at least to annoy him. You’ll send him a repair invoice. Fuck it—you’ll send him an invoice for a whole new one. 

--  

“How was last night?” 

You nearly choke on your coffee at Jenn’s question, but you just manage to swallow thickly and give her a smile.

“Fine! Good,” You nod. “I think we’re close to a deal.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm. They just want to iron out some things contract-wise, but we should get the signatures just in time to onboard them next quarter.” 

“Awesome,” Jenn nods, smiling. She hesitates before adding, “Nathan said he was going to listen in on the call.” 

“He did.” 

“Did he say anything?” 

“On the call? No.” 

“Afterward?” 

“Nnn…Nope.” 

“Because a few people said that they heard arguing.”

You bite your lip. You can keep digging the hole that you’ve started, or you can come clean. 

“It wasn’t an argument, it was…A spirited discussion.” 

Halfway clean. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?” 

“Because, I know that you want me and Nathan to get along. And I know about the creepy little crush you have on Silicon Valley’s former boy-genius, so—” 

“Shut up,” Jenn whines, covering her face with her hands, “Oh my god! Am I that obvious?” 

“Probably just to me. I know you, hon. Bateman’s a smart guy, but I get the feeling that he doesn’t really get what the hair-tossing was meant to invoke last night.” 

Jenn groans again, resting her arms on her desk, and setting her head on her arms. You force a smile through the rotten feeling beginning to curdle in your gut. Jenn stays there for a moment before she lifts her head, resting her chin on her arms. 

“So I should be more upfront about my interest.” 

It’s not a question, which is concerning. 

“Jenn, I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because he’s our biggest backer, and besides you, he has the largest share of the company.” 

“It’s not a controlling interest.” 

“No, but…If things go sour, are you prepared for the business relationship to go sour?” 

“Nathan wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure? He’s, like, the king of emotional blackmail.” 

“Maybe, but this has turned out alright, right?” Jenn waves her finger between the two of you. You consider for a moment before you nod. 

“Yeah,” You agree, “So far. But you and I aren’t fucking, Jenn. And I don’t have the industry pull and capital to bring the building down if I decide that I don’t like one of us anymore.” 

Jenn pouts, dropping her gaze to the desk and drawing in a deep breath. 

“Okay,” She mumbles. 

“I’m not saying never. I just think you should consider the ramifications.” 

“Fiiiiiiine,” Jenn pushes herself to sit up. “What was the spirited argument over, anyway?” 

“Just…” You flounder. “How he operates, how I operate. We don’t see eye to eye on most things outside of the business, you know that.” 

“You seemed to be better last night. At least, you didn’t spend the evening biting each other’s heads off.” 

Your palm tingles with the memory of Nathan’s cheek against your palm; you can see the snap of his head turning at the impact, the flash of hot intrigue in his eyes. You turn your gaze down to your notes in your lap, giving a small shrug. 

“We’re getting better.” 

-- 

“Could you sign for this, please?” 

You look up from the email you’re proofreading, nodding when you see one of the people from the mail room holding a slim package. 

“Sure thing.” You stand, rounding your desk and taking the proffered signature pad, scrawling it out and then passing it back with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Have a good one.” 

"You, too."

You take the package, turning away and rounding your desk and opening it. Your brow furrows as you draw out a receipt and eye the Item Description column—

BlueBookTab - x1

Engrave

Your brows rise, a laugh escaping you. There’s no way. You only sent that invoice this morning, how the hell did Bateman get you a new one already? And engraved? You draw the tablet out of the box, turning it over in your hands and eyeing the etching: 

For two years of work

And one night of service

NB

Your jaw drops in shock, a stunned huff leaving you as you shake your head, fingers tightening around the tablet. Oh, you’re tempted to throw it at the wall just to spite him, and invoice him for another—but who knows that nasty shit he’d put on that one? 

You consider for a moment before you pitch it at the wall. It hits the floor with a satisfying thud. You pick your phone up, zooming in on the cracked tablet screen on the floor and taking a picture. You drop it into your current text thread with Nathan, sending it, along with one word: 

Whoops.

Before you can even close the text messages, you see Nathan typing on the other end. Your stomach flips as you wait. Then—

you can’t keep anything nice can you

Send me another one and let’s find out. 

did you like my little message? 

Oh, there was a message? I don’t think I saw anything 

But then, the things that you do don’t tend to leave an impression 

keep it up sweetheart 

You bite your lip, trying to fight back the smile pulling your lips. It fails when his next text pops up: 

im delivering the next one myself. make sure you don’t miss a thing.

Next part

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[bestworstcase]

At the risk of prompting yet another essay...

Is Salem the embodiment of despair? While I would be perfectly content with a succinct answer, I know better than to ask for one when it comes to sending questions your away about Salem. But given her spoken determination to snuff out the sparks of hope and her zeal to lay waste to Remnant in her pursuit of the relics, even if she somehow wished to remake the world, her methods are very "I have given up all hope and am taking everyone down with me."

the short answer (lol) is no, because salem has very particular views on hope; namely, she thinks of it in cyclical terms. first there is abject darkness, then even the smallest spark of hope ignites change, illuminating the world; then, eventually, that bright flame is exhausted and extinguished, darkness returns, and the cycle begins again. civilizations rise and fall and rise and fall.

she’s old.

note the general tone of her songs. i’ve made this point before but sacrifice is salem’s i may fall and where i may fall is bleakly hopeful, sacrifice is incandescently angry and the line between this anger and hope is very thin (“you can’t have my life/i’m not your sacrifice/you can try, but i’m free/and you won’t conquer me” <- this is salem with a spark of hope that she can free herself.)

but also:

pierce the sky, escape your fate the more you try, the more you’ll just breed hate and lies truth will rise revealed by mirrored eyes

salem very much considers ozpin to be the architect of hatred and lies, because he’s ruled by his fear and despair, and this is her fundamental reason for believing that he is doomed to failure. similarly, divide is a polemic against ozpin’s worst habits—salem largely is not describing her own methods but instead, as in her v3 soliloquy, rhetorically tearing ozpin apart; he is the one who lies, manipulates, sacrifices, sows doubt, and salem merely opportunistically takes advantage of his dysfunction.

and then the keystone is in when it falls ->

swallowed by the darkness soon the moon is bathed in black the light of hope is taken and discontent is the contagion the blinding eyes that burn a yellow flame the embers that remain will light the fuse of condemnation kingdoms in tatters hung on the brink of a war the peace will succumb to flames

which elaborates on salem’s cyclical perspective by clarifying what the absence of hope means to her; it isn’t despair or fear, it’s anger. discontent, condemnation, a fire just as the light of hope is also a fire. when the darkness becomes unbearable, salem expects humanity to get angry and fight back.

while this time isn’t her song, it is a reflection of how salem thinks far more so than it is blake or ghira, who it’s notionally about; yet still i believe that the peace/we’ll achieve’s growing closer/but first blood must spill like the wine at a feast/the calm only comes once the carnage has ceased/fight or die/there’ll be no release <- for salem this war is her only avenue to freedom, and she believes freedom is within her reach, so she commits to war and holds nothing back.

her determination to smother hope can’t really be separated from her belief that doing so will kindle rebellion—both against her (thus giving humankind a fighting chance to weather the storm) and against ozpin (thus ensuring his eventual defeat). she largely doesn’t expect or want people to lie down in despair and let her raze the world to ashes, and i think in the event her plan for dealing with the gods doesn’t work, her failsafe is “but the whole world will be united in opposition to my defiance, so the gods won’t annihilate them to punish me this time.”

[doomwitctheories]

YOU and HIM is an 18+ visual novel. Minors, refrain from interacting.

So... as an Audhder with special interest in videogames and animals, those two things may overlap once.

... or multiple times.

Just for fun, I'm using one of my favorite visual novels to gush about animals, much like a game theory episode.

Two disclaimers before we start. Even tho I'm very interested in zoology, I'm not an expert, so it's very likely I will make mistakes. Secondly, I'm not a native English speaker, so there's a chance I'll make your eyes bleed with bad grammar.

By the way, trigger warnings:

Animal mating behavior and genitalia. Predators and hunting. Carnivorous plants.

If you're uncomfortable with that, skip this post in its entirety.

Adam is a spotted hyena.

Adam is cat coded.

Cunning perceptiveness, playful taunting, antisocial behavior...

He's the human equivalent to an angry cat.

Except, this man doesn't take breaks.

Felines are carnivores focused on precision rather than resistance. Their strikes are deadly and expertly calculated, but they don't have much stamina. As a result, they generally need long periods of rest.

But this man is built like a fucking train. Adam is relentless, and he doesn't even look tired while chasing their target to the ends of the Earth.

That determination is usually attributed to canines.

Then, how come he has both the cat-like feel and the endurance of a dog?

That's when it hit me. Hyenas.

Spotted hyenas are the most dog-like members between the felines. They're tremendously intelligent, and utilize planning and deceit to get their way. Unlike other hyenas, spotted hyenas aren't scavengers, but hunters. Much like canines, they can and will hunt their preys to exhaustion.

Also, they live in matriarchal societies, which reminded me of Adam's undying love and respect for his mom (presumably).

Also! Also! (And this is specially rad). Hyenas are literally the embodiment of consent. Why? Well, female reproductive organs have evolved to look similar to their male counterparts. The advantage of this is that, to mate, female hyenas have to retract their pseudo-penis to create an opening. Which essentially means, mating literally can't occur without consent. In other words, forcing copulation is physically impossible for hyenas.

...

(cough cough *male hyenas are subs, even if they outweigh their partners* cough cough)

Who said that!? Anyway.

There you have it. Adam is a spotted hyena. I cannot unsee it, and now you can't either.

Mermay season. If Adam is a tiger shark, then Saffron is a great white shark.

For Mermay, the creator of the game posted a beautiful drawing of Adam as a tiger shark.

(Which, by the way, has a lot of similarities to a hyena, starting with the spot patterns on their tail, that look very much like the fur of a spotted hyena. Another similar characteristic is their diet. Surprisingly varied, they will go after anything, really. Much like hyenas. Both are the "predator garbage eaters" of their respective ecosystems).

But this section isn't about tiger sharks as much as it is about Saffron.

If we look at the ranking of recorded fatal shark attacks, tiger sharks are really high up, only second to the great white shark. Which is odd because, even if either encounter is extremely rare, white sharks tend to be more curious and swim near boats and surfing areas, yet tiger sharks are up there in the rank right behind them. This leads me to believe that, under the same circumstances, tiger sharks are more likely to attack you than white sharks.

I find this comparison really fitting for the dynamic Adam and Saffron present in game. While Adam is the very first predator you encounter (tiger shark: more opportunistic, less selective), he's much easier to dodge than Saffron, who's much less likely to confront you himself, despite roaming around and studying you curiously, but once he's in court, you better pray (great white shark: less opportunistic, more selective).

Appearance-wise, white sharks and Saffron are also alike. Not only cause of the albino hair, that matches the shark's white belly, but cause of their pointed snout, which is considered an elegant feature.

Their hunting style is also similar to Saffron's, generally stalking their prey from below, to later launch a surprise attack that tends to be fatal on its own. I compare this to his bad end, in which he attacks YOU from behind, leaving you completely defenseless thanks to a powerful anesthetic.

In conclusion, we have found ourselves a deadly shark duo for the next mermay. Adam the tiger shark and Saffron the great white shark.

YOU are a Venus flytrap and Adam is doomed.

In literature, the femme fatale refers to a character (not necessarily a woman) that relies on seduction to bend their victims to their will.

YOU are at a disadvantage. Your opponent is larger, stronger, faster and more experienced than you. Much like insects, they have a set of tools and freedom of movement you simply don't.

How do you survive then?

You need to turn your opponent against themselves by messing with their biology.

The traps of the Venus flytrap are covered with a delicious nectar.

One sip of this nectar, and it's over for their prey, fly or otherwise.

Even if the insect doesn't trigger the trap at first and manages to flee, they will return on their own volition.

This is due to the addictive nature of their taste, that works like a drug. As insects enjoy their meal, they get increasingly wobbly and uncoordinated.

And the more they linger, the more drunk they get, until it's only a matter of time the flytrap honors their name.

As you can see, these plants are the eco-friendly version of the femme fatale.

They beckon their meal closer, with a promise of such sweetness that makes their judgement hazy, and before they realize it they're already too deep.

I think Adam would agree this perfectly represents YOU, even if you're only acting this way to escape the serial killer.

To further resemble the first encounter between YOU and Adam, these traps don't close on impact. They have a timer. A set of sensory hairs that signal the trap to close shut if an insect brushes them twice or more in the span of 30 seconds.

Their resources are scarce, so they play the waiting game and rely on precision in order to survive, for striking without the field secured could lead to their death.

YOU need to be patient and make sure Adam is intoxicated before stabbing him the first time. YOU play with your words and remain vigilant on any opening available to make your move. YOU rely on confusion and purposefully ignite strong emotional reactions on your opponents to take advantage.

YOU play the part of a Venus flytrap, that learned to lure and manipulate in order to make it when all the odds are against them.

Pretty cool if you ask me.

It's even better, because you aren't competing against an insect, but with a human.

And humans are social creatures.

This means, attachment is a key factor of their condition, and they can't get rid of things they're attached to.

And Adam is no different.

The more time he's around YOU, the more attached he will become.

This essentially means Adam can't hurt YOU without hurting himself in the process.

Just the thought of YOU fading away has him recalling memories of his mother's passing, and we've seen the impact his nightmares have on him.

If YOU died, Adam would be physically incapable of acting normally. He would start to slip up, behave erratically or lash out. He could be potentially forced into therapy, but recovery would take precious time Saffron can't afford to lose. Not to mention the irreversible hit to their reputation.

Worst case scenario, another member of the band could be replaced. But the main singer? Impossible.

In summary, it's only a matter of time both Adam and Saffron realize hurting YOU would mean the end of CAKE, which would ultimately grant your survival.

On the downside, YOU will have to deal with Adam "hunting" you for the rest of your life. And just because you're safe, doesn't mean your friends and closed ones share the same luck.

Links:

https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/marine-science/articles/10.3389/fmars.2019.00037/full

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiger_shark

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_white_shark

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spotted_hyena

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venus_flytrap