#despite also establishing that she has a threatening domineering father

[theodore-sallis]

“Several Meaningless Deaths Part 2,” Monsters Unleashed, (Vol. 1/1973), #9.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Artists: Pat Broderick and Al Milgrom

[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 5

The grand ballroom of the opulent hotel shimmered with the soft glow of chandeliers and the murmur of polite conversation as the elite of society gathered for the annual charity gala. Distinguished guests adorned in their finest attire mingled amongst one another, their laughter and clinking glasses filling the air with an air of sophistication and elegance.

As the guests mingled and the air buzzed with polite conversation, the Rossi family made their grand entrance into the gala. Among them, Amelia stood out like a beacon of grace and elegance, her every movement exuding a quiet confidence that drew the gaze of all who beheld her.

Dressed in a stunning light green gown that hugged her curves in all the right places, Amelia glided effortlessly through the crowd, her presence commanding attention at every turn. Her father, Harold, walked by her side, a proud smile gracing his lips as he watched his daughter navigate the sea of guests with poise and grace.

Beside him, Marilyn Rossi, Amelia's mother, radiated an aura of sophistication and grace, her elegant gown shimmering in the soft light of the ballroom as she moved with effortless grace.

As Amelia weaved her way through the crowd, her eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity as she greeted each guest with genuine warmth and charm, Lando stood aside with his father, Adam, watching her with a mixture of admiration and longing.

With a glass of whisky in hand, Lando took a sip as he admired Amelia from afar, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity that belied his cool exterior. He couldn't help but marvel at the way her gown accentuated every curve of her body, the slit revealing a tantalising glimpse of smooth, tanned skin that sent a shiver of desire coursing through him.

Lost in his reverie, Lando found himself captivated by the sight of Amelia, her beauty transcending the confines of the crowded ballroom as she moved with effortless grace and elegance. And as he watched her, his heart swelled with a longing that he knew he could no longer ignore.

Amelia's presence at the gala didn't go unnoticed by George, also in attendance with his father, whose gaze was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. From across the room, he watched with a mixture of admiration and envy as she effortlessly charmed her way through the crowd, her beauty and grace captivating everyone in her orbit.

As Amelia smiled and laughed with other established individuals, her expert socialising skills on full display, George couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He had known Amelia for years, but tonight, she seemed to shine brighter than ever before, her radiance casting a spell over everyone she encountered.

Despite his best efforts to maintain a composed exterior, George found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Amelia, his heart pounding with a mixture of desire and longing. He had always admired her from afar, but tonight, as he watched her move with effortless grace and elegance, he couldn't help but feel a surge of attraction that threatened to consume him.

Steve's words cut through George's thoughts like a knife, snapping him back to reality with a jolt. He turned to his father, his brow furrowed in concern as he considered the implications of Steve's statement.

“Her father is going to kill her when he finds out what she's been doing.” Steve reiterated, his tone laced with a hint of malice.

George sighed, feeling a sense of unease settling over him at the thought of the impending confrontation. He knew firsthand how strict Harold Rossi could be, especially when it came to matters of reputation and family honour.

“Is it really necessary to do it here?” George wondered aloud, his voice tinged with apprehension.

He couldn't bear the thought of Amelia being subjected to public humiliation and embarrassment, especially not in front of the other esteemed guests. Steve shrugged dismissively, his expression cold and calculating.

“Sometimes, a little public spectacle is necessary to drive home a point.” He replied, his tone dripping with disdain.

George glanced back at Amelia, his heart aching at the thought of what awaited her once her father discovered the truth. He knew he had to find a way to warn her, to spare her from the fallout of her actions, but he also knew that time was running out.

George's heart sank as he watched Harold approach Steve, his fears of a confrontation escalating with each step his father took. Despite his best efforts to intervene, he found himself rooted to the spot, powerless to prevent the impending clash between the two patriarchs.

With a forced smile etched on his face, Harold extended his hand to Steve, exchanging pleasantries with a practised ease that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface. George held his breath, his stomach churning with anxiety as he awaited the inevitable moment when their conversation would turn to the topic of Amelia.

As the two men shook hands, George could sense the undercurrent of animosity between them, the tension palpable in the air as they exchanged polite niceties. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Steve revealed the truth about Amelia's actions, and he braced himself for the fallout that would follow.

“Gentlemen.” Harold's words cut through the tension like a knife, momentarily diffusing the palpable atmosphere between the two men.

George breathed a sigh of relief as his father exchanged pleasantries with Harold, his heart lightening at the temporary reprieve from the impending confrontation.

“Good to see you, Mr Rossi.” George added, offering a polite smile as he joined in the exchange.

“Likewise, George.” Harold nodded in acknowledgment, his expression one of forced congeniality as he replied.

But it was Steve's next words that caught everyone off guard, his tone light and jovial as he turned his attention to the topic of Amelia.

“I must say, Harold, your daughter is a force to be reckoned with.” Steve noted with a hint of provocation in his voice.

“She is. I wouldn't expect anything less from her.” Harold chuckled, a proud gleam in his eye as he responded. The tension seemed to dissipate further as Harold continued, his words laced with humour. “Did she talk you out of buying another Mercedes?”

“Not this time, Harold.” Steve replied, a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “But I must say, your daughter has quite a compelling charm. I’m sure she has you wrapped around her finger.”

Steve's words cut through the air with a hint of jest, but Harold met them with a hearty laugh, his jovial demeanour belying the tension that had been simmering just moments before.

“Ah, you're not wrong there, Steve.” Harold replied, his voice tinged with pride as he glanced fondly in Amelia's direction. “She does have a way of getting what she wants.”

George couldn't help but smile at Harold’s words, knowing all too well the truth behind them. Amelia had always possessed a magnetic charm and an uncanny ability to win people over with her charisma and grace.

As Lando's eyes fell upon George, Steve and Harold standing together, a wave of unease washed over him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, sensing the tension lingering in the air like a storm brewing on the horizon.

Determined to shield Amelia from whatever trouble may be looming, Lando made his way through the crowd, his steps purposeful yet cautious. As he approached her, he felt a surge of protectiveness welling up inside him, a fierce determination to keep her safe from harm.

With a gentle touch, Lando snaked his arm around Amelia's waist, drawing her close to him in a gesture that took her by surprise. She turned to him, her eyes widening in surprise at the sudden contact, but a warm smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she met his gaze.

“Dance with me.” He instructed, his tone firm yet playful as they moved to the rhythm of the music.

“Well, hello to you too, Lando.” She teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she matched his steps with practised ease.

As they twirled and swayed to the music, Amelia couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her in Lando's arms. Despite the uncertainty of their situation, she found solace in the familiarity of their connection, the unspoken bond that had always existed between them.

“Charles here?” Lando inquired, his voice soft as he looked into her eyes.

“He had business matters to tend to back in Monaco.” Amelia responded.replied, her tone tinged with regret. “And, Zara?”

“She had a shoot in Milan.” He explained, almost dismissive in his tone.

“Very nice. She seems to be making her way up in the world.” Amelia responded, her voice laced with fake amusement.

“Why is your father speaking with the Russells?” Lando suddenly asked, changing the subject completely.

Amelia's expression clouded slightly at Lando's question, her brows furrowing in concern as she followed his gaze to where her father stood in conversation with the Russells.

“I'm not sure.” She admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “But it can't be anything good. You don’t think they’ll tell my father?”

Amelia's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of uncertainty settling over them like a suffocating blanket. Lando could see the worry etched into her features, the lines of concern deepening with each passing moment.

“You know we can't trust them.” Lando replied, his tone grim. “They'll do whatever it takes to further their own agenda, even if it means betraying us.”

“What do we do then?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Lando's jaw tightened with determination as he met her gaze.

“Deny everything and ask for evidence.” He stated firmly. “We won't let them destroy us without a fight.”

“This has become quite messy.” She murmured, her voice tinged with resignation.

“Just trust me, okay?” Lando asked, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt.

“Of course.” Amelia replied without hesitation, her trust in him unwavering despite the storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

Feeling the weight of the looming threat, Lando pressed a gentle kiss to Amelia's cheek, a silent reassurance of his unwavering support and protection. Drawing her closer into his embrace, he held her tightly as they continued to dance, their movements synchronised in perfect harmony.

As they swayed to the music, Lando kept a watchful eye on the men standing on the opposite side of the room, his senses alert for any signs of trouble. He could feel the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment, a silent reminder of the danger that lurked just beneath the surface. But despite the looming threat, Lando refused to let fear consume him. With Amelia by his side, he felt invincible.

When Adam approached Harold, Steve, and George, Steve saw the optimal opportunity to put his plan into action.

“Adam, good. You’re here. I have some rather... interesting information to share with you.” Steve announces. Adam and Harold exchanged a curious glance, their interest piqued by Steve's cryptic words.

“Go on.” Adam prompted, his tone laced with anticipation. Steve leaned back against the wall, a smug expression crossing his features as he revelled in the attention of his esteemed peers.

“You see, it seems your dear Lando and Amelia have been engaging in some rather... illicit activities behind our backs.” Steve admitted.

Adam's heart sank at Steve's revelation, a mixture of disbelief and anger coursing through him as he struggled to process the implications of his words. He exchanged a troubled glance with Harold, their shared concern evident in their expressions as they grappled with the shock of the news.

“Are you certain?” Harold asked, his voice tinged with desperation as he searched for any sign of doubt in Steve's demeanour. Steve nodded, his smug expression unwavering as he revelled in the discomfort of his colleagues.

“Quite certain.” He replied, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “It seems your children have been playing a dangerous game, and it's high time it's put to an end. Just ask them about the cars in her showroom.”

Harold's mind raced as he considered the implications of Steve's revelation. He couldn't believe that Lando and Amelia would be involved in such activities, but the evidence presented by Steve left little room for doubt. He felt a surge of anger rising within him, a fierce protectiveness for his daughter and a determination to get to the bottom of the situation.

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Steve.” Adam replied, his voice cold and controlled despite the turmoil raging within him. “We will address this matter immediately.”

As Steve sauntered away, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips, Adam turned to Harold with a steely determination in his eyes.

“I swear, if your son has Amelia involved in something illegal…” Harold started.

“We need to find out the truth.” Adam interrupted his friend, his voice resolute. “And we need to do it quickly, before this situation spirals out of control.”

As the music swirled around them, Adam and Harold approached Lando and Amelia mid-dance, their expressions grave as they beckoned for their children to follow them to a secluded area where they could talk in private.

Lando and Amelia exchanged a worried glance, their hearts sinking at the seriousness of their fathers' demeanour. With a silent nod, they followed Adam and Harold to a quiet corner of the room, away from the prying eyes and ears of the other guests.

Once they were alone, Adam and Harold turned to their children, their expressions a mixture of concern and disappointment.

“Lando, Amelia.” Adam began, his voice heavy with emotion. “We need to talk.”

Lando and Amelia exchanged a nervous glance, their hearts pounding in their chests as they waited for their fathers to speak.

“It's come to our attention that there have been... allegations made against you.” Harold continued, his voice strained with emotion. “Allegations of illegal activities.”

Lando and Amelia's eyes widened in shock, their minds racing as they tried to make sense of the accusations levelled against them. They exchanged a worried glance, their hearts heavy with dread at the gravity of the situation.

"We need to know the truth," Adam said, his voice firm but tinged with desperation. "Are these accusations true? Have you been engaging in illegal activities?"

Lando and Amelia exchanged a silent glance, their expressions grave as they prepared to confront the truth of their actions. With a heavy sigh, Lando spoke up, his voice filled with remorse.

“No. We’re not involved in anything illegal.” Lando lied.

Adam and Harold exchanged a sceptical glance, their expressions betraying their uncertainty at Lando and Amelia's vehement denials. They could sense the tension thickening in the air as the weight of the accusations hung heavy between them.

“Amelia, speak.” Harold instructed, his tone firm but tinged with concern.

Amelia's jaw tightened with frustration, her eyes flashing with indignation as she bristled at her father's request.

“I’m slightly offended that you would think I would ever get involved in something illegal.”She snapped, her words cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Watch your tone, Amelia.” Harold warned, his voice a low growl of warning.

But Amelia pressed on, her anger fueling her defiance as she continued to defend herself and Lando against the accusations.

“I suppose it’s Steve Russell who mentioned something to you?” Amelia queried.

“Correct.” Adam nodded.

“George has always been jealous of Lando and I. He could never accept the fact that we didn’t like him, so he runs to his father and creates a false narrative. You remember what happened back in high school, when he spread those God awful rumours.” Amelia explained, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Adam and Harold exchanged a troubled glance, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place as they considered Amelia's words.

“Lando, I know you’ve done some questionable business before, but you need to assure us that you have not and will not involve Amelia in any of that.” Adam began, his voice filled with concern

“Of course not, I swear.” Lando lied, the weight of his deception heavy on his conscience. Lando met his father's gaze, his expression earnest as he spoke.

“I’ll choose to believe you, but if I find out that you’ve lied to me, Amelia, you will suffer the consequences.” Harold threatened his daughter.

Harold's words hung in the air like a dark cloud, his threat echoing with a chilling finality that sent a shiver down Amelia's spine. She swallowed hard, the weight of her father's warning settling heavily on her shoulders as she met his stern gaze with a mixture of fear and defiance.

“I understand.” She replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to maintain her composure in the face of her father's anger.

Harold's expression softened slightly at her response, his eyes betraying a hint of sadness beneath their steely exterior.

“I hope you do.” He said quietly, his voice tinged with disappointment.

With a heavy sigh, Adam shot Lando a knowing look, a silent reminder of the gravity of their situation and the consequences of their actions. Lando met his father's gaze with a solemn nod, his own guilt weighing heavily on his conscience as he prepared to face the fallout of his deception.

And with that, the fathers disappeared back into the main hall, leaving Lando and Amelia alone with their thoughts and the weight of their secrets hanging heavy in the air. As they watched their fathers depart, a sense of unease settled over them, their minds racing with the implications of Harold's threat and the uncertain future that lay ahead. Lando reached out, gently placing a hand on Amelia's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“It's okay.” He murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”

Amelia nodded, her expression still clouded with guilt as she struggled to come to terms with the weight of her deception. 

“I've never lied to my father before. At least not about something this big.” She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Lando squeezed her shoulder gently, offering her a small smile of encouragement.

“Sometimes we have to do things we never thought we'd have to do. But you have me, so you shouldn’t have to worry.” He said quietly.

Despite Amelia's outward strength and independence, Lando had always seen the vulnerable side of her that lay beneath the surface. She may have excelled in martial arts and possessed an impressive knowledge of cars, but he knew that deep down, she still craved the reassurance and comfort that came from being truly understood and accepted.

Growing up as an only child, Amelia had often felt the weight of loneliness pressing down on her, her solitude echoing in the empty spaces of her heart. But Lando had been there for her every step of the way, his presence a constant source of support and companionship in a world that often felt cold and indifferent.

He had always made sure that she never had to face her struggles alone, dragging her along to parties and introducing her to new people, determined to keep her from feeling isolated or forgotten. In those moments of shared laughter and camaraderie, Amelia had found a sense of belonging that she had never known before, her heart lightened by the warmth of Lando's friendship and the love of his family.

Despite his efforts to focus on the task at hand, Lando couldn't shake the persistent dreams that had haunted him for years. In those dreams, Amelia always appeared as an ethereal figure, her presence radiant and pure, like an angel clothed in white. She seemed too good for the troubles that surrounded them, and yet she remained steadfast by his side, her unwavering support a beacon of light in the darkness.

But even as Lando grappled with his feelings for Amelia, another complication arose in the form of Zara. She was caught in the tangled web of their lives, aware of the special connection that existed between Lando and Amelia. Despite her best efforts to ignore it, Zara couldn't help but notice the way their gazes lingered a moment too long or the way their hugs held a hint of longing.

It was a forbidden dance, one in which they were unable to express the depths of their true feelings for each other. And as Lando found himself torn between his loyalty to Amelia and his growing affection for Zara, he couldn't help but wonder if there would ever come a time when they could cast aside the shackles of their secrets and embrace the love that had always been just out of reach.

“I think I might just kill George, honestly.” Amelia grunted as they made their way towards the main venue. Lando glanced at Amelia, a mixture of concern and amusement flickering in his eyes at her blunt statement.

“As satisfying as that might be at the moment, I don't think it would solve our problems.” He replied, his voice tinged with wry humour. Amelia huffed a laugh, her frustration evident in the way she walked, her steps heavy with determination.

“Maybe not.” She conceded, her tone sharp with frustration. “But it sure would feel good.”

Lando placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, offering her a small smile of understanding. 

“I know it's frustrating, Amelia, but let's focus on getting through tonight first. We can deal with George and his family tomorrow.” He said softly. Amelia nodded, her expression softening slightly at his words.

“You're right.” She admitted, her anger beginning to subside in the face of his calming presence.

As the charity gala unfolded around them, Lando stayed close to Amelia's side, his presence a reassuring warmth against the backdrop of the elegant ballroom. They moved together on the dance floor, their steps perfectly synchronised as they swayed to the rhythm of the music. Lando's hand rested gently on the small of Amelia's back, guiding her with a gentle touch that spoke volumes of his care for her.

In between dances, they found a quiet corner where they could steal a moment alone. Lando brushed a stray lock of hair away from Amelia's face, his touch feather-light against her cheek as he gazed at her with affection. They shared stories and laughter, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they revelled in each other's company.

As they made their way to the buffet table, Lando's hand found hers, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent gesture of solidarity. He watched with adoration as Amelia's eyes lit up with delight at the sight of her favourite dishes, his heart swelling with love at the simple joy she found in the little things.

Throughout the evening, Lando remained attuned to Amelia's needs, offering her a comforting arm when she grew tired and a supportive shoulder when she needed someone to lean on. And as the night drew to a close, they found themselves reluctant to part ways.

“Just come home with me.” Lando suggested as they made their way out of the lavish hotel.

“I can’t.” Amelia whispered, not meeting his eye.

“I don’t want you going home alone and dealing with your father.” Lando explained.

“Lan, I have work in the morning.” She argued, finally glancing up at him.

“Then I will take you to work.” He countered, ever resilient in his pursuits.

“Lan.” She mumbled as he started leading her to his parked McLaren.

As Lando led her towards the sleek, powerful McLaren, a rush of emotions flooded Amelia's mind. It felt surreal, almost like a dream, to have Lando pleading with her to come home with him. The memories of their past encounters flickered through her mind like a reel of film, each moment etched in vivid detail.

Their first time together, the raw passion and intensity of their connection, still lingered in her memory. She could almost feel the heat of his touch, the electric thrill of their bodies moving as one in the backseat of his Rolls Royce.

And then there was that unforgettable night in the kitchen, when they were both overcome with desire and couldn't resist each other any longer. The sound of their breathless moans echoed in her ears as they lost themselves in each other's arms, the sensation of his lips on her skin still sending shivers down her spine.

But then, inexplicably, it had all stopped. The intimacy between them faded away, leaving behind a gaping void that Amelia struggled to fill. In the midst of her day-to-day life, she found herself consumed by thoughts of Lando, her body responding instinctively to the mere memory of his touch.

On those days when the longing became too much to bear, she sought solace in the arms of Charles, her body craving the release that only he could provide. But even in those moments of pleasure, it was Lando's name that echoed in her mind, his image filling her thoughts as she surrendered to the fantasy of what could have been.

As they reached the McLaren and Lando opened the door for her, Amelia felt a rush of anticipation course through her veins. She would allow herself to indulge in the fantasy, to lose herself in the intoxicating allure of Lando's embrace. And as they drove off into the night, she knew that for just a few precious hours, she would be able to forget about the uncertainties of tomorrow and simply revel in the ecstasy of the present moment.

[agent-cupcake]

As a resident Claudefucker, I know am curious to know what our fave charming schemer is doing during this Mafia!AU. He'd look lovely in a suit.

~It was quite the headline when Godfrey Riegan died. The details are a little hazy, a little convenient, but people don't talk about that sort of thing. Car accidents are common. Tragic, but not unreasonable. There’s no reason to smear a man’s perfectly respectable political career for the sake of some sensational gossip.

~In the right circles, however, there was a huge uproar, questions about who was going to take over the Riegan family when the elderly boss Oswald died. The Riegan’s had been dominating Leicester for quite some time, but a lot of people began to predict that the Gloucester family was going to move in. They had powerful friends, it seemed. Friends with money, no less.

~Claude Riegan, grandson of Oswald, appeared out of nowhere just when he was needed. Stories of the lost daughter Tiana still circulated, sure, but there were still a lot of questions about Claude’s origins when nobody except Oswald were able to vouch for him. He obviously had military leadership experience—his skill with guns and ability to lead was just too excellent for any other explanation—but he dismissed the question out of hand. There’s no documentation of him, either, leading some to wonder if even his name was false. But Oswald said he was family, and that was that.

~Claude was quick to establish himself, in any case. Despite his cavalier attitude, his efficacy in overhauling the power dynamics of Leicester were profound.  

~He decided, first and foremost, that the way to win the people over was to invigorate the local culture, which had seen a sharp decline as a result of new laws that were unfavorable to business, Adrestia’s growing market monopolies, and the bad reputation of the red light district Ailell. This included some perfectly legitimate campaigning and some under the table type schemes. 

~The result was a flourishing Derdriu Street. While it lacks the prestige of Enbarr Square in Adrestia, it welcomes entertainment that would be considered too “low brow” like comedy, trendy new restaurants, and music venues. Even better, all of it is built on the recently cleaned up river. The Riegan family is involved in all of  it, of course. 

~Casino owner Claude. This exists solely to thirst but maybe it was preexisting and he took it over due to its poor management? If there’s going to be gambling anyway, it should be done right. The extra money’s not so bad, either. But, Claude lounging in a big leather chair in a dark blue blazer with gold brocade, his white shirt unbuttoned low enough to see enough his chest. Enough to make you drool. Enough that you’d definitely get caught staring and probably called out for it because he can’t help himself. Claude with his elbows on the arm rests and fingers folded in front of him as he considers you, gold rings winking because he’s just that ostentatious and appearances are important. Claude asking you how you feel about taking risks in a way that really feels like it has nothing to do with cards, staring at you with a friendly smile that doesn’t meet those calculating eyes—eyes that you know will pick up on every tell. 

~Claude also struck a deal with the Kupala Distillery. They’d been fighting to keep hold of their historic business for years, and Claude offered to help them with that. You know, not for free, but he’s good at making deals that leave everybody happy. 

~The second biggest thing he tackled was the drug trade. For the most part, no one family had ever had a complete handle on that market. The Goneril’s had a hold over the docks for years, but the Edmunds had been moving in and working with the Gloucester family to bolster their power. Distribution was scattered and hard to keep track of as it ultimately circulated wherever there was a profit to be made. Looking at it like this, Claude decided that the only way to fix things was to take control over all of it. In his line of work, shady things like the drug trade are impossible to avoid. At the very least, if he has control over it, he can ensure the product is clean and expel far more unsavory ventures.

~Through these escapades, Claude was able to make alliances with all of the major families. A lot of them had only remained loyal to the Gloucester family out of fear so as soon as they had an alternative, they bolted. This has an unfortunate side effect of revealing how his power is perceived. Every day is a balancing act for Claude. He allows each family to function as they please as long as they’re aware they do so at his mercy. It’s better to keep friends than to control enemies, but even that requires a delicate maneuvering of power.

~However, Claude likes the conflict. He enjoys the game and he especially enjoys winning the game. There’s a certain level of his excusing amorality for the sake of his family and Leicester, but there’s an equal part of him that understands his wrongdoings and deals with it separately. He wouldn’t hold to the naïve “ends justify the means” idea to excuse himself, but he would still argue that his actions have value and are even necessary. If it weren’t him, it would be somebody a lot worse than him. That’s probably something that would linger in the back of everybody’s minds whenever they shook his hand or paid their respects, whenever they began to think of how easy it would be to take him out. Fear, too. So far, Claude’s never done anything shockingly bad, only what was necessary. But with his power and intellect, it’s always a question of what he could do.

~If someone asked him that, Claude would smile that friendly smile and tell them that he would do anything to see his vision made real. Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen. 

~Luckily, Claude’s not alone! Hilda is the stereotypical crime family princess. She joined Claude because he offered her freedom from the overbearing control of her father and brother. Her skill in manipulating everybody around her combined with her reputation as a ditzy rich girl makes her fantastic at gathering information, assuming Claude can get her to do so. But, as long as he’s not being too forceful, she’s surprisingly motivated to weave her way through social circles and charm everyone. Although she would never say it, the order he brought to Leicester, not to mention the entertainment, made everything a lot better for her and her family. Plus, she likes being useful after spending her entire life watching Holst give his heart and soul to family while she did nothing. Ultimately, the information she provides is essential and her relationship with Claude is one of the few either have that’s built on trust, respect, and loyalty. That said, sometimes even Claude gets a little shiver as he watches how easily Hilda can manipulate people.  

~Lorenz was one of Claude’s most disdainful detractors, although a part of that was jealousy. Claude just swept in and did things that Lorenz had been waiting and planning to do once he became the head of the Gloucester family. Even after being on the receiving ends of such vicious attacks, once Claude undeniably had the upper hand in Leicester, he went behind the Gloucester boss’s back to Lorenz and told him that they were going to be friends or enemies, it was Lorenz’s choice. Not threatening him, just pointing out that the fall of the Gloucester family was inevitable under his father’s leadership and that Lorenz didn’t have to suffer for his father’s sins. Probably over mimosas and brunch. Lorenz is proud and has no appreciation for Claude, but he’s not stupid. After they worked out their disagreements and more or less accepted each other, Lorenz and Claude became pretty close. Claude knows that having someone to openly and aggressively disagree with him isn’t a bad thing. Not only that, but Lorenz’s a solid ally with a better grasp on some of the things Claude has difficulty with due to not being a native. Lorenz is willing to admit that Claude is a good leader.

~Marianne is well educated in the realm of the law and political action. The reason the Edmund family saw such success despite their lesser status was because of her adopted father’s genius. which he made sure to share with Marianne. She is invaluable in aiding Claude on the perfectly legitimate side of his business, and helping him hide his tracks for the shady stuff. Raphael is the muscle. Lysithea is a computer genius. Being a sickly shut in with issues that only recently saw treatment, she’s on the Mr. Robot level of hacker mode activated. Ignatz is an architect which is useful since so much of Claude’s power is in the property and infrastructure. He also designed a lot of places to have some neat-o hidey holes. Claude loves buildings that have secrets. Leonie is manages a lot of the physical and pettier side of the work. If someone’s stirring up trouble, she’s likely to pay them a visit as a warning before Claude has to get involved. She used to be a mercenary but being on Claude’s payroll is a lot better of a gig.    

~As for the suits, one thing is very important. Claude would not, under any circumstances, wear something tight on his thighs. I actually kind of like the idea of him going for a 1980′s style modernized. In his post timeskip outfit, he’s already got a hint of that going on with how oversized his outfit looks. The 80′s (rightfully) gets a bad rep for fashion, but it’s also very iconic with those wide-collared suit jackets, matchy-matchy three piece suits, sportscoats with a fun patterned shirt underneath, open blazers, pleated pants with an oversized jacket, and—in particular—the trend of summer suits in shades of tan and cream with colored shirts underneath. Then, combine that with a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators and a topless convertible and you’ve got a distinctly recognizable mob boss who doubles as a devastating heartthrob. I’m not saying he’d do a 1:1 recreation, but you’d definitely see references to the fashion of the era in his outfits. He would wear oxfords or ankle boots. Whatever it was, they’d have to be comfortable. He also doesn’t shy away from jewelry. The earring, of course, and rings when he's feeling particularly decadent. When he’s wearing his shirts unbuttoned Claude could possibly wear a gold chain. I mean, what are you gonna say, no? That gold doesn’t look gorgeous against his skin? That it’s tacky? You’re talking to the man who wore quilted pants. Claude’s not afraid to stand out because he knows he will anyway, nor is he afraid to be seen as unfashionable because he doesn’t particularly care about trends. I also enjoy the idea of him emulating the 80′s as someone who didn’t grow up in a western culture and thus mainly saw things through the lens of movies. Whatever he wears, however, he would look very handsome.

[lesbianrobin]

hey guys it's me again back on my bullshit <3 wanna hear my theory about how tommy created king steve? warning it’s like 2800 words long okay let's go!

So, at first glance in S1, the Steve and Tommy dynamic seems somewhat obvious: King Steve and his loyal sidekick. This post is me arguing that the only reason we really have this perception is because Steve is the more attractive of the pair (no hate to Chester Rushing, he’s very cute, but. Joe Keery) and because Tommy himself encouraged it. Tommy was actually the more “dominant” partner in the duo. I believe that it was Tommy who encouraged Steve to lean into the “King Steve” persona and who encouraged belief in this persona among their classmates, all for his own benefit.

Before we can really get into it, I have to establish something about Steve’s character, specifically that he bases his self-worth and self-image almost entirely on what others say and think about him. I’m basing this assumption off of a few key moments in the series, but I don’t want this to be insanely long so I’ll try to focus on season two where this trait is most evident.

At the Halloween party, Nancy tells Steve that they killed Barb and that their “love” is bullshit, and then later outside of the gym she insists that he isn’t being fair or reasonable in his anger with her. The next day Steve shows up to her house with roses, rehearsing an apology (”I’m sorry... what am I sorry for?) even though he doesn’t feel that he’s done anything wrong. That’s important: apologizing even though he doesn’t actually believe or understand his feelings and actions to be wrong. He’s trusting Nancy’s perception that he’s been unreasonable above his own hurt feelings and his own perception that he’s done nothing he needs to apologize for. Then, at the end of the season, he tells Nancy that he may have been a shitty boyfriend, but he’s a pretty damn good babysitter. 

Sometime between going to the Wheelers’ house with flowers to apologize and talking to Nancy at the Byers’, Steve did a pretty serious 180 from “What the hell am I sorry for, what did I even do wrong” to “I was a shitty boyfriend and you should go be with Jonathan.” The last time he interacted with Nancy was prior to the flower incident, so what happened to cause this shift in perspective? I’d like to suggest... that nothing happened! 

See, Steve is on a pretty linear emotional path in S2 after the Halloween party. At first, he’s so upset that he can’t even look at Nancy, asking Jonathan to take her home. The next day he avoids her until she confronts him, at which point he’s rather confident in his own feelings that Nancy has hurt him and doesn’t love him like she should. As time goes on, though, he loses confidence in his feelings. He buys her flowers to apologize. He isn’t remotely angry with Nancy or Jonathan once they show up together and it’s pretty clear that something’s going on between them. Finally, he calls himself a shitty boyfriend. I think that the more time passes, the less Steve believes in himself, and the more he tends to default to believing others despite his own feelings. As the anger fades, he questions himself, and since he loves and trusts Nancy, he’s inclined to believe her! Since she doesn’t love him, he must have done something wrong. Because Nancy doesn’t love him, because she wants Jonathan, because their relationship was “bullshit,” he now believes he must have been a shitty boyfriend.

Sidenote, in S3 he says a lot of shit about how he’s a loser with no future, and the way he says it indicates (to me) that it’s something he hears quite often, likely from his father. Even though it’s pretty normal to be working minimum wage the summer after you graduate high school and not have things figured out yet, even though he’s literally helped save his friends’ lives, perhaps even helped save the whole town, Steve has internalized the idea that he’s a total failure at the ripe old age of 18 (19?) and I can’t help but think that it’s because his father has told him. So. Also in S3, he says his hair is his greatest feature, and apparently people literally call him Steve “the Hair” Harrington so like, maybe he just knows he has really good hair, but he ALSO might be responding to the nickname by saying like, “Oh, okay, the hair is Objectively my best feature, okay.” Just a little bit of speculation!

I know this is a lot of my own personal opinions and speculation, but if you can get behind it, let’s keep going! If Steve is someone whose every belief about himself is a direct response to the words and feelings of those around him, if he places the opinions of others above his own feelings, it would logically follow that he might be easily emotionally manipulated.

So, let’s apply this lens to his friendship with Tommy!

Let’s run down the list. Steve cleans up after Tommy, making excuses for his shitty behavior, even wordlessly giving Carol his own food at lunch after Tommy ruined hers. He allows Tommy and Carol to have sex in his mom’s bed, and as indicated by their familiarity with the bedroom and knowledge of where the spare sheets are, this is a regular occurrence. He’s also always seen driving the two of them around. 

Neither Tommy nor Carol is ever really seen doing anything kind for Steve. They tease his girlfriend, then later use his heartbreak as an excuse to graffiti some shit and make cruel jokes about Nancy and Jonathan. That’s just not the behavior of a couple hangers-on to the most popular kid in school! Neither of them ever even pretend to give a shit about Steve. It seems that Tommy and Carol were very comfortable using Steve for his big empty house and his nice car and his popularity at school because they’d been using him for years at that point, and they thought there was no way he’d ever ditch them.

I think it’s generally accepted among fans that Steve and Tommy have been close friends for years. Tommy’s familiar with Steve’s father’s infidelity, and is comfortable enough to joke and laugh about it with Steve. The two of them just... operate like people who’ve existed around each other for a long time. So, if we accept that Steve and Tommy have been friends for awhile, we can then accept three things: the two of them know each other very well, Tommy is used to having fun at Steve’s expense, and Steve is used to allowing it.

When Steve does finally stand up to Tommy and Carol, Tommy turns on him immediately. It’s an incredibly fast turn. He shoves Steve up against his car, physically threatens him, and proceeds to taunt him angrily even as he’s driving away. Specifically he yells, “That’s it, run away Stevie boy, run away! Just like you always do,” and continues to shout variations on this phrase even after Steve’s driven far enough that Tommy’s only yelling to himself. The fact that Tommy keeps shouting after Steve can’t hear him indicates that he is genuinely very upset by Steve’s standing up against him and Carol. His fury, however, as indicated by the speed with which he turned on Steve, seems to be less like that of one who feels betrayed by a friend and more like one angry at some perceived loss or threat. 

Now, let me just state the obvious: that was a really weird thing for Tommy to be yelling!

There’s no real precedent at this point (or any time) in the show for Steve “running away,” unless you count him running from the cops, which... Tommy also did, and which also happened, like, ten minutes ago, which I don’t think would really qualify for the wording “like you always do.” Tommy also suddenly calls him “Stevie boy,” which (correct me if I’m wrong) nobody has called Steve thus far. Maybe he’s just trying to mock and belittle Steve in any way he can think of, but it’s just... weirdly specific. The whole thing is a bit of a non-sequitur.

But! Remember how we established that Steve and Tommy, by virtue of having been friends for a significant period of time, know each other pretty well? Remember how Tommy is knowledgeable about Steve’s father’s infidelity, so familiar that he’s comfortable joking about it? Keep that in mind.

This phrase that Tommy shouts at Steve only makes sense in the context of some offscreen information that we the viewer are not privy to, but which Tommy and Steve are. What might that information be? Nothing in the show indicates that Steve has a history of picking fights prior to the incident with Jonathan. He’s a fairly respectable suburban kid, what is Tommy accusing him of running from? It’s my opinion that the only logical answer is that Tommy’s referencing a specific event with Steve’s “asshole” father, or a specific phrase that Steve has perhaps often heard from his father. I’m gonna ask you to sit on this assumption for a minute, and I’ll come back and support it soon.

Okay, so that’s S1 out of the way. At this point, a few things are clear: Steve has issues with his dad. Tommy knows about those issues. Steve allowed himself to be used by Tommy and Carol for some indeterminate yet significant amount of time before finally snapping and dumping them completely, something which infuriates Tommy.

Tommy is also in S2! And... all he does is tell Steve that Nancy and Jonathan are skipping school together. He never actually interacts with Nancy or Jonathan; he shows up in S2 entirely to mock Steve, to use his deepest fears and insecurities against him. 

First thing: in the S2 shower scene after basketball practice, Tommy makes it a point to shove Jonathan and Nancy’s relationship in Steve’s face. Billy doesn’t know Steve, so he attacks his basketball skills and his keg stand record, but Tommy? Tommy knows about Steve’s dad cheating on his mom, he was there for the S1 fistfight, he knows how monumental infidelity is to Steve, especially in the case of Nancy and Jonathan, and so that is what he chooses to torment Steve with, and it clearly strikes a nerve. 

Now’s where I circle back to my assertion that Tommy was referencing/quoting Steve’s father while yelling at him back in S1. S2 makes it clear that Tommy  knows Steve’s biggest insecurities, and he intentionally exploits them for his own purposes. This, combined with the way Tommy demonstrates intimate knowledge of Steve’s family situation and the fact that his words just don’t quite make sense in context, the fact that “Stevie boy” sounds like something a father may call his young son, makes me believe that at some point, Steve told Tommy about something his dad said that hurt him, and Tommy remembered that to use against him later. 

This paragraph is just speculation on what Tommy might be referring to, so skip if you want, it’s entirely my own opinion. We know that Steve’s parents sleep in separate bedrooms and his father can’t be trusted not to cheat, and thus we might assume that they argue a lot. Maybe his parents get into lots of arguments, and whenever Steve chooses to remove himself from the situation, he’s accused of running away. Maybe Steve runs off whenever he gets in trouble with his father. There’s a lot of possibilities, but either way, “run away, Stevie boy, run away just like you always do” just... sounds too personal and specific to be something random and meaningless that Tommy came up with on the spot.

Now, in S2, Tommy also appears to have latched onto Billy rather quickly after Billy’s arrival in town. Coincidentally, Billy is kind of obsessed with Steve and taking him down, despite the fact that Steve never sought him out or challenged him in any way. Steve has been minding his own business! When they later end up in a fistfight, Billy says that he’s “been dying to meet this King Steve” that people have been telling him about, and I can’t help but think... who would make it their priority to talk to Billy about Steve Harrington? Like, new guy from California moves to my small Indiana town, I don’t want to tell him about some popular guy at school who’s gotten kinda lame and quiet lately, I want to ask him about himself, or tell him what we do for fun around here, right? So who might be incentivized to talk Steve up to a guy who’s clearly itching for a fight, a guy dying to prove that he’s top dog? Who did we see hanging out with Billy a couple of times?

Did you say Tommy? Because it’s Tommy! It certainly seems to me as though Tommy saw an opportunity in Billy. The opportunity to befriend someone with a certain social power (much like with Steve), but also the opportunity to torment or get back at Steve in some way. I think that Tommy intentionally inflated the character of “King Steve” to Billy in the hopes that Billy would pick a fight with Steve and Steve would get his ass kicked without Tommy having to get his hands dirty.

Which makes me wonder... what if Tommy played up that King Steve image to people besides Billy? Other kids at Hawkins High... or perhaps Steve himself. Remember how Steve internalizes things? Believes that he must be whatever others see in him? Yeah.

Let’s say you’re an asshole teenage boy who wants it all. You want to be popular. You want to have a spot to hang out with your girlfriend with no parents around. You want to feel strong and powerful. You meet a kid who could give you all of that, and all he wants in return is friendship. He doesn’t even seem to care if that friendship is genuine or not! All you have to do is hang around and make him feel like a cool kid. Convince him to throw a small party, you and your girlfriend get free reign of his nice big house. Make sure he knows that he’s got Prom King potential, that he’s the top dog, and you get to be one of the popular guys, too. It’s a pretty sweet deal if you can recognize the opportunity for what it is.

One last thing: Actual Steve is nothing like he seems around Tommy and Carol in the start of S1. Making friends with Dustin and coming up with a goofy handshake, singing to cheer Robin up in S3, singing into the bat to try and cheer Nancy up in S1, holding her hand during their first time, unabashedly telling her she’s beautiful and that he missed her even if only an hour had passed... Steve is a very emotional, dorky guy, and we never really got to see that side of him when he was around Tommy. I just find that interesting in light of the fact that Steve and Tommy seem to be otherwise rather close. Steve was clearly playing a part to some degree while around them, and in S3 he explicitly says that he behaved the way he did in high school because he was concerned about what others would think of him, about losing his popularity. Even prior to their argument, Steve was wary around Tommy, concerned about losing his friendship despite the fact that Tommy was a pretty objectively shitty friend.

So, here’s what we know. Tommy knows a lot about Steve, including his private family issues, and he isn’t above using that knowledge to hurt or manipulate Steve. In fact, he seems to be really good at it. Tommy benefitted from Steve’s popularity, from him throwing parties and living up to the “King Steve” image. Steve followed Tommy’s lead in their friendship, cleaned up after him, made excuses for him, and let him get away with just about anything. He masked aspects of his personality that didn’t fit the image that he and Tommy aimed for. He was desperate to retain Tommy’s friendship and afraid of letting the mask fall. Tommy was furious when Steve rejected him, taunted Steve with deeply personal jabs, and a year later he latched onto the new “top dog” in town with record speed. Steve is a completely different person when he’s around Tommy versus when he’s around Nancy, Robin, and the kids. Most importantly, we know that Steve has a tendency to construct himself in the image provided by others. 

Taking all of this into account, I think that Tommy Hagan met sad, rich, handsome little Steve Harrington, saw just how lonely and desperate he was to feel a sense of belonging, and used that to nudge Steve into striving to be the person that Tommy wanted him to be: King Steve. 

[huearmy]

The Smell of Truth - V

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 6971

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: None.

Chapter I  Chapter II  Chapter III  Chapter IV - Chapter VI ChapterVII

The four of you walked a few blocks to a restaurant on the same street. Despite the cold air, the sun was warm and pleasant, so Jimin really wanted to sit at one of the outdoor tables, and nobody objected. You and the cat were still talking about work, Taehyung making comments here and there, but Jungkook only walked in silence beside you, holding your hand, happy he was finally having some contact with you. He wasn't even paying attention to the conversation until he sitted down at the table but you didn't.

"We're gonna order and pay. It won't take long." You told him. "Do you want anything specific?"

"Cake?" He softly smiled.

"I'll buy you a big slice. I'll be back." You said already going.

"Ok!"

Only then he noticed that he didn't stay alone. Jimin was sitting by his side, eyeing him sharply, vertical pupils almost disappearing, he was analyzing Jungkook. It is not the first time that another hybrid looks at him like that, and whenever that happened in the past, uncomfortable things happened next. Jungkook sat back in his chair trying to create space between them.

"So..." Jimin purred, dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. "How did you end up as Y/N's roommate?"

"I asked!" Jungkook spitted out. "I told her I want to be with her... I-I don't know why she wanted me neither... I..."

Jungkook kind of choked on his own saliva. So far Jimin seemed to be just cute, but of course away from you, he was going to try to establish some dominance over the new hybrid. Jungkook should have imagined this was going to happen. Even so, the cold tone that came from the other caught him off guard.

"Y/N have always liked hybrids... But not that much." In the absence of an answer, Jimin continued. Clear jealousy in his voice. "What did you do to make her let you in?"

Jimin gave an unbelieving laugh, tapping Jungkook's shoulder.

"It's okay! No need to be so nervous. I'm sorry I scared you." He said not in full cute mode yet. "I just really care about Y/N... She is my favorite human besides Taehyung. So until I get to know you for real, I'll keep an eye on you. For Y/N sake."

Jungkook gave Jimin his doe eyes and nervous bite bottom lip, and the cat had to work hard not to drop hard stare away and end up losing the threatening effect.

"Ok." Jungkook said with conviction "I will do my best to have you trust me."

Jungkook got bright red again, for real. One thing is you calling him cute, another completely different thing is a strange calling him cute. He formulated something to say to change the focus a little bit.

Jimin couldn't help himself any longer and smiled brightly, his eyes fading into two moons again.

"Awn you cute!"

"How did you meet her?"

Jimin is an egocentric cat, talking about his story with you made him happy, he was actually hoping Jungkook would ask.

"Ah... She and Taehyung are childhood friends. His father worked for her mother. I'm Tae's family cat. We have known each other since we were ten and she was eight I guess. In the beginning Y/N  treated me better than everyone, even him. I was never a pet to her, and she taught Tae to see me as a brother. Now I live with just him and my life is almost perfect."

If Jungkook was feeling like an intruder before, now it was definitely worse. From their table he could see you and Taehyung on the line, and the two of you really looked like he thinks what childhood friends must look like. You were arm in arm, and he couldn't tell what he was saying to you, but you were laughing with such pleasure that your whole body seemed to smile with you. You slapped Taehyung's shoulder, looking around with a red face, and then leaned your head on him in embarrassment. In the short time that Jungkook has known you, this is the moment when he saw you more relaxed. He could see how safe you feel with these guys.

He was left out, wasn't he?   

Jungkook raised his hands to cover his ears reflexively.

"Y/N said you are a pitbull, that's right?" Jimin continued the conversation, as if he hadn't noticed where Jungkook was looking, and the sad face the boy made.

Jungkook doesn't like this question. In fact, he doesn't like to touch the subject of breed, because it involves a lot of prejudice. People usually change the way they act with him after they learn what his animal half is.

When Jungkook just nodded in response, Jimin continued.

"You really look like one, you are a muscle tower with a cute face." Jimin laughed. "But your ears aren't clipped, which is nice."

"I didn't let them..." His voice escaped quietly.

Jimin's eyes got round as he realized that he touched on a sensitive subject. It was his turn to trying to change the focus to lighting up the conversation.

"I'm a lynx!" Jimin pointed to his own extra pointed ears. "That's why I have a short tail, and the color of my fur changes with the seasons. But there are people who don't notice right away, because we usually have big hands and feet, but I have baby hands."

 A long second went by, the four of you - uncomfortably - looking at each other.

Jungkook let out a cute laugh looking at Jimin's cute hands extended to him. Both of them gave up on trying to continue a conversation.

Yours and Taehyung's voices got closer as you passed through the glass doors, leaving the restaurant's internal lounge. You found Jungkook and Jimin in awkward silence, so dense it made you and Tae shut up, exchanging confused looks.

"What happened?" Taehyung mouthed to you behind his hand.

You shrugged, eyebrows high.

"The food will be here in a few minutes!" Tae cheered, pulling the chair for you to sit before doing the same for himself. Since no one responded in the same excitement, he cleared his throat and continued the conversation he was having with you before. "Anyway, Y/N... You should see the doctor."

Jungkook and Jimin's eyes widened.

"You said it was ok. I thought you already went to the hospital..." He whined, crossing his arms, feeling betrayed

"Why do you need to see the doctor?" Jimin went faster to the point.

"She hurted her wrist and didn't get it examined." Taehyung exposed you with a pout as you showed your bandaged hand to the cat.

Jimin was pouting at you too... Angry pouting.

The two of them kept raining down arguments that an injury if left untreated can have complications, that they love you too much to see you suffer in the future, and that you should simply listen because they are older than you, and therefore, you owe respect and gratitude when they try to take care of you. They don't even let you talk. 

"If I go to the hospital they'll tell me to make a cold compress, take pain medication, use athlete's ointment, immobilize and don't use my hand in excess. I'm already doing these things." You calmly said, as what they are saying wasn't a big deal, and in your head it really wasn't.

"And what if it is a serious injury?" Jimin took your hand in his as if he could heal you himself. Your indifferent expression melted a little when he planted a kiss on the knots of your hand.

"I already said it to her, but she don't listen!" Tae was outraged.

"Guuuuuys" You were the one whining this time.

"Don't 'guuuuuys' me Y/N" Jimin rolled his eyes. "After we have lunch, Tae will drive you to the hospital."

"I think they are right, Y/N." Jungkook timidly interrupted the staring contest you and Jimin were having. "You should see the doctor."

"What now? Besides being forced to go to the doctor, can I not even drive there?" You ask, with your own piece of drama.

"Exactly." Jimin said firmly.

You were ready to fight your right to just stay home with your work and deadlines, treating your injury the way you know it is best without having to waste time with professional help. After all, you know all the best strategies to beat your best friends in an argument, which work eight out of ten times you try it.

Jungkook was still feeling guilty for hurting you, and the idea of the injury not healing right just terrified him. Also, now he knew your friends he felt the heaviest guilt on his shoulders, if they found out that it was he who hurt you, even if by accident, would they forgive him like you did? Would they still be so nice? Jungkook was sure they wouldn't. And looking at him across the table, you could read all these things on his forehead.

"You said it would heal faster if you treat it right. So please do it." Jungkook said, biting his bottom lip.

"Ok." You sighed, more worried with him than your wrist at all. "Happy?"

"Yes!" Jimin hugged you, and then Jungkook, taking him by surprise.

"Get in loser, we're going to the hospital." He said to you with a mischievous smile.

The waitress brought the food, and the conversation changed course.

___________________________________________________________________________________

With full bellies you got back to your building. Jimin said bye and went to the office to get back to work. You and Jungkook followed Taehyung to his red convertible, which was parked across the busy street. With the roof off - as almost always, Tae likes the wind in his hair - he jumped in without opening the door, and put his glasses on.   

"Loser?" Jungkook looked at him, confused. Clearly he is not used to playful bittering.

You sighed.

"Don't mind him, JK." You opened the door to him, and also entered shortly thereafter. "Don't Regina George me, Tae. I'm being forced to go, so I'm in a bad mood."

Tae smiled, turning on some music and starting the motor. And of course he took the longer way to the hospital to just enjoy the view. After all, what is the fun of going for a ride with friends in a convertible, if it's time for light traffic, and it will only last a few minutes. Going around the city, passing through the park and the historic area is pretty nicer - and the city is small anyway.

Besides the ride clearly affected your mood for the better - you are not a difficult person to please - and Taehyung found it amusing to watch Jungkook through the rearview mirror. The dog was having the time of his life, with the interesting view and the wind in his face. If you hadn't told him to put on the safety seat, you would expect him to be standing on the back seat.

As you passed by the side of the municipal park, with the lake shining in the middle, people running, walking their dogs, having picnics, playing with children, Jungkook's eyes shone with curiosity. It was so beautiful.

"It has plenty of space to run..."

"What is here?" He asked, tapping your shoulder and pointing.

"The park. We can come here sometime if you want."

"Do you like to run?" Tae asked, looking over his shoulder, his glasses on the tip of his nose.

"So we'll come next Sunday. Jimin can try to cook something and we have a picnic. You also need to sunbathe, Y/N." Taehyung determined without wanting to know your opinion, knowing that you'll just accept and prepare something else delicious for them to eat on sunday.

Jungkook nodded with his smile so wide.

"Mostly outdoors." He said dreamily.

Few minutes after you left, Taehyung suddenly stood up.

"Shut up and tell me what you want me to cook." You laughed, and looked to Jungkook. "Excited?"

"Yes."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

At the hospital you got an appointment with an orthopedist - Taehyung made you to, and Jungkook just agreed - even if you knew it wasn't needed, that a general practitioner would solve the problem, and would also release you earlier to go back to work.

After ten minutes of waiting in silence, your name was called by the doctor, you quietly got up leaving the two boys alone in the empty waiting room. The woman at the desk didn't look at them once, the sound of computer keys coming from her direction. One of the walls of the room was made of glass, with a view of an internal garden, and in the corner of the room there was a small water source beside the magazine holder. Apart from the sound of the water and the woman's typing, no sound gave any sign of life in the place, all very quiet, so quiet that Jungkook was afraid to make any noise. He was getting sleepy. 

"I need to pee." He said, already heading towards the corridor.

"Are we going home now?" Jungkook asked too eagerly.   

"Will you leave me here alone?" Jungkook loudly whispered, still afraid of breaking the silence.

Tae looked at him, confused.

"Do you want to come along? Need to pee too?"

"No..."

"I asked him to not let you alone... Well I guess he won't take too long. Wait here, ok?" You said this last part in a kind tone. He just nodded. "I swear that going with me is even more boring than waiting here."

"No, I have to do an x-ray. Where's Taehyung?"

"I know. I've had x-rays a few times before." He relaxed in the chair, your presence being enough for him to feel safe and free from paranoia.   

You tried not to think too much about the idea that Jungkook had to undergo medical procedures in the past, to not have to think about the causes of it, so you smiled and walked down the same corridor as Taehyung, looking for the elevator.

Before Jungkook could feel sad for being alone again, you got back in fast steps.

"Here..." You held out some money to him. "There's a snack machine in that direction, soda and coffee. If you want something, just go get it... Just wait for Tae to come back. Ok?"

And then you ran to take the elevator that finally opened with a 'ding'. 

Jungkook couldn't help himself but think you are cute being so attentious like this, taking care of him the way he always dreamed someone would do. Less paranoid than before, he released all the air from his lungs and got up to change of chair, to sit closer to the glass wall, where the sun was shining. Since he had to wait, at least wait absorbing some vitamin D. 

He was looking at the garden, trying to remember the name of one of the plants, he had seen one exactly the same at home among yours, when two people entered the garden from the other side. One was a woman in a wheelchair, and must have been a hospital patient, the other who was pushing the wheelchair, dressed in a baby pink nurse uniform, was a hybrid. Jungkook frowned and looked more closely, curious. The girl with dog ears stopped the chair beside a tree, and crouched in front of the woman, the two seemed to be nice talking, because even with a tired and pale face, the woman was smiling, and the girl waved the golden fur tail, gesturing her hands as if she were telling a story.

"What are you looking at?" A deep voice spoke behind him.

Tae was back. He held out a can of soda for Jungkook.

"Thanks. I was just..." He tried to form a sentence to explain why exactly he was so curious about the two women, but the only thing he managed to say was. "I just found that strange."

Taehyung looked at the two too, now both of them were doing crochet and laughing.

"What is strange? Is just a patient and hybrid therapist." Tae put his hands in his pocket, finding the scene very cute.

"Hybrid therapist?" If Jungkook was confused before, now he was much more.

"Exactly like a job. They are very well trained from an early age to work with this. " Tae smiled, remembering that depending on what Jungkook's life was like before he met you he really had no way of knowing basic things in the normal world. Not every hybrid owner lets them know about the few rights they have. And well, Taehyung had no idea that Jungkook was a fight dog, if he knew he would have understood the doubt right away.

"Yeah... Like animal therapy with dogs, but with hybrids. They help the recovery of patients. Basically they serve to make patients who are hospitalized happier and healthier." Tae got a seat beside Jungkook, opening his soda and taking a sip.

"Wow. I didn't know hybrids can have jobs." A whole new world opened up in Jungkook's eyes with this information.

"Well... Hybrids cannot formally study yet, so the jobs they can have are still very limited. It is usually manual labor, waiter, janitor, store attendant, things like that. All Y/N stores have at least one hybrid among employees, for example. She believes that this is a way for them to have some independence, and takes great care to make sure the hybrid really wants to work, and is not being obliged by the owner." Tae explained.

"Independence, so that when the hybrids are free they have the means to go on with their lives. Is that right?" Jungkook concluded, putting together things you said and your uncle's speech on TV, and ideas that an old friend of him used to have.

"That's right! You're smart, man!" Taehyung cheered. "Are you interested in having a job?"

"I don't know. As I didn't know I could, I didn't even think about it." He opened his soda too.

Tae smiled in a way that his mouth formed a box.

"And that's totally ok. We have time to think about the future."

Jungkook's mouth formed a bunny smile.

"Yeah."

He was a little scared of your friends, but because they are so close to you, they are as cool as you are. Taehyung only has an evil face, because most of the time he is frowning, but in fact he is also a cinnamon roll as you said.

"Hyung..."  Jungkook got another doubt.

Taehyung gave a choked laugh, looking around to see if they were really alone. The woman at the counter still didn't give a shit about them. When he finally answered, it was in a much lower, secretive tone.

"Humm?"

"Jimin is a special case. You see, my dad wanted me to go to accounting school like him, and I did. But I'm dumb for math, and I'm definitely not an office man." He raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Basically all of my college tests and exams were made by Jimin, which is fraud and against law, but it gets worse... On the payroll, his name is as an assistant in Y/N’s  floriculture, and mine as an accountant. But he is the one who does the work, because he is the genius who likes numbers. That way Jimin does what he likes and is happy, my dad thinks I do what he wants and is happy, and I have time to do what I like and I'm happy."

"And what do you do?" Jungkook asked.

Taehyung was expecting Jungkook to deal less naturally with the revelation he made, but the dog didn't seem impressed at all. He just seemed to think it was cool. Usually he, Jimin and you keep this secret between you, but since you trust Jungkook so much to bring him to live with you, Tae didn't think it would be a problem, and that quiet response proved that thought right.

"Hey, both of you, you can't use flashes here." The woman at the counter finally paid attention to them.

"I like that you asked..." Said Taehyung, he is not a cat, but he is as egocentric as Jimin. He reached into his bag that he hasn't taken off his shoulder since he left the office and took something out. Before Jungkook could see what it was, a light temporarily blinded him. Flash. "I'mma photographer."

"Sorry...ah... Nicolle." Tae read her badge. When turning back to Jungkook he was rolling his eyes. "I was going to stop using the flash myself. With this sun I don't need to."

And he kept taking pictures of a Jungkook who didn't know what to do other than avoid eye contact. The photos were beautiful at the end.

"Not at all. I have a lot of work to do, and I'm kind of wasting time here." You tried to hint to get her to liberate you soon.

"Thank you, doctor. I knew it wasn't a big deal." You eagerly smiled.

"Why did you come, then?" She didn't get the hint at all, still not looking at you.

You held a sigh of frustration and responded in a joke tone.

"I know a handprint when I see one, and your bruise is one. Honey, if someone hurt you, you're in the right place to ask for help. I can call the police and make sure it's safe for you."

"My friends forced me."

You finally understood what she was thinking. And even if it wasn't your situation, with every word she said a shiver went down your spine, and you really felt safe. You almost wanted to cry at the thought of working normally and suddenly realizing that someone needs your help, but don't know how to ask. Well, your job is similar to that in a way.

"Thank you. Seriously, you... are amazing." Your voice was small. "But that is not the case. I do not suffer domestic violence."

She raised an eyebrow at you, still not believing one hundred percent.

"It was actually my hybrid." You felt pressured to say.

"This is pretty serious, too, you should call hybrid control." She dropped your hand on your lap and walked over to her table.

"No!" You almost yelled. Almost. "It's not his fault. He's been suffering from night terror and nightmares. I was careless when I woke him up."

She started to write on her computer.

For a moment she just nodded. She printed two sheets of paper for you.

"Then you should take him to a hybrid psychologist." She stated.

"Here. The prescription of your medicine and the guide for you to get a decent splint to immobilize that hand." She reclined in her chair. "And recommendations of good hybrid psychologists, there are three names on the list. And that's it."

"Thank you!" You were really grateful for that. You took your coat and headed for the exit, stopping with your hand on the handle. "And mainly thanks for your attitude, I didn't need any help but I know there are a lot of women out there who need it, so thanks for being available."

Back to the white corridor you sighed checking the hours, you only have a gigantic legal report to deliver before midnight, okay, no need to freak out. Ready to get your medicine and go back home put your slippers on. You hate hospitals to be honest, your quota has been hit for an entire month.

In what you came up at the corner of the hall, Jungkook's head snapped in your direction.

"I need to go to a pharmacy on the way."

"Yep. It wasn't anything serious, like I said." You answered with your hands inside your jacket pockets.

Tae whined.

"Ah, Y/N... I thought you were going to say something more fun. Like, I need to stop by an amusement park on the way..."

"As if Jimin wouldn't kill us if we did such a thing without him." You started walking to the exit, both males following you.

"So we pick him in the office and then we go." He tried to negotiate.

Jungkook looked from you to Taehyung with a little line of doubt forming between his eyebrows.

"No Taehyung. I need to work."

"You are no fun, Y/N!" Tae passed an arm by your shoulder. "Your job shouldn't be that important... You don't even like being a lawyer..."

You rolled your eyes.

"But it is! I'm new to the company and I want to be part of a specific case, and for that I have to be soooo efficient for them to trust me for this. It's not fair for you to be tempting me like that Tae." You pouted. "Besides, I wanted to be able to finish everything early, to have a free night today, and it won't happen anymore because of this silly visit to the doctor."

"Why did you want a free night?" Apparently this was the only part that Taehyung heard.

Before you could answer very grudgingly, Jungkook asked the question that was bothering his little cute head.

"What is an amusement park?"   

Both you and Tae looked at him, forgetting the former argument.

"That's where we go on Saturday. Right, Y/n?" A smile spread on Taehyung's face.

"Damn." You whined, watching the water go down the drain. You always liked your freedom. One of the reasons you never considered adopting a hybrid - apart from everything else - or having a roommate at all is that you like being alone, you value privacy. One of your favorite things to do is walking around the house all naked and free, and now you were realizing that you could probably never do that again with a man living with you now . As you closed your eyes, resting your forehead on the cold tiles on the wall, the happy face of Jungkook appeared in your thoughts. "Shit ... it's worth it."

To avoid the noise and be able to focus on work, you found a good lo-fi playlist and put earphones on. The streetlights started to light up and the sun was going away when you decided to take a break to eat something and take a shower, feeling pain in your back and your butt square of sitting for so long. From the sound of a third voice downstairs, you assumed that Jimin finished the day's tasks and closed the office at normal hours, and joined the other two.

Entering the living room you were taken by surprise by kicking high in the air and jumping boys, the couch out of place, and a mix of music and laughter.

Feeling fifty percent renewed, you dried yourself with a fluffy towel and applied a moisturizer to each corner of your skin before dressing up, and then brushed your wet hair.

"You are playing Just Dance now?" You laughed.

Jungkook, who was sitting in the corner watching Jimin and Taehyung dancing, reached to your hand pulling you to sit with him.

"Jimin hyung wanted to dance..." He said, holding you by the shoulders. He looked like he was having a good time.

Jimin and Taehyung burst into screams and laughter when the song ended and the score appeared in the center of the TV screen.

"Noooooooo! How is this even possible!" Jimin threw himself on the floor at the same time Tae made a winning dance.

"It's because you stop to laugh a lot, hyung!" Jungkook mocked.

He looked so, so happy.   

"Totally worth it." You let it slip, looking at him.

"What?" He looked back at you.

"Nothing." Your face heated up. "Play you now, I want to see you dance."

He made a happy squick getting up so fast he almost passed over you like a steamroller.

"Ok."

"Jackson!" Jimin greeted.

"I want to dance a hard one!"

You and the man named Jackson let go from each other, but instead of getting apart from him, you enlaced your hand with his, pulling him inside the apartment. He kissed your temple, making you blush, and Jungkook's jaw dropped.

"Hi guys." Jackson said, lifting some cardboard bags with his free hand. "I brought food, but I didn't know you were here so there's not much..."

"It's okay, let's put it in the kitchen." You said already turning around there.

"I message you telling the boys are here." You said to him.

"Did you hurt your hand?"

"This is nothing. You know me, I'm reckless." You laughed to yourself.

You two disappeared into the kitchen.

"Did you know he would be back today?" Jimin whispered to Tae.

"Don't know. She didn't kick us off." Tae was thoughtful.

The two exchanged a weird look. Jimin made a face.

"Nice, because I don't want to go home just yet." Jimin returned to the choice of songs.

You were happy having a glass of mocha latte Jackson brought to you when you said.

"But we should...!"

"I have to introduce you. Jackson, this is Jungkook... JK, this is Jackson."

"Hi." Said Jungkook.

"Did you adopt him, Taehyung?" Jackson asked cordially.   

"Hi. Nice to meet you." Jackson reached a hand to Jungkook, wearing a genuine smile. "I'm Y/N boyfriend."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"Jackson looked surprised, and maybe a little uncomfortable.

"No." You answered, kind of nervous. "I did."

"Yes. You said we could talk about it when you got back, I didn't want to disturb you. You were working." You talked faster than you intended.

"But this is important, it wouldn't disturb me at all." Jackson looked from you to Jungkook and back to you and smiled. "It's just too sudden... Mostly coming from you."

"It was not planned at all, it is that Jungkook is special. It was destiny." You tried to explain, regretting the last part as soon as the words came out your mouth. It was a bit too much. You took a sip of your coffee.

"Got it..." Jackson shrugged.

Before things could get any more weird, Taehyung talked in his cheer tone.

"Since there's no food for everyone, we are going out to get hamburgers. Right, JK?"

Something clicked on Jungkook's mind and he came back to planet earth a little.

Jimin started pushing the taller boy for the door.

"Right?" Jungkook looked at him without understanding.

"Yeah, put on your shoes and let's go."

Over the shoulder you mouthed a grateful "thanks" to Taehyung, both by saving the conversation, both for letting you have alone time with your boyfriend and taking care of Jungkook at the same time. The three of them left the apartment as if you had thrown them out - as fast as they could. You sighed when the door closed behind them.

That said, you grabbed the jacket and ran out the door, not paying attention if he said something to you, skipping steps down the stairs to go faster, before the boys got in the car.

"Did you finish work?"Jackson released your hand so he could hold you.

"Jungkook!" You arrived in the courtyard behind the building, where Tae's convertible was parked next to your SUV. Jungkook was getting into the car, but stopped in mid-motion when he heard you calling. "Your jacket!"

"I forgot it!" His ears went up.

He came to you, and instead of giving it to him, you threw the jacket over his shoulders, making him wear it, and then zipped it up to the top. Something occurred to you, something important that you should have already said to Jungkook, and that now, more than before, needs to be clear.

"Jungkook, maybe you have already figured this out, because you are smart. But my work with that organization is a secret. All my hybrid rescue work with them is secret. So you can't talk to anyone about it, that includes telling how and where we met. It doesn't matter if you know that I trust the person... In fact, even if you know that the person knows the secret, avoid talking about... Got it?"

Jungkook's gaze became serious, in a way you haven't seen yet, a strong look. He was always good at keeping secrets, his, of the owners he had, of the other hybrids he was locked up in in the dark basement ... Keeping a secret of yours, who is a person he cares about so much, wouldn't be so difficult. "Yes. Does that include, Taehyung, Jimin ... and Jackson?" You looked away, biting your lip. "Everyone, JK. But mostly Jackson. Please?"

His gaze went from one eye of yours to the other, trying to understand what you meant by that. You are a person full of secrets, he already realized, and he has no problem with that, because he believes that you have your reasons just as he has his. "You can count on me." He smiled, holding out a little finger for you. You let a laugh take over you all. "A pinky promise?" "These are the best contracts." He shrugged. You hooked your little finger in his, sealing the secret of how your lives intertwined only between the two of you. Jungkook ran back to the car, where your childhood friends were waiting for him, wishing him fun and you returned to the warmth of the apartment where your boyfriend was waiting for you.

_______________________________________________________________

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sorry not sorry

[rapeculturerealities]

For millions of working women, the coronavirus pandemic has delivered a rare and ruinous one-two-three punch.

First, the parts of the economy that were smacked hardest and earliest by job losses were ones where women dominate — restaurants, retail businesses and health care.

Then a second wave began taking out local and state government jobs, another area where women outnumber men.

The third blow has, for many, been the knockout: the closing of child care centers and the shift to remote schooling. That has saddled working mothers, much more than fathers, with overwhelming household responsibilities.

“We’ve never seen this before,” said Betsey Stevenson, a professor of economics and public policy at the University of Michigan and the mother of a second grader and a sixth grader. Recessions usually start by gutting the manufacturing and construction industries, where men hold most of the jobs, she said.

The impact on the economic and social landscape is both immediate and enduring.

The triple punch is not just pushing women out of jobs they held, but also preventing many from seeking new ones. For an individual, it could limit prospects and earnings over a lifetime. Across a nation, it could stunt growth, robbing the economy of educated, experienced and dedicated workers.

Inequality in the home — in terms of household and child care responsibilities — influences inequality in the workplace, Misty L. Heggeness, a principal economist at the Census Bureau, concluded in a working paper on the pandemic’s impact for the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis. Without a more comprehensive system of support, she said, “mothers will forever be vulnerable to career scarring during any major crisis like this pandemic.”

The latest jobs report from the Labor Department showed that some of the damage was reversed last month as the service industry revived, nudging down the jobless rate for women to 6.5 percent, slightly below men’s. But there were still 4.5 million fewer women employed in October than there were a year ago, compared with 4.1 million men.

And according to the Census Bureau, a third of the working women 25 to 44 years old who are unemployed said the reason was child care demands. Only 12 percent of unemployed men cited those demands.

Laci Oyler has felt that pressure. Her husband, employed by a large printing company, was already working from home when the pandemic shuttered day care and schools in Milwaukee. But after two days of taking care of their two young sons, “he said, ‘Absolutely no way,’” Ms. Oyler explained. So she cut her weekly hours as a mental health counselor for Alverno College, a small Catholic institution, to five from 32.

In August, when she learned that public schools would continue to offer only online classes for the fall, Ms. Oyler decided she had little choice but to take an unpaid leave.

This month, she decided to resign.

“Work is so much more than what you’re taking home as payment,” Ms. Oyler said. “But when you look at that bottom line of risk versus reward, it doesn’t seem worth it,” she added, referring to the cost of child care combined with the possibility of coronavirus infection for her or her children.

As a licensed professional, Ms. Oyler does not expect to have difficulty returning to the work force when she is ready. But for most working women, dropping out to take care of children or other family members exacts a sizable toll, several studies have shown. Rejoining is hard, and if women do, they generally earn less and have less security. And the longer someone is out of work, the tougher it is to get back in.

Claudia Goldin, an economics professor at Harvard, said this was the first recession where the economy was so intertwined with the network of child care.

“During the Great Depression, no one cared about the care sector,” she said. “Women weren’t in the labor force, and they weren’t supposed to be.”

One reason that Congress started giving financial assistance to poor households headed by women in the 1930s, under a program originally titled Aid to Dependent Children, was so they could stay home with their children and not compete with men for jobs, Ms. Goldin said.

Only during World War II, when women were urgently needed in factories and offices to replace men who were in the military, did the government establish a far-reaching federally subsidized network of nurseries and child care centers in nearly every state. Once the war ended, so did the support.

“You cannot have a contented mother working in a war factory if she is worrying about her children, and you cannot have children running wild in the streets without a bad effect on the coming generations,” Senator Carl Hayden, an Arizona Democrat, testified in 1943.

Women make up roughly half of the country’s work force. They range from entry-level to professional, they live in urban, suburban and rural areas, and they often care for toddlers and teenagers. But the burdens of the pandemic-induced recession have fallen most heavily on low-income and minority women and single mothers.

Members of these overlapping groups often have the most unpredictable schedules, and the fewest benefits, and are least able to afford child care. They fill most of the essential jobs that cannot be done from home and, therefore, carry the most risk for exposure to the virus. At the same time, they make up a disproportionate share of the service industries that have lost the most jobs. The jobless rate is 9.2 percent for Black women and 9 percent for Hispanic women.

When the pandemic caused housecleaning jobs to dry up, Andrea Poe was able to find cleaning work at a resort in Orange Beach, Ala., about a 45-minute drive from Pensacola, Fla., where she and her 14-year-old daughter, Cheyenne Poe, had moved in with an older daughter, her fiancé and their five children.

The families were behind in the rent and threatened with eviction when Hurricane Sally ripped through the coast in September. To escape the floods, they piled into two cars, drove to Biloxi, Miss., and spent five nights in a Walmart parking lot.

Now Ms. Poe and Cheyenne, who has turned 15, are in Peoria, Ariz., living in a room in her mother’s trailer.

She said she was applying for jobs every day, so far without luck. And the bills keep coming. Ms. Poe has missed two consecutive loan payments on her car and worries that it will be repossessed.

“I’m just hoping my unemployment checks come through so my car doesn’t get taken away,” she said. “If I lose my car, I’ll never be able to get a job.”

Women with more resources are in a better position, but they struggle in other ways.

When the pandemic ripped through Seattle and compelled Kenna Smith, 37, to work from home, she initially saw one upside — a chance to spend more time with her 3-year-old son.

“At first, I thought I’d just focus on my child,” said Ms. Smith, who had just started a branding and design company, Wildforth Creative. “It was fun for a while, but then the stress was intense.”

Like many families who were worried about the risk of infection or short of money and space, Ms. Smith and her husband let their son’s nanny go. Her husband, project manager for a general contractor, worked out of their bedroom.

“I’m not sure why it totally fell on me,” Ms. Smith said of child care. “I’m out in the living room, dining room area with a whole bunch of toys strewn about, with my laptop, trying to run my business.

“I was wanting to work and wanting my business to succeed so badly,” she said. “I didn’t realize. …” She paused, interrupted by a voice: “Mommy, I want some applesauce.”

The couple recently decided to hire a part-time nanny, concluding that despite the expense, it was the only way both could keep working. (Ms. Smith’s sister is also helping out.)

From 2015 until the pandemic, women’s increasing participation in the work force was a primary driver of the economy’s expansion, said Ms. Stevenson, the Michigan economist. “It’s why the economy grew the way it did, why employers could keep hiring month after month,” she said.

Since February, women’s participation in the labor force has been falling, with the biggest decreases among women without college degrees who have children.

Changes forced on women by the pandemic elicit a mixture of anxiety and hope.

Many women worry that the changes will sharply narrow women’s choices and push them unwillingly into the unpaid role of full-time homemaker.

And the impact could stretch over generations, paring women’s retirement savings, and reducing future earnings of children now in low-income households.

“We are creating inequality 20 years down the line that is even greater than we have today,” said Ms. Stevenson, who was a member of President Barack Obama’s Council of Economic Advisers. “This is how inequality begets inequality.”

Yet there is also the possibility that the mounting pressures could create momentum to complete the unfinished project of fully integrating women into the work force by providing a system of family support — like affordable child care and paid parental and sick leave.

“I think we’re really at a crossroads,” said Julie Kashen, director for women’s economic justice at the Century Foundation and one of the authors of a new report on the pandemic and working women. “We’ve never built a workplace that worked for people with caregiving responsibilities.”

[365days365movies]

January 23, 2021: The Fast and the Furious (2001)

Car movie weekend continues!

So, Drive was definitely more of a straight-up action movie with driving scenes. I can assume that this movie’s the exact reverse, with more driving than other types of action. But, first...truth time. I’ve never seen this movie...but I have seen a Fast and Furious movie. To be specific...

Yeah, that’s the last one, The Fate of the Furious. See, my girlfriend is a HUGE fan of the franchise, so we saw that in theaters on a date. It should be noted, again, that this is the only film I’ve seen in the franchise. That is, of course, until today!

I actually enjoyed the last movie, so hopefully I’ll like the first. Ive also heard that the franchise has changed DRASTICALLY since the original movie. So, let’s get into it, and watch the birth of the Family, shall we? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

A hijacking is taking place on the Los Angeles highway, as a delivery truck full of TVs and other technology is intercepted by an automobile gang using grappling hooks. Cool.

The next day, a guy in an electric green car (that I want, and would name Acid Storm) is doing a speed test in his car. This is Brian Spilner (Paul Walker), who goes to a place called Torretto’s for a sandwich. It’s namesake is Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) who waits in the back of the bar. His sister, Mia (Jordana Brewster) mans the bar, and is sought by Brian. 

This is to the chagrin of Vince (Matt Schulze), a potential rival for Mia’s affections. Along with Jesse (Chad Lindberg), Leon (Johnny Strong), and his girlfriend Letty Ortiz (Michelle Rodriguez), he’s a part of Dominic’s crew. Vince begins a fight with Brian over Mia, and Dominic intervenes, telling Brian not to come back to his place, threatening his job at one of his friend’s establishments.

That night, Brian goes to a local street race, which is run by Dominic. Brian enters the buy-in for the race by putting Acid Storm (Brian’s Car) up for collateral. Using complex nitrous oxide systems, or NOS, the racers begin.

Brian uses a liiiiiiiittle too much of the NOS, and while Acid Storm certainly goes faster, it completely craps out in the process, causing him to lose. As Dominic is chewing him out for his poor driving, and is about to take Acid Storm, the cops make their way to the illegal street race, causing everyone involved to scatter.

Dom’s nearly caught, but Brian picks him up, saving him in the process with some slick driving. In the process, it’s revealed that Brian spent two years in juvie, while Dom spent two years in Lompoc, a federal prison, and didn’t have a great time there. In the process of fleeing, they’re saved, then held hostage by Johnny Tran (Rick Yune), the leader of a Vietnamese gang, alongside his cousin Lance (Reggie Lee). They destroy Acid Storm in the process.

Dom returns to his place with Brian, where a party is taking place. He chews out the rest of the gang for leaving him behind, then leaves to go upstairs with Letty. As Vince is about to start a fight, Mia steps in, and offers to take Brian home.

The next day, however, he’s arrested by the cops, for seemingly no reason. And that leads to...a surprise! Brian’s an undercover cop, forking for the LAPD and the FBI! Surprise! His real name is Brian O’Conner, so I’ll stick with Brian. The mission is to discover who’s hijacking the trucks, and Toretto is the number one suspect.

Brian brings a new car to Toretto, a beaten up wreck with an excellent engine. Toretto brings Brian on officially as a part of his gang, which immediately puts off Vince. They fix up the car together, and Dom invites everybody over for dinner. This leads to Mia turning Vince down for Brian, which naturally pisses Vince off.

At Brian’s other OTHER job, at a local customization garage, where Hector (Noel Gugliemi), the organizer of the street races, asks him to give him three sets of parts for three identical cars. Whiiiiiiich sounds like the gangsters. And they aren’t part of Dominic’s crew or Johnny’s. I’m calling it now, it’s these guys.

Later that night, Brian breaks into a garage to investigate, but he’s caught by Vince and Dom. He makes an excuse that he’s trying to figure out what the competitors have for vehicles, while Vince insists that he’s a cop, but the Bluff check appears to work on Dom, who must have a lower Will than Vince.

The three end up breaking into Johnny’s place, where Brian sees the stolen TVs. They also notice that their cars have no engines in them. But as they’re investigating, Johnny and Lance show up with a hostage, an auto supplies fence who hasn’t brought their engines to them. They oilboard him (gross), and he gives up the location. Johnny sucks. And Dom’s group sees all of it.

The next day, Brian gives his information to his cop allies (Ted Levine and Thom Barry), who also accuse Brian of falling for Mia, which could cloud his judgment. While they want to move on Johnny and Dominic, he convinces them to wait a few days.

Dominic and Brian are working together, when Dominic espouses some of his past. His father was a stock car racer who died in a terrible accident, due to the interference of a rival driver. Having seen his father die, and blaming Linder, he beat Linder savagely, crippling him for life. It also prevented Dominic from racing professionally, and landed him in jail, bringing him into his current lifestyle.

Mia and Brian officially go on a date, and seem to hit it off. Mia seems to be a talented driver all on her own, but that’s not the focus of the night. The hijackers hit again, and Brian gets the call from the feds while in bed with Mia. Johnny and his gang are arrested, with Brian coming along.

Unfortunately, the DVD players were bought legally, leaving the feds with nothing, and Brian with 36 hours to solve the case. Toretto is now the biggest target, to Brian’s chagrin.

The next day, Brian plays hardball with Toretto, and manages to get his way into Race Wars, which seems to be an in for Dom’s other pursuits. Although, I still don’t think it’s him involved in the hijackings.

Race Wars! The amateur racing circuit begins, and everybody’s there, including Letty, who smokes a guy for $2000. Nice. Meanwhile, Jesse’s racing up against Johnny, despite Brian warning him not to. Jesse loses the car to him, and takes off after the race. Johnny confronts Toretto about that, and the FBI raid of his house. Dom’s not a big fan of that accusation.

That night, Dom and company take off, to Mia’s protest. And STUPIDLY, Brian tries to get the truth out of Mia by telling her that he’s a cop. That’s gonna go greeeeeeat. Mia’s understandably upset about this, but also realizes that Brian’s telling the truth, both about how he feels for her, and about the fact that her brother’s extremely likely to get arrested or hurt. She still isn’t happy about it, though.

We also cut to Dom and the gang, now short of Jesse. And yeah, it’s him. Not gonna lie, I really didn’t think it was Dom! Kinda sucks that it is, to be honest. They start the hijacking, but don’t account for something: the truck drivers are getting PISSED OFF. They mentioned earlier that some of these drivers are readying themselves for potential hijackings. And it looks like this is one of them.

This truck driver means business, and is now actively trying to kill Dom and his gang. He fires at the cars, while Vince clings to the side of the truck. He runs Letty off the road, and she’s not doing amazing. Vince gets shot, and Dominic’s car gets shot right in the engine.

Brian and Mia, meanwhile, catch up to them in the newly repaired car (which I’m calling Sunstorm), and rescues Vince, who also isn’t doing amazing. In the process, he reveals to Dom that he’s a cop. And Dom...is also not happy.

Vince is airlifted to a hospital, and Dom and Brian meet each other back in town. They confront each other, just as Jesse finally shows back up with the car that should be Johnny’s. Johnny agrees, as they engage in a drive-by shooting, killing Jesse in the process. Brian and Dom chase after them, Brian in Sunstorm, and Dom in his father’s old car.

What proceeds is a tense, gun-filled motorcycle and car chase. Johnny’s shot and killed by Brian. Dominic shows up, then speeds away, as Brian gives chase. They meet at a stop light, and agree to a street race toward a railroad crossing, complete with oncoming train. If Brian catches him, then he’ll go with him.

If.

...Yeah, that was cool. But unfortunately, it ends less than ideally for Dominic.

Brian helps Dom out of the wrecked car, as the police approach. He gives Dom Sunstorm, allowing him to flee the police. Dom’s free, and Brian stays behind to face the consequences. Not that we see those, as Dom drives into the sunset of Baja California, living life a quarter mile at a time.

And that’s The Fast and the Furious! It’s a ride...literally! The Epilogue’ll have more details. See you then!

[florbelles]

All odd NSFW asks for my beloved cult daughter-in law! I promise this won't make it back to the Resistance. 🐍💕

here we are, lovely. evens answered here with all the freak stuff.

nsfw. tw lyra-typical content.

note that i’ve used “husband” where both john & wes are applicable, names where it’s specific to one (1) of the ferretbrooks men

01. when did they lose their virginity?

in the conscious “i am going to fuck” sense, she was 14; it was the son of one of the summer families on the island, he was older and smuggled whiskey and cigarettes out to the beach for her. arguably it was a bit earlier than that, depending on how hard you want to drive the definition; she’d messed around a bit with past friends & roommates at school, but nothing serious.

the boy never knew, for what that’s worth; she didn’t lie, he simply didn’t ask, and that’s how she preferred it.

03. what is the weirdest place they’ve had sex?

by whose definition?

lyra generally has more abnormality in circumstance than physical location ( her judge chambers, john’s confession room, the altar in the compound church, that time she got railed against a tree to the screams of sinners roasting on a pyre ) but to her they’re all simply tuesday.

having said that, if there’s a place sex is physically a viable option, she’s probably fucked there tbh

05. are they dominant, submissive, or switch?

switch. with men, historically, she was more likely to be dominant, but given that the vast majority of them were strangers she met along the road and/or targets of a conjob or murder, that was more about maintaining control & a protective measure than any personal preference ( much like leaving her shoes on; john is the first person she fucks barefoot in the entirety of her life ). there’s a reason lust isn’t one of her sins despite her expansive experience; for most of her life, sex was a weapon, a tool, or an outlet for her to self-medicate, not a driving force for its own sake.

having established that, she enjoys going both ways; with john it’s very much either/or because they both tip more towards the bossy bottom bitch end of the spectrum but Also enjoy absolutely railing their bossy bottom bitch partner, so it works well for them. wes is more likely to top despite being a switchlord himself because he generously indulges her ( their ) secret inner simp(s).

she inherently lets women get away with more, so she’s more likely to sub with them, but she doesn’t mind domming/topping. much like positions, she prefers variety; she wouldn’t want to be one or the other all the time.

07. would they be more likely to do it in the bed, on the couch, on the floor, or somewhere else?

lyra will fuck on literally any surface available; her blood runs hot and so do her impulses, so wherever the urge strikes ( as it often does ). statistically speaking, she probably has more sex in bed than any other single location purely out of convenience; it’s where they are in the morning and it’s where they end up at night. a close second would be the shower, but there’s not a place in the ranch that hasn’t been desecrated ( rip to the cleaners and to shaggy specifically ). having said that, other highlights include against trees, in the dirt, on bearskin rugs, on the cement floors of the bunker, on tables and desks, that poor couch, yeah, the plane, the plane got desecrated, what about it,

09. have they ever been caught masturbating?

sure, especially in boarding school, where she invariably had roommates. it’s not a major life event, though.

11. how often do they have sex?

she ain’t just soaking in that tub every day for the fun of it honey

lyra being very much Like That, it’s usually every day, multiple times a day. in canon that’s partly because she and john don’t really have long enough to move past the stage of physical obsession with each other ( though how much they really would have progressed in that department is debatable because they are Them ).

that’s just with john, so imagine how much worse it is in ferretbrooks verse where there’s Two Husbands, oh god there’s gonna be a prolapse situation

all jests aside, physicality is the way lyra is best at expressing love and intimacy, so she seeks it out wherever and whenever she can. she loves the permanent pleasant soreness between her thighs and in her muscles because it's a reminder of what she has; the ache of its absence later is excruciating.

13. do they like giving oral?

she loves it ( in all forms ). lyra’s extremely mouthy in all aspects. going down on her partners is one of her preferred forms of sex and is also her biggest unhorrific turn-on; she’s highly voyeuristic and loves watching them, hearing them, tasting them, feeling the muscles in their thighs twitch, cleaning them with her mouth post-coitus.

15. what is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to them during sex?

the mortifying ordeal of openly weeping during sex because you love your husband so much. also the mortifying ordeal of loving your husband so much.

17. what is a song they’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex?

here

lyra would much prefer to hear herself and her partner; she never intentionally puts music on during sex.

19. would they prefer sex in the tub or sex in the shower?

she’s more likely to have sex in the shower simply both out of efficiency and the greater position range ( her preferred shower sex position is with her leg over her partner’s shoulder ) in addition to weeping potential but she enjoys both; she’s more likely to engaging heavy petting/making out in the bath and fucking After, though.

21. have they ever had a threesome? if not, would they?

lyra has both thrown and attended her share of orgies in her day, so yes, absolutely. perhaps more pertinently she’s in polyamorous marriages across the multiverse ( because of her history with her father and who she is as a person, infidelity/lying/betraying a partner is something she’s physically incapable of doing; poly/open relationships or orgies are the only circumstances where multiple partners are possible for her ). special mention goes to shaggy who, while never having any form of sexual or romantic contact with either of them, is john & lyra’s long-suffering third ( and fairbrooks’ long-suffering fourth ).

23. have they ever given someone a dirty text/letter/picture?

please refer to the bit about her exhibitionist tendencies from installment i.

in all seriousness, she’s more likely to give her partners an actual physical photo of herself or a a handwritten, perfumed, lipstick-printed note ( no, she does not ordinarily wear lipstick, yes, she put on lipstick for that specifically, why do you ask ) that’s some convoluted but poetic variation of “hurry home so i can suck you dry xx” than she is to text anything. ( with her darling dear deputy wes she’s also quite fond of erotic radio broadcasts, though those are usually vaguely threatening in nature and sexy to absolutely no one but herself and their unfortunate recipient. what do you mean describing the way she’s going to crucify his friends along the main road isn’t romantic? ) she also abuses the radios with john, but those calls are simply to conspire trysts, not engage in verbal foreplay ( yes, they’re married and live together, what about it? ).

25. is there anything they do after sex? (ex: smoke, eat, drink, cuddle)

lyra’s sleeping/clinging habits have been described extensively in the past ( in that she’s invariably completely twined and tangled with her partner in a confusion of limbs, usually facing them, usually nuzzling their neck ), and those are more or less applicable here regardless of whether or not she’s actually going to sleep; she likes the hold her partner and watch them, stroke their hair/beard/face/back. she’s a nudger, she expresses post-coital fondness nose-first. if sleep isn’t imminent and she has cigarettes on hand ( she usually does ) she’ll light up, but that’s less a post-sex ritual and more her permanent state of being.

this is all only applicable with her husband/spouse(s), though; with casual encounters she’s a hit and run.

27. do they prefer morning sex or night sex?

both, but secretly she prefers mornings; that’s when she’s at her most affectionate. she makes love in the morning, still too comfortably sleepy to pretend to be anything but deliriously happy and desperately in love, and she’s all heavy lids and upturned lips she kisses swollen and slow rocking hips; the point isn’t to get each other off as it is to be together and have that intimacy & closeness. lyra’s always going to be most comfortable expressing her love with her body, it’s why she’s so deeply physical. it’s also the real reason john actually drags his beauty sleep requiring bitch ass out of bed to watch the sunrise with her every morning.

29. what is their favourite body part on the same sex?

the whole ass woman.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Doyenne ~ Part 5

Warnings: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy needs help from one of Birmingham’s most powerful underground gangs, the Hemlock Angels. Little does he know, he’s not the king of Birmingham after all.

Warnings: None really

Word Count: 2650

__________________________

Against your initial preference, Tommy had taken you back to his home, insisting that if Darby Sabini was after you, the last thing you should do was stay at home alone. At least at his house, he was there to keep you safe, despite your insistence that you were a fully capable gang boss in spite of your lack of penis. 

But why did part of you want to go to his house? Why did part of you actually like that he wanted to keep you safe? Why did part of you, against all previous accusations from business partners that he was a dirty double crosser, want to trust him? 

So that night you found yourself sitting on his couch with a glass of whiskey in your hand, staring off into the fire. Everything felt too relaxed for your comfort. Tommy’s main maid had given you medical supplies to cleanse and bandage up your calves and neck. She’d even drawn you a bath to wash off all the blood and apologized profusely when the only other clothes she could find was a clean uniform she kept in her quarters. 

Having read in the news word of Grace’s murder over a year ago, you had a suspicion that perhaps she and Tommy were lying but also completely understood why he wouldn’t want to lend you his deceased wife’s clothes. 

The maid’s uniform hadn’t bothered you at all. In fact, it made you feel humble again, a nice reminder of where you could be and that you needed to be grateful for what you had been able to build. 

“Are you alright?” Tommy inquired seeing that you’d been zoned out, looking at the fire roaring for who knew how long. 

You shook yourself from your thoughts, “Yeah… yeah. I’m fine.” You lied. You weren’t. All you could think about was the horrible end that your men had met. Although you knew that it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it. There wasn’t even a valid reason for it. No good explanation. You just felt so damn guilty. And now you’d have to tell their wives and children what they’d lost.

“You weren’t responsible for what happened, Y/N.” Tommy sat in the armchair beside the couch you were on, practically reading your mind from your face. It was as if you hadn’t even tried to hide what you were feeling. Your typically personable or tough exterior was now solemn and void of light. 

Raising your cigarette to your lips, you took the deepest drag you’d ever taken, “I wish I could believe that. They were good men. They should have gotten real honest work. I never should have employed them knowing the risks of the job, knowing they had families.” 

“They chose to work. They could have gotten jobs anywhere in town but they made the choice to get into all of this. They knew the risks.” He spoke bluntly but truthfully and you knew it deep down. “Would’a like more?” He asked, pouring himself another glass and raising it to you, offering you a refill. 

“I’m alright, thank you.” You rejected, not even glancing down at the crystal in your hand. But you knew the last thing you needed right now was to spiral into a hole of drunkenness no matter how badly you wanted to. You were already feeling relaxed from the two glasses you’d had anyways but you weren’t sure just how relaxed you wanted to be near him. 

He lit himself a cigarette and stared off into the fire as well and the two of you sat in silence for a while. It was surprisingly comfortable considering your entire past with the exception of today had been filled with small arguments with the goal of establishing dominance over each other. But it wasn’t about that now. For once, you felt like equals and it was nice. In fact, it almost felt like neither of you were gang bosses at all but simply friends hanging out. It was a nice change for both of you but you couldn’t tell if the nervous butterflies in your stomach were from your subconscious not trusting him, being paranoid about Sabini’s men coming after you, or because you were alone with Tommy. 

“Thank you,” You finally mumbled out to him, eyes never leaving the roaring flames ahead of you, “For coming to save me earlier.” 

“You were only there because of our deal. As much as I didn’t want to get involved, I couldn’t bring myself to leave you to his will.” He almost sounded apologetic. Almost. 

A small forced snort left you, “You mean so that you can still get the last $50,000.” You corrected sarcastically. 

He shrugged, arms resting across the arms of his chair, “That is part of it.” 

You had to admit, you appreciated the honesty. “Well, regardless of your reasons, you did do a lot today.” You shifted in your seat, pulling your legs up onto the couch with you. 

“Are you cold?” Tommy asked in a surprising display of tenderness. 

It took you off guard, “What? Oh, no, no I’m fine. Thank you, Thomas.” You lied, tucking your feet in closer to you and flinching when your bandaged calves came into contact with your fingers. At least it had stopped bleeding finally. 

He straightened up slightly at the sound of his first name coming from your lips. It was the first time you’d referred to him as anything but Mr. Shelby. Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was a new sense of comfort since he’d referred to you by your first name earlier today in the heat of panic. Regardless, his name coming from you sounded like liquid gold. 

Wordlessly, Tommy stood up and walked off to a cupboard before returning with a burgundy blanket and handed it to you, “Take it. You’re cold.” He extended the folded blanket to you and you took it, finding yourself caught staring at him as you did so. 

Even though he still had that same dang cold look on his face, his eyes almost seemed gentle and concerned in a way you’d never expected to see from him. The fire burning brightly behind him illuminated every highlight and cast shadows to accentuate every sharp angular line. He’d shed his coat earlier in the night, now relaxing in his white button up, tie, and suspenders. 

Had he always been this attractive? No, no, stop that. 

“Thank you,” You reluctantly took the blanket but didn’t hesitate to throw it over your body. This time, instead of returning to his arm chair, he sat beside you on the couch. You eyed the distance between the two of you, heart pounding inexplicably. He was still sitting a respectful distance away, there was nothing to be concerned about. But why did he sit on the couch when he’d already established a seat in the chair? 

“Can’t have you go freezing on me.” 

You looked over with a shocked expression, “Was that actually a joke? Is Thomas Shelby actually capable of having a sense of humor?” You teased but the amazement was genuine.

He sighed, sipping his whiskey to hide the chuckle that had threatened to creep its way up, “It has been known to happen on rare occasions.” 

“Ah, well don’t keep it up. Someone might think you have a heart.” You joked, nudging his leg slightly with your foot through the blanket. 

Tommy’s eyes flashed to his leg just as the movement happened and his chest froze up. Were you flirting with him? You’d been flirting with him throughout your entire professional relationship so far but he’d chalked it up to a tactic you used to get what you want. His suspicions had only been confirmed when your entire demeanor changed as the day’s events unravelled but this looked like genuine flirting.

He’d watched as your confident, almost cocky, attitude had melted away into a real person. It was a shift that you hated watching in yourself. You’d never allowed your facade to drop for anyone except yourself and Rita. Even then, it wasn’t much of a facade. It was the real you, just the most confident version of you. The most manipulative version of you. Not that you were a necessarily manipulative person but you had ways of getting what you wanted, through both force and kind gestures. But now you were a real person around him. 

“So how did you get into all of this?” You pried, feeling more relaxed with your questions as the two whiskey’s kicked in. 

Tommy shifted to lean back into the crevice of the couch, turning to face you more, “Well, me father was a thief when he was around. He stole whatever he could get his hands on and that was all he did. No real job or anything. My mum was dead too so we didn’t have much money, even before he left us. When he did, I swore we’d never live like that again. The Blinders were just a small, mostly family, group running books illegally before the war but when I came back, it took off.” He explained, surprisingly candidly. He inhaled, the sudden weight of the truth being out to anyone but his family weighing on him instead of making him feel lighter, “What about you?” 

You gulped down the rest of you whiskey, “Kind of similar. Grew up flat broke. My parents worked their asses off to provide for us. My dad got injured in the factory and my brother went off to war where he was killed. It was just up to me and me mum to take care of everyone but it became very clear very quickly that women don’t make enough to live in the city here. A change needed to be made. I needed to be paid like a man. So I started small with bootlegging and it grew from there.” 

You sighed, adding, “My brother never knew anything but poverty and struggle. All I wanted was to show him how good life could be.” 

“I’m sure he would be very proud of you. I like to think the same about my late wife.” Tommy admitted, stopping when he did. What on Earth was he thinking, bringing up Grace? He knew what happened when he thought about her. This wasn’t the time or place. 

“I read about that in the paper when it happened. I’m so sorry for your loss.” You knew a thing or two about loss. Not in a romantic sense but you’d lost many people that you loved. 

Tommy sighed, wanting to change the subject. He hated that he let his guard down with anyone. “Are you still okay on whiskey?” 

You laughed quietly, “You trying to get me drunk?” Tommy didn’t say anything, just looked exasperatedly at you and your jokes, “Okay, fine. Can I please get another glass?” 

He nodded, getting up to pour you more. You muttered your thanks when he went to return the crystal bottle, “So is all this nice stuff just an act to get what you want?” 

The question took you back although it was something you’d been asked before. Most of the men in the business didn’t understand that kindness could get you more than violence in some situations. “Not entirely,” You began honestly,” I think that kindness is a good initial motivator, especially when they’re doing a favor for you. In business, it shows good faith. But don’t you see enough misery in this God forsaken city, anyways? I’m not here to make people miserable. Quite the opposite,” You stood up and walked towards the fireplace, leaning on the wall beside the mantle, “I want money and success but if I can do it while helping people escape life for a while, then that’s the best thing I can think of.” You paused, almost for dramatic affect, your voice more stern when you spoke again, “Violence is a good tactic when the kindness runs out.” 

Tommy nodded, eyebrows raising for just a moment as he considered that perhaps you had a good thing going, “I have to admit, sounds like you might be onto something,” He pressed himself up from the couch, strolling towards you casually, “It seems like your people seem to respect you and listen to you. They don’t question your authority.” 

With every word he spoke, he took another step towards you until he was almost toe to toe with you. You leaned back against the wall and looked up at him, his face completely illuminated by the warm fire light, your heart in your throat. He was beautiful and he was standing so close. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocatingly so. 

His eyes locked on yours and no matter how hard you tried to pry them away, you couldn’t bring yourself to. You didn’t want to. Your body was suddenly strong, as if trying to fight the vibe in the room, as Tommy peered down on you. You almost fell into his touch before he could even make contact with you, so touch starved. You’d been so caught up in your work for so long, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d felt the touch of another person. 

Just when the tension became too much, just as it was about to crack, just as you saw his hand move to touch who knows what part of you, you ducked away from him, rubbing your arm awkwardly, “I should really get going to bed. Long day, y’know? But, um, thank you again for everything.” You lamely excused yourself, screaming at yourself to get a hold of your emotions. 

Tommy reached behind his neck with the hand he was going to touch you with, playing it off as if he were rubbing his neck, “Yes, yes, of course. Let me show you the guest room.” He offered, already beginning to walk towards the stairs before you stopped him. 

“Thank you,” You put your hands up panickedly, “But I think I remember where it was when I got changed earlier. But if I get lost, I’ll let you know.” You chuckled awkwardly, backing up slowly towards the stairs as you spoke. “Have a great night, Mr. Shelby.” 

Tommy watched in confusion as you made your way up the stairs, totally avoiding all eye contact with him. There it was. His last name again. Not Thomas anymore as it had been all day. Once your form disappeared around the wall, Tommy groaned and downed his whiskey in one huge gulp, slamming his glass down on the table. His fingers gripped the wood of the side table tightly as he hung his head down, trying to collect himself. He was slipping. Emotions were too high now, yours from being kidnapped, his from talking about Grace. Maybe it was for the best that nothing happened. 

When you made it to your room, you quietly but firmly closed the door, leaning against it while you sank to the ground. Your hands ran through your hair as you took a deep breath. Stop, take a breath, get yourself together. Touch deprivation, alcohol, emotional distress, actual attraction and reciprocated flirtation for the first time in a long time… it was all getting to you. But it was getting your guard down. You had to get a hold of yourself. 

This attraction to Tommy was unprecedented. Most other men you worked with were older or had comb overs or little mustaches that were just too small to look natural or were complete utter asses to you about your gender. But here Thomas Shelby was, right in front of you, non-discrediting, valiant, smart. A true equal to you. And his amazing looks didn’t hurt anything either. 

But it did. It hurt everything because with him, you let your walls come down, and you knew from experience that that could be disastrous. 

[songtoyou]

Chapter Two: Playful Conversations

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Fabiola Rossi (OC)

Story Rating: This story will mostly be rated 18+ as it is revolves around a relationship that is Dominant/submissive. For each chapter, I will do my best to rate it accordingly, but please know that the overall story will have very adult themes.

Chapter Rating: Rated R with a mix of 18+ towards the end.

Warnings: BDSM themes, bondage, swearing

Word Count: 3,173

Description: Huge “Ransom” Drysdale always thought of himself as a powerful man. With his family’s money and status, Ransom could get away with anything. He had the power and control others would envy. Ransom could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He was always in charge. He commanded attention. And he hated it. Never having a job in his life (thanks to his mother, father, and grandfather always there to supplement his bank account) or any real-life goals, Ransom felt incomplete and directionless. That is until Fabiola Rossi entered his life and turned it completely upside down.

A/N: I have not seen Knives Out. This is an AU of that world. I do not own any of the characters created by Rian Johnson. I have always thought of Ransom as a sub rather than a Dominant and this idea has been on my mind constantly that I needed to write it down. Anything in italics are to represent Ransom’s thoughts.

I do not permit any of my fics to be distributed on other sites without my permission.

Taglist:  @winchwm​ 

Updated for grammar and punctuation edits. 

“Just so you know, it is nothing like how ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ portrays it. That book and movie series is total bullshit and completely disrespectful to the BDSM community,” Fabiola expressed to Ransom and continued with, “There are a lot of elements that follow under the BDSM umbrella. Have you ever looked into BDSM or been interested?” 

What did Ransom know about BDSM or a D/s relationship? Nothing. Nothing at all. 

“Anything that had to do with bondage entailed me being the one doing the tying up. Nothing too hardcore. No pain involved. Just light choking or spanking. But again, I wasn’t the receiver. If I do actually agree to this, then I would be your submissive? What makes you think I even classify as one?” Ransom asked.

“Oh honey, you are a total submissive. You reek of submissiveness. It oozes out of you. That is nothing to be embarrassed about. Being submissive does not mean you are weak. Never equate submissiveness with weakness in a D/s relationship,” Fabiola explained.

Fabiola suggested he should read up on the subject and even said she would send over articles that could help him understand the concept of BDSM more thoroughly. “Here, put your number in my phone,” she instructed, handing the object over to him.

Ransom obliged and put in his phone number. Fabiola immediately began to text Ransom articles about BDSM and D/s relationships.

“Those articles are good to start with. I’ll also send over this BDSM test I found on the Internet. You should take it as it will help me, and you figure out what type of sexual deviant you are. Like, are you a pain slut, do you like degradation, etcetera?” Fabiola rambled off suggestively.

Ransom leaned in more towards Fabiola and recommended, “What if I don’t know what I like? A test isn’t going to help me figure it out since I most likely never done much of anything within the BDSM realm. I think it would best if we do some hands-on practices, don’t you think?”  

“So, you are saying you want to give this a try? I don’t want to force you to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing just so we are clear.”

“If I weren’t interested, I would have walked out that door. Hell, I wouldn’t even have asked you to meet me if I didn’t find you, not only beautiful but fascinating as well,” Ransom declared as he took one last sip of his drink.

“Okay. I still want you to do some research and tell me what you may be interested in, and we can go from there,” Fabiola stated as she began to put her things back in her messenger bag and suggested meeting up again next Saturday but at her place this time. “Will that give you enough time to read up on the subject more?” she added.

Ransom simply nodded his head.

Fabiola learned closer to Ransom and whispered in his ear, “Just so you know, it would in your best interest from now on to give me ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers. You will use your words with me, Baby Hughie. If not, then a nice ball gag will fit nicely in the pretty mouth of yours since you feel no need to use it.”

Once again, Ransom was stunned. This woman truly knew how to keep him on his toes. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants when she scolded and threatened him with punishment. It was the first real excitement Ransom felt in a long time.

“Yes,” he answered softly and wide-eyed.

Fabiola kissed Ransom on the cheek and told him, “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Be good for me, okay.”

“I will,” Ransom replied obediently.

With a smile on her face, Fabiola grazed her hand against his cheek and said, “Good boy.”

Before Ransom was to meet up again with Fabiola, he did as he was told and read the articles she texted. He learned about hard limits and started to think about what would be off-limits for him. Ransom realized a couple of the hard limits were golden showers (or anything we urine and feces), tickling, or needle play. He read about aftercare, which occurs after a scene where the dominant helps the submissive come down from “subspace.”

After reading and researching more about the overall ins and outs of a D/s relationship, Ransom felt comfortable taking the BDSM test Fabiola requested for him to take. The answering ranking for each question was “absolutely disagree,” “neutral/no opinion,” and “absolutely agree.”

The first question asked if he liked being dominated, especially in the bedroom. With Fabiola, it was something he was more than willing to give it a try, so he answered with “absolutely agree.” 

The second question was, “I like receiving pain during sex/BDSM and seeing the results of it (marks/bruises, makeup running by tears, etc.) afterward.” This one he had to give some thought. Again, he was willing to try but only put “neutral” as his response. 

Other questions on the tests ranged from “The idea of being tortured sexually, is appealing” to “I like to be sexually degraded and humiliated by my partner(s) sometimes,” which Ransom selected “absolutely agree” to both. 

His overall results were interesting, to say the least: 98% rope bunny, 94% degrade, 84% Submissive, 70% brat, 70% Masochist, 64% Slave, 53% experimentalist. He sent the results over the Fabiola to get an idea of what she might be working with.

Hi Ransom,

This helps. However, that does not mean that results can’t change when we eventually try things out. Again, I will make sure to go slow with you. I won’t force you to do anything you are not comfortable doing. 

I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.

Take care,

Fabiola

Ransom immediately wrote back, which he found kind of funny since he never replied quickly to emails or texts. He asked her out to dinner, hoping that the two could continue to get to know one another more. Ransom mentioned Sorellina, which offered Italian-Mediterranean cuisine. It was a very upscale restaurant in the Boston area, and Ransom was hoping it would impress Fabiola that he could offer to take her to such a fancy establishment. He would go all out to impress her, hoping that she would think of him worthy of keeping around.

The two texted one another frequently throughout the week, whether it be Ransom asking Fabiola questions about BDSM or partake in the mundane topic exchange. It was nice for Ransom to have someone he could converse with that was not a part of his usual crowd or trust fund babies or party-goers. Communicating with Fabiola helped Ransom keep himself occupied. He even began to write more, which took up most of his time that he did not have the energy to party or hang out with his stoner friends. 

Despite the pleading and temptations his friends offered to join in on the festivities, Ransom declined to cite that he was too busy. Instead, he continued to focus on writing as he wanted to show more of his work to Fabiola. Despite not knowing the younger very well, Ransom could not deny that he liked the compliment she gave him on his writing. He wanted her to praise him again like she did at the café. He kept fantasizing about what she would do to him the night they were to meet up again. Would she tie him up and edge him for hours? She mentioned that she wanted to meet up at her place, so that was an incentive to Ransom to wonder what she had in store for him.

The night before he was to meet up with Fabiola, he called her out of the blue. He wanted to hear her voice.

“Ransom, you okay?” Fabiola asked when she answered the phone. She was surprised to see his name come up, particularly at such a late hour at night.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything is good. I just wanted…just wanted to…talk. If that is okay?”

“Of course, that is okay. What do you want to talk about?” she inquired.

Letting out a deep breath, Ransom spoke, “I’ve been thinking about our possible arrangement…”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Fabiola asked worriedly.

“No! No, I’m not having second thoughts. Not at all. I have been thinking a lot about it, actually. I was just kind of hoping you could give me some insight into what I should be expected if that is okay?”

“Not a problem. Reading as many articles as you have this week doesn’t really give you the proper insight into the whole BDSM world. Also, don’t worry if you don’t understand everything your first week. You won’t be graded on anything,” Fabiola informed and continued with, “We’ll start off slow. But why don’t you tell me what you would like to try?”

Ransom shared that he did not mind being tied up but that he was a little nervous about anything pain-inducing. He also shared that his new fantasy was her denying him orgasms.

“I have a flogger that shouldn’t hurt you too badly. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna flog you until you bleed or anything. I tend to not take it that far. Thankfully, I am exceptionally good at edging my subs and controlling their orgasms. That is one of my favorite activities to play,” Fabiola teased over the phone. 

The two continued to talk over the phone, where the conversations ranged from discussing BDSM to mundane. Ransom beamed over the phone when he was able to make Fabiola laugh when retelling a story about the time he got locked out of the fraternity house he was “rushing’ during freshman year while naked and smeared with peanut butter all over his body.

“I got chased by the neighborhood dogs. They were trying to eat me. To this day, I have a phobia of dogs. My grandpa has two big German shepherds who always try to jump on me whenever I visit him. They have it out for me.”

“You poor thing,” Fabiola consoled while not being able to hold back her laughter. “I had a goat headbutt me in the stomach when I was five. It hurt so fucking bad.”

“Why were you around a goat?” Ransom asked, confused.

“Because I was tagging along with my older sister to one of her friend’s house, and the girl had a pet goat. I’m telling you, Ransom, the pain in my stomach from that headbutt was unbearable. Can you imagine being five years old and getting headbutted in the stomach by a fucking goat! Now that shit is traumatic,” Fabiola shared. She still remembers the feeling of having to walk home in excruciating pain after the goat incident.

“Okay, you win. I can’t beat that regarding animal encounters.”

“I think my sister has a beat. She got chased by a peacock one time when we were visiting the zoo with our friends. For some reason, the zoo we went to just had a peacock roaming around freely. Oh God, it was so funny. Too bad I don’t have that on camera,” laughed Fabiola.

Ransom let a chuckle as well. He felt comfortable and at ease while talking to Fabiola. 

“Can I ask you something personal?” asked Fabiola out of the blue.

“Only if I get to ask something personal back,” Ransom negotiated.

 “Okay. What did you want to be when you grew up?”

Ransom let out a chuckle. That was not the question he was expecting. “That is a little tame. I guess…I don’t know. I can’t remember. Why do you ask? Why do you want to know?”

“I just want to get a better sense of who you are. Finding out your hopes and dreams helps to do that. I…no offense, don’t think you necessarily wanted to be this trust fund bachelor for the rest of your life. You strike me as someone who likes their independence, so I am simply confused about why you would want to be beholden to your family’s wealth for income. Aren’t you ever worried that your grandfather or parents will cut you off one day?”

“Idle threats,” Ransom responded nonchalantly. “They would never go through with it.”

With a mere hum, Fabiola did not push the topic further, knowing she would not get much from Ransom. He was clueless to think he could mooch off his family for the rest of his life. She had overheard a conversation Charlie had with Harlan about Ransom. Fabiola was able to make out from the dialogue how Harlan seemed to be perturbed by Ransom’s mindless spending. Apparently, his grandson was spending up to $10,000 to $15,000 a month. Harlan was distressed on what Ransom could be spending all that money on, whether clothes or other mundane items. The Thrombey clan’s patriarch expressed worry and fear that he coddled and spoiled, but his favorite grandchild was partaking in unsavory activities, like drugs. However, it was never brought up in fear of finding out the truth. Denial and avoidance were two of the Thrombey/Drysdale clan’s favorite coping mechanisms. 

“Now, for my question,” Ransom was more than happy to change the subject. “What made you interested in BDSM?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that question,” said Fabiola with an eye roll and shake of her head, but continued, “To be honest, I have always had some fascination with seeing people tied up. I would say that started when I saw Madonna’s music video for ‘Human Nature’ where she is in a latex bodysuit and being a dominatrix to one of the dancers. She was also chained to a chair. She was so freaking hot back in the 90s. I guess that was my first time seeing BDSM imagery so out in the open. Of course, I didn’t know what it was actually referred to. It wasn’t until college when I started to learn more about it from a person who would be my first dom.”

Ransom sat up at the confession. “Wait! Hold up, you were a submissive?”

“Well, yeah. I was exploring and needed some guidance. It helped me realize that I am more of a domme than a submissive. I like being in control and having some at my complete mercy,” toyed Fabiola.

“You really are an enigma. I can’t quite get you figured out.”

“And with that, I will bid you goodnight. Sleep well, Baby Hughie.”  

“Look at you, all helpless and at my complete mercy. You look so delicious spread out. All tied up nice and pretty for me,” stated Fabiola as she paced back and forth at the foot of Ransom’s bed. She had tied him spread eagle on his bed with red rope. She laughed when he tried to tug at his binds. 

“You’re not going to be able to get out those ropes. This is your rightful place, isn’t it Ransom. Helpless and at my mercy.”

“Yes, it is Mistress. Thank you,” Ransom breathed out. His cock was stiffening as he tried to flex his hands and fit against the ropes. He could not remember a time when he felt so turned on and hard. 

“What color are you at, Ransom?” she asked to make sure he was still doing okay.

“Green, mistress,” he replied. 

“Good boy. However, I think something is missing. It does not quite feel complete,” Fabiola pondered with a head tilt. She went back to her closet of toys, took out a ball gag, and presented it to Ransom. Letting out a laugh, she got on the bed and sat between his legs. Inserting the gag in his mouth and tightening the straps to secure it in place, Fabiola sat back on her knees to look at the vulnerable man before her. 

“Beautiful,” she breathed out while running her hands up and down Ransom’s bare chest. “This is exactly how I pictured you the night I first met you. I knew you would be mine. Are you happy being mine, Ransom?”

Ransom nodded and tried to speak, but all he could get out was a muffled, “Yes.” 

Lying down beside Ransom, Fabiola draped her right leg over him and traced a finger against his gagged mouth. “It feels good tonight to not be in control, isn’t it, Ransom? To not have to worry about anything except to please me. To not have to make any decisions except to follow my orders. Your parents failed you, so this is where I come in to make sure you become the man you were always meant to be, Ransom.”

Giving him a wet kiss on his gagged mouth, Fabiola began to trail kisses down his neck to his stomach before stopping at his Adonis belt. She sat back on her knees once again to take him all in.

“Do you want me to suck you cock, Baby Hughie?”

Another muffled ‘yes’ from Ransom made Fabiola chuckle. “Of course, you want me to suck your cock. You are such a slut. You would probably allow me to do anything I wanted to do as long as you came. But guess what, you’re going to have to earn your orgasms from now, Baby Hughie. No more handouts. For the first time in your life, you are going to have to work for what you want,” Fabiola explained with a strong authoritative tone. 

Ransom tried to concentrate, but all he could think about was how hard his cock was at that moment. Fabiola could tell that Ransom was not paying attention to her, so she quickly slapped him right across his face. Ransom looked back at the woman before with a shocked expression on his face, letting out a groan at being slapped. 

“You better pay attention to me, little boy. I guess we are also going to have to work on your manners, you undisciplined little slut,” Fabiola berated him. God, he loved the degrading things she said to him. It only turned him more. 

“Now, I do want to give you a little taste,” she said, getting her mouth closer to the base of his cock. As Ransom tried to push his hips closer to Fabiola, he already felt like he was about to explode his load. He could not hold it any longer. The need to release was too excruciating. It was not long before Ransom felt himself cumming all over the bed and himself.  

He quickly sat up and looked around his room. No longer was he gagged or bound to the bed. Fabiola was nowhere in sight. Breathing heavily, Ransom sat up against the headboard. He checked under the covers and, low and behold, proof that it was all a wet dream.

“A wet dream. Really? What the fuck am I twelve. Jesus Christ!” Ransom berated himself as he got out of bed to discard his now soiled pajama pants and clean himself up.

He only hoped that his first night with Fabiola would be more fulfilling than the dream. 

[fostersffff]

Complete Black Eagle (read: Edelgard and Rhea) Thoughts

Now that I’ve finally finished both Silver Snow and Crimson Flower, I feel like I can put all of these thoughts out without worrying about a last minute twist. It’s entirely possible based on how much I’ve seen people talk about route differences that once I play Golden Deer and Blue Lions I’ll have changed my opinions, but barring some really wild and extreme stuff, I can’t imagine changing all that much. A ton of text under the break:

Edelgard

There was a Korean poll that was published recently where Edelgard was voted the #1 most disliked character in Three Houses... and also the #2 most liked character in Three Houses (behind Lysithea). It’s not a surprising result to see considering that she is the inciting antagonist, and that you don’t really understand why she does any of it unless you happened to start with the Black Eagles, but even then, IntSys felt it necessary to split Black Eagles into two routes, just in case you still didn’t want to side with her. But that’s what I think I found to be the most compelling thing about Edelgard: that she is a decidedly morally gray character, and how you feel about her comes down to looking at all of the things she does and asking “is this worth it?”

Part of what makes her so compelling to me is that no one understands her role better than Edelgard herself. She has no delusions about what she’s doing, and she never even makes an attempt to sugarcoat it to anyone around her. I made a post back when I first started the game about how I thought it was weird that her first support with Byleth ends with her talking about how she’s prepared to go down in the history books as History’s Greatest Monster without any context, but as the blanks fill in and time passes, it’s clear that she’s completely and utterly true to her word. "The ends justify the means” is the best description of her philosophy, but unlike a lot of characters (and people) who use that to justify their actions, she doesn’t take any solace in it, or use it as a way to offset the responsibility for all of the lives lost in the war. The end may justify the means, but it doesn’t make the means any less horrific, and even if the end result is a better world, it’s a small comfort to the countless people who died for it.

I think something crucial to sympathizing with Edelgard is that as far as she is concerned, she didn’t “initiate” hostilities with the church. When she kills Dimitri in the Crimson Flower route, she says “if only we were born in a time of peace, you might have enjoyed a joyful life as a benevolent ruler”, which sounds comically hypocritical in isolation coming from the person who declared war in the first place. But it’s because as far as she’s concerned, the systemic oppression resulting from the Church of Seiros’s influence on every Fodlan society means that true peace simply hasn’t existed since long before any of them were ever born. To Edelgard, there’s been a cold war between the Church of Seiros and humanity for a thousand years, and she took it upon herself to finally make it hot.

“Cold war” might sound exaggerated, but there’s something to that idea going on the evidence we’re presented with. At best, the church is ignorant to and/or idle on the suffering of the common folk and the corruption of the nobility all across the continent that exists because they grants noble status and political power to families that happen to have Crests. At worst, the church is intentionally passive about those problems because preserving the status quo and their absolute control is more important, and to act in any way to try to fix those problems directly could threaten their status as the center of power in Fodlan. Speaking of their control: isn’t it odd that the Church of Seiros was involved in each war for independence, maintaining their foothold in the old nation while also branching out and ensuring they were the dominant religion in the new ones? That the only time the church acts on their own (outside of an immediate threat like bandits) is when they are made aware of heresies, however mild, at which point they act decisively and without any shred of mercy, sending a sign to anyone who would dare try to cross the church? That, with the exception of Seteth and Flayn, the most devout members of the Knights of Seiros and the church have a fanatical devotion to Rhea specifically, and not Sothis or the doctrine of the church? The most insidious thing is that even if someone with the power to pose a threat to the church wanted to fight against them, the only people who could realistically muster up enough military might to challenge the Knights of Seiros would be nobles, and the fall of the church would also mean there would be nobody to legitimize their claims to nobility. Nobody would be willing to risk their noble status, and all of the perks that come with it, like that.

Except Edelgard.

This is actually what I like most about Edelgard, and why I was right to compare her to my favorite Fire Emblem villain: Zephiel. Zephiel’s goal in Fire Emblem 6 is the complete eradication of humanity and giving the world over to dragonkind, because he believes that humanity is a blight. He never says “I will lead this new world of dragons” or “My followers and I will live on to see the world of dragons”, which always led me to believe that he would eventually turn his sword on himself*. Edelgard, like Zephiel, does not intend to just conquer Fodlan and then just enjoy the spoils- once all of her affairs are in order (dismantling the church and nobility, re-establishing the church and turning nobility into a meritocracy, eradicating the Tunnel Snakes**) she finds a suitable successor (read: not her child) and then retires into the sunset (at least in the ending where she marries Byleth). And, if you don’t like Edelgard- or even if you do- this happy ending might rub you the wrong way, because even though her resolve was unshaken and she walks her path to the very end, it was still an incredibly violent path. This leads to another question that I’m sure people can argue forever: does Edelgard deserve to have a happy ending?

I’ve seen Edelgard described with a lot of terms that I don’t really think apply to her- like, at all- but I’d never seriously argue that she did nothing wrong. She is a dictator, and a warmonger, and regardless of which route you chose a tragic amount of life is lost as a direct result of her actions. Her alliance with the Tunnel Snakes is an entire can of worms of its own, because despite the fact that she has no control over what they choose to do on their own time, she is effectively still condoning their actions by relying on their power. The worst of it, as far as I’m concerned, is lying to her own people about who caused the destruction of Arianrhod and the loss of life there to prevent an internal conflict. I think with all that in mind, there are a lot of people who are locked into the conclusion that no, she doesn’t deserve to have a happy ending. 

But! To create the world she envisioned, one where Rhea was no longer manipulating the world from behind the scenes, a world that would improve the quality of life for everyone in future generations, she was never going to have a choice in how she did things. Think of how openly and casually Rhea talks about how enemies of the church must be eliminated, without any room for discussion. Would a diplomatic call for the Church of Seiros to disavow the current system of nobility based on the possession of crests and for Rhea to step down as archbishop be met with anything other than hostility not only from the church, but from the Kingdom and Alliance as well? Even something as simple as publicly renouncing her own faith to try to motivate a cultural change just within the empire would’ve probably had Rhea dispatching Catherine to cut her down for heresy, just like she did for Lord Lonato. And the final, most passive alternative- returning to the empire after graduating from the academy, ascending her father to become the next puppet of the cabinet, hoping that she eventually bears a child with a major Crest or else watch her own children undergo the same torture she and her family went through. That’s just completely unacceptable, especially when that kind of self-sacrifice is only to the benefit of the nobles and the preservation of a rotten status quo that also only benefits those same nobles- and Rhea, of course. No matter what, she was going to have to sacrifice, and while what she chose would involve the most bloodshed, it also had the best chance of making things better for the greatest number of people when all was said and done, so her getting to have at least one ending where she is completely successful and is rewarded on a personal level doesn’t strike me as inappropriate at all.

A lot of what I’ve talked about with Edelgard has to do with the church, which is inescapable considering every single action she takes is motivated by the church. So ultimately, one of the most important questions to consider when asking “is all of this worth it” is “is Rhea really that bad?” Well...

Rhea

This bitch is fucking insane holy shit.

It’s kind of a nice feeling to feel suspicious of a character from their introduction, only for things to actually be way worse than you could’ve ever expected. For what it’s worth, this isn’t a case of me hating the character on a writing level, it’s just that I find everything about her character to be loathsome even under the best possible circumstances.

What makes Rhea so despicable is how simple and selfish her entire motivation is. Every single action she takes and emotion she expresses can all be traced to an obsession with her mother. It’s not that she believes she needs Sothis’s guidance to deal with a problem that neither she nor the whole of humanity can’t deal with on their own, or that the world will only be at peace if Sothis is around to protect it, it is literally just for her own sake. And on its face, I can deeply sympathize with going to crazy lengths to want to see your mother after she was tragically taken away from you. I also love my mom! But there’s a bunch of lines- both explicitly stated and implied- Rhea sprints past at an Olympic pace that I (and hopefully most other people) would not cross. These include:

Having twelve children*** and trying to turn all of them into your mother.

Having a grandchild and trying to turn them into your mother.

Maintaining direct control and influence over multiple sovereign nations over a span of a thousand years so you can continue to try to bring back your mother without anyone bothering you.

Keeping your closest friends/relatives/allies out of the loop on all of your completely unethical experimentation because deep down inside you either know how fucked up it is, or that they would try to stop you.

Ordering your subordinates to burn down the city full of innocent bystanders you are currently occupying to try to kill the grandchild who you put your mother into.

The one that disturbs me the most is what’s implied by the ending of Crimson Flower. In Silver Snow, Rhea tells Byleth that they were stillborn, and that their mother begged Rhea to put the Crest Stone into Byleth to give them a chance to live. But at the end of Crimson Flower, Rhea’s death causes the Crest Stone on Byleth’s heart to fade away, which should result in their death. But after a few moments, their heart starts up normally and they go on living as normal. They lose Sothis’s power in the process, but they’re just as healthy as they were before they obtained it. This leads me to believe that Byleth may have actually been born healthy and that, after their mother had passed from complications due to childbirth, Rhea placed the Crest Stone on their heart anyway. Or- it’s even possible that Rhea killed the mother herself, removing her Crest Stone heart after sensing that Byleth might be a better vessel because of their parentage. After all, Rhea is the only person who truly knew what happened in there. Jeralt had no idea about the exact nature of Byleth’s heart, only that they had no heartbeat, and Seteth and Flayn didn’t know about anything at all. Obviously, that’s all just speculation, as far as I’m concerned something like this is totally in line with Rhea’s character.

Now, to revisit the question of “is Rhea really that bad”, Edelgard doesn’t know about any of Rhea’s personal fucked up shit. What she knows about is what the church has done and what has happened under their watch and thus with their implicit blessing, that Rhea is actually The Immaculate One, and that she has been the sole driving power of the Church of Seiros since the church was initially founded. On a personal level, her own life and the lives of all of her family members were destroyed by the Church of Seiros’s influence on society via crests. And it should be noted that Edelgard’s not stupid; she’s very likely aware that the Tunnel Snakes are the ones who performed the blood reconstruction on her and her siblings at the behest and/or with the consent of the Empire’s cabinet and Lord Arundel, and she even addresses how awful they are and that she really wants no part of them when she approaches Jeralt and Byleth as the Flame Emperor. But, back when I first suspected that Edelgard was the Flame Emperor, I made a joke about how she has to deal with the fact that the Tunnel Snakes are dabbing on a mountain of corpses while Rhea is cripwalking on an even bigger mountain of corpses. But that wasn’t accurate- it’s not just that Rhea’s mountain is bigger, it’s also composed of people who are still alive, but suffered because of the Church of Seiros: Dorothea’s childhood spent as a wretch because she was born a commoner, the abuse Bernadetta endured from her father to make her noble wife material, Caspar and Sylvain’s brother being shunned from their families for the crime of being born without a Crest, Lysithea suffering the exact same procedure as Edelgard to increase her family’s noble standing, Hanneman’s sister dying from trying to bear a child with a Crest, to say nothing of the characters I haven’t seen the stories of yet. In the grand scheme of the game’s universe, this is only a sample of about 30 characters: what about the potential hundreds of thousands of other lives with stories similar to- or possibly worse than- the main cast? And what’s more, Rhea is not gloating about how big her pile is. She’s so utterly preoccupied with her mother that doesn’t even notice the mountain beneath her, and that might actually be worse.

Both

Finally, I want to briefly touch on the way both characters interact with Byleth, and how they handle things when they’re made into the villain. No matter what route the player chooses, Byleth does something for Edelgard that she has never experienced before: unconditional protection. She was prepared to fight the bandit, and she saw him coming from a mile away so I imagine she could’ve handled it, but Byleth still jumps in front of her to protect her. This is why Edelgard puts so much stock into Byleth, much to the chagrin of Hubert. It’s not that she doesn’t trust that Hubert and the rest of the Black Eagles are capable of helping her, but to them, she is Edelgard von Hresvelg, heir apparent of the Adrestian Empire. Even if their friendships with her would suggest otherwise, there is an ocean of difference between them because of their stations. But to Byleth, she was “simply Edelgard”. She has never experienced that kind of interaction in her entire life, and especially not when there was danger involved. This is so ingrained in her that even in the route where you most directly oppose her, after having spent a full year getting to know and understand her and still choosing to fight against her, her last words are “I wanted to walk with you.” Even that phrasing- that she wanted to walk with them, not that she wanted them to walk with her- says so much about how strongly she feels about Byleth. Is it waifubaiting? Oh baby is it ever, but it doesn’t make it less solid

On the flipside: something I really genuinely hate in games (and stories in general, but it crops up the most in games) is when people have unflinching, unwavering faith in the player character for no good reason. It’s why I think Persona 4 is a worse game than 3 despite being better in almost every other meaningful way. This almost certainly has to do with me not liking Rhea from the start: appropros of seemingly nothing, she is as dotting as any mother would be, she entrust you with an entire class of students lives with zero credentials, and in addition to that she is constantly assigning Byleth the most important tasks because she just has so much faith that they’re destined for greatness. Unlike the situation with Edelgard, helping fight off some bandits is not reasonable precedent for trusting someone this much. And the biggest reason I appreciate Rhea as a villain is because all of this turns out to be a ruse. All of this is in service of currying Byleth’s favor, to get them to trust her, to make them feel special, so that when she asks them to sit on the throne so Sothis can take over their body, they wouldn’t think anything of it. And you know it’s all been a ruse because of how unbelievably fast her turn is if you side with Edelgard. There’s no consistency between the Rhea who gently stroked your hair and sang you a lullaby when you were recovering from your trip to the shadow realm and the Rhea who calls you a failure and is going to rip your heart out of your chest.

*I’m extrapolating a lot of information about Zephiel and the world of FE6 in general because we just don’t have access to as much lore as we do in Three Houses, but I think what I’m saying are reasonable conclusions

**I call Those Who Slither In The Dark “Tunnel Snakes” for a number of reasons: it’s shorter, it functionally means the same thing, and it’s funny to me

***I refer to the vessels Rhea created as her children because that’s what I understood them to be when I first played Silver Snow, but upon rewatching the cutscene what she actually says is “I tried to bring her back by creating a body, and then burying a Crest Stone within it”. This could mean her own children that she bore, but it could also mean a number of other things, like vessels “created” from normal humans she acquired. For my own headcanon, the utter detachment she shows for Byleth when they side with Edelgard leads me to believe that they are, in fact, her biological children, but she refers to them so clinically because she felt nothing for them except disdain for not being able to house Sothis.

[gryffindorcls]

Tell me about your Miraculous International AU! It sounds super interesting! 🤩🤩🤩

*cracks fingers back* Alright...you strapped in?  Because this AU is like one of those weird fever dreams that you’re definitely afraid to tell other people about in fear of being judged...but here we go anyway…

(Before I start...there are three big reasons that I abandoned this fic.  1) Because this explores the global and historical impact of the Miraculouses, it required several OCs.  2) It got really complicated really fast. 3) This quickly became what was going to be an epic three part saga, and honestly...I got overwhelmed.  So, I moved onto writing “Please Tell Me I’m Awake Right Now” instead.)

So, this AU explores a line that Master Fu said in Origins: Part 1.  Right after he gave the Miraculouses to Marinette and Adrien, Wayzz asked him, “Do you think they’ll be up to it, Master.”  Fu then responds by saying, “I only got it wrong once.  It will never happen again.  At least I hope not.”  I wanted to know more about the time that Master Fu got it wrong.

Now, we all know that there was some sort of disaster that destroyed the Guardian’s Temple that Fu was somehow involved in.  I’m treating these as two separate incidents.  In this AU, the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculouses were lost in the temple disaster.  A guilt-ridden Master Fu then spends years seeking out the perfect Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous holders to help him retrieve the lost Miraculouses.

He eventually finds who he believes are the perfect holders in Egypt circa 1925.  (Here’s where those pesky OCs come in.)  Their names are Mina Duncan and Marcus Gallagher.  Mina is the daughter of an English archaeologist helping to unearth the cursed tomb of Senenmut.  Marcus is the son of a wealthy American politician.  

Marcus’ brother died during WWI after meeting a French woman and having an “illegitimate” child with her.  Marcus is travelling the world to get away from his family who refused to acknowledge the existence of his brother’s child.  He felt it was unfair that the woman was left destitute despite his family’s wealth.  She couldn’t even give the child the last name Gallagher, and she had to settle with her maiden name:  Agreste.

Now, Marcus and Mina become “The Spotted Lady” and “The Black Cat”.  In his desperation, Fu is a little bit lax with the whole “no one can know your identities...not even each other” rule.  The two know each other’s identities immediately, and they fall hopelessly in love.  They get married, and try to start a family.  

Fu chose Mina because he learned about an ancient magical relic that could be used to search for things that are missing.  They find it, but they discover that the tortured soul of Senenmut is trapped inside the relic simply named “The Searching Stone”.  (Senenmut is real and does have a “curse” written on his tomb that says “His lifetime shall not exist on earth”.)  

They unleash Senenmut, and an epic fight ensues.  He is defeated, but Mina and their unborn child perish in the battle.  Marcus snaps, and combines the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses.  He wishes for Mina to always be with him.  Fu intervenes, and Marcus dies.  Mina wakes up, has their child, and mysteriously disappears.

Fu realizes the importance of protecting the Miraculouses after this.  He decides that he can’t do it alone, so he forms a secret organization called “The Miraculous Society”.  Maryanne is his second in command, and they establish highly guarded branches on every continent. The members consist of the descendants of past Miraculous holders.

Everything seems to be going well until WWII breaks out.  Hitler is historically known for being interested in the occult and supernatural.  The Nazis are after the Miraculouses and Fu goes into hiding, leaving “The Miraculous Society” to become corrupt from within.  

Fu doesn’t come back, and hides in Paris.  The Miraculous Society inadvertently causes the Cuban Missile Crisis during the Cold War, and a second secret organization named “Society for Leadership, Innovation, and Progress” (S.L.I.P. for short) is created to counter “The Miraculous Society”.  They are at war.

Fast forward to Paris present day, and Gabriel intends to put a second company headquarters in New York City.  He tells Adrien that he plans on having him move to NYC and run the company from abroad.  Adrien finally snaps.  He suddenly sees that his life is not his own, and he feels like he can’t escape.  He winds up blowing up at Nino and Alya who are trying to surreptitiously set him up with Marinette...again.  Marinette hears, and finally gives up on Adrien.  She becomes more confident around him, and works on becoming his friend instead.  Adrien winds up falling for Marinette, finding out she’s Ladybug, and not telling her that he knows...for like a year.  (This was going to be the slowest of slow burns.)

In the periphery, Gabriel was threatened by Marcus and Mina’s descendent who runs the North American Branch of The Miraculous Society.  (They have a connection to each other, so this isn’t out of the blue.  There are reasons for the threat, as well.  This woman is an even bigger villain than Hawkmoth, and she seeks world domination.)  She pressures him to hire her daughter.  Gabriel tries to use it to his advantage, and hires her as a junior executive assistant.  The girl gets put on “Adrien duty”.

The girl does not know that her mother set up her job with Gabriel.  The girl hates her mother, and ran away from her.  However, she grew up in “The Miraculous Society”, so she figures out that Adrien is Chat Noir immediately.  He gets involved with the secret society, and from there, chaos ensues.

My plan for this AU was to have Adrien find out that his father is Hawkmoth, Marinette to eventually find out that Adrien is Chat, Adrien to find out that he was a descendent of a past Black Cat Miraculous wielder, have Marinette need to be rescued, Mina and Marcus to be reunited, and for there to be an eventual happy ending.

Like I said, this was going to be a SAGA, but I abandoned it.  It was cool to think about, but it got out of hand really fast.  I decided to stick to the fluff fics that I wound up writing.

Anyway, I hope this makes some sense.  Along with getting a degree in education, I also have a history degree.  I wanted to incorporate history into Miraculous, but I got too ambitious.  I was like Icarus...I flew too close to the sun.

[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 12

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, Amelia stirred from her slumber, finding herself cradled in Lando's comforting embrace. The warmth of his body pressed against hers sent a wave of contentment washing over her, soothing her troubled mind. In that moment, as she lay tangled in the sheets beside the man of her dreams, Amelia felt a profound sense of peace and happiness. It was a simple pleasure, yet one she cherished above all else – waking up to the gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart against her own. With a soft smile gracing her lips, Amelia nestled closer to Lando, grateful for the love and security he brought into her life with each new day.

As Lando contemplated the weight of the truth he had uncovered, he knew that he couldn't keep it from Amelia any longer. She deserved to know the whole story, no matter how painful it might be. Yet, he also understood the delicate nature of the situation and realised that he couldn't confront Amelia with this revelation alone. George, despite his troubled history with Amelia, held the key to unlocking the secrets that had been hidden for so long. Reluctantly, Lando reached out to George, knowing that their meeting would be fraught with tension and uncertainty.

As Lando swung open the front door to welcome George into their midst, Amelia's gaze hardened with palpable disgust. Her features contorted with a mix of anger and resentment, her eyes narrowing into sharp daggers as they locked onto George's figure. In that moment, he represented everything she despised—the bearer of painful truths and the architect of her shattered reality.

Every fibre of Amelia's being recoiled at the sight of George, the very embodiment of deception and manipulation. It was he who had wielded the power to unravel the carefully constructed facade of her life, exposing the dark secrets that lurked beneath the surface. The mere presence of George served as a constant reminder of the betrayal and turmoil that had engulfed her world, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty and despair.

As George stepped across the threshold into the sanctuary of Lando’s home, Amelia's contempt burned like a raging inferno, consuming her from within. She resented the fact that he held the key to unlocking the truth, that he possessed knowledge that had the power to irrevocably alter the course of her life. He was the unwelcome messenger, delivering tidings of turmoil and upheaval, and she despised him for it with every fibre of her being.

Yet, beneath the veneer of her disdain lay a deep-seated fear—a fear of confronting the painful realities that lay buried within the depths of her past. Amelia knew that facing the truth would require her to confront her deepest insecurities and vulnerabilities, to confront the demons that had long haunted her dreams. And in George, she saw the embodiment of those demons, a constant reminder of the darkness that threatened to engulf her at every turn.

Sitting together in the elegant living room, Lando began to recount the events that had led him to unravel the truth about Amelia's past. With each word, the weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room.

Amelia listened in stunned silence as Lando revealed the shocking details of her kidnapping and the role her father had played in orchestrating the deception. Her emotions surged like a turbulent storm, alternating between disbelief, anger, and profound sadness. Yet, amidst the chaos of her emotions, there was a glimmer of relief in knowing that the truth had finally come to light.

As Lando concluded his account, he turned to George, silently acknowledging the pivotal role he had played in bringing the truth to the surface. For the first time, George appeared genuinely remorseful, his usual bravado replaced by a solemn sense of responsibility. With a sense of urgency, Amelia seized the opportunity to ask the questions that had been gnawing at her soul, her voice trembling with emotion as she sought to make sense of the shattered fragments of her past.

Amelia’s disgust was evident when Lando opened the front door for George. She hated the fact that George was the gateway for the information that turned her world upside down. When George entered the living room of the Norris home, his demeanour was softer and less questionable than usual. His intentions were pure this time around. He simply wanted to help her get the justice everyone deserved, especially the Mitchells.

“Well, I can’t say I’m happy that you’re involved.” Amelia's voice carried a heavy weight of resignation as she spoke, her gaze fixated on George with a mixture of weariness and disdain.

It was clear that his presence grated on her nerves, a constant reminder of the chaos and upheaval that had engulfed her life in recent days. Despite the gravity of the situation, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach at the sight of him.

With a weary sigh, Amelia shifted her gaze to Lando, her expression a silent plea for reassurance amidst the tumultuous storm that raged within her. She had always valued his steadfast presence, his unwavering support serving as a beacon of hope in even the darkest of times. And yet, as she stood on the precipice of a harrowing revelation, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation at the prospect of confronting the painful truths that lay buried beneath the surface.

“Believe me, I wish there was another way.” Lando interjected, his voice tinged with regret as he reached out to grasp Amelia's hand in a gesture of solidarity. “But George has proven himself to be an invaluable ally in uncovering the truth. And right now, that's exactly what we need.”

Amelia nodded in reluctant agreement, her features softened slightly by Lando's words of reassurance.

“So, what do you think would be the best way to expose Harold and the truth?” Amelia asked as she glanced between the two men in front of her.

Amelia's question hung heavy in the air, the weight of uncertainty palpable as she awaited a response from Lando and George. It was a pivotal moment, one that would dictate the course of their actions in the days to come. As she looked between the two men, she couldn't help but feel a surge of anxiety coursing through her veins, a nagging sense of doubt gnawing at the edges of her mind.

Lando furrowed his brow in deep contemplation, his mind racing with possibilities as he considered the best course of action. He knew that exposing Harold and revealing the truth would require a careful strategy—one that would minimise the risk of backlash and ensure that justice was served. With a thoughtful expression, he began to outline his plan, each word measured and deliberate as he laid out the steps they would need to take.

“First, we need to gather as much evidence as possible. That means digging into Harold's business dealings, tracking down any connections to Clyde Mitchells, and uncovering any incriminating evidence that could corroborate our claims.” Lando began, his voice steady and resolute.

Amelia nodded in agreement, her expression set with determination as she absorbed Lando's words. She knew that exposing Harold would require irrefutable proof, evidence that would withstand even the most rigorous scrutiny. With a sense of purpose driving her forward, she resolved to do whatever it took to uncover the truth, no matter the obstacles that lay in their path.

“And once we have the evidence, we'll need to go public.” Lando continued, his gaze unwavering as he met Amelia's eyes. “We'll need to ensure that the truth is heard far and wide, that there's no hiding from the consequences of Harold's actions.”

Adam stood just beyond the threshold of the study, his heart heavy with the weight of the conversation unfolding inside. As he listened to the trio discuss their plan to expose Harold, a sense of conflict gnawed at the edges of his conscience. On one hand, he felt a deep sense of loyalty to his best friend, Harold—a loyalty that had been forged over decades of shared experiences and mutual trust. Yet, on the other hand, he couldn't ignore the undeniable bond he shared with his son, Lando, and the fierce determination burning in his eyes.

For Adam, the situation presented an agonising dilemma—a choice between his loyalty to a friend and his duty as a father. He knew that whatever decision he made would have far-reaching consequences, shaping the course of their lives in ways he couldn't yet fathom. As he grappled with his conflicting emotions, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing at a crossroads, torn between two paths that seemed irreconcilable.

As the conversation inside the study continued, Adam found himself wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong, his mind racing with the weight of the decision he knew he had to make.

“If you need evidence, I’m sure I can help.” Adam announced as he stepped into the study.

Adam's sudden entrance startled the trio, their conversation abruptly halting as they turned to face him. Lando's expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and concern crossing his features as he regarded his father. Amelia's eyes widened with curiosity, while George watched Adam warily, uncertain of his intentions.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Lando asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

Adam took a moment to compose himself before responding, his gaze shifting between the three of them.

“I couldn't help but overhear your conversation.” he admitted, his tone sombre. “And I believe I may be able to assist you.”

Amelia's brows furrowed in confusion, while George remained silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Adam.

“If you need evidence to expose Harold and uncover the truth, I may have access to information that could be of use to you.” Adam continued.

Lando regarded his father with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. Amelia leaned forward, her curiosity piqued by Adam's offer, while George remained guarded, his expression unreadable.

“What kind of evidence?” Lando inquired, his voice laced with cautious optimism. Adam hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty.

“After all these years, after all the shady business I’ve done, I’ve built up reliable connections. That includes people who have knowledge of Harold's dealings, who could provide the evidence you need to expose him.” He explained carefully.

A sense of anticipation settled over the room as the implications of Adam's offer sank in. For Lando, Amelia, and George, it seemed that a glimmer of hope had emerged amidst the shadows of uncertainty. Yet, beneath the surface, lingered a sense of unease—an awareness of the risks and challenges that lay ahead.

“Mr Norris, I know you and my father have been great friends for a very long time. Please do not feel obligated to help if that means hurting your reputation.” Amelia's words were filled with sincerity as she addressed Lando’s father.

Adam's expression softened as he listened, a sense of warmth and understanding reflected in his eyes.

“Amelia, my loyalty to Harold does not outweigh my commitment to Lando as his father.” Adam responded, his tone measured yet resolute. “If aiding in this endeavour means holding those responsible for their actions, then I am prepared to do whatever is necessary. I can see how much this means to you both, so I will help as much as I can. You’re like a daughter to me, so it would only be an honour to assist.”

Amelia nodded in agreement, her appreciation for Adam's willingness to assist evident in her eyes. George remained silent, but a hint of gratitude flickered in his gaze as he regarded Adam.

“I understand the complexity of the situation, and I respect your friendship with Harold, Dad, but thank you. We’ll take all the help we can get.” Lando interjected, his voice steady.

Adam offered a reassuring nod, a silent acknowledgment of Lando's words. In that moment, a sense of unity and determination settled over the group—a shared resolve to pursue justice and expose the truth, regardless of the challenges they may face.

With a solemn expression, George retrieved a small, weathered envelope from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. The envelope, worn and creased with age, held the key to unlocking the truth they so desperately sought.

“Inside, you'll find documents that detail Harold's involvement in the events surrounding Clyde Mitchell's death. These are all original and no copies exist. My father hasn’t noticed that this is missing from our safe.” Georged confessed, his voice tinged with regret as he handed the envelope to Lando.

Lando accepted the envelope with a mixture of apprehension and determination. He could feel the weight of its contents pressing against his fingertips, a tangible reminder of the gravity of their mission. With careful precision, he opened the envelope and began to sift through its contents.

Within the folds of the envelope lay a collection of photographs, documents, and correspondence—evidence that painted a damning portrait of Harold's complicity in the tragic events of the past. Among the evidence were records of clandestine meetings, financial transactions, and witness statements corroborating Harold's involvement.

As Lando and the others examined the evidence, a sense of unease settled over them. The documents revealed a web of deceit and corruption, exposing Harold's true nature and the extent of his wrongdoing. Each piece of evidence served as a damning indictment of his actions, providing irrefutable proof of his guilt.

With each passing moment, the weight of the evidence grew heavier, its significance looming large in their minds. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, there was a glimmer of hope—a belief that justice would prevail, and the truth could finally be brought to light.

Later that afternoon, after George left and Adam retreated to his room, Lando found Amelia huddled on the sofa in his room watching the fire crackle in front of her. Lando approached Amelia with a sense of tenderness, his footsteps soft against the carpeted floor. He could see the weight of the day's revelations bearing down on her, her shoulders slumped and her expression etched with a mix of exhaustion and contemplation. Sitting beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, offering a silent gesture of comfort and support.

“Hey.” He murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm in the hushed tranquillity of the room.

Amelia turned to him, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames of the fire as they met his gaze. There was a vulnerability in her expression, a rawness that spoke of the emotions swirling within her.

“Hey.” She replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the crackling of the fire providing a backdrop to their thoughts. Lando could sense the turmoil raging within her, the myriad emotions vying for her attention. He wanted nothing more than to ease her burden, to offer her solace in the midst of the storm.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, his concern evident in his voice.

Amelia sighed, her breath hitching slightly as she released a pent-up tension. She leaned into Lando's embrace, seeking solace in his presence.

“I don't know. Overwhelmed, mostly.” She admitted quietly.

Lando nodded in understanding, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly. He knew that there were no easy answers, no quick fixes for the pain and uncertainty they were facing. All they could do was navigate the tumultuous waters together, drawing strength from each other along the way.

“I'm here for you, Milly.” He murmured, his words a whispered promise. “Whatever you need, I'm here.”

“What if he kills you?” Amelia suddenly asked, causing Lando to peer down at her.

The question hung heavy in the air, its weight palpable as it settled between them like a dense fog. Lando's expression softened as he regarded Amelia, his gaze unwavering despite the gravity of her words.

“I won't let that happen. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure we're both safe.” He reassured her, his voice firm with determination.

Amelia's brow furrowed in concern, her thoughts racing with the myriad of possibilities that lay ahead. The fear of retaliation loomed large in her mind, casting a shadow over their plans for justice.

“But what if he tries?” She pressed, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Lando's resolve remained steadfast as he reached out to gently cup her face in his hands, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of uncertainty.

“We'll be prepared. We'll take every precaution, every measure to ensure our safety. And if it comes down to it, we'll face him together.” He vowed, his tone unwavering.

Amelia's gaze softened at his words, a flicker of hope igniting within her chest. Despite the dangers that lay ahead, she found solace in the unwavering support of the man beside her, his presence a beacon of strength in the face of adversity.

“Fuck, I love you.” She whispered, her voice filled with gratitude.

Lando's heart swelled with emotion at her words, his own feelings echoing the sentiment she expressed. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before meeting her gaze with unwavering sincerity.

“I love you too, Amelia.” He murmured, his voice a soft caress against her ear. “More than anything.”

As their lips met in a tender embrace, a rush of warmth surged through Amelia, igniting a fiery passion within her. The crackling of the flames mirrored the intensity of their kiss, each flicker of light casting a glow upon their entwined forms. In that moment, all worries and doubts melted away, consumed by the heat of their desire.

Lando responded to her kiss with equal fervour, his hands gently caressing her face as he deepened the connection between them. Their love blazed brightly, casting aside the shadows of doubt and fear that had clouded their hearts. In each other's arms, they found solace, a sanctuary where they could lose themselves in the intoxicating bliss of their shared affection.

With gentle care, Lando cradled Amelia in his arms, her weight feeling light and precious against him. He carried her effortlessly to the bed, where he lowered her down with tender reverence. As she settled onto the soft mattress, he hovered above her, his gaze filled with adoration and desire.

Amelia's heart raced with anticipation as Lando leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. She reached out to him, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, craving the closeness only he could provide. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, speaking volumes of unspoken longing and devotion.

With a gentle touch, Lando brushed his lips against hers, igniting a fire that blazed to life between them.

“I had a dream once that started just like this.” Lando murmured against the skin of her neck in between tender kisses.

Amelia's breath caught in her throat as Lando's hands explored her with a gentle urgency, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins. His touch was electric, igniting a fiery desire that consumed them both. With each caress, he traced the contours of her body, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in his wake.

Her skin tingled at his touch, her senses heightened by the intensity of their connection. As his lips continued to pepper kisses along her neck and collarbone, she arched into his touch, her body responding instinctively to his every movement. In that moment, they were lost in a world of their own creation, a world where nothing else mattered but the passion that burned between them.

With trembling hands, Amelia reached for Lando, her fingers entwining with his as they sought solace in each other's embrace.

“Let me take care of you.” Amelia tells Lando. “You're always looking after me.”

“Take care of me?” He asked, confused as he watched her.

Amelia reached down and found his hardened cock trapped behind his jeans. Their passion ignited as Amelia's touch sent a jolt of desire coursing through Lando's body. He surrendered to the sensation, his breath hitching as she explored the contours of his desire. With each caress, he felt himself drawn deeper into the intoxicating dance of pleasure, his senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection.

“Milly, baby.” Lando moaned, his voice a husky whisper as he succumbed to the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over him. In that moment, there was no past, no future, only the exquisite sensation of her touch igniting a fire within him.

He flopped over on his back as she moved to unbutton and unzip his jeans. She positioned herself in between his legs and pulled down his jeans and briefs in one smooth movement.  With a soft groan escaping his lips, Lando surrendered to the exquisite pleasure of Amelia's touch. He watched with eager anticipation as she leaned down, her warm breath sending shivers down his spine. As she wrapped her hand around him, he felt a surge of desire coursing through his veins, his body responding eagerly to her gentle touch.

The sensation of her tongue tracing a path from the base to the tip sent waves of ecstasy washing over him, his breath catching in his throat as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. With each flick of her tongue, he felt himself spiralling closer to the edge, his senses consumed by the intoxicating rhythm of their desire.

Lost in the moment, he threaded his fingers through her hair, his touch gentle yet urgent as he urged her on. Every movement, every caress, sent sparks flying through his body, his skin tingling with anticipation as he surrendered to the exquisite sensation.

As she continued to tease and tantalise him, he felt himself teetering on the brink of ecstasy, his body yearning for release.

“Ah, that's nice.” He assured her, his voice laced with satisfaction. In that moment, all worries and concerns melted away, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of their connection.

Amelia's mind raced as she contemplated her next move. She wasn't one to perform oral sex, having disliked it immensely the one time she had tried. But in that moment, she felt an overwhelming desire to show Lando just how much he meant to her, to express her gratitude in a way that transcended words.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed aside her reservations and leaned down, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. She trailed soft kisses along his length, her touch tentative yet filled with determination. As she reached his tip, she hesitated for a moment before tentatively taking him into her mouth.

The sensation was foreign to her, yet she persisted, determined to give Lando the pleasure he deserved. She moved with cautious deliberation, her movements slow and deliberate as she explored his length with her tongue. With each passing moment, she felt a growing sense of empowerment, knowing that she was bringing him pleasure in a way that was deeply intimate and personal.

Despite her initial reluctance, Amelia found herself lost in the moment, her focus solely on the man before her and the overwhelming connection they shared. And as Lando's pleasure intensified, she felt a sense of satisfaction wash over her, knowing that she had succeeded in conveying her love and appreciation in the most intimate way possible.

As she continued to explore him with her mouth, Amelia focused on the sensations coursing through her, the taste and texture of him overwhelming her senses. She experimented with different techniques, using her tongue to tease and tantalise him, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Lando's lips.

“Baby, I'm going to cum in your mouth if you keep doing that.” Lando murmured his warming to her.

Amelia paused for a moment, savouring the intimacy of his words, before resuming her ministrations with renewed determination. She adjusted her technique, focusing on the sensitive areas that she knew would drive him wild with pleasure.

As Lando's arousal grew, Amelia felt a surge of excitement coursing through her, knowing that she was the cause of his overwhelming pleasure. She continued to work her magic, using her mouth and tongue to bring him to the edge of ecstasy.

Lando didn't want to cum in her mouth. He pulled her up and hastily removed her leggings. He was too eager to wait and pushed her panties aside before thrusting into her. A deep groan left her lips as he flipped them over, with her laying on her back.

Amelia's breath caught in her throat as Lando's urgency swept over her, igniting a fire of desire within her. She arched her back, offering herself fully to him as he entered her with a force that left her gasping for air.

“Want to cum inside you, baby.” He informed her in between sloppy kisses.

“Yes, Lan.” Amelia conceded, swept up in the pleasure of feeling him inside her.

As he began to move inside her, the sensation of his powerful thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, each movement driving her closer to the edge of ecstasy. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper into her as they moved together in perfect harmony.

Their bodies moved in sync, each movement bringing them closer to the brink of pleasure. Amelia's moans filled the room, a symphony of desire that echoed in the air as they surrendered to the intensity of their passion.

After several fast thrusts, Lando released his cum inside of her. Amelia clung onto him as he shook from pleasure, her nails digging into the skin of his back as he continued to thrust lazily. As their breathing slowed and their heartbeats steadied, Amelia found herself lost in the depths of Lando's gaze, her soul laid bare before him.

“Fuck.” He moaned once more, hovering over her before pulling out. “Now you, baby.”

“No, Lan. That was for you. I wanted to take care of you.” Amelia insisted, offering him a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with affection.

“But, you didn't finish.” Lando pointed out, his brow furrowed with worry.

“I don't have to. Watching you cum was enough excitement for me.” Amelia replied softly, her tone laced with sincerity.

“Are you sure?” Lando's expression softened as he realised the depth of her love and selflessness.

“Certain.” Amelia affirmed, her gaze unwavering.

“Let me clean you up at least?” Lando insisted to which Amelia nodded.

Lando retreated into his ensuite bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water. He returned to the bed and gently wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking from Amelia's thighs. He then proceeded to wipe himself down and pulled up his briefs to his hips once again.

As Lando helped her get dressed, a fleeting thought crossed his mind about the possibility of pregnancy resulting from their intimate encounter. It was a natural concern, given the intimacy they shared and the potential consequences that could follow.

“Do you think you could get pregnant?” Lando asked, his tone earnest yet slightly hesitant.

“I'm sorry, what?” Amelia replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Do you think you could get pregnant?” Lando reiterated, his expression reflecting a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Uh, I don't know, Lan. I doubt I could, considering I'm on birth control.” She explained, trying to sound reassuring despite the lingering uncertainty.

“Okay.” Lando acknowledged, his tone softening as he processed her answer.

The expression on his face allowed Amelia to put two and two together and she decided to tease him about it.

“Tell me, Mr Norris, do you want me pregnant, carrying your baby?” She wondered.

Amelia's question took Lando by surprise, his cheeks flushing slightly as he processed her words. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond to her inquiry.

“Stop, you make that sound sexier than it should be.”  Lando replied, attempting to deflect Amelia's question with a playful remark.

Despite his attempt at levity, he couldn't shake the subtle undercurrent of arousal that coursed through him at the thought of such an intimate scenario.

“God, Lan, do you have a breeding kink?” Amelia pressed further, her tone teasing yet curious.

“What? No.” Lando replied quickly, his voice betraying a hint of defensiveness. He struggled to find the right words to articulate his feelings, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.

As Amelia studied him, her gaze unwavering, Lando couldn't help but feel a pang of vulnerability. He knew that their intimate conversations often delved into uncharted territory, but the topic of pregnancy and parenthood struck a particularly sensitive chord within him.

“Look, Milly, it's not like that.” Lando began, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “I mean, sure, the thought of... of us, you know, creating something together, it's... it's kind of... exciting.” He admitted, his words trailing off as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

“You want to have my babies, Lan?” Amelia continued to tease him.

Amelia's playful banter brought a smile to Lando's face, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and desire. He couldn't deny the rush of excitement that coursed through him at the thought of starting a family with her, their shared intimacy deepening with each passing moment.

“All of them.” Lando replied with a mischievous grin, his voice laced with anticipation.

The prospect of fatherhood filled him with a sense of purpose and joy, the idea of creating a life with Amelia igniting a flame of passion within him. Amelia's touch was gentle yet electrifying as she cupped Lando's cheek, her lips meeting him in a tender kiss. In that moment, their connection felt unbreakable, their love transcending words as they shared their hopes and dreams for the future.

“You’d make a wonderful Daddy for our babies.” Amelia remarked, her voice filled with affection as she gazed into Lando's eyes.

Lando's heart swelled with love for her, his desire to build a life together growing stronger with each passing moment. He couldn't wait to embark on this journey with her, to experience the joys and challenges of parenthood hand in hand.

“Alright, just fuck me again so I can put a baby in you.” Lando teased, his playful tone belying the depth of his longing.

Amelia's laughter filled the room as she straddled him, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

[mst3kproject]

The Mask of Satan

Like a number of MST3K films, The Mask of Satan has multiple titles – it also goes by Black Sunday and Revenge of the Vampire.  The cast includes Ivo Garrani and Arturo Dominici, both of whom were in Hercules, and it was directed by Mario Bava, who worked on Hercules, Hercules Unchained, and Danger: Diabolik.  It’s an overwrought and highly riffable film – even the opening credits invite you to make fun, what with their announcement that this is ‘A Galatea Jolly Picture’ and the mention of a company called ‘Titanus’.  I can only imagine the reaction of the bots.

Three hundred years ago a vampire, or maybe a witch, named Asa was burned at the stake along with her boyfriend Igor.  As she dies, Asa cursed the head inquisitor, who happened to be her brother, and told him she would have her revenge.  Fast forward to the nineteenth century.  A couple of doctors are on their way to a medical conference in Moscow when they happen across Asa’s tomb, and one of them accidentally allows some blood to fall on her, which brings her back to life. As foretold in her own curse, she sets out to destroy her brother’s descendants, which of course include Katya, a young woman played by the same actress as Asa.  That’s just how movies work.

While many movies that were on MST3K were bottomlessly cheap, The Mask of Satan was clearly fairly expensive: there are large, elaborate sets and detailed costumes, all too obviously artificial to really be convincing but impressive nevertheless. A few of the effects, like Asa’s eyes growing back in her skull or the ground buckling as Igor rises from the grave, are really cool.  Even the mediocre ones do their job, and the only real effects failure is the fakest rubber bat this side of Samson vs the Vampire Women.  This is obviously where most of the budget was spent, and they got what they paid for.

There’s also one really well-handled story element, which is when Asa makes one of the doctors, Kruvajan, into her undead slave. His inability to resist her makes us earnestly worried for his younger colleague Andre later in the film, and actor Andrea Checchi is really creepy, clearly distinct from the living version of Kruvajan, and yet still makes us believe that the other characters don’t find his behaviour suspicious.  Without any hesitation, this is the best performance, live or dubbed, in the movie.

Other aspects of The Mask of Satan are not nearly so well-done.  The sound, for example, is very odd.  More than once we hear wailing wind in shots without a single leaf stirring in their ‘creepy woods’ stock footage.  In other places where ambient sound might heighten the atmosphere, such as the first few moments of the terrified milkmaid on her way to the barn, the film is eerily silent.  Katya’s appearance is always accompanied by sweeping romantic music, even in the first scene where she’s supposed to be threatening – in one spot, she actually plays her own love theme on the piano.  There’s a bit where Asa clearly calls out Igor’s name, but the dub people didn’t bother adding it.

Also weird is that nobody in this movie, or at least nobody responsible for the dubbing, knows the difference between a dragon and a griffin, let alone a vampire and a witch.

The actual plot, as you may have noticed, is a list of tropes: identical descendants, history destined to repeat itself, love at first sight, and so forth, very little of it really justified in the story beyond assuming that everybody knows how these things work.  Old classics like the trapdoor spike pit and the pitchfork-wielding mob make completely straight-faced appearances. Characters speak lines and lines of exposition that doesn’t even try to sound like natural conversation.  In particular, Katya’s father spends most of his time on screen telling other people things they must already know.  Andre falls in love with Katya the moment he sees her, because the writers are too lazy to build up an actual emotional bond between them.  And surely it’s just a coincidence that casting the same actress as both Asa and Katya also saved money for the film-makers!

The writing is incredibly contrived.  Asa’s awakening, for example: having happened across the cemetery, one of the doctors explains to the other that the soul of a witch is kept down by a stone cross above her coffin.  Moments later, he is attacked by a bat out of nowhere (no explanation for this is ever given, although the movie acknowledges that it’s mysterious) and smashes both the cross and some glass in trying to scare it off, thus allowing his blood to drip onto the corpse.  This sounds kind of forced when I write it out, and believe me, it’s even more so in the movie.

Not so bad but still pretty awkward is the discovery of the secret passage behind the fireplace.  This feels like it really ought to be the result of careful searching but instead it’s a complete accident when a curtain catches on fire. There isn’t even any hint of a supernatural explanation for this as there was for the bat.  It just happens, and by very good luck it is exactly what the characters need!  The movie also leaves open the question of how anybody used the secret passage without wrecking the painting that covers the lever.  Again, no explanation is ever offered.

Like Samson vs the Vampire Women, The Mask of Satan tells us that we are looking at events of the past that are destined to be repeated.  Asa even says as much to Katya – this young woman was born to aid Asa’s resurrection, and she has no purpose in the world outside of that.  This leads to the most annoying thing in the movie: Katya is a complete cipher.  Like Helen in Revenge of the Creature, you could replace her with an object and the story wouldn’t change.  She could be a mystical book or magic amulet, anything the villains want to get and the heroes therefore need to keep.

Only once is the possibility raised of Katya having a life outside the movie: when Asa taunts her by telling her that Andre’s love for her could have saved her.  Even as a hypothetical free woman, Katya is still a possession, a thing – she can belong to Asa, or to Andre.  She cannot save herself because she has no will of her own.

In spite of this statement, Andre isn’t even the one who saves Katya!  He manages to break Asa’s hypnotic hold on him when he realizes Katya is wearing a cross, which Asa would be unable to do, but then he just sits around weeping and being comforted by a priest while the torch-wielding villagers run in to seize Asa and burn her at the stake.  It is only with Asa’s death that Katya is truly ‘saved’.  Andre didn’t defeat the undead Kruvajan – the priest did that. He didn’t kill Igor – Katya’s brother Konstantin did that, before dying, himself.  We’re supposed to believe Andre is the hero of this movie when he did basically nothing for the entire running time!

So the protagonists of this movie are completely useless, and don’t even have any romantic chemistry – hence the ridiculous music that always accompanies Katya, trying to make up the lack.  That doesn’t have to kill a movie.  One of my favourite old horror movies, Countess Dracula, has useless heroes, and I still enjoy it very much because the villains of that story are very compelling.  Likewise with most of Hammer’s Frankenstein movies, dominated by Peter Cushing’s doctor while the so-called ‘heroes’ merely revolve around him.  But the villains of The Mask of Satan aren’t particularly interesting, either.  Igor has nothing to him.  He wanders around looking like Vlad the Impaler and doing Asa’s bidding, but he has no personality.  Maybe this is intentional because he’s her zombie slave.  Asa herself does some monologuing, but is never particularly intimidating, possibly because she spends most of the movie lying flat on her back in a crypt while other people do her bidding.

The Mask of Satan presents women in general as very passive creatures.  Katya is a helpless victim, and even Asa, who ought to be the driving force of evil, sits around and lets others do her work. While Katya obeys orders, Asa gives them, which is supposed to establish her as evil by reminding us that women aren’t supposed to be in charge of anything.  The only other female characters with speaking roles are the milkmaid, who exists to passively watch some evil goings-on and then report them to the male characters, and her mother, a servant.  It is abundantly clear that the writers expect women to help the men and do as they’re told.

This is a pretty dull movie, all things considered. It launched the careers of both director Mario Bava and star Barbara Steele, but since he spent the rest of his career making Hercules movies and she went on to be in things like Nightmare Castle and The She-Beast (as distinct from the She-Creature), neither exactly became a name you’ll hear mentioned at the dinner table.  Despite some nice effects and effectively creepy moments, The Mask of Satan is not very engaging, egregiously sexist, and overall blandly forgettable.

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

what she says: i'm fine.

what she means: lotor, despite much of the fandom's insistence, is far from his father's son. he establishes himself as principled and opposing the galra empire from his very first moment of introduction in s3e1, when he condemns it for subjugating its colonized people and controlling them through fear when it would be more effective (and moral) to accept them as equals and allow self-rule. lotor gives this speech to an entire arena of ruthless galra empire soldiers, who believe that every ideal coming out of his mouth is a sign of weakness; galrans like throk were planning to seize power for themselves and usurp lotor precisely because of these perceived weaknesses.

this speech, while charismatic, does not set up lotor as a genius manipulator hungry for power--in fact, it says something entirely different, that lotor genuinely believes in the ideals he is claiming and will not compromise them for power's sake. otherwise, he ought to have appealed in the most effective way by preaching the strength of galran might and cruelty and striking down throk where he lay.

indeed, lotor opposes and despises the very aspects of an empire that foster tyranny and cruelty. one of the greatest evils of imperialism is the deliberate destruction of a colony's native cultures and people in order to quash rebellion and nationalism. lotor, however, values individuals, their cultures, and their need for self-determination, seen in his advocacy and practice of self-rule even in an arena (and universe) dominated by a people who consider the very concept disgusting; his hatred for haggar, particularly for her methods of exerting absolute control over other people (even accusing zarkon, who before was portrayed as the figure of ultimate evil in the universe, of simply being a puppet for haggar's machinations); his generals that he fights alongside "like a lowly private," all sneered at for being half-galra or less; his confession about the first planet he had ever been assigned to, in which he worked alongside their leaders, learned their customs, and only harvested quintessence sustainably; and his deep conviction that his altean heritage is a strength, despite his father and entire society insisting that it makes him weak, and spending centuries traveling the universe in search of the remnants of the culture his father destroyed.

many also try to argue that lotor should be reviled for being a cold-blooded murderer. however, one should acknowledge that team voltron are more than likely murderers as well after a fashion, killing the same sort of people. the story also makes it clear that lotor experiences guilt after killing someone, does not do so unless he believes it necessary to his survival (or part of haggar's plans), and finds the galra empire's sadism reprehensible. there are multiple situations in which any other galra would've performed cruelty with deliberate glee, but which lotor is far from-- puig, in which his second-in-command acxa explicitly orders them to "kill no one" despite the planet's alliance with voltron; throk, who, although deceived, is not publicly executed to quell threats to lotor's power as throk and everyone in the arena expected (and would certainly have done themselves); his fights with voltron, in which lotor tests whether he can expect them to survive the transreality rift and nothing else; zethrid's aggressive impulses, which lotor frequently and repeatedly check; and the months in between s3 and s4, in which lotor is confirmed by both team voltron and haggar to have essentially vanished and abandoned the emperor's duties.

in fact, there are only three occasions where it's confirmed that lotor killed someone-- raht (the spy haggar sent to observe him in s3e5), narti, and zarkon. on all occasions, lotor believed (correctly for the first two) that haggar was using them, and it's well-established that lotor despises haggar and her puppetry to a high degree. raht, as the average galran officer, and zarkon, for obvious reasons, are people we're meant to have little sympathy for; most of the contention comes with narti's death in s4e3. however, at that moment, lotor's base was under attack by several galran fleets, and his life, the lives of his generals, and the sincline ships were in direct danger. considering his childhood, the circumstances of his exile, his opposition to the empire, and the knowledge that both haggar and zarkon were completely comfortable with and indeed ordered for his death, one can safely judge that lotor is not a healthy character, and that his life has been dominated by survival and the expectation that the galra empire will eventually destroy anything he tries to accomplish if he does not thwart them first with extreme prejudice (his certainty that there's a spy after only 3 detected anomalies in a day in s3e5, and his instant assumption that bugs must have been placed on their ship in s4e3). he concludes that narti betrayed them as the only person to have come with him to galra central command, either by botching the scans for bugs or otherwise; narti is directly threatening his life and plans; he must kill narti immediately.

after all 3 murders, lotor displays signs of guilt despite some insistence that he doesn't experience any. after killing raht, his following confrontation with haggar is comparatively much more impulsive and characterized by an outburst of anger when lotor is more commonly restrained, even when accused of the exact same thing in s5e1 by allura (being like his father). both narti and zarkon's deaths are followed by periods of listlessness and apathy.

when he comes to after being stunned by acxa, he doesn’t respond with outrage or violence. he simply says, “i understand, zethrid--you do what you must. and i’ll do what i must,” ejects zethrid, and flees without further attack. his intent, like his generals, is survival, and is the farthest from lashing out against the betrayal than any other galran officer would be.

indeed, lotor is far from his father's son--and the implications that lotor is somehow reprehensible and deserves the amount of vitriol he commonly receives, simply because he has his own plans/methodology separate from team voltron and the shallow but frequent take of Gray Morality™ from his fairly complex character, betrays tumblr culture's tendency to demand black-and-white morality from content producers.

(this could also be compared to the collective hatred of "kuron/clone shiro/fake shiro/#not my shiro" when it can be concluded since his first appearance that he's more than likely "the real shiro," namely because haggar would otherwise have no reason to believe that shiro was even missing in the first place. team voltron didn't realize until they were in the black lion themselves, and they certainly would've tried to conceal it afterwards. why send a spy to infiltrate a team if you think the person you're trying to imitate is still there? at the very least, he has the exact same memories and desires as "the real shiro," would not be conscious of anything wrong about his behavior if it is at all influenced by something, and is therefore hardly to blame for anything about his current circumstances.)

[coloradoron]

Newt Gingrich will not Accept Joe Biden as President

Why I will not accept Joe Biden as president

Unwillingness to accept election result grows out of a level of outrage unlike anything previously experienced

By Newt Gingrich - - Washington Times, Monday, December 21, 2020

ANALYSIS/OPINION:

A smart friend of mine who is a moderate liberal asked why I was not recognizing Joe Biden’s victory.

The friend made the case that Mr. Biden had gotten more votes, and historically we recognize the person with the most votes. Normally, we accept the outcome of elections just as we accept the outcomes of sporting events.

So, my friend asked why was 2020 different?

Having spent more than four years watching the left #Resist President Donald Trump and focus entirely on undoing and undermining the 2016 election, it took me several days to understand the depth of my own feelings.

As I thought about it, I realized my anger and fear were not narrowly focused on votes. My unwillingness to relax and accept that the election was over grew out of a level of outrage and alienation unlike anything I had experienced in more than 60 years involvement in public affairs.

The challenge is that I — and other conservatives — are not disagreeing with the left within a commonly understood world. We live in alternative worlds.

The left’s world is mostly the established world of the forces who have been dominant for most of my life. My world is the populist rebellion which believes we are being destroyed, our liberties are being cancelled and our religions are under assault. (Note the new Human Rights Campaign to decertify any religious school which does not accept secular sexual values — and that many Democrat governors have kept casinos open while closing churches though the COVID-19 pandemic.) We also believe other Democrat-led COVID-19 policies have enriched the wealthy while crushing middle class small business owners (some 160,000 restaurants may close).

In this context, let’s talk first about the recent past and the presidency.

In 2016, I supported an outsider candidate, who was rough around the edges and in the Andrew Jackson school of controversial assaults on the old order. When my candidate won, it was blamed on the Russians. We now know (four years later) Hillary Clinton’s own team financed the total lie that fueled this attack.

Members of the FBI twice engaged in criminal acts to help it along — once in avoiding prosecution of someone who had deleted 33,000 emails and had a subordinate use a hammer to physically destroy hard drives, and a second time by lying to FISA judges to destroy Gen. Michael Flynn and spy on then-candidate Donald Trump and his team. The national liberal media aided and abetted every step of the way. All this was purely an attempt to cripple the new president and lead to the appointment of a special counsel — who ultimately produced nothing.

Now, people in my world are told it is time to stop resisting and cooperate with the new president.

But we remember that the Democrats wanted to cooperate with Mr. Trump so much that they began talking about his impeachment before he even took office. The Washington Post ran a story on Democrat impeachment plots the day of the inauguration.

In fact, nearly 70 Democratic lawmakers boycotted his inauguration. A massive left-wing demonstration was staged in Washington the day after, where Madonna announced she dreamed of blowing up the White House to widespread applause. These same forces want me to cooperate with their new president. I find myself adopting the Nancy Pelosi model of constant resistance. Nothing I have seen from Mr. Biden since the election offers me any hope that he will reach out to the more than 74 million Americans who voted for President Trump.

So, I am not reacting to the votes so much as to the whole election environment.

When Twitter and Facebook censored the oldest and fourth largest newspaper (founded by Alexander Hamilton) because it accurately reported news that could hurt Mr. Biden’s chances — where were The New York Times and The Washington Post?

The truth of the Hunter Biden story is now becoming impossible to avoid or conceal. The family of the Democrat nominee for president received at least $5 million from an entity controlled by our greatest adversary. It was a blatant payoff, and most Americans who voted for Mr. Biden never heard of it — or were told before the election it was Russian disinformation. Once they did hear of it, 17% said they would have switched their votes, according to a poll by the Media Research Center. That’s the entire election. The censorship worked exactly as intended.

Typically, newspapers and media outlets band together when press freedom is threatened by censorship. Where was the sanctimonious “democracy dies in darkness?” Tragically, The Washington Post is now part of the darkness.

But this is just a start. When Twitter censors four of five Rush Limbaugh tweets in one day, I fear for the country.

When these monolithic Internet giants censor the president of the United States, I fear for the country.

When I see elite billionaires like Mark Zuckerburg are able to spend $400 million to hire city governments to maximize turnout in specifically Democratic districts — without any regard to election spending laws or good governance standards — I fear for the country.

When I read that Apple has a firm rule of never irritating China — and I watch the NBA kowtow to Beijing, I fear for our country.

When I watch story after story about election fraud being spiked — without even the appearance of journalistic due diligence or curiosity — I know something is sick.

The election process itself was the final straw in creating the crisis of confidence which is accelerating and deepening for many millions of Americans.

Aside from a constant stream of allegations of outright fraud, there are some specific outrages — any one of which was likely enough to swing the entire election.

Officials in virtually every swing state broke their states’ own laws to send out millions of ballots or ballot applications to every registered voter. It was all clearly documented in the Texas lawsuit, which was declined by the U.S. Supreme Court based on Texas’ procedural standing — not the merits of the case. That’s the election.

In addition, it’s clear that virtually every swing state essentially suspended normal requirements for verifying absentee ballots. Rejection rates were an order of magnitude lower than in a normal year. In Georgia, rejection rates dropped from 6.5% in 2016 to 0.2% in 2020. In Pennsylvania, it went from 1% in 2016 to .003% in 2020. Nevada fell from 1.6% to .75%. There is no plausible explanation other than that they were counting a huge number of ballots — disproportionately for Mr. Biden — that normally would not have passed muster. That’s the election.

The entire elite liberal media lied about the timeline of the COVID-19 vaccine. They blamed President Trump for the global pandemic even as he did literally everything top scientists instructed. In multiple debates, the moderators outright stated that he was lying about the U.S. having a vaccine before the end of the year (note Vice President Mike Pence received it this week). If Americans had known the pandemic was almost over, that too was likely the difference in the election.

The unanimously never-Trump debate commission spiked the second debate at a critical time in order to hurt President Trump. If there had been one more debate like the final one, it likely would have been pivotal.

This is just the beginning. But any one of those things alone is enough for Trump supporters to think we have been robbed by a ruthless establishment — which is likely to only get more corrupt and aggressive if it gets away with these blatant acts.

For more than four years, the entire establishment mobilized against the elected president of the United States as though they were an immune system trying to kill a virus. Now, they are telling us we are undermining democracy.

You have more than 74 million voters who supported President Trump despite everything — and given the election mess, the number could easily be significantly higher. The truth is tens of millions of Americans are deeply alienated and angry. If Mr. Biden governs from the left — and he will almost certainly be forced to — that number will grow rapidly, and we will win a massive election in 2022.

Given this environment, I have no interest in legitimizing the father of a son who Chinese Communist Party members boast about buying. Nor do I have any interest in pretending that the current result is legitimate or honorable. It is simply the final stroke of a four-year establishment-media power grab. It has been perpetrated by people who have broken the law, cheated the country of information, and smeared those of us who believe in America over China, history over revisionism, and the liberal ideal of free expression over the cancel culture.

I write this in genuine sorrow, because I think we are headed toward a serious, bitter struggle in America. This extraordinary, coordinated four-year power grab threatens the fabric of our country and the freedom of every American.