#great speech and more people need to speak out

[subdee]

Absolutely spot on, there is too much complacency and 'it can't happen here' in the USA right now.

It CAN happen here. It IS happening here.

The budget for "election security" was removed from the Department of Homeland security. They argued it was outside that department's purview.

There's another department that also handles election security at the federal level... Guess what?

From the Project 2025 tracker.

And look, I know cybercom is the same department that carries out cyber attacks against foreign adversaries. I know the US government and particularly the US intelligence agencies that are being dismantled as we speak (CIA, FBI, NSA, Pentagon have all seen big indiscriminate workforce reductions, forced leaks, or destruction of internal databases) have done a lot of evil, heinous shit, both domestically and - especially- abroad. The US does a lot of regime change, you know it, I know it.

But what's the end game of the current regime?

Take money from the part of the federal budget that is discretionary and works for ordinary Americans - the SMALL part of the budget that is discretionary and works for ordinary Americans - and redirect it to AI contracts that Elon Musk will benefit from, Starlink and SpaceX contracts that he will benefit from, so he can pay off the massive loan he took out to buy twitter?

Go after renewable energy SPECIFICALLY, freeze a program that passed with bipartisan support (the inflation reduction act) where 78% of the budget would have gone to Republican states whose voters feel they are not getting their fair share of federal money?

From Paul Krugman:

The Expendables are the means-tested programs outside of social security and Medicare that go to Americans in need, like food stamps, disability payments, Medicaid, and section 8 housing.

Eventually go after these popular and necessary programs - where the actual money is - so that money can be diverted to the 26 billion (estimated) deportation project and a 4.5 trillion dollar tax cut for the wealthy?

And in the meantime, gut education, strip mine public parks, abandon protections for clean air and water - contribute to global climate change!

Gut public health and health research, criminalize accurate reporting by the CDC, create a situation where the US could be the incubator for the next worldwide pandemic?

Loosen up banking regulations just as we're reaching the top of a manic financial hype cycle, so we can crash the economy again like we did in 2008 - this time with Trump et. al. in charge to handle the fallout?

Fund far-right authoritarian groups around the globe, pressure European countries to allow "free speech" (hate speech) against the interests of the people living in those countries, foment a global backlash against immigration FROM the countries that will be hit hardest by climate change, TO the countries that are largely responsible for climate change to begin with?

And blame everything that goes wrong on 'DEI' which means hiring or promoting anyone who isn't a white Christian male.

Like really. Really really. Every crazy Senate confirmation went through. Republican senators are begging trump for special exemptions from Trump's chaotic spending cuts that hurt their own constituents, they are kissing the ring exactly as Pritzer describes, and for what? Trump is only loyal to himself and - maybe - the people who put him back into power - that is, Elon Musk and the Heritage Foundation - NOT the Republican voters who will be materially hurt by his policies and only have Hate to show for it.

We aren't headed towards authoritarianism, we are already halfway there.

The Supreme Court hasn't ruled yet on any of Trump's acts of executive overreach, but the first of the funding freeze cases will reach them this week. Mass public pressure is so important right now.

There are people – some in my own Party – who think that if you just give Donald Trump everything he wants, he’ll make an exception and spare you some of the harm. I’ll ignore the moral abdication of that position for just a second to say — almost none of those people have the experience with this President that I do. I once swallowed my pride to offer him what he values most — public praise on the Sunday news shows — in return for ventilators and N95 masks during the worst of the pandemic. We made a deal. And it turns out his promises were as broken as the BIPAP machines he sent us instead of ventilators. Going along to get along does not work – just ask the Trump-fearing red state Governors who are dealing with the same cuts that we are. I won’t be fooled twice.

I’ve been reflecting, these past four weeks, on two important parts of my life: my work helping to build the Illinois Holocaust Museum and the two times I’ve had the privilege of reciting the oath of office for Illinois Governor.

As some of you know, Skokie, Illinois once had one of the largest populations of Holocaust survivors anywhere in the world. In 1978, Nazis decided they wanted to march there.

The leaders of that march knew that the images of Swastika clad young men goose stepping down a peaceful suburban street would terrorize the local Jewish population – so many of whom had never recovered from their time in German concentration camps.

The prospect of that march sparked a legal fight that went all the way to the Supreme Court. It was a Jewish lawyer from the ACLU who argued the case for the Nazis – contending that even the most hateful of speech was protected under the first amendment.

As an American and a Jew, I find it difficult to resolve my feelings around that Supreme Court case – but I am grateful that the prospect of Nazis marching in their streets spurred the survivors and other Skokie residents to act. They joined together to form the Holocaust Memorial Foundation and built the first Illinois Holocaust Museum in a storefront in 1981 – a small but important forerunner to the one I helped build thirty years later.

I do not invoke the specter of Nazis lightly. But I know the history intimately — and have spent more time than probably anyone in this room with people who survived the Holocaust. Here’s what I’ve learned – the root that tears apart your house’s foundation begins as a seed – a seed of distrust and hate and blame.

The seed that grew into a dictatorship in Europe a lifetime ago didn’t arrive overnight. It started with everyday Germans mad about inflation and looking for someone to blame.

I’m watching with a foreboding dread what is happening in our country right now. A president who watches a plane go down in the Potomac – and suggests — without facts or findings — that a diversity hire is responsible for the crash. Or the Missouri Attorney General who just sued Starbucks – arguing that consumers pay higher prices for their coffee because the baristas are too “female” and “nonwhite.” The authoritarian playbook is laid bare here: They point to a group of people who don’t look like you and tell you to blame them for your problems.

I just have one question: What comes next? After we’ve discriminated against, deported or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people, the developmentally disabled, the women and the minorities – once we’ve ostracized our neighbors and betrayed our friends – After that, when the problems we started with are still there staring us in the face – what comes next.

All the atrocities of human history lurk in the answer to that question. And if we don’t want to repeat history – then for God’s sake in this moment we better be strong enough to learn from it.

I swore the following oath on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible: “I do solemnly swear that I will support the constitution of the United States, and the constitution of the state of Illinois, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of Governor .... according to the best of my ability.

My oath is to the Constitution of our state and of our country. We don’t have kings in America – and I don’t intend to bend the knee to one. I am not speaking up in service to my ambitions — but in deference to my obligations.

If you think I’m overreacting and sounding the alarm too soon, consider this:

It took the Nazis one month, three weeks, two days, eight hours and 40 minutes to dismantle a constitutional republic. All I’m saying is when the five-alarm fire starts to burn, every good person better be ready to man a post with a bucket of water if you want to stop it from raging out of control.

Those Illinois Nazis did end up holding their march in 1978 – just not in Skokie. After all the blowback from the case, they decided to march in Chicago instead. Only twenty of them showed up. But 2000 people came to counter protest. The Chicago Tribune reported that day that the “rally sputtered to an unspectacular end after ten minutes.” It was Illinoisans who smothered those embers before they could burn into a flame.

Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage. So gather your justice and humanity, Illinois, and do not let the “tragic spirit of despair” overcome us when our country needs us the most.

Sources:

• NBC Chicago & J.B. Pritzker, Democratic governor of Illinois, State of the State address 2025: Watch speech here | Full text

• Betches News on Instagram (screencaps)

[s-soulwriter]

Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)

Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):

1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.

2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.

3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.

4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.

5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.

6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”

7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.

8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.

9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.

10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.

11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!

12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.

13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.

14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.

Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.

[sycamoretower]

thinking about how growing up with my sister getting into witchy things she (and I) were always told that thinking about things enough and really hard can make them manifest. and I truly thought that for a really long time. but such a mentality is so so so bad for (my) ocd holy shit

[thebubblesareevil]

Mistaken identity

We’ve all seen Danny getting mistaken for a bat. But what about a bat being mistaken for a Fenton.

When Danny took responsibility for Dan the first thing they did was get him a human form that wasn’t his corpse. Between vlad, clockwork, and his parents they managed to get him a new body that had him looking more alive than ever.

He was a bit tanner than expected, but they figured that came from Danny’s ghostly side.

When it came time for Danny to go to Gotham for school, he refused to leave Dan behind. Instead, using the funds he got from the ghost kings treasury and child support from Vlad, Danny got them a studio apartment close to campus.

His parents outfitted the apartment with all the latest security, of course.

Everything was going great, all expect for one thing…

People in amity park accepted Dan and adapted almost immediately, having gotten used to the many quirks of ghosts long ago. Gotham….was a bit less understanding.

Luckily for him, unlucky for the rest of Gotham, the police there were incredibly corrupt and easy to bribe anytime he had to bail Dan out or, in the case of that one Karen that decided to give Dan shit for painting his nails, bail himself out of any trouble they came across.

Danny did his best to spend plenty of time with Dan, even when he was exhausted, he refused to ignore his little brother.

So after going through hell during finals week, Danny decided to take Dan to the zoo. Danny did his best to keep an eye on Dan, he really did! He had only sat down for a moment, just to rest his eyes, next thing he knew though he could hear someone yelling about violent kids.

Danny immediately jumped to his brother’s aid.

“I’m sorry,” Danny started as he interrupted the screeching woman. “Is there a problem here?”

Dan tried to speak up but the woman wouldn’t let him.

“This brat pushed me out of the way while I was looking at the exhibit and then spewed profanities at me!” She howled.

Danny flinched at the offensive noise on his sensitive hearing.

“No offense mam, but somehow I highly doubt that. My brother may not have the best manners, but he sure as hell wouldn’t push someone for no reason.” He couldn’t comment about the language, Dan knew more curse words in more languages that this woman could speak thanks to ghost speech, and he used every one of them.

“You little brat! How dare-“

“Of course, if you feel that strongly about it, we could always ask to see the cameras.” Danny suggested with a smirk. “I for one would LOVE to see what they have to show us.”

The woman paled before turning away in a huff. “I don’t have time to deal with annoying brats like you.” She said before turning away.

Danny’s eye twitched, “Good, because I don’t have time to deal with an entitled bitch like you.” Danny replied, ignoring the woman’s offended screech.

“C’mon Dan, let’s go get a snack and go see the penguins.”

——

Damien was thoroughly confused by what was going on. This was not how he was expecting this day to go.

He had snuck out of the Manor earlier, desperate to get away from his families judging eyes. The night before, he had encountered a smuggling ring, and after seeing the state the animals were in, he didn’t hold back against the traffickers. It was only because of his training with father that they hadn’t died.

His father called it overkill, he called it Justice.

After what he saw the previous night he decided to spend the afternoon at the zoo and bask in the presence of the animals, knowing that they were all well cared for.

And then the annoying shrew decided to ruin his day. He was ready to verbally eviscerate her when a large man stepped in. One that decided to claim him as his brother.

The man grabbed him by the hand after chewing out the woman and walked him over to the penguin exhibit, only stopping to pick up snow cones.

“I could have handled her on my own.” Damian said, before taking a bite of his treat, “you didn’t need to lie.”

Damian took a good look at the man before him, he had basically collapsed onto the bench when they stopped, the bags under his eyes made drake look well rested.

“What are you talking about?” The man asked before releasing a massive yawn. “I didn’t lie. Believe it or not, you’ve improved a lot since you came home to us. Sure, I could see you pushing someone out of the way a few years ago, but now?”

The man grabbed him by the arm, tugging him into a hug. Damien was too stunned to push back as the man gave him the most comforting, caring hug he had ever had.

“We’re all so proud of you Dan, you’ve come a really long way.”

Damien suddenly felt a pit form in his stomach as realization struck.

He carefully extricated himself from the hug.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding, my name is not Dan.” Damian explained, pulling down the hood on his hoodie.

The man looked at him confused before rubbing his eyes. Taking a second look, his eyes went wide.

“Fuck.” He then proceeded to pull out his wallet. “Do I have enough to bribe a cop?”

Damian frowned, “why exactly would you be bribing the police?”

“Because I apparently just kidnapped a kid.” The man shrugged. “My names Danny by the way.” He said before sluggishly getting up from his seat. “Let’s go see if we can find your parents and my brother.”

“My father is not aware of my current location.”

Danny paused, giving Damian a long look before nodding, “We’ll if your gonna sneak out, at least you went someplace educational.”

Damian looked at him confused as the man stretched.

“Well then, let’s go find Dan and get something to eat before we get you home. I’m sure your father is worried sick.”

Danny then grabbed Damian by the hand and started to lead them back the way they came. The crowds parting at the sight of the large man.

“I do not need an escort, I am more than capable of returning home on my own.”

“That may be so,” the man started. “But I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep tonight if I didn’t make sure you got home safe. You wouldn’t want me to be deprived of sleep, would you?”

Damian considered the statement. The man was clearly on the brink of collapse. “Very well.” He nodded.

The approached the tiger exhibit to pure chaos as the animal handlers tried to retrieve a boy from the tiger cage. Danny sighed before Damian could try to sneak away and jump into action.

“And here I thought I wouldn’t have to bribe anyone today.” Before he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted “DAN FENTON! IF YOU DONT GET OUT HERE IN THE NEXT 2 MINUTES, ILL TELL JAZZ!!”

The zoo keepers nearly panicked as the boy immediately jumped up, completely ignoring the tigers and climbed out to join his brother.

[avelera]

Contrary to how he initially comes across, Jayce is actually the archetypical blacksmith character who is tall and broad shouldered and always doing his best to not take up too much space or be too intimidating. His way of moving is a lot like bigger guys I know IRL who are aware of how much bigger stronger they are than others, how easy it would be to hurt someone by accident, and how easily he could scare someone by getting up in their space. (Another example of this archetype is Perrin Aybara from Wheel of Time.)

The reason people don’t see it as much in the story or in the fandom is because Jayce is actually pretty good at toning down things that could intimidate people. He’s clean cut, clean shaven, unfailingly polite, and he’s careful while moving around people. (There’s a great moment in 1.04 that demonstrates this when he skirts by the little girl to go pester Caitlyn.)

He always inclines his head to speak with people on their level and he sits when he’s around Viktor to not loom over him and to make it less awkward for Viktor to sit as well if he needs to without it hurting his pride. He might actually be one of the tallest characters in the series but you wouldn’t know it by how rarely he leans into that advantage.

Part of the reason people begin to warm to him in S2, I think, is because once he grows the beard and lets his hair grow out, he actually begins to LOOK like the archetype of the gentle blacksmith that he’s actually been the whole time.

It’s also, rather fittingly, when Jayce begins to stand up for himself and not care what others think of him. It’s when he cuts through the bullshit in the Council chamber because he doesn’t have time to coddle everyone’s egos. He’s grown up, and he doesn’t care if he’s clean cut and clean shaven anymore because there’s more important things than worrying about if he’s intimidating people, or socially acceptable in his mannerisms and speech. I think this just highlights how careful he was being up to that point to present the fresh-faced, unintimidating appearance in the first place.

Jayce is a big guy and he is strong and he could easily break things or scare people but he constantly chooses to make himself smaller and bring himself down to other people’s levels so he doesn’t loom over them and he’s scrupulously polite, except in those rare instances where he is trying to push back or intimidate someone into backing down (like with Heimerdinger when he threatens the Hexcore and this Viktor’s hope for a cure). People just didn’t acknowledge it before he grew the beard and Jayce began to look like the sort of character that trope is associated with.

Edit: Guys, Jayce is not 6'7" that's a fan edit, the internal documents for Fortiche say he's 6'2"

[mysterystarz]

haikyuu boys asking for a kiss

ft: atsumu miya, osamu miya, oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ ATSUMU MIYA

atsumu is snuggled up to you on the couch while you frantically type away at your laptop. on the tv in front of you are all the highlights of the recent volleyball tournament — a far cry from the pages and pages of information that you kept adding to.

your classes had finals this week, and in the midst of putting all the final touches on your papers, you’d barely had time to give your boyfriend any of the affectionate love you always treated him to (and it was showing).

atsumu wrapped his arm tighter around yours, brown eyes fluttering up from beneath his lashes to meet yours.

“angelllll” he whined, gently pushing your laptop to the nearby cushion, “give me a kiss. ya’ haven’t given me anythin’ in so long.”

“just a minute,” you sigh, gently running your finger across his cheek. “can i at least put the last sentence on this paper.”

he pouts huffily, and so enamored by your boyfriend, you lean in to press your lips to his. they were soft and comforting in the way that they always were and you felt better instantly.

atsumu smiles cheekily after you pull away.

“another one please.”

“tsumu!”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹OSAMU MIYA

osamu was teaching you how to bake after you’d admitted that you needed a lot more practice using an oven before you’d ever feel comfortable cooking in front of others.

luckily, he was there, your apron clad knight in shining armor (a chefs hat) to cheesily teach you the ropes of one of his favorite pasttimes.

“okay, now what?” you asked, hands dusted in flour as you looked to the bowl in front of you. you’d done a great job getting the ingredients into the bowl, but some of the batter had splattered slightly onto the countertop while mixing.

osamu smirks smugly, casing you in against the countertop and leaning in just inches from your face.

“look at that. yer givin’ me such a mess to clean up.” he smiles and you think you might just melt from how warm the look in his eyes is. “this requires a price.”

you gulped nervously, all too cognizant of how close he was. “anything.”

“give me a kiss,” he whispers, and your lips are on his almost instantly. he pulls you close and you taste the faintest dusting of sugar on his lips. you pull him even closer, until you hear a thud.

“what was that?” you asked, pulling away.

osamu laughs, pointing to your feet. “the flour! ya’ knocked it over klutz. guess i must be that good of a kisser.”

“shut up,” you grin.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ OIKAWA TOORU

oikawa tooru is on his way to a sports banquet and you’re his date. he stands nervously at your doorstep, looking dapper in a tux that he took days deciding on. he’s picked a tie that compliments the rosiness of his skin, and taps his foot nervously.

you open the door to greet him with a wide smile, and oikawa thinks that his heart is about to jump out of his chest. you look perfect. the outfit you chose complimented your features perfectly, and for a moment, oikawa is so stunned that he can’t even speak.

“tooru,” you beam at him with your widest smile, and he thinks he’s going to become a puddle on the floor. he enters your place, hands nervously shaking around the index cards he’s prepared for todays speech and the fact that he was lucky enough to score you as his date.

“are you nervous?” you ask, catching the shakiness of his hands. however handsome and composed he seemed on the outside, you could always tell when he needed some reassurance.

“a bit,” he confessed. “i have to be the best speech giver for people to pay attention. i’m just not sure if i can.”

you stride over to him, adjusting his tie a bit and patting his cheek affectionately. “you’re magnetic tooru. you’ll be just fine.”

he looks at you earnestly, brown eyes filled with fondness. “can i kiss the jitters out?”

you nod with a laugh and press your lips to his, enveloped in his passionate embrace. his lips keep finding yours over and over, and he pulls away to gasp for air.

“feel better?” you asked, lips a tad swollen from his kiss.

“i could use another one,” he smirks.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ IWAIZUMI HAJIME

iwaizumi hajime had invited you out on an impromptu picnic. the weather at your university had just gotten so much better, and in the spirit of enjoying nature, he’d invited you outside (promising you could bounce any questions off of him if you needed to study).

you found yourself under a beautiful tree, filled with flowers that were soft to the touch. hajime filled a basket with all your favorite snacks and drinks.

it was the perfect excursion, and with the sun warming the air around you and the brisk breeze, you could almost say that it was the perfect day.

iwaizumi pulls you into his side, and the two of you look out into the field together. his arm is wrapped around your waist and you can feel the warmth of him seeping through your shirt.

“this is nice,” you sigh contently, feeding iwaizumi a strawberry. he smiles genuinely, and you think your heart will burst.

“you know what would make this better? a kiss.” he jokes cheekily, only to have you nodding eagerly to press your lips to his.

it’s sweet and juicy from that strawberry, and you can feel his happiness radiate through the way he holds you close. when you pull away, he’s grinning like you strung the stars.

too enamored by the handsome boy in front of you, you lean in to kiss him again.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

sebek and his big ol' heart

Y’all thought I would be writing an extensive analysis on [REDACTED] or Skully but JOKE’S ON YOU, I love my lame idiot child Sebek 😭

When I tell you I actually CRIED MULTIPLE TIMES reading his Nightmare Suit vignettes… because all the pieces fit together SO well…

Before reading this (long) post, I’d like to ask that you also take your time to read this analysis and this analysis. They will help you understand some of the points I made later regarding Sebek and his internalized racism + how he expresses himself.

Have your recommended reading done? Great, then let’s hop to it!

***Spoilers for Sebek's Nightmare Suit vignettes, book 7, and various other Sebek and Silver card vignettes.***

Sebek is one of those characters that lives in infamy for how much time he takes to get warmed up to. He presents himself as loud and brazen, with these traits often earning him the ire of both in-universe peers and irl fans alike. Worst case scenario, Sebek can be seen as someone who is outright hateful. He’s rude to most people (including Silver, his childhood friend, sometimes), denounces humans, acts like Malleus can do nothing wrong, and doesn’t seem to respect his own father.

Well, I’m here today to tell you those claims are false and that Sebek is actually capable of so, so much love. All you need to really do is look at his Nightmare Suit vignettes—and how well they connect with the rest of his lore—to understand what I mean.

The vignettes start with Jack Skellington finishing a bento that Sally made for him. Sebek tells Jack that he should now return the basket that the bento was delivered in to her and to let her know what he thinks of her meals, but Jack says he can’t because he’s busy with Halloween preparations. Jack asks Sebek and Azul to return the basket in his stead, which they do. (These vignettes appear to be following Trey’s Nightmare Suit vignettes, as those open with Sebek and Trey seeing Sally jump out of a window with food with Jack. Sebek points out to Trey that Sally wants to hand deliver that food and says he believes there is some other reason than just being nice to Jack.)

They aren't allowed to see Sally because Dr. Finkelstein has locked her up for misbehaving, so they leave the basket. Azul advises that they also pass along Jack's comments (he had called Sally smart, thoughtful, and kind; he often forgets to have meals when he's absorbed with his work, so it's generous for her to prepare a delicious meal like this for him). Sebek loudly refuses, as he believes that hearing these grateful words from Jack himself would be much more meaningful to Sally.

He later confronts Sally at Town Hall and asks to speak with her privately (in an ALLEYWAY lol). There, Sebek flat-out tells Sally that such roundabout tactics will never help her feelings reach Jack because he's way too dense. Of course, she reacts with denial which sends Sebek into a passionate speech about the lengths Sally will go to for love (short of actually speaking about it). She literally threw herself out of a window and put herself in bodily harm to get to Jack when Dr. Finkelstein locked her in her room. She deliberately disobeyed her guardian and brainstormed a way to get out when theoretically she should not have been able to move around freely. If that's not motivated by love, then what is? Sebek declares that it's really annoying to watch Sally dance around the issue and to see her devotion go to waste. IT'S LIKE HE'S WATCHING/READING A ROMCOM AND THE TWO MAIN CHARACTERS KEEP PLAYING THE "WILL THEY, WON'T THEY" CARD... She admits that she can't share her feelings because Sally thinks she's not worthy of someone as impressive as Jack... They're not compatible. And you know how Sebek responds??? BY TELLING SALLY ABOUT WHAT IS BASICALLY TWISTED ROMEO AND JULIET... Sebek reading tragic romance confirmed 😭 He describes the story as one of two lovers whose families do not approve of their union. In desperation, the lovers try to elope--but their plan fails and they return to their warring families. Instead of committing dying like in the original tale, the lovers live the rest of their lives lamenting the outcome and how they can no longer see the person they love most. Sebek shares his own interpretation of the story and its moral: because the lovers gave up hope that they could get their families to accept one another... because they never tried to get their families to get along... because they could not properly articulate their feelings to their families... the lovers could not be together. He is convinced that if they had communicated better, the story would have a happier ending. Sebek is of the firm belief that a story itself cannot come to be without the author wanting to share their own thoughts or feelings; he even suggests that maybe the author of Romeo and Juliet experienced something similar--a regret that resulted from neglecting to express deep-seated feelings. It's not just this book either, Sebek claims to have many stories with a similar theme or miscommunication leading to conflict.

Above all, Sebek stresses to Sally that she must believe in herself and take swift, decisive action. And why does Sebek whole-heartedly throw himself into this belief? Because his own family is living proof that a happy ending is possible if you try hard for it.

If you've paid attention to Sebek lore prior to this, you'll know that he has a human father and a fae mother. Their marriage faced opposition and scrutiny in Briar Valley, a country which is isolated from the rest of the world and suffered greatly from human invaders pilfering the fae lands for resources. One of these sources of opposition and scrutiny is Sebek's own grandfather and his mother's father, Baur. Apparently, Mrs. Zigvolt married Mr. Zigvolt against the wishes of her dad.

Sebek shares even more details with Sally in his Nightmare Suit vignettes. To this day, Baur does NOT approve of his daughter's marriage--but Mrs. Zigvolt doesn't let that get her down! No, she does everything in her power to prove to her father that she made the right choice and she's perfectly content with her life. She'll send letters enclosed with photographs of her family, take her children to visit Baur's home, and invite him to join family dinners. Sebek adds that he's sure his mom made other efforts too--all to try and get Baur to acknowledge her marriage. More recently, Baur seems to have lightened up a little... as in, he always used to turn Mr. Zigvolt away at the door, but now lets him in about once a year (though Baur still avoids eye contact with him and continues to frown). Mrs. Zigvolt stubbornly believes that if she keeps this up, her dad will one day change and bless her marriage with the man she truly loves. Sally commends Sebek and his mother's ability to speak their minds loudly and proudly, but then disparages herself again by saying she can't do the same. Sebek then confesses that he can relate to Sally's frustrations. He related her feelings to his own inadequacy in serving Malleus, the powerful and noble king-to-be of his country. That feeling... Sebek describes it as akin to heartache. But instead of wallowing in that heartache, he pushes himself to close that distance between himself and his idol. If he keeps hesitating, then there is absolutely no way he can catch up to where Malleus is! Sebek must dedicate himself to becoming someone worthy of serving him. He encourages Sally to do the same through both her words and her actions! At that moment, Jack walks in and Sally makes good on Sebek's advice. (This part isn't important to the analysis on Sebek's character, so I'm glossing over it.) The vignettes end with Epel complaining about Sebek being loud as per usual. Sally doesn't take issue with his volume though. She simply giggles and informs Epel that Sebek speaks so loudly and clearly so that his words can resonate with others--like how his words gave her courage.

We have learned new lore about Sebek's grandfather and mother. What does this tell us about Sebek? A lot, actually--if you slate it with all the other lore we have on hand.

We see just how strong of a woman his mother is. I suspect this is where Sebek picked up a lot of his hard-headedness, as well as the tendency to express himself very overtly, from. However, it also speaks to the loving environment he grew up in.

His mother seemingly never questioned her own life choices and never gave up fighting to prove her happiness to a father--and likely an entire community--that rejected her marriage, her husband, and maybe even her children. She fiercely loves and defends her family and the life they have made for themselves. Sebek states that he looks up to her for her magical strength, but that he also admires her principles and strong convictions. Indeed, it was her who ardently pursued Mr. Zigvolt and did not allow naysaying to deter her.

Then there is Mr. Zigvolt. In Sebek's Birthday Boy vignettes, he describes his father as "a strange man" who is "magically deficient" and "never lets his smile fade, no matter what I say to him [...] he defies comprehension." Though Sebek doesn't seem to hold the same amount of respect he has for his mother for his father, we don't hear Sebek openly insulting his dad, just expressing confusion about him. When asked about it, Sebek denies depending on his father--but it's clear there is a fondness there that he's not addressing. Mr. Zigvolt is impressed whenever his children use magic, buys them snacks they never asked for, and talks with them for long periods of time in a calm, patient manner. His father, too, has given Sebek so much compassion and understanding.

We don't know a lot about Sebek's siblings, but they seem to get along fine! He has mentioned going to parks with them. They've also gone fishing together and witnessed magic competitions, which they were all amazed by. The Zigvolts in general (or at least the parents) seem to be accepting too, as they volunteer to take Silver in whenever Lilia is unable to take care of him.

And you'd think that's where it ends, but NO. Baur ALSO has a lot of love to give. Despite not approving of his daughter's marriage, he doesn't actively despise his grandchildren. Quite the opposite, in fact! Though he's rough around the edges and looks scary, Baur doesn't fault any of his grandchildren for being born half fae and half human. He actually makes it a point to bond with them, and especially with Sebek. It was Baur who taught Sebek the language of nocturnal fae and instilled in Sebek his love for reading (as he bought many books for him and tells many stories himself). He also personally reached out to Lilia to train Sebek, as the young boy (at around age 7) expressed an interest in martial arts. Sebek has a love for salmon carpaccio because he and his siblings would fish at Baur's house and then prepare the dish for him--Baur was so happy about it. Additionally, Baur values getting a good education and was proud when Sebek shared with him that he was invited to attend Night Raven College.

Sebek grew up in a country that dislikes humans, but he was raised in an household where he was loved unconditionally and provided with all the resources he could need to get a good education and become someone who is physically strong. So of course he becomes frustrated when he sees Sally, who is so nervous to act on her feelings. What would have happened if Sebek’s mother had been like Sally, thinking she and her now-husband are incompatible? If she didn’t try pursuing her feelings at all? Sebek, as the youngest of three, might not event exist. His parents may not still be together… or maybe they wouldn’t have gotten together in the first place. It’s exactly because Sebek knows what love is supposed to be like--courtesy of his own family—that he can see it so well in others, and wants them to act on it. His very existence is proof that love is possible, and it transcends arbitrary labels like race that serve to divide people into categories.

One quirk of Sebek's is how he's always dishing out back-handed compliments or making comments that come off as rude but aren't at their core. He can't seem to help but say a good thing that sounds like something bad. His Diasomnia classmates, usually Silver, have to translate these Sebek-isms for others, who misunderstand him or interpret his words in the worst possible way. For example, from one of Silver’s Fairy Gala lines; “Sebek said to me that no self-respecting disciple of Lilia’s would dare get a single stain on this clothing. That's his way of encouraging me.” In Silver's Dorm Uniform vignettes, Sebek tries to reassure his friend and tell him to not let other people's opinions hurt him--but he phrases it as, "Hmph, ridiculous! I see no reason for you to heed a few random comments from some humans." The duo is also shown to be competitive with one another in training; it's never malicious, they both want to prove themselves as the superior knight, and the other serves as motivation to improve and/or a means of measuring one's own growth against a fellow disciple. When the mostly elderly population of Harveston is in need of physical labor, Sebek comments "[...] the humans in Harveston are woefully out of shape," yet he insists he "still [has] energy to burn" (as if to volunteer himself to do more work) and calls such tasks "simple" (as if to point out how easy it is for him to do, so don't worry about troubling him). He hauls apples and helps the villagers with whatever they need, declaring that they should "be grateful"--but if he truly did not care, he could have stopped at any time or settled for just making fun of them. But Sebek doesn't, because he DOES care deep down. This aspect of Sebek is made even more obvious in Fairy Gala: What If. He appears at Ramshackle and opens by declaring, "NO! I am by no means worried about anyone! [...] Don't mistake my intentions. I am NOT here to help! If your mission doesn't succeed, the repercussions will definitely affect Malleus and Lilia. Hence... I shall lend you uneducated humans my aid! [...] You're welcome to weep with joy at my magnanimity..." Time and time again, we see Sebek demonstrating a lot of kindness, but deflecting or not being totally transparent with his intentions due to pride or embarrassment. This behavior is very reminiscent of Baur, the grandfather that Sebek loves dearly and spent so much time with. Baur, too, can be very passionate and loving, but struggles to speak of those feelings openly. Just look at how the man deals with Mr. Zigvolt. The behaviors of the family, then, imprint on Sebek and influence his behaviors--and being that Sebek is from such a loving group, it follows that Sebek puts out a lot of love into the world too.

A lot of times when the fandom discusses Sebek's attitude, I feel it's from the context of him being hateful towards humans. I'm not going to deny that Sebek has said some pretty nasty things about half of his own identity. The point I would like to make here is that Sebek can love just as strongly.

The most obvious thing that supports the claim that Sebek is capable of strong love is how he views Malleus. It's no great secret that Sebek practically worships the ground his dorm leader walks on. That's essentially Sebek's key defining character trait. What I'll ask you to consider instead is the nature of Sebek's love--not the obsessiveness of it, but rather the unconditional nature of it.

In Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas, Skully laments that Sebek has not been disappointed by his idol, Malleus. Sebek actually corrects him by saying that love isn't imposing your own views on your idol, it means preparing to accept them, flaws and all. He says the same of Malleus; should the time ever come where Sebek's expectations of Malleus falter or their paths have to diverge, then he will still embrace his young master, never once turning his back on him. And where does Sebek gets this from? His parents. The father who loves his children no matter how critical Sebek may be of him. The mother who remained so strong in the face of her friends and family being against her life choices.

A common fandom sentiment regarding Sebek is that he blindly follows Malleus--and to be fair, he does for a large part of the main story. But when speaking about his idol to Skully, Sebek says that agreeing with someone and continuing to love them are different things. You can disagree with someone's actions and still continue to love them and accept them. This follows what Sebek does in book 7 and likely alludes to the character development he goes through during + following book 7; though he is betrayed and hurt by Malleus turning his powers against the world, Sebek does not let up on the hope that he can bring his young master back. He even sillily calls the yet-to-be-hatched Malleus tamago/egg-sama, showing even an infant form of Malleus great respect after witnessing his OB. Skully took the opposite path that Sebek did; when he realized that his own idol, Jack Skellington, was not as he imagined him to be, Skully became enraged and lashed out over it. Sebek points out Skully's inadequacies as well, which ties back to how he spoke of his own drive to improve in his Nightmare Suit vignettes. Skully confesses to trying desperately to emulate Jack--so much so that he breaks down when Sebek's UM destroys his iconic shades. He wallows in his current state and doesn't make efforts to change or to be better; the past and his own vision is where he's comfortable. It's a strong contrast to Sebek, who has made it clear he will continue to train and work hard to prove his merits and to be someone worthy of protecting the great Malleus Draconia.

It is Sebek's passion and boundless love that makes him a hero both in Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas AND in the main story's book 7. He serves as a foil to Skully in the former and actively saves Silver when he's on the brink of despair in the latter. After learning that his biological father is the man responsible for killing Malleus's mother and leading the Silver Owls' onslaught on Briar Valley, Silver despairs and comes to the conclusion that his father must loathe him. "He could never love the son of the man he despised! He has to hate me! He has to!" Sebek rushes to Silver's side using Living Bolt, a UM he has yet to master (thus causing residual damage to him when he casts it), to correct him:

"You have this much strength... and you dare to say you weren't loved?! That you were hated?! [...] If [Lilia] hated you, he didn't have to give or teach you anything. He could've just raised you into a dimwitted coward and made you a servant. But he didn't--and look at you now. Even alone and helpless, you stood firm. You spoke up, unfaltering in the face of our liege's madness. Even trapped in the darkest despair, you kept on fighting! Who raised you to be so strong? LILIA DID! Why don't you see? Why do you doubt? You should have understood years ago! What can you call your strength, if not the direct result of Lilia's love?!"

WHETHER SEBEK REALIZES IT OR NOT, A LOT OF WHAT HE TELLS SILVER HITS HOME FOR HIM TOO... Like, thinking about it... Sebek must have faced a lot of prejudice from his community because of who his father is. He might have grown up thinking he, too, was hated, had he not been protected by his loving mother, father, and, yes, even grandfather, who is still struggling to accept the human in their family. Baur must have been feeling very complicated emotions upon meeting his half human grandchildren for the first time... but even though he dislikes humans, he could never find it in himself to dislike his grandkids. If he had hated Sebek, he wouldn't have wanted him to get a good education. Baur wouldn't be happy that he got into NRC. He wouldn't personally ask Lilia to train the grandson who expressed an interest in combat. He wouldn't buy so many books for Sebek or read with him or tell him stories or teach him his language. He wouldn’t spoil Sebek by giving him sweets (which, by the way, Baur himself dislikes). But Baur DOES do all of these things, because deep down he loves Sebek no matter what he is. You can hear it in the hurt of Sebek’s voice when dream!Baur reacts to him coldly. That isn’t the grandfather he is used to. Though it’s said that Baur doesn’t exactly welcome his grandchildren with open arms, he definitely loves them and cares for them in his own way. If it was anything less than love Baur felt for his grandson, if he decided to neglect his grandkids, then Sebek would have grown up as some "dimwitted coward". IT'S ALL CONNECTED.

This even extends to Sebek’s evaluation of Malleus in book 7. When OB Malleus appears in Lilia’s dream, Sebek pleads with him. “You were born from the love of so many, my liege! It’s not right for you to become an enemy bated by all the world!” Like with Silver, these words also apply to Sebek, even if he is not aware of it. Sebek was born from the love of many people in his life. Not just his family, but also by those in Diasomnia. Lilia gives him wisdom and guidance, Silver is his sparring partner and smooths over arguments with classmates for him, and Malleus is his shining light and idol. Sebek is the youngest both of his siblings and of the Diasomnia group: he is spoiled by the others and given so much love. Yet he is also commonly hated by his peers for his attitude.

And now here Sebek stands, able to tell others that they are loved and should be cognizant of that love. He reminds Silver that Lilia loves him. He tries to talk reason into Malleus. He advises Skully to reevaluate how he sees his idol. He tells Sally to speak honestly about her feelings, because it was his own mother speaking honestly about hers that led to Sebek and his entire family being as happy as they are now. He shouts at people to act and to speak their minds because he doesn't want them to live with regrets, because he doesn't want to see them be weak and timid--a version of himself that could have resulted if he hadn't been loved so strongly.

You can say many things about Sebek: that he's loud, that he's rude, that he's a fanboy, that he has big muscles. But of all those muscles, Sebek has a very big heart too. And what made him so strong? All the love he received from his family, despite growing up an environment that surely invited hatred for humans.

[mothwingwritings]

Miscommunication

F!Reader X Pickle

Hello everyone! Sorry for the lack of communication. I’ve been doing this or that, working on stuff, surviving summer, you know how it is.

I have been picking away at quite a few fics recently, but I am all over the place so they are all getting worked on/done/edited at different paces. I wrote this lil Pickle fic in the midst of it all. It was born purely from the thought of a yandere licking up your tears that they themself were the cause of, so I picked a guy and ran with that. I chose Picky because my feral mans does NOTrealize how much of a menace he is to you but by God he’s gonna keep on forcing his love on you until one of you dies. :)

18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

Thank you and enjoy!

WARNINGS: Noncon, forced interaction/cuddling, dacryphilia, miscommunication (if you couldn’t tell by the title), light editing, 18+ only!!!

There were plenty of things Pickle loved about you.

He loved the way you looked. So different from the people of his time, you were distinct in a way all your own. The moment he first laid his eyes upon you he was beseeched by curiosity, your unique appearance adding to the intrigue of your already undeniable beauty and charm. You were smaller, softer, and far more polished than the women he was used to. With glossy well-kept hair and not a mark of dirt or grime upon your body, you appeared to him to be almost glowing. This pure presentation made him feel as if he was beholding some glorious creature from another planet, not a mere human woman. You were definitely something that should be far out of his reach, breathtakingly lovely, but unattainable. Yet somehow here you were, right within his grasp, ripe for his consumption. Having such a gorgeous and otherworldly creature in his vicinity was far too enticing, how could he not be expected to stake his claim?

He loved the way you smelled, though those strange sprays you coated your body with were a bit much for his liking. He preferred your natural scent, the one you always tried to mask for whatever reason, the one that differentiated you from the rest of the herd. He could pick it out from anywhere at any time no matter how far from him you strayed, but it would become especially pungent when you were worked up or excited. He relished those moments, pleased to get a whiff of it through the artificial cover of stinking flowers and fruits. Heady and ambrosial, he would bask in your natural essence, inhaling it deeply as if he were receiving a treat.

He also loved the way you sounded, though your words made no sense to him. All the people that surrounded him seemed to make the same kinds of noises, their lips forming sounds that he was sure held all manner of meaning, but none of it he was privy to. Not that it mattered to him really. Different forms of communication suited him much better than spoken word ever could anyway, and despite the lack of common speech he shared with his new peers, he got by just fine. When Pickle bared his teeth or showed open pleasure, those that were nearby seemed to understand him all the same, so there had never been much need to put thought into their dialogue.

… That was, until he met you. It frustrated him sometimes, when you would speak to him with words he could not comprehend. When you talked with a smile he could assume he did something pleasing, or at the very least you weren’t upset, but when you would frown and raise your voice… What exactly was upsetting you? If it was something he did he wanted to correct it right away, your pretty smile suited you much better than a grumpy frown did. He’d do just about anything to keep it on your face forever, if only he knew the words to say or understood the specific requests you spoke to make that happen. The sounds that spilled from your throat… What praises and admonishments was he missing? What words could he say back to keep you smiling, laughing, happy? He wanted to know, struggled to know, but the language barrier was just too great, leaving him distraught and guessing.

When you spoke to other people (other men particularly) and they understood you perfectly, chuckling and nodding, responding to you in kind… It upset him. Who were they to communicate with you so freely? Who were they to speak with you so openly, when all he could seem to get across was rudimentary ideas and feelings? Even if he loved to hear the cadence of your voice, the lack of understanding and the annoyance these mysterious conversations caused was something he couldn’t quite shake.

But even with all the adoration he felt for you, there was one, and only one, thing he didn’t love about you- your tears.

In his era, cries from your mate meant one of a small handful of things. They were hurt and/or scared, there was a threat nearby and they needed protection, or they simply needed their mates help with something. Regardless of which of these options may have brought on the tears, it was always very easy to figure out what the situation was and for the other party to act accordingly.

But each time you cried was a conundrum. You never seemed to shed just a few tears, throwing your heart into full on wailing at the top of your lungs each time your eyes began to remotely water. Whenever this would occur he would momentarily panic, scooping your perturbed body up to force you against his chest, desperate in his attempt to ascertain a cause of concern that would bring you to this state, one that he could never seem to find. He’d turn your body around this way and that, scouring every inch of you with his eyes and hands to check and see if he could pinpoint any wounds or blood. But while you thrashed and fought as he carried out his inspection, his hands always came back clean, and you never seemed to show particular distress when he pressed down on any given area of your body (save for your more private areas, but you always put up a fuss with those). He’d investigate your surrounding area, prowling for anyone or anything that may have scared you or caused alarm, but found nary a soul or item out of place that could have caused you such distress.

That only left the third option- that you were looking to him for help. But help with what? He had already secured you in the safest place he could find, nestling you far away from any potential threats or creatures that could cause you harm. Though he knew you were not a fan of the dank, malodorous, stone underbelly of the village, it was something you would have to get used to. Keeping you elsewhere was simply too risky. Besides, this area was familiar to him, being not unlike some of the cave dwellings of his old home. And with the pathways being so straightforward and long, he could easily monitor surrounding activity and hide you away should someone show up to cause problems (not that anyone would, most seemed to ignore this place entirely, which was another one of its many appeals).

The paths also snaked deep underground, with exits leading rather far out from the more bustling areas of civilization. It made it easy to hunt and gather, so he had no problems providing you with food, clothing, bedding-anything at all you may need he brought to you, and he was happy to do so. He took honor in being your provider, your lover, your mate.

You were safe, you were cared for, and you were loved by him. He showed it in every way he could, serving and providing in ways that went above and beyond what any other potential partner could do for you. Down here in the depths, he shielded you from all that may have hurt you in your old life. Maybe he didn’t understand your speech, but he could clearly see the toll living with the others above ground was taking on you. Each slump of your shoulder and sigh from your lips was recorded in his memory, the weary look you often wore as you pushed yourself harder than necessary haunted his thoughts until he was pushed into action. Every man whose misplaced comments made you scowl had met a grisly end by his hands, assuring they would never bother you again. Every stress of your old life had been removed, all of the agonies of your previous day to day a thing of the past.

Now the only thing you had to focus on was being a good mate to him- a skill you already excelled at by simply existing. You had no need to be sad, you were perfect, and he was doing all he could to show you this.

So why? Why did you always cry?

Even now as he was buried deep inside of you, the pleasure of feeling you stretch to accommodate his massive size so intense he could barely maintain his sanity, tears continued to spill freely from your eyes.  There was absolutely no reason for them- you were always such a good girl for him, bringing him pleasure and joy he scarcely believed was achievable. If anything you should be proud about how well you take him, about how incredibly good you were making him feel, about how flawless you were as his mate. He loved you, he adored you, he would do any and everything for you, and he planned on doing so until his dying day.

Yet still, you cried.

He couldn’t keep them from happening, and he couldn’t think of any other way to stop them, so the least he could do is try and staunch them for a bit. Holding your face still between his hands, he laved his rough tongue slowly over the apples of your cheeks, passing over your tightly clenched eyes in an attempt to cleanse you of your malaise. Time and time again he lapped at your face like a mother lion cleaning it’s cub, moving from the left cheek to the right cheek in quick succession to drink up as many of your salty tears as he could.

Eventually it seemed to work, or at least it caused your upset sobbing to turn into little more than gentle mewling. Maybe you were just doing this to appease him, or perhaps you were finally sharing in the immense pleasure he had been experiencing, overshadowing whatever negative feelings caused you to cry to begin with. Regardless, the tears were trickling to a standstill, and while they weren’t completely quelled, seeing them diminish caused him to smile brightly. He could consider this a victory.

But as he stared down at your tear stained face, moist and red from a mixture of his saliva and your own upset, he couldn’t deny that there wasn’t a charm to witnessing you in such a state. As he picked up his pace, reaching a particularly sweet spot inside of you, you began to scream out, overcome with the intensity of it all. Once more water seeped into your eyes, and he watched mesmerized as fat tears slid down your face, accompanied by whimpers each time his brutal pacing brushed your core. The way your tears accented your ecstasy, adding to the breath taking view only he would ever have the delight of seeing, he couldn’t find himself hating your cries any longer.

Maybe he had been misguided this whole time, realizing now that this may just be another special attribute of yours. He was starting to understand you better, and felt a fool for being so mistaken for so long. Your cries were unique, acting as a sign of immense happiness, not distress. He laughed slightly at his own blunder, it wouldn’t be the first time he had misunderstood you, but this certainly was the most ridiculous miscommunication.

His smile grew as he thrust into you victoriously, elated at his triumph in unlocking a great mystery about you. This whole time he should have never tried to stop them. From now on, he should try and make you cry more.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

one of worst part of be nonverbal n not really have reliable way communicate by words (AAC, etc)—but happen even when do have them—be not able defend yourself when people misunderstand you when people say wrong thing about you when people talk bad abt u to your face you can’t explain self can’t curse back can’t defend self can’t tell your truth you just force be there sit there in your anger your upset your sad your mad your unfairness because if you let those show you know it just going be more evidence of that wrong thing they say that only you know is wrong n all other people only get see evidence of how it even more true like you not win it always lose

when people call you bad temper rude angry all the time bad behavior explosive, n only you know it because first time people do thing to wrong or annoy you you can’t say anything do anything abt it you can’t tell them it annoyed you. n second time same thing. third time same thing. five thousandth time same thing. all day every day multiple times a day same thing. n one day you bound to explode n you think in your head how unfair it is how if you do same thing to verbal speaking people if you kick them in corner enough they would also one day get impatient n explode except everyone other verbal speaking people would sympathize with them because they able relate to them see them as person n that verbal speaking person able defend self explain why they explode why stuff annoying. n difference between you n them be you nonverbal thus less relatable be totally different creature n you cant defend yourself u cant get your perspective heard

so when you explode you can’t get your perspective heard people assume you have no perspective for them to hear because they not sympathize with you they not see self in you they not think through your perspective.

n so when you explode out of desperation out of control they say to other speaking verbal people observing n not helping you, “see, what did say? it has terrible temper rude it has anger issues it has behavioral issues n which mean we need fo what we doing to it more to help them or else they never going stop have bad temper anger behavioral issues.”

but in same vein almost like they on purpose make it more difficult for you like they take joy in your suffering they say “geez just communicate normally like regular person no need with all this attitude” n you know by communicate normally they mean communicate by words in calm n comfortable (to them as receiver, not you) easy to accept (for them) way. when by very definition you cant communicate by mouth speech n you not have great access to alternative method of communicate n even if you do you at such huge advantage bc it so much more ignorable it take so much longer time longer concentration more effort n you know they will give you none of that bc that not convenient for them it not help them be morally superior it not help them win their argument. it be as cruel as lock cat in tiny cage n poke it hit it stick it scare it as you ignore its body language n terrified meows for who knows how long n then get mad at it for attacking you out of desperation n label it as have behavioral issues n should be put down.

they hold you to impossible standard n idk what more insulting, for them to not know it impossible standard to you because you visibly obviously nonverbal a core part of who you are n to be able to just forget abt it when it convenient to them, just how neglectful are they like it take more effort to forget abt it than it be to remember it. or is it more insulting that they on purpose hold you to impossible standard they know be impossible for you, how sadistically cruel that is.

they give you none of the access none of the privilege none of the understanding none of the support none of the sympathy they give to other speaking verbal people but they expect every single one of the ability every single one of the expectation of the demand of the convenience of the ease they receive from other speaking verbal people n if you fail give them those it your fault.

[ottersandfandoms]

Full Analysis/breakdown of the asmodous crystal exchange because the episode broke me and this is how I cope. Warning: long

So the first shot we have is Stolas sitting on his bed in apprehension, then Blitz jumps up on the balcony. Blitz starts the night off like any other, bringing out his bag of sex toys and just speaking in an unworried manner. Yet we have the sad music playing in the background that lets us know this is temporary. It’s NOT a normal night. Stolas knows this too and he’s just quietly watching.

Stolas finally speaks and he stutters at the beginning. This is really happening. He disregards all the other things Blitz brought and instead just asks for the book.

This is when Blitz first starts noticing something is up. We see a quick shot of his smile dropping. He was all worried about Stolas getting bored of him earlier and wanting the book back and now he began to actually think those fears are being proven true. Even if he doesn’t admit it, Blitz has a big fear of not being wanted and just pushed aside, like he has been for most of his life. 

So when Stolas admits he needs the book back Blitz panics. His fears are true. He begins to hurriedly speak and makes excuses. This book is his livelihood and the reason for his jobs so it makes sense why he is scared of losing it. He leans in and tries to initiate sex. It works every time with Stolas so why wouldn’t it work now? Stolas begins to grow sad. He does want to have sex with Blitz. But he knows that would be unfair so he gets up.

Blitz is terrified. He desperately begs Stolas for the book. Blitz is being put in a vulnerable situation and he doesn’t like it. His whole life could be destroyed if he can’t keep his business afloat. He wouldn’t be able to support himself and couldn’t support Loona. He would “do anything” to keep it.

But then Stolas shows him the crystal. Stolas presents it to him in a happy tone. He tries to be happy and hopeful even though he is clearly still very worried. Maybe everything will be ok. Maybe Blitz will reciprocate Stolas’s feelings and everything will be great.

Blitz thinks Stolas is joking. He doesn’t understand why Stolas would do this. Now his job is safe but his relationship with Stolas is not. His deepest fears are being proven once more. 

He’s not good enough.

He goes into this state of wanting to please.

When Blitz was a child, his dad clearly saw Blitz as the weakling compared with Fizz. And no matter how much Blitz tried to prove himself, it was never enough. “I can do better” is almost juvenile in its phrasing. A desperate plea and promise that might diffuse the situation. Blitz reverts back to his childlike self where he was always last choice and flung aside like he didn’t matter. Imagine how many times he said that exact sentence to his father.

Stolas explains. Stolas actually does a good job of saying what he wants. He is clear and to the point, emphasizing asking what Blitz wants. During Stolas’s speech, Blitz glances back and forth at the crystal, trying to make sense of what’s happening  and then at Stolas. Because he does want to stay. He likes Stolas. If he didn’t care, he would've taken the crystal and left, but he didn’t and chose to stay. Stolas finally just finishes his speech by confessing his feelings. He says them in a frantic way; he is putting himself out there but there is hope there too. 

Blitz thinks he’s joking. Of course he would be. Why could Stolas actually seriously care for him? How could Stolas care for him? The only possible explanation has to be that Stolas is joking. So he puts on a roleplay because he thinks it’s what Stolas wants. He refuses to accept there may be something more.

Stolas takes this as a mocking rejection. His hope has been squashed. Stolas is so used to being mocked that he immediately takes Blitz’s ‘roleplay’ as Blitz making fun of him. Stolas has been mocked by the people, the other Goatia, Stella. Blitz is just another one to add to the list.

He accepts the supposed rejection and walks away. Blitz now realizes he wasn’t joking. He is legitimately surprised that Stolas would want anything true with him. Blitz has this worldview of nobody truly wanting him; finding him useful, sure, but actually wanting him…that would be impossible. Stolas’s confession is a stark blow to that worldview and it makes sense why Blitz needs time to accept this.

This is where Stolas makes his mistake, he doesn’t give Blitz time to think through this. He takes Blitz’s confusion as rejection, not stopping to consider that Blitz is just as scared as he is. His hope is now totally gone. Both Stolas and Blitz are eerily similar in their fears. They both just want to be wanted but where Stolas shrinks away in sadness, Blitz lashes out.

And that's exactly what Blitz does now. And he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t want to deal with his own hurt feelings so he instead blames it all on Stolas, to hide the fact that he may be blaming it on himself. The thing is, most of what Blitz says is true. Stolas repetitively called him a plaything and ‘little imp’ so it makes sense why Blitz doesn’t fully believe him. Blitz has always been the inferior one in his relationships. With Fizz, With Verosika, with Stolas, with countless demons. This has caused him this inferiority complex that he can’t escape. 

Blitz has tears in his eyes and he is truly breaking down. He has spent so long trying to convince himself that Stolas doesn’t care and now suddenly he does? He still hasn’t actually accepted that Stolas cares for him. He can’t accept that and that makes it all more painful. It has to be some lie or game and he is begging Stolas to stop playing. To stop complicating things because that will force Blitz to think about how he feels.

"Let's go!"

Blitz fully expects Stolas to yell back. he is so used to being in arguments where the other person will lash back as well. And Blitz almost wants this. He believes he deserves it.

But Stolas doesn't...

Instead he takes Blitz sceaming the wrong way. You see this heartbreaking scene of Stolas starting to cry. Stolas has spent his whole life being told to be quieter, be more controlled, less emotional. Him crying in front of someone, rather than alone really emphasizes the hurt he is feeling. And then there is of course the most heartbreaking line: “I didn’t realize you think so low of me”.

Everyone thinks low of Stolas. He is the “pathetic” Goatia prince who is constantly scoffed at and bullied. Blitz was his escape from all of that, but now he believes Blitz thinks the same as everyone else.

But Blitz DOESN’T think low of Stolas. He thinks low of himself. 

Blitz realizes he fucked up. He went too far and hurt Stolas.

He realizes that Stolas misinterpreted what he said because Blitz was never really talking about Stolas, he was talking about his own feelings. We can see Blitz actually try to reach out to Stolas. He needs to let Stolas know that he doesn’t think that. You can hear him start to say “I’m sorry-” but as he’s saying that Stolas portals him away. 

Blitz “What the fuck” perfectly encapsulates his feelings. He doesn’t understand what happened but he knows that he messed up. Blitz needs to let Stolas know that he actually cares about him and apologize for what he said and Stolas needs to understand that Blitz needs some time.

Blitz never once said that he doesn’t care, only that he doesn’t believe Stolas can.  

[vmrsdias]

Insecure

Pairing: Ruben Dias x reader

Plot: You’re different from those girls Ruben used to go out with

Author's note: English is not my first language

It was a foggy evening in London, and the city lights shimmered through the large windows of the restaurant where a charity event had just concluded. y/n walked beside Ruben, clutching his arm, the sound of her heels on the pavement echoing her muddled thoughts.

“Everything okay?” Ruben asked, noticing her distant expression.

y/n forced a smile. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine at all. During the event, Ruben had bumped into one of his exes, Isabelle, a French model who looked like she had just stepped off the cover of Vogue. Their conversation had been cordial, even warm, and y/n had felt like a piece of furniture, invisible and insignificant next to that perfect woman. Every smile and word exchanged between them had been a reminder of how different she was from Ruben’s world.

Once outside the restaurant, Ruben ran into Bernardo Silva and a couple of other teammates, who greeted him enthusiastically.

“Ruben, as great as ever!” Bernardo said, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he noticed y/n and smiled. “And who’s this beautiful lady? You’ve outdone yourself, as always.”

Ruben laughed, pulling y/n closer. “This is y/n. And please, don’t put any strange ideas in her head.”

“Don’t worry, Ruben, I don’t need him to feel inadequate,” y/n replied with an ironic smile, trying to lighten the tension she felt inside. But Ruben turned to her, raising an eyebrow, sensing the undertone of her words.

After saying goodbye to the others, Ruben helped her into the car. “You were amazing tonight,” he said as he started the engine. “Everyone loved your speech.”

“Thank you,” y/n replied, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. Once inside the car, she stared at her reflection in the window. The dress she had chosen so carefully now seemed too simple, too… insignificant.

When they got home, Ruben took off his jacket and collapsed onto the couch. “What an intense evening, huh?” he said, flashing her a tired but affectionate smile.

y/n nodded but didn’t join him. Instead, she headed to the bedroom, where she began removing her earrings in front of the mirror. She couldn’t shake the image of Isabelle from her mind: tall, elegant, with a presence that filled the room. And then there was her, a simple psychology student who felt out of place in that world of luxury and glamour.

Ruben joined her shortly after, leaning against the doorframe. “Are you okay?” he repeated, this time with a note of concern.

y/n turned to him, unsure whether to speak or not. But eventually, the words spilled out. “How can you be with me, Ruben? After everything you’ve had? After women like Isabelle?”

He stared at her, surprised. “What? Where is this coming from?”

She shook her head, feeling tears sting her eyes. “I stood next to you all evening, but I couldn’t help feeling… less. Less beautiful, less interesting, less suited for you.”

Ruben stepped closer, taking her hands and forcing her to look into his eyes. “Amor, stop it. Don’t say things like that.”

“But it’s true,” y/n insisted, pulling her hands away. “Look at Isabelle! She belongs in your world. I… I spend my days studying and doing internships. I don’t even know how to act in places like tonight.”

“You belong in my world more than anyone else,” Ruben said firmly. “Do you know why? Because you’re real. Because you’re you. Isabelle is part of the past. You are my present and my future.”

y/n looked at him, trying to believe his words. “But don’t you miss that kind of life? Those kinds of people?”

Ruben smiled and shook his head. “No. Do you know what I miss when you’re not around? The way you laugh at silly jokes. The way you get lost in your thoughts while studying. The way you make me feel at home, even when we’re on the other side of the world.”

At that moment, Ruben’s phone vibrated. It was a message in the team group chat. Bernardo had written: “Your y/n is a gem, brother. You’re a lucky man.” Ruben showed the message to y/n, who read it with a small smile. “See?” Ruben said. “It’s not just me who thinks so.”

“But I…” y/n began, but Ruben interrupted her.

“There are no ‘buts,’” he said. “You’re everything I want, y/n. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. Not a single thing.”

She lowered her gaze, torn between wanting to believe him and the voice in her head that kept whispering she wasn’t enough. “And what if one day everything changes? If I stop being enough for you?”

Ruben leaned down slightly, bringing himself to her level. “You’re already enough. You’re everything. And every time you doubt that, I’ll remind you how special you are to me.”

The tears y/n had been holding back finally fell, and Ruben pulled her into a tight embrace, as if trying to banish all her insecurities. But that night, as he slept peacefully beside her, y/n lay awake, staring at the ceiling. She loved that man with all her heart, but every day she fought against the idea of not being good enough. Perhaps, she thought, love isn’t just about accepting the other person but also learning to accept yourself.

[traffytaffy]

OP Men and proposing💍

Ft. Law, Kid, Sanji, Zoro.

Sorry i haven’t posted in a bit. I had like no ideas, but this was actually requested by my best friend who was going through “marriage fever” lmao.

Requests are open!

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Law;

-Marriage isn’t something he’s concerned with but if it is something that you’ve shown interest too, then he’ll consider it. But expect a proposal after several years of being together.

-He would prefer something quiet.

-Somewhere that only you can hear the way he speaks to you in his gentle voice as he tells you everything he loves about you. 

-He wont get on one knee but he would be right next to you, thigh-to-thigh, hand-in hand… as the close contact of his warmth radiates off of him and onto you.

-He would probably pick the night time so it would be more peaceful as the moon and stars are out (also so you don’t see his deep blush)

-He looks embarrassed at first but decides to just be upfront and honest.

-He would pull out a diamond ring. It wouldn’t be too extravagant,something minimal but filled with love.

“Would you…accept this? And make me the happiest man…once more?”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid;

-Marriage doesnt really pass his mind. If youre with him. You’re his, not a paper or a ring can tell him otherwise.

-I dont think he would care about the logistics of it, but he decides to take matters in his own hands once he sees someone flirting with you…

“Married?”

You nod to get the person flirting with you away…

“I don’t see a ring on ya finger”

-After…beating their ass. Kid would make you a custom ring with an engraving of you and his initials.

-Instead of getting on one knee. He just hands you the ring, his flustered face not able to meet your eyes and all he says is:

“Keep it on, you hear me?”

-And thats all you needed to hear to know you’re a married partner now…without even saying yes.

(You can not convince me he’s not a big softie)

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Sanji;

Do i even have to say it?

He has every…little..thing… planned..

-Its Sanji, you should know he would make a proposal the most romantic gesture he has ever done.

-He’d probably buy you bushes of flowers. Petals running up and down the beach where you find a candlelit dinner waiting for you. And of course… he cooked it all.

-French wine. The best of the best.

-His suit was fresh and crisp, not one single wrinkle in its fabric. You actually felt a bit under-dressed but he assured you that you were the most beautiful thing to him no matter what you wore.

-You felt like an idiot cause out of all the extravagant dates and romantic gestures hes done for you, it took him getting down on one knee for you to finally understand what was happening.

-He has a long speech. You probably have to shut him up by giving him a kiss midway through and saying “please shut up. Of course its a yes” in a sweet and playful way obviously.

-Cause he didnt need to say every great detail about you for you to know your answer was always going to be a yes.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Zoro;

Probably accidentally got lost and made it to an office where he can file for marriage.

(Kidding…well maybe..?)

-He probably would propose if its something you want. As for him, its not really a big deal.

-He actually does try to plan it out to the best of his ability, asking his crew members for help.

-He loves you so much and wants this to go as planned that he even asks Sanji of all people for help. Sanji takes care of cooking a special dinner for you two.

“Im only helping you cause its for y/n”

But secretly, he wants Zoro to be happy as well.

-When it happens, you two are alone on the deck of the ship, sharing a drink after the two of you ate the dinner Sanji had made for the two of you.

-When the time of the night came that he thought was right, he is sweating profusely.

“Can i talk to you?”

-You nod and listen as your beautiful eyes stare into his, causing him to stutter.

-He doesnt have a speech or anything, he believes the words should just come to him.

But they dont.

-He pulls out the ring and looks at everything else but you.

-He holds the ring out to you while rubbing the back of his head nervously.

“Marry me?”

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Tells All: Becoming Donald Trump, Gaining 15 Pounds and Starring in 2024’s Most Controversial Movie

By Daniel D'Addario

Sebastian Stan Variety Cover Story

It started with the most famous voice on the planet, the one that just won’t shut up.

Sebastian Stan, in real life, sounds very little like Donald Trump, whom he’s playing in the new film “The Apprentice.” Sure, they share a tristate accent — Stan has lived in the city for years and attended Rutgers University before launching his career — but he speaks with none of Trump’s emphasis on his own greatness. Trump dwells, Stan skitters. Trump attempts to draw topics together over lengthy stem-winders (what he recently called “the weave”), while Stan has a certain unwillingness to be pinned down, a desire to keep moving. It takes some coaxing to bring Stan, a man with the upright bearing and square jaw of a matinee idol, to speak about his own process — how hard he worked to conjure a sense Trump, and how he sought to bring out new insights about America’s most scrutinized politician.

“I think he’s a lot smarter than people want to say about him,” Stan says, “because he repeats things consistently, and he’s given you a brand.” Stan would know: He watched videos of Trump on a loop while preparing for “The Apprentice.” In the film, out on Oct. 11, Stan plays Trump as he moves from insecure, aspiring real estate developer to still insecure but established member of the New York celebrity firmament.

We’re sitting over coffee in Manhattan. Stan is dressed down in a black chore coat and black tee, yet he’s anything but a casual conversation partner. He rarely breaks eye contact, doing so only on the occasions when he has something he wants to show me on his iPhone (cracked screen, no case). In this instance, it’s folders of photos and videos labeled “DT” and “DT PHYSICALITY.”

“I had 130 videos on his physicality on my phone,” Stan says. “And 562 videos that I had pulled with pictures from different time periods — from the ’70s all the way to today — so I could pull out his speech patterns and try to improvise like him.” Stan, deep in character, would ad-lib entire scenes at director Ali Abbasi’s urging, drawing on the details he’d learned from watching Trump and reading interviews to understand precisely how to react in each moment.

“Ali could come in on the second take and say, ‘Why don’t you talk a little bit about the taxes and how you don’t want to pay?’ So I had to know what charities they were going to in 1983. Every night I would go home and try not only to prepare for the day that was coming, but also to prepare for where Ali was going to take this.”

Looking at Stan’s phone, among the endless pictures of Trump, I glimpse thumbnails of Stan’s own face perched in a Trumpian pout and videos of the actor’s preparation just aching to be clicked — or to be stored in the Trump Presidential Library when this is all over in a few months, or in 2029, or beyond.

“I started to realize that I needed to start speaking with my lips in a different way,” Stan says. “A lot of that came from the consonants. If I’m talking, I’m moving forward.” On film, Stan shapes his mouth like he can’t wait to get the plosives out, puckering without quite tipping into parody. “The consonants naturally forced your lips forward.”

“If he did 10% more of what he did, it would become ‘Saturday Night Live,’” Abbasi says. “If he did 10% less, then he’s not conjuring that person. But here’s the thing about Sebastian: He’s very inspired by reality, by research. And that’s also the way I work; if you want to go to strange places, you need to get your baseline reality covered very well.”

A little later, Stan passes me the phone again to show me a selfie of him posing shirtless and revealing two sagging pecs and a bit of a gut. He’s pouting into a mirror. If his expression looks exaggerated, consider that he was in Marvel-movie shape before stepping into the role of the former president; the body transformation happened rapidly and jarringly. Trump’s size is a part of the film’s plot — as Trump’s sense of self inflates, so does he. In a rush to meet the shooting deadline for “The Apprentice,” Abbasi asked Stan, “How much weight can you gain?”

“You’d be surprised,” Stan tells me. “You can gain a lot of weight in two months.” (Fifteen pounds, to be exact.)

Now he’s back in fighting form, but the character has stayed with him. After years of playing second-fiddle agents of chaos — goofball husbands to Margot Robbie’s and Lily James’ characters in “I, Tonya” and Hulu’s “Pam & Tommy,” surly frenemy to Chris Evans’ Captain America in the Marvel franchise — Stan plunged into the id of the man whose appetites have reshaped our world. He had to have a polished enough sense of Trump that he could improvise in character, and enough respect for him to play him as a human being, not a monster.

It’s one of two transformations this year for Stan — and one that might give a talented actor that most elusive thing: a brand of his own. He’s long been adjacent enough to star power that he could feel its glow, but he hasn’t been the marquee performer. While his co-stars have found themselves defined by the projects he’s been in — from “Captain America” and “I, Tonya” back to his start on “Gossip Girl” — he’s spent more than a decade in the public eye while evading being defined at all.

This fall promises to be the season that changes all that: Stan is pulling double duty with “The Apprentice” and “A Different Man” (in theaters Sept. 20), in which he plays a man afflicted with a disfiguring tumor disorder who — even when presented with a fantastical treatment that makes him look like, well, Sebastian Stan — can’t be cured of ailments of the soul. For “A Different Man,” Stan won the top acting prize at the Berlin Film Festival; for “The Apprentice,” the sky’s the limit, if it can manage to get seen. (More on that later.)

One reason Stan has largely evaded being defined is that he’s never the same twice, often willing to get loopy or go dark in pursuit of his characters’ truths. That’s all the more true this year: In “The Apprentice,” he’s under the carapace of Trumpiness; in “A Different Man,” his face is hidden behind extensive prosthetics.

“In my book, if you’re the good-looking, sensitive guy 20 movies in a row, that’s not a star for me,” says Abbasi, who compares Stan to Marlon Brando — an actor eager to play against his looks. “You’re just one of the many in the factory of the Ken dolls.”

This fall represents Stan’s chance to break out of the toy store once and for all. His Winter Soldier brought a jolt of evil into Captain America’s world, and his Jeff Gillooly was the devil sitting on Tonya Harding’s shoulder. Now Stan is at the center of the frame, playing one of the most divisive characters imaginable. So he’s showing us where he can go. The spotlight is his, and so is the risk that comes with it.

Why take such a risk?

The script for “The Apprentice,” which Stan first received in 2019, but which took years to come together, made him consider the American dream, the one that Trump achieved and is redefining.

Stan emigrated with his mother, a pianist, from communist Romania as a child. “I was raised always aware of the American dream: America being the land of opportunity, where dreams come true, where you can make something of yourself.” He pushes the wings of his hair back to frame his face, a gold signet ring glinting in the late-summer sunlight, and, briefly, I can hear a hint of Trump’s directness of approach. “You can become whoever you want, if you just have a good idea.” Stan’s good idea has been to play the lead in movies while dodging the formulaic identity of a leading man, and this year will prove just how far he can take it.

“The Apprentice” seemed like it would never come together before suddenly it did. This time last year, Stan was sure it was dead in the water, and he was OK with that. “If this movie is not happening, it’s because it’s not meant to happen,” he recalls thinking. “It will not be because I’m too scared and walk away.”

Called in on short notice and filming from November 2023 to January of this year (ahead of a May premiere in Cannes), Stan lent heft and attitude to a character arc that takes Trump from local real estate developer in the 1970s to national celebrity in the 1980s. He learns the rough-and-tumble game of power from the ruthless and hedonistic political fixer Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong), eventually cutting the closeted Cohn loose as he dies of AIDS and alienating his wife Ivana (Maria Bakalova) in the process. (In a shocking scene, Donald sexually assaults Ivana in their Trump Tower apartment.) For all its edginess, the film is about Trump’s personality — and the way it calcified into a persona — rather than his present-day politics. (Despite its title, it’s set well before the 2004 launch of the reality show that finally made Trump the superstar he longed to be.)

And despite the fact that Trump has kept America rapt since he announced his run for president in 2015, Hollywood has been terrified of “The Apprentice.” The film didn’t sell for months after Cannes, an unusual result for a major English-language competition film, partly because Trump’s legal team sent a cease-and-desist letter attempting to block the film’s release in the U.S. while the fest was still ongoing. When it finally sold, it was to Briarcliff Entertainment, a distributor so small that the production has launched a Kickstarter campaign to raise money so that it will be able to stay in theaters.

Yes, Hollywood may vote blue, but it’s not the same town that released “Fahrenheit 9/11” or even “W.,” let alone a film that depicts the once (and possibly future) president raping his wife. (The filmmakers stand behind that story. “The script is 100% backed by my own interviews and historical research,” says Gabriel Sherman, the screenwriter and a journalist who covers Trump and the American conservative movement. “And it’s important to note that it is not a documentary. It’s a work of fiction that’s inspired by history.”) Entertainment corporations from Netflix to Disney would be severely inconvenienced if the next president came into office with a grudge against them.

“I am quite shocked, to be honest,” Abbasi says. “This is not a political piece. It’s not a hit piece; it’s not a hatchet job; it’s not propaganda. The fact that it’s been so challenging is shocking.” Abbasi, born in Iran, was condemned by his government over his last film, “Holy Spider,” and cannot safely return. He sees a parallel in the response to “The Apprentice.” “OK, that’s Iran — that is unfortunately expected. But I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Everything with this film has been one day at a time,” Stan says. The actor chalks up the film’s divisiveness to a siloed online environment. “There are a lot of people who love reading the [film’s] Wikipedia page and throwing out their opinions,” he says, an edge entering his voice. “But they don’t actually know what they’re talking about. That’s a popular sport now online, apparently.”

Unprompted, Stan brings up the idea that Trump is so widely known that some might think a biographical film about him serves no purpose. “When someone says, ‘Why do we need this movie? We know all this,’ I’ll say, ‘Maybe you do, but you haven’t experienced it. The experience of those two hours is visceral. It’s something you can hopefully feel — if you still have feelings.’”

After graduating from Rutgers in 2005, Stan found his first substantial role on “Gossip Girl,” playing troubled rich kid Carter Baizen. Like teen soaps since time immemorial, “Gossip Girl” was a star-making machine. “It was the first time I was in serious love with somebody,” he says. (He dated the series’ star, Leighton Meester, from 2008 to 2010.) He feels nostalgic for that moment: “Walking around the city, seeing these same buildings and streets — life seemed simpler.”

Stan followed his “Gossip Girl” gig with roles on the 2009 NBC drama “Kings,” playing a devious gay prince in an alternate-reality modern world governed by a monarchy, and the 2012 USA miniseries “Political Animals,” playing a black-sheep prince (and once again a gay man) of a different sort — the son of a philandering former president and an ambitious former first lady.

When I ask him what lane he envisioned himself in as a young actor, he shrugs off the question. “I grew up with a single mom, and I didn’t have a lot of male role models. I was always trying to figure out what I wanted to be. And at some point, I was like, I could just be a bunch of things.”

Which might seem challenging when one is booked to play the same character, Bucky Barnes, in Marvel movie after Marvel movie. Bucky’s adventures have been wide-ranging — he’s been brainwashed and turned evil and then brought back to the home team again, all since his debut in 2011’s “Captain America: The First Avenger.” Next year, he’ll anchor the summer movie “Thunderbolts,” as the leader of a squad of quirky heroes played by, among others, Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Florence Pugh. It’s easy to wonder if this has come to feel like a cage of sorts.

Not so, says Stan. His new Marvel film “was kind of like ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ — a guy coming into this group that was chaotic and degenerate, and somehow finding a way to unite them.”

Lately, knives have been out for Marvel movies as some have disappointed at the box office, and “Thunderbolts,” which endured strike delays and last-minute cast changes, has been under scrutiny.

“It’s become really convenient to pick on [Marvel films],” Stan says. “And that’s fine. Everyone’s got an opinion. But they’re a big part of what contributes to this business and allows us to have smaller movies as well. This is an artery traveling through the system of this entire machinery that’s Hollywood. It feeds in so many more ways than people acknowledge.” He adds, “Sometimes I get protective of it because the intention is really fucking good. It’s just fucking hard to make a good movie over and over again.”

Which may account for an eagerness to try something new. “In the last couple of years,” he says, “I’ve gotten much more aggressive about pursuing things that I want, and I’m constantly looking for different ways of challenging myself.”

The challenge continued throughout the shoot of “The Apprentice,” as Stan pushed the material. “One of the most creatively rewarding parts of the process was how open Sebastian was to giving notes on the script but also wanting to go beyond the script,” says Sherman, the screenwriter. “If he was interested in a certain aspect of a scene, he was like, Can you find me a quote?” he recalls.

Building a dynamic through improvised scenes, Stan and Strong stayed in character throughout the “Apprentice” shoot. “I was doing an Ibsen play on Broadway,” says Strong, who won a Tony in June for his performance in “An Enemy of the People,” “and he came backstage afterwards. And it was like — I’d never really met Sebastian, and I don’t think he’d ever met me. So it was nice to meet him.”

Before the pair began acting together, they didn’t rehearse much — “I’m not a fan of rehearsals,” Strong says. “I think actors are best left in their cocoon, doing their work, and then trusted to walk on set and be ready.” The two didn’t touch the script together until cameras went up — though they spent a preproduction day, Strong says, playing games in character as Donald and Roy.

After filming, both have kept memories of the hold their characters had on them. They shared a flight back from Telluride — a famously bumpy trip out of the mountains. “He’s a nervous flyer, and I’m a nervous flyer,” Stan says. Both marveled at the fact that they’d contained their nerves on the first day of shooting “The Apprentice,” when their characters traveled together via helicopter. “We both go, ‘Yeah — but there was a camera.’”

Stan’s aggressive approach to research came in handy on “A Different Man,” which shot before “The Apprentice.” His character’s disorder, neurofibromatosis, is caused by a genetic mutation and presents as benign tumors growing in the nervous system. After being healed, he feels a growing envy for a fellow sufferer who seems unbothered by his disability.

Stan’s co-star, Adam Pearson, was diagnosed with neurofibromatosis in early childhood. Stan found the experience challenging to render faithfully. “I said many times, I can do all the research in the world, but am I ever going to come close to this?” Stan says. “How am I going to ever do this justice?”

Plus, he had precious little time to prepare: “He was fully on board, and the film was being made weeks later,” director Aaron Schimberg says. “Zero to 60 in a matter of weeks.”

The actor grappled for something to hold on to, and Pearson sug gested he refer to his own experience of fame. “Adam said to me, ‘You know what it’s like to be public property,’” Stan says.

Pearson recalls describing the experience to Stan this way: “While you don’t understand the invasiveness and the staring and the pointing that I’ve grown up with, you do know what it’s like to have the world think you owe them something.”

That sense of alienation becomes universal through the film’s storytelling: “A Different Man” takes its premise as the jumping-off point for a deep and often mordant investigation of who we all are underneath the skin.

The film was shot in 22 days in a New York City heat wave, and there was, Schimberg says, “no room for error. I would get four or five takes, however many I could squeeze out, but there’s no coverage.”

Through it all, Stan’s performance is utterly poised — Schimberg and Stan discussed Buster Keaton as a reference for his ability to be “completely stone-faced” amid chaos, the director says. And the days were particularly long because Oscar-nominated prosthetics artist Michael Marino was only able to apply Stan’s makeup in the early morning, before going to his job on the set of “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.”

“Even though I wasn’t shooting until 11 a.m., I would go at like 5 in the morning to his studio, or his apartment,” Stan recalls. The hidden advantage was that Stan had hours to kill while made up like his character, the kind of person the world looks past. “I wanted to walk around the city and see what happened,” Stan says. “On Broadway, one of the busiest streets in New York, no one’s looking at me. It’s as if I’m not even there.” The other reaction was worse: “Somebody would immediately stop and very blatantly hit their friend, point, take a picture.”

It was a study in empathy that flowed into the character. Stan had spoken to Pearson’s mother, who watched her son develop neurofibromatosis before growing into a disability advocate and, eventually, an actor. “She said to me, ‘All I ever wanted was for someone to walk in his shoes for a day,’” Stan recalls. “And I guess that was the closest I had ever come.”

“The Apprentice” forced Stan, and forces the viewer, to do the same with a figure that some 50% of the electorate would sooner forget entirely. And that lends the film its controversy. Those on the right, presupposing that the movie is an anti-Trump document, have railed against it. In a statement provided to Variety, a Trump campaign spokesman said, “This ‘film’ is pure malicious defamation, should never see the light of day and doesn’t even deserve a place in the straight-to-DVD section of a bargain bin at a soon-to-be-closed discount movie store, it belongs in a dumpster fire.” The campaign threatened a lawsuit, though none has materialized.

Asked about the assault scene, Stan notes that Ivana had made the claim in a deposition, but later walked it back. “Is it closer to the truth, what she had said directly in the deposition or something that she retracted?” he asks. “They went with the first part.”

The movie depicts, too, Ivana’s carrying on with her marriage after the violation, which may be still more devastating. “How do you overcome something like this?” asks Bakalova. “Do you have to put on a mask that everything is fine? In the next scene, she’s going to play the game and pretend that we’re the glamorous, perfect couple.” The Trumps, in “The Apprentice,” live in a world of paper-thin images, one that grows so encompassing that Donald no longer feels anything for the people to whom he was once loyal. They’re props in his stage show.

“The Apprentice” will drop in the midst of the most chaotic presidential election of our lifetime. “The way it lands in this extremely polarized situation, for me as an artist, is exciting. I won’t lie to you,” says Abbasi.

When asked if he was concerned about blowback from a Trump 47 presidency, Stan says, “You can’t do this movie and not be thinking about all those things, but I really have no idea. I’m still in shock from going from an assassination attempt to the next weekend having a president step down [from a reelection bid].”

Stan’s job, as he sees it, was to synthesize everything he’d absorbed — all those videos on his phone — into a person who made sense. This Trump had to be part of a coherent story, not just the flurry of news updates to which we’ve become accustomed.

“You can take a Bach or a Beethoven, and everyone’s going to play that differently on the piano, right?” Stan says. (His pianist mother named him for Johann Sebastian Bach.) “So this is my take on what I’ve learned. I have to strip myself of expectations of being applauded for this, if people are going to like it or people are going to hate it. People are going to say whatever they want. Hopefully they should think at least before they say it.”

It’s a reality that Stan is now used to — the work is the work, and the way people interpret him is none of his business. Perhaps that’s why he has run away from ever being the same thing twice. “I could sit with you today and tell you passionately what my truth is, but it doesn’t matter,” he says. “Because people are more interested in a version of you that they want to see, rather than who you are.”

“The Apprentice” has been the subject of extreme difference of opinion by many who have yet to see it. It’s been read — and will continue to be after its release — as anti-Trump agitprop. The truth is chewier and more complicated, and, perhaps, unsuited for these times.

“Are we going to live in a world where anyone knows what the truth is anymore? Or is it just a world that everyone wants to create for themselves?” Stan asks.

His voice — the one that shares a slight accent with Trump but that is, finally, Stan’s own — is calm and clear. “People create their own truth right now,” he says. “That’s the only thing that I’ve made peace with; I don’t need to twist your arm if that’s what you want to believe. But the way to deal with something is to actually confront it.”

[ravenclaw-for-all-seasons]

Yule Be Mine - Mattheo Riddle (2/3)

Part 1 | Part 3

The Ball was in full swing. All around the Great Hall, students were engaging with the festivities, the air buzzing with laughter and the soft strains of a waltz.

Mattheo played with the cuffs of his suit for the hundredth time that evening, his fingers itching to reach for the small velvet box hidden in his pocket.

He watched you—stood a few feet away, twirling in your gown as you laughed at something Lorenzo said, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him. It wasn’t fear—Mattheo was never afraid—but tonight, the weight of what he was about to do made his pulse race.

For the first time in his life, he wanted something permanent. Something real. And he just hoped you wanted it too.

And then, unable to hold back any longer, he walked over to you and leaned down, lips brushing against your ear. “Come with me.”

There was something in his tone—something urgent, something serious. You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his eyes. Without a second thought, you nodded, letting him take your hand and weave you both through the crowd.

Theo’s voice rang out behind you. “Oi, where the hell are you two sneaking off to?”

Mattheo barely spared him a glance. “Nowhere you need to know about, mate.”

Before anyone else could protest, he had pulled you out of the Great Hall, leading you through the quiet corridors of the castle. The further you walked, the more you realized where he was taking you.

“The Astronomy Tower?” you murmured, glancing up at him. “What are we doing—”

“Almost there, love,” he interrupted, squeezing your hand. His usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he looked… nervous. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.

Your stomach flipped.

Finally, you reached the top of the tower. The crisp night air surrounded you, and above, the sky stretched wide, stars twinkling like scattered diamonds. The castle below was alive with music and light, but up here, it was just the two of you.

Mattheo turned to face you, his hands still gripping yours, his thumbs brushing over your skin.

For a moment, he just looked at you—like he was trying to commit this moment to memory. Then, he exhaled shakily. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I had this whole speech planned, but the second I saw you tonight, I forgot every damn word.”

Your heart stopped.

He took another deep breath, reaching into his pocket. Your breath caught as he pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your entire world seemed to slow as he dropped to one knee.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening.

Mattheo looked up at you, vulnerability written all over his usually smug features. “I know we’re young. I know people will say we’re insane. But I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.” His voice was steady now, his confidence returning as he held your gaze. “You are the best bloody thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re it for me, love. You always have been.”

He flipped open the box, and you gasped.

The ring inside was massive. An intricately cut diamond sat in the center, surrounded by smaller stones, the silver band adorned with delicate engravings. It was the kind of ring that screamed old money, ancient bloodlines—a clear Riddle family heirloom. It had history, significance, and weight.

“Mattheo,” you whispered, your hands trembling.

His lips twitched into a smirk, but his eyes were still full of emotion. “Yeah, I know. It’s a bit over the top. My family never did subtle.” Then, softer, “But it’s yours. If you’ll have it.”

You could barely breathe.

“I love you,” he murmured. “More than I know how to put into words. So, I’m asking you—right here, right now, just us—will you marry me?”

Tears burned in your eyes, but you barely even registered them because you were already nodding.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Oh Gods, Mattheo—”

He was on his feet in an instant, crashing his lips to yours before you could even finish speaking. The kiss was desperate, full of relief and love and a promise of forever. His hands cradled your face, like he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

When he finally pulled back, he was grinning—beaming.

“Merlin, I love you,” he muttered against your lips.

You laughed, blinking away tears. “Put the ring on me, you idiot.”

He let out a breathless chuckle, slipping the ring onto your finger. It was heavy, a little ridiculous in its extravagance, but it fit perfectly.

You admired it for a moment before looking back up at him. “You actually did it,” you whispered, almost disbelieving. “You proposed.”

His smirk returned, full force. “Told you I was serious, sweetheart.

You launched yourself into his arms, and he caught you with ease, spinning you around under the stars as the castle glittered below. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Because you were his, and he was yours, and forever had never felt so certain.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 28: lucky charm

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

You were sitting, waiting, next to your companion Spencer. It was a small waiting room with stiff chairs and flickering lights, creating a tense and cold atmosphere. Spencer was beside you, his leg bouncing up and down without rest. You could hear the rhythmic sound of his shoe hitting the floor, something that would undoubtedly earn him a few curious looks from those nearby. However, he seemed completely oblivious, focused on his own nervousness.

Every so often, his hand would move up to his mouth to nibble at his nails, a habit you knew he hated, which made you suspect he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. The slight tremor in his fingers and the tension in his jaw confirmed what was dominating his mind.

"Reid, it looks like you're about to have an anxiety attack. Are you okay?" you asked in a gentle whisper, trying to make him feel understood and not judged.

"Nervous," he replied, sounding exactly that way. Although he tried to sound relaxed, the truth slipped out with each word, as if he were trying to contain a sea of thoughts that only continued to grow.

You had both traveled to Chicago to give a lecture—or rather, for him to give a lecture—about your work. It was an important opportunity, and it was understandable that he was anxious. The pressure of speaking before an audience, representing both your work, and answering complex questions, rested entirely on his shoulders.

"You’ll do great; you always do," you said confidently, wanting to offer him the reassurance he couldn’t give himself.

"That’s not true. I know a lot of things, but when I try to verbalize them in front of an audience, everything seems to evaporate around me. I need to avoid eye contact, and that's not socially acceptable. I'll just look like a freak..." he said, lowering his gaze. His tone was one of complete frustration.

"Come on, calm down. No one is going to see you that way. You’re the expert on the topic," you insisted, trying to instill a bit of self-confidence in him. You moved a little closer, watching his expression shift between fear and concentration.

"But I get so nervous! And then I start to stammer and... ugh, it’s a disaster," he exclaimed, bringing both hands up to cover his face, embarrassed and frustrated. His fingers covered his cheeks as he closed his eyes, as if trying to shield himself from the world.

You laughed softly and reached out your hands toward his, gently moving them away from his face to reveal his features bit by bit. When you managed to see his face again, you noticed the blush spreading across his cheeks, perhaps due to the contact. It was a sweet expression, so natural in him, and you were surprised by the vulnerability he let you see in those moments.

"Do you want me to do it? You know I don’t mind. But I’m afraid people won’t get specific data or intellectual answers from me."

"I can do it," he assured you with a slight smile, though he didn’t sound the least bit convinced. "I just need to calm down, breathe..."

"Want a Xanax? I have a quarter tablet in my purse," you said jokingly, though you knew you actually had one. His laugh was immediate, and for a moment, his tension seemed to dissolve.

You both sat in silence for a while, and although he didn’t say so, you knew he was still worried. You wanted to do something for him, to lighten his load a little. In an attempt to make him feel better, you suggested he practice his speech with you, and he seemed agreeable to the idea.

When he started to speak, his gaze locked onto yours, but he soon realized his mistake. He had to look you in the eyes, and that only made him more nervous. The softness in your expression, the way you watched him so attentively... anyone in his place would have had a hard time, too.

You were very pretty; anyone could notice that, and he, of all people, couldn’t ignore it. However, the effort to speak in front of you also served as an exercise in resilience. If he could present his points to you, he could do so to any audience.

Despite his efforts, he failed. The words seemed to tangle in his throat, and in the end, he let out a defeated sigh.

"I’ll do it however I can. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m just here to present data, not to be pleasing to the eye," he muttered, lowering his head.

"Listen," you said, in a final attempt to make him feel better. "I have this; I always carry it with me because it relaxes me to touch the crystals. Use it."

You held out a bracelet full of purple quartz, adorned with a few artificial pink and gold stones. The piece had a warm touch, and you had carried it with you for years.

"Did you know that, according to esoteric beliefs, amethysts provide mental and emotional calm? They’re thought to help promote inner peace and emotional balance, relieving anxiety and stress."

"You see? It’s perfect for you. It’s like my lucky charm. It’ll help you feel secure; I promise," you told him, and the affectionate tone in your words made him blush as you took his hand to leave the item with him. You noticed how his fingers trembled slightly under your touch.

Spencer felt each part of the bracelet, lingering on the softness of each stone, almost as if hoping the luck and calm you mentioned would somehow transfer to him. Then, gently, he placed it on his wrist, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and smiling in gratitude.

"Are you going to be here in the back? Or out front?" he asked, a bit more relaxed.

"Right next to you," you murmured with a smile. "Hotch sent me as eye candy for the old perverts. Remember?"

"That’s not true," he objected, with an offended expression. "You’re coming with me because you’re an exemplary agent."

"Oh, don’t think it only applies to me. Women will also pay attention just because a handsome man is speaking."

He looked at you with narrowed eyes and shook his head gently, as if scolding you for your comments, though you knew they amused him.

Someone from the staff called for you both to go on, and that was the end of it. Spencer walked the entire way clutching the amethyst hanging from his wrist, and after taking a deep breath, he seemed to transform completely once he appeared on stage. His gaze took on a new determination, and although you still noticed a slight stiffness in his shoulders, it was clear that the bracelet had given him some of the confidence he needed.

That bracelet never returned to your hands; you preferred him to keep it, as he seemed to have found in it a source of calm. Spencer kept it close, and whenever there was an important event, he made sure to wear it. Although, in reality, without knowing it, his true lucky charm had always been you.

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 16

Kinktober Masterlist virtus laudata crescit - "greatness increases with praise" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > praise, cunnilingus, mild dubcon/corruption Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Your commander, Captain Price, has come back successful from his last mission, and he blames you for his victory. Your maps and intel led them straight to the enemy, and now he is rewarding you with his utmost praise. The catch? He insists on making sure all of his men display their gratitude to you on their knees.

You heard them coming down the hall before you saw them. Your office was built with short, temporary walls, designed for efficient set up and take down, and the noise of their gear and boots was unmistakable. The 141 had survived a truly challenging mission. You’d gotten the confirmation that they all made it to exfil, and the relief that filled your body was like some sort of euphoria. 

As they rounded the corner, their hulking, gear-laden bodies coming into view of the tactical offices, you and your coworkers let out loud shouts of applause. Everyone stood and clapped as your heroes made it through the building. This happened after every mission these days because the work was getting harder and harder. The counter-intelligence was lacking, the funding was always short, and the whole team was missing the comforts of home. But, today had been a turning point, and they’d pulled through. You were so proud to be helping them. 

You watched as they stood in the center of the tactical office, and the leader, Captain Price, put his hand up as if asking to speak. 

“Oh, wow! A speech,” your coworker, Talia, exclaimed under her breath as she stood next to you, “This is awesome!”

“Thank you,” Price said, raising his gravelly voice so the whole office could hear him, “For all your hard work today. Without you, we couldn’t do our jobs, and today, we owe you our lives.”

More applause, some celebratory whooping, and big smiles all around. Price continued,

“Who is agent 557?”

The jovial crowd turned quiet, everyone glancing around until, slowly, all eyes fell on you. 

Talia smiled big and said,

“She’s over here! It’s 557. She’s right here, Captain.”

“Tal, stop,” you hissed, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment. 

“557?” Price’s bright blue eyes were staring right into your soul.

“Yep,” Talia said smugly, “Captain Price, meet 557, your navigator. Best in the business. This girl could map the universe if you gave her enough caffeine and time.”

“Is that so?” Price asked, stalking his way over to you. 

Your coworkers stepped aside, letting him cut through the crowd to get to you. Once he was standing in front of you, you became even more aware of his immense size. He was dashingly attractive, which everyone in the office knew already. All four men had their own fan clubs, of course, kept secret and whispered over the water cooler or pinged back and forth in the group Slack chat. But, they were always so far away, doing far away things. This was very up close and personal, and you felt your mouth go dry, your nerves fraying, and your breath catching in your throat.

“You saved the bloody day, love. Your map sent us through enemy lines in the safest way. I argued with Gaz,” he craned his head around and nodded at Garrick who wore a smug smile, “I wanted to do it quicker. But, he trusted you. Said you must’ve had your reasons. We were in and out without so much as a scratch on us, and it’s all because of you. Didn’t realize til we breached the warehouse that they had heatseekers on the ground, armed and ready.”

The whole office gasped, and there were murmurs. People even paused to look down at their datapads, wondering where they had missed those weapons on the intel.

You nodded, explaining yourself,

“I thought as much. Heat seekers need a source temp, so putting them near hot oil tanks or airflow units would be a mistake. It’d ruin the readings. So, in grids A4 through E6, I thought… why the outbuildings? Too low for lookouts, too remote for storage. Didn’t make sense. I thought we’d play it safe and cut behind. I’m sorry if it added time, but I couldn’t be sure of what I was looking at.”

“You’re incredible, love. C’mon, me and the lads want to thank you proper, if that’s alright.”

You looked at Talia who was absolutely not playing it cool, and you shrugged,

“Yeah, sure! Mission’s over. I can duck out early. Why not?”

Price smiled wide and warm, and you felt like you would melt in it. 

You followed them down into Price’s private offices, and your eyes marveled at the task force’s war room. It was everything you’d ever wanted to see. Maps and charts and data galore! It was Heaven. 

“Whoa!” You exclaimed, stopping at a large map of Urzikstan, “Is this a SAT image from last week? The bombing in G15 is on here.”

Gaz chuckled,

“C’mon, babes. Come sit and have a drink with us.”

The soldiers dropped all their gear and sat around the table, waiting for Price to pull out the good stuff. He produced an expensive-looking Scotch, and you all got a generous portion. 

You tried very hard not to make a face when you drank it, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to play it cool in front of the hottest dudes in the whole base, feeling like you were very much living out multiple coworkers’ fantasies right now. 

“C’mere, love,” Price said, grabbing you and lifting you up on the desk. 

You giggled, passing off your glass to Ghost, letting Price do whatever he wanted. Honestly, what were you gonna say? No? Ha!

“You deserve much more than just praise, love. You deserve our full gratitude. My men and I wanna show you just how thankful we are to have you on our team. Will you let us do that?”

“I’m just doing my job, sir. You and the 141 are the most important ones in this whole operation. I’m just lucky to be here.” 

“You’re doin’ so much more than jus’ a wee job, bonnie,” Soap added, coming up beside Price and taking your hand in his, “You saved us today. No doubt about it.”

“Let us show you, babes,” Gaz stood behind Price and Soap, looking every bit as gorgeous as he did in the profile picture the staff passed around last week when he was doing PT out in the common room.

“Oh, okay. Sure,” you nodded, “What… um…” 

Ghost stepped forward, pushing past Price and lifted the bottom of his mask. You gasped, shocked to see part of his face, and then, he pulled you in for a long kiss. The feeling of his tongue slipping against yours was like a dream, and you sighed into him, feeling like you had absolutely lost your mind. 

“Such a good girl,” Ghost purred, “You deserve a prize, huh?”

You whimpered, and then you felt Soap tugging off your pants, pulling off your shoes and socks, while Gaz worked on stripping your top off of you. 

“Oh, God…” You whispered, unable to think straight. 

“You alright, love?” Price asked, “My men begged me to let them thank you on their knees, and who was I to deny them?”

“Holy shit,” you said, staring between your legs as Ghost lifted his mask over his nose, sank to his knees, and began to devour your pussy like a man starving. 

You were in shock. This was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to you, and it didn’t even feel real. You were no one; just a map maker. But, you felt like a queen tonight. 

Soap sank down as well, pushing your knees apart even further, eating you right alongside Ghost, their tongues working together to bring you pleasure. You let your head fall back in blissful agony, unable to watch the pleasure that they were crafting on your swollen clit. But, Gaz was by your side, licking and suckling at your heavy tits, holding you up and telling you,

“Watch them, lovie. See how thankful they are to have you? You are worth so much to us.”

“Thank you, lass,” Soap mumbled, talking with his mouth full of you, looking up at you through hooded eyes, “So fuckin’ good to us.”

“Aye,” Price said, stepping up behind Ghost and Soap, pushing their heads into you even deeper, making them bury their mouths in your pussy, “Tha’s it lads, show her what a good fuckin’ girl she is. You’d be fuckin’ dead without her. Go on.”

“Oh, my God,” you moaned, “I’m gonna come!”

“Fuck, yes, love,” Ghost groaned, “Give it to us.”

You gritted your teeth as you felt your whole body tense, and then… you were launched into a toe-curling explosion of pleasure. Your pussy was fluttering, its muscles pulsating for the two men between your legs, your thighs shaking from the feeling. 

You thought they’d clean you up and set you free, but as soon as Soap and Ghost licked you through your orgasm, lapping up your slick come, Price was yanking them away from you, crawling between your legs and taking their place. 

He was so rough, so aggressive, and he ate you in a way that made you feel electrified. You were frozen in place, hanging on every lick and suck and kiss with his bristly beard and full lips. Then, he started to feed his tongue into your hole, writhing it inside of your entrance, trying to reach deeper and deeper inside of you to get to more of your sweet sin. 

You couldn’t help but rake your hands through his hair which made him moan, the dark vibration of it vibrating your flesh, sending you down a long spiral. Ghost and Soap were busy dragging their mouths over your tits, and Gaz was kissing your neck, all the while telling you what a perfect girl you were, how they were all so lucky to have you, and how they would spend as long as it took to remind you that you are the reason they were alive tonight.

“Thank you, love,” Price said as he slipped his tongue through your folds, “You are so beautiful. Fuck, we’re lucky, aren’t we, lads?”

“Hell yes,” Gaz growled darkly, sucking on the soft skin of your neck hard enough to leave a mark.

“Can I put my fingers inside of you, pretty girl?” Price begged, “I wanna touch this sweet little cunt so bad.”

You nodded, helplessly,

“Please touch me.”

“Oh,” his face contorted into a look of disbelief as he stuck his thick finger inside your hole, “Oh, fuck. Feel this, mate. Holy fuck.”

Ghost peered down where Price was fingering you, in and out, slow and steady, and he put his own finger in next to his captain’s. You watched his eyes roll back in his head,

“Bloody hell. She’s so soft. Such a perfect cunt.”

You were trembling so hard that you could feel it in your bones, and you began to come as they touched you inside of your pussy. 

“Tha’s our good fuckin’ girl,” Soap said, coming up from your tight nipple to kiss your mouth, “Come for us, again. So gorgeous.”

You came so hard that you had tears in your eyes, and you looked down at Price in shock. He looked back at you, licking through your lips in long, slow passes, twisting his finger in and out, fucking you on his hand through your wet, silky come. 

Gaz stepped around, and Price moved so that he could have his turn with you, and he took his time. He teased you, using the tip of his long, pink tongue to barely touch your clit, wiggling it up and down, making you squirm. Ghost and Price took turns with Soap kissing and sucking your sensitive breasts and feeding their tongues into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

“Such a delicious pussy, babe. I’d eat you every fuckin’ day,” Gaz groaned. 

He kissed your pussy lips as if it was your mouth, making out with your cunt, using his tongue like he was trying to pull out more and more of your come. Then, he added two of his fingers inside of you and pressed them down, opening up your hole so that he could shove his tongue inside. 

His fingers and his tongue began to piston in and out of you, working you into a frenzy. 

“Oh, fuck! Gaz! Please…” You begged, still on edge from your prior orgasms.

“Mm-hm,” he grunted, encouraging you while his mouth was working you into a froth.

“You’re doin’ so well for us, bonnie,” Soap praised you, kissing your lips as they hung open in a moan.

“I’m… oh, fuck! I’m coming again! I’m com–mngh! Angh!” Your words were trapped in your chest, quickly replaced by your screams.

Gaz moaned as you came for him, fucking you faster with his huge hand, making lurid noises with the wetness of your cunt. 

Your whole body was limp, and you felt like you were high. Price lay you gently down on the table and lazily fondled your breasts, squeezing them and plucking softly at your swollen nipples. He smiled at you, purring his praise from deep in his chest,

“You did such a good job, 557.”

“She really did, Cap,” Gaz agreed, wiping his lip and sucking the juices he collected from his fingertips.

Soap stepped around to peer down at your well-loved pussy, dipping his own thumb in and out ever so gently,

“Didnae doubt her for a moment. Our bonnie girl did so well.”

“I wonder how we can thank her for doing such a good job for us tonight, huh, Cap?” Ghost chuckled.

You watched as he tugged off his belt and began to pull down his fly. Your eyes widened, looking up at Captain Price for his reaction. The captain wore a wolf’s grin, his teeth white and sharp, his mouth still hungry,

“I dunno, Riley,” he unbuckled his own trousers to reveal his massive, throbbing cock, “But, I bet we can think of somethin’.”

“What do you think, babe?” Gaz had his long, hard cock in his hands, and he began rubbing it gently all over your face, “Are you ready for a little more gratitude?”

Suddenly, you realized that Soap had replaced his thumb with his drooling cockhead, rubbing himself all over your wet flesh, dipping just the tip into your creamy hole,

“We’re just so fuckin’ proud of you, lass. Good girls need rewards, don’t they?”