#i guarantee there are many books by black authors that are a better starting point for discussions of racism and slavery in america

[thoughtsofthegirlwiththecurl]

Don't make me tap the "Lumping all WOC authors into YA regardless of what they actually write and then defending an all-white, all-male literary canon from the same WOC authors' claims of racism based off 2 out-of-context twitter screenshots is NOT a good look" sign!

[masonpelt]

Stop Letting Fame Trump Talent In Publishing And Entrepreneurship

Neil Gaiman is known as one of the greatest living authors. In ’98, when he pitched his publisher the idea for American Gods, it was approved from a short description. Were American Gods the first book of an unknown writer, guaranteeing its publication would have taken more than a letter with an idea.

Even 25 years ago, Gaiman was branded as a world-class author. If he wasn’t broadly a household name yet, he was well known among those who mattered to a publisher—people who would buy his books.

A talentless hack who is also famous has a better chance of getting published and selling a hundred thousand copies than an unknown author as talented as Gaiman. Fame drives sales like a business superpower that can compensate for a lack of talent and vision. This is true in nearly every industry, not just publishing.

Consumers seem hungry for someone to step out in a black turtleneck, one arm extended, to hand out the next generation of phones. Fame works like a snowball rolling downhill, facilitating more fame. Profiles of the crazy ones who changed the world are jumped at by readers and writers alike.

The world isn’t filled with Steve Jobs’, in part because Steve Jobs wasn’t the god-like man we know. The picture painted by a marketing team, media, and eager consumers isn’t real. Jobs was just a man, not the technical thinker he’s often portrayed as.

Like all larger-than-life figures, Jobs is a tapestry. Threads of reality, woven with points of business professors, human ideals, moral lessons, and yarns from a marketing department. Jobs standing on a stage announcing the iPod was nearly as much a construct as Zuse standing on Mount Olympus.

A charismatic figure can add a few trillion in economic value to a business. Steve Wozniak created a microcomputer capable of being the Apple I appears predestined. Without Jobs, Wozniak probably would have been Linus Torvalds, a titan of computing who built a technology many rely on but few can name.

Everyone wants to be a flashy Steve Jobs figure in the modern tech entrepreneur economy. It takes less talent to be a mystical public figure than to create something valuable. Media outlets like Forbes prop up many frauds.

Here are a few alumni of the Forbes ’30 under 30′

Caroline Ellison, pleaded guilty to wire and securities fraud.

Obinwanne Okeke, jailed for ten years for masterminding an $11 million email scam.

Charlie Javice, being sued by JPMorgan Chase for faking customer records.

Martin Shkreli, sentenced to 7 years in prison for fraud.

That’s just scratching the surface. Elizabeth  Holmes, who wore a black turtleneck, a not-so-subtle nod to the a Apple co-founder, made Forbes ’30 under 30′ list for her blood-testing startup Theranos. Holmes is currently in prison for fraud because the technology behind Theranos never worked.

In the land of “visionary” tech entrepreneurs, hype is power, driving sales, attracting funding, and reducing scrutiny. Companies masquerade as tech-heavy when they are not. WeWork’s business model was always subleasing office space, but it reached a $47 billion valuation pretending it was a tech firm.

Technology scales efficiently, unlike restaurants or real estate. Investors want to invest in firms that will scale. Entrepreneurs want funding. Business consultants and columnists liked saying every company is a tech company.

A lot of companies pretend to be in tech. An automotive leasing company puts on the corporate turtleneck to raise funds and self-promote as a “fin-tech startup”. They have no tech because they have no Wozniak. They don’t even have a Jobs who plays the part of a visionary well; they have a PR firm and stolen valor.

As said, talentless hacks who start famous have a better chance of getting published than an unknown author as talented as Gaiman. So now everyone is trying to be famous. If you want to stop seeing headlines of entrepreneurs defrauding investors, and customers, stop letting them get famous before they’ve created anything.

Article by Mason Pelt of Push ROI. First published in PushROI.com on February 3, 2023. Image created using AI.

[rostovs-lover]

dalí on tuesday

charlie dalton x reader | cursing, smoking, brief mentions of sexual things, charlie (probably) has daddy issues, cameron | she/her pronouns | fluff | wc.2562

i am in love with charlie, this is now a charlie dalton centric blog, also ignore how terrible the title is please

anon : Hi!! I love your blog! can I request a charlie Dalton x reader fluff where reader is an artist and he visits them while they're painting? (maybe they end up wiping paint on his face?) I don't know, something really sweet at cute <33333

Charlie Dalton had been resigned to relish in small pleasures to keep himself sane at school, never did he think the library would be one of those. More specifically, the painter tucked into the basement of the library. 

                            ───☮︎───

     Charlie Dalton was a connoisseur of many things. Pretty girls, expensive wine, shitty poetry, and hand rolled cigarettes - to name a few. His imprisonment at Wellington made only one of those things readily available. So he settled - boxes of cheap smokes bought through upperclassmen, bottles of grocery store wine someone would sneak in from a party, and the two girls that occasionally came with Knox. The shitty poetry was always on deck, he had that at least. It was a tragedy to be resigned to such a bland life, there was absolutely no carpe diem-ing happening in a school that held adolescent boys to uniforms.

      It was miserable, truly, but Charlie scrapped by on the thought that soon enough there would be no more stuffy Catholic school and he could finally have a taste of freedom. In the meantime, he would have what little fun he could. The meets in the cave were always the highlight of the week. A place where he could talk and people would listen, and not because they had to but because they enjoyed it. They enjoyed his words and thoughts and presence. No one else had ever really seemed to enjoy Charlie’s presence. They could tolerate it, handle it, but they always had more pressing matters. A business meeting to attend, a bill to pay, a dinner to go to. Always something just a little bit more important and never quite enough time for Charlie. But the other Dead Poets, they valued him. He wasn’t just a kid, a college tuition to pay and a life to layout. He was a person, with interests and hobbies.

      It had been there, in the safe haven of the cave, that the idea for the library first came up. Meeks had already talked Pitts into coming, Neil didn’t take much convincing at all, Todd was also easy to lure, Cameron groaned about leaving school grounds but refused to be left out, and Knox agreed to go but only if Nuwanda came too. Charlie had already started to cover what there was to do at a library, read?

      Meeks dove into the technical manuals and Pitts followed tentatively, cradling their science project in his arms. Todd had followed Neil to the S authors, Cameron was trying to chat up the woman at the register, and God only knew what Knox was doing. He had been stranded with few options. He could find the geniuses and be talked over for the next hour or third wheel Neil but that guaranteed intruding on something he probably shouldn’t. The polite thing to do would be to rescue Cameron from making a complete fool of himself, throwing bad pick up lines at a clearly uninterested college student, but it was amusing to watch.

      Charlie settled on trying to find Knox, at least then he could have some company. Said company was absolutely nowhere to be found. The rows of shelves wound in a confusing maze and Charlie was lost before he could even begin to look. Weaving around he did come face-to-face with a rather large picture of Charles Dickens that made him recoil. It was perched just at eye level above a short staircase and it seemed to judge his every movement. Charlie followed the carpeted stairs down to escape Mister Dickens’ strange little beard and beady black eyes.

      The further down the steps Charlie descended the brighter it appeared. The lower level was the children’s section. Considerably more fun than science books or Shakespeare. The big oak counter was abandoned but the lights were still on. He was alone, still.

      Charlie sighed, sitting down in one of the bright red wooden chairs. He was much too big for it but it held well under his weight. A sad stuffed bear stared dully into him from the green glossy table.

      “Well hello,” He mumbled, picking it up under the arms, “And you must be?” He cleared his throat to take on a gruff baritone, “Mister... Bearington,” Charlie sighed, that was bad. He dropped the bear into his lap, “This is so stupid,”

      “Bearington?”

      Charlie shot around in the chair, tipping himself off center and stumbling to his feet, bear still clutched in his arms, “Where the hell did you come from?”

      “A few blocks over, walked here actually.” You turned back to your work. A painting. Not just a painting, Charlie realized, a mural. It stretched the length of the wall, roughly sketched in pencil and waiting to be finished.

      He blinked, “That’s good. The wall I mean,”

      “Thank you,” Your face flustered and Charlie took notice, “It’s not much of anything yet, just an outline. It’ll look better painted.”

      He took a few steps closer, sidling up to you, “What’s it supposed to be?”

      “A forest,” You pointed to a rotund blob perched on a long line, “That’s an owl, and there’s going to be a fox somewhere down in the grass,”

      Charlie grinned, “That’s an owl?”

      “That-” you tapped the blob, “Is a shape, objectively. Subjectively, it’s an owl.”

      His brow creased, “Subjectively it’s an owl? That's like saying Mister Bearington is a rabbit, subjectively,”

      You stared at him, baffled. It was almost irritating that he could so casually come down to your domain and invade your creative bubble. And it was even worse that he talked to himself as a stuffed bear but now he was challenging your judgment on what was and was not subjectively an owl. But he had a wonderful smile and it lessened the intrusion. Plus, you had never seen a teenage boy develop an attachment to a stuffed bear as quickly as he had, “What’s your name?”

      “Nuwanda,” He grinned, setting his chin atop his bear’s plush head.

      “Nuwanda?” You blinked at him, “That’s… neat. I’ve never heard that before.”

      “What can I say? The only Nuwanda this side of Vermont. What’s your name?”

      As you opened your mouth to answer several sets of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Knox spun around the corner first, closely followed by Pitts and Meeks.

      “Charlie!” Knox called, “We gotta go before Cameron proposes to the clerk.”

      You looked at the boy in front of you, “Is Charlie short for Nuwanda, or just a nickname?”

      He shrugged, “I’m Nuwanda, subjectively. It was truly a pleasure meeting you. Can’t wait to see your thing DaVinci!” He set the stuffed bear back on the table as he made his way out of the room. With Charlie’s energy gone it became much quieter and you were plunged back into the impressionistic outline of your artwork.

      The next time a library trip was suggested Charlie didn’t completely dread it. Yes, it was still numbingly boring because it was a library and he didn’t have clerks to fall in love with, people to write love letters to, anyone to kiss in the aisles, or a spaceship to build, but he did have his own personal Van Gough to torment.

      The lower level was the first place he went, not even hanging his coat on the rack inside the big double doors. He made his way past Cameron’s preoccupied receptionist and under Dickens’ hard glower. Halfway down the steps, the smell hit Charlie. Wet paint.

      You had just picked out a brush when he pulled one of the wooden chairs next to your station. He sat in it backwards, holding Mister Bearington out in front of him, “Never got your name Monet,”

      “Well, it's not that. Or Da Vinci.” You stroked the brush up the grassy outline.

      “Do you want me to guess?”

      You had yet to look at him, “Nope,”

      “Are you gonna tell me?”

      “Should I?”

      “Obviously, I told you my name.”

      You set the brush down and turned to face him, “(Name).”

      “Pretty,”

      Charlie Dalton liked many things and the musty old library uptown had never been one of them. It had ancient red carpets and gaudy gold ceilings and it was trying too hard to look regal. So it was a sheer shock when he began to leap at the suggestion of going and even more so when he chose to go by himself one afternoon. Naturally, the other poets followed him, they had to.

      Charlie didn’t dally upstairs, waving hi to the clerk and rushing down to the children’s section. A sign was posted outside the entrance warning of wet paint but he stepped around it.

      “You’re making progress Picasso!” He set his hands on his hips and took in the wall.

      You turned back to look at him, “Did you not see the caution: wet paint, do not enter sign?”

      “Oh no I saw it,” He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, “It's bright orange, hard to miss, really,”

      “So you just chose to ignore it?”

      He nodded, making his way over to sit by you on the ground, “I choose to ignore lots of things, it really makes life easier,”

      You shook your head, “Are you just going to sit here and bother me?”

      “Yes, that's actually the whole reason I came today, believe it or not.”

      You blubbered in vague disbelief, “Please tell me you’re not serious,”

      “Dead serious,” Charlie grinned, leaning closer, “I had to see how your weird owl was going. And also make sure you hadn’t gone mad and cut your own ear off yet,”

      “You’ve already used the Van Gogh joke, Charles,”

      “Maybe I want your ear,”

      You paused, “You… what?”

      Charlie’s confidence cracked, “That was bad. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to sound that way. It was like, a bad pickup line? Because Van Gogh cut his ear off to send to his girlfriend,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Sorry,”

      “I mean if I had to pick someone to give my ear too I guess you would be my first choice?”

      Charlie looked at you, eyebrows pinched together, “Why?”

      You shrugged, “No one else has asked, first come first serve.” You dipped your brush back into the blue paint and went to work on a patch of flowers.

      “Huh, well I do appreciate it,” Charlie scooted closer, leaning over your shoulder. He was close, very close. When you took a breath you could smell his cologne and whatever it was he used in his hair and you could feel the edge of his sunglasses brush your ear. He brought an arm around to dip his finger into the soft sky colour on your palette. And then he wiped it on your nose.

      You gasped sharply at the foreign feeling, snapping your head to the side to glare at him, “Why?!”

      Charlie snickered, leaning back, “The opportunity presented itself, how could I just let that pass?”

      You reached back, squirting a touch of purple paint over the palm of your hand, “That was truly a horrible idea,”

      Charlie shot up just as you did, stumbling backwards, “I’m sorry-” He stuck his hands up in surrender, “I regret my actions and if I could take them back I would,”

      “Hmm, but you can’t” You took a step closer, “Surrender now and it doesn’t have to get any messier than this,”

      He pointed towards your paint coated hand, “Do not,”

      You grinned, “I might,”

      “I’m begging,”

      “Fine-” You offered him your other hand, “Truce?”

      Charlie mulled it over for a moment, “Fine, truce,” He grabbed your clean hand and you used it to pull him towards you.

          “Why on earth would you trust me?” You tugged him even closer as he shrieked and smeared your hand down his cheek, “There, now we’re even,”

      Getting distracted by your triumph gave Charlie the upper hand. He pulled you to him the same you had done to him and pressed his cheek flush to yours. The paint was cold against your skin and you jolted back, away from him.

      “Vile,” You hissed, “You are vile and evil. That's so cold. You will pay, I hope you know that.”

      Charlie snorted, “Oh please, what’re you gonna do?”

      “You underestimate me, you ass, I’ll figure something out,”

      “Will you?” Charlie grinned, “I will be waiting in anticipation,”

      “You better be,”

      Meeks elbowed back into Cameron’s ribs, “You’re going to knock me over,”

      Cameron craned his neck further to peek around the corner into the children’s section, “I just want to see, let me look,”

      “Nothing is happening-” Meeks snipped, “They’re just talking now and I might be able to hear if you could can it!”

      Cameron rolled his eyes, “Of course, whatever you say,”

      “Will you shut up?” Knox batted at Cameron’s shoulder, “They’ll see us, we’re not super well hidden,”

      “If you don’t stop talking they’ll realize we’re here,” Pitts mumbled, rolling his eyes. Cameron started to rebuttal, turning to look at Gerard but the motion knocked Meeks out of place and he gasped, stumbling forwards. This did indeed draw Charlie’s attention.

      “Meeks, what the hell?” Charlie snapped. He was in a state, sunglasses askew in his hair, paint smeared from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth, and his shirt was wrinkled away from his collarbone.

      Meeks stared, “Hi Charlie. Are there any textbooks down here, uh… the science ones?”

      Knox groaned, stepping out from behind the wall as well, “We wanted to see why you came here on a Tuesday afternoon by yourself,”

      Charlie blubbered, “Did you all come? Is Keating there too?”

      “He could be,” Meeks shrugged.

      Charlie rolled his eyes, “Will you leave, I’ll be upstairs in a second,” The other poets nodded, scampering up the steps to the first level.

      “Assholes, should have known they’d come,” Charlie sighed, adjusting the sunglasses atop his head, “I need to go before they decide to intrude again. I’ll see you soon though, anxiously anticipating payback,”

      He was almost out the door when you bucked up the courage to call out to him, “Charlie, wait.” You let him turn back to you before continuing, “Could I have your phone number?”

      He clicked his teeth, “Don’t have one, private school. But I’ll find the library number in the books and try to shoot you a call sometime,” He winked and started back up to his friends.

      Knox was waiting at the landing with a handful of tissues, which he shoved into Charlie’s hands, “So you’re gonna read your stupid poem about tits at a Dead Poets meet and then not tell us you’ve got a girlfriend?”

      Charlie grabbed the tissues, “Not my girlfriend, I meet her like two weeks ago,”

      “Didn’t stop Knox,” Neil elbowed him.

      Charlie wiped at his face, “Well I’m not Knox. I like her painting, she's good.”

      “It looks like she was painting you,” Cameron slapped at Charlie’s chest and he threw the tissues at him in retaliation.

      “Shut up, at least my library worker actually talks to me,”

      Cameron fumbled with the dirty material, batting it away from his chest, “You dick!”

      Charlie grinned, pulling his glasses down and starting towards the door. Something about it was thrilling, having this to himself. A little secret that he and you shared. His personal Salvador Dalí, something to look forwards to besides bad tobacco and Keating’s eccentric lectures. It was bright and exciting and he felt seen. He felt important. The blue paint he had stolen from your tray was still on the tip of his pointer finger and he wondered how long it would be until he could see you again.

 ( @interwebseriesfan24 )

[itsclydebitches]

(WLW anon) I really don’t like the “bad rep is better then none at all”. I hate that. We should want good rep, because bad rep has been used time and time again by homophobes as to say we shouldn’t get representation. To me it’s not “gay can have the same flaws as het”, it’s “fix the flaws in the het”. Also I know Renora being independent was a good, I was just saying in comparison BB. Also, yes, they were separated, but also didn’t stop thinking about each other. Especially bad with Yang.

Indulge me for a moment because I want to take a trip down memory lane and list some—just some—of the queer rep that has been important to me over the years:

Ellen comes out both as herself and as her character… years later, she’s a hated millionaire who is criticized for how she treats her staff

The wildly influential Buffy gives us two women entering a loving relationship… except then Tara is killed off, Willow goes evil for a time, and Buffy comes under fire for Joss Whedon’s everything

The beloved and respectable headmaster of one of the most popular book series ever published is revealed to be gay… except it doesn’t count because it wasn’t in the text and now all of Harry Potter is cancelled because JKR is transphobic

Kurt is an unambiguously gay teen in a hugely popular TV series, acting as one of the first overt representations a generation has seen… except he’s way too stereotypical and Glee is a joke now

Orange is the New Black gives us a number of queer women, including one of our first trans characters… but isn’t it problematic that they’re all criminals?

Brooklyn Nine-Nine hosts an out gay captain and gives us a bisexual coming out story that resonated with many, myself included… except now we’re supposed to hate all the characters on principle because they’re cops

Korra and Asami walk off into the spiritual sunset together… but they never kiss or anything, so that doesn’t count either

Steven Universe gives us a queer relationship and a wedding… but it’s an issue that this is just a kid’s show and, really, does it count when the rep is embodied by space rocks whose entire species only creates a single gender? Feels like a cop-out

Same with Good Omens. Yeah, Crowley and Aziraphale clearly love each other… but you never see them kiss or declare their intentions. It’s great ace rep though! Unless you want to level the criticism that asexual characters are always nonhuman

A character intended to be a minor guest becomes a show staple and eventually declares his love for one of the two main characters… except then Castiel immediately dies, Dean doesn’t respond, and they never meet on screen again

I finished Queen’s Gambit the other day and the main character had a one-night stand with a woman! … but everyone is talking about how bisexuality is used to represent her lowest point, so that’s bad too

I could go on for literal pages. Some of these arguments I agree with (Dumbledore), others I’ve pushed back against quite strongly (Crowley and Aziraphale), but all of them are valid criticisms depending on what part of the queer community you’re in and what your expectations are. My point here is that it’s all “bad rep.” I mean that seriously. If anyone reading this is scrambling for the comment section to say why [insert media title here] is actually fantastic rep, I guarantee that someone disagrees. Or if they don’t, give it some time. Just wait until the characterization becomes offensively outdated, or another part of the story ruins the relationship, or it comes out that the author did something truly horrific, or the terminology changes and it’s labeled as “problematic” now… just wait. At some point, any rep we feel is good rep now will be criticized, cancelled, and dragged through the mud. The rep that I personally haven’t seen much push-back against—like the beloved Captain Jack Harkness in Doctor Who, or Schitts Creek that just won a ton of awards—is wrapped up in the criticism, “So it’s all just about able-bodied, cis, (mostly) white dudes, huh? :/”  Even the argument that queer characters need to be written by queer authors doesn’t hold up. I absolutely adored Sense8. “Wow, a gay main character in a loving relationship with another gay man, both of whom enter a loving poly relationship with a woman, another lesbian trans main character who marries the love of her life on screen, an entire cast arguably queer due to them sharing orgy scenes centered around the emotional intimacy they share, everyone survives, and this was written by two trans women! Great, right?” Well, not according to the wealth of opinions explaining how Sense8 is horrible rep, actually. Every piece of rep we’ve got is either currently flawed or will become flawed in the future.

So what do we do with that?

That’s where my “I’d rather have bad rep than no rep at all” comes in. For me, that’s not waving the white flag. That’s not an oath that I won’t expect better rep in the future (I do) or that I won’t criticize the rep we get (BOY DO I), but rather just an acknowledgement of reality. The vast majority—if not the entirety—of rep is “bad rep” in one way or another, but I’d still rather have it than nothing at all. Because I’ve lived just long enough and studied media just enough to know what nothing looked like. It was watching all queer characters meet untimely deaths. Before that it was watching queer characters be derided and treated as jokes. Before that it was nothing but coding, where queer characters didn’t exist except in our own headcanons and interpretations. Obviously “bad rep” covers a very large range of issues and “They haven’t even confirmed this relationship yet” is a bigger issue than “This queer character embodies one or two, mild stereotypes,” but ultimately I’d take any of it over nothing at all. And enjoying what we’ve currently got doesn’t mean I’m willing to settle for it indefinitely.

To use an iffy analogy, imagine there’s a factory. This factory makes plates. So. Many. Plates. Big plates, small plates, plain plates, decorative plates, plates for every possible occasion in your life—and everyone with a steak for dinner is pleased as punch. You though? You’ve got soup. You need a bowl. Your entire life you’ve been struggling to eat your soup off a plate (it doesn’t work) and listening to friends and family claim that the plate with a slightly raised edge could be a bowl if you squint (it’s not). To say it’s frustrating is an understatement.

But then, one day, the factory starts producing bowls too. Hurray! Except as soon as you get your hands on one, you’re told you really shouldn’t be using it, let alone praising it. Look at the state of that bowl! It’s cracked right down the middle, ugly as hell, shoddily made all around… you’re not really going to settle for that, are you? And no, you obviously still want the factory to produce better bowls, but at the same time, this is a bowl. You’ve never gotten one before and you can finally enjoy your meal, even if the soup leaks at times. Sometimes a lot. But you’re still feeling better about your meal than you ever have before. And what you then begin to realize is that lots of the plates are a mess too. They also have cracks, they’re also ugly, many are also shoddily made. The difference is that the factory is producing so many plates at such a rapid pace that every steak eater is able to get by. One plate breaks completely? You’ve got a thousand fallbacks. Don’t like the look of this one? A thousand other options. You disagree about what “shoddily made” means? Luckily there are enough plates that everyone can find what they prefer! But the bowls… there’s only a few. Some are really expensive. Others are only available for a limited time before they suddenly disappear. Your bowl breaks and you have to wait months, years sometimes, to get another one. You’re constantly told to go buy this one obscure bowl no one else has heard about and yeah, you like it... but you’d also like to buy one of the bowls everyone is already enjoying. You find yourself looking at the plates and thinking, “I’d like that. I’d like to have so many options that the flaws, while still a problem, are much more bearable.” You’re still going to demand that the factory get its shit together, you’re still going to (rightly) complain about the awful quality of your bowl… but it’s still nice to have a bowl, period. There are still things you like about it, even if it’s a mess: the color, the size, the beauty of the shape of it. Its potential. You’re still pleased you have something to enjoy and that helps serve the need you’re looking to fill, even if that something is imperfect.

That’s “bad rep is better than no rep.” To bring this very long response back to Blake/Yang, I don’t think their problems negate their benefits. Is their relationship currently non-canonical and filled with a number of writing issues everyone has a right to be angry about? Yup. I express that anger a great deal. Are they still half of a team on a very popular show that is (presumably) set to be canonized as queer? Yup. I’d much rather live in a world where big shows like RWBY try to include queer rep and fail in a multitude of ways—with the expectation and hope that they’ll continue to improve—rather than in a world where authors a) don’t care or b) are too scared to try. Because that’s where a “good rep or no rep” stance leads. The danger isn’t homophobes because they’re, well, homophobes. It doesn’t matter if the rep is good or not, they hate it on principle. But if queer authors writing for other queer identities, or allies writing queer identities, or even queer authors writing their own experiences (like in Sense8) continually come under non-stop fire for their attempts… there’s a good chance that many people won’t ever try. We’re already seeing that here on tumblr with young authors admitting that they wouldn’t touch [insert topic here] with a ten-foot pole because just look at what happens when you get it wrong. And authors will get things wrong because authors are fallible people forever unlearning their own ignorance. So though it might sound strange coming from a blog that has turned into such a RWBY critical space, I am glad that RWBY’s queer rep exists, despite all the frustrations that I share about it. I think a RWBY with various types of “bad” queer rep is better than a RWBY with no queer rep at all, particularly when “bad” or “good” is so intensely subjective. There’s a middle ground between passively accepting whatever we’re given, and tearing into rep with such ferocity that we end up rejecting it all. There’s a space where we can be critical of rep and embrace the parts that work for us, simultaneously.

I hope and expect the het rep will get better too, but… that’s never going to happen instantly. To quote RWBY, there’s no magic wand we can wave to fix all our problems. Rather, it will take slow, plodding, meandering, lifetimes’ worth of work to see that change occur and I personally don’t want to spend the one life I have waiting for that perfect rep to show up. Because it’s unlikely that it will. While we work, I’d rather find the good in what rep we’ve already got.  

[schleierkauz]

Q&A Highlights

Ok so bad news first: My questions were ignored. Cornelia did not clarify any of our death-related theories. Maybe next time.

There was A Lot of other stuff, though so... Enjoy!

- The stream starts with everyone wishing us a happy women’s day! Usually women in Erfurt (where the bookstore people are) get flowers but not today because... you know. Cornelia says America is starting to go back to normal, meanwhile Germany... :| Anyway. Don’t look over here.

- Cornelia says she probably won’t get the vaccine anytime soon because she’s just chilling on her farm anyway and people who have to be out in public/are vulnerable should get it first

- Question: When will Cornelia visit Germany again? In response to this, she gives us some exclusive news, not official yet, heard it here first: She’s gonna move to Italy! Apparently she bought an olive farm there which is cheaper, better for the environment (her current farm will be sold to some people who want to turn it into an organic farm) and obviously closer to Germany so she’ll be here more often. :)

- The 4th Reckless book will be released in English at some point this autumn

- There’s no definite release date for TCoR because she’s busy with Dragonrider but she hopes she’ll have finished writing it by the end of this year

- If she’s still alive after all that to work on Reckless 5, it’ll be the last book of the series... probably. She’s also working on a bunch of smaller projects with her artists in residence

- Question: What are Cornelia’s favorite stories by Jane Austen, the Brontë sister and Shakespeare? She’s not a huge fan of Austen or Brontë because she finds all those repressed emotions too exhausting to read about. With Shakespeare on the other hand she struggles to name a favorite because there’s so much greatness to choose from (she does name MacBeth and Romeo and Juliet though)

- The Black Prince’s legacy in the Reckless timeline may play a role in the next Reckless book or it might evolve into a whole other story. Either way, she’s thinking about it  👀

- Someone asks about Reckless characters and Cornelia says that Kami’en and the Dark Fairy felt very familiar to her from the start in that she always knew who they were as people. She’s not sure why that is. She thinks the Dark Fairy represents many aspects of womanhood, like the ancient forgotten Goddess. Same with Fox, who embodies different sides of that.

- If Cornelia had to date a man from the Mirrorworld, Kami’en would interest her

- Rainer Strecker randomly joins the chat to say hi and everyone is delighted

- Cornelia’s favorite book series is still Lord of the Rings

- Question: Why has the Black Prince never found his true love? Cornelia says she’s not sure that’s true - maybe he did found true love at some point and then lost it again? ‘...and they lived happily ever after’ isn’t a guaranteed outcome after all. Since he’s such a passionate man, she’s pretty sure he’s had at least one big lovestory at this point. She hasn’t asked him about that yet but hopes she’ll find out when she continues writing his story.

- Jumping off that question, Cornelia says she respects her characters’ privacy and lets them keep their secrets until the time comes to ask about them, just as she would with real people.

- Someone asks if Cornelia has ever written herself into a story and she says a part of her is in all her characters. Except the villains because she hates them. She feels closest to Fox because she also always wished she could shapeshift

- The bookstore lady jumps in and asks about Meggie, is she similar to how Cornelia was as a child? Cornelia says yes, especially because she also had a very close relationship with her father and they would bond over books. However, she always envisioned Meggie with dark hair and as a different kind of girl than she was. (Ok sidenote from me on that, I wonder what she means by ‘dark hair’? Because Meggie is explicitly blond, so like... dark blond? Or did we just unlock brunette Meggie in 2021? Cornelia-)

- Continuing the conversation, Cornelia says she doesn’t consider herself the creator of any of the characters in her stories, she feels like she met them and wrote about him but she would never say something like ‘I invented Dustfinger’ because that’s absurd. How would that even work. That’s disrespectful. No.

- Some characters pretty much demand to be written about and are very impatient (like Jacob), others are more shy and elusive and take effort to understand (like Will or Dustfinger)

- There probably won’t be another book like The Labyrinth of the Faun because it was created under such unbelievable circumstances. Cornelia does enjoy writing film scripts, though, like she did for the Wild Chicks recently

- Question: How does Cornelia come up with character names? She has a bunch of encyclopedias and when she knows where a story takes place she checks if there are any artists from there whose names she can steal. She always wants names to have meaning and to paint a picture of whatever character it belongs to. However, she says that sometimes the vibe of a name is a tricky thing: When she wrote The Thief Lord (which takes place in Italy), she thought ‘Mosca’ was the perfect name for a big strong boy. However when the time came to translate the story into Italian, the Italians told her that ‘Mosca’ sounds like the name of a tiny little fly. Oh well.

- Cornelia says a lot of readers have written to her about The Thief Lord because at one point Victor (the detective) calls Mosca (who is black) a “Mohrenkopf”. Context: ‘Mohrenkopf’ is a German slur towards black people and also an outdated name for this goddamn marshmallow cookie:

Fuck this cookie.

- Cornelia says yeah, Victor is being racist in that moment but that doesn’t mean that she, the author, is racist. Similarly, she used the term ‘Indians’ in Reckless and a lot of readers were upset which she did not anticipate. To her it’s a positive word since she admires ‘Indians’ so deeply and finds terms like ‘Native/Indigenous Americans’ very complicated. She wonders how much longer she’ll be allowed to say ‘Black Prince’

- She thinks it’s right to be vigilant about bigotry but simply searching for problematic words is dangerous because context matters

- Bookstore lady brings up Pippi Longstocking and how the N-word has been removed from modern copies (think Pippi’s father). She think’s it’s wrong because the original text is part of the cultural heritage and shouldn’t be hidden from children but instead explained. 

- Cornelia says that in America she sees the hurt that’s connected to that word but she doesn’t think it’s right to simply remove the slur and expect everything to be fine. After all, the text in which it was used is still the same so any harmful ideas would still be in there and that needs to be discussed. Simply whitewashing things doesn’t make them any less racist.

- Cornelia brings up a visual example: The Asterix comics. She always liked them but the fact that the only black character is drawn as a racist caricature is harmful and wrong. It’s time to listen when black people express how hurtful depictions like that can be. Many white people never noticed racism growing up because it never affected them and that’s why it’s important to learn

- The ‘from rags to riches’ American dream was usually reserved for white people and Cornelia thinks a lot of (white) people are waking up to that fact. The way black people are still being criminalized and the way prisons use inmates for cheap labor is horrible and like a modern kind of slavery

- The bookstore people try to say something but Cornelia is not done: We Europeans are not off the hook either because the sins and wounds of colonialism are still felt around the world, not to mention the way other countries are still exploited today. Our wealth rests on the shoulders of poorer nations. Many doors are opening and it’s difficult to step through but we have to do it and admit to the things we may have been blind to due to privilege.

- The three of them agree on that and go back to reading questions

- Question: What are Cornelia’s tips for young authors? She advises to never start writing a story on a computer, always get a notebook and collect ideas & pictures for your story. Don’t rush things. If you have more than one story, give each story its own book and feed whichever one is hungry. It’s important to follow the idea where it leads, if you use cliches your readers will recognize them. And then it just takes time and passion. And trust in your own unique voice. She paraphrases a quote by Robert Louis Stevenson who once said no one cares about stories or characters or whatever, people read books to see the world through the goggles the author puts on them. I’m sure he said it prettier, I’m paraphrasing the paraphrase.

- That said, Cornelia thinks authors who say things like “I’m writing to express my innermost turbulences” are kinda dumb. She thinks it’s important to write about the things that happen everywhere else and around yourself and to try to find voices for others, not just yourself. Just like how carpenters build furniture for everyone else, a writer should use words to build things for others, whether it’s a window or door or a hiding place.

- Speaking of notebooks, as most of us probably know Cornelia has a lot of those and occasionally publishes them on her website. She says she’d love to let people look through them in person, maybe at the new farm in Germany (Cornelia sure does love farms)

- Speaking of writing things on paper, all three of them stress that everyone should write more letters because one day they’ll be old letters and curious people will want to read them, just as we like to read old documents now.

- Last question: How come both the Inkworld and the Mirrorworld feature a character called Bastard? Cornelia thinks that’s a good question and she should probably think about that. (Am I stupid? Are they talking about Basta? I’m confused)

...And with that, the livestream ends. They’ll get back together to do this again two months from now, until then: I’m going tf to sleep

[takerfoxx]

In response to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, my (former) idols

I really didn’t want to have to do this.

So in addition to…=gestures vaguely=…all of that, the last few months have been kind of sucky when it comes to learning some really unpleasant things about artists that I looked up to, admired, and was in fact inspired by. I’ve already spoken about the Speaking Out movement revealing a lot of ugly behavior from various wrestlers, some of which I was big fans of, and then later we got Chris Jericho being a full-on MAGA. Yeah, that all sucked. But those were just performers whose work I enjoyed watching. The one that really hurt were writers who I deeply admired, whose stories I love, and who I was heavily influenced by.

The first, of course, was finding out that JK Rowling, the author of perhaps the single biggest YA fantasy series of all time Harry Potter, is a TERF. This really sucked for a number of reasons. Firstly, I really like Harry Potter! I mean, I’m not a super fan or anything. I came into it when things were kind of dying down, like the whole book series had already been released and there were only a few movies left, but I still really enjoyed it, have all the books and movies and a fair amount of merchandise swag, including a nifty wand I got at Universal Studios. Shit, I got two replicas of the Sword of Griffyindor, thanks to them screwing up my order in my favor and sending me a duplicate! They’re on my wall right across from me as I type this!

But in addition to writing a book series I really liked, JK Rowling was supposed to be one the good guys. She’s been vocally progressive, often openly comes down on British right-wing nonsense, has supported various persecuted minorities, and is on record as being one of the few self-made billionaires to actually stop being a billionaire for a time because she donated so much money to charity. And while we mock it now, her revealing Dumbledore as gay was a huge deal at the time. Plus, she cultivated this reputation as Auntie Jo, that cool, supportive aunt we all wanted.

But for a while her stock has been dropping. Her preference for confirming “representation” via tweets instead of explicitly putting it in the text of her stories has raised the question of queer-baiting, especially with a whole-ass movie with a young Dumbledore and Grindelwald to make their relationship explicit but failing to do so. The whole Nagini thing from the latest Fantastic Beasts movie was pretty gross. And re-examination of various problematic elements from the original novels has rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Now, none of these really looked to be intentionally malicious, of course. Just about everyone’s early work will have problematic elements; that’s just how people work. And the later stuff smacked more of ignorance than anything. But after all this time, it’s like, c’mon. You should know better by now.

But the biggie came when her transphobic views finally came to light. Now, this one had been brewing for a while, due to some questionable likes and statements on her twitter. But then she decided to just go public and published what essentially amounts to a TERF manifesto, one with a very “love the sinner, hate the sin” condescending attitude and had a real persecution complex air to it.

Now, I’m not going to go into detail about what the manifesto was about, what the circumstances surrounding it were, or how wrong it was. It’s already been raked over the coals, dissected, answered, and debunked in detail by people far more qualified than me, so odds are, you’re already well aware of its contents and the subsequent rebuttals. But the gist of it comes down to her basically believing that transwomen are actually cis men claiming to be trans so as to infiltrate and invade female-only spaces.

Yeah.

Okay, that’s gross, but…why? Why is someone so noted for being progressive and wanting to foster an inclusive environment making this the hill of exclusion that she wants to die on?

Well, that’s where things get tricky. She mentions that prior to Harry Potter, her first marriage was highly physically and sexually abusive, and when she escaped from that, she had no place to go, leading her to be homeless for a time.

Oh.

Well, that makes sense. Someone goes through a highly traumatic experience with a member of the opposite sex, has no support structure when she escapes it, is left to fend for herself, only to suddenly get rocketed into fame, fortune, and influence, which in turn leads to a Never Again mentality. She was hurt, no one was there to help her, and now she’s afraid of men invading women-only spaces to victimize others like she was victimized. So…literally transphobic. Literally a Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist.

Guys, this is so fucked up. Like, how do you even approach something like this? She’s a victim in every sense of the word, so of course she’s going to have physiological damage and a warped view of things. I mean, if I found out that a close friend of mine went through the same thing and had the same prejudices, I would be nothing but sympathetic! I mean, I’d still do what I can to convince her to overcome those prejudices, but I’d still show sympathy and support for what she went through.

Abuse warps people. There’s a reason why so many abusers are abuse survivors themselves. It makes you terrified of being hurt again and often causes people to adopt toxic behaviors, beliefs, and reactions to protect themselves. I’ve already talked about it at length while discussing She-Ra and its own handling of the cycle of abuse, which included franks discussions of Catra’s horrible behavior, why she was the way she was, while never losing sympathy for her and rooting for her to overcome it. So if JK Rowling is an abuse survivor, is it really right to come down on her for having warped views because of that abuse?

But that’s the problem. See, she isn’t your troubled friend that you’re trying to help. She isn’t your cousin Leslie who’s a really sweet person but unfortunately adopted some bad ideals due to trauma suffered. She JK freakin’ ROWLING, one of the most famous, wealthy, and influential women in the world. She has a platform of millions, if not billions, which means her voice lends credibility to her bigoted beliefs. Alt-righters and other TERFs have already swooped upon this for giving validation to their awful beliefs, which puts trans people even more at risk. And as horrible as Rowling’s experiences might have been, the trans community is often the victim of far worse, and they don’t have a mountain of money and an army of defenders to protect them like she does. I’ve said it time and time again: just because you’re a victim, that doesn’t give you the right to victimize others! And bringing things back to Catra, as much as I loved her redemption in the final season, she was still a TERRIBLE PERSON for a huge chunk of the show, one that needed to be stood up to and stopped.

So yeah. That’s the messiness that is JK Rowling.

Now, let’s talk about the one that really hurts. Let’s talk about Joss Whedon.

I’ve made no secret of what a huge Whedon fan I am. Unlike Rowling, I was a HUUUUUGE superfan. Seeing Serenity for the first time in theaters was akin to a religious awakening to me as a storyteller, making it one of my top three movies of all time. Firefly is my favorite show ever. And I adored Buffy, Angel, and Dollhouse as well. I love Cabin in the Woods and The Avengers. The very first fanfic I ever wrote was a Firefly fanfic that disappeared along with my old laptop. I know his style isn’t for everyone, but I cannot understate how much of a personal inspiration he is to me as a writer.

And like Rowling, Joss was supposed to be one of the good guys! Buffy was monumental in pushing the needle when it came to female empowerment. Will and Tara were groundbreaking as a gay couple. He’s been outspoken for years about his feminist views and beliefs and was seen as one of the most prominent and influential feminist voices in Hollywood!

And then things started to go bad.

One day he was on top of the world, the mastermind behind the first two Avenger movies. And the next, it seemed like he was in freefall. It’s hard to really pinpoint exactly when the change took place. Some would say him being brought in as a last-minute substitute for Zack Snyder to take over on Justice League after Snyder had to leave due to family tragedy, and the subsequent awful critical reception to that film tarnishing his image, even if those were very unique circumstances that couldn’t really be blamed on him. Others might point to Age of Ultron’s less than stellar reception, as well as criticism of some questionable jokes and certain creative decisions regarding the character of Black Widow, which then led to a more critical examination of how Whedon continues to write female characters, as while his work might have been revolutionary in the 90’s, his failure to evolve with the times had meant that many of his portrayals are now woefully outdated and problematic, with his vision for a Batgirl movie getting hit with a lot of backlash as a result.

Again, I’m not going to go into too much detail, as this is all public knowledge and can be easily looked up, but overall it seemed that Whedon entered into a period where he was getting criticized more than he was celebrated, and his image of a guaranteed hit maker was now in doubt.

But all of this wasn’t the big problem. All creators go through rises and slumps, and everyone hits points where they get hit with a barrage of criticism; that’s just part of being a public creative figure, especially a progressive one. And had nothing happened after, it would have probably faded, got forgotten, and Whedon would have moved onto the next project with no fuss.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t just a minor slump in his career. Instead, it was the priming of the pump.

In 2016, Whedon divorced his wife of sixteen years, Kai Cole, and in an open letter, Kai Cole accused him of being a serial cheater, who would have affairs with a great many women, from co-workers, to actresses, to friends, to even his fans. And in addition to raising questions of him possibly abusing his position as showrunner to elicit sex from those working on his projects, there also is the ugly question of how could someone who speaks so highly of women then go and backstab the person who was supposed to be the most important woman in his life, as well as lying to her and denying her the autonomy of deciding whether or not she even wanted to continue to have a relationship with him?

Furthermore, Whedon himself has not explicitly denied these accusations, and comments made by him seem only to confirm them.

Now if you’ll recall, I reacted publicly to this news, and despite my admiration of Whedon’s work, I came down on Kai Cole’s side, and stated that while things like marriage issues and infidelity were no one’s business but that of the couple’s, it did raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about how Whedon treated the women in his life and he really needed to get his shit in order.

But hey, a messy private life and a guy falling into temptation isn’t that big of a deal, right? Plenty of creators also go through multiple marriages and have problems staying faithful and still continue making great art. We’re all human, it’s a stressful job, and this shit just happens, right? Sure, it’s gross and a shitty thing to do, but ain’t no business of ours, right?

In late 2020, actor Ray Fisher, who played the role of Cyborg in Justice League, openly accused Joss Whedon of fostering a hostile work environment, claiming that the director’s behavior was abusive and unprofessional, and that Whedon in turn was protected by DC executives.

DC and Warner Bros. came down against Fisher, claiming they had done an internal investigation that turned up no evidence of wrongdoing (yeah, sure they did), and soon Fisher was out as Cyborg, apparently for rocking the boat.

But then Charisma Carpenter, noted for her important role as Cordelia Chase in both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, then spoke up, claiming to be inspired by Fisher in doing so. She described Whedon did indeed foster a hostile work environment on his projects, that his often acted in a toxic manner, from asking incredibly invasive and inappropriate questions regarding her pregnancy to insulting her on set. She said that she made excuses for him for years, but after undergoing a lot of therapy and reading what Ray Fisher had to say, she felt compelled to speak out.

And this just open the floodgates. Other actors and actresses also came forward, some with stories of their own, others to offer support. Even Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar, confirmed Carpenter’s stories and said that she no longer wanted to be associated with Whedon. Michelle Trachtenberg, who played the character of Dawn, stated that she also experienced toxic treatment from Whedon despite her being a minor at the time, and says that the set had a rule that Whedon wasn’t allowed to be alone with her again, which really raises some sickening questions of what happened the first time. Even male stars have spoken out, from words of support and apologies for not speaking up earlier from Anthony Stewart Head and David Boreanaz, to an earlier interview with James Marsters, in which he described being terrified of Whedon, mainly due to an instance when Whedon was frustrated with the popularity of Marsters’s character of Spike messing with his plans and physically and verbally taking it out on the actor. There have been many corroborating stories of Whedon being casually cruel on set, on seemingly taking delight in making his fellow show writers cry, and even the man himself admitting to enjoying fostering a hostile work environment during his director commentary of the Avengers. We’ve joked about Whedon’s supposed sadism for years, but that was in regards to how he treated the characters in his stories, not the people helping him make them!

So yeah. That’s the problem with Joss Whedon.

So, do I think that Joss Whedon is somehow some kind of sociopath who lied about his feminist principles and deliberately put on a progressive façade specifically to get into a position of power so he could torment people? No, of course not. I think he was sincere about his beliefs, and I do think he didn’t realize the wrongness of his behavior. But that’s kind of the problem. See, it’s one thing to have kind of a trollishness to your nature, a sort of sadistic side. No one can help that. But when someone with that quality gets put into a position of power in which they are protected by both the higher-ups and their legions of fans, they are allowed to mistreat and continue to mistreat people. And by never suffering any consequences, that sort of toxic behavior becomes internalized, becomes a habit, becomes their moda operandi. And when you’re constantly getting praised as a creative genius and a wonderful feminist voice, any self-criticism just gets wiped away, and you think yourself above reproach, leading to what Joss Whedon became and went on being.

And you know what scares me the most about this particular issue? It’s not that I am a fan of his stories. It’s that I can so easily see myself turning out the same way.

Look, I’ll be upfront about it: I’m kind of a sadist myself. You’ve seen it in my stories, you’ve seen me gloating after a particularly dark plot twist makes my readers freak out. That sort of stuff is fun to me. There’s a reason why I have a much easier time in the dark and violent scenes, because I’m channeling something ugly within me. We all have a dark side, and this is mine.

But UNLIKE Whedon, that doesn’t carry over to how I treat people in real life (unless Monopoly or Mario Party are involved, then it’s fair game). Maybe it’s because I wasn’t given the sort of power and praise he did so early, and I was always taught to be considerate of other people’s feelings, but if I ever find out that I hurt another person or went too fair, I feel TERRIBLE, and it just throws me off all day until I apologize. Even if I don’t notice right away that what I said or did wasn’t cool (autistic, remember?), when it’s pointed out to me and I have some time to think on it, yeah, the guilt is on and I make a point to apologize to whoever I’ve hurt. I’ve even made a point to apologize to members of my family for inconsiderate stuff I said years ago as a little punk kid because it wouldn’t stop bugging me.

So maybe Whedon got too big, too fast. Maybe putting people on these sorts of pedestals, especially progressive ones, is ultimately a bad thing.

So where does this leave us? How are we to treat JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, one who developed a lot of transphobia due to abuse suffered while the other became a toxic individual due to unchecked control and a lack of consequences? Can we still enjoy their stories despite them now being colored by their creators’ falls from grace? Can we separate the art from the artist, or do we have to do a clean split?

Honestly, I feel that has to come down to the individual. I can’t remove the influence Rowling and Whedon have had on me as a storyteller, and I still highly respect both of their talents despite taking major issue with their problems as people. And I’m not going go throw away all of my Harry Potter or Firefly stuff. Because that’s my stuff. It has value to me, it doesn’t represent the issues with their creators, and a lot of it was gifts from people who are dear to me. Though I do think it’ll be a long time before I return to either of their work, as I just don’t have the stomach for it now.

But I will be avoiding any projects they have in the future. I don’t want to put money in their pockets that might go on to support their toxic beliefs or behavior. And as for royalties for their past work that would also support the cast and crew of the Harry Potter films or those who worked on Whedon’s shows who do not deserve to lose money because we don’t want any of that money going to the creators? Er, that question is a little above my paygrade. I don’t know. You’ll have to all decide for yourselves. As for me, I still have a lot of thinking to do.

Regardless though, if I or anyone else is still able to enjoy their work, then it’s important to not divorce what these people said or did from the art they created, even if it makes enjoying that art less fun. It’s important to be critical about what we enjoy, to acknowledge the bad aspects along with the good, and open up discussion of those elements, because that’s what mature adults are supposed to do. 

And as for JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, whose stories I love, whose talent I admire, and whose past good work I’ll happily acknowledge, I do hope they both experience some sort of realization and enter into a period of self-examination that leads to them getting help for their issues, for Rowling to get help in coming to terms with her trauma and realizing that she’s wrong about the trans community and a full apology, and for Whedon to also come to terms with his toxic behavior and how he treats people, for him to make no excuse for what he did and sincerely apologize to those he hurt and work on bettering himself, as well as them both examining some of the more problematic tropes still present in their works. Because despite everything, I do feel that they can still be a creative force of good, and it would be a shame if they let themselves self-destruct.

But if not, then if it comes down to choosing between Rowling and the protecting the trans community, if it comes down between choosing between letting Whedon continue to make shows and protecting actors and writers from his abusive behavior, then I know who I’m siding with, and it ain’t the two individuals this whole essay is about. No story, no matter how good, no matter how creative, is worth letting sacrificing vulnerable people in order for it to be made.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.

[ben-hardy-jones]

Keep it secret

Author: @ben-hardy-jones​

Pairing: Billy x fem!reader

Warnings: slightly smutty, mild gore (description of blood) 

Song: War Of Hearts by Ruelle 

Word count: 4.000ish

Summary: Reader, aka Eight, always felt a certain way about Four and it was mutual. After Turgistan, the tension escalated quickly. But will they be able to keep their hands to themselves and their relationship a secret? It was already enough that Two and Three were together and you weren’t sure how One would react to another couple. 

♡ Feedback is always appreciated! ♡

A/N: Dedicated to @valentina15. I loved writing this so much. Thank you for your request because I wouldn’t be able to come up with something like that at all. I hope you like it! 

→ Back to my masterlist ←

Meeting One was one of the most terrifying yet freeing moments you've ever experienced. When he proposed to make you free of your previous life, it was hard to decline. Two months later, you found yourself in Turgistan on a luxury yacht of Turgistan's dictator that was about to sink.  When you successfully got rid of Rovach Alimov and his democracy-loving brother Murat became the new president, that's when you found yourself in bed with no other than Billy, better known as Four.

It all started during the planning of the mission. Ever since you met him, there was no denying your attraction towards each other but as you were told by One, the leader, any kind of intimacy was strictly forbidden between any of you. There were occasional touches, Four brushing his fingers against your hip whenever he would walk past you or you gently nudging his hand with yours. However, you kept it at that. Nor you nor Four tried to go any further.

That was until Two and Three's secret about fucking each other since Vegas was exposed. After that, you decided to throw all barriers to the side. So after your return from Turgistan, you visited Billy's trailer. It was supposed to be just an innocent confession of your attraction towards him. You were sure he felt the same way. Still, you didn't plan on finding yourself in his bed that night. His arms gripping your hips as he thrust inside you, your moans so loud he was forced to cover your mouth with his palm.

Waking up in his arms, surrounded by his scent and warmth, was something you got easily used to. However, you agreed to keep it a secret. Mostly because One was barely okay with Two and Three being together and you weren't sure how he would react to another couple in the team.

Keeping it strictly confidential wasn't the easiest task. You tried your best not to stare at Billy any time he was near. It was hard for you. The light green color of his eyes reminded you of leaves hit by sunlight in summer, the plumpness of his pinkish lips and those cute little freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose that you didn't know about until his face was less than two inches away from yours made it a great effort not to look at. He looked like a masterpiece that belonged to the museum. And he was all yours.

Billy wasn't making it easy either. Whenever you were close enough, he wouldn't waste a second and he'd touch you everywhere he could reach. The very next day after your first time, he kept on touching you anywhere he as able to. That escalated quickly after just a week.

You two were like some kind of horny teenagers. Any time you two were alone, soon enough you were naked, bodies grinding against each other as he made you moan his name repeatedly. It didn't matter where. You remembered that one time when you went to a near-abandoned skateboard park to see him. Billy would always go there to clear his head, practice his skateboarding skills and keep himself in shape.

This time, with you sitting on the edge of one of the ramps, he didn't care about his skateboard. Just few minutes after you came to watch him out of boredom, his lips were already on yours, his hands squeezing your naked thighs only hidden underneath a simple beige skirt.

"Billy," you moaned his name between the kisses as his fingers worked on you with your underwear nonchalantly thrown on his black skateboard. Rolling your shirt up to expose the fabric of your bra, he planted wet kisses on the newly visible cleavage. His kisses were aiming lower and lower until he reached the place you craved his attention the most.

He let you be as loud as you pleased. You were alone and completely careless of the fact that if one of the ghosts decided to come near the skateboard park, his head between your legs with your fingers tightly gripping his hair, his hand palming your breast, your back arching in pleasure, and his name leaving your lips would be the first thing they'd see or hear.

Next week, you were on a plane to the Vatican. A group of people were about to assassinate the current pope and One was ready to get rid of the threat before it was too late. Sitting next to Billy, his hand was resting on your upper thigh, maybe too high, but nobody seemed to notice it. No matter how many times you told him to keep his hands to himself around the others, he became more and more frequent with his touching.  

Feeling the tension growing between you two, you looked around. Two and Three were sitting in front of you with their backs towards you, Seven was in the pilot's cabin with One and Five seemed to be way too interested in one of her medical books to notice what you were about to do.

Billy was looking out of the window and didn't notice you either. Biting your lip to hide the grin, you placed your hand straight on his bulge. He jumped out in surprise.

"Y/N," he breathed out. His brows were raised as he looked at you, silently saying Are you serious? with his eyes.

"Two can play this game."

"No, love, she can't," he smiled. Squeezing him, you felt his cock twitch as he sighed.

"That's not what I meant."

"Someone will see us."

"Two and Three are way into each other and Five forgot about the rest of the world the moment she started reading that crap," you motioned towards her with your head, your eyes never leaving Billy's wide ones.

Gently, you started to massage him. He swallowed, letting you. Unfortunately, too soon One's voice interrupted you, informing all of you that you will be landing soon.

You pulled away but not before planting a swift kiss on the corner of his lips. Five looked at you as you passed her, a look in her eyes that made you question if she heard or saw something. Not saying anything, you made your way towards one of the cars parked nearby, Billy right behind you with One and Seven occupying the vehicle as well.

The ride seemed to be going on forever as you sat by the left window, watching the beautiful architecture Rome was offering. You could feel Billy's eyes you, occasionally stealing a look at you.

It was close to one in the morning when you finally arrived at the cheapest, dirtiest two-floor motel anyone could ever imagine. Parking in front of the building, everyone left the car and One went straight to the reception.

Billy's shoulder brushed yours, his hand quickly landing on your bottom as he stopped next to you, watching incoming One.

"Okay, listen, guys," he announced, bringing everyone's attention to him, "there are four rooms with only double beds available for us. I'll be in 37, Two and Eight in 42, Three and Four in 49 and Five with Seven in 56. All rooms are on the ground floor. Everyone will be right here," One pointed at the ground to make a point, "at seven am sharp."

"I want to be solo," Five folded her arms in front of her chest, staring deadly at One.

"You're sharing with Seven," One tried to dismiss Five but her stare made him shiver. After a silent minute of their staredown, One gave up.

"Whatever, Five's in 56 alone and I'll share with Seven in 37 then," he rolled his eyes, throwing her the keys. Five walked off with a proud smile.

"I don't wanna share a room with Four, papi, nor one bed," Three started, making One throw his head back dramatically with an exaggerated sigh.

"Don't start now, Three. I'm not giving you a room with Two. It's enough that you're fucking  loud enough in California, I'm not letting you disturb my sleep tonight," he came closer to Three with an angry expression, "you are sharing a room with Four while Two sleeps in one bed with Eight."

"You let Five have her way," Three remarked, the rest of you just standing there watching curiously.

"I have a feeling someone's gonna get killed soon," you whispered towards Billy whose hand was still on your bottom while both of you faced the others. He only nodded.

"No. End of discussion," One raised his voice slightly, still trying not to bring any attention to the group. With that, he threw one pair of keys to you and the other to Billy and motioned Seven to follow him to their shared room.

"Fucking feminist," Three shook his head.

"C'mon man, I guarantee you I'm not that bad of a bedmate," Billy joked, wiggling his browns as he and Three made their way towards their room, leaving you and Two alone.

"Sometimes I really want to shoot someone," Two rolled her eyes and picked up her bags.

"One or Three?"

"All of them."

+++++++++++++++

"Camille, did I leave my shorts on the bed?" putting your hair in a ponytail, you left the bathroom only in a slightly oversized shirt and underwear, searching for the missing shorts.

"Don't see them," the blonde replied, reading a magazine while laying on her stomach on the bed.

"How could you when you don't look," you mumbled.

Looking around, you couldn't find them anywhere. Someone knocked on the door, making you and Two jump up, guns that were previously lying around now ready to fire.

She opened the door only to be greeted by a sleek looking Three in a black button-up and a glass of champagne in his hand, a flirtatious smile on his bearded face.

"We're having a date?" you asked, taking the champagne from his hand.

"Oh, champagne delamotte," you read in a fake French accent, Two rolling her eyes at you, "sounds fancy. I like it."

"That," Three ripped the bottle from you, "is not for you, ocho," his eyes sliding down your body, realizing how underdressed you were, "but you can stay if you want."

"What do you mean by 'if you want'?" you put your hands on your hips, "I'm sleeping here tonight."

"No, you're not," Two stood between you two, her back towards Three.

An exaggerated gasp left your lips. Two took the bottle from Three, gripping your shoulder and leading you towards the door.

"Wait, I still don't have my shorts," you protested but it was to no avail. Two smiled gently at you in the doors before closing them and locking them.

"Traitor," you whispered. Instantly, you pushed the shirt more down in an attempt to cover yourself from any possible passersby.

"Guys, seriously," you banged on the doors, hearing their voices, "where am I supposed to go?"

"You always find yourself a solution, Y/N. Good luck," Three said, his voice muffled by the doors.

Throwing your arms in the air, you turned around. It was deep in the night. Nobody seemed to be near. Cars of all brands and colors were parked in front of the motel, suggesting the place was nearly or fully booked. It didn't take you long to come up with a plan. Flipping a bird at the doors, you went to the room 7 doors away from you.

Knocking at the red doors, you held your shirt down as you waited for him to open. Billy was still very much awake, dressed in a simple white shirt and black Adidas pants. His wet hair indicated he took a shower recently, the smell of cheap motel soap enveloping you as he looked you up and down and raised his eyebrows, seeing you in only a shirt.

"I was forced out of my room," you stated, "and have nowhere to sleep."

"Three mentioned something about screwing One's dumb rules," Billy wondered out loud, stepping to the side, "come on in, love."

You entered the room that looked exactly like yours, just slightly less messy. The doors clicked, Billy locking them and putting a gun he had hidden behind his elasticated waist on the small table next to him.

"Aren't you cold in that?" he furrowed his brows, eyes fixed on your legs, a look of worry mixed with awe on his freshly shaven face.

"If Three let me put on my shorts, I wouldn't be cold."

Billy walked pass you, grasping a pair of plain black pants he had ready for tomorrow.

"Here," he crouched down in front of you, "these should keep you warm."

Letting him dress you, you stepped into one leg at the time. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as he put the pants on you and tied them. The close proximity of his warm body mere inch from you made your own body tingle. His hands stayed on your hips. His eyes bored into yours, your lips parting. Billy's eyes slid down to them as he licked his own lips. His right hand moved upwards to cup your face and you automatically leaned into him.

It felt like hours passed as you just stared at each other in silence, heart beating so fast you thought it'll jump out of your chest.

"Can you just kiss me already?" you breathed out.

Billy's lips curled up in a smug smile. Next second, his lips were on yours as his tongue immediately slid inside your mouth. Putting your hands on his brawny chest, you could feel his muscles contracting underneath your touch. Pushing forward, he was soon sitting on the double bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as you sat on him comfortably. You circled your hips, pushing yourself onto his hardening groin and at the same time, you started to nibble on the skin under his jawline, careful not to leave a mark. Billy groaned.

His hands frantically fumbled with the knot on your pants he created just moments ago.

"Why giving me pants when you're gonna be taking them off within a few minutes?" you smiled, your lips still touching his flesh. A growl erupted from his throat alongside your name.

After a small number of failed attempts, Billy finally managed to get the knot loose. His hands grabbed your hips and he easily threw you further onto the bed and on your back. Your pants were off of you in seconds, Billy's lips on yours instantly afterwards. His hips pushed your legs more apart as he settled between them, thrusting against you.

"Fuck, Billy," you could feel yourself getting more and more ready for him and he didn't even touch you properly yet. Being the sadistic bastard he was, he teased you to the fullest before submitting to the awaiting pleasure.

+++++++++++++++

Turning around the corner, you shot the first man that appeared in front of you, the other falling down with a headshot by Seven, and took the outside stairs. You cursed underneath your breath at the horrendous choice of clothing as you had to take the stairs in a little black dress with a fully sheer side. It was extremely questionable why One put Three in charge of today's clothing for the gala as Three was the worst outfit picker, let alone nightgowns for women.

"Eight for Four," you whispered into the earpiece firmly put inside your right ear, masked with your hair pinned to the side.

"Yeah?" Billy responded, his voice soothing, making you slightly less nervous. It was already a stupid idea of One's to send you to the bad guy's room alone, only with Four as a backup. You hated it but apparently, only women were allowed to the upper floor because of reasons. Five wasn't a fighter which made her unavailable immediately while Two and Three were supposed to take care of the guards outside the mansion. So it was only you left as a choice.

"I'm almost there, where are you?"

"Right 'bove you."

A shriek left your lips as he landed next to you. He had to cover your mouth quickly, putting a finger on his lips before showing you a cheeky smile.

"What was that?" One's angry voice echoed in your earpiece, "Eight, I swear if you fucking sabotage this mission."

"Everything's fine, boss," Four answered without delay. He wiggled his eyebrow playfully. Gripping his machine pistol, he turned to the doors and gently nudged you behind him. You both got ready.

"I see four people including out target inside," Seven's voice was heard in your earpieces, "but the glass is bulletproof so it's all on you two, guys. Can't help you there."

You nodded, knowing Seven was watching through his scope. Billy looked at you reassuringly, his hand swiftly squeezing yours. Taking a deep breath it, you watched Billy kick the doors open.

The bodyguards began shouting in Italian instantly but you didn't understand nor cared. Instantaneously, you fired your first two shots, hitting the nearest dark-skinned bald man in the arm before firing again and shooting him in the neck. His body fell to the ground with a thud, revealing your target hiding behind his robust body.

It all felt like you were in slow motion. Turning your head to the side, you saw another beefy man on the ground with his face completely destroyed by Billy's bullets.

Feeling the air thicken, you saw a movement. The target lunged at you, his arms extended towards your gun. The training kicked in, your body going into instant combat mode.  Stepping to the side, you kicked his knee. He grunted and turned to you with an angry snarl. Without a second thought, you hit him in the face with the back of your gun before kicking him right in his groin with all the power you could gather.

The target stumbled backwards, stumbling over the dead body of his bodyguard. He fell backwards, hitting the back of his head against a table in the process. His unconscious body landed on the ground.

"No, no, no, no," you whispered, feeling your heart racing as you came to his body and checked for the pulse, "don't be dead. If you're dead, I'm dead dead too."  

A sigh left your lips covered in bright red lipstick as you felt his pulse beating strongly. He was still alive.

A grunt echoed through the room. Billy was still fighting with the last bodyguard, his pistol thrown on the other side of the room. The man was huge, at least 6'5 tall and weirdly enough, he resembled a bigger version of Jason Momoa.

Billy was holding up surprisingly well. Ever since he got his ass kicked in both Hong Kong and Turgistan, he trained daily to be better. And it paid off. Using his parkour skills, he swiftly moved between his punches. It looked like he was actually dancing.

His face, on the other hand, was evidently not doing that well. His lip was busted, blood slowly oozing from the crack as well as from a small laceration under his left eye, right on his prominent cheekbone that you were so jealous of.

Even in the state of being quite badly beaten, you found Billy extremely attractive. His moves stayed fluent, deliberated.  

You could see him avoiding using his left hand, indicating he was hurt more than you could see at the moment. Raising your gun, you aimed at the man's head, praying to all the gods he would not move fast enough.

The bullet left the muzzle with a bang, ending in the guy's left temple. His blood splattered across Billy's cheek and neck as well as the near wall, painting the white walls crimson red.

He stood still for a second, looking at the body before turning his wide eyes towards you. Billy's chest was rapidly going up and down, his breathing loud.

"You could've killed me," he walked over to you, lips parted, and looked at the target's unconscious body over your head as his chest came  in contact with yours. Billy's hands went to your elbows, steadying your subtle shaking.

"He could've too," you whispered, placing your gun on the table next to you before grabbing his hand and looking at the angry looking bruises forming around his wrist.

"I think it's broken. Five will know for sure."

Looking up, your eyes followed every inch of his face. His eyes never left yours. He stood close to you. Warm tingle settled in your tummy as you wiped away the blood from his chin, careful not to touch his wounded lip. You bit your own lip and felt your cheeks turning pink.

"Sorry, I think I'm turned on," you muttered, trying to put a distance between you and Billy but he caught you by your wrist, holding you still.

"You're turned on by me having my ass handed to me?"

"Maybe?"

In that very moment, when you looked up to him, the blush on your cheeks and your wide eyes, he felt his heart stop. Forgetting about the world, he smashed his lips against yours, groaning slightly at the burning pain in his wounded lip.

"You're hurt," you tried pulling away but it was unsuccessful. Billy held you close, completely ignoring the protests his body was giving him as he overlooked his broken wrist and beaten face.

"Don't care."

Still trying to pull away, his lips followed yours as you bent slightly backwards. That was when you realized there was no point in protesting. This man was not going to give up.

Relaxing your body, letting it melt into his, Billy took the lead and put you on the table right next to your gun. Opening your legs as much as your dress allowed you, he was still not able to step between them. A growl left his mouth as he took the hem of your dress, pulling it upwards until it was around your hips, your underwear completely exposed to anyone as he finally stepped between your legs. His hands stayed on your thighs.

You could feel the blood on his lips as he moved his mouth down, kissing your jawline before moving towards your ear. You were completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you, tilting your head back. So lost you didn't hear One the first time.

"I said," his voice was louder now, "what the fuck is going on?"

Eyes wide, you pushed Billy away and jumped off the table, speedily pulling your dress down. One was standing in the doors with Two and Three on each side. Five and Seven were nowhere to be seen. Three was strongly trying not to laugh as Two had the same expression she always had but you knew she was amused as well.

On the other hand, One was furious. His face reddened as he walked towards the target who was slowly and quietly trying to crawl away which you also didn't notice.

"Look, boss," Billy took a step towards One but was stopped when he raised his hand, aiming his gun at Billy.

"Don't," he grabbed the target, pulling him on his feet and putting his gun back at the holster, "you have a lot of explaining to do but right now, we have more important things to take care of."

There was no doubt your face was red as a tomato as One left the room with your target, Three laughing as he followed him.

Two looked at Billy and then at you.

"You have a little blood and lipstick on your face," she motioned to her jawline, showing you where you were dirty before turning away and following the rest of the group.

"This is gonna be a long night," Billy announced, biting his cheek.

"Tell me about it," you breathed out and began following the group with Billy by your side, slightly terrified about what was to come.

[torispn15]

Warning long post ahead:

I have heard a lot from the news and from articles today. It can drive you crazy. So, I´m channeling my energy into explaining a couple of things about our (the US) political and economic system. It´s not perfect, as I put more emotion into this post than just straight logic. I have taken a politics 101 course and did a lot of studying and I am using basic common sense and empathy. At first I am talking about the Capitol incident and then it expands into more detail. If you don´t want to read, that´s cool. (I am not really gonna branch out into other countries on this topic. The main focus is the US) Anyways, here it is:

"A political philosophy and movement that is sceptical of authority and rejects all involuntary, coercive forms of hierarchy. Anarchism calls for the abolition of the state, which it holds to be undesirable, unnecessary, and harmful."

Does this sound like the behavior of the people that stormed the Capitol? No. It sounds like the opposite of what they want. I´ve seen a lot of news networks such as NBC, call the fascists, anarchists. That, above, is the description of anarchism.

Anarchists reject any hierarchy. They, the fascists, want government and they want Trump. So, calling them anarchists is very very not accurate.

"A form of far-right, authoritarian ultranationalism characterized by dictatorial power, forcible suppression of opposition and strong regimentation of society and of the economy. They believe that liberal democracy is obsolete and regard the complete mobilization of society under a totalitarian one-party state as necessary to prepare a nation for armed conflict and to respond effectively to economic difficulties."

Does this sound more like the behavior of the people that stormed the Capitol? Yes. It does. That is the description of fascism.

"A fascist state is led by a strong leader such as a dictator and a martial law government composed of the members of the governing fascist party to forge national unity and maintain a stable and orderly society."

Remind you of anything??

Now, read this:

"Advocates the abolition of the state, capitalism, wage labour, social hierarchies and private property (while retaining respect for personal property, along with collectively-owned items, goods and services) in favor of common ownership of the means of production and direct democracy as well as a horizontal network of workers' councils with production and consumption based on the guiding principle "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs"."

This sounds way better than the first two, right? This is the description of anarcho-communism. Which is what I, personally, align with most.

What about this:

"An economic system based on the private ownership of the means of production and their operation for profit. Central characteristics include capital accumulation, competitive markets, a price system, private property and the recognition of property rights, voluntary exchange and wage labor. In this market economy, decision-making and investments are determined by every owner of wealth, property or production ability in capital and financial markets whereas prices and the distribution of goods and services are mainly determined by competition in goods and services markets."

This is the description of capitalism, which is what we have now. But, what you have to understand is that capitalism usually leads to fascism. Late-stage capitalism is fascism. One core idea of fascism is capitalism. Which is one of many reasons why it´s terrible. Also, you live here. You know how bad capitalism is. It´s why you can´t afford to buy medicine or go to the doctors. It´s why people die of starvation. It´s not because people don´t work hard enough. There are people who work three jobs who are still low-income individuals and families. It´s because of capitalism. It doesn´t give you any freedom. It is the opposite of freedom. In the "land of the free" we have a political and economic system that enslaves us. Think about that. Think about how much freedom you actually have.

When all of this is put into frame, what are your thoughts? What sounds like a place you want to live in?

The way we are now, the reason why most of the garbage in this country happens, you can connect that to capitalism. You can trace what happened at the Capitol today to fascism and capitalism (Which are basically the same thing).

A lot of Americans work minimum wage jobs. Minimum wage is $7.25 an hour, on average in the US. Assuming you work 40 hours a week, that equals 2,080 hours in a year. Your hourly wage of 7 dollars would end up being about $14,560 per year in salary. Even if you got $15 an hour, working 37.5 hours a week, you would still only make $29,250 a year. $15 an hour isn't enough to secure affordable housing in most US states. Nationally, someone would need to make $17.90 an hour to rent a one-bedroom apartment or $22.10 an hour to cover a two-bedroom home. In order to live comfortably, you´d have to get extra hours or a better job. Extra hours, is just slaving more of your life away to the point where it won´t matter how much money you earn. And it is very hard to get a job. Even if you go to college, you aren´t owed or guaranteed a job. You slave you life away. And none of this takes into consideration family members. None of this takes into consideration any children or people living in the household. You have to struggle all the time under capitalism.

You are in the top 1.8% of americans if you make more than 400k a year. So, no, not everyone or anyone can be rich or live nicely here. America loves to brand itself as a free country and the land of opportunity but, it has shown that is anything but. 30 million people in America, do not have health insurance. Do you know how much medical care costs without insurance? No one should struggle for basic medical care. Every human being deserves the basic necessities to stay alive. Every single one of us shouldn´t have to pay for food or water. We shouldn´t struggle to afford putting food on the table working two jobs while the millionaires and billionaires who sit on a yacht all day, who don´t earn a single cent, never have to worry about that. You wanna know how they make that money, you wanna know who gives them that money? You do. Your hard work and nights away from your family, earns them that money. That is your money. The system is set up for people like that to succeed and keep succeeding. The rich keep getting richer while you stay the same or even lose money. Does that sound fair or just to you? Life isn´t fair, no, but this isn´t life. This is a man-made system that we can fix. We built this and we can tear it down.

So stop being a bootlicker and sucking off capitalism just because there´s a small chance that, maybe, you will get rich. If you´re black in America, you have a 15.1% lower chance of becoming a millionaire than a white person in America. If you are white or asian with a college education, you have around a 20% chance of being a millionaire. But, if you can´t afford college, and you only have a high school diploma, your chances drop to a 2% chance. And most people who are rich in this country didn´t start out with a start-up company and worked hard. No. No. The majority of millionaires and billionaires did either one of these things or all of them:

⬤ Got lucky. By means of gambling, lottery, ⋆cough⋆ making a sex tape and it getting traction ⋆cough⋆...... things like that.

⬤ Scamming someone. By means of ponzi scheme, pyramid scheme, advance-fee scam, credit fraud, identity theft... things of that nature.

⬤ Other illegal shit. By means of embezzlement, hacking, robbing, selling counterfit goods (which can also fall into the scamming someone section), etc... you get the point.

And that doesn´t include being born into money and not paying any taxes as well. It usually doesn´t have shit to do with working hard. If working hard made you a millionaire, a hell of a lot more people would be rich af.

There´s also a lot more factors and circumstances to take into account. Even if I had time to explain, I probably couldn´t because, well, frankly, it´s impossible to go into every factor or circumstance especially since, I couldn´t possibly know every single one. This is a very basic and general post and I tried my best to explain some stuff. (some of the figures and percentages might be off by a percent ot two but, that´s easily searchable)

I do encourage researching, actual research. Because I, nor, anyone on this app are the authority for any topic. Never take anyone´s word for anything, especially not on this app of of all places. Please study and research. When you research, it is very important to check out the websites and sources for too much bias and make sure to fact check, such as comparing it to other websites and sources. Or maybe you could read different books about economics or politics and things of that nature. But, even for books, always fact check and check for too much bias. You can easily fall into traps if you don´t. I just started listening to an audio book titled: Anarchism and Other Essays by Emma Goldman. I am trying to learn more about anarchism and other political philosophies as well. I am most certaintly not a "political person" but, I do love to learn and I do love human beings and believe that human beings deserve basic rights which makes me interested in learning about different ways to improve our way of life.

So... that´s it.... I hope y´all have a goodnight/evening/morning! 💛

[lilypixels]

All of them 😄

ok wow you really went for it huh? ahdjkhsd I’ll answer all of them minus the three I just did I’ll put them under the read more thingy since this will be long :’D

zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please!

I woke up two hours ago and only took a shower thus far so I’m feeling good lol

cadmium yellow; when you think of the word “happy” what’s the first thing that comes to mind?

...idolish7 ajhjkfh i’m too obsessed with it h e l p

yellow ochre; name an artist/band whom you just discovered & can’t get enough of!

would it be bad if I said Idolish7/all the related groups (Trigger, Mezzo, Zool)?? cause technically a recentish discovery and I defiantly can’t get enough :’D my real answer is Reol

naples yellow; where do you feel most at home?

my room lol

raw sienna; with whom do you feel most at home?

my mom i guess??

golden ochre; describe the relationship you have with your closest friend.

one that some might not deem normal but works well for us lol (I mean, we’ve been friends for about 10 years now) we have a good understanding of each other and know we don’t have to talk/hang out all the time in order to know we still matter to each other, we both have our own lives and just knowing the other is there no matter what is enough. we’re the type to not talk for weeks and then send random memes and act like we’d been talking the whole time😂 it works really well for me too cause i’m not good at “socializing” on a constant basis and tend to just...not text people for ages on end, but I’ll still care for them and think about them just many see it as me cutting them out rip

golden deep; what’s your favorite season?

tbh the time between spring and summer but fall has been earning some points recently

cadmium orange; what do you like to do on your days off?

I often bake and game

orange lake; do you have anyone you can turn to when you’re sad?

I guess?? but i don’t like bothering people with my emotions often times so I just cuddle my cat haha

titans; do you prefer slow mornings or relaxing evenings?

hmm...the second i think

shakhnazaryan red; are you currently binge-watching anything?

i was binge-watching Tsukiuta but I’ve slowed down with s2 cause now I’m distracted with other things like genshin impact

red ochre; are you more right-brained (creative) or left-brained (analytical)?

i don’t even know/remember anymore, maybe left now???

burnt sienna; is there a painting that brings you peace when you look at it?

Van Gogh’s Starry Night cause I like stars and nightviews 

vermilion; what’s your favorite accent?

oooo interesting one, but I like all accents, I find them cute :3

cadmium red; do you have a “type” when it comes to a significant other?

I have a type with fictional characters and idol biases does that count? no?

scarlet; describe your current crush/es.

i have none 😗✌

ruby; what does your ideal first date look like?

bold of you to assume i would go on a date idk a movie so i don’t have to talk lol

carmine; what does your ideal second date look like?

bold of you to assume I would- ahfkj i really don’t know, go to the library and have tea???

madder lake red; would you ever kiss someone (or accept a kiss) on a first date?

that’s a big NO from me, someone be catching hands if they tried

rose; what’s something really positive going on in your life right now?

is it bad i thought of work? i have a fun time watching baby 😊

quinacridone rose; what’s something you’re really looking forward to?

baking/decorating Christmas cookies that I’m gonna share with family and friends!

violet rose; what does your dream house look like?

like a victorian house, gothic victorian is better, probably haunted, with an attic room hehe

violet; is there any place in particular you’d like to settle down?

anywhere but here lol

blue lake; what would you like to do/accomplish before you settle down?

finish schooling and get job :b

cobalt blue spectral; what is the most beautiful place you have ever been to?

uhhhhhh Clearwater Beach?

ultramarine; when was the last time you were in a good mood? do you know/remember what sparked it?

yesterday I guess cause i had good time shopping with my dad :3

blue; what’s the most recent dream you remember?

my dream last night rip part of it was genshin related cause I played like 3 hours before sleeping and the rest was my mind trying to figure out where the story of an otome I’m playing is gonna go i’m at end of this dudes route and he just erased mc’s memories of him so like enggg

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each?

i wanna foster, adopt at least one kid and have one of my own, all the pets, maybe there’s some dude there idk kids and animals all i need aha

blue cobalt; do you like your name? would you give yourself a different name if you could?

i don’t like my name but at same time it’s kinda who i am and idk what else i would name myself i do have a Chinese name though (we picked them in class and what we went by) which is MingYi 明怡!

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent?

coconut, vanilla, MINT

azure blue; what’s your favorite type of tea, if any?

peppermint tea, green tea, I did like Earl Grey but I can’t have black tea anymore :(

turquoise blue; if you could start a garden, what would you plant?

all the herbs and vegetables! also some of my favorite flowers like foxglove that hopefully don’t make my allergies worse

cerulean blue; if you were guaranteed to have a viewership, would you start a youtube vlog?

probably not

glauconite; describe your body without using any negative adjectives.

5′ 5″, tiny, long legs that hold all the muscles and weight in my body lol my torso is like a rectangle, i am very flat chested and do not mind that 

yellow green; picture yourself walking in a field. what do you see & hear in this scenario?

i can not picture cause i just imagine itchy grass and lots of sneezing😔

green light; are you in a comfortable place in life? if not, what do you think might make it better?

comfortable enough i guess, i try not to nitpick too much on what’s “lacking”

green; name three countries you want to visit; do you have any actual plans in place to visit any of them?

all the countries! I almost went to China for study abroad but then stuff happened TT

emerald green; do you speak any languages besides english? are there any additional languages you want to learn?

I can technically speak basic Chinese and French, but I’ve also already forgotten too much rip I really like learning languages and hope to get back into it soon!

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

legit any Rick Riordan book, my fav author

olive green; are you currently reading anything? how do you like it so far?

I’m in like the middle of Trials of Apollo book 2 and it is great

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh?

idk Megamind??

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

technically already did it, was shower

umber; have you drank enough water today?

no

voronezhskaya black; what or who is your go-to outlet for when you need to vent?

rpg/fighting games where I can smash monsters to pieces

sepia; name five things that always make you happy.

music, babies, Alice, baking, others being happy~

indigo; what’s the best/sweetest compliment you have ever received?

idk i shy away from compliments most of time :’)

payne’s gray; describe your aesthetic?

“welcome to your doom uwu” ajshdjk idk it’s always changing

black; post a selfie because you are so beautiful!

no thanks💖 maybe later but its gonna be gone fast

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

becky albertalli’s ‘simon vs. the homo sapiens agenda’: a review, amongst other things

I walked into Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda fully prepared to hate it. I’d read it a grand total of one (01) time before, way back in December 2019, with very high expectations that were dashed to smithereens halfway through. On my first reading, I found it terribly cliché, vapid and utterly undeserving of the multitude of four- and five-star ratings on Goodreads.

I’m still iffy about those ratings (it’s a solid two-point-five, three at best for me), but I didn’t hate it as much the second time around. Maybe it was because my expectations were so low that the only way it could go from there was up. You could say that I almost… enjoyed it.

That didn’t stop me from scribbling a page of complaints, though.

I’ve seen many reviews hailing the book as a win for the LGBTQ+ community, for BIPOC, for YA fiction. And Albertalli’s certainly done a better job of writing the character of a homosexual male than certain others. Simon’s whole coming-out crisis is definitely relatable, and it’s definitely a relief to have a character who’s accepted their sexuality instead of one who spends roughly 200 pages whining, “bUt HoW cAn I LiKe BoY wHeN I aM bOy??”

And yet it can be so tone-deaf in other parts.

The most glaring example is at the start of the book (I doubt this constitutes as a spoiler), where Simon says (lmao), about lesbian and bisexual girls: “I think it’s different for girls. Maybe it’s easier. If there’s one thing the Tumblr has taught me, it’s that a lot of guys consider it hot when a girl is a lesbian.”

Yes, the really says ‘the Tumblr’. And it’s not the last time, either.

I find it hard to believe that Simon, a gen-Z if my calculations serve me correct, has a Tumblr account and doesn’t know about Phan, Drarry, Destiel (RIP), Larry Stylinson (yikes) and the other staple gay OTPs of gen-Z Tumblr culture. If there’s one thing the Tumblr has taught me, it’s that there are way too many gay male ships with a brunette and a blond, with predominantly female fans.

Granted, Simon’s talking about their school’s gossip blog in particular, but that can’t be the only blog he follows.

Because fetishization is so easy, am I right, ladies?

You might bring up the ‘death of the author’ paradigm; Simon’s views ≠ Becky Albertalli’s; Simon is a teenage boy and teenage boys are generally idiots- and yet it feels like this is something the author genuinely believes, because she’s also included Simon being A-okay and even flattered by his friend Leah’s gay fanart and fanfic obsession. Yeah… no. Fetishization of queer people is creepy and dehumanizing and I’ve yet to meet a single queer person who’s on board with the idea of cishets doing so.

Also, the fact that he warmed up to Martin even while he was being blackmailed is something no actual closeted queer would do, ever. I’m pretty sure I’m speaking for loads of queer people when I say that being out to someone you don’t trust is a literal nightmare- even worse when they use that against you. And this motherfucker’s all like, “Well yeah, he’s threatening to out me to everyone if I don’t set him up with my best friend, but he’s kinda funny :) I think we could be friends.”

Simon- fuck you, you smoothbrained numbskull.

Another thing I found cringey was how many pop culture references were thrown in. Why, on god’s green earth, would you name a dog Bieber? For one, that’s a godawful name; for another- Justin Bieber? Really?

I consider myself a pretty avid fan of Harry Potter (here I will insert the obligatory ‘fuck you, JKR’), and whenever I see a reference thrown in, I feel like that one Spider-Man meme. And yet there were way. too. many. in this damn book. Seriously. We get it. Simon’s a Potterhead. That’s enough.

Also, I’m obligated to cancel anyone who likes Reese’s cups. They’re fucking vile.

Other attempts at gen-Z-ing that made me want to fling myself into the nearest black hole: every time Simon said ‘I can’t even’; a pop-punk band called ‘Emoji’ (!!! the way I cringed !!!); ‘the’ Tumblr (yeah, I’m never letting that go); Nora unironically saying ‘OMG’ in a verbal conversation; the absolute LACK of One Direction references (see, this is why I love John Green); amongst others.

Simon’s got zero personality outside of his sexuality. In case you didn’t catch it the eight thousand times it was mentioned, Simon is gay. And… that’s about it.

Leah’s annoying and yet I’m ashamed to say I can sort of see where she’s coming from (I’ve had a long and illustrious history of being left out and ignored by my friends, but this is neither the time nor place to discuss my childhood trauma, so I’ll leave it at that). Her enmity with Abby was unnecessary and uncalled for. Nick’s… a Jewish guitarist? And that’s about it? Abby’s cute and quirky and lovable and I love her. Martin’s a bag of dicks plus more. It was pretty obvious to me who Blue was; if you’ve read a YA book, ever, it’s the easiest thing to guess.

The characters were painfully one-dimensional. I can imagine them existing in that particular story, but I couldn’t tell you a single thing about them outside of it. It’s like they don’t exist outside of those pages- they couldn’t be actual people, if that makes sense (it probably doesn’t, but humor me).

The family dynamic between the Spiers was believable and pretty well-written (says me, who has zero siblings). I liked how the diversity didn’t feel contrived- just enough information to tell you that Abby and Bram were black, Nick was Jewish, Blue was half-Jewish, amongst others (funnily enough, when I first read it, I thought the exact opposite). The dialogue between characters felt pretty natural, too.

In conclusion: was Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda a perfect LGBTQ+ novel? I’ve read objectively better works on Ao3 (seriously, those of you who look down on fanfiction are missing out on some quality stuff), but it’s a pretty standard Wattpad-worthy story. It has its issues, and it’s far from the best thing I’ve ever read, and it’s not going on my favorites list anytime soon. You’re not missing out on anything if you choose to not read it, I can guarantee you that. But it’s a decently fun read, and perfect if you want something to while away an afternoon- it’s hardly going to take up too many hours to get through.

And would you look at that- I finally managed to write a review without a single spoiler (admittedly, there’s nothing to spoil outside of Blue’s identity, but let me have this).

[shardweavers]

Chapter Twelve - Old, Unhappy, Far Off Things

[Half a bell prior to the death of Shoto’s door...]

Closing the book that sat before him, the Crystal Exarch glanced to the small chronometer on his desk and sighed, rubbing his temples; page after page of Allagan tomes researched, all of Beq Lugg’s notes and annotations and fae wisdom, and yet he felt no closer to an answer on how to imbue the vessels--no closer to guaranteeing the Scions a safe return to the Source before the First consumed their souls. “Another sleepless night, and so little to show for it,” he grumbled. Standing and stretching, he glared at his chair, silently rebuking it for the aches in his back; picking up his staff, he took the book he’d just finished researching and replaced it on the bookshelf, looking around the Umbilicus afterwards.

Surely, somewhere in this grand tower, the answer he sought was waiting to be found...he could feel it. He just had to persist, didn’t he…?

When his gaze fell on his desk once more, he realized the journal he'd been writing in for the last few weeks was still open; the Exarch placed his staff on his back, and gently plucked the journal up, intending to put it away. The last bit of his entry from last night caught his eye before he could:

Seeing the encouraging look on Angel's face was...nostalgic. It reminded me of when we were trying to find clues to open the Tower in the first place. He was so fascinated by my retellings of Allagan history back then, in a way only Lyna has since echoed. 

Maybe that's why I'm so certain the answer will come to me if I just keep searching…? I have so many people around me who bring about miracles.

"...Miracles," the Allagan Miqo'te trailed off, then frowned, sighing again. "Mayhap... that was the wrong word to write." 

He shook his head to clear it, then closed his journal and placed it under a larger book...now wasn’t the time for melancholy. His friends, the brave Warriors of Light and Darkness, were heading out into Norvrandt today. Once he had seen them safely off, and run his own minor errands, he could return to struggling with the vessels.

Flicking his ears, the Exarch allowed himself a small smile and took in a deep breath as he headed out of the Umbilicus. Yet no sooner had he entered the Ocular…

Something was wrong. He could feel it.

Biting his lip and frowning hard, the Exarch yanked his staff from his back as he hurried to the mirror at the center of the Ocular. He paused for a moment, then tapped his staff on the floor. The soft clang echoed through the empty room as the mirror lit up with a glow.

A view of the Crystarium appeared as its citizens bustled about, starting their days. The Mean's artisans were setting up their workshops, the Musica's vendors were preparing their shops, the guards were preparing for a shift change... nothing seemed out of place yet. 

The red-haired Miqo'te put a finger to his chin, thoughtfully. "Am I just imagining things...?" 

A sudden burst of movement flickered from the mirror, and all at once, he sensed the aetheric signature of powerful magic used somewhere in the Crystarium. The Exarch’s heartbeat kicked into overdrive; he sent out a silent magical alert. Every guard in view leapt to attention; Lyna came hurrying in to give orders. 

The Allagan Miqo’te grit his teeth, then raised his staff toward the mirror.

"What was…?" he let his question trail off, nothing else had been disturbed... He checked in on the Catenaries, but the people there seemed safe, and looked to be just getting up and ready for their days. ...Another violent pulse of magic, more powerful than any he knew--the Pendants. There was no mistake; this time he was sure. "My friends," he whispered, worriedly; he shifted the mirror’s image in a hurry. 

The moment he looked in on the Pendants, he was greeted by citizens clamoring near the Master of Suites, and guards trying to calm them down. His ears pinned back, then he shook his head and took a deep, calming breath. He needed to sort out what was happening before he ran off. 

The Exarch lifted his staff again, then looked in on each of his friends' rooms. Sumire's room was a bit disheveled; his bed was a mess, and his door was still open, but it didn't look damaged. Yuki's room was quite tidy, though her coat was still on her bed, by an unpacked bag. Ice and Angel's room bothered him the most; food was half-prepared, a knife was on the floor, a chair knocked over, and the door still wide open. When he went to try to look in on Shoto, he found aetheric interference made it difficult. He knew he'd found the source of the disturbance... but why--?

For a brief moment, the image cleared. He saw his friends on defense, and a familiar figure, all too familiar. A figure that made his ruby eyes narrow, and his blood run cold. The Crystal Exarch had his answer.

“...Emet-Selch…!”

He loudly clanged his staff on the Ocular's floor to disperse the mirror's image as he ran out to head to the Pendants...

* * * [Half a bell after the Ascian Tea Party.]

"My lord?" Lyna's voice broke through the Exarch’s thoughts as he stared at the blank mirror, pushing away the memories of earlier that day. His ears perked at the Viis’ quiet voice, and he closed his eyes as he let out a silent breath.

"Yes, Lyna?" His voice was quiet and contemplative; he still felt himself shaking inside, but tried to make sure it didn't bleed through. He had to maintain some level of authority and decorum.

"Are you certain this is wise?"

"No," he replied without thinking; his ears flicked and he sighed again, shaking his head. "But I'm not certain what other course of action I could have taken, to be truthful." Turning from the mirror, he headed down the steps in the center of the room, his captain following him.

"We could have kept him locked up," she offered.

He immediately shook his head, "No. He’s too powerful, magically, to be held that way--if he'd have wanted to, he'd have simply disappeared from his cell, or torn free from his bonds. I'm not really certain why he didn't at least try."

"Then... do you trust him to keep his word?" Lyna was confused, and it showed in her expression. The Exarch had entrusted her with many details, yet she knew he still hid much from her; this felt like another of those times where she wouldn't get a straight answer.

"I don't trust him as far as I could throw him," the Exarch grumbled, glaring at the floor--and, to a degree, at himself. After a silent moment, he looked back to Lyna. “... I do, however, trust our Warriors of Darkness. After all, if not for them, I--" he stopped, then shook his head a little as he corrected himself, smiling ruefully, "rather, none of us would be here."

"...If I may speak freely, my lord...?"

"Of course," the Exarch tilted his head a little. Lyna made a face, then took a breath.

"Was he not the one to place you and the Warriors in mortal peril before...?" She took a step forward, "I worry for you all should he decide to try once more. He is one of the 'Ascians' you told me of, correct...?" The Exarch's ears perked at her question... he'd forgotten that he'd explained that.

"Yes... I understand, Lyna. But...in this matter, we must trust them." He smiled at her, doing his best to reassure her; as much as himself. "I am certain that, if they must act, they will make the right decisions."

Lyna looked to the Exarch for a moment, then smiled a little. She saluted and nodded, "I will head out to make sure transportation is available when they are ready to head out." She turned, then hurried off.

The Crystal Exarch stood in the middle of the Ocular, alone. For a brief moment, he felt the emptiness of the tower itself, and let his eyelids fall shut.

"Ah... I have work to do as well, don't I, my friends...?" He opened his ruby eyes, feeling as tired as he ever had, "For the Scions, and the Source..."

* * * In the aftermath of that morning, Yuki found herself quite overwhelmed with everything that had transpired; thinking about it at all gave her a headache.

First they’d fought a desperate battle against Hades, seemingly returned from the dead. Then there was how the battle had ended, and afterwards, all of this talk about creation magic and the lost powers of Amaurot…! The Viera glared at her palm, almost daring something to conjure into existence suddenly; her expression fairly said “go ahead, aether, make my day.” ...Of course, nothing happened.

What a nonsensical notion, she thought to herself. 

And yet...and yet the most sensible woman she’d ever known was buying into it completely, to the point that the Ascian was coming along with them to Eulmore! To Eulmore, the very place he’d helped twist into…!

It was all a mess. The Viera groaned, flopping back onto her bed. Her emerald carbuncle hopped up lightly to join her, snuggling close to her; Yuki brought her thin fingers down on its head, gently petting the creature...it helped her clear her thoughts, and grudgingly accept that there was no changing things, not at this point. 

She’d better get moving; Shoto would be expecting her and her compatriot. So first, obviously, came gathering Sumire from his room.

Standing up, Yuki hoisted her dark blue travel bag, slinging it over one shoulder and moving towards the door. She glanced back at the room one more time to make sure she didn't leave anything; a sheen from the nightstand caught her attention, her carbuncle bouncing happily over to it, scrabbling at the nightstand with her little paws. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, and her hands automatically went to find that, sure enough, she’d forgotten her necklace! 

This morning must really be getting to me, she thought ruefully to herself, fastening the black cord about her neck and adjusting the single crystal...touching it brought back memories of a younger Miqo’te, his purple hair bouncing as he bounded through the Limsan crowds to present it to her like a trophy, grinning from ear to ear; his little token of thanks to his best friend.

Yuki allowed herself a soft laugh. It all seems so long ago, now...Heh.

With her necklace secure, she patted the carbuncle’s head again and headed for the door, the magical beast following with a coo. 

"Thank you, Carby. Now, let’s see if we can go get Sumi moving." 

Late, late, late; always late despite all their best efforts. And on today, of all days! An important day like this! They sprinted through the streets of Amaurot, hoping very faintly that the others weren’t gone, but knowing that--

"Theia! Over here!" A familiar voice called.

"You haven't left yet...?"

Why were they still here...?

"Because we're supposed to leave together, silly. Don't you want to go with us?" The familiar voice responded with a snicker.

"But I'm so very late..."

"You often are," another voice replied, reassuringly, "So why would we leave before you arrived?"

"You're part of our constellation," a warm, calming voice spoke from behind. "Worry not, we would never leave you behind, Theia."

"Persephone..."

Sumire had fallen asleep again after coming back from the Ocular; despite his getting dressed after the fight, he hadn't made up his bed before he'd left. The blankets had been kicked off the bed at some point during the night, and he hadn't picked them up. He was using his pillow more like a stuffed animal than a proper pillow, and he was curled up tightly near the bottom of his bed... despite having laid down across the middle.

"Per...se...pho...?"

He blinked awake, just as the sun peeked out from behind some clouds to light up his room. Tears stung his eyes, and the Dragoon reached up to wipe them away in confusion.

"What was I...?" 

Sumire pushed himself up, then rubbed at his eyes again. He tried to recall even the end of his dream, but it wouldn't come back, and all he could feel was the lingering sadness deep within his heart that he had no context for. 

"Just a dream," he told himself, then frowned, "Like always, it's just a dream." 

Taking a deep breath, he looked around his room, fighting down another yawn. "How long have I been..." 

Shaking his head, he flicked his ears as he stood up, letting his thoughts trail away into nothingness. A yawn overtook him, and he almost involuntarily stretched his whole body; even his tail, shivering afterwards...he still felt out of it. Drowsy wasn’t quite the word, but it was close, perhaps? Sighing, he pulled his shirt off and headed to the bathroom to wash his face--maybe the water would help him wake up more.

The young Dragoon cupped the warm water from the faucet, letting it heat up for a moment before splashing himself in the face a few times, grabbing a towel afterwards to dry off. Leaning on the sink, he stared into the mirror with a pensive frown.

That dream...it didn’t feel quite right. I’m used to strange dreams, ever since back then, with the dragon...But...That was stranger than any I remember...

...And it felt like... Reaching up to push his hair back, he examined his right eye in the mirror, the pupil and iris moonstone-white; dead to the normal sense of sight, it could now only sense the otherworldly radiance of aether. It had ached so badly in the Ocular, especially every time he looked over at the newly resurrected Ascian, but now it felt fine, and it looked no different than ever. He flicked his ears.

“Honestly, what...what was all that drivel about creation magic...?" Letting his hair drop back over his sight-blind eye, he let out a long, haggard sigh. “Couldn’t it...Couldn’t just...be...their normal magic, acting up…? Or being weird, or just…” He made a face and glanced over to the towel once more…

“But then, I’d have to worry about Yuki, wouldn’t I…?”

No, no, that couldn’t be it. Yuki would be fine. She had to be. She was the stronger one.

Sighing with the weight of his fatigue, he went back to the process of washing his face. He cupped more water, then ran it and his fingers through his shaggy, violet hair to push it all out of his face. He kept splashing his face and running water over his head until he no longer felt like he'd go back to sleep if he stopped.

Yuki would be fine. She had to be. She was the stronger one.

* * * Sumire hadn’t expected the person he was thinking of to greet him as he stepped from the bathroom, but-- “You’re late.”

--there was her familiar voice, greeting the shirtless Miqo’te as he was drying off and nearly making him drop the towel he was using to do so. He managed to instead put said towel over his head as he blinked, his eyes wide with sudden surprise at the presence of the Viera before him.

“Y-Yuki!?” His ears flickering nearly sent the towel to the floor a second time, so he put it around his shoulders. “Wh-What are you d--?"

“I came to make sure you were okay,” she said in a mildly reproachful tone, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes just so. “It’s already been half a bell. You were asleep again, weren’t you?” He didn’t answer, but the color in his cheeks and the way he quickly went back to drying his hair, as well as the unkempt status of his bed and the way he guiltily glanced over to it, gave her all the answer she needed. Yuki let out a long sigh, frowning more than a little at his lack of denial.

“Is it that late? I...I didn’t think I’d been out that long, honest. I didn’t mean to make you worry...I’m sorry.” His ears pinned back and she shook her head, smiling just a little, though she still looked worried.

“I'm just concerned about how...worn out you’ve seemed to be. Are you sure you're feeling okay? You don't have to push yourself."

Well, that was enough to make Sumire very, very interested in the ground, scuffing his foot against the ground. “I...I’m not pushing myself.”

“...Sumire.” Yuki was not having it.

“I’m not pushing myself that much!” Sumire protested. “Look, it...It’s probably a side effect of the whole...rejoining of souls, that we were just hearing about. It makes sense, you know? Given that back when we were in the Tempest…” The Seeker gripped the ends of his towel around his neck, "I saw Renda-Rae in the Light, and she lent me her strength to help Shoto. Just like you saw Nyelbert, right?” “...That’s true,” Yuki admitted, chewing her lip. Each of them had spoken, in that brief moment, to one of Norvrandt’s former Warriors of Light. “So no matter what, we know they’re part of us now, at least,” Sumire said, nodding, his tail flicking and curling lightly in thought. “And my body’s probably just...adjusting to that.” “Even with that logic, no one else is--” Yuki started in, huffing, but paused as she realized that wasn’t quite true. “...Alright, so Angel did sort of summon a glowing...orange...not-carbuncle in front of everyone...And Shoto mentioned strange things happening too.” Her long ears twitched slightly as she considered this. “...But still--”

Her voice died as she saw the disappointed look on Sumire’s face. "So you've really not noticed...anything since then?"

Part of him sounded like he didn’t quite believe her; the other part just sounded kind of saddened, and the combination was enough to make Yuki turn towards the window with a sigh, staring out of it for a long, silent beat… “I...No. I haven’t. Everything is fine,” she replied, insistent, accenting the fine. “It’s you we need to worry about. Mostly, anyway.”

“Alright,” Sumire replied; he wasn’t sure he wanted to push further on that topic right now, and besides, he kind of needed to put a shirt back on, he was getting a little cold. He reached for the one he had been wearing, but it turned out that a certain Emerald Carbuncle had curled up on it quite comfortably, and Carby made a plaintive warble when he so much as reached for it. Acquiescing, he hung the towel over the back of the chair and dug a new shirt from the dresser; he caught Yuki watching him out of the corner of his eye, though she made a frustrated noise and looked away when she caught his gaze.

It should’ve made him chuckle, or at least smile; even if it was overbearing, he didn’t mind that Yuki was concerned for him at all, it had always been her way. But when he picked up the shirt, his hands shook, and he stopped.

A wave of alien sadness, sadness from nowhere he could identify, welled up in his chest; tears pricked his eyes, several falling onto the fabric. He shook his head and hurriedly tried to wipe the tears away, but Yuki had noticed and practically bounded over to him, even more concerned. “You’re not okay,” she whispered, “I knew it.”

He felt his face flush in embarrassment, but he couldn’t lie to her. Sighing, he shifted to sit on the dresser; he slipped the shirt over his shoulders, but didn’t button it up at all yet. “You were crying, Sumire, please...at least tell me why,” Yuki pressed, and his tail flicked, his ears drooping.

“I don’t...I don’t remember.”

"Remember what?"

"I don't remember why I'm sad. I-I woke up like this." He took a long breath, shaking his head, and kept going before Yuki could ask another question or interject. "The only really different thing, other than just being tired, is...is this, and the dreams.” “I thought you told me your dreams are usually just...echoes, from the dragon’s blood?” Yuki’s frown intensified.

Sumire nodded. “Usually, they are! But these are...different. They’re strange, they don’t feel like the ones I get from the dragon’s blood, and I can remember those. These, I can’t. I can’t even recall the faces I saw, or imagined I saw.” He reached up to touch his chest. “All that I’m left with is whatever emotions the dream stirred up, like...this stupid sadness, sadness I have no context for.”

Yuki’s eyes narrowed, but not in a glare; more like she was mentally comparing something. “You can’t recall anything, at all?”

Sumire blinked and cocked his head to the side. “...Now you sound like you know something about them. Are you okay, Yuki?” He couldn’t help but give a bit of a wry smirk at the opportunity to tease her, even lightly; and he was rewarded with the Viera’s cheeks coloring as she huffed, pouted, and pointed a finger at his forehead.

“No no no! We’re talking about you! I told you, I’m fine, nothing is different, everything is okay! But you are having weird dreams that you can’t remember, which make you cry; Angel is having nightmares and orange imagination beasts; a-and Shoto’s crying her eyes out, over eggs.”

Sumire blinked. "I don't think it was eg--"

“Eggs, Sumi!” Yuki had turned sharply to the side, put her hands on her hips, and stomped her foot. The violet-haired Miqo’te blinked again, his mouth a perfect “o”, but he let it go--he knew when Yuki didn’t want to talk about something, and Yuki did not want to address the Ascian-shaped elephant in the room, least of all Shoto’s feelings of guilt involving the Paragon.

Yuki crossed her arms, taking a few deep breaths and calming down, lowering her voice a little. "You should all go talk to Chessamile. Maybe she's got a tonic that'll cheer you up." Her expression now looked downcast, and Sumire couldn’t help but hop down from his seat on the dresser, shaking his head. “Yuki...I’ll be okay. I’m feeling better already, just talking like this, I don’t need a Cheering-Up Potion.” He offered her a smile.

She did not believe him. “That dream had you crying over the sight of your, of your own shirt,” she said, biting her lip, her ears twitching slightly again. “You’re going to be okay in Kholusia, in Eulmore? We’re going to be there a while, and…” “Of course I’ll be okay,” he replied immediately, not even having to think about it. “I have you with me.”

There was a long, long moment of silence, in which Yuki blinked, and her cheeks went a brilliant cherry-blossom color, her mouth hanging open. Her expression turned rapidly to a protesting pout, her hands finding her hips as she stared right into his eyes and Sumire began to feel rapidly like he’d made a terrible mistake.

“Wh-wh-what’s that supposed to mean, Sumi?!??”

Sumire held up his hands, blinking. “Nothing strange…? It’s just...We’ve gone everywhere together since we met, haven’t we?” He tilted his head. “You’ve saved me numerous times when I got in over my head. You've been the reason I could make it through so much that I probably shouldn't have."

"Sumire," she mumbled, paling. Her pout was giving way to a crestfallen look, an ashen, fearful expression, the more he spoke, but Sumire hadn’t noticed as he kept speaking-- “You’re my partner, aren’t you?” ...There was another long moment of silence as Yuki’s expression changed again, her cheeks going brilliant red once more. “...Y-yes! That! Of course! Of course I am, and we’re...Right!” Now, despite her affirmative words, the Viera looked clearly angry; she looked like she might kick over the table, and her ears twitched much differently than her earlier agitation, extremely irritated. Once more, Sumire worried he’d made a huge mistake.

“Yuki?” "Yes. Yes, we're partners! Y-you're absolutely right, and there's no way that could be misconstrued or anything! It's, it's all fine! Everything is great!" She stamped her foot again, and the table shook from the force. The Miqo’te’s own face was now full of concern. “Yuki, are you...Sorry, I worded that wrong, I should have--”

"N-NO! You're fine! I'm just, I need, to go get some air! Aaaugh!" 

Yuki turned on her heel, then stormed off; Carby leapt up from Sumire's shirt, then bounded after her. She only took a few steps before she stopped; the carbuncle leapt up into a twirl, then disappeared into aetherial mist… and Sumire was left there, staring at where the carbuncle had disappeared and stunned by what had just taken place. 

Part of him wanted to immediately run after her, try to get her to understand what he'd meant. But that would be foolish, he knew; she needed some time to herself, especially if she had also dismissed Carby. Sumire shook his head, gazing at the floor with a soft, small sigh.

And then he noticed it; a bright glimmer, a shining thing. When he knelt down, he realized...it was a violet-colored...crystal, it looked like? It hadn’t been there before.

"That's odd, did she drop this?" He reached out to pick up the crystal so he could return it to her, but pulled his hand back instantly at the touch; it felt like it had burned him, but not with heat. 

"What the--... it.. it's cold...?" 

He looked down to his hand, then the crystal, "...Violet... ice?" 

Sumire didn't want to touch it again, as cold as it was, but he was curious.. upon closer inspection, he realized the violet-colored ice was shaped like a tiger cub...

* * * Stupid Sumire. Why did he have to go and say things like that?

Yuki’s teeth were grit tight enough to snap as she stalked across the length of the Exedra; she didn’t know if anyone greeted her, and she didn’t really care, right now. Her body was almost on autopilot, it felt like, and she was just trying to get...away.

But she couldn’t. As fast as her stride carried her, her village caught up to her in her mind’s eye; the violet-leaved trees surrounding the Crystarium melted away into the deep green forests of her youth, the bustle of the Exedra and the Dossal Gate became birdsong, and she could hear her mother’s voice, bright and melodious.

“Mjöll!”

That isn’t my name, she thought.

But it had been, back then. Back when her whole world was the woman she could still see if she thought for even a moment; her light brown hair, long, tied into a single braid that fell down between her shoulders, framing her long ears. Her mother’s smile was always warm, always welcome, her arms always open to embrace her only daughter. “There you are, my precious Mjöll!”

“Stop it!” she hissed to no one, quiet and fierce, trying to calm the storm of her emotions, her eyes shut tight. 

When she opened them, she realized she’d made it up the stairs to the Amaro Launch, standing out on the round platform where the amaros took off and landed...when she gazed out at the barren mountains of Lakeland, in the distance, it struck her how truly similar they were to the Skatay Mountains of her homeland...or would be, if it ever snowed on Norvrandt. 

The homeland she would likely never see again, that she’d left behind along with the name “Mjöll” and the only family she’d ever known, at the age of seventeen.

But I had to. 

I couldn’t...I couldn’t live like that!

She counted herself lucky that her tribe had been part of Clan Veena; if she’d been Rava-born, she’d have been sworn to the Green Word, and her friends in childhood had sworn that Ravan mothers killed daughters who discovered the world outside. She’d have been trapped in the Golmore Jungle forever, if the Imperials hadn’t gotten her first. 

But still, what her Clan had in common with Clan Rava was this: when they came of age, and the Wood-warders came wandering in, they would take a mate. Then, the Wood-warders would be gone again, and the women would spend the rest of their lives anchored to their village. Chained to their village, raising the children of a father they would never even know as more than a name.

She’d been revolted by the idea ever since she first understood it, ever since it was something other than a nebulous concept of roles in Vieran society. Her mother and her teachers had all promised her it would make sense as she grew, she would understand it, she would welcome it.

She hadn’t. It was vile. To...to rut with someone you barely knew, like an animal, once every three or five or even ten years, and then let them disappear back into the woods with barely a word. 

The soothsayers could mumble all they wanted about how “the distance 'twixt two bodies does not dictate the distance 'twixt two souls,” and how anyone who thought different was “looking for coexistence beneath a loincloth”, but it was all stupid nonsense. None of the Viera in her village who mated had ever thought of their mates outside of that cursed season, and why would they? The men were there to saddle the women with their children and go off into the wood to die, usually in agony, always alone.

The idea of that being her whole life, of being yet another village mother haggard from chasing after her children, whom she would raise to be nothing but more mothers, made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. It felt wrong, it wasn’t what she wanted. She knew she was meant for more than that, and she was drawn to the world beyond the Skatay, beyond Dalmasca. “Mjöll, this is foolishness! You have a responsibility,” she could hear her mother telling her. “When you hold your own precious kits in your arms, you’ll understand…”

“I don’t want that!” she’d said. “I don’t want to be forced to spend the rest of my life that way, I want to make a difference...”

“You will make a difference! You’ll be guaranteeing the future of our people!” “Not like that…!!”

“Then like how, Mjöll?” Her mother had her hands on her hips, frowning, her glare piercing.

“Like...like an adventurer,” she’d managed.

It wasn’t unheard of for Bangaa, either in small adventuring groups or whole trade caravans, to pass through the village; many of the village girls, Yuki included, would always secretly make time to go hear their stories of the outside world. For most of them, it was enough just to hear the wild tales, but what she’d heard had stirred something inside of Yuki, a yearning that had never died. And most of all, she loved their tales of other adventurers, fighting fiends and righting wrongs in far-off lands. She knew, from the first tale she heard, what she wanted to do in the future. Her mother hadn’t been amused in the least by her suggestion, her expression turning deeply angry. “You mean to run off with those disgusting, greedy lizard-men? Off to be sold into slavery or get killed playing at revolutionary?! Absolutely not! I forbid it! I won’t hear any more of this nonsense, Mjöll!”

And here was the expected outcome, her mother’s words firm and absolute. Yuki desperately wanted to protest, to convince her mother otherwise...but...it was impossible. 

Her mother believed too much in the trap that was their culture. In mothers bound to create more mothers, forever. In tears, the young Viera had gone to her room and prayed to any of the Twelve that might listen for another path. For a way out. For escape.

And she had been answered by a very different Mother. By Her.

Hear. Feel. Think.

That had been the same night she’d left the Skatay Range, and the forest that ringed it, forever. The argument with her mother had been the last time she'd talked to her. The only thing she left behind had been a single note in her room, intended for her mother, that told her of her decision and that she would be okay on her own.

Yuki curled up a bit at the memory, pulling her legs up and against her chest as she sat alone at the edge of the platform.

She had wandered for a few days after she'd left; she’d had to evade more than one Garlean patrol, and vividly remembered the terror of crouching beneath a farm shed’s ruin, breathing shallowly, as a battalion of magitek armor trampled through the smoking, burning field behind her. She was endlessly grateful to find one of her Bangaa friends on the way, and they had traveled together to Kugane.

The city had been beautiful, yes, and she’d been free.

Free and completely alone. 

It had been overwhelming, all the sights, sounds, and even smells of Kugane. Everything was so new... and she’d felt so helplessly, completely lost and afraid. All of the darker whispers she’d heard from the other girls and from the travelers on the road, along with her mother’s angry reasons for denial, had loomed like phantoms in her mind. She’d been sitting by the dock, morosely chewing on a bowl of rice she’d managed to buy with some of her last coins, when a fisherman approached her. He was a huge, barrel-chested Roegadyn; she thought now he was probably a Sea Wolf, though she knew nothing of the Roegadyn at the time save how large and rather frightening they were. “Why, ‘ello, lass,” he’d said, cautious and friendly, but she’d still jumped at his voice. “Not oft I see forest folk ‘round ‘ere.”

The young Viera hadn't known what to say; being honest, her voice had left her in her fear. Seeing how she shook, the Sea Wolf looked apologetic, and knelt down to make himself less threatening, taking one knee...she remembered most of all now how kind his weathered features had been. “Wot’ll be thy name, then?”

Yuki smiled sadly and shook her head at the remembered question, laying her forehead on her knees; a pained chuckle escaped her. The question had only frightened her more, as silly as it seemed now; she only knew she couldn’t keep her forest name after she’d thrown everything else about the forest away, it wouldn’t be right. But then, what to say? That she didn’t know her own name…? It’d been then that she’d finally started to cry…

“That was the first time I cried since I left, wasn’t it?”

The fisherman bit his lip in worried sympathy, and his warm, large hand had patted her lightly on the head. “Ay up, ay up, nowt of all t’at. Ye’ve no need t’ tell me thy name if ye don’t want te. Are ye lost?” The Viera found her voice once more, though it came after a ragged sob. She shook her head to his question, unable to stop crying. “I-I came here... h-hoping to be... an a-adventurer…”

She expected him to laugh at her, or sneer, but he just looked surprised that she’d actually responded, and then his features had become thoughtful as he smiled, his finger against his chin. “Hm. Reckons I ye might have a bit of t’ auld luck in Eorzea, more’n ‘ere...Well ‘en, tells ye wot, lass. I surely need an ‘elper on me way back t’ Limsa Lominsa--that’s t’ great port town of t’ West. An’ ye might well find adventurin’ there. What ye say?”

It had been a small thing, really; a little act of kindness. But that offer, that opportunity, that had shaped everything, really. That offer had let her keep moving forwards, instead of bringing her journey to an abrupt end or taking it down a darker, more terrible path than she wanted to think about, even now. And back then, it had been a life ring tossed to a drowning girl. She’d leapt at the chance; she’d nodded so fast she felt almost dizzy, her face beaming with her first genuine smile since arriving in Kugane, a flame of hope kindled in her heart.

“Y-yes! Yes, please!” “Then there’s nowt else for ‘t,” he’d laughed. “Ahldstyrm is I, Cap’n of t’ Glorious Summer, an’ promises I that I’ll see ye safe t’ harbor.”

She wished she could’ve given the old Roegadyn a hug now, gone to him with all her troubles. She owed him so much, looking back.

If I’d gone anywhere else but Limsa...I’d never have met Sumire, either, would I?

“Yuki?”

Shortly after boarding the Glorious Summer, she and Ahldstyrm had realized the problem with her remaining nameless--he didn’t want to press her, but she’d wanted to help, earn her keep, and both captain and crew would need to get her attention somehow.

“Reckon we’ll need t’ call you sommat, e’en if just for t’ trip,” he’d pronounced, scratching his bearded chin as he looked her over. “...Yer hair an’ ears, lass, if’n ye don’t mind my sayin’, puts me t’ think of t’ snow, surely...There’s a Hingashi word for it, ‘yuki’. Seems it fits ye? D’ye reckon, leastways till we gets t’ Limsa?”

“Yuki...” She tried it out, welcomed the sound. “Yuki...Yes. I like that.”

And just like the first snowfall that marked winter, it had stuck.

"Yuki...?"

Her name again... That wasn't from her memories, though.

No, that was Sumire's voice; she was sure of it. She lifted her head, then turned to look beside her...and there he was, dressed for the trip, had his travel bag over his shoulder, and had his lance resting beside him; he was solely focused on her. 

How long had he been here...? 

She tried to pout at him, but couldn't manage the usual amount of energy behind it.

"I thought I told you I needed some air?" She tried to grouse, but didn't really mean it; judging by the little wry smile on the Miqo'te's face, he knew that. He shook his head in response, then looked to the mountains in the distance.

"Sorry, Yuki, but...you’ve been out here for a while," his tail curled a bit behind him. "I told Shoto you went for a walk, after the chaos this morning."

"Is she still getting ready?" Yuki shifted, letting her legs dangle over the end again, while she stretched her arms and back.

"She finished. She asked where you were when she noticed you weren't at the gate. I told her I knew where you'd be," he shifted to stand up carefully, "so I said I'd come tell you she was finished getting ready."

Yuki just watched him stand up, silently. Sumire placed his weapon on his back, then held his hand out to her. She looked at his hand, then up to his face for a moment. 

In her mind’s eye, she saw his bare chest, his bright smile, all the parts of him she couldn’t stop looking at, lately. She felt a warmth spreading slowly up her spine, a warmth that spiked when he said those terrible words--

“Of course I’ll be okay, I have you with me.”

She couldn’t feel that way about him. She wouldn’t feel that way about him. It was wrong, it was disgusting, it was a betrayal of everything she stood for, she might as well have marched back into her village in the Skatay foothills and literally chained herself to the cold earth.

“We’re partners, aren’t we?”

Mentally, she heard another voice, a Xaela voice; the Dotharl chieftain’s eyes sharp even if Sadu’s characteristic smirk had never left her face, her own arms crossed as she cocked her head. The day she’d drawn Yuki aside, after the Liberation of Ala Mhigo--

“How long will you play with that one’s heart, forest girl? He’d chase you across fifteen reincarnations, and you won’t even tell him one thing or the other…?”

No. 

She’d been wrong. 

Sadu had been wrong then, and she’d continue to be wrong. She shook her head and stood up on her own, and Sumire blinked, but withdrew his arm without saying anything more.

"So, Shoto's gone on ahead then, I assume?" 

Yuki turned to head back up the long platform to the Launch. Sumire hurried to keep up with her pace, then chuckled again. 

"She wouldn't leave us behind. We're supposed to head out together, so she won't head off until we're all with her."

Yuki stopped at that, then blinked. She felt an odd sense of deja vu she couldn't place. She looked at Sumire as he took a few steps ahead of her, then stopped. He turned to look back when he realized she wasn't still beside him.

"Sumi, didn't I tell you that once?" She asked before he could speak. He flicked his ears, then looked thoughtful for a moment. It did feel like a familiar response, but he couldn't recall who'd said it before.

"You may have... I don't quite remember." He shook his head, then smiled at her, "Either way, it's true. Shoto's waiting for us."

STUPID SUMI, IT’S NOT LIKE I LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING

Hopefully you enjoyed this brief interlude into Tsundere Viera Land. Next chapter, it will be ALL CAT HUSBANDS, ALL THE TIME.

Sidenote: Enjoy Patch 5.4, everyone!! :D

[dungeoneering102]

Improving Cults

So recently I had a post about how cults should be designed (IMO). I mentioned the four cults present in the D&D module Princes of the Apocalypse and said how those were really bad examples. Due to some interest, I decided to make this post that elaborates on how I have altered those four cults to make them more realistic and interesting.

Why I Dislike the Original PoA Cults

In the original book, the Players are supposed to face off against 4 cults: the Black Earth, Howling Hatred, Crushing Wave, and Eternal Flame. Each of them have a leader (referred to as “prophet”) and work semi-together to summon super powerful creatures called “Princes.” The book also mentions that they all serve the “Elemental Eye.” Here are my problems with this set up:

We don’t ever get told what the Elemental Eye is. It seems to be just a pedestal or an unnamed entity. But it’s never explained.

The cults work together. This makes them all just fade into each other. There’s no drama because now the players are just fighting a large group that happens to have 4 leaders.

The cults all have the same goal but very little distinguishing elements in terms of their philosophy or approach to said goal.

So let’s try to fix this...

Elemental Eye

I hate that this aspect is never explained. It was just so very vague and yet its what commands the four cults. Supposedly, the Eye has given the cults their power and influence. In turn, it will somehow eventually inform the cult leaders on what ritual to conduct to summon their respective Princes. The Eye does this only WHEN the Party kills the first two Prophets. So I changed it all around.

The Eye is a physical thing. It is a stone of great power, supposedly locked within the altar in Fane of the Eye dungeon. In my story, the Eye calls forth the four Prophets, but informs them that it will only choose the STRONGEST among them. This is important and I’ll discuss why below. But now it is a physical thing and once ONE of the Prophets proves themselves powerful enough, the Eye is gifted to this person. All others die upon touching the Eye.

Lastly, to get to the eye, each Prophet has to prove that THEIR cult is the strongest and has the most influence. They do this by getting the most recruits and building beacons across the valley. The beacons are something that you can see in the module’s artbook section, although they’ve been cut from the final game. I re-inserted them as buildings that would be a sign of the cults’ growing in power. Your PCs can stumble onto these as they explore the valley. The cult that proves to be most influential, gets to summon their Prince.

The Cults DO NOT Work Together

Around the Renaissance Era, the Christian church had several divisions. New branches and sects appeared all over Europe, and started fighting over who is the TRUE CHRISTIAN church. They all believed in the same God and Jesus. What was different is how they worshiped these figures. The result was a complex political game fought between these powerful and rich churches over the souls of their followers and the influence over Europe. These conflicts ended with people fleeing Europe, the Catholic Church setting people on fire, and a very powerful shift in the politics of the time.

I think, that’s a pretty interesting story. So why are the cults of PoA just working together, with some minor issues between them? I say cut them the fuck apart. They are four individual cults. They believe in the same deity (the Eye) but go about worshiping it in different ways. They each have their own beliefs and philosophies that conflict with one another, and pit them against each other. Why do we do this? Because 4 DIFFERENT baddies is better than 1 four headed baddie. This conflict between the cults, allows the Players to play a large and complex game of politics, where they play off each of the cults against one another to get them to destroy each other. PCs might ally with one cult, only to get into a big mess and have ANOTHER cult offer them help in return for betraying their former allies. In the end, you get a Game of Thrones level game of politics and alliances.

Unique Cults

Now all of the four cults want the same thing: summon forth their elemental daddy. The problem with this, they might just meld into each other and become very similar. So we have to differentiate them in three ways:

How they present themselves (identity).

What do they believe in (philosophy).

How they act during combat (gameplay).

If you distinguish EACH of these, you get distinctly diverse cults. Below is going to be MY breakdown of how I distinguish each of the Elemental Cults.

Howling Hatred Storm.

Change that fuckin’ name. No one will wanna be a part of a group called “Howling Hatred.” Bad guy groups usually pick actually socially OKAY names, otherwise they won’t get any supporters. Let’s call them “Howling Storm” or “Howling Wind.” ANYTHING else but HATRED!

Identity/Philosophy. The wind is fickle and full of lies. The leader of the cult, one Aerisi Kalinoth, pretends to be a winged elf by creating fake wings using illusions. Their main outpost is filled with cultists who PRETEND to be knights. The whole thing reeks of deception and illusion. So I made that their selling point. Make your dreams a reality is the tag line for this cult. They convince people to join, so that when THEIR Prince is summoned he can blanket the world in an illusive state, where everyone’s best dream will come true. Of course, they will all live in a constant dream state, but it doesn’t matter. People who are depressed enough would be willing to fall into eternal sleep if it is guaranteed to make them and their friends forever happy. This is what Aerisi offers. She appeals to the desperate, the depressed, the lonely. She offers them to live out their dreams in an eternal sleep. Kind of like a suicide cult.

Gameplay. This is very simple. The cultists stay airborne as MUCH as possible. Forcing PCs to fight vertically, instead of horizontally, find cover, find ways to fly up as well, climb high structures, etc.

Black Earth

Personally, the Prophet of this cult is my favorite. So to be fair, I don’t much to change about this cult.

Identity/Philosophy. For this cult I ran with the theme of burial. Marlos Urnrayle, the prophet of Black Earth, sells the burying of your past. Made bad choices in life? Did thing you regret? Forget about it. Bury that past, and on the dirt build your life anew. Atop the ruins of old, rise your new home. This would totally get the attention of past criminals and bandits, whose lives have been ruined by their own crimes. Now they can start anew, in an organization that accepts EVERYONE.

Gameplay. Another easy one. You should describe your cultists as being extra tough and hard to break. Maybe give some of them some earth powers, ripped out of Avatar: the Last Airbender. I let my cultists just call forth pillars and stone walls, while others would swim through earth as if it were water.

Eternal Flame

Identity/Philosophy. Compared to the other cults, this one seemed more combative and militaristic. So I ran with that. Vanifer, the cult’s leader, runs a militia. Again, remember that the valley is without any leadership. She offers leadership. Her message is that she is building the army this valley desperately needs and she intends to bring peace and order to this valley, by force if need be. Her selling point is that she promotes discipline and order. People who lack any purpose, live messy lives, or need some kind of a leader-figure to tell them what to do, would fall into this easily. Think of veterans or troops, who after wartime cannot fall back into normal life as they need someone to order them around.

Gameplay. These guys are on FIYAAAA. Make their armor too hot to touch, make being around them uncomfortable. Allow them to be strategically more intelligent, using maneuvers to flank, surprise, and stun their opponents. This is a military organization, after all.

Crushing Wave

Identity/Philosophy. This cult consists of smugglers and pirates. What do pirates stand for? That’s right, an anti-establishment way of life. So the cult preaches FREEDOM. But absolute freedom. In fact, anarchy. Gar seeks a world that he can drown, where only those deemed strong enough can survive and are thus freed from the shackles of social restrictions. This idea of absolute freedom without authority, of being able to live off your own merit and not having to answer to anyone, is something many would like. People who have been duped by corrupt officials, people who dislike the restrictions of society, or dislike social norms. The Wave offers them all a chance to be free of this.

Gameplay. I got Lovecraft vibes from the cult. his cult is led by Gar Shatterkeel, who almost drowned but heard a voice in the oceans that led him to safety. Borderline Cthulhu-esque. SO, I made them all weird and creepy. They talk strange, they walk strange, they tend to stare. Ultimately, while they all fight for absolute freedom, the irony is that they are being manipulated by a primordial entity that is slowly brainwashing them.

Last Point - Diversity

In the book, all cultists (except the prophets) are human. That’s all fine and dandy but I don’t see why it needs to be so. I recommend you make the cults more diverse in their composition. Elves, dwarves, orcs, dragonborn, whatever you got. Not because YAY DIVERSITY or anything. Just because, I think it makes most sense that cults that fight for influence and power, wouldn’t discriminate based on race or gender. This, in fact, could be a selling point for them. Especially if you have racial tensions in your Fantasy setting.

I hope you all find this breakdown of how I modified the cults helpful. Please remember, that these are not “THE BEST WAY TO PLAY.” These are only the best way I found to play. You might find something that fits your campaigns and players better. Special shoutout to @ravenbane13​ (and everyone else who reblogged my last post) for encouraging this piece. I did go a bit longer than I wish, but hey, I hope you find some use in that wall of text.

The Unfair DM

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

I was tagged by the absolute art goddess @eluari!!! Thank you so much!! <3

Answer 11 questions, make 11 new questions, tag 11 people!

1. How long have you been working on your current wip(s)?

Like... hmm... two months ago, now? Give or take??

2. Have you ever felt the need to rewrite a character completely, and if so, why?

Nope!! Characters have grown and changed naturally, but I’ve never deliberately rewritten them. how much control d’you think i have over them?? XD

3. Is there a book or an author you find particularly inspiring?

Ahh, so many, J.R.R Tolkien is always there. Jay Kristoff is also an amazing author whose writing style I love and his stories are so clever - eXCEPT FOR THE FUCKING AWFUL STUPID UNCHARACTERISTIC RELATIONSHIP IN GODSGRAVE, YES I’M STILL ANGRY ABOUT THIS, WHAT THE FUCK?? I hope it’s just another ploy hhh

4. How do you feel when sharing your writing with others? (Be it on here, or somewhere else).

lmao everything I post here is actually not the original world I’m planning on writing my novel in, it’s actually an AU, bc I’ve had so many people in the past (and one recently) that have blatantly copied my ideas, or obviously taken inspiration from them. And let me say, there is literally nothing that scares me or pisses me off more or is a guaranteed way to make me hate them than somebody copying my shit. So don’t. No excuses, don’t. fucking. do. it.

5. What is a trope you hate with a passion and would never include in a wip?

I have so many tropes I hate but I can’t remember any now AAAA. “the bad guy is clearly evil and regrets nothing but is still getting redeemed” Kylo-Ren-esque thing makes me want to vomit. Same as “abusive relationships are passed off as healthy and ideal”, and “all your favourite characters die bc this fictional work that people use to escape the shittiness of real life has to be ~REALISTIC~ uwu”. I also hate it when the good guys don’t fuck up and are just perfect?? like there is so much grey in every person, so many mistakes, it’s what you do to make up for those mistakes that counts.

6. If you had to take the place of one of your characters, who would it be and why?

NONE OF THEM YIKES. X’D Probably Myriad.. they probably.. have the easiest time..? besides being Myriad would be so fucking fun >:)

7. How much detail about your wip do you plan out before starting to write it?

Not as much as I should have!! :D I’m trying to flesh out the plot more before I really throw myself into writing it, something I’ve never tried to do before... mostly I just wrote with a few plot points in mind and just connected the dots as I went but that often led to me getting discouraged and quitting. Plots are the fucking bane of my existence. :///

8. What is your favourite genre to write?

FANTASY FANTASY FANTASY. You just have so much creative freedom!!

9. What is a genre you wish you could write, but don’t think you will (for whatever reason)?

I wish I was better at writing real-world modern kind of fiction, but since I grew up writing fanfic for LOTR, my writing style has kind of cemented more in older, medieval-type writing, y’know?? I’m still trying to get better though!! It’s just not as fun to me. And I REALLY wanna try to write different fantasy subgenres - steampunk and cyberpunk, especially :P

10. Best snacks to have on hand to write with? If any?

what is food. all is write. until hours later when I feel like I’m going to black out, THEN I shovel food into my face. X’D

11. Predict what you think your final word count will be for your current wip.

Either way too short or way too long. :’)

Idk who to tag for this one, so if you have a WIP and wanna do this, I tag you!! <3

[mrkwonandmrchoibabygirl]

Bared to him-Seungri Pt.11

This flipping gorgeous moodboard was made by @jimins-crooked-tooth thank you so much!

Genre:Smut/Angst/Fluff

Pairing:Seungri x Reader

Rated: NC-17

Wordcount:4,875

Masterlist

Disclaimer:REMEMBER THIS IS ONLY AN EDIT OF ORIGINAL BOOK CALLED BARED TO YOU BY SYLVIA DAY!

I quickly clicked through other links in the digest to find the same picture with similar captions and articles. Alarmed, I sat back and thought about what this meant. If one kiss was headline news, what chance would Seunghyun and I have to make a relationship work?

My hands weren't quite steady as I closed the browser tabs. I hadn't considered the press coverage, but I should have. "Damn it."

Anonymity was my friend. It protected me from my past. It protected my family from embarrassment, and Seunghyun , too. I didn't even have any social networking accounts so people who weren't actively in my life couldn't find me.

A thin, invisible wall between me and exposure was gone.

"Hell," I breathed, finding myself in a painful situation I could have avoided if I'd dedicated any of my brain cells to something other than Seunghyun.

There was also his reaction to this mess to consider...I cringed inwardly just thinking about it. And my mother. It wouldn't be long before she was calling and blowing everything out of -

"Shit." Remembering that she didn't have my new cell number, I picked up my desk phone and called my other voice mail to see if she'd already tried to reach me. I winced when I heard that my mailbox was full.

I hung up and grabbed my purse; then headed off to lunch, knowing Hae would help me put it all in perspective. I was so flustered when I reached the lobby level that I rushed out of the elevator with my only thought being to find my roommate. When I spotted him, I didn't take note of anyone else until Seunghyun sidestepped smoothly in front of me and blocked my path.

"Y/N." He frowned down at me. Cupping my elbow, he turned me slightly around. That's when I saw the two women and a man who'd hidden him from my view.

I managed to find a smile for them. "Hello."

Seunghyun introduced me to his lunch dates. Then he excused us and tugged me off to the side. "What's wrong? You're upset."

"It's all over the place," I whispered. "A picture of us together."

He nodded. "I've seen it."

I blinked up at him, confused at his nonchalance. "You're okay with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be? For once, they're reporting the truth."

A sneaking suspicion niggled at me. "You planned it. You planted the story."

"Not entirely true," he said smoothly. "The photographer happened to be there. I just gave him a picture worth printing, and told PR to make it clear who you are and what you are to me."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"You have your way of dealing with jealousy and I have mine. We're both off the market and now everyone knows it. Why is that a problem for you?"

"I was worried about your reaction, but there's more...There are things you don't know and I - " I took a deep, shaky breath. "It can't be that way between us, Seunghyun. We can't be public. I don't want - Damn it. I'll embarrass you."

"You couldn't. It's not possible." He brushed a loose lock of hair off my face. "Can we talk about this later? If you need me - "

"No, it's okay. Go."

Hae came over. Dressed in baggy black cargo pants and a V-neck white undershirt, he still managed to look expensive. "Everything all right?"

"Hi, Hae. Everything's fine." Seunghyun squeezed my hand. "Enjoy your lunch and don't worry."

He could say that because he didn't know better.

And I didn't know whether or not he'd still want me once he did.

Hae faced me as Seunghyun walked away. "Worry about what? What's wrong?"

"Everything." I sighed. "Let's get out of here, and I'll tell you over lunch."

"Well," Hae murmured, looking at the link I'd forwarded from my smartphone to his. "That's some kiss. The dip was a great touch. He couldn't look more into if he tried."

"That's the thing." I took another big gulp of water. "He did try."

He shoved his phone into his pocket. "Last week you kept shooting him down for only wanting your vagina. This week he's publicizing that he's in a committed, passionate relationship with you, and you're still unhappy. I'm starting to feel bad for the guy. He can't win for trying."

That stung. "Reporters are going to dig, Hae, and they're going to find dirt. And since it's juicy dirt they're going to splash it all over hell and back, and it's going to embarrass Seunghyun."

"Baby girl." He set his hand over mine. "Stanton buried all that."

Stanton. I straightened. I hadn't thought of my stepfather. He'd see the disaster coming and keep a lid on it because he knew what the revelation would do to my mother. Still..."I'll have to talk to Seunghyun about it. He has a right to be warned."

Just the thought of that conversation made me miserable.

Hae knew how my brain worked. "If you think he's going to cut and run, I think you're wrong. He looks at you like you're the only person in the room."

I poked at my tuna Caesar salad. "He's got a few demons of his own. Nightmares. He's closed himself off, I think, because of whatever's eating at him."

"But he's let you in."

And he'd already shown hints of how possessive he could be about that connection. I accepted that because it was a flaw I shared, but still...

"You're analyzing this to death, Y/N," Hae said. "You're thinking the way he feels about you has to be a fluke or a mistake. Someone like him couldn't really be into you for your big heart and sharp mind, right?"

"My self-esteem isn't that bad," I protested.

He took a sip of his champagne. "Isn't it? So tell me something you think he likes about you that doesn't have to do with sex or codependency."

I thought about it and came up empty, which made me scowl.

"Right," he went on with a nod. "And if Lee is anywhere near as messed up as we are, he's thinking the same thing in reverse, wondering what a hot babe like you sees in a guy like him. You've got money, so what has he got going for him besides being a stud who keeps screwing up?"

Sitting back in my chair, I absorbed everything he'd said. "Hae, I love you madly."

He grinned. "Back atcha, sweets. My advice, for what it's worth? Couples therapy. It's always been my plan to get into it when I find the one I want to settle down with. And try to have fun with him. You've got to have as many good times as bad or it all becomes too painful and too much work."

I reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

"For what?" He shrugged off my gratitude with an elegant wave of his hand. "It's easy to pick apart someone else's life. You know I couldn't get through my rough spots without you."

"Which you don't have any of now," I pointed out, shifting the focus to him. "You're about to be splashed across a Times Square billboard. You won't be my secret any longer. Should we upgrade dinner from pizza to something more worthy of the occasion? How about we haul out that case of Cristal Stanton gave us?"

"Now you're talking."

"Movies? Anything in particular you want to watch?"

"Whatever you want. I wouldn't want to screw with your big-dumb-blow-'em-up movie genius."

I grinned, feeling better as I'd known I would after an hour with Hae. "You'll let me know if I'm too dense to figure out when you and Trey want to be alone."

"Ha! Don't worry about that. Your tempestuous love life is making me feel dull and boring. I could use a hot, sweaty bang with my own stud."

"You just had a maintenance closet romp a couple days ago!"

He sighed. "I'd nearly forgotten. How sad is that?"

"It isn't when your eyes are laughing."

I'd just gotten back to my desk when I checked my smartphone and found a text from Seunghyun letting me know he had fifteen minutes to spare at quarter to three. I nursed a secret rush of anticipation for the next hour and a half, having decided to take Hae's advice and have a little fun. Seunghyun and I would have to wade through the ugliness of my past soon enough, but for now, I could give us both something to smile about.

I texted him just before I left, letting him know I was on my way. Considering the time constraints, we couldn't waste a minute. Seunghyun must have felt the same way, because I found Scott waiting for me at reception when I reached the Lee Industries waiting area. He walked me back after the receptionist buzzed me in.

"How's your day been?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Great so far. Yours?"

I smiled back. "I've had worse."

Seunghyun was on the phone when I entered his office. His tone was clipped and impatient as he told the person on the other end of the line that they should be able to manage the job without him having to oversee it personally.

He held up one finger to me to tell me he'd be another minute. I responded by blowing a big bubble with the gum I was chewing and popping it loudly.

His brows shot up, and he hit the buttons to close the doors and frost the glass wall.

Grinning, I sauntered over to his desk and hopped onto it, curling my fingers around the lip and swinging my legs. He popped the next bubble I blew with a quick jab of his finger. I pouted prettily.

"Deal with it," he said with quiet authority to whoever was on the phone. "It'll be next week before I can get out there and waiting will set us back further. Stop talking. I have something time-sensitive on my desk and you're keeping me away from it. I guarantee that's not improving my disposition. Fix what needs fixing and report back to me tomorrow."

He returned the phone to its cradle with suppressed violence. "Y/N - "

I held up one hand to cut him off and wrapped my gum in a Post-it I took from a dispenser on his desk. "Before you reprimand me, Mr. Lee, I want to say that when we reached an impasse in our merger discussions at the hotel yesterday I shouldn't have walked out. It didn't help to resolve the situation. And I know I didn't react very well to the PR issue with the photo. But still...Even though I've been a naughty secretary, I think I should be given another chance to excel."

His gaze narrowed as he studied me, assessing and reevaluating the situation on the fly. "Did I ask for your opinion on the appropriate action to take, Miss Tramell?"

I shook my head and looked up at him from beneath my lashes. I could see the lingering frustration from his phone call falling away from him, replaced by his growing interest and arousal.

Hopping down from the desk, I sidled closer and smoothed his immaculate tie with both hands. "Can't we work something out? I do possess a wide variety of useful skills."

He caught me by the hips. "Which is one of the many reasons you're the only woman I've ever considered for the position."

Warmth flowed through me at his words. Boldly cupping his cock in my hand, I fondled him through his slacks. "Maybe I should reapply myself to my duties? I could demonstrate some of the ways I'm uniquely qualified to assist you."

Seunghyun hardened with delectable swiftness. "Such initiative, Miss Tramell. But my next meeting is less than ten minutes away. Also, I'm not accustomed to exploring job enrichment opportunities in my office."

I freed the button of his fly and lowered his zipper. With my lips to his jaw, I whispered, "If you think there's anywhere I won't make you come, you'll have to revisit and revise."

"Y/n," he breathed, his eyes hot and tender. He cupped my throat, his thumbs brushing over my jaw. "You're unraveling me. Do you know that? Are you doing it on purpose?"

I reached inside his boxer briefs and wrapped my hands around him, offering up my lips for a kiss. He obliged me, taking my mouth with a fierceness that left me breathless.

"I want you," he growled.

I sank to my knees on the carpeted floor, pulling his pants down enough to give me the access I needed.

He exhaled harshly. "Y/n, what are you - "

My lips flowed over the wide crown. He reached back for the edge of his desk, his hands curling around the lip with white-knuckled force. I held him with both hands and mouthed the plush head, sucking gently. The softness of his skin and his uniquely appealing scent made me moan. I felt the vibration ripple through his entire body and heard a rough sound rumble in his chest.

Seunghyun touched my cheek. "Lick it."

Aroused by the command, I fluttered my tongue across the underside and shivered with delight when he rewarded me with a hot burst of preacum. Fisting the root of him with one hand, I hollowed my cheeks and drew rhythmically, hoping for more.

I wished I had the time to make it last. Drive him crazy...

He made a sound filled with the sweetest agony. "God, Y/n...your mouth. Keep sucking. Like that...hard and deep."

I was so turned on by his pleasure I squirmed. His hands pushed into my bound hair, pulling and tugging at the roots. I loved how he started out with tenderness, then grew rougher as the lust he felt for me overwhelmed his control.

The soft bite of pain made me hungrier, greedier. My head bobbed as I pleasured him, jacking him with one hand while I sucked and stroked the crest with my mouth. Heavy veins coursed the length of his cock, and I slid the flat of my tongue along them, tilting my head to find and caress each one.

He swelled, growing thicker and longer. My knees were uncomfortable, but I didn't care; my gaze was riveted to Seunghyun as his head fell back and he fought for breath.

"Y/n, you suck me so good." He held my head still and took over. Thrusting his hips. Fucking my mouth. Stripped to a level of base need where only the race to orgasm mattered.

The thought made me crazed, the image in my mind of how we must look: Seunghyun in all his urbane sophistication, standing at the desk where he ruled an empire, stroking his big cock in and out of my greedy mouth.

I gripped his straining thighs in both hands, frantically working my lips and tongue, desperate for his climax. His balls were heavy and big, an audacious display of his powerful virility. I cupped them, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten and draw up.

"Ah, Y/N." His voice was a guttural rasp. His grip tightened in my hair. "You're making me come."

The first spurt of seman was so thick, I struggled to swallow. Mindless in his pleasure, Seunghyun was thrusting against the back of my throat, his cock throbbing with every wrenching pulse into my mouth. My eyes watered and my lungs burned, but still I pumped my fists, milking him. His entire body shuddered as I took everything he had. The sounds he made and the muttered, breathless praise were the most gratifying I'd ever heard.

I licked him clean, marveling at how he didn't fully soften even after an explosive orgasm. He was still capable of fucking me senseless and more than willing to, I knew. But there was no time and I was happy about that. I wanted to do this for him. For us. For me, really, because I needed to know I could indulge in a selfless sexual act without feeling taken advantage of.

"I have to go," I murmured, standing and pressing my lips to his. "I hope the rest of your day is awesome, and your business dinner tonight, too."

I started to move away, but he caught my wrist, his gaze on the clock readout on his desk phone. I noticed my picture then, sitting in a place of prominence where he'd see it all day.

"Y/N...Damn it. Wait."

I frowned at his tone, which sounded anxious. Frustrated.

He quickly restored his appearance, tucking himself back into his boxer briefs and straightening the tail of his shirt so he could fasten his pants. There was something sweet in watching him pull himself back together, restoring the façade he wore for the world while I knew at least a little of the man beneath it.

Tugging me close, Seunghyun pressed his lips to my brow. His hands moved through my hair to unclip my tortoise barrette. "I didn't get you off."

"No need." I loved the feel of his hands on my scalp. "That rocked just the way it was."

He was overly focused on fixing my hair, his cheeks flushed from his orgasm. "I know you need an even exchange," he argued gruffly. "I can't let you leave feeling like I used you."

A bittersweet tenderness pierced me. He'd listened. He cared.

I cupped his face in my hands. "You did use me, with my permission, and it was seriously hot. I wanted to give you this, Seunghyun . Remember? I warned you. I wanted you to have this memory of me."

His eyes widened with alarm. "Why the fuck do I need memories when I have you? Y/N, if this is about the photo - "

"Shut up and enjoy the high." We didn't have the time to get into the photo issue now and I didn't want to. It was going to ruin everything. "If we'd had an hour, I still wouldn't let you get me off. I'm not keeping score with you, ace. And honestly, you're the first guy I can say that to. Now, I have to go. You have to go."

I started away again, but he caught me back.

Scott's voice came through the speaker. "Excuse me, Mr. Lee. But your three o'clock is here."

"It's okay, Seunghyun," I assured him. "You're coming over tonight, right?"

"Nothing could keep me away."

I shoved up onto my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "We'll talk then."

After work, I took the stairs down to the ground floor to feel less guilty about skipping the gym and seriously regretted it by the time I reached the lobby. Lack of sleep from the night before had left me wiped out. I was contemplating taking the subway rather than walking when I saw Seunghyun's Bentley at the curb. When the driver got out and greeted me by name, I halted abruptly, surprised.

"Mr. Lee asked that I take you home," he said, looking smart in his black suit and chauffeur hat. He was an older gentleman with graying red hair, pale blue eyes, and the softest of cultured accents.

As much as my legs ached, I was grateful for the offer. "Thank you...? I'm sorry - what was your name?"

"Angus, Miss Tramell."

How had I not remembered that? The name was so cool, it made me smile. "Thank you, Angus."

He tipped his hat. "My pleasure."

I slid through the back door he opened for me and as I settled into the seat, I caught a glimpse of the handgun he wore in a shoulder holster beneath his jacket. It appeared that Angus, like Clancy, was both bodyguard and driver.

We pulled away from the curb and I asked, "How long have you been working for Mr. Lee, Angus?"

"Eight years now."

"Quite a while."

"I've known him longer than that," he volunteered, catching my gaze in the rearview mirror. "I drove him to school when he was a boy. He hired me away from Mr. Vidal when the time came."

Once again, I tried to picture Seunghyun as a child. No doubt he'd been beautiful and charismatic even then.

Had he enjoyed "normal" sexual relationships when he was a teenager? I couldn't imagine that women weren't throwing themselves at him even then. And as innately sexual as he was, I imagined he'd been a horny teen.

Digging in my purse, I pulled out my keys and leaned forward to set them on the front passenger seat. "Can you see that Seunghyun gets those? He's supposed to come over after whatever it is he's doing tonight and depending on how late that is, I might not hear him knock."

"Of course."

Paul opened the door for me when we arrived at my apartment and he greeted Angus by name, reminding me that Seunghyun owned the building. I waved to both men, told the front desk Seunghyun would be coming over later, and then took myself upstairs. Hae's raised brows when he opened the door to me made me laugh.

"Seunghyun's coming over later," I explained, "but I'm feeling so hammered right now I may not stay up long. So I gave him my keys to let himself in. Did you order already?"

"I did. And I tossed a few bottles of Cristal in the wine fridge."

"You're the best." I shoved my bag at him.

I showered and called my mom from the phone in my room, wincing at her strident, "I have been trying to reach you for days!"

"Mom, if it's about Lee Seunghyun - "

"Well, of course, it's partly about him! For goodness' sake, Y/N. You're being called the significant woman in his life. How could I not want to talk about that?"

"Mom - "

"But there's also the appointment you asked me to make with Dr. Petersen." The note of smug amusement in her voice made me smile. "We're scheduled to meet with him Thursday at six o'clock in the evening. I hope that works for you. He doesn't do many evening appointments."

I plopped backward onto my bed with a sigh. I'd been so distracted by work and Seunghyun that the appointment had slipped my mind. "Thursday at six will be fine. Thank you."

"Now, then. Tell me about Lee..."

When I emerged from my bedroom dressed in jersey pants and a San Diego State University sweatshirt, I found Trey seated with Hae in the living room. Both men stood when I came in and Trey gifted me with an open, friendly smile.

"I'm sorry I look so ragged," I said sheepishly, running my fingers through my damp ponytail. "Taking the stairs at work almost killed me today."

"Elevator take the day off?" he asked.

"Nope. My brain did. What the hell was I thinking?" Spending the night with Seunghyun was enough of a workout.

The doorbell rang and Hae went to get it while I headed into the kitchen for the Cristal. I joined him at the breakfast bar as he signed the credit card receipt and the look in his eyes when he glanced at Trey had me hiding a smile.

There were a lot of those looks going back and forth between the two men as the evening progressed. And I had to agree with Hae that Trey was a hottie. Dressed in distressed jeans, matching vest, and a long-sleeved shirt, the aspiring veterinarian looked casual but well put together. He was very different personality-wise from the type of guy Hae usually dated. Trey seemed more grounded; not quite somber, but definitely not flighty. I thought he'd be a good influence on Hae, if they stayed together long enough.

The three of us made it through two bottles of Cristal and two pizzas between us, plus all of Demolition Man before I called it a night. I urged Trey to stay for Driven to round out the Stallone mini-marathon; then I went to my room and changed into a sexy black baby doll I'd been given as part of a bridesmaid gift bag - sans the matching panties.

Leaving a candle burning for Seunghyun , I crashed.

I woke to darkness and the scent of Seunghyun 's skin, the lights and sounds of the city shut out by soundproofed windows and blackout drapes.

Seunghyun slid over me, a moving shadow, his bare skin cool to the touch. His mouth slanted over mine, kissing me slow and deeply, tasting of mint and his own unique flavor. My hands slid down his sleekly muscular back, my legs parting so he could settle comfortably between them. The weight of him against me made my heart sigh and my blood warm with desire.

"Well, hello to you, too," I said breathlessly when he let me up for air.

"You'll come with me next time," he murmured in that sexy and decadent voice, nibbling at my throat.

"Will I?" I teased.

He reached down and cupped my butt in his hand, squeezing and lifting me into a deft roll of his hips. "Yes. I missed you, Y/N."

I ran my fingers through his hair, wishing I could see him. "You haven't known me long enough to miss me."

"Shows how much you know," Seunghyun scoffed, sliding downward and nuzzling between my breasts.

I gasped as his mouth covered my nipple and sucked through the satin, deep pulls that echoed in the clenching of my core. He moved to my other breast, his hand pushing up the hem of my baby doll. I arched into him, lost to the magic of his mouth as it moved over my body, his tongue dipping into my navel, then sliding lower.

"And you missed me, too," he purred with masculine satisfaction, the tip of his middle finger rimming my cleft. "You're swollen and wet for me."

He pulled my legs over his shoulders and licked between my folds, soft and provocative laps of hot velvet against my sensitive flesh. My hands fisted in the sheet, my chest heaving as he circled my cl*t with the tip of his tongue, then nudged the hypersensitive knot of nerves. I keened, my h*ps moving restlessly into the devious torment, my muscles tightening with the clawing need to come.

The light, teasing flutters were driving me insane, giving me just enough to make me writhe but not enough to get me off. " Seunghyun , please."

"Not yet."

He tortured me, coaxing my body to the brink of orgasm, and then letting me slide back down. Over and over. Until sweat misted my skin and my heart felt like it would burst. His tongue was tireless and diabolical, cleverly focusing on my cl*t until a single stroke would set me off, then moving lower to thrust into me. The soft, shallow plunges were maddening, the flickering against the nerve-laden tissues making me desperate enough to beg shamelessly.

"Please, Seunghyun ...let me come...I need to come, please."

"Shh, angel...I'll take care of you."

He finished me with a tenderness that made the orgasm roll through me like a crashing wave, building and swelling and spreading through me in a warm rush of pleasure.

He threaded his fingers with mine when he came over me again, restraining my arms. The head of his cock aligned with the slick entrance of my body and he pushed inexorably into me. I moaned, shifting to accommodate the heavy surge of his penis.

Seunghyun's breath gusted hard and humid against my throat, his big frame trembling as he slid carefully inside me. "You're so soft and warm. Mine, Y/N. You're mine."

I wrapped my legs around his hips, welcoming him deeper, feeling his buttocks flex and release against my calves as he demonstrated to my body that it would indeed take his thick length all the way to the root.

With our hands linked, he took my mouth and began to move, gliding in and out with languid skill, the tempo precise and relentless yet smooth and easy. I felt every rock-hard inch of him, felt the unmistakable reiteration that every inch of me was his to possess. He drove the message home repeatedly until I was gasping against his mouth, thrashing restlessly beneath him, my hands bloodless from the strength of my grip on his.

He spoke heated praise and encouragement, telling me how beautiful I was...how perfect I felt to him...how he'd never stop...couldn't stop. I came with a sharp cry of relief, vibrating with the ecstasy of it, and he was right there with me. His pace quickened for several slamming thrusts; then he climaxed with a hiss of my name, spilling into me.

I sank lax into the mattress, sweaty and boneless and replete.

"I'm not done," he whispered darkly, adjusting his knees to increase the force of his thrusts. The pace remained expertly measured, each plunge staking a claim - your body exists to serve me.

Biting my lip, I fought back the sounds of helpless pleasure that might've broken the tranquility of the night...and betrayed the frightening depths of emotion I was beginning to feel for Lee Seunghyun.

[ourlittleorganiclife]

There’s no better way to get excited about your upcoming summer holiday than by going shopping for all your beach essentials.  Even the most eco-conscious of us aren’t immune to this pleasure, but some of us – quite rightly – temper that excitement with our concern for the environment and the health of ourselves and our children. So here’s some greener and healthier ways to join in with the summer joy of planning for your beach holiday.

Sun Protection

Sun protection of one kind or another is so important, especially for children.  Getting just 5 blistering sunburns can increase your risk of skin cancer by up to 80%. So make sure you have a variety of ways to protect your skin.  Many drugstore sunscreens are full of parabens, oxybenzone and other chemicals linked to various types of hormone-disrupting cancers. But there’s no need to worry – there are plenty of options open to you. You can wear a beach cover up which covers the arms and chest well – and there are plenty of good second hand ones about, like this one which I’ve featured from the Oxfam online shop (click here to check out their full range of colours and options).

You should also invest in a good ocean-safe, reef-safe SPF sun cream each summer.  Some people make their own suncreams with coconut oil and essential oils, and if that’s your thing, go for it, but be aware there’s always the risk that you end up making a basting oil for your skin rather than a sun protectant.  While many oils and essential oils do have a natural SPF quality to them, there is no way you can guarantee that level of protection is still in the base ingredient product you’ve purchased without expensive testing. Instead, buy a non-nano, paraben-free, oxybenzone-free sun protection product which is as natural as possible. Suncreams like this new one from Weleda which I purchased at my local health food store last week are a great option.

If Weleda is difficult to find in your area, consider the Thinkbaby and Thinksport sunscreens which I tried out on two separate occasions earlier this summer when visiting friends and I had to borrow some sun protection.  Thinksport do SPF 50 creams, but also a great SPF 30 face and body stick which is easy to apply to your face – kind of like a mini deodorant stick.  It’s a clean range of products which is easy to find in Canada, the US and the UK, and it’s been designed for serious athletes – so it will definitely be able to withstand your beach holiday demands! Plan ahead and make sure you have enough for your trip – you don’t want to end up like I did on my trip to Italy, having to buy horrible overpriced chemical-filled sunscreen at the pharmacy (you don’t want to know how much sun protection costs in Europe).

For kids I also recommend getting UPF 50 sun protection suits for the beach. When paired with a good wide-brimmed hat, it means you don’t have to worry about when they spend a bit too long in the sunshine – as they inevitably will.  I do buy these suits and shirts second hand for my daughter but do keep in mind that the sun protection factor in second hand suits might not be as high as it will be in a new suit.

Swimwear

You can get some great bathing suits and bikinis second hand like these ones at the Oxfam online shop (just give them a good boil wash after buying them). I’m a bit busty, however, so have never had luck finding second hand bikini tops that fit me.  In fact, finding any gorgeous bikini tops that will fit over a D cup is actually quite difficult. I was gifted this beautiful black Boho Chic bikini from Hunkemoeller (I saw their gorgeous lingerie and swimwear boutiques all over Germany last month). It fits me so well – in fact this model ran a bit on the generous size, so I had return my first bikini top (thank you free returns!) and go a cup size smaller than my usual Panache bra cup size which looks amazing on me.  It ties at the top and the back , so you don’t need to worry about whether the band will be too tight or too loose, and the metal U bar in the front, allows the front of the bra to open easily for topless sunbathing (or easy breastfeeding, if you’re still nursing your child). They also had a variety of styles of bikini bottoms, so I was able to find the right cut to suit my derrière. (That’s not me below, btw!)

After Sun

Don’t overthink this one.  Buy some pure organic aloe gel (like this one from Amazon which comes in a handy 200ml size).  Avoid those livid green and totally transparent Aloe-based concoctions you see at the supermarket and pharmacy – they have a lot of other stuff in them other than healing aloe. You can mix the aloe gel with a few drops of a good quality lavender essential oil (I use Young Living – see why here) to boost the skin soothing quality of the aloe. If you do get a bit too much sun, just rub in some of this into your skin and it will help cool you off and start to nourish your sun-damaged skin. Just keep reapplying as your skin sucks it in (and it will, depending on the severity of the burn).

Beach Bag

Don’t forget a beach bag to schlep around all your stuff. You don’t need to invest in something really expensive – if you’re travelling on your own or with your partner, a small canvas shopping tote will work. If you’re travelling with kids the best thing are those big tacky re-usable supermarket bags which are fantastic for this purpose because they’re waterproof and hold tons of stuff like flippers, goggles, snorkels, sand-encrusted swim shoes, gazillions of towels, etc.

But I know that if you’re going back and forth to the beach club, you might want something a bit more chic than a massive orange Sainsbury’s bag proudly branding it’s elephant design emblazoned on the side. I’ve decided to splurge and treat myself to this black & white one from Hunkemoller UK to match my new bikini. It reminded me of some of the gorgeous bags I’ve seen in Anthropologie.  (I remember the days of disposable income. They’re long gone, but I do remember them!)

Sunglasses

For Pete’s sake, don’t forget a pair of sunglasses or you’ll be squinting in agony for the next two weeks. On my way back from Canada in June, I treated myself to a new pair of Oakley matte tortoiseshell Latch sunglasses. (Yeah, I’ve given myself a few treats lately – what’s up with that?) I had been planning to get the folding Ray Ban Wayfarers, but discovered that they come in a leather case, which kind of didn’t flow with the whole vegan vibe.

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Water Bottle

It’s pretty easy most places to access clean drinking water, so unless you’re travelling somewhere at particular risk for waterborne pathogens, just take your water bottle with you and for each member of your family so you can stay hydrated throughout the day.  Even if you go to a resort, its great having your own reusable cup bottle with you, so you can have the bar staff refill it with water for you from their filtered water systems.  I love my Yeti bottle because I can attach it to my bag with a carabiner – and yes, I bought it second hand.

It’s also a great idea to take a reusable coffee cup (like a Keep Cup) or an insulated wine tumbler (yes, there is such a thing) so you don’t have to use plastic cups for your wine or cocktails, and they’ll stay cooler for longer in the sun. (Amazon have a wide range of insulated wine tumblers at various price points, and Yeti do a cool one too).

Sun Hat

Sun hats are such a personal thing, I’m not even going to show you an example here.  I have a great soft brushed cotton baseball cap I love from ethical clothing company Absolutely Bear which I wear for day trips and hiking all the time, but I probably won’t wear it on the beach on my trip to Spain, as I might want something which channels a bit more of a Sophia Loren vibe.  But whatever suits your style.

One thing I will say is, just take a sun hat.  Something foldable might be wise, so you can pack it in your luggage.  I have a gorgeous Panama style hat which I love, but it isn’t the easiest to travel with because I have to wear it for the whole flight, or make sure it doesn’t get crunched up in the overhead luggage compartment.

Sun hats are such a great and easy way to keep the sun off your face without worrying about whether your SPF cream has worn off and panda eyes are developing.  And as the (not so) proud wearer of many, many panda eyes in the past, may I say I have expert knowledge that it is worth avoiding.   (No make up will really cover those puppies up.) Just wear the hat.

Reading Material

It’s really important to have enough reading material on your trip.  On shorter trips I’ll usually just take a library book, but I also have started to enjoy borrowing my husband’s Kindle and I absolutely love Amazon Audible, so I can listen to audio books on my phone while on the plane and so I can keep an eye on my daughter on the beach. (Getting lost in a book isn’t really possible when you’re looking after children near the sea, lakes or the pool.) Here’s the link I used to get a free 90 day trial of Audible so you can see if it’s the kind of thing you would enjoy too – at the very least it will last you your holiday! They’re often read by the author or by someone with a delicious reading voice, like Mariella Frostrup. I recently listened to Swing Time by Zadie Smith and can highly recommend it.

And have a great holiday!  For more tips, check out my posts on eco travel, how to pack light and travelling with kids. Have I forgotten anything?  Let me know in the comments below.

Resources/References:

Sun Protection – https://www.nhs.uk/news/cancer/just-five-sunburns-increase-your-cancer-risk/, https://edition.cnn.com/2012/05/16/health/sunscreen-report/index.html

Photo Credit: Hunkemoeller bikini shot – from https://www.hunkemoller.co.uk/uk_en/47-boho-chic-bikini-bottoms-black-123295.html, Hunkemoeller beach bag shot – from https://www.hunkemoller.co.uk/uk_en/47-doutzen-beach-bag-black-134253.html

      Beach holiday essentials for the green, eco-conscious traveller. There's no better way to get excited about your upcoming summer holiday than by going shopping for all your beach essentials.