#i have a stupid ethics meeting which like okay i get

[caninecowboy]

good morning it is before 9am and i am on my way to school. please send help i do not want to be here.

[byrdstrolls]

Ethic

“Isn’t it weird tho. Like all reservations aside. All precognitions on tarot and it’s validity reserved. Just- in and of itself, don’t you think it’s weird that every reading I do about this I always get these exact cards in this exact order?” Nesseo exhales. 

You are blinking tiredly at your computer screen across the dining table. 

“I don’t know. Shit. I’d probably just say you’re not shuffling them correctly.” You huff, glancing back at your sibling. 

“I know I’m-” Nesseo snaps back, stopping abruptly, swallowing their frustration. “I’ve been” They say, coating the word with emphasis- “Shuffling. You know I didn’t believe in this shit to begin with either. I just. Can you admit that it’s weird?” 

“Okay” You say, pushing up your glasses. “It’s weird.” 

“Yeah” They reply. “It’s weird.” 

There is then a wanting pause, as if they needed more in the response than that, some expectation had gone unspoken. Nesseo stares at you for a long moment, before raising their eyebrows pointedly, a mimed and silent ‘and…?’ to add to their sentence. 

“Ness” You say, frustrated. “If you have a fucking, non tarot based complaint I’d love to hear it.” 

“What is the probability of this, even? If the universe wanted to beat us over the head with an omen-” 

“How many cards are in that deck?” You prompt. 

“Seventy eight.” They reply. 

You stuff some numbers into your computer’s calculator, just because you can.

“Then in a three card spread, if shuffled properly, there is a 1/474,552 possibility that you get those three cards in that order.” You say. 

“See! One in nearly five thousand, that's weird” They insist. 

“But. But Nesseo, it's not necessarily any more or less unlikely than any other fucking three card spread in existence. Which is also 1/474,552” You say, peering into your coffee, finding it empty.

“If Mondes came to you. With an obvious ill omen. Would you listen to him?” Ness accuses. 

“No.” You retort. “Because I make my decisions based on facts.” 

“Yeah right” They mutter to their cards as they shuffle. “You wouldn’t say it like that.” They whisper aside. 

You close your laptop lid. Some part of you is passingly aware of how tired you are, that you stayed up late last day looking twice over through the fleet files, that it’s the gentle toxic touch of a headache pounding near your sinuses you’re angry with, and not your younger sibling, but not aware enough to cut this conversation short when it was so unceremoniously handed off to you. 

“I’m sorry.” You say. “Do you have a fucking problem you’d like to speak a little louder on?” 

“I don’t know Hanagi.” Nesseo says. “Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I am stupid.” 

“I didn’t say that-” You interject, but they continue as if they haven’t heard you. 

“The guy at my AA meetings was like, ‘Nesseo, you should get a hobby’ So I did. But now that I’m actually good at the tarot cards, everyone's like shut up Nesseo, get a reallll hobby, you’re so cringe with those things showing obvious signs of mental illness. You’re so annoying now we prefered you when you were-” 

“Don’t say that” You reply gently, sensing the end of the sentence. “I’m happy you’re having fun, Ness, really, but I'm not gonna suddenly integrate cards based decision making into my belief system because of it.” 

“Five times” They hiss. “Five times, I got this exact spread.”

“I’m glad you’re sober, and you’re finding fucking, new ways to spend your time, really. But I think you’re taking this a little too seriously.” 

“Yeah, one sweep sober. The six perigee chip, the sweep chip- they’re running out of awards to give me. I’d like to thank my lusus and the academy.” They mumble.

You sit still at the table, staring, as you often are, unsure of what to say, how to bridge the gap of the wealth that you do not and can not understand. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You say quietly. “Everyones still really proud of you.” 

“‘Still’” They say, rolling closer to you. “Is that a threat?” They retort. 

“No!” You snap back. 

“I thought…” They trail off, their gaze trapped at a fixed point on the wall. 

“...What?” You prompt. 

“I thought if I was sober you guys would treat me different.” They say, so quietly you almost can’t hear. 

“Ness” You say softly. 

“This thing. It’ll fail” They say. 

“No Ness,” You stutter, your panic really starting to set in. “Your sobriety is not going to fail-” 

“Not my sobriety Hanagi! This!” They say, gesturing at your laptop. “This whole, stupid heist! It’s gonna go ass backwards in a way that fucks up our family even more. All I see. Every reading I do.” 

“We don’t know that-” You defend.

“Yes, we do.” They retort. “Hanagi” They say, voice layered and gruff in a manner not typical of the floaty, ethereal way Nesseo often spoke, They turn away. “I get that like, you weren’t there for the worst of it, okay? When me and Mondes were on the run. You were in space. But it was bad. It was bad bad. I couldn’t tell days apart.” They say, the voice they’re muttering in wavering.  

“I still don’t remember a lot of it. And if you wrap up our family in something that puts me in that position again. I will never forgive you. You can’t dive headfirst into shit that’s gonna make us wanted by the government again and then act like you give a shit about my SOBRIETY.” They snap. 

You shrink under their gaze. 

“I- okay, Ness, you know, if you wanted fucking out you could have just said so. We can find someplace for you.” 

“I don’t want out, I want everyone out, Hanagi. NONE of you should be doing this. Not Mondes, who is trying so hard to act like he doesn’t care about reliving all his shit from his childhood. Not Bee, who is trying to build a life on foundations so fragile they threaten to shatter at any moment. And not YOU, who-” 

“Who what?” You snap. 

They stare at you, a gaze unforgiving in its totality and singularity of emotion. “Who works too much. And needs to give yourself time to process what happened with Dulkyu” They say. 

You are so blindsighted by this you nearly physically stumble. 

“It’s been nearly two sweeps” You mutter, since you and the other eldest Cheong cut ties. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve stopped to breathe since” Nesseo dares. And you don’t answer. Because you can’t. Maybe it's not the cards Nesseo is good at. Maybe its people they can pick up and read through, a quick and complete vision all consuming in its scrutiny. 

“Through everything- Daseos, the prison break, Bee- I have been on your side.” Ness pleads. “I backed you even when you were wrong. Just this once, I’m saying don’t do it. Hanagi. Please.” 

“You didn’t see what I saw” You snap back. “In those fucking files. I have a duty to the world as a doctor.” The words feel weak and paper thin in the face of Nesseo’s plea, but you believe them with your whole heart. You took an oath to heal, and you can’t pass the horror’s you’ve seen by. It's easier to stay up late, chipping away at hacking and planning and busywork on your computer than to lay in bed staring at the unforgiving darkness of the ceiling as images from Faeria’s Longse’s medical files play on loop just behind your eyes. 

“Fine” They spit out, “Fine!” They say, preparing to bargain. “If you have to do it, fine. But leave Bee and Mondes out of it. They’re not ready for this.”

“Bee and Mondes” You say slowly. “Are grown adults. Who made their own decisions, based on the same information I had. This” You say, “is not about us, Nesseo” You continue gesturing. “It’s about saving countless lives.”

“Well it's us,” They insist, pointing at the cards on the table. “That are gonna get fucked over.” 

You stare down at the spread they keep trying to explain to you, at Nesseo’s vandalized tarot cards that it’s still so hard to take seriously. 

In one motion, you sweep them off the table. 

“Futures not here yet” You declare, storming off. 

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Several hours later, you are sitting at the kitchen table, arms wrapped around your head. When Mondes comes in from his afternoon class, he does so nearly silently. You only notice the slight melodic jingle as he hangs up his keys, the quiet setting down of his bag on the table. He heads straight for the kitchen, probably hungry from a long day of classes. You are certain he notices your distraught demeanor, but he does not comment on it. Instead saying simply and effectively-

“Hi.”

“Hi” You groan, hearing him open up the fridge behind you. Finally, you pull your face out of your arms, squinting in the afternoon light. You had taken off your glasses, it had been more comfortable moping without them, and everything is blurry. 

“I think I was a total bitch to Nesseo this morning” You say. 

“Yeah” Mondes says, washing some vegetables in the sink. “I heard.” 

“Add it to the list of my-” You were going to say crimes, but you feel a sudden wave of shame overtake you, drowning the word. “Are you also mad at me” 

“No.” He says. “But it sure took you a while to ask me that.” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” You say, your fingers finally finding their way to your glasses, which you put on your face.

“That you never ask me that.” He says. 

“Elaborate.” You request. 

Mondes is silent for a long moment, the only sound in the kitchen the quiet thuds of his knife against the cutting board. 

“I miss you, Hanagi,” He says. 

You swivel your chair around to stare at him, processing his statement. 

“You don’t get to fucking- say that!” You stumble, frustrated. “You don’t get to give me the cold shoulder for perigees and then be like ‘I miss you’”

“Well I can,” He says. “And I did. And it’s true.” 

“Fuck you” You retort. There is a silence, as he continues chopping, the two of you both daring each other to be the first to apologize, and your ego crumbles first.

“I’m sorry.” You say. “I put you in a difficult situation. With Bee.” 

“I don’t even give a fuck anymore” He says. “But why. Did we not just, have this conversation sooner, instead of you just, assuming I was still mad, avoiding the subject, for perigees.” 

“I don’t know, you’d just be like, ‘why the fuck did we bring back Bee’ and I wouldn’t know what to say, like what the fuck could I do, kill her again?” You defend. 

“Why didn’t we talk about it,” He pleads. “instead of you having that conversation in your own head and deciding it finished.” He says, turning around, setting down the knife. “I don’t know. I feel like, you act like I’m a lot more angry and demanding of a person, than I actually am.” He accuses. “Talking about shit doesn’t have to be a huge fight. I know that's what you’re used to, " he says. “Everyone in this family comes into any kind of emotional talk with their hackles already raised. I’ve seen it. And I think I understand why. With the whole. Having a sister who was a telepath and a control freak and a manipulator. But it's just exhausting. When anytime things get serious, everyone is already on the defensive the moment a conversation even starts. You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Hanagi.” 

Why pay for a therapist? When everyone around you seems so sure, they know everything that's going on with you already, your thinkpan monologues, instinctively, but you don't say the words out loud, because you’d just be fulfilling his prophecy. 

“I’m sorry” You say. “I’m working on it” 

“I know,” He says, turning back to his cutting board, firing up the stove. “I’m not mad about Bee anymore. I get it more.” 

“Get what?” You ask, you back straightening. 

“That she really was. You know. Sick.” He says. “And I guess she’s tolerable enough now. So I’m over it.” He says, dumping his peppers and onions into the frying pan. 

“Tolerable enough. High praise.” You joke. 

“Don’t tell her I said that” he jokes back. “I like to keep her on her toes.” 

“My lips are sealed.” You say, staring at him, unable to believe that’s it, the problem you had agonized over for months could be so easily tossed aside by him. A knot inside your ribcage you thought would never come loose slips apart so gently and smoothly it almost gives you whiplash, and you feel a little lightheaded. Disoriented, like walking out of a movie theater into the evening light. 

“Yeah I” You say, your voice wavering in the evening light. “I really fucking missed you, too” You admit. 

The moment is almost subtle enough to miss, but you swear his shoulders ease a little too at this declaration. 

“Ness will come around” He says, turning down the burner. 

“You think?” You reply, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Yeah,” He says. “Besides, there aren’t really bad tarot cards.”

“How do you mean?” You ask.

“I’m not, an expert…” He trails off. “But from what little I know about divination, it’s not supposed to be… literal. Death doesn’t just mean someone will die. It means change. It can mean the death of a concept, the passing of time, all kinds of shit.” 

“Could be Faeria dying” You offer. 

“Yeah.” 

“It comforts me” You say. “That you’re not worried. Knowing you’re also like…fucking,  superstitious.” 

“Oh I’m worried.” He says. “It’s just kind of old hat, for me, to be honest. I get ill omens wherever I go and whatever I do. If I died everytime I got a death omen I’d be the worlds most fucked up zombie. Might as well relax and not base every decision I make on that fear.” He rambles. 

“Wh- this happens to you that often?” You say, curious about how casually Mondes refers to such a thing. 

“Sometimes” He says, suddenly mildly abrasive, the word feels like a door stopper putting an end to the middle of the conversation. “You want sauteed veggies?” He asks.

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It can be so comforting how much weight she’s gained, because in moments like these, when the lights are dim and she’s sitting on the bed you share, leafing through papers with a paused quizzical expression, like she’s caught in the tail end of a thought, things look so much like the two of you are back in space again you stiffen. But then you pause, blinking, half awake, only for your breath to ease as you trace the rounder shapes of her cheeks, the comfortable pajama’s she wears, patterned over with isopods, the long cold cup of tea she’s forgotten on the nightstand, pleasures and decadences you would have killed for on that tiny ship. She is the same troll, from the way she dog ears her papers to how she color codes her highlighting, how she sits cross legged and the handwriting in her notes, but in no way is she recognizable as that skeleton that used to haunt you. You sigh, setting down your bag. She gathers up some of her papers, making room for you to sit. 

“Okay” She says. “I also have a weird pitch.” 

“Cryogenics wasn’t weird.” You retort. “It made perfect sense.” 

“Getting Abby,” She says slowly. “And freezing them, so they can’t die in the process of the complex surgery we’ll need to give them to disengage and replace their complicated prosthetics- Arguably weird.” She justifies. 

“It’s the only sensible way to do it” You reply, looking through some of the papers she has about. 

“I know… it’s probably the only way to do it. I just.” She sighs. “It’s weird. To make that decision for Abidel without them knowing. I can’t imagine them saying no. But it feels gross. Not being able to tell them til the literal moment we’re there.” 

“Any communication could put us in jeopardy.” You reply. “But yeah, it sucks and feels like shit.” You concede, sighing. “Like congratulations! You’re free! Now you get to go cryosleep in a lead box until we’re absolutely fucking sure we’ve gotten every single fleet bit out of your body. Not winning any ethics awards for that one. But go on. What’s the new weird pitch?” 

Bee bites her lip, leafing through her papers. 

“Oh, now you’re shy?” You tease, peering over her shoulder. 

“It’s got poetic irony” She says of her plan, before she explains it. 

“I kind of don’t give a shit about poetic irony” You say. “In my heist.” 

“Hear me out-” She begins. “We poison Abidel’s blood.” 

You stare at her. 

“Listen! Not in a way that hurts or kills them. I just. Okay. With The Intoxicant, right? She’s an obsessed megalomaniac. She’s put sweeps of time and fleet funding into this. We free Abby- the only source for the chemical she needs for her pssionic cocaine- she’ll never stop looking for them. Unless. UNLESS.” She pauses to breathe. “Abidel’s blood is unusable. And The Intoxicant, wouldn’t you know it, has a ton of scientific research into how to make people more poisonous.” 

“...I see” You say. “The poetic irony.” 

“Right?”

“I don’t know Bee, it sounds dangerous. And kind of insane.” 

“We ask! We can ask. We can offer, right? If they say no they say no.” She says. 

“I just.” You say, putting your head in your hands. “Fucking, shit, dude. We shouldn’t have to do this shit.” 

“If we can make Abidel useless to Longse” She says. “Then they don’t have to spend the rest of their free life looking over their shoulder.” She says, and then deflates a little, looking back to her paper. “But you know. It’s a weird pitch. We don’t have too. Just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. You said we want backups for our backups for our backups. This is backups upon backups.” 

“It's just kind of deranged” You retort. “Kind of Twitch Demork brained idea. Out of left field, ridiculous, morally questionable, self sacrificing” You rant, standing up and walking back and forth. 

“Yeah, kind of like, unceremonious and unexpected. Like, I don’t know.” She rambles, sarcastically. “Blowing up a prison to lock the security inside it.” 

“Fuck you” You say to the wall. “Fuck you,” you repeat, turning around and walking back over. “Show me what study you’re reading.” You say, snatching the paper from her hands.

[captainhunnicutt]

I hate the episode “Hanky Panky.” Hate it. And not because my boy is at his absolute worst (relatively speaking, he gets worse later in the series and I love him for it - I will die on this hill). I hate it because it’s done in such a way that screams “the viewer is stupid and we need to hold their hand through it.”

The episode literally starts out reminding us of how committed BJ is, and how much of a "family man," he is. Incase we had forgotten - because otherwise this plotline would fall even flatter than it does.

It immediately puts you on alert. "Uh oh. BJ is gonna do something stupid, isn't he?" And you immediately realize it's with Carrie - WHO WE HAVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE - and now you're just waiting and hoping BJ doesn't fuck up.

Maybe if we had seen some sort of introduction to Carrie an episode or two before, "Hanky Panky" would achieve what it's after. Shock. The realization that BJ isn't this perfect golden boy who won't be impacted being thousands of miles away in a war zone. But we don't. We meet her 1 minute and 26 seconds prior to the conversation with BJ and Hawkeye. That's it.

I joke a lot about the lightning of this episode, but for real it's just so infuriating as an intelligent and capable viewer. I'll couple it with the close up shots because they ultimately go hand in hand.

That soft lighting in Post-Op is the thing I hate the most about this episode - particularly the soft lighting behind BJ. It's a totally different angle than we're used to seeing of people talking in Post-Op and it just screams "Viewer!! Look!!! BJ looks attractive and charming and approachable!! Remember this!!!" And Carrie (I love her by the way), looks angelic and perfect and like some damsel in distress.

Then the scene in Carrie's tent. The lighting and shots start out just fine. Absolutely normal - and then right when they start to pull away from the hug the coloring and lighting does a blatant shift. It even goes as far as the cliche fade to black to allude to they idea of them sleeping together. VIEWER!! YOUR GOLDEN BOY, THE FAMILY MAN, MADE A BIG OOPSIE!!!

And then finally, the talk outside of Post-Op? Goodness. Obviously we're supposed to sympathize with Beej here. He's lit more behind, his hair has an angelic glow, we're looking at him head on - Carrie is barely lit behind, and the camera angle is looking down at her the entire time. The message becomes clear: "BJ fucked up but it's okay because it's BJ and you'll forgive him and move on, viewer. We just wanted to show you he's not so perfect!!!"

And unfortunately the writers were right. We all completely disregard how shitty BJ is about the entire situation. We all completely ignore that he gets "an enormous attack of the guilts" that he blatantly ignores her and is a "bear," to her whenever around. We all completely pretend like he doesn't admit OUT LOUD that he's worried he can't control himself because she's "right here, and you're so attractive and so close." "And so vulnerable." "Yes."

Yeah, we all pretend it doesn't happen. We all move on, myself included, and love him anyway and so the writers got what they wanted. But it's the epitome of lazy because we all forget about it so quickly. It doesn't impact anything or anyone. The only time it's even hinted at again is in "War Co-Respondent" - which does such a better job at showcasing BJ's mental struggle in regards to being unfaithful (Note: Thank you Mike for that. I have my own thoughts on where that episode comes from but that's neither here nor there, I guess). If it wasn't such a lazily written episode, we'd talk about it more. But we don't. It's a throw away episode for a lot of us, because we never actually get to see BJ wrestle with it outside of that one scene in the Swamp with Hawk. That's it.

If it had been done right, that was their chance to really start to dig into BJ's morals and ethics on more than a surface level - and how those are challenged because he's not in the confines of his safety net of marriage and family in the states - and how those things coupled with being there against his will forces him to look at is it the idea of wanting to be committed that's appealing, or the actual act.

In conclusion, I hate "Hanky Panky" and I would've loved to have seen Carrie lay into him and call him out on his shit for a solid five minutes.

[rain-dom]

[FtM Transformation] Proving A Point To Your Best Friend.

I’ve been on so many dates with guys but I just can’t find the right one!” Karla exclaimed.

“Maybe let them know you’re a witch? That way, when you go down on them, you could-“

“Oh, shut up, Michelle! Ugh, why does your mind have to be so dirty?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to lighten up the mood.”

“No, you’re fine it’s just, sigh, so frustrating sometimes with the dating apps and the one night stands. I want to be with someone, not just have mediocre sex with men who can’t even find the clit.”

Karla put her hands on her face. “And it doesn’t help that being a witch on the side isn’t going anywhere - I’m trying to learn how to do transformations, and I’ve been getting better, but I feel so lame compared to the other witches! I’m taking such a long time to learn how to be a witch that the other new witches are probably looking down on me right now. I’m terrible at dating, I’m terrible at being a witch. Hell, even my grades at uni are in the dumps! God, I feel like the stupidest 21-year-old ever!”

“Hey! Don’t compare yourself to them, alright? Sure, you might take a little longer to fly on a broom, okay, fine. But what about the progress you’ve made so far? It was only a few months ago that you couldn’t even cast a spell. But now look at you! You’re doing whole transformations!”

Karla smiled at Michelle. “Yeah, you’re right it’s just…so easy for me to get into my head sometimes. But, thanks.”

The two best friends hugged. As they parted, Michelle looked at Karla. She’d known her since childhood, and had been there for her through everything - her crushes, her break-ups, her parents’ divorce, and graduations. Despite this, however, Karla always knew how to push forward and try again, something Michelle admired about her. Not to mention her work ethic, her compassion, and her loyalty towards her friends and family (or, what was left of it). Not to mention her smile, her beach blonde hair, her tanned skin, and her sense of fashion that would take Michelle’s breath away. She didn’t like her that way, of course. She just thought she was a really, really good friend…right?

Karla, on the other hand, thought highly of her best friend. She loved hanging out with her, her weird jokes (even though they were so stupid and juvenile), and that she always had her back no matter what.

Then, Michelle had an idea.

“Say, Karla. What if you could practice your transformation magic on by turning me into a guy?”

“Oh no, Michelle- are you high on something right now?”

“I’m being 100% serious! You’ll use your magic to turn me into a your type - a tall, muscular man, then you can show that off your witch friends and say ‘see, I *can* do transformations’”

“…you do know that witch meetings are for witches only, right?”

“Well, you know what I mean. I just want to prove to you that you *are* a good witch. You just need some extra practice. C’mon, just for one night?”

Karla thought pensively for a moment.

“Oh, *alright*. But this doesn’t mean anything, we’re still just friends, okay? And you’re gonna have to lose your clothes first, so they don’t rip.”

Michelle blushed. She agreed immediately, and Karla made Michelle’s clothes - a white tank top and ripped jeans - disappear, along with her bra and underwear with a hand wave. She covered up her chest and private parts.

Michelle then asked if Karla could tie her hands and legs up, and put a blindfold on.

“…okay, weirdo. Besides, why are you blushing so much? We’ve seen each other naked before. Now, get on the bed.”

After Michelle practically ran to the bed, Karla tied her hands above her head and her feet together with her purple magic, and gave her a blue sleeping blindfold.

Karla pointed at Michelle’s naked body, which immediately made a purple aura around Michelle’s body. “Agh! Shit! I-I feel hot-” Michelle’s shoulders started to grow in width, and her body started to grow taller by a few inches. As that happened, she felt her neck get a little thicker and her height increased by a few inches. Her boobs - once a C-cup, had now receded into B cups. Her bones and muscles tensed and reformed, which, although uncomfortable, also felt pleasurable. It was like being massaged, but instead of just the skin, her bones and internal organs were being massaged as well. “Huff, huff- oh god, my shoulders! They feel so weird!” Michelle exclaimed.

“O-oh god! Michelle, are you okay?? Do you want me to change you back?”

“No, this actually feels…pretty good? Weird, but good.” Michelle said through heavy breaths. She noticed Karla still needed a little boost of confidence, so she tried her best weapon yet - teasing.

“See? That was...impressive. B-but! I bet you can’t change…oh, my hips! I bet you can’t make me lose my curves,” Michelle teased.

Karla was taken aback. “What?? But you just said I could do magic! You know what? Fine! I’ll show you!”, said Karla as her best friend’s waist and hips began to even out.

“Ngh Ah! Karla, this is-hah!” Michelle moaned, nearly breathless due to the changes. Her hips cracked as they decreased in width, and her curves began to even out until they were almost gone. Her thighs lost some of its thickness as well.

“Hah, hah Karla…” Michelle was starting to sweat at this point, getting turned on at how good her best friend was making her feel.

Karla herself started to blush at the sound of her best friend’s voice slowing getting deeper, but she shook her head and ignored that those feelings...for now.

“You know what? To prove to you what good of a witch I am, I’m gonna take away your boobs!”

“Mmph Ahh! Yes! That feels- oh!!Michelle’s breasts began to deflate, pulling themselves into her body. It was as if they were being massaged and molded to Karla’s will, like a sculptor making a fine sculpture out of a full rock.

At this point, Karla was starting to break into a sweat.

“You’re turning out really well, Michelle. I think I’m actually doing some nice work here!”

“Sure, but, what about my head? B-bet you don’t have enough mana to change that!”

“We’ll see about that!” said Karla, as Michelle’s face became longer and its edges more defined, her brown neck-length hair receding into a short haircut.

“Hrrrrk! Errrgk!” Grunted Michelle as the changes took place. Meanwhile, her throat thickened even more and deposited a big, noticeable Adam’s apple as her voice became more and more baritone.”

“Ah? Oh! Ahh…”bMichelle loved the sound of her new voice. “My-my voice! It’s so deep! She was actually thoroughly enjoying the masculinization process. To her surprise, she liked how her body was turning out.

Meanwhile, Karla was blushing, her face in a deep red hue. She was starting to get really turned on by how deep Michelle's voice was getting. She really was definitely becoming her type.

“You know, I bet you don’t think I could do this!” Karla said as she pressed her hands on her best friends now-flat chest, and moving the apart from each other, causing huge pecs to push out, forming on Michelle’s broadening chest.

“Ah! Oh, yes! Please, keep going Karla!- Ah!”

The muscle growth spread around her body, first through her arms and hands, and down to her abs, which Karla helped to create and mold with her hands. Michelle’s thighs and legs began to thicken with muscle as well. Little bits of hair grew on her chest, legs, and under her arms.

”Hah…hah… Karla, this is incredible!” Michelle said, feeling her best friend’s hands caressing her now tanned, chiseled body, her vagina wet from the new feelings.

“Hah, hah Mmm~ yes, you’re turning out so well!” Said Kalra, almost drooling over her best friends new body. Then she noticed something about her best friend’s vagina - it was surrounded by plenty of clear, sticky fluid. She gasped. “Wait as sec, are you…are you wet?”-

“Ah! Ugh! Oh! mngh Oh, god! Something’s nngh coming out of me! Is…is that my cock?!” As Michelle’s moans indicated, her body was changing on its own now, her clit now starting to grow bigger and bigger, pulsating and throbbing, looking more and more like a penis with every push. Karla wasn’t even going to help her best friend grow her dick just yet, it just started growing. She stopped it from growing any further by pushing down on it with both palms.

“Oh, oh my god! I lost control of your body! Your dick just started growing on its *own!* I’m pushing down on it with my hands to stop it from growing any more-“

“No! Please! Pull it! Help me get it out of there! Help me set it “free!” Michelle begged, not even caring it if grew on its own. It was sending waves of pleasure all over her body. She wanted - no, *needed* it. Michelle’s dick at this point was only partially out, with Karla barely being able to keep it down.

“Ah- o-okay! If that’s what you want then, I’ll do it! I’ll help you! You push, I’ll pull!”

Michelle moaned in response.

“Ah! AH!!! Yes! Yes! Karla! Pl-please keep-OH!! Fuck, yes!”

As Karla pulled and Michele pushed, the dick grew and grew, until it was its full erection length of 9 inches, with pre-cum leaking out and down her new dick. It almost consumed most of Michelle’s vagina, along with the balls that were coming in. There was still plenty of cum coming out of her vagina, too. With one last pull/push, the dick reached its full size, and Michelle’s dick finally came.

“Oh god- hah, hah “it’s gonna mmph it’s g-going to- I’M about to- oh GODD!!!”

Cum shot everywhere, but mostly at Karla. She turned her face away and attempted to shield her face from the onslaught of her best friend’s cum. She thought it tasted salty.

And with that, Michelle’s vagina was no more, now replaced with two large, hairy balls and a huge, hard, throbbing, veiny cock.

“See?” Michelle said through heavy breaths, “I told you - you can use magic, haha.”

Karla wiped the cum from her face with her right hand, then looked at it.

“I…I can’t believe I just did that.” She said, satisfied, yet shocked at what she had done to her best friend.

”Hah…hah…oh my god!”

Karla looked at both the cum in her hand and on the sheets, and the warm feelings she had in between her legs.

“O-oh my god. You’re a- and I was…I was so into it that- what-“

“I-I can’t believe we just…did all that stuff. I don’t know what came over me.” Michelle said, embarrassed and surprised as well at the outcome.

“W-well…do you like your new look?”

“Oh my god, yes! I love it! I-I actually think I like this body more. Like, I feel more like *myself.*

“Michelle…that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.” Kalra said with tears in her eyes. “Would you like me to call you by a different name?”

“You know, I do feel more like a Mitchell than a Michelle.”

Karla lays down next to Mitchell, and the duo lie there for the next few minutes.

Michelle, now Mitchell, turned to his friend.

“I think I’ve just realized- I love you. As in, uh, more than just a friend.”

“Michelle…”

“Your big heart, your determination, your loyalty to the people you love. Your smile. Fuck…I just, really wanna be with you forever.

Karla took a step back.

“Oh- oh my. I uh, need to dry off my hands.”

Michelle’s mind wandered. Did she go about that the wrong way? Was she too forward? Was her best friend going to hate her forever?

After washing her hands to get Karla’s cum off her hands, she taking a minute or two to think. Karla came back to her best friend, her face full of blush.

She told her she was willing to try being more than friends.

“So…what does this mean for us?” Asked Mitch.

“I guess that just means I know how to do more than one type of magic~” teased Karla.

The “best friends” - now romantic partners - looked into each others eyes, and kissed.

[lakesbian]

How do you think Alec and Blake would get along? Your choice of the circumstances of their meeting, whether it's Alec being subjected to The Horrors or Blake being subjected to whatever the fuck Bet has going on

okay i know blake well enough to answer this now. if we tossed him in bet there's no feasible way to force him to interact w/ alec so the significantly more fun option is going with the premise of: - alec is teleported into pact around blake's arrival at hillsglade house. he does not get to keep his power :( no tripping people allowed - the above facts aren't actually distressing or confusing to anyone, but other than that everything about alec's history & personality remains identical to in worm - everyone involved is aware that alec is on team blake & rose and he will be treated as such

anyway some really freaky awful shit would happen and alec would just be totally unperturbed about it while blake is shaking sniveling crying so blake and rose would conspiratorially whisper to each other like Okay There's Definitely Something Up With That Boy. Keep An Eye On That Strange Little Teenager. meanwhile alec is cross-legged on the couch cheerfully + obliviously sipping his hot cocoa (unlike blake he is not above powdered cocoa and tapwater in a house where the only other options are oatmeal, beans, or a sad moldy grilled cheese), nose-deep in a book about demons, infrequently sharing what he thinks are Cool Educational Helpful Fun Facts with them (it is the most nightmarish shit they have ever heard. ever).

furthermore it would not take very long for him to think well, i guess i should be a Pragmatic and Communicative Team Player by bringing up the demons so we can all get on the same page. surely, alec vasil says to himself, i can grasp the finer points of the ethical connotations of the matter and open convincing dialogue on this subject! which he would express to blake and rose suchly: "now, hear me out before you guys bite my head off, but would using the demons really be so bad? it's not like people aren't already dying every day, right? the world already sucks, we probably couldn't make it that much worse."

and then he would nod in satisfaction with himself like he just said something intelligent and quite patently true.

which blake and rose would, very understandably, interpret as meaning that there is something deeply wrong with him and if they don't intervene he will rapidly make it literally everyone else's problem. blake would 100% refuse to stop pressing him to swear that he Won't Use The Fucking Demons.

to which alec--a boy severely traumatized by being forced to do horrible things to other people against his will, who would Immediately imagine a Conquest scenario in vivid detail upon being asked to swear off demons--would promptly think "FUCK no, that's Asking For It." but then he would also be like. "even though they're being Dumb and Stupid. i, alec, will bravely nobly and humbly compromise in the interest of keeping the peace and indicating that i don't actually intend to use the demons i was just floating the idea like a totally regular person would." and his genius idea for a compromise to indicate that he didn't really intend to use the demons would be promising not to use the demons [insert alec calculating the maximum amount of time he thinks it can safely be assumed that they won't be forced by some circumstance or other to use the demons here] In The Next Week.

which would result in blake being like SO YOU WANT TO USE THE DEMONS RIGHT AFTER THE WEEK ENDS??? and you get the gist it would be an absolute comedy of alec being a freak and blake and rose furiously trying to keep the freak on a leash. the funniest part is that he really wouldn't use the demons unless there was no other option, he's already tied his own leash to a nearby fence, he's just entirely cavalier about the Idea and subsequently keeps giving blake persistent heart attacks over (relatively) nothing. he would realize pretty quickly that he's coming off wrong and genuinely attempt to course correct so that they'll quit fucking bothering him but he has zero frame of reference for how to make that course correction happen and would thus just be weird in a different direction. i could go on. in fact i Will. this will be an extended posting saga.

[gravelynz]

what crimes do your ocs commit

OH BOY I'M GLAD YOU ASKED.

soleil

has done nothing wrong ever in her life.

just kidding i lied. Things kick off with getting accused of SORORICIDE. She didn't actually do it, but things spiral from there.

Her old order was shady, but the whole murder accusation thing happened on her first field mission, so no "corrupt paladin order" crimes on her behalf.

when you're wanted by a paladin order in greenguard the optics suuuck. she can't just go on and live her life like normal. and then she meets sidus. that's when things go from bad to worse as SELLSWORDS! it's bad business, but people don't ask too many questions which works perfectly for her.

they end up faking a hostage situation and i feel like this is the peak of their Pre-Game Crimes™

She gets a pardon from Swordhaven mid 13LoC, but things don't really improve from there. Any "crime" from this point is Alliance sanctioned.

It's okay the hit the slay button if it's a bad guy! Why are you all looking at me like that

not necessarily a crime but allowing the truth serum interrogation and execution of xavier lionfang was certainly a choice.

her choices lean borderline ruthless and the war enables this. it's a slow but definitive escalation. this will have no consequences whatsoever.

anyway 13loc finale

sidus

chaotic stupid. soleil meeting him after she escaped was the best and worst thing to ever happen to her. he drags her into so much bullshit pre-game.

mild kleptomaniac tendencies. MILD.

he can show you some pretty cool sleight of hand tricks aaaand there goes your gold.

"sorry the order that raised you thinks you're a murderer and tried to kill you. my dad sucks too he doesn't want me being a sellsword and kicked me out of the house. anyway wanna go take some quests from that ranger who gives gold to monsters."

pretty much larping his swashbuckler fantasy with his new bestie (one sided). except he finds there are actual consequences. lol. lmao even. surprise you swordhaven city slicker.

he's...more normal than her in 13loc, weirdly enough. like yeah he'll take whatever option benefits him the most, but those tend to lean Good anyway.

currently in his piracy era. very ethical. that's how i wrote him out of everything post QoM. threw him into the ocean. he'll be back i'm sure

[jeanmoreaux]

I am loving your recent flood of AFTG posts, I have never been the same since I read that series and Captive Prince a few years back

Anyways I saw the one compiled with quotes about rage and Andrew and I almost cried

I really really love Nora for being like, fck it and she just wrote the characters she wanted and the story she wanted and nothing comes close to that experience

I really appreciate how Andrew fully is an unhinged and violent person and there’s no ‘redemption arc or forgiveness’ nonsense that most writers (I’m looking at the recent YA sickness and booktok monstrosities) —- would intent to write in or be forced to do so by their editors or whatnot.

He is unapologetically himself and even though in reality I would probably avoid someone like that (I am smol. I have all the rage of the world but I would snap like a twig in 2 seconds if he decided to just end me—-ala Allison and Aaron situation WHICH I HAVE SOME BEEF WITH IF YOU’LL HEAR ME OUT) —-I just appreciate his character so much I can’t explain

Neil is myyyy boyyy though I definitely experienced the series the way he also develops across the books. When he’s shookt I’m shookt, when he’s snarky I’m also feeling snarky, and when he’s driving into a conversation like knives I’m also with him (the scene after the assault in book 2, at the hospital where Neil confronts him about ‘doing nothing’ still sends chills down my spine)

I just love AFTG it’s tattooed into my brain

ahhhhh you have noooo idea how much joy this ask brought me. even after all these years i still get excited when people come talk to me about these books and the characters in it. i am all with you in the opinion that this series is made special by nora just writing what she wanted to write. it’s so unapologetic in that approach as well, which is why the story and the characters and the dynamics work for me. and omg don’t even get me started on andrew or neil, they are my sons. i have soooo many feelings about them it’s awful. i actually appreciate how messed up they both are and how they both don’t really lose that by the end of the story. they do get better in their own ways without fundamentally changing as people and that just feels so right for them (to me at least). for me, this story has always been about the after of trauma. it’s about the coping mechanism to deal with it and the adjustment you have to make to survive it and also that even when you’re never gonna be what society considers “normal” again you can have a life that’s worth living and full of love and accomplishments and success. a life that lets you be okay most of the time. in my opinion, none of the characters needed a redemption anyway. ((but you’re right, popular sensibilities often push editors to demand that from their writers. which is so stupid to me but another discussion entirely lol.)) like, with these characters, it’s all about perspective. you simply cannot meet them on a level that insists on “healthy” notions of ethics and morals because they operate on such other principles. principles that make sense for the characters based on their psychology and circumstances. and that’s where you have to meet them and the point from where you have to judge them, in my opinion. ((that’s also why i think aftg is not for most people because i get not wanting to stray from one’s own set of sensibilities when it comes to the stuff in this series.)) personally, these characters (and especially andrew and neil) are so interesting exactly because their brains are so different from mine. i find that fascinating. and nora characterises them well enough to give it all a coherent internal logic that works out for the story. so YES OMG i appreciate these characters so much as well. they’re truly so different in a way that i eat up. and PLS full-on shit-stirrer, people-dragging, truth-spitting neil is my FAVOURITE!!! love it when he lets lose and verbally attacks people like there is no tomorrow. makes me so proud in the weirdest way.

also. what’s your beef with the allison and aaron situation? 👀 i am so curious and i’ll gladly hear you out

[sunnyribbons]

Larry x Fem!Reader

NSFW

Word count: 2654

"I made my way into your schedule"

You had been working at the Pokémon League for a few months now. Your job consisted of sitting behind your desk, and come up with ways to attract new trainers to come challenge the Pokémon League.

Although your job was important, you didn’t get to see the Elite Four that often. Which was a shame, because you really had a thing for Larry. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something about him attracted you.

He knew this. You had actually tried seducing him a few times, but without any luck. As he would say, “I have no time for romance” with his stoic, soulless expression, and would continue on with his work. Truth to be told, it made sense. The man looks like he hasn’t had a day off in years. He’s always so busy with work, he doesn’t have any time for himself. Perhaps that’s what got you so interested in him; you wanted something that felt completely out of grasp.

It took you a while to think of how to grab his attention. Larry was always so busy. How could you ever fit inside his schedule? Hmmm..

You were waiting in a meeting room at the Elite Four building, sitting at a desk. It was a very dusty old meeting room down in the basement of the building. It was mostly used for storage, as there were virtually no meetings being held here.

As you playfully sat there with a smile on your face, the door opened. It was Larry, with an emotionless expression as he always had. He looked at you and sighed, standing in the door frame.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you, scheduling a fake meeting in my busy agenda is a smart move”

You grinned at his reaction, while still sitting at the desk.

“However, I’ll be out now, I don’t have time for this” He was about to walk out, when you jumped off the desk.

“Wait!” You walked over to him with a pouty, judgmental face. “That’s not very professional now, is it? I very carefully placed my way into your schedule. I know for a fact you actually have time now! 15 minutes to be exact.”

He sighed, knowing you were right. His hand was still on the door knob, and he closed the door behind him. He focused his attention back to you. “Okay, what is it then?”

He was standing right in front of you, towering above you. Seeing him like this made you realize just how much bigger he was. Had he always been this tall? You began to stutter. “Well, uhm, you see,”

Upon further inspection he noticed you were wearing a very specific outfit. A skirt with a cute blouse. You normally didn’t wear these kinds of clothes during work. He knew where this was going and let out another sigh. “Y/N, you know I’m not interested in dating, I’ve told you this before”

You stopped stuttering and looked at him with yet another pouty face, this time with red cheeks. He always said this, and truth to be told, it annoyed you more each time he said it. Surely this man must have something going on in his life?!

You put your thoughts together and calmed down. You took another glance at him, this time more serious.

“Larry. Listen.”

He looked down at you, about to listen carefully. You felt your chest pounding with what you were going to say.

“I see you work so hard, every day. And I really admire that. But I also think you need time to relax every now and then. Surely you must have a lot of stress with all that work you’re doing. So many things all at once. I don’t even know how you do it!”

He was still looking down at you, listening, with his stoic face. Despite this, you still didn’t feel like your words were coming through to him. How could you get to this man’s core?

“And that’s why I think… It would be really good for your work ethic, and professionalism to have some fun with me, right here, right now. I am in your schedule, after all, and it wouldn’t be professional to cancel an appointment.”

You eagerly looked at his face, waiting for a reaction. Did you really just say that out loud? No way he was going to fall for something so stupid.

“Well,” he sighed, “I suppose I don’t want to get in trouble with the boss” It was at this moment that he placed his briefcase on the ground, and something about his ambiance changed. “Have you signed the professional secrecy contract?” He asked, while adjusting his tie.

Wait, what?

As you were still processing what he had just asked, your eyes focused on his hands. He was putting on his gloves. Didn’t he only wear those during Elite Four challenges? Ah, you really liked it when he was wearing his gloves.

“Well?” He asked again, looking down at you. You snapped out of your thoughts.

“Uhm, yes, yes” You quickly responded. You were honestly not sure what contract he was talking about, but you probably signed it one way or another.

Larry was putting on his second glove, “It means that anything said and done in appointed meetings can and will be kept private if necessary” He finally finished adjusting his clothes and looked back at you again. His emotionless expression never changed since he entered, but you could swear something was off about him. Did you hit a nerve with what you said about his work?

“Y-yeah, I’m pretty sure I signed that” You responded, taken aback by the current situation.

“Good. Where do we begin” He asked with a plain expression, immediately getting to the point. He walked closer to you. You didn’t realize at first, but this made your body automatically walk backwards, and before you knew it you were sitting at the desk you had been sitting at before. This time with Larry towering above you.

Wait, was he serious? I mean, you really liked him and had been wanting him for months, but was he really this easy? Now that you were actually here, you were completely flustered. He can’t be serious, right?

Larry noticed you were having trouble processing the situation. “I guess I can take the lead in this appointment if you’d prefer, Y/N. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable at work. This is what you want out of this meeting, right?”

Oh. Oh. He is serious.

“Yes.. Yes! That… would be nice actually. I’m sorry, I’m just so embarrassed. I asked you to come all the way over here, for me, and now I’m too flustered to say anything” You put your hands in your face from embarrassment and felt your cheeks burning.

Tsk, you were such a bottom.

Larry didn’t respond verbally to this, and instead took away your hands from your face. He looked at your face for a moment, then placed his left arm behind your back, holding you close. He leaned into you as he placed his right hand around your neck. You felt his leather glove in your neck. He glanced at you for a second and then glanced down to your body.

I guess this is really happening.

His right hand went down from your neck to your breasts. He slightly brushed them at first, and then slowly began squeezing them.

Yeah, this was really happening, oh my God.

You let out a small, high pitched moan as he squeezed your breasts. This made him glance up again for a second, only to immediately return focus to your breasts. You were wearing a pretty tight blouse, so it was a bit hard for Larry to properly grab them. Still you really enjoyed his hands brushing over your body. His left hand was still behind your back, keeping you close, making sure you couldn’t escape. Not like you would want to escape.

The whole scene had you blushing so hard, you had a hard time properly thinking of what was going on. Your mind was racing and you felt your panties were starting to get wet. As this was all going on, Larry’s expression still had not budged an inch. What was going on inside this man’s mind? Was he doing this all for you? For this “appointment”? To improve his “work ethic”? What the hell was up with this man! You really did hit a nerve with your whole work speech, huh.

After fumbling your breasts he slowly moved his hand down, closer to your hips. He took another glance at your face, perhaps to make sure you were still feeling okay. He was very easily able to see from your face that you were, in fact, enjoying this.

“Hey, Larry”, you managed to talk, “This is all under that professional secrecy contract right?”

“You know I take my job very seriously”

He shifted his focus to your body again, and moved his right hand down your skirt. This man was all about getting to the point alright, no time to hesitate. Larry placed his fingers on your panties, and felt how wet you were. You got a bit embarrassed knowing he could quite literally feel your attraction to him.

“Bend over” He ordered.

You blinked. W-what?

He simply looked at you with his simple, plain face, waiting for you to do exactly as he said. “I don’t have all day” He said.

This was really happening, huh. Oh.

You turned around, placed your hands on the desk, with your ass up high. Without hesitation Larry raised up your skirt, and pulled off your panties. You couldn’t see him from this position, but you could hear the sound of his pants zipping.

“Ready?” He asked.

You were more than ready. You had been waiting for months trying to seduce this man, to the point of frustration, and here he was simply giving it to you?! All because you mentioned his work ethic?! Fuck yes, you were ready.

“Hm-hm” you simply nodded. You thought it was unfortunate you couldn’t see much of Larry from this position, but getting fucked by Larry from behind didn’t sound so bad either. Somehow he knew exactly where your pussy was, and just like that he put his penis inside of you, as if he had done this a million times before.

“Ah, fuck-“ you blurted out.

As he went inside of you he felt how wet you were. You heard him let out a huge sigh, almost like a sigh of relief. The tension in his shoulders lowered, and his body started to relax, as if it had been desperately craving this. Perhaps his busy schedule really did not do the best for him.

He placed his hands under your skirt, at your hips. You could still definitely feel his leather gloves. He began pounding inside of you slowly at first, but picked up the pace very quickly. You both let out a bunch of moans.

“Fuck, Larry, I-“ you were trying to speak as he picked up the pace, “I didn’t… Expect you to.. be so good at this”

He let out noticeable moans, and they sounded so hot. You really weren’t used to seeing, or hearing him like this.

The whole situation with you bending over this desk, in the storage room, while Larry from the Elite Four was fucking you from behind, got you so incredibly horny. What would his face even look like now? No way he would still be as stoic as before, no way. God you wish you could see it.

You felt you were slowly reaching your climax, and it felt so good. Larry just kept on pounding in you on the same rhythm, touching all your good spots from the inside. You were so ready for that orgasm. He kept on going like this, when suddenly you heard a buzzing noise.

“Fuck” he grunted. It was Larry’s phone, that was laying on the table. While still going inside you at that same pace, without hesitation, he answered his phone. “Yes. This is Larry”

He somehow managed to switch his attitude immediately to the normal Larry you were so used to, all the while multitasking with fucking you from behind. What the hell?

What Larry didn’t notice however is that you were about to orgasm, and he was not stopping the pace. As he spoke on the phone, you reached your climax. It felt so fucking amazing, but it took all you had in you not to scream from pleasure like you would so badly want to. You were going to kill Larry after this for picking up his phone of all things.

“Okay. See you in 10” He hung up the phone and placed it back on the table. “Did you hear that?” He asked, not even giving you a second to process what just happened.

“W-what?” you moaned, still light headed from the huge orgasm you just had, all the whilst Larry was still pounding inside you.

“I have another appointment in 10 minutes, so I have to finish this quickly” He tightened his grip on your hips and started pounding even faster. His thrusts became harder and you could feel his muscles tighten up.

He started moaning even louder than before. Very frequent, low moans. He sounded so hot. You knew what he was going for, he wanted to cum inside you, and as soon as possible preferably. You put up your ass even higher towards him, grinding along with him. He took notice of this.

“Fuck. Fuck” he moaned. At this point Larry simply couldn’t stop himself, he was really into you, literally and figuratively. His hands squeezed your hips, so tight he was almost pinching them. You both moaned even harder than before.

Larry finally felt his load coming into you, and came. “Fuck, fuck” he moaned. He couldn’t even remember the last time he came, let alone in a cute girl like you.

He let out huge sighs. His pounds became slower and eventually stopped. He had his eyes closed and was definitely tired from what had just happened. You were starting to wonder if he was okay.

You were completely tired and overwhelmed, too, but the euphoria you got from just having been fucked by Larry was insane.

He let out one final big sigh, and opened his eyes. He went outside of you, stood up straight and pulled up his pants again. It was as if something in him just switched back to work mode again. With Larry now out of you, you were able to turn around once more and check on him. He looked about the same as before.

“Are you satisfied with this meeting, Y/N?”

You were sitting at the desk, still fully grasping everything, breathing heavily. You simply stared at him for a little bit. He was just… Larry, as you knew him. You could not read this man’s mind, at all.

“Yeah, that was a really good meeting,” You responded “But please don’t ever pick up the phone again when you’re fucking me from behind Larry.”

“Hmm” He put off his gloves, “I see.”

“It was really unprofessional” You added.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll make sure we never get into a situation like this again”.

You gave him another angry pouty face, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m just kidding” He let out a very small but notable chuckle.

Larry just chuckled? Perhaps having sex really is healthy for you. In any case, it was nice to see him express something positive, and it made your heart flutter.

Larry walked over to the door and casually picked up his briefcase that was still standing next to the door, as if nothing had just happened. “Will this be a reoccurring meeting?” he asked.

You grinned. “See you next week”.

[darkfrog24]

When someone has a question like this, it's important to answer it seriously. There's a lot going on with why liberals think Trump supporters are stupid, and Peni Delina Bedard's post is a good place to start.

I have relatives who are Trump supporters. They're good people. In 2016, my uncle would laugh and say, "He's saying what everyone is thinking!" That kind of guy. Donald Trump promised, among other things, to get them a tax break. So I'm speaking from here.

There's something that conservatives keep doing that makes it look to us like you're lying and something that liberals keep doing that makes it look like we've missed the point: 1) We ask you what you want. 2) You give an answer that's close but not exactly it. 3) We take your answer at face value and propose actions to make it happen. 4) You guys go "That's not what we want! That would only make things worse!" 5) We assume you were lying in step two and that your real motive is to cause whatever outcome will result from not taking the actions in step three. You see this a lot with abortion and gun control. You guys seem really upset about this whole (2) "saving babies" thing and we don't agree with you that fetuses are babies, but (3) we come up with plans for sex ed and IUD programs and we have evidence that they work, but this only (4) seems to make you more upset, so (5) we figure that saving babies isn't really what you care about and assume that oppressing women and keeping poor people poor is what you really want.

There are a couple reasons why this keeps happening.

A) Liberals do a lot of moral reasoning from consequentialism and conservatives do a lot of moral reasoning from virtue ethics. We all use both, but each side skews more one way. The short version is that liberals think the purpose of government is to create the best outcomes spread out among the largest group of people and conservatives think the purpose of government is to create a society in which people get better outcomes if they make morally good choices. It's okay if most people lose as long as losing was their own fault. This guy has a wonderful take on it. It's not that conservatives think they'll all be billionaires someday. It's that they think there's honor in getting what wealth and position you do have.

B) A big part of the liberal, progressive mindset is faith in evidence. If there are multiple scientific studies saying things like, "This vaccine is relatively safe" then, to us, that's almost as good as seeing it with our own eyes. Our problem is that it's very hard to imagine how someone wouldn't think this way. We remember being kids who didn't understand how the scientific system works, so we imagine that people who don't believe in science just don't understand how it works.

In 2015 and 2016, Trump communicated with conservatives using theatrics. He created an image, like a fictional character in a movie. He painted himself as a savvy businessman, an unstoppable winning machine feared by enemies and adored by women. We thought you knew it wasn't real. It was like if Bruce Willis were running for president. We thought you knew he was Bruce Willis and not John McClane. Bruce Willis can't kill a helicopter with a car when he's out of bullets. John McClane could only do it because he lives in a scripted world.

But then Trump had four years to show us the substance underneath the flash, and it turned out he can't govern. He postured and told President Enrique Peña Nieto that Mexico had better pay for the wall or else just cancel their meeting. In a movie, this is where the meebly secondary character would give way to the force of the hero's personality. The real-life Enrique Peña Nieto cancelled their meeting.

Then there's Joe Biden. He doesn't look like much, but he's great at working behind the scenes, grinding out deals between people who don't always agree with each other, laying down track for plans that won't show until later. And we can look at his work with veterans' benefits and infrastructure and we can see, "Ah yes, here is evidence that Biden governs reasonably well. The results speak for Biden's ability to get results."

We have had four years to see that Trump can't govern, that his policies are not only cruel but ineffective. There is evidence, lots of it, right in front of your eyes. Why don't you believe it? Do you just not understand?

He didn't get you your tax cut. He didn't restore American values. He didn't give us a high-winning economy. He didn't do the things you said you wanted done.

So I think the liberal side is justified in wondering what it was that you really did want.

An anguished question from a Trump supporter: ‘Why do liberals think Trump supporters are stupid?’

Peni Delina Bedard · August 31, 2019  ·  The serious answer: Here’s what we really think about Trump supporters - the rich, the poor, the malignant and the innocently well-meaning, the ones who think and the ones who don’t… That when you saw a man who had owned a fraudulent University, intent on scamming poor people, you thought “Fine.” That when you saw a man who had made it his business practice to stiff his creditors, you said, “Okay.” That when you heard him proudly brag about his own history of sexual abuse, you said, “No problem.” That when he made up stories about seeing Muslim-Americans in the thousands cheering the destruction of the World Trade Center, you said, “Not an issue.” That when you saw him brag that he could shoot a man on Fifth Avenue and you wouldn’t care, you chirped, “He sure knows me.” That when you heard him illustrate his own character by telling that cute story about the elderly guest bleeding on the floor at his country club, the story about how he turned his back and how it was all an imposition on him, you said, “That’s cool!” That when you saw him mock the disabled, you thought it was the funniest thing you ever saw. That when you heard him brag that he doesn’t read books, you said, “Well, who has time?” That when the Central Park Five were compensated as innocent men convicted of a crime they didn’t commit, and he angrily said that they should still be in prison, you said, “That makes sense.” That when you heard him tell his supporters to beat up protesters and that he would hire attorneys, you thought, “Yes!” That when you heard him tell one rally to confiscate a man’s coat before throwing him out into the freezing cold, you said, “What a great guy!” That you have watched the parade of neo-Nazis and white supremacists with whom he curries favor, while refusing to condemn outright Nazis, and you have said, “Thumbs up!” That you hear him unable to talk to foreign dignitaries without insulting their countries and demanding that they praise his electoral win, you said, “That’s the way I want my President to be.” That you have watched him remove expertise from all layers of government in favor of people who make money off of eliminating protections in the industries they’re supposed to be regulating and you have said, “What a genius!” That you have heard him continue to profit from his businesses, in part by leveraging his position as President, to the point of overcharging the Secret Service for space in the properties he owns, and you have said, “That’s smart!” That you have heard him say that it was difficult to help Puerto Rico because it was in the middle of water and you have said, “That makes sense.” That you have seen him start fights with every country from Canada to New Zealand while praising Russia and quote, “falling in love” with the dictator of North Korea, and you have said, “That’s statesmanship!” That Trump separated children from their families and put them in cages, managed to lose track of 1500 kids, has opened a tent city incarceration camp in the desert in Texas - he explains that they’re just “animals” - and you say, “Well, OK then.” That you have witnessed all the thousand and one other manifestations of corruption and low moral character and outright animalistic rudeness and contempt for you, the working American voter, and you still show up grinning and wearing your MAGA hats and threatening to beat up anybody who says otherwise. What you don’t get, Trump supporters in 2019, is that succumbing to frustration and thinking of you as stupid may be wrong and unhelpful, but it’s also…hear me…charitable. Because if you’re NOT stupid, we must turn to other explanations, and most of them are less flattering.

[aboard-ark-4]

Transcript of the Meeting to Reduce Suicide and Depression among Citizens

Day 198 of Year 274 of the Journey

Meeting Members present:

Zisiek, representative of the Entertainment and Recreation Subcommittee

Tistizi, representative of the Park Maintenance Subcommittee

Krit’zit, representative of the Child Education Subcommittee

Zikit, representative of the Food Production Subcommittee

Triek, representative of Production Factory Maintenance Subcommittee

Iei’ik, representative of the Mental Health Subcommittee

Zikit: Alright, I've started the recording. For the sake of record keeping I will restate the purpose of this meeting. We are to discuss ways to reduce the overall suicide rate, which is currently the cause of all but three of the 102 deaths in the last two years. Iei’ik, what has your team found regarding the underlying cause of the issue?

[Iei’ik sighs]

Iei’ik: It's the lack of a goal. The vast majority of people are either clones or the children of clones and almost all of the training we recei-, sorry, the brain scan volunteers received back on Vivis was about actually establishing The Colony. We-, they were expecting to constantly be fighting back against a hostile environment. That adventurous aspect is what appealed to most people who signed up. Being born with the expectation of exciting struggle and instead ending up in a boring, unchanging, ship for the rest of your life is a lot to take in. It was okay at first because the repairs and corpse cleanup gave everyone something to work towards, but now that that's done there's just nothing meaningful to do.

Zikit: Well, any ideas? The only things my team was able to come up with involved cooking competitions or psychedelics, neither of which sound very promising.

Zisiek: We've seen limited success with video games, vr especially is popular, but it's hit a lull. No real motivation to get started on something new.

Iei’ik: Besides, just playing a game or watching something isn't a very healthy or stable way to stave off depression.

Tistizi: I’d like to suggest more public events, especially competitive ones. Gives people something to work towards. Obviously it's not an all purpose bandage but I don't think we're going to find one. Better to focus on lots of little solutions than look for a big one that might not even exist.

Krit’zit: Agreed, though if it's any help I think we don't have to worry too much about the next generation. Children raised onboard seem generally more accepting of ark life.

Iei’ik: Yes, but that was the case even before the Hizt outbreak.

Krit’zit: Fair point.

Triek: Sorry if this is a stupid question, but why wasn't this a problem when we first left Vivis?

Zisiek: Those people were specifically chosen for their ability to acclimate to this lifestyle.

Triek: Ah.

[23 second silence]

Zisiek: We did have one idea, though the ethics of it are questionable at best.

Tistizi: Yes?

Zisiek: We control what people see and hear, at least digitally, we could easily manipulate what people think. It couldn't be too difficult to introduce the concept that suicide is somehow selfish. People won't want to kill themselves if they think it makes them a bad person.

Krit’zit: That's horrible!

Zisiek: It was just a suggestion.

[A further 112 seconds of silence]

Iei’ik: Wouldn't work. All it would do is exacerbate the problem by making people feel guilty in addition to depressed.

Zikit: What we're looking for is a long term project that will remain engaging and gives people small, frequent, bursts of satisfaction. It also has to be something that will get people excited now, before the problem compounds. Constantly hearing about suicide doesn't allow for much happiness on my, or anyone else's, part.

Krit’zit:...The terraforming data banks do contain the DNA for Rietivs. Maybe we could-

Triek: Not a chance.

Krit’zit: Why not? We cloned people just fine and it's not as though we'll be giving a Rietiv to everyone. Besides, pets meet all the requirements we're looking for.

Triek: It's not just the Retivs you would be making. It's their food, grooming equipment, housing, toys, clothing, and everything else they need to live!

Zisiek: Vet training too.

Triek: Yes, exactly! My point is there is no way you could make enough Retivs to satisfy this issue without cutting into either the maintenance supply, the terraforming supply, or materials used in the creation of everyday objects.

Krit’zit: I don't see why that matters, it's not like we're anywhere near using the terraforming stuff. So long as we recycle what we use when we actually need it there's no reason to be conservative with those supplies.

Triek: I suppose you're right, it just feels wasteful.

Tistizi: If we’re seriously considering cloning as an option then there are a few trees that require pollination which would look great in the parks. The insects would also probably add to the ambience.

Triek: Alright, I'll get started on a project proposal to send to the Maintenance Committee. Education Committee too, we'll need vets if this is to work.

Iei’ik: Don't forget the Law Enforcement Committee! There's going to have to be some sort of animal abuse laws put in place.

Triek: Right. I'll send it to all three of the Governing Committees. Not at all stressful. Great.

Zikit: Anyone have any more ideas?

[Zikit looks around, though nobody says anything]

Zikit: Excellent. If this gets approved then I'm sure the committees will assign some more useful people to actually managing the introduction process. If it gets denied let's meet back for a follow up in twelve days, but as of now this meeting is adjourned.

[alybunisme]

Okay look I hate dream as much as the next person fr. But this is what I'm seeing from looking at everything.

Dream goes to someone's bday party, meets a guy he's never met before, has no reason to know his age, this guy chooses to take too many substances as is his prerogative as a grown adult, gets a lil too wasted and hot and assaults dream, dream shares an uber with the guy and a couple of others, this guy asks to be recorded while he goes on (an admittedly funny but toxic) rant, someone that isn't dream records him again because he asked which is obvious from the video because the guy promos himself. after the fact, this guy slides into dreams DMs to rightly apologize for his behavior, everything is fine, a month later people are getting clout for tweeting jokes about dreams allegations which is fucked btw that shit isn't a joke, and this guy gets in on it despite riding dreams dicks in DMs, so dream calls him out for that, people ask for proof, dream acquires video form the filmer and posts proof....

This does not fit the definition of blackmail. Nor is it indicative of "letting" an adult drink too much or anything that nefarious but two men in their early 20s being stupid and impulsive like oh yeah people in their early 20s tend to do

I've been searching far and wide for proof he's a pedo or groomer and have found nothing but a couple of cringe messages with ppl that are 2 years younger than him max. This isnt grooming. I wanna hate this guy as much as anyone else but you don't actually need to just go around saying he's doing shit with no proof. I hate him just fine for being cringe and annoying.

sorry for the novel, I've been sending this to ppl because I survived actual child exploitation and people using pedophile and grooming as a gotcha as if these words don't have actual meanings and consequences is insane and turning me into a crazy person a little. I don't want to defend dream of all fucking people so I won't. except to ask y'all to just sit and wait for actual evidence before slinging around words, it's extremely irresponsible and hurts the ultimate cause of justice for victims. ty

I couldn't say it better than twt user slensquared "even if dream wasnt a groomer, his extensive and continued history of racism, ableism, sexism, antisemitism, etc. disqualifies him from being an unproblematic content creator and there is no way to ethically support him"

And to add on to that, he has not only sent fans to doxed people, he's also grooming minors in a monetary gain by engaging with them in a inappropriate and parasocial way.

Yeah being called a pedophile isn't great, there's no way dream can beat the allegations though. Him and his fanbase are cringe and toxic and that's all everyone is gonna see them. It doesn't help the way Dream is going about this issue isn't great either (yeah he's young but he's still an adult with a large following he can't just be babied for every mistake he makes)

[elle-m-baker]

Candle No Wick.

A fading memory…

I miss his smile the most. He used to feel safe. I loved how he kissed me. His presence always felt so gentle yet strong. I respected his work ethic and strength to never give up no matter how hard the days felt. I loved that he believed in the strength of prayer. He was funny. It made me happy watching the joy he’d get when dancing or singing to his favorite songs. He was nasty. He was smart. I loved how he challenged me through conversation. His body.. his voice… ughhh he just always left me wanting more.

I definitely saw myself with him but from the very beginning he made it clear that he had no interest in anything beyond our casual hangouts. Which was okay, but also left me feeling confused because though he didn’t want to pursue anything with me, he would often say things like I was lacking effort and that he wanted more.

I tried to do all the things I thought he wanted. I gave him my love, my body, my time. Shared moments of my life, motherhood, my family and friends. I was vulnerable. Never questioned him. Tried to talk through every disagreement with understanding and respect. Always addressed the things that I felt left him uneasy. I showed support through all the changes that were coming his way. Tried to be there for him in ways others weren’t. He always seemed to be down, and I just wanted to be someone who made his days better.

Sometimes I’d think about why that wasn’t enough? or why I wasn’t enough? Maybe we just didn’t have enough in common? Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me? Maybe there was someone else? Was I just a “buffer” for him? Did he simply just not want me?

At times he would be dismissive. Would do things like not speak to me for weeks at a time and say it’s because he was working long hours…. Which I tried to understand but couldn’t. I’m a single parent, I work full time, and in busier moments always found time to send a quick message of “thinking about you…” when I missed him.

He would often just leave me hanging. There was a time that I spent the entire day preparing to see him. Cleaned the house, bought us food, cleaned my car inside and out, got my nails done, hair done, spent time to feel good in what I wore, got the tequila we’d usually drink… all to be stood up. I sat in my car that night for a few hours feeling stupid as fuck.

Still, that never stopped me from jumping up at any moment that he said he wanted to spend time with me. I would drive at all hours of the night just to see him... & what did our time together look like? I would stop by with food and alcohol, we’d watch something, fuck, then I drive my ass right back home.

We started casually speaking in June 2022 which then led to these hangouts… but since knowing him there was only one time that we actually did something together. We went to see a movie then after went to a bar for some drinks. He paid for the movie, I paid for our drinks. Not once after that did he even ask me to go on as much as a walk with him. It’s funny because he’s also NEVER even called me. All of our communication was always through text. Talk about a lack of interest. We did have maybe 2 or 3 experiences “outside” together though… which always seemed to lead to some level of an argument.

I’d invite him to do other things or to meet the people in my life and it was always a no. He would say that he was uncomfortable in groups of people that he does not know or that money was tight… which I understood. On Christmas, I wanted so badly for him to come spend time with me at my family’s house so he wouldn’t be alone. It was just me and my cousin… nothing too overwhelming - no parents- I just wanted to see him but he made me feel so dumb for even asking.

I invested in him in so many ways including financially. There was never a time that I saw him that I didn’t make sure we ate and had alcohol. His Christmas gift, $400. He didn’t have headphones for the gym? Gave him my $300 AirPods. Was hungry? Would send him money or buy him food. Needed some cash to get by? Would send him money. Needed money to move? Sent him hundreds of dollars to make sure he didn’t have to worry. & I’m saying this not to hold it over his head but the reality is I fucking invested in every way I could for this man.

Sure I wasn’t perfect. I was stubborn. He felt I was pushing a relationship on him. Was portraying him negatively to the people closest to me. As much as I pushed the topic of wanting better communication, at times my own was shitty too.

He once asked me to send him nudes. Though it seems so common, it’s something I’ve never done with anyone before… which I never shared with him. Instead I agreed to doing it knowing that it made me uncomfortable. He continued to ask me for them and I continued to tell him I would send them. One day I actually worked up the courage to try and see what they would look like if I did take them. I slept so I would look rested, started my hair and makeup…then got a text message from him. He was upset because he felt I broke my promise and lied to him. Here’s the thing… I’m already sharing my body with him and to me his “ask” takes a lot of courage and should be received by someone who I trust. I wanted to do it but could I even trust him? Where’s he at now?…

There was a point in this timeline where he actually stopped speaking to me. He felt I always told him that he wasn’t doing enough when he was trying to give me all that he could. I missed him when we the communication was cut, but of course respected his space. Then he hit me up to “talk” and here I was thinking omg maybe he’s missed me as much as I miss him… lol. Nope! It was just him feeling badly and wanting to make sure there was no bad blood between us.

Then there was the case of the ex. There were a few things that came up on IG that I know led him not to trust me when it came to him… But If he ever welcomed the conversation he’d know that I would never get back with that man or sleep with him ever again. Fun fact… from the moment we got involved, not only did I not sleep with my ex again, but I didn’t sleep with anyone else. Even til this day he is the last man I had sex with and we haven’t seen each other in months.

As I’m writing this, I feel so crazy for hoping that we would’ve been together. It definitely feels like he was right in the feeling of me being pushy on the topic. Shit wasn’t always this weird though. He would have moments of saying sweet things to me, he’d give me beautiful advice and encourage me to pray, our time together did feel good… and one day even dropped the L word. He finally expressed some level of feelings for me and I had no idea what to do with it. The moment felt so good! He was so passionate when we had sex that night. Told me over and over that he loved me and with each time I fucking melted more. I knew I loved him but couldn’t believe he felt that for me. But wth did he even mean by it? He loved me? Or was he in love with me? I knew what I meant when I said it back but did he understand what I meant?

I thought that moment would bring us closer together but it just made me sad as fuck. He knew that I wanted to be with him… I always made that clear. Then he tells me he loves me… but that still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want anything with me. Why couldn’t he just respectfully remove himself from my life if i wasn’t what he wanted instead of toying with my feelings so deeply?

A few weeks after telling me he loves me he moved to another state and never even said bye. There was nothing. I hoped I meant a little something to him you know since he “loved me” but that moment showed me I didn’t. Sure he shared with me his plan to move but it was always up in the air… one moment he was moving the next he was staying. I found out through IG when it was actually confirmed that he was leaving and got see this transition in his life through his fucking story posts. Still I tried to be there and allowed him space to reach out when he was ready. When he did, all I wanted to do was show him I was still here and would love and support him even with the distance. Made sure that he was okay. That he was eating. That he could move to the place that would work well for him and enjoy this move and new season of his life. He expressed that he loved me often and was grateful for my support.

& here we are now. Weeks have passed. Mother’s Day passed. My birthday passed. And nothing from this man that “loved” me & I’m trying to let it go. Let him go.

The people in my life who have witnessed my season with him, all just think this is about money lost or me being bothered because of rejection, but it’s much deeper than that to me. I haven’t had much dating experience, my relationships have been extremely scarring, and I’m also just really fucking shy. It took a lot for me to even find the courage to exchange texts with him as we got to know each other. I was open and honest, fought though my insecurities, put my cards on the table for this person who I pictured myself with and in the end was GHOSTED. Not only is it embarrassing but it definitely hurts that I couldn’t even get a conversation. He just really didn’t care and moved forward as if I never existed. It’s just left me in a place where I have ZERO interest in dating again. Though I was left feeling hurt and shit was just all over the place, I still loved my time with him.

I honestly hope he is well and happy. Beyond wanting something with him he is just someone I genuinely care about. Sometimes I still wish that I’d see his name come across my phone. Or that I’ll see him again. Or wonder if he ever thinks about me. Other times I think about if he’s found someone… and though it makes me sad I do wish that for him. I hoped for a different outcome between us but eventually it became clear that we just weren’t fit each other. He’s just become a memory… but one that I’m grateful for.

A few lessons I’ve learned from this…

It's not my job to:

- Heal others.

- Please others at my expense.

- Make it work if the effort isn't mutual.

- Continuously compromise.

- Anticipate anyones needs.

- Change myself to anyones liking.

When getting to know someone:

- Be my true authentic self.

- Respect myself and my time.

- Love with no excuses.

- Move with genuine intentions.

- Set healthy boundaries that protect my energy.

- Leave when I’m not being valued.

- Say "No" when it's not in alignment.

- Be mindful with my "Yes".

Just a message…

Do not be so afraid to feel love or pain.. you will feel them both at their heights and you WILL BE OKAY 💜

[bensolosbluesaber]

Returning a Favor (Zemo x Reader fic)

TFATWS Ep. 4 Spoilers!!

Summary: When your old friend, Sam Wilson, needs your help in Riga you drop everything and go. You knew they broke Baron Helmut Zemo out of jail, but you didn't expect to bond with the villain. (AKA: I thought getting hit in the face by the Shield would at least leave a bruise. Here's how that would go down with a fourth person.)

CW: Blood, wounds, some creepy behavior (not from Zemo), a few Y/N inserts

No smut yet, just cute cuddles and taking care of each other. Maybe smut in the future though! Let me know if you want a Part 2 or added to a tag list for potential future fics! I think the reader can be any gender; I tried to write it that way and be inclusive, but please tell me if I messed up!

If you know me in real life, no you don't:) I write most of my fics on @aurora521 and write on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same name. Please don't come for me about finding Zemo attractive.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Returning a Favor

Meet me in Riga. -S

That was the text you received from Sam Wilson, your old military friend, yesterday. And now here you are, outside the Riga airport walking toward Sam in traditional undercover superhero attire- a baseball hat and sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted. “We have a little problem.”

“Is his name Baron Helmut Zemo by chance?” You asked, following him to a jet black sports car.

You were very aware of just what type of trouble Sam was getting himself into since you, a SWORD agent, still had access to all kinds of classified information.

“See for yourself,” Sam muttered, gesturing to the back door of the car and climbing in the driver's seat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and slid into the back. And yes, Zemo was there, lounging back with legs spread. He’s wearing a long coat with fur lining, a deep purple shirt, black pants, and shiny leather shoes. He nods to you and smirks ever so slightly. Bucky Barnes, who you had only heard about but recognized immediately, turns from his spot in the front seat and smiles at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N,” he says.

“And I you,” you respond.

Sam pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The ride is mostly silent, Sam and Bucky bickering occasionally. That made you smile, knowing that as much as Bucky annoyed Sam, this was the type of relationship he craved. Zemo watched you the entire drive, sizing you up.

The home they’re staying at is obviously the Baron's. He’s comfortable there, leaning against the counters, rifling through cabinets, lounging on the couch.

“So what am I doing here?” You finally asked.

The three men interact easily, and either Sam or Bucky is always watching Zemo. There’s no real need for a fourth person to get involved, at least not in your mind.

“Someone needs to babysit the Baron,” Sam explained with an annoyed sigh.

Zemo shrugged with a smirk so innocent it’s sinister. He’s still wearing that ridiculous coat.

“The two Avengers can’t handle him?”

“I believe your friends find it challenging to be around me,” Zemo answered for Sam.

“You shot a man in the head yesterday!” Sam snapped. “You antagonize Bucky at every turn. Forgive us for needing a break from whatever is happening in your fucked up head.”

Zemo tilts his head as if agreeing with everything Sam had just said.

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. “We have a lead on Karli. You can sleep off some jet lag while we’re gone, but starting tonight it’s your turn to keep track of him.”

You settled into a small bedroom. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. At home it’s nearly ten at night; here it’s midday.

The trio is back all too soon, heralded by a slam of a door, and you force yourself to wake up to adjust to the time change as rapidly and effectively as possible. As you open the door to the living room, Bucky is stalking toward Zemo. He grabs the teacup from Zemo’s hand and hurls it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, staring at Zemo with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him,” Sam jumped up and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly. Zemo stops tilting his head.

“Let me make a call,” Sam says and walks away.

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offers Bucky with a mocking tone.

“No. You go ahead,” Bucky hissed, and after a moment of staring, he followed Sam out of the room.

You had watched Zemo for that entire exchange, noticed the slightest flinch and hint of fear when Bucky had grabbed that cup. The moment the other two men are gone and Zemo thinks he’s alone, he pours himself another cup. His hand is steady, but he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.

You move out of the room, and Zemo looks up at you from his spot on the couch. Without a word, you walk into the kitchen, taking a roll of paper towels and carefully picking up the shattered glass.

“I can do that,” Zemo says, speaking directly to you for the first time.

His voice is calm, accent thick.

“It’s alright,” you answer, then gasp sharply as a piece slices your pointer finger from tip to palm. “Fuck.”

You set the bloody piece with the pile of glass and hold a paper towel to your hand. You used the other hand to wipe tea off the wall and floor before picking up the glass piled on a paper towel and placing it in the trash, carefully tucked in other garbage.

“Let me.”

Zemo’s voice behind you makes you jump. You eye him for a moment wondering if there is some ulterior motive, some way he could hurt you or hold you hostage. Nothing comes to mind, not with Sam and Bucky so close, so you hold out your bleeding hand. He clicks his tongue at the wound.

When he takes your hand in his, his fingers are soft and warm. He moves your wound under a faucet and lets water run, rinsing the blood down the sink. He squeezes the wound a bit, and you wince as it begins to bleed more.

“We bleed to clean our wounds. It is the body’s way of protecting itself,” he says and presses a towel to your finger as he shuts off the water. “Ironic isn’t it. The very thing meant to protect us from future danger, often kills us first.”

“I’m not here to debate the ethics of superheroes with you.”

“Hold that,” he lets go of your hand and opens another cabinet. “I know how I feel about enhanced humans. There is nothing for me to debate.”

Zemo takes your hand back in his. You watch his face as he works. He uses his mouth to remove the wrapping from a butterfly bandage. The bleeding has slowed, and he uses the bandage to pull your torn skin back together. The cut isn’t terrible, certainly not the worst injury you’ve ever had, but it will scar. He adds two more strips, then places an absorbent pad over it and wraps it all in gauze.

“When we get back, I’ll change that for you.”

“I’ll hope you don’t get killed then,” you offer with a grateful smile.

He doesn’t respond but gestures to you to join on the couch. You do, keeping what you feel is a safe distance between the two of you. Zemo hands you a cup of warm tea, but as you grab it, he doesn’t let go. Your undamaged fingers brush his for a long moment and he chuckles.

“Promise not to take after your friend James? I quite like this tea set.”

Your eyebrows knit together as he smiles at his own joke and finally surrenders the cup to you. That’s the last words you two exchange, and when Bucky and Sam return ready for the next part of the mission, they find the two of you sitting in silence sharing a pot of tea.

___

When the three men returned, Sam and Bucky held an unconscious Zemo between them. You jumped off the couch, the book you had been reading discarded, and let them lay Zemo down.

“What happened?”

“John Walker,” the two men answered in the same disgusted tone.

You leaned over Zemo, finally seeing the blood and bruise on his right temple.

“This one disappeared for a few minutes, shot Karli-”

“Didn’t kill her,” Sam interrupted, sounding relieved.

Much like Sam, you sympathized with Karli’s motives if not her methods. And much like Sam, you were glad she hadn’t died.

“Then Walker knocked him out with the shield,” Bucky finished.

There was no jab at Sam this time for which you were grateful.

“Which is the only useful thing he did,” Sam added. “Zemo destroyed the rest of the serum, so right now he’s above Walker in my book.”

You looked down at Zemo, blood had dripped down his face and neck, though most of it was dried now. His eyelids twitched as he slept.

“Are you two okay?” You asked as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Fine. We ditched Walker, but we’ll need to get out of here as soon as we figure out what to do with Karli,” Sam answered, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.

You dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and on your way back to the living room, grabbed the first aid kit Zemo had used on you earlier.

“What are you doing? He’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered.

He was sitting next to Sam now.

“Returning a favor,” you answered as you knelt at Zemo’s side.

You dabbed at the drying blood with the cloth, wiping it off his cheek, out of his hair. Somehow the coat came out unscathed. Sam and Bucky were talking about something behind you, but you were entirely focused on the unconscious man.

Zemo had a handsome, aristocratic face, and he walked like royalty, like he was untouchable. This was evidence he wasn’t.

You moved to the actual wound next. The cloth was soft, unreasonably so. A large hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing tightly. You inhale sharply and shift your gaze to Zemo’s hand then his eyes. When your eyes met his, he seemed to relax, releasing you and letting his hand fall at his side.

“Apologies,” he grunted, mouth twitching with pain.

“It’s alright,” you answer calmly, very aware that the other men had stopped talking and were fixated on a potential threat. “Turn your head please.”

You put a hand on his cheek and turned him to face you to get a better look at the wound that was still seeping slowly.

“The new Captain America might force me to reconsider my stance on superheroes. I would enjoy seeing Sam and James have a go at him,” Zemo said as you prod the wound.

You wiped the cut with antiseptic, and Zemo hissed a bit at that but said nothing. Then, just like he had done to you, you placed three butterfly bandages on the cut. It wasn’t deep, just long and jagged.

“You’re my new favorite,” he joked with a little grin.

You laughed and walked to the kitchen for some ice. There were no packs, so you grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and set it gently on Zemo’s temple.

“I can’t have you dying when I need this changed tonight,” you said, holding up a finger.

When you turned around, Sam and Bucky had both stretched out on the couch. They both wore annoyed expressions that Zemo got a whole couch and they got one to share. Bucky bumped Sam’s foot with his own, much to your amusement and Sam’s annoyance. He kicked his partner back, and you decided not to interrupt their little couples spat. Instead, you move to sit on the ground.

Zemo grabbed your wrist again, this time gently. He tucked his legs up, folding them into a V, and motioned you to share his couch. And you did, sitting in the same spot you had earlier, this time near his feet still clad in shiny black leather shoes.

“Hey, you two,” Sam called. “What’s this cozy little couch situation going on here?”

“You two could have a cozy little couch situation too if you’d just talk to each other,” Zemo shot back.

He didn’t even look at Sam, just held the frozen vegetables to his face, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Zemo asked after a moment. “Can you get me an Advil? Or better yet, some sort of alcoholic beverage?”

“I’m not your servant, Zemo,” you sighed but stood and poured him a glass of some expensive alcohol from a bottle with Sokovian writing.

He sipped it, setting it on his chest between sips as he lounged on the couch with you. Bucky was watching you out the corner of his eye, and you were watching Zemo. Every few sips he would grimace, his lips pressing together and chest catching. Then he’d relax, exhale softly and shift the peas back into place. Eventually you picked up your book and began to read again.

Sam left the room to take a phone call a few hours later and came back shaking.

“Karli threatened Sarah, my nephews. I have to meet with her. Alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky jumped in, already on his feet. “Walker will be there, and you can’t handle the Super Soldiers and Captain Propaganda on your own.”

Zemo was either asleep or doing a good job pretending beside you. The pea bag had been returned to the freezer. He’d discarded his coat and was now wearing only his black pants and a deep purple shirt with shoulder holsters.

“You got him?” Sam pointed to the sleeping man.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you answered, setting the book aside and watching them prepare to leave.

Both men donned their costumes, Sam strapping his wings on, Bucky ripping the sleeve off of yet another jacket so his metal arm could move freely.

“Call me- us if you need backup,” you shouted after them, knowing full well they would do no such thing.

“If we aren’t back in two hours, take his ass back to jail,” Bucky called back.

Baron Zemo woke up the minute the door slammed shut, which made you doubt he’d been sleeping at all.

“And now it is only us,” he said in that thick Sokovian accent. “I will cook us something for dinner.”

He moved into the kitchen, boiling a pot of water while you watched. You perched yourself on the counter near him as he searched through cabinets. When he noticed you, he paused and chuckled before returning to the cooking. You watched in silence, keeping a close eye on him when he picked up a knife and began chopping tomatoes from a can.

He handed you a bowl of thin noodles with a thick red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“A traditional and simple Sokovian dish, a comfort food you might say,” he explained and joined you on the counter. “I made enough for Sam and James. Call me an optimist.”

Zemo didn’t talk much, you realized, as you enjoyed the food in silence. It was delicious, a bit like pasta. Suddenly, the back door clicked open. You glance around nervously, realizing just how wrong this felt.

“They shouldn’t be back yet,” you say quietly. “And they wouldn’t come in the back.”

“My old associates must have found me,” Zemo jumps off the table, and you notice the same nervousness as when Bucky threw the cup. He cannot know about James or Sam.”

You can hear a single person strolling toward the kitchen in heavy boots.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Zemo whispered, and before you could even process the words, he was standing between your legs and pressing his lips to yours.

His movements are slow and careful, trying not to be invasive as he moves his hands to your back, sliding one up to the back of your head. You wrap an arm around his waist and slide the other hand up the front of his purple shirt, splaying your fingers across his chest. His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling away, not that you’d want to.

“I heard you were back in Riga,” a new voice chuckled. “I had to see for myself.”

Zemo pulls back, feigning surprise, but kept an arm protectively around you.

“And as you have undoubtedly noticed, I am quite busy,” he replied. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I’d prefer not to discuss our business in front of…”

Zemo nods to you. You were staring at the man who you recognized from work files. He was a former Shield agent. When Shield fell, he used the chaos for his own advantage, working for neither Shield nor Hydra and killing anyone who stood in his way. You suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that some of your best friends had been killed by him. Fortunately, you had enough self-control not to shoot him. His mere presence made you tense and uncomfortable.

“Of course, Baron,” he grinned and look at you in a way that made you shift closer to Zemo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, noon. The usual place.”

He gave the two of you one last look and left with a wink to Zemo. Even when the other man had gone, Zemo’s hands were still holding you against him.

“We will have to be gone before noon tomorrow,” he said looking down at you.

For some reason, you were both still wrapped around each other.

“You know who he is?” Zemo said, a statement masquerading as a question. “I am sorry.”

Your face was only inches from him, and you could smell his cologne. Zemo used the hand on your head to pull you against his shoulder. You set your head there, face turned into his neck, and inhaled deeply. And there he sat and you stood, hugging tightly for no real reason except that no one else was there.

Zemo pressed a soft kiss to your head, and rather than protest you let his lips linger. Finally, his head fell on your shoulder. After a moment, he slid you off the counter, took your hand, and led you back to the couch. Without asking, the two of you settled together on the couch, so close your sides pressed against each other. He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster, and you froze until he set it down on the table, smirking a little.

“I don’t make a habit of shooting people I’ve just kissed,” he chuckled and raised an arm for you to lean against him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness. You shouldn’t be, after all, he had just kissed you and held you on the counter of his kitchen. Helmut Zemo made no sense to you, but in the end, you curled against him. He shifted to lay on his back, head propped on the pillows he was laying on earlier while you tucked yourself beside him, head on his chest.

Zemo wrapped an arm around you. You put a hand on his chest, fingering the purple shirt. He was warm and soft, and you had to remind yourself that you could not fall asleep while you are supposed to be watching him.

“Why are we doing this?” You whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Zemo turns his head toward you.

“I haven’t had someone to do this with in a long time,” you answer slowly, cautiously, knowing full well this was a man who could turn on you on an instant or hold onto information until the moment it was advantageous to him.

“Neither have I,” He replied. “German prisons don’t allow much physical contact. Besides, I hope that with enough time perhaps I may kiss you again.”

You tilted your head up to see a grin tugging at the side of his lips, lips that had been on yours a few minutes ago.

“Maybe with enough time,” you answer and brush a lose strand of hair out of his eyes, letting your hand trail over the bruise on his face.

He caged your hand in his, bringing your joined hands back to his chest and holding them there. You felt the rise and fall of his breaths and it soothed you. When they grew deep and steady and the tension seemed to fall from his body, you realized he was truly asleep, not faking like earlier. Soon and against your better judgment, you were dozing off in his arms tossing a leg over his so your limbs tangled together.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was how warm and comfortable you felt with Helmut Zemo, and how completely ludicrous such a thought was.

It wasn’t long before the door opening woke you, still secure in Zemo’s arms. You tried to move, sit up so Sam and Bucky wouldn’t see this little arrangement. You failed. Bucky came in first, stopping in his tracks as he saw the scene on the couch.

“What are you doing? Keep walk- what?” Sam ran right into Bucky’s back then froze.

Their eyes were wide as they stared. Zemo shifted awake beneath you, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. Bucky’s metal fist clenched, and Sam, ever the peacemaker grabbed his arm and opted for a more amicable approach.

“One of you better start talking.”

[dreamcatcherrs]

august - ranboo x reader

+ disclaimer! I don't know if ranboo actually has a cat :)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ranboo x f!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ranboo can’t help but to blush every time you look at him, not realising that he was falling even harder for you than he realised.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.478

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :)

song recommendation: august - taylor swift

the first time he’d spotted you was in science class, near the end of the school year. that one time you looked up and smiled at him because of something stupid he’d said to his friend, that you for some reason found funny - he couldn’t stop thinking of that smile for the rest of the day. the image of you stuck in his head.

the next time he saw you was in p.e. you were wearing those pretty red sports shorts that you always wore, but he for some reason had never noticed until now. and whenever you’d walk or run past him, the smell of vanilla would follow behind you, filling his nostrils with the scent, and it felt heavenly. from that day on, he decided that he really liked the smell of vanilla.

weeks went by before you first talked to him. you were sat behind him and had poked his shoulder to ask him if he had a spare pencil for you to borrow. he breathed in, eyes wide from surprise. were you talking to him? it was only when you tilted your head to the side with a playful smile on your face that he realised he’d been zoned out, completely forgetting that he had to respond.

“uh- yeah, sure.” he’d fumbled with his backpack, trying to fish out his pencil case only to remember… he didn't have one. he moved his hands back again, looking back up at you as you leaned over the table with a patient smile on your face. “uhm… actually, I don't have one either.”

that made you laugh, and he was just confused, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. “well, I guess I can't really complain about that,” you giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m y/n, by the way. we have science together, I just don't think we ever got the chance to talk.” he grabbed the hand you’d put out to shake, staring into your bright eyes as you shook his hand. were there stars in your eyes? it looked like there was a whole other universe in there.

“I guess not-”

“hey, you two. eyes up here.” mr. jefferson, you douche-

“sorry mr. jefferson!” you apologised, before turning to send him a playful smile. as if you two had a secret that no one else knew about. he wondered if that smile was always able to get you out of trouble. he thought about it for a while as mr. jefferson explained the different historic sculptures, and then came to the conclusion, that no one could be mad at a person with such a smile for very long.

“aww, you never told me you had a kitty!”

he threw his backpack onto the arm chair in his living room, letting out an exasperated sigh as you followed behind him, or rather, followed his cat behind him. he turned around to see you crouched down beside his cat, softly petting it  with the cutest smile on your face.

“yeah. pretty cute, right?” he joined you by petting the purring creature, heart bubbling with how cute the sight in front of him was. he wasn't just talking about the cat.

“well, should we get started?” you asked, shrugging your own backpack off and getting out a small notebook. he’d noticed you wrote in it a couple of times during the class before.

you’d both been assigned for a science project together - what a coincidence. he wasn't complaining though - not at all. you’d had fun times together in class since, now being sat beside each other. you’d gone to his place to put in some extra work ethic. “you’re lucky I actually like science! then we’ll get some work done.”

you plopped down on his couch, taking in the comfiness for a moment, before fishing out your computer. “are you implying something?” you giggled at his question, lifting a finger at him.

“that I do all of the work in science class while you sit and stare at me? yes.”

a wave of heat flooded over him, cheeks and ears turning red and his palms sweating up. was it that obvious?

you patted the spot on the couch beside you for him to sit down, a small smile etched onto your face. he did so, finding a comfortable way to sit in before looking over at your computer screen. you turned you head to him, scooting closer when you noticed he could barely see your screen. as if that would help his sweaty armpits and rosy cheeks���

“okay, do you remember our lesson about polar and non-polar electronegativity?” his face was blank. the words were foreign to him. was that the day you wore that pink lipstick? or did he just think that because he thought it looked so good on you?

you rolled your eyes playfully at his lack of response, proceeding to point at the screen and explain to him what it means. he listened to start off with, but then soon realised that his thoughts had drifted off to another place, eyes gazing over to look at you instead of the screen. and instead of listening, he started thinking about the way your lips moved - how cute and perfect they were. and how much he wanted to kiss them.

he lost his train of thought when you turned your head to him again, a frown on your face when noticing how lost in thought he was, clearly not paying attention, yet your look of disbelief quickly turned into a surprised expression. was he looking at you?

“you’re not listening.”

he looked bewildered for a moment, but quickly managed to clear his throat awkwardly, eyes turning to the screen again. “sorry.”

you began to explain again, and this time he only glanced over at you once when... was that blush on your cheeks?

the first time he kissed you was one month later, summer break. you were at the local park, basking in the rays of sun as the summer was soon to end. the smell of freshly mowed grass was all that filled your nostrils, and the fresh breeze every now and then was enough to keep you from melting under the heat of the sun.

you were sat at a nice waterfall, your backs turned towards it as you ate the sandwiches you had just bought. the sound of water trickling out of the different places on the statue was pleasant for your ears, peaceful really.

he’d gone to push his longer hair out of his face, and then rest his hand beside him, in the middle of the two of you. but instead of meeting a cold surface, his hand met your soft one, that was already resting right where he was about to put his hand.

he heard you gasp softly, head turning to look down at your hands. he looked back at you with wide eyes, which you quickly returned when realizing what had happened, a rosy colour spreading over your cheeks. and right then, he couldn’t help himself. he knew you hadn’t known each other for that long, but he knew you. and he for sure knew that he liked you.

as your eyes stared into his, head slightly leaning in, he kissed you. soft and sweet and short, and when he pulled back again, your eyes were closed and you didn’t look displeased at all. and that’s when he knew, you liked him, too.

“ranboo, I swear, if you rest your arm on my head one more time!”

he laughed at your small threat, removing his arm from its comfortable place on the top of your head. he ruffled your hair, just to annoy you, with a playful smirk on his face. you pouted at him, fixing your hair again and softly shoving at his chest.

“fine~ I’ll stop. you’re just so short, it’s hard not to,” he giggled, patting the top of your head lightly as he smiled down at you brightly.

“maybe you should just be shorter. then I won't have to get on my toes all the time to kiss you.” you crossed your arms, staring up at him with a smirk on your face.

he shrugged. “nah. I kinda like seeing you struggle with that.”

you rolled your eyes and let out a low grumble, acting like a kid who was just told they weren't allowed any candy. before you knew it, a dandelion was pushed back into your hair, followed suit by a quick peck on your cheek. your lips parted in surprise, eyes staring up at him again, before reaching your hand up to gently touch the flower, a small smile spreading across your face.

“now,” he started, leaning down to intertwine his fingers with yours. “shall we go out to enjoy the last day of august?”

_____________________________________

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[cannoli-reader]

Sigh. Okay, fine. I will reluctantly accept the request to talk on the intersection of two of my favorite subjects, I am just that nice.

I am somewhat curious as to what people think ta'veren is. How is it unjust that the girls are not, and the boys are? The OP seems to think that it is both a quality, as defined by Nynaeve's circumstances in the story, and also a power or status, that not having it is somehow a wrong done to those who are so deprived.

So making her a ta'veren is going to rectify a wrong. Fine. What does she do in the sixteen episodes we now have released, that indicates she is ta'veren? How is it any more than just a label?

Because non-ta'veren Nynaeve is an important person in Emond's Field, and makes a strong impression on people, and is important to the other Two Rivers kids, she is an active participant in the story, being critical to the rescue of Perrin & Egwene from the Children of the Light, demonstrating her competence and capability in following and catching up with the group in Baerlon, participating in the rescues, evading capture by the Seanchan and rescuing Egwene, while her actions in that rescue have further-reaching effects, bringing Bayle Domon into her orbit and providing the means for Mat & co to smuggle Aes Sedai out of Seanchan territory. She wins Lan's love and he demonstrates respect for her abilities, and for her person, refusing to offer her a relationship he sees himself as unable to fulfil as she deserves, but also giving her his ring as a token to use in his name, which she will eventually do to save him. Moiraine also attributes Nynaeve inspiring Lan to help Rand.

Whereas "ta'veren" Nynaeve exercises little to no authority in the village. She is, at most, a participant in the pointlessly dangerous & irrelevant coming of age ceremony for a young woman. She has no sign of a constituency ready to back her office, nor any role in the major, village-wide events. Her medical knowledge is not demonstrated until relatively late, and at best, maybe stabilizes her one patient for a few hours until she is Healed, and her medical ethics are appalling. Her channeling feats are flukes she is unable to consciously repeat, the other villagers give her scant thought, treat her like a joke, or ignore her, Lan shows her no respect, manhandles her, ties her up easily, treats her like a feral animal he is housebreaking, sleeps with her, and dumps her the next morning with the excuse that he's too busy for a relationship, and has no relationship with Rand, and no more than one private conversation with him. Nynaeve does jack-all in Falme, after being knocked unconscious and carried there like a sack of potatoes, escaping the Seanchan only by writer-mandated stupidity. A random Aes Sedai & Warder do all the heavy lifting and get a dramatic last stand while Nynaeve watches helplessly. Their attempted rescue of Egwene amounts to a wet fart and Nynaeve flails about helplessly when Elayne is injured and then serves as a human crutch to get Elayne to her meet-cute with her love interest, so the Daughter-heir can Heal Rand's Wound of Evil. Also, what there is of their plan is carried out after Elayne rebukes Nynaeve for her failures and bad attitude and announces she is taking over. Her royal authority is what inspires Loial to tell them Egwene's location. Nynaeve is basically useless, and Elayne's baggage.

Is this justice? Does getting the meaningless label of ta'veren make up for having every on-page achievement stripped from her, generally to be given to lighter-skinned characters?

And for the record, ta'veren does not mean being involved in random insane bullshit. It is a person designated by the Pattern as a corrective mechanism to fix a trend of events going off-course. It manifests, in this Age, at least, by inspiring connections among people, bringing them together despite the difference in societal position, nationality or lesser loyalties. Because the world is going awry, humanity is fading, and the institutions established to protect it are, instead, dividing humanity, and preventing cooperation. That's why each canonical ta'veren builds a power base that is unique to himself, that did not exist before the story starts. Rand is Car'a'carn of the Aiel, and uses that to enforce his will on the wetlands, he leads a coalition of rival nations and peoples previously hostile to one another, starting with Tear, and then roping in their three greatest enemies, plus the Aiel. He also establishes the Black Tower, founds an academy that revolutionizes transportation, creates the Legion of the Dragon, and allows the warrior societies to emerge in Cairhien. Arguably, his actions set in motion a chain of events that will arm the forces of the Light with gunpowder weaponry at Tarmon Gaidon. Mat founds a multi-national private army which proves instrumental in saving Cairhien from the Shaido, unifying Murandy and preventing a succession crisis in the Seanchan Empire, while revolutionizing military organization and armaments. Perrin is acclaimed lord of the Two Rivers, becomes liege lord of Ghealdan, and leads a multinational (seeing a pattern here?) army to eradicate the Shaido and make an impression on the Seanchan would-be conquerors.

Meanwhile the girls rise to power and affect society entirely through pre-existing institutions, namely, the White Tower and established monarchies. All three of them act as Aes Sedai for most of the series, with Egwene's power base being the authority of the Amyrlin Seat as established in Tower law, Elayne's being the Queenship of Andor, again, as established by the laws of the nation, and Nynaeve, when she bothers with lesser things like politics, does so on her authority as the Queen-consort of Malkier, based on Malkieri traditions and dedication to fighting the Shadow. They use their power and positions in revolutionary ways, and make enormous reforms, but the fact is, each of the leading female characters takes control of an existing ship to steer on a new course, while the three ta'veren build their own vessels. As is ever the case in WoT, the two approaches complement each other, without one being better or more significant than the other. The boys need to be ta'veren because they are marginalized outsiders. Nynaeve is an outsider, but she is not marginalized, and as a woman who can channel, and was trained to hold a position of leadership from adolescence, is separated from the power structure only by an accident of birth. She slots right in nicely once she makes contact with said structure.

I'm basically supportive of the show's decision to make Nynaeve and Egwene ta'veren, to match the three boys. But I feel like among the fandom, there's a divergence in rationale for the change.

For me, it makes sense because Nynaeve has basically always been ta'veren (even more than Egwene). How much random insane bullshit has Nynaeve gotten herself into that she barely managed to get out of? (Randomly running into Moghedien in Tanchico, being the one to knock Birgitte from TAR, being in the right frame of mind to cure Stilling, and so-on).

For a lot of others, I get this sense of "that Nynaeve and Egwene are not ta'veren is unjust and makes them less than the boys". And thus, making them ta'veren rights some sort of fundamental wrong in the story.

[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.