#it's applicable to all of them so why not

[notlhecxzsa]

The Shade Of Harkness - A.H

Summary: Finally, the day has come for you to have an interview in the company your friend has applied you to. Almost flying away from the known notorious CEO, Agatha Harkness, you were caught in her orbit—and you don't even know it yet. Was it an accident that you also saw her in your workplace, the one you told her you work on? No, maybe it wasn't. Just like how you saw her again at your school.

Author's Note: Happy holidays! Here's the first chapter of CEO!AgathaXFem!reader, mweheheh. Hope you'll like it! Again, this is inspired of 50 Shades Of Grey, so you might see some preference and familiar lines along!

Warnings: Cursing, stalking (but, y/n doesn't have to know that, right?), not that much for now, a little weirdo agatha (what's a dark fic if she's not weird), SIMP AGATHA

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3rd Person's POV:

"The 5th interviewee will come up in 5, Agatha..." Wanda called out to her boss—who she could also call a friend, peeking her head through the unreasonable huge doors of the room when she was met by a wide view of the expensive city through the big windows behind the woman who was sitting in the middle of the room.

"Hmm..." Wanda rolled her eyes at the answer she received, already used to it as the right hand of one of the woman who seemed to be colder as the ice in Antarctica and harder than the stone that littered on the moon.

Agatha finished what she was reading as Wanda closed the door, almost rolling her eyes at the thought of another stupid presence to float in her orbit. Shame on Wanda for even thinking an assistant would do her any good—unfortunately, the countless employees who ran out crying from her office were not enough for Wanda.

After putting the red head in a higher position, she refused to be Agatha's part time assistant. Knowing that Agatha wouldn't fire her for declining the demand of the job, Maximoff won.

"Y/L/N?..." Y/n snapped her head from looking at the direction where an interviewee had come running to— crying as she did so, to the red head who has been the one managing them all. Ms. Maximoff, whom she learned her name of, was a beautiful red head dressed in a very professional dress, making her feel so self conscious.

All of them here are so beautiful, so professional that Y/n thought she'd only fit in and get a job of a cleaner. Shaking her thoughts away, she stood up, clad in her jeans, comfortable sandals and a cute plain blouse that was covered by a blue cardigan. God, why did she even let Miya send an application to this kind of company?

"Ms. Harkness will meet you now." The warm welcoming smile almost made Y/n feel a little less scared, she was the last one and so, she entered the hug doors that was held open by Ms. Maximoff with little to no hope in her heart.

She offered a small nod and a small nervous smile in return, gripping her bag in front of her as if she was trying to hide from the fatal truth that she has no chance in this and probably just wasted her time driving for almost an hour just to get here.

Before she could even appreciate the view that was laid out in front of her, she tripped and landed on the floor, with the door already closed, she didn't have Ms. Maximoff coming towards her to help her up. Only the sound of heels marching towards her is what she was met with. Immediately looking up with a flustered face, she saw the woman who she'd only seen on billboards and countless news and articles.

She was wearing a noticeably expensive red suit, that Y/n could confirm. Without even thinking anymore, she scrambled up on her feet, already standing up to take the hand that was supposed to help her up and shook it, almost cursing herself with how her hands trembled and felt cold.

Y/n could feel a shiver ran down her spine at the striking look she received from those blue eyes. Great! Just great, now she has more reason to run away and never look back from this place.

"Ms. Y/L/N?" Even her voice sounded so expensive, Y/n thought as she she stammered for the answer she could barely offer the woman.

"Y-yes..." Immediately clearing her throat, the flush in her face was already spreading on her neck. "Yes, Ms. Harkness." Swallowing the lump on her throat, she saw how the woman's gaze stayed on her face with something she couldn't fathom before it went down to their hands that are still entwined. "Oh..." She almost inaudibly let out before pulling away, keeping her gaze down on the floor.

"Come sit." Looking up, she saw that Ms. Harkness was already walking away from her and towards the big and once again, expensive office table in the middle of the room that Y/n wished to take her time exploring her eyes on.

Y/n waited until the woman was sat, waiting for her to motion to her that she can start introducing herself. She couldn't help but to analyze the woman in front of her. She looked so much more beautiful than the pictures she'd seen online, she's breathtaking.

Once again, feeling conscious about how she looked like, her gaze snapped down on what she was wearing, swallowing the invisible rock that seemed to be stuck in her throat.

"Do you want me to wait for you until you're done checking yourself or what?" Y/n eyes widen as her head snapped up faster that any human could to face the woman.

"I-I... I'm sorry, Ms. Harkness..." Clearing her throat, she saw how the woman opened the envelope that she gave to Ms. Maximoff earlier that contains everything about her. Deciding that it was her sign to start introducing herself, she inhaled before starting to talk.

"I'm Y/n Y/l/n, I'm currently graduating for college and I applied in your company hoping for it to give me a certain experience that I will need for when I start working." Gazing at the older woman's face, Y/n could feel her heart trying to escape her chest as she noticed the woman's eyes scanning the whole application form.

"And what exactly are you expecting from my company..." Before Y/n could even continue, Ms. Harkness spoke up, trailing off as she slowly gaze back up at the young woman's face. "Ms. Y/l/n?" She saw how she swallowed for the nth time ever since she came here, Agatha's gaze trailing from her neck up to her lips as she started talking.

"Uh... I know how big your company is, Ms. Harkness and so I do expect that you will give me a job that would make me credible for any position that I would want to have in the future. I can do so many things..." Y/n could feel her throat tightening with how the woman was gazing at her face—like she knows all her secrets, all her problems and all that she is. "I uh... I worked before, in a coffee shop... uhm, I also joined in a lot of organizations from high school and until now..." She tried to find some more things to say, her voice trailing off only to think of nothing when the older woman stood up slowly, her head moving up at the same pace.

She watched as the woman sauntered in front of her slowly. "Hmm? Tell me more of what you can do, Ms. Y/l/n. I'm sure my company—well, I, could give you experiences you've never done before... and you could use in the future." Y/n could feel the heat from earlier now boiling with an anticipation bubbling up inside her, one she couldn't name what kind.

Stopping in front of the table, leaning her lower part on it, Agatha crossed her arms, looking down at the girl who seemed to have caught her attention more that she intended to give a person. "W-well, I also write books... uhm, I am currently working as an employee in a hardware shop. And now, I am looking for a more... compatible job for the course I'm taking and for my future job, which I-..." Y/n shrugged, looking down as if her next words makes her feel shy.

Maybe that was the reason, or maybe it was because she couldn't handle holding the gaze of the woman in front of her anymore. "... I hopefully get."

"Hmm..." Squinting, Agatha, exhaled. "You don't seem too... sure about your... future." It sounded like she was mocking her, and if it weren't for the nervousness that Y/n was feeling, she would've thought about that.

Looking up through lashes, Y/n bit her lip as she tempted what to tell the woman, not noticing how Agatha's fist seemed to be tightened up beneath her arms that was crossed. "I am currently taking a Psychology course... I am sure of it... it's just that..." Seeing the serious attention she was getting from the woman, Y/n continued.

"My parents never really... supported it. So now, I'm hoping for a flexible experience when I can still use my degree on for when I apply for a job in the future." Y/n doesn't seem to notice it, but as she let out an information she never knew she'd be getting out in this, the weight on her shoulder flew away little by little as she continued.

"They kept... thinking that Psychology isn't a good start on having the perfect life they wished for me to have, but, it was what I wanted so I went with it. I know it wasn't just about mental care just like what they always think about... but, sometimes I just hope they supported me a little more." Biting her lips, she looked down, not wanting to witness the pitiful look that she would always receive from Miya, her friend whenever she would talk about that.

But, she doubt Ms. Harkness would even give her such thing.

You do know your parents loves you yo death, and they make you feel that, always. You just wished sometimes that they are better when it comes to the things you wanted, such as taking that course where you see yourself being in the future.

"Stop biting your lip." A small frown of confusion appeared on her face as she looked up at the woman in front of her again.

Still biting her lip, Agatha took her time scanning the younger girl's face. Her eyes held an amusement she never inteded to give as her lips was in a thin line that almost gave away what she was thinking.

It wasn't often that people would open up personal things like that with Agatha, but whow as she to compalin when she was the one who asked of it. Just confused with how easily the girl seemed to be talking to Agatha with everything, the woman felt a little surprised.

"You should not think of what the others though of you... what you do." Agatha shrugged, uncrossing her arms before putting both of it on her side, her palms flat on the table as she crossed her foot. "Your destiny is what you want it to be..." Gazing at the girl who was looking at her that made her feel an unknown... warmth. A familiarity she wasn't familiar with.

An unexplainable feeling of unknown.

"Your future is yours to hold and make." She finishes, still gazing deeply in your fac, as if she was trying to remember every part of it like how she did in the many application forms that fell on her desk.

The 2x2 professional picture on your application form did not do you any mercy, that she could confirm.

"Well... they're my parents." There was a sudden small chuckle that came out of your mouth as if what she said makes you laugh.

"And? Are they the ones who will make your future for you, Y/l/n? The ones who will do the hard work while you offer your life to a boss that doesn't show you an ounce of appreciation? They are your parents, but they are just your parents, and you... you hold what you will be." Agatha said so casually, she almost wanted to stop talking when she became self aware of how personal the conversation are seeming to become.

But, with those eyes that seemed to be catching every word that came out of her mouth, those wandering eyes that seemed be so... sparkling with so much wonder than the world had intended it to be. She couldn't stop, as if your attention caught her tounge... and it makes her seek more of it.

"I guess, I just... care about them too much..." Y/n said, as if she's talking herself.

There was a moment of silence, as you both hold your gaze. Agatha could tell that you were lost, seeing the gears running inside your head to process what she just said. She couldn't help but take her time on scanning your face once more, analyzing too deeply than she intended herself to do.

Too deep that she had ever done.

The line that was invisible in the atmosphere above you that seemed to be getting longer in each moment, was cut short by the knock in the door. Only your head snapping to it, only to see Ms. Maximoff's head and half body poking through it.

Out from the trance you were in, but your attention on the certain red head, the pair of eyes that was burning holes on the side of your head weny unnoticed by you.

"Time's up, the next interviewee will come see you now-" She was cut off by the voice that seemed to be less cold earlier when talking to you.

"Cancel it, we're not done yet." Seeing how the red head's eyes narrowed in wonder, you cleared your throat and got up.

"N-no, it's... it's fine, Ms. Harkness." Looking back at the woman, you almost flinched with how she was looking at you. As if right there and then, she knew that you were the one who ate Miya's cake from the fridge last saturday night. "I can go now-"

Agatha's head turned to Wanda, dismissing you as she stood up straight. "Cancel all the remaining interviews. I'll tell you when we're done." She said, only to receive a nod from the red head that held a hopefull gaze.

The gaze you didn't noticed as you stood there, all your attention on the woman in front of you. Just then, you noticed the height difference between that both of you, how she overtowered your small frame and how her scent invaded your senses.

You hands trembled as it hold the strap of your bag, not knowing what to do or think. Then, it was like a fleeting moment before her eyes were on you again, it didn't hold the sharp professional gaze she gave the red head earlier. There was a certain amusement with how she looked at you, a spark you couldn't name if it's confusion or something along the lines of wanting more information.

As you stand there, you watched as one of the side of her lips turned up, before walking towards the expensive singke sofa beside yours. Sitting down on it oh so casually, she patted her hand on the arm of the sofa and motioned her gaze for you to sit back, which you did.

"So, tell me more about you, Ms. Y/l/n."

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"Its smart business." Agatha explained after Y/n asked about the charity she did on Africa."You don't agree?" Agatha immediately asked, seeing the uncertain look she received from the young girl.

"I don't know enough about it." Y/n said truthfully, her face full of innocence about businesses. "I just wonder, if your heart might be a bit bigger than you want to let on?" She continued, saying it carefully as if she fears that she'll say something that the woman would not like or be offended from.

"But some people say I don't have a heart." Agatha sai flatly, her eyes looking for something on Y/n's face before looking away.

"Why would they say that?" Seeing the confused frown for the young woman's face, she smiled as if she was asked about a joke.

Shaking her head as if she's in disbelief, she answered, "Because they know me well." Hearing the silence from the other person inside the room with her, Agatha felt her heart jump a little at the distant look on Y/n's face.

Agatha thought deeply on what she might be thinking. Does she think bad of her now? Just like what everyone thought her to be. Made her to be.

Before she could even overthink more, a question casually fell out of Y/n's lips that she had caught herself gazing at for the nth time.

Y/n shook the thought of her interaction with the famous CEO in the city of Westview, one of the big cities in the country of New York City. Y/n thought how she was so far from what they pictured her to be.

Those tabloid that reported how men and women were left on her trail with a heart broken and a company crumbled into pieces. She's the infamous CEO that either often bad mouthed on or praised. Y/n doesn't know, but she saw she saw and experienced what she did.

There was kindness underneath that walls that Y/n could see she built so high, it makes her think so deep if she's the only interviewee that Agatha had talked to like that, maybe, the universe was just in good mood.

The interview ended when Ms. Maximoff once again went in, telling the CEO that she has an important meeting to go to. It might've been just Y/n being delusional, but she saw how Ms. Harkness—or should she say, Agatha, stared at her for too long. Contemplating wether to end the conversation or once again cancel something.

With a few more serious demand from the red head, she heard the CEO sighed and they bid their goodbyes with Agatha accompanying the young girl on the way to the elevator.

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Y/n's POV:

"Y/n." Agatha said, it sounded so rich. My mouth agaped as the elevator dinged, surprised with how it rolled off on her tounge. I'd die to hear it one more time—what?! No, shut up, Y/n.

Before the door closed, I managed to let out, "Agatha." A smile playing on my face.

Shaking my head as I restock a layer of locks, being in the hardware could so boring, tiring and at the same time satisfying. And what I mean by satisfying is I get to organized things like this.

"Hey, would you mind helping me back there?" Eric asked snapping me out of my thoughts, one my co-worker who is on shift today with me.

"Oh-, yeah, yeah, sure." He nodded with a grateful smile and walked past me, going straight to the storage room.

Sighing, I put aside the box and took a mental note to finish it all off later. Inhaling with closed eyes before I started walking off, stretching my neck as I did so.

"Thought it was you." Jumping at the sound of a familiar voice, deep and with a certain playful tone.

"What the fuck?..." Thankfully, I managed to whisper it and tone my voice down, but with the look on her face, I knew she heard it.

"What a pleasant surprise, Ms. Y/L/N." She said with the same smirk that she gave me so many times back in her office.

"Y/n." I blurted out, waving her off as I started walking slowly towards her unconsciously. "Just... Y/n." Stopping when I'm a few feet away. "You're here?" I asked, looking behind her when I saw that another customer just got it.

She shrugged. "I was in the area of business. Need to pick up a few things." She looked back behind her, noticing that I was checking the hardware. "Are you free?" My eyes snapped at her, not clearly understanding what she was asking.

Mentally cursing myself, I immediately answered. "Yeah, what can I help you with?" She shook her head before looking down while chuckling quietly, as if having a silent conversation with herself.

She started listing off the things she needs and I nodded. "Cable ties, yes we do have those. I can show you if you want." I offered, looking at her as I bite my lip, waiting for her answer.

I caught her staring at my lips, making me pull away and lick it. "Lead the way, Ms. Y/L/N." She said, now with her voice sounding a little bit lower than usual, just then her gaze met mine.

Smiling slightly. "It's Y/n." I reminded before turning to lead her where the cable ties are.

"You know, when you said you were working in a hardware... I was having thoughts about it. But... here you are." Frowning as I gave her the cable ties, which she accepted immediately.

I saw a smile playing on her face. "Why?" I asked curiously, a short giggle coming out from my mouth.

She shook her head. "Nothing, just that... you don't seem like a girl who would deal with so much testosterone around her." Shrugging, she pointed on the rope, and gestured a number 6 with her fingers.

Nodding, I went over to it and started measuring. "Hmm, stereotyping, aren't we, Ms. Harkness?" I narrowed my eyes at her and once again, I was met with one of the most gorgeous chuckle in my lifetime.

She looked at me with a certain amusement playing in her eyes, shaking her head as she took the rope from my hand. "Just kidding." She put everything in one hand, before looking around. "Do you have tapes?" I nodded and pointed on an aisle we haven't passed through.

"We have one inch and two inches, but the truly self respecting handyman would have both in his tool box. Of course he will. It's rare to find a connoisseur these days..." I rambled, not giving her chance to reply, I gave her both.

"Are you a girls scout?" I smiled and shook my head.

"I told you, I'm a member of so many recreational... organization." I said as I look at her things, only then noticing what she was wearing. She looks so simple but so... argh, magnificent at the same time. Clad in purple long sleeves and slacks.

"Are you done checking me out or do I have to wait til I can check these out?" She joked, and I giggled, looking away, trying to hide the mark of an embarrassment crossing my face.

"I just thought how you'd be a perfect casting for a serial killer in a movie right now. We have overalls, if you'd like. Blood might stick on your million dollar clothes." I bite back, looking up at her teasingly, only to find her smirking at me as if she's very entertained by our banter.

Well, I am too. I don't know where I'm getting all that courage to even try on coming toe to toe with her. Maybe it's the way she seemed to be listening so intently on me, hanging on to every words that I say, or maybe it's because I feel comfortable in her atmosphere.

"Could just take off my clothes." Immediately pulling out the smile on my face, my eyes widen a little before she chuckled once again.

"Okay, let me lead you to the counter now." I said, finishing whatever's going to happen in our conversation.

She was still chuckling quietly until we reached the counter when I started checking out the things she got. "Did the company emailed you already?" She asked out of nowhere, making me frown in confusion and look at her face.

"Hmm, my laptop's down... I haven't really checked my email yet, why?" Looking at the computed before I bagged her things up, not thinking much of her question.

"Well, you should. Wanda's been tearing my ear off because you're taking too long to answer and she's—unfortunately, getting tired of me." Rolling her eyes while shrugging.

My eyes narrowed. "Wait... does that mean?..." I asked, not knowing what to say but she seemed to know what it was as she smiled softly and nodded.

"If you don't email back until today, I might change my mind." She shrugged, looking at me teasingly and I gasped, jumping on my tippy toes.

"No! No, no! I'll check it out and send something as soon as possible! I promise! I'll just borrow Miya's laptop." I rambled, and she nodded.

"Your friend, right? Roomate?" She said, taking the bag from my hand and I smiled, amused and surprised that she even remembered that.

"Wow, you remembered..." I said, amusement lacing my tone. "Yeah, yeah, my friend and roomate." I confirmed.

"Well then, I'll be waiting for your email, Y/n." She smiled at me before a person lined up behind her to check out.

"Very well, Agat—Ms. Harkness." Smilling back up at her.

"It's Agatha." She replied, already turning to leave.

"Not until today." I said, giggling, only to receive a shrugged from her, just like that she's gone.

God, the universe might have been having a very good week.

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Sighing, I got out of my knocked up classic car—still the car that I love so much. It's from my dad, gifted it to me for Christmas when I turned 18. Thankfully, it was not that busy on the hardware earlier today, I managed to get off of work early.

It's almost dinner, I doubt Miya would be here, since she's been spending more time on her girlfriend's house for the semestral break. But, as soon as I step inside the house, a body collided with mind and warmth filled my body as I smiled.

"Oh my god! I missed you!" I giggled, almost carrying her with how she's putting all her weight on me.

"Miya! You're here." I laughed. "When did you get home?" I asked and it took her several seconds to pull away before answering, pulling me with her on the couch.

"Yelena dropped me off earlier, and you! We have so many things to catch up! What happened to the interview? How've you been? Did you get that dog you've been wanting to adopt?" I looked at her weirdly but in a playful away, putting my hand on her mouth.

"Okay, okay, slow your horses down." She giggled and pushed my hands away, only to intertwine hers with it and put it in between of us. "First of all, you're acting like we haven't seen each other in months, gosh." I exasperated, rolling my eyes with the same smile playing on my face.

"Hey!" She pulled her hands away and crossed her arms in front of her. "A week is too long! We barely even text." She bit back and I rolled my eyes.

"Well, if you didn't always choose your girlfriend over me then you won't miss me big time." I teased. "Okay, let's stop this..." I crisscross my legs and put my whole front facing her.

She giggled and did the same, looking at me with awaiting eyes, making me smile once more. "Start at the interview! Was she hot? Oh! Is she like... mean? God, I bet all you could think was those fictions you read on wattpad." She laughed, throwing her head back and I frowned.

"Hey! You mean, those weird things that you made me read? And, I am certainly not like that or into that. Okay, wait! The interview went..." I trailed off, now did I only pondered deeply how did it really went. Gosh, I knew I thought of it—or her, mostly.

I mean, I knew I won't pass the intervew and get the job, the less expectations the better. That's why I was really shocked to hear her say that I got it, which I took a mental note on borrowing Miya's laptop later that she left on her room.

"Well?..." I said, not knowing even to myself if I am saying it to her or myself. Her mouth opened and I knew I am getting a whole bunch of heavy and loud questions, demanding a straight answer, but before she could even continue, the doorbell rang and we both looked towards the door then back at each other.

"I got it!" She stood up quickly, rushing to it and I was left thinking what should I tell her.

I mean, I know she'll think of so many things if I told her that the interview didn't really went as an... interview about the job, right? And, I can't tell her about how oh so casual did the famous CEO of our city acted so... casual and normal with me. God, I certainly can't tell her that I saw her again earlier.

Miya will yap my ear off about her weird fantasies that I sometimes get tired of... and also plagues my mind in the most annoying way.

"Hey, you got a gift." Before I even knew it, her feet came into my view and I looked up at her frowning, looking at the big box in her hands, not daring to take it.

"What? What's that?" Full of curiosity lacing my voice.

"How could I know, dumbass." She dropped it on my lap before taking a sit next to me.

I was left to hold the box, gazing at it as it would give me answers only to see a note peeking on the side. It was only a paper folded in a half, making it easier for me to get a glimpse of what is inside when I opened it, which is a short letter and an initial at the end.

Hoping for my assistant's immediate answer, Ms. Y/L/N. Maximoff so close to resigning.

-A.H

"What does it say?" Leaning towards me to get a glimpse of the note, she pondered. "A.H?" She asked out loud.

Then it hit me. Before I could even take it away from her sight, I heard her gasp. My heart jumping miles away from the sky. Not bothering to look at her, I opened the box and was met with a brand new MacBook that probably cost my income for 10 months.

"Oh my god..." I mumbled, not knowing what to feel.

"Ms. Hakrness sent you this?!"

"Oh god."

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Author's Note: Merry Christmas! 🎁

[altis-of-olympia]

A conversation about King Zeus and Queen Hera's relationship. And a narrative on why we can't read the mythos and perceive them as truth.

Come with me on a bit of a journey.

Throughout modern media and historical accounts, we see that King Zeus and Queen Hera have a marriage that can only be described as tumultuous. King Zeus, a known cheater and liar, married to Queen Hera, his sister, and the Goddess of Marriage and Fidelity. Women prayed to Queen Hera to be blessed with a Marriage unlike Her own - one of faith, one of trust. One of reciprocity.

King Zeus is depicted in mythos as being disrespectful of His Wife. In Homer's Iliad, we see several instances in which Queen Hera attempts to revolt against His word, and very quickly, She is punished or shot down. King Zeus ruled over Her with an Iron Fist, as was expected of the Patriarch of the Ancient Greek Household. Especially Kings.

Not acknowledging this fact would be negligent. The Ancient Greek Household had a very particular rule of order - especially amongst royalty. A King ruled over all, his Wife was to listen, and the children were to fall in line. This was the standard for the time.

However, times have changed. With this change, the perception of their relationship must change. In the modern era, the relationship between man and woman looks much different. At least, the ideal looks different.

The newer generation values a relationship where both parties, regardless of sex or gender, are equals. There is no distinct breadwinner, there is no distinct person who "wears the pants" unless otherwise communicated. And King Zeus and Queen Hera reflect this. I have spent plenty of time with the two of them as of late, and they are nothing like the myths depict. King Zeus speaks highly of His Wife. And the few conversations I've had with Queen Hera, She sings His praises, just as He does for her.

Now, in terms of mythology itself...

Here is how I break it down.

Let us say, for the sake of examples, you have a governing document written 400 years ago. It was written based on the ideals of the people 400 years ago, what they needed, wanted, and what they thought was best. And they never changed them. Sure, the document has been translated time and time again as the language becomes more ancient, but other than this, they don't touch it.

Now, 400 years later, in a developed society with new ideals and new ideologies based on that of the old, you have two options. You can either take the document as it is, literally with zero nuance. Or, you can look at it as a breathing document and shape it to fit the ideals of the new society you live in.

This is how people tend to look at mythology. Mythic Literalists, and Mythic Revisionists, as I'll call it. Mythic Literalists will take a work of mythology and look at it as it was written. King Zeus betrayed Queen Hera time and time again, and Queen Hera made the women He slept with face Her wrath rather than confronting King Zeus Herself. A Mythic Revivalist will take this and say that, yes, King Zeus did betray Queen Hera, and She did make other women face Her wrath. What is the allegory behind this? What is the message?

Taking Mythology at face value is what turns people against certain Gods and leads to villainization. The amount of people who turn their heads away from King Zeus due to the stigma that He's a horrible God who rules with an Iron First is astounding. They victimize other Gods like Queen Persephone and may claim She is unhappy as Queen of the Underworld. This is definitively false - both of these narratives. Which is why Mythic Revision is important to understanding the Gods in our modern day.

May I leave you with a bit of homework, so to speak. What is your favorite myth, how did you view it before, and how would you view it after the modern application of it? I look forward to hearing your points of view.

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 10

Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: fluff, otherwise none I believe

A/N: Alright, so there’s a tiny chance I may have written my dog into this. But hey, who’s to say? Here we are at the endgame, and I’ve baked this epilogue to be the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed… by the way, I’ve gotten so attached to these characters that we’ll likely see more of them down the road. In the meantime, a huge thank you for tagging along on this journey with me. Ily🤍🤍🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 9 here

Tuesday's Gone masterlist

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“I can’t believe you talked me into this” you muttered under your breath, feigning annoyance.

Truth be told, you were thrilled to be here. But no way in hell were you letting either of them know that.

Russell leaned down, his voice low in your ear. “Come on, it was her idea. And don’t even try to act like you’re not fuckin’ enjoying this.”

You shot him a look. He wasn’t wrong, though. The sight of Emma skipping ahead, practically buzzing with excitement as she followed the shelter worker to the kennels, was worth every bit of this “reluctant” family outing.

This wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment decision either. You’d been thinking about it for a while now, especially after everything that happened nearly six months ago. Emma had been so strong through it all, and if anyone deserved this, it was her.

She’d just turned five, and when you asked what she wanted for her birthday – same as last Christmas – her answer hadn’t wavered: a dog.

And, well, you weren’t exactly against the idea anymore. Neither was Russell. 

Team Dog was winning at last.

So here you were, standing in the local animal shelter, after weeks of background checks, interviews, and what felt like an application process to adopt a child. All of it leading to this moment: finding the newest, furriest member of your little family.

By the time you reached the kennels, it was clear Russell had an agenda. 

“What about this guy?” he said, pointing to a massive German Shepherd mix that looked like it moonlit as a bouncer. The dog let out a low, rumbling bark that made Emma flinch.

“No!” she protested, darting behind you for cover. “He’s too big.”

“Too big?” Russell sounded personally offended. “He’s not big. He’s just… sturdy.”

“He’s terrifying” Emma whispered dramatically.

“He’s majestic” Russell shot back.

Meanwhile, you wandered to the next kennel, eyeing a floppy-eared mutt who wagged its tail so hard it was practically levitating. 

“This guy, uh… girl looks sweet” you said upon taking a closer look.

Emma peeked out from behind you. “Maybe. But I want to see more!”

“We have a lot of options. Why don’t we take a look over here?” the shelter worker smiled. 

The next row of kennels was filled with smaller dogs, and Emma’s excitement skyrocketed. She stopped in front of a little black-and-tan pug with a squished face and a perpetually surprised expression.

“This one” she declared with wide eyes. “I want this one!”

Russell, however, recoiled like someone had shown him a tax bill. 

“That? That’s not a dog. That’s… I don’t even know what that is. A loaf of bread with legs? It ain’t even aerodynamic.”

Emma ignored him, crouching down to coo at the pug. The dog tilted its head, then waddled closer, sniffing her fingers through the bars.

“His name is Misha” the worker lady behind you announced.

“Oh, great. He already comes with a ridiculous name. Misha? Misha?” Russell scrunched his face.

Em turned to the shelter worker. “Can I meet him?”

The worker nodded at her with a smile, opening the kennel. Misha ambled out like he owned the place, his curled little tail wagging as your daughter crouched down to pet him.

“Look at him! He’s perfect” she insisted.

Russell groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. Perfect wasn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe it.

“Em, come on. What about one of these guys?” He gestured to a sleek, athletic-looking dog further down. “This one looks like it could run a marathon. That thing” he pointed at the pug, “looks like it’ll need a nap after climbing onto the couch. And an airbag after waking up from a nap.”

The shelter worker cleared her throat, smiling gently. “Actually, Misha’s in great health. Hadn’t had any major issues in his four years of life. He came to us recently. His previous owner passed away. He’s house-trained, doesn’t chew furniture, and loves kids. He’s very low-maintenance, too.”

You perked up at that.

“Wait, he’s not pooping inside? He’s already house-trained?” 

You crouched to look Misha in his bug-eyed little face. 

God, why does he have wrinkles at four? 

“Well, buddy” you patted his head, “that’s a telltale sign you’re coming home with me.”

Russell groaned, clearly fazed by you giving in so easily.

“Unbelievable. We’re bringing home a pug named Misha.”

Emma squealed in victory, while Russell groaned like he’d just lost a bet. “Fine” he relented, glancing at Misha. From this angle he found him almost… cute. Like, cute in a grotesque way. 

“But if that thing starts snoring louder than me, we're gonna have a serious talk” he called after you and Emma as you headed off to sign the paperwork, officially making your little loaf of bread the newest member of your family.

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“Misha, no! Misha!” Russell shouted as the dog launched himself out of the Chevy, heading straight for the building like a furry missile.

“Well, I’ll be damned. They weren’t kidding, he is in good shape” you remarked, helping Emma out of the car. 

In the three weeks Misha had been living with you, you’d learned that his idea of a good day was a 22-hour nap followed by some seriously relentless running.

And the clinginess? That was definitely a thing, too, especially with Russell despite his best efforts to act annoyed. But he couldn’t fool you. Not with all the photo evidence stashed away on your phone showing him passed out on the couch, Emma tucked under one arm and Misha curled up in the crook of his other. All of them snoring in harmony. Or that one time you caught him absentmindedly scratching the dog’s belly while staring at his phone, completely unaware of how soft he’d gotten so quickly.

Misha also grew fond of you and Emma, too, and soon you figured he wasn’t about to wander off too far even without a leash. Probably still a little rattled from his previous owner’s sudden passing. He loved spending every minute of his time in a now somewhat stable family.

The building the dog was charging toward was a big, brick beauty, with towering windows and a brand-new sign hanging proudly above the door. It was the final product of an ongoing battle of bad brewery name ideas between you and Russell.

You’d pitched some real gems like Hop Notch Brewery, Sweet Foam Idaho, and Shawbusiness. You were obviously just having fun, knowing it was Russell’s dream project. 

“I’m just trying to help!” you exclaimed playfully. 

But still – Shawstopper was practically genius, right?

He, of course, was more into traditional names like Shaw & Co Brewery or Shawcraft. 

But then… you pitched the one name that made him crack. One that he absolutely hated. Hated it so much that, for some bizarre reason, he thought it was twistedly brilliant. So, here you were, standing beneath the freshly hung sign above the front door of…

“Shawshank Brewdemption” Emma read out loud, brows furrowed. You were surprised she could read it relatively effortlessly with all the consonants in there. “I don’t understand!” 

“You will when you’re older” you said, crossing your arms with a smirk and gazing up at the sign like it was a masterpiece of wit.

It was the first day this place would be soft launching into the market, with hosting a small gathering to your family. It wasn’t only Emma’s birthday this month. Funny enough, her dad was also a Leo. 

So here you were, standing in the small, but cosy main room of the brewery with a nice, industrial-style bar with wooden panels, decorated by the first two batches of Russell’s now-semi-home brew, waiting for your and Russ’s guests to arrive. Tthe white stucco walls were your handiwork – well, mostly. Emma contributed by slapping on a few chaotic brushstrokes before abandoning the task entirely to play around in the unfinished rooms. There were wooden tables – made of walnut tree to match the bar and the legs of the barstools, with black leather couches and chairs.

It wasn’t exactly your vision, but it was definitely your sweat and tears. Russell had thrown himself into perfecting the beer, leaving the interior design entirely to you. His initial ideas? Hilariously unhelpful and vague.

“I dunno. I just want it to look hip. Or whatever kids call it nowadays.”

That hip, he later explained, was what you could best describe as an industrial minimalist style. 

“You know... Some brick walls, some white ones, maybe those long black lamps hanging from the ceiling. Oh, and wood. Lots of wood.”

Somehow, you’d managed to turn his disjointed aesthetic wishlist into something real, and now here you were, standing in the finished product. One wall was left bare, the brick foundation shown – hence his request. Though, you’ve given it your touch: the area was filled with green. Snake plant, chinese evergreen, swiss cheese plant, you name it. They really gave the otherwise minimalist interior design a touch of life.

As you stood there, soaking it all in, Russell walked up beside you, sliding a beer onto the bar. “What do you think? Good enough for a little gatherin’?” he asked, his voice warm but his tone just a bit hesitant.

Emma cut him off with a delighted squeal from across the room. “Look, Daddy! Misha’s helping me decorate!” She was tying a stray piece of ribbon loosely around the pug’s neck, who was, unsurprisingly, just letting it happen.

Russell glanced over, then back at you with a sigh. 

“I swear, that dog’s plotting to take over my life.”

“He already has. I caught you sneaking him bits of bacon this morning despite my continuous requests not to. Who’s the softie now?” you smirked. 

He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, he glanced at the room around you.

“You really pulled this place together” he said, his voice soft. “I don’t know how you took my half-baked ideas and turned them into… this.”

You arched an eyebrow, smirking. “So, what I’m hearing is I’m the brains and the talent here?”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. Instead of arguing, he slipped an arm around you, pulling you in for a side hug and pressing a kiss to your temple.

The truth was, you’d poured everything into this. Both of you had. This wasn’t just a brewery. It was something bigger, something that felt like a foundation. Russell had dreamed it up, sure, but somewhere along the way, it became more than his dream. It became your dream too. Not the brewing part, for sure. You weren’t about to start debating hops or malts anytime soon. It was the building part, the fact that this place stood as proof of what the two of you could do together. It wasn’t just about beer or business; it was about creating something solid, something lasting.

It was about saying, without words, that this thing between you and him was real. Serious. Built to last, like the walls around you. And standing here, side by side, you couldn’t help but feel it in your bones: this wasn’t just his place or yours. It was yours.

The rumble of an engine outside broke the quiet anticipation inside the brewery. Misha, the self-proclaimed guard dog, leapt off his cozy bed by the bar and started yapping like the apocalypse was imminent.

“Relax, Napoleon” Russell muttered, scooping the tiny pug up and cradling him like a football. “You couldn’t scare off a squirrel.”

You hadn’t seen Colter in weeks, but you could recognise his car anywhere. He’d been off doing his thing, of course. But from what you could gather from Russ, they kept in touch, even if just by texts. And in the last few months, he made sure to come by every once in a while.

“Uncle Colter’s here!” Emma squealed, bolting toward the opening door.

Emma launched herself at her uncle, and Colter caught her mid-air with practiced ease, his face softening just a little.

“Hey, hey. I swear you can’t stop growing” he said, setting her back down with a pat on her head. 

His eyes drifted toward the furball in Russell’s arms. “What is that?”

“This” Russell said, biting back a laugh, “is Misha. Emma’s choice, of course. And now your new favorite family member.”

Emma chimed in, bounding forward and wrapping her arms around Colter’s waist. “Isn’t he perfect?”

Colter looked at the wiggling ball of fur. “Perfect’s a strong word.”

“Careful” Russell said, his tone amused. “He bites.”

You laughed, stepping forward to give Colter a quick hug. “Good to see you, too. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it” he said with a faint smile. Then, he brought in a clumsily wrapped gift box. “Where should I put it?”

Slowly, everyone arrived, which meant the present pile began to look like the Annapurna. Your mom and dad brought food enough to feed an army, despite you saying you had everything ready, they just had to show up. Your mother, of course, adored the place. Your dad, more direct, gave Russell a curt nod, saying “nice sign, birthday boy”. 

Soon, Russell’s sister, Dory also arrived. You’d only met her a few months ago, but the two of you had clicked instantly. Similar in age, similar in humor, meaning similar in your mutual ability to poke fun at Russell without remorse.

Finally, Anna arrived too, juggling a tray of brownies, asking a breathless “Am I late? Because I feel late.” 

You couldn’t help but take a step back to soak it all in. 

Emma was proudly parading Misha around the room like he was the true guest of honor, his curled tail wagging as if he knew it. Your mom was stationed near the bar, taking charge of the food table like it was a military operation. For her, it kind of was. Meanwhile, your dad stood nearby, his chuckles an unmistakable sign that he entertained Colter with his infamously dry one-liners. Anna was chatting with Dory about some undoubtedly exaggerated childhood story that had both of them laughing hard enough to wipe away tears. Russell hovered nearby, refilling drinks and making sure everyone was comfortable. Though his eyes kept drifting back to you.

The mismatched puzzle pieces of your life, both old and new, were all here, fitting together in a way that felt just like it was meant to be.

And now, nothing could ruin this. James Rourke was behind bars, and as Corter kept reassuring, he wasn’t getting out of that prison uniform anytime soon. Horizon owed Russ big time, and they made sure nobody would disturb the three of you again.

Russell strolled over to you, sliding his arm around your waist as the two of you watched your family fill the space you’d built together. 

After a moment, he said, “If you told me this would be my life a year ago, I’d think you gotta be shittin’ me.”

You leaned into him, resting your head lightly against his shoulder. 

“Yeah, well, life’s funny like that” you replied, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “You go from being a flight risk to hosting family gatherings in a brewery called Shawshank Brewdemption. Quite the character arc, Russ.”

He laughed softly, his thumb brushing idly along your waist. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

“Oh, I’m impressed” you teased. “Mostly by how you’re managing to look calm while Misha’s trying to con your sister into feeding him cake.”

Russell glanced over just in time to see Dory holding a fork suspiciously close to Misha’s eager face. He let out a low groan. “I swear that dog’s smarter than he looks. And that’s saying somethin’.”

You chuckled, watching Emma swoop in like the world’s tiniest referee, wagging her finger at both Dory and Misha in mock outrage. 

“She’s got your bossy streak” you said, nudging him gently.

“And your stubborn streak” he shot back, grinning.

You smiled back at him, enjoying the easy banter between you two. You took a sip of his brew, then asked, “So, how old are you getting again?”

“39 and still full of charm” he replied with a wink.

You quirked a brow in mischief. “How long have you been 39, huh?”

“Not that long” he quipped with an equally playful expression.

You chuckled, reaching over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on” giving his shirt a playful tug. “Time to go bask in the glory of those presents.”

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Aaaand, that’s all, folks! I hope you enjoyed this final chapter. Wishing you all a very merry Christmas, filled with love, cookies, home-cooked meals, and plenty of bejgli (especially to my fellow Hungarian moots, though I probably have none), because that’s exactly what I’ll be indulging in.

Thank you again for keeping up with this story again. If you’re reading this, I thank you personally. Yeah, you. 🤍

xx Pam

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas @lomlbuckybarnes @n-o-p-e-never @roseblue373

[drrden]

'Mistletoe' Leon Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Merry Christmas Eve ;) Cop!Leon x Receptionist!Reader. AU where there's no virus. Silly little fic, awkward flirting, hallmark vibes, inexperienced Leon, SFW, love confession, coworkers to lovers, first kiss!

Since becoming an officer at the Police Department in Raccoon City, Leon's unfortunately lost contact with most of his friends from his hometown, the long-distance seeming to have tarnished the friendships. Evidently, he found himself eager to pursue others in a platonic manner within Raccoon City, striving to help out his colleagues as much as he possibly could. All the way from day one of being stationed there, to the present day - where he's no longer perceived as a mere rookie to the full extent anymore. He's the type of guy who'll stay back an extra hour or two to finish up a report on behalf of a colleague, to let them take the last of the donuts from the box brought in by the Lieutenant. Not only is this behavior applicable to the festive season, but Leon is rather like this all days of the year, naturally being generous and just loving giving. This kindhearted nature of his has winded up in him spending the late evening of Christmas Eve in the police station, despite the fact he'd much rather be back in his dingy apartment watching Jingle All The Way for the umpteenth time this month. There's not a single other officer around, his sigh of exhaustion echoing throughout the office as he absentmindedly chews on the tip of his pencil, having spent most of the evening doodling. It's confusing to him, the reason why an officer was needed to stay overtime on this particular night, yet he clearly volunteered - as that's what left him wound up here. Even if he were to be back home right now, it's not like he'd be sharing the Christmas spirit with anything other than an old box television and a pizza from whatever takeout that's open. The chances of anywhere being open are pretty slim, though, so that tarnishes that fantasy. Leon had a few people that he could spend the evening with, but they all happen to be thousands of miles away and all likely busy with their respective partners. Huffing, his lips part and he pulls them away from the pencil, leaning back in his chair and gazing up blankly at the ceiling - at least being at work gives him something to do tonight. Otherwise he'd be cooped up, basking in his own loneliness that coms with not having any single friends free on Christmas Eve. Ah, who is he kidding? There's no need to get so melodramatic and worked up on the day before Christmas, after all, it's not like he's entirely alone at the station.

Fingertips pressing along diligently on the keyboard, the sound of clicking acts as a rhythmic backdrop to the otherwise silent reception of the somewhat loomingly large building. Shaking your head, you tentatively withdraw your hands and avert your attention away from the monitor, foot tapping along on the cold floor, a sense of expectancy resonating from within you. But for what? Palms reaching for the edge of the desk, you use it as leverage to push your office chair back, standing up from behind the desk and taking a moment to steady yourself back on your feet. They've gone overload with the decorations this year, tinsel of all different shades wrapped around banisters in swivels, fake snowflakes glued onto the glass of each door and window. Even going as far to make a customized Christmas mixtape which usually plays faintly from the boombox settled upon your front desk, the familiar sounds having previously been turned off by you a while ago. Some late night call was expected, which is why you're tasked with the responsibility of staying back a couple of extra hours, not to go home until you instigate the phone call. Which seems to not want to ring anytime soon, your eyes narrowing with a sense of resentment to the plastic landline. A familiar blonde appears in your peripheral vision, walking hesitantly along until he's finally in your line of view, the signature boyish grin causing his eyes to squint the slightest bit. The addressing of your name followed by, "Got sick of the music, huh?" As he motions towards the silent boombox, to which you respond with a knowing eye roll, having gotten bored of the same songs playing on the repeat about five hours ago. "Yup." A nod of the head as you look Leon up and down, eyebrow quirked with mild intrigue. "How come you're here still? Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" A question of no ill-intent, just something to keep the conversation going, but Leon responds a little too quickly. "I don't have a girlfriend. Or any partner." Seems like he's pretty adamant on the fact that he's single, and you presume it's just to insinuate that that's the reason he stays late so often, not to stay away from a neglected partner, or something. Maybe he's embarrassed. Feeling for the poor guy, you shake your head reassuringly. "Yeah, me neithe-." "I know."

Now a little puzzled towards the nature of this interaction, your brows furrow and you look up at him from beneath your eyelashes, not exactly certain whether he's flirting with you or not. By the softness of those blue eyes of his, you figure that he's merely clueless as to how his words cold be interpreted, a gentle expression on his face. "You were supposed to go back home to see your family for Christmas. But since you had to stay late tonight, that won't be happening, yeah?" A sympathetic head tilt as he questions you, his hand lightly scratching near one of the moles on his neck, beside his Adam's Apple. It's like he knows everything about you, even paying full attention to your half-asleep ramblings early in the morning when you seem to hate everything. Refers back to things you've mentioned only briefly in passing, having been so attentive to everyone who he works with. Especially you. "I don't see how this is any of your business." The second you retort with such a snark, you regret it immediately, just struggling with being overworked and tired, cursing softly to yourself beneath your breath. His eyes widen and he shakes his head adamantly. "No I- I wasn't judging you for it, or anything, I promise. I'm in the same situation." Great, now he's eyeing you like a hurt puppy, guilt etched within the downturn of the corners of his lips, as if he's the one who should be sorry in this conversation. In a feeble attempt to salvage his opinion of you, you blurt out an oddly intimate-sounding suggestion. "Do you want to spend it together?" OK. There's a possibility that he can interpret your wording platonically, so as to not unmask the full truth of the fact that you've had a crush on him since he first joined, which has only built up throughout the passing of the months. The apples above those prominent cheekbones of his light up as bright as a Christmas tree, stifling a noise of surprise in the back of his throat. A silent nod of acceptance to your offer. Until he's bouncing on the heels of his feet excitedly, repeatedly nodding. "Oh are you sure? I'd love that. That's really nice." Blabbering on about how sweet you are to do this for him, now that he won't have to be alone and the two of you can spend the festivity together. Together. Usually when two people spend Christmas together alone, they're a couple.

As that realization dawns upon yourself, it seems to with Leon as well, his eyes widening as his lips part as if to say something else - however nothing comes out. Desperate to shift the conversation, he pulls out a Christmas card penned for you specifically, passing it into your possession in an abnormally jittery manner. Peeling back the envelope, you tug it out and see the grapohlogy of a kitten wearing a Santa hat, the lettering "Merry Christmas to a purr-fect coworker!" beneath it. Man, he really hopes you don't find him creepy for this, but it was the best card he could find and he personally thinks it's quite cute, despite being silly. Your name within the card is followed by "I hope you have a very merry Christmas. Thank you for always being so patient with me in the mornings when I'm still half-asleep. You're the best person for the job of receptionist here, and I'm so happy we work together. Love, Leon :) x" Ok, wow. Since Christmas is the time to be earnest with one another, Leon figures that the opportunity is right, and he stomachs the flutter of anxiety pooling in his stomach. Knowing how cheesy this all is, he plucks one of the mistletoe from the set of decorations on the desk, and dangles it above the two of you, well aware of the fact that he'll never live this down. Seems like the Christmas Spirit is really getting to him, huh? Attention drawn towards your lips, his eyes go half-lidded somewhat, in a daze as his heartbeat thuds in his ears, so hard in his chest that he's almost shaking. "I've bailed on telling you so many times, and if you reject me now then we don't have to spend Christmas together. But I can't do this anymore." A gentle breath of your name ghosting from his mouth. "Shit, I'm just realizing how cringe this is in real life. Um. Anyways, so uhhhh. It'd be really cool if I could be your boyfriend, 'cause I've had feelings for you for a long while now." Leon confesses with such quietness in his voice, it's as if he's in a confession booth, like he's atoning for a sin. Like he doesn't deserve to have feelings for you, like you're too good for him. "Because it's Christmas, you deserve the truth. I like you. Very much." Never has he felt like this before with anyone, having assumed romance just wasn't for him.

Swallowing the last wave of nerves, he whimpers. "Ah, usually people kiss under mistletoe, but if you don't want that or don't feel the same then that's cool-" Reaching up and cupping his warm face in your hands, you lean in and brush your lips against his, and he freezes. Maybe he should've told you before that he's never kissed anyone. Fiingers trembling, the mistletoe slips from within his grasp and he acts on instinct. Leaning over the reception desk which separates the two of you, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other resting against the curve of the side of your neck. His shoulders relaxing as he melts into the tender moment, eyes fluttering shut as he reciprocates the kiss.

[euthymiya]

acting like you’re some woke person just because you advocate for middle aged women to be lifeless on the internet is not the flex you think it is 💀

You seem rather passionate about this so I’m going to indulge your ask to let you know three things:

Writing is a hobby that gets better with age, life experience, and practice. The best pieces of writing objectively come from older people and I’m not talking about fanfiction. I mean books and literature. I’m serious—go look at some of the most well known pieces of literature and then search up the ages of their authors during the years they were published. You’ll find the older writers tend to bust out bangers and this principle is very much applicable to fics too by default. Also writing fanfic is not “lifeless” lol. Some of you act like writing fanfic is juvenile compared to a novel and it’s rly not that different from writing an original piece of fiction. Sure, sometimes fanfic can be a little less on the conventional side in terms of technique. But genuinely the concept of putting characters into situations to create a plot is literally the main thing on both sides here and if you think writing fanfic is silly, it makes 0 sense to hold creative writing to some pedestal. Some fanfic writers demonstrate AMAZING original world building skills especially if they write au’s that diverge from canon and I think you are out of your mind if you think this hobby is not oftentimes an impressive one rather than “lifeless”

Being 30+ doesn’t automatically mean you must/do have a family and kids but I’ll still indulge that point and say you can easily balance a work and personal life while also having a hobby. I know middle aged men who dedicate more time to hobbies like hunting and fishing than middle aged women do with writing. One actually requires you to leave your house and family behind and the other you can do from the comfort of your home and tend to your family should you need to. I think the nature of your opinion only stems from a misogynistic view on aging women but that’s another can of worms

People don’t stop consuming and enjoying things as soon as they hit their third decade of living. If that’s your viewpoint on life, you’re going to set yourself up for a very miserable time once you hit 30. If you’re already 30+ then you’re a hypocrite by default by even being here in the first place lol. Also, life is literally so fucking silly okay? You wake up, work, pay taxes, and try to get by with what is usually an underpaid paycheck. Just fucking enjoy your life and let others enjoy theirs okay? If a 30 year old likes anime, then that is literally so god damn harmless I cannot stress enough how unimportant that is. There are 30 year olds out there doing heinous things in their free time and you choose to be bothered by someone who happens to produce an assortment of words from time to time. Please reevaluate your priorities

All things aside I cannot convince you that being 30+ and enjoying fandom and fanfic is not weird unless you really just realize that it’s not weird. Idk how old you are but I assume you’re younger than 30 because no 30 year old would be on fandom tumblr and then bash others for it. But regardless, just because you think something is weird doesn’t mean it’s bad. It is literally the most harmless thing I do not understand why you would care so much, just move on???? When you think someone dresses weird in real life do you go point it out to them??? No you think it to yourself and move tf on—and if you would voice it to them then you are literally a rude individual. Plain and simple. Rude and disrespectful and I would suggest you again, reevaluate. And it’s the same principle here. You just move on. If you seriously cannot be convinced that this is normal and just absolutely are dead set on believing that 30+ year olds who enjoy fandom are weird, fine. But just keep it to yourself it is the bare minimum you can do to be a decent person I cannot stress this enough to you

And one more thing. The people who are writing the mangas and animes you enjoy so much are middle aged. Older than 30/40. Grown people who might even have families and kids. Creativity has no age limit it is just a small joy that people indulge in at any age and it’s a very nice thing when they share it for others to enjoy, as well. Please just enjoy someone’s art and live a little. I promise you will be much happier and peaceful if you just read a good fic without worrying about the age of whoever produced it. I guarantee you a lot of the BEST fics you’ll read will come from the older writers they are literally doing you a favor if you happen to enjoy reading fanfic. Why bite the hand that feeds you?

[festive-unserious-fellow]

...The love potion is Hell Viagra. Guys tHE LOVE POTION IS HELL VIAGRA-

Like okay maybe its not *exactly* that. I don't think Viagra like, actively turns ppl on or whatever, BUT I think it's primary intended purpose IS something similar. It's get horny juice. Cuz like, think about it for a second. Why sell something that's JUST advertised as a date r*pe drug? Why would you do that? Like, I get that it's hell, and bad people gonna do bad things, but the audience for that kind of thing is probably relatively limited. Plus, there are definitely people down there that would be VERY put off by a company that sells something being actively advertised as for date r*pe. Like, a lot of the sinners we see seem to be. Normal people. Which is also why Val shooting up the hotel would be considered bad for the Vees image- A lot of the truly nasty shit the Vees do has got to be kept at least kind of under wraps because a decent portion of Hell's population probably still wouldn't be okay with actively supporting that shit, no matter how much they're being encouraged to indulge in their worst impulses. It's like how, in jail, a lot of the time ppl will gang up on the worst criminals and beat the shit out of them or smthn. Like even the drone ad that explicitly stated one of the features was spying on your neighbors felt more like it was implying just spying rather then like, peeping on them naked. People are more likely to openly say they've been sticking their nose into their neighbors business then they are to say they've been peeping. Still not good, but like. Vaguely more socially acceptable and appealing to a wider market.

There's also the fact that, from the advertisements we've seen, it doesn't really look like that's what it's being advertised for? One of them is Velvette doing a magical girl pose and the other is Val(who is the porn guy. Aka the romanticized sex genre) and Vel just like, laying there together all sexy like. It's vague, but none of it, besides the name if you're genre savy(which I'd like to point out that not everybody is involved in media criticism enough to realize the issues w/ the love potion trope, which wasn't even taboo until a couple years ago tbh), really screams "use this to make people have sex with you against their will!" That, along with the fact that the love potion definitely CAN'T act how love potions normally do in fiction(making the person who ingested it fall deeply, head-over-heals in love with specifically the person that gave it to them), because that would be too difficult to mass produce, and the other usual approach(fall in love with the first person you see) is just too impractical unless someone is truly desperate, I think the use that gets ADVERTISED is "use this to make your sex better and more fun, just like in those pornos we also sell!(buy our shit)" rather than date r*pe.

That doesn't mean I think the Vees like. Actively discourage other uses though. A sale's a sale and one of them is fucking Valentino there's no way they care that much. Any negative reviews along the lines of "somebody used this to fucking drug me" probably get deleted and nothing is ever done about it because, in the end, as long as the suffering is invisible nobody's gonna care. This take doesn't really make the Vees any less shitty, it just makes them more ~realistically~ shitty.

It also makes the love potion a little bit funnier. Like just a lil bit. Bcuz it means you can make Hell Viagra jokes :)

[bixels]

In the past, people in the Animal Crossing community would make fun of Tom Nook as a sleazy landlord. Since then, he's really rehabilitated his image as this 'heart of gold' businessman (he's the one who puts bells and furniture in trees for you to find! he adopted orphans! he donates to charity!), but New Horizons genuinely paints the most devious version of him.

He's successfully privatized settler colonialism: you pay HIM to move to a "deserted island" (which apparently the oceans in the AC world are just full of) and start a colony that he is directly invested in. At best he's running a weird vacation package scam (you arrive on the island with no money and in debt for "using his services"). At worst, he's using you to set up company towns. For god's sake, he literally has his own fake currency that he forces you to use to pay off your debt. But don't worry, he's repackaged it in a way that definitely doesn't sound like an MLM scam: the Nook Mileage Program!

You're no longer just his tenant or his temporary part-timer, you're his business lackey. The entire tutorial section of the game has you spending actual weeks running around completing tasks and doing hard labor to set up his colony. You're even tasked with preparing his properties and finding buyers for them. No, you aren't a tenant anymore. You work for the landlord. You are directly responsible for finding tenants for him. And he doesn't even fucking pay you. Not for setting up town hall and museum, or his nephew's shop –– which is the ONLY store on the entire island that sells necessities –– or bringing KK Slider to town, or helping populate his town. Not a single cent. No, actually, you have to pay HIM to BUY infrastructure like bridges and stairs and park benches. And all the while, he's telling you're the "resident representative"; you get to call the shots! That the reward is the community's progress. That what you're doing is in everyone's best interest (but most importantly, his).

Since NH's release, people have done a lot of legwork to say that Tom Nook isn't a capitalist while the game shows him at his very worst. He owns the only general store in town. You're forced to use a phone that he modified and branded as his own. Buy Nook-branded furniture and merchandise at the self-serve kiosk in the town hall, a governmental building! There's no conflict of interest here!

But hey, if you're tired of being the landlord/business mogul's goon, you can also find work as a deluxe resort home designer for a company that also pays you in their special company currency that can only be used to buy their products instead of a real salary! Because that's what the Animal Crossing franchise needs! More vacation homes!!!

[taradactyls]

Something I love about how Pride and Prejudice is told through an omnipresent narrator, aside from the witty remarks and insight into other characters it allows even though it's usually focused on Elizabeth, is how it plays on the audience's own prejudices and assumptions.

The narrator tells us very early on, chapter 4, that Darcy is "haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting." We've already seen that when we meet him the previous chapter, and will see more of it in those following. But it's the readers, along with Elizabeth, who take that observation as not only a list of flaws (despite only the first actually being negative) but presumes even more damaging flaws must be attached to it. Darcy can be off-putting, especially so in the setting we meet him in: he dismissed Elizabeth within earshot of her, didn't engage with people attempting to converse with him, etc. It's easy to assume the worst of him in a world so driven by social niceties, and because we follow Elizabeth, who is so lively and playful amidst the rules which govern society. Elizabeth thinks he's bad tempered? It would make sense - he hasn't shown consideration for others much socially, why would he care when he's angry? He acted from resentment and jealousy and went against his father's will? That's not such a jump after the conclusion of a bad temper, his own acknowledgement of implacable resentment, and evidence of pride. The awareness of one offensive trait so naturally leads to prejudice against it, that we easily assume still worse qualities must exist. We are as mistaken as Elizabeth.

Even the idea that 'No, Darcy was never haughty or rude, he was just shy and misunderstood, the narrator is wrong' is just magnifying that prejudice. Yes, we do find out later that Darcy is not at ease among strangers, and was always intrinsically good; his morals and core values meant he was never as bad as Elizabeth believed. But that doesn't mean he was without flaws, and it's so fascinating that some analysis of his character seek to completely remove the negative traits which he eventually overcame after acknowledging them in himself. The logic seems to be that they feel if he had them in the start that he isn't actually such a good person. It's just another example of being so prejudiced against certain flaws that it's impossible for some people to reconcile that there doesn't have to be more serious failings attached, and someone can still be a good person despite being arrogant and not always nice. It's, ironically, being prejudiced in the exact same way that Elizabeth was at the start of the novel. It's amazing that Jane Austen was able to tap into that aspect of human nature so deftly, and invoke in both in her main character, and readers to this day.

Now, of course, the story is so well known it's rare for anyone to read it blind, so it's less likely anyone will be unaware of Darcy's good qualities despite first seeing his worst. Even if they do, Pride and Prejudice has become so genre defining that new readers who are the slightest bit genre savvy will be more aware than contemporary audiences were. But even if we know the story it's still so understandable why Elizabeth feels the way she does. We see what she sees and feel her conclusions make sense. Just as, even though the narrator tells us Darcy is starting to catch feelings for Elizabeth, we fully comprehend her not noticing and believing there's a mutual dislike. And though that is concrete evidence of Elizabeth not reading Darcy and his motives correctly, we are still so sympathetic of the basis of her prejudice that her continued belief in Darcy's lack of virtues makes sense from her point of view. We can see, as she later will, that she takes it too far, and should have noticed evidence to the contrary, but her prejudice against him based on his early behaviour and her pride at reading people correctly is so understandable.

Basically, in a story about the characters' pride and prejudices, I love, love, LOVE how the narrator's voice brings out those same traits in readers the exact same way we see it presenting in Elizabeth. We're all on that journey with her, and we can likewise learn the same lessons about ourselves as she does. Pride and Prejudice feels timeless, because even though society and thus the nuance changes, the book is about human nature, and that remains essentially the same.

[seiwas]

SEL MY SEL …….. crawling over here for the ask game …………… you already know . who i’m going to ask for phdkdjdkdb IN MY DEFENSE I WILL NEVER GET OVER YOUR VERSION OF HIM !!!!!!!

….. sugu ….. with ’sun’ ……. maybe 👉👈

(🍵 <- a little matcha for your troubles … good luck with the writing exercises my loveee <33 i’m cheering you on!!!)

ARI 🥹🥹🥹🥹 hehe ofc i shall write sugu for u! writing him is always so fun 🥹 thank you for the prompt, and for the matcha!! i will be sipping it as i write this 🥹 it is not a trouble at alllll!! esp if it's for youuuuu 🫶

contains: beautiful, gorgeous, sexy neighbor suguru, mood can be a bit unsettling... honestly a little stockholm syndrome-y (does this count as dark? idk 😭), skewed concept of reality and time

suguru + sun

you move into a new neighborhood on your 24th birthday.

it's a quaint house, fully furnished with wooden panels lining its contemporary build. you consider yourself lucky for finding a place this well-kept at the price point you offered. you're honestly surprised that suguru, your now landlord, accepted your application.

the area sits a few kilometers on the outskirts of the city, but it feels neither too quiet nor too busy; a perfect balance with an impressive view of the rising sun this early in the morning. that, and the people seem friendly, greeting you as they pass by. they even offer to help you haul things out of your car and into the house.

to the right of your house is one that holds the same design elements at yours, although a bit darker in its tones. it's sleek and modern, befitting of a bachelor.

"you must be the new tenant," a voice speaks from behind you, syrupy and smooth. you didn't even hear his footsteps.

when you turn around, you're met with a tall man who greets you with his arms held behind his back as he tilts his head low. there's a calmness that radiates off him, a sort of gentleness that signals he’s someone you can trust.

you nod, introducing yourself with your hand outstretched towards him.

"suguru," he replies as his fingers grab yours delicately. your eyes widen in surprise, recognizing the name, and he merely chuckles in return, a soft laugh that brings out kindness in his eyes.

"i should greet you properly," he lets go of your hand, placing it back behind him. "hello, new neighbor."

.

over shared breakfasts by your porch and impromptu dinners over at his, you grow a liking to suguru. he's polite and thoughtful, often knocking at your door in the mornings to offer you a cup of tea to watch the sunrise.

"you'll only find sunrises like this here," he leans back on the wooden chair you set out as outdoor furniture. his head tilts towards you slightly, impossibly close as you notice the corner of his lips curl up into a small grin.

hues of pinks, purples, and orange blend to illuminate his face perfectly. the sun is beautiful in front you, peeking between clouds as it inches away from the horizon, but something about him is infinitely more magnetic. your stare is immediately drawn to his lips, smooth and supple, before it meets his gaze.

you don't know what's worse―wanting to lean in or be pulled by the look in his eyes.

he fixes things that break in your home, always somehow knowing just when to show up. at first, it was your windows, the one by the attic, too high and dangerous for you to climb; then, it was your kitchen sink, its pipes regurgitating the water going down the drain. he's begun to bring you your groceries too, often asking for a list of what you need when he makes trips out of town.

your days blur easily when you're with suguru, and time passes almost fleetingly as you find your hours filled with soft laughs and touches so delicate you sometimes wonder whether they're real.

it should be noted, you think, how much time has passed since you first met him―an anniversary of some sort.

.

you learn that he owns both houses―his and the one you're currently renting. it once belonged to a friend who had to move for bigger, greater responsibilities elsewhere, he'd said.

"why did you decide on renting?" you ask him one night, over wine and candlelight.

your fingers fiddle with his as he sits you on his lap, this thing between you growing more intimate lately. he rubs his thumb along your thigh, resting his chin by your shoulder.

"you could have sold it or something."

he presses his lips gently on your collarbone.

"i could've," his fingers trail up to your waist, crossing your chest before landing on your chin, cupping it lightly to face him. your heart is hammering in your chest, senses on fire as his nose kisses yours. you think you can count every mole that dots his face beautiful. then, he inches closer, lips grazing yours as he whispers, "but i was waiting for you."

.

you mark each day at sunrise.

your digital clocks and calendars stopped working after some time, but you don't mind. suguru always tells you what date it is when you ask.

this morning, you wake up in his bed, and the sun is still as breathtaking as you remember it, the same pink, purple, and orange hues streaming through his window. when you look closely, the clouds―

"good morning," he brings you tea in bed, his hair topped off with a bun, a half-up-half-down.

your stomach fills itself with something warm and fuzzy as you smile at him, "morning."

"slept well?" his hand reaches for your waist under the duvet, and you giggle, ticklish.

"very," you crane your neck to land a soft kiss on his lips. "what date is it today?"

"october 28," he supplies.

your eyebrows shoot up as you realize, "i have to bring my car to the mechanic."

it's been 6 months now since your last check, right before you moved, and though you barely use your car anyway, it's best to be safe.

you quickly move to get up but suguru's hand keeps you in place, firmly pressed on your waist.

"i'll do it," he says with a smile on his face, "you rest here."

.

you barely see your other neighbors except for the girl who smokes a pack of cigarettes a day and the twins down the street.

when you ask suguru about it, he dismisses the question quickly, saying, "must have moved," as he urges you to take another sip of your tea.

you dream of them that night, on bare streets; it wakes you in a cold sweat, the image of your neighborhood reduced to just your house and suguru's.

.

this is the 200th sunrise since you started counting, which means this is the 200th day since you and suguru officially got together. kind of.

your gift for him is a painting of the sunrise, because it reminds you of him; and because it's become your favorite thing to look forward to, too.

the pinks and purples blend together beautifully as it contrasts with the orange hues, and the sun continues to peak above the horizon as it settles between clouds.

suguru kisses you when you give it to him, the taste of tea right on his tongue.

he frames it on his bedside, and when you wake in his room the next morning, it greets you along with the back of his head, fast asleep.

your eyes flit to the view outside his window, the same pinks, purples, and orange hues. you tilt your head curiously, brows furrowing. the sun stays at the same spot above the horizon, and when you look at the painting again, the clouds hold the same position and shape.

a chill washes over you, your hearbeat pounding.

.

"what date is it today?" you ask suguru as you wash the potatoes in the sink.

another bag of groceries from suguru. now that you think about it, you don't think you've ever gone to the grocery store since moving.

"is it important?" he responds, slightly snappy. you've begun to notice that he hates it when you ask lately.

you eye him from the side.

"i was thinking of preparing a menu of what we'll eat during the holidays, if it's near."

the furrow on his brows smooths out as you give your answer, and so he says, "december 5."

and you know something is wrong, because that can't be it. it doesn't make sense with the sunrises you've counted.

.

you dream again, more and more as the days go by―dirt roads and your house and suguru's, run-down and empty. more things start breaking in your apartment, and suguru always knows when they need to be fixed.

there's a deep, twisting feeling in your stomach that intensifies, festering under your skin; it worsens in the mornings, when you sit with suguru at your porch and you think you see a crack in the sunrise.

.

sunrise valley the place where the sun never sets! ─── beautiful, bright, and destined for people who live just like you! find your new home here.

[DISCONTINUED] — FOR DEMOLITION ON DECEMBER 7. under investigation for suspicious spiritual activity and missing persons.

[deeplyridiculouslyinlove]

I just rewatched 02 x 07 for the first time since finishing all the books and I can't stop thinking about it. I feel like everyone is either on the side of (1) it was all a big ploy, or (2) that's it for Moiraine and Siuan they can never come back from this--but I really don't think either of those are true.

I think the most in character thing Moiraine could possibly do is forgive Siuan, for the following reasons:

Moiraine knows that she would do the exact same thing that Siuan did here--namely, sacrifice anything (even their relationship and their trust in one another)--for the sake of the world and their mission. And this shared goal, these compatible values, and this mutual understanding is literally what has kept them together despite 20 years of distance and secrecy from the world.

[MINOR BOOK SPOILERS] We see in one of the books that Moiraine believes she and Siuan have made their beds and will lie in them one day by becoming involved in the quest to find the Dragon -- I believe the way she phrases it is about payment coming due for all the rules they've broken and the secrecy etc. that they needed for their quest. If this is her attitude, she is not only willing to give up everything, but expects to give up everything. And she expects it of Siuan as well.

Siuan has already proven how much she would give up for their quest. She became Amyrlin despite, as we learn this same episode, how much she did not want to be trapped in the tower and could not see her future there. She gave up any semblance of a happy life (how she would picture it both with and without Moiraine!) for this quest.

In some ways, if Siuan had just let Moiraine take Rand through a waygate to Falme, it would have actually been a betrayal of their mission. Their mission wasn’t “get Rand to Falme.” It was “protect and train the dragon reborn.” Siuan feels the need to do that as acutely as Moiraine does--and critically, Moiraine knows this about Siuan.

This goes quadruple if Siuan actually did think Moiraine could be a dark friend. Siuan thinks Moiraine lied to her!! And Moiraine knows this too, since Siuan does at least have the chance to say "You lied to me!" Moiraine would understand that if there was any chance Moiraine had been turned or was compelled, Siuan had to try and stop her from taking Rand off to god knows where.

Literally just a few days earlier Moiraine had threatened to have Alanna take Lan’s bond by force if he stood in her way--aka, the way of her mission. At this very moment, Moiraine herself has spent days (weeks?) contemplating what it would mean to betray the autonomy and trust of those she loves most if it means saving the world. And she knows what side she's on.

When Moiraine says, “if you have ever loved me don’t do this” my heart shatters into a million pieces. But that line is not just ,“it will be a betrayal of our love and trust if you compel me." It is that, but it's also a call for Siuan to see Moiraine for MOIRAINE. She’s saying “you know me.” She’s trying to get her (Siuan) to see that what she (Moiraine) is doing is not about her shame and pride but about the mission. Because it is ALWAYS about the mission, Moiraine IS the mission, and Siuan loves her because of that, and Moiraine knows Siuan loves her because of that 

Moiraine clearly hesitates before going through the waygate. Her character isn't one to linger out of shock and betrayal. She lashes out and she puts up distance--we've seen this all season. Moiraine moves forward. So I read her looking at Siuan here as far more "I love you and I'm sorry [I can't help you? it's come to this? we can't reconcile?]" than "How could you?" or "You're a different person to me now." I’m not trying to minimize the violation Moiraine is also feeling in this moment, I just think that if the violation was her primary emotion she would likely behave differently. And if she can have this messy a set of emotions even in the heart of the moment, I have faith she can similarly hold multiple emotions later when reconciling.

The flashback scenes are so heartbreaking but they don’t have to mean that Moiraine and Siuan feel so betrayed and far from those versions of themselves that they will never be together again. Those flashbacks can also be saying “remember when we were those people?” Holding onto those versions of themselves is how they hold onto their love despite this scene.

Those flashbacks also remind us that their relationship in the show is like 50 years old. It is deep. People don't throw away 50 years of relationship without a conversation, even if there is a deep betrayal involved. And that's normal people--not even people who have given up absolutely everything for a cause that the relationship has now gotten wrapped up in. In the books, they are together for a few years and then seemingly go their separate ways when the Dragon is reborn. I don't think the show would have gone out of its way to deepen and lengthen this relationship just to end it so quickly and unceremoniously.

[ask-the-invincible-crew]

Snitches get stitches, Burt.

[justablah56]

they should invent a job that I can do and I don't have to drive super far to get to

[vixvigil]

why is it so difficult to find a microwave that isn’t fuck ugly. inquiring minds want to know

[sophiainspace]

So the formal job offer never arrived last week despite the promise that it would be with me on Thurs or Fri. So my first thought was for my current employers, who’ve been (very generously) waiting to do the paperwork that moves me from one or three months’ notice, in the hope that I can start my new job sooner. So now I’ve told them I’ll give three months notice. Which is no bad thing really, as it takes me to practically the end of my current contract, and starting a new job in Jan is no bad thing in my industry.

But now I’m going to spend the entire weekend - possibly longer if this keeps dragging on - WONDERING IF I REALLY HAVE A JOB AT THE END OF MY CONTRACT OR NOT.

[innocence-wont-save-you]

Ok quick question, can you like, confirm you’re genderfluid? I know that I should technically already know this since I’m your overseer and we are connect to you, but I’ve been headcanoning you as a boy this entire time. Have I like, been misgendering you?

You give your overseer a long, bewildered stare. "Yes? I am genderfluid? What do you—why are you asking me to confirm I'm genderfluid?"

[tennessoui]

I know that Gffa werewolf Obi-Wan is not omegaverse, but what if the force decided it wanted to enter it's grandparent era, like in What's Mine if Yours is Ours? Anakin also thinks werewolf Obi-Wan in the creche is the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen, so a "the force doesn't work like that" pregancy (and c-section birth) wouldn't be the worst thing that's ever happened to him. 

Random person: Obi-wan, you consider yourself a monster because of the whole werewolf thing, right? Obi-Wan: Of course. Random person (who apparently has a death wish): Right, right. So, does that mean your child will also be a monster if they are a werewolf? Obi-Wan: *slow blinks*  Obi-Wan: *books mind healer appointment* Obi-Wan and Anakin: *dispose of rando's body* Obi-Wan: No

oh this is tempting this is tempting but I’m gonna say no to the mpreg like with no to the omegaverse we are aiming for a delicate balance of “needs to use the squick tag” and “it’s fine not to” and mpreg would absolutely tip it over

plus I think I like that they’re Jedi in every other way except for this incredibly dangerous attachment but everyone’s like well I guess it’s fine….we watched him struggle against his instincts for so long we can look the other way in regards to him taking a mate

(After all, the Code says nothing against mates. Just marriages 😏)

Either of them having a baby would probably be a step too far to continue to be Jedi. Obi-Wan has his hands full enough as it is with all the younglings in the creche he can’t possibly look after a pregnant anakin, and Anakin would have nightmares about how protective and demanding a pregnant Obi-Wan would be. The Force can go have another kid and play the game again if it wants grandchildren so bad