#its a good reflection of the powerful men of the world who definitely think of themselves as most important

[theskyexists]

It's too bad that dune cosmologically justifies ultra-genocide through its 'societal evolution' it-had-to-happen-or-we'd-all-'degenerate' concept and the character of the messiah-king Paul (the Ultra Genocider in question) who everybody loves

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

I'm curious what's your thoughts on this new superman to me i think they're trying their best to destroy DC. We finally got someone to actually wear the suit without looking like the suit wears him. I'm sorry I grew up waiting for something with realism now they went back to cartoonish bull. Nothing I can do I just think it's horrible that the TV show guy with 5 o'clock shadow looks better than the movie.

Superhero stories should never care about realism. Superheroes are inherently unrealistic. Even aside from the superpowers, superheroes are representations of ideals. An ideal, by definition, is unrealistic in the sense that it doesn't reflect reality, but what we hope reality can one day become. Superheroes at their best inspire us to work towards those ideals. And even if they don't, they offer us much needed escapism from a world that rarely lives up to our ideals.

In my opinion, "realistic" superhero stories like The Boys or Watchmen are the things that are actively trying to destroy the superhero. Those stories say "Heroes aren't real. Power will always corrupt and humanity can never rise above its base nature. Men will always be petty, violent, selfish, and greedy." It's nihilistic, defeatist bullshit and I hate those kinds of stories. And, ironically, the "realistic" superhero stories ignore all the good in reality. Heroes do exist. People like Daniel Penny and Kyle Rittenhouse are heroes. Firefighters are heroes. The people who run into traffic to pull children out of the way of cars are heroes. The people who dive into rushing rivers to rescue drowning animals are heroes. Every single day ordinary heroes risk their lives, their wealth, and their happiness to protect others. So why is it so "unrealistic" to assume that, if super powers did exist, that some of those people might get those powers, instead of assuming that great power will only ever come to the worst of us?

[lapdogchase]

listened to a podcast from tumblr ceo matt mullenweg abt his plans for tumblr and such and wrote down some quotes i found Interesting . (some are not word for word bc auditory processing + memory etc but i tried to stick to what he said as much as i could)

(on being ceo of a social network) "it is as hard as being the leader of a country"

"it needs to do a good job at showing you things you want to see- so both the people you follow but maybe also exposing you to new things you don't know about yet"

"people want their own home on the web, they want it to be something reflects them, not the needs of an advertiser"

"how do we make this amazing and really give the tumblr community what they deserve, and also give the world an alternative from these closed-proprietary advertisement-driven social networks?"

"you can have custom themes, you can customize it every little bit .. what we wanna do is making it be the best of both worlds, giving you the full customization that u currently have on tumblr, that u also have on wordpress, but still provide a streamlined interface, particularly on mobile ... you kind of move in and out of that full customization"

"that's ultimately what we're about, is giving power in the hands of users"

"what people really want isnt what they say they want ... its kind of like expressed preferences vs stated preferences ... thats probably why [other social medias] dont give u total control over ur algorithm"

"i want to have a path where you can start with, call it 'just' a tumblr ... but if you want to turn that into an e-commerce store, or customize it in a different way, or build a newsletter, or a mailing list, or create a membership site- these are all things that are supported by wordpress today"

"tumblr's userbase are primarily young .. more women than men which isnt common in technology .. its a very safe place and vibrant community for lgbt+, i think its over a quarter of the userbase.. kind of a place for art and artists"

"how do we make that a path to the wordpress open source community ... excited about ..bringing a younger demographic into wordpress"

"[the amount of new users from twitter/reddit are] less than you would think in the long term"

(to reddit/twt migrants) "give us feedback! what do you miss from the old thing when you move over?"

"i'd definitely like it to be as big as twitter or instagram"

"for tumblr for example i think [AI] could make our developers a lot more productive, their coding could be checked/tested by ai, .. that'll allow us to do a lot more .. maybe our pace of development could increase."

"ai can be a huge help in assisting on moderation, if it could help flag things before people even report them, that someone could look at and review."

"the algorithm [for the feed/dashboard] is a form of ai- its really machine learning, people use the terms interchangeably- if we could make the feed a lot better, we could tweak it and really learn the things u want to see and the people u want to follow"

"it could provide some really cool tools, when u think of the generative ai stuff, whether its dall-e or midjourney. so much of what people do on tumblr is expressing art and creativity, and theres some people who are resistant to this, but im actually hearing far more artists that are like 'wow! this is another tool in my toolbox!' its not just like using it instead of doing ur work, it's helping with the first draft, or helping u come up with new ideas, or maybe accelerating part of a workflow. so i see it like a new type of paintbrush, or new colors they can use. they see it as a new way to express their creativity. to me that's also the future. .. just like any other tool, like when we moved from typewriters to word processors."

(asked if generative AI worries him) "bad actors using ai to do more bad things .. that's definitely smth that's gonna happen, that's true with any new technology. if u rob a bank before, u used to have to get away on a horse, now you can get away on a car [laugh]. so like, think of it like that. we don't say "oh, banks are gonna be robbed so much more cuz now people can drive away faster". the good guys have cars too, so the police have cars .. it becomes something that is part of society .. there's more good people than bad people"

[scarlet--wiccan]

Considering Wanda has now become the Darkhold, I'm very interested in her rulling the Flickering Realm - Chthon's dimension. It would be an opportunity to explore its politics and civilization of the N'garai, as it is their home base. What are your thoughts?

I don't think Wanda is interested in ruling anybody, especially not in place of Chthon. I imagine she would feel very strongly that anyone who has been subjugated by him deserves freedom and autonomy. The N'Garai... kinda suck, when you actually look at their history, but they seem to have some kind of caste system and really terrible power hierarchies. I would love to see what kind of change would come from Wanda dismantling those power structures. Defeating Kierrok, the N'Garai Madbhara who terrorized Hexfinder's ancestors, would also be a great way to resolve Wanda's conflict with Nicola.

I'm definitely very interested in the internal politics and societies of demons and other "monster" races. We've seen a lot of development in this area with vampires and, to a lesser degree, werewolves. Krakoan-era X-Men titles have explored autonomy and sovereignty in Otherworld and Limbo, to varying degrees of success. I think it's very clear that these political concepts are on a lot of folks' minds, and it's being reflected in our speculative fiction-- for better, or usually, for worse.

Anyways, while I don't think Wanda should necessarily feel responsible for Chthon's legacy, I do believe that she feels empathy for other beings and races that have been impacted by him. With her powers and status as the Living Darkhold, she's uniquely suited to act as an ambassador for these communities. We have already seen this with K'lay/the Flickering Realm-- in Scarlet Witch #9, she's seen advocating to the In-Betweener for K'lay's autonomy-- and with Elderspawn such as the Bricklayer in Crypt of Shadows (2023). I suspect we might see something similar with the vampires in Blood Hunt.

I would really love for Wanda to become, like, the main go-to character for anything to do with the Elder Gods, Inner Planes (which includes hell-dimensions, mythical realms, and places like K'lay), and Elderspawn. It would put her on the same level as Doctor Strange, while still allowing her to have her own unique thing, as Stephen is generally more concerned with the Outer Realms. It would also allow witchcraft and Earthly magic to retain more of a unique flavor-- I don't love how much Wanda, Agatha, and Jericho's powers have blended into typical Marvel sorcery in the last couple years.

Something I've been wanting for a long time is to get a comprehensive, company-wide update to the lineage of the Elder Gods and the structure of the Inner and Outer Planes, sort of like what HoXPoX did for X-Men comics. Initially, that's what I thought G.O.D.S. was gonna be, and I'm kind of glad that it's not-- I don't really think Hickman's ethos would be a good fit. Instead, I feel we're starting to see it in Immortal Thor, which is wonderful, because Ewing really understands what those sort of mythology-based stories need, and he's already done a lot of esoteric worldbuidling that will cross over nicely. Thor is one of the living characters who is most closely connected to Gaea-- Wanda, as Chthon's keeper and inheritor, would be a really good compliment in exploring this world.

[femmefatalevibe]

how do you reconcile being a feminist, single, and a high-value woman? maybe I'm misunderstanding the concept but I always thought HVW and hypergamy were all very centered on seeking a male partner.

Hi love! Great question. I think your curiosity offers a great opportunity to dive a bit more into my personal views and philosophy.

I believe that the goal of feminism is to protect all women and provide them legal protection, structural resources, and social power to live equitably in society. In my eyes, a high-value woman is one who is unapologetically self-respecting and sets her life up in a way to allows her to work towards goals that meet her needs in all areas of life.

Hypergamy, by its modern definition, is the idea that women "date up" to intertwine their sexual relationships with men to those who offer more or equally high social, financial, or sexual capital to them. The traditional idea of hypergamy was exclusively referred to as "marrying up" as marriage was the only way women could achieve most resources (like a bank account, credit card, housing, and certain medical care – it's so terrifying, honestly).

In the latter case, hypergamy is nearly synonymous with centralizing men. Before women gained certain freedoms (in the U.S. this was mostly in the 1960-70s), centralizing men was a survival mechanism, not a preference or act of self-imposed oppression.

I believe in the modern world where women can have their own bank accounts, careers, and access to birth control (the latter one is an anxiety-inducing topic at this point in time, ugh), women are given the choice to be hypergamous either while centralizing or decentralizing men.

I believe that you can uphold hypergamous standards in your dating life without centralizing men in your life. For me, personally, my relationship or dating status has no bearing on how happy or successful I am in my life. No man (or lack of one in my life) will ever determine my self-worth or reflect my progress in life. My metrics of fulfillment and accomplishment stem from thriving in my professional life, staying in good health, practicing consistently healthy habits (WFPB diet, regular exercise, mental health hygiene, sexual wellness, mindfulness, self-care, etc.), and maintaining nourishing friendships. Dating and my interactions with men (in non-platonic ways) are fun ways I enrich my life, so I believe this mentality embodies the modern – albeit hyper-progressive – definition of hypergamy. Remaining single allows me to enjoy all of the ways men can uplevel my life – socially, financially (to the degree some nighttime activities, such as dinners, drinks, car services, club fees, etc. are paid for – no sugaring activities or anything), and sexually without the aspects of dating men that would contradict my sense of self-respect or autonomy. I'm not personally designed to be a man's therapist or feel like I should have to include a man's needs in all of my life or day-to-day decisions because we're sexually involved with each other. I have a strict vetting process regarding who I will entertain in my dating/sexual life to ensure they're adding value to my life and there's mutual compatibility considering the type of arrangement we're both seeking.

Personally, I believe the only way to maintain equity in dating is to remain single, which allows me to meet all of my other standards in life. I will never sacrifice my life goals for a man, but I do not believe that means you have to approach dating or sexual relationships from a black-and-white perspective. However, if I'm going to date men (which can be a headache for certain), I believe they need to enrich my life in some way – whether that's interesting conversations, gaining business acumen, social relationships, fun sexual experiences, or just learning about different cultures/world perspectives.

From my observations, women who use hypergamy as an excuse to centralize their life or aspirations around a man are glamorizing regressive/oppressive ideologies (like submitting to a partner or relying on men financially) as a last attempt to uphold the patriarchy as women wake up to the fact that having to do all of society's emotional labor plus having to contort ourselves in a world designed for men, namely in our professional lives, is not the truest form of feminism out there (not to mention it's lack of intersectionality, but that's a whole other rant lol). I don't use the "hypergamy" tag on my posts anymore for this reason, though. I believe that many people are conflating the textbook concept of hypergamy with regressive political agendas, which I will never promote let alone subscribe to.

This is all just my take, so I hope it all makes sense and resonates with some members of this amazing community. Every woman should figure out what approaches to all of these matters would make her the most genuinely happy and fulfilled regardless of society's expectations or cultural norms.

Sending love xx

[therealslimshakespeare]

https://www.tumblr.com/precious-little-scoundrel/758177434192445440/im-curious-about-if-you-think-that-through

i guess just like. ugh i always struggle to put this into words because i love that your other readers love her and i don’t want to offend anyone or sound mean but. the stuff about maureen not respecting boundaries in regards to sex and using her power and privilege to get what she wants just left me with a really bad taste in my mouth. of course i’m sympathetic that her upbringing plays a massive role in this and i do feel awful that she’s had bad experiences with men in the past but i feel like these sorts of actions are not only reflective of your upbringing but also your character as a whole. and i feel like by the time she joined up she was definitely old and grown enough to know better, especially because you’ve previously described her as educated and worldly. like either she’s not really those things or she is and just still chose to cling to these weird and gross and harmful behaviours. i don’t know. i guess i’m just wondering if in your eyes she’ll ever be completed absolved of those actions due to her own backstory + whatever you have in store for her arc

I see, I think. ☺️ First off, to me -this is fiction. Which both adds and subtracts a layer. It’s a mirror for a lot of real life and yet it’s also a silly creation of mine. So that’s interesting and it’s always interesting to learn how other creators view their creations and what position they take regarding their creations flaws. I believe in moral right and wrong, absolutely, and having my own personal reasons for why this particular topic of consent affects me, I find writing about it and its many iterations to be free therapy of a sort. Welcome to the ride 😂

But. IMO, by the very definition of absolution, that requires someone with authority on it to do it. Someone she’s harmed. In the instance of Gale he’s partly given that, and will further but only once both of them acknowledge the harm in the first place. So, I don’t have that authority to absolve her, he does. And as a creator I’ll write that. But I’m also not demanding my readers give it either.

Same with the folks she hurt back home.

I may be a cynic or maybe I’ve merely had plenty of people confide in me and grown wary, but I know that a lot of people have done very wrong things in the past. Even had whole habits that hurt others. Seasons of life. Etc.

Everything bad they did back then stays bad. Even when they change and become what we might consider a “good person”.

Can they never truly be a good person due to past bad actions? There are as many opinions on that as there are people in the world.

I’d argue a massive change in behavior is required, in some cases making amends, certainly an awareness and guilt and change. But it’s the people they hurt that get to absolve them. I think if I were to withhold kindness or grace for anyone who’s fucked up or been fucked up for periods of their life yet now seem to have changed, I should soon run out of acquaintances.

Being worldly and educated has been the mark of some of the most evil people in history. It changes nothing about behavior. That’s a moral choice. Not an educated one, I would argue.

[psalmonesermons]

Love is a weapon Part 1

What is love?

Question; is God’s love conditional or unconditional?

We are all born with the need to love and to be loved. That is why love is such a big seller of songs, books, and movies etc. The saying that ‘Love makes the world go round’ is probably at least partly true theologically speaking in the sense that it

is the love of God that keeps the whole creation in existence.

In the English language 'love' has all sorts of different shades of meaning. For instance we say I love pineapple, I love my dog, I love my wife, or I love God. The depth of sentiment hopefully is not the same in these examples!

The fact that there are distinct types of love can be illustrated by the four Greek words for love used in the New Testament era [1]:

1. Phileo; the love of a friend or a brother.

2. Storge; natural love like a mother’s love (for her child).

3. Eros; sexual love.

4. Agape; the love of God.

The first three are types of human love and at best are only pale reflections of the agape love, the selfless love of God. When the believer is filled and moved by the love of God then they can surpass the human loves.

An example might be, if a young man or woman with Christian parents is called to the mission field, the storge love of the parents might tempt them to dissuade their child. However, the agape love would overcome this and send them out with a blessing.

The love of God is not indulgent and can be tough!

There is a lovely revealing use of the two different words used in scripture for love i.e. agapeo and phileo in John 21:15-17. Jesus asks Peter if he loves (agapeo-selfless love) him twice but Peter answers with phileo (friendly or brotherly love). Jesus then uses Peter’s phileo when he asks a third time.

The message is that agape love is a sacrificial love that is willing to lay down its very life for God.

Agape (love) became the characteristic word of Christianity. The Holy Spirit brought new meaning to this word. Agape love is sacrificial and selfless and seeks to do good to all men but especially to our fellow believers. Where does this love come from?

Romans 5:5 Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us

Definition: To fight dirty means to use any means at your disposal to win in each conflict situation. In a physical fight it could be biting, gouging, head butting, a blow below the belt. Not observing the Marquis of Queensberry rules! Or using a weapon or anything else to hand!

Fighting dirty has the connotation of doing ‘whatever its takes’ to win whether fair or unfair. What about our spiritual battles in situations or where all the negative person to person interactions place especially when the living stones rub together .

Can the weapon of love be used in these circumstances?

[1] CS Lewis The four loves

The greatness of Love

Definition of agape love: 1 Corinthians 13 is the Greatest Gift 4 Love suffers long and is kind ; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; 5does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; 6 does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; 7 bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

8 Love never fails.

13 And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

The power of love

Rom 8:37-39. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Love is the glue that holds us to God.

Love is the glue that holds us to each other.

We are stuck fast to God and each other!

Clearly this agape type of love is indeed the most powerful thing in heaven and the cosmos that nothing, yes absolutely nothing, can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

Amen

Prayer

In Part 2 we focus in in how might be used as a weapon and also give an opinion as to whether God’s love is conditional or unconditional?

[themoviemanifesto]

Okay… so…

I will say that this post is definitely coming from a place of male privilege and know that I respect and believe the victims above all else…

It sucks that artists I have adored in the past have turned out to be such shitty people. The older I get, the harder it is getting for me to separate a lot of art from the artists. The Cosby Show was an essential part of my childhood. Essential. Bill Cosby, Himself was one of the first stand-up specials I watched on repeat. I did my Picture Pages on Nickelodeon and ate Jell-O Pudding Pops with glee. Now, Bill Cosby is a verified scumbag. A sexual deviant who was able to thrive due to the amount of power and influence he had. Disappointing doesn’t even cover it. The man is a human atrocity.

Annie Hall is one of the greatest romantic comedies of all time. This is, of course, partially due to the incredible performance of Diane Keaton, but also due to the witty neurosis put on display by its writer/director/star, Woody Allen. Woody Allen created so many films that explored romance and humor AND drama from such an interesting perspective. Manhattan, Sleeper, Bananas, Hannah and Her Sisters, Match Point, etc, etc, etc; all part of Allen’s genius. It’s too man the man behind them is a sexual predator. You can’t listen to the stories of abuse and truly believe they were fabrications created to sway divorce proceedings. The man was a monster and it’s hard to bask in the good of his works anymore because of it.

In high school, I felt like an outsider for a few of those years. I changed my personal style and the music I listened to as a reflection of how I felt. Marilyn Manson’s Antichrist Superstar become one of my favorite albums of all time. Dark, but incredibly creative, I found joy in its bleakness. I found a reason to keep going in its raging, nihilistic tone. The Beautiful People was the smash hit, but so much of that album resonated with me: Tourniquet, The Man That You Fear, Angel With the Scabbed Wings, and Dried Up, Tied Up, and Dead to the World. Bangers. Now I listen to that album and I think of how the adults were right: Marilyn Manson IS a terrible person. Marilyn Manson IS evil. Another sexual predator exerting his power over those younger and weaker than him. I find the stories of Manson’s behavior reprehensible and I can’t, in good conscience, listen to something that at one time meant so much to me.

The list of bad people doesn’t end there. Sadly, it just keeps growing. It is almost hard to keep up with. I try, hard as I may, to keep up with it and keep my fandom in check. I can’t say I ever was a fan of Danny Masterson — I always found That 70s Show to be irritating and off-putting — but it sure does suck to hear how awful of a human being he turned out to be, and how many people have been making excuses for him for a long time. It’s always disappointing to find out who signed the “Roman Polanski letter.” I get that Rosemary’s Baby is a horror classic, but Polanski is another terrible person. We don’t need to forgive him. We don’t need to let him back into the circle of creatives, and if he comes back to this country, it should be to face prison time.

It’s upsetting that talented and powerful men turn out to be such pieces of shit.

[magnoliamyrrh]

Paul is a fucked up manchild who berates his mom the second he gets supernatural powers and sees himself as better than everyone. That’s only if you can get past herbert’s awful writing where his villains gotta be fat and gay and he repeats these facts every single time they switch povs as if the audience has somehow forgotten (seriously, highlight every time herbert mentions the villain is fat. It’s so common it’s just boring stale writing). Paul in dune is the worst kinda self insert fanfic. Dune is such a shitty book girl how do you enjoy it

ohh he definetely is a man child; i feel bad for him in like the first half of the first book mainly bc hes a teenager, hes 15, like, a teenager teenager not an almost adult 17-18. he may come from a powerful family but hes just thrust into very messed up circumstances, more or less tortured to prove hes human, has to grapple with being some sort of raised-to-be-exceptional genetic experiment and being used in some weird intergalactic lie and war, and incredible amount of historical pressure and other things. like, at 15, hes more kid than adult dealing w this. but also, while being 15, he is smart, and charming to others, and he quickly rises to great infleunce and is good at manipulation. and yea the moment he gets some more power he turns it even against his own mother, against himself, and against others and the longer they go on the more insufferbale he becomes; what ground of expeptionalism in him existed gets raised tenfold -hes an inherently flaued character by all means who even when he tries he fucked up badly many times. i mean like hell, among all the shit he ends up doing, even just that thing that he himself didnt have the power to put shit in order, so he ends up forcing it on his son, like how he was shoved into a bunch of things when he was younger

and yes lol i am well aware of the villan thing. i do get that in this context the "fat" thing and even the gay pedo thing is moreso an allegory for greed and the keeping of and hoarding of precious things (im Not saying fat ppl are like this mind u, im not saying its good either, but in many cultures fat has or is indeed revered as a sign of wealth; and this is used to contrast to those who dont have, and i reckon this is where it comes from in the story). but yes, i do think thats uhh i hate this word problamatic. the fat thing, the gay thing, the pedo thing. definetely part of an ongoing issue of attaching several of those characteristics to villans, and also of making villans generally ugly, thus associsting the two together. like yup, its definitely not good

idk tho, i think. dune was written in the 1960s by a white dude. like, it doesnt suprise me that that stuff is in there. ive read plenty of things that have parts of them that are problamatic or outdated or offensive and it just,, is what it is. like idk i can enjoy something while also being aware and critical of the parts of it that are fucked up - i think if i wasnt able to, i wouldnt be able to like,,,, explore a lot of the literature that exists out there, especially older literature, no matter from where its from in the world or if its written by men or women. most of it or most authors at least have written some weird shit or held some weird shit. idk just a stupid parallel off the top of my head i love the 1001 nights stories - i grew up with them - but theyre filled to the brim with weird shit and problamatic things and sexism and racism and slavery and whatever else, like absolutely filled - to an extend they reflect the times. i still, however, enjoy reading them tho

i also dont know how much paul is a self insert - maybe. ive never read the dude as sympathetic or a sympathetic anti-hero much. i did find the idea that out of this all-female order theyd have the idea that a male would be the one w the greatest power and some sort of prophesied force of power weird, sooo idk maybe. but idk, if its a self insert i rlyyy dont think its supoosed to be a flattering one much. the dude just gets worse and worse as the books progress, and he ends up after fucking up so much and being too weak to fix it, exiled, alone, spending his last yesrs wondering in loneliness and deep regret. so, i dont think its shown that his superiority complex or anything else brought him something good; it just lead to tragedy

mostly i like the series for the intricacy of its plot and the way its introduced, the messages it tries to send even if it at times fails or does so badly. like yea, its not perfect, but it is trying to ssy something about foreign meddeling and co-opting of religions and cultures and desperste situstions, or colonialism and capitalism, of exploitation, greed, power, etc. and also in very large part its lore, its scifi elements, its weird out there mysticism, and all the parts of it that are very, very weird. i am fascinsted by the world that this dude created. im a really big fan of magical realism and to an extent the books are like this - because they start more normal and over time become more and more mystical and fantastical and weird and less grounded as more concepts, creatures, and affects of the spice are introduced. i also do like that the main character isnt an actual hero. all this talk of prophecy and whatever, but its all bad, and it goes so fucking bad. its to an extent a subversion of classical fantasy tropes, combined with space scifi.... and yes. there are times when the writing isnt great, or when its outdated, or when it hammers things again and again (like the villan thing). i also think in many places the writing is intriguing, careful, and calls for attention and contemplation of what is happening

and idk apart from something like 1001 nights..... to an extend, i feel abt dune as i feel about game of thrones. i rly love those books. yes theyre writing by an old white man. yes there are parts of them (less than the show id say) which are problamatic and outdated and i could go on a whole list about that. but, i still enjoy them. i think the world grrm martin created is insanely insanelyyy complex, beautiful, fascinating, the lore is some of the deepest and most intriguing ive ever seen, and the character writing - the sheer complexity of the characters, the willingness to show how fucked up humans are and how often things are so stupidly complicated, the way he can get us to love even insufferable characters, the way there are no perfect good heros, the broader anti-war and even climate change message, the harsh and grounded realism of much of the series,,, the way theyre also kinda like magic realism, bc over the books magic keeps coming back more and more, the world becomes more full of mystic and mystery and prophecies which arent 100% true, the way the books are largely a subversion of fantasy tropes. like, yea. theyve got issues, grrm martins writings got issues. but i think theyre brilliant in many ways at the same time 🤷‍♀️

so i guess. yea. im definitely not saying the books dont have issues or theyre perfect or theyre the peak of literature. but im still able to enjoy parts of them

[hangree1]

Modern Man: Timeless Style

In today’s world of ever-changing trends, the modern man stands at a crossroads between innovation and tradition. He’s bold yet refined, confident but never loud. And at the heart of his wardrobe is a philosophy that never fades: timeless style. It’s not about chasing what’s hot this season — it’s about building a look that lasts a lifetime.

“Modern Man: Timeless Style” is more than just a fashion concept; it’s a reflection of who he is — strong, grounded, and always evolving with purpose.

Redefining Style in the 21st Century

The definition of a well-dressed man has changed. Gone are the days when a suit was the only symbol of sophistication. Today, the modern man’s style embraces a balance between function and flair. It’s no longer about having more—it’s about having better.

Timeless style isn’t stuck in the past. It learns from history and reimagines it for the present. It’s about smart layering, neutral tones, structured fits, and classic silhouettes that never go out of style. It’s about choosing pieces that evolve with your lifestyle — not expire with the next trend cycle.

The Foundation of a Timeless Wardrobe

Building a timeless wardrobe starts with the basics — those versatile pieces that every man should own. Think of them as your style anchors.

1. The White Shirt:

Clean, crisp, and effortlessly elegant. Whether paired with a tailored blazer or worn casually with denim, the white shirt remains an icon of timeless menswear.

2. Tailored Trousers:

Forget baggy or overly skinny fits. The modern man knows the power of well-tailored trousers that complement his form while allowing room to breathe and move.

3. Structured Outerwear:

A classic trench coat, a fitted blazer, or a timeless leather jacket — these are outerwear essentials that instantly elevate any look.

4. Quality Footwear:

Leather loafers, brogues, or minimal sneakers — what you wear on your feet says a lot about your attention to detail. Invest in shoes that are built to last and styled to impress.

5. Neutral Tones:

Earthy hues, navy, grey, black, and white — these colors never go out of style. They mix and match seamlessly, offering maximum versatility.

Style with Substance

The modern man doesn’t dress just to impress — he dresses to express. His clothing speaks for him before he says a word. That’s why timeless style is rooted in authenticity. It’s not about mimicking magazine models or social media influencers — it’s about refining your personal aesthetic.

Timeless style works for every age, every stage of life, and every occasion. From formal wear to street-smart casuals, it adapts to context while always staying true to its core: simplicity, quality, and elegance.

Fashion vs. Style: Knowing the Difference

Fashion is fast. It’s flashy, unpredictable, and often fleeting. Style, on the other hand, is permanent. It’s the calm in the chaos. The modern man knows the difference — and chooses style.

While fashion trends come and go, timeless style remains a constant because it’s built on elements that endure: good tailoring, clean lines, and understated confidence. And the best part? It ages well. A well-made coat or a classic pair of boots will look just as good five years from now as they do today.

The Confidence Connection

Timeless style isn’t just about Men Tee Shirt in Pakistan— it’s about how those clothes make you feel. When you look sharp, you feel confident. And confidence is the most powerful thing a man can wear.

That’s why the modern man invests in his appearance. Not out of vanity, but out of respect — for himself and for the impression he leaves behind. Whether he’s in a meeting, on a date, or simply walking down the street, his style says he’s put together, in control, and ready for whatever comes next.

The Role of Grooming and Details

No timeless look is complete without attention to grooming. A sharp haircut, a clean shave or a well-kept beard, and a signature scent — these are all part of the style equation. Accessories matter too: a leather belt, a sleek watch, or a pair of classic sunglasses can transform an outfit from ordinary to unforgettable.

It’s the little things that leave a lasting impression.

Sustainability Is the New Luxury

The modern man is also conscious of how his fashion choices affect the world. Timeless style naturally aligns with sustainable fashion. Instead of buying cheap, disposable clothing, he chooses quality over quantity. He values pieces that are ethically made, built to last, and environmentally responsible.

This shift toward sustainability isn’t just about trends — it’s about values. And that, too, is timeless.

Conclusion: Dress Today, Inspire Tomorrow

In a fast world, timeless style is a reminder to slow down and dress with purpose. The modern man doesn’t dress to fit in—he dresses to stand out without shouting. He knows that what’s truly stylish isn’t loud or fleeting — it’s lasting, personal, and powerful.

[deastrumquodvicis]

Dark Genesis: the Birth of the Psi Corps (review)

TLDR: 3.5/5

I’m a big Babylon 5 fan, always have been. Tie-in novels have always been a favorite genre. When I heard that the Psi Corps trilogy was well-done, and, importantly, canon, I eagerly loaded book one onto my Kindle and finished it in two days, a typical speed for me. As I understand it—though please correct me if I’m wrong—these stories were seeded from the B5verse series bible, and info was intended to trickle out during the original plans for the Telepath War and Crusade’s later seasons.

The good:

It’s canonical, and it’s always interesting to get world-building that was never committed to screen. The slow emergence of the Corps and what it meant felt very much like a dark reflection of Marvel’s X-Men—a group of people with a recently-awakened genetic mutation being persecuted by, in this case, “mundanes”, given classification based on the strength of their power, and eventually given a home where they could use their gifts without shame, and with an anti-group picking up strays and carrying out rebellious, almost terroristic, acts. I suppose that’s not all that much of a surprise with JMS having written the outline, though not the book itself. It’s also interesting to see non-unified pre-EarthGov components, and hints of the construction of EarthDome itself along with the Psi Corps facility. Definite reflections on how Byron’s group saw themselves, and the mistakes they wanted to avoid. Getting first contact with the Centauri was cool, including their opinions on the telepath thing (and Narn-bashing, because, yep, that’s the Centauri).

The bad (or at least the disorienting):

The book took place over something like seventy years. We see four generations of the rebels, and the birth of the fifth, while we get two should-have-term-limits men in power in charge of the Corps and its creation. Yes, the book is divided into four parts, but it became hard to connect to either group and feel for them, even if you don’t hate the Byron arc of the show. It also became hard to keep track of who anyone looked like, because it was an extremely dialogue-heavy, descriptive-light sort of book, and trusted the reader to keep track of who initiated the conversation (very little in the way of “dialogue,” Name said, and it didn’t take a teep to see his mood had soured, instead more “dialogue.” “Dialogue?” “More dialogue.” “Even more dialogue.” “But dialogue?” “No, dialogue.”) The rebels used code-names among themselves, particularly in the first two generations, but the EarthGov types used their, well, government names, and it was hard to know when Blood, Mercy, Monkey, and so on, were being referred to. That got better as the generations went on. But no one really had a distinct voice without descriptors, and rarely was a physical feature mentioned except when the characters were first introduced, at which point, you didn’t know if they were major characters or not. And I really didn’t care for the ending with the baby, it cheapened the whole thing into almost George Lucas (derogatory) levels of retconning. A true “seriously?” moment. And it didn’t feel like Babylon 5. In fact, if it weren’t a worldbuilding puzzle piece for B5, my rating would be lower.

Other:

The Corps uniforms—gloves and badges—didn’t have a clear introduction. I think the badges were only mentioned once, gloves twice. I suppose the author expected the reader to remember Talia’s (iirc) explanation. Some familiar surnames popped up, and an explanation that because the telepath gene travels on the mitochondrial DNA, the daughters take their mother’s name, felt like it was a bit of an excuse to have a Ms. Alexander around. I get what they were going for, but still. The fact-finding trip to Venus was also a bit mixed, and while I enjoyed most of what came out of it, there was something that happened that had me going “really? Like, doesn’t that kind of contradict the plot point in the show with Lyta?” And why are our main rebel telepaths all P12s or P5s? Granted, there was a P0 and a P8, but almost everyone in the rebellion was P12. Would have been nice to have a P10 or a P3 or something, with only the matrilineal line of rebel leaders hitting P12, and more inspiring if none of them reached double-digits. (I know, the baby at the end needed to be P12 for Reasons, something something Psi Corps breeding program being validated, but variety is nice.)

And guys? The cover is so ‘90s.

[curtklingermanposts]

Making a Nation Great

Righteousness Exalts a Nation

Proverbs 14:34 Righteousness exalteth a nation: but sin is a reproach to any people. Pure and simple, righteousness exalts a nation. That means if a nation is to be great, its people must walk righteously, which means walking in the righteousness of Jesus. This includes allowing our hearts to be convicted when Holy Spirit is convicting us. We can grieve Him, and our hearts can become cold and indifferent. It’s the path to a seared conscience. This also involves repentance, in which we change our heart, thought process, and direction.  No political system will elevate a nation in itself. Of course, it may reflect the heart of its citizens, especially when they have a say in who governs them. Naturally, it does not necessarily represent the entirety of its population. That will vary in percentage. That being said, it might be a good idea to ask the Lord for His wisdom when it comes to voting, if you have that right. Is it a good idea to vote for those whose policies are not in alignment with God? When reading the Bible, what do you find about just and unjust leaders? They definitely had profound effects on their nations. Psalm 33:12 Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD; and the people whom He hath chosen for His own inheritance.

Sin is a Reproach to Any People

Juxtaposed to the results of righteousness is the consequences of sin. A sinful nation suffers greatly. When Israel continued to sin against God, He eventually brought judgment to the nation. He was very patient and longsuffering in calling them to repentance. Finally, He dispersed the people amongst the nations of the world as a consequence of their idolatry, and the nation no longer existed. The physical land that once flourished, became desolate. However, true to His promise and nature, the Lord gathered His people back into the land. Once again it became the nation of Israel. This truth points out the reliability of the Bible. Very few people thought this would ever happen, especially since Israel did not exist for centuries.    The conditions of a nation are very much linked to the spiritual realm. It’s not so much the result of physical activities. For example, some try to implement policies to curb “global warming,” to include what kind of vehicles people drive. First, mankind will not destroy the earth. It would be arrogant to think it’s in our power. To be sure, we should be good stewards of what God has given us; however, the Bible reveals how the earth comes to an end. In fact, it gives the true definition of global warming. 2 Peter 3:13 But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up. Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, Looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat? Nevertheless we, according to His promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. By the way, God made provision for the CO2 as the result of fossil fuel usage. How so? CO2 is plant food. Plants convert CO2 to oxygen. Not to get lost in those weeds, but it is good to underscore God is greater than anything man can do. All rebellion will be put to an end forever! God is shaking the earth, and calling people to repentance. People mock the disciples of Jesus Christ, and the Word of God (see 2 Peter 3:3-9). Ultimately, they are mocking God, Himself. This too, will end. In the meantime, He is patient. 2 Peter 3:9 The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. 2 Peter 3:14-18 Therefore, beloved, since you look for these things, be diligent to be found by Him in peace, spotless and blameless, and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation; just as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him, wrote to you, as also in all his letters, speaking in them of these things, in which are some things hard to understand, which the untaught and unstable distort, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction. You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, be on your guard so that you are not carried away by the error of unprincipled men and fall from your own steadfastness, but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory, both now and to the day of eternity. Amen (NASB).

perfectfaith.org

[americancinema]

Cancel Culture’s Impact on Comedy Films 

A term that is often used in modern culture is “cancel culture”. It is a very polarizing term that has had a large impact on the entertainment industry in particular. This makes for a fascinating opportunity to do a case study on something so prevalent in modern cinema. I zeroed in on the impact cancel culture has had on comedy films. Through my case, I want to present how the reputation of specific comedy films has been tainted and how to differentiate if the societal view being shifted is justified or without warrant. The main part of comedy films I believe has certainly been impacted is satire. Due to it traditionally aiming to "punch up" at powerful structures. Through my research in this study, my mission is to unveil what type of impact cancel culture has had on comedy in cinematic world, for better or for worse.

In an article called Tug of War, it states that “instead of cancel culture as first-amendment suppression, it can perhaps be viewed as another expression of free speech.” (Lopez, 2021). In a research paper written by Chelsey N. Fortner, it states that while many believe that cancel culture should be celebrated because it holds people accountable, others believe that it violates our right of free speech. Critics of cancel culture argue that this view is an “emotionally charged overreaction, which stymies a constructive dialogue and communication between opposing viewpoints.”(Fortner, 2020). 

The image below presents a poll featuring four distinct definitions of cancel culture, reflecting the varied perceptions individuals have of the term. This poll serves as an illustration of the controversial and often misunderstood nature of cancel culture. In the context of my case study, this poll highlights the differing perspectives within the audience of a comedy film, creating the controversy surrounding said film.

To make my case study as effective as possible, I started my research with finding films that now have a general consensus of being controversial in some aspect and that could qualify to be a target of cancel culture. Such films include the following: The Interview (2014), White Chicks (2004), and lastly the cult classic Mean Girls (2004).

The film The Interview (2014) - is a political satire comedy that has dealt with a  considerable amount of controversy and threats of boycott due to its portrayal of North Korea's leader, highlighting the impact of sensitive political content on comedy. The movie faced so much heat that it was no longer able to be released in theaters.  In the following clip, it summarizes the portrayal of North Korea’s Leader through a specific scene in the film. The purpose of the scene is for comedic relief, however it was deemed to be insensitive and disrespectful.

The film White Chicks (2004) - is a Comedy film which involves two African American men that play FBI agents disguising themselves as white women, this film deals with racial and gender-related themes. In an article from Entertainment Weekly, Marlon Wayans, an actor in the film who has been in the industry for over three decades spoke on his belief about cancel culture in the film industry stating, "You know who loves White Chicks the most? White chicks,". "That's how you know it's a good movie. For us, I think a good joke in comedy is when the people you make fun of laugh the loudest. And what's beautiful is that we're equal-opportunity offenders. It was a great exploration of gender, of race, of pop culture, and done with kid gloves so everybody could laugh. And I think that's what makes it a cult classic to this day." Regardless of Wayne's perspective as well as other advocates of the film, there is still backlash in regards to its potentially insensitive humor that consists of objectifying women and racial stereotyping. The following clip consists of scenes that were deemed as funny in the controversial film.

 The film Mean Girls (2004) - is a film that is said to promote diet culture and unrealistic beauty standards for women. Mean girls is a classic film that is loved by many. Compared to the other movies that I chose to research, it does not have as much controversy surrounding it. After reading different perspectives concerning different aspects of the movie, this is the information that I gathered. Many view this movie in a positive light due to its relatability for the real life struggles that women go through, while others find that it advocates for disordered eating and body image concerns.

 Eating disorders are extremely common in young women and in a critique of the literature on etiology of eating disorders it states that “Eating disorders are one of the significant problems in the care of adolescents and even children. These complex disorders are believed to arise from interaction of multiple risk factors. Eating disorders are defined by disturbance in eating habits that may be either excessive or insufficient food intake.”(Rikani)

Sienna Brancato, author of the article Piecing Together Disordered Eating talks about the part of the plot when Cady Heron gives Regina George the Swedish nutrition bars in order to lose weight, however the purpose of the bars is to  gain weight. Reginia consumes the nutrition bars religiously yet continues to gain weight. Cady uses Regina’s insecurities against her and attacks her self-worth and social standing. When Regina gains weight and deviates from the expected appearance within her friend circle, she is ostracized and rejected. Sienna Brancato states that “This negative portrayal is just one part of American culture’s idealization of the thin white female body type. The underlying implication here is that any weight gain is negative, and if you gain weight, you are worth less.”(Brancato 2019). In another article called A Social Commentary: Mean Girls and Obesity, it states that “The way the Plastics feel about their bodies exemplifies the way real women feel about their bodies. The movie Mean Girls is the perfect movie for discussing weight (body) issues faced by women``(Cherubs 2012). This scene from Mean Girls addresses the intricate relationships among women and social dynamics. 

In order to get the perspective of my classmates I created a survey for them to take. The survey questions were as follows, Do you think that the fear of being canceled has impacted the way comedians and filmmakers approach satire in movies?  Do you believe self-censorship due to canceled culture affects the authenticity of comedy movies, can humor still mock influential figures and systems even with rules in place? Explain your reasoning below. Each participant answered “yes” to all of the questions and I agreed with their answers as well. Based on all of my research, I have come to the conclusion that the reputation of comedy films have been tainted by the recent phenomenon “cancel culture”. Many comedy movies have lost the audiences they once had due to a more progressive day in age. 

Works Cited

Anderson-Lopez, J., Lambert, R. J., & Budaj, A. (2021). Tug of war: Social media, cancel culture, and diversity for girls and the 100. Kome: An International Journal of Pure Communication Inquiry, 9(1), 64-84.

Brancato, S. (2019, April 12). Piecing Together Disordered Eating. The Georgetown Voice. https://georgetownvoice.com/2019/04/12/piecing-together-disordered-eating/#:~:text=Regina%20does%20some%20awful%20things

cheurbs. (2012, October 28). A Social Commmentary: Mean Girls and Obesity. Demeliou. https://demeliou.wordpress.com/2012/10/28/mean-girls-and-obesity/ 

Fortner, C. N., & US Army Command and General Staff College. (2020). Decision making within a cancel culture environment (Doctoral dissertation, Fort Leavenworth, KS: US Army Command and General Staff College).

How do people define cancel culture? by Comms DFP - Infogram. (n.d.). Infogram.com. Retrieved November 4, 2023, from https://infogram.com/how-do-people-define-cancel-culture-1h7z2l85e3qkg6o 

October 24, J. B., & EDT, 2022 at 12:24 P. (n.d.). Marlon Wayans defends White Chicks, slams cancel culture: “I ain’t listening to this damn generation.” EW.com. https://ew.com/movies/marlon-wayans-defends-white-chicks-slams-cancel-culture/

Rikani, A. A., Choudhry, Z., Choudhry, A. M., Ikram, H., Asghar, M. W., Kajal, D., ... & Mobassarah, N. J. (2013). A critique of the literature on etiology of eating disorders. Annals of neurosciences, 20(4), 157.

[psychic-refugee]

Cate having unfettered access to the internet during her formative years, actually would explain the version of Soldier Boy they met in her mindscape. I don’t agree that there was ever produced media that had him being so crass that would have influenced her imaginary version of him that we saw.

What movies etc…there were of him, at most had the misogyny of its time. Mostly that women were largely damsels to be saved, with a few exceptions that were on a Supe team. And that “manly men” did xyz and couldn’t deviate from that. But otherwise, Vought would have given the world a heroic and charismatic version of Soldier Boy.

Here’s how I think SB of Cate’s mindscape came to be.

12 year old Cate watches a SB & Crimson Countess romantic movie. She thinks SB is really cute and like everyone else, a great hero. She wants more content. She goes to the internet to find all his movies and whatever else. She buys posters and magazines for her room.

What else does she stumble upon? Soldier Boy fanfiction. She starts with non spicy things, mostly where SB saves someone and takes them away from a horrible situation.

The first incarnation of Soldier Boy spoke like a wattpad protagonist. The strongest Supe of the time was not afraid of her.

But then there are spicy things, she likes that a lot. I think that’s when she starts exploring her sexuality with the aide of a SB pillow. She’s still reading vanilla romance where she’s saved, but now they’re having sex. She then finds spicier content, and probably veering into darker stuff. Some of this darker stuff might contain asymmetrical power dynamics or degrading talk.

I feel like her parents were just counting down the days until she hit 18 and could send her away for good, so as long as she stayed in her room, they basically didn’t monitor anything she did.

She’s bored and lonely, so she keeps reading whatever she wants and watching whatever she wants. I definitely think she eventually finds video porn, and some are definitely spoofs/look alikes of Soldier Boy.

Soldier Boy “teaching” her to masturbate might have actually been a porn actor who looked like him and did spoofs.

One of the problems with watching porn with no guidance or anyone to really explain anything, is that most presume porn is a reflection on what is “normal.” It’s not necessarily intuitive to anyone that the vast majority of porn is catered to the male gaze and specifically what men fantasize about.

What do men tend to idolize and produce? Hyper masculinity and women with specific grooming.

So now, Cate is seeing Soldier Boy going from the glossy Hollywood produced version of himself which was probably filled with corny lines and flirting, to a porno version who is probably aggressive and domineering to scene partners.

What else is on the internet? Reddit and other like forums. So as a fan of Soldier Boy, she goes on reddit hoping to talk about her favourite hero.

But what she finds is a bunch of dudebros who idolize him and wish they could go back to a time where “men were men.”

Soldier Boy wasn’t saying these crass things, but his fanboys were. Some of these fanboys might have also been writing the fanfic she’d been reading.

So, all of this is warping her lovemap and the Soldier Boy of her fantasies. At this point, she probably doesn’t care what Soldier Boy is like, she’s attracted to him and her pillow doesn’t reject her touch.

The Soldier Boy we saw was the one that had survived her childhood fantasies. Which is really effing sad to think about.

Everything Cate learned about sex, she learned from porn

Cate was confined to this space between the ages of 9 and 18. That means she was here during her puberty years. In the absence of proper human contact until Shetty came into her life, much of what she learned about sex would've likely come from movies, and probably from porn at that.

The proof exists in two forms:

First, a lot of the things that "Soldier Boyfriend" says here sound like stuff right out of pornos.

"I taught her how to jerk off. Diddle that Skittle. Flick the bean. How to find that man in the canoe. She came like a faucet. She'd crank up the Jonas Brothers and she'd hump a Soldier Boy pillow. She'd raw-dog that pillow till she saw God. [...] It was pretty romantic. 😏"

And then there was this moment from "First Day":

Having a guard Deep Throat a flashlight is the sort of thing that Cate probably saw in a porno. 😂

Hell, the dialogue she has the other guard say to this guy sounds like it's out of a porno too:

Guard: "I'll tell you what I'm doing, Bob. First, you're gonna get this flashlight nice and wet with your slutty fսcking mouth."

Bob: 😳 "What the fսck is wrong with you?"

Guard: "Then I'm gonna stuff it right up your tight little chocolate starfish until you see God. 😂"

Cate: "Do it. You know you want to. 😏"

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Dog Tags

Billy Russo x Female!Reader

Request by @nebulastarr​ : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way

A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations.    The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week.  The song: Isak Danielson - Power

All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.

“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”

You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.

Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:

“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.

Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.

“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”

You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.

“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”

You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.

“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.

“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.

You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.

“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”

Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.

—

A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.

You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.

“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”

Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…

Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.

Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.

“…you just quit?!”

She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.

“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”

The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.

“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”

When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.  

“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”

“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”

—

“…I’m here to see William Russo”. 


With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.

Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.

You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.

“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”

The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.

As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.

You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.

And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.

You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.

In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.

See the beast for yourself, so to speak.

The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.

All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.

Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.

“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.

You briefly wondered if he knew that.

Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).

“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.

When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.

“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”

“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.

His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.

A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.

“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.

“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.

He nodded again.

And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.

Now that was the man you could potentially work with.

—

Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.

You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.

William and you disagreed.

When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place.


He only crossed the line once. 



You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.

The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.

You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.

You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.

“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”

“Can go fuck himself”.

Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.

You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.

“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.

Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!

“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.

This sounded so much better in your head.  

“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.

…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.  

There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?

“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.

You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”

Bark. Sit. Roll over.

“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”

Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.

You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.

If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.

—

You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.

You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.

As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.

You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.

There was nothing you had left to say to each other.

…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.

It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.

You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.

He had no idea.

You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.

The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.    

You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday. 

Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.

By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was. 

You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.

“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”

It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.

A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.

“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.

You chuckled silently at his reaction.

“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.

“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.

“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.

You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again. 

Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.

“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.

With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.

You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.

Just for the hell of it.

—

“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.

That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.

Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.

You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.

When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.

You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).

“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”

You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction. 

Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.

You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along. 

“We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.

You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.

—

You had a great time at dinner.

(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).  

You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.

And he was incredible.

After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.

(You must have imagined it.)

The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.

A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.

“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”

You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on. 

Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.

“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”

When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.

“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.

He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.

Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.

“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.  

“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.

As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.

—

The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.

It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.

Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.

The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…

(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).

…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…

(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)  

…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…

(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).

…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.

He would, wouldn’t he?

It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.  

The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.

“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”

Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.

You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.

What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?  

Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.

A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.

“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.

No.

Nothing is okay, Billy.

I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.

I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…

So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.

“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.

“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.

Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer. 


As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.

—

You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.

If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.

Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.

Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence. 



Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.

Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.

You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.

Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?

You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)

Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.  

Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.

You: The flattery will….

“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.

“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:

“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.

Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?

“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”

You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.

Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…

“We don’t really do alien invasions”.

Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!

His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.

“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.

Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.

“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.

You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.

“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”

Say something.

Fucking hell.

Say something!…

“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”

 Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.

“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.

That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.

“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.

"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”

After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.

You: The flattery will….

...get you nowhere.

You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.

—

Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.

After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.

Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.

In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.

…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.

You weren’t ready to leave Billy. 
You just couldn’t. 
You couldn’t leave him. 

There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.

And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.

And that was exactly why you had to do it.

You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.

You had to tell him.

As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.

Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.

“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”

He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.

You couldn’t breathe.

In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.

“Billy, I have to tell you something.”

Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.

Blood roared in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him. 

Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.

He had no idea what it was though.

“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.



That chest…



…was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.

Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…

“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.

“Billy, listen, I…”

You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.

In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.

“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”

I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock,  he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.

You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.

“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."

You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.

Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it? 


Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.

“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”

The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.

“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.

—

Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.

(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)

As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion. 

He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.

Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.

“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.

If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.

God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.

With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…

Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…

…Your eyes met his.

And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.

Would not have taken his eyes off you.

“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”

Something in your chest exploded silently.

“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.

Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.

“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.

“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.

And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

—

The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.

Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.

The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.

The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.

“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”

Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”

Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.

—

When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.

Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.

How much more pathetic could you get?  

When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.

His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?

Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.

When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.

“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”

It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.

Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.

—

“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.

Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.

You sighed.

“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”

You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.

“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”



Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time

“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”

Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.

“…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”

Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him. 



A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.

Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.

“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”

“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”

You nodded.

When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.  

It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.

You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.

Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.

After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.

As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.

The package wasn’t even stamped.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.

Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.

Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.

With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.

Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.

Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.

“You took my heart with you”.

[sweet-as-writing]

Overpowered Characters

There are several types of overpowered characters. Here’s how to avoid the bad stereotypes and write the good ones right.

Mary Sues

The infamous Mary Sue, or its male equivalent of a Gary Stu, has sparked a lot of controversy over its definition and application. But at its core, a Mary Sue is any character, especially the protagonist, who is naturally good at everything. They can fly a plane, shoot a gun, and run a marathon like an expert, even though it’s only their first time. A reader feels like the character hasn’t earned this right, and the Mary Sue becomes an annoyance rather than someone to root for. In order to solve this problem, let your characters be bad at stuff. Let them fail and struggle to improve. Don’t have them win every fight or always have a witty comeback. People aren’t perfect, and heroes should reflect that.

Deus Ex Machinas

A deus ex machina is someone who comes out of nowhere, usually during a crucial plot point, and saves the heroes from otherwise impending doom. Similar to a Mary Sue, this feels unearned and unforeseen. Readers feel cheated and unsatisfied with this result. To avoid a deus ex machina, don’t introduce a brand new character during their big-save moment, and don’t let one character be the ultimate god amongst men who can come in and save everyone whenever they feel like it. Instead, use clever thinking and teamwork amongst familiar characters to get them out of a situation, showing how previously-known powers and strengths can be applied in a new way. This will likely require some hard thinking, but it’s worth it in the end and your reader will be impressed!

Plot Armored Protagonists

Have you ever watched an action movie and wondered why all the henchmen and goons miss when they’re firing at the hero, but the hero seems to hit them all without a second thought? Protagonists with obvious plot armor—meant to survive any danger just because they are the main character and the story can’t go on without them—become silly and unrealistic to a reader and can take them out of the world of a story. The best way to avoid putting too much plot armor on your protagonist is to let them take a hit. They don’t have to die, but a tough injury that changes the course of their intended journey reminds the reader that the hero is a human (or whatever fantasy/sci-fi equivalent) and we shouldn’t take their survival for granted. Readers will let you get away with a little plot armor—after all, it would be weird if your hero was randomly killed by a henchman in the second scene—but keep it realistic.

Final Bosses

The problem with final bosses is not that they are overpowered. Usually, an overpowered final boss presents a good threat to a hero, whether it is a genius supervillain or an invincible foe. The issue arises when, despite this, a hero with far less training, expertise, or ability can still defeat them. If your supervillain has been perfecting the art of the duel for ten years, and the hero defeats them after a week of training and the power of *friendship,* it is unrealistic and can take the reader out of the story similar to plot armor. To solve this problem, simply give an ample explanation as to how the villain can still be defeated. Maybe a hero discovers their secret weakness, the villain is weakened by a mysterious object, or the villain is defeated in a novel way they haven’t prepared for.

Hope this helps and good luck writing!