#not affording pay rises when they are deserved

[what-yadoking-likes]

It’s the penultimate week of my art course - next week we exhibit 5 or 6 of our best pieces. So today we chose our best works & mounted them onto sugar paper frames. All in all a chill session.

There is a very loud woman who also attends the art class. She is the kind of loud person who is not only loud volume-wise when speaking, but the kind of loud where she gets into everyone’s business and makes it into her business. She would also loudly express with her loud voice her shitty opinions (e.g. the Queen did a lot for this country/England was safer when we were kids, now it’s so dangerous/people on strike need to get over it). Not my kind of person really, so we never talked much.

Anyway today she showed an interest in me &  my policy is if you can’t be friends, at least be friendly. So I told her I was a teacher and a bit about my background, knowing she is also a teacher from... how loudly she talks.

When I hesitated when she asked if I’d change anything about my job, she asked me directly, “Name one thing you disliked about being a school teacher.”

My knee-jerk reaction was SLT.

Her face dropped.

“I’m an Assistant Head.”

Looking back on this faux pas, I feel like she wanted me to retract my statement.

I did not retract my statement. Or amend it. I stand by it.

[somejazzinthemorning]

snapshot.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K

you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.

(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼

The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.

You sigh as you open your eyes.

The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.

Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.

And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.

So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.

Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,

“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.

“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”

He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”

Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.

Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”

“You want a photo of my boobs?”

“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.

Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.

“The hair,” he directs.

This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.

When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.

You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.

“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”

You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.

His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.

"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."

The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.

And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.

His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.

His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.

"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.

"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."

Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.

"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.

"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.

Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.

Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.

You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.

But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.

You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.

You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.

"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, come here."

"Not yet."

"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."

You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.

Climax is imminent.

You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.

When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.

"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”

“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”

As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.

“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”

Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶

[socialistexan]

Directly next to each other lmao.

The "rich elites" thing is a distraction at best. It's much more about not realizing who your market is and then trying to capitalize on them on the worst possible time to try to see them a thing they don't want (or can't afford) in a time of rising income inequality and financial stress. It's a poor decision, pure and simple.

Pay artists fairly, absolutely, yes, all labor deserves to be compensated fairly, that's an underlying tenant of socialism, but usually it's in relation to bosses and the ruling rich, not other workers and poor college students.

I have no personal stake in this. I don't watch any content from Watcher. I never got into Ghost Files or Puppet History. I'm just someone who has been on the internet for 20 years and seen people like this make this mistake over and over.

The only one who pulled this off is Dropout, but they:

Did it gradually over 5-6 years and really only went mostly independent when they were forced to (ie their parent company tried to shut them down)

Have multiple times as much content from a wide set of talent that releases almost daily and has a very wide variety. Don't like D20? Here's Game Changer. Don't like that? Here's Um, Actually. Or Dirty Laundry. Or Very Important People. Or Total Forgiveness. Or Play it By Ear. Or the nearly two decades of CollegeHumor sketch comedy archives.

Let's face it, Sam Reich - as much as I love him - is kind of a nepo baby of the former Secretary of Labor of the United States of America (though imo maybe the most left-wing one in the nation's history), so even if he didn't help financially (there is no proof of this), Sam had a hell of an economics advisor in his father, former Secretary of Labor of the United States Robert Reich.

Watcher has, what, 3 on screen guys and a handful of people behind the scenes? It screams hubris or greed. Either/or.

[221bshrlocked]

Keep Your Religion

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Jedi AFAB!Reader

Words: 7630

Warnings: 18+ only. Starts off angsty then gets to the smut. Softer than usual Wolffe because that man would be madly in love when he finds his special someone. Lots of Kissing. Possessive Behavior/Words. Dirty/Sweet Talk..but mostly Sweet. Exhibitionism Kink if you like squint! Oral Sex (female receiving). Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Wolffe is insatiable yall!

Summary: You try to end things with Wolffe because you fear your relationship will end badly due to the rules set in place for the Jedi and the Clones. Wolffe convinces you otherwise.

A/N: Can you believe I finished another fic? Neither can I. It was about time for another Wolffe fic so here you go my lovely humans. I hope you enjoy. Comments are always always always appreciated so let me know how I'm doing please and thank you. I do apologize that I'm not tagging, it hasn't been working for some reason since post editor changed permanently to this new looking editor. I'll try to figure it out I swear! P.S. this is the second of hopefully many more submissions for @clonexreaderbingo

Something about seeing him so relaxed and loose tugged at the strings of your heart. It was a rare sight, one you thought he would only grace you with when the two of you are alone together. But here he was, throwing back whatever shit drink the bar offered him and his brothers, all the while smiling at Cody’s remark about the new shinies embarrassing themselves in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. You’re nursing your own drink in the corner, trying to find the best possible way to approach the booth without making a scene. He’d told you before that almost everyone close to him knew of your relationship, but you felt weird about dropping the pretenses. You were his boss, after all. Well, not completely his boss, but a commanding officer regardless. If you started acting extra friendly, you’re not sure how the rest of the Wolfpack would take it. 

As you swirl the spotchka around, you suddenly feel like someone is watching you, hunting you even. There’s only one man who’s ever made you feel so heated and just as you look up from the glass in your hand towards the group of Clones you were previously studying, you notice Wolffe staring you down, the slightest hint of a smirk flashing at you in an attempt to get you to react to his attention. 

Normally, you’d enjoy the subtle flirtatious expressions, even tease him a little to get a rise out of him before escaping to the nearest room to lure him for a private moment. Or, as private a moment as 79’s can offer a Jedi Master and a Commander of the Grand Republic Army. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, you came out to the Clone bar to decide the best way to end things with Wolffe. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you didn’t want to push your luck any further. Things were getting worse by the hour, and you couldn’t afford losing Wolffe all because some assholes in the Senate didn’t think he deserved to love or to be loved by someone. Then there was the matter of the Jedi Council, and how strict they were becoming. It was already frowned upon before the war, and it only took a few months into this galactic conflict for them to push their ideologies even harder on everyone at the Temple. 

You would never forgive yourself if they punished him simply because you couldn’t stand being far away from him any longer. You narrow your eyes at Wolffe and down the rest of your drink, disappointed in yourself for not having the guts to tell him earlier. 

And for knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to do it tonight. 

The smile on his face drops instantly when he notices you avoiding his gaze, and you curse yourself for ruining his night. It was going so well, and one look at you made the worry return to his mind again. 

Clutching your robes tightly, you pay the bartender quickly before excusing yourself and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. You could feel the tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the last thing you wished for is for someone to see you and make a huge fuss about it. As you push through the crowd, you feel those same pair of eyes hold you down harshly, as if they were refusing you permission to leave without confronting them. 

Quickly wiping your eyes, you push open the doors and turn around to lock them behind you, only to nearly bump into the chest of the man you were hoping to avoid tonight. You gulp nervously, and before you can say anything, Wolffe tilts his head to the side and studies you closely, his eyes roaming down your body to see if anything needs his immediate attention. 

When he finds nothing out of the ordinary, he takes a step closer to you and shuts the door behind him, not bothering to lock it as he continues to back you up until you hit the wall. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to avoid me.” His gaze is direct, unfaltering in the haze of lust he was sending you under. You furrow your eyebrows and try to look anywhere else but him, but as always, he doesn’t give you the easy way out. Grabbing the bottom of your chin, he turns you until you have no choice but to look straight into his eyes and respond. 

“What if I was?” You’re not sure what pushes you to say something so defensive, but the chuckle it gets out of him makes you realize you had already lost whatever game he was playing with you. 

“I’d say you should have gone to another bar.” He’s right. You know this, and he definitely knows this too. The ease with which he continues to have an effect on you would normally be welcomed, but you’re pissed at him. Pissed for being so weak for him. For not bothering to put up a fight. 

“But here you are…at the one place you knew I was coming to tonight.” Wolffe leans down and nudges your temple with his nose, breathing in the scent of your sweat and perfume, and forcing you to reach for him so you don’t topple over from the sheer amount of control he has on you. 

“So tell me mesh’la, what have I done to deserve the cold shoulder?” He whispers the question in your ear, slowly sliding his hands down your body until they reach your waist. You’re having a difficult time breathing, and you moan his name as you throw your head back when he squeezes your hips and pushes his chest impossibly closer into your own. 

“I- you didn’t…it,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a sensical thought, when you’re so overwhelmed by his presence alone. You thought he would laugh at you, but when his breathing becomes nearly as erratic as your own, you understand that he was genuinely trying to figure out if he’s done something wrong. His methods seldom changed, and you weren’t surprised that he was trying to get you to talk by touching you as intimately as possible without tearing your clothes off. 

“Don’t tell me I did nothing wrong…sir. Something must have happened, or else you would be begging me to have my way with you right now. So what is it? What have I done?” Wolffe repeats again, making you feel guilty for your behavior and for what you’ve been thinking of doing since the last time you were together. You remind yourself that he deserves someone better, someone who wouldn’t compromise his position in the GAR all because of their messed-up religion. He deserved so much more than you. 

And the mere mention of your rank made it worse.

“W-Wolffe, I umm, I can’t do this anymore.” You know this was the last thing he expected you to say because in the blink of an eye, he’s removing himself from you completely and putting space between your shaking body and his own wound up chest. When you muster up the courage to look into his eyes, a shiver courses down your spine. 

It has been so long since he’s given you such a look, one that was filled with nothing but suspicion and guardedness. He’s quiet for longer than you like, and when you reach for him in an attempt to console him, his frown deepens and he twitches away from you. You hadn’t expected such a reaction to hurt this much, but it does, and like before, you have no control over the stream of tears rolling down your chin. Again, it’s not what he expects to witness from you, certainly not after what you just declared to him, and when you sniffle to get yourself under control, he closes the space between you more aggressively than before, slamming his hands on both sides of your face and clenching his jaws tightly when he sees you pouting at him. 

“I don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t. But I’m sorry regardless. I am so very sorry. Whatever it is, we can talk it out. It’s not worth throwing away all that we have. Please. Just- krifff…tell me what it is I have done, and I will get down on my knees right now and beg for your forgiveness. But don’t do this, don’t give up on us.” In all your time knowing Wolffe, you’ve never once heard him speak with such a tone. He was always assertive, confident and unwavering in his commanding presence. 

But the only thing you could feel now is his fear. 

“You did nothing wrong, it’s me…it’s all me Wolffe.” You know this won’t be enough for him, but you try to convince him regardless. Then he drops his head against your shoulder and you know you won’t be able to hold out much longer. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday sweetheart. If you’ve ever held an ounce of respect for me, you’ll tell me what I did wrong. You owe me that much. I- I deserve to know.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was close to breaking down as well. 

“I do Wolffe, I respect you…more than anyone. You have to know that.” You hope he doesn’t turn away when you reach for him again, and as you cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands to raise his attention to you, you’re met with an expression you never thought you’d see on his features. 

“You haven’t done anything baby, it’s me. It’s…all me.” If you were a better person, you would have been consistent in your tone with him, but seeing him so torn down broke you, and you couldn’t not soothe him the way you always did whenever he comes back from a particularly difficult mission. 

“You deserve someone better Wolffe, someone who would never compromise your safety. Being with me is- it’s getting dangerous. The Council is becoming more strict…the Senate even worse. If they court martial you because you’re with me, I- I don’t know what I would do.” There’s something so gut-wrenching about the way he refuses to look away from your moving lips, and when you stop talking, he doesn’t blink once, his cybernetic eye focusing in and out before slowly blinking along with the other.

“Someone better?” It’s clear that he’s still hurt by the word vomit you threw at him, but whereas his voice showed it earlier, the shakiness and reluctance is gone now, replaced with a menacing, almost angry tone that you were too familiar with, one that you’ve witnessed during battle when his orders weren’t obeyed immediately. 

“I can’t give you what you want Wolffe, not without hurting you eventually…unintentionally. My- my religion, it’s becoming a threat to your well-being. It’s not worth the hassle. I am not worth the hassle. You could do so much better than-” Whatever you’re about to say gets lost in the damp air of the room as soon as Wolffe decides he’s heard enough of what was on your mind. He grips your neck tightly, winding his other arm around your back and violently pulling you into his embrace as he swallows your surprised shrieks. Your frown deepens for another moment before you surrender yourself to the possessive kiss, and Wolffe must feel you melting into his arms because he growls against your lips and claims your tongue without remorse. 

His hold on you only grows stronger when he feels your arms move to wrap around his neck, and when he’s sure you’re trying to get closer to him and not push him away, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, not caring for how messy or aggressive he’s being with you as he shoves his tongue past your lips and reminds you of what you could be missing if you got what you wanted and left him. 

As the need for air becomes difficult to ignore, Wolffe breaks the kiss and gives the two of you a moment of respite. When he opens his eyes and finds your orbs glistening with unshed tears, he swears beneath his breath and lunges for you again, the hand around your throat loosening for a fraction of a second before tightening around your jugular and forcing you to accept his rejection of your wishes. You moan into the kiss, allowing him to take whatever he wants from you, knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to go through with whatever it is you thought you could get away with tonight. When he’s content with the reactions of your mind and body to his touch, 

“You nearly broke my heart, ner runi. Don’t ever say that to me again!” Wolffe refuses to let go of you, afraid you’d leave the room thinking that he agreed to the sentiment you dropped on him a second ago. When you say nothing in return, he shakes his head and crushes you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in to attempt and calm his nerves. He prays that you give him some form of an answer that confirms your understanding of what he just said, but when you don’t, Wolffe sighs heavily and pulls back enough to take a better look at you. 

“Wolffe, we need to talk ab-” Again, he doesn’t care for what you have to say and cuts you off, letting you know that this was definitely the end of the conversation. 

“No, we’re done talking. You can keep your religion sweetheart, I couldn’t care less for its consequences…but don’t you fucking dare and ask me to abandon mine.” His voice is firm, the familiar unyielding articulation confirming to you that he’s already made up his mind on the matter. There would be no more on the matter. 

As much as you hate to admit it, it feels like a bantha has lifted one of its feet off your chest. You look into his eyes and find them filled with a more familiar emotion, one that kept you going ever since you confessed your feelings to him. You thought it would be difficult to get him to accept your proposition, but you realize then and there that it was definitely harder for you to come to terms with your initial thoughts. 

You slowly smile at him, and it must be what Wolffe needs to hear to forget the last few minutes because his touches become less crazed and more soothing, a level of intimacy you’re always yearning for when the two of you are away from each other for too long. 

“And what...what is your religion?” You barely find the attention span to ask, the familiarity of his touch and his voice sending you down a spiral of lust-filled thoughts that only increased the longer Wolffe remained in your presence. 

“Your body is my religion cyar’ika, and I’m not planning on losing my faith any time soon.” The confession is lewd, mostly because he’s using your weakness to drive the message home. But as dirty as the admission sounded on his lips, you couldn’t help but sink into his embrace, wanting to hear more of him so you could forget about why you were here in the first place. 

“Is that s-so?” You’re practically shaking in his arms, and Wolffe uses your momentary distraction to tug your robes apart and leave a trail of kisses down your neck to where he wanted to bite you most. 

“Yeah,” he licks at your skin, wishing with all his heart he could have you right then and there. It’s not as if the two of you haven’t fucked at 79’s before. He just knew that you both needed something more, something that he can only accomplish in the privacy of his rooms. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to excuse myself for the night, tell the boys I have to finish reports for the General.” He slips a hand underneath the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your waist until you slowly begin to roll your hips into him. 

“Ahuh,” you’re not really paying attention to what he’s saying, your body already frozen with anticipation now that it felt his hands and his tongue leaving marks across it again. 

“Focus,” he squeezes your ass, shaking it twice to get you to open your eyes and look past the haze to obey his next commands. 

“Yes sir.” You bite into your lip and giggle when he narrows his eyes at you and mumbles something about punishing you for being a tease. 

“You’re going to leave shortly after, something about being needed back at the Temple.” Your stomach twists in knots when you realize he’s using his ‘Commander’ voice on you, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and mold your lips with his own when you remember the last time he used that same tone on you. 

What a night it was. 

“And where w-will I actually be going?” You ask as soon as Wolffe pulls you away and breaks the kiss. 

“My room baby, where you’ll stay for the rest of the night.” He says matter of factly, as if you shouldn’t even be asking his such a question. 

“Pray tell, Commander. What will we be doing that- oh kriff, that will require me to spend the night in your quarters?” You throw your head back when his hand slithers up your body and cups your breast through your Jedi robes. You can almost feel the heat radiating off the palm of his hand, and the harder he gropes you through your clothes, the more you wish he would just push you down on all fours and fuck you into oblivion. 

“Well, I don’t know about you sweetheart, but I’ll be practicing my faith...and worshiping every inch of your body until the only thing you can feel is me.” The smirk on his face would be menacing if you weren’t so used to it by now, and you gasp lightly when he leans down and bites the skin of your shoulder peeking from beneath your cloak. 

“Oh gods-”

“That’s it, moan for me cyar’ika. I want the whole fucking bar to know who makes you feel good.” Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and pushes his leg in between, slowly moving you back and forth on him to give you a preview of what’s to come tonight. 

“Wolffe, please. I need you.” You fall forward against his chest, whining for him as he continues to move you across his thigh and dares you to come from such a simple touch. 

“Oh, now you need me?” You know he’s joking without looking at him, but the question throws you off guard and you snap your gaze up to see if he was hurt by what you said previously. 

“I- I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“None of that.” Wolffe shakes his head, not wanting to ruin the moment by something so trivial. He slows down his touches but keeps you moving on him, hoping to distract you long enough to make this night a little better for the both of you. 

“Wolffe,” you call for him again, not in warning but in desperation, hoping that he can see how sorry you are for ever doubting what the two of you had. 

“That was cruel of me, forgive me sweetheart.” His voice is soft, so much sweeter than before, and you’re reminded by how quickly his mood changes whenever he senses you’re upset or angry. 

“How could you ask that when I am the one who hurt you?” You should drop it, everything that he’s done is proof that you should let this go and get back to more important matters, but you can’t stop yourself from asking him, wanting to know why he’s always so patient and caring with you when he was the one who deserved better. 

“You didn’t hurt me, cyare.”

“I did, I- I almost…”

“You could never hurt me, little one. Never.” Like before, he doesn’t care for whatever you have to say, not because he doesn’t value your words, but because he knows how difficult your relationship with him probably weighs on your mind. 

Even from the beginning. 

You study him for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds. And you wonder how anyone could ever think him cruel and rude when he was so loving and unbelievably long-suffering. Without warning, you throw yourself at him, mirroring his actions from before and shoving your mouth against his own to feel grounded. He doesn’t waste a second, pushing you harder against the wall and sucking on your tongue until you were a moaning mess in his embrace. 

“F-fuck, if you keep that up, I won’t- kriff, I won’t hold back.” Wolffe rests his forehead against yours, trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t end up embarrassing the two of you by what his body is willing to do. 

“Then don’t!”

“You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone can walk in and see you getting filled with my cock?” He shouldn’t be surprised by how wanton you are, and although he knows he should step away and put some space between you and him, he can’t help but retort with his own teasing comment. 

“Please Commander.” You lean up and kiss his jugular, nipping at the skin just above his armor and soothing it with another kiss before laying your head back and meeting his intense gaze. 

“Always playing dirty. Just for that, you’ll have to wait.” Wolffe clears his throat and eyes you up and down before taking a few steps back. He barely manages to hold back from laughing when you stumble forward and nearly lose your footing. You’re about to complain when he raises a hand and silences you, furrowing his eyebrows at you in an attempt to look intimidating. 

“Another word, and I won’t give you my cock tonight.” He warns calmly, smirking immediately when you shake your head and tell him you’ll be good.

“No please, I’ll stop. I’ll behave, I swear.” 

“You’ll behave-?” The question trails until the room is silent again and you know instantly what you said wrong. 

“Commander.” You whisper to him as you try to fix your clothes and hair so you don’t look like you were fucked against a wall by the Commander of the 104th Battalion. You don’t dare smile at him, afraid he’d misunderstand the gesture for another one of your teasing expressions and completely throw the night away. 

“Good girl, now do as you’re told and I promise to reward you.” He watches you saunter past him and before you unlock the door, he smacks your ass quite harshly, watching you closely to see if you were going to behave or retort like you usually do. 

“Yes, sir.” You don’t dare give into his tricks, hoping to get through the next hour or so without getting distracted, or worse…caught. 

“Off you go.” He gestures for you to leave before him, and when you’re no longer in sight, he shuts his eyes and sighs in relief. Wolffe is not sure how the two of you got to where you are now, but considering the fact that he expected something like this to happen since you got together, he’s relieved that it was for reasons different from what his mind conjured up all those nights he spent alone in his bed. 

You walk out and move towards the bar again, your eyes roaming across the busy bar and waiting until Wolffe walks out before you make sure that no one noticed the two of you together. He follows you soon after, finding you almost instantly and winking at you before he heads towards his men. You watch as he tells Sinker to give him his helmet, and you assume they all roll their eyes not a second later because he told them he needed to get some paperwork done. 

But as soon as Cody looks at you, he knows what Wolffe is planning on doing, and before you can turn away from him, he raises his glass and smiles at you before downing the rest of his drink. You should be embarrassed at being seen, but something about the way the Commander gestures at you makes you smile, as if he was telling you that he hoped the two of you are okay. You shake your head at him and throw your hood up, walking to the Commander of the 21st Nova Corps to let him know you’ll be leaving earlier tonight. 

“Ah General, I was wondering when you’ll be joining us.” You smile at Commander Bacara and the boys, giving them a few credits to let them know the next two rounds were on you. 

“Sorry Bacara, I’m calling it early tonight. Needed back at the Temple!” You feel bad for lying to him, but as always, he doesn’t ask for an elaboration, telling you that he hopes you don’t have to do too much paperwork while you’re still on break. 

“See you later,” you nod at him and the others when they salute you, and just as you walk out of the bar, you vaguely hear them yell for the droid making its rounds to get them a round of quanya. 

“Hmm, didn’t peg them for the type.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the chilly Coruscant air, looking around to see if Wolffe was anywhere to be seen or if he has already left. When you don’t sense his Force signature nearby, you make your way towards the speeder bike Anakin lent you and bring it to life, trying your best to contain yourself so you wouldn’t be caught by another Jedi nearby. 

You make your way through the streets as quickly as possible, and when you make it to the Temple, you park the bike nearby and think of the best way to make it through the barracks without being seen by any of the Masters…or Commanders. 

It’s not the first time you entered the barracks, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange to see a Jedi making their way through the hallways. But it was nearly midnight, and you weren’t sure you could lie your way through a question if you were caught before you made it to Wolffe’s quarters. You’re about to reach out to the Force to see if anyone is awake when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. The familiarity of its warmness sets your mind at ease, and you take a deep breath before you turn to face him. 

“Commander.”

“General, is there something I can help you with?” He’s putting on a show for the surveillance cameras, and you clear your throat before you tell him something about wanting to review the plans for the next mission. 

“Very well,” he’s curt in his response, and you get the sense that he may be avoidant because he has about as much control around you as you do whenever you so much as hear the mention of his name. 

“Thank you, Commander Wolffe.” He nearly falters in his steps at hearing you call his name, and he swears beneath his breath as a way of warning. You nearly smile at his reaction, but you remember how closely the guards watch the cameras and you choose to switch your attention to the ground. Not another word passes between the two of you, and as you reach his room, you feel your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of finally spending a night with him. 

Up until now, the two of you had to make do with stolen moments and short breaks, whether on missions or back here. Neither of you have ever spent the night alone, and you find it fitting that tonight would be it. It’s comforting and nerve-wrecking all at once, and as soon as you step into his quarters, you allow yourself to take in the calm before the storm. 

Before the door slides completely shut, Wolffe is on you like a moth to a flame, nearly ripping your clothes off of your body as he pushes you down onto his bed. 

“W-Wolffe, I-” You try to ask him why he’s so frantic and crazed all of a sudden but he lets go of you and stands to his height, making quick work of his armor in record time all the while keeping you still with the mere look in his eyes. 

“I can’t do slow tonight, can’t wait another fucking second without having you.” You always admired how much care he puts into his armor whenever he’s taking it off or putting it back on, so seeing him drop each pass to the ground sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 

You mirror his actions without another word, throwing your boots and socks away before struggling to take your pants off. Moments later, you feel the bed dip once Wolffe crawls towards you, his muscles flexing in such a menacing way that makes you fall back into the sheets and wait for him to tell you what to do next. 

But then he says nothing, and you’re torn between asking him what he needs from you and letting you do whatever the fuck he wants. He reaches for the edge of your pants and tugs them right down your legs, not once blinking as he violently takes your sweater off and throws it somewhere behind him. You’re left in nothing but your undergarments, and as you twist your arms to take your bra off, Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and makes space for himself in between. 

“I need you, now.” His voice should terrify you, it should be enough of a warning for what he has in store for you. But you find it exhilarating, knowing that only you could get him to lose this much control. You try to reach for him, wanting to feel his skin beneath the tips of your fingers, but Wolffe shakes his head and grabs both of your wrists in one hand, slamming them above your head and tightening the hold he has on them while he slithers his other hand down your nude body. 

“If it were up to me mesh’la, I’d tie you to this fucking bed and have my way with you whenever I want. I’d- kriff, I’d fill you with my cum every minute of every fucking day…so everyone would know you’re mine…so they know that I’m yours.” He teases you through your panties, rubbing lazy circles across the damp spot quickly becoming larger. 

“Wolffe, please…take me.” You whine his name in desperation, hoping he’d finally give you his cock and end your misery. 

“I swear to the maker sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you all night long…kiss every inch of you, mark you with my teeth and hands until you’re my very own altar. I’m going to worship you baby, but only if you promise me one thing.” Wolffe slips his fingers beneath the flimsy material of your panties, rubbing at your clit furiously to get you to focus on him and him only. 

“A-anything…anything Commander.” You turn to the side and kiss his forearm, hoping he’d see how willing you are to do whatever he asks of you. 

“Pray for me.” As you look bite into his skin, Wolffe pushes his hard dick into your cunt, not bothering to give you a moment to get used to being so full before he starts fucking into you with sharp thrusts. You’re screaming his name instantly, arching your back from the sheer amount of pain and pleasure he was bringing upon you so quickly. 

“FUck, there we go…such a good fucking girl for me, screaming my name so sweetly. Go on ner Jetii’ika, tell everyone who fucks you like the perfect cockdumb whore you are.” He leans down and bites the top of your breasts, letting go of your wrists for a brief second so he can rip the last bit of clothing shielding you from his hungry eyes. 

“Wolffe…f-ffuck, oh gods…Wolffe!” You twist your fingers into his bed sheets, crossing your legs behind his back and whining for him when he descends down on you and sucks on your nipple. His hand seeks out your own, and when he intertwines his fingers with yours, he grunts and growls against your skin, reaching for the other breast and groping you harshly until the only thing you can feel is his tongue, and his hands, and his cock wreaking havoc on you. 

Wolffe knows he should slow down, perhaps be a little less demanding with you. But something about seeing you in his bed when everyone else is asleep makes him more possessive, more needy with your body. And it didn’t help how you were reacting to his advances, how completely you surrendered your body to him without so much as a question. He opens his eyes and roams them over your already bruising skin, and when he finds you wanting for more, he increases his pace and fucks you until you couldn’t even breathe out his name. 

You sense his gaze on you, and as you look through heavy-lidded eyes, you find him completely focused on your dazed expression. 

“Wolffe, I- I love you.” You’re not sure what makes you say those words now, but a voice in your heart told you this was the right moment. You’ve spoken before about what this thing between the two of you was, and you knew, as well as he, that this would be it. There would be no one else, not for him, and definitely not for you. 

But you’ve never actually said those words out loud. You’ve said it in the way you kissed him, in the way you gave yourself to him…and Wolffe had pretty much conveyed them to you with every stolen glance and every quick touch he managed to sneak when the two of you passed each other on the General’s ship. 

Like before, Wolffe hasn’t expected to hear you part with such a confession, now of all times. He falters in his pace for a brief moment before he sinks his cock into you and stills completely, wanting to be as close and connected with you as possible when he finally said what he’s felt for you since you introduced yourself to him. 

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum…cyare.” You let out a quiet sob at the intimacy of the moment, and Wolffe wraps his arms around your neck and your waist to feel you against every bit of his skin. His thrusts are shallow, barely leaving you empty out of fear of losing this moment. You throw your arms around his neck and bring him flush against you, crying for him one last time as he seals your lips with his own and sinks into your wet cunt. 

The world comes to a halt around you, and all you can feel is Wolffe’s lips claiming your mouth just as he fills you with his seed. You come with him, shaking softly in his arms as his hot cum shoots into you and coats your walls with proof of his need to mark every fucking inch of you. It’s too much and not enough, and you push your heels into his ass in an attempt to bring him even closer to you. It’s not possible, you know that, but you want nothing more than to have him sink into your body until you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. 

Wolffe is fighting for his life, torn between giving you a second to breathe and quite literally stealing your breath to fill his lungs with your essence. He parts for a brief moment and looks at you, kissing your eyes softly before shoving his lips against yours again. You don’t dare ask him to give you a moment of respite, mostly because you’re sure you would miss him if he were to put space between your skin and his lips. 

Suddenly, the world turns around and you break the kiss unintentionally, gasping in surprise when he turns the two of you around until he’s laying on his back and you on top of him. You smile against his jaw when you feel his hands slide down your back and grab at your ass. As he starts moving your hips back and forth, you nuzzle into his neck and breathe in his scent, licking and kissing his skin the more he fucks his cum deep into your cunt. 

“W-Wolffe…”

“I’m not done with you yet, ner kar’ta.” The promise is both teasing and terrifying, but you can’t find it in yourself to hesitate, not when he was promising you the stars all night long. 

And he does, he brings you the heavens until you can no longer breathe without tasting the cosmos on your tongue. With every touch of his fingers, you beg him for more…more of his sweet words, more of his sinful kisses, more of his needy cock.

He fucks you until you lose your voice, and when he’s sure he’s rung your body of every ounce of pleasure it can offer him, he fucks you some more, filling your pussy until you were nothing but a mess, a mixture of his seed and your juices.

And then he pushes you down and parts your thighs to pull you apart with his tongue, and you feel that familiar heat rise in your chest all over again. You tug on his hair, torn between urging him to make you cum again and pleading for him to stop because you could no longer stand the pleasure. You were so sensitive, and Wolffe knew very well how painful the ecstasy was becoming, but some twisted part of him wanted to mark your cunt with his teeth and tongue as well. He wanted to devour you, body and soul. Your release comes in the form of a silent cry, and Wolffe laps up your mixed cum until you can’t take it anymore, softly pushing his shoulders away so he can slow down.

There is a lazy smile on your features, one that deepens further when you see Wolffe crawling on top of you and leaving a trail of wet kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Satisfied?” He dares to ask, lightly pinching your nipples when you don’t respond right away. You giggle at the touch, pulling him closer to you so he can kiss you some more. He melts into your body, roaming his hands across the tired muscles until he has no choice but to fall beside you.

You hum in response, studying his relaxed expression and laying the softest of kisses on his forehead before pulling him into your neck. Neither of you say anything, and only when your breathing steadies does Wolffe pull away to make sure you’re comfortable and asleep.

He sits up on his elbows and takes in his handiwork, biting his lower lip when he sees the bruises already forming all over your body. The contentment falters for a split second, but his worries evaporate when you sleepily reach for him and bring him back into your arms. He mutters his love for you one last time before surrendering to the comfort of your embrace, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as he rests his cheek on your shoulder. 

It’s hours later when you wake, and you groan tiredly when the sunbeams hit your eyes and make it difficult to escape them. You turn to the other side and peek through your lashes, only to find Wolffe already wide awake, softly touching the length of your arm with his lips and nose, as if he was tracing every little mark he left on your body from last night. He looks up when he notices your breaths coming in erratically, winking at you and smirking at the sudden spirit of shyness falling over your tired form. 

“I can taste the sunlight on your skin.” He moans against your clavicle, lightly nipping at the skin over the bone when you turn away from him and hide beneath the sheets. 

“Hmm…such a smooth talker.” You groan from underneath the shield you’ve created, giggling like a little girl when Wolffe tugs them away and attacks your face with playful nips and kisses. 

“Only for you cyar’ika.” He whispers into your ear before biting at the space just below it, his touches becoming less playful and more needy as he takes in the way your body is reacting to his advances. 

“Wolffe, your lips feel so good.” You throw your head back and sink your nails into the muscles on his back, gasping for air the longer Wolffe continues to mark you up. It’s almost as if he was looking for spots on your skin he hasn’t left his bite marks or fingerprints on. Not that you were complaining. 

“Just my lips, General?” You can hear the smile on his handsome face, and you nearly push back to edge him on, but you realize it would serve you better to give into him and tell him what he wants to hear. 

“N-no, it’s everything you do to me Wolffe. It’s in your touch…your- your voice…your cock.”

“My little Jedi can’t get enough of me.” He shifts you in his arms until you’re laying on your stomach, and when you try to look back to see what he has in mind, he combs his finger into your hair and pushes you into the pillows until he has access to your back. When he hears whine his name, he descends down on you like a crazed man, sinking his teeth into the skin he wasn’t able to reach last night while pulling on your hair to remind you who was in charge. 

“Oh gods…never, Wolffe. Never. I want you all the kriffing time, even now…I just want you to- to,” you forget what you want to say, the need to commit this moment to memory outweighing whatever information your mind wanted to part with. It must be the reaction Wolffe was wanting for because he chuckles against your heated skin and finishes your thought for you. 

“Claim you?”

“Please.” You try to push the sheets away from you so you can feel him against your back, and Wolffe lets go of you for a split second to let you do whatever you wish, returning flush against you once you’re completely nude to his eyes. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, teasing you with the head of his hard cock while keeping a firm hold on your hips so you don’t move against him.

“Can’t really do that now, can I mesh’la?” He struggles through his words, his hungry eyes picturing all the things he still wants to do to you as you lay there beneath him, willingly submitting your entire self to him without a second thought. 

“You’re already mine, little Jedi. You’re mine, have been since you came here all those months ago and told me you wanted me.” He massages your back with his calloused hands, trying to come to terms with the fact that he will never be close enough to you. He’ll never get tired of this. He’ll never not want to touch you with everything he’s got. 

“But since you plead so sweetly,” you moan into the sheets as you feel him part your thighs and slowly sink his cock into your swollen cunt, keeping you filled to the brim and refusing to move until you begged some more. 

“Wolffe...” You reach back and tug on his hair to bring him closer to you, the need to hear what you do to him igniting a flame in your chest, one that only he could put out by showing you how much he craves you. 

“F-ffuck, you’ve ruined the mornings for me cyare. Now I- I won’t stop thinking of your wet, tight pussy when I…kriff, when I wake up.” Wolffe bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips into you, no longer able to control his desires from you. He wanted you to know the effect you have on him, the hold you had on his very soul ever since you walked onto his ship and offered your aid all those months ago. 

“I’m yours Commander, always. Y-you can have me whenever you want.” You sigh heavily when he growls against your skin and continues to fuck into you without caring for how rough he’s being. 

“E-even at sunrise, General?” Wolffe chuckles as soon as your cunt clenches tightly around him at the mention of the honorific, letting you know that he enjoys calling you by your rank as much as he does when you moan his. 

“Especially at sunrise-” You barely manage to breathe out, smiling through the assault he was bringing on your body as you surrender yourself completely to him.

“My little tracinya,” Wolffe nuzzles into the crook of your neck, content with the way you seem to melt the harder he fills you with his cock. A part of him knows he should maybe discuss the incident from last night, but he finds it difficult to pay any mind to your words when he already has you so willing and wanting beneath him. 

Later, he would consider the little issue of your religion later. 

But for now, he was adamant on showing you his own.

[newtonsheffield]

Molly, you have no idea how satisfying it's going to be when Anthony starts writing again the first time he's with Kate. No. Idea. I'm so excited for them.

(Also so fucking sweet.)

It’s a little bit satisfying for Kate as well. She feels bad that he had a few months where he didn’t want to write because of her but in another way it’s hugely satisfying to know she’s Anthony’s biggest muse. They’ve been together three days and Anthony not only has a new idea for a novel; He’s written three chapters of it.

She deserves a bloody pay rise in her opinion. Her boss, Agatha Danbury even jokes about it.

“What did you have to do to get him writing again?”

Kate’s lips twitched up. “Oh just… a little of this, a little of that.”

Her boss fixed her with a slightly amused look, “I can’t pay you for those services.”

“You couldn’t afford my prices. And I assure you; my payment has been more than satisfactory.”

[lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers]

I want to write something long form about the teacher strikes and the state of education in England right now.

You’ll hear a lot of teachers in the coming days and weeks say they don’t want to strike, or they feel guilt about striking. I’ve thought about it, and I want to strike, and I don’t feel guilty, and I think I owe it to students to strike. Maybe not the ones I teach now, but the ones I might teach in five years time.

I owe it to some of the Y7s, 8s and 9s I taught last year who were deeply passionate about science. In particular, I’m think of the Y7s who loved our space topic, and may never get taught by a qualified physics teacher. I’m also thinking about the sort of country they’ll grow up in, the opportunities they’ll have and the future they deserve.

I can write some arguments within the liberal, capitalist context we live in,  for improving education, and specifically why pay and working conditions need to be improved for teachers and why striking is our only option. I know that’s not what a lot of you follow me for, but they may be persuasive if you know teachers or want to talk to people about why they should support the teacher strikes.

1)     There is a national shortage of teachers. This is a fact- we know a large number of teachers do not stay in the profession long term- 1/3 of teachers who trained in the last 10 years are no longer teaching. Other research suggests many of these teachers quit in the first 5 years of teaching. This year, we have struggled to recruit across secondary subjects. In subjects like maths, science, MFL, geography and more, the situation is especially dire- but this crisis is even starting to impact primary schools now. First and foremost, students are going without qualified, subject specialist teachers. In other professions, the Tories acknowledge high pay is needed to recruit suitable staff. Why not teaching- which after all requires a specialist degree and often a post graduate qualification too.

2)     This doesn’t just hurt individual students, it hurts the whole country, because it leaves us with a lack of people who are capable of becoming doctors, dentists, engineers, entering other health care professions, working in the STEM fields that are meant to drive our economy. Investing in education grows the economy long term, and is better for society as a whole.

3)     But it does also hurt the social mobility of individual students. Richer families can pay tutors, or go private to make up for deficiencies in teaching. But those from low income families can’t. Few parents have the time or ability to bridge the gap themselves.

4)     Furthermore, if we think about really vulnerable students- who, make no mistake will be used as a weapon against teachers during the strike- they benefit from well funded schools. They benefit from having consistent adults in their lives. They often take a long time to form relationships with staff. A revolving door of supply teachers (which is the reality in many secondary schools) really hurts them.

5)     Teachers struggle to negotiate pay for themselves. Many schools will baulk at the idea of a teacher negotiating on their own pay, and take deep offense, as if the idea of negotiating pay in a capitalist society when you have an unusual skill is totally unreasonable. So, teachers can only negotiate pay on a national scale. And because the government won’t sit down and negotiate, the only thing we can do is take industrial action.

6)     Ultimately, schools can’t afford to pay teachers well- so any pay rise needs to be fully funded. Again, hence strike action.

 We can say that the teacher shortage is about working conditions too- and it is, for sure. But it’s also true that the teacher shortage appears to be most acute where a teacher’s pay won’t stretch as far because accommodation costs and other costs are high.

I want to take a moment at this point to address the idea of “work to rule”- which doesn’t actually exist in English law, btw.

Action short of a strike in teaching would likely take the form of teachers not running clubs and trips, maybe refusing to do marking as well. These are all things that would negatively impact students, but have a totally negligible economic impact, if at all. It would, inevitably, drag on for months, because the government simply would not notice.

A teacher strike, ideally one that shuts a large number of schools, will have a noticeable impact on the economy, because some parents won’t be able to work or travel. Yes, it’s rubbish for parents, but the impact on students will genuinely be lower than weeks or months of action short of a strike. And it’s the only language the government will listen to, unfortunately.

 I want to talk also about what the Tories are doing to education. I alluded to this earlier, but I think it bears exploring specifically.

The Tories are destroying education. At this stage, I think it’s gone beyond neglect, into a deliberate policy to damage state education. They can’t say that out loud, of course, but why else, at a time of massive teacher shortages, would they cut teacher training places from 2024? Why else would they implement the ECT program in such a way it’s driving early career teachers out of teaching? Why else would they starve schools of funding to such an extent?

Why would the Tories do this?

I’ve got two possible theories for you.

One, they want a poor, uneducated underclass, with limited job prospects, in order to exploit them. And educating the working classes and providing them with opportunities for social mobility runs against that.

Two, some tories take a more eugenicist outlook, they think education is simply wasted on said “underclass”. That no amount of good education would improve the prospects of certain groups, so why bother?

Perhaps it’s a little of column a, a little of column b. Certainly, there are strong objections to teachers in state schools sharing opinions that might be contradictory to the governments’.

So I strongly believe this strike is to preserve the future of education.

 Obviously, if we consider the wider state of the country, there are lot of important reasons to join a wider worker’s movement. And I’m going to come back to that point about working conditions, because part of that is the shortage of funding in other public sector areas, meaning schools are asked to do more and more with less and less.

It’s increasingly clear Rishi Sunak’s Tories are both fascists and disaster capitalists, who are going to take what they can from this country before their party implodes. And you all know what I think of the political alternatives. It’s also true if we wait two years for an election, people will die- not least in A and E waiting rooms, or waiting for an ambulance.

The Tories are happy to let £42 Billion in tax go unpaid (largely by the rich and mega-corporations), and then they turn around and say there’s no money.

I genuinely think this wave of strikes could be the start of something- of meaningful political change that carries this country to the left. Maybe the some of the current union leaders will not push things far enough, but we are the union, so we must push further. And we can use this opportunity to really influence the UK political landscape, and build solidarity for a mass worker’s union.

[idyllic-affections]

employee benefits.

summary. baizhu remains constantly attuned to his chronically ill employee and their needs. it is no surprise that he knows when they are unwell.

trigger & content warnings. chronic illness flare-up.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. baizhu & reader, qiqi & reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this post is an expansion of invisible disability? it's rather visible to me.

author's thoughts. in celebration of me getting baizhu within 30 pulls and me getting to soak up all of his lore like a dry sponge would to water, heres some more baizhu content!! we love him in this household <33 he and kaveh are literally the REALEST genshin characters ever with the most relatable trauma and ideals like what the fuck man..... /lh

baizhu knows that some days, his junior herbalist just can't work; it's far too much for their body. he's had many such days himself. it's unavoidable and unpredictable—some days, his body doesn't function well even if he was completely fine the day before. the same applies to his young hire. as such, he is often the one able to see the signs as soon as the day begins.

"good morning, dr. baizhu, qiqi, changsheng," they greet, a tired smile on their face. their smile widens a little bit when qiqi tugs their sleeve to draw their attention before handing them a pastry.

"[name] needs to eat."

"hehe... yes, you're absolutely right, qiqi. thank you."

she hums, content, as they pat her head. she remains glued to their leg.

the way their chest rises and falls is blatantly irregular, as if they're trying to catch their breath. there's a slight tremble in their limbs as well. baizhu briefly wonders if qiqi is supporting their weight, if she's somehow, subconsciously aware that something is off about them this morning in particular.

"oh my," baizhu muses, observing their tired disposition. "did you not rest well?"

"what he's trying to say is that you look awful."

"jeez, it's this early and you're already bullying me, changsheng? gui isn't even here yet. it's too early... what did i do to deserve this?" they huff. "to be honest, i woke up feeling unwell. i don't know why. i just feel very weak today."

"hmm..." he's thinking. if they are unwell, he absolutely will not permit them to work, given that they may faint or collapse at any point. he simply doesn't want to see them hurt themselves. "well, there's still quite some time until we officially open. come. i'll examine you."

"do i get an employee discount?" they joked, to which he smiled.

"i won't be charging you."

"wha— no. i was joking. i was kidding. you can't not charge me. that's hardly fair, given that i can afford it. i know we're supposed to make things as easy and affordable for patients as possible, but i don't need those accomodations. i work here. i already have easy access to everything i need."

"don't be stubborn, [name]."

"i am stubborn, dr. baizhu. you can't be hypocritical and expect me to allow that."

silence. then, the liyuean doctor chuckles fondly. the way he gazes at them is soft.

what a handful they are.

"fine, fine. i'll take the cost from next month's pay, alright? just let me look at you. we can't have you collapsing on us today, now can we?"

a month later, they find something... oddly normal about their pay. not a single mora has been deducted.

"dr. baizhu, i love and respect you and would never doubt the things you say, but... you said you would take my examination cost from my next paycheck. this is the same amount of mora i get every month."

"oh, did i say that? hm, i can't seem to recall that conversation."

"...with all due respect, you're insufferable sometimes."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[drakaripykiros130ac]

Loved this Council meeting.

Princess Rhaenyra making a good point…

And Alicent drowning in her sorrows because she can’t stand Rhaenyra being right. But she doesn’t have any counter argument against her reasoning in relation to the Bracken - Blackwood incident, does she? She acts like a “mature” woman, rolling her eyes, smirking and drinking (*cough* Cersei 2.0 *cough*).

And then there is the matter of the Stepstones. Daemon is a war hero, fought hard and single handedly killed the Crabfeeder. He was named King of the Narrow Sea, but gave up this honor, gifting the Stepstones to the Crown. He deserves the utmost respect for that.

And some bearded idiot (I don’t even know who he is), dares to belittle his great victory. Alicent doesn’t miss the opportunity to put the whole blame of losing the Stepstones on Daemon (even though it wasn’t his responsibility) simply because she dislikes him.

And when Rhaenyra makes valid points once more, defends Daemon and rightfully scolds the Crown for not protecting their own lands…

This woman is desperate to prove her wrong and fails miserably. She doesn’t even present a counter argument to prove her reasoning that Daemon is to blame. She immediately moves to “We cannot afford it.” Aha. So you admit that it was the Crown’s responsibility to defend the Stepstones, not Daemon’s.

As for the costs, like Rhaenyra says, “Cost of war is greater.” One way or another, the people have to pay taxes. Either they pay a more reasonable amount for fortifications or they will pay a humongous amount when war is on their doorsteps. But Alicent doesn’t have the capacity to understand that, and doesn’t provide reasonable arguments, just unreasonably rebuffs anything Rhaenyra has to say. As if it would kill her to admit that Rhaenyra is 100% right.

How mature of her. She has no leg to stand on (they’re probably off to be polished for her special night with Larys), acts like she is the smartest person in the room (Cersei impersonator), and then cries that she needs her father, because no one else is partial to her.

The Realm suffered greatly under the time she ruled in Viserys’ place. She and Otto ignore the smallfolk (confirmed in episode 9) and have no other interest other than promoting those of House Hightower and advancing their family’s position.

They’re a bunch of social climbers who are truly simple minded when it comes to politics. Reminder: Otto made the same reasoning mistakes at the Council meeting in episode 1, when he was trying to undermine Daemon, and Daemon pretty much check-mated him. Otto has no counter argument and changed the subject to Rhea Royce just to try and get a rise out of Daemon. This just proves what terrible political minds Otto and Alicent actually have. I mean, what can you expect from a handmaid turned queen through deception and a power hungry father?

Alicent had a good time abusing her position to make Rhaenyra’s life miserable. Can’t wait to see the tables turned.

Rhaenyra has demonstrated diplomatic finesse, a good strategic mind and potential to rule, which is more than can be said for Alicent, her snake of a father or her “precious children”.

[treba-neco-napise]

i hate having four fucking ads on a 20-minute podcast episode.

(it's a rant, enjoy.)

no, i don't want to get your shitting plus subscription, i don't even pay for 95% of the films and shows i watch online. stop fucking begging for patrons, it's not our problem you want to do this full-time. good for you if you do it but it's not somehow our duty to get you there just because you're a creator. not everyone can afford 60 fucking subscriptions. instead of people getting the minimum to at least get by as a basic human right, i bet like 85% of creatives online are making elite clubs on patreon and shit for those who have spare money. i get that you need it, but so many people (especially PDA neurodivergents) are extremely put off by being asked to pay and won't do it (like me) just because of that. i've encountered art that had the option to pay without requiring it, and I did. because they deserved it anyway, and they understood the classism and capitalism ingrained in the internet creative culture and that a lot of people don't have the means to become members of the club. i'm planning on starting a podcast, been wanting to publish fiction in paper since i was a kid, and i still want to make all that 100% free with the option of payment, because i believe that knowledge, stories and art should be accessible to anyone, regardless of financial situation (what do you think libraries are for, hm?????). when it's not, that's when elitism starts to rise and i'm just too tired for that shit. the empty snobbery culture around modern art alone is driving me insane.

Starkid has been recording their performances for years and guess what - they're massive, they sell out, people attend their live plays for the experience, but those who can't are still able to be a part of the fandom (as opposed to broadway musicals that get shared through bootlegs, hm) and they don't expect their fans to be responsible for their means of living. people who want to see a live performance, to buy your book in a bookshop professionally bound and keep it, to thank you for making your day by buying you a coffee will do so of their own free will. don't beg them to pay for your groceries if you made the choice to put your art out there. it's the system that is responsible for taking care of your basic needs, not your fans.

[deadlynavigation]

Grovel

Warnings: none.

Author's Note: It's funny because if my friends (who have been trying to get me to watch Star Wars for years) had told me that Anakin is hot (lol get it because Mustafar) I would have watched the series a lot sooner.

Find the Darth Vader Version here.

Navigation

“What the kriff was that?” You burst into the briefing room.

Anakin turns to you, the rest of the politicians following his action. Once he sees who it is that interrupted his report, he curses silently, fear taking over his expression.

“Everyone out.” The general demands. He cannot afford any witnesses.

The politicians slowly cycle out, squishing between you and the doorframe as you refuse to move from your defensive stance in the middle of the action. Mumbles of “sorry” and “pardon” are directed towards you every so often, no one brave enough to ask a decorated war hero to move.

Once everyone is out, you slam the door shut, not breaking your gaze from where he is quite literally shaking in his boots.

Silence envelopes the room. Both wait for the other to speak in what has to be the most uncomfortable tension in the galaxy.

Not one minute passes before Anakin starts to speak.

“Baby, I apologize-”

You cut him off with a laugh. “You apologize. That’s cute, honey.”

Anakin sighs. “I don’t know what you’d want me to do.” And he really doesn’t- he’s never screwed up this badly, and especially not on a mission that you orchestrated. He doesn’t know the protocol to calm you or even just apologize.

You tilt your head in interest. The gears start turning in your mind, thinking of the best way to pay your lover back for his abominable performance today, just as he has done many times before to you. It’s only fair.

“I’d have you get on your knees.” And you wait.

Anakin closes his eyes briefly before bending himself down to his knees. And though it wounds his ego in more ways that he can imagine, he pushes through the emotional hurt for you.

You notice his hesitation, a pleased expression overcoming your face. Again, it’s only fair. Even if that means his ego is shattered into hundreds of miniscule pieces.

“Now grovel.”

“Y/n-”

“Grovel.”

The silence returns, with you staring him down fiercely and him fighting everything that has been shoved at him by the Order in order to fulfill your wishes. It takes one, two minutes of this back-and-forth before he finally comes up with the words, ready to lay them at your feet in hopes of forgiveness.

“Baby. My love. Y/n. I am so sorry for my actions and am willing to do anything to make it up to you.”

You tilt your chin up as he speaks, eyes softening.

“My apologies can only go so far, so I offer you myself along with any other future opportunities. I can only hope that you take this with grace, even though I know fully well that I do not deserve even that.”

Maker, if anyone walked in and saw the great Anakin Skywalker on his knees for a warrior of your sort, begging for forgiveness, he’d get kicked off this planet.

You, however, don’t care in the slightest. So you let him kneel in the tense atmosphere for a minute more before gesturing for him to rise, signifying that his groveling did indeed work and he is free to go.

“That will do, I suppose.” You admit somewhat begrudgingly.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Anakin strides over to where you stand, lowering his forehead to rest on yours. “And when I offered myself, I meant it.” He grins, some of his ego returning.

“Ani.” You sigh exasperatedly. “But yeah, I know.”

“So if you know… I’m only saying, we do have some free time. I was almost finished with my report anyways, and you don’t have anything on your schedule today, last I checked.” He bites his lip in anticipation.

You groan, not willing to admit that he’s right. “You’re the worst.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.” Anakin finishes off strong. You push at his face, trying to smother your smile before he catches sight of it. He doesn’t mind at all, moving your hand to an angle where he can coat your knuckles in innocent kisses.

“Fine,” you give in. “But we’re going to the beach if you want alone time with me.”

Anakin throws his head back and whines. You pay no attention to it whatsoever.

“We can set up a blanket on the sand, maybe walk around in the sand, throw some sand around-”

“OK, Ok. I get it.” Anakin interrupts you, laughing. “Let’s just go to my room. Come on, while Obi-Wan can’t see.” He lightly grabs your forearm, whisking you away to his room while you think on how to get some sand in his bed.

It’s only fair.

[reblogalanaartdream]

If you want to see animation flim but can’t afford it and you’re in a hard place

Or live in part of the world that flim will never air?

Ok I get it go pirate that movie 🍿

If it’s a Disney Disney animated movie

Yeah go pirate that flim they can afford a lost and they’re not always known for treating their creators and animators well (( find ways to go support their creators and animators and artists wherever you can please))

But if you can afford to pay to see your animated movies and you want them to do well and you know maybe keep on going you better NOT be the asshat who pirates that animated flim

You go watch it in theatres and buy the dvds for it

Do NOT be a cheap if you can afford it

Because unlike Disney

Animated companies like Sony; Studio Ghibli and Dreamworks had to work sooo long and soo hard

Against Disney just to get to where they are today

Heck once Pixar was against Disney but then being as 3d animation costs a hold lot more to make than 2d and requires a hold lot more people to make they nearly went bust but the Disney bought them and Disney had less competition

Also dreamworks started being as Disney didn’t want to invest money into 3D animation after how much it cost to pay 3d animation & animators for treasure planet movie and their piss off the animators so bad they got together a team of their own and started dreamworks animation team away from Disney to compete with them

Also if you’re saying oh but dreamworks a big animated movie company now

Let me remind you of the movie

Rise of the guardians

The one with the Jack Frost character so many of you like to ship with Disney’s frozen Elsa character

Do you know even though it was such great well received movie it couldn’t get it’s story continued

In fact it’s 2nd movie got canceled

As you see here it didn’t make it to getting more movies 🍿

Because not enough people went to go see it

It was the most pirated movie when it came out

It didn’t make the gross it needed to prove people would watch it’s story to continue so it got canceled

Shrek

Kun fu panda

How to train your dragon those movies got the funding it needed for their stories to continue but never rise of the guardians

Dreamworks isn’t Disney they cannot afford to keep doing stories that will not make profit

Disney can afford to lose to dreamworks

But Studio Ghibli and dreamworks can’t lose to Disney

So when studio ghibli and dreamworks make an animated film and you can afford to go see it and to get the dvds please don’t pirate it

There’s a hold team of animators / writers and artists working on their movies who you are stealing work from when you pirate animated films

Plus someone needs to go against Disney

Disney needs to be taken down a few pegs

Because Disney has taken awards it didn’t deserve to get when they should’ve gone to studio ghibli and dreamworks as well

Heck man I know Sofie from howl’s moving castle

And Branch & poppy from trolls

Would want you to be more supportive of animated films (( within reason))

I just don’t want what happened to rise of the guardians to happened to any other animated flim that isn’t Disney one

Don’t let Disney keep on winning it doesn’t deserve it

Look I get it if you cannot afford or movie not available where you are I’m not attacking you

I’m mad at those who can afford it that pirate

Animated films (( wish they did it more to Disney films to be honest; because Disney can afford it let’s be honest here; plus Disney has a lot of dark history on not treating their writers/ animators/ artists/ actors all that great that people seem to ignore because oh it’s *Disney* witch isn’t ok for Disney to keep getting away with))

Look if you can’t afford it or it’s not available to you or you don’t have the time or just waiting for the dvd

Of it to come out cool

But please if you can afford it please go see the movie and not pirate it (or get it when it’s on dvd)

Just don’t do Disney a favour by stealing from studio ghibli / dreamworks thank you

[mccncreatures]

Beau’s breath was ragged as he crept through the dark underbrush of the forest, every muscle in his body tense. The memories were vivid, etched into his mind like scars—his parents’ broken bodies, the scent of blood thick in the air, and the man who had taken everything from him. Beau had been just eleven years old when it happened. He had cowered in the shadows, terrified and helpless, watching as his parents were slaughtered before his eyes.

Seven years later, the boy who had hidden in the dark was gone. In his place stood a man driven by a singular purpose: revenge. He had tracked the rogue for years, his every waking moment consumed by the need to find him, to make him pay for what he had done. And now, finally, after all this time, he had found him. Members of the pack had helped, and reminded him he wasn’t alone. Even Hope had offered to come, wanting to ensure his safety more than anything else. But this one thing, he had to do it without her. Without Hayley or Logan.

This one thing he needed to do for himself.

Beau’s grip tightened around the silver dagger at his side as he approached the clearing. The campfire ahead flickered, casting shadows on the trees, and there he was—Lyle Delacroix, the rogue wolf who had destroyed Beau’s life. The name alone sent a wave of fury crashing through Beau, a fury that had been building for years.

Lyle sat on a log, sharpening a blade with casual ease, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Beau’s hands trembled with the effort it took to stay quiet, to keep his rage in check. He couldn’t afford to lose control—not yet. Not until he had answers.

Beau stepped into the clearing, his boots crunching softly on the damp earth. Lyle’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Beau. There was a moment of silence, and then a slow, taunting smile spread across Lyle’s face.

“Well, well,” Lyle drawled, setting his knife down and rising to his feet. “Look who finally decided to grow up. Beau Wilmont, all grown up and playing the hero. I figured you’d come looking for me eventually.”

Beau’s jaw clenched, his voice cold and steady. “I didn’t come here to play.” Lyle chuckled, circling around the fire, his eyes never leaving Beau’s. “Oh, I know you didn’t. You’ve got that same fire in your eyes your father had. The same foolish loyalty.”

Beau took a step closer, his chest tight with the weight of his anger. “You killed them. You killed my parents, and for what? To take over the pack? To try and overthrow Hayley?”

Lyle’s smile faded, replaced by a sneer. “Hayley was a weak Alpha,” he spat. “She didn’t deserve to lead. Your parents were fools for following her, and they paid the price for their loyalty.”

“They were loyal to family,” Beau shot back, his voice rising. “They believed in her, in us, in everything we stood for. You took them from me because you wanted power. Because you couldn’t stand that someone else was stronger than you.”

“Stronger?” Lyle scoffed, stopping a few feet away from Beau. “Hayley was a liability. She was leading the pack into ruin, and your parents were too blind to see it. They were in my way. I did what had to be done.”

Beau’s breath hitched as the memories flooded back—the screams, the blood, the sight of his father’s body crumpling to the ground. He had spent seven years trying to make sense of it, trying to understand how anyone could be so cruel. But now, standing face to face with the man who had torn his world apart, he realized there was no understanding it. There was only justice.

“You didn’t have to kill them,” Beau said quietly, his voice shaking with the effort to hold back his tears. “You didn’t have to take them from me.”

Lyle’s eyes flickered with something—regret, maybe, or pity—but it was gone as quickly as it came. He shrugged. “That’s where you’re wrong, Beau. I did what was necessary. Your parents were a means to an end. Nothing more.”

Beau’s hand tightened around the hilt of the dagger, his knuckles white. “You took everything from me,” he whispered. “Everything.”

Lyle’s gaze hardened, his posture shifting as he prepared for the fight that was coming. “You want revenge, boy? You think killing me is going to bring them back? It won’t. You’re just like them—weak, loyal to the wrong people. And you’re going to die just like they did.”

The words sent a jolt of anger through Beau, igniting something deep inside him. He could feel the wolf within him stirring, the beast he had kept at bay for so long, but he wasn’t afraid of it anymore. He welcomed it.

With a sudden burst of speed, Beau lunged at Lyle, the silver dagger flashing in the firelight. Lyle was ready, meeting him with a vicious snarl, and the two clashed in a brutal fight. Fists flew, claws slashed, and teeth bared as they grappled in the dirt.

Beau fought with everything he had, the memories of his parents driving him forward, giving him strength he didn’t know he possessed. But Lyle was strong too, stronger than Beau had expected, and he could feel his body wearing down, every punch sending a shockwave of pain through him.

Lyle managed to pin Beau to the ground, his hand around Beau’s throat, squeezing tight. “This is where it ends, Beau,” Lyle growled, his face twisted in a snarl. “Just like your parents.”

Beau gasped for air, his vision blurring, but he refused to give in. He wasn’t that scared little boy anymore. He wasn’t helpless. With a surge of strength, he wrenched his arm free and plunged the silver dagger into Lyle’s side.

Lyle’s eyes widened in shock, his grip loosening as he staggered back. Beau scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving with exertion, and with one final effort, he drove the dagger into Lyle’s heart. Lyle gasped, blood bubbling from his lips as he collapsed to the ground. Beau stood over him, his body shaking with a mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline, watching as the life drained from the man who had taken everything from him.

The clearing was silent, save for Beau’s ragged breathing. Lyle’s body lay still, the fire casting flickering shadows over his lifeless form. Beau’s hand trembled as he wiped the blood from the dagger, his mind numb. He had done it. He had avenged his parents. But there was no sense of victory, no relief. Only an overwhelming emptiness.

Beau sank to his knees beside Lyle’s body, his hands clenching in the dirt. Tears blurred his vision as he thought of his parents, of everything he had lost. They were gone, and nothing he did would ever bring them back.

But he had protected Hayley. He had stopped Lyle from taking the only parent he had left. And that had to mean something. It had to. As the first rays of dawn began to break through the trees, Beau wiped his tears and stood. He took one last look at Lyle, then turned and walked away, leaving the past behind him. The weight of the curse was already settling over him, but he didn’t care.

He had done what he came to do. The rest—he would face that when the time came.

[moonlight-prose]

EPIPHANIES IN DISGUISE

➝ 03. WE'LL HAVE MANHATTAN

a/n: so i originally gave up on this fic. fully ready to delete it from here and ignore i ever started it, but then someone gave me such a warm message that it reminded me of my love for this story. i also only posted it to ao3 a long time ago, because i wasn't interested in putting it here anymore. but now i'm saying fuck it and continuing my small self indulgent murder mystery.

summary: you'd never consider yourself a detective, but when javier shows up with evidence...things begin to take form.

word count: 4.1k+

pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

warnings: not explicit, cussing, talk of murder, talk of death, mentions of vomit, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, ptsd, grief, angst, and dark humor.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

You wished Ria lived just a little bit closer to your place, but for some reason she was insistent on finding a place that was fit for a king. Granted…she could afford it. You suppose that’s why you were heading there—looking for something entirely different to get your mind off of what happened. Off the sight of Jasper lying on the ground dead. Fuck, you could barely close your eyes without seeing his lifeless eyes and that thought alone had bile rising up the back of your throat.

“Hey you alright?” the cab driver asked, his eyes wary in the rearview mirror.

Nodding quickly, you nearly sobbed with relief as he pulled off the side of the road—Ria’s apartment building right in front of you. “Thanks,” you mumbled, tossing the cash his way and stumbling out onto the sidewalk.

A few more minutes in the fucking cab and you’d have to pay extra just to have the car detailed and cleaned. You certainly didn’t have enough money for that. The morning sun was cresting over the city skyline—a sight you’d never tire of seeing—and it was then you realized how much you needed sleep. How much you craved it. After hours in a police station, still covered in Jasper’s blood, you felt as if death was steadily breathing down your neck.

Waiting for you to keel over too.

Shoving the prickly feeling on your back, you carefully climbed the steps, the alcohol and shock mixing together to create quite a lethal combination. You’d have to thank Javier for the booze, but also make him promise never to do that again. Sure, you kissed him because you were sad, lonely, desperate for comfort, but it wasn’t right—especially given that you were a known lightweight when it came to alcohol. If the two of you were to ever talk again (although you hoped it’d only happen when he found who killed Jasper) you needed to pretend that nothing happened.

That you were merely two strangers again.

You were grateful that Ria’s apartment building elevator was always broken. At this point you weren’t sure you could even handle that motion. Instead you climbed the stairs one by one, keeping your eyes on your feet below and doing your best not to trip and fall. It was harder than it looked though.

“She just had to live on the fifth floor,” you muttered, the wave of nausea nearly bringing you to your knees. “Fuck.”

“Hey is everything okay?” A man’s voice came from the top of the stairs, his footsteps following quickly after as he met you where you’d sat down.

“Mhm,” you slurred. “I’m fucking fanta—oh shit—” Falling back, you were met with dark brown eyes filled to the brim with concern.

When you said that New Yorkers were some of the rudest people alive you only meant those that refused to have a single fibre of empathy in their whole body. But every once in a while, there’d be someone like this, who extended a small amount of kindness towards a stranger they didn’t know. You found yourself smiling, hot tears falling down your face yet again, as you thought of someone else who was this kind for no reason. Jasper was always there for you—even when you feel you didn’t deserve it.

“Let me help you,” he said softly. His hands were gentle as he brought you to a standing position, looping your arm over his shoulder and leading you the rest of the way up. You wanted to thank him, but all that came out was an incoherent slur of words. “Where are you heading?”

Shaking your head, you tried to free yourself from the fog that filled your thoughts. “Um…fifth floor.”

He nodded. “Fifth floor it is.”

The last time you recalled being this drunk was New Years Eve three years ago—when you’d puked off the edge of a building. Jasper joked about whether or not the laws of gravity applied to vomit. Both him and Ria dragged you home, their laughter filling your ears as they tried to keep the mood light, and if there was a time you’d go back to in your life…it was that one. You’d give anything to relive that night; to see Jasper happy again.

Stumbling, the man helped you up the last few steps, his arm tight around your waist. “I’m Dante,” he said, in the hopes that distracting you would help with how you were feeling.

“I’m…” Trailing off, you stopped him when you came across Ria’s door. The pristine look of the hallway only added to the odd feeling you usually had when coming here.

You loved Ria, you did, but why she chose a building that felt less like home than any other place, you’d never know. A part of you wanted to ask her—know the truth—but even you knew she wouldn’t reveal why she left. Why she felt the need to come live in a part of the city that almost felt forbidden to you. With the way the prices were skyrocketing day by day, the place literally was forbidden. You were in debt just standing in front of her door.

He knocked, helping you lean further into him as the lock on the door clicked and it swung open to reveal Ria. It didn’t take her long to head into panic mode (a usual for her) as she took in the sight of you nearly passed out on the floor. You made a mental note never to drink this much again—one you’d no doubt forget in a few hours. Alcohol and you were frenemies for a reason. Sometimes you could handle what you drank and other times…you were left put into a similar situation as this one. Except the last person to drag you home was Jasper.

That thought left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Hey,” Dante said, his smile reminding you of the man you left on the rooftop. “I found her on the steps and she said you were her friend.”

Ria nodded. “Yeah she’s my— Thank you for doing this.” She held the door open as the both of you stumbled inside, your head now pounding as the alcohol began to slowly wear off.

“There you go,” he muttered, helping you to collapse slowly on her chestnut hued couch. Turning back to Ria he let you fall to the side, your stomach turning one more time. “I live one floor below. Is she…um…okay?”

“No…not exactly, but she’ll get there,” she said softly, the pain explicit in her tone.

It brought the ache in your chest back, reminding you of what happened—what still had to occur in order for this to be done for good. Jasper didn’t deserve the ending that was shoved onto him. He should be here now, laughing with you at the stupidity of your ways. You could practically hear his voice ringing in your ears: “C’mon rosebud you know you can’t handle your alcohol.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, hot tears tracking down your face.

Dante’s voice paused, his eyes glancing back at you with obvious worry in his expression. He didn’t even know you and yet he helped you when he clearly had better things to do. You saw the suit he wore—the fabric probably more than what you made at work in a month—which meant he held a level of importance in life. His time was clearly valuable and yet he still helped you. If you were more coherent, you would have thanked him, but unfortunately your brain was focused solely on one thing…Jasper.

A part of you still couldn’t believe he was gone. He left you here with nothing but the gruesome memory of his death; time you would rather not have. You heard Ria lead Dante out, her words of thanks and see you laters shoved his way, because neither of you knew where you might have ended up if it weren’t for him. You guessed that you would have woken up on the staircase hours later. Probably covered in your own vomit. That image alone caused a shiver of disgust to go down your spine; the pain in your head subsiding as the urge to empty your stomach became prominent.

“How are you doing?” Ria asked, crouching on the floor near where your head lay on her couch.

Mumbling an incoherent sentence, you shut your eyes—tears still running down your face. “He’s gone.”

“I know,” she whispered, cupping your face and wiping away the tears. “Did he…” She inhaled, her words breaking. “Did he say anything to you?”

You wanted to tell her. You would have spilled your fucking guts to her the second you entered through the front door, but something tugged sharply at your heart, reminding you that the words he spoke—the last thing he would every say—was solely for you. Ria didn’t know about your deal. She held no clue that those were the last words you’d ever say to one another. Sober you would have said it without hesitation, but your emotions were broken beyond repair—pain riddling your body like a poison that was weaving its way through every vein.

Opening your mouth to tell her, you found that the words were stuck in your chest. “No,” you lied, shutting your eyes tightly. “He was in too much pain to say anything.”

She believed you quicker than you expected, but given the situation it made sense. “Just lay here okay? I-I’ll get you some water.”

She was crying—you could hear her sniffles as she walked away and it broke your heart to not be able to do anything about it. You wanted to comfort her. Remind her that you were there for her when she needed you, but you could barely lift your head up off the couch. Moving sounded like hell at a time like this.

The both of you were shattered; left hollow as a piece of your group—your family—left you for good. In all honesty you never thought you’d have to suffer through this pain so early in life. Death was inevitable. You knew this, but the sudden shift Jasper’s death caused was brutal enough to cause a downfall in not just your life but Ria’s as well. This wasn’t meant to happen so soon; wasn’t a part of your future for decades to come, yet there you were. Staring at a wall as the future became the present all too quickly.

She returned a few minutes later, her eyes redder than before and a box of tissues in her hand. The glass of water was set on the table next to the couch for easy access, but even you knew it would be left untouched. You couldn’t stomach anything at this moment. Not after filling your body with alcohol and no food. In a few hours you’d be nursing a hangover that would rival any previous ones you’d endured before, but a part of you looked forward to that. The pain let you know you could still feel things—even after your body had gone numb.

“He loved you,” you mumbled into the couch, eyes trained on the white beige of her wall across from you. A single picture frame hung there—a shot from one of her photographer friends. The three of you laughing at a party.

Funny how you couldn’t recall what the party was for or even the year it was taken, but the memory played so clearly in your head. As if it happened yesterday. You wished it had.

“What?” Ria asked, her cat-like eyes snapping to you.

“Jasper. He loved you.”

“Get some rest.”

The smell of lavender hit your nose, filling your senses slowly. She must have lit a candle to ease the tension of the room—or you had officially gone insane. You figured the answer was the former rather than the latter. The pillow she had placed beneath your head was soft and plushy. The embroidered detail pressing against the skin of your cheek. There would be an indent tomorrow morning, but you couldn’t care about trivial things like that—not today.

Your body was worn down from the hours spent in the police station and on the roof and in the apartment. It felt like you hadn’t slept in days and at this point…you weren’t sure you ever would sleep again. The image of Jasper lying in a pool of his own blood was still burned in your mind—showing up every time you attempted to close your eyes. Except your body began to shut down on its own volition; the weight of the night and day now weaning you of the remainder of your energy.

“He loved you,” you breathed one last time, the image of Jasper’s face popping up into your mind once more as you finally gave into the call of sleep.

You woke up with a start, your heart racing as the remnants of your nightmare began to fade in the back of your mind. The memory of last night replayed in your head—a sick and twisted horror film that would never end. Only when you woke up…you were still stuck inside, forced to play out the plot like a failed heroine. Jasper’s last words still rang in your ear, making the hangover you now had even worse.

Groaning, you sat up slowly in the hopes that you would forgo the act of throwing up as your head felt like someone was hammering a nail into your skull. Everything hurt and you could still feel the grime from yesterday on your skin. What you desperately needed above all else was a shower—possibly a greasy breakfast as well, but you’d see about that after you managed to get clean. Your limbs were stiff from falling asleep on the couch and you glanced up to see Ria passed out in a chair beside you.

Waking her up was not an option. She needed just as much sleep as you got and so you grabbed the small notepad on her coffee table, jotting down a note for her. Call me when you wake up. Headed home to shower. Love you.♡

Stepping lightly around her living room you slowly opened the door and slipped out. You couldn’t tell the time—your phone, dead—but you wanted to guess it was heading into the evening hours. The sun began its descent behind the towering buildings, changing the sky to different shades and hues of orange and pink. You loved the sight of sunsets (having spent days on end staring at them and painting them) but tonight that particular view felt like a mockery of your feelings. So bright, so beautiful, even when life turned dreadful.

“Alright,” you sighed, stepping onto the sidewalk and heading down the street.

You could grab a cab back to your place, but the subway entrance was only a few blocks away. In all honesty you wanted to spend as much time away from your home as possible—the temptation to get lost rather than be who you were before all of this suddenly more appealing than ever. You and Jasper always talked about running away. Taking Ria and running—just the three of you on your own. Leaving behind a past that no longer wanted you, but that never truly happened.

If only that became your reality, then maybe Jasper would still be alive.

You didn’t want to dwell on the past let alone on what could have been, but you couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from breaking through. They were always going to be there in the back of your mind, like a predator waiting to strike.

The noise of the subway helped to ease your constant anxiety; the loud echo of the train drowning out everything. People sat in their respective seats, either listening to music, reading, or staring into space. The day was coming to a close—everyone who wore suits now heading back to their homes only to come back out tomorrow morning. A routine that you and Jasper used to make fun of. He never wanted to work in an office—let alone a cubicle—and so on the days when he managed to get out of work you’d come here. Sit in one of the chairs and people watch.

You could practically see him, leaning back against the plastic seat, a smile practically dripping with ease. “I bet they’re slowly losing their sanity sitting in an office.”

The thought of him made you smile for a brief moment, until you were forced to remember what happened.

The train came to a rough stop, your body swaying with the movement and you rushed off the platform, heading up the stairs as your block came into view. It was odd to think that hours ago you were here coming back from your stupid office job; nothing on your mind except what movie you were going to watch with dinner. Strange to see the neighborhood you knew so well still remain the same even though it looked so different to you. You hardly spoke to anyone here so they would never know what happened. They’d never know you were cradling the body of your friend in your arms, that you spent more time in a police station than they had.

But you supposed that was the human experience.

Everyone’s lives were drastically different in their own way.

Searching for your key you headed into your building, the familiar scent of cigarettes and cheap cologne from the first floor tenants filling your senses. Nobody was downstairs thankfully, which gave you the opportunity to rush upstairs. Your head still pounded, but the fresh air eased up the ache in your body enough for you to make it home. Just a few more flights of stairs and you could collapse on your own couch, choosing to sleep until the police found Jasper’s killer.

You were staring at the floor, trying to drown out the outside world, only to stop in place at the sight of someone sitting on the floor by your front door.

“Hey.” His voice was recognizable even before you finished glancing up to his face. The echo of him getting to his feet bounced off the thin walls.

“Javi,” you said, tone dull from the constant onslaught of emotions.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be home.”

“How do you know where I live?”

He huffed out half a laugh. “You had to give your address to the station if we—they needed to find you.”

Ignoring the awkward layer of tension between you two, you simply moved past him and opened your door—not bothering to see if he followed you in. While the action may have been rude at any other time, you were mentally and physically exhausted. You weren’t even sure you could feel anymore than you already had—the possibility now sounding impossible.

He shut the door behind him, eyes taking in the sight of your chaotic apartment. “I didn’t mean to barge in on you—”

“Yes you did,” you said bluntly, dropping your keys and phone on the kitchen table. “What’s going on?”

Him sighing is what made you turn around. “Shit is going sideways.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He squinted slightly, hands twitching at his sides—an old reflex he had from interrogating someone.

“My best friend died in my arms. Tell me Agent Peña, would you be okay if that happened to you?” You wished the words weren’t as harsh as they sounded, but what was done was done. More than anything you simply wanted a break. However, that didn’t seem likely in the near future.

He sighed again. “I’m sorry.”

“Before you tell me anything. I-I need to shower.”

“Right.” He glanced at the couch, waiting until you nodded to take a seat. “Just…don’t mind me. Take your time.”

You left him there, heading into your bedroom and immediately yanking off your shirt and pants. Even your undergarments felt tainted. They were soon discarded as well, tossed into your small laundry basket beside your dresser. You wanted to burn your clothes, but knew that would look bad on your part if they were ever meant to be brought back as evidence. Really you didn’t know how crime shit worked, but you’d seen it happen on television shows. Although they probably differed drastically from reality.

The hot water of the shower seared your skin and it was exactly what you needed. You couldn’t care less if it burned you raw or if the pain of the heat became too much, because you were gone. Numb past the point of giving a shit. The water cascaded down your body, encasing you in a warm tomb. It gave you something to latch onto; something to focus on as you washed the dirt, dried blood, and grime from your body.

Glancing down you watched the water run red as Jasper’s blood was cleansed from you for good. It twisted your heart violently to see it. Some sick and twisted part of you wanted to remain as you were, because at least then you’d have something to prove that he actually died. That’s what you needed for yourself more than anything…proof it happened. Proof that you held him in his final moments—the ache in your chest now hollow and vacant.

It didn’t take you long to shower, not bothering to do anything other than to clean your skin and as you walked out you found Javier sitting hunched over, his hands twirling a lighter between his fingers. He glanced up as he heard you come out, watching you as you popped a painkiller and swallowed a glass of water. The soothing cold temperature of it helped to ease you after such a steam filled shower. You could practically see the tendrils of steam exit your bathroom door—wafting into the kitchen.

“What are you really here for?” you asked, taking the chair across the coffee table.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. “Jasper didn’t die from the stab wound.”

Scoffing, you took another sip of water. “I was there.”

“That sped up the process, but he would have died either way.”

Glancing at the paper, you saw the title Coroner on the top. “What…do you mean?”

He turned it towards you. “Any person with that much fentanyl in their system would die.”

“Jasper didn’t take—”

“I know,�� he stated, telling the truth. “Which means someone poisoned him.”

“W-Why?”

“I don’t know.” He twisted the lighter in his right hand again. “But now I know why they brought in former DEA agents. Just in case they figured this would lead back to something bigger.”

None of it made sense. Not the file, what happened, not even how he died. If someone poisoned him that means they’d have to do it via powder, because as far as you knew…Jasper never took medication. Not since the car accident in college. You dropped your head into your hands, your brain going into overdrive once more. This was fucked—all of it was fucked—yet you couldn’t get away from it. You had to do this for him.

“Let me help,” you said, lifting your head.

“What?”

You nodded. “Let me help you find who did this, because the police aren’t going to figure it out.”

“Well…we don’t know that.”

“I do,” you replied. “You just got here, but I know what happens with murder cases like these. They try to find the killer and eventually another murder happens and they are pushed to focus on that and they label this case as cold. There’s always another murder, but I can’t…I won’t let Jasper’s go unsolved.”

Javier regarded you with a look that would have normally made you feel shy all of a sudden. It was ridiculous to even think that—when you were currently plotting to basically take on a murder case yourself. The kiss wasn’t forgotten about (at least on your end), but you couldn’t allow yourself to focus on that at the moment. You weren’t sure when you’d be able to focus on it again.

“Be careful,” he said. “I don’t want you getting in trouble for taking this on.”

Taking the paper, you glanced at the empty wall to your right. You meant to hang up the picture frames that were gathering dust in the corner of your bedroom, but for now…it’d have to hold something far more important. The small tin of pins was on your kitchen counter and you grabbed one, placing it between your teeth as you pressed the paper to the wall. The first piece of evidence, the first step in finding out what happened.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, stepping back. “We’ve got a murder to solve.”

[umitvar]

{ alisha boe, 28, demi female, she/them } we are so glad to see you safe, CROWN PRINCESS ANETTE OLDENBURG of NORWAY! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are SHARP and OBSERVANT enough to handle it. just don’t let your DETACHEDNESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE A HIDDEN BENEFACTOR, SECRETLY PAYING OTHERS TO LEARN SECRETS.

BIOGRAPHY

you are quiet. you are a pair of eyes always watching, taking every little detail in. information is everything to you, for you cannot afford to get caught unprepared a second time.

you take in the threads on the clothes of the ambassador sent to your attention, the state of the paper that's held in their calloused hands. how the sigil is pressed onto the paper, wax having dripped and then dried down.

you watch the maids that come and leave, the cooks, the guards. you do what you must do with calculated ease and decorum, yet in your head, you calculate the next move. when to push your bishop, and when to protect your king.

you wait for your rightful place on the throne. it is coming. you will do what you must to be prepared for everything and more. this is what you were born for, and you believe you deserve it. you deserve to rule, and you will do it well.

-

anette is the oldest child of the oldenburg family, born and raised as a royal through and through. many call her the perfect example of a princess, and many others, when not within her earshot, liken her to an emotionless statue. there are more colorful terms that have reached her ears, but she carefully listens. not the one to act out at the simplest glimpse of disrespect, she calculates, thinking of a step ahead. from a young age, anette is taught that this is a cutthroat world, and for a while, she is arrogant enough to believe she is prepared for it all.

until — her father disappears. leaving behind that god-awful letter that throws everything off balance. for the first time, anette has trouble schooling her expression. asks everyone to leave, with only the most trusted ones left behind. she reads it, over and over again. then once more. mulls over it in the middle of the night, in the morning, trying to find a secret message, anything to make some sort of sense out of it. she can't. something bitter swims in her stomach, and she tries to push down the worry she feels for her father. thinking he must have planned for all of this. and that he never thought to tell her at all.

it's up to her to sort out this mess, and it's all a very precarious game of tightrope. in the past three years, she has managed to set out an intelligence network of her own. paying those with specific sets of skills, for more knowledge, and for more secrets. her quiet eyes also watch a figure, and anette's reason for her sponsorship lies less with her agenda to rise to the throne, but how she is so intrigued by her person. she keeps this close to her heart, and pretends she has nothing to do with it all.

information keeps flowing in. the news of her father returning reaches her ears — and for the second time, it is quite the shock. her advisors tell her that maybe, she will get the answers she needs. beneath the hurt, there is worry, and relief — and then the reality of all that happened hits. she does not trust her advisors in this very instance. deep down, anette has an inkling this is going to make everything more complicated.

[themusedump]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

The following is a collection of quotes from Vinland Saga. These are taken from the manga. Chapter 1 - 54, the series prologue which is covered in season 1 of the anime. Feel free to change as needed. Warning for violence, slavery, and other dark themes.

---

"Oh geez. The attackers just retreated."

"Idiots performing a full frontal attack on a fortress..."

"I'm not looking for some cheap reward."

"Your warfare is pitiful and I can't bear to watch."

"We will pave your way to victory."

"Guarantee a reward for me."

"Ooh. You're so scary."

"I saw no deception in his eyes."

"We've got to get over this mountain before the moon rises."

"Just as I thought. They're powerless to resist."

"You're a tough kid, know that? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"That was the deal. I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Can it wait right now?! We need to get out of here!"

"Look at all the treasure."

"You'd be dead in three days, you klutz."

"Bring out some good liquor."

"Do you really love gold that much?"

"So anyway... Can you be a witness for me?"

"There is a different way to correctly control any person."

"Hey, isn't he kind of cute?"

"... You've grown, haven't you? How old are you now?"

"Things don't come back to you as fast when you get old."

"This isn't some big mistake inside your head, is it?

"Oh right. Now I remember! He was the fool who gave in life in exchange for his kid's!"

"Can't get emotional in battle."

"He is bound by his pride and past."

"If I had to live without pride, I'd kill myself."

"What a pitiful sight!"

"Every man alive is a slave to something."

"I suppose it would be a waste of breath to tell you not to get back at them."

"Are you a slave too?"

"For some reason, you remind me of myself."

"I wouldn't know how it feels to be a slave."

"I couldn't... kill."

"Enjoy your life as a slave then. You deserve it."

"I can't afford to be optimistic."

"That looks painful. What is it? Whips?"

"He's a slave on the run."

"But I don't have anywhere else to go..."

"He's stopped breathing!"

"A chain is the only necklace suitable for a man."

"Only steel chains around the neck will turn a man into something useful."

"Don't make me chain you."

"I shall not stand for those who make light of the law."

"Only by chains can an outlaw join the ranks of good humans."

"Do you really think you have removed his chains?"

"You will be joining us in this battle."

"A long time ago, I made a living by killing men. But one day, I came to hate it."

"I grew tired of killing. Tired of death."

"The time has come for me to pay the price of all my actions."

"The sword is a tool to kill others."

"Who are you going to kill with this?"

"Who is your enemy?"

"You have no enemies. No one in the world is your enemy."

"There is no one you need to hurt."

"Does that mean he's going into battle alone?"

"As usual, your men have no class."

"They just don't like the Christians."

"I'm just in it for the money. Consider the job taken."

"I didn't realize you were strong enough to jest with me so."

"Tell me about your heroics, man!"

"Do you think they'll let us go if we surrender?"

"He's more than a monster..."

"Aha! Very perceptive!"

"I like guys with a good brain in their head."

"Forgive me. I cannot spare you the brunt of my might."

"You're a strong man. Strong enough to lead an army."

"The only reason I am forced to rely on this sword at all... Is because I am immature."

"A true warrior needs no blade."

"Learn to treasure your life a little."

"Men are all talk."

"Run."

"Why did you come here?! Didn't I tell you to run away?!"

"I don't fight for money. I fight for the killing."

"If we want to stand out, this is the place to do it."

"... Promise me a reward."

"Only those that work on the battlefield get what they want. That's the way of the warrior."

"My life won't come cheap."

"This lovely fool is mine!!"

"I'm willing to indulge this boy's wild suicide mission."

"Uhg. What a mess."

"Looks like they left you behind."

"Poor guy. And you tried so hard too."

"Ooh? Dead already?"

"Still got your will to fight, eh?"

"Oh dear... There he goes."

"My shoulder is dislocated. My right ankle sprained... And a few ribs broken, I'd say..."

"Blast him. Damned crazy madman!"

"If you can't walk, we're just going to leave you here."

"Insane rat-bastards...! What's so fun about all this battle stuff!?"

"I want you to forget about revenge."

"Do you think that will make me happy?"

"You're up early. The sun has yet to rise."

"Too noisy for you to sleep, eh?"

"...... Don't talk to me."

"Are you getting the wrong idea? I'm not one of you."

"You might think you're so clever, manipulating me. I'll let you keep thinking that way. Until the day I slit your throat."

"Hmph! Very scary."

"Time is on your side."

"You will grow older and I will grow old. One day, you will beat me."

"... This is a tedious story. What's your point?"

"So impatient, we are!"

"You ought to listen to this old man's words of wisdom."

"The world of man is slowly but surely... Growing elderly."

"Look, one of the great ironies. Dawn of the age of twilight."

"It's the twilight of all time. No use in letting it pass without a fight."

"They're madmen. Fools drunk on battle."

"I'm here to rescue you. I'll guide you out."

"A man's faster on his feet when he's unnerved."

"Love is the thing that gives all other things value."

"Pathetic. Are you really the same age as me?"

"What? Are you sulking? A big lump like you?"

"Say what it is you've got to say with your own mouth. Your tongue ain't cut out, is it?"

"I am not keeping my silence because I am a coward! I... I am being cautious, I must be cautious!"

"I... I'm different from you lot."

"I am a prince. I have my status to think of."

"Hpmh. Not bad for an excuse."

"I have never seen such an impudent knave!"

"Nobody has ever spoken to me like that!"

"Then it's a fine new experience, ain't it?"

"Shut up and sit down."

"Bah... It's started to snow."

"I can't do anything about the weather no matter how much you complain."

"I'll free you from your worries."

"If only the whole world was always at war."

"There is... No father that does not love his son."

"Do you always eat alone?

"Looks like the battle is over."

"Hmph... The stew's gone cold."

"Unhand me, you knaves! You dare defy my commands?!"

"I can tell what a man's like just by looking at his face."

"I have hated every single one of you. You're worth less than swine."

"Not bad, you whoresons."

"You can't die until I kill you!"

"Lay a single finger on him and I'll kill you!"

"Touch him and I'll kill you!"

"Your courage ain't bad."

"I don't know if you'll be in any condition to talk once I'm done teaching you your lesson."

"Are you telling me to live in this world alone?"

"Do you truly think I can survive?"

"Don't go... I love you."

"Now nobody who loved me remains on this earth."

"Death is that which completes man."

"Is there no love in the heart of man?"

"It seems that the battle has come to an end."

"I grow tired of this."

"I do not wish to see any more fruitless struggle."

"This fight has no meaning. Do not die for nothing."

"Didn't ask for your help. Look after your own wounds."

"Get away from me! Don't touch it!"

"Good. The sentries have gone away. Let's go."

"Damn it... How pathetic."

"Fuck off. I'll kill you, you bastard."

"I was hoping that you'd show a bit more guts."

"Are you wounded?! Are you alright?!"

"Are you in position to fight?"

"Are you shittin' me?! Do you have a death wish!?"

"You've grown to be quite the smartass in a short amount of time, haven't you?"

"God is probably watching us right now, as we speak."

"We will take back what has been taken from us."

"You had me scared shitless back there."

"I had to change. And now I have to change everything."

"If I ever see you on the battlefield, I'll kill you. Ally or not."

"You're smart and strong. I admire you."

"Aren't you lonely?"

"I wanted... to be your friend."

"Aye. You're my... only friend."

"Do you understand what I'm saying? The fight is over."

"Someone had to save her. Not a god. Not a hero. But somebody."

"After spending all that time in the middle of those bastards, I'd have happily killed all of them."

"I can't let that debt go unsettled."

"Bah... Bastard making me chase after him..."

"You're alive..! What a relief!"

"So... you are seeking revenge..."

"Everybody's obsessed with conspiracy bullshit."

"You're disgusting,"

"That's not the face of a true king."

"....? Screams...?"

"Is this the first time you've ever stabbed someone?"

"..... Well done."

"Stand up straight. This is a crucial moment."

"How could you act so stupidly reckless and get yourself stabbed, you idiot!?"

"Come on! Get up! We can get you fixed up later!"

"Cone closer so I can talk to you..."

"Just kill me."

"So kill me. After all, aren't we enemies?"

"Are you really going... to... die...? You're lying, right?"

".... Still looking down on me, you bastard..."

"I'll never forgive you! How dare you die on me like this!"

"What will you do with your life?"

"That's enough. It's time to move on."

[loudlypanickinginvenezolano]

Care for You [Chapter one.]

Silence. Solicitude. Calmness. It wasn’t often that Sonic felt such a hard craving for them. That he felt almost a need, such a need so strong it was pretty much its own being on itself, breathing on his neck, and weighing down on his back and limbs, making his every move sluggish.

Sonic was tired.

He was oh so tired, so weary to a soul-deep level he tried to not feel so commonly. He really couldn’t afford it, after all, with everybody´s hope sitting on his shoulders, and relaying on him, and looking up to him, and yet today… today was rough, to call it something.

Battling since early dawn, public appearances all around the place, people screaming, calling his name, the thick fright he could feel waving off their bodies, those damned cameras being shoved into his face in the most inopportune of the moments and all… he was used to it, it was…okay, of sorts.

Kinda.

 And while he certainly could do without their critics and hawk-like stares…the truth was that he lived for the thrill, that…that he thrived with it, even!

For the feeling of freefalling of a building, for the rush an adventure gave him, the hunger for more knowledge that traveling seemed to just awake in him; for the trill of a battle, of action, the warm that doing a good job, that helping, saving someone always gave him.

The satisfaction of a well done action, of making a good deed knowing he was doing his best to keep his place safe, that he was doing good, helping people he cared for and that deserved that and just that, his absolute best, for they trusted in him, and believed in him.

That knowing he was doing something to help, that he was useful in just the right way.

In making thing better. In making a difference.

He loved it. The feeling…That warmth, or joy sometimes that just clogged his chest. The contentment or excitement of a day gone well, of a good stretch, of accomplishment. Of making a change.

It was…his normal day, at least nowadays when people got more aggressive. He was used to it, to their prying eyes, hunting demeanor, heavy gazes always stabbing him down…

It was okay, all right? He could deal with it within barely a sec. It honestly didn’t get to him so strongly, most of the time he didn’t pay it any mind, too busy to slow down for such silly things. At most, if they got annoying, he would just speed past them with a huff.

Why let them get to him, when it was clearly their motivation?

And yet, everyone got a limit.

He neared his.

He could deal with them nice and easy. It was okay, really.

What wasn’t okay was trying to manipulate him. What wasn’t right was using his name to pull people into things that really weren’t okay.

That were dangerous.

What wasn’t right was getting his ears pulled or his body touched or grabbed just because they wanted a rise out of him. To invade his personal space like he didn’t have any kind of right over it anymore. Like it didn’t exist anymore.

What wasn’t right were the set up cameras always waiting for him to mess up, or their shark-like grins as they twisted information and his words to made them bite right at him, stepping up to him, completely disregarding his limits and shining lights right into his exhausted face.

Always.

The noise.

The fakeness of it all.

The sickening heat.

The hurt on his body.

The ache of his legs.

The pain on his neck and back.

The smoke filling up his nostrils and burning all the way up.

The unsavory questions.

The objectifying looks.

It was too much, sometimes.

He ran, and ran, and ran.

It felt like ages. It felt like a torture, like if everything was trying to claw out his body, skin him to see what was underneath and just step on his heart once everything was said and done.

To discard him once they had their curiosity sated.  Once they realized he was just a living being, like them, and not the funny, sparky toy they seemed to take him as.

His breath was shallow, hitched. His body was sweating, and shivering with an unknown force.

Sonic was tired.

He was so tired of this shit, of this waking up earlier than the sun, of being a subject under a magnifying glass and nothing else and nothing more to everyone around him.

A tool.  

For your political needs? For that popularity rise you are after? For the public attention? Well, apparently he was the one!

He was tired, physically, mentally, the weight of weeks suddenly crashing into his form.

He couldn’t keep up.

He couldn’t keep on.

Oh god, he couldn’t keep on anymore!

He collapsed on his knees, and then on the soft moss covered ground with barely a sound, gasping with collapsing lungs and trying to get back the feeling on his sore body, blindly clawing at the soil, panting, pained.

Tired. 

He wasn’t even sure about how much time did he spent like that…minutes, hours… He wasn’t aware.

He wasn’t there, numb yet shaken to his very core.

The void sucked at his fingertips as he stared deeply at its edges, unblinking.

Between something and the other, you could say he felt into a slumber, an all-encompassing lack-of-feeling/sensibility spreading through his body and bringing cold to his limbs.

He only came to himself when he felt someone approaching, and he had to change his sprawling figure a little, already searching into himself for the last bit of energy in his being so he could flash a smile and wave off any concern or rude question he knew may be on his way. Careful it wouldn’t be a savage, and out of proportions affirmation about himself and his lifestyle, because, fuck. People loved doing these, accusing him of whatever type of mess they decided to spew at his face, not caring about wherever it made sense, or not.

And believe him when he says that they don’t care. Not at all.

When he opened his eyes, lies ready to roll of his tongue, startled ruby ones were everything he saw.

It was enough of a shock to had him of all persons spluttering rather unflattering in front of his boyfriend, who, thanks to Sonic´s unexpected actions, lost his footing and fell back on his bottom with a loud ``Ack!``, currently rubbing his eye with his fist as he grimaced.  

“I am not quite fond of the water plays, hedgehog. Try to keep them to yourself?” He gritted, a disgusted expression obvious on his face.

Casual.

Completely casual.

just popping out of nowhere. Of course that was normal and totally expected.

Why was he surprised, again?  

“What are you doin-what-how… How did you find me?!” Sonic squeaked, blinking furiously and trying to stand on his still jelly like legs.

…

It may be unnecessary point out, but, that was, of course, a failure.

Damn.

He really was out of it. His brain was still trying to catch up and start running the program like usual but damn it was lagging.

The hell was going on?

How was Shadow here?

Why?

Shouldn’t he be in his house, resting?

The hedgehog in question just frowned at him, lifting the basket he held on his hand right on Sonic´s eye level, half full with things Sonic couldn’t really name, and gesturing at it with his free hand.

Oh.

Right.

In Sonic´s defense he… well. He didn’t notice it, honestly, and how was that possible was a serious question he won’t dwell on.

He totally wouldn’t think about what could have happened had it been something AND someone different. Nop.

Not today!

“I was picking up things for dinner and tomorrow breakfast, as I always do, hedgehog. Always. Do. Shouldn’t you know that by now?”

“Yeah but you don’t… you usually don’t… just how late is it?”

Where were they, even?!

Was this a dream?

Was he feverish, talking with an illusion?

Was he dying, bleeding out in some unsightly dig somewhere and this was what his mind conjured up to his passing out? 

Shadow´s frown deepened. “Have you hit your head?”

“Aw, C´mon it’s a valid question! I, I…don’t look at me like that, Shadow! I…Just don’t know for sure, but it is not why I- You were searching for me?” His mind was a mess, the subjects he tried to focus on way too many and changing way too fast for even him to keep up. Answering just one question seemed too challenging… He did the effort on sitting up even if all his body screamed at him to not do, to just lay there and hopefully melt into the earth to disappear. Then again, Shadow might just dug him out right away, so, would there even be a point?   

“Should I have?” Shadow tilted his head, some curiosity on his eyes that he didn’t bother in hiding as they trailed down Sonic´s body, searchingly, before looking back at his face, arching his eye ridge. He, mercifully, did not comment on the speedster’s flinch, nor on the tense way his body was curled. “Something I should know, hedgehog?”

“No.” The word was out of his mouth before he ever really thought about it, a small shake that was everything his head could manage at the moment. Something more and he would end up puking out an empty stomach, and that was never fun. “There…there really is not, babe. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, kay?” Shifting his weight, he reached out a hand, not minding a bit the slow spreading pain on his upper muscles; actually, it was the last thing on his mind right now. How could he stop to think about the annoying sensation when all of his focus was on the hybrid in front of him, a tender smile in those lips he adored so much as Shadow rubbed his cheek against his palm, letting him cradle his face with no complain.

Damn.

He loved Shadow´s smiles.

“Up?”

“Whatever you wish.” It was habit, by this point. Shadow´s hand came up as well, holding his to keep it still just so he could twist a bit and left a little kiss on his palm and then his knuckles, not paying mind to Sonic´s blush or the little burns or scratches littered on his skin. He didn’t comment, and didn’t ask neither.

Sonic thought he loved him a little bit more than before.

With barely a move now the both of them were standing, Shadow´s arm finding its way around Sonic´s body, steadying him while holding him close, shamelessly hugging him in all honestly, surrounding him with his heat and sweet, homey scent, as finally the hedgehog was able to plant a kiss on his beloved forehead after longs hours apart.

Ah, seriously, how had the mighty fallen, that now such small time away made his heart feel tight like cord… with a little coy smile, he indulged himself in the embrace. “Sorry, I pulled you too hard.”

“…No biggie.” Sonic´s voice was quiet, a whisper of nervous energy and shifty eyes…but a lot of their moments had turned into this, recently. And while Shadow smile was more short lived than usual, he didn’t comment or question his partner muteness or thoughtful expression.

The thing was…Shadow didn’t pull too strongly. It was physically impossible. It…It was him the one at fault, and, just how shameful was that?

The one that needed a second to find his right footing even now, as he felt his boyfriend kiss his cheekbone, and then his cheek… it was him, the supposed renowned hero.

…  

He didn’t feel like a hero just then. If anything, he felt more akin to trash, to an unknown weakling that crawled out of his shell and was now in the open. He felt weary, and unsteady. His legs didn’t want to work, and his boyfriend felt so lulling under him… so calm, and warm, and inviting.

So real. So alive.

Safe, maybe.

They just waited, then… as for what? Shadow wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think Sonic knew it, either, but they did, just breathing in, holding each other as the azure relaxed more and more ...until suddenly they weren’t, each taking a step back in synchrony.

Sonic stretched, gaze on the far away trees, knowing better than to offer a hand.  

Shadow carefully crouched, setting his basket in the ground so he could pick up the ingredients and what-not that fell off.

A peach bared hand was firmly perched on a dark shoulder, though, and a gloved one rested on top of it, quietly.

Neither talked for a while, content just as they were. Comfortable.

It really wasn’t something to scoff at in their lifestyles. Those moments were from the most treasured, the scarcest.

However, the sun was starting to go down, and the skies were darkening with quite the speed, suspicious raising in Shadow´s stomach as he eyed the gloomy clouds he could see.

They needed to move. 

Straightening up once more, Shadow took Sonic´s hand off his shoulder, holding it to his lips so a small tender kiss could be laid on the [Wounded. Sonic is wounded, his mind screamed non-stop.] appendage, softly lowering it and letting it go, despite his lover´s pout and confusion.

A small flicker towards the rain clouds ahead of them, and Sonic eyes cleared slightly in understanding. Good.

He started to walk away, calm, slowly, studying the plush greenery around him with scientific dedication, stopping from time to time to sniff at a few, or rub a single leaf between his fingers, sometimes taking a few and setting them inside his basket, sometimes taking the time to scribble down a few words after looking around.

If Sonic noticed or doubted his slow pace, he didn’t say something, focused in the ground at his feet, making sure the rain was still far, and trying to keep up with the ebony already slow steps.

If he noticed Shadow´s lingering glances, he ignored them.

Shadow was okay with silence.

“I take it I was close to the house, then?”

But…maybe Sonic was not.

Part of him was growing restless, and he kind of half hoped his boyfriend would suddenly propose to help him Chaos control away.

Usually he would say no. He knew that. Even when tired, or slightly wounded, Every time Shadow proposed, Sonic said no.  

Running, hell, even walking, it always gave him a rush. Life. Energy.

He was so tired though. He almost didn’t want to think of it at all���

Would it be too out of character if he asked for it?

“You would be quite right, dear.” A silence. Ruby eyes snapped to his left, getting lost in the deep mess of foliage. His words were also lost, apparently. Sonic could almost see the gears on his brain working overtime. “I take it you weren’t planning on coming home?”

Home…

Well. It was curious that from all the places he could have ended in he so casually found himself that close to Shadow´s house.

To home.

Yeah. He liked that word. It was especially lovely coming out of Shadow´s lips. It was especially lovely knowing that the dark hero saw him as part of that home.

“How could I not, Hn?! Wouldn’t have missed it for nothin´!” He assured, and this time the smile that grazed his lips came easily to him. It came with life, and love, and Shadow didn’t have any kind of shame at the way he marveled at it, before a small yet equally heartfelt smile formed on himself.

I adore you, it seemed to say. Thank you, it seemed to scream.

The dark hero looked away for a moment, bottom lip softly held between his teeth. He was happy. Sonic could tell. He was so happy and the only thing they did was smile at each other.

How simple, wasn’t it? Sometimes he felt like pleasing Shadow was too easy…

Sonic wasn’t happy.

He just wasn’t. or…

He didn’t think he was, at least.

 But it was an improvement, that was for sure. Like calm was finally edging into his consciousness, closing, and closing in. on his reach.

It didn’t seem to imposing, anymore.

It was a good feeling.

In a way, he was happy to had it. He was happy to have Shadow with him.

He still felt tired. But it was okay.

Once home he was going to rest. And then maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad afterward.

It was going to be okay.

////

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