#op your entire account is gold

[namor-shuri]

Your tags on my venn diagram post are gold and should be a fic.

LMAOOO not me forgetting y’all read my tags 😭 Look, your venn diagram is accurate af and I really hope you bless us with more. The world wants to see these talented men come together and team up on a project [or in my case, tag team me]. But hey, I support both scenarios. Your fic comment got me thinking “what if I actually wrote a fantasy, porn without plot one shot about them?” So then I attempted it [HEAVY on attempt because I haven’t written a fic before 🥲] But here goes nothing *gulps*. Hope you like it op! @scruffylookingpiratecaptain 💗 *deletes my entire account and moves across state lines afterwards* lol

- - - - - - - - x x x - - - - - - - -

Gael Bernal Diego Luna Tenoch Huerta Pedro Pascal Oscar Isaac

“I want to fuck like we’re filming in the valley.”

**Warnings/ Disclaimers: NSFW, 18+, group sex, language, fiction [this is only intended to be fantasy], porn without plot**

We have a routine down. They stop by my apartment Friday night, fuck me, we eat together, and then they leave. Repeat. No cuddles. No pillow talk. No strings attached. No bullshit. Just straight fucking. I would be lying through my teeth if I said I didn’t develop feelings somewhere along the way for each and every one of them, but I’ll take that to my grave.

It wasn’t always like this.

It first started off with just Tenoch and I. We met one another through a drunk threesome one night after a friend’s birthday party. We instantly clicked and he quickly learned how to turn me on. The man could make me cum round after round till I forgot my first and last name. He knew all the right buttons to push and he got me hooked on him quickly. His dick game drove me insane and I hated that it admittedly elevated my standards for any man who was blessed to be entangled in my sheets. We became a casual “friends with benefits” type of a situation until one day he wanted to spice things up between us.

“Have you ever had sex with more than one guy at the same time?” He asks me out of the blue while we chill at a nearby cafe.

To my surprise, he wanted to add more guys to the mix. I wasn’t opposed to the idea but was honestly a little concerned at first.

“I want to watch other guys fuck you while I take part. That would be so fucking hot, you know? And I promise you would be safe, no funny business. I know these guys. They’re good guys, trust me. What do you think?”

Call me a whore. Lonely. Bored. A pick me. A girl with daddy issues. Some twenty-something big tit wide-eyed naive bitch finding intimacy in all the wrong places. Whatever. I could care less. I don’t need the judgement from my girlfriends, friends, family, or coworkers and I sure as hell don’t need it from you. The only thing that was running through my mind in that very moment was having an adventure and so I kept our little arrangement to myself. No one has to know.

I sipped my drink watching him over the rim of my cup. He met my gaze with those curious eyes of his like he was trying to read my mind. I looked down and smirked, finally swallowing.

“I’m in.”

*bzzzzz*

Like clockwork, Tenoch always came by my apartment first. I opened the door to the sight of this goober holding a pack of beers and striking a funny pose with damp curls. He must of showered before heading over because he smelled heavenly.

“Hey beautiful.” He kissed my forehead then waltzed right in, draping his stuff over a nearby chair.

We made small talk about his shit boss and how she underpays her staff. “And now she’s doing layoffs!” In this economy?? I crack open a couple of beers for us and hear the doorbell ring. “Tenoch, can you get that?” Diego and Oscar are here. Funny enough, they live in another apartment complex only a couple of streets down. What are the odds, right? Shockingly it’s not weird, but hopefully it stays that way.

Tenoch throws a movie on while I pop open a bag of chips Oscar brought over. Gael swings by next and as always, without fail, Pedro comes last. Hours later, I might add!

“Sorry for the delay guys, I had an emergency come up.”

We all boo him in unison while Tenoch throws a cheeto at his head.

“I don’t deserve this abuse! I promise I have a good excuse this time.” Pedro chuckles, dodging another chip successfully.

Yeah don’t feel bad for him. This fucker always has an “emergency”. He couldn’t be on time if his actual life depended on it.

“Blah blah blah. Just hurry up and sit down. You’re interrupting an important part of the movie dipshit. Mulan is meeting Mushu.” Oscar excitedly motions him over to the couch like we all haven’t seen this masterpiece 50+ times already.

I giggle and look around at everyone enjoying themselves. I have a lot of fun with them. I mean outside of our little scheduled orgy we got going on, I truly enjoy their companionship. I know they have my back and I have theirs. I wouldn’t dare be sappy and say this out loud but I love these guys and would do anything for them.

What’s wild to me is even though we have made this a routine by now, they still get shy around me before we start. No one wants to make me feel uncomfortable and I appreciate that more than they’ll ever know, but someone has to have the balls to make the first move. Thankfully, Diego does. He starts to massage the back of my neck while we all laugh at Mushu screaming “dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!” He looks over at me and notices me purr in approval. While his hand works out the kinks in my neck, he leans in and sensually kisses the side of my neck licking all the way up to my earlobe, catching it in between his teeth. He whispers sweet nothings in my ear about how gorgeous I am and how he can satisfy me better than any of these so called “men” here. I know it’s all for the fantasy factor but fuck does it turn me on. Only I can hear his ramblings and that gets me even hotter. He invades my personal space and breathes me in deep. I tilt my head and expose my throat to him like a cat on it’s back surrendering. Mark me, Diego. I start to squirm in my seat. I can feel my wetness already pooling in my panties.

My whimpers play over the movie and Oscar proceeds to join in on the fun. He directs my attention towards him and softly cups my cheek before going in for a blistering kiss. I close my eyes and let him lick into my mouth greedily. I surrender to his demanding touch while Diego starts to leave a trail of hickeys from my neck down to my clavicle.

Gael gets up from the other side of the couch and kneels down in front of me. He carefully unties my shoes and slips off my socks. He starts to caress my legs and massage my feet, looking up at me with heat behind his eyes. I watch his eyes shift to peek underneath my skirt. I’m trying to get friction to my clit by grinding my thighs together but Gael holds my legs in place with a strong grip. He then slides his hands slowly up my thighs till he gets to his destination. He hooks his finger over the top of my lingerie and brings them down one inch at a time, leaving a trail of hot kisses along the way.

I shutter as the air immediately exposes my wetness, revealing my sweet arousal. Gael finally slips my panties off and takes in its dampness. Oscar distracts me by gliding his hand over my breasts till he settles on my neck, roughly gripping my throat while he licks up into my ear.

I yelp.

“Be gentle.” Tenoch possessively asserts while he comes over and starts to pull his shirt over his head, exposing his happy trail and tattoo.

“Calm down. I’m only doing what the slut likes.” Oscar counters, looking over at Tenoch with a challenging stare before directing his sexual frustration back to me.

“Isn’t that right, baby? I want to hear you beg for Daddy.” He taunts while I make eye contact with him through submissive eyes. I’m thoroughly turned on right now and he knows it. Oscar’s tight grip on my neck is sending me over the edge and I want more. I need more. His authority is sending waves of pleasure through out my entire body and my hair raises on my arms. My pierced nipples start to harden and peak through my shirt and a wave of desire goes straight to my cunt.

Diego ceases to kiss my shoulder and looks down at my pebbled flesh.

“Well, would you look at that. Our brat likes to be choked.”

Diego goes to undress my top half and unclasps my bra with a swiftness. My breasts spill out of their cups one by one and he fondles one nipple as he laps up the other in his mouth eagerly. My breath hitches. I bite my lip, holding in a strangled noise.

Pedro moves over to my line of vision and begins to unbotton his pants in front of me, giving me a show. He starts touching himself as we lock eyes and creates a mess in his jeans. He whips out his exuding member and I shamelessly stare, taking in all of its glory. He watches me watch him and delights in the attention. This fucker.

“You like what you see, sweetheart? It’s all yours, just be a good girl and open your mouth wide for me.”

I love it when he calls me his good girl and tells me what to do. He doesn’t repeat himself twice. Ever. Whatever Pedro wants, Pedro gets. I pay the consequence if I misbehave. But God, do I love misbehaving.

I don’t budge one inch and go to kiss Oscar, dismissing Pedro’s very existence. That sets him off. Mission accomplished.

“Alright, play times over Princess.” he snarls.

Pedro yanks me away from Diego and Oscar by my hair and forces me forward to the edge of the couch, bringing me at eye level with his hardened cock. He holds my head firm in place as he steadily rubs his throbbing wood over my lips, painting them with his pre-cum. His breath goes ragged and his composure quickly diminishes. He wants this badly, but so do I. Pedro shoves his dick past my lips to the back of my throat without warning and I can see his pupils blow from his dominance over me. He tastes like sea salt and musk. I bring my hands up to grip his shaft and brace myself on his waist, sliding back and forth. He’s rough with me and forces me all the way down till my nose touches his pubes. I gag and my eyes starts to water. He finally releases his grip on me, and I exhale and spit on his dick. I go in for seconds and savor the taste, licking circles around his sensitive tip.

“Ah, just like that.” He affirms, letting his head fall back.

Everyone moves to claim a piece of my flesh to grab, squeeze, suck or fuck. I aspire to be their personal fuck toy to use and abuse for their own selfish gain. Is that too much to ask for?

Oscar repositions me on the couch so that I’m flat on my back as I resume sucking Pedro off. He pushes my skirt up out of the way and coats his fingers with saliva. He begins to slick up my folds, steadily working his way into my tight entrance. “Look at you.” He coos. He kneels down and without hesitation shoves his face into my juices and begins to devour me whole. He licks a line from my tight asshole to my sopping pussy lips and engulfs my clit with his large tongue. He hums around it, sending a wave of vibration to my core.

I loudly moan with Pedro’s penis down my throat, generating a low growl from him. I take him out of my mouth and start to plead as Oscar relentlessly works my sensitive clit with no sign of letting up. He sets my body aflame with little to no effort and it’s truly diabolical.

Tenoch comes to my side and begins to gently massage my breasts, bending down and taking one nipple in his mouth while he jerks himself off. Oscar prys my legs open to stop me from squirming. The overwhelming sensation of his scruff on my bundle of nerves is killing me and the mix of pain and pleasure is intoxicating. Gael grabs my calf and begins to suck my toes, one by one while touching himself. He closes his eyes and takes his time savoring them greedily. He sucks and sucks like he’s making love to them and perverted noises start to fill up the room. My body riddles with ecstasy and the heat in my lower belly grows.

Diego squeezes some lube on his hand and continues to jerk himself off while watching this provocative scene unfold in front of him. He comes over to my side and replaces his hand with mine on his leaking erection. I slowly jerk him off while not breaking eye contact with him.

I can feel my arousal taking over. My brain is having trouble functioning and focusing on one particular thing at once. I am incoherent. I know I definitely heard my phone go off three separate times by now. Mulan is already beating Shan Yu’s ass on the roof. My AC unit turned off about an hour ago and it’s hot as shit in here. But none of these distractions matter to me right now. My ears tune into the sweet symphony of their joint moans and hisses, while I witness their hungry eyes fixate on me, mouths slightly parted in a fucked out bliss. The air is thick with sweat, sex and sin.

I come to and feel Oscar between my legs as I jerk Diego off with purpose while Pedro tilts my head towards him and fucks into my mouth, panting with each thrust. I create a tight vacuum, swallowing him with intense suction that my lips create a *pop* sound when I let go. He curses under his breath in satisfaction.

Tenoch breaks things up and takes control. He grabs hold of me and tears me away from everyone’s touch. He picks me up with one arm and lays back on the couch’s sweaty surface before positioning me on top of him. I straddle his waist and lean down for a kiss, exchanging fluids in a raunchy french kiss. He matches my energy and sucks on my tongue. Fuck, he’s such a freak. We continue to make out as he reaches over my ass and rubs my entrance in a circular motion, slowly dragging his thick digits along my folds. Tenoch replaces his fingers with his slick dick and coats his penis in my juices before tapping himself on my clit. Oscar prepared me for the taking and Tenoch is about to have his way with me. His thick cock promptly slides right into my walls and we moan in each other’s mouths. I’m convinced my vagina was made to please him. I try and adjust to his thickness, slowly making room for his size. My greedy cunt eventually swallows him whole. He gasps in approval. I dig my nails into his big chest as I begin to ride him, throwing my head back. Oscar promptly grabs my neck from behind and whispers nasty shit in my ear while I take Tenoch’s cock like a good girl. Tenoch holds onto my waist with a bruising grip, displaying his possessiveness over me. He sits up on one elbow and sucks my sensitive nipples, playing with my piercing with his tongue in a circle motion. My cunt flutters around him, making him buck.

Goosebumps break out all over my skin as a chill runs down my spine. I whine loudly, succumbing to my pleasure in waves. The sounds of Tenoch’s dick slamming into my tight hole as my ass cheeks hit his pelvis is delicious and it makes me wetter each thrust. He’s giving it to me so good right now but Oscar decides to test how much I can truly take at once.

He cups my ass and halts my bouncing. Tenoch’s member slowly slides out. He grabs my cheeks and spreads me wide, admiring the stretch of my asshole and vagina with his tight grip. Oscar leans in and dips his tongue in and out of both holes, indulging in my natural taste. He pulls back and spits on my tight asshole. He sucks his thumb first before bringing his slick finger to my hole, spreading his spit in a circular motion. Oscar deepens the pressure until his thumb successfully slides in.

A raspy moan leaves my lips and I cry out.

“Mmmm I know baby, I know. Daddy knows what to do.“ He confidently mutters between pants. He’s so turned on right now.

He spits on his pointer and middle finger next, slipping in two digits and stretching me out. His calculated process is driving me crazy and my thighs tremble around Tenoch’s waist. I gasp and stop sucking and jerking off Pedro and Diego, focusing on my breathing.

“Don’t be greedy Oscar, there’s enough of her to go around.” Tenoch gripes, assisting in spreading my cheeks to give Oscar better access. I whimper in anticipation.

Oscar continues to work open my hole with a squirt of lube, fucking me with his fingers until he deems I’m ready for his thick shaft. I grow impatient.

“Ah…f-fuck me Oscar, please. I need you!”

Pedro starts to laugh.

“Stop playing with your food Oscar. The lady is getting tired of you.”

“I thought you like when Daddy plays with you, baby.” Oscar taunts before spontaneously slapping both of my ass cheeks one by one, again and again and again. Left. Right. Left. Right. He spanks me so hard that the pain becomes unbearable. Tenoch proceeds to choke me, holding my neck in place. I scream but no sound comes out. My voice is hoarse from sucking and fucking. Gael ducks down and starts to suck on my nipple while twisting the other between two fingers, playing with its jewelry.

Once he deems me ready, Oscar takes his throbbing wood in hand and aligns his coated head with my stretched hole. He grabs some lube one last time, lathers me up and slides in. He takes his time to make sure he doesn’t hurt me but I want it now. He relishes in my tightness and cusses under his breath. Tenoch licks his fingers and lubricates my pussy with his saliva before re-entering me. My eyes roll back with the overstimulation of being filled to the brim. They start to move together in unison and I resume bouncing on both Tenoch’s and Oscar’s dicks together. Oscar looks down, watching himself go in and out of my ass, cheeks bouncing back on his pelvis and jiggling. He bites his lip from the glorious sight.

“Fuck y-your so tight…ah-“ They both rant together.

Sounds of skin slapping skin echo throughout my entire apartment and Oscar steadily grips my shoulder while Tenoch grabs my waist. I feel like I am being split in two as my holes stretch and adjust to being double penetrated. A bitch is on cloud nine and I can barely string two sentences together. They are deep in my guts and I think I’m going to black out from the overwhelming sensation. This is a ride I never want to get off of. Tenoch picks up the pace and fucks up into me with no mercy while Oscar follows suit. He looks determined, sweat dripping down his forehead. Tenoch gawks at my bouncing breasts in his face, matching the fast pace. He reaches down and thumbs my clit.

My orgasm is on the rise and I can feel my climax is near.

“Daddy, I’m….I’m close!” I moan.

Gael lets go of my breast and runs to grab my vibrator from my bedroom. He turns it to the setting I like and places it close to Tenoch’s groan so that it’s touching my clit at the right angle. He looks up at me as my mouth falls open. I’m slowly becoming undone and can’t hold on any longer.

Diego makes the split decision to get up on the couch and position himself in line to face fuck me. He holds my hair as I bounce and proceeds to have his way with me. I moan around his dick as spit pools and drips down my chin. Pedro leans down and fondles a breast while biting one nipple just the way I like it.

It was truly a sight to see. A real group effort. The one group project where everybody wins. My question is why didn’t we think to film any of this and post it to porn sites world wide or only fans and make millions?? You should have seen us! We fucked like real professionals. I could see it now: “Sexy whore takes 5 big cocks like a champ” as the title. Hmmm. Now that I think about it, we would have probably ran into some copyright issues with Mulan playing in the background. The “A girl worth fighting for” song blasting at full volume was a nice touch though.

I feel myself choking on his penis and Diego reminds me to breath through my nostrils as he shoves my head forward. He yanks me off of his dick to give me a second to breath and a string of saliva connects from my lips to his tip. He slaps me a bit and roughly grabs my cheeks. Diego leans in for a sloppy kiss and purrs “that’s my fucking slut.” He’s genuinely proud of me.

“Now suck!” He demands and plunges back into my mouth without any hesitation. He’s pumping me so fucking good while his thrusts start to become sporadic and his breath goes ragged. I know he’s close. He slips his throbbing dick out of my mouth and readjusts so that I give his neglected balls some lovin. He bites his lip in approval.

“I’m cumming…I’m cu-“ Tenoch goes silent as he spills his hot seed deep into my swollen pussy. My vagina pulses around him as I feel him paint my walls. I shake involuntarily as he comes down off of his high. His dick slides out of me and goes limp, while his seed leaks down my thigh. He lays there catching his breath as everyone continues to use me for their own satisfaction. He watches me bounce on top of him as Oscar continues to pound me from behind.

I quickly follow suit and climax hard, squirting all over Tenoch with Oscar deep in my ass, Pedro sucking my nipple rings hard, Gael rubbing my clit with my vibrator on high and Diego stuffing his balls in my mouth.

Everyone let’s go of me for a second as I buckle and grip Tenoch’s chest before completely collapsing on top of him. All of my energy leaves my body. He catches me in his arms and caresses my back, making sure I’m okay. He kisses my forehead and I feel his chest rise and fall.

Once my breath evens out, I look up and see everyone staring at me with concern. The Mulan end credits continue to roll on the TV. I sheepishly look around and immediately get shy in front of them for the first time.

“So…..round two?”

- - - - - - - - x x x - - - - - - - -

[spreadjoys]

Maximizing Profits: The Essentials of Online Trading Investment in 2024

The financial markets are a dynamic landscape, and 2024 presents exciting opportunities for savvy online traders and investors. While there's no guaranteed path to riches, equipping yourself with the right knowledge and strategies can significantly increase your chances of success. Explore the fundamentals of online trading investment in 2024 with this blog post.

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Developing Your Strategy: A Roadmap to Success

There's no singular path that guarantees success in the online trading labyrinth. However, here are some essential strategies to consider as you navigate:

Accept Diversification: Don't put all your eggs in one basket. To reduce risk and possibly take advantage of opportunities in various market conditions, spread your investments throughout numerous industry sectors and asset classes. Imagine a treasure hunter not focusing solely on gold but diversifying their search to include other valuable resources.

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Risk Management is Key: Develop a robust risk management strategy to protect your capital. Utilize stop-loss orders to limit potential losses, similar to setting boundaries to avoid venturing into high-risk areas. Keep in mind that you should never invest more than you can lose, just like any wise explorer wouldn't risk their entire expedition on a single venture.

Emerging Trends and Opportunities

As we traverse through 2024, several key trends are likely to reshape the online trading landscape:

The Rise of Fintech: Technological advancements continue to revolutionize the financial industry. Fintech solutions like automated trading tools and robot-advisors are becoming increasingly accessible, offering new ways to participate in the market. Consider them innovative tools that can aid you in your financial exploration.

The Blockchain Revolution: New investment opportunities and a disruption of conventional financial services are possible with blockchain technology. Stay informed about the development and potential applications.

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

I work for a very conservative private health insurance in Europe. I'm pretty sure several people at the top would love if we couldn't insure trans people, or "discourage their patronage". Alas, their "corporate interests" are being trodden on by the... um... legislation that lets them operate in the first place. They could still be absolute transphobic dicks, but then there's lawsuits and public outrage and you have to spend money on advertising and, honestly, it's cheaper to accommodate gender dysphoria so you can ignore it than to run a decent ad campaign.

Most of us peons who check bills honestly don't care as long as you don't yell at us.

"Wrong gender" pops up occasionally. Either a trans person, an intersex person, or a pre-2014 feminist who found a lawyer willing to sue for gender discrimination. The computer rarely if ever flags it outright, because cis guys can need a gyno, and cis gals can need a uro. Hormones get trickier, but not by much.

I'm not gonna say we don't mess up. The first time it pops up, we definitely mess up. If we're filling in for someone, we might do so again.

But it's rare once we take action to prevent it.

How do we do that?

Digital sticky notes. A file gets flagged with a non-detrimental little message on top, the same one we use for "this person needs recreational drugs for medical reasons" or "mom not insured but does all the paperwork". Takes maybe 30 seconds. What's in the gender sticky note? No idea. There's no guidelines, so people freestyle.

Some people put "#5 IS TRANS". (Before all else, any person is a number in the system.) That one goes over a shocking number of heads. Same with ICD codes. That database takes ages to load. It could diagnose someone as the avatar to bring about world peace or someone capable of killing people with their thoughts--no one is checking that thing unless something is on fire.

If there's been no name change "#5 goes by James" is not only a very effective hint that a bill might look a wee bit odd, but also why a bunch of bills might get flagged with "person not insured in file", and prevent a bunch of misgendering and -naming on the phone. Even the transphobes don't want to get yelled at on the phone.

If there has been a change of name and/or gender marker, the gold standard is "#5: [gyn services] medically necessary". If someone whines that a diagnosis is missing, 1. they're a nosy fuck, official company policy is trusting your coworkers are competent, and 2. you add "see archive [date]" or an ICD code. Neither of which anyone will check. I cannot stress this enough: you could hide nuclear launch codes in there--no one can be bothered to look.

In 80-95% of cases, this system means fuckups are prevented. In 100% of cases of fuckups, this means a person calls or sends an email, we go "whoops", apologize, and fix it. This entire process, start to finish, takes 3-10 minutes, depending on how long the call takes.

We don't argue. We don't make someone provide another piece of evidence that they need this. We've got 10 years of medical history at your fingertips. Their doctor is eventually gonna snap and send 126 pages (conservative estimate) of painfully relevant literature if we keep that shit up. And if we don't check and process those 126 pages, an inspector is gonna, and ask why this was improperly documented. And that's before taking into account the minimal legal protections trans people have.

Even the most raging transphobe knows, passive-aggressively ruining a trans person's day is gonna bite you in the ass tenfold, and bureaucratically. They're still gonna resent trans people for it, but they're gonna choose the path of least resistance if they can.

Rather than "move to a blue state", I'd tell OP to sue for breach of contract. Your health insurance consistently refuses to pay out routine medical care for an organ that they know you have, the care of which they cover for all other people in similar health. Gender is a side note. Even it being Medicaid is a side note. They are being paid to do a job they're not doing.

tl;dr: in my professional opinion as a health insurance goblin, these people (or their superiors) are purposefully being dicks, to such a degree that they're choosing to make their own job harder. I fully endorse giving them more paperwork to deal with.

Tell me again how transmascs don't face our own fucking problems that we need to be able to talk about, but hang on for a minute, bc I'm on hold fighting with Medicaid over payment for a medically-necessary ultrasound because my "gender is wrong" for that procedure. You're gonna have to wait to tell me that again until I'm done fighting these pesky systemic issues that I surely don't actually have, according to y'all.

Fuck.

[freakygirlie]

New(ish) to J2 fandom, just spent the past god knows how many sleepless nights reading through Speak the Truth, trawling through spn_gossip and rewatching old cons and I👏am👏going👏in👏SANE👏

I considered myself a relatively reasonable person, but when it comes to J2, I have ZERO control. Tinhatting aside, their obvious love for one another makes me want to put myself in a grave.

As an old hat, some questions for you..

1. when did you first fall for the boys and what made you start tinhatting?

2. what the hell is it about them that drives us (j2 fandom) SO insane? (why the hell do I care whether two random people are/are not *really* in love?)

3. any coping mechanisms to deal with this obsession?

hi anon honestly what a wonderful ask <33333 this is gonna be a long one so buckle up !!

WE ARE ALL INSANE LET ME TELL YOU THAT MUCH. ''sleepless nights going through tinhat stuff' BEEN THERE! DONE THAT! I am so in love with their love i have 0 control let me tell you that much. their love for each other TINHATTING ASIDEEEE makes me want to jump off a cliff it's so gorgeous it makes me insane all the time. i mean HOW CAN YOU NOT GO INSANE WHEN YOU SEE ALL THIS:

1. when did you first fall for the boys and what made you start tinhatting?

-when i first started watching supernatural, i was IN LOVE with sam and dean's relationship. it was JUST <3 and i obviously saw the insane and beautiful chemistry the actors had. my friend who got me hooked on the show, used to ramble on about how beautiful j2's friendship was and i was like mmhmm cool cool. i started watching con videos and i was just blown away by their friendship, the easiness they had and the obvious love and affection. i wasn't a tinhat and while i did go 👀👀👀 at many things(only con videos till now) i was like- PLSDJFJG i'm just projecting my wincest fantasies on them ffs. anyways moving on to me venturing into the tumblr world, long before i made an account, i was scrolling through the j2 tag and it was all cute pics vids and stories and i was all aww! when i came across a post(I AM BEGGING ANYONE WHO KNOWS IT LINK IT TO ME PLEASE I CANT FIND IT) which was of a convention clip i had already seen: (x) (starts at 9:15) and it was the SPNMINN 2018 J2 Gold Panel- Jared got a box of cupcakes from a fan and while eating one there was frosting all smeared on him and Jensen took some napkins and cleaned Jared's mouth IT'S THE CUTESTTT and while jen's cleaning up uk he makes those ''ugh'' sounds, grumpy jensen <3333333 but still taking care of his boy <333333

the post was captioned if i remember correctly: ''his mouth is saying ugh but his eyes are saying oh'' (bc jared 's mouth was all shiny and pretty so ehem ;)) AND I JUST FROZE FOR A MINUTE. It took a minute for me to process it but when it finally loaded i was like W H A T. WHAT IN ALL OF ??????? IS THE OP IMPLYING- (be known that i knew the j's were married and had kids so anyone implying or saying that they were romantically involved was like ''are u crazy'' for me, pls i was so naive, also it was the first time i was so blatantly exposed to it, anyways) i was like shooketh. and then i looked at the tags and it was your average: ''jared padalecki'' ''jensen ackles'' and then ''j2 tinhat''. and i was ??? what the hell is a tinhat ???? ehem you can be sure that i clicked on it, it loaded AND THE FIRST POST THAT JUMPED OUT AT ME was this gif of Jared STROKING jensen's neck and the hairs at the back of it and I WAS WTFHJDJHFJFKFJ. ?????????????? THE HELL IS THIS ????????????????????

anyways i spent the entire NIGHT SCROLLING THRU THE TAG and my entire world like everything i knew was just flipped and scrambled and i was just ohmygod what the fuck and i found out there was a whole community of j2 tinhats who believed j2 were involved and the marriages were to cover it up and let me be honest, i thought y'all were crazy. i was like nope nope these are just people with too much time on their hands and too much of an overactive imagination. LIKE NO THERE'S NO WAY-

i spent so long being a fencesitter, scrolling, researching, trudging my way thru spn_g, all the blogs(and i learnt to keep an open mind that's very imp!) but i was still in denial. it was right in front of me BUT STILLLLL. and then. the thing that convinced me wasn't an elaborate theory, a slip up or anything like that. it was a tiny simple collection of gifs of j2 secretly touching each other's hands. and the gif that convinced me was:

it was 3 or 4 am in the morning and i was yet again scrolling through as much tinhattery stuff as i could and i came across it and i was just: ohmygod. they're together. OHMYGOD. THEY'RE IN LOVE. the- they are actually- ohmygod. LIKE JENSEN IS FONDLY CARESSING JARED'S FINGERS HE DELIBERATELY SEEKED THEM OUT WHILE HIS HAND WAS ON THE FAN AND JARED'S NOT EVEN STARTLED HE ALLOWS IT LIKE GOD ???? like idc how bro-y and bestfriendism you are- FRIENDS DON'T DO THAT. PLATONIC BUDDIES DON'T SEEK OUT YOUR HAND LIKE THIS AND CARESS THE FINGERS OF SAID HAND, SMILE ALL LOVE-SICK LIKE AND CURL THEIR FINGERS UNDER YOUR TOUCH AND THEN GO BACK AND DO THE SAME THING ALL OVER AGAIN LIKE SOME SMITTEN HUSBAND OKAY. AND IN SECRET TOO LIKE-

i was like again FLOORED but like seeing THAT just flipped me completely and it slammed into me like a car(and i've been hit by a car irl so I KNOW). i fell so deep into the tinhat hole and after that everything else just made sense. their actions that didn't match up with their stories, the slip-ups, the weirdness(look when i was a non-tinhat, i wasn't an overly eager het stan or whatever but i was so done with jared and gen repeating the same things over and over again and jensen and danneel's interactions were ehem with all due respect boring.) and THEM J2 THEIR LOVE THEIR INTERACTIONS THE LOOKS THE EVERYTHING !!!!! i've been a tinhat since and while i've had my doubts here and there i've never taken my hat off <3

2. what the hell is it about them that drives us (j2 fandom) SO insane? (why the hell do I care whether two random people are/are not *really* in love?)

-it's them anon *shrugs and cries a little*. them, their love for each other is so out of this world. they've sacrificed so much to be together, they love each other so deeply and are such an integral part of each other's lives and god they fit so fucking well ??? they connected the moment they met and they are each other's other halves!! it's something out of a movie or some shit like godddddd. they drive us insane by just being THEM !!! separately even i have never seen two better men who try so hard to be good, who give us their all and let themselves loose, who love so beautifully. and together they're perfect. their love story is one for the ages and i admire it and cherish it so much. they struggle with it all yet love each other so much and it's not like it's even subtle it's out their for EVERYONE TO SEE. The way they talk about each other, the way they look after each other, the little glimpses we see into them and their relationship. it's something that's so beyond our understanding, it's on a plane of it's own. j2 are WHY i believe so wholly in true love <33 ''why the hell do we care'' that kind of dedication the one they show us and the kind of love they send us, it creates a bond, fans, admirers, and people who are willing to stick with you no matter what. i look up to them so much, they are such a comfort to me and i love love love their relationship. they drive us so insane and how could they not!

there's 15003878398449 moments i could talk about but god i'm just so fucking insane for them and the love they share, we all are !!! and also think about it where did sam and dean get their insane-ness from ??? <333

(x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) - linking to a few <333(ok more than a few)

<3

they're soulmates ❤️

3. any coping mechanisms to deal with this obsession? -believe me anon if i knew, i would tell you.

[korkrunchcereal]

WoW Q and A

Elaborate on the Chains of Domination cinematic: Story of Anduin and Sylvanas/relationship with the jailer is foundational to Shadowlands. Anduin was dominated. Jailer needed someone like Anduin to be able to walk into Bastion and claim the key. Brief moment of Anduin gaining control in cinematic, so still in there. Chains of Domination will explain more.

When he (Anduin) walks past Uther, did Uther know what was happening or did he feel bad? Couple things going on. His hand touches his wound, made by a weapon of the maw. Uther recognized on some level that power, as well as stirring memories seeing this blonde, kingly figure. Confrontation with Sylvanas in the raid one of the biggest moments in WoW.

Moving from classic to BC while keeping a copy. Whats it going to look like for gold, items/banks. Am I going to see differences or is it two separate entities for all time? Logging in at pre patch will snap a copy of your character. There will be an option to move onto BC classic, or stay in vanilla classic. Can pay a fee and activate “clone” to put them on BC classic if you choose to stay Vanilla. Beta is around the corner. 

How will high population  numbers be handled in TBC classic? How will you handle bottlenecks, sharding, dailies etc. Recognize high population, want to make sure experience is enjoyable. Optimization improvements to help stabilize servers. Experience of rare material and multiple people going is part of the game. Willing to make targeted changes if there is particular problems. 

 Will there be more race/class combinations? Player agency and choice is major theme. Customization key, but also want to reinforce differences. Want to maintain a world that doesn’t have exact symmetry. Have gone back over the years to change things. For now, think they’ve gone about far enough. Nothing planned, but never say never.

 Surprise on Covenant armor? Based on heritage armor. Pure aesthetic, want to give players more and more options. Gameplay reasons to not tmog the entire range (warrior wearing cloth for example)

Workflow change during pandemic? Happened very suddenly. Team reached to each other to find comfort. The isolation found purpose for devs. Making Shadowlands/games help to reconnect friends and people.

Any plans to address faction imbalance? What happened to cause it? Something talked about a lot. Know there’s a very real problem, particularly high end. What caused the problem? Imbalanced in racials allowed to persist too long. At this point, don’t think racials are imbalanced. People staying Horde however due to social reasons now; compounded issue from all the way back from MoP etc. No real answer. Social issue requires social answer.

Have you ever seen a swing in either faction direction due to story elements? Across the game as a whole, faction balance is pretty good. Its raiding/high end PvE that the imbalances really emerge. Have seen faction switches/more cross faction alts in BfA for example. 

If I play BC, when I decide to play on main char and a classic era realm at 60, will I have to name change? You have your name in both places. Ensure people don’t park on names forever.

Any plans to connect more realms? Had to do survey across all populations in all realms. Essentially have to copy an entire realms database onto another. Not a flip a switch thing, lot of work. Have been able to address a large amount of the very low pop. realms. Had to pause for Shadowlands launch due to launch and Shadowlands had huge effects on server populations. Last time they connected realms was right before WoD, and realms had a LOT of queue problems. Watching and waiting for populations to go down before making the jump.

Never gonna have cross faction raids, dungeons etc? Not gonna say never. Essential to hold onto identity but...

Will our amount of Anima be increased later? Is it possible for sanctum upgrades to be account wide? Lot to collect. Hotfixed Anima drops so far. Looking for new sources of Anima for next patch. Over all looking at the costs. Cosmetics are generally account wide. Anima is designed to span the bulk of Shadowlands. 

Sire Denathrius is an eternal one and imprisoned. What will he do? Will we see him again? Best laid plans can adapt. During BfA, intended Bwonsamdi to be a one off. There, but no big deal. Once they heard the VA they went “we need more of this character”. Planned for Sire Denathrius to be there, you kill him w/e. Then heard the VA and went “this guys awesome we love him.” Changed plan to keep Sire Denathrius alive. Will find some other role for him to take. Watch fan feedback to see how community responds/gravitate to. He is in that sword, there may just be allies of him that would be interested in liberating him from the sword...

When will we see more Heritage Armor? As each one was released, got more and more excited from response/enhanced feel of the game. Working on further Heritage Armor. Some coming to near future updates, some more in the future.

Any plans to bring back the AH app? Not as you know it perse. It got turned into a lot of automation. Revamp removed app, then change of the AH. Meant to be more of a socialize thing then accumulation of gold by automated system. Recognize however convenience factor. Consider getting back into some form, but not like how it used to be.

Will there be more new character customization options for Shadowlands? None in Shadowlands. Tend to be fairly big projects. Release them when it’ll be very good for players. Lot of work to juggle. Felt like they got good feedback and support from it. Want to invest going forward when it makes sense.

What are actual requirements for flying in Shadowlands? Where can we fly? Can we fly across the realms? Shadowlands pathfinder no rep grind. Just requires completing full covenant campaign (9.0 and 9.1). Cannot fly from zone to zone. Once unlocked, alts will be able to fly freely. 

In the BC classic, will there be class tuning that would make it notably different than 2007? Broadly no. Want to keep the authentic behavior of final patch, like classic had. Seal of blood

Is there work being done on new Torghast Anima Powers for later patches? Spec specific, when can we see? WIll be done through all patches/future patches. new powers etc. As for powers working outside Torghast, keep OP nature of them inside Torghast.

Difference between passage of time in Shadowlands and in Azeroth? Salanar the Horseman in DK order hall said he was in the veil for what felt like days and it was between WoTLK and Legion. Meet characters for whom time doesn’t seem to have meaning. What is time a construct of? Order. On Azeroth, understand the passage of time because of influence of titans/order. Outside of the influence of order, time loses meaning. A lot more fluid. Shadowlands about eternities. Can have it perceived differently by different characters even going through same thing.

Bringing back 10-man content, either as different difficulty or different instances for smaller groups to tackle. All raid basically is/can be 10 man. These days its the 5 player mega dungeons that fill the role. In BC, ZA and Kara filled that niche of the smaller group doing the BIG, raid like content. Fulfills the spirit of 10 man content.

Will summoning stones be available at launch of BC or come later? Will have them at launch.

What’s Bolvar up to and where is his story going? Will he have a major role to play? One of the fun parts of Shadowlands was getting Bolvar back into the mix. We saw him be pivotal in Torghast and getting into Shadowlands. Saw there was a price to pay for visions with Torghast. He will be front and center in Chains of Domination. Good rallying figure.  

In BC, how will pvp titles be handled without battlegroups? Originally, reward was made for the best player in each battlegroup due to technical reasons. Now that they have better technology, fair way is % based, though still want to keep it small amount. 

In Stormwind, Darnassus refugees mention going back once the smoke clears. Does this mean Teldrassil can grow back and become habitable again? The damage was pretty definitive/lot of lives lost. Don’t want to reverse on a whim. The story of the souls of the Night Elves however is not yet done, nor is Tyrande’s story going into Chains of Domination and beyond.

Will fresh classic servers be added in addition to TBC servers? For the timeline of BC classic, no new classic servers. Eyes on it however for the future. Will discuss once BC launches.

How do you get the Wandering Ancient Mount? Got to have Shadowlands. Will be in 9.0.5 patch update next month (March). 

[giasonesdream]

nouveau riche non accueilli (E)

Pairing: Lee Minho (Lee Know) x fem!Reader

Characters: Lee Minho, Han Jisung, Yang Jeongin, Bang Chan (mentioned), Hwang Hyunjin (mentioned)

Summary: Nearly a year ago, Lee Minho signed his soul over to a demon in order to gain wealth through his writing. Shortly after, you come along, the half-demon half-human sent to watch him, make sure he doesn’t break the contract early. The newly famous author is invited to a masquerade ball, and you’re the only person he could possibly ask to accompany him.

Excerpt: “Pretty sure Old Money vs New Money is one of those universal issues.” He takes the mask from your grasp, tossing both back onto the bed before grabbing the black velvet tie that had been laid out with the rest of his suit. 

“But you’re not New Money.” You slide in front of the mirror, obstructing his view when he turns back around. Nevertheless, he still tries to see around you. Slithering further into his personal space, you can smell his body wash. It’s not the typical woody scent that men tend to go for, but it still smells sinful, like something that could make anyone fall over themselves. But you’re sure Minho had that effect on people even before…

“You’re Blood Money,” you hiss sinisterly. “Demon Money. You sold your soul for this life, this penthouse suite, the opportunity to dine with South Korea’s most famous clans.”

Warnings: oral sex, mirror sex (ish)...think minho curses, like, once in the entire fic

Word Count: 6.858k (too fucking long)

“I like this mask more,” you state simply, holding up the intricate black mask, ornate with gold designs etched into the plastic. Holding it close to Minho’s solemn expression, you smile. “Wanna make sure we can see those delicious lips.”

He rolls his eyes, and you watch in satisfaction as those lips part to take in and exhale a heavy sigh; exasperate, no doubt. 

You remember where you were when Minho had received his invitation to The Han Clan’s Masquerade Ball. Your favourite tub sat stand-alone in the en-suite of the second master bedroom. While the master bedroom you normally shared with Minho had a wall of windows to overlook Gangnam, this bathroom had a window big enough for you to see the passing traffic on busy Korean highways. At night, the red brake lights and warm headlights were entrancing. So that’s where you were, soaking in warm bubbles with soothing scents of apple ginger, when Minho knocked calmly on the half opened door.

He moved slowly, like he was afraid one wrong move could scare you away...or make you lash out (in the 9 months of your relationship with the man, it was still hard to tell). With his eyes trained on yours, he lowered himself until he sat on the marble floor right outside the tub. The small candles lining the rim performed a beautiful dance with the reflections on his face, licking across his nose, caressing up his cheeks, sliding across his lips. You were so weak for his lips.

You only realized belatedly, as he hesitated with the card clenched in his fingers, that he must have had some news for you. With the amount of patience you could muster, you only managed to keep your eyes loud as you raised your brows, waiting for him to speak.

“I got invited to Han Jisung’s birthday party. A masquerade ball.” 

You didn’t entirely understand his tightness, nor did you want to divulge in what his worries must be. All you knew was that there’s probably an option for a Plus One, and there’s no one Minho could have possibly picked to go with him other than you.

So you smiled, baring teeth in a manner you learned to be kind, maybe even comforting. “That’s fantastic, honey! And are you, perhaps, in search of a date for this?”

Whatever thoughts troubled him seemed to ease away in that moment, just a little. You learned quickly that Minho liked your forwardness, found something attractive about how confident you could be in yourself and him. 

He smirked, blinking up under his lashes. “Do you want to accompany me, (Y/N), to this ball?”

You threw your head back dramatically, sliding further into the bath as one leg lifted from the clouds of bubbles. “Lee Minho! A man after my heart.”

That was a month ago, and the night had come. With the summer still fighting its way until autumn officially came, 7pm found you just enough light coming in through that wall of windows in your bedroom. You had emerged from the bathroom, freshly clean from your shower and pampering to find Minho with half his suit on, holding two different masks in his hands. You, being the gracious...whatever you were to this man, decided to help him make this seemingly tough decision. 

And all he could do was roll his eyes at you. Rude, much?

“I believe the correct response is, ‘Thank you, baby’.” You shake your head violently, waving in front of yourself. “No, wait, okay. Let’s try this again.” Clearing your throat, you hold up the mask again, as you did a moment prior. “I like this mask more. Wanna make sure we can see those-”

“(Y/N)...” groans an ill-tempered Minho. No, not ill-tempered. Anxious. He picks his next words carefully, surely knowing your expression is challenging of his short fuse. “How...how good is your French?”

Surprisingly enough, your first job was in France. But that guy hadn’t lasted more than 3 months before breaking the contract. Minho doesn’t need to know that, though. You shrug.

“C'est pas terrible,” you respond.

The man nods. “So, then, you know the term ‘nouveau riche’,” he assumes. 

You understand him quickly and begin to snicker in incredulity. “Do people really care about that here?”

“Pretty sure Old Money vs New Money is one of those universal issues.” He takes the mask from your grasp, tossing both back onto the bed before grabbing the black velvet tie that had been laid out with the rest of his suit. 

“But you’re not New Money.” You slide in front of the mirror, obstructing his view when he turns back around. Nevertheless, he still tries to see around you. Slithering further into his personal space, you can smell his body wash. It’s not the typical woody scent that men tend to go for, but it still smells sinful, like something that could make anyone fall over themselves. But you’re sure Minho had that effect on people even before…

“You’re Blood Money,” you hiss sinisterly. “Demon Money. You sold your soul for this life, this penthouse suite, the opportunity to dine with South Korea’s most famous clans.”

Instead of replying, the ash blond only gives you a pointed look, and you can hear your name without him even having to open his pretty mouth.

“What? I’m just saying, you’re not New Money. You’re in a league of your own.” 

“And you don’t have to remind me. Having a half-breed concubine is reminder enough.” He huffs in frustration after fussing with his tie. 

And clearly it shows a testament to your feelings for him, as his words sober you some. Truthfully, being a half-demon person working with Soul Contracts means trying to get the poor bastard that sold their soul in the first place to break said contract. You’re not even sure when you gave up actually trying to do so (perhaps it was when Minho bought this penthouse and you got to take a bath in that tub). Regardless, Lee Minho, and his desperate desire to be a nationally recognized and respected author, intrigued you. 

In the silence, you instinctively reached out, fixing his tie and making sure it looks as pristine as the rest of him. 

“Tch,” you scoff, mumbling under your breath. “Concubine. You think so little of me.” 

Maybe you’re aware of it, maybe not, but Minho catches when you hide your face, keeping your eyes focused on the way your fingers twist and pull at the velvet fabric. Very rarely do you get embarrassed or shy, and like hell would you ever admit to his words making you do so. Even if there’s little merit to your words, it’s unspoken, the way you guys can resolve conflicts.

He stands there quietly, watching over you in the mirror, staring at his reflection because even now, with almost a year with his new life, he still does not recognize himself. Sure, that is his face looking back at him, but the memories that associate with this body he is in seem like someone else’s, not his own. But selling your soul didn’t necessarily make you soulless...did it?

Satisfied with the perfection of the tie as it sits against his chest, you smile proudly.

“Thank you, baby,” Minho says in a hum, low in his throat. It’s a tempting tone to use, but you scrunch your nose.

“Yeah, yeah. I have to get ready, now.”

It’s another hour before you actually leave the apartment, unable to dress quickly when his fingers pulled languidly on the zipper of your dress, using any excuse to press himself to your back and skate his lips behind your ear. And he insisted on helping you with your jewelry, making sure the gold necklace sat perfectly, holding your hands with care as he slid rings over your digits. 

Granted, now that the car is nearing the party venue, you may have misjudged his teasing touches. For how he sits next to you in the backseat, unrhythmically punching the leather underneath him. It’s clear that he is willing to stall in any way, if it means not having to face the lion’s den.

And what a den, it was. Long ago you decided to never question the strings that rich people could pull. But this doesn’t stop your mind from going over the possible accounts that could excuse why one 20 year old man was able to close the National Museum of Korea. You were taken to the front of one of many buildings where the party was taking place. There were a line of cars, as people of importance stepped out and walked the pathway littered with random paparazzi and photo ops. 

In probably the best way you can think to soothe him in this moment, you reach for his fist, giving it a quick squeeze until his hand unfurled, and you were able to slide your hand into his grasp.

Your car was quick to approach the front, and the driver quickly came out to open the door for you. Luckily, Minho’s face was the first any reporter would see, as he was the distinguished guest. The planner greeted him kindly, following you as well once you finally stepped out. She directed you, telling you that you guys could just go through, “but walk slowly”. 

Minho’s grip on your waist was tight, and you dare a glance to see if his expression was as apprehensive as his touch felt. Fortunately, he had mastered this stern yet soft look. Approachable enough for people not to automatically reject his presence. 

The tread to the front door was quick, and you know this is where the real horror starts. 

The fact of the matter is that, even with Lee Minho’s name plastered on South Korea’s best selling novel of “fiction”, he still did not have the power that came with being a part of one of the few clans that make up The True Elite. And the question is if his newly obtained status would garner him disgust or apathy?

Once you go through the doors, you pull him to the side so that the both of you can adorn your masks, now that enough people have seen his face to know he’s here. 

“This is not about Old or New Money, now,” you say. “We’re all anonymous. So try to enjoy the night.”

He nods, exhaling out a final breath of stress before turning to face the crowd, holding out his arm for you to take.

The lobby is pure brilliance, the windows on the ceiling that normally act as skylight shows a dark, navy sky. The warm lights illuminate the room, accentuating the cool marble walls and clean lines of the interior design. With a sea of masked individuals, you feel like you were transported in time. So many rich fabrics in hues of crimson, violet, and shadowed black move in front of your eyes. And the glints of diamonds, rubies, pearls, shine like their own stars strewn across delicate skin. 

Then there is Lee Minho, who seems to stand out in your eyes (but you might be biased). His suit is a mix of black velvet and sleek wool. Just as you accented your simple black gown with gold jewelry, he has done the same. His brown hair of light cool tones is slicked back, away from his forehead. And, of course, there’s always his lips. Shaped down and full, pouty, innocent, the skin is soft and silky to the touch. They’re always so inviting when you allow yourself to stare for so long. Before you know it, you’re already turning to stand in front of him. He watches your movements then, eyes previously on the grandiose room, now following the upward curl of your mouth as you reach further-

“Mr. Lee,” a voice calls, greets from behind you. You turn back, and even with his mask on, you recognize this young man.

Yang Jeongin was the youngest member of the Yang Clan, and one of South Korea’s precious baby boys. He recently got his braces removed, but even still, his jaw is a very memorable shape, and his white mask forms comfortable to the width of his cheekbones and sparkling eyes. He had been very vocal in public media about enjoying Minho’s novel, and is certainly one of the reasons said novel was able to span over a wide, diverse audience. 

“Ah, Mr. Yang,” Minho goes to bow, but Jeongin is quick to stop him, worry in those glittering brown eyes beneath his mask. 

“Oh, no! Please! You’re older than me, Mr. Lee. You don’t have to bow. I have to say, when Jisung told me he’d invited you, I was so excited. I’m kind of shocked this is our first time meeting since you published My Deal With The Devil.”

Minho smiles shyly, biting at his lower lip. “Well, after the book ranked, my manager, here, was quick to book me for some scheduled events to promote the book all over the country.”

At the mention of you, Jeongin looks at you with a wide smile that you’ve only ever seen in magazines and on the television.

“Yes! (Y/N), right? You’ve been working hard for your author.” He bows, and you mirror the gesture with a smile of your own. 

“He’s been very easy to manage.”

“I can imagine. Would you allow me to be your chaperone for the evening?”

The question is enough to take you and Minho off guard as you both share a look before turning back. 

“Surely, it should be the other way around,” you reply. “Who’s looking after the nation’s child?”

With such an infectious laugh, you can’t help but grin. “Actually, a lot of the clans’ youngests are chaperoning tonight. So it would be my honour.”

Again, you and Minho exchange a glance, simultaneously shrugging before looking back at the young man. 

“Point me to the finger foods, Mr. Yang,” you express animatedly. As Jeongin holds his arm out, you give Minho’s a firm squeeze before letting go. He doesn’t follow as Jeongin takes you to the table across the room, which seems like a good sign.

Little do you know, though, is that before he can follow, he’s already being pulled into another conversation. 

The night flows rather smoothly, you being happy to walk around, weave in and out of the crowd and smile at those that return the sentiment. Down the darkened hallway, there are open rooms where there would normally be digital galleries. From the lobby, it’s easy to see the coloured light that illuminates from each. Jeongin had explained to you that the birthday boy had the idea of theming the masquerade as The Masque of The Red Death, a piece of American literature you remember reading in your younger years.

“Aptly themed,” you had responded wryly.

So now you look at these rooms, wondering if you should visit them alone, or if you should try to find your date and go with him. The red room calls to you, however, and you decide then, with your heels numbed from your red stilettos, that you would visit just this one. The room that supposedly met the king to his inevitable death. 

“Is it you, Lee Minho?”

Minho swallows the champagne he’d been sipping at the sound of his name, once again. He was not expecting to be recognized so easily, or to hear of so many eager of his presence. Maybe you had been right, to some extent, about Old and New Money not being an issue of the night. 

The man that spoke to him wears red from head to toe. Red mask with black and gold lace, a ruby stud in one ear and gold chain lining the other, red shiny suit with gold cufflinks, and a gold ring that Minho knows has been passed down through this clan for generations. Han Jisung.

“Yes! And is this the birthday boy?” He bows, showing respect. Much unlike Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung carries himself with pride, as he does carry his title. “Happy Birthday, Mr. Han.”

“Thank you, thank you. I hope you’re enjoying the party. Truthfully, your novel was quite inspiring. It reminded me of the short story Edgar Allen Poe wrote, The Masque of The Red Death. You ever read it?”

Minho nods excitedly. “Of course! If Poe manages to escape the clutches of any middle school, it’s certainly a crime.”

When Jisung grins, his teeth are white, perfect, intimidating. Even though he stands an inch or so shorter than Minho, his attitude is overwhelming and spans skyscrapers. 

“How has life been since you returned from your promotion schedule? Are you taking time before writing the next novel? What would it be about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Where could you have possibly been? Minho knows if you were here, you’d be the one answering these questions. And, really, it would be quite the show to see two prideful people as you and Jisung are in a heated discussion. 

“Ah,” Minho starts, trying to keep his tone even. Lions can smell fear. “Well, it won’t be an official continuation of My Deal With The Devil, but I’ve started writing about running-”

“Running?” Jisung tilts his head, lips forming in a pout along with what Minho is sure is confusion under his mask.

Your eyes do not take much time to adjust to the darkness of the hallway. The red lights had been encompassing, and your eyes could make out the waves of the light as they coated the walls. And the steady bass of the music playing coaxed up your legs, wrapping around your bare arms and shoulders, creeped up your neck like a hand ready to choke you. Is this what the humans would feel going into the red room? It wasn’t a haunting feeling, necessarily, but it did make you long to be around others again, to feel the light of laughter, to hold onto a familiar man and hear him groan in your ear.

You need to find Minho.

So you don’t let yourself embrace the spritely sounds of the people you walk past until you see the black and gold mask, the sputtering lips and hesitant smile. When you get into earshot, you hear him mention his novel, what he’s writing now.

“Running?” inquires the man in red.

“Excuse me, hello.” You interrupt slyly, immediately connecting yourself to Minho’s side in front of the man he speaks to. 

The man in red doesn’t seem offended by your unexpected presence. He smiles coolly, nodding in your direction.

“This is (Y/N),” Minho introduces, wrapping his arm around your waist. “She’s my manager. And the best person to discuss my future writings with, if I’m being honest.” Even if his words are even, you can feel his relief. “(Y/N), this is the man of the hour, Han Jisung.”

The light clicks, and you grin widely, gesturing in respect. “Prince Prospero himself. I hope you’re having a lovely birthday, Mr. Han.”

“Everyone is here beautifully, so yes, I am having a great night. I was just asking about Mr. Lee’s new story. The first work of fiction has left the country wanting to see his satiating words.”

“Since he’s still writing, the destination of where the next novel will end is really up in the air, at the moment.”

“Is there any possibility the manuscript could find its way over to Han’s Publishing House?”

Of course. Why hadn’t you seen this potentially coming before? The Han Clan has a variety of well-standing, successful industries taking inhabitants in Korea’s major cities. Han’s Publishing House was standing tall in the heart of Seoul, close to the Gold Towers that taunts civilians as well as give them hope. 

And as rising a success story as Lee Minho, of course the clan would have their eyes out for the pretty prize. 

You lick your lips, giving a calculated smile as your eyes pierce through your mask. “Unfortunately Lee Minho is signed with Bultaneun Peiji Publishing for the next four years. We’d mourn breaking such a contract so early, and it wouldn’t look good for Minho’s image.”

Jisung lifts his head slightly, letting you know he understands you. “Bang Clan’s publishing company, right. I don’t wish to speak ill of them. I have personally worked with the heir of Bang’s Clan, Chan. But given they’re a smaller company, it could be quite limiting.”

“On the contrary,” you start. “Since Bang’s heir was raised in Australia, it gives Minho the option to become international. That is, if he wishes.” If your presence hadn’t been an insult initially, your saccharine tone is assuring that Jisung’s feelings changed. “Besides, since Minho is, as you know, a novice to the publishing industry, having a more intimate community will allow him to grow strong and sturdy, like our pine trees that remain vibrant even in the harshest of conditions.”

Jisung’s eyes dart between you and the author at your side. In his contemplative silence, he observes the thumb that mindlessly rubs at your waist. Something seems to come to a realization for the young heir as he smirks.

“You two make a rather unsuspecting yet powerful pair, I must say. Maybe the world should know your name, as well, (Y/N).”

“I don’t have much interest in the spotlight. I’m more than happy to help uplift our Minho, so that his words can be read and mulled over.” You’re not sure if Jisung expected his epiphany to throw you off guard, but it’s satisfying regardless.

“Well, when you’re ready,” Jisung says, directing his words to the quiet Minho. “The Han Publishing House will have an offer for you. Until then, I will anticipate the works you come out with. Excuse me.”

You and Minho bow as the heir makes his exit, walking into the mouth of the hungry sea of anonymous partiers. 

“Why was that so tense?” Minho utters, moving to stand in front of you, his hand moving accordingly.

“I’m sorry. I should have known he’d try to snatch you away. I’m sure that wasn’t the only reason he invited you, but if his surname is anything to go by, he’s an opportunist like his family.”

From then, you hardly leave Minho’s side, dancing with him as the melodies of the live band play, some instrumental pieces, music not too loud so as not to over power the conversation going on. When you come close to the darkened hallway again, Minho pulls you along, taking you through the seven rooms.

Despite not having read the story for many years, every room reminds you of the words that were described. There aren’t many guests in one room at a time, and the seclusion puts you in the mood of intimacy. By the time you walk into the orange room, your ears are sensitive, just as your skin. The warmth of Minho’s fingers running up your arm is titillating, and you long to rid the slight obstruction your mask provides so that you can witness the young author in the vibrance of the orange light. This room has some static, possibly alluding the rooms to come, but it only adds to the growing desire to make like the waves on his face and touch everything.

“Let’s skip the white room,” you suggest softly. 

The blond acquiesces without delay as you leave orange, going straight to violet. In the room of purple tones, the gold of his mask stands brilliantly, alluring with the complementary tones. Is it wrong to say this is where he belongs? 

The music that surrounds you is threatening in a low way, like watching a scary movie and anticipating the monster to take the protagonist (and audience) by surprise. Except, nothing is a surprise here. This is where Minho belongs, and his wandering eyes make you realize who the monster is. Of course, you are where you’re supposed to be, with him, in this room.

With the desire growing rampant, you finally grab his neck, guiding his face until your lips connect in a kiss. It starts off harsh and bruising, desperate. But he’s pliable, and opens so easily, encouraging your wanton yearnings. 

“Seriously, (Y/N),” Minho heaves when he can pull away. “Right now?”

He’s right. You know he’s right. You contemplate a teasing remark because you’re never one to consent quietly.

“Maybe it’s time for us to make our exit. Shall we say our goodbyes to Mr. Han?”

Minho smirks. “I should probably go by myself. You go find Jeongin and pay our respects for both of us.”

“Sounds like a plan, baby,” you agree menacingly. 

As you leave, you pass by the final room, the scarlet room that sparked these urges. And once you get back to the lobby, you part ways with promises to meet at the front door.

Jeongin is one of the few wearing a white mask, so it’s fairly easy to find him. He’s currently standing by the open bar, holding a glass of red wine. It doesn’t make sense that he’s already old enough to drink. You make a joke of it once you stand by him.

“Ah, (Y/N)! I was going to come find you, actually. How are you and Mr. Lee fairing?”

“We’re just about to leave. I wanted to come by and let you know that you’re free of your chaperone duties.” This makes Jeongin chuckle, taking a sip of his wine before answering.

“Well, it was lovely meeting you and Mr. Lee in person, finally. I hope to see you guys in the future. Have a wonderful rest of your night.”

“You, as well, Jeongin.”

You turn to leave when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Actually, (Y/N),” Jeongin stops you. “I almost forgot to tell you.” He lifts his mask off, leaning close so that he can speak low.

“Hyunjin says ‘long time, no see’.” For the first time, his grin doesn’t seem as innocent or friendly as you are used to seeing, more Cheshire. At your blank stare, he winks before putting his mask back down. And with a lift of his glass, you turn, making your way to the door.

You try to shake the unfamiliar feeling, trying to calm the hairs that stand on end. You don’t even want to think about how Jeongin could know that name, that person. Suddenly, the mysterious crowd that acted as a euphoric calm all night turns cold. You need to leave as soon as possible.

Seeing Minho at the entrance is a solace, and you school your expressions quickly so he doesn’t notice.

“Is my baby girl ready to leave?” asks Minho in that compelling tone.

In a scoff, you give a smile that reads icy. It’s always your favourite game to play with Minho, like he actually has any control, ever.

“Alright, Mr. Jeong,” you huff to the driver as you slide into the backseat with Minho following suit. You rip off the mask and meet the eyes of the unsuspecting driver. “If you don’t get us back to Gangnam in 40 minutes, you can start looking for another job.”

Minho is quick to diffuse the situation while he closes the car door. “No, you won’t, Jeong. (Y/N), behave yourself.” The delivery of his words are rough, but it only feels like one of many victories for you tonight.

You click your tongue, leaning so your face is mere inches from his. “It’s an hour long drive, and I have some class. I wouldn’t fuck you here without a partition.”

“If you had any class you would control yourself.” Rebuttals the annoyed author. He doesn’t dare to back down when you act in this manner.

Thus, you are the first to break, falling back onto the leather seat, folding your arms like a spoiled child that didn’t get their way.

“Take off that stupid mask,” is your only gripe.

With a chuckle, he does exactly that. “You were the one that picked it out. Now it’s stupid?”

“Duh, it’s covering up your face.” You fight the grin that forms when he coos at your unseemly compliment.

At the late midnight hour, the roads are rather clear, making the drive smooth and soothing. Just as you enjoy watching the highways from above, you like the sights that you can see while on them, looking up at the buildings with rooms lit for one reason or another. 

You’re not sure when it happened, but as the car wheezed through the cities, you find yourself with your back against Minho’s chest, his hands slow as they trace up and down your arms, tickling at your neck and tapping at your jaw. Your eyes are hypnotized by the blurring images outside the window while every caress takes you deeper into a headspace normally locked away. That was the pleasure of being half human, to be able to open parts of the mind that possibly would not exist as a demon. 

But the demon half is what allowed you to feel so strongly, to feel another’s energy and feed off such. Surely, humans can experience levels of pleasure that should almost be an abomination, but for demons, that’s exactly what it is. And you can indulge as much as you want, with a hunger that’s never completely satisfied. Moreso, it’s addicting.

Lee Minho is a drug, correct.

The time passes quickly, like the blur of the city at night. Soon you’re in the garage of your home, clambering out of the car before Mr. Jeong can even think of opening the door for you. As an apology, you thank him kindly, tugging Minho behind you as you get to the elevator.

Again, because of the late hour, everything is quiet, safe for the slide of steel as the lift drags you up and up until you’re close to the top, opening to the hall that leads to the suite. 

The apartment is dark since you hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights before leaving, so the windows show the stars of the metropolis, lit skyscrapers and buildings outside, streetlights in the far distance. 

“Do you need help with your dress?” Despite the question seeming genuine, you can feel his breath against your skin, as if you’re not already incredibly aware of every touch he sends your way.

The anticipation is a high of its own, and you become inebriated with the sparks that shoot up your spine.

“I can do it myself.” Before Minho can respond, you pull your heels off, already reaching behind you to pull the zipper down as you walk down the hall to the bedroom.

The structured bodice peels from your torso, and you breathe out easily, feeling free from the confines. Tossing the dress unceremoniously onto the bench sat at the wall by the door, you start on the jewelry, pulling off the pretty rings, taking off the necklace and earrings.

The bathroom light is the first one you have turned on since stepping foot into the apartment, the vanity illuminating so you can see yourself clearly. Everything seems to be intact, the makeup you made sure to thoroughly apply as well as the up-do hairstyle you selected for the night.

You can hear his footsteps as he enters the bedroom, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he leans against the bathroom doorway. You’re tempted to look as you hear his shuffling about, no doubt tearing off the tie he was wearing, already rid of his suit jacket, possibly unbuttoning the dress shirt...

Your body deceives you as you sneak a glance. Some of his perfectly styled hair has rebelled, falling on his forehead. There’s a predatory look to his dark eyes as he watches you intently, forceful with the way he unbuttons his cuffs first, then going for the buttons going down the shirt. 

But despite your heart racing and your nerves igniting, you calmly reach for the bottle of micellar water and cotton pads. The point isn’t to be thorough, but rather who will break first, and Minho is on his way to losing, just as he makes his way towards you, at the counter.

Whether he’s admitted it or not, he likes watching you in this manner; loves when you lean over the counter so you can make yourself prettier than you already are, likes when you pay attention to yourself.

“You’re so beautiful,” he makes sure to whisper into your ear, watching you through the reflection of the mirror. He knows he won’t get a reaction out of you. Is that considered masochism?

“I know,” you say, giving a pointed look at him. “But please, refrain from drooling on me so soon. I’m trying to freshen up a bit.”

“Cocky little thing, aren’t you?” teases the man behind you. Again, with his fingers, they touch at bare skin, toying with the lacey trim of your maroon underwear. It’s a stark contrast to the way he digs his nails into your hip. He knows you like the rough touches, like when he makes your body heat spike and sear his own skin.

“Baby, that’s what you love about me.” It’s a fact that you learned quickly. Satisfied with the majority of your makeup wiped away, you fall back on your heels, closing any space that lingered between your bodies. You move your hips slowly, making sure he feels you completely.

With one hand still ensnared on your hip, Minho takes his free hand to take your chin, turning your face up so he can kiss you deeply. 

Intoxicating is his essence, the way it flows like a potent aura off his skin. And his lips, those sweet, delicious lips, they bruise against your own until his teeth bare into your bottom lip. Soon enough you turn around in his grasp, let him move your body until you’re sat on the edge of the counter so your bodies can meet and connect like puzzle pieces. 

The silence of the penthouse could be deafening if it weren’t for the pounding bass of your own heart in your ear drums, or the wet smack that comes from your lips, or the pants that come when you both need oxygen. Your lips move to his jaw, and who knows if it was your legs wrapped around his hips that brought him closer, or if his strong hands on your backside, scratching bruises as he pulled you impossibly closer.

“God, (Y/N),” he groans, letting his head fall back as you continue your attack on his neck. You move your fingers to continue unbuttoning the shirt. “You don’t know what you do to me.” And again he jerks forward, as if you weren’t already feeling his hardening cock against your clothed core.

In a slip of control, your body heats uncontrollably, just as a shiver makes its way down your spine. You laugh freely, feeling your body ascend with electricity.

“But I do, sweetie.” You push the shirt away from his shoulders, and he tugs the sleeves off, tossing the fabric to the side. “That’s why I love making you this way.”

And you’re not the only one that likes it rough, if it wasn’t evident from the moan that comes from his throat when you rake your nails down his chest. He’s back on your mouth in an instant, tearing past the satisfied, breathless grin on your face. 

Your hunger leads you in a certain direction; slipping off the counter, you push him away long enough to get on your knees, already messing with the buttons and zippers of his slacks. This is what feels right, your body tells you. Energy buzzes through you as you mouth at the hard outline of his dick in his briefs. Never do you let an opportunity to tease him escape you. You can sense it, the way his aura spikes when you taunt him with pleasure. It makes him cum more sweetly and harder.

With a groan of your name, you finally push his briefs down, immediately wrapping your hand around his length. Your free hand slides up his thigh, and the muscle underneath jerks.

He’s afraid to look down, is always weak for the sight of you on your knees. His eyes are clenched shut while you give slow licks to the underside of his cock. 

“Look at yourself,” you command. “You always look so beautiful in bliss.” Even your tone sounds like velvet in his ears. It’s easy to obey.

With some pause, he finally blinks his eyes open. The man that stares back at him looks thoughtless enough, and he can’t even recognize the man as himself when his mouth opens for a guttural moan as you take him into your mouth.

A hand goes to your head, his fingers weaving into your strands as best they can before fisting. You wish you could see him more clearly, being truthful about loving the way he looks when he’s floating on a high of pleasure. 

Minho watches as the man furrows his brows just as all the heat pools into his stomach. He thinks he understands, whatever sane part of his brain is still working. 

He finds some reprieve as you pull off, still working your hand languidly. “What did I tell you?” you ask breathlessly. 

His eyes are completely black when he looks down at you, and if you weren’t already drinking in the cologne of his primitive desires, you would probably melt at the look alone. Instead, you decide to go back to your previous actions, working your tongue on his cock, swallowing around him, feeling the weight of him in your mouth. When he hits the back of your throat, it’s exhilarating, and it mixes well with the sting of his grip in your hair. It’s a fine line of who is in charge here, just like how you guys like it.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants, back to staring at the man in the mirror. The red flush that splatters on his chest is a sign of how his body burns, the precipice near. The moan gets stuck in his throat as he does cum, and you drink him happily, licking at his length as it twitches in overstimulation.

The come-down is just as much of a rush as the high. Crashing back to earth and feeling the weight of your body, it’s another pleasure in itself.

You stand quickly, making sure to sandwich your body between Minho and the counter as he leans forward. 

He nuzzles his face in your neck, finding your burning skin to be a comfort. You’re not entirely sure where you are, his touch still electrifying you even though the weight of his spirit settles in your own core. You should be satisfied, to some extent, but you still have the urge to crawl into his skin, to become one with him.

He grins into your ear. “Your turn.” It sounds like a threat, and his grip under your knee as he lifts your leg is stronger than you expect from someone that just came. 

You can’t think properly, seemingly stradling spaces in your head that leave you discombobulated. 

“Bedroom,” is the only word you can get out. You push away, leaving the bathroom first and turning on the lamp on the nightstand, giving just enough light for you to comfortably crawl into the bed.

“Hey, what was that demon’s name, the one I signed the contract with?”

You blink, the question helping clear your head some. “Uh...Hyunjin. Why?”

Hyunjin says, “Long time, no see.” Jeongin’s words play in your head menacingly. 

Minho’s fingers, still adorned in the gold rings he put on earlier tonight, make him look powerful, unstoppable. The hands he used to sign his soul away to a trickster of a demon, the hands that wrote of his adventure with said demon and played it off as fiction. Probably your second favourite thing to Lee Minho apart from his lips. The first time you met him, before he knew what you were, he smiled at you as if he hadn’t committed a single sin. Truthfully, even with your mission still fresh in your mind, a mission you’d done countless times before meeting him, you knew you’d allow yourself to falter, to let Minho slip through the cracks and enjoy the life he sold himself to. And you were going to reap the benefits alongside him. 

But unlike what Minho suspected you were put into his life for -to act as a spy or just a reminder that when he died, he’d spend an eternity bound to hell- you were actually put into his life to make it end quicker than he expected. 

One of those precious hands tap up your foot, petting at your ankle.

“Maybe I should thank him,” Minho thinks aloud with a sinister grin, wrapping firmly onto your ankle and pulling you closer to him. 

“Having you just made this life so much sweeter.”

[zizbombs]

i'll do it too cause why not

Russian Caravan

Indisputably the best wormfic i've read. i haven't read anything that matches it's length, quality or originality and i've read quite a lot of wormfic in my estimation, so yeah. pretty good.

2. Tilt (interchangeable with 3)

oh tilt how i love you. rarely does a fic demonstrate such a complete mastery of the setting and characters that it's genuinely impressive, but tilt does it effortlessly and with style. hands down best taylor no powers AU and seamlessly weaves drama and top notch action while staying true to all characters. author has a fucking gift for action scenes, last arc has some of the most spectacular fights on par with number 5 and 3.

3. The Great Escape (interchangeable with 2)

it's an eidolon fic, so im already tripping over myself to give it 5 stars, but also masterfully written and other stuff too but i was too busy soyfacing at eidolon being awesome

4.) The Postdiluvian Road

It aint perfect, but it's one of my favorites. The AU is genuinely fascinating, and the duo of taylor and lisa was highly entertaining. i still look longingly at the collection in bookmarks hoping for the sequel.

5. Weaver Nine

One of my favorite AU's, however the story element is just a tad lacking compared to the previous contestants, but is on #5 just for the sheer soyface factor. has to be one of the best endbringer fights i've ever read, and respects each and every participant in the battle, leviathan included.

Honorable mentions, in no particular order.

anything by WhyWhyNot. some of the most impactful writing, despite the unique style. I love all of they're stuff, but they didn't quite have 1 work that beat out all the competitors.

R3N's works. same deal with the above, true quality but everything else was just giving 1% more. Riley, Alone genuinely made me nauseous and I couldn't finish it cause of how good it was and Desperate Times is highly entertaining.

Henghost: peak

ghstsnflwrs' archives, or the smugbug angst equivalent of a WMD. beautiful writing. i cry with envy at their prose.

JinglyJangles' stuff. While for the most part TINO, their writing has this certain cozy quality that I truly do love.

OxfordOctopus, just pure consistency. peak all around

ManMag: Literally just wildbow's alt account. im not even kidding like its just him. Writes a ton of wildbow verse crossovers, and every single one is so much fun it's insane.

TSK or smugbug guy. peak smugbug. nuff said. Our Private Crises could honestly be interchangeable with 4 and 5 its so good.

A daring Synthesis (explicitly part 2 only.) Housekeeping matters: Yes, i'm deadass. Yes, it's a gregfic. yes, greg does partake in 4chan language (slurs). Yes, part 2 is celestial forge while the first part is a gamerfic. yes, it's entirely unrecommendable due to the first part having the hard r every five seconds and the first part being story relevant to the second part. While there are some parts of part 1 that are worth merit, generally it is not worth it. I look at ADS as a deconstruction of the popular wormfic troupes that populate SB, like gregfics, gamerfics, celestial forge ect. greg is some golden retriever twink with a heart of gold? no, he's a fat autistic weeb incel that browses 4chan. gamerfics tending to snowball and have the protagonist become extremely OP with little to no work? nope, greg only ever really gets to be around armsmaster level for the first part, and while that is still strong it's a step back from what's usually shown in those types of gamerfics. then the forge, or the most hair clenchingly horrifying thing to ever come from the bowls of SB, which literally rewards bloating the story and spinning your wheels for nothing. While part 2 is genuinely good writing, I can only rec it in good conscious if you've seen the troupes it's built from and want to see them deconstructed or hate BCF. if not? god don't read it. I do love it for dunking on BCF though, it's great. For a more in depth look at BCF vs ADS and a general look at ADS itself, check out this post.

Secret otherverse fic: In This Economy... by sunlit_skycat. this, while not finished, is the type of stuff the otherverse power system was practically begging for. witty social commentary.

VICE: World's Worst Harem this one deserves it's own post

what are your guys top 5 fav wormfics of all time? with a bit of explanation if you don't mind.

doesn't need to be in any particular order, just curious what wormblrians have read and enjoyed and also maybe get some recs out of it

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 4

The next morning Dr. Xu and Eli were already waiting for Arlo and Sam outside the Corps building; the initial plan had been to put Eli on Spacer and then walk out together but Eli had assured them she knew how to ride so they'd changed to Eli on Spacer, Arlo and Xu on Arrow, and Sam on Teddy, with the group heading out together with everyone mounted.

And she did seem comfortable enough on Spacer's back so they'd sped up to a light trot; with everyone mounted and out of the mud they were actually making good time in getting out to the sinkhole.

"Was horseback riding a popular hobby, in the Old World?"

There was a pause before Eli answered Xu. "For some.  For me it was just part of training."

Sam, at the head of their little procession, turned to look back at her curiously.  "Training? For what?" ((Continued below cut))

"Armed forces."

Arlo blinked.  "Armed forces?  You're a soldier?"

"Was, am, still will be.  I am one of thirty seven 3-star gold rank Ranger Captains - the only person higher in the chain of command in the Ranger division is the Ranger General.  The Rangers of Dubei were one specialized arm of the Dubei Armed Forces, our partner division was Spec Ops.  Then you had your various rank and file for air, land, and sea, and we all answered to the High General of Dubei."

Arlo heard a very quiet 'that explains a few things...' from Xu sitting behind him.  "I see. Did the Dubei army ride horses a lot then?"

"Not the army in general - the Rangers did though, Spec Ops too.  We were the ones expected to be ready for anything so we were taught a lot of skills that most people assumed couldn't possibly be useful.  Such as riding a horse when there were thousands of different types of personal and multiperson flying or motorized craft available."

"Were you in the war that-" Sam stopped abruptly, gaze flicking to Arlo and Xu.  Xu was making a 'cut it out' gesture as he leaned around Arlo to be seen.  "-nevermind."

Eli snorted.  "Was I IN a war?  Probably.  We'd been having unrest and diplomatic breakdowns for about three years, last I remember.  It was one of those unofficial deals -- everyone was doing warlike things, but no one dared declare it a war. Not yet."

"DID they call it a war, ever?"

Eli was silent for a long period of time; they were almost up to the familiar red tent at the platform's edge when she finally answered.  "I remember my post being shelled.  If that didn't get called out for open warfare I don't know what would've been."

When they were at the tent they all dismounted, with Sam helping lift Eli down; with the horses tied to a nearby tree they made their way onto the platform and there Eli paused, shielding her eyes against the sun as she slowly (and carefully) spun in place and scanned their surroundings.

"Not even the cliffs..." she muttered, huffing out a sigh that sounded more annoyed than anything else.

"What about the cliffs?"

Eli slowly began making her way to the elevator car.  "I said, not even the cliffs look familiar.  I was hoping I'd recognize SOMETHING out here...anything, really.  I can't for the life of me see anything of Dubei in what's left.  Even the ruins that're mostly intact -- I can recognize WHAT they were but not WHERE they were in Dubei."  She paused, then gave them a strained smile.  "Not surprising, I guess -- Dubei was huge.  Portia's nothing at all like it."

"How big was Dubei?" Sam asked, stepping into the car.

Eli followed her in and as the elevator began to lower Arlo heard her answer "um...big.  Millions big" and then they were out of sight on their way to the bottom of the shaft.

Arlo looked to Xu, and then to Selene as she came out of the tent weighed down with two toolboxes and two duffel bags across her chest and back.  "We ready?"

Xu nodded; Arlo took one toolbox and one of the (extremely heavy) duffel bags, and waited for the elevator to come back up.

------------------------------------------

 Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it.

It was a mantra running through her head -- one that was familiar, that had been taught to her a long time ago-

 Don't think about it.

-that had popped up over and over across all the training it had taken to rise to the rank she carried.

Don't think about it.  In those lessons, "it" was whatever was not immediately crucial to the mission.

That this world wasn't her own wasn't crucial.  The fact Dubei was...gone, wiped off the map without a trace, wasn't crucial.  Nothing was familiar, everything was new and wrong and wholly alien to her, but these facts were not crucial to the mission.  

They didn't matter right now.

Her mission as it stood was:

- get to the heart of this facility and see what power system was installed - determine the extent of damage done and calculate probability of a total system meltdown - corollary to above: determine level of danger to facility and surrounding area should total system failure occur - create plan of repair if repair is possible - if repair is not possible, figure out how to fully and properly shut down the equipment and de-couple it from the system as a whole and disable it enough that it can't be turned on again - adapt as needed

There were many details that were up in the air -- did this time period even have the tools needed to do any of the steps she'd mentally laid out?  Rangers were taught to adapt at any cost but adapation had its limits; if there wasn't any tool remotely similar to what she'd need to detach conduits or activate the safety measures or repair a damn reactor then she couldn't just 'adapt' a suitable tool out of thin air, and this time period may not have the infrastructure in place to try to recreate one.

Were there any AIs left down here?  Based on the time-ravaged halls they were walking down it didn't look likely...where had the AIs gone?   Why had her people taken the AIs but left their dead behind?

Yes, she knew about the skeletal remains in the halls these Civil Corps folks were keeping her away from (not that it mattered - Eli knew nothing immediately important would be found in the office or dorm areas).  If anyone would have the details on this facility and how to stave off a reactor meltdown, it would be an AI - either one of the assistants or even the installed All Source, if it was still here.

 Don't think about it.

What had happened here was a mystery she'd need to work on, secondary to securing the reactor.  Additionally, what this place WAS was a mystery needing solving - if she knew what this facility was for and why she was down here that would answer a few personal questions she had.

 Don't think about it.

She had to stop and rest several times, bracing her cane against the wall and leaning her backside into it like a tall, terrible stool.  To be this weak and unreliable in a situation like this irked her -- she'd never been one who needed to be carried or coddled, not even as a child.  Her mother liked to say she came out of the womb at a sprint and never sat down since; she'd love to be sprinting right now, or at least capable of walking ten feet without getting winded or weak in the knees.

 Don't think about it.

---------------------------------------------

"I'm not sure which building this was because I'm not sure where we are, locationally, within Dubei, but I do know Dubei itself had at least 1763 hospitals and that's not accounting for specialized facilities, long-term care, rehabs, or anything else that wasn't considered general or acute care."

"Really?" Xu asked, looking amazed.  "The entire Alliance doesn't even have that many between them."

Eli shrugged and waited patiently as Arlo, Xu, Selene, and Sam stepped out of the elevator ahead of her; all of them carried either a flashlight or wore a small headlamp (Eli had a headlamp herself) and the two Civil Corps members led the way to a shattered glass door across the room from the elevator's opening.  "Dubei had a population of 2.7 million if you counted all the outlying suburbs and territories.  With that many people you have to have enough places for folks to go.  No amount of peaceful times can keep you from getting sick or old, and the human body has quite a number of failure points even if you're at the pinnacle of healthy."

Arlo stepped through the door and aside to let the other three through, then offered Eli a steadying hand as she picked her way over the broken glass in the floor.  "Were hospitals normally underground like this?"

"No," was Eli's simple reply.  "But I never said this WAS a hospital."

"You sure sounded like you were implying it."

"It's a possibility but not a definitive fact at this time," Eli sighed.  "The only facilities that tended to be underground were research facilities.  Being underground shielded delicate equipment from outside interference.  We might be in the underbelly of an especially large hospital, or we might be in a research center.  Neither is more likely than the other at the moment."

Ahead of her Sam and Arlo kicked away broken glass and twisted metal left over from the light fixtures that had fallen from the ceiling; it wasn't entirely needed but the gesture was appreciated all the same as she followed in their wake and walked up to the lone console she could see in the light of their flashlights.  

"Did you bring a power source?"

Selene nodded.  "Yep.  I brought four, in fact."

"Good.  I can already tell we'll need in that center panel there but let me get a look at what else we're working with."

As Selene began digging for the right sized wrench to start removing bolts from the panel Eli eyed the computer console from where she stood; it was rectangular in shape but slightly curved, came up to a little taller than her waist, and was covered in buttons, dials, a few wide slots and some sockets, a single lever whose head could fit into her palm, the grill of a speaker, and a pair of keyboards on either end.   The console was long enough to fit four people, five if they stood shoulder to shoulder.  

Pretty standard really, aside from the fact she didn't see any displays or monitors nor did she see where they might have been if they HAD been here and had since been removed.  The slots she could see suggested that, for this room at least, they might have relied entirely on the portable displays (both portable screens as well as self-contained computer units).  It was a lot more efficient to carry copies of your work around on a personal computer where you could later connect to the main system to update the files either in the database or update things on your screen rather than be tied to a stationary console -- the problem was Eli doubted they'd have any chance at all at finding a still-functional screen after all this time, which would leave them reliant on verbal communication with the AI system (assuming THAT was even functional, and she wasn't holding her breath).

With a grunt Selene popped the panel loose and Eli moved her attention to the woman and the revealed inner workings of the console.   With an offered arm from Xu she carefully lowered herself down to the ground to sit cross-legged in front of the opening and hunched so her headlamp shined inside.

Familiar wiring and conduits met her gaze - the dust coating everything in here was thick enough she couldn't see coloring or labels but she could mostly guess what was what based on connector rings, sizes, and where everything was running to or out of.  

"All right... See that wide cap there, in the very back?"

Selene got on her hands and knees, peering into the open panel as Eli leaned back.  "-the one that kind of looks like that's where the tube wires come in?"

"Tube wi- oh.  This is the room you found me in, I recall now.  No, those should be routed to the left there -- that one there with the 3-way split."

"Oh, ok - I see that one.  So the wide cap one is...  Aha, I see it.  Is that the incoming power?"

"Yes.  What you'll want to do is follow it in about eight inches and then take the top off the box it looks like it's feeding in to.  See it?"

"Yep," Selene answered.  Eli scooted out of the way and the woman moved in closer; she took off her headlamp and tapped the builder on the shoulder with it, swapping it out for the flashlight she held. It wasn't an ideal angle but Eli shined it over her shoulder into the opening anyway to supplement the headlamp and then had nothing else to do but wait and hope the woman was able to get the relay box's lid off.

There were a few clanks, the sound of something breaking loose followed by the sound of metal clattering against plastic, and then Selene pulled out of the opening with the lid in hand.  "There we go.   Now what?"

"Now you're going to want to carefully unplug those wires from that box, and hope we can hotwire it to whatever power source you brought with you."

"Hotwire?"

"Uh... That's a term basically meaning to bypass an ignition or relay point."

"Gotcha."

Eli shuffled back over and watched as the builder dropped the wrench back into her toolbox and dragged over one of the duffel bags they'd carried down; inside was the familiar gleam of power stones (thank the Three that THOSE had persisted through the centuries) held within a metal bracket with wires and switches attached.  Selene handed the cobbled together device to Eli before ducking back inside the open panel to examine and remove the plugs.

She didn't recognize the plug ends on the device but that wouldn't matter much so long as they had a means to strip the wires and solder them together.  Definitely wouldn't be the first time she'd had to wire something on the fly like this - it'd be sloppy and slightly dangerous but if it worked it worked.

The builder pulled back out a moment later with a handful of wires and Eli waited as she carefully threaded them through and under the other components of the computer until she had about three feet of wire length freed from all the little clasps and hooks that had held everything neatly in place; as Selene handled the wires she smudged away the dust and Eli began picking out individual wires by color -- that one was for the cooling system, that one for a display (still needed to figure out that part), the thickest one was for the console entirely, there were two that powered the input devices on this end...that last thin black-looking one had to be for an on-board audio input/output system.

Bare minimum she'd need power to the console, the cooling system, and the audio (they wouldn't need the keyboard or buttons since there wasn't a screen to work off of - that would be less drain and strain on the power stones at least.  The device Selene had put together held four of the yellow condensed power stones together in a completed circuit; she was glad to see the yellow ones since if it had been blue or lower they'd need way more to have any hope of powering a console this large. Four...MIGHT be enough.  They'd have to see.

"Right, now - do you have a wire stripper?"

"A -- I use a sharpened part of my wire snips for that.  Is that ok?"

Eli nodded.  "Should work - cut the wires right at the base of the plug then clear off about a half inch of the coating.  Does solder still exist?"

"Yep.  I'm guessing I'll be doing the same to the plugs on my portable power device, right?"

"Correct."

Eli held the ends of the wires steady as Selene snipped and stripped, then sorted them out and lined up ends of wires so the builder woman could slowly solder them all together without having to juggle tools and align ends (strangely, she was using a mini welding torch to melt the solder...well, whatever, it was working).  When they were all connected Eli searched over the device until she found the on/off switch and flicked it on.

There was a loud crackling noise out of the console's speaker, causing everyone to jump; after a few more bursts of static there came a series of pleasant tones and then a low chime before-

"-Laboratory Assistant AI, online."  The voice was feminine and robotic - most AIs tended to have that metallic-like quality to their voices so that wasn't out of the ordinary at least.

Eli briefly glanced around - the others were staring down at the console as buttons and the slots lit up across its surface.  "-state your designation and assigned task category, please."

There was a tiny stutter and staticky noise again.  "I am known as Pauline.  My assigned tasks were to monitor laboratory experiments, issue instructions to medical assistant AI systems, provide back up storage for all experiment-related documentation, and record all meeting minutes and conversations that take place within my designated region within this facility.  May I ask who I'm speaking to?  I seem to be having trouble with my optics and my sensors beyond this immediate station are offline."

Eli carefully moved the power device out of her lap and onto the floor near her feet.  "I am Ranger Captain Elizabeth Summers.  Do you have me registered in your system?"

"Let me check...  I have you registered on the patient roster, ma'am."

"But nowhere else?"

"No."

Eli nodded - she had expected that.  "All right.  I need you to register me as primary administrative contact for this entire facility."

"I can't do that without prior administrative permissions from the All Source AI of the facility, ma'am.  Please wait a moment -- oh dear. My chronometer says I have been offline for 25 years, 8 months, 12 days, 2 hours, and 36 minutes.  Auxiliary power is offline."

"I know.  And unfortunately I am the only surviving member of this facility so I will need that administrative access."

"Please give me a moment to verify such a claim, ma'am - I do apologize for the delays in my responses.  I don't have the needed power level to run at full speed."

"Move as fast as you can safely process, Pauline.  We're in a dire situation.  While checking your logs run a cursory maintenance check on yourself for any data corruption."

"Yes ma'am."

The AI went quiet and Eli could hear a low whine from somewhere inside the console - age, dust, and the relative power level of the power stones were definitely putting a strain on Pauline's processor cores but there wasn't anything they could do about that at the moment.

"-I'm detecting no internal corruption.  I am showing that 115 years, 3 months, 6 days, 14 hours, and 16 minutes ago the auxiliary power systems came online .0034 seconds after the primary reactor went offline.  My logs indicate a connection failure between relay box 5372A-2 and 6981-B17, which placed undue stress on connected sectors and radiated out to effect the entire northeastern quadrant of floors 19 through 47.  As a precaution the reactor was closed off from the rest of the facility but it doesn't appear anyone answered the maintenance request."

At that Eli let out a huge sigh and leaned back against the wall behind her, feeling lightheaded with relief.  If it was a connection failure then the safety measures purposely took the reactor offline.   That meant they were in no danger of anything exploding.  At everyone's looks she gave them a smile and two thumbs up.  "That means we're in the clear - no explosion worries."

All at once an unseen tension melted from the room and the rest of them looked as relieved as she felt.

"Thank goodness," Xu sighed.

"Oh.  I didn't realize there were more than one user present," Pauline interrupted.  Xu seemed surprised that the AI had heard him as he'd been barely above a whisper.  "Please identify yourselves."

"They're not anyone registered with this facility, Pauline," Eli replied before anyone else could.  "Please search back through your logs and tell me what happened prior to the relay failure."

"One moment."

As they waited Xu dropped down to his knees beside Eli, gingerly resting a hand on her shoulder.  "How are you doing?" he asked - this time he WAS whispering, and Pauline either didn't detect it or was too preoccupied with her task to respond.

She smiled faintly at him.  "Like I want to fall over, but in a good way.  Knowing we're not going to explode any time soon is a big relief, and now we're in no rush to do anything down here."

Xu frowned.  "You're still recovering, exhaustion is to be expected."

Eli briefly clapped her hand to his on her shoulder.  "I'll be fine for a bit longer, doctor.  Don't worry about me."

His fingers carefully squeezed but his look of concern didn't budge; there WAS a creeping ache born out of tiredness coming over her but she didn't actually feel on the verge of collapse.  She glanced around and saw Arlo looking at her with the same concerned look on his face - Selene and Sam were both focused on the computer console at least.

"Ma'am, I am ready to provide my log report."

She returned her attention to the console as well even though there wasn't anything to actually look at.  "Go ahead, Pauline."

"Approximately 329 years, 7 months, 27 days, 10 hours, 12 minutes ago, I am showing that the facility went into emergency lock-down with the lock-down tagged with 'status: invader, armed, dangerous.'   Approximately 26 minutes later I am showing a mass evacuation of registered users leaving the building though the roster indicates there were 115 people unaccounted for based on automatic logging at all exit points.  3 minutes after the evacuation the 'hazardous material release protocol' broadcast issued."

"This place was attacked?" Arlo asked into the silence that followed Pauline's report.

"It would seem so, Unknown User Male A.  I do not have any further information beyond what is contained in the logs however.  For more detail you would need to speak to the All Source AI of this facility and I do not detect him online."

Arlo blinked at the AI's words; Eli inwardly laughed -- assistant or administrative AIs always gave odd designations to users they weren't familiar with.  "When did he go offline?"

"Checking.  -- when auxiliary power went offline."

Selene straightened where she sat, looking up to Arlo.  "The auxiliary power went out right as we rescued Eli -- that All Source hasn't been offline for long."

"Correct, Unknown User Female A," Pauline responded.  "The All Source AI has priority when there is any power issue.  As auxiliary power reached critical levels all non-essential services were disabled, followed by non-essential sectors, then I was put into standby and then deactivated completely to preserve what remaining power was present when auxiliary power dropped below 20% - unfortunately this means I am reliant on passively obtained system logs at this time and my access to those is hindered due to alarmingly low system power."

Arlo blew out a sigh.  "I can't believe there's another All Source here...  We had enough trouble protecting the first one we found."

Pauline's tone shifted from the pleasantly proper one she'd been using to one that had a tinge of amusement to it.  "Of course there's an All Source AI here - it would be silly to have a facility of this size and importance without one."

"An All Source AI is just a central AI that controls and coordinates a system of lesser AIs," Eli said, glancing up to Arlo again.  "Even every house had one."

"Indeed!" Pauline chirped, sounding pleased.  "And Stewart is quite a pleasant AI - I look forward to interfacing with him again.  It's been a very long time.  -- ma'am, considering the situation I have decided to give you full adminstrative access to all protocols, sectors, and documentation that are registered as being within my job designation.   Further access will need to be provided by Stewart."

"Got it," Eli replied.  There was a burning starting behind her eyes and she rubbed a finger in one idly, trying to encourage it to water a little bit.  "Pauline, we're going to leave you hooked up to this current emergency power.  Can you tell how long before it'll run out?"

"Checking... I estimate the current power source attached to my system will last approximately 6 days, 4 hours, and 19 minutes."

"Is that at your current activity level or without activity factored in at all?"

"With activity.  If I put myself back into standby my estimation goes up to 14 days, 19 hours, and 47 minutes."

"Good enough.  I want you to put yourself into standby and only awaken on the command of myself, or one of the the four people currently here with me.  I'm going to have them state their names - get a voice imprint for your access logs."

"Yes ma'am!"

Slowly draining energy was something Eli had in common with the AI; she pressed her back fully against the wall and pointed a finger at Xu, then to Selene, followed by Sam and then to Arlo.  "In that order, go.   All you need is your name."

"Uh...Dr. Xu?" Xu said, sounding as uncertain as he looked; Eli gave him an approving nod and dropped her gaze to Selene.

"Selene!"

"Sam."

"Arlo."

After everyone had had their turn there was a brief period of silence before Pauline responded.  "Users: Dr. Xu, Selene, Sam, and Arlo voice imprints registered. A pleasure to place names with voices.  If that's all then I'll place myself on standby and await future orders."

"That'll be all, Pauline.  We'll be back later."

The glow of the buttons all dimmed to barely noticeable and the whine of processors faded; Eli closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.   The anxiety from not knowing the reactor's status had been mostly keeping her alert and on her feet - anxiety and adrenaline both, really - and now that she knew they were in the clear she was approaching a point where all she wanted was a warm blanket and a relatively clean horizontal surface to stretch out on.

Again there was a hand on the shoulder; she opened her eyes to find Xu had dropped down beside her on his knees.  His other hand moved to her wrist where his fingers found her pulse.  "Are you feeling all right?"

"Just tired, doctor.  Don't need to be so tightly strung now that I know we're not going boom."

Xu nodded and looked from her to Arlo.  "Let's get back to the surface and to the clinic.  It seems we're done here."

"Right," Arlo said; he stepped down from the dais to give Sam room to get out of his way, then he came back up and offered both hands to Eli.

She hated how her hands were shaking as she reached up to take them, and with Xu at one side and Arlo pulling up both men got her on her feet; before she could reach for her cane Arlo swept her up into his arms, carefully adjusting his grip so his fingers weren't pinched against the backs of her knees.  Xu had her cane in hand and was following close at Arlo's elbow as he turned to carry her toward the elevator.

"Sam, if Selene wants to poke around stay with her, all right?" Arlo called over his shoulder (he was considerate enough to shout it over the shoulder opposite from the one Eli's head was currently drooping toward - she appreciated that, even if it rubbed her the wrong way to have to rely on someone carrying her to get out of here).

As they walked away Eli could hear Selene giving Sam instructions on securing the exposed wires; she closed her eyes again and focused on keeping her head upright as the three of them got into the elevator and began the long walk back to the surface.

So far as she could recall Dubei had 47 research centers within the capital -- most of those were tech-based but 13 she was certain had been strictly medical research.  The problem with that was she could recall all the numbers she wanted but she still had no means of matching where they all were on Dubei's map to try and mentally overlay that to what the land looked like now.

 Don't think about it.

'What kind of damn war could alter the landscape to such a degree...' she found herself thinking.  It would've need to be one hell of a war to have removed Dubei from the map like this.

 Don't think about it.

Her eyes started watering.  It didn't help the aching, burning feeling behind them.  

After a bit she felt the first hints of a cold wind blowing down the entry-point elevator shaft, and then sunlight hit her eyelids; Arlo's boots thumped across the wooden platform underneath her as he carried her out to the horses.

"You get up first, doctor - I'll hand her up and you can ride together back to town."

Eli could do little aside from wait to be passed from one man to the other; Xu wasn't willing to go faster than a walk with the horse so the trip back to town took longer than the trip out this morning had, but that was all right -- the cold woke her up a bit so she was able to slide down from the saddle with Phyllis's help once they were back in the clinic, and then with Xu on one side and Phyllis on the other she was helped back inside and to the bed she was becoming incredibly familiar with.

"Are you in any pain?"

"Minor headache, doctor - just tired."

"Do you feel you'll be hungry after you rest?" Phyllis asked then, helping her get her boots and coat off.

Eli shook her head and fumbled her legs up into the bed, and Phyllis pulled the blanket up as she sank into the pillow and shortly after she was out like a snuffed candle. When she woke there was still daylight coming in through the clinic's windows so she couldn't have been out for long.

'Not nearly so long as...as the last big sleep I took...'

Her eyes started burning again, and watering; with an irritated huff she scrubbed the back of her hand across them to smear the moisture away.

From nearby she heard the rustling of paper.  "-are you all right, Eli?"

"Yeah, doc - bad dream, is all.  Just a really bad dream."

[miraworos]

Azira Fell and the Apocalypse Scroll (T)

SUMMARY: The hunt is on for a mysterious and deadly scroll with the power to topple the world into chaos. Will Dr. Azira Fell, professor of Egyptology, find it in time to prevent the impending apocalypse? Or will an evil organization bent on destroying civilization find it first? To have even a chance at saving the world, he'll need to rely on the wily Anthony J. Crowley, professional guide and adventurer. But can Azira trust the inscrutable explorer, or will he lose his heart along with his life?

Or: A Good Omens Indiana Jones AU, because why not?

Ashmolean Museum, Oxford - 1935

Doctor Azira Fell hummed a few bars of Davies’ Op. 51 as he selected a couple of works from the Ashmolean library’s collection. Sunlight streaming through the clerestory window above ignited the gold-embossed lettering on the cover of a book chronicling the Ptolemaic dynasty near the end of the Hellenistic period. To Azira, who practiced knowledge the way others practiced religion, the glow seemed an omen of the treasure within.

Descending the step stool, he carried the volumes to a nearby table. He laid them as softly as possible on the polished oak and tugged the lamp chain. Then he sat in the high-backed chair, wiggling ever so slightly with the anticipation of the chase.

The passages for which he was searching would likely be buried in the usual drivel of martial accounts, rankings, and supply inventories. The Romans really were such tiresome windbags about conquest. Very few saw the forest through the trees with all their facts and figures and mind-numbing reports. Thus, it was up to Egyptologists like Dr. Azira Fell, associate faculty of Oriental Studies at the University of Oxford, thank you very much, to find the occasional tree that hinted at the actual forest.

Azira took out his small, leather-bound journal, opened it to where the stub of a pencil was wedged into its pages, and began to record the call numbers of the volumes he’d selected. With any luck, he’d have a few hours uninterrupted by students to collect a handful of tidbits meriting further investigation.

“Dr. Fell!”

Azira’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. So much for uninterrupted hours. He hadn’t even made it five minutes.

“Dr. Fell, you have to see this.”

Anathema Device, Azira’s research assistant and the first American woman to study Oriental Studies at Oxford, popped out from behind a set of nearby stacks, breathless with excitement.

“There you are,” she said. “I knew you’d be prowling around the 932s. Look at this.”

She hurried forward, holding a hardcover book open toward him. He recognized it at once as her mother’s account of her expedition to Nubia at the turn of the century, before Anathema was born. Her mother’s obsession with Egyptology inspired Anathema’s own passion for the profession.

“What is it, dear?” he said, as he took the book from her hands.

“I’ve read this entire thing cover to cover so many times, but I never noticed this before,” she said, her face alight like it always was when she made a new conceptual connection or discovery in her research.

Azira looked at the place on the page to which she was pointing, but didn’t immediately see the source of her excitement.

“I don’t understand,” he said apologetically.

She took the book back and read aloud. “In late 34 BC, authorities on behalf of Emperor Octavian claimed that Mark Antony had stolen a sacred scroll from the Library of Pergamum and gifted it to Cleopatra of Egypt as recompense for the burning of the Alexandrian scroll collection during Caesar’s Civil War.”

“Yes, but that was a false account to discredit Antony. Your mother knew that. We all know that.”

“That’s not the interesting part,” Anathema said, grinning wider. “It says a sacred scroll as in one—not many. Scholars generally accept that the rumor stated Antony gave Cleopatra something like 20,000 Pergamum scrolls. Not one sacred one.”

Azira stood up. “You think she means the scroll? The scroll about th-the—Macedonian, er—”

“The Macedonian spice route,” she finished for him with a significant look. “Yes. I think she could have meant that. Hiding an indicator in plain sight is just like her.”

He took the book from her again and traced the spidery writing with excitement. Anathema’s mother was considered the preeminent authority on all things occult during the Ptolemaic Dynasty. That’s how Anathema had come to learn of the sacred scroll in the first place, through bedtime stories her mother had told her. Azira had learned of the scroll through other means, naturally, but when each had discovered the other knew of it, they instantly formed a bond that, over the last two years, had led to a close and trusted friendship.

“There’s more,” Anathema said, eyes dancing. “I looked up sacred scroll in her index, and the page it has listed is a separate page entirely, with no mention of a sacred scroll at all.”

“Which page?”

Anathema flipped the pages while Azira held the book for her. She stopped a third of the way further forward in the book, and pointed at a sketch of statue.

“I’m betting it’s some kind of coded location. But I haven’t worked out if it’s the picture or the words or both.”

“Good lord, Anathema. Are you sure it isn’t just a misprint?”

Anathema arched a cool eyebrow at him. “My mother never made mistakes. Not when it came to her study of Egypt. Never once.”

And, of course, she was right. Azira suggesting that the book was flawed was ludicrous. He had found firsthand accounts with less historical accuracy than the meticulously researched analysis he was now holding.

“Agnes Nutter, you sly devil,” Azira said, scanning the page Anathema had indicated. “You realize this means that not only did she know where the scroll was, or at least what happened to it—“

“—she also knew it was too dange—er, valuable, I mean—historically speaking—to let fall into the wrong hands.”

Azira was too lost in thought to chastise her near slip, though heaven knew what spies lurked in the stacks, just waiting for a crumb of information to fall.

“So it does exist,” he muttered to himself. “It does exist, and its location is knowable. It has been found at least once, and if it could be found by her…”

“It can be found by people other than us. Which could be bad.”

Azira tapped his lips, turning the puzzle over in his mind as he gazed at the page. “But where to start? We can’t go haring off into the desert without a proper destination in mind, my dear. We simply can’t afford it.”

“We could ask the Egypt Exploration Fund for an investment.”

“An investment for what? We’d need to tell them what we were looking for—”

“—the Macedonian spice route—”

“—as well as actually produce something of value upon our return. We can’t excavate a ghost, Anathema. No one would subsidize that.”

“On the contrary, brother,” boomed a voice from near the staircase about ten feet away from Azira and Anathema. “We may be able to come to some arrangement.”

Gabriel, patriarch of Azira’s extended family and, regrettably, Azira’s half-brother, approached their table with a jackal’s smile.

“What kind of arrangement?” Azira said with trepidation. He didn’t trust Gabriel any farther than he could throw him, family or no.

“Well, it just so happens Mother has a keen interest in the Byzantium-antiquities trade gaining momentum in the Mediterranean region.”

“What do tourist trinkets have to do with my research on the, er, the evolution of the gastronomical trade in the early Roman Empire?”

“I think your interests overlap quite nicely with the Foundation’s objectives in this case.”

The Foundation was the philanthropic arm of the White Dove evangelical organization Azira’s extended family had founded generations ago. It used monetary inducements to attract vulnerable populations into the fold, often at the price of sacrificing their cultural identity and heritage. That’s what had pushed Azira toward Egyptology and the study of antiquities in the first place. He wanted to protect the cultures and histories and identities of the people that White Dove’s Foundation tended to erase.

“What are the Foundation’s objectives, if I may?”

“Profit, of course. Profit that can then be turned to…charitable causes.”

“And by charitable, you mean missionary, I presume?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Don’t forget that a sizable donation from the Foundation helps maintain this academic institution you love so much.”

“You still haven’t said what it is you want me to do,” Azira reminded Gabriel as Anathema slowly closed her mother’s journal and eased backward to be half-hidden behind Azira. Smart girl.

“We need you to travel to Cairo and make inroads with the traders in antiquities. You have an eye for these things. You can tell when something is worth procuring.”

“And what do you intend to do with any relics I obtain?”

“Why, resell them, of course, at a price more fair for the discerning market,” Gabriel said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the mysteries of the pharaohs have caught the imagination of others in the empire, others who happen to have the benefit of deep pockets. And why not indulge their petty interests if it encourages them to give generously to God’s chosen causes? In exchange, you could mount your expedition for your gastronomical …. whatever ... in your spare time, with our resources and our blessing.”

Azira pursed his lips, on the verge of refusing Gabriel’s request, no matter the familial consequence to himself. He didn’t need Gabriel’s blessing to go about his life, nor did he want it. If he was ever given it, he’d have to immediately examine at length whether he wanted to continue doing whatever it was that Gabriel approved of. Azira wouldn’t go so far as to classify Gabriel as evil—he was Azira’s brother after all—but if not outright malicious, then he was something just this side of it.

The refusal hovered on Azira’s tongue, despite the small nudge of a pointy elbow in his back. Anathema clearly wanted him to take the deal. But it was hardly worth the burden of being under Gabriel’s thumb again. The last time Azira had been in a similar position, it had not gone well.

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about setting up an antiquities trade, Gabriel. How would I even find these so-called traders? How would I know I could trust them to deliver a bona fide artefact?”

“No worries on that score,” he said with false amiability. He took a black card out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Azira. It simply read “Crowley,” with no address or number, only a snake sigil curled along the left-hand side. “This man is affiliated with a trusted business associate of mine. He’ll see to you, help you set up when you arrive.”

“And how do I find him, then?” Azira asked, agitated. “There are no details on this card.”

“Oh, he’ll find you,” Gabriel assured him. “Your accounts have been furnished with whatever funds you might need for travel and expenses.”

Guide or not, funding or not, Azira simply didn’t have the wherewithal to do what Gabriel was asking.

“Gabriel, I don’t think—“

Gabriel took that moment to lean into Azira’s personal space, looming over the shorter man with a deceptively mild expression.

“Listen, Sunshine. I may have understated things when I posed this as a request. You will do as I say, or I will be forced to withdraw my protection from you and my financial support from this fine academy. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Azira swallowed. Much as he’d regret the loss of the funds to the university, the larger threat lay in the euphemistic “withdraw my protection from you,” which meant far more sinister things than the words themselves invoked.

“I look forward to monitoring your progress,” Gabriel said with barely concealed contempt as he shook Azira’s hand and tipped his hat to Anathema. “And, as always, Godspeed.”

Then with a dramatic swirl of his argent coat, he took his leave.

Azira stared speechless after his brother. He hadn’t even agreed to go. But that was how White Dove, and its founding family, operated. No one was permitted to say no. Questions were forbidden unless strictly necessary. Only the most powerful family members were chosen to lead, and if those leaders dictated that something be done, it was done—end of conversation.

Azira had thought he’d escaped it by becoming an academic. For the last fifteen years, he’d managed to skirt most family engagements and nod politely at the ones he couldn’t avoid, until almost no one in the family even remembered he existed, but for the annual expense in the ledger with Oxford as the payee. Or so he’d thought. It appeared he was still very much on Gabriel’s mind, in the event that he might prove useful.

“Well, that was…something,” Anathema said, returning to her position by his side. “Is he always that pushy?”

“Most times, he’s worse,” Azira admitted glumly. Then he looked at the card in his hand, the snake sigil sending a thrill of foreboding down his spine. “Cairo.”

“Don’t look so downtrodden. This is exactly what we wanted,” Anathema said, laying a reassuring hand on his arm.

“It’s not the expedition that worries me,” Azira answered softly, tucking the card in his coat pocket. “It’s the demons we will owe when we return.”

Read Chapter 2 on AO3

Start at Chapter 1

[userboytatu]

Steve Rogers is a walking contradiction: the anti military soldier

After reading this meta on a gifset about Steve and Tony i got carried away and wrote essentially an essay about the analysis that had been made. and while i agree with the general sentiment of the post, some things didn’t sit right with me. btw i decided to make this my own separate post because this isn’t intended to start an argument or derail the original post, i know it can be annoying for gif makers to have dozens of comments added onto their posts.

(the meta in question)

ok so full disclaimer I’m not American and I’m not white. i just felt like this analysis was really interesting and when I read it I couldn’t stop all these thoughts that formed in my head, next thing I know I had written all of this in like 30 minutes. I’m not trying to argue or start shit, this is my own personal analysis of Steve’s character and why I don’t agree with some things said above.

First of all, let’s get this out of the way: Steve does not trust the US government. at least not blindly. the fact that he’s still the little shit that had a real problem w authority figures is something they touch upon on catfa a lot. he changed on the outside but on the inside he’s still that idiot punk kid and like, I get what the tags above me are saying but also Steve’s arc is more than that? and let’s not forget this stupid movie was written and directed by thanos Joss “I’m the true feminist ally” whedon so I would take this exchange with a grain of salt. I mean this is the movie that gave us “gOllY tHeRe’S OnLy oNe gOd m'Am” and “sOn oF a GuN” Stephen Rogers which is the most ooc thing I’ve seen since endgame’s Steve. Steve is a fucking potty mouth ffs he’s Irish and a soldier, so that doesn’t even make sense. but anyway, my point is something else, nvm this movie’s portrayal of Steve in general.

I guess we could probably argue all day long abt which Steve portrayal is the most accurate one since his character in the MCU is the one that’s suffered the most at the hands of inconsistent characterization, but I prefer thinking he already WAS someone that was well aware of the horrors of war and how unfair it was to recruit people w lies and the promises of education opportunities and loans for the poor to join the army, because he LIVED that he grew up dirt poor and had to see his mom take on three different jobs to support herself and him, so he’d consider this attempt to bring civilians into the military life by preying on their needs disgusting, he’d be fucking seething with anger. and if he had lived through the 60s (which I think it’s better for everyone involved that he didn’t, can u imagine poor guy would’ve died from the disappointment in what his country had become) I highly doubt he would’ve been the bitter WWII vet that defended Vietnam and shit on the protestors……. Steve would support the citizens’ rights to ask for accountability and demand justice!! even the hippie movement I think he would’ve been ok with when he saw that they were advocating FOR PEACE. that’s why he enlisted on the war after all, to bring the fight to an end and to have Bucky come HOME. I think Steve rogers would be all for peace. I mean, civil disobedience and telling the government to shove it? that’s Steve Rogers’ goddamn ethos. he would be all over that shit.

I agree w op’s tags where they say Steve doesn’t represent America, he represents what America wishes it had been. and I think Steve himself would be well aware he’s the anomaly here, the one that should have been America’s highest ideal. and I think that makes Steve very wary of his own image, anything he endorses becomes what America endorses. Steve rogers isn’t important, Captain America is. but I think Steve’s response here has more to do with his coping mechanisms to deal with loss, rather than coming from a place of “oh we’re soldiers, it’s what we do, we die for our country.” while Tony’s response comes from a place of anger (we are NOT soldiers!!! fuck u old man, i never asked for this!!! coulson didn’t ask for this!!!!!) Steve’s reaction comes from the intrinsic nihilism and dadaism product of his own time. it’s not that he’s minimizing Coulson’s death, it’s more that he’s so used to losing people, the thousands he met that died in European soil, the sick and ill from his ma’s work that died everyday, his own father whom he never even met, that his mechanism is to just. shut down. shrug it off a bit, even. people die. every day. “for believing” means for standing for something, because Steve is WELL aware that people that stand for nothing will fall for anything, and standing for something gives counterbalance to the official agenda. in his eyes, Coulson died not because he’s a soldier and winning the war means being prepared to make a few sacrifices. Coulson died because he chose to believe in something that the majority didn’t care about or even actively sought to destroy (the wsc over fury’s shoulder) and he died because he would not back down from the fight. I can do this all day is something Steve feeds off of because he knows that when you stop getting up from the ground, anyone and anything can strike you down.

but on another note, I get that Avengers happens literally 6 fucking days after he woke up from the ice, he probably had no time to catch up on all the atrocities the US had done on his behalf, or rather on what they said he represented, on the ideal he died defending and the US took and twisted and tore apart until it was no longer recognizable. Steve being a week out of the ice is super sad and to me, the biggest crime this movie did was literally brushing off Steve’s trauma, being riddled with PTSD and shocked from waking up seventy years in the future was not even addressed. at all. this could’ve been easily avoided by setting the movie at least a couple of months AFTER he wakes up. but whatever. After learning of all the shit the US has done, I think Steve rogers would be the first to walk out of there and be like “fuck it, I died for this country and you took it and fucked it up and now young people and people who’ve been killed for protesting your shitty ass decisions genuinely believe I would side with the government. they think I’M the stubborn baby boomer who kisses government boots and would approve of the Gulf War or the Vietnam War or the Central American coups or the war on terror or any of the stupid shit you’ve pulled in the 70 years I was gone!!! YOU MADE ME A SYMBOL FOR YOUR BIGOTRY WHAT THE FUCK”. so he obviously needs time to catch up on all of that before realizing how bad they fucked up his memory and how corrupt the system has become. but Steve’s depiction as a boy scout who believes the US can do nothing bad is inherently wrong and something only this one movie tries to do. no other movie featuring Cap tries to drive the point home that Cap is a goodie two shoes who still believes in american exceptionalism.

CATWS was the gold standard because it truly touched upon the cognitive dissonance Steve experiences coming out of a 70 year nap. the loss he experiences not only for being “the man out of time”, but the true man behind the symbol. heavy are the shoulders that carry the world indeed. and he’s been carrying the entire world on his since he decided to become Captain America. I truly believe the tragedy of Steve Rogers comes from the lack of agency he has over the Captain image, one that has been used to prop up political agendas over and over again. of course, he’s the one that decides to be Captain America as much as he is Steve rogers, blurring the lines between the two men. he could’ve retired, he could’ve adopted a new mantle or even go the old reliable route and try to keep a civilian life away from the superhero gig. but he didn’t. even in the comics whenever he tried to do that it didn’t stick for more than a few issues. so, you know in CATWS he truly experiments what it’s like to pull back the curtain and see the wizard behind it, he faces this disenchantment with the institutions that created him, both SHIELD and the US government. this helps pinpoint the moment he grows super distrustful of politics and agendas, because up until this point he’d only been in the battlefield, and he realizes governments cannot be trusted to make the right decision or even act in benefit of their people.

this way, Civil War does make sense when you see how Steve has grown so disappointed with modern politics that he sees the Sokovia accords as one big red flag, and the first step in a direction that only points toward authoritarianism and civil control. this movie deals with many things poorly of course, but one thing that doesn’t feel ooc is Steve telling the UN to fuck off. He wasn’t around to see the formation of the united nations remember? he literally has no background on what collective security and globalized autonomy are. there’s many things that could’ve been different in CW, but Steve was on the “right” side of the conflict for his character. (i’m NOT saying there’s a wrong and a right side on the Civil war dilemma. that whole thing was badly written so let’s just say it made sense in a hypothetical way). supporting the government in any capacity isn’t a part of Steve’s “thing”, but even when/if he sided with the US govt, he’d never endorse a political agenda that he perceives as “wrong”, knowing it’s hypocritical to do so. 

he doesn’t think the end justify the means, which is highly different from Tony’s pragmatism. if Steve and Tony represented opposing philosophical movements, Tony would be utilitarianism and Steve would be deontology. this brings the analysis full circle by pointing out that yes, Tony and Steve operate differently in theory, but in practice they both work for the same objective. Tony is the cynic product of his own doing, he understands how war can destroy and he knows the US has a bad track record of owning up to its own shit. and because of that, he believes that the most good he can do is in his own hands (and because of his extremist way of thinking, he also equates that with being the only one who can do it and therefore, he must, no matter the personal cost). On the other hand, Steve is the idealist product of other’s people efforts, he understands how sometimes war can be the only way to save what is worth saving, but also how it can corrupt even the noblest of men. and because of that, he believes that the most good he can do must be done because other people believe in him, and because by setting the example, others can follow and make the world a better place. (and because of his very stubborn nature, he also equates that with being the ‘tree that must plant itself in the ground and say no, you move’.)

so what I guess I’m trying to say, is that to me at least, saying that Steve Rogers would be in favor of US militarism or that he equates the word “soldier” with hero is a huge disservice to his character. the fact that he’s a fictional character that was first conceived as WWII propaganda is not relevant, because I choose to believe the idea that says fiction stops being the creator’s own the moment it’s out in the world. And Steve Rogers NOW is a different character and serves a different purpose than what he was originally intended to. His entire origin is based on being a soldier, yes, but what makes his character so compelling is the juxtaposition between being a soldier and being essentially opposed to what the US military complex entails. he embodies a lot of american values ofc, like freedom and right of free speech and so, but my take is that he defends this values in a way that is distinctly non American. setting aside discussions of propaganda and the integrity of an art form, i think he’s been written in a way that evokes patriotism without being exclusively american. i mean heck, Steve rogers makes me proud to be from my own country, and inspires me to be better while never reminding me of the fact that he’s from an imperialist super power. Star spangled suit aside, he’s probably a fair enough representation of what one's love for their own country can bring to the surface, no matter which country specifically. i could delve more into that, but this is already getting too long and, since i already mentioned, I’m not from the US and my cultural upbringing is far different from the US. so i’m not sure i could make such a poignant analysis about the military culture and the way it impacts characters such as Steve. 

[snowflake-apocalypse]

🍎 The Big Apple Caper

Musical inspiration: But it’s Better if You Do; Panic! at the Disco

Team Red arrives in New York, they start scoping the area and discreetly gather intel on the stock exchange. Carmen, decked out in jeans, a t-shirt with a ball cap, is walking through the Grand Central Station when someone places a hand on her shoulder from behind. Carmen whips around,

“Jules!-Julia. What are you doing here?”

“Here to arrest you, of course...

And if there was ever an ultimate look of dread, Carmen was wearing it.

“I’m joking. Player called me. Said you were capering the stock exchange. I thought you may need some help. And I was worried about you. I’m sorry I stormed off like that,...I just couldn’t bare what you were doing to yourself.”

Carmen, now wearing a small, sad grin. She missed Jules.

|7 Days & Counting|

|Monday|

A week before the planned caper, Julia goes to the NYPD and sets them on a false lead, gets them as far away from the Manhattan Bridge as possible. In disguise, the ground Team went around and looked suspicious as Julia took some pictures.

||Tuesday||

Team Red, disguised as punks and ruffians with their sunshades on, hit the streets of the White Plains district. Objective: Stir up suspicions in the area. (Note: Zach and Ivy are wearing their outfits from “Where on Earth?” respectfully.)

Zach: “Okay, gang.. how we gonna do this? I could run up and down the streets, knock some trash cans over... jump on some cars-“

Cut to Ivy, who’s listening to this like “WTF?”

Carmen: “Zach, we want to look suspicious, not get arrested.” Carmen states from her spot on a bench, scoping out the area.

Zach: “Right, yeah. Got it. Calm down, Zach.”

Team Red gets to work, Julia is snapping pictures from various rooftops.

Carmen: “How are we looking, Jules?”

Julia: “Oh, very photogenic.” Causing Carmen to blush, while attempting to control a smile.

Ivy: “Oh, you flirters...” Ivy mumbles under her breath, amusement in her voice. Ivy is walking up and down streets, alley ways, looking into cars, hands in her jacket pockets.

The team continues being “shady” frequently over the next three days.

||Friday||

And one flash of the ACME ID, and Commiss is all hears.

Julia: “Hello, Commissioner Lock, I’m Agent Sliver. My office has intel to believe that banks in the White Plains district are being targeted for robbery. My suggestion is to increase security and patrols in that area should anything arise.”

Julia shows the “evidence” to the Commissioner.

Lock: “I see. Well, New York is such a big place, it’s hard to catch everything. And I’ve heard of trouble stirring up in that area from my officers... I’ll have my departments look further into the matter. Thank you for the tip, Agent.”

Julia: “And thank you for your time, Commissioner.”

Then from her ear piece,

Player: “Brr-haha!”

Julia: “Ehh.. what do you think? Too on the nose?”

Player: “No, not at all, Julia. That was great. Besides, V.I.L.E doesn’t keep any of their moo-la in the White Plains area. We won’t be going anywhere near there.”

Then further in the week, Player just starts setting off random bank alarms in the area. He’s having way too much fun with this caper.

||Monday||

Now the day of capering is upon the team. Carmen goes to the Manhattan Bridge, and she’s announcing that she’s about to make a heist, by dancing. 2-25 different dances.

News Anchor: “Breaking news: Carmen Sandiego has just been spotted, the first time in months actually, on the Manhattan Bridge and she’s.... dancing..? What in the world is she up to...?” And she and Player are naming off different dances..

Carmen: “And slide, jazz hands...”

Player: “Waltz.”

Carmen: “Tango.”

Player: “The Mash Potato.”

Carmen: “Hey... Macarena.” And their just having a grand ole time, this goes on..

And then moments later... the entire stock exchange crashes. Just stops.

Player: “And... freeze.”

Letting the world, and V.I.L.E. know that she’s alive and about to wreck them. All the stiffs on Wall Street begin to freak out, trying to unfreeze the system. But, the deed is done.

Player: “And... done! Get out of there, Red.”

Carmen: “Awesome job, buddy. Goodbye New York, thank you for the warm welcome back!” She winks and bows at the helicopter camera coming her way, and disappears without a trace.

|Part 2|

Player: “Hey, Red. Looks like V.I.L.E. also keeps safes in New York as well.”

Carmen: “Well, seeing as we’re already here...” She says with a smug smile.

This is the night after they robbed the stock exchange, took more than 10 billion from V.I.L.E.. They anticipate there only being about 5 million in total revenue in this safe. But once in..

Carmen and Shadowsan, who just opened the safe: “😦 uh, guys... this is more than 5 million... We’re gonna have to make two trips. Fast.” There are gold and silver bars lining the walls, certificates worth 10,000 each.. just loaded. So this is where Team Red acquires their large sum of liquid. Between the 5 people in the field, they split up the bars and cash and such and go their separate ways for a bit. Player puts the certificates in many separate fake accounts.

|The next day at VILE:

The faculty are watching the news of the big screen, and it’s December 1st, so Cookie is there.

News Anchor: “Yesterday after the abrupt freeze, more than a dozen corporations at the New York Stock Exchange mysteriously went bankrupt. (Cookie just smirks and barely holds back a laugh.)

Dr. Bellum: “Something funny, Ms. Booker?” Dr. Bellum is furiously looking up all the financial records for all the fake corporations they made to spread their wealth out.

Cookie: “Oh, no. Not at all, Sara.” And she mumbles to herself: “Huh, the kid listened to me after all..” Proud mother moment.)

News continues...” Many are saying Carmen Sandiego was responsible. The scarlet thief made her reappearance after nearly 2 months of no activity. Authorities have yet to locate Ms. Sandiego for questioning. She remains at large.”

Maelstrom: “Coach Brunt, increase security at our banks in New York. I have a feeling she isn’t done yet.”

Brunt: “Too late.” She has a 😐 look on her face. Brunt is on the phone with their bank manager in New York. Maelstrom just buries his head in his hand out of frustration.

|Later with Team Red...|

Everyone is in the current hideout, they’re all watching the same news as V.I.L.E., Zach and Ivy cheer,

Player: “Okay, numbers crunched.”

Player just crunched the numbers and everyone is like 😮.

Ivy: “That’s a lot of zeroes, you guys.”

Carmen: “We gotta get rid of this.”

They donate a lot to charity, art & culture museums.. etc. Everyone takes a handful of turns on what they want the money to go to.

Founder of a Children’s Home: “On behalf of our gracious private donor, I would like to announce that we will be developing over 50 new homes worldwide. We will work tirelessly on construction, and to hold to our mission statement, that no child is left out in the cold.”

They take turns in deciding where the money gets donated to. They been around the group at least 5 times already.

Player: “Julia, you’re up.” As the group is circled around a table in a hideout, eating ice cream out of the bucket.

Julia: “Hm.. The Children’s Music Society.”

Player: “You got it. Shadowsan?”

Shadowson: “The Koi Fish Protection Foundation.”

Player: “Koi fish, very nice.”

So tonight everyone mostly donated to the kids,

Zach: “To the kids!”

The group: “To the kids!” They all hold their spoons up in a toast.

Ivy: “And the koi fish!” And then everyone shares a laugh.

Then still have some left over. They start expanding. And I want to be clear, Player is using pocket change in what they stole.

Carmen: “Merry Christmas, Player. Can you make the last of the stash disappear?”

Player: “Oh, I’m sure I can work something out.” As he looks to the rough draft drawings he’s made of Mission Control.

| Continues in OP: Mission Control|

|Epilogue|

So the Team is in Rome, a week since they robbed V.I.L.E blind. Most of the stash has been donated, with a little bit going to of the Team. Carmen is out browsing the city.

Player: ”Whatchu up to now, Red?”

Carmen: “Oh, just spending my cut.” As she stops in the front window of a very posh jewelry store, eyes set on a pair of 1 1/2 karet diamond studs.

Carmen: “Hey, do you think you could make another set of communication earrings?”

Player: “Sure. No problem.”

| Then story picks up in Rome, where Carmen asks Julia to officially be apart of Team Red.|

[alleiradayne]

SPN MinnCon Day 3

You know what, I’m pulling the I-just-gave-birth-to-a-tiny-helpless-human card. That’s why I didn’t get back to this sooner. Also my mom and aunt were in town helping out a ton but it also kept me away from Tumblr most days.

So. MinnCon Day 3. This day was the day for me. I had been looking forward to the whole weekend for months. But truly, this day was something that I had been freaking out about for about two weeks for two reasons. 1.) Jared Photo Op. 2) Jared 30 Minute Meet and Greet.

I’ll preface this with the fact that I am a dyed-in-the-wool Jared/Sam stan. I cannot get enough of him and his smile and his sense of humor and his hair and his compassion and his empathy and his brain and his eyes. Okay, yeah, I love the 6′4″ mansuit he inhabits, too.

When you read this, you’re going to see a lot of Jared. A decent bit of Jensen, too (I took a lot of pictures of him). But I’ll be writing a lot more about Jared. Except for the meet and greets. Which... ugh, I wish I could tell you guys about his 30 minute meet and greet as well as his 10 minute for VIP. But I can’t. :(

Buckle up bitches, this shits long...

It was the first picture I took.

The day started out with the Gold Panel. If you haven’t seen it yet, my fellow VIP’er, Sue, gave Jared a thing of cupcakes when he called on her for a question and she didn’t have one ready. So she asked him if he wanted a cupcake. There’s rules about giving them food; I guess they’re not supposed to take it, but Jared was like, “Uh shit yeah I want a cupcake.”

He was only supposed to take one for each of them. But I don’t think he could hear her very well. So he took the whole thing. I was supposed to eat one of those fucking cupcakes.

And then:

CUPCAKEPOCALYPSE

It went on for several minutes. Jared dropped the cupcakes (THAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO EAT) and made a giant mess. A creation staff person came out to help, a fan offered baby wipes, and Jensen had to help clean Jared’s face.

“Help a brother out, man.”

“You are beyond help.”

Brothers. I swear.

Questions were fun and it was during this panel that I could tell that the day would be distinctly different from previous con’s Sundays. We all know Jared is quite a bit more talkative than Jensen. But today, that would not be the case. Someone put a quarter in Jensen...

He’s so pretty.

Again, I’m not sure what someone said (I know I could go watch the video but, time) but Jensen busted out the imaginary popcorn.

And then there were more wonderful pictures of Jared.

See. Lots of Jared.

If you want to see ALL of the pictures I took (and edited) from the entire weekend:

GO HERE

The flicker album will be available until flickr decides to get rid of free accounts or whatever nonsense Yahoo wants to do with flickr.

After the gold panel I had Jared’s 30 minute meet and greet and his photo op. I was hoping that by waiting to post this, I’d have my .jpg from Chris, but I don’t.  The meet and greet was fantastic. There were 20 people in that session, and we drew numbers for seats. I got number 6 which ended up being right in the middle of the front row. I don’t know how I got so fucking lucky...

I got to ask my very weird question and got a very cogent and incredibly self-aware answer that kind of blew me away. And we even had time to sneak in my follow-up, which also resulted in another ridiculously self-aware response. And he remembered these questions because he later brought the topic up again at the 10 minute VIP.

Now the photo op. I’m pretty sure this interaction tops the entire weekend (just sneaking past his autograph and getting a smooch from Rob Benedict). Remember the fact that I’m 37 weeks pregnant. I had no clue what the hell to do for this photo op. I was wearing my self-made maternity “Love Yourself First” t-shirt, all black, with red/black buffalo plaid. I don’t know if it was entirely obvious that I was pregnant as I walked up to Jared for my op.

The VIP folks with his op got to go first. I opted, out of the four of us with his op, to go last. I walked up as Bang A Gong (Get It On) played, and whenever there is music playing, I cannot help but dance a bit. So my dumbass does my white-girl shimmy up to him and he laughed as he did his own short dance, but then proceeded to damn near do the splits to take the picture. I’m 5′4″. He’s 6′4″. I definitely didn’t want to take a picture with my face at his sternum. He knew that.

But other than that I didn’t know what to do. So I told him that. Here’s the conversation:

“Hey. I really don’t know what to do because she’s in the way,” I said as I pointed at my very-much-in-the-way-pregnant-stomach.

Jared’s eyes popped when he looked and then immediately started rubbing my stomach. Now normally, I would not have been okay with some rando touching my pregnant stomach without asking.

Jared Padalecki is not some rando. And he asked, “How far along are you?”

I laughed as I said, “I’m due in three weeks.”

If I thought his eyes popped before, they damn near fell out of his head at that. He replied, “Holy shit, how the fuck are you on your feet?! That is so badass, I can’t believe you’re here!” He held up his hand for a high-five, which I did, and he grabbed my hand to hold on to it. He then asked me my name. I told him and mentioned I’d been to the con last year with my sister and she was sad she couldn’t make it this year. And he then said, “Jeanna, awesome, I’m so sorry your sister couldn’t be here. But, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” I told him I was great and that I’d been looking forward to this for months even though I’m huge and was really nervous about this photo op.

He then pulled me into him, wrapped his arms around me (like he does for most of his ops) and we took the picture. With his arms still around me, he looked me in the eye and said, “It was wonderful to meet you again. I am so glad you are here and that you’re doing so well. Is this your first?”

“Yup.”

“I am so happy for you, that’s awesome. I remember Gen had the pregnancy glow, you look absolutely stunning, you’re rockin’ it hard. Thank you again for being here. I’ll see you again later in VIP.”

I thanked him and hugged him once more and he kissed the top of my god damn head.

And then I left the photo op room. As I was walking out of the room, a fellow VIP’er was waiting for me and saw me walking out. I think I had the worst dead-eyes face on because she said, “What happened?! Did something go wrong with your op?!”

And I said, “No. It was amazing I’m fucking speechless and don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m forgetting something. I... don’t know what to do all of a sudden.”

“Breathe, honey. You’re forgetting to breathe.”

You’re god damn right I was forgetting to breathe. I mean, this just happened:

I couldn’t have asked for a better photo.

Moving on...

Next was Mark Pellegrino’s panel which was stellar. I love him.

Rob came out eventually and was giving Mark the Dad stare. I kinda wish Rob would look at me like that... eh, @atc74?

And then there was some funny God and His Children interactions.

Such a stellar cast.

And then there was the Jensen and Jared main panel.

Guys. Gals. There are so many fucking pictures I took. Here’s a random sampling:

It was an amazing panel. Like I said someone put a quarter in Jensen and he was just on point this year. Compared to other cons and videos I’ve watched, he really came out of his shell at this event and put on an amazing show with Jared. I absolutely recommend watching all the videos from this convention because they are so worth it.

After the main panel was Mark’s, Jensen’s, and Jared’s 10 minute VIP meet and greets. Holy shit were they great. Again, can’t really talk about them, but I got to sit next to Jared and he doesn’t understand personal space. I’ll leave it at that.

The night ended with autographs. I hit up Jared’s first, which in hindsight wish I’d done last but oh well. I hopped in line and when he saw me he said, “Remind me how long you’ve got?” as he reached out and touched my stomach again. I told him it was three weeks out and he smiled and shook his head as he said, “Damn, you are a fucking trooper. Congratulations again. Keep kickin’ ass.” He signed the photo, thanked me, and I thanked him. Right as I stepped away, he said, “You tweet that baby’s picture right away! I wanna see her face!”

I did tweet a picture, but I don’t think he saw it. That’s okay, I didn’t really think he would.

Jensen was next, who I had sign my J2 op from the previous year with my sister. While signing, his mala bead bracelet got stuck on the table cloth. My first thought was to say, “What did you do, Ray?” in my best Winston impression. And Jensen didn’t miss a beat. “I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there...”

Thanks for knowing your Ghostbusters references, Jensen.

Last but not least was Misha. Aside from his 10-min meet and greet, I’d never really interacted with him. There was a short wait for him as he finished up his Castiel photo ops. My VIP liaison and I were waiting together because she had an op for his auto too. And then he arrived, got settled and waved us over. I had him sign the first op my sister and I ever got from 2016 with Misha and Mark Sheppard. Mark had signed it last year.

And Misha remembered from VIP on Saturday that I was pregnant and asked me about it. When I told him it was a girl, he said, “Oh yeah, you’re gonna love it, it’s stupidly fun. Picked a name yet?” and I told him we decided on Elizabeth. His response was, “How cool, my sister’s name is Elizabeth. You have fun with that baby and don’t listen to anyone. Follow your gut. Science, too. But trust yourself. You got this.”

And then we were done. I went back to the VIP room, helped clean up a bit, gathered my stuff, and headed for my car. The second I walked out of the room, I started crying because... it was over. Everything was done, all the things I’d been looking forward to for months were... done. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, the weekend was behind me.

I’m still not over it. I’m waiting for the next opportunity to meet them all again. I called my sister in that moment of sudden sadness and told her that we absolutely had to do VIP together at Chicago, or hope they come back to Minneapolis soon. I can’t imagine doing a con without VIP again.

And the weekend wouldn’t have been what it was without all the people I met and new friends I made. You’re all wonderful and amazing and I can’t thank you enough for how welcoming you all were.

I hope you all enjoyed reading these. I think I’ll put a master post together to link to all three parts/days and add a link to the flickr album there as well. Thanks again for reading!

[9ofspades]

Okay, one huge issue I’ve been seeing with all the responses to posts like these is the assumption that when rich people don’t spend their money on material goods, it literally sits there stagnating and therefore doesn’t “stimulate the economy”. 

That’s not how money works. 

You could definitely argue that what the wealthy do with their unspent money doesn’t meaningfully impact ordinary people in any way, and that it therefore doesn’t benefit anyone to give money to the rich. But to make that argument, you need to understand what actually does happen to money hoarded by the wealthy. And not understanding that and making posts makes it all the easier for people who disagree to attack the idea of giving more money to the poor. 

When rich people have money that they aren’t spending, they invest most of it. Even those that keep their money in bank accounts are contributing to the money getting invested in various places - banks don’t just keep your money in vaults of gold coins guarded by dragons; they take your money and invest it themselves so that they can make more money. That means the accumulation of wealth by a very few people ends up helping corporations grow, and that it literally does stimulate the economy. 

The problem is that this stimulation doesn’t actually have much of an impact on anyone who isn’t a shareholder or the head of a corporation (And when it’s just $600, it doesn’t even have much of an impact on people who are shareholders or the head of a corporation). It doesn’t really matter to ordinary people whether the S&P 500 is up 3 points or 5 points on one particular day. It’s an indicator of the U.S.’s overall economic growth, but you could theoretically have tens of thousands of people starving in the streets and still have healthy economic indicators or a booming stock market for the entire country. Which means that “stimulating the economy” isn’t by itself enough.  You still need to be helping ordinary citizens!  

So the people disagreeing with OP are right; giving $600 to a rich person would not be as helpful as giving $600 to a poor person, because the latter would have a much greater impact on the lives of poor people. But some of them are wrong about why. It’s not because rich people would cash that check and then stick the cash under their mattress and take it out of circulation. The money isn’t being taken out of circulation; it’s just being kept more or less in the hands of wealthier individuals. It’s not at all likely to “trickle down” into the pockets of people who are poorly off. 

By contrast, if you give $600 to a poor person, it’s very likely to trickle up eventually. They might need to pay rent, which means the money goes to a landlord. They might buy groceries from a large chain supermarket. They might pay off some medical bills, and the hospital might spend that money on equipment supplied by a large corporation. But more than that, it also lets that particular individual who received the $600 pay off parts of their debts, or buy food or something they desperately need, or even just something they want to enrich their lives. Comparatively, $600 going to a rich person will also stimulate the economy, but it won’t do any of the other things - it won’t get them anything they previously couldn’t afford; it makes a negligible difference to their lives. 

[deocransalen1979-blog]

So my perception of the song has changed to reflect this part in his life. I been listening to the song since the album came out in 2006, and it had been 11 years until I read the biography. Up until then I was having difficulty framing it. Mum STILL, over 5 years later, brings that up. Only when she talks about it, it the time that her daughter made a mockery of homeless shelters and wasted everyone time by over reacting and trying to guilt trip her. No, mum. Let me see you're twenty five, aren't you, Anne? When I was a girl twenty five was the first corner. But you look quite young. Red headed people always do.". A 오산출장샵 bloody cleaver would have been my choice." His father had not raised his voice, yet Tyrion could see the anger in the gold of his eyes. "And dismissing Selmy, where was the sense in that? Yes, the man was old, but the name of Barristan the Bold still has meaning in the realm. He lent honor to any man he served. Although the ProPilot Chair doesn't really give the sitter much choice of where to go, some restaurants in Japan are using them to advance waiting diners along a preset path so they don't have to shuffle forward manually when the party at the front of the line gets seated. The chairs are equipped with cameras to maintain a set distance between them, and when the one in front moves, they all move. When the people sitting in the front of the line stand up, the unoccupied chairs move to the back of the line. But when it comes to someone health and you talking about "what best" consider OP best options. Which would obviously be an elliptical due to the arthritis. The other stuff doesn matter.. Eh, this is such a common, banal, shallow Any absolute statement about something subjective like individual beauty is almost always bollocks. If you were correct, then there would be no people on the planet who said they prefer short hair on girls, which we know is not the case. You only need one exception to your rule to invalidate your entire viewpoint. To be fair, you can buy the skins after using the coinage recouped from duplicate items or just coin drops. And while on a brand new account that isn particularly viable at least it an option to turn it into something. Apex doesn even offer that, it buy our skin currency or get lucky or get fucked, that it. Basically, these cones detect the redness, greenness, and blueness of light. If a wavelenth of 580 hits your eyes, it excites both the long and medium cones a decent amount, but not the short cones, and you see yellow. But if 560 and 600 hit at the same time, you see the same yellow as the 580 wavelength light, because the average effect of the two colors of light equals 580. I then moved to Hawaii after getting an offer there. It was an extremely lonely experience for me as I had no one to talk to aside from coworkers. It was amazing to live in a rain forest and to snorkel after work, but that about it. Most of my veins look purple, some run blue and some run green. Most foundations for "warm" skintones that are yellow will look orange on me. Despite some surface redness, my 오산출장샵 undertone has very very little red. My schedule changed a bit. So I on a different side of town for part of the week, which means more shopping options. I stopped by a previously "far" Ulta in search of the Wella hair oil (thanks u/gabbyITgirl ) and was able to grab the last one. To be honest, I used the Moroccain Oil brand. Shampoo, conditioner, deep conditioner, and the oil for hair after you shower for styling. I swear by it.

[preppernewstoday]

Here are the latest news items and commentary on current economics news, market trends, stocks, investing opportunities, and the precious metals markets. We also cover hedges, derivatives, and obscura. Most of these items are from the “tangibles heavy” contrarian perspective of SurvivalBlog’s Founder and Senior Editor, JWR. Today, we look at the rise of telecommuting and relocation trends. (See the Economy & Finance section.) Precious Metals: You might have noticed that spot silver bounced back nicely on Friday. In just one day, it was up  7.67% to $21.18 per Troy ounce. That underscores one key aspect of silver investing: It is a thin market, so it can see some large daily price swings. The physical market is still very tight, so dealers are charging hefty premiums. Buy low and sell high, folks.  Oh, and please note that the silver-to-gold ratio is now below 80-to-1.  It is not too late to do some ratio trading — that is, out of gold and into silver.  If you wait until a reversion below 50-to-1, then you’ll feel like kicking yourself. o  o  o Governor Of Dutch Central Bank States Gold Revaluation Account Is Solvency Backstb op. o  o  o Central Banks Are Quietly Buying Gold At The Fastest Pace In 55 Years. o  o  o How Global Markets Fail And Gold Succeeds: Debt, Derivatives & Politicized (I.E., Dishonest) Central Banks. o  o  o Gold Market Roiled As Mystery Buyer Waves In 300 Tonnes. Economy & Finance: At Breibart: Homebuyers Fleeing Big Cities Due to High Inflation and Rates. o  o  o Home Buyers Are Moving Farther Away Than Ever Before. o  o  o Census Bureau: The Number of People Primarily Working From Home Tripled Between 2019 and 2021. o  o  o Video: Zoom towns are booming across America — USA TODAY. o  o  o Shipping firm Maersk, a barometer for global trade, warns of ‘dark clouds on the horizon’. o  o  o 2025: The Government Is Set To Spend More On Debt Payments Than The Entire Defense Budget. Commodities: Copper: the most important metal we’re running short of. o  o  o Will The LME Ban Trading Of Russian Metals? o  o  o European Natural Gas Prices Jump As Cold Weather Closes In. o  o  o Derivatives: At Bond EValue: Credit Suisse CDS Spreads Ease and Bonds Inch Higher After Earnings. o  o  o Global Credit Risks Rise as Recessions, Gas Crisis Loom. o  o  o A primer published last year, at Investopedia: Introduction To Counterparty Risk. Forex & Cryptos: More Central Bank Rate Hikes and Dollar Rises to a Two-Week Weighted High. o  o  o Turkey’s inflation tops 85% as Erdogan continues to rule out interest rate hikes. o  o  o Crypto continues to attract hedge funds and other institutional investors, o  o  o One in three Brits now own crypto. o  o  o The competing priorities facing U.S. crypto regulations. Tangibles Investing: Vintage Aircraft As Investment Strategy. o  o  o Is It Possible To Make A Profit On Private Jet Ownership? Provisos: SurvivalBlog and its Editors are not paid investing counselors or advisers. Please see our Provisos page for our detailed disclaimers. News Tips: Please send your economics and investing news tips to JWR. (Either via e-mail or via our Contact form.) These are often especially relevant because they come from folks who closely watch specific markets. If you spot any news that would be of interest to SurvivalBlog readers, then please send it in. News items from local news outlets that are missed by the news wire services are especially appreciated. And it need not be only about commodities and precious metals. Thanks!

[tonkicartoon]

Wowhead soul cinders

#Wowhead soul cinders Patch

#Wowhead soul cinders upgrade

#Wowhead soul cinders full

If they didn't turn SA into gold then yes, it's another annoying as hell system for the sake of squeezing gameplay in for artificial hours played reports.

#Wowhead soul cinders Patch

What I hadn't thought about in my original response on this article is if SA is being turned into gold next patch then it would matter, you'd just do you 2 runs as usual and send it on it's way. Making a lot of minor things annoying as hell for absolutely no good reason.

#Wowhead soul cinders upgrade

They continue the line from azerite respec and azerite armor not being spec specific, to conduit energy and the annoying uniqueness of the conduit upgrade item from Venari, and now this. Comment by Dhrall on T12:00:37-05:00Īlternatively, they could put it on Venari or some other open world vendor instead of this unnecessarily annoying limitation of having to play 2 Torghast floors to buy 1. Once your main is yoked out and doesn't need ash, then anytime you do a run to farm cinders, just send the soul ash to your alts. If you plan on playing your alts anytime to get r6 legendaries, then you will have to step foot into Torghast. The only thing this I guess prevents you from is hording soul ash on as many toons as possible right now, and then just having them sit at the vendor. It's not like you won't ever step foot into Torghast again.you will be jumping in there on your main and your alts. you know, just making it work like every other time they've done something like this? Comment by Krunklock on T12:00:32-05:00 Why make me walk into Torghast, speed through 2 floors on layer 1, go to the broker, leave, and repeat every time I want to buy this vs. My issue isn't being able to move soul ash account wide, that's fine. What is the advantage of the vendor being in the middle of a run instead of in Oribos, or in the entryway to Torghast, or by Ve'nari? How is the game better for that vendor being placed there? Nevermind the awkwardness of promoting people to level toons to 60 just to funnel soul ash onto a character and the absolute refusal of Blizzard to recognize the exponential time scaling on maintaining characters this expansion, particularly since balance is all over the place - how is that part better? I actually think this is good I have a ton of soul ash on my main it makes it easier to get Legos on fresh 60s or classes/specs that aren't super OP so now I'll spend like what would it be like 3 or 4 runs so about 20 minutes to get my max legendary item level vs spending a couple hours grinding it on a new or bad toon but here's an idea if this is such a bad system go farm it the original way it's not like this actively punishes players

#Wowhead soul cinders full

I don't think the incredibly small portion of the population that wants to "experience the full journey on an additional character" (which by the way, they could simply opt to do if they enjoy repeating content that much) warrants aggravating the entire rest of the game's population. Legitimate question: how is the game better for this system working this way in the context of the game state in 9.1? This continues to block players that for whatever reason are behind from 9.0/9.0.5 content from being able to fully enjoy the game and annoy veteran players alike. Comment by mzing99 on T11:59:44-05:00īlizzard: offers a gift in one hand, but slaps you in the face with the other. I can run torghast with my most geared toon and send the soul ash to my new undergeared alt. Just let us buy how ever many we can afford from a vendor outside. This is the dumbest thing I'll read all day. Please, shut down your hatred and please, shut up already :) Comment by Aleona on T11:57:53-05:00 If you place your foot in Thorgast at least 4 times on week 1 of 9.1, how hard is it going to be for you to buy the actual item 4 times? You will be getting obvious 570 Soul Ash that you don't need "for free" You will be farming Soul Cinders for new max ranks, which itself: You will have an OPPSIe and you will have to repeat the process You will WANT to unlock The Uber omegalul new max Layer, which itself: When you start playing 9.1, it will be mandatory to run Thorgast for at least couple of times, to name few: Listen up, I myself don't like Thorgast anymore, don't run it whatsoever after I got my desired legendaries to max rank.