#plus the most IRONIC ed cut in

[justplaggin]

Your thoughts on the new episode ??

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

BABY FACE BABY FACE!!!!!!!! KSDJDHG LFFKL WHY IS HE SUCH A CUTIE PATOOTIE

embarrassingly long ramble and wintersberg drawing below the cut:

lmao, I finished the GG playthrough of re8 the other day and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

anyway yeah. Don't even know what to write about it cuz it sorta overtook me with no warning, and idk shit about resident evil but here we are.

I read mushrooms and magnets on ao3, i did the frowned upon thing and went straight to most kodo-ed (i KNOW it's wrong but i didn't feel like searching!! I just wanted to Read. If I stick around any longer I WILL read other things too), and I feel like that's probably a rite of passage in the ethan/heisenberg wing of this fandom. Blasted through it in like 3 days. Anyway, like, 3 quarters through it I realized I never took it upon myself to see what ethan looks like? I just assumed he had Typical White Guy Face, which yeah, he does, but after an image search.... I never realized he had such a baby face skjdgf sksjfh PRETTY BOY PRETTY BOY

So then I drew him. And I drew heisenberg too, although I need more practice with him. Plus I think I got gassed out for the night, after drawing ethan. it's really hot and it can be hard to remember how to draw for fun after doing so many commissions.

One of my go to drawing visions is one character in profile, and the other character all up in their face in a pseudo profile, 3/4, tilted angle. And idk why I keep doing that, because I fuck it up at least half the time. Ethan looks good here, heisenberg does Not. I need better references of him. Seriously, if someone has a karl heisenberg folder on their phone with a crap ton of pictures of his face from different angles, PLEASE send me some. I need a clear one of him in profile. All the ones on google have his face obscured by his hat, glasses, both, and he's always in dark lighting. Ironic that the one who's face you never see has better reference pictures.

Kinda considering doing a GG animated for the moment where ethan's like "I just want to fix my daughter!" and arin (as heisenberg) says "uh, she's in four pieces," because it cracked me up so damn hard. His voice is so dumb. I love him.

This came outta nowhere but hahaha oh well, my interests change on the wings of the wind (wings of the wind = what the grumps are uploading)

[izpira-se-zlato]

Bootleg Hojan Merch

I know Nace shared part of the story in an interview a couple days ago, but I was planning on doing a write-up before I knew that, so here you go 😂 Also contains the continuation of the saga in Finland :D

Putting this under a cut because it's gonna be a bit of a read (plus a few more pictures). Yeah, I hope no one here is surprised that I suck at keeping things short 😂

So I have done a fair bit of clownery this year, and the most recent bit (before the shirt project) was attending two of the Polish gigs, Wrocław and Poznań.

I was wearing my Cha Cha Cha shirt to the Poznań gig, and when taking pictures with Bojan and Nace after the show, I opened my jacket so the shirt was visible. When stepping back after the pic, Nace spied the shirt and was kinda excited about seeing Käärijä merch – though he prefers the Häärijä merch, as he told us, because he's a "big fan" (his words, not mine).

So back at the hotel, I told @braveheart1418, "God, I'm so tempted to try to procure an actual Häärijä shirt. Tell me that's a stupid idea." Of course she did no such thing and so we looked into how much it would cost (too much) and how long it would take (too long), and so I was like, "bummer. And I'm not comfortable making bootleg official merch. Although, omg – it would be hilarious of we did Hojan merch!"

And the longer I thought about it, the more I fell in love with the idea. Again, I told friends, "tell me that would be a stupid idea," and again, they were filthy enablers, and so I started looking into the matter semi-seriously once I was back home (that was Wednesday the 22nd, so almost exactly a week before I left on a business trip leading into a stay at my parents' place leading into the gig).

The first thought was to get a big HOJAN in the Häärijä lettering on foil to iron onto a black shirt, though @braveheart1418 had commented that the design with a picture Häärijä on is much more memorable. That was a very valid point, except that there were no Hojan pics in suitable resolution that were in the right pose.

Thus, things I needed to solve:

get a plotter to cut out "Hojan" for the chest -> my mom said my cousin had a friend with a plotter. Contact was established

get a picture similar to the official merch of Hojan -> I reached out to Dean, who was absolutely lovely and set me up with a picture I could use

clip Hojan from the picture -> I had @submariini as well as another dear friend help me there because they are both much better at photoshop than me and were kind enough to offer their help, and decided to add the yellow border because the best picture Dean had sent me was black & white

get transfer paper -> easy: amazon (loathe as I am to use it)

find a copy shop to print Hojan for me -> tricky bc I got Inkjet-Printer transfer paper and most copy shops have laserjets, if they allow using your own paper at all -> I got laserjet transfer paper and once again had my cousin come to the rescue and helped me print it :D

find t-shirts in the right sizes -> I solved this by eyeballing and taking pics of my dad in the various sizes to check with @submariini. While nerve-wrecking, I am astonished just how well the sizing worked out in the end!

Despite the limited time (limited further by me getting sick Monday/Tuesday before my business trip), it all came together beautifully: I did a test-print Friday evening and picked up the foil cuts, went shirt shopping with my parents on Saturday (shout out to them for letting their adult kid drag them through three different clothes stores and especially to my dad for gamely trying on half a dozen shirts and waiting while I yelled at ed about which to take 😂), finished the test shirt (mine) that evening and adjusted the colours on the outline to be closer to the foil, printed three more copies of Hojan Sunday morning, and got them ready just in time for leaving for the gig!

Which was yet again nerve-wrecking because of the unprecedented amounts of snow happening in Bavaria, but it stood no chance against our determination!

Unfortunately, the snow situation meant that JO couldn't come out after the show, so I passed the shirt to Nace during it and received a pick in return, which made me bluescreen as I hadn't expected an exchange 😂 He put the shirt down without having looked at it, which was a bit unfortunate because I would have loved to have seen his reaction, but it was still a pretty cool moment.

They did get a lot of gifts this close to St. Nikolaus (which is also celebrated in Germany, or at least was in my youth), most of which they left on the stage for the crew to gather up, so I bluescreened even worse when Nace bee-lined over to me as they came back on stage for the SSOL-encore to thank me again for the shirt – others told me later he'd taken it backstage after Carpe Diem with him, which I'd missed 😅

After the show, I met @mogoce-nocoj and ended up talking to her for quite a while outside the venue because neither of us wanted to split off into different directions, and so it wasn't until we were on our way back to @braveheart1418's hotel room (finally accepting that we wouldn't manage to say goodbye quite so soon and might as well talk somewhere warm 😅) that I saw that Bojan had posted the story to his Instagram 😂. Let me just say that it was very fortunate we were still out-doors and not near normal flats, because I don't think I was quiet when I saw 😂

I actually ended up making four shirts including my trial one – one for Nace, one for Häärijä himself because it felt fitting, and one for @submariini because he's such a Häärijä fan :D

The latter two, I took with me to Rovaniemi (which was ed's fault, because (and I quote), "come to Rollo! It'll be fun!"), where a bunch of friends and I met up for a birthday party slash Käärijä gig (over 20 clowns in one place, it was amazing, 10/10 would do again (genuinely)). The weather and means of transport tried to keep us apart (train strikes and ice rains on my end, though I still had better luck than Joker Out), but we actually all made it and by now all made it back again, too :D

As I mentioned in a different post, I actually managed to hand over the shirt to Häärijä before the gig, and he told me he would wear it on stage, which he did! I also got a picture with him, ed, and me all in our shirts, which was also pretty great :D

So, yeah! The Process™ of project 1.

Thank you so so much to everyone who helped and encouraged me along the way -- my parents and my cousin, the gift to our fandom that is Dean Grainger (none of whom will hopefully ever read this specific post), @braveheart1418, @submariini, @alephai, my dearest friend K who's been an enabler for so so many shenanigans, and xia!bf for bearing with my insanity (both where the shirts are concerned and the general Käärijä/JO brainrot) and helping me make this project a reality 💛

[readerwithnosleep]

Book Series Specific Award Show Time!!

The categories are:

Most character development.

Least character development.

Best couple.

Best friendship.

Best chapter.

Best female character.

Best male character.

Best book of the series.

Most heartbreaking moment.

Most underrated character.

Most overrated character.

Plus an honourable mention.

The series of note in this case is the Zodiac Academy (plus additions from the connected series’) as it has quickly become my favourite series. For now that is.

SO! The results!

The award for Most Developed Character goes to:

🐺Seth Capella (ZA) because holy shit i hated this dude two books ago. I would basically skim his chapters when they appeared and now I'm smiling at the page when he comes on.

🐍Ryder Draconis (RB), like damn this man went from getting murderous, or horny it depends on if Elise was there or not, every time he saw the main group to being Nebular Allies with his worst enemy and walking around with DISNEY TATTOOS.

The award for Least Developed Character goes to:

🐲Darius Acrux (ZA), I really don't like this dude sometimes because his lack of change brings me such uncontrollable anger all the time and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL- he. does. not. deserve. Tory. Like, they are perfectly matched but that means squat when he treats her like a clueless little girl all the time.

The award for Best Couple goes to:

💙🦇BlueLance (ZA) because THESE TWO have the best and purest relationship and they are so cute but also so fucking hot and sooo fierce when fighting for one another. Nobody can even attempt to come close to them.

The award for Best Friendship goes to:

🐍🦅Ryder and Gabriel (RB) because the friendship between these two was utterly heart breaking during how it began to fully form after the first Elysian Mate bond but the devotion to eachother that they end up with is UNMATCHED in the Ruthless Boys series.

💙❤️‍🔥Darcy and Tory (ZA), these two have such a strong relationship, I mean their bond transcends the effects of the shadows from the very first moment that they use them. They were my rock, my fall-to relationship throughout this whole series and it hurt when they were separated and at odds the most.

The award for Best Chapter goes to:

🦁💜🐍Chapter 21 - Warrior Fae (RB) was SO FUNNY. Leon was a genius and that's all I'm going to say. 🦇🦅Chapter 19 - Warrior Fae (RB) was so fucking bizarre but so absolutely hilarious that it makes sense that why 'Orio' and 'Noxy' are bonded by the stars because what other friend would not double over in laughter when that happens.

💙❤️‍🔥Fire trial chapter in Darcy's POV (can't find what chapter it was) in The Reckoning (ZA) because they were so damn badass when they literally WALKED. THROUGH. FIRE. Like, goddamn. I would gladly join the A.S.S. and bow to Tory and Darcy.

💙🦇Chapter sex ed - The Reckoning (ZA) when many readers where reading the chapter through the gaps in their fingers and tears of disbelief and laughter. It was so bloody funny!

The award for Best female Character goes to:

💜Elise Callisto (RB), while yes there was limited amounts of female characters that were actually good in the Ruthless Boys series, Elise was still a complete badass and she deserves more recognition then I'm giving her in this.

💙DARCY VEGA (ZA) because this girl is amazing in every way. Imma just sum up her brilliance in this quote in which she cut Seth down to size; "Iron is made stronger in the hottest part of the fire, Seth. You didn't break me, you forged me.” I am in love with her.

The award for Best male Character goes to:

🐍Ryder Draconis (RB) because he was tied favourite with Gabe but since we barely see Ryder in the other books there is more excitement at the prospect him popping up in them.

🦇Lance Orion (ZA) THIS MAN OWNS MY SOUL. I would be his doormat if he asked me to. If he told me to. Even if he looked at it, I would materialise into it and feel honoured when he stood on me.

The award for Best Book of the Series:

3️⃣The Reckoning - (ZA), this is my comfort book. It is before all the awful shit stars to happen at the scarily fast rate that it does for the rest of the series. Plus, BlueLance forms.

5️⃣Warrior Fae - (RB) because this is where everyone gets all mushy squash and the ✨group activities✨ were great. And when they actually got on there was some absolutely amazing scenes between them all and it warmed my wounded heart.

The award for Most Heart breaking Moment goes to:

🚨🦁THE CAVE WITH EVIL, SIREN, THERAPIST BITCH AND LEON. (RB) That scene made me bawl my eyes out at like five in the morning and it was NOT pleasant. Not fun.

🐉💙❤️‍🔥Y'know what? Nobody talks about it and it annoys me. When Catalina is given a star divorce by Darcy and Tory, that shit was heart breaking because of how unhappy she was for YEARS until that moment. It was a happy moment only because she had escaped.

The award for Most Underrated Character goes to:

🐉Catalina Acrux (ZA) because this woman was so strong and despite that she treated the twins, Orion, the Heirs and both of her boys with so much of the motherly love that most of them were missing growing up. She deserved every little speck of happiness that she could carve out of the world.

🍰Middle Kipling (RB) HEAR ME OUT! He provided so many weird ass moment that had me in tears of laughter every time. For example, the wedding?? That was peak comedy.

The award for Most Overrated Character goes to:

🦟Melinda Altair (RB specifically) I did not like her one bit in the Ruthless Boys series, I mean she outed them and almost got Ryder killed, brutally, many times. Idc that she is Elise's or Caleb's family, she was a bitch in those books.

🧛🐟Caleb Altair and Max Rigel (ZA) the only times that these two are not completely unbearable are when they are with their ships. If it wasn't for Seth and Geraldine they would be such extremely pointless wet blankets. Granted, they have some leeway with this because they are useful in the seventh book but other than then they are just kind of... there.

Now, finally the honourable mention goes to...

🐀Eugene Dipper! I loved this little guy when he appeared in both series'. He was funny and he became a much stronger Fae by the ZA books and I think he deserves a mention because he managed to escape Lionel's grip.

[pikespendragon67]

AND NOW, Time for Another Pikes Check-In Update Thingamajig!!!

Basically this is just where I post current interests/events in life to see if other people are currently sharing the same interest, or if people just wanna catch up on things.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO:

What I'm Watching

Seasonal anime: Summer season's just starting so of the ones that caught my interest at the moment are the following

Might see if Helck is good when it airs

I'm getting tempted to reactivate my Netflix account for My Happy Marriage but ehhh maybe when Beastars airs again. I do like stories where characters go through absolute shit but get better lives and heal from their experiences

Undead Murder Farce: I really like the character designs, and I love the snark of the protagonists. Hopefully it's like Appare Ranman but with Victorian England instead of 1910s-1930s America

Jujustu Kaisen season 2: Sucks that the airing schedule seems to be whack (first 5 episodes will be normal, but then it's gonna be on hiatus until like. October) but I love the OP, ED, character interactions, and the Digimon joke.

Bleach TYBW: Bleach was my choice of shounen as a youth and it's got me in an iron grip of nostalgia. Is the writing terrible at times? Yes! Do I still love it? Yes...for certain characters nowadays

Apparently Nier Automata's making a comeback? Hope so. It was hinting at big stuff when it last got hiatus'ed

MAL says Dungeon Meshi is gonna air this season but I doubt that

I'm also gonna watch the new Superman cartoon since a friend's letting me borrow another friend's Max account (I COULD technically reactive my account, but I hate how WB cut most of their projects & library for tax write-offs). And I'm 2 episodes away from finishing Iruma season 3, so once I'm done with that, it's onto Saiki K to watch during my lunch breaks when there isn't a seasonal anime to watch. ...Though I'm kinda wondering if I should swap it for Nanbaka now... Eh I already had the poll, so might as well stick to the poll until I finish Big O

What I'm Playing:

Just finished the 2nd labyrinth of Persona Q. I'm not really looking forward to replaying the 3rd labyrinth since it's horror themed. (Plus this was around the time I actually had to start playing with a guide because of a few FOE puzzles. Gonna be distracting to do so as I play). That being said I love that this combines EO dungeon exploration with Persona combat. Makes me wonder if I should try to get back to EO4 or see if I should get EO3 on modern consoles

Other potential interests: Ghost Trick (got the special edition right when I was in the middle of my Persona Q replay), 999 on Vita (solves the issue of not being able to play the updated version at work), possibly get back to Personas 2-5 (after I read the manga for the first game; keep forgetting to do that), maybe explore my Steam library since I have a few games there now thanks to the summer sale, maybe get back to playing Fantasy Life until I get to Al Majiik (though I forgot how tedious it is to grind for jobs). Just man. While I'm sad there's no FEMC for the P3 remake, I'm still super excited for it

Though with that being said it feels weird to buy games I already own just on different consoles. It'd be one thing if there were remakes/reboots, but nah. I just have Nier on both PS4 and Steam now. Game collecting's a weird hobby, but one I enjoy nonetheless

Other Stuff:

Anxiety spiked a bit today after seeing discourse start to pop up here again & cringing at past mistakes I've made, hence the checkup post you see now

While I'm cool with my job, I don't like how it consumes so much of my free time/energy. If I can get paid enough to work 4 days without me having to do 10 hour work days, that'd be pretty neat

Barbie movie's in a few weeks oh boy

Another con's happening at the end of the month, but it will be like 3 hours away. Gonna go with a friend then but hopefully my car sickness doesn't kill me.

Then the next con I definitely want to go to is in September

And after that I'm gonna see Hadestown with another friend

Not sure what to do for a Halloween shindig with friends. And it might be the brainrot talking but I kinda wanna go as Shinjiro from Persona 3? Though I also want my coworkers to recognize my costume, so I might need to start looking for Vampire Hunter D attire now.

THUS ENDS THE CHECKUP!

[sepublic]

Honestly, it’s no wonder that of all the incidents to incite the return of Gus’ hallucinations, it was this; Almost losing his illusions forever, after having finally affirmed his love and desire to continue them.

That’s just so cruelly ironic, as is Adrian trying to trick the kids into locking away their own magic by claiming he’s preventing that, trying to take the new magic tracks away from the multi-track kids who just got them, like Edric... But Gus is a particularly messed up example, because at least the other kids are stuck to the tracks they were already learning and mostly chose, at the very least. Even Ed would’ve been bound back to illusions, which he DID enjoy and was good at, and already had the most experience in!

Gus was about to lose all that. He’s never shown any interest in Abominations nor do I think he’s ever intended to, and his friend was Willow, who hated that track during her entire time there and didn’t do very well in it, either. You may as well have taken Gus’ magic away from him entirely in that moment... To be blunt, if that were me; If I were to lose my own personal passion of life, and not even get to keep it as a hobby from whenever I take a break from my actual job? I’d legit be depressed to a dangerous extent, and I’m not throwing that claim around like a person with no experience in it.

Gus already thinks that the only thing he’s good for to others is his magic, or at least that’s what he’s been conditioned and has been unlearning (if his magic isn’t good enough then he isn’t either, hence his angst over illusions as too weak to impress). But in the end it’s hard to shake off the idea that Gus’ magic is all people ever want out of him, like that slacking classmate, or the Glandus kids whom he tried to prove his strength to via glyphs. He’s just trying to impress potential friends, so losing that sign of self-worth, both in a toxic but also chosen way, would’ve been additionally devastating.

And the only reason Adrian did that was because he was salty that Gus saw through his illusion. As an illusionist, Adrian should appreciate the other members of his field more, given how they’re looked down upon, he should be actively cultivating that skillset, especially amongst a teen prodigy smart enough to see through him! But Adrian doesn’t actually care about cultivating illusions, nor about encouraging others to do so. He’s a sellout and traitor to his own practice and others, and knowing Graye I wouldn’t be surprised if he was lowkey threatened by Gus and didn’t want this child outdoing him, and so opted to cut that away entirely; Casually deciding that right off the bat with zero hesitation nor shame.

Compare that to Gus who DOES unconditionally love illusions and wants others to appreciate them, succeeded in getting Mattholomule to do so! Graye would’ve been his coven head, so that must’ve felt like a betrayal on top of another betrayal... That being Adrian pretending to be on the rebels’ side. And I can see this being the final straw on the camel’s back for Gus after so many breaches of trust lately. When his entire livelihood and passion is on the line here, I can see why Gus’ fight or flight flared so strongly here and not before; Plus I imagine it was a gradual buildup to this sort of breakdown as well.

[nightingaelic]

Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)

TW: Blood (maybe obviously)

Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers

The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.

On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.

The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"

"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."

With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"

The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."

Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."

"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"

That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."

"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."

Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.

Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.

A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.

"Boone, can you just-"

"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."

The courier took a deep breath. "71."

"What?"

"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."

Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.

Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"

The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."

"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."

With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."

"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."

The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."

"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"

"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."

"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."

"Yep."

"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"

The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"

"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."

"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"

"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.

Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"

"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."

She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.

"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"

The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"

"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"

"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"

"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."

"Whose blood have you taken?"

"This isn't about me, Six!"

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.

"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."

ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.

"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."

Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.

"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.

Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.

"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."

Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."

"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."

"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."

The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."

"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."

"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."

Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."

"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."

"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."

The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."

Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."

Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."

"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."

"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."

"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.

"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."

The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."

And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.

He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.

Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"

"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."

"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"

"The very same."

"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."

"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."

Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."

He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.

The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.

"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.

"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.

"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"

The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."

"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"

"Yes."

Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."

Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"

The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."

"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"

"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.

"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.

"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"

The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.

[maddiesbookshelves]

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao (November 2021)

The boys of Huaxia dream of pairing up with girls to pilot Chrysalises, giant transforming robots that can battle the mecha aliens that lurk beyond the Great Wall. It doesn't matter that the girls often die from the mental strain.

When 18-year-old Zetian offers herself up as a concubine-pilot, it's to assassinate the ace male pilot responsible for her sister's death. But she gets her vengeance in a way nobody expected—she kills him through the psychic link between pilots and emerges from the cockpit unscathed. She is labeled an Iron Widow, a much-feared and much-silenced kind of female pilot who can sacrifice boys to power up Chrysalises instead.​

To tame her unnerving yet invaluable mental strength, she is paired up with Li Shimin, the strongest and most controversial male pilot in Huaxia​. But now that Zetian has had a taste of power, she will not cower so easily. She will miss no opportunity to leverage their combined might and infamy to survive attempt after attempt on her life, until she can figure out exactly why the pilot system works in its misogynist way—and stop more girls from being sacrificed.

Would I recommand it to anyone? YES. It's a great mix between Pacific Rim and The Handmaid's Tale in a sci-fi-ed ancient China with a queer romance and an absolutely badass MC.

Level of (dis)satisfaction based on the summary and my expectations? I had seen this book around I Ithought it was going to be meh, but then I started watching Xiran Jay Zhao's videos, and more specifically the ones on Wu Zetian's life, how she inspired them for this book and I thought "ok, I need to read this thing, it sounds amazing". I was scared the hype would be too high for the book, but it wasn't the case at all.

My thoughts on it? There are books where you can easily guess the resolution and you're bored until the end because it's too obvious, and then there are books that manage to keep the suspense for 400 pages even if you've already guessed some of the key elements by page 10. This is Iron Widow. Really, I loved it, seeing an MC this savage had an almost cathartic effect. If Zetian's feet weren't this broken, she would be unstoppable, it's amazing. It was also really satisfying to read a story with a real love triangle, not just an angle, because XJZ knows no fear and wrote a poly romance. I really loved this book, the action was written well, the characters each had their own roles and personnalities. There was some humor but it worked well with the story, it didn't feel out of place. I also really felt the influence of The Internet, but I didn't mind, it made me laugh. Anyways, I only have good things to say about this book. I can't wait to get my hands on book 2 and I am absolutely going to read XJZ's other book coming out in May, which is a mix between Percy Jackson and an isekai.

CW mentionned at the beginning of the book: suicide ideation, abuse, discussion of and reference to sexual assault (not described in the book but mentionned), alcohol addiction and torture.

French version under the cut

Les garçons de Huaxia rêvent de s'associer avec des filles pour piloter les Chrysalides, de gigantesques robots capables de se transformer pour combattre les aliens mecha qui rôdent au-delà de la Grande Muraille. Que l'effort mental tue les filles n'a aucune importance.

Lorsque Zetian, âgée de 18 ans, se donne en tant que pilote-concubine, c'est pour assassiner le pilote champion responsable de la mort de sa sœur. Seulement, elle obtient sa vengeance d'une manière à laquelle personne ne s'attendait : elle le tue via le lien psychique entre pilotes et émerge indemne du cockpit. Elle est classifiée comme une Iron Widow (Veuve de Fer), un type de pilotes féminin particulièrement craint et gardé sous silence, qui peuvent sacrifier des garçons pour booster les Chrysalides.

Pour dompter sa dérangeante et pourtant inestimable force mentale, elle est assignée à Li Shimin, le plus fort et le plus controversé des pilotes masculins de Huaxia. Mais maintenant que Zetian a goûté au pouvoir, elle ne battra pas en retraite si facilement. Elle ne manquera aucune opportunité de prendre avantage de leur puissance et infamie combinées pour survivre tentative après tentative d'assassinat, jusqu'à ce qu'elle découvre pourquoi le système de pilotes marche d'une manière aussi misogyne - et pour empêcher que d'autres filles soient sacrifiées.

Est-ce que tu le conseillerais à quelqu’un ? OUI. C'est un gros mélange entre Pacific Rim et La Servante Ecarlate, dans une Chine ancienne mais version sci-fi avec une romance queer et une protagoniste absolument badass.

Niveau de déception/satisfaction par rapport au résumé et tes attentes ? J'avais vu passer ce livre et je m'étais dis que ça allait être meh, puis j'ai commencé à regarder les vidéos de Xiran Jay Zhao, notamment son explication de la vie de Wu Zetian et comment elle a inspiré son livre et je me suis dit "ok il faut que je lise ce truc, ça a l'air super". J'avais peur que ma hype soit un peu trop grande et au final j'ai adoré.

Avis sans spoiler ? Y'a des livres dont tu devines facilement la résolution et tu t'ennuies jusqu'à la fin parce que c'est trop évident, puis y'a les livres qui arrivent à te tenir en haleine pendant 400 pages même si tu devines des éléments de la fin au bout de la page 10. Ça c'est Iron Widow. Vraiment, j'ai adoré, ça a un effet presque cathartique de voir une protagoniste absolument sauvage, si Zetian avait pas les pieds défoncés rien ne pourrait l'arrêter, c'est magnifique. C'était aussi extrêmement satisfaisant de lire une histoire avec un VRAI triangle amoureux, pas juste un angle, parce que XJZ n'a peur de rien et a écrit une romance poly. J'ai vraiment adoré ce livre, l'action était vraiment bien gérée, les personnages avaient leur rôle et leur personnalité respective. Y'avait de l'humour mais ça mâchait avec l'histoire, c'était pas à des moments où ça n'avait pas lieu d'être. J'ai aussi énormément senti l'influence de L'Internet, mais c'était pas vraiment dérangeant, perso ça m'a fait rire. Bref j'ai que des bonnes choses à dire sur ce livre. J'ai hâte d'avoir la suite entre les mains et je vais totalement lire l'autre livre de XJZ qui va sortir en mai et qui est un mélange entre Percy Jackson et un isekai.

CW mentionnés au début du livre : idéation du suicide, maltraitance, discussion et mention d'agression sexuelle (pas décrite dans le livre mais mentionnée), addiction à l'alcool et torture

[lluvguts]

all better // reddie

pairing: teen!richie tozier / eddie kaspbrak

genre/warnings: fluff and angst, trauma, h/c

word count: 2111

summary:  Eddie has a bad day and Richie does his best to cheer him up.

check out my ao3

It’s just Richie’s front door.  

But no amount of convincing worked for Eddie’s mind as the sight of it warped into the small door in the sewer...With the grotesque face of the leper staring back at him. As he stared at the Tozier’s oak door he swore he saw a thick trickle of blood seep from the threshold and hear the sound of sickly, rasping breath from inside the hollow door. Just a few more moments and he’d be face to face with It..

It’s dark out, he told himself. That’s why I’m seeing things. But I’m here, Richie’s here. I’m safe. No need to be scared.

But that didn’t stop the nightmares that assailed him all night long—ever since they defeated It—keeping Eddie wide awake and strangled in worry for what could be lurking in the murky blackness outside. Eddie’s mother had caught on to his insomnia since the first week, making him take all sorts of supplements and medicine claiming to be a “sleep aid.” They did nothing to keep the images at bay. The noises. He only slept well on nights when Richie snuck over, or when Eddie drove to his house.

Richie could never know.

Eddie shook his head and knocked again. His eyes searched the window with its drawn curtains. I did tell him I’m coming, right?

But then the lock swung back and the door opened, showing the face that soothed all his worries. Richie grabbed Eddie’s arm and brought him in for a hug. He was suddenly pulled into Richie’s open chest and the familiar stink of cigarettes and black tea consumed him. It was a bold and comforting smell, one that Eddie loved. It made his nerves settle and for Eddie was unmistakably Richie Tozier.

“You look like shit, Eds,” Richie held him tightly, “On the phone you said it was a bad day, right?”

Eddie nodded against his shirt and they pulled away. I’m not entirely wrong. It was a bad day. He just doesn’t need to know exactly why. And that was the great thing about Richie: he didn’t need an explanation. He was more than happy to let his boyfriend curl up in his arms, his face still burning from fearful tears while Richie whispered little jokes or Voices in his ear until Eddie wiped his eyes and laughed. Most of the time they weren’t even funny.

“That’s alright, Eds. I’ll fix us some dinner, yeah?”

“You can cook?” Eddie followed Richie into the kitchen and sat on an island chair.

Richie pouted at him, his lower lip sticking out. “Don’t be hateful, sweetheart. Of course the Trashmouth can cook.”

“What’s on the menu then, Chef Tozier?”

“You’ll see.” Richie laughed and rummaged through the pantry.

Eddie glanced around the empty kitchen, not a single sound filled the house—except of course for Richie banging around looking for a stove pot.

“No parents?"

"Nope. My folks are out of town for the weekend, some family thing.” Richie said, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand.

“And they left you alone?” Eddie asked, unable to help the smile that drifted into his voice.

“I’m seventeen. I don’t need constant supervision.” Richie growled.

Eddie pointed to him. “Yet you were about to pour marinara sauce into a pasta strainer.”  

“Okay, scratch that. I’ll always need you, Eddie my love...Plus I promised them I wouldn’t burn the house down.”

“What on Earth are you doing with all that?” Eddie caught sight of two boxes of macaroni, lettuce, and red sauce.

He tried to stifle his giggling, but it was useless. “Rich, are you trying to make spaghetti?”

“Maybe.” He replied defiantly with an embarrassed blush.

“With iceberg lettuce?”  

Richie inspected his ingredients again with his eyebrows raised, his eyes looked more doubtful now from beneath his glasses. “..That’s a thing, right?”

Eddie sighed and joined him at the counter. “You’re hopeless, Richie. Give me that ladle,” He loosely gestured to the wooden spoon next to him while putting back the lettuce.

“This is the wrong type of noodle.” Eddie held up the box of pasta while the marinara sauce simmered on the stove—the one thing Richie had done correctly.

Richie snorted and put his hands on his hips. “Not everything can be perfect like you.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and let Richie’s arms snake around his waist. “Okay, fine. Macaroni it is.”

He waddled over to the sink—with Richie still attached from behind—to pour water into the pot. As he let the faucet run Richie bent down and kissed his bare neck softly, his glasses poking into his skin.

Eddie stiffened. “What was that for?”

“For helping me with dinner. For being cute. Why, can’t I kiss you just because?”

“Of course you can. You’re just..distracting.”

“Oh? You mean like this?” Richie laughed and placed a trail of teasing kisses up his neck, making Eddie grip the handles of the pot tighter while he fought to breathe. He knows just where to kiss me.

“Am I distracting you now?” His mouth rested just above the space between Eddie’s jaw and earlobe, his warm lips and breath tickling him. One of Richie’s hands drifted down toward his pants and Eddie stepped on his bare foot.

“Cut it out Richie,” Eddie gasped. He realized in his daze that the pot of water was about to overflow and quickly shut it off. He carried it to the stove and set it to boil, then poured in the macaroni noodles.

He turned to him. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

Richie returned his hands to his sides and smirked. “Awe, shucks. To think I have that effect on people.”

“Only me, dipshit.”

“And that’s just fine,” Richie pecked his cheek and hugged him again.

“Feeling any better, Eds?”

“After some dinner I will be.” Eddie replied while wrestling out of the bear hug to set two plates on the tile counter. Richie drained the pasta and Eddie turned off the burners.

“Like mother, like son.” Richie said philosophically at the sink.

“Be quiet,” Eddie gave his chest a playful shove and handed him the food. They sat at the table on opposite sides, and just as he was about to eat Richie stuck his fork at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Letting you try some!” Richie pushed the fork further towards Eddie’s mouth.

“I have some right here,” He gestured to his own full plate, “And you’ve been eating off that already.”

Before he could pull his fork away a few stray pieces of macaroni slipped off the fork and fell across Eddie’s shirt, staining the front with oily red sauce. Richie’s eyes widened, and he drew the fork back guiltily.

“Gross!”

“Oh, shit. Sorry Eddie! I’ll go get one of mine!” He hopped off the chair and dashed up the stairs. Eddie took the chance to eat some of the “spaghetti” before Richie returned with a fresh shirt.

“I am not wearing that,” Eddie said firmly, picking the noodles off his lap and into his empty plate.

“Just take that off and put on mine. It’s mostly clean, don’t worry. I’ll wash yours.” Richie held his shirt out to him, waiting with closed eyes for the dirty one. Eddie diverted his eyes and pulled his shirt up over his head. He threw Richie’s on hurriedly, his face was red the whole time. God, it smells just like him.

“Okay, you’re good.” Eddie told him and he opened his eyes. Richie examined him wearing his own clothes then flashed a grin.

“Why do my clothes look better on you? And the Cutie Award goes to..”

Eddie thrust the stained shirt at him. “My ass.”

“He’s not wrong, folks!” Richie shouted into the empty hallway as he went back upstairs to the laundry room.

“You want me to clean this up?” Eddie called. Richie had left a trail of dirty dishes and stray pasta noodles in his wake as they had cooked, not caring to pick up.

“Just come up here! We’ll do it later.” came his reply. By “later,” Eddie knew he meant “tomorrow.”

Eddie headed up the stairs and sat on Richie’s bed, waiting for him. Even without him there—just for a few seconds—the thoughts came racing back, like a flip of a switch, no matter if things were happy and easygoing minutes before.

He was no longer in Richie’s room. He was on the burning asphalt with a broken arm, he was running through the yard of the Neibolt house, desperate and out of breath. He was staring directly in the face of Henry Bowers, his entire arm engulfed in flames as searing as a hot iron with Patrick’s spit stuck in his eyes. He was reliving every memory.

“...Eds? What is it? What happened?” Richie appeared in the doorway but Eddie could hardly see him through the haze; he only heard his footsteps thundering in his head as he came to his side, taking his face and forcing him to look into his chocolate brown eyes.

“Eddie? Talk to me, please,” Richie was pleading, sitting down next to Eddie and keeping his hands placed firmly on his shoulders, helping to relieve his staggered breathing.

“It hurts,” Eddie said weakly but his words got choked up in a fresh wave of tears.

“Where, baby? Where does it hurt?” He searched his face and scanned his body frantically.

“God, Richie. My head..the memories, it hurts so much. They never went away,” He cried, truly feeling every ounce of that childhood pain. Richie grabbed his sides and pulled him into his lap, his face set into a hard, serious frown that left Eddie startled.

He’s always been there for me.

“N-no,” Eddie tried moving away, “I’ve been crying..It’s gross, Rich. Let me go wash my face or something.” He sniffed loudly.

“Shhh,” Richie shook his head and held him more fiercely, Eddie could feel the beating of their hearts together against his chest. He closed his eyes and counted each rhythmic thump of Richie’s heartbeat until he could breathe again.

He brought his face to Eddie’s cheek, wet with tears, and kissed him.

“Let me make it better,” Richie whispered. He moved his lips to tenderly kiss every spot on Eddie’s face: each tear, his pink nose, his eyelids.

“It’s gone, we killed It, everything’s alright now,” He kept his lips pressed to Eddie’s temple, and as he did the ache there subsided, “You’re safe with me, Eds.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “You’re such a sap, Richie.”

“Only for you.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes with Richie running his hands through Eddie’s hair. He loved when Richie did this, when his gentle fingers sent shivers down his spine. His comforting touch made different tears slide down Eddie’s face.

“Is it still there? Did the nightmares go away?” Richie asked with another twinge of concern when he felt Eddie crying quietly again into his shoulder.

Eddie tucked his face into the crook of his neck to hide the embarrassment and mumbled, “No, they w-went away.”

“What’s wrong? Why are you still crying, Eddie?” Richie leaned against the headboard so he could see the smaller boy’s face and he cradled the back of his hair.

“I’ve never had someone be so..kind to me before. Not like this. No one would ever do the things you’re always doing for me. I-I don’t think I deserve it.”

Richie lifted Eddie’s legs up higher so he was more comfortable and the smaller boy snuggled in. He spoke with his chin resting on top of his head, “I know I’m kind of an ass most of the time, but I don’t mean to be. I’m always looking out for you Eds, even when you think I’m not...It’s cause I love you.”

Those three words silenced everything and left Eddie blissfully calm—despite his frantic heart.

He loves me?  

Eddie questioned it as soon as he said it, but after thinking it over he knew Richie wasn’t lying.

Who else would clean me up after a panic attack, or wake me from a nightmare, even if I was covered in sweat and tears and who knows what else? Who else would hold me the rest of the night, even if it meant he didn’t sleep?  

“I love you too,” Eddie said against his neck. And then, after a thoughtful pause,

“But don’t call me Eds.”  

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Introducing My Fallout OCs!

OMGGGG y’all, I can’t. I’ve apparently reached over 200 of you fantabulous followers and I am so ecstatic! I honestly don’t even know if this is considered a milestone or anything, but I was super psyched, so I'm doing something about it, dang it!

Also, just a heads up on me right now, I just started school again, so my posting miiiiiiight be a bit sporadic every now and then, but I’m determined to still try and get a few posts out every week, so we’ll see how that goes. I’m also pretty backed up on requests at the moment, I’m still accepting them for the time being, but I may turn off my asks if I’m finding difficulty getting to everyone.  

Anyways, I know I don’t ever really talk about my Fallout Original Characters, but I’m thinking of doing some stuff with them in the future, so this seemed like a good place to start  🤷‍♀️ So, here they are! One from each of the 3 FO games I write for. If ya’ll want to send in any asks about these folks, please feel free to do so! 

(Art for these peeps is pending potentially as well).

My Lone Wanderer: Hope

Appearance: 

- Basically like a black-haired, blue eyed Sarah Connor (y’know, from Terminator), she’s got a small frame, but is an absolute beast. She loves to change up her hair, but prefers the iron maiden, unladylike, or rude ridge styles and will often dye it bright-ass colors, cuz why not? She’s pretty pale considering the vault background and the fact she is constantly wearing full body combat or leather armor when she’s outdoors, and she has a few piercings she actually got before leaving the vault. 

What’s in a Name: 

- “Hope” was the name that her parents chose for her before she was even born, but she can’t stand it, she just tends to see it as a cruel joke in the world they live in. She instead goes by Effie (short for Ephialtes, cuz she’s edgy and dramatic and read too much in school). Hope tends not to tell anyone her real name, and if she does, you’d best not use it to refer to her, unless you like being enslaved. The only one who could ever get away with it is Jericho and a select few people from the vault (Stanley, and her father, but she’s still not happy about it.)

Sexuality: 

- Pansexual

Main Companion: 

- Jericho

Relationship(s): 

- She has a sort of “friends with benefits” type situation going with Jericho, but it ends up getting... complicated, and turning somewhat into a relationship.

Bestie(s):

- Even though he’s her boss, Hope likes to hang out with Eulogy when she’s in Paradise Falls. When she was in the vault, she spent a lot of time with Stanley, and was pretty close with Butch, Wally, and Paul as well. 

Fam Dam: 

- James and Catherine are/were her parents (obviously). But she also considered Stanley to be a sort of uncle to her. 

Karma: 

- Oh, the worst. She’s honestly awful. She steals, she murders, she enslaves, she blows up settlements, all of it. She’s got a lot of things she needs to work out...

Faction of Choice: 

- The Slavers of Paradise Falls. (Yeah... she sucks.) The Brotherhood and the Outcasts just never really struck her fancy, and her and Jericho found it was easy to make bank with the slavers. Hope also is a friend to Allistair Tenpenny and Mister Burke... and not the folks in Megaton. Cuz they’re all not really alive.

Vault Occupation: 

- Engineer

Fun Fact!:  

- Hope is really bad with empathy, and absolutely needs to experience something for herself before she can make any sort of judgement on it, or other people who have had that same experience.

My Courier Six: Sage

Appearence: 

- Sage doesn’t really consider herself very “flashy” in comparison to most folks in NV. She’s got shoulder length brown hair (blast back or clean cut style) and brownish-hazel eyes. She’s pretty damn tan (Mojave, you know) and doesn’t have many scars, but the ones on the right side of her forehead clearly indicate where she was shot in the head (thanks, Benny). She and Boone tend to twin quite a bit, with matching red berets and sunglasses.

What’s in a Name: 

- The poor girl has no clue what her real name was before she was shot, but she saw a box of labelled herbs in Doc Mitchell’s house when she was recovering from her headwounds and decided she liked the name “Sage.”

Sexuality: 

- Bisexual

Main Companion: 

- Craig Boone

Relationship: 

- Also Boone :) it’s a pretty darn slow-burn romance with lots of bumps along the way, but their love always seems to prevail. (Gross and sappy, I know)

Bestie(s): 

- Arcade, plus Rex, and ED-E. Also Victor and Doc Mitchell.

Fam Dam: 

- No clue, unfortunately. She eventually tries to find out something about her past and her family, if she has any, but she’s got a few things to deal with first (hint, one rhymes with pleaser’s fleegion).

Karma: 

- She may make mistakes along the way, but Sage really does try her best to be as good as possible. 

Faction of Choice: 

- Mr. House and the Followers of the Apocalypse. Would like to get rid of House, but can't bring herself to become responsible for everything once he's gone. She considers herself his personal empathy and tries to assist with the goings on of the Mojave even after the battle of hoover dam. Fucking wiped out everyone in the Legion. Her and Boone are a force to be reckoned with. And she never really cared much for the Brotherhood since she had such little interaction with them. She has a good relationship with Freeside and most of the settlements/other towns as well.

Previous Occupation: 

- Courier? She has no idea what else. But she’s oddly really good with medicine 🤔

Fun Fact!: 

- She supports Mr. House for a number of reasons, but one of the biggest is that she doesn't want to lose Victor. He saved her, and she considers the securitron to be her oldest friend (besides Doc Mitchell). She knows it's a little selfish, but she can't bring herself to put an end to him after he pulled her from her own grave and helped bring her back from the brink of death.

My Sole Survivor: Jolene Arvanidis-Ryan

Appearence: 

- She’s got auburn hair she usually keeps cut short (clean cut) or in a bun, green eyes, pale skin with a good amount of freckles and has exceptionally straight teeth (braces suck, but you know.) When traveling with Cait, people tend to think they’re related. Jolene tends to wear a black beret and, if she has the time and resources, she likes cat eye style eyeliner. 

What’s in a Name: 

- Her first name runs in the family... plus her dad really liked Dolly Parton, so that helped cement the first name for him. Nate’s last name was Arvanidis, and she tends to use that as her last name exclusively, she rarely reveals her maiden name (Ryan) to anyone. 

Sexuality: 

- Straight

Main Companion: 

- Paladin Danse

Relationship: 

- It takes a long time (post BB), but she ends up being with Danse. 

Bestie(s): 

- MacCready and Cait

Fam Dam:  

- Pre-war, her father was a carpenter and her mother was a major in the US military, she had no siblings and was very close with her father since her mom was often away on deployment. 

Karma: 

- Decent. Tries her best to do what’s “right,” but she sometimes has a hard time determining what that is. Is good at following orders, even if she doesn’t always agree with them (BB is the exception in this case).

Faction of Choice: 

- Brotherhood of Steel, at least until BB, then she tends to focus more on the Minutemen, but still stays by the BOS’s side when it comes to taking down the Institute. Despite her loyalty to the BOS, she always regrets what she did to the Railroad, and how she ended things with the Institute, and she holds quite a bit of resentment towards Elder Maxson for ordering her to pull the trigger that ended her son’s life, and the other lives within the Institute. 

Previous Occupation (Pre-War): 

- She was a Gunnery Sergeant in the US Military. (Trying to follow in her mother’s footsteps).

Fun Fact!: 

- She hates killing feral ghouls, but keeps it under wraps since she tends to travel with MacCready and Danse the most. After that random encounter where she found herself murdering her own neighbors, she can’t bring herself to look into the eyes of any feral ghouls she has to kill. 

Bonus! Fun Fact!:  

- She started out as my sort of "throw away" playthrough where I wanted to do a BOS run, just out of curiosity, but she ended up being my main playthrough… probably because Danse is just the best and I can't get enough of that tin can thesaur-ass.

[mellometal]

WHAT'S GOING ON? THIS IS PART TWO OF ME RIPPING APART DHAR MANN'S VIDEOS ABOUT FATPHOBIA! Whoo-hoo!

Before I get started, here's an obligatory trigger warning: This post will be talking about fatphobia, bullying, homelessness, mentioned ED, fat shaming, shaming a person FOR EATING, and the abused thanking his abuser AS AN ADULT for tormenting him as a young, impressionable teenage boy.

If any of that is triggering, upsetting, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. Please consume media that sparks joy for you.

This time, there won't be a response from me about this video, like I usually do with all my Dhar Mann posts. If you want to see my response, refer to my first post about fatphobia (the one about the plus-size woman being fat shamed). It does tie in with this post, as my thoughts on this video are the exact same here. Yes, even though this is about a (at the time) plus-size black teenage boy being targeted. Search for the "dhar mann talk" tag and it's one of the most recent posts. I don't believe anyone should be shamed for their weight. Your weight doesn't hold any significance to your worth as a person. Don't let anything or anyone tell you otherwise.

With all of that out of the way, let's get to the video!

To sum up the video, it starts out with a plus-size black teenage boy (Kurt or "Big Boy", as he's called almost throughout the entire video) who's on a basketball court at school with his friend (Mike), a few other teenage boys, and Mike's uncle (Frank) is their coach. Mike is the captain on one team, Frank is the captain on the other team. They're picking teammates, and everyone is on a team except for Kurt and another boy. Frank says to his nephew to not pick Kurt (he called him "Big Boy" instead) because "he'd never win with him". LIKE THEY WERE PLAYING FOR THE NBA. CALM YOUR DICK. HOLY FUCKING HELL. THEY'RE KIDS.

Mike, not listening to his uncle (good for him), picks Kurt anyway. Kurt is happy and thanks his friend for picking him. Mike gives Kurt a shirt that looks at least a couple sizes too small for him and would be pretty uncomfortable to wear. This isn't Mike's fault, obviously. Kurt politely asks if they had a bigger shirt. Obviously not an unreasonable request. They're playing a sport that requires lots of movement (honestly, pretty much any sport would apply here, except for maybe golf or cricket) so it's understandable to want to at least be comfortable and have room to move around. Frank mocks A LITERAL TEENAGER with the whole "You think you're shopping at Big&Tall?" line and then says that's the only size they had (why couldn't they supply inclusive sizes in the first place, or at least ASK Kurt what his size was IN ADVANCE?), which....umm, I'm actually GLAD plus-size clothing for men (Big&Tall, in this case) is more readily available and accessible now. I'm happy plus-size clothing in GENERAL is like that now.

Mike comforts Kurt and says the shirt might fit. The shirt does KIND OF fit Kurt, but it's obvious he's uncomfortable. Look at this screenshot here:

Frank laughs at Kurt, says he looks like Barney The Dinosaur, and the other kids laugh along with their coach. This is NOT setting a good example for children, Frank. You're a fucking teacher. You're a COACH. You're supposed to be teaching these kids about sports and shit. You're supposed to be setting a good example for these kids about teamwork and sportsmanship. WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO A TEENAGE BOY, WHO IS MOST LIKELY ONE OF YOUR STUDENTS, IS TEACHING NONE OF THOSE THINGS. You're teaching these kids that bullying their peers for things they can't help having is okay. Do better. (I'd say that he's an adult and should act like one, but I'm an adult and I barely act like one a lot of the time, so that'd make me a hypocrite.)

While I may be fortunate to have had a physical education teacher who never bashed on me or shamed me for my weight and she would cheer me on for whatever amount of effort I made the first and only year I had actual P.E., I know that many other kids who are plus-size most likely has/had horrible P.E. teachers or coaches like Frank.

To anyone who has/had a teacher or coach like Frank, I'm so sorry, kiddos. You don't deserve to be bullied by your own teachers. I wish I could give all of you a hug, but I can give y'all virtual hugs instead! *virtual hugs* /p

So they play a game of basketball, and Kurt is struggling to fully play because the shirt he was given was probably cutting off some circulation, especially in his arms (again, do I need to reiterate that this was NOT Mike's fault and is FRANK'S fault for his ignorance and negligence). Frank mocks his nephew Mike by saying that he told him not to pick Kurt. Why? Because according to him, Kurt will never make anything of himself in life due to him being fat. (AGAIN, THIS IS NOT TRUE.)

Then it cuts to Kurt sitting with Mike, who's working on his car and Kurt's working on his own thing. Mike says he believes one day he'll own a nice, brand new Cadillac. Kurt is very supportive and cheers his friend on. He says that he believes he'll be one of the biggest radio show hosts and has a title for it called "Big Boy's Neighborhood". Both of them are hyping each other up. Love to see men supporting men. Mike pulls out his Walkman (they were HUGE back in the 80s and 90s because you could listen to the radio from anywhere, I have a Sony Walkman mp3 player, but it's a newer model), and Kurt says that he's always wanted one but couldn't afford it. (I'll go into why in a second.)

Frank comes over to reprimand Mike, who has done NOTHING WRONG, for talking to Kurt. Instead of working, which Mike WAS actually doing. He tries to tell his uncle this, but he wasn't having it. Frank then reprimands Kurt, who also has done NOTHING WRONG, for just sitting and apparently "distracting Mike" (he wasn't). He asks if there's any work he was supposed to do. Kurt FINALLY stands up to Frank in a polite, mature manner. He says that just because he wasn't working with his hands, it didn't mean he wasn't working. Frank ridicules Kurt some more, Mike tells his uncle to leave his friend alone, and Kurt stands up to Frank AGAIN, still being polite and mature. UNLIKE THE ACTUAL ADULT ACTING LIKE A CLICHÉ MIDDLE SCHOOL BULLY WHO PROBABLY PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOL. How fucking ironic.

What does Frank do in response to Kurt standing up to him? INSULTS THE KID SOME MORE. He tells Kurt that he must have "pig fat for brains" (which is not only insulting to Kurt, but also insulting to pigs, because pigs are intelligent animals), takes his small bag of Doritos, and says that he "doesn't need to be eating anything." He eats Kurt's Doritos IN FRONT OF HIM, tells Mike to quit letting his friend make him lazy (he wasn't doing that at all), and to get back to work.

THAT line made me livid. I've actually thought that I didn't deserve to eat anything because I'm plus-size as a teenager, and into my adulthood at a few points in my life. NEVER say that someone doesn't need to be eating anything. (Obviously except for poisonous things, inedible objects, and things that could and will kill them.) You could cause them to develop an ED, or trigger an ED if they already have one. THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING. EDs are no joke. Whether it be starving, purging, or binge eating, none of them are fun to have and/or to deal with. Even if they DON'T develop an ED, their relationship with food will be all sorts of fucky-wucky. Some even for the rest of their lives. Unless you get proper treatment, of course.

When Frank leaves, Kurt is obviously upset. Rightfully so. How he's feeling is justified. Mike comforts him and says to not let Frank get to him. Mike offers to take Kurt home, but then realizes that his friend and his mom got evicted and are homeless. (This is why Kurt couldn't afford to buy a Walkman.) Kurt, still distraught, says that he'll just walk. Mike invites him over for dinner and that he'd drop him off after, which Kurt agrees to.

They're at Mike's house, having dinner, and Mike's parents are talking to Kurt. They're being supportive. Frank walks in to have his sister's cooking. He sees that Kurt's there. Mike's parents introduce Frank to Kurt, tells him Kurt's gonna be on the radio one day, Frank laughs and says Kurt's not gonna be anything. Kurt brushes it off. He says that his mom says that he can achieve whatever he wants (which is true, to a reasonable extent), Frank cuts him off and says his mom was lying to him, and that his mom knows he's gonna be a big loser.

Mike's dad tells Frank to leave Kurt alone. Mike's mom also says the same thing. Frank asks Kurt if his mom doesn't feed him at home, and what he was doing "eating up all their food" (he wasn't; he just had a singular plate). Mike and his mom tell Frank to stop. His mom explains that they invited Kurt over for dinner, and she tells her brother to sit down and eat. Frank then asks Kurt again if his mom doesn't feed him at home. Mike tells Frank that Kurt and his mom don't have a home because they just got evicted, which is a shock to the parents. Instead of having sympathy for a teenage boy who was on the streets with his mom, HE MOCKS HIM. WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT? Especially to a teenage boy who didn't do anything whatsoever to deserve being evicted from his home and be out on the streets with his mom. I've dealt with being evicted. I've dealt with homelessness. Out of no fault of my own. It's not funny, cool, glamorous, or anything like that. It's terrifying. I'm still traumatized by that experience and it happened four years ago. Sometimes I have nightmares about that kind of thing. The very possibility of becoming homeless and going through that again scares the shit out of me. The thought of it is so triggering for me that I will resort to reverting back to things I used to do when I was a kid. It also doesn't help that I will NEVER be able to afford an apartment on my own where I live now and will probably have to rely on at least two or three roommates and/or family to get by. Thanks a lot, Boomers.

I would never wish what I went through on anyone. Anyways, back to the whole summary of the video.

Kurt gets up and leaves the table. Mike tries to go after his friend to make sure he was okay, but Frank stops his nephew. ONLY WHEN KURT LEAVES DOES FRANK ALL NONCHALANTLY SAY THAT HE'S STARVING AND THAT THEY SHOULD ALL EAT. Despite Frank making Kurt as well as his (Frank's) own family upset.

Kurt walks to where his mom is. His mom notices that he's upset. Kurt tells his mom that it's because of Frank. His mom comforts him and gives him the advice that she gave him before. Kurt is still obviously too upset to take anything she's telling him, bringing up that they're homeless and broke, and his mom is desperate to help comfort her son. She gives him his birthday present early, which happens to be a Walkman. Kurt is shocked. He thought they didn't have that kind of money. His mom says not to worry about that. She pokes some lighthearted fun at her son, he thanks her, and he asks her a question. He asks if she believes he'll be successful or if she's saying that to make him feel better. She asks if he believes he'll be successful (yep), and he tells her that when he succeeds, he'll buy them a house so they don't have to be homeless anymore or worry about getting evicted.

Fast forward to adulthood, Kurt becomes a bouncer, meets someone who works at a radio station, and he goes there. Just to have people laughing at him. He's distraught again and leaves the station, thinking that he made a bad decision. Frank happens to come by, see that Kurt was upset, and asks what's wrong. Kurt tells him what happened, and Frank mocks him AGAIN with the same shit he told him when he was a TEENAGE BOY, now as a YOUNG ADULT. He walks off, laughing.

Nice going! /s Kicking Kurt while he's down JUST LIKE OLD TIMES, RIGHT? FUCK YOU.

Kurt then decides that he's gonna lose weight and be the best radio show host. (Toxic much? Why would you try to preach that your weight = your worth as a person? If you're losing weight for yourself, great! I'm happy for you! If you don't want to lose weight, you don't give a fuck about what people say, and you're happy in your own skin, that's awesome too! Do it for yourself, not for anyone's approval. Try to love yourself and accept yourself in any form you're in. Don't fall for the bullshit that you have to be a certain size or look a certain way for you to love and accept yourself. The weight may be gone, but the rest of your issues will still be there. I have to clarify that I meant this in GENERAL, not necessarily for extremities on either side of the spectrum of weight...because there are things you MUST follow.)

Kurt gets back to the station, ignores all the people being assholes, he's doing his thing, and he's climbing up.

Fast forward to when Kurt is middle-aged. He has his own radio show, and he's one of the biggest names in the radio industry. After he finishes up his show, he goes outside to see a couple of young fans. A young black girl with her brother, a plus-size boy. They say how much they love his show, they got his merch, and the boy tells Kurt that he wants to be just like him. The boy doubts himself though because of people abusing him JUST LIKE what Kurt went through. Kurt empathizes with the boy and tells him a little bit about his own experience. Following them is Frank as an old man. They're his grandkids.

Frank recognizes Kurt, and actually apologizes to him for the torment he put him through as a teenager. WHAT A SHOCK. /srs

Kurt takes it with grace, but says that he should be thanking Frank for all the torment. Why? Because it "motivated him". The girl says that she loves that. (Okay, since she's a kid and there's still time for her to change her mind about certain things, I'm not going to be as harsh here. I don't bash on the kids unless they're doing or saying extremely fucked up things willingly. She didn't say this with bad intentions. I understand you're coming from a good place, and I appreciate that, but please hear me out. This wasn't at all like dealing with edgy thirteen year olds on the internet. This man you look up to was abused by your grandfather in his youth. Your brother is experiencing that same torment your idol went through...at a younger age too, it seems like. The kid looks no older than middle school age [ten or eleven at the YOUNGEST to maybe thirteen or fourteen at the OLDEST]. That's a huge problem. Kurt may have "toughed it out", but that might not be the case for your brother. Please don't excuse that kind of behavior.)

Dude...what the actual fuck? I can understand not being bothered by the hate, but this grown ass man literally VERBALLY AND EMOTIONALLY ABUSED YOU AS A YOUNG, IMPRESSIONABLE TEENAGE BOY, CONTINUING INTO ADULTHOOD, and you're THANKING Frank for all of that? Why should you thank your abuser for what he put you through? He didn't contribute ANYTHING to your success. So I guess abuse is a GREAT contribution to people's success now, right? /s It doesn't contribute to anything, in my opinion. Yes, what doesn't kill you can make you stronger, but can we normalize people becoming weaker to a point due to traumatic events? Because they exist. Demonizing survivors who have become weaker to some degree or just flat-out ignoring them isn't helping. You did the thing you wanted to do, Kurt. Frank didn't help you. The person who really helped you was YOU and your mom.

MOVING ON.

The boy asks Kurt if he thinks he'll ever be able to make it as a radio show host. Kurt asks if HE believes that. The boy says he does. Kurt gives him some advice and gives the boy his Walkman. The boy's ecstatic, they leave, and Kurt goes to meet up with his mom.

Keeping to his promise, Kurt bought his mom a house so she'd never be homeless again and never have to worry about being evicted. (HOW LONG WAS SHE HOMELESS FOR? OH MY GOD. THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW. I hope you at least let her stay with you or something. They never went into that, unfortunately.) She's very grateful. The video ends there.

My personal thoughts on the video: Another piss poor video....but worse! Because it was a COLLAB. And based on a true story. Good going with taking this man's story of being abused by a grown adult to exploit for your personal gain, Dhar Mann! WOW. LOVE THAT! Totally a good look. /s

What I took from this video is that if you're plus-size, according to Dhar Mann, you'll apparently NEVER be successful, let alone be taken seriously...which is an absolute lie. There are many plus-size people who are very successful. Another thing I took from the video is that apparently according to Dhar Mann, being verbally and emotionally abused as a teenager by a grown adult all the way into adulthood is "motivation" for you to work harder to reach your goals. (Nice going, Dhar Mann. Justifying grown adults abusing children. Who would've thought? /s)

Oh, and it's like MANDATORY to thank your abusers for tormenting you when you become successful! (Obviously this is an exaggeration. This is me using Dhar Mann's logic against him.) You want to thank them for making you stronger? Fine. You want to spit in their face and say, "Fuck you." to them? Also fine. You want to just never acknowledge them ever again? Totally fine. Whatever you want to do, that's fine by me, but can you not imply that "thanking" your abusers is mandatory in some way?

If you made it this far, thank you! I hope you're having a good morning/day/afternoon/evening/night. Stay safe, y'all. Love you. /p

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Saw a Dean Smith post and had to go off.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Dean Smith is a simple man. An average man. He orders salads from the cafe down the street. Talks to the other people on his floor when he steps out for his coffee. Has a unicorn laugh that errupts from his office on occasion. He’s sociable, competent, and attractive. There’s only one problem all the single women on the floor have with him.

His wife.

The elusive Mrs. Smith—to the office’s knowledge—is a secretary. They met in a smaller office in a smaller town. When they moved to the city, Dean got the job in Sales here at Sandover. The Mrs. Smith has a secretorial position for some small business that Dean isn’t particularly fond of. What—or rather who—Dean is terribly fond of is his wife. It puts a damper on prospecting flirtations.

He’s whipped. He blushes speaking about the better half. He keeps his personal life personal, but he can’t help but to gush about her garden. Speak for minutes on end about her hobbies and beeboxes. She’s terrible and terribly good for him in one fell swoop, all of Sandover collectively agrees. Even if it breaks a few hearts.

It all started when Sharon from Accounting ran into him at the coffeemaker in the break room.

Rumors over at the water cooler say that Sharon had asked Dean what his opinions were on some new paranormal show that her husband is obsessed with. Sam Wesson, a large man for an IT nerd, had suggested documentaries to her. Sharon had appreciated that, as it gave her some attempt to understand her husband’s newfound hobby.

Anyway, Sharon ended up asking Dean about said paranormal show to which Dean replied with a scoffed laugh.

“Ghosts?” He had reportedly chuckled. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” And that’s quoting Sharon from Accounting. If you believe that.

So Mark from Sales who is friends with Maria from Accounting who is in the cubicle next to Sharon asked Dean if he believed in aliens.

“Aliens I believe in,” he allegedly nodded. “We don’t know what’s out there. We do know what’s here, and it’s not ghosts.”

Sam Wesson from IT vehemently disagreed, but such is his way. He’s eccentric and weird.

Then Mark told Carol who told Beck who told Raj who told Ramona that Dean Smith didn’t beleive in ghosts. This would have been an unremarkable gossip circle except that Ramona works in HR, so when the office was planning on throwing Dean Smith, head of Sales, a party, Ramona decided a ghost themed party would be a gag.

It was a gag. It ran over smoothly, of course, and everyone was graced with a unicorn laugh.

“Cas is gonna get a kick out of this,” he reportedly chuckled, holding one of the paper ghosts Becky—also from HR—painstakingly cut. The person next to him was Rufus, an older fellow who has a good comradery with Dean even as much as they butt heads.

“Does Cas believe in ghosts?” Jillian asked the important follow up question.

“Believe?” Dean reportedly grinned. “Cas works for those uh—what are there names. Phantom Chasers.” He snapped his hands, trying recall the name.

Sam Wesson from IT piped up. “Ghostfacers?”

Dean pointed at the gargatuan IT. “Yeah, those guys!” He shook his head. “Cas could’ve got a position at any place, but they were hiring. Says the work ain’t too bad, and the pay might not be too cushy, but it’s better than the last place Cas was pushin’ pencils for.”

There was a sageful nod of apprecation at that. Sandover is not many people’s first stop. The office knows how awful the mountains of paperwork and corporte ladders can be. Dean seems to live comfortably, and seems to make sure Cas—because that’s what Mrs. Smith’s name is—is comfortable too. They went to the fancy lobster place three blocks over for their anniversary.

And the office only knows pieces. Knows that Bobby Smith is Dean’s father. That he was more of a father than Cas’ birth father—some man named Chuck. That Dean’s sister Jo adores Cas—but who doesn’t? Dean often says. It’s an endearing picture, even if after the Ghost Party things get... strange.

“Cas came home with ectoplasm.” He allegedly scoffed. “Do you know how much of a bitch ectoplasm is to get out of dress pants? Because now, apparently, I do.”

And the office can’t tell if Dean believes now or takes her excuses, but now Sam Wesson and Dean Smith talk in the elevator and Sharon talks to Dean about that paranormal show in the break room.

It comes to a head though after the third suicide in the office.

Everyone is on edge. It’s terrifying. The sales were great! The benefits... alright. Definitely not enough for this mass suicide that seems to be plaguing the office suddenly. 

“Listen, it’s...” Dean’s sigh could be heard from outside of his office. “Can you just come see if it’s a ghost or not?” He reportedly begged.

Obviously, no one could hear the other end of the conversation, but they could hear the exasperated and fond, “love you, dear” that followed—even if they were pressed up against the closed office door to hear it. At least that’s what the reports say.

That’s how the Ghostfacers, Ed and Harry and Co, end up storming Sandover. They’re gangly and awkward, but they seem to know what they’re doing. Sandover be damned, but it is a ghost. They come walking out with a steaming trap and the promise to dispose of it.

“If they knew who the, er, guy was they’d be able to smoke him or something,” Dean explained awkwardly to Danny from Marketing, according to reports. “But since they don’t they just... trap them. That’s how Cas explained it.”

Sam Wesson from IT seemed more interersted than Danny. Even if the goliath was cradling his injured arm. Beck reported that Sam and Dean had swooped in to save Danny at the last moment. Danny was just pale and shaking from his near encounter with said ghost in the face of Dean’s reassurances.

“You’re not getting a disounct, Smith, just ‘cause you’re married into the family.” Ed, the one not holding the smoking trap, spoke.

Dean furrowed his brow. “Family?” He asked in disbelief.

“The Ghostfacers family,” Harry, the one with the trap, nodded. “Cas is a part of the Ghostfacers family. But you don’t get a family discount.” He turned to one of their crew cameras. “We don’t do family discounts.”

Ed hissed, blocking the camera’s view of Harry before he turned back to Dean. “But! Since we’re so nice, we’ll discount the disposal fee.”

“So you... will do a family discount?” Sam Wesson from IT questioned, eyeing the cameras cautiously. Like a moose out in the wild afraid of photographers. This is how the reports recorded it.

“No,” Ed huffed. “But Cas said you make a mean BBQ. And we do trades.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Real nice. Thanks.”

The doors to the office floor opened and a man with round glasses, soft and dark hair, and worried eyes made a dramatic entrance on to the scene. “Dean?”

Then tension in Dean’s shoulders eased, and the Mrs. Smith smile stretched across his face. This is based on the reports of Raj who is completely unbiased to the phenomena of Dean’s Mrs. Smith smile. “Cas,” he let out in a breath, taking his hand away from his forehead where he was pressing gauze into his wound.

Dean Smith and Sam Wesson were, apparently, brazenly brave and exceedingly difficult to work with—according to the Ghostfacers. They were, however, efficient with iron.

The man—Cas—as the office will later recount, sighed with relief as he neared Dean. He rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder, checking the forehead wound with his opposite hand.

“Maggie’s report back to the office said civilian casualities minimal,” Cas—Cas?!—explained. “That usually means someone tried doing something stupid.”

“So you just assumed it was me?” Dean huffed, still wearing his Mrs—Mr—Smith smile.

Cas gave his version of the Mr. Smith smile. Something a bit smaller on his lips but dragging at his eyes. “It usually is,” he spoke fondly, intimately. The office doesn’t talk much about what happened next. Most folk, the decent ones, gave the whispered confessions the privacy they deserved.

At the next office party, since Ramona moved to the Miami branch, it was Buford’s time to organize. It was fancy shindig and it was plus one. Sharon brought her ghost hobbyist husband who hit it off with both Sam Wesson from IT—who brought his fianceé, a nurse—and Castiel Smith—Dean Smith’s infamous plus one. They talked for an hour in their own corner before Dean absconded his husband.

“I’ve got to get something from my office,” he reportedly whispered, seeming rather husky in his demeanor. “Help me?”

And even if people in the office heard something from Dean Smith’s office, well, no one was too keen on repeating that.

[itisannak]

CEO!Michael x President’s Daughter!Y/N (Michael Clifford Smut Fic)

Summary: (Y/N) is the daughter of the company's president Michael holds the CEO position. They dated a few years back until they broke up due to the long distance. Now, (Y/N) is back, and her father has plans for her. Plans that Michael is absolutely opposed to. (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Oral; Female Receiving) The fic contains 2 scenes where marital rape is mentioned. The mentions are not graphic and there is no description of the incident. I have put the scenes in Italics and they are marked with asterisks (****) at the beginning and end of the paragraph. I actually saw this story in my dream once and I simply had to write it. I hope you like it, I put a lot of work into it.   (Words: 15.9k)

"Good morning, Ms. (Y/L/N). Welcome back." My father's secretary greets me as soon as I step out of the elevator. I take off my sunglasses, looking at her with an ironic smile; such a kiss-ass. "Good morning, Mrs. Venable. My father is waiting for me in the board room. You must be aware of that..." I reply and she nods. "Of course. That's why I am here. I have specific instructions for guiding you there. You see, we had a little bit of a floor remodeling while you were away." She states, gesturing for me to follow her. "It was about time we had one." I mumble, following suit behind her. My high heels click against the marble floor, covering whatever chatter talk the secretary has been mumbling as we walk. "Your father made sure no one is going to bother you during the meeting." She comments, opening the door for me. I nod my head before walking in, being greeted by my father who opens his arms for me.

"(Y/N), sweetheart. Thank you for being here on time." He comments as I hug him. "Was I ever late when we had a meeting? Let me pour myself some coffee and then we can talk about the important matter that is so important that we couldn't talk about it at home." I sass, reaching for the pot in the center of the table. "Cutting straight to the matter, I see." He states with a chuckle, making me smirk. "Learned from the absolute best. Now, let's talk about business. Is this meeting about me being hired on the legal team of the company? Because you really didn't need to make that announcement all fancy like that." I brag just a little, bringing the mug to my lips. "It is not about that, darling. It is far more important than that." He assures me, making me look at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Then what is it, dad?" I ask, causing him to clear his throat. "Remember the Jophersons?" He asks me and I hum. "How couldn't I forget? What about them?" I ask, sitting up straight. "We have been bargaining a partnership. Their company and ours becoming one. It would be huge, we would take over the world market." He explains, far too passionate about it. "This is exciting, daddy. Do you need my approval as a shareholder? Because you know I would agree with that, even if you didn't ask." I smile at him, patting his hand. "Well, not nearly. The thing is... Jophersons' youngest son, Edward... You remember him, right? Well, he set a condition or else they pull the offer." He states, making me even more confused. "Ugh, of course, he would, that sleazy bastard... What did he ask for?" I ask, cringing at the memory of him. "You know that boy always had a crush on you... He asked... He set a clause that he would allow the partnership under the condition you would agree to marry him." He explains, making my stomach spasm. "No, not him. No. He has been trying to get me for years. It is a vanity project for him. I am nothing more than a trophy. Daddy, there has to be another way. Not Edward. Not Sleazy Eddy. Please, dad." I panic, feeling the temperature rise. "(Y/N), listen to me... It is the only way. Please, take a deep breath." He says, standing up and patting my shoulder. I tear up at the thought; he is the typical rich white guy, the type you see on the Bachelor show. He thinks that looks and money make the world revolve around him. He has been 'flirting' with me at every party, always trying to push on the boundaries, always being way too suggestive. It makes me sick, he makes me sick. My father can't really ask me to marry someone I don't like, can he? "Dad, no... This is inappropriate. This is unacceptable. We don't live in 1950. I am not some kind of exchangeable goods that he can demand on a contract." I hyperventilate, standing up from the chair I was sitting. "Sit down and lower your damn voice. All this year I have provided you with everything. It is time you finally paid back to the family. You know how important this is for me." He says, way sterner than before. "You can't be asking me to make that sacrifice. I don't love him, I don't even like him as a human. Please, dad. Anything but that. I will die if I marry him." I plead, feeling my throat convulse. I can barely breathe. "You are being dramatic. You will marry him and that's the end of it." He sounds way too determined as if he called me here to announce it rather than ask my input. "You are going to sacrifice my happiness on the money altar?" I ask him, making him scoff. "You make it sound like an Ancient Greek tragedy. You are not Iphigenia, sacrificing yourself for winds in your father's favor. You are marrying a rich guy, making your family richer and more powerful. You and your children, your children's children, and many generations after yours, are never going to worry about money. Stop pretending you are the victim here." He spits out, looking at me pitifully. "Not all that matters is money, dad." I state and he scoffs. "Please... It is easy for you to say that. You think money is not important because you never had to go a day without it. If you think money is not important, you are free to reject the offer and try to live without it." He announces, pointing at the door. I stare at him in shock, gulping down, and tensing my jaw. I nod my head, biting my lip. "Well, it seems like the decision has been finalized way before I was asked." I feel tears brimming in my eyes, sniffling as I try to stop myself from crying. "Get yourself together and go get ready. We have a meeting at 4, and your engagement will be announced along with the partnership. Make sure you are not late, make sure you look happy." He orders, making me chuckle. "Of course. We would hate for people to find out I'd rather kill myself before laying in bed with the devil." I state before storming out of the room.

I walk into the bathroom, trying to calm myself before I have a panic attack. My clothes feel awfully tight, constraining my breathing. I feel awful, disgusted by myself, by my family. My father is willing to practically sell me to someone to gain more power. I thought that this is something only happening to girls in 3rd world countries. I feel powerless; my family can't disown me, I have practically nothing, plus their connections would turn their backs on me. And I really can't marry Edward. I can't, I won't. The thought of him disgusts me, to the point of actually feeling like throwing up all over his face. I certainly cannot hope for a white wedding; his intentions for me wouldn't let him.

I press my back against the cold tile wall, sliding down on it. I want to crawl out of my skin, I want to scratch my flesh off my body. I can't be marrying him, but I also cannot reject it. The decision has been taken, my agreement was just fine letters for them. I think I chose to stay in the bathroom because I felt powerless to move anywhere else. I take a look at myself in the mirror; it is like I am having an out-of-body experience. I don't recognize the woman in the mirror, she doesn't nearly look familiar. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before opening my purse and reaching for my little makeup bag. Just a bit of powder to make my eyes look like I haven't been crying my soul out and a little bit of lipstick to add some color to my washed-out complexion. I look better than my father and future husband deserve; had I have the guts, I would show up dressed in rugs.

"You don't look like you went home to change." My father comments as I take a seat by him on the big table in the board room. "It might be because I didn't. I didn't want to be late for the glorious announcement." I state sarcastically, taking my phone out of my purse. In walk the Jophersons, the father followed by the eldest and youngest son. Oh, my future husband... He has the stupidest smirk, the victorious kind he always sports. God, I will have to spend my life with this moron, whose only achievement is being born in a family of old money. He takes a seat across from me, giving me a side smirk as he settles. My stomach stings, every bite of my breakfast crawling up and threatening to fly out of my mouth. And then he walks in, looking like a million bucks. I haven't thought about the possibility of running into him here, like my brain refused to run down the scenario. Michael is still the CEO, he still runs the company. My father holds the founder position and the chairman of the board, but Michael is still the CEO here. My mind goes fuzzy around the edges, only focusing on him as his eyes lock with mine. Now my stomach fills with butterflies, my heart skipping a bit. I haven't seen him for 3 years now, ever since the breakup, but I would be damned if I said I haven't thought of him every day ever since. "Everyone's here?" My father asks, standing up from his chair. I press my hand against my temples, bracing myself for the impact. "Shall we begin?" He asks again, fixing the button of his blazer. "Before we talk about the business part of the meeting, I have an important announcement to make. My beautiful daughter, the most precious part of my heart, and Edward Jopherson are getting married. Everyone present is invited and welcome to the engagement party on Saturday." He announces, making the board clap and cheer, as Ed smirks smugly. I dart my eyes away, finding Michael looking at me in a state of shock.

I scrubbed and washed my skin away, trying to get rid of the dirty feeling that has seeped in under my skin. I want to lock myself away from the world outside, wishing to build a haven for me where I will be safe and all of this is just a bad dream. My hair has moistened the fabric of my romp, and my face is as blank as it has never been before. The only lights that I let in are coming from the big window that overlooks the city and the TV that has been playing for hours now, providing some noise that distracts me from going insane. I sniffle as I wipe my tears away, deciding that a good ol' sob-out is what I need. This is how my life is going to be from now on, I just know it. I don't want the only happiness in my life coming from materialistic stuff, but I know that marrying Edward is only going to give me this kind of happiness. I don't let myself get delusional, thinking that somehow Edward is going to turn out to be some decent guy, a guy that will love and respect me, because I know him for the douche he is. I am going to be a trophy wife for him. A sad, lonely trophy wife.

My doorbell rings, making me jump up from the couch. I walk to the door, fixing my romp and wiping my eyes before I peep through the peephole, finding Michael standing outside my door. "Who let you in?" I ask him as I open the door. "Yous still have the same pin. You still have my birthday as your entrance pin." He points out, making me huff. "Shit... I forgot to change it after coming back. What do you want? You shouldn't be here." I state, gulping the lump in my throat. "Can I come in?" He asks; it is more of a demand than a request, his tensed jaw moving from side to side. "You really shouldn't be here." I repeat and he hums. "Well, I am here." He states, cocking his eyebrow at me. I move from the door, letting him inside my penthouse before closing the door. "What do you want, Michael?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "Why are you marrying him?" He asks me, making me roll my eyes. "Why do you care? We are not together anymore. We haven't been for years." I protest and he groans. "I still fucking care and you know it. You were the one who called the end." He snaps, making me chuckle sarcastically. "I called it quits because we were apart. I was away for my master's and you were here running the company. I was the one traveling to see you. Do you know how many essays I wrote on planes traveling back and forth? You were never visiting, I was tired of you finding excuses. It's been years since, Michael. Stop pretending you care." I shake as I let it out, making him groan at me from deep in his chest. "I still fucking care about you and you can't change it. Why are you marrying Sleazy Ed? Your stomach turned at the sight of him and now all of a sudden you want to spend your life with the douchebag?" He asks me, raising his voice. "Stop yelling at me. You know damn well why I am marrying him." I reply, prompting him to look at me a little disgusting. "You are marrying him for money? Doesn't your family have enough?" He asks. "I am marrying him to give my father his precious partnership. I am marrying him because there is no other way." I snap at him, making him drop his face and walk closer to me. "What? What are you talking about?" He asks, voice going soft. "Ed, set as a clause that I will have to marry him for him to agree on the partnership. You didn't know?" I ask and he shakes his head no. "He can't do that." He protests and I shrug. "Apparently he can and he already did. I was exchanged for more power, I was part of the deal. So please, spare me the dramatics right now. I have already maxed out on my tragedy for the day." I say, feeling hollow. "You can't marry him." He stutters, making me chuckle. "The other option was destroying the deal, and my parents disowning me and me being left with no one and nothing." I reply, throwing my hands in the air in frustration. "No, no... You can't marry him... I can't let you marry him." He exasperates, running his hand down his face. "Michael... It is too late. You were there when the contracts were signed. The partnership is about to start and I am about to go wedding dress shopping for my wedding with Sleazy Ed. It is over for me, Michael. It has been over for us for years, and now it is over for me as well, I will be sad and lonely for the rest of my life." I shrug my shoulders, feeling all my emotions choking me. "It's not over. It's was never over for us, (Y/N). I haven't stopped loving you and I know you haven't stopped loving me either. I know you haven't, I knew since the moment I saw you in the conference room. This can't be our end." He says, looking at me with the softest look. I can't really breathe; the only thought in my mind right now is somewhat ending up with Michael. "Don't say things you know that can't be true." I sniffle, causing him to walk towards me, grab my face in his hands, and pull me in for a kiss.

I respond to him, kissing him back as if I depend on it. I remember how much I liked kissing him, I remember every movement of his lips against mine, how warm they felt. I walk backward until my back meets the wall, and Michael's body presses against mine. I sigh in the kiss, just seconds before his teeth pull on my bottom lip. My hands move to unbutton his shirt, a little eager to feel him whole against my body. "You can't be marrying him to please your father when you know what I can do with my tongue." He mumbles, lowering his body and wrapping my legs around his waist. "Are you going to make me feel good?" I ask and he hums, bringing his face to my chest. "As always, princess." He mumbles, setting me on my bed. He kneels, undoing the belt that holds my romp together. I am left in the matching, silky negligee, which Michael just lifts its hem to my stomach. He pulls my panties to the side, bringing his mouth to my sex. "Oh, Michael..." I sigh, closing my eyes and throwing my head back. I always loved his lips there, he always knew how to make me cum. His tongue swirls against my clit, before flicking on it fast. My hand lowers to his hair, twisting and gripping on his locks. "Oh fuck..." I cry, pressing my core more on his face.

He sucks on my bundle of nerves vigorously, bringing his fingers to my entrance. His ring and middle finger circle around my entrance. I turn my head to the side, my eyes falling on the window running along my bedroom. The city looks better than ever right now, the lights reflecting on the glass of my window blurring in and causing lines of highlights to blend in the scenery. He hooks his fingers up against my spot, making my legs shake and my whole body writhe from pleasure. "Michael, please... Please, I need more of you, I need all of you." I cry out, making him smile against my core. "Want me, baby?" He asks, taking his mouth off my cunt, taking a breath as he plants kisses on the inside of my thigh. "Today... more than ever." I utter, stroking his hair. "Me too, baby." He smiles, crawling up my body and leaving a trail of kisses from my thighs, to my hipbones, and then all the way up to my neck. He reaches down to unzip his pants, lowering them until he frees his cock. He pulls me closer by my thighs, wrapping my legs around his hips and stroking his cock against my sex. "You still like it raw, baby?" He asks, nibbling on my ear lobe. "Only from you." I whimper and he chuckles. My hands go to his biceps as he tries to slip inside me.

When he does, he moves slowly, giving me time to adjust to him after all this time. His hand goes to the side of my face, stroking his fingers over it as I whimper softly and try to accommodate to him. "Please, make love to me... This might be my last time experiencing that." I plead, making him shake his head. "It won't be, princess. I won't allow it." He assures me, pressing his lips against mine. I part my lips, letting him slide his tongue in my mouth and deepen the kiss, just as he starts thrusting faster. I feel him stretch my walls as he moves, which makes me moan and moves against him. His thumb grazes over my cheek, soothing me while he pounds in me harder, angling up to hit my spot just right. I moan against his lips, throwing my head a little back and causing his lips to move on my chin. "Princess..." He mumbles softly, his voice huskier than before. "Don't stop." I beg, moving my hips against his. "I won't... I won't stop, baby. I missed you, I missed us." He breathes out, his breath fanning against my skin. "Oh, Michael... You know my body too well. I am so close." I whine, touching his face with my fingertips. I bring his face to mine, connecting our lips as he thrusts in and out of me, making my eyes flicker at how good he feels inside me. The knot in my stomach snaps, making me groan as I orgasm around him, twitching underneath him. "Fuck, I had forgotten how good you feel cumming around me." He hisses, tilting my head to the side, and latching his lips on my neck.

"There must be a way you can avoid marrying that douchebag and not breaking the deal." Michael comments as I walk back to my bed after cleaning up. "No, there isn't. And I don't want to talk about it right now." I reply, sighing as I sit on the bed. "This was a mistake..." I mumble, feeling tears forming in my eyes. "You regret it?" He asks me worried. "Not a second of it. I just... I will never be as happy as I was on this bed with you. And tonight only makes living with Ed seem harder. So, tonight shouldn't happen again. Because if it happens again, it will only highlight how sad my life with him is going to be." I sob, making him kneel in front of me. "Let me stay tonight. Let me hold you in my arms, let me take you in, one last time. If this is goodbye, we deserve a proper one, we deserve a soft one." He says, making me nod as my lips pout and twitch and my eyes fill with tears. "Hey, hey... Don't cry. Tonight we pretend all of this is not happening and that we will be alright." He says softly, peppering my face with kisses. "I always thought I would be marrying you. I always saw myself having children with you, living in a beautiful house by the sea, with a huge garden, kinda like a field." I state as Michael pulls me to lay on the bed, pressing my back against his chest. "The house sounds dreamy. How many children?" He asks me, strumming his thumb over my hip. "3. Two boys and a girl." "Two Michaels and one (Y/N), huh? Well, I want 4. And a bunch of dogs." He replies and I giggle. "This is just a dream." I say under my breath. "I know. But dreams do come true, you know..." He plants a kiss on my shoulder. "Rarely." I add and he chuckles. "I promise to make this one come true. Even if it means moving heaven and earth to make it." He tries to assure me, making me smile at how naive this is.

The house is full of people; people I don't know, people I don't care to meet. All I care about is the fact that Edward has been walking around, with his hand on my lower back and a smile on his face, introducing future Mrs. Jopherson to the invitees. I have been drinking the whole night, trying to numb myself, disassociating from all of this. I hate his touch, I hate the feeling of him close to me, I hate the sound of his voice. I hate everything, and this is supposed to be only the beginning of it. "I have to go freshen up... Excuse me for a sec." I remove myself politely from the company, walking away as fast as I can. I can't wait for the event to be over and I get to go home, lock myself in my apartment, away from everyone, away from my parents, away from my fiance.

I let myself into the upstairs guest bathroom, locking the door behind me before I sit on the lid of the toilet. I fidget with my fingers, trying to breathe normally; I didn't think of what I would do once I was away from the people in the party, only focusing on a way to just go away. The knock of the door startles me, making me jolt in my seat and gasp. "Occupied." I call, hoping whoever it is will fuck off elsewhere and leave me alone. "Michael." He responds, almost whispering. I stand up, walking to the door, and unlocking it to let him in. "What are you doing here?" I ask, closing the door. "I wanted to check on you." He says, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean at the engagement party. Why are you here?" I ask and he sighs. "It is painful. But it is way more painful for you. And I didn't want to leave you here alone. I know you are alone in this house tonight, and I wanted you to have someone here for you tonight. Plus, your father invited everyone and I think people would notice if I wasn't here." He replies, making me gulp the knot in my throat and nod my head. "I hate it here..." I sniffle and he cups my face in his hands. "Hey, hey... No crying. He doesn't get to make you cry. You are going to make it through this, I am going to help you any way I can." He mumbles, making me look at him. "You have to go. We agreed we wouldn't..." "I am not here to take advantage of you. I am here because I could tell from across the room you were about to meltdown... And I didn't want you to make anything stupid." He replies, making me chuckle. "I wouldn't. The deal would be off." I joke, laughing and making Michael join me in. "You are the love of my life. I love you, more than anything in the world." He says, looking at me in the eye. "It is time to stop. It is time you find someone else to love... It is ok, you can't wait for me forever." I assure him but he shakes his head. "You can't tell who to love or for how long. I gave you my heart way back, and it is yours to keep. I will be waiting for you because you are getting out of it." He states, pressing his lips on my forehead. "I'll go downstairs now. Try not to take too long." He mumbles, stroking my cheek before he turns away.

Sooner than I anticipated, the night before my wedding arrived. My parents and future in-laws through a big rehearsal dinner, where my future husband decided that PDA was essential. I nearly vomited 3 times during the hour-long dinner, really putting my acting skills to full capacity to avoid showing off how much I wanted to die. I could only feel gratitude the moment I walked into my apartment. My parents wanted me to stay at the family house my last night as Ms. (Y/L/N), my mother for sentimental purposes, so she could be there for her little girl on the final night she would sleep alone, and my father just to make sure I wouldn't run away. But he settled on me going to the family house bright and early, accompanied of course by a bunch of his guards. I pour myself a glass of whiskey, petrified by daylight coming in soon. I thought about escaping, I am not going to lie, but I have nowhere and no one to go to. At my father's command, everyone will cut me off if I disobey him. I thought about running to Michael; I know he will be there waiting with open arms. But he is going to lose his job and have a similar fate to mine, being turned down by everyone he asks for a job from. I know how hard he has worked to get where he is, and I would never, ever do that to him. He was at the rehearsal, looking at me silently from his spot, enduring the torture of seeing me with another man.

My doorbell rings and I rush to it, my heart skipping happily; I knew he would come. I open the door and find Michael behind it, just as I expected. I fall in his arms, making him wrap them around me tightly. "I knew you would come..." I mumble, refusing to let him go. He still holds onto me as we walk in, closing the door behind him. "I can't stay away from you." He replies, pushing my chin up so he can kiss me. "You are the only person I wanted to see tonight. No one else." I state in between kisses, making him hum. "I know. I could feel it." He mumbles, cupping my face in his hands. "Are you going to stay with me?" I ask, looking at him pleadingly. "I can't leave you... I can't..." He breathes out, picking me up to carry me to my bed.

His hands work fast to bare me of my clothes, while his lips trail my skin. His hands touch me everywhere, making me chill at the sensation. "I love you... I love you so much..." He mumbles, looking up at me. "I love you too... More than anything in the world." I reply, making him smile at me softly. His lips move to my neck while he thrusts inside me, taking my hands in his. I gasp, closing my eyes to focus only on how good he feels inside me. He kisses my jawline, breathing against my skin as he moves inside me. "I love you..." He repeats, bringing his lips on mine. He kisses me deeply, squeezing harder on my hands as he bucks his hips against mine, angling up to hit my spot. I kiss him back just as deeply, bringing my hand to twist in the hair on the end of his head. My thigh is pressed against his side, trying to hold my body closer to his as he thrusts harder, making me pulse around his length. "You feel so good." I breathe out, throwing my head back. One of his hands leaves mine, traveling down to my hip and tracing soft patterns on it as he holds onto me. "I will never get enough of you... All of you and all of me belong together." He utters, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. I moan in pleasure, eyebrows furrowing together as I bite my bottom lip. I feel warm and loved underneath him, something that my body has been aching to experience again. I buck my hips up against his, riding on him to meet his thrusts. "Fuck, do that again." He whines, face morphing into his familiar pleasure expression. "What? Move my hips like that?" I ask, rolling them against him. "Fuck... Fuck... I wanna cum..." He hisses, pounding on top of me. "Not yet... Not yet, please... I wanna cum with you. And I just need a little more to get myself there. Please..." I whimper, gasping as I feel his tip press against my cervix. His veins are pulsing against my walls, his thrusts are becoming sloppier and sloppier each passing second, showing me he is achingly close to his high. But he keeps himself from coming, biting his lip and digging his nails into my skin. I want him to leave a mark, I want him to mark me as his own so that I will have to walk down the aisle wearing his touch under my designer wedding dress. "You are pulsing around me... You are milking my cock, princess." He slurs, panting as he fucks me deeper with every move of his hips. "Michael..." I cry out, arching my back off the mattress. He scoops his arm under my waist, holding me close to him as he gives me a couple of final thrusts before I shriek and cum around him, screaming his name as I clutch onto him as if he is the most precious part of my soul; which he certainly has been, currently is, and always will be.

With the final thrust, he glues on me, holding me down and resting his head in the curve of my neck while he cums inside me, making me feel warm, full, and safe. "Go pack a bag." He orders as he calms down from his orgasm, flopping with his back against the bed. "What?" I ask, resting my head against his chest and taking his hand in mine. "Go pack a bag, just a few clothes, and necessities. Let's leave. Now. Please, let's leave together." He begs, making me hum bittersweet. "And where do you think we should go?" I ask, knowing better than him that there isn't a plan for this escape. "I don't know. We will get in a car together, drive to a different state, and take a plane elsewhere. I have qualifications, experience, I will find another job. And we will get a house by the sea, with a big garden, just as you pictured it. Please, go pack a bag." He looks at me like a puppy, his eyes sparkling. "My father is going to fight you, no one will hire you. He has power, money, influence. He knows politicians, he is going to make sure you and I suffer if we oppose and cancel the deal. No one is going to hire you, nor me." "I don't care, I will work at McDonald's, I will flip burgers... I just want to be with you. Run away with me." He presses on me, running his thumb over the back of my hand. "You are going to hate me for the rest of your life. You worked too hard to get where you are right now. If you throw it all away for me, you are going to hate me. Maybe not the first months, or the first couple of years, but 3 or 4 years in, when we will be staying in a tiny apartment and we won't be able to afford to have a baby, and the bills are going to be piling up, you are going to despise me, you are going to curse the moment you suggested we run away and I said yes. So, since I want you to remember me with love and not hatred, I have to say no." I explain and he sighs. "(Y/N), please." He begs, voice cracking. "Mikey, baby... I love you. And turning this down is even harder than getting married to Sleazy Ed tomorrow evening, so, please don't ask me again." I reply, leaving a peck on his chest. I am oddly calm while I let the words out, my soul feeling at peace as I realize I am doing what's best for everyone. "I could never hate you. Never. Even if we lived in a cardboard, underneath a bridge. And sacrificing what I have right now, it will be a lot easier than watching you become his wife." He replies, hugging me to his body. "Don't come to the wedding tomorrow. Putting on the whole show is going to be a lot harder if you are there. I don't want you going through that." I almost beg him. "I think everyone will notice I am missing. We did so well hiding our relationship while we were together, let's not give them suspicions. Plus, I can't leave you there alone." He says soothingly, rubbing down my arm. ****"I... Tomorrow night, he is going to..." I begin but he shushes me. "If he touches you, if he lays his hands on you, in any way, I will kill him myself. I swear to God and anything sacred." He looks at me in the eye, hissing a threat I know he can't bring to life. "We know the only reason he put that clause in the contract is just to get in my pants. He couldn't ask for a night with me, that would show his true colors to my father, to his father, to everyone on both boards. He has been trying to fuck me for years, I have been turning him down every time and that pissed him off. If I don't give him what he wants, he will only become more obsessed. So, tomorrow night, when he thrusts in me for less than 3 minutes, I am going to close my eyes and think of you, and all of the times you made me feel ethereal, like a goddess on Earth." I reply, smiling at him softly. "He is going to..." He begins but I press my finger on his lips. "He doesn't have power over me. I'll give him what he wants and he will be disinterested, move back to fucking everyone with a pussy between their legs." I reply and he groans; I feel his anger, his frustration, his helplessness, and I have been there when I first realized what would happen after the wedding. You see, putting on a dress and saying "I do" is going to be just the beginning. And the beginning is the easiest in this scenario. "You are the bravest person I know. You have bigger balls than any motherfucker I know." He states and I sigh. "Yeah, I know." I reply, raxing my back and yawning. ****

"A week from tomorrow, at 9 pm, you come to find me at the hotel we used to go when we were hiding from everyone. I will text you the room number at 8:30. Come find me." He instructs and I huff. "Are we running away from there?" I ask him, causing him to shake his head. "No. Not yet, at least. It will be just you and me for a couple of hours, a bit of sensitization for both of us, because I know we will both be out of our bodies until then. I will be your haven, your safe space for a few hours, and you will be my happiness, the only thing that will keep me from losing it." He explains, making me tear up a little. "We will meet weekly." I suggest and he hums. "More frequently if we need it. You will just text me, or I will just text you and we will meet at the hotel whenever we need it." He kisses the top of my head, breathing steadily. "I love you." I utter, lacing my fingers with his. "I love you too, pretty girl." He whispers, making warmth spread on my body.

"You look so pretty, (Y/N)... You are the most beautiful bride I have seen." My father smiles as he walks into the bridal suite. He is supposed to walk me down the aisle, deliver me to the douchebag I am supposed to marry in just a few minutes. "Stop, stop with this bullshit, we both know I look nothing like myself. Not even close. We both know that this facade is not pretty..." I rumble, feeling like giving myself one last chance to walk out of this free. "(Y/N), you are being dramatic. I swear to God, if you pull that crap in front of everyone, I will make you regret it." He threatens. My chest tightens and I decide that attack is not the best strategy. "Dad... Daddy... That man... You know that man is going to torture me. I don't love him, dad. He is going to make me unhappy. Please don't throw my life away. Please, dad... You are the only one with the power to stop it. Please, dad..." I beg, looking at him for a reaction. "Everyone is waiting for us, Mrs. Jopherson." He replies, linking my arm with his. I nod my head and wipe away my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. "Yes, sir. Let's go offer everyone a show." I say coldly, putting on my brave face.

I counted the seconds until the day I would see Michael arrived. I lied to the house personnel that I would be heading to the gym in case Edward asks my whereabouts and drove to the hotel as fast as I could, feeling jittery about seeing him again. There were mere seconds between me knocking on the door and him opening it, smiling at me. I fall in his arms, breathing in his scent to ground myself to reality. He is here, and I am here, and this is real, more real than what happened in the past week. He pulls me inside and I push the door closed with my foot. "I missed your pretty face... I missed you so much." He whispers, peppering my face with kisses. "Not more than I did." I assure him, cradling his face in my hands and kissing him deeply. ****"Did he touch you? Are you ok?" He asks after we pull away, holding me by my shoulders. "He was too drunk to do anything on the first night. We stayed in a hotel suite and the moment he was off, I went and booked myself a room. I stayed there all night and only saw him in the morning. We went for lunch with my parents and his, spent most of the day there. We got home at night and he... It lasted 3 minutes and 37 seconds... I know, I counted them. He rolled to the side, mumbled something to himself. And then he fell asleep. I slept in a guest room, woke up super early just to go back to his bed. After that, he didn't bother with me. He got what he wanted. I am sleeping in a different room than him now. He doesn't seem to mind." I state, making him close his eyes and draw a breath, trying to contain himself. ****

"Hey, hey... I am alright. Can we please, stop talking about it now? This whole safe haven thing is not going to work if we are constantly talking about him." I ask, stroking his cheek, as he nods his head at me. "I picked up some Asian food from the place near my house. I got you extra dumplings because I know you like them." He says, pointing to the bag that is resting on the table nearby. "You know, my excuse for tonight was that I was going to the gym. I can't go back home blotted from dumplings." I joke and he hums. "Well, if you'd like... I can help with burning the extra calories..." He smirks, making me roll my eyes at him. "I was really hoping you would... I have been thinking of you touching me nearly every day since the last time." I place my hands on the sides of his neck.

"I was thinking... Maybe... I don't know, the weekend after this one, maybe we could go on a little trip. On a little cabin in the woods, away from everyone... If you want to of course." He suggests, stroking my hair and twisting a lock of it between his fingers. My head is on his chest, his skin still a little damp with sweat from having sex a few minutes before. "I will have to find an excuse and we should definitely not meet during the next week, just for precaution, but it sounds magnificent." I state, supporting my body on my elbows to be able to look at him a little better. "We will leave on Friday afternoon. I'll pick you up from your old apartment. And we will drive there. Hopefully, we will make it there before night falls and we will have dinner under the stars. Just you and me, miles away." He states, running his knuckles down my back. "Why are we meeting here?" I ask and he looks at me with confusion. "What do you mean?" He asks me back. "I still have my old apartment. We can meet there, it will feel more... homey, I guess." I suggest and he chuckles. "Aren't you afraid of getting caught?" He asks me and I shake my head at him. "Ed doesn't know about the house, and my parents don't have keys. I have no neighbors, I live in the penthouse... Getting caught is no valid worry." I respond and he hums. "Ok then... Next meeting will be at your house." He replies, pressing his lips on my forehead.

The housekeeper leaves the plate before me, making me smile at her politely. Edward has been scrolling on his phone, which is a huge relief for me. He barely ever talks to me while he is at home, which is torturing. He married me to prove he could, and he plans on spending our married life just keeping me incarcerate in a life of nothing. "My best friend from college is coming from Spain next weekend. We are thinking of going to Miami for the weekend to catch up. Girls weekend out and stuff." I state, picking up my glass of wine. "And you are telling me this because...?" He asks, not raising his gaze from his phone. "Just to let you know I will be gone next weekend. Friday to Monday morning." I reply, shrugging my shoulders. "Yeah, have fun. Try not to make a big fool out of yourself." He replies, making me press my tongue against my cheek and swallow my anger. "Thanks. Try not to catch too many STDs while I am gone." I roll my eyes, sipping on my wine.

Friday came and I couldn't wait to get out of the house. If sneaking around with Michael in hotel rooms makes me feel free, that feeling of freedom becomes a thousand times intenser now that we are going away from all that. Michael pulls into the parking under my old apartment, making me jump in excitement. I skip to the car, throwing my duffel bag in the backseat before slipping in the front. "Hi, baby." He greets, smiling at me. I lean closer to him, pressing my lips against his for a quick peck, which he turns into a deeper, proper kiss by gripping onto the back of my head and prying my lips apart with his tongue. "Ready for our trip?" He asks as we part, making me squeal excitedly. "I have never been more ready about anything in my life" I reply, relaxing back into my seat. "The little cabin is absolutely beautiful. It has a fireplace and a cozy bedroom. And a little hot tub on the balcony, which has a breath-taking view. You are going to love it." He says, driving out of the parking. "Pity I didn't pack a swimsuit..." I pout, picking up the coffee cup from the cup holder. "You can go naked. I don't mind... Nothing I haven't seen before, nor I don't want to see... I mean. Babe, you have a body to kill for." He replies, cocking an eyebrow at me. "I packed a suit, unfortunately for you. Just in case... Plus, my whole excuse was that I will be going to Miami. I had to pack some bikinis for cover-up." I bring my hand to stroke his hair, making him groan in disappointment. "What do I have to do to convince you to go in naked?" He asks, making me lick my lips. "Well, did you pack wine with you?" I ask back, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Rosé and Red. I know my girlfriend..." He replies, bringing my hand to his lips. "Shall we put on some music? Let freedom begin?" I ask, bringing my phone out of my pocket. "Let the freedom begin, princess." He smiles at me, almost as excited as I am.

We reach the little cabin just before sunset, the whole scenery looking idealistic with the light surrounding it. "Let's leave the luggage in the car and go to the reception for the key." He suggests, parking the car as I stretch my body. "Didn't you make a reservation?" I ask and he nods. "I did. But we need to pick up the keys and leave some identification." He explains, opening his door and getting out. I follow his lead, walking by his side and locking arms with him. He leans in, pecking my temple softly. I smile and lean my head against his arm, feeling calm for the first time in a while.

We walk into the little reception, small enough to fit only the desk and the back room. "Hi. We have a reservation. Under the name Clifford." Michael says to the woman behind the desk. She smiles at us while he takes out his ID. "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Clifford, you reserved the house up the hill." She replies, checking Michael's ID. "That's us. Did the payment go through?" He asks and the lady nods. "Of course. Give me a second to make a copy and hand you the keys." She says, moving to the back room. "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Clifford?" I ask, making him shrug. "I like the sound of it. Don't you?" He asks me and I hum. "I love it. This weekend I am Mrs. Clifford." I state, my heart fluttering at the sound of it. I lean up, pressing a kiss on his lips while the smile still spreads on my face. "Well, Mrs. Clifford... What do you want to do once we are in our cabin?" He asks me, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "I wanna have some wine with my husband, in front of the fireplace. Little to no clothing." I reply and he moans. "It sounds like a plan..." He replies, kissing the tip of my nose. "A good plan, I hope." I place my hand on top of his chest. "The best plan I've heard in years."He assures me, taking my hand in his.

After picking up the keys, Michael and I got into the car and drove up the hill where our cabin is. It looks like a typical cabin in the wood, with log walls and a front porch with comfortable seats. I carry my bag inside after Michael unlocks the door, and I walk in the coziest little living room, with a big sofa and a perfect fireplace. It is perfect, the total opposite of where we usually go. I walk up the staircase, leading to an open-plan bedroom. It is rustic, to say the least, but totally warm and homey. I leave my bag in the little armchair across the bed, smiling to myself as I imagine my weekend here with the love of my life. I was right; this is absolute freedom and I can picture myself living here forever with Michael, even if it isn't the dream house by the ocean I always pictured ourselves in. "Are you ok, love?" Michael asks, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around me. "I have never been better. This is oneiric, my love. I feel free." I take a deep breath, feeling my body relaxing finally. "I'll go start the fire. Wanna take a shower and freshen up?" He asks, kissing down the curve of my neck. "I'll be right downstairs. Crackers and cheese with the wine... My stomach is grumbling..." I pout as I turn around, making him hum. "You are hungry, bub?" He asks, raising my hoodie before kneeling down to kiss my stomach. "Very... But also I feel filthy after all those hours in the car. So, I need to go clean up." I stroke his hair, smiling down at him. "Filthy girl..." He mumbles, standing up and pressing his lips against mine. "Go. I will need warmth after the shower. Go start the fire, pour the wine, plate the cheese and crackers. Maybe have a shower too after the fire and before doing the rest. The car ride made you greasy..." I press my thumb on his bottom lip, pulling it down a bit, enough to reveal his bottom teeth before I press a peck on it. "And what are you going to do if I do everything?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Look pretty, smell great, be soft... So soft... Silky soft..." I say between kissing his neck in between kisses. "Fine... Go shower." He moans, throwing his head back.

Michael enters the bathroom right the moment I am wrapping my towel around my body. "Fuck, I missed all the fun." He sighs, making me chuckle. "We have a whole weekend to shower together." I remind him and he hums. "The fire is ready. I'll do the rest after the shower, just as the princess requested." He mumbles, stripping off his clothes. "You such a good boy for me... I will have to reward you for that..." I state, licking my lips as I watch his naked body. "What do you have in mind?" He asks, turning to look at me. "You know I am very good with my mouth... And not just for talking in court." I give him a wink, before walking out of the bathroom and letting him slip in the shower.

He was quick in his shower, soon moving downstairs to set up our little date and giving me time to dress up for him. Usually, when we meet in the hotel room, I am dressed in sports clothes, to cover my gym alibi. So now it is the perfect time for me to dress up for him, finally. So, I slip in my little babydoll, with the nice panties and garter belt underneath, tying it all together with my silky romp with lace details. I walk downstairs, finding Michael sitting by the fireplace already, 2 glasses of wine before him. "Well, that's quite the setup..." I comment, waiting for him to bring his focus on me. He averts his gaze to me, his face lighting up as he scans me. He stands up, walking his way towards me. He stares at me for a while, before his hands move to the belt of my romp. He tugs at it, looking at me for permission, which I grant by just nodding. He undoes it, letting the cover-up fall from my body. He looks at me in my babydoll, blinking a couple of times before running his hands down my sides. "Don't you look like a doll..." He comments, picking up my romp from the stairsteps. "You like it?" I ask, making him hum. "You look like a painting, my love." He replies, helping me walk down the remaining stairs. We walk to the fireplace, where he hands me a glass of wine. "If you get cold, you can always dress up. It is enough for me knowing what's under the romp."

He states, clinging his glass with mine while still staring at me. "It is actually very warm in here. Plus the wine is going to heat me a lot. So, I might strip down eventually." I reply, taking a sip from my wine. He breathes heavily, his chest moving visibly with every breath he draws in, while he gulps thickly. "Shit... I don't deserve you..." He shakes his head, running his hand down his face. "You deserve all of me." I assure him, moving closer to him, cupping his jaw in my hand before I kiss his lips. He tastes like his last gulp of wine, which makes me hazy, craving him more as I swipe my tongue between his teeth. He snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his body until I straddle him. "Wanna christen the cabin, princess?" He asks me, moving his lips from my lips to my chin and then down my neck. "What do you think, daddy?" I ask, breathing hard already. "You make me feel more intoxicated than all the wine in the world, my love." His breath fans against my skin, making me feel goosebumps spread on my body. "Michael..." I moan, feeling his hands stroking over my thighs slowly. "I know, baby. I need you too. Just as badly, if not more..." He whispers, kissing my neck hungrily. "Let me strip for you. I haven't done it in a while..." I ask, gasping under his touch. "Go ahead, baby. Do it slowly, let me take it in." He requests, leaning back as I stand before him. I watch the flames in the fireplace dance around, taking the tempo from them while I sway for him and touch my body, keeping eye contact as he drinks his wine and watches me as I toy with the straps of my babydoll.

I lower the left one, letting the garment drop a little from my chest. I watch him sit up a little, licking his lips as his face becomes a little redder. I drop the other one now, letting it fall completely. I am now standing bare-chested before him, left only in my garter and my panties, contrasting against my skin. "Let those on. I like them..." He says, moving near me. He brings me to lay with my back against the fuzzy carpet, hovering above me before he brings his lips to my chest. He kisses my body softly, every now and then bringing the tip of his tongue to lick the imprint his lips left as he trails them down towards my navel. He leaves a couple of hickeys, softly sucking on my skin to mark it in the prettiest colors. "Lower... Lower... Please..." I moan, feeling a tingling sensation between my thighs. "Lower? Here?" He asks, kissing an inch above the hem of my panties. "Lower..." I plead, tangling my fingers in the fuzz of the carpet. "Here?" He asks, lowering my panties and kissing my pussy, inches above my clit. "A little lower. Please, don't tease me like that..." I beg, becoming frustrated over the whole thing. "There... Fuck... There." I cry out, right as his lips wrap around my clit. He hums, pleased by my reaction to him, while he circles his tongue around the tip of it. "Oh Michael..." I moan, as his fingers trace down my outer lips. He parts them, slipping 2 of his fingers inside me and hooking them up against my post. He pumps them against it, making me tremor in surprise. "You taste so good, princess." He whispers, leaning his head against my thigh and flicking his tongue against my clit repeatedly and slowly, sending a wave of electricity down my spine. "You are so freaking good at this." I exclaim, arching my back as he goes back to sucking on my clit. He rolls it between his teeth softly, causing a little pain to mix with the pleasure. "Please, please, give me your cock. Fuck me, please." I plead, causing him to chuckle against me, sending vibrations all over my body. "Mikey, I am begging you. Enough foreplay. I need you." I stutter, trembling as he continues his sweet, sweet torture.

He swirls his tongue between my folds, moving his tongue slowly. I hate him for what he is doing oh so well. "Please, daddy. I'll do whatever you want. Please." I beg one last time, throwing out my final hope. His shoulders move in satisfaction before he kisses his way away from my core. He still pumps his fingers inside me, while his other hand works on freeing his cock from his clothes. He doesn't stop brushing my spot with his fingertips until they get replaced by his throbbing length. He thrusts deep inside me, holding onto my legs and pushing them closer to my chest to gain deeper access to my sex. My stomach rises and falls as I take him, whining at how good he feels inside me. "What, princess? I thought you wanted my cock? Now you are whining?" He asks cockily. My gaze falls on the way his cock thrusts in and out of me, which makes me mesmerized, totally indulged in the sight. "No, no... It feels good. It feels too good." I reply, bringing my hand to my face and biting onto it. He pulls it away from my face, pinning it by the side of my face. "You can scream all you want, baby. No one is going to complain." He smirks, bringing my other hand over my head and pinning it there along with the other. "The whole weekend with you, fucking me, sleeping next to me, spending all the time with me. I can just cum by the thought alone." I whimper, bucking my hips on his. "I know, baby. It makes me lose it too. Just thinking about sleeping in the same bed with you for 3 nights in a row... Fuck." He hisses, pounding in me harder. I shriek, pulsing around him, the need to grip onto him becoming bigger with each thrust. "It feels right. All of this feels right. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much... Oh, do that again." I rumble, toes curling and body arching completely off the carpet. "I love you too, dove. But I need you to stop moving your body so I can fuck you properly." He orders, putting his weight on me to stop me from moving. He still fucks me hard, fast, restlessly. He puts his all in every thrust, gasping as he moves against me. My hands twitch, trying to grip onto anything, really, but without any success. "Mikey, I might... Fuck, I wanna cum." I press my lips together, face tensing as I get closer and closer to my high. "Yeah, I can feel you, princess. Go ahead, cum for me (Y/N)... Cum around me, pretty girl." He encourages me, letting go of my hands. I instantly reach for his biceps, raking my nails down his skin, leaving red stripes on his arms. "Fuck." He hisses, giving me the strongest pound yet. My eyes roll back and I become undone, screaming in pleasure at the top of my lungs. It is like pure ecstasy running inside my veins, making my whole body alert, sensitive to his touch. "Baby... You are milking me dry..." He hisses, grasping my face and making me look at him. "Are you going to cum inside me, daddy? Are you going to fill me up?" I ask, gasping for air. My orgasm is only becoming intenser as he thrusts inside me in pursue of his own high. "If you call me daddy again, I might." He says through gritted teeth, making me smirk at him. "Daddy..." I moan, causing him to growl before cumming inside me after 2 short thrusts.

He is a sweaty, gasping mess as he collapses by my side. I look at the flames in the fireplace as I lay my head on his chest, feeling my body totally relaxed. "Well, Mrs. Clifford... What is in that pretty mind of yours?" Michael asks me as he kisses the top of my head. "Nothing. For the first time in a while, I have nothing to think of. Everything just... flows." I reply, tracing my fingers down his chest. "Well, to be honest, I am thinking of what to have for breakfast." He states and I chuckle, pressing a kiss on his collarbone. "Now I am thinking about that too... Definitely something loaded with cheese. Preferably Parmesan cheese." I suggest and he hums. "We will ask at the reception what's the perfect breakfast place in the area." He says, stroking my back. "Maybe we can go hiking after breakfast. And find a little store to buy stuff for dinner. I wanna cook for you..." I offer and he smiles. "We should do that." He murmurs. I cup his jaw, bringing my lips to his before sitting up and slipping my babydoll on. I pick up our glasses, leaving his on the floor by him as he pulls his sweats on. "I am famished. I need those crackers and cheese asap." I smile, taking a sip from my wine. "Did I wear you down, princess?" He asks, with a cocky smirk on his lips. "I could do this all night, pretty boy. I just need to fill up." I shrug and he hums.

Morning comes and I wake up in Michael's hug, which seems to be my happy place since I just woke up with the biggest smile on my face. He is still asleep, his lips parted as he snores softly. The sun hits the bed from the little circular window above it, making the bed a lot warmer now. I like to pretend that this is my everyday life, that every morning I get to wake up next to him, that we live in this cabin, and we make love by the fireplace, and no one else but us exists. But I know Monday will come and I will return home, to a man I don't love and doesn't love me, to a life I despise, to a life which sole happiness is my weekly meetings with the only man who loves me more than I love him.

It is no time to be sad, however. I have the whole weekend to take advantage of the fact I am Mrs. Clifford, live in my little fantasy. "Mr. Clifford..." I sing, trying to wake Michael up. "Mr. Clifford. Wake up..." I nudge him softly, straddling his waist as he stirs a little, groaning in his sleep. "Mr. Clifford, your wife is hungry, she needs you awake." I say softly, making him smile as he opens one eye. "My wife..." He says groggily, smiling at me. "Your wife. Me... I am registered as Mrs. Clifford for the weekend." I explain and he hums. "I would pay all my fortune for this to be real." He says, still between sleep and awareness. "It is real, and your very real wife is really, really hungry. So, up and let's get going." I suggest and he hums. "Can we stay in bed a little longer?" He asks, taking my hand in his. "No, I am hungry, Mikey. I've been up for half an hour now. And I need to fill my stomach. Please..." I pout, earning a groan from him. "Ok, go get ready. We will go get some breakfast, then hiking, as my lady requested last night, and then shopping for dinner. Dress warmly. Can't say no to my wife, can I?" He asks, sighing in defeat. "I don't think you can." I lean down, planting a kiss on his lips before getting up from the bed.

"Ah, Mr. And Mrs. Clifford... Up so early?" The lady from the front desk greets us as we enter the reception. "Oh, the wife is starving. We were wondering where in the area we could go for breakfast." Michael replies, running his thumb over my hip softly. "And any places we could go for a hike after breakfast? This scenery is worth exploring..." I comment and she hums softly. "I will give you a map of the area. There is a diner near a hiking trail, you will need to take your car and leave it there, but the hiking trail starts right after the diner. Here." She replies, marking the map for us before handing it to me. "Thank you." We say in unison, taking a look at the map.

I cradle the mug of hot chocolate in my hands while curling up on the little couch of our booth. "Why do you have to look so precious?" Michael asks me, leaning his face on his hands. "Someone has to..." I shrug, smirking at him. "Why do I sense that something changed?" He asks me, making me look at him with furrowed eyebrows. "What do you mean?" I ask him back, tilting my head at him. "Since we arrived... Something is different on you." He points out. "I don't know, Mikey. It might be... I was thinking last night, while you were sleeping. I will send the contracts to a friend of mine, ask him to weight in on the clause. There must be something. I don't want to live like that anymore, Michael. I will try to fix this, anyway I can." I state, making him smile at me. "Let's drink to that." He brings his cup to cling against mine.

The food is slowly cooking in the kitchen; I have at least 30 minutes until I will have to check if it is ready, so I grabbed my book and a glass of wine and head to the little balcony of the cabin. I am wrapped in a linen scarf, trying to protect myself from the chill that has covered the area since the sunset. "You are having second thoughts..." Michael comments, walking out in the balcony with me. "What? About what?" I ask as he takes a seat on the chair by my side. "About the house by the sea, with the big garden. You are thinking about a mountain house now, a little bit like this cabin." He states and I hum. "Well, it would be nice to have a little cabin. But just for me and you to escape in. The children will have to stay back to the house by the sea, with your parents to take care of them for the weekend. The cabin will be for me and you, a hidden little secret." I reply, reaching to take his hand in mine. "I love it." He mumbles, leaning in to press his forehead against mine. "I know you do." I breathe out, closing my eyes as I stay there, motionless, my forehead pressed against his as my hand leaves my book to travel to his cheek.

"Will I be seeing you this weekend?" Michael asks as I fix the buttons of my blouse. He is still naked, lying in bed with only the bedsheet covering just a bit of his body. "I wish. Saturday Edward is taking me to some investors' dinner. And Sunday, we are going to have lunch with the parents." I sigh, leaning down to kiss his lips. "I'll see you at dinner. I am going to be there..." He smirks, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. "Oooh... I am going to wear something nice then... Just for you." I reply, seconds before he pulls me in for a kiss again. "Can't wait to see you..." He mumbles against my lips, making me smile. "Will you lock the door after leaving?" I ask him, pulling away from him to continue getting dressed. "I always do, don't I?" He sighs, still staring at me. "Mikey... Don't be sad, please... You'll see me at dinner. And then next week, Friday as usual." I coo at him, earning a chuckle from him. "I miss our little cabin in the woods. I wish we could go back..." He pouts, making me sigh happily. "We will." I assure him, throwing him a smile. "Call me when you make it home, ok darling?" He asks me and I nod. "Of course, baby. I always do." I reply, leaning down for one last kiss.

The investors' dinner turned out to be way more interesting than lunch with the parents. Both families gathered in my parents' house, so the place is filled with obnoxious laughs and non-sense chatter. I hate it here, to the point it makes me sick to my stomach. The sight of the food on the table makes my stomach turn, a horrible taste crawling up my throat. "(Y/N), sweetheart... Are you alright? You look a little pale." My mother-in-law comments, making me whimper under my breath. "Too much champagne at the dinner last night... Why don't you go get some air, sweetheart?" Edward snarks, patting my thigh. I wince at his touch but cover it with a smile. "Maybe I should... Excuse me for a second..." I excuse myself, actually thankful for Edward's suggestion for once. I stand up from my chair and take a couple of steps before the room starts spinning and I collapse on the floor.

The smell of alcohol brings me back to my senses and I open my eyes to find everyone over my head. I am confused and disoriented, and I taste this metallic taste in my mouth. "Good... Let's get her to the car." My dad instructs and I am picked up, carried towards the front door. No one is talking, not while I am taken in the car nor during the drive to the hospital. And I decided that staying silent is the best thing I can do, at least until I exclude the possibility that the thought I have in my head since I was taken in the car.

I am seated on the Emergency pit, in one of the beds while some doctors take my vitals. "I will need you to give a urine sample." The doctor says, handing me a little cup. "We will take you to the OBGYN department. They will handle your case from now on." The doctor helps me off the bed, and I bite the inside of my cheek. "Please don't inform my family yet." I plead and the woman smiles at me. "I don't have anything to inform them on just yet." She replies, guiding me towards the OBGYN exam room.

I hand the nurse the urine sample, bouncing on my feet as she dips a strip inside the cup. We only wait for a couple of minutes for the test to show my results, but it is the longest I had to wait for anything in my life. "Doctor, we will need an ultrasound." The nurse announces, making a shiver run down my spine. I feel heat crawl up my face, my throat going dry as she doctor gestures toward the exam table. She gives me a paper gown to change into for my ultrasound, which I stare at for more than it is normal. "Sweetie, I need you to change." The doctor says softly. I nod my head and move behind the divider, changing into the gown.

Once I am on the bed, the doctor preps me for the ultrasound. "I will have to go transvaginally." She gives me a heads up to which I nod. "I know. Go ahead." I reply, fixing my gaze on the screen. It makes me feel some discomfort, only for a little, like every other time I have had an examination. The doctor twists the prob a little, fixing her eyes on the screen. "I would say you are six weeks far. Does that sound right based on your last period?" She asks me, while I look at the little bubble on the screen. "Yes... It does." I reply, smiling softly at the picture. Six weeks ago, I was in that little cabin with Michael, away from everyone, in our own little safe world. It sounds right that I got pregnant that weekend. "I suggest going to your regular doctor for a thorough check, but for now I can tell you that everything seems alright." She replies, taking the bubble's measurements. "Do I need to look at for anything right now?" I ask her as she turns off the machine. "Your doctor will tell you more. But I suggest you stay calm and watch what you are eating. If you are a smoker, consider cutting it, same goes with alcohol." She suggests and I hum. "Thank you. I will go get dressed." I smile at her, moving behind the divider.

"Love... Oh, you made me so happy today..." My dad is the first to hug me, making me panic at the realization they were told about my results. "They told you already?" I mumble. "They told me, my love. And I was so excited not to share the news with them... You are going to make me a father." Ed says cockily, giving me a look I can only translate as threatening. "Of course he told us. I can't wait to tell the whole company I am going to be a grandfather..." My dad cheers. "Maybe we shouldn't announce it yet. I mean, I am pretty early into the pregnancy, I don't want to jinx it." I rush to let out, causing everyone to gasp approvingly. "Of course, darling." Edward's father agrees, making Edward hum. "Of course. We wouldn't want anything to go wrong with our precious little baby." He smirks at me, making chills run down my spine. "We should all go celebrate." My dad is looking at me excitedly. "Father, if you allow it, I would like to take my wife back home. She needs rest and I want to spend some time with her." Edward steps in, wrapping his arms around my waist. I nearly puke, disgusted by his touch but also scared of the moment I will be alone with him. "The parents-to-be need some time together. Go. We will see you next weekend, for lunch. I am not taking no for an answer." My dad insists, making Ed chuckle.

The ride back to the house was silent, with Ed speeding up at times to scare me. I know that the silence won't last long, and I dread that moment. I am not only scared for myself, but the baby inside me as well. We walk into the house and he pulls me straight to the bedroom, dragging me by my arm. "6 weeks ago you told me you were with that classmate of yours... You were with him, weren't you?" He growls at me, forcing me to sit on the ottoman at the end of his bed. "I don't know what you are talking about..." I mumble and he chuckles. He looks like a mad person, making my heart skip a beat. "I am not an idiot, (Y/N). I've only fucked you once and it has been months since, nearly half a year. It's that Clifford dude, isn't it? You've been fucking around with him, and you were both stupid enough to get knocked up." He screams at my face. "Why do you care? You got what you wanted from me." I stand up, trying to walk out of the room. He grabs me by my arm, jerking me back to him. "You are hurting me." I protest and he chuckles. "I've let you do whatever you wanted until now. Now, listen to me. That bastard inside you is the best gift you could give me. Your father will be wrapped around my finger for giving him a grandchild. So, you break up with your little boy toy, he never finds out the mutt is his, or else I will destroy his life. I will make him so miserable, I will make him curse the day he met you." He says through gritted teeth, letting go of my arm violently. "You have a week to break up with him. Or else..." He threatens, tapping the underside of my chin. "Go... You need to rest." He orders, practically shoving me out of the door. I gasp as lock myself in my room, finally letting myself break down. I don't know what to think, or how to feel, or how to react to all of this. My mind is blank, totally empty at the moment. All I know is that I will protect this baby until my last breath. And that I will not let Edward hurt the only person I ever loved.

Friday came and I made it to the apartment way before Michael, in a way trying to practice what I want to tell him.

In my head, it makes no sense. But Edward always gets what he wants, so he will keep his word and destroy Michael if I don't comply with him. Punctual to the appointment, Michael unlocked the door at 7:30. He has the biggest smile on his face the moment he sees me lounging on the couch. "Baby, you are here already." He cheers, walking towards me. "I brought dumplings from your favorite place. Wanna start eating?" He asks me, lifting the bag to show me the food. "Michael, we need to talk." I pat the empty spot on the couch for him. He becomes more serious, leaving the bag on the coffee table. "What is it, love? Is everything ok?" He asks me, placing his hand on my thigh. "I've never loved anyone or anything more than I love you." I take his hand in mine, making him smile at me. "I know that, love. And I do too. I would do anything for you." He replies. "That's why we need to break up. I am trapped, but you don't have to be. I want you to move on with your life, find someone who is going to give you everything I can't." I state, making him sigh. "We have been through the same discussion before. I don't want anyone but you." He assures me but I shake my head. "Michael, this time I am serious. I want you to move on. I want you to go ahead and have a family, I want you to find a love that's going to make your dreams come true. I want you to build the house by the sea with the big garden for your wife and children, and the cabin in the woods for a little retreat. I want you to have 4 children and a bunch of dogs. I want you to grow old with someone you love and loves you back. I can't give you that. I am sorry." I tear up as I bring the words out of my mouth. Michael sniffles, shaking his head. "No. I don't care about all that. I want to be with you, this is enough for me." He insists, making my stomach hurt. "I thought you would take advice from a friend on the contract... I thought you wanted to fix this." He mumbles and I close my eyes, taking deep breaths. "I can't, Michael. I can't change things. Please, don't make this harder than it is. We can't get out of this. Well, I can't. But you still can. You can get out, you can build a life. Please. It's over for us." I sob, making him breathe out disappointed. "I'll leave. Since that's what you want. But I love you. And I will continue loving you. No matter what, forever." He murmurs as he tries not to break down crying before my eyes. He leans down to peck on my forehead, making my bottom lip quiver. I want to cry, beg him not to go. But I know that if I do, Edward is going to ruin his life. I watch him leave the key to my apartment on the table before he turns to walk out the door. I feel horrible, the worst I have ever felt in my life for breaking his heart and letting him down, but it is for the best. "Your father is a wonderful man. And he would love you so much if he knew you exist." I breathe out, placing my hand on my stomach. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, trying to calm myself down; stress is one of the forbidden things while I carry little peanut inside me. I reach for the bag on the table, picking the paper box out and opening it to dig in the dumplings. At least I get to eat my feelings away before returning home.

Edward is sitting on the couch, waiting for me to walk in. He has the sliest smile on his face, which gives me a headache already. "Your sweetheart just quit. Through email... Very unprofessional if you ask me. We are having a meeting Monday morning to appoint a new CEO... Guess who's the strongest candidate... The only candidate, actually. I love that bastard already." He cheers as I walk in, making my face scrunch up as I feel vomit crawling up my throat.

I have never felt as alone as I felt on the day I gave birth to my son. My parents and Edward's parents were there, along with Edward of course, who played the happy father and the loving husband, but the only person I longed for was absent, still in ignorance of our son's existence. I really dreamt of Michael just barging in the delivery room and holding my hand, even though I knew he wouldn't since he knew nothing. Since the day he quit from the company, he nearly vanished from the face of Earth, no one really knows where he left for. We named the baby Philip; at least Ed let me pick up the name. Philip sounds royal, fitting the little guy who as he grows he looks more and more like his father. Philip was and still is the only reason I am holding on. Edward stopped caring the moment he got the position he craved, only putting on the facade of the warm family guy whenever any of our parents were present, or someone he needed to impress. And Philip seems to not get along with anyone but me, always clinging to me. And to be honest, I am not letting him go, holding onto him all day long. I don't trust Ed; he seems disinterested, and at least for now he is not mistreating us, but I just can't trust that he will always be like that.

The two-year-old is fast asleep in my hug when my phone rings. I hope and pray he won't wake up as I reach for the coffee table to pick up my phone. I don't recognize the number, which makes me furrow; I don't get calls from people anymore, so this seems strange. "Hello?" I ask as I press the accept button. "It's me." I could recognize that voice amid a thousand others. I bite my bottom lip, leaving Philip carefully on the couch so he can continue sleeping while I talk. "I am in town for a few days. I really want to see you." Michael says after a moment of silence. "Michael..." I protest, seriously putting on an effort to turn him down once more. "Please. Just for an hour." He begs. I want to see him, for 3 years now since he's left, I have been dying to know how he is. "Where?" I ask him, giving in to my desire. "The penthouse. Tonight, at 8." He instructs. How does he know that I still have that house? "Just for an hour." I mumble, making him hum. "See you tonight." He replies before hanging up.

I can't stop myself from shaking in jitters, my body filling with anxiety. I haven't heard from him for 3 years, 3years that he could have followed my advice, gotten married, had children, bought my dream house for someone else. I am scared; I am scared that I will see him and he will tell me about his new family, or that I will admit we had a child. And that secret being revealed might cost him everything.

At 9, I unlock the door to my old penthouse. I haven't been here in years, but I paid for it getting cleaned twice a month, so it looks decent enough for two old lovers to meet. I know that the moment I see him, I will die inside, my stomach will fill with butterflies, and I will crave to be touched by him. And the knowledge I can't have him pains me, makes my head hurt. The ring of my doorbell makes me more anxious than before. He is here, behind this door. The love of my life is just milliseconds away from me. I open the door, revealing Michael who smiles at me. He looks better than ever, grown, more mature. And I feel my heart beating fast, my palms sweating. "I didn't think you would actually be here." He comments, walking further inside the house. "I said I would." I mumble. "You look great, my love." He comments, scanning me down. "You look... Well, I can't put it in words. But time treated you right." I smile, taking a deep breath. "Come sit. I won't bite, I promise. Well, only if you ask me to..." He says cockily.

I take a seat on the couch, keeping two cushions empty between us; I know it will be futile if I succumb, but for now, this limits me. "So, where were you all these years?" I ask, running my hands down my thighs to straighten my dress. "I left the night we broke up. Of course, you knew that. I had many job offers but I was staying here for you. So, when I lost you, I had nothing keeping me here. With the money I had in my account and the money I made from my job, I bought shares in the start-up company I was working on. Now I am the CEO and a shareholder. Pretty solid position if you ask me. The first few months after I left were difficult, I am not going to lie, but I managed to get through. I bought a house, overlooking the sea, with the biggest garden I could find. And I bought a cabin in the woods, made it just like the one we stayed at during that trip. I bought them in my name. But they will be titled as yours after you divorce Edward. Unless you prefer me passing them to Philip, our son." He says, pushing an envelope towards me. I gasp and look at him in shock, making him reach to take my hand in his. "You know?" I ask him and he nods. "I still have friends in the company. They told me your father threw this big party to announce it. I did the math... You got pregnant in the cabin, didn't you?" He asks me and I nod. "I couldn't tell you. He threatened me, he told me he would ruin your life." I begin explaining but he hushes me. "I know. Well, I suspected it. I battled with myself not to come and get you the moment I found out. But I knew I had to build a life for us, put us in a position where no one would be able to hurt us. So I did, and I hated every moment I wasn't with you and our baby. I hated every moment I imagined Edward holding our son." He groans, and I chuckle, wiping away my tears. "He didn't. He didn't care about us after he took your place. And Philip pretty much hates him, he cries hysterically every time Edward picks him up. And he only does when he needs to sell the image of the loving father and devoted husband." I reply and he chuckles. "I took the contract to a lawyer. She said that since you followed all the clauses, you can get a divorce from him without affecting the deal. The merge holds and you are free." Michael explains. "He will give us hell. And take us to the court about Philip." I point out. "Baby, you are a lawyer. Think about it. We will have a DNA test, prove Philip is mine. And he won't do shit. He knows that a court battle will harm him. He forced you to marry him, he abused you. He knows it won't look good on him. Nothing and no one is going to hurt us, baby. Not anymore, I won't allow it. Run away with me. Get our baby and run away with me." He says, moving closer to me to cup my face. "I was so scared that you would have gotten married, moved on as I suggested. So, so scared..." I mumble, feeling my cheeks become wet with tears. He presses his forehead against mine, stroking my cheeks and wiping away the tears. "Not yet, baby. You have to get divorced for me to get married. I had children, though. One, to be exact. Philip, who I can't wait to meet and hold in my arms." He whispers, making me chuckle softly.

Michael was right; Edward didn't say a word when I took Philip and packed my things. I filled for the divorce and Michael started the process to recognize our baby as his, the exact same day. Edward pretended to be deceived and heartbroken, to get everyone's good grace, but he didn't fight for custody. Everything was solved before Philip even turned 3. My parents practically disowned me after everything, which I didn't care much about. I didn't want a claim in a fortune that was built and grown on my unhappiness. Plus, (Y/N) Clifford sounds dreamy. The house by the beach surpassed all expectations. It has this vintage vibe that I love, with the prettiest garden ever, in which Philip and Michael run around all day on the weekends. I am pretty sure Philip doesn't understand much, so I will have to explain more when he grows up, but he adores Michael and calls him daddy, which makes Michael melt in a puddle.

I work with Michael now, in the legal department of the company, which is something that I couldn't do before since Edward wanted me to be a trophy wife. I have a pretty office with a view, friendly colleagues. But honestly, the best thing is working with Michael, getting to spend more time with him every day. We even got married, in a small vineyard, with a few people present, mostly his family and a couple of coworkers. It was magical, the best day of my life, truly. It's just me and him that matters. Philip also, of course. But everyone from my past seems to be muted, almost deleted.

And now I am sitting on the warm grass, with the sun hitting on my face and our dog laying on my lap, while Michael and Philip are dressed as superheroes, playing around, with Michael lifting Philip in the air to fly. He is an amazing dad already, and I can't wait to see him grow more into this role. "Hey, superheroes... Snack time. And you both need sunscreen." I shout at them, making Michael giggle. "Let's fly to mama... Come on." Michael cheers, running to me with Philip in his arms. He lets Philip on the blanket, making the toddler giggle. I hand him his cheese sandwich, planting a kiss on his forehead before standing up. "Hi, mama," Micheal mumbles as he helps me up. "Hi, daddy." I reply, cupping his jaw in my hands. "I am trying to make him tired and get him to bed early tonight..." He wiggles his eyebrows at me, making me chuckle at him. "I have my money on Philip spending you down before you do." I reply, tracing the hem of his cape. "We need to give him a sibling... Maybe a little sister." He mumbles, lifting my chin. "Yeah, that doesn't sound that bad, to be honest." I sigh, smirking at him. "Maybe we should go to our little cabin this weekend... Mommy and daddy retreat." He suggests, earning a hum from me. "It's been a while since the last visit." I cock an eyebrow at him. "Sounds to me like it is time for another trip there, Ms. Clifford." He licks his lips, leaning closer to kiss me.

My Masterlist

[lastsonlost]

After the first episode of "The Mandalorian," the Disney Plus series in the Star Wars universe that became the top streaming hit of 2019, aired on the platform, some Twitter users expressed frustration at how few women spoke, and how few female characters there were in general.

Some of those who tweeted, including well-known feminist critic Anita Sarkeesian, were met with dogpiling and waves of harassment across social media platforms. 

The harassment largely stemmed from anti-feminist Star Wars fan accounts who rounded up and highlighted tweets under the pretense that those complaining were "outraged" social justice warriors trying to tear down a successful Star Wars franchise.

The harassment is just the latest instance of feminist fandom voices being shut down online.

Anita Sarkeesian is no stranger to online harassment,

YEA SHES VERY GOOD AT MAKING THEM.

 being one of the central figures in Gamergate, the online harassment campaign that resulted in her receiving numerous death and rape threats, along with bomb and shooting threats at her events. But even she was surprised at the amount of vitriol her tweet about "The Mandalorian" received.

After watching the first episode of the Star Wars series for Disney Plus, Sarkeesian tweeted asking if she was just tired, or if there wasn't "a single female speaking character in the first episode."

She was exhausted, Sarkeesian told Insider — missing the one scene where a woman spoke and making a typo in her tweet. In the replies, Sarkeesian corrected herself. Then she went to bed. In the morning, the tweet had more than 3,000 replies. It currently has close to 7,000.

"Maybe you should switch to The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills... I'm sure you'll find much to relate to there...." one top reply read.

"No wonder you're so tired. They say you should stretch before making such reaches, especially at your age," said another, with more than 1,400 likes of its own.

It's an example of dogpiling, a type of online harassment where, on Twitter, someone's replies outnumber likes and retweets, and are mostly filled with repetitive, hurtful comments.

"It's ironic. Women, especially feminists, get accused of being emotional and angry and all of these things when all we said was 'Hey, I noticed this thing. And it's kind of a problem, and I think it's really bad for our society,'" Sarkeesian told Insider. "If they didn't reply to it, my tweet would have just been gone. They made it a much bigger deal."

Sarkeesian is the most prominent figure facing dogpiling and harassment in response to her criticism of the series, but she's not the only one.

People with and without large Twitter followings, some who are verified and many who are not, have found themselves overwhelmed with anti-feminist replies and messages across platforms after tweeting about how few women are in "The Mandalorian."

Specifically, in the first episode, there's one female character wearing a mask who speaks, and two female characters total, along with a few women spotted as extras in the background of shots. More female characters are expected to play larger roles in future episodes.

"Even if you want to give the show the benefit of the doubt and say there's some big, wild justification that's going to come around in episode 7, it feels wrong that the vast majority of this world is populated by men or male-identified characters," Sarkeesian said.

Star Wars fans have a history of harassing women online when faced with criticism

Online harassment in the Star Wars fandom, particularly of women, is nothing new. Actresses like Daisy Ridley and Kelly Marie Tran of the latest Disney-owned Star Wars trilogy have recently talked about the negative aspects of the Star Wars community.

Ridley, who stars in the newest Star Wars trilogy as Rey, "cut off" her Facebook and Instagram accounts "like a Skywalker limb" due to harassment, and Tran faced racist and misogynistic harassment after appearing as the first woman of color in a leading role in the Star Wars franchise.

"It wasn't their words, it's that I started to believe them," Tran wrote for The New York Times after deleting her Instagram posts in 2018. "Their words seemed to confirm what growing up as a woman and a person of color already taught me: that I belonged in margins and spaces, valid only as a minor character in their lives and stories."

In the case of "The Mandalorian," almost anyone who tweets about the show from a feminist perspective is at risk of being targeted, because Star Wars fan accounts are rounding up tweets that criticize things like the amount of time it took for a woman to speak in the first episode.

One account rounded up 33 of these tweets with the caption "SJW's are outraged over the 'lack of female characters' in the first 2 episodes of The Mandalorian. A show with 3 female characters. Feminists only care about counting the number of minutes women are on screen in Star Wars."

Insider spoke with two people whose tweets were featured in the round-up, who said their tweets were mischaracterized, inspiring a wave of online hate.

Both of the people who spoke with Insider said they liked "The Mandalorian" and will continue watching it, but wanted to point out that it could be better in terms of female representation.

One woman who spoke to Insider anonymously, because she is trying to distance her name from the situation, says the harassment began several days after she posted her initial tweet about a lack of women in the first episode.

After receiving anti-feminist replies on Twitter, she also started getting harassed across platforms, in part because other anti-feminist Star Wars accounts picked up screenshots of her tweet after it was first included in the round-up and distributed to an even wider audience, including on Instagram.

One person even left a violent message for her in the email submission form on her professional website. It reads "People like you don't deserve a f---ing opinion, but at least I'm glad you can voice it. Doesn't prevent me from calling you f---ing r-----ed for spouting your misandry. HOW DOES IT F---ING FEEL C---? I hope you expire and never have children."

"I had to put everything on private, for my own mental health," she told Insider. "I just had to shut down my profile. I will never, ever, ever tweet about Star Wars again. And I love baby Yoda so much. But I can't. They won. Life's too short for me to fight this fight."

Even after setting her accounts to private, she was inundated by hundreds of follow requests on Twitter, along with DMs sent to her private Instagram.

Those who tweeted about female representation in 'The Mandalorian' stand by their words, despite the harassment

The person who tweeted the round-up of critics didn't want to share any identifying information with Insider, but did stand behind the tweet, and said they didn't participate in or encourage harassment, but the reach of the account became clear once Insider asked for comment in the replies. Within a few hours, a video had been uploaded about this article (which had not been written yet) to YouTube from a channel with more than 130,000 subscribers.

The video in question has been viewed more than 33,000 times and highlights the mentality in at least one corner of the Star Wars fandom that is male-dominated and is aggressive toward diverse media representation.

"What SJWs do is as soon as this kind of thing happens, they identify [the Twitter account that posted the round-up] as hostile to their narrative [...] I would call them left-wing garbage," the voiceover of YouTuber ComicArtistPro Secrets says in the video. "They are going to come in and write an article smearing [the Twitter account], 'Don't you dare shine a light on these cockroaches in such an effective way ever again,'" The YouTuber mocked, referring to the feminist critics as the "cockroaches" in the situation.

"This is a strategy that these sorts of anti-progressive, very regressive cyber mobs have used for years," Sarkeesian said. "They try to use social justice language against us when we try to bring these issues up but it's so transparent and so obvious what they're trying to do, by undermining our point. It's very bad faith."

Writer and programmer David Ely, a male who's tweet was included in the roundup, told Insider that his replies were pretty tame in comparison to Sarkeesian and the other woman Insider spoke to, although he did receive one unspecified death threat from an account that he blocked.

"Part of the response seems to come from a belief that Star Wars needn't be political. That it be pure entertainment," Ely told Insider. "Star Wars is a made-up universe. If gender inequality exists there, it's either on purpose, or because the creator's biases meant they didn't notice it. Either way, that's political."

Sarkeesian also stood by her original point that "The Mandalorian" should have more female characters, and said a lot of the negative response was because there's so much pushback from people who have historically been over-represented on the screen, and are hostile to the changing expectations for diverse characters that represent the diverse Star Wars fanbase.

"We are so accustomed to male-dominated narratives that it's easy to not even notice glaring omissions," she said. "Unlike if the entire cast had been women, I suspect everyone would have immediately noticed that regardless of what one's opinion would be on that casting choice."

MAYBE ITS NOT FOR YOU ANITA....

[crzytwn]

Becleo

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

Leo, he’s a loud boy

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

UHh I feel like Becca but not in like  “fuck you, I’m leaving” way? More like “fuck me i should remove myself!”??

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?

Neither of them. V v attached at the asshole.

Who trashes the house?

Neither.

Do either of them get physical?

god no.

How often do they argue/disagree?

All the time but like RARELY for real.

Who is the first to apologise?

Depends on the argument really but neither of them are like stingy with the sorries.

Sex:

Who is on top?

They both have off and on bottom energy so I’m gonna say switchies.

Who is on the bottom?

See above

Who has the strangest desires?

Becca, she reads more and she’s a lil freak

Any kinks?

I’m almost certain but I’m not gonna think about it.

Who’s dominant in bed?

Becca’s p bossy so

Is head ever in the equation?

Head is ALWAYS in the equation. 

If so, who is better at performing it?

Leo is nothing if not a feminist, also I just feel like he would not be that great with his stroke game in the beginning and like would end up with more practice.

Ever had sex in public?

For sure

Who moans the most?

Uhhh Becca???

Who leaves the most marks?

???

Who screams the loudest?

Fuck if I know

Who is the more experienced of the two?

Unless it’s the “Becca Fucks Zac” au of our Becleo au, then idk I’m assuming they’d only bone each other?

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

Both!

Rough or soft?

Both but I feel like Leo stans soft

How long do they usually last?

Awhile!

Is protection used?

Idk how magic sex ed works and I do not intend to think on it!

Does it ever get boring?

No 😌

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

I feel like I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Leo REALLY wants to fuck on a quidditch pitch or at least under the bleachers.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children?

ya 

If so, how many children do your muses want/have?

One or two??

Who is the favorite parent?

Becca, Leo’s cool but unless the band blows up he’s probably away a lot with Quidditch

Who is the authoritative parent?

Becca, I feel like with Alicia Leo never learned how to be one nor does he like want to be nor CAN he be, he always wants to be everyone’s friend first.

Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school?

LEO

Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around?

I feel like there’s no need for like “when the other isn’t around”

Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children?

Both but Becca is the best about it

Who goes to parent teacher interviews?

Becca, Leo is the type to not be allowed back

Who changes the diapers?

Magic

Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?

Magic or Becca

Who spends the most time with the children?

Becca

Who packs their lunch boxes?

Leo, can Becca even cook??

Who gives their children ‘the talk’?

Leo’s idea for doing it is somehow too blunt and too vague and Becca’s is so technical and weird, so they end up doing it together and everyone is EMBARASSED.

Who cleans up after the kids?

Magic or Becca, Leo’s lazy

Who worries the most?

BECCA

Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from?

Aunt Kelsey

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? 

Both!

Who is the little spoon?

Becca!

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

Leo? Maybe?

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  

???????????????????

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

Forever and ever and ever

Who gives the most kisses?

As if they could keep track. I’m sure it’s an argument.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?

The OG hang out activity, cuddling and book chatting and occasionally Leo being drooled on

Where is their favourite place to cuddle? 

?? idk man literally I have no idea where the cuddling goes on nor have I EVER

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other?

Becca, feels on brand.

How often do they get time to themselves?

For the amount of friends they’re attached at the hip to, finding sizable alone time for the book chats has never been a problem for them 

Sleeping:

Who snores? If both do, who snores the loudest?

I just feel like Becca does.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?

Seperately at first ofc, but even in school I feel like they would’ve managed to find a lot of excuses to share.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

COZY AS TIGHT AS POSSIBLE.

Who talks in their sleep?

Uh Leo, he’s more anxious than he lets on so it probably gets pushed out somewhere

What do they wear to bed?

🤐

Are either of your muses insomniacs?

No?

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

I dunno, they magic

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

COBRA 

Who wakes up with bed hair?

They both do but Leo refuses to be seen with his

Who wakes up first?

Leo, so Becca won’t see the bed head.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

Leo, I sure do not remember Becca being able to cook

What is their favourite sleeping position?

Idk in theory it’s probably being all wrapped up but I’m sure Leo likes blood flow to his arms

Who hogs the sheets?

Idk

Do they set an alarm each night?

Leo probably does for his narcissistic purposes, also sports ppl probably have to wake up early

Can a television be found in their bedroom?

ya, movie nights

Who has nightmares?

Becca???

Who has ridiculous dreams?

Leo, he IS ridiculous

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

Becca?

Who makes the bed?

Becca but also idk magic

What time is bed time?

When they go to bed idfk

Any routines/rituals before bed?

Probably, they do so much together nighttime is probably a well oiled machine.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

Becca probably because she stayed up most of the night reading

Home:

Who does the washing?

Magic

Who takes out the trash?

Magic

Who does the ironing?

Magic

Who does the cooking?

Leo

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

?? Becca? Because books?

Who is messier?

Leo because he’s lazy but he’s not even that messy because he thinks it makes him look bad.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty?

Leo

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

Neither of them

Who forgets to flush the toilet?

NEITHER OF THEM! 

Who is the prankster around the house?

Leo, but Becca gets in her little moods.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

Neither they have magic.

Who mows the lawn?

Magic

Who answers the telephone?

Becca but only because Leo would be too busy standing there going “WHO CALLS PEOPLE?”

Who does the vacuuming?

Magic

Who does the groceries?

Whoever can

Who takes the longest to shower?

Leo

Who spends the most time in the bathroom?

Contrary to popular belief, it is NOT Leo. He’s manages to cut down his primping time in the bathroom by micro primping whenever he’s near a reflective surface. besides 

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem?

No, they both seemed fairly well off and probably got really good jobs so def not.

How many cars do they own?

None

Do they own their home or do they rent?

Own

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?

Are they city people? I think they’re city people but if Becca wanted to live out her Pemberley fantasies in the countryside, Leo would be more than willing to go.

Do they enjoy their surroundings?

For sure

What’s their song?

I don’t know! I’m sure we’ve given them many but today it is I hear a symphony by Cody Fry

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Text or owl each other

Where did they first meet?

The halls of Hogwarts

How did they first meet?

u already know, u wrote it

Who spends the most money when out shopping?

Leo, he has a problem because MOST of it will be for Lit

Who’s more likely to flash their assets?

Neither, that’s not really who either of them are? They both HAVE a lot and it’s like probably obvious but they’re not the FLASHING type

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

Leo, but it’s like so endearing when Becca falls

Any mental issues?

Probably, but I’m not diagnosing today

Who’s terrified of bugs? Who kills the spiders around the house?

Becca is scared, Idk how Leo deals with bugs tho, bug guts are def too much for him to handle.

Their favourite place?

Who KNOWS

Who pays the bills? 

Autopay or magic

Do they have any fears for their future?

Becca is BIG afraid of divorce

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

Both, they really are Grand Gestures: The 

Relationship

Who uses up all of the hot water?  

Leo but they have magic so it’s fine. Plus they’d share a lot anyway

Who’s the tallest?

Leo

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

Becca because Leo just takes so damn long but also Leo because horny

Who wanders around in their underwear?

Feels on brand for both idk

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

It’s a duet!

What do they tease each other about?

Any and everything!

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

Neither, they’re both so goddamn preppy. I think Leo would cringe if Becca wore any Darcy merch in his presence but dassit.

Do they have mutual friends? Who crushed first? Any alcohol or substance related problems?  

The friend group is really the Becleo mutual friends circle when you think about it.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

Leo because I assume people are like that.

Who swears the most?

Uhhh Leo? But not that much because he doesn’t strike me as the type to swear around ladies if he can avoid it, he really loves old school chivalry 

[wetsteve3]

1948 Indian 45ci Big Base Factory Racing Motorcycle Engine no. FDH 141· Only one number away from Floyd Emde's '48 Daytona winning Indian · One of between 25 and 100 Big Base racers made · One of perhaps the most significant post war Indian models made 'The Big Base project paid off handsomely on March 14, 1948. Floyd Emde, heretofore a prominent Harley racer, won the 200 miles beach classic at the record pace of 84.01mph. For 1948, the Daytona course had been lengthened from its former 3.2 miles distance to 4.1 miles, resulting in the lengthening of each of the two straights to almost two miles. Consequently, a new race record was virtually assured.' (Jerry Hatfield, American Racing Motorcycles.) 'The starting line-up of the 1948 Daytona 200 was symbolic of the changing balance of power in American motorcycle racing... Harley-Davidson was holding its share of competition racers, but Indian was losing ground to Norton, BSA and Triumph.' But that's another story for another time.' That glorious day on the beach, Emde was riding his Big Base Scout engine no. FDH 140. The bike for sale is FDH 141. When Indian went to war after Pearl Harbor, three different models were conscripted, and the factory even developed a completely new machine to do battle with Field Marshall Rommel and his vaunted Afrika Korps. While rival Harley-Davidson got the bigger military contracts, Indian still contributed 40,000-plus machines to the war effort, supplying bikes to US armed services and those of our allies. By far the most prolific of war Indians was the 741B Scout, some 35,000 of which saw service. Power came from a 30.50ci (500cc) v-twin repurposed from the pre-war Junior Scout. To cope with the low-octane gasoline often found in war zones, compression ratio was lowered, which also aided reliability and made kickstarting easier – never a bad thing when someone is shooting at you. Clearly Indian could mass produce tough, easy to fix, ridable motorcycles. But could they go racing in a post-WW2 America? While full-fendered Fours and Chiefs were the company's flagships, it was stripped-down 750cc Sport Scouts that had given Indian most of its racetrack glory throughout the 1930s right up until the attack on Pearl Harbor put most racing on hold. Performance was stressed from the model's first advertisement in 1934: 'Acceleration, speed, agility, the Sport Scout 45, streamlined from the ground up,' promised the copy. That boast was more than fulfilled in 1937 when Ed 'Iron Man' Kretz took a Sport Scout to victory in the inaugural AMA 200-miler on the sands of Daytona Beach. A reputation for outright top speed was taken care of later that year when former racer and Pasadena Police motor officer Fred Ludlow rode a tuned example to 128.57mph on California's Muroc Dry Lake. No new Sport Scout street bikes were produced after WW2 but the factory did conjure up a special batch of so-called 'Big Base' engines so Indian could continue doing battle with their great rival, Harley-Davidson. The hot-rodded Sport Scouts gave a good account of themselves, starting with another Daytona 200 win in 1947 with smooth-riding Johnny Spiegelhoff at the controls. Next year it was Indian rider Floyd Emde's turn to take the Daytona 200 headlines on his Big Base Scout. Could Indian go racing! More victories followed notched up by the famous 'Indian Wrecking Crew' consisting of Bobby Hill, Bill Tuman and Ernie Beckman – like Kretz, Ludlow, Spiegelhoff and Emde, all AMA Hall of Famers. Hill rode a Sport Scout to 11 AMA national wins and was Grand National Champion in 1951 and 1952. Tuman, with a total of five nationals, also had the distinction of being the last Sport Scout rider to wear the GNC crown when he took the title in 1953. Beckman won nationals three times in his career, and at the Williams Grove Half-Mile in 1953 was the last Indian rider to take the checkers at an AMA race – until 2017, that is, when a reconstituted Indian Motorcycle Company began racing once again. In appearance, Big Base crankcases were similar to standard Sport Scout units, but they were specifically built for racing purposes. 'Despite having (supposedly) 98 percent commonality of parts with the defunct prewar Sports Scouts, the new "big base" Scouts had significant internal and external differences...an updated version of the several experimental prewar racers.' The flywheels were narrower, of cast steel and with an Army shaftdrive counterweight pattern. The crankshaft was well modified especially its lubrication. The pistons were now 'heavily-domed' which in turn required combustion chamber modification. There was a new aluminum oil pump connected to a new style oil tank. The new Edison-Splitdorf magneto required some cylinder fin cutting. These were just a few of the improvements. While there is much confusion about how many Big Base Scout motors were actually built by Indian, most agree it was no less than 25 and no more than 100.