#shes more worried about ~the economy~ than basic human rights from how she was talking about considering voting trump for lower

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[tonystarksfavoritedaughter]

Crazy Rich Avengers: Chapter 2

Peter Parker x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tony is oblivious, Shuri is a queen as always, Peter is breakfast man and Y/N’s a grandma

Warnings: swearing and one mention of sex

Word count: 2589

*Flashback to Wednesday*

“Alright troops, let’s get this party started.” Tony walked into the debriefing room that was used for only meetings, but this week it had a new purpose: discussing Wanda and Vision’s wedding plans. Everyone was gathered around a circular table with plans and maps strewn out across the table.

“What made you guys want to get married in Maui?” Nat turned to Wanda and Vision. Wanda simply shrugged, “We just wanted to see what the island has to offer.”

“Plus Mr. Stark has that lovely beach house in Spreckelsville,” Vision added.

“Are y’all inviting Peter and Y/N to the wedding?” Sam asked

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we?” Wanda seemed kind of offended that Sam would ask that. She was very close with Peter and the way he talked about you always made her warm inside knowing that he found someone he really loved. She was kind of like a second aunt to him in a way, though no one could top Aunt May.

“Oh, I love Y/N so much. Did you guys tell her happy birthday two weeks ago?” Nat asked.

A couple of ‘I forgot’’ and ‘Oh shit’ replies made their way into the group and Nat just shook her head.

“Wait wait wait. Who’s Y/N?” Tony was so confused. He had never heard of a Y/N Y/L/N before. Was she an employee close with Wanda? And why was she with Peter?

“What do mean who’s Y/N?” Steve asked.

“She’s Peter’s girlfriend, Stark.” Bucky stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it kind of was. Peter would come into the Compound on the weekends sometimes for training and just gush about you to everyone and even Bucky seemed to know who you were. And he never pays attention to Peter. Tony just sat there, not knowing what to say to hearing his intern having a girlfriend.

“Pete has girlfriend?” How come you all knew and I didn’t?”

Thor took a swig of his drink. “Because you do not listen to the Man of Spiders.”

At this moment Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye walk in, with papers and blueprints in only T’Challa and Okoye’s hands, while Shuri sips her iced coffee, like the bad bitch she is.

“Hey what’s up losers?” She walked in and took the papers from their hands and spread them out on the table. She turned to Wanda and Vision. “Okay so I developed a knew sound system for the reception that does not require a DJ, and you can choose which one you want!” They all look at the plans and sure enough, there were about four different designs that they could choose from. Wanda and Vision had put Shuri in charge of all the technological elements of the wedding because she was clearly the smartest out of all of them.

T’Challa stepped up to the table. “Sorry we are late; my sister had to bring all of her designs and took about three hours to pack.”

“What? I have to look my best for the wedding. We all know you just throw clothes into a suitcase and call it a day.” She turned towards everyone else. “The only shoes he brought were his flip flops.”

“What you don’t like my royal sandals?” He puts up his foot to show off his shoes and turned to Okoye for support. She just shook her head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this, but if I were to choose a side, I agree with Shuri.”

Shuri laughed in T’Challa’s face and fist bumped Okoye and he looked at them and shook his head.

“What do you two know what fashion?” He asked.

“More than you,” they both said at the same time. This got everyone laughing around the table and Steve did his classic belly laugh where he grabbed the side of his chest and basically fell over.

Shuri turned to Wanda, “So, whose all invited to your big day?”

“Well, we invited Peter and Y/N –“

“Yes! Sorry I just can’t wait to meet her for the first time. Go on.”

Wanda laughed, “Aren’t we all? Also, Peter’s friend Ned is invited because he helps us all out on missions. What is it he calls himself?”

“The Guy in the Chair,” Vision replied.

“Ah yes, and of course all of you people. We wanted to keep it small,” Wanda finished.

“You know,” Sam started, turning to the royal bunch. “Stark over here didn’t know that Pete had a girlfriend.”

“What?” They all three gasped.

Okoye spoke this time, “We live all the way in Wakanda, and knew about this. You live twenty minutes away.”

“We know. It’s ridiculous,” Rhodey spoke.

“Okay and is there a specific song that you are walking down to?” Shuri asked.

“We chose the song ‘To My Future Wife’ by Mr. Jon Bellion,” Vision replied

“Oh, I love his songs!”

“We figured it represented our love for each other,” Wanda looked at Vision and gave him a peck on the lips, with hearts in both of their eyes. A bunch of aw’s filled the room as a response to the couple.

*Flashback ends*

You wake up at around three thirty in the morning to your alarm. You were essentially trapped in Peter’s arms and had to pry yourself out to get up and get ready. You threw a pillow at him to wake him up.

“What was that for?” He groaned.

“Come on. We got to get up or we’ll miss the flight.”

He got up with a sigh and got ready. He just dressed in jeans and that tight black t-shirt that you loved. Why would he pick that for a flight? You bit your lip and just turned away getting ready yourself. You picked out your black leggings and a white shirt because you wanted to be comfy for the 12+ hour flight ahead of you.

You packed your purse as your carry on which had your phone chargers, headphones, perfume, you know, the essentials for flying.

“What are we going to do for breakfast?” He asked. Peter was a breakfast man and so deciding what to eat in the morning was very important for him.

“There’s a coffee place at the airport; don’t worry, Pete.”

You left your apartment at around four in the morning and made sure that everything was turned off and nothing was out of the ordinary. You two take an Uber to JFK and almost fell asleep again. One thing was for sure, you were taking a nap as soon as you got on the plane. When you got there, you checked in with the front desk and saw that your flight would take off at 5:30am. So, you took Peter to the little coffee stand in the airport to get him some energy and food. He got a mocha iced coffee with a blueberry scone and you got a caramel macchiato and a breakfast bagel. You sat down near where your flight would be boarding and ate your food. You were so excited to eat because your favorite breakfast item was just a good bacon, egg, and cheese bagel. You bit into it and sighed out in a state of peace.

You had downloaded a few episodes of your favorite shows on your laptop so you and Peter could watch them together. You had downloaded some from The Office, Brooklyn 99, Parks and Rec, and The Good Place. You pulled out your laptop and headphones and gave one earbud to Peter so he could watch too. You decided to watch the episode of The Office where Michael hosts the Fun Run for Rabies.

About an hour later they started to board for your flight and packed everything up and walked over to the flight attendant.

“Right this way,” she said. She led you past the economy class and into first class and you started to get suspicious. There was no way you could afford this. Sure, you had some money put into savings, but it wasn’t much. She led you into one of cabins and you put your purse down.

“Uh ma’am?” You called out.

“Yes?”

“Um there must be some mistake, I mean… we’re economy people. Like, we’re broke, there’s no way that we’re in first class.”

“Are you sure? You two are Y/N Y/L/N and Peter Parker, right?” She asked confused.

“Tony, I swear,” Peter sighed.

“What?”

“I told Mr. Stark to not upgrade us because we were fine, but I guess he didn’t listen.”

“Oh.”

The flight attendant walked away and you fell on the bed. The cabin had a little TV on the opposite wall and the bed facing it. Night tables were on both sides of the bed with little lamps that made it kind of cozy. You walked around the small room looking at the different little pictures of beaches from different countries. There were a set of silk pajamas on your nightstand and you held them up to Peter.

“These are nicer than my actual clothes!” Peter just laughed at how excited you were and pulled you down on the bed. He rubbed your thighs and started to kiss your neck and sucked lightly and slowly worked his way up to your ear and nibbled on it.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I am not having sex on a plane,” you laughed.

He laid down on the bed with you, “Well what do you wanna do then?”

“Tell me about everyone that’s going to be there. I want to be prepared to meet them when we get there.”

“Okay for starters, there’s Wanda and Vision, Wanda has like these mind-reading powers, so be careful about what you’re thinking around her. There have been plenty of times where I’ve thought about you in an adult way that’s caused her to not to be near me sometimes. But she’s awesome. She’s kind of like my second aunt when May’s not around; we’re really close.”

“Good to know. It’s also a good thing she’s not here right now because all I can think about is you in that shirt,” you wink at him.

He laughs and kisses your nose, “Vision is also pretty cool. You’ve seen Vision in like pictures and everything so you know he can shift between robot and human form, so that’s cool. Um, he’s just really chill and laid back. There’s also Sam and Bucky.”

“Oh yeah you’ve told me about them. Do they still tease you a lot?”

“Not much anymore, but I’m sure they will when they see us together,” he sighed. Yesterday when he went to the Compound for his camera, they had mentioned that Peter wouldn’t be getting much packing done if he knew what they meant. Peter did know what they meant and just rolled his eyes at them.

“Sam’s pretty cool when he’s not teasing me, and then he’s kind of a jerk, but overall he’s cool; you’ll probably get along more with him than anyone. He’s got a good sense of humor so,” he trailed off.

“Oh okay. Now what about Bucky?”

“Bucky still doesn’t really like me, all because of what happened in Berlin.”

“Sounds like he’s petty.”

“Yeah he kind of is,” he laughed.

He goes through telling you about all the Avengers and what they’re like. They all sounded pretty chill and fun to hang around.

“By the way, Ned is going to be there.”

“What? Really?” You neatly shouted because you haven’t seen him since about a month before college classes started. He had gone all the way to MIT for college, and the last time you saw him, was when you and Peter had helped him move into his dorm.

“Why is he going?”

“He’s like our ‘Guy in the Chair’ for the team. Tells us where to go on missions, and helps out with the team, so I guess Wanda and Vision wanted him there.”

“At least there will be someone I know and close with,” you laugh at Peter’s fake hurt expression.

“You’ll have me, baby.”

“Yeah, but you’ll probably be talking to everyone and doing wedding stuff and I’ll be just hanging out. But now I have Ned! Now, tell me about Mr. Tony Stark. I know he’s kind of like your father-figure as you put it sometimes. Do you think he’ll like me, or will he go all Papa Bear on me and tell me that I’m not good enough?” You joked.

“He should be cool with you. Mr. Stark’s a pretty easy-going guy so I don’t think there will be a problem. Unless you try to crash the wedding,” he smiled.

“Yeah I’m totally gonna crash it and just get shit-faced at the wedding.” It was now close to seven o’clock in the morning and you and Peter were wide awake and couldn’t go back to sleep and still had another thirteen hours to go, so you just pulled your laptop back out and put on one of your shows and cuddled with Peter.

He held your waist against his and laid his head on top of yours. Your arms were wrapped around his torso and head on his chest, watching TV. You stayed like this for a couple of hours. You eventually got bored and started playing a game on your phone.

“Whatcha playing?” He asked.

“Candy Crush.”

He laughed at your game choice. “You’re such a grandma.”

“What? Just because I like candy crush that makes me grandma?’

“Yep.”

You lightly slap his chest as a response and watched his smile turn wide into a laugh. God those eye crinkles, I swear, you thought. It was kind of true though, everyone in your family and in high school called you the grandma friend of the group because you picked crocheting and baking of all hobbies, just like a grandma. And apparently Candy Crush was now considered a grandma game.

“Okay, I’d like to see you beat an ultra-hard level where you only have twenty moves to save 10 gummy bears,” you challenged him.

“Is that seriously a level on there?”

“Yes, and I beat it on the first try. Why, you scared?”

“No, had me your phone.”

You gladly give it to him and throughout the level you have to hold in your laughs because seeing his face scrunch up in frustration may have been the best thing ever.

“Shit!” He exclaimed

“What, did you lose?”

“No,” he lied. You held out your hand for your phone and saw that he lost on the level.

“Ha! Loser,” you poked his chest as you teased him. “It’s a shame you lost though, because losers don’t get prizes.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s my prize?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrugged. “Guess you got to win if you want to find out.”

This time he held out his hand for your phone. “Just know, you got four more chances to win before you run out of lives.” Peter tried so hard at the game and gently slammed your phone in frustration and you giggled. Let’s just say that Peter didn’t get his prize. The rest of the flight consisted of watching TV and eating the surprisingly amazing airline snacks. When the nighttime came, the flight attendants turned all the lights off, kind of like a silent go to sleep call for all the passengers. You and Peter snuggled up against each other and waited for the rest of the flight to be over.  

Tag-List: @randomstufflol29 @spideyspeaches @binnotjin @lolooo22 @multi-universe21​ @ladykxxx08​ 

A/N: We got an Avengers flashback! Yay! I really wanted to incorporate the Wakandan bunch because a) Black Panther is my favorite movie, and b) They are all just amazing and I love the way that Shuri and Okoye tease T’Challa all the time and wanted to put that in this. The whole Candy Crush scene had actually happened to me before and I thought it would be nice to add a piece of me in the story, and Candy Crush is honestly underrated if you ask me lol. I hope you all really like this chapter, because the next one is going to be awesome! Thank you all for reading!

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 4

Warning, if it hasn't been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

Originally posted on my Ao3 Crystallclover. (Incase you missed it) Chapter Three 

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter 4: When the Machine Starts

Summary: “ALL REMAINING SYSTEMS WILL REMEMBER THIS, AS THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW EMPIRE!!!” Cannon fire was heard in the distance.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Y/N? What do you think,” asked Carter.

You thought for a moment and answered, “I don’t know, this is all so much to take in. When are you guys thinking about registering? I don’t want to go alone, there will be too many people.”

“I was thinking about going tomorrow morning. The registration office closest to me doesn’t open until 9 AM but I want to guarantee that a line will start 6,” said Carter. 

“I guess I really hadn’t thought that far to be honest. Too caught up in the alien thing,” said Hayden “Why don’t we plan on going together?” 

“I think that would great, but Y/N do you need to go to a special registration center? As an American,” asked Carter.

“Let me check online,” you said while pulling up the government website on your phone. “It says it I should be fine if I go to the motor vehicle registration office, the social insurance number office, or the immigration office. I need my passport, social security card, immunization forms, birth certificate, driver's license, and work visa. It also says that I will be in a separate line and that my registration will take up to 1 hour to complete.” 

“Sweet, I know you aren’t a fan of getting up early Hayden but what if we all go to the MVR office tomorrow at like 5:45 AM and just get it done together? We have no idea how long the lines will be or really how long it will take,” asked Carter.

“Fine, but like we need to get brunch afterward or I will riot in the streets. You guys don’t have to work tomorrow right,” asked Hayden. “Tony gave me the next few days off.”

“No, Henry gave us all time off. I’m pretty sure Scott and his wife will go awol. Like you should have seen him this morning. He was on his phone in the walkway for the first hour, late to our meeting. Ally had to message him asking if he was coming. He then walked finally went into his office and got ready. He blamed it on his wife being paranoid,” you said. 

“Yeah but that is such a Scott thing to do, I am surprised Talia hasn’t evaluated him yet that man is a walking HR nightmare,” said Carter.

“That isn’t even the worst of it. Immediately after the announcement he kind flipped out. Talking about how the First Order will brainwash us and how we shouldn’t stand for it. Like I’m pretty sure he was going to blow a gasket. Daniel told him off and then he went to talk to Henry but not until saying that this may be the last time we will probably see our families, then Henry gave us the week off basically,” you ranted. “I honestly hate the man he’s late to everything, even deadlines, he also can’t organize his office even if his life depended on it. Plus he’s always on his phone with his wife. Just all around unprofessional.” 

“Damn go off, I would hate to hear what you would have go say about me if I worked with you,” stated Hayden.

“Well, I’m glad we are just friends and not coworkers. Brunch sounds like a good idea to me, especially if we can start day drinking because guaranteed my registration is going to be more stressful than both of yours and I’ll probably need something to take the edge off. And if Scott is right about this being the last bits of freedom before the First Order starts brainwashing us or ‘probing’ us then I’d like it to be fun,” you ranted. 

“Probing, damn I wish I thought of that earlier. You know we should start watching some really cheesy Sci-FI movies before the ‘Supreme Leader’ announcement,” suggested Hayden.

Both you and Carter agreed and you set up your phone to keep steaming CBC News and you set up “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” on your laptop.

After your third movie, you all just decide to pull up the news to avoid missing the announcement. The seemingly perfect white brunette anchorman and similarly perfect blonde anchorwoman were explaining once again where to register while also talking about the average wait time to register. You always found their perfect hair, teeth, and skin; they were just too perfect. 

Live from Washington D.C. 

The camera focused in on the Supreme Leader, “People of Earth, the First Order has so far been impressed by the cooperation we have received from you. As it was mentioned before, if you remain calm and follow all orders directed towards you, you will be able to live a long and prosperous life here. 

Your respective nation’s leader should have informed you of more updates such as where to receive registration and changes to your planet's economy. The First Order and my self Supreme Leader Ren have a few more directives for you. 

First as mentioned to you many times today, everyone on your planet must register with the First Order as citizens. Anyone refusing to do so will be dealt with justly. Second, all citizens upon registration will receive an education on the First Orders and the beliefs of the new empire. Any citizen who has an issue with this education should direct their comments and concerns to any Stormtrooper or First Order officer at their local registration station. 

Finally, anyone found in favor of the New Republic or the Resistance will be dealt with immediately. The First Order would like to make this transition for Earth as smooth and as peaceful as possible. Any found being a traitor to the First Order may find themselves at a public execution!

My Allegiant General Hux has a few words for you.” He stepped to the side to reveal the ginger human-looking man. 

“Today is the is the beginning of the new empire! And the end of a regime that acquiesces to disorder! At this very moment, in a system far from here, the New Republic lies to the galaxy, while secretly supporting the treachery of the loathsome Resistance,” The red hair man almost seemed to be foaming at the mouth while he was giving his speech. “Our alliance is a fierce machine that we will build, upon which we will stand, will bring an end to the Senate, and to their cherished fleet! ALL REMAINING SYSTEMS WILL REMEMBER THIS, AS THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW EMPIRE!!!” Cannon fire was heard in the distance and the camera came to a wide shot of the podium’s stage. 

On the stage, you could see the U.S. President, Supreme Leader Ren, Allegiant General Hux, and the silver armored soldier. Behind the stage, you could see the white house lawn filled with the white armored soldiers standing at attention. In the distance you could see there was now a banner over the white house, it was large and read with a hexagon with a star-like black symbol. You assumed this to be the flag of the First Order. 

The camera cuts back to the news anchors who were now conspicuously wearing pins with the same symbol that was on the banner. “I like the sound of that, don’t you Karen,” asked the male news anchor.

“I sure do Jim. A new galactic economy and protection from a powerful new ally to protect us from the treacherous Resistance. I don’t think we could have asked for a better ‘alien’ invasion, do you, Jim,” responded Karen.

“Now it's almost as if fate was on our side, or should I say the Force. For everybody, at home, both Karen and I have been registered and have started our First Order education. That’s where we got these cool new pins that you will be required to wear once you’ve been registered unless directed to do otherwise,” stated Jim. 

“Yes, it is important that all citizens register as soon as possible, and all citizens are asked to cooperate with the First Order. You all heard our new Supreme Leader Ren, they would like us to be peaceful and anyone found in contempt of the First Order may be subject to public execution,” stated Karen. “And I’m sure all of you remember 8th-grade world history when we learned about what happened to Marie Antoinette, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She and Jim chuckled at her off-color joke. 

“I’m sure no one wants that so if we all stay calm no one should lose their head. There will be nightly updates every night at 7 PM Eastern Standard Time from the First Order. We have been informed that it will be various officers as our new Supreme Leader is very busy,” stated Jim.

“I’m sure he is, and what a wonderful Supreme Leader we have. Dedicated to our safety and the safety of the galaxy. I can’t wait to learn more about him from my First Order education. Now stay tuned to the weather,” said Karen. 

You muted your laptop once again. You, Carter and Hayden all sat in shock after what you just watched. 

Carter was the first to speak, “well at least be getting the registration and education over an done with as soon as possible. That General Hux guy seemed pretty intense.”

“Your boss might be right Y/N we may just all be brainwashed soon. Why do I have a feeling like the First Order may be something out of a George Orwell's novel,” said Hayden.

“Just promise us you won’t do anything stupid Hayden, we will all have enough to worry about. Tomorrow at the registration office you might want to keep your conspiracy theories to yourself. I don’t know how much the First Order will like them,” you responded.

Carter seemed to be in agreement with you, “Why don’t we all just call it a night? We can meet in the parking lot of the MVR office at 5:45 AM and I’ll bring coffee for all of us.”

You and Hayden nodded in agreement. Both of them packed up their things and left. You cleaned up the kitchen and plates. Shut your laptop before preparing for bed.

You grabbed your pajamas and went into the bathroom and took a shower hoping it would relax you. Getting you changed into your clothes, brushed your hair and teeth. 

You shut off the lights to your apartment and walked over to your bed. You plugged in your phone and set an alarm before crawling into bed and drifting off into fitful sleep.

[pokemonswshbutionlyplayedsword]

How about an AU where all the gym leaders +Hop, Marnie, Rose and Oleana 's personalities are completely reversed, like for example Milo turns into a savage and Bea turns into a human slaking.

That’s interesting. The Gym Challenge would probably be kind of unpleasant since the gym leaders would go from being kind of encouraging to rude and dismissive. This turned into a backwards bizarre world where everyone’s angry and evil. Also, I added Bede, even though you didn’t ask. I made myself sad with the misery that’s around this world.

Milo would be pretty lazy and not care about his farm at all. He’d be mean and selfish as well. Probably a healthy dose of hatred for pokemon as well. There’s a chance he’s only a gym leader for money or fame. He’s not humble at all, either.

Nessa’s confidence vanishes completely. She often wears clothes too large for her to cover her body up. She’s quiet and softspoken, and she’ll avoid people as much as possible. She’s probably only a gym leader because she has to be. She doesn’t like attention at all.

Kabu is ignorant and irresponsible. He’s reckless and careless. He disregards the challengers, and rarely takes them seriously. He doesn’t take his gym very seriously, and whatever happens, happens. He doesn’t care about the fate of his gym, and literally anyone who asks can be a gym trainer. He’s got no standards.

Bea is lazy and doesn’t care about her training. She became a gym leader because she was a prodigy from the start, and now she just thinks she’s the greatest. She disregards all of her responsibilities, and mostly just sits around. She watches tv and eats snacks all day, and she doesn’t care at all to meet new people. She’ll tell her fans to leave her alone pretty often.

Allister is a brat, plain and simple. He’ll say what he wants, when he wants, and he gets everything he wants no matter what. As soon as he hears the word “no” he throws a tantrum, because he’s a gym leader, so he should get everything. He disregards everyone who wants to meet them, and his advice to everyone is “don’t try, I’m a prodigy, and you can’t keep up with me.”

Opal doesn’t care about her gym. She handed it off years ago to some kid that showed “promise.” She doesn’t care about anything anymore. She stays in her house or goes to plays. She’s just a wicked old lady who uses her age to act entitled. She’s also ignorant about most things and whenever she talks the majority of it is just shit she made up to sound smart.

Gordie has no care at all about how people see him, and he doesn’t care about his fans either. He avoids them at any cost because his time and training are more important. He wants to be better than his mother, and he might have chosen to be a rock type trainer because he hates Melony. Their fight is over who gets to have control over the gym.

Melony is not a good mother. She is self absorbed and does things selfishly. She likes the fame and fortune of being a gym leader. She’s mad at Gordie, borderline hates him for betraying her and being a rock type trainer. And now he’s trying to steal the gym from her? The way she sees it, Gordie’s not her son anymore.

Piers is two sided, normally, so he’s be very flat and lack any sort of personality if it was swapped. He pretends to have quirks and personalities so people will like him and give him what he wants, but at home, he lacks any sort of interests. He’s pretty bland, and he’s exactly what he looks like, prickly and aggressive. He doesn’t get close to anyone, not even Marnie. He keeps to himself and doesn’t care about anyone else. His hobbies are absolutely zero, he’s just kind of existing. No feelings, heart empty. He also lacks any standards and will do whatever it takes to win a pokemon battle, including dynamax if he has the chance. Spikemuth fell to pieces long before Piers was gym leader, so he gave up on saving it. He’s only a gym leader because it’s he best source of income in the dump that Spikemuth became. It’s pretty much a landfill that poor people live in.

Raihan is shy and hides away from people. He runs away from fans when they recognize him, and he hardly touches social media because he’s scared. He doesn’t do any reading in his isolation, either, he just watches the pokemon version of youtube all day and trains somewhere where people can’t bother him. He hates being around the other gym leaders because he doesn’t care for them at all. He just wants his paycheck and his time alone at home.

Leon is boastful and has a serious superiority complex. He thinks he’s above the rest of Galar, including what in canon he would consider friends and family. He doesn’t associate with any “peasants” and he’s not afraid to tell off Rose or any associates. He thinks he’s right all the time and the world owes him their lives since he’s so skilled. He doesn’t bother with Hop, either, since he’s insulted that Hop thinks he can beat him.

Hop is angry and cold to everyone. It probably has something to do with his brother’s behavior, but he leaves no room for fun and games and works himself half to death. His only goal, really, is to rise to the top and crush everyone beneath him. Nobody is worth his time, and he has no interest in his growing fan base. He’ll get angry and ruse with anyone that interrupts him while he’s working, which he always is.

Marnie in canon hides a kind and loving personality behind a cold and serious exterior. So she’s now a cruel and vicious girl who hides her darker side behind a sweet facade. She can be manipulative and cunning, and will do anything to get what she wants. She learned it from watching Piers, from afar, since they’re not close at all. She wants to be powerful so she can take over Spikemuth Gym. She wants to snatch it from Piers and show him up so everyone can see how great she is. Of course, being the next champion would be even better. She wants to leave her shithole of a home in Spikemuth far behind if she can.

Bede is one of the only kind people in this backwards world. He’s just trying to be a good trainer, and thinks that his best chance is to be good and kind. He’s kind, but he’s not stupid, and no one can make him do anything he doesn’t want to. He’s got strong morals and will stick to them no matter what. He never gets to take over Ballonlea Gym because Opal handed it off a long time ago, so he’s trying to just become a gym leader by being strong and hard working.

Rose is the classic fat cat corporate. It’s all about money for him. He’ll do whatever he can to spend as little money as possible and gain as much as possible. He doesn’t care about quality or the people. He uses Leon for his own selfish gain, and Leon goes with it because he also benefits. Rose doesn’t care about Galar, he’s ruined the environment and the economy. Spikemuth is in even worse condition than in canon because it doesn’t profit. It’s basically a bunch of shacks in a pile of rubble.

Oleana worries about what Rose is doing. She can see people struggling. She sees the misery around Galar because all the gym leaders, the champion, and the chairman are awful. Everyone’s unhappy and that makes her sad. She’s kind to as many people as she can be, but people usually use it to walk all over her and exploit her kindness. She just wants to fix the damage that Rose and his lackeys have caused. And yes, the gym leaders and Leon are his lackeys. They’ll do whatever he says to get themselves ahead.

[artificialqueens]

Different People (Different Arguments), 3/14 (Branjie/Jankie) - Ortega

a/n: ayo!! so sorry for the update gap fam, but chapter 3 is here! soooo hope u all enjoy. p.s. i promise I love Nicky, Gigi and Crystal…but every good story has a bad guy right???

fic summary: Brooke Lynn is a political advisor for a government department where she has to contend with an incompetent Minister, maintaining her stone-cold bitch image, working alongside a press team of slackers, and the Prime Minister’s ever-so-slightly terrifying enforcer breathing down her neck 24/7. So when a familiar face from her past arrives as her new boss, she’s not exactly thrilled to add another problem to her ever-growing pile.

And then she admits she’s got a crush on her coworker.

Last chapter: Jackie became a breakout political star after she spoke out against the homophobia and misogyny in the media, and Brooke finally acknowledged that her feelings for Vanessa maybe weren’t as platonic as she’d thought.

In this chapter: When Shadow Minister Nicky Doll and her advisors arrive at DoSac for an informal, pre-election briefing, Jan tries to cope with the stress of seeing her old colleagues again. There’s more at stake, though, when Jackie reveals a secret that cannot get out.

***

Casting her eyes over the meeting room, Brooke attempted to focus on what Jackie was actually saying. She was trying her hardest, she really was, but it was just that Vanessa was wearing the red jumper today, the really soft one that made her look more cuddly and adorable than normal.  

Brooke had a crush on Vanessa. She’d accepted that now. The way to deal with it was just to never act upon it, talk about it, or to admit it to anyone outside of her own head. She’d spent so long cultivating the perfect stone-cold, heartless bitch image and she wasn’t exactly going to do anything to taint that now. The most important thing she had to remember was that she didn’t need anyone- she had no desire to be in a relationship, to be tied down and have to answer to someone else all the time. She had a perfectly good bullet to get her off and if she felt like it she could always go and pick up someone random from a bar. There was always that irritating aspect when the afterglow had faded, though, if whoever she’d used for the night wanted to stay over, or heaven forbid see her again. Things were just better as they were, Brooke concluded. She couldn’t get attached, or hurt, or fall in love this way. If there was one thing she wasn’t, it was vulnerable. Getting into a relationship with someone put you in the weakest position you could possibly get.

She would know, after all.

Still, she was allowed to dream about it; an ideal world in which love worked out the way it did in books and movies, one huge cliché where Brooke and Vanessa were happy together and lived in perfect domesticity, had the best sex of their lives and went on adorable dates. It was simplistic and shallow and completely unrealistic, but perhaps that was all it was meant to be.  

Gazing at Vanessa again, she was surprised to see her eyes already on her. She was even more surprised when she looked around the room and saw that everyone else was staring at her as well.

“Brooke Lynn?” Jackie asked, staring at her expectantly. She stood in front of a huge whiteboard with marker pen scribbled all over it- generic buzzwords such as “connectivity”, “inclusivity” and “diversity” sprang out to her, but nothing really indicated what Jackie could have previously been talking about.

“Um. The fiscal year?” Brooke guessed blankly. Jan laughed from across the table, throwing her head back and letting her blonde hair cascade down the back of the chair. Jackie didn’t find it as funny.

“For God’s sake, Brooke, this policy is only going to work if everyone pays attention and has some form of input other than just staring at me with glassy eyes like they’ve been goddamn taxidermied!” she sighed, sitting her pen down on the table and sliding into an empty chair. Brooke felt a pang of guilt- Jackie had been doing well in the two weeks that had followed her Von’Du interview and had received heaps of public support and attention. The perfect time, Bianca had insisted, to get some new ideas out there and into parliament.

“Sorry. Remind me of the premise?”

Irritated, Jackie rolled her eyes before Vanessa cut in with a sweet smile. “Issa scheme to get the UK to house more refugees and get ‘em into work therefore boosting the economy, diversifyin’ the nation and basically makin’ us look like good guys to the rest of Europe.”

Brooke shot her a grateful smile across the table, trying her best not to blush.

“Thank God someone’s been listening,” Jackie smirked. “We’re basically just trying to come up with a name for it. Or a tagline or something.”

Brooke pressed her pen to her lips, thinking for a second. Nina suddenly piped up from beside her.

“What about…Don’t be bigoted. Be uninhibited,” she said, her suggestion met with utter silence from the rest of the group.

“Well that was nice, Nina, but how about something a bit less…” Jackie thought for a second, trying to find the correct word.

“Shit?” Brooke shrugged, Jan once again letting out a peal of laughter. Vanessa was clearly trying to conceal her giggles from the other side of the huge table, while both Nina and Jackie looked unimpressed.

“Do you have any better suggestions?”

“No, and I’m not going to pretend like I do! I’m not going to just yell out any old crap like I’ve got shit idea Tourette’s,” Brooke shrugged, Jan now bent over in her chair from laughter and Vanessa now audibly giggling. Brooke couldn’t tell, but she could have sworn Jackie let out the tiniest snort of a laugh before regaining composure.

“Ladies, please, this is important! This is a good damn idea, if I’m allowed to blow my own trumpet, and we’ve got to get it out there sooner rather than later,” she insisted. A loud, harsh vibration from Nina’s phone startled them all.

“Bianca’s here,” she announced, trying to keep her tone bright. Before the girls even had time to react to the news, Bianca had appeared in the room in a smart, tailored black and white suit.

“Good morning to you all, shit Spice Girls impersonation act,” she smiled cheerfully.

“Mornin’, Bianca,” Vanessa greeted her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jackie quipped dryly, lounging back in her seat.

“Two things from me,” Bianca began, ignoring the Minister’s sarcasm. “The shadow minister’s visit, today at 11. They’re going to be talking to Nina and the rest of those brain-dead, civil-service puppets out there about what’s going to happen if they take office. Nina, your job is to basically communicate to them that they’ll be taking it out of my cold, dead hands.”

“Fuck, that’s today?!” Vanessa exclaimed somewhat involuntarily, earning her a steely glare from Bianca which in turn made Vanessa look as if she was seconds away from death. Reaching into her pocket and retrieving her phone, Brooke fired off a quick text to Vanessa under the table.

B: It’s okay. Snakes only eat once every few weeks x

As Bianca briefed Nina, Brooke watched as Vanessa looked down into her lap and smiled, a light blush colouring her cheeks very slightly, although that could have just been the light of the room. Satisfied that she’d made Vanessa feel better, she tuned back in to what Bianca was saying.

“…you tell them nothing. Except where the toilets are, but you lie about that.”

“So who’s actually accompanying Nicky today? I’ve heard nothing and I want to make sure I’m relatively prepared for whoever enters my department,” Jackie folded her arms across her chest, already defensive.

“You already know about Nicky. Privately educated daddy’s girl and massively out of touch with the electorate. Probably a lizard wearing a human skin suit, I’ve never particularly wanted to get close enough to her to check if that theory’s true,” Bianca shrugged. “The other two coming with her are going to be her advisors, Gigi and Crystal.”

“Oh no,” Jan suddenly exclaimed from her chair. Her face had gone incredibly ashen, her eyes wide and fearful. Suddenly Brooke was acutely aware that she no longer had only Vanessa to worry about. If Jan’s old colleagues and ex-friends bumped into her it wouldn’t be particularly pleasant, and Jan would no doubt be incredibly shaken. Crossing the floor was like a betrayal, pledging loyalty to one party after being aligned with another was treacherous, and so it was likely that Gigi, Crystal and Nicky still wanted Jan’s head on a stick.

“Oh yes. Gigi Goode, bit of a newborn as far as politics is concerned but she’s got impressive credentials. Graduated from Oxford University with a first class degree and a PhD in Politics and Business. Won the World Universities Debating Championships five consecutive times. She’s confident, clever, and has zero scruples. Knows every loophole in the world of politics,” Bianca reeled off. Jackie raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed.

“She sounds interesting.”

“Don’t even make contact with her, she’ll probably have you telling her the fucking nuke codes and all the department’s discrepancies within the first 30 seconds of meeting her.  Crystal Harness is a different story,” Bianca frowned. “Not too good when it comes to actual political knowledge. Nina, you and her would get along. She’s a baby too, really, not been in the game long. Graduated from Oxford Brookes. Second class degree in Psychology and Sociology. Don’t think for a second that this is a reason to underestimate her. She is cunning and has intellect and knows everything about everyone, don’t let her see you break a sweat.”

Jackie looked momentarily terrified. “I didn’t realise Nicky had some kind of metahuman task force working for her.”

“They’re not that bad,” Brooke sighed, tipping her head back in her chair. “If you talk to Nicky entirely in cockney rhyming slang, she’ll just combust. Gigi is fine if you give her a fake smile or two. Crystal is basically simple. You’ve got nothing to worry about, Jackie.”

Feeling the mood in the room change, Brooke turned around in her wheely chair and was met with Bianca’s icy stare.

“What part of ‘don’t underestimate these people’ do you not understand? What, you think they’re here for a jolly little chat with Nina about worker’s rights and office hours? They’re here to get intel, and I want you all to be more airtight than some middle-aged white woman’s Tupperware. And no, that’s not a euphemism.”

Brooke watched as Vanessa wrinkled up her nose in distaste. She had such a cute little nose, and Brooke found herself imagining how perfect it would be to just kiss it gently before they both drifted off to sleep together in a little house that they shared. Frowning involuntarily, Brooke chased those particular thoughts out of her head. They were way too intense, too weird and commitment-y for her friend she had a stupid crush on. Remembering what Bianca had said earlier, she turned and faced her.

“What was the other thing? You said you had two things to tell us.”

“I’m getting there! Right, Jackie, I’ve got you a good photo op this evening. Some new charging points for electric car owners, it’s going to be the biggest one in the UK and a big step for climate change, yadda yadda yadda. We’re going to get you driving in a fucking Prius or something, charging it up and then driving out again. Pretty simple, but effective- what? What is it?”

Every head in the room turned to face Jackie, who looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles white. She’d turned pale, her face ashen, and she seemed worried.

“Driving? No, I can’t drive, there’s no way,” she babbled, her usually calm and composed exterior completely destroyed.

“Jackie?” Jan prompted quietly, clearly concerned. Brooke shared a brief look of confusion with Vanessa. It was clear nobody had the faintest idea what was going on.

“I mean, you can drive. We have your drivers’ license, you sent in a photocopy as proof of identification when you received Darienne’s job. I don’t really see the issue here?” Bianca curled her top lip, completely unfazed by Jackie’s behaviour.

“Bianca, you don’t understand…I’ve not driven in ages, I…do you not-”

“Do I not what?” Bianca cut in, her irritation mounting by the second. “Look, I don’t really have time to stand here and argue the toss. This is part of your job. You’re doing the goddamn photo op. Christ, this was the girl who two weeks ago was desperate to get on prime time television. Now you’re shitting yourself at the thought of driving a bloody battery operated car. Get it done. 6 o’clock tonight. See you all later.”

As Bianca click-clacked out of the department, the mood in the room was still very tense. Almost frozen, Brooke thought, the tiny hairs on her arms standing up from goosebumps. Jan was the first to speak.

“Jackie, are you okay?” she almost whispered, her voice both deafening and quiet in the silent room. There were a few seconds (minutes?) where there was no response at all, in fact Brooke was almost convinced that nobody even breathed. Finally, Jackie spoke.

“Yep. All good. So, um, if you ladies can continue thinking up some form of line or title we can use or something while you’re finishing off that immigration data, and Nina if you can just forward me the protocol for Nicky’s visit again so I can read over it, then that would be great,” she said, her body almost frozen in place and her face wearing a fake smile.

Deciding not to push it any further, Brooke simply nodded and walked back to her desk. It wasn’t long before Vanessa was following behind, rolling her own wheely chair along to sit beside her.

“What d’you think all that was about?” she whispered, leaning her elbows on Brooke’s desk expectantly. Brooke couldn’t help but stifle a laugh- Vanessa could be such a gossip and it was one of the things that was oddly endearing about her. Trying not to be too taken in by her perfume and parted lips, Brooke instead threw up her defences again and rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, ‘Ness. To be honest, it’s not my place to ask. It’s not yours either,” she chastised softly, hitting Vanessa gently on the nose with her pen. Wrinkling her nose and pulling away, Vanessa shrugged.

“You’re right, I know. Still, she was kinda rattled. Hope she’s okay,” Vanessa frowned, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“She’ll be fine. Honestly. Just go and do your damn job.”

“Hmm. Winding you up’s more fun, baby, but I’ll do what I’m told,” Vanessa winked at her, shooting back off to her desk in her chair.

Feeling her heart speed up, Brooke fleetingly wondered if maybe the feelings she had for Vanessa weren’t entirely one-sided. That was flirting, right? Brooke wasn’t reading too much into it? Or maybe she was. Reality brought her back down to earth with a bump, telling her what a ridiculous thought that was. Vanessa saw Brooke as a friend and a co-worker, and that was where her feelings ended. Brooke couldn’t let herself get carried away or distracted with the idea that Vanessa would ever treat her as anything more than what they already were.

Letting out a huge exhale of breath, Brooke opened up the immigration spreadsheet and was about to start working when there was a thud of two elbows on the empty space to her left. Turning slowly in an attempt to conceal her flinching, she was met with Yvie; head in her hands, black dreads cascading over her shoulders and a huge, smug grin on her face.

“Don’t even say a word,” Brooke warned her, clearly too late as Yvie began sniggering a laugh behind her hands.

“I wasn’t actually here to gloat, but now you mention it…” Yvie joked, lolling lazily against Brooke’s desk. “So you’ve not admitted anything to anyone else. In fact, you’re probably maintaining the fact that there’s nothing to admit. But you’ve definitely admitted something to yourself, because I think your face is so red that you could go stand at a street corner and act as a traffic light.”

“If you keep talking, I’m going to staple your mouth shut,” Brooke glared, grabbing the stapler on her desk for emphasis. It didn’t seem to intimidate Yvie at all, who was still grinning maniacally and completely unfazed.

“Hey, like I said! Not here to gloat at all. I’m actually not here to talk about your deep feelings for your coworker in any way. Just thought you might like to know that Akeria texted me this a couple minutes ago.”

With that, Yvie produced her phone and held it out to Brooke so that she could read the screen.

A: ahahaha yeah. Big Silk with the fuckin bodyshots man!! Don’t actually know how she made it in today. Also, 100% confirmed Nicky’s looking for stuff to take Jackie down with bc she’s still pissed about that dig in the Von’Du interview. watch ur back xo

Attempting to ignore whatever conversation that had been going on before, Brooke focussed on the important information. She wished she could say she was surprised by the shadow minister’s plan but in all honesty, she’d highly expected it. Sighing, Brooke handed Yvie her phone back.

“I mean, I’m not too worried. What can she possibly dig up? Jackie will’ve been vetted by Bianca already,” she shrugged, clicking on a single cell of the spreadsheet half-heartedly.

“She got pizza delivered to the office last week?”

“That’s not even- Yvie. Come on,” Brooke raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “The papers would be hard pressed to conjure up a paragraph on that. Jackie will be fine.”

Appearing to be satisfied, Yvie pushed herself off the desk and made to return to her seat, but not before turning back to Brooke with the same smug look on her face as before.

“You know, I don’t think anyone in the office could’ve missed that wink Vanjie gave you just there. Whatever you’re feeling, I don’t think it’s as one-sided as you think,” she smirked, making sure to keep her voice low. Unsure of what to reply, Brooke simply narrowed her eyes, picked up her stapler and clicked it twice in warning. Chuckling, Yvie sauntered back to her desk.

Trying not to even entertain the thought that Vanessa could like her back, Brooke continued with her work. All of the numbers suddenly seemed scrambled and jumbled up, making no sense to her whatsoever. Feeling as if she was about to scream with frustration she made to ask Jan for advice until she noticed her desk was empty. Come to think of it, Jan hadn’t actually left the meeting room with her and Vanessa. Bullshit if she was getting away with doing nothing while Brooke worked on this entire set of figures by herself. Getting up and smoothing her skirt down she made her way to the meeting room only to find it empty. Puzzled, she began to walk slightly aimlessly down the corridor, her curiosity piqued at the disappearance of both Jan and Jackie. It was unlike Jan to just wander off without telling either Brooke or Vanessa where she was going.

Reaching the photocopier and a dead end with no Jan in sight, Brooke was about to give up and ask Nina for help instead when she heard two sets of muffled voices coming from the stationery cupboard.  

“I’m just panicking, I know. But I feel like I have good reason to. I mean, it’s going to be absolute carnage if this gets out.”

“It won’t, don’t worry. I still can’t believe Bianca missed that when she vetted you. But please don’t panic, it’ll all be fine! I’ll speak to Nina and I’ll get her to quietly cancel it.”

Jackie and Jan. What the hell were they in the stationery cupboard for, and most importantly, what were they talking about? Whatever it was, it sounded serious. If it was serious business, Brooke deserved to know. Making to burst open the door in a show of outrage, she stopped herself when Jackie’s voice spoke again.

“I just feel like such a failure. I should’ve known it would get out, I should’ve said something-”

“Hey! You are not a failure,” Jan’s voice cut in urgently. There was an odd sort of pause in which Brooke wasn’t quite sure what was happening. “You’re a good person, Jackie, and a kick-ass politician. You’re the best thing to happen to this department since I arrived, even if I do say so myself.”

Soft laughter, then Jan’s voice again. “You’re incredible. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Another pause. Brooke couldn’t quite bring herself to move, somehow feeling as if she shouldn’t be hearing this at all. Composing herself, she rested her hand on the door handle.

“Jan I…this might seem inappropriate, but-”

“Okay, what the hell is going on in here?” Brooke demanded as she flung open the door and revealed herself. Both girls seemed to jump back a bit, Jackie looking to the floor awkwardly and rubbing the back of her neck, Jan’s mouth forming a perfect circle as her jaw dropped in shock. They had both gone bright red, which Brooke thought was odd for two colleagues having a professional conversation.

“Jesus, Brooke, you scared the crap out of me,” Jackie breathed out raggedly, her voice spooked but holding an underlying note of irritation.  

“I don’t care, you haven’t answered my question. What were you talking about? What’s going to be carnage?” Brooke replied, keeping her glare cold. Jackie kept her eyes trained on the floor, not seeming to want to look up anytime soon. Jan still hadn’t spoken.

“Close the door,” Jackie said finally, sounding a little shaken. Feeling the wind slightly knocked out of her sails, Brooke did as she was told and watched as Jackie steadied herself on the shelf and sat on an unopened box.

“Um. Do you remember I kind of went off grid after uni? A lot of people were asking after me and couldn’t really find me.”

With a pang of guilt, Brooke’s first reaction was that she hadn’t really cared. She’d been glad to see the back of Jackie at the time, if she was honest. Times had changed, though, so Brooke simply nodded instead. Jackie wrung her hands together, her face completely racked with nerves.

“I wasn’t in a good place. My mental health spiralled out of control pretty dramatically once I graduated, I struggled to find a job for a while and when I did, I got way too into it. I would work myself into a frenzy, I’d do consecutive days on two hours of sleep…at one point I was averaging a panic attack per day. I didn’t really, um. I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about things. I tried going to therapy but it just didn’t help. I don’t know…it felt like I was making progress just being able to know that I was visiting someone, I guess, but I wasn’t really. Anyway, you don’t need to know my sob story,” Jackie frowned, shaking her head repeatedly. “To cut a long story short, I was driving into work one day, trying to do twenty things at once as usual. It was idiotic, but I was on the motorway and a text came through from my boss and wanting to seem like I was organised and in control, I tried to type and drive at the same time…the motorway was quiet, there was nobody around me…fuck, sorry-”

As Jackie’s voice broke slightly, Jan crossed over to where she sat and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I crashed into the barricade in the central reservation doing fifty miles an hour. God knows how I’m still alive. The police obviously came along with the ambulance and the fire brigade and of course they wanted to know how it was that I managed to crash on a clear stretch of road with no other drivers around me. I’ve never been able to lie to save myself, so I just told them. I’d only passed my test the year before that, so they took my license away. That’s why I can’t do the PR thing. It’s illegal for me to drive. I got a fake license purely so I could take this job.”

Leaning against the door, Brooke felt she wanted to sit down too. This was so much to deal with. She couldn’t style herself out as not caring about this, because she actually felt sick to her stomach with guilt. She couldn’t believe Jackie had coped- or not coped- completely on her own through all this horrible mess. Even though there was no way she could have known, Brooke just wished she could’ve done something differently. She desperately hoped Jackie was better now.

“Jackie, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. This isn’t about me being…enormously god damn mental in the head, or whatever,” she snorted a derisive laugh. “I’m more worried about how we’re going to placate Bianca. Jan said she’d talk to Nina and get her to cancel the shoot but Bianca’s going to ask questions.”

“Well it’s not your fault she didn’t vet you properly,” Brooke shrugged, how Bianca would feel the absolute last thing on her mind right now. “So she can just deal with it. How Bianca feels doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re okay.”

Jackie looked up at her, her face grateful but slightly taken aback at this raw show of compassion. Truthfully, Brooke was also slightly shocked at how kind she was being towards her. She was grateful for the shout that came from the hall suddenly.

“Brooke? Guys? You in there?” Vanessa asked, as she opened the door and stepped inside the stationery cupboard that was ever-decreasing in space. Confused by the presence of her boss and the two other advisors, her perfect eyebrows became furrowed together. “There some meeting I didn’t know about?”

“Yeah, in the stationery cupboard. It was really important, girl, did you not get the memo?” Jan laughed affectionately. Laughing briefly at her own ridiculous assumption, Vanessa then tentatively looked at everyone else again.

“So…why we all here?”

Brooke briefly looked at Jackie, then sighed. “Jackie can’t do the PR stunt because legally, she’s not allowed to drive. She got done for texting while driving years ago and her license got revoked.”

Vanessa’s mouth dropped open a little as if she was about to ask how, then shut again as she clearly decided against it. “Does Bianca know?”

Giving her an affectionate smile, Brooke raised her eyebrows at her. “V. Come on. Use your brain.”

“Fuck, ‘course not. I’m so not with it today. So what’s happenin’?”

“Jan’s telling Nina to cancel it and when Bianca finds out, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. What’s important here is Jackie,” Brooke said decisively. Shocked again at the vulnerability she was showing, she smoothed down her black pencil skirt and sniffed once, trying to ignore just how close Vanessa was in the tiny space. “So that’s settled. Can we all get out of this cupboard and do some damn work? I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Without speaking, the four girls filed out of the cupboard as if the conversation had never happened. Brooke’s head was still slightly spinning as she slumped back in her chair, the excel spreadsheet now more confusing than ever. She was still attempting to take in everything that Jackie had just told her. It was so much to process, and Brooke couldn’t shake the guilty feeling that was settling in the pit of her stomach, the feeling that maybe there was something she could have done to help all those years ago. Sighing, she cast her eyes to Jackie’s glass-fronted office where the Minister was now typing into her phone, her face failing to betray anything about the heartfelt conversation that had just taken place. Why the hell did Jackie have to confide in her like that? Life would be so much less stressful if everybody just kept their guard up like Brooke did.

Still, she mused, everyone would probably be a whole lot more lonely.    

Suddenly, Brooke’s phone screen lit up with three messages at once- two from Jan, one from Vanessa.

J: I would love to, that sounds amazing (: we could go for sushi?? Wardour Street has some really nice places! Xxx

J: whoops wasn’t meant for you lol sorry

Brooke would probably have been about ten times more intrigued and curious about Jan’s text if she didn’t have a text from Vanessa awaiting her.  

V: I don’t care what kind of front you try to put up, you’re kind and caring and a total sweetheart x

Not even daring to look up and risk meeting Vanessa’s eyes, Brooke reached for a piece of paper on her desk and began to fan the blush that had just flooded her cheeks. Trying her best not to think about what Yvie had said earlier, she began to compose a reply.

B: You’re a cutie. Don’t tell anyone I was nice to you though, being a bitch is kind of my brand x

Risking a peek up over her monitor, Brooke watched as Vanessa picked up her phone and giggled, covering her mouth with one perfectly manicured hand.

God, it was going to be a long day.

***

They had arrived.

Brooke felt like a bird of prey as she stood beside Jan and watched from above as Nicky and her two advisors were greeted by Nina in the lobby. Even from six floors up Brooke could tell that Nina was hating the fact that she had to be at the very least civil to the three opposition members. Narrowing her eyes, Brooke watched closer.

Nicky was using the tactic she employed every time she had a television interview; gushing about how happy she was to be here, playing the humble, meek elected representative of the people. She was wearing an immaculate navy pencil dress with what appeared to be a Tiffany heart around her neck, and her sleek blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a bun. Following dutifully behind her were two others. The first girl Brooke heard before she saw- a cry of excitement at being in the building had been the very thing that proclaimed the arrival of the opposition. She was still making an obscene amount of excitable noise which travelled up the floors of the lobby as if it was riding the elevator. Squawker- or Crystal, Brooke supposed she should call her- was equally well turned out. She gave off a clear professional vibe in her button-down shirt, blue skirt and little heeled boots, and her curly red hair was swept over one shoulder.

“Gigi needs her roots done. See?” Brooke whispered to Jan, not taking her eyes off the three opposition members. Receiving no response, Brooke turned to look at her friend. Jan’s shoulders were tensed up as she trained her eyes on the member of the opposition in question. Her style was immaculate and she wore a pressed white shirt with huge sleeves and a pair of smart tailored black trousers with her high heels. Her long, blonde hair had been immaculately styled and blow-dried, and Brooke found herself wondering how or if she had the time to do that every day. Looking to Jan again she found her brow furrowed, biting at her long, painted nails.  

“Jan, come on. Don’t ruin your nails, you’re better than that,” Brooke scolded, grabbing gently at Jan’s wrist and pulling it away from her face. Jan finally turned to meet her eyes before looking quickly back down at the floor again. “Hey. Talk to me.”

Sighing, Jan leant against the balcony, watching as the opposition were led away to the lift. “Sorry. I know I’m not myself today. It’s just this is really, really freaking me out. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen these girls since I crossed the floor, but to have them here where I work? It’s just a lot. It sounds dramatic but like…it kind of feels violating, if that makes any sense?”

Brooke nodded slowly. “I know you’re worried about it. But you’re being really brave about the whole thing. And hey, you kind of have an advantage, I guess! They’re on your territory, they’re not familiar or comfortable with anything here. Mainly because nothing’s engulfed by the flames of hell or costs over £10,000.”

Snorting a brief laugh, Jan’s face grew somewhat blank again. “I mean. Their tanks are on our lawn, though, they know we’re shook.”

Rolling her eyes, Brooke laughed derisively. “Jan. These private school bitches are not going to take power. You live in this country at the moment, do you really think the public are going to vote for people like Nicky?”

“Well, the public are idiots.”

Brooke gave a snort. “Jan, you can’t say the entire nation are idiots.”

“Yes I can, I’ve met them,” Jan deadpanned, signing off with a smile. Brooke relaxed against the balcony, comforted by the fact that Jan clearly felt a little better.

“Listen. One single day. One day of smiling and nodding like a puppet and just taking whatever crap or snide comments or shade they throw at you. You’ve handled so much worse,” Brooke smiled reassuringly, resting both hands on Jan’s shoulders. Comforted, Jan made to turn back to the department when suddenly she whipped her head back round.

“Brooke,” she murmured. “What if they find out about Jackie?”

“What, that she exists? I know it was a crushing disappointment to us all but they’ll get over it some day,” she deadpanned. Jan gave a colossal roll of her eyes.

“No, you bitch! The license thing,” Jan sighed in exasperation, raising her voice just a little.

Brooke paused for a moment. It was weird how protective Jan was of her boss. She was never like that with Darienne at all. Fair enough Jackie was far more competent but still, it wasn’t as if the two shared some deep personal connection or anything. Brooke thought about asking her about it, but instead decided that that probably wasn’t what Jan needed right at this very moment.  

“Who’s going to tell them? Me? You? Vanessa? Jackie herself? We’re the only ones that know. Come on, Jan, think,” Brooke tapped the side of Jan’s head once, punctuating her point. “It’s not going to get out.”

Smiling slightly, Jan seemed to compose herself and took one deep breath. As if something had occurred to her, she let out a laugh.

“God, what’s happening to you, Brooke? First you’re nice to Jackie for once and then you listen to me vent for ages. Your cracks are showing,” Jan smiled. Brooke attempted to style it out by shrugging, secretly a little unnerved that her recent empathy was being noticed.

“Stop psychoanalysing me, psycho, and let’s get back to our desks.”

No sooner had both girls turned the corner towards their office when they came face to face with the three members of the opposition coming out of the lift, Nina leading them. Jan immediately froze in place, seemingly unable to move. Brooke wanted to do something, anything to reassure her but before she could even look at Jan, Gigi’s cold grey eyes met her own.

“Nicky,” she turned to her boss, her cheerful, light voice at odds with the stare she was giving Brooke. “You go on ahead with Nina. Crystal and I are just going to have a little catch-up with a couple of old friends we haven’t seen in a while.”

Brooke wasn’t easily intimidated and she swore that today would be no different. As Gigi and Crystal advanced towards them, she drew her shoulders back and tilted her head, not giving a single thing away on her face. She could feel Jan growing more and more timid beside her. Christ, if these girls were planning on giving her friend a hard time then they’d be leaving the department in an ambulance.

“Brooke Lynn. Jan! So good to see you both,” Gigi began, her smile smug as she rested one nonchalant hand on her hip. “God, how long has it been? When was the last time we saw these two, Crystal?”

“Gee, Gigi, I don’t know! Did they not serve us at McDonalds when we went to get nuggets a couple days ago?” Crystal chimed in, flashing a quick, amused smile at her friend. Brooke muffled a derisive laugh as she shook her head. She couldn’t quite believe the schoolyard bullshit that these adult women were trying to start in her department. Still, if this was the game they were playing, then Brooke would play accordingly.

“Clever, implying that we’re both in minimum wage retail sector jobs! Something which your party loves to shit on very often. I love it,” Brooke smiled sweetly, gently clapping her hands. Gigi gave a fake laugh.

“Ladies, relax! It’s just some classic cross-party fun, no harm meant by it. You know that, right, Jan?” she flashed her a false smile. Brooke watched as Jan, shoulders now so hunched she was practically concave, gave a meek nod in response.

“You know, we really miss you, Jan,” Crystal nodded somberly, her voice high and sweet and almost-but-not-quite masking the fake sincerity behind her words. “Nicky’s always saying how open she’d be to having you back if you’d ever want to cross the floor…again! Gigi and I miss you too. We miss our friend.”

With that, Crystal reached a hand out and touched Jan’s arm gently. Flinching a little, Jan finally met her former colleague’s eyes and gave a weak smile. Brooke felt a flame of anger sting her veins as she watched the whole interaction. It was the same every time Jan ran into these two- they would start with the bitchy high school bullshit and Jan would be unable to ignore it, growing more and more quiet and subdued with every passing comment. Fuelled by her anger and dislike of behaviour of the two girls in front of her, Brooke snorted sardonically.

“Friend? Spare me the bullshit, you’d stab yourself in the back if it meant you got ten more followers on Instagram. Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to get back to work. You know, being in power? But this has been lovely,” Brooke flashed her bright white teeth in a smile, which Gigi returned equally as insincerely. “I haven’t had the conversational equivalent of hepatitis C in a long time.”

“As always, Brooke, you’re a very funny girl. Quite the comedian,” Gigi gave a tight-lipped smile as she stepped to one side and cleared a path down the corridor for the two girls. Hooking her arm through Jan’s, Brooke began to leave and had taken roughly three steps when she yelled her retort over her shoulder.

“I’ve got a lot of jokes, but none as good as your boss!”

Still fuelled from the frustration coursing through her veins, Brooke steered Jan the rest of the way down the hall and into the small kitchen like a demented steam train. It was only after she flicked the switch on the kettle so hard she thought she might have broken it when Jan spoke.

“I know they annoy you, babe, but don’t be too hard on them.”

“Don’t be too…Jan! They were standing there making you feel like a sack of shit, I wasn’t going to sit back and let them rip you to shreds! God, I can’t believe you’re defending them,” Brooke cried, grabbing two mugs and two teabags so hard she felt they might crumble apart in her hands. Silent for only a moment, Jan began playing with the edge of a tea towel, deep in thought.

“They were my friends once though. Who knows, maybe…maybe they were being serious. Maybe they do want to be friends again.”

As the kettle reached boiling point, Brooke took one deep, calming breath and began pouring them cups of tea. Part of her hated the way that she’d been conditioned into going straight to the kettle when something was angering or upsetting either her or her friends, as if a ridiculous hot drink was going to help make things any better. Vodka, now that would go some way to really help the situation. If Brooke and Jan shared a 75cl bottle, they’d be able to get so wasted that those idiots from the opposition wouldn’t bother them anymore. The bottle would also be ideal for smashing over Gigi’s smug face. Too bad it was too early for alcohol, Brooke mused, as she handed the smaller girl a steaming hot mug of tea. As Jan gave a grateful smile and began to sip, Brooke found herself wishing she could knock some sense into her. One of Jan’s biggest strengths was very feasibly also her biggest weakness; her determination to always focus on the good in people, to ignore their flaws and instead choose to look at their positives. It was something that made Jan such a horrendous judge of character. Christ, she’d worked for the opposition for a year, after all.

Casting another glance at her friend and deciding she’d visibly gained back a little of her confidence, Brooke grabbed her own mug off the countertop.

“Right, come on,” she said decisively. “We’re going to go back to our desks and drink these up and get on with our work, because these snakes that have slithered into the department don’t change a single thing about how capable you are as a professional. Okay?”

With a stifled smile Jan led the way back to the office, leaving Brooke wondering if she could still maintain the bitchy façade she always presented to the world if she was getting this good at cheering people up.

***

Sadly that wasn’t the only encounter they had to suffer with the opposition that day. Nicky soon appeared in the department’s offices with Nina, almost as a grand finale to the tour of Dosac she’d been given so far. She watched with narrowed eyes as Nicky made her way from desk to desk of the comms team, shaking hands and smiling in a sickeningly sweet manner that made Brooke want to hurl. Gigi and Crystal hovered behind Nicky’s shoulders like little cartoon devils and angels, except in Brooke’s opinion neither of them had many angelic qualities about them.

Attempting to ignore the gatecrashers in her office, Brooke turned back to her monitor. She supposed that maybe both Gigi and Crystal were pleasant people. Perhaps even Nicky at a push. They might still have been fun and friendly people to hang out with, after all, the politics they followed didn’t define them. Suddenly remembering a very obvious exception (Hitler), Brooke sent another withering glare the opposition’s way. Hit with another pang of doubt, she reasoned that comparing Nicky Doll to Hitler was perhaps an overreaction. Tuning out of the immigration stats that sat in front of her, Brooke instead found herself listening in to the conversation between Nicky and Nina.

“The space here is lovely. Very professional, very focused. There’s maybe about twenty-five percent that I’m not okay with, though. I think I’d prefer isolation booths for everybody to work in- it’ll keep everyone more on task,” Nicky asserted, Brooke noticing out the corner of her eye how Yvie and Scarlet both recoiled in horror at the thought of not being able to chat and keep each other going throughout the day.

“Okay, so you’d prefer isolation booths in addition to the longer working hours of 8.30am til 7pm, and only half an hour for lunch,” Nina confirmed. Her hair was twice as big and frizzy as it usually was, probably as a result of tearing half of it out in frustration after the amount of hours she’d spent with Nicky.

“Christ, does she want us chained to the phones as well?” Adore mumbled. Brooke immediately tensed up- if she had heard that comment, then Nicky definitely had too. Sure enough, Nicky whipped her head round and stared Adore straight in the eye.

“That’s very funny, but no. I would not be chaining people to phones, I would simply be employing popular and common tactics that are used by employers the world over. Something which you wouldn’t have to worry about, because I wouldn’t have you working for me,” she smiled fake-sweetly, her voice getting more and more clipped as she reached the end of her sentence.

Brooke found herself praying that the opposition would never reach any position of power whatsoever if they were going to have this tiny dictator running the department. Adore had slunk down into her wheely chair, as if trying to make herself invisible. Suddenly, Brooke heard Jackie’s office door open behind her.

“What the hell is going on out here?” she muttered as she reached Brooke’s desk, looking straight at the visitors to the department. Glad of an opportunity to relieve the tension, Nina once again plastered the fake smile on her face.

“Minister, may I introduce your opposite number, Shadow Minister Nicky Doll,” she smiled at Jackie, waving a hand at Nicky as if she was unveiling a booby prize on a game show.

It was interesting to watch how the two women regarded each other. Nicky immediately narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips together in a display of agitation at no longer being the highest authority in the room. She made no show of moving to shake Jackie’s hand, in fact she didn’t appear to want to speak to Jackie at all. Instead, Jackie herself made the first move and stepped forward once, twice, finally reaching a safe distance and holding out a hand for Nicky to shake. Her face was placid and gave nothing away. Almost Sleeping Beauty-esque, Brooke thought.

“Nicky, it’s so good to finally meet you properly,” she smiled calmly as Nicky gingerly took her hand to shake. “I hope you and your team have had a good day in the department?”

“Oh yes, it’s been lovely. Although obviously there are a number of things that will need changed once we get into power!” Nicky gave a fake little laugh, her eyes still hostile.

“Well. If,” Jackie wrinkled her nose in a smile, which Nicky returned sourly.

Brooke was suddenly distracted by a buzz from her phone. Yvie.

Y: Christ there’s more fake smiles in here than the outpatients’ at a fucking plastic surgery

If Brooke had been in the mood she probably would have been howling with laughter, but the tense, uncomfortable conversation was still taking place.

“I found it interesting that you chose to highlight my disagreement with Manila Luzon in your interview with Chad Michaels. I felt it slightly undermined your point about the need to raise other women in politics up when you yourself were clearly intent on taking me down,” Nicky continued to smile falsely, the bitter undertone to her words not going unnoticed by Brooke. Jackie kept calm, smiling lazily back and raising her eyes to the ceiling.

“Oh, I don’t know about undermining my point. In order to make a good argument, you have to present some evidence to back it up, and that’s all I was doing. I’m sure you understand it was nothing personal,” she said, giving a little nod.

Nicky flared her nostrils, her face now unimpressed as she swept a hand through her hair, rendering her bun a little messy. “Well. It was lovely to meet you anyway, Jackie, but I still have numerous issues to talk through with Nina. If you’ll excuse me.”

With that, Nicky turned on her heel, not even bothering to wait for a reply. On her way back to Nina, she stopped to murmur something in Gigi’s ear, which then resulted in Gigi marching round the corner. Brooke could have followed her up, but was too distracted by Jackie coming to hover at her desk.

“Numerous issues? I’ll bet she has numerous fucking issues, God. Let’s hope that lot never get into power, she’s more unhinged than a flat pack IKEA cupboard,” Jackie whispered, causing Brooke to splutter a laugh. Jackie smirked at her reaction, then her face grew suddenly serious. “Did you know if Nina managed to get that photo op cancelled?”

“She did it about half an hour after we spoke. Jan really got on her back about it, so it was pretty impossible for Nina to wriggle out of it,” Brooke explained offhandedly, trying in vain to focus on her work. Looking up, she noticed that Jackie seemed to have a faraway look on her face.

“She’s so good, isn’t she? Jan. She’s just incredible. So organised and on it,” Jackie said quietly to no-one in particular. Confused, Brooke simply nodded. Apparently remembering where she was, Jackie cleared her throat, smoothed her skirt down and returned to her office.

Around ten minutes later, Brooke thought she was making some real headway with the persisting immigration data. That was until she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand come crashing down on her shoulder. Spinning around rapidly in her wheely chair she was shocked to see Bianca looming above her, her face grave as her eyes met Brooke’s.

“Bianca, holy fuck. You scared the crap out of me,” Brooke sighed, Bianca not even cracking a smile as her grip on Brooke’s shoulder tightened and she escorted her out of the room. Brooke’s stomach churned as she was led out into the corridor. What the hell was happening, or what the hell had happened, or what the hell was about to happen?

The bright white light of the corridor contrasted violently with Bianca’s expression, which was the personification of the wrath of God itself. She was silent for a moment, which prompted Brooke to tentatively speak first.

“So, um. Why did you want to see-”

“I want to know why a certain Sasha Belle over at transport now has the very same PR stunt I very nearly passed a kidney stone to secure for Jackie,” Bianca snapped. Her voice was cold and low, and Brooke felt goosebumps prickle over her skin just hearing her speak. She felt conflicted. Half of her wanted to reveal Jackie’s personal reasons for having backed out; it was a legitimate excuse and might even make Bianca feel some form of remorse, God willing. On the other hand, it was a part of Jackie’s life which Brooke was sure she wanted to leave behind, and if more and more people knew about it, well. That would make it increasingly hard to forget. Biting her lip, she tried to tell a white lie.

“She had personal reasons for backing out. We decided as her team of advisors that it would be best if she didn’t go through with it.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what deeply held personal fucking reasons she had against it, it is her JOB to go to photo ops, it is her JOB to give herself media coverage!”

“Well she couldn’t even if you wanted her to. Not legally anyway,” Brooke found herself saying, her voice too loud in the echoey hallway. Bianca raised her eyebrows a little, as if urging Brooke to go on. Slightly regretting having not simply kept her mouth shut, Brooke continued.

“Jackie had her driving license revoked. It was years ago- she was texting while driving and crashed on the motorway. So even if she wanted to do the damn publicity, she couldn’t,” she explained, sighing as Bianca’s face slowly took on a look of realisation. “I don’t know how you didn’t already know this, Bianca. Her license was fake, I don’t get how that slipped by you. I thought you did background checks on everyone that came within a five mile radius of the party.”

Bianca exhaled loudly, slowly running one hand down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it, then opened it again.

“When I asked you about Jackie, it wasn’t just a casual, out-of-interest enquiry. We were seriously fucking desperate. We had nothing on her, nothing on her at all apart from the fact that we knew she had a degree in politics and she’d been around the stock exchange for years. We were just desperate to get Darienne out of the party and stop the fucking spiral of madness she was driving us all down. Her position had become toxic, Brooke Lynn, nobody we approached about the job would touch it. So we needed somebody unknown, someone who wouldn’t know or understand who she was succeeding. That’s why we failed to do intensive background checks. I mean, we established that Jackie hadn’t murdered or stabbed anyone, for Christ’s sake. But everything else we had to skim over. We couldn’t have had Darienne in her job for any longer, it would have just…it would have just killed the party.”

Brooke could sort of understand where Bianca was coming from. Taking a calming breath, she suddenly felt the panic rise up in her throat again. “But Bianca, if this gets to the papers-”

Bianca cut her off, holding a single hand up in front of her face and looking down the corridor with suspicion. Wordlessly, she walked to the double doors at the end of the corridor and wrenched them open. Behind them stood Gigi, who jumped at the sudden movement.

“Oh. Hello Bianca. I was just, uh. Trying to find the toilets. This department is like a damn labyrinth, you know?” she laughed awkwardly, almost paralysed under Bianca’s glare.

“Do you want a massive cup to press against the door too, or are you good?” she quipped dryly.

Brooke’s heart began to palpitate nervously. Gigi had clearly been behind that door and listening for quite some time. How long, she didn’t know. But if she’d heard the reason why Jackie couldn’t drive, this was all different kinds, shades, textures and flavours of bad.

“Bianca, really. All I heard was that Jackie wasn’t exactly vetted properly. Which, you know, could be kind of a big story in itself, I think,” Gigi smiled cunningly. All at once, Brooke wanted to laugh. Attempting to get the upper hand on Bianca Del Rio was an interesting tactic, one which basically ensured you weren’t going to win. Deciding to step back, Brooke let Bianca take the reins.

“Oh, I see! You were looking for a story! Well here, here’s a great one for you,” Bianca smiled sinisterly, putting Brooke in mind of a predator about to pounce. “Did you know that Jaqueline Cox is sitting in that office there despite the fact her driving license got revoked? She crashed her car on the motorway because she tried to text and drive at the same time. Did you not know that?”

Brooke watched as Gigi’s face lit up at the revelation. She had to admit she didn’t really know where Bianca was going with this or what she had to gain from revealing the information to one of the Shadow Minister’s aides. As Brooke attempted to interject, Bianca simply turned and fixed her with a smile.

“You didn’t know that, no?” she asked Gigi again. She simply shook her head, delighted at what had just been revealed. “Oh, wait, of course…you wouldn’t know that! Because the only people who do know that are, um, Miss Cox…her three advisors…and me. If this information got to the press…I would know that it came from you.”

Brooke wanted to practically jump for joy as she saw Gigi’s face fall, growing very apprehensive as Bianca took two steps towards her. Her voice lowering, Bianca continued the onslaught.

“And I would rain down upon you so hard that your body would have to be re-assembled by crash team investigators-” she hissed. Gigi opened her mouth to defend herself and Bianca immediately stopped her. “- do not fucking interrupt me, girl. Now, you breathe a word of this to ANYONE, you fucking living toothpick, and I will-”

Already shaking with laughter, Brooke ducked her head out of the door and ran into the offices.

“Jan! ‘Ness! Come quick. Bianca’s going off on one at Gigi,” she stage-whispered, the two girls looking up, bemused but quickly following Brooke back to the corridor doors nonetheless. The double doors were fronted with a small pane of clear glass, which the three girls all peered through to see Bianca continuing to verbally grill Gigi, now far less composed than she was before.

“…I will eviscerate you, right? And I mean, I don’t have your education, I don’t know what that means. But I’ll start by plucking your eyes out and I’ll busk it from there. Okay? Glad we’re agreed. Have a great day.”

As Gigi stumbled back down the hall in a daze as if she’d just crawled out of an avalanche, the three girls on the other side of the door tried to compose themselves after their laughing fit.

“Bianca has such a way with words,” Jan mused, wiping tears from her eyes. “So why was she yelling at Gigi, what had she done? Looked at her?”

Brooke explained what had happened to the two girls, watching as their facial expressions shifted from confused, to fearful, then some semblance of reassured. There was still an aspect that was a little panicked, however, the knowledge that Gigi knew about Jackie’s past clearly worrying them both.  

“Look, don’t give it too much thought. Bianca has it all under control. She always does,” Brooke reassured them, shrugging as she walked back to her desk.

“Guess I’m happy to trust Bianca,” Vanessa smiled, relaxing a little. “Hey, you ladies had lunch yet?”

“Not yet. Pret?” Brooke offered, Vanessa smiling beautifully and picking up her bag from her chair. Brooke didn’t miss how Jan simply nodded silently, her face still troubled, clearly not as trusting of Bianca as Vanessa was.

***

As the three girls sat huddled around Jan’s desk eating their lunch, Brooke watched as Vanessa scoffed down her messy meatball panini with marinara sauce and mozzarella cheese that oozed out the side and made long, inconvenient strings. She could have teased Vanessa for her shambles of a lunch but she decided against it, instead choosing to compliment her.

“‘Ness, how can you eat literally whatever you want and still look so good?” Brooke asked, attempting to look offhanded but still feeling like her guts were made of jelly as the words came out her mouth. It was hugely tiresome how much more nervous and self-aware she was around Vanessa now that she’d actually acknowledged her crush on her. It was much harder to pretend things were purely platonic if she gave her a compliment.

In response, Vanessa simply smiled bashfully and shrugged, her mouth full of food. “Hey, I always wonder the same thing about you, baby. I’d kill to look like you.”

“With these thighs? Girl, no you wouldn’t,” Brooke snorted, trying to keep herself from blushing.

“You got good thighs,” Vanessa insisted, making Brooke wonder just how much attention Vanessa paid to her legs. Snapping out of it, Brooke told herself that she was probably just being kind. After a beat of silence, Jan cut in.

“Well, I know both of you find me wildly attractive and are also madly jealous of my amazing figure, which is why neither of you have said anything,” she joked through a mouthful of salmon salad. Brooke gave her a playful shove, shocked when she heard a little cry.

“Jesus, Jan! It wasn’t that sore.”

“That wasn’t me. That came from Jackie’s office,” Jan said gravely, looking at the Minister’s office door where she could just see the blonde bun belonging to Nicky peering over the strip of frosted glass. Exchanging concerned looks, all three girls made their way over.

Brooke was the first to walk in and when her gaze met Jackie’s her heart sank. She was sitting behind her desk and had turned pale, her eyes frightened and huge in her face which had gone almost ghostly white. Turning her gaze to Nicky she noticed that the girl seemed smug in some way, as if she had the upper hand. In a moment, Brooke knew exactly what had happened.

Gigi had spilled.

“Miss Doll, you ain’t actually allowed in here. This is the Minister’s private office,” Vanessa began in a valiant effort to stick up for Jackie who was clearly past sticking up for herself.

“Oh, it’s quite alright. Jackie and I were just having a little chat. A little reminisce on the past, if you like. Well. Her past,” Nicky smiled, casting an amused gaze at Jackie whose face was ashen and defeated as she sat at her desk. Brooke suddenly felt herself overcome with fury.

“I hope you’re giving Gigi a big pay rise for that information. She won’t have much time to spend it though once Bianca finds out. I’d maybe give her two…three days left to live?” she hissed, her face contorted as she glared at the shadow minister.

“Brooke Lynn, is it?” Nicky addressed her, Brooke momentarily wondering how she knew her name. “Brooke Lynn. We all know what it’s like in politics. Unfortunately if someone has some information on someone else, it’s only natural that they’re going to exploit it. And that’s all that’s happening here! It’s not personal. Just professional.”

“Like hell are you exploiting anything,” Jan spat, her face dark. Come to think of it, Brooke had never really seen her so angry, but the tiny girl was like a spitfire as she narrowed her eyes at her old boss. “You know full well where to draw the line between personal and political information. If you leak this to the media then you’re more reprehensible than the party you represent.”

“I’m sorry ladies, but this is how you play the game, and I play to win. I’m not really prepared to discuss it any further,” Nicky rolled her eyes, picking up her bag from where it sat on Jackie’s desk.

Just as she made to leave, Nicky turned to see Bianca standing in the doorway of Jackie’s office, glancing with confusion at the scene in front of her.

“Bianca!” Vanessa cried, for once happy to see the Prime Minister’s enforcer. “We were just talkin’ about how Nicky maybe shouldn’t go to the papers about Jackie…? Telling them about her driving license? Tryin’ to think of a reason why this would reflect badly on her party in some way…?”

Brooke watched as Vanessa looked pleadingly at Bianca, willing her to do something, anything to spin them out of the situation. Bianca for her part seemed calm, upbeat even.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe she should! Good idea!” she shrugged, flashing a smile Nicky’s way as she turned and made to leave the room.

Vanessa’s face immediately dropped as if she’d been slapped. Jan’s expression was completely blank. Brooke didn’t know what to think. It seemed as if Jackie was holding her breath, and Nicky simply stood rooted to the spot, her eyes still on Bianca as if she knew there was more to come. Sure enough, Bianca reached the doorframe, stopped, and turned on her heel.

“Oh, shit, wait a minute! I know why she shouldn’t! Because you know, if she did that…she’d be dead,” Bianca said simply.

Brooke watched as Nicky blinked silently at her. Bianca continued to speak.

“To me. To her advisors. To her party. To the electorate. And the only job she’d get in power is for this government’s catering company sweeping up crumbs as a kitchen cleaner, because I’d call every journalist I know, which of course- that’s all of them! Isn’t it Nicole! And I’d tell them all that lovely little story I’ve had saved for a rainy day, about a certain Right Honourable Lord Doll- how is your Dad, by the way?- and how he enjoyed a lovely five years as a member of the Bullingdon Club at university, a club so fucking morally bankrupt they had a exposé film made about them! Of course, the homeless person your Dad had to burn money in the face of for his initiation- he didn’t enjoy it so much. Nor did the live pigeon he had to bite the head off of either. And I believe there’s also rumblings about…something about a pig, which I won’t go into. And so I’d quite happily email all these journalists any photos and soundbites and CCTV footage they wanted, because I’d say…I’d say that’s quite a big story. I’d say that would probably contest a Minister’s silly little eight-year-old car accident in the running order of the ten o’clock news. That’s what I’d tell her,” Bianca finally finished calmly, smiling a little at Nicky whose mouth was now hanging open like a goldfish. Turning to Vanessa, Bianca simply nodded on her way out of the door. “But maybe you should tell her!”

Catching Vanessa’s eye, Brooke couldn’t help but burst into a triumphant grin. Vanessa returned the smile, now completely relaxed knowing that Jackie had the upper hand. Nicky was still standing completely still and hadn’t moved since Bianca had left.

“I’ll, um. I’ll ask Nina to get your coat,” Jackie addressed Nicky pleasantly, sitting at her desk and pushing a single number on the phone as Nicky simply nodded wordlessly.

Brooke wanted to burst out laughing. Bianca had her enemies in Westminster, but she was also an absolute mastermind.

***

They had made it through the day. They always did, after all. They were a great team, Brooke thought, and God help them if they were ever disbanded in any way. Sitting in a quieter corner of the office with her head tipped against the head of the sofa, Brooke took a deep breath. It was often needed at the end of days like these. Jan sat to her right, curled up against the arm of the couch and simply staring into the distance. Thinking for a moment, Brooke turned her head and stared at Jan.

“Do you think Bianca really had all that stuff to back up what she said about Nicky’s Dad?”

Jan smirked and met Brooke’s eyes. “It’s Bianca. She’s a walking, talking database. She probably has shit on all of us. She probably knows stuff about us that we haven’t even done yet.”

Before Brooke could even try to get her head around Jan’s words, Vanessa joined them. She flung herself against the sofa dramatically, gently tilting her head so that it rested in the crook of Brooke’s shoulder. For a second she could barely breathe.

“I wonder what she’s going to do to Gigi when she next sees her. Can’t imagine I’d want to be in her six-inch heels right now,” Brooke continued, trying to talk through her breathlessness.

“We talkin’ about Bianca?” Vanessa murmured, nuzzling her head against Brooke’s shoulder to get comfortable. Christ, why the fuck did she have to do that?

“Yeah,” Jan smiled wistfully. “God, I’d be running for the hills if I was her. Alyssa’s charity ball is in three weeks, remember? I wouldn’t put it past Bianca to stage a live crucifixion as the night’s entertainment.”

Brooke felt Vanessa laugh softly against her side. She was such a warm, happy person, at least when she wasn’t stressing her head off at the latest party shambles. She was too good to be working here, but Brooke was so glad that she was.

“So you’re not going to be ditching us to run back to the opposition anytime soon then? Not going to be meeting up with Gigi and Crystal for a cute little catch-up coffee?” Brooke only half-joked, turning to address Jan again. She watched as Jan’s face grew a little dark, her brow furrowing as she let out a derisive laugh.

“I’m not fucking with anyone who attempts to sabotage Jackie’s career,” she said forebodingly.

There it was again, Brooke thought, this protective side to Jan which she’d never really seen before. She didn’t think she’d ever get over how strange it was.

Footsteps behind the sofa prompted all three of them to turn around. It was Jackie- she’d freshened up her makeup a little and had sprayed some deodorant or perfume or something that smelt nice. Reaching the sofa, she gave a warm smile to the three girls.

“Thanks for your support today, ladies,” she said sincerely, leaning on the back of the sofa. “It was a tough one, but we got there in the end.”

“Sorry that Nina couldn’t arrange an alternative bit of PR in time, Jackie,” Vanessa smiled apologetically. Jackie let out a small laugh.

“Are you kidding? That was a blessing in disguise. After the day I’ve had the last thing I want to do is go and feign interest in electric cars for an hour,” she shook her head. “Seriously though, thank you. You three are a total blessing.”

Brooke was surprised when she then turned to face Jan, her expression turning a little shy. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, two minutes. I need to pack up and I’ll be good,” Jan smiled timidly back at her, her cheeks going a little red.

“Okay. I’ll wait at the lifts. See you tomorrow, girls,” Jackie said finally, waving goodbye to Brooke and Vanessa before walking away.

Vanessa tipped her head off Brooke’s shoulder to lean forward and look at Jan, who was grabbing her coat. “Where are you two off to then, Miss Ma’am?”

Jan stopped in her tracks, as if she hadn’t really been expecting the question. “Oh! Um, Jackie’s just giving me a lift home.”

Brooke screwed up her face at her friend. “A lift home? In her car? That she drives? Is that meant to be a joke?”

Seemingly realising her mistake, Jan smiled and shook her head. “I meant her driver. Her driver’s going to drop me home on the way back to Jackie’s.”

Brooke sat blankly for a moment, turning to Vanessa and seeing her face hold the exact same expression. Vanessa laughed in disbelief. “Your flat’s five minutes away, you lazy shit!”

“Hey, give me a break! I’m exhausted, a five minute walk is still a walk I don’t want to do, and I’ll take what I can get,” Jan shrugged, grabbing her bag and making to leave. “Bye, girls. See you both tomorrow.”

Brooke gave a tired reply as Jan made her way out of the department. Sighing, Vanessa leant against the arm of the sofa, kicking her legs over Brooke’s lap and subsequently causing Brooke’s pulse to quicken by about 90%. They sat in silence for a moment, Brooke’s brain too full to even contemplate starting a conversation. Luckily, it was Vanessa that spoke first.

“Do you think something’s goin’ on there? Between Jackie and Jan?”

Brooke paused. If it were any other situation, she’d maybe have thought Vanessa was right. But this was work, and sometimes people got incredibly passionate about their party and the people that ran it. Jan had had to put up with Nicky, and then Darienne. It was only natural that now that she was finally working for someone competent of course she was going to want with every fibre of her being for that person to do well. Turning to face Vanessa, Brooke made a doubtful face.

“No, girl. Jan’s just loyal. She wants to see Jackie do well. That’s all I think it is anyway.”

Brooke watched as Vanessa knit her brows together, frowning momentarily then casting her gaze into her lap.

“You know-” she began, then cut herself off as she decided against saying whatever she had to say. Then, changing her mind, she began again. “I swear you’re so blind half the time, Brooke Lynn. I think you have your guard up so high you can’t even see when someone has feelings for someone else. It’s kinda…I don’t know. Anyway. It don’t matter.”

Brooke watched, astounded as Vanessa swung her legs off her lap and stood up. Her face was bright red, as if she was embarrassed in some way. Brooke felt she had to reply, but she had no idea what to say or how to respond. She simply blinked at Vanessa, as if her last ditch attempt at communication was morse code.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Vanessa continued, smoothing down her dress and smiling as if she hadn’t said a thing. Going along with the façade, Brooke nodded slowly. “Bye, Brooke.”

As Vanessa’s footsteps retreated down the office and into the lift, Brooke just stared straight ahead and tried to make sense of what Vanessa had said, or what it even meant, or what the implications were. It had felt like she was mad at her in some way, although Brooke couldn’t figure out what she’d done. What had she meant by it all? It made Brooke’s head hurt.

She was still there when the cleaners arrived half an hour later, and she still hadn’t managed to unscramble her brain. Giving up, Brooke grabbed her coat and bag and made her way to the lifts, stuck with the feeling that somehow she’d left something behind.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

So 5x18...

...Well hot d*mn.

Man when Supergirl fires on all cylinders...HOO BOY.

Case in point: *gestures to all of 5x18*

To be clear: I liked this one.

A WHOLE LOT.

Not that I disliked 5x17, necessarily. It’s just that 5x18 was more... Entertaining? ...I dunno. I dunno how to explain it.

...Okay yes I do and that explanation is: Someone remarked on Kara’s use of language and Kara overcompensated on the ‘NOooOOooOO I’m totally 100% normal!’ AND there was a musical quote AND it was WHILE TEAMING UP WITH ALEX TO FOLLOW A LEAD.

But I’m getting ahead of myself let’s backtrack...

TO THE TOWER! WITH ALEX! NIA! KARA! AND M’GAAAAAANNNNN!!!!!!

June Foray voice: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?!?!?!

I know I’m not the first person to make that reference but it’s always fitting and, for real, recurring character status WHEN. (I mean. Obviously I would prefer series regular but that feels like a big ask considering that all future TV production is...uh. Ah. Erm....

...Up in the air. At the moment.)

And then we check in with the Luthors and Non Nocere isn’t working???

I am shocked! Shocked, I say!

And then we’ve got Obsidian doing something ill-advised which is basically the company’s MO at this point but KELLY AND WILLIAM ARE ON THE CASE REGARDLESS.

(So that’s kinda the one thing I’m sad about re: the Crisis reset; Andrea’s character development. But she’s sticking around for next season so I’m not too upset that she remains...kinda...one note for now.)

And THEN the library scene. 

It was so gooooood.

Then Leviathan and okay. Alright. Okay. Huge points in this episode’s favor: Rama Khan feels like a far more significant threat. And I feel like 80% of that is the fact that they just let him wear normal clothes. Thank you, show. Thank. You.

Also the rock effects were way better in this episode because they weren’t footing the bill for a giant crossover episode this time around

I am a little confused, though, by what has and has not happened with regards to Rama Khan on Earth Prime. Did the pre-Crisis stuff...happen? The dialogue...kinda made it hard to decide one way or the other. ‘He hasn’t been seen on this Earth for 100s of years’ but then also, ‘a chilly place you know quite well.’ So...he...did go to the Fortress. And fight Kara? But...all that stuff before Crisis...???

...Not gonna bother with that right now.

POINT IS...Leviathan is finally like...invested in killing Supergirl* and menacing in a very real way which both raises the stakes and makes it personal and that’s way more interesting than ‘nebulous evil organization that must be stopped.’

*I know they kinda sorta already did the whole, ‘let’s kill the Kryptonian!’ and invaded the Fortress but I don’t know what to tell ya, it was just lackluster.

J’ONN AND M’GAAAAAANNNNN

I am firmly in camp: I don’t care if they’re never green again I love seeing them in the super suits with their human faces IT’S GREAT.

Love that Nia’s snoring interrupts the moment.

Also love the deck of Rama Khan playing cards, that must’ve been a fun project for the graphic designers.

Then we’ve got William and Kara at CatCo and it’s baked goods! A hilarious line delivery by Staz! A ridiculous fabrication involving a shy, violent cat!

...Now I want Alex to actually own a shy, violent cat!

“Cats love me, for some reason.” “Of course they do.”

Side note: Love Kara’s blazer.

And then it’s ALIEEEEEENS TO THE RESCUE!

WHAT A TEAM UP, FOLKS.

We love to see it.

The interrogation scene is good n’ tense and ramps up to a very impressive showdown in the DEO (but BEFORE the sparks really start flying we get that rad shot of Kara leaping through the window and doing the superhero landing and it’s just

Perfection.)

Also perfect? Lex playing a game of transmatter pickle with the prisoners.

Then we jump back to the DEO where things are not going well!

Like, really really bad! 

But J’onn and M’gann save the day! If not the building!

RIP DEO. 2016-2020

Obituary: The DEO headquarters is survived by its elder sibling, the DEO desert base.

Look none of the favs work there anymore save for Kara and Brainy and they’re both gonna be better off working freelance for J’onn but I do expect Brainy to at least pick up some additional cash by working as a Lyft driver next season.

Me, watching the characters struggle to make it in the gig economy: I feel so seen.

The final portion of the episode is just ALL ACTING and I must say...good stuff.

Like. This cast, man. They take the plot points I’ve been ‘meh’ about all season and they turn in some stellar performances and suddenly I’m like STANDING OVATION, CAN’T WAIT TO SEE WHERE THIS GOES.

Also, reason #342 I love Jon Cryer’s Lex: that scene with Lena.

Terrifying.

Full disclosure: I went in to this episode fully prepared to be really annoyed with whatever was going to happen with Lena and I still don’t...love the trajectory of this season, being so tied up in her personal drama but. 

But.

Katie McGrath’s performance...went an awful long way here. In making this...not as bad as it could have been.

Like tearfully admitting she was hurt? And that hurt was the basis of all the nonsense she pulled? Finally owning up to the fact that this was never truly about the greater good but that it was all rooted in some personal issues and OUTRIGHT STATING SHE WAS BEHAVING LIKE A VILLAIN????

I am. Extremely impressed.

EVEN MORE IMPRESSIVE THOUGH: Kara remaining distant both physically and emotionally throughout that scene! Not in like, a cold uncaring way, but in a, ‘I have emotions and I have a right to feel them and set boundaries in regards to my trusting you right now given all that has transpired’ kind of way.

GOOD. YES. GOOD.

(Lex’s outburst has that kind of same Nice Guy undertone--albeit more pronounced and rage-y--as Lena’s in the Fortress. Like, ‘I supported you and you still rejected my plot to take over the world’ and ‘I was kind to you and you still messed up my mind control’ which...I dunno I might just be digging in too deep here in order to further justify the character turn but I think Cryer’s performance regardless is a really sobering wake up call for Lena, different than Lex stuff we’ve seen before. It’s close and intense and uncomfortable in a way that really sells the motivation.)

“You’re a monster...but that doesn’t mean I have to be one too.”

Wow. Might be...the first time I’ve liked Lena all season.

...whispers: might be the first time I’ve liked her ever at all

For real: credit where it’s due, that was an excellent line read.

*insert applause here*

CUT TO ADORABLE J’ONN AND M’GANN MOMENT 

D’aaaawwwwwwwwww

But, look, it’s a little undermined by the fact that they both gotta try and embrace in those bulky super suits, I’m sorry, it’s true

...Maybe it’s more endearing that way?

HEY remember how I foolishly assumed that the now-unemployed Alex would simply continue to work with J’onn in an investigative capacity and, ya know, NOT jump straight back into costumed badassery? 

HA. HAHA HAHAAAA.

Those leaked set photos make sense now.

OH NO, WILLIAM!

Real glad Staz confirmed he’s returning. Otherwise I would not be able to DEAL WITH THE STRESS.

I already talked a little bit about the loft scene but some additional points! Beautiful lighting. Wonderful score. Excellent performances all around.

A truly great end to a truly great episode.

Like, it makes me retroactively sad, that we’re only getting 5x19, as opposed to 5x19 and 5x20 because I wish that the crew/writers/actors had a little more space to let all of this good work they’ve done settle and breathe. 

(But also, it was good that they stopped production, from a safety standpoint, so. Can’t be too upset.)

And, regardless of how the next episode goes down (b/c I’m gonna be real, SG always does really great set-ups for their season finales and then kinda...rushes to the finish line and that can only be further exacerbated in this particular case) I’m just really impressed with this effort here.  

...but also LET’S TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE SOME WILD GUESSES. Specifically, what is Alex’s vigilante name gonna be??? 

...

Alright I generally try to avoid addressing specific fandom complaints in these things b/c I generally try to avoid the fandom itself but of course some stuff has already leaked through all of my blocks/muting so:

‘Lena didn’t apologize!’ The words ‘I’m sorry’ were not said, sure, but 1.) season’s not over and 2.) for Lena, admitting she was wrong is huge. HUUUUUUUGE. It’s solid character growth and I really wish various subsets of fandom would recognize that it’s not fun, when fans hold on to negative stuff from characters’ past and refuse to acknowledge that the characters have changed.

‘Brainy should have seen this coming!’ This one is kind of more down to personal preference I guess but I feel like they’ve established that Brainy’s got a bit of a blindspot due to his feelings about his friends, so I don’t take this as a knock against his intelligence so much as him being stretched fairly thin because he’s playing all sides, and worried about the people he loves. YMMV, though. 

All the ‘fix-it’ stuff re: the last scene, by making Kara immediately forgive Lena. Lose me with that nonsense, bleh. 

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep16: Rex and Weevil Do Not Understand “Rock Bottom”

Hey guys.

Hey.

So... kind of crazy out there, right?

Well, you know what they say. When life gives you lemons, you watch Netflix.

Anyway, Yugioh is racing down this canyon that should be going up alongside the 101 and through the middle of many cities. Don’t worry about it.

And then I found out the name of a card I haven’t seen yet and wow it’s a name.

I’m really glad that Rex Raptor, dinosaur enthusiast, has just no idea how to name dinosaurs and does so like a 6 year old child. Hornsaurus.

(read more under the cut)

So this episode is mostly about Rex and Weevil’s tragic backstory, and thankfully, it’s really not that tragic. We’ve had SO MANY bizarre and weird backstories under our belt, that to have a completely normal one is just...wild to me. They’re so freakin normal.

And on the way, our train just...

OK Train...anyway, I’ll do my best to show which scenes are flash back and which are not, but like bear with me because it flashes back like every other scene it feels like.

So Rex waxes long about that very short time in which he and Weevil were the best ever duelists in Japan (other than Kaiba, I guess, who they failed to mention in this flashback.)

(I used to have a very soft performance fleece sweater the exact same shade as Weevil’s jacket there, popped collar and everything, with piping outline. Don’t judge me, it was the 00′s, I’m just shocked that Weevil also shopped at Old Navy.)

(However I have no idea what’s going on with Rex’s three layers of clashing outfit styles that he has going on. A turtleneck under a thick button up jacket under an open fringe jacket is so much of a 90′s vibe.)

Up until now, bro has been PRETTY SURE every episode that Rex and Weevil are originally from America. I don’t know how I feel about being so right on the money about this one when the episode outright said that they’re from Japan. I don’t really want to out-Yugioh my brother, because at some point, I’ll accidentally let slip that in writing this blog I have accidentally gained all Yugioh knowledge, just like Noah did that one time when he was stuffed into that brain orb.

Just please don’t don’t ask me how this game works, I still have absolutely no idea.

Weevil and Rex had adoring fans in two-shaded polos exactly just like the type I used to wear in high school. But, their fans all left them the moment Weevil lost one single game against Yugi Muto.

Harsh. But granted, I feel like the people of Domino have rabbit memories and if you aren’t actively in the news every day because your blimp got abducted by sea pirates, then who the hell is EVER going to know who you are?

But youknow, Rex and Weevil are pretty sure that dodging getting murdered by Pegasus was actually their last shot at fame. It’s over forever. They’re done. Done until they beat either Joey or Yugi which...very specific, but, it would make you somewhat famous if you did that by simultaneously destroying the Caltrain.

And Weevil is like gunning for the King of Games title but...apparently no one in this episode wanted to mention to Weevil that the “King of Games” moniker actually went to Raphael?

That he needs to beat Raphael...not Yugi Muto?

Nobody?

Nobody feels like mentioning that neither Yami nor Yugi could possibly still be King of Games and that Weevil has no really good reason to be here? I mean it would save Weevil a lot of time. It would also save me a lot of time. We could just walk off this train and go back to what we were all doing before this happened, but nah, lets keep the lie going, because apparently Yami can’t bear to tell the truth, just like his host.

Waiiiit, isn’t Rebecca the King of Games because she beat Yugi in S1?

It’s the freakin Malfroy/Elder wand, it’ll be important in Ch 40 I’m sure of it. I’m sure they’re not going to just...forget...all of the people that beat Yugi before.

Man. Maybe that’s why Yugi is so hell bent on keeping tabs on Rebecca? Just to youknow...make sure she doesn’t tell anyone that she hella beat him that one time because otherwise Kaiba would have lost his freakin mind (again) that Yugi lost that title basically the same afternoon he came back from Pegasus’ island.

Also Rex and Weevil once charged for headshots and this makes them vile, terrible people for some reason.

Apparently this is a bad practice? I mean if you’re famous enough please charge for head shots, you need to make money between playing cards. Take it from this jaded artist, always sell out so you can save money for when you will absolutely get carpal tunnel.

Whatever. Back to Rex who is certain that he is not famous anymore because he lost to Joey.

S4 and still everyone is certain that Joey is bad at cards. Joey will just never be free from this.

It was beautiful anime food for like ten seconds until he did this. How dare. Literally though, how did he do that? Was that burger made out of potato chips?

Can we talk about what a freakin crime it is I can’t watch my Nick at Night retro shows on Netflix or Hulu? Like hell I’m going to get a third streaming service so I can watch and admire how bad “I Love Lucy” aged. I want to see how incredibly off-putting Fonzie is as an adult. But nah. Not even allowed. You can only watch Cheers.

Cheers. What am I? 65? Cheers wasn’t on Nick at Night. My Mom watched Cheers. Gross.

This show trying to convince me so hard that Rex and Weevils lowest point wasn’t when they were 5 seconds away from being set on fire and having their soul removed by Maxamillion Pegasus.

Like for reals, the lowest point for ANYONE (except for the Ishtars) on this show was when they were trapped on that island, without any camping supplies, surrounded by human skulls, Bakura pre-exorcism, and so many other duelists who were probably going to eat them had the tournament gone 24 more hours than it had.

The island that also had a basement that was entirely full of cultists who absolutely murdered a guy right in front of us.

Like when they finally got out of the island’s huge ass forest, their dinner included a soup filled with Pegasus’ eyes.

I would have gotten pissed on by like 70 stray dogs to get off that island, y’all.

So one of the best things about this blog is I don’t have to worry about the restraint of a.) looking professional b.) the fear of sharing my actual real deal opinion. Everywhere else I post, I can’t share anything. I’ve come to terms with this, and so I hide my hot takes deep, deep within this Yugioh blog and the only people who suspect my art rage are like...y’all in the corner of Tumblr who do not care about what I’m talking about.

++++++++++++THIS IS MY HUGE RANT ABOUT ART POLITICS AND ART BITTERNESS FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS. WE’RE QUARANTINING SO MUCH OVER HERE DUE TO THE VIRUS THAT I AM GOING A LITTLE BIT HOUSE CRAZY+++++++++++++++

But like MAN I need to mention something. Both Joey and Rex are completely off base. Both of them.

Like I’ll be real, because of the sudden extra time I have on my hands, I was originally ranting quite a bit about art culture and stuff and I will admit it was projecting somewhat onto a TV show that was written before the recession and the gig economy basically came and laid a huge dump across the creative industry.

However, I really, really, really don’t like it when people naively say “I’m successful because I did the research, I did the work, and then I got a following despite doing no marketing at all,” LIKE HELL YOU DID, DUDE. And there’s certain places I go where this is the mantra of a hell ton of ppl who don’t believe in luck, and I have to just suck it in because they succeeded at a young age. Because inversely, if anyone doesn’t succeed right away--clearly they don’t work hard enough, right?

I won’t dig into real world stuff because that’s...the real world and the real world is a bummer, but even in the universe of Yugioh there’s this crazy disparity in duelers that the people on the top refuse to acknowledge and the people on the bottom have absolutely no way to cope with so they become insanely bitter about it.

Mai has mentioned that despite all of her hard work and success--because she isn’t the top 4 duelists of Kaiba’s tourney--no one knows who she freakin is. The card industry is so toxic, that even KAIBA dropped out.

And even without Kaiba to compete against anymore, Mai still wasn’t able to get in there to fill that void. The void that also has Marik and Odion in it, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure Marik will never touch a card ever again and might be back to living underground or on a boat in the middle of no-where. And we don’t even need to mention Bakura, right? Bakura who should have also been here to fill the void of fame, but his face probably only comes out fuzzy on camera like people haunted by that girl from the Ring. So we’ll just ignore Bakura, that makes sense, I can accept that canon.

But really...it’s just Joey and Yugi at the top of the crop when there should have been room for at least 4.

So, it’s interesting that the Oricalchos in this situation is the “get me popular quick” drug that will somehow give Rex and Weevil what they need for automatic success because I see people desperately looking for this SO MUCH online. I have seen so many post “This is how I got 100000 followers in 100 days,” and it’s always the same story that isn’t so much about hard work, but more how to game a broken system until all other competitors are invisible. And then there’s the hidden factor about...luck...that really offends people although we all know that it exists.

But just remember I’m not allowed to have this opinion that luck...exists...So if anyone asks, I never said this.

And also...if Rex and Weevil had any support up until now from these kids who have been stuffing them in the trunk for over a dozen episodes, they wouldn’t have done any of this.

So talking as a jaded Millennial, I’m not gonna judge you if you take your Oricalchos, if you know what I mean. Everyone has their reasons, and no one’s too good not to ever do it, lets be real.

+++++++++++++++END OF THIS RANT, WOW, I WANT TO SAY THAT WHILE SLAPPING A WHOLE LOT OF PEOPLE IN A GENTLE MANNER+++++++++++++

So I realized something. This cliff face is sort of an iconic train, but it’s the wrong train.

This is the Amtrak in the middle of Nevada/Utah, pretty sure. I know that shade of orange. I’ve done the Nevada drive a lot.

And part of the reason I’m even sleuthing into this is because as an artist I like to see where art inspiration comes from. It doesn’t just come from a void--they clearly did research and I just want to find out...how it happened.

So anyway, like I said last time, the Amtrak is in charge of the Caltrain management, although the Caltrain is not part of Amtrak. And so you get similar paint jobs--it’s just that Amtrak has blue topped cars, and the Caltrain cars are typically red. Yugioh safely did red, white and blue, which both cars do, to an extent, being American trains.

It’s possible that they decided to look up scenic trains in California and were like “this one looks neat.” This one is also named the “California Zephyr” which makes it seem super Californian but in actuality it goes from Emeryville, California to Chicago. Only problem is that Emeryville is North of Oakland, and we’re supposed to be taking the train “to the airport” when the airports are in Oakland or San Mateo. This train doesn’t go to the airport. You just drove by the airport.

This train also doesn’t go to Florida. Chicago is North, way north. This train exists to be a slow, scenic train for old tourists who want to sleep in cramped spaces or jaded millennials writing their award winning novel. It has no other purpose.

So, it doesn’t at all match anything story wise...but it looks cool. They would never take this train if the world was going to end, and Rebecca wouldn’t know it exists, but, it looks cool.

But anyway, onward to the next episode. I’ll be kind of bunking in my home for a while since my entire area basically shut down, so maybe I’ll get the next updates done earlier than usual? Maybe even catch up on my backlog? hm. Possibilities.

And if you just got here, this is all the Yugioh recaps in chrono order.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralistic: 18 Mar 2020 (Ethopia's Jack Ma infatuation, Charter's infect-the-world plan, Trumpist firefighters dismiss covid, Flatter Me, aviation bailouts need strings attached, the only way through is together, ventilator sharing, explainers, patents vs respirators, covid stimulus, DIY TP, 1665 plague orders+

Today's links

Ethiopian factory sports Jack Ma quotes: Global trade currents are shifting fast.

Charter orders all workers to keep showing up: Even the 15% of its workforce who could work from home.

MAGA firefighters dismiss coronavirus as Democrat hoax: And/or a Chinese bioweapon.

Flatter Me, a compliments card game: Kickstarting now.

American Airlines blew billions, now it wants a bailout: Socializing losses, privatizing gains.

John Green's mutual aid manifesto: The only way through is together.

How to split a single ventilator for four patients: Peer-reviewed simulations.

Bigoted Republican Congressjerk votes against coronavirus relief because it might cover same-sex partnerships: Rep Andy Biggs wants to send us all to meet Jesus.

Epidemiology and public health in 14 minutes: An epidemiologist and an sf writer make an outstanding science communications team.

3D printed ventilator hero got a patent threat: Human rights vs property rights.

If nothing is for sale, how will covid stimulus work? Can you fix a supply shock with stimulus?

How to make your own toilet paper: A craft for your isolated kiddos.

Plague precautions from 1665: No feasting, but you can tipple in a bar until 9PM.

This day in history: 2005, 2010, 2015, 2019

Colophon: Recent publications, current writing projects, upcoming appearances, current reading

Ethiopian factory sports Jack Ma quotes (permalink)

This pic was taken by researchers from Caribou Data at a textiles factory in Ethiopia. Every curtain on every window bore silk-screened quotes from Jack Ma's book (the name of the factory has been redacted to preserve the owner's privacy).

The researchers told me that 72 hours after Alibaba moved into Rwanda, every coffee farmer using the platform had sold out of their inventory.

It's a potent and visually arresting reminder of how global trade currents are shifting.

Charter orders all workers to keep showing up (permalink)

My local monopoly ISP is Charter. They're terrible in every single way. What's more, my city, Burbank, owns 100GB fiber that runs under my home's foundation slab, but I can't access it because of Charter's deal with the city. In addition to delivering slow-as-molasses connectivity at nosebleed prices (and relentlessly advertising upsells, dozens every week, print and digital), the company is also forcing all workers to show up in person during the pandemic – even those who could work from home.

They basically forced Nick Wheeler, an engineer who complained about this, to resign, calling his short, measured complaint about the policy "irresponsible," accusing him of "inciting fear."

https://techcrunch.com/2020/03/16/charter-coronavirus-work-home/

Charter gives its workers a single annual week's worth of sick-leave. Workers have to use that leave time if they are worried about contracting or transmitting coronavirus. Medical advice for coronavirus infections is to self-isolate for two weeks, though.

Even other telcos (AT&T, Comcast) are asking workers to work from home. Charter CEO Tom Rutledge has doubled down on his infect-the-world policy, because "While back office and management functions can be performed remotely, they are more effective from the office."

Charter is a tremendous beneficiary of public largesse. It gets access to our rights-of-way, something they couldn't hope to afford at market rates. It received billions in tax-cuts (which it squandered on stock buybacks). The company got Net Neutrality dismantled, and is given monopolies wherever it operates.

This largesse is predicated on the idea that Charter views itself as a steward and can be trusted with monopoly self-regulation. If you had any doubt that the company can't be trusted to pour piss out of a boot with instructions printed on the heel, this should dispel it forever.

What I'm saying is, if you ever have a Charter exec in your home, count the spoons before you let him leave.

MAGA firefighters dismiss coronavirus as Democrat hoax (permalink)

"IAFF Union Firefighters for Trump" is a 27,000 member Facebook group of first responders who split from their union over its endorsement of Biden; Trump himself has endorsed the group.

Today, it is full of firefighters and EMTs who say that coronavirus is no big deal.

Some of the group's members are posting evidence to the contrary from their working experience, talking about the devastation they're witnessing firsthand. Their colleagues reply with poop emojis and "Trump2020."

https://www.propublica.org/article/facebook-firefighters-corona#179168

The group is infected with the conspiracy theory that coronvirus is a panic cooked up by Democrats to discredit Trump, or that it's a Chinese bioweapon, an idea that Trump and his Congressional and Senate supporters have tacitly (or explicitly) endorsed.

This is especially worrying as EMTs and firefighters are at high risk of contracting coronovirus. If they don't take the risk seriously, they could spread it to vulnerable people, or reduce emergency capacity while they are quarantined (they also risk their own health).

Group founder Kelly Hallman told Propublica that "There's never been this much hoopla given to the other things. They're doing it to crash the economy and make Trump look bad…If you had to point a finger at why the leftist media and the left in general has a smile on their face about this, it's the Dow. My wife and kids are scared, believing what they're seeing on TV. I'm telling them it's not as bad as the media makes out."

Flatter Me, a compliments card game (permalink)

Flatter Me is Ami Baio's latest kickstarted card-game: "a two-player game for all ages with 250 unique compliments to play with friends, family, and partners."

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/amibaio/flatter-me-a-compliment-battle-card-game

Its creator Ami Baio specialises in games that turn on kindness and connection; her last project was "You Don't Know Me."

https://youthinkyouknowme.cards/

A $20 pledge gets you one Flatter Me deck, $35 gets a two-pack. The cards are also designed to be given as gifts: "given to friends who need a boost, tucked into cards or gift bags, or left for friends to find."

Baio is seeking $12k in pre-orders and is delivers in Oct.

American Airlines blew billions, now it wants a bailout (permalink)

Since 2014, American Airlines has accumulated a $30B debt. It did so while paying its shareholders $15B through stock buybacks, and while raising prices on fliers, nickel-and-diming on bag charges and other extras. Now its industry group – whose members spent 96% of their free cash-flow on buybacks – is seeking a $50B coronavirus bailout, with no strings attached. That's 300% more than the industry got after 9/11.

This is shareholder capitalism working as intended. As Matt Levine writes, "it is optimized to extract money for shareholders when things go well and minimize the amount of shareholder money that is at risk when things go very wrong."

http://link.mail.bloombergbusiness.com/join/4wm/moneystuff-signup

But as Tim Wu writes, bailouts should come with strings attached. The airlines engineered this situation for themselves. If we let them socialized their losses and privatize their gains (again), they'll do it again (again).

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/16/opinion/airlines-bailout.html

"Change fees should be capped at $50 and baggage fees tied to some ratio of costs. The change fees don't just irritate; they are a drag on the broader economy, making the transport system less flexible and discouraging otherwise efficient changes to travel plans."

"We should end the airlines' pursuit of smaller and smaller seats, which are not only uncomfortable and even physically harmful, but also foster in-flight rage and make the job of flight attendants nigh unbearable."

"Finally, we have allowed too much common ownership, permitting large shareholders to take a stake in each of the major airlines, creating incentives to collude instead of compete."

As Naomi Klein has reminded us, the Shock Doctrine (can) cut both ways: the Great Depression catalyzed transformative change and the New Deal. Let's not permit this disaster be seized by the people responsible for it.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/17/pluralistic-17-mar-2020/#disaster-socialism

John Green's mutual aid manifesto (permalink)

This video from John Green is a tonic: a reminder that humanity has a shared destiny and that cooperation is the human condition. and that mutual aid is key.

"The only way out is through, and the only way through is together."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dh23nwxpfe8

How to split a single ventilator for four patients (permalink)

In 2008, Greg Neyman and Charlene Babcock Irvin published "A Single Ventilator for Multiple Simulated Patients to Meet Disaster Surge" in the peer-reviewed Society for Academic Emergency Medicine journal.

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1197/j.aem.2006.05.009

In this video, Dr Babcock demonstrates how to split a single ventilator to safely and effectively treat up to four patients.

As she points out, there have been no studies of this, but it has been (temporarily) used successfully in the field.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uClq978oohY

Bigoted Republican Congressjerk votes against coronavirus relief because it might cover same-sex partnerships (permalink)

You may not get paid leave during the coronavirus crisis in part because Rep Andy Biggs (R-AZ) voted against it because his homophobia was more salient than his empathy.

https://theintercept.com/2020/03/17/coronavirus-stimulus-bill-andy-biggs/

He claimed (wrongly) that this was novel federal legislation in that it included domestic partnerships.

He was objecting to the provision of assistance to family members, including "biological, foster, or adopted child, a stepchild, a child of a domestic partner."

As Lee Fang writes, "The exact same legislative text around domestic partnerships and committed relationships is found in several bills in Congress, including paid sick leave legislation proposed as far back as 2015."

Biggs also lied and said that he objected to coronavirus relief because it would repeal the Hyde Amendment ("Two provisions that have nothing to do with the coronavirus are basically thrown into this thing. That's par for the course for the left").

The bill does not repeal the Hyde Amendment.

The Republican Party, folks. The party of death and poverty and tragedy and hate. Remember that in November.

Epidemiology and public health in 14 minutes (permalink)

Epidemiologist Dr. Ross Kauffman and sf writer Tobias Buckell teamed up to produce this short video explaining the costs of a runaway coronavirus epidemic to explain the need for drastic measures to their local Ohio town council.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqgINxGQB5w

It's a spectacular piece of science communications: grave without being alarmist, calm and measured, informative and plainspoken. It's a really important piece of video and I hope you'll watch it.

3D printed ventilator hero got a patent threat (permalink)

Remember the heartwarming story of the Italian makers who volunteered to fix their hospital's busted ventilators with 3D printed parts that they designed and produced on the spot?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/16/tiktoks-secrets/#3dp-breathfree

It turns out that these makers weren't just saving lives, they were also taking a legal risk. That's because when they asked the manufacturer for help with the project, the manufacturer countered by threatening to sue them for patent infringement.

https://it.businessinsider.com/coronavirus-manca-la-valvola-per-uno-strumento-di-rianimazione-e-noi-la-stampiamo-in-3d-accade-nellospedale-di-chiari-brescia/

The part they printed cost them 1 euro, while replacing the system would cost a reported EUR10,000.

In a heartfelt, and soul-searching post, one of the people behind the project says he won't try to distribute the files he created.

https://www.facebook.com/Ing.Cristian.Fracassi/posts/10222339428782713

I can't help but wonder if he's hoping to mollify the corporation whose threats he ignored to help save lives.

Postscript: If you're pondering the issues of open source/homebrew respirator design, check out this excellent thread on the material constraints and challenges of med-tech.

https://twitter.com/turzaak/status/1239544498553860096

If nothing is for sale, how will covid stimulus work? (permalink)

I'm a believer in Modern Monetary Theory and the idea that state deficit spending is not intrinsically inflationary – only when the state is trying to procure things the private sector wants, so they get into a bidding war.

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/16/18251646/modern-monetary-theory-new-moment-explained

In theory, the covid contraction is a great candidate for MMT stimulus. If people are stockpiling cash and thus eliminating their discretionary spending (40% of US GDP!), then the state can procure the discretionary items without triggering inflation.

Or there could be a hybrid, such as distributing vouchers to the public, redeemable for discretionary purchases – instead of bailing out aviation, we could buy people plane tickets, for example.

But that runs into a big problem: there's another reason people aren't making discretionary purchases, which is that those goods and services aren't available (manufacture has been disrupted by social distancing) or aren't safe (flying is incompatible with social distancing).

In this case, it seems to me that stimulus spending runs the risk of being inflationary (when everyone tries to redeem their plane ticket vouchers at once) or useless (people throw away their vouchers). Stimulus + supply shock = ??

That's not to rule out stimulus altogether, but it does suggest that the stimulus needs to be targeted, especially considering the size of the bailout that Wall Street is bandying about: trillions, in a matter of days.

https://www.newyorker.com/news/our-columnists/the-coronavirus-calls-for-wartime-economic-thinking

The GOP is calling for a $1,000/person bailout, but as @yvessmith says, this isn't much when it comes to the immediate expenses that affected people need to cover, like rent, mortgage, and, of course, treating covid-related illness without insurance.

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2020/03/why-sending-1000-checks-to-everyone-wont-solve-the-coronavirus

Maybe, instead, help to cover mortgage and rent, along with anti-eviction/foreclosure rules; help with utilities, expanded food aid, and swift Medicare for All. Then, once the crisis is passed, a big stimulus package – for people, not banks – that gets us buying stuff again?

TBH, I don't know. It's weird to feel skeptical of stimulus, given how valuable demand-side relief would have been over the past decade+. Obviously we don't want another 2008 plute bonanza giveaway, but we also don't want to inject ever more money to chase ever-fewer goods.

How to make your own toilet paper (permalink)

Making toilet paper at home is a pretty on-the-nose craft to try with your covid-isolated kiddos. You need newsprint, leaves/grass (as a cellulosic binder) and baby oil.

https://www.ehow.com/how_4514690_make-toilet-paper.html

Soak the paper until ink is mostly gone, slowly boil with leaves/grass, simmer 1h, bring to boil for 30m, adding water and skimming foam. Remove, ladle out excess water. Mix 4tbsps of baby oil in with pulp. Scoop pulp onto a towel, press with a rolling pin.

Gently beat out lumps with a rubber mallet, add another towel on top. Cover with a board and add weights. Wait 30m. Flip over, remove towel and leave to dry in sun. Cut into strips and use (sparingly).

Plague precautions from 1665 (permalink)

ORDERS CONCEIVED AND PUBLISHED BY THE LORD MAYOR AND ALDERMEN OF THE CITY OF LONDON CONCERNING THE INFECTION OF THE PLAGUE, 1665

https://brucesterling.tumblr.com/post/612917764072636416/orders-conceived-and-published-by-the-lord-mayor

Every parish needs examiners. Refuse duty and you go to prison: "persons of good sort and credit chosen and appointed by the alderman, his deputy, and common council of every ward, by the name of examiners, to continue in that office the space of two months at least."

Examiners must "inquire and learn from time to time what houses in every parish be visited, and what persons be sick, and of what diseases…[I]f they find any person sick of the infection, to give order to the constable that the house be shut up."

Infected homs get 24/7 surveillance two watchmen: "these watchmen have a special care that no person go in or out of such infected houses whereof they have the charge, upon pain of severe punishment."

They'll also get you groceries and lock up your shop.

Women "of honest reputation" are appointed by physicians as "searchers" to inspect the dead and determine cause of death. Searchers are helped by newly appointed "able and discreet chirurgeons," charged with ensuring that "a true report made of the disease."

Nurse-keepers have to be quarantined for 28 days after their patients die.

If plague is found in a house, the whole household is locked in for 28 days. Prior to sequestration, their personal effects have to be aired, treated with fire, and then perfumed. Anyone known to have visited a plague house is locked down for 28 days, along with their household, with the same airing, flaming and perfuming business.

Plague-dead may only be buried after sunset and before sunrise, with no mourners in attendance. No sermons or eulogies allowed. Graves must be 6 feet deep. All funerals are banned. Personal effects of the plague-dead must be destroyed, not given away or sold.

Public notice: "Every house visited be marked with a red cross of a foot long in the middle of the door.. and with these usual printed words… 'Lord, have mercy upon us,' to be set close over the same cross, there to continue until lawful opening of the same house."

Cab drivers can continue as normal, but if they carry someone thought to have plague they have to retire their hackney-coaches for 5-6 days and give them a thorough airing.

[[I sense that this may be a weak spot in the whole plan]]

There's also new sanitation rules requiring regular sweepings and rakings of "filth" from the streets, with all the human waste being dumped far from the city and not in local gardens. Smelly or rotten food-sales are banned.

Cops are charged with sweeping up and punishing beggars, who are banned from the streets.

No live entertainment: "all plays, bear-baitings, games, singing of ballads, buckler-play, or such-like causes of assemblies of people be utterly prohibited."

All restaurants are closed. Feasting is banned.

Bars are OK, but under suspicion, and must close by 9PM. The rule covers "tippling in taverns, ale-houses, coffee-houses, and cellars."

[[Again, this seems like a weak spot]]

This day in history (permalink)

#15yrsago Andre Norton, RIP https://web.archive.org/web/20050318045717/http://www.cnn.com/2005/SHOWBIZ/books/03/17/obit.norton.ap/index.html

#15yrsago Orrin Hatch is head of new IP subcommitee https://www.technewsworld.com/story/41548.html

#10yrsago Is the UK record industry arrogant or stupid? https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2010/mar/18/digital-economy-bill-calculated-loss

#10yrsago Entertainment industry sours on term "pirate" — too sexy https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2010/03/piracy-sounds-too-sexy-say-rightsholders/

#10yrsago YouTube: Viacom secretly posted its videos even as they sued us for not taking down Viacom videos https://youtube.googleblog.com/2010/03/broadcast-yourself.html

#10yrsago Michael Lewis's THE BIG SHORT, visiting the econopocalypse through the lens of LIAR'S POKER https://boingboing.net/2010/03/18/michael-lewiss-the-b.html

#5yrsago Insider view of the cash-for-gold ripoff https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/swindle-fraud/we-buy-broken-gold

#5yrsago Terry Pratchett's advice to booksellers https://www.thebookseller.com/blogs/advice-booksellers

#1yrago Facebook's year-old "improvements" to the newsfeed have elevated enraging Fox News posts to the service's dominant form https://www.niemanlab.org/2019/03/one-year-in-facebooks-big-algorithm-change-has-spurred-an-angry-fox-news-dominated-and-very-engaged-news-feed/

#1yrago Electronic Health Records: a murderous, publicly subsidized, $13B/year grift by way of shitty software https://khn.org/news/death-by-a-thousand-clicks/

Colophon (permalink)

Today's top sources: Mitch Wagner (http://mitchwagner.com/blog/), Kottke (https://kottke.org), Laurent Stanevich (https://twitter.com/LairBob), Naked Capitalism (https://www.nakedcapitalism.com), Slashdot (https://slashdot.org).

Currently writing: I've just finished rewrites on a short story, "The Canadian Miracle," for MIT Tech Review. It's a story set in the world of my next novel, "The Lost Cause," a post-GND novel about truth and reconciliation. I've also just completed "Baby Twitter," a piece of design fiction also set in The Lost Cause's prehistory, for a British think-tank. I'm getting geared up to start work on the novel next.

Currently reading: Just started Lauren Beukes's forthcoming Afterland: it's Y the Last Man plus plus, and two chapters in, it's amazeballs. Last month, I finished Andrea Bernstein's "American Oligarchs"; it's a magnificent history of the Kushner and Trump families, showing how they cheated, stole and lied their way into power. I'm getting really into Anna Weiner's memoir about tech, "Uncanny Valley." I just loaded Matt Stoller's "Goliath" onto my underwater MP3 player and I'm listening to it as I swim laps.

Latest podcast: The Masque of the Red Death and Punch Brothers Punch https://craphound.com/podcast/2020/03/16/the-masque-of-the-red-death-and-punch-brothers-punch/

Upcoming books: "Poesy the Monster Slayer" (Jul 2020), a picture book about monsters, bedtime, gender, and kicking ass. Pre-order here: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627?utm_source=socialmedia&utm_medium=socialpost&utm_term=na-poesycorypreorder&utm_content=na-preorder-buynow&utm_campaign=9781626723627

(we're having a launch for it in Burbank on July 11 at Dark Delicacies and you can get me AND Poesy to sign it and Dark Del will ship it to the monster kids in your life in time for the release date).

"Attack Surface": The third Little Brother book, Oct 20, 2020. https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531

"Little Brother/Homeland": A reissue omnibus edition with a new introduction by Edward Snowden: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250774583

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 60

Today's journal is later than usual again, but this time because I was playing Gardenscapes and listening to podfic and just completely lost track of time. Mother's Day is so great! I mean, my husband is very good about pulling a large amount of domestic weight in the household, especially considering he's the one with the full time job, but on Mother's Day, I get my breakfast in bed, and then I can basically do what I want during the day with no responsibilities. Even when we're not quarantined, that's usually some variant on "long bath, stay in pajamas, play games, read, eat terrible and delicious food." The guys cooked all the meals today and did all the chores. They are truly the best. 

Of course, when you are a mom and also have a mom, you do still have some duties on Mother's Day. MIL also got to enjoy three meals prepared by husband and kiddo, and we got her a sturdy ceramic mug with a knitted cozy, a tea strainer, and five sample-size teas from the tailgate market. Nothing big or fancy, but she liked it. My mom is far away and the logistics of shopping and mailing things is hard right now, but she likes homemade things better anyway. Since I don't currently have a WIP fanfic she is following, I had to get a little more creative and wrote her a poem instead. In my family and my home community, my mom is known as a poet of occasions, and will usually write some fun rhyming poetry for parties, big events, some holidays, etc. She loves rhyming poetry above all other kinds, although I have been able to convince her in recent years of the beauty of some nonrhyming poetic forms. I knew, though, that to make a poem she'd truly love, I'd have to make it rhyme. That is hard, especially when you're trying very hard not to write complete doggerel. I thought up the first few lines a few days ago and jotted notes down, but it wasn't until this morning that I actually managed to pound the entire thing out. Thank God for rhyming dictionaries! It turned out pretty well, and she definitely liked it, and she cried, so that was good. 

The weather is improving a little, it didn't freeze last night and it looks like the temperature is going to be ticking upward from here. That's good, because I want to plant the little plants! I went ahead and planted the green onions I rooted in a pot for the kitchen. Green onion cuttings are great because you just lop off the root end of the onion and drop it in water, and in a couple days roots appear and the top starts growing back. If you put them in a pot, they definitely look like the sort of plants you grow in your alien spaceship. I don't even like eating green onions that much, but I really like growing them. 

I don't know if it's the Directors Cut posts I have been doing the past couple of days or if people just happen to be bored and generous, but I've had a sudden spate of new comments on my older fanfics. This of course has me wandering around with hearts in my eyes, because it always feels intensely good to know that something you put out into the world is still making people happy. Even if somebody just tells me that they came back to reread my story again, that is a huge compliment in itself! There is so much fic out there, being considered good enough to read more than once is pretty great. 

The post-bedtime conversation with the kiddo was shorter than it has been this past couple nights, I think because he was feeling a little better, but also because he was tuckered out. He was having trouble articulating what was bothering him and finally just said he had a big question mark of confusion in his head. Me too, kiddo! I told him a lot of people were feeling like that, and that I hoped it would get better when things started to get more normal again. He asked when that would be, which is of course the million dollar question. I have a lot of extremely cynical feelings about the heedless push to reopen the economy and the harm it will probably do, but that's not what my fourth grader needs to hear. So we talked about why the quarantine started, and how it was never intended to last forever, but instead to buy us time to get ready for it. I explained that back in March, if a lot of people had gotten the virus all at once, it would've overwhelmed the medical system and a lot of people would've died who wouldn't have died if they'd gotten the disease at a different time. I explained that the quarantine gives us time to get better supplies and do a lot of research and learn more about testing, so that even though we cannot stop people from ever getting sick with coronavirus, fewer people will get very sick, and we will be able to take care of the ones who do. You know, ideally, if Hillary Clinton were president, or literally any competent human being. But that's not a worry that he should have to carry right now, so I'll give him the best hope that I have. His main concern is still whether he will be able to go back to school, and whether things are ever going to look normal again. And I really hope they will. 

[chicachicfashion-blog]

What Does Modest Fashion Really Look Like?

Pinterest UK tells me that searches for "modest style" are up 500% considering the start of this year. The worldwide modest style marketplace is already reportedly really well worth loads of billions and is about to scale up with the aid of using gargantuan proportions over the following 5 years. A professional on line save known as The Modist has simply launched—complete of certainly modest portions from an brilliant roll name of emblem names, and each form of lady is buying from the site, whether or not they discover as "modest" or now no longer.

When you step out of doors of this particular realm, it is simple to look that runways, cool manufacturers, and road fashion stars alike also are extraordinarily embracing huge shapes, covered-up silhouettes, and innovative layering. Modest style is everywhere. But what precisely is it? As a whole, this motion has been choosing up the tempo for nigh on a decade, however there is nevertheless a fogginess approximately what it manner to be a modest dresser, what it seems like, and the way it is affecting fashion-aware ladies proper now. Keep studying to find out extra.

So what does "modest style" honestly mean?

If there is one element all the ladies I spoke to agree on, it is this: There isn't anyt any one definition of what modest style manner, however it basically pertains to having a diploma of cognizance in terms of protecting up elements of your body. This chasm of statistics we can not categorize and pigeonhole contributes significantly to the mass marketplace's uncertainty of a way to talk with and deliver to ladies who need modest style. It also can make anybody who isn't always individually versed withinside the idea sense ill-ready to speak approximately it, however possibly confirming its ambiguity can assist to push the idea forward.

The fact is that everybody has their personal concept of what modest style manner to them.

"Modest style as a term, as a marketplace term, got here to occurrence withinside the mid-2000s, and this changed into partially due to the fact some of the manufacturers that first commenced up got here from designers and innovative marketers who have been themselves religiously motivated," says Reina Lewis, professor of cultural research at London College of Fashion, UAL. She defined to me that the net made it viable for savvy, underserved religio-ethnic people and companies to begin imparting each the goods and content material that they have been missing.

As Hana Tajima—the British-Japanese Muslim style fashion dressmaker who these days collaborated with Uniqlo on various modest-pleasant style—tells me, "The fact is that everybody has their personal concept of what modest style manner to them. And that runs along peoples' private alternatives of shadeation and fashion. It's one of these extensive concept that receives very slender inner the ones words."

So, in brief, modest style can describe various stages of protecting up on purpose. The selection may be because of religio-ethnic achievement or to gain a positive aesthetic and stage of ease as it isn't only a fashion this is tied to spirituality.

Why is the mainstream style enterprise speakme approximately it now?

First up, let's examine the number one stat that receives referenced time and again. According to the Global Islamic Economy Report, the Muslim style spend on my own withinside the UK is envisioned to reach $467 billion with the aid of using 2020. This is, in part, because of increasingly more millennial Muslim ladies—or Generation M—who've large quantities of disposable income, way to their new positions withinside the place of business in preference to the home.

Outside of records and figures, take a 2nd to reflect onconsideration on in which style is headed proper now: Social media has induced variety to come to be a mainstay—now no longer a gimmick—in the enterprise. It's additionally shone a mild on the (obvious) records that ladies of various shapes, faiths, colors, sizes, and backgrounds may be simply as elegant and may be similarly treasured customers.

The worldwide reaction on every occasion the modest style marketplace is addressed highlights simply how tons this faction desires to be spoken and catered to. When DKNY advertised a Ramadan series of present portions that have been appropriate for modest dressers in 2014, the click insurance changed into phenomenal. The equal is going for whilst H&M decided on Mariah Idrissi to function in a video in 2015. She have become the primary hijab-sporting version to function in one of the megalith's campaigns. She tells me her life "modified overnight. I changed into scouted in a shopping mall quickly after graduating college and [had been] making plans on running for myself in a innovative field, however I by no means predicted to be a version."

"That went viral inside minutes," Lewis says of the high-road campaign. "I assume the manufacturers worried have not found out the urge for food for this … how tons it'd get taken up. I assume Mariah were given extra traction and insurance than the alternative human beings worried in it, however the video changed into revolutionary in some of approaches in phrases of the way it offered social variety for style."

If I'm now no longer spiritual, can I be part of the movement?

Lewis explains that whilst the modest style marketplace is predominantly developing withinside the Abrahamic faiths (it truly is Judaism, Christianity, and Islam), consistent with census data, an increasing number of younger humans are figuring out as "spiritual, now no longer spiritual." With that during mind, it is pretty feasible that piety and modest dressing is a through-product, however yes, anybody can get dressed modestly—to any degree—in the event that they need to.

"I might make the factor that girls interpret necessities to get dressed modestly in lots of specific ways, and the manner they interpret it could extrade over their life. Within anyone spiritual denomination, there could be some of specific interpretations and practices," Lewis says.

"Interestingly there are a variety of non-Muslim girls who're interested in this aesthetic," Tajima says. "There appears to be an overlap of subcultures and girls redefining what femininity approach to them. It allows that the garments are inherently comfortable. Japan has been fairly receptive to my collaboration with Uniqlo. I suppose a variety of girls are not always conscious that the garments can be visible as 'modest style.' It's only a fashion that resonates with them."

Women interpret modest get dressed necessities in lots of specific ways, and the manner they interpret them can extrade over their life.

Is it a accident that the outsized silhouettes—just like the super-huge trousers or announcement sleeves—we are into are so widespread at the runways and in shops proper now? Fashion is usually a mirrored image of the cultural conversation, and nowadays there are extra alternatives than ever for dressing modestly. Lyst, the data-crunching style seek engine, has visible an boom in associated phrases such as "excessive neck" or "lengthy sleeve" growing through 40% and 52%, respectively, during the last six months. Meanwhile, the logo notes that even extra precise categories, such as "modest bikinis," are triumphing out over skimpier styles.

What's the largest false impression approximately modest style?

Once you placed apart the false impression that modest style is most effective tied to spiritual and religo-ethnic desires, among the professionals I tapped for data have been short to pressure that masking up would not need to equate to searching uninteresting or keeping off trends. Anum Bashir, a Dubai-primarily based totally influencer regarded for advocating modest style on her blog, Desert Mannequin, absolutely debunks the parable that modest style "cannot be on trend, or that designers do not layout for the modest dresser. … I love having a laugh with garments as of late: colors, prints, layers, etc. What I do not have a tendency to do is display an excessive amount of skin."

London is so multicultural and one of the style capitals of the world; the modest style scene right here is so colourful and alive.

Does Bashir's system sound acquainted to you? It's one which I share, but I've by no means purposefully sought out or aimed to take part withinside the modest style movement. The concept is some distance from restrictive, is of the same opinion Lisa Bridgett of The Modist, a newly released e-trade platform focusing on a luxurious amassing of the maximum modest-pleasant portions.

"Modest dressing is set choice, approximately fantastically styled portions that resonate with the wearer and offer an exceedingly style-ahead method to being in-season. At The Modist, we're loving the tremendous and enlightened responses to our style proposition that we've had from modest clothing for women , girls throughout faiths who put on garments to marry with their values. … In many ways, modest dressing presents extra possibilities for girls to get dressed stylishly."

Who have to you appearance to for modest fashion inspiration?

There's no person metropolis or platform that policies the modest style kingdom—and through now it is simple to look that is a lot extra than burqas and maxi dresses—however Idrissi explains that London is a quite satisfactory vicinity to start: "As London is so multicultural and one of the style capitals of the world, the scene right here is so colourful and alive. I sense we take style pretty seriously. However, I will say even though we've a few adventurous dressers, I sense a lot of us [modest dressers] have a tendency to get dressed as an alternative in addition however with our very own little cultural or non-public twist."

[rimalaw]

Why this Non-Trump Voter Thinks Trump Could Win 2020

I am a registered independent and both parties have ideals I agree with, and sadly those I don’t. Therefore, I am always left out and just looking for who will better support some of the more important values that I believe in. I did not vote for Trump, and because I need healthcare (among other things), I cannot support a man who wants to destroy the healthcare plan that I am on, without a real plan in place that will protect people with pre-existing conditions.  Trump says ObamaCare is a horrible program! But what the heck has he offered??? Nothing!  I can't take small talk to the doctor or hospital if and when you take away my health plan, and have to wait for small business enrollment in Florida (1x a year) to kick in and charge me tons of money to cover my pre-existing condition! 

When Bush was President, health insurance was costing me over $1,200/month, and now under the Affordable Care Act (a/k/a Obama Care which is really why Trump hates it... it doesn’t have his NAME!!), I am paying approximately $600.00 a month for a really good plan. Make no mistake, by now my plan would cost AT LEAST $1400.00-$1500.00, since I am 16-20 years older than when Bush was President.  Let me not forget how Obamacare saved the life of my best friend, who would otherwise NOT have gone to the doctor, and not have discovered a life threatening illness, which but for the Grace of God, she did. Because of her health plan, she received the best care and treatment, and thank God survived one of the worst diagnosis one could get.   She got the plan two (2) weeks before she went to the doctor!  This is what Trump wants to take away! Trump wants to take away lifesaving care without a REAL PLAN in place to help millions of Americans.

And make no mistake; sadly, I think people who are on that plan, who rely on this plan, who have family or friends who need that plan, etc. etc. will still NAIVELY and IGNORANTLY vote for Trump. 

Why do I think that enough people would vote for Trump and that he can win?  Well... Let’s think about it:

1-He is campaigning like a high energy Super Bowl Team in all the swing states, bringing with him his own type of electrifying energy, electrifying his base, and those who are still on the fence and can feel some of that electricity as the attendees and media blare their excitement of his visit.  Make no mistake, these visits matter.  When I ran for Judge 14 years ago, I was an unknown an the youngest in my race.  I didn’t have the type of ethnic or Anglo name needed to win in my County.  However, every area that I was able to heavily campaign in, make speeches, meet people, I WON. I didn’t win that election, but I won those areas.  So I realized that meeting people matters, and in this race, make no mistake, these super spreader events excite people.  They don’t care about COVID while they are there, and for the most part have learned to live with it.  They just care that the biggest Super Bowl team came to their town and made them feel GOOD!  I know Biden has toured, but I’m sorry it doesn’t come close. I know he was doing social distancing etc, but the car thing isn’t exciting nor generating the amount of crowds and energy that it needs. 

2-COVID- yes believe it or not, without COVID, Trump might have been up in the polls without issue.  Then COVID happened which threw him down in the polls, and then his apparent lack of handling it, threw him even further down.  Then he got COVID, and believe it or not, even though he didn’t seize the opportunity to come out more contrite, which would have assured him a win, he still earned a lot of points. How: A) because America saw him as human and actually felt scared for their President (even some of the ones that didn’t vote for him); B) America got to see that he BEAT IT!  Yes, he has the best doctors and treatment etc, but America saw that this 74 year old overweight man, who got sick enough to need treatment, still BEAT IT!  So now America sees COVID (foolishly or not) not to be so feared, which deep down everyone wants to believe. These two results of Trump getting COVID actually earned him voters as people felt scared for him and then happy at his beating COVID, signaling the Country and they could too could slay this dragon; and finally C) people are seeing the country economically recover and attributing this to his lack of fear of COVID, and the desire to keep the country out of lockdown which most Americans are fed up with.  

3-Fracking- For the love of God Joe, you don’t denounce fracking like that when you need the swing states in the way that you do.  Instead you CONFIDENTLY say, “don’t worry, our plan is to slowly bring in safe alternate sources of energy while we freely train current workers and so many more (as we will have so many jobs created) to transition into great and even BETTER paying safer jobs. NO ONE WILL LOSE ONE JOB, and I can guarantee even BETTER Jobs for you all.”  But instead, you have Trump in Pennsylvania, and other swing states scaring people that they will lose their jobs.

4-Law and Order-Make no mistake, I believe the police have systemic racism and needs serious training and overhauling.  But Biden and Democrats need to COMPLETELY distance themselves from the anarchist propaganda of defunding the police. That was NEVER a train to ride.  From the first use of those words, BIDEN should have never bitten, not even a nibble. Now with the visual of businesses boarding up, Trump is touting about these rioters and giving the illusion to those voters less capable to comprehend the difference, that this is what the Democrats, i.e. Joe are doing and allowing. From the get go, Dems and Joe should have aggressively, I mean hot tooting crazy like attacked and distances themselves from it. 

5-COVID AGAIN-I wear masks (2), I barely go out, etc, but like most Americans, we are tired of hearing about COVID.  When that is all that you hear, gloom and doom, and Biden talks about dark days, it just doesn’t sit so well.  Strangely enough, to people on the fence now, Trump seems like the guy that wants to give you freedom and a cheery positive outlook of life, while the Democrats, CNN, MSNBC, etc., are painting this bleak picture and more lockdowns, that no one wants to keep hearing about. 

6-The Darn Polls- So many polls tooting a Biden victory whether true or not, are only making on the fence people, the lazy, the unmotivated, the unenergized Democratic voters say, “they don’t need me, ... I’m not so excited.. or Biden will win anyway.” Meanwhile, the Trump supporters are freaking out and making sure they show up in massive droves to help their Super Bowl Team, I mean their guy. Plus, any poll should really discount a lot of points away from Biden, because really, there are a lot of paranoid secretive, conspiracy believing, or seemingly ashamed Trump voters who will not participate.  Remember, a bleeding hard liberal is more likely to be kind to a pollster and answer a poll; and a right winger will say, “I have nothing to say, leave me alone,” hang up, etc...

7-Socialism-Kill this socialism crap- The Dems should have killed this idea long ago, and Biden should have been VERY ASSERTIVE and vocal about how he is for middle of the road values (yes I know this might alienate the Bernie people, but that’s what Bernie is for. And if this party is so crazy to sit out and let Trump win because Biden isn’t left enough, well then the party has bigger issues which no amount of therapy can fix). 

8-The last Debate- Trump basically showed people he is not so crazy, he can have restraint, he wasn’t rude. People who were running away from him after the first debate or on the fence, came back after he showed America and the world that he isn’t so bad. 

9-Strength and POWER- Basically, aside from the fact that Trump often appears to be a bully, lately, more than anything he has shown stamina and strength.  People like that, and want to join the stronger looking team, and the man that never ever seems to stop, and confidently never takes NO for an answer. People, like to support the one that appears to never back down, never accept defeat, never look weak, and never quit!

10-Too many people believe his lies, those of the crazies on Facebook, and the alt right that disseminate the worst of the fake news. Sadly THE DEMS DON'T STRONGLY and DEFINITIVELY ATTACK THEM!! Every talking point should have been hit with a barrage of targeted commercials and aggressive stump speeches. People need to be told for example, “TRUMP brags about the economy, he hopes you have amnesia and forget that OBAMA left him with a booming economy, and only an untrained monkey could ruin it.  All Trump did was NOT destroy it YET, but his tax cuts to the MILLIONAIRES (not you AMERICA making under 400k) will cause us a depression if he is in office four more years because you can only pay so much to help the country without having income we used to rely on coming in.” 

Well, that’s all folks. I hope I am wrong, but if it doesn’t go as the untrustworthy polls show, these are some of the main reasons why. These points are for that small percentage that pick the winner in most Presidential elections, not for the firmly committed of either party. Also, if Biden doesn’t win, then those who protested this summer did not all come out to vote, and that’s shameful! 

[unfortunately-lovestruck]

Havenfall finest in Roaring 20's? Pleeeease?

YES. ABSOLUTELY.

I’ve actually headcanoned this before in my head but I’d completely forgotten about it lmao. But without further ado, here’s HIFL in the Roaring 20’s.

Mackenzie

poor lady, her job is never done

bootlegging is a huge ass problem, and no matter how many sellers/smugglers she catches, it feels as though 3 more pop up after them like a hydra

she isn’t the happiest with Prohibition (after all she does enjoy a healthy bit of alcohol from time to time) but she respects and enforces the law nonetheless

on the bright side though, she’s beaming when she goes into a voting booth for the first time and actually feels like her voice is heard after women finally get suffrage in the US

she’s still waiting for LGBTQ+ people to be protected under the law though, so she isn’t exactly thrilled about that

though comic books don’t really reach their peak until the 40’s-50’s, Mac is proud to say she adored them way before they became huge

loves jazz music, because who can’t? it’s so much fun to listen to (and I swear if any of you make bee movie jokes in the comments I’ll manifest in your houses and kill you myself)

Diego

still a doctor of course

a looooot of alcohol poisoning in his patients

doesn’t like that people don’t respect the law but he ain’t snitching

he can’t snitch anyway, since patient files are private, hippocratic oath and whatnot

honestly, sometimes he felt like the entire decade just wasn’t real

the entire world was scarred from WW1 and the excess opulence and alcohol was more like a universal coping mechanism than anything

but then again, he can’t say he was perfect

since Razi had a bar in a speakeasy (more on that later) Diego still supported him, and even visited sometimes just for the music and atmosphere

but even then, he kept to himself and only really talked to Razi and JD

at least then he didn’t have to worry about people commenting on his red eyes, since they were all too drunk to look too long

Razi

yes, he ran an illegal speakeasy

but was it to be a menace to society or to blatantly disrespect the law? no

he knew Prohibition would only be temporary

in fact, he made multiple bets with other people for how long it would last

he probably won and JD still owes him like $5 (prices were lower back then so they let the money depreciate)

the point is, he knew America wouldn’t commit to this ban for long

he also disagreed with the notion that everyone had to be permanently policed and babied like rowdy teenagers

so he ran a speakeasy, but it was probably one of the safest ones in the country

if anyone got too rough or violent, it was getting shut down, and it was getting shut down quick

trust me, not a lot of people will question a disapproving 6’2 man much

yet despite all this, he was still friends with Mac

he didn’t tell her until after Prohibition though

she knew, she wasn’t dumb

JD

no one did the Charleston like they did, and that is a fact

let’s be honest, they loved speakeasies because it was basically just “hey the law? yeah fuck that” time

after 140 years of society being so morally uptight and strict, the 20’s were the biggest relief they had ever experienced

they could finally wear and say what they want and dance the night away and no one (they cared about) would call them an embarassment or disgrace

they felt light and free, and even with all the underlying problems and unsustainable economy, they just didn’t want it to end

but oh man, they never found sheer anarchy and fun like that until the 70’s punk movement 50 years later, and they still miss it

Vanessa

sadly, she doesn’t get much fun out of life no matter what decade you put her in

vampires are an eternal problem (to her and the Order at least) so there is no lax point in time

also, being a lesbian in the 1920’s was not a good time

but she does get some fun out of TV

it didn’t become popular until the 30’s, but since the Order is funding her and giving her high tech things, a TV isn’t unreasonable for her to have back in the 20’s

she really doesn’t like speakeasies and drinking though

the 20’s were basically a golden era for vampires since so many people just didn’t remember getting bitten the morning after from all the liquor

so if anything, when she found a speakeasy, it was basically a gold mine of vampires

she’d walk in and at least a good fifth of the people were undead

almost went after Diego, but Razi stopped her

since he didn’t drink from live humans and he was a doctor, she lets it slide

basically both Mac and Vanessa just had their hands full the entire decade

Antonio

oh boy

oh boy

y’all know Jay Gatsby, right?

basically think of him, but on crack

not literal crack, but just Gatsby 2.0

bootlegging and owning speakeasies made him disgustingly rich

the 20’s were his prime decade, and nothing came close to it

it had opulence equivalent to 1700’s France without the social etiquette and customs, and also hedonism that he (like JD) never got to experience so openly before

I mean tuxedos, cars, radio, the general aesthetic?? the man was living

imagine growing up in medieval times where sneezing wrong could get you in trouble with the church and finally getting to feel free after 420 years (and yes that number is mathematically correct this literally couldn’t get better)

of course it wasn’t perfect, since he has canonically mentioned being with other men just wasn’t accepted

but if anything, the mentality of “fuck it, we’re living” just assured him that someday, he would be able to be open about his sexuality, and so would everyone else

Bonus! MC

her circumstances are the same

she and Grace are orphaned, and she gives up her dreams so her sister can have a better life

but every weekend, she needs an outlet to relax and let loose

so of course, she finds the speakeasy Razi runs and begs to work there since she needs money for Grace

he lets her work there out of pure understanding and kindness (bless him) just like he did with JD

they actually both do work most of the week

but when Friday hits? shit gets wild

MC would always actually serve people drinks and work the first half of the night, but eventually, Razi would always take over and tell her and JD to go have fun

he knows neither of them are living under the best circumstances, and besides, he doesn’t have anything more urgent to do

so, MC and JD are always competing over who can do the Charleston the best (just like with arcade games in modern times)

JD always wins, but MC is seriously a close second

they dance the night away, and drag Diego into it occasionally (with Razi’s subtle support)

he’s definitely not bad at dancing at all, and occasionally, they can get him to actually smile and even laugh a little bit

as for Mac, MC knows her because she always patrols her neighborhood

though she feels a bit guilty when she talks to her with all the speakeasy business and all, she’s thankful Mac keeps the neighborhood safe for her and especially Grace

she meets Vanessa the night she tries to kill Diego

she, Razi, and JD all form a barricade around the doctor, and don’t let her even come close to him

they convince her to leave him alone, though Razi does most of the talking, and Vanessa eventually does concede

but damn, MC can’t help but think she was hella cute

I mean she feels that way about everyone in Havenfall’s Finest, so nothing’s new there

but one night a guy with slicked back brown hair and red eyes like Diego walks in and oh wow look at that Diego’s shadow warped off into the void that’s weird

he keeps glancing at her throughout the night, you know, in that weird “you have the blood to resurrect my dead sibling but damn you’re hot” kind of way

Razi is offput by him, because he feels like he’s that guy Diego told him about who abandonned him 4 centuries ago

but he has no proof, so Antonio continues to do what he likes in the speakeasy (really he was checking to see what other speakeasies had so he could implement them in his own to make more money)

so in the end, MC’s got 6 possible LI’s around her nonetheless :’)

[heroesmusings]

FULL NAME: Wanda Django Maximoff

MEANING: wanderer

NICKNAME: Little Witch

MEANING: Bucky usually calls her little witch in Russian 

AGE APPEARANCE: Appears and is 28

BIRTHDAY: April 16th, 1992

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aries

SPECIES: Enhanced Human

GENDER: Cis female

ALLERGIES: None

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Demisexual

THEME SONG(S): Nightmare by Halsey, Ship to Wreck by Florence and the Machine, Like Real People Do by Hozier, A Place in this World by Taylor Swift

APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOR:  Dark Brown

HAIR STYLE AND LENGTH: Nearly mid back, almost always down and is fairly straight

EYES COLOR: Brown when not using powers, red when using powers

EYESIGHT: 20/20, the stone perfected her eyesight

HEIGHT: 5″7′

WEIGHT: 120 lbs

OUTFIT/CLOTHING STYLE: For missions she wears tight fitting black pants, red corset and a red overcoat, but off mission she's usually just wearing black jeans and a big zipper hoodie and whoevers shirt she found

ABNORMALITIES: None. 

DISTINGUISHING MARKS(SCARS,MOLES): She's got scars on her upper arms from Hydra and a tattoo on her ribcage for Pietro

SELF CARE(MAKE UP): Wanda loves a heavy eyeliner look almost anywhere

FIRST IMPRESSION ON PEOPLE: SHY. She's not very forward, tends to keep to herself 

SKIN COLOR: White

BODY TYPE/BUILD: A thin leaner build

DEFAULT EXPRESSION: Usually avoids eye contact so a bit of a demure unsure expression 

POSTURE: Wanda has a hunched posture, she's constantly trying to make herself seem smaller 

PIERCINGS: three piercings on her lobe, two cartledge on her left ear, septum, belly button and right breast nipple

DESCRIBE THEIR VOICE: Wanda's voice can be a bit on the montone side, especially when she's uninterested in something, and she has a Russian accent 

RELATIONS:

MOM: Maya Maximoff

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Before she died, Maya and Wanda got along really well, she misses her mother constantly

DAD: Django Maximoff

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Before he died, Wanda adored her father was always excited when he returned home

SIBLINGS: Pietro Maximoff

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Pietro was her ride or die -- they were connected at the hip and you never saw one without the other, very protective of one another before he died 

CHILDREN: N/A

HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: N/A

OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS: N/A

PAST LOVER(S): Unknown

CURRENT LOVER: Carol Danvers

REACTION TO MEETING SOMEONE NEW: Wanda usually is distant, seemingly uneasy because she's constantly worried everyone is scared of her. So she keeps her distant and only interacts when she's required 

ABILITY TO WORK WITH OTHERS: shockingly Wanda works really well with others she's just usually not all that talkative

HOW SOCIABLE(LONER,ETC): LONER LONER LONER

FRIENDS: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton and the rest of the avengers

PETS: None

LEAST FAVORITE TYPE OF PERSON: Anyone who mistakes her shyness for powerlessness 

PARENTAL TYPE(PROTECTIVE,ETC): Protective and Loving 

FAVORITE PEOPLE: Carol, Steve, Bucky, and Clint

LEAST FAVORITE PEOPLE: Anyone who thinks she's a monster, Hydra, 

PERSONALITY:

..WHEN YOU FIRST MEET THEM: ? Shy, Quiet, Uneasy

..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY LIKE YOU): Playful, Joking, Protective

..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY DISLIKE YOU): Sassy, Cold, Impatient

FAVORITE COLOR: Red and Black

FAVORITE FOOD: Spaghetti with her mother's special sauce

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Grizzly bear

FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: Violin

FAVORITE ELEMENT: Air

LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: Yellow

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Fried Chicken 

LEAST FAVORITE ANIMAL: Alligators

LEAST FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: Trumpet

LEAST FAVORITE ELEMENT: Water

HOBBIES: Cooking, reading, gardening 

USUAL MOOD: While it looks like she is unhappy all the time, she's usually in a decent mood

DRINK/SMOKE/DRUGS: Drinks socially 

DARK VERSION OF SELF: Cruel, wicked, killer

LIGHT VERSION OF SELF: Smiley, Uninhibited, Gentle

HOW SERIOUS ARE THEY: Wanda is pretty serious a lot of the times but around her close friends she's not  

BELIEVE IN GHOSTS: Yes absolutely, she knows not to disrespect the dead. 

(IN)DEPENDANT: Fairly dependent honestly 

SOFT SPOT/VULNERABILITY: Referring to her as dangerous, Talking about Hydra or the Experiments, Talking about her Family  

OPINION ON SWEARING: She doesn't mind swearing, she swears often

DAREDEVIL VS CAUTIOUS: more so in the cautious side she has to be

MUSIC TYPE: She likes classical music, also she can get behind some good rock 

MOVIE TYPE: Any type! She does like a good horror but she's also got a soft spot for rom-coms

BOOK TYPE: Again she likes a good horror but she's also find of fantasy 

GAME TYPE: She likes any type of board games really but operation is a classic 

COMFORTABLE TEMPERATURE: Wanda runs pretty warm so she prefers things to be cooler 

SLEEPING PATTERN: Wanda usually starts the night on her side of the bed, curled up in a somewhat fetal position then stretches out throughout the night and ends up closer to the middle. She has frequent nightmares  

CLEANLINESS/NEATNESS: Wanda doesn't mind a little bit of mess but she does prefer clean

DESIRED PET: KITTIES 

HOW DO THEY PASS TIME: Talking to her little succulents on the windowsills and hanging out with her friends

BIGGEST SECRET: she's actually pretty afraid of any and all explosives, even fireworks freak her out 

HERO/WHO THEY LOOK UP TO: Her mother, Maya

WHAT ANIMAL WOULD THEY BE: she'd definitely be a fox

FEARS: Accidentally harming innocent people, the death of her friends 

COMFORTS: Quiet rooms, Carol holding her hand, Homemade food

HOW DO THEY ACT WHEN THEY ARE:

SAD: Wanda shuts down, she doesn't want speak or to eat or to do anything, she really lets it consume her 

HAPPY: Happy Wanda is a private Wanda, only few get to see it. Though it's a Wanda who laughs and smiles and hides her face shyly in into her jacket

ANGRY: You do NOT want an angry Wanda. She's vengeful, she's unforgiving and especially if you hurt someone she loves? She won't hesitate to take you down

AFRAID: She tends to fear herself when she's afraid, worries her powers are going to go haywire, so she tries to seclude herself as best she can

LOVE SOMEONE: Wanda is cautious with love, she's lost everyone she loves so far so she's afraid it might happen again but when she finally lets herself love, she's fierce about it, she adores and protects 

HATE SOMEONE: WANDA AVOIDS she doesn't want any confrontation 

WANT SOMETHING: It depends, if its someone she is pining over she won't but other than that she tends to go for what she wants 

CONFUSED: Wanda doesn't love to be confused, so she'll work on figuring it out 

HOW DO THEY REACT TO:

DANGER: Wanda usually faces danger head on, she'll take it in stride and protect the ones she loves from danger before herself  

SOMEONE THEY HATE WHO HAS A CRUSH ON THEM: good more avoiding for Wanda 

PROPOSAL TO MARRY: SHE'D BE SHOCKED. She truly wouldn't know what to say at first, she'd be so stunned but of course would say yes  

DEATH OF LOVED ONE: it's soul crushing, she loses control of herself and everything and she wants nothing but revenge 

DIFFICULT GAME/MATH/ETC: She'd spend time trying to figure it out but give up eventually

INJURY: Wanda doesn't really get too hurt anymore, it's pretty easy to protect herself but if it's someone else? She'd be a little overbearing to make sure they're okay 

SOMETHING IRRESISTABLY CUTE: Wanda would laugh about it I'm sure 

LOSS OF HOURS OF WORK: She'd do a little gardening 

KNOWLEDGE:

LANGUAGES: Russian, English

SCHOOLING LEVEL: High School

FAVORITE SUBJECT (S): History and Home Economics

INTERESTED CAREERS: N/A.

EXPERTISE: Reality warping, probability manipulation, flight, telepathy, mental manipulation, energy projection and manipulation 

PUZZLES: she tends to enjoy puzzled 

CHEMISTRY: Neither science nor people chemistry interest her

MATH: Nothing special

ENGLISH: She speaks the language well enough

GEOGRAPHY: Not very good at geography

POLITICS/LAW: Wanda has very strong views on politics  and laws in her home country she went to countless protests 

ECONOMY/ACCOUNTING: Again a lot of feelings and protests over the economy

COOKING: Wanda really enjoys cooking it was something her mother passed down to her and it's very important to her. She's a damn good cook too 

SEWING: Shes alright at mending clothing  

MECHANICS: Nope 

BOTANY (FLOWERS): Wanda likes a lot of basic gardening things 

MYTHOLOGY: Not too much

DRAMATICS(ACTING,SINGING): Wanda doesn't really have an interest in any of that 

READING LEVEL: In Russian she's proficient but English she can struggle 

HOW GOOD ARE THEY AT PLANNING AHEAD: Wanda isn't all that great at planning ahead she's much more driven by emotion so whatever happens, happens

ROMANCE:

DO THEY TAKE INITIATIVE: At first? NO, she was a little timid but now she takes the initiative a LOT 

HOW DO THEY ACT(SHY,ETC): Shes shy to start but ends up getting pretty damn confident

GENTLEMAN/LADYLIKE VS KLUTZY: a lady thank you, she's an expert with her fingers

GO SLOW VS JUMP INTO: Again at first go slow, Wanda is baby

PROTECTIVE: yes yes for SURE

ACT LIKE FRIENDS OR LOVERS: boTH

WHAT KIND OF PRESENTS DO THEY BUY: once she gets confident she'll start buying toys :) 

TYPE OF KISSER: Wanda is a bit of a frantic kisser, like she can't get enough, she likes it a little handsy and electric

DO THEY WANT KIDS: ..not really? 

DO THEY WANT TO MARRY: YES

MAKE GOOD OR BAD DECISIONS: Both, she's driven by emotion

ARE THEY ROMANTIC: she can be

HOW ARE THEY IN BED: Using her fingers is her day job so… pretty good

GET JEALOUS EASY: not really? She could squash anyone who poses an issue 

WIFE/HUBBY BEATER: NEVER

MARRY FOR MONEY: LMAO NO 

FAVORITE POSITION: Wanda likes being draped over Carol, so the two can care lazy kisses with one another and she also likes being between her thighs 

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN ON THEIR DREAM DATE: having dinner and dessert on a different planet, it's the bEST

OPINION ON SEX: Wanda only ever feels sexual attraction once she's developed a relationship with someone, so before that she's fairly disinterested but once she's involved she enjoys sex

[berniesrevolution]

In the early summer of 2017, a little less than a year after his Presidential campaign had ended, Bernie Sanders spent a few days on a speaking tour in England, to promote the European version of his book “Our Revolution.” The Brexit resolution had passed twelve months earlier, a general election looked likely to consolidate the conservative hold on the country, and Sanders’s audiences—in the hundreds, though not the thousands—were anxious and alert. I was at those events, talking with the people who had come—skinny, older leftists and louche, cynical younger ones—and they were anticipating not just the old campaign hits but a broader explanation of why the world had suddenly gone so crazy and what could be done. Sanders had scarcely talked about foreign affairs in his 2016 campaign, but his framework had a natural extensibility. Under way in the world was a simple fight, Sanders said. On one side were oligarchs and the right-wing parties they had managed to corrupt. On the other were the people.

In the thirty months since Sanders’s 2016 campaign ended, in the petulance and ideological strife of the Democratic National Convention, he has become a more reliable partisan, just as progressivism has moved his way. He begins the 2020 Presidential campaign not as a gadfly but as a favorite, which requires a comprehensive vision among voters of how he would lead the free world. In 2017, Sanders hired his first Senate foreign-policy adviser, a progressive think-tank veteran named Matt Duss. Sanders gave major speeches—at Westminster College, in the United Kingdom, and at Johns Hopkins—warning that “what we are seeing is the rise of a new authoritarian axis” and urging liberals not just to defend the post-Cold War status quo but also to “reconceptualize a global order based on human solidarity.” In 2016, he had asked voters to imagine how the principles of democratic socialism could transform the Democratic Party. Now he was suggesting that they could also transform how America aligns itself in the world.

In early April, I met with Sanders at his Senate offices, in Washington. Spring was already in effect—the cherry blossoms along the tidal basin were still in bloom but had begun to crinkle and fade—and talk among the young staffers milling around his offices was of the intensity of Sanders’s early campaign, of who would be travelling how many days over the next month and who would have to miss Easter. It was my first encounter with Sanders during this campaign. Basic impression: same guy. He shook my hand with a grimace, and interrupted my first question when he recognized the possibility for a riff, on the significance of a Senate vote on Yemen. His essential view of foreign policy seemed to be that the American people did not really understand how dark and cynical it has been—“how many governments we have overthrown,” as Sanders told me. “How many people in the United States understand that we overthrew a democratically elected government in Iran to put in the Shah? Which then led to the Revolution. How many people in this country do you think know that? So we’re going to have to do a little bit of educating on that.”

One condition that Americans had not digested was the bottomlessness of inequality. “I got the latest numbers here,” Sanders said. He motioned, and Duss, who was sitting beside him, slid a sheet of paper across the table. “Twenty-six (Continue Reading)of the wealthiest people on earth own more wealth than the bottom half of the world’s population. Did you know that? So you look at it, you say”—here he motioned as if each of his hands were one side of a scale—“twenty-six people, 3.6 billion people. How grotesque is that?”

He went on, “When I talk about income inequality and talk about right-wing authoritarianism, you can’t separate the two.” No one knew how rich Putin was, Sanders said, but some people said he was the wealthiest man in the world. The repressive Saudi monarchs were also billionaire Silicon Valley investors, and “their brothers in the Emirates” have “enormous influence not only in that region but in the world, with their control over oil. A billionaire President here in the United States. You’re talking about the power of Wall Street and multinational corporations.�� Simple, really: his thesis had always been that money corrupted politics, and now he was tracing the money back overseas. His phlegmy baritone acquired a sarcastic lilt. “It’s a global economy, Ben, in case you didn’t know that!”

When Sanders’s aides sent me a list of a half-dozen foreign-policy experts, assembled by Duss, who talk regularly with the senator about foreign policy, I was surprised by how mainstream they seemed. Joe Cirincione, the antinuclear advocate, might have featured in a Sanders Presidential campaign ten or twenty years ago. But Sanders is also being advised by Robert Malley, who coördinated Middle East policy in Obama’s National Security Council and is now the president of the International Crisis Group; Suzanne DiMaggio, a specialist in negotiations with adversaries at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace; and Vali Nasr, the dean of the Paul H. Nitze School of Advanced Studies at Johns Hopkins and a specialist in the Shia-Sunni divide.

Few of these advisers were part of Sanders’s notionally isolationist 2016 campaign. But, as emergencies in Libya, Syria, and Yemen have deepened, the reputation of Obama’s foreign policy, and of the foreign-policy establishment more broadly, has diminished. Malley told me, “Out of frustration with some aspects of Obama’s foreign policy and anger with most aspects of Trump’s, many leaders in the Party have concluded that the challenge was not to build bridges between centrist Democrats and centrist Republicans but, rather, between centrist and progressive Democrats. That means breaking away from the so-called Blob”—a term for the foreign-policy establishment, from the Obama adviser Ben Rhodes. DiMaggio said, “The case for restraint seems to be gaining ground, particularly in its rejection of preventive wars and efforts to change the regimes of countries that do not directly threaten the United States.” She and others now see in Sanders something that they didn’t in 2016: a clear progressive theory of what the U.S. is after in the world. “I think he’s bringing those views on the importance of tackling economic inequality into foreign policy,” DiMaggio said.

Since the 2016 campaign, Sanders’s major foreign-policy initiative has been a Senate resolution invoking the War Powers Act of 1973 in order to suspend the Trump Administration’s support of Saudi Arabia’s military campaign in Yemen. Mike Lee, a libertarian Republican from Utah, and Chris Murphy, a Democrat from Connecticut, co-sponsored the resolution; on April 4th, it passed in the House and the Senate. It was the first time that Congress invoked the War Powers Act since the law’s creation, in the aftermath of the Vietnam War. When we met, Sanders said that he thought the Republican support for the resolution was significant, in part because it reflected the strain of conservatism that is skeptical of military interventions. It also demonstrated, he believed, “a significant mind-set change in the Congress—Democrats and Republicans—with regard to Saudi Arabia.” He added, “I don’t see why we’d be following the lead or seen as a very, very close ally of a despotic, un-democratic regime.”

Sanders was warming to a broader theme. Our position in the regional conflict between Saudi Arabia and Iran should be rebalanced, he said. There has been, he went on, “a bipartisan assumption that we’re supposed to love Saudi Arabia and hate Iran. And yet, if you look at young people in Iran, they are probably a lot more pro-American than Saudis. Iran is a very flawed society, no debate about it. Involved in terrorism, doing a lot of bad things. But they also have more democracy, as a matter of fact, more women’s rights, than does Saudi Arabia.” As President, Sanders said, he imagined the U.S. taking a more neutral role in the countries’ rivalry. “To say, you know what? We’re not going to be spending trillions of dollars and losing American lives because of your long-standing hostilities.”

Sanders turned to the conflict between Israel and Palestine, which he described in similar terms; he wanted to orient American policy toward the decent people on both sides, and not to their two awful governments. “While I am very critical of Netanyahu’s right-wing government, I am not impressed by what I am seeing from Palestinian leadership, as well,” he said. “It’s corrupt in many cases, and certainly not effective.” He mentioned the United States’s leverage in Israeli politics, because of its alliance and economic support. (“$3.8 billion is a lot of money!”) I asked if he would make that aid contingent, as some Palestinian advocates have suggested, on fuller political rights for Palestinians. Sanders grew more cautious here. “I’m not going to get into the specifics,” he said. He was worried about the situation in Gaza, where youth unemployment is greater than sixty per cent, and yet the borders are closed. (“If you have sixty per cent of the kids who don’t have jobs, and they can’t leave the country, what do you think is going to happen next year and the year after that?”) But he also said that he wanted to “pick up from where Jimmy Carter was, what Clinton tried to do, and, with the financial resources that we have of helping or withdrawing support, say, ‘You know what? Let’s sit down and do our best to figure it out.’ ” He seemed to want to strike an earnest, non-revolutionary note. “I’m not proposing anything particularly radical,” he said. “And that is that the United States should have an even-handed approach both to Israel and the Palestinians.”

(Continue Reading)

[zenosanalytic]

HSE 4/20/19 5

On to Rose and Dirk. Phew: Where To Start?

MEAT 7:

ok: I really like how it is basically impossible to tell from this convo whether Rose and Dirk care for or despise one another, and how it’s writing and (apparent)outcome basically declares that question irrelevant(and vaguely insulting in its suggesting that it would be anything other than irrelevant). Which... I feel like will end up being Highly Ironic given Dirk’s(apparent) anti-troll alignment and how expertly that sentiment slots into Blackrom territory(auspisticism in particular, given the “supportive” nature of the convo).

Other than that:

Dirk is absolutely wrong and totally going to fuck things up horribly

Dirk needs to spend less time being smug about his Heart Aspect and more time being Concerned about his Prince Class. He’s a Wrecker, not a Machinist. Hell, “Wrecking Ball” is probably more accurate as he can’t really help himself, or easily understand what he’s doing is destructive except in hindsight.

Rose needs to recognize that Seeing everything isn’t the same as Knowing, let alone Understanding, any of it, and that her personal traits and context can interfere with successfully Comprehending what she Sees, or acting on it appropriately. As in: over-valuing family, desperate for relief from pain, and no stranger to self-doubt she is --without questioning anything(and being a Seer is all about asking the right questions)-- 1)trusting that Dirk knows more than she, a Seer, does, 2)isn’t misunderstanding it 3) is going through something like what she is, 4)is handling it better than her, and 5)can fix or relieve what she’s going through and that 6)he lacks any motivations or ambitions which might confuse his understanding or give him reason to want to muck with Rose’s abilities&godhood, something which could have really terribly bad consequences.

MEAT 8:

The callback to John’s tendency to gawp vacantly at confusing things is Appreciated uwu

I didn’t realize Cherubs could laugh and talk at the same time; that’s pretty cool owo I wonder if they could, like, talk with two voices at once? Or add an Ominous Echoing Undertone to their pronouncements.

The Caliborn dialogue felt a bit off, though. My first thought is that the vocab might be too highfaluten, but it’s been awhile since I read any caliborn so I’d need to go back and check

MEAT 9:

I like this description of events, it is both Evocative and Economical, and that’s all I have to say on the matter u_u

MEAT 10:

Night President is NOT a foolish idea, it’s the BEST idea, and shame on all of you for not thinking of it before |:(

I mean: thinking purely of the logistical benefits: No working nights for humans, no working days for Trolls; a truly 24 hour civ, staffed fresh-face and well-rested whenever you need to do anything; the ppl setting and managing nocturnal or diurnal policy are the one’s who understand the unique requirements and impacts of those lifestyles; effectively doubles the size of the economy in a stroke(though recognizing that, in a post-scarcity world, the economy is kind of inherently not a serious thing ppl need to worry about); and that’s just re: trolls and humans!

Ok, so I Wrote a Whole Big Thing ages about about Jake, touching on his intellectual abilities, and arguing that, like John, while he may want to appear to be dim he’s anything but. As such, I not only disagree with Jane’s assessment here but kinda find it a bit infuriating? Of course it’s supposed to be because she’s supposed to be wrong because she’s the bad guy.

I can’t say I like Jane being written as a badguy cuz I dont. I can see how she could go that way and thus don’t think it’s entirely out of character, but there was more to her than ambition and I can’t see her abandoning her morality to such an extent as this instrumentalist, “I’ll sleep with Jake to control him”, approach implies. Also I dont really see, at this point, how that tracks with her decision to “not be too nice” to Jake cuz he’s a bit masochistic? There’s a contradiction in her chosen approach and how this convo plays out that it leaves unresolved. Also this vers seems to totally ignore her genderqueerness/comfort with masculinity, aside from the misogynistic way she attributes traits and desires she dislikes to her femininity.

So is this a satisfying example of Jane being written as a villain, imv? I can’t say yet.

Ok; gonna wrap it up for now.

[spectraspecs-writes]

Taris - Chapter 13 (Carth)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 12. Chapter 14.

Knowing that Gadon Thek is a nice kind of guy, I think taking a few minutes to chill out in the Hidden Bek base isn’t a terrible idea. They have a pretty nice mess and were kind enough to give Carth and myself a small smackerel to eat. Seeing as how we’re now working for Gadon and all that. And to me, this seems like the perfect time to talk to Carth some more. “Hey, Carth,” I say to him.

He swallows the water in his mouth and says, “Yes, what’s on your mind?”

“I want to discuss something with you.”

“You do?” He shrugs a little. “Fair enough. What do you want to discuss?”

“We didn't exactly finish our conversation yesterday.”

He sighs a bit, like “oh, that’s what she wants to talk about.” “I knew you wouldn't understand where I was coming from,” he says, “Let me try to explain. You've got the skills of an elite commando, and you've saved my butt more than once.” Hell yeah, I have, and don’t forget it. “Between that and your facility with languages, I'm lucky you're here. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop watching you or being wary. I'm just not built that way. Period.” Dude, that sounds a bit harsh.

“Why are you so hostile?” I ask him, “What, pray tell, did I do to deserve this?”

“You, uh… haven't done anything.” Exactly, that’s what I’m saying. “Yet.” Dude, what a cop-out. “But there's no guarantee that you won't do anything in the future.”

“So you want a guarantee? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“I've been betrayed before by people and I… well, it won't happen again. I don't know that you'll betray me. But there are no guarantees… not for you, not for me. You don't have to take it personally.”

Okay, now I’m pissed. “Don't tell me not to take it personally, you hairless Wookiee!”

“Hairless Wookiee?” he repeats, “Alright, sister, just... just... just calm down before your head explodes.”

Oh-ho-ho, here we go! “Don't tell me to calm down, you ignorant bantha!”

“Is that your idea of an insult? Come on, sister, take your best shot.”

Uh-uh, I’m not playing this time! “Drooling Bomarr cast-off!”

He laughs a bit. Still trying to play with me. “Oh, ouch. I think you hurt my man-feelings with that one.”

“Don’t patronize me, Carth.” You’ve seen me with my swords, do you really want to risk pissing me off?

“Wouldn't think of it,” he says, even though that’s basically what he’s been doing, “Feel better now?”

“Not really. This is still serious,” I say, turning more to face him.

He sighs, and I think he gets that I’m not playing today. “Look... all I mean is…”

I scoff again, interrupting him with a sarcastic laugh. “Right,” I say, “And how am I supposed to know that *you* won't betray us?”

“Me?”

Uh-huh, weren’t expecting that, were you? “Yes, you! Why should I trust you, after all?”

“You shouldn't.”

Huh. I think this just a bit of a turn. “If you're smart,” he continues, “you won't trust anyone… not me, not Bastila, and especially not yourself.”

“Ahhh…,” I say. I think I’m starting to get this. “So you don't trust yourself, is that it?”

“I don't need to be analyzed, thanks,” he says, starting to turn away from me, “Can we… can we just get back to business?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about this?” I think I’m getting somewhere here.

“No, I don't want to talk about it. What I want is to save the galaxy… if that's even possible.”

He stammers a bit, then says, “Why is whether or not I trust you or anyone so damned important to you? Why… why do you even care?” And before I have a chance to say anything else, he stops me. “We don't have time for this, so can we please just… drop it. For now? Can we pick it up later if you really must, I… want to get underway.”

You know what, dude, I feel like you’re trying to avoid this subject. But I’ve finished my bread and I feel like running it off, so what the hell, let’s go. So I sigh and get up. “Let’s go, then. This Jedi isn’t going to find herself. And neither is Mission.”

He hops off his chair and follows me out of the Bek base.

Let’s see, if the Vulkar base was back the way we came, then presumably the entrance to the Undercity is in the other direction. Sounds like a good place to start, at least. So I head off in that direction. And it’s not long before we run into some Vulkars, but I’m not so sure these guys will be a problem. Not if the guy they’re talking to is any indication.

“You guys are behind with your payments,” he says. A human. Payments to what? “What do you uh, you think just ‘cause you're in some gang you don't have to give Davik his cut?” Sounds like the Exchange to me. In the galaxy, wherever you are, there are two constants - Czerka Corporation, a huge intergalactic business conglomeration, and it’s less legitimate little brother, the Exchange. Where Czerka is a business, the Exchange is part organized crime, part black market. If a planet’s economy is like an iceberg, you’ll find Czerka above the water, and the huge mass of the Exchange under the water. And it seems to me like this Davik guy is in charge of the Exchange around these parts. I haven’t seen a trace of Czerka so far, so Davik must be the head honcho around these parts. Not the Sith, much as they think they’re in charge. No. It’s Davik.

“I don't see Davik doing anything for his share,” one of the Vulkars, a Nikta, says, “We do all the work. Davik claims he's part of the Exchange, so let's see him prove it.”

“Yeah,” his Rodian buddy scoffs, “let's see the big crime lord come and get his money from the Black Vulkars!”

Mission was right, these guys are idiots.

“Ah, so you want to play this the hard way?” the Exchange agent says, “Haha. OK.” And he whistles.

That is one built Mandalorian. And it looks like he knows his way around that repeating rifle.

And he has the Vulkars nervous. “Oh, hey… Canderous,” the Nikta says, backpedaling hard, “We didn't know you was working for Davik now.”

“Yeah, we were just goofin' around here,” the Rodian says anxiously, “We don't want no trouble with a Mandalorian. Here's Davik's cut.” And he hands the Exchange agent some credits.

“I knew you boys would see reason. Now get out of here.” And the Vulkars turn tail and run into the apartments.

“Too bad,” says the Mandalorian, “I was looking forward to cracking some heads.”

“Maybe next time, Canderous,” says the Exchange agent, “I better get this over to Davik. I'll call you if anyone else gets behind on their payments.” He heads off back towards the Upper City elevator, and Canderous heads into the apartments.

I sort of tilt my head a little and narrow my eyes. “Uh-oh,” Carth says, “I know that look. Why do I get the feeling we’ll be heading into those apartments?”

“I’ve just got a gut feeling that if we want to get off this planet, we’ll need that Mandalorian’s help,” I say.

“Can’t we worry about that after we’ve found Bastila?”

I turn to him. “Sure, if you want to search the entire planet for a lone Mandalorian working for the Exchange.”

Carth sighs defeatedly. “All right,” he says, and he follows me into the apartments.

Okay, we were literally right behind that Mandalorian, where the hell did he go? He has to be around here some… ooh a droid! My fingers have been itching to fix a droid ever since I saw that droid shop. And you know, I can almost smell the Black Vulkars in here. It would be good to have an extra gun hand here. So I settle down with my pack and my hyperspanner.

“What are you doing?” Carth asks, “I thought we were looking for that Mandalorian.”

“We were,” I say, starting to tinker with the droid, “But now I’m repairing this droid.”

He sighs again. “You really need to talk with someone about your attention span.”

“Can’t you smell the Vulkars in here?” I say, fixing the droid’s targeting sensors, “Trust me, you’ll thank me for this later, when you’re not bleeding on the floor.”

“How do you know there’s…?” he starts to ask, but then he just sighs again. “You know, forget it. Fix the droid, what the hell.”

“Now you’re seeing things my way,” I say, replacing the droid’s burned out shield emitters.

I just love fixing droids. If I believed all that Jedi crap, I’d say it was a great way of centering myself. But as it is, it just takes my mind off things. Like Bastila - what if we can’t find her? What if she’s dead by the time we get to her? What if we die before we get that accelerator for Gadon? What if, what if, what if. But fixing droids. That’s something I know I can do. That’s a problem I know I can fix. And it makes me feel a hell of a lot better about my other problems. There’s just something about fixing droids that tells me that everything’s going to be okay.

There we go, that should do it. This droid will go off and take care of any hostiles in the area. The more Vulkars we take care of now, the fewer we’ll have to worry about in their base when we get that accelerator. Now, with the droid taking care of the Vulkars, I can commit more time to finding that Mandalorian, Canderous. Carth and I have been right near the entrance this whole time, so he couldn’t have left. He has to be in one of these apartments.

Nope, not the first one.

Nope, not the second one, either.

And not the third one.

Or the fourth one.

Hmm. Why is there a footlocker in the middle of the room in the fourth one? And there’s a note on the footlocker: “Gilthos: Sorry I couldn't be there with you, but here's the package I promised. Remember, activate the holographic security system in the proper order to open it or… BOOM! Just activate the holograms in the same order that they joined the band. Since you're The Twisted Rancor Trio’s manager, you should be able to figure out the code. I still think this is a mistake. Davik won't be happy if Ashana can't fill in for her sister. And you don't want to get Davik mad or you might never come out of that estate again. Anyway, good luck. And if this works, think about what a great chapter it'll make in that biography of the band you’ve been working on.”

“No way!” I exclaim, “I love the Twisted Rancor Trio!”

“Who are the Twisted Rancor Trio?” Carth asks.

“You’ve never heard of the Twisted Rancor Trio?” I balk, “What kind of rock have you been living under? They’re only the best music group this side of the core! And I love them!” I look around at the holograms. “It’s a shame they stopped performing.”

“Why did they stop?”

“Their manager…” Oh, shit, he died. “Ah.”

“What?”

“See, I’d heard they were on Taris, but I didn’t think… Their manager died. And given from this note, he got in trouble with the Estate. Means he won’t be coming back for this stuff. We might as well take it.”

Carth looks at the note. “Well, the only way to get into it is to activate the holograms in the right order. Hopefully you’re as big of a fan as you say you are.”

“The biggest. Let’s see… first was… Elinda… then Ujaa and his brother Ujii… but they were awful so Loopa and Fodo took their places… that just leaves… Ashana.” And the footlocker opens. Awesome - some solid armor and 50 credits. If only their manager had the armor before he left for the Davik’s estate. I never thought this trivia would actually get me anywhere. This is some really nice armor, I think I’ll put it on. The Echani know their stuff. “There’s only one apartment left. That Mandalorian should be in there.”

“If he hasn’t left.”

“Stop raining on my parade.”

Next apartment - hmm, that’s a Twi’lek.

“Hey – you can't come in here! This is a private apartment!” he shouts at me.

“Sorry, I was looking for somebody else,” I say quickly, “What are you doing here? This place looks pretty much abandoned.”

“None of your business. Just turn around and go back the way you came, if you know what's good for you.”

Well, I don’t know what’s good for me. And I’m nosy. So maybe if I ask right… “Are you in some sort of trouble? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… I guess I could tell you. You'll probably find out on your own eventually, anyway. Zax is giving his bounties away like candy, or so I hear.” Oh, there’s a bounty office? “My name's Matrik – I used to work for the Exchange, but all the violence and killing started to get to me. I knew what I was doing was wrong, so I turned state's evidence.

“My testimony helped put some of the biggest criminals on Taris away for life. But Davik didn't like seeing his friends go down, so now he's got a bounty on my head.”

Ouch. “Isn’t there some sort of witness protection or something?”

“There was, until the Sith came in and shut it down.”

Double ouch. “Maybe there's some way I could help you out if this mess,” I say. Hey, if it hurts the Exchange, that’s alright in my book.

“I don't think there's much anyone could do. And I'm getting sick of running. I've decided to make my stand right here.”

He sounds like he’s given up. Well, he can’t exactly have Davik eliminated, and in a case like this, paying him off is not an option. “Maybe you could fake your own death?” I suggest.

“I've already thought of that,” he says, “I even came up with a plan of how to do it. But I can't pull it off while I'm holed up in here.”

“I could help you out. No one’s looking for me.”

“The trick is getting Davik to buy it when there's no body found at the scene,” he says, “If it looks like I died in a massive explosion, he won't be suspicious when my corpse never turns up. If I have an accomplice go back and tell Davik that they were the one who set off the explosion to eliminate me, I think I'd be home free. I have some demolitions experience from my own days in the Exchange so I could set it all up. But I'd need to get my hands on a permacrete detonator.”

“Hey, I can do that, no problem.”

“They don't usually sell them in stores here in the Lower City, but the Upper City might carry them. You might want to look there first,” he suggests, “Once that’s done, you could collect the bounty on my head. That would close the matter.”

Sounds like a good plan to me. “I’ll be back when I get that detonator.”

Matrik doesn’t say anything more. Like he doesn’t believe me. But I’ll get it for him.

“If we keep getting things for people, we’ll never find Bastila,” Carth says.

“Hey, if you want to go to the Undercity by yourself, be my guest,” I say to him, “But I want to try to help people, if I can. Isn’t that what the Republic does anyway?”

“Well, I guess you’re right,” he says, “Better to help where we can, I guess.”

“Now you’re seeing things my way,” I say. Back to the Upper City then.