#so like the exact problem is that we use pieces from a specific business so one of them have its name on it

[just-a-little-unionoid]

so I showed my current teacher my exercise to see if I could pass to the next step that yesterday teacher told us to do, and the current one doesn't agree on how to do it/what is the next step and ask me to do it another way

Why do they not talk to each other/why can't they trust us with knowing the next step? I used my own materials on this one, I was supposed to keep it, it took me multiple days, I can't legally keep it if I do it the new way, it's unfair

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Elation

Today's an Andre episode, so get ready for a lot of shipping fuel that goes nowhere, kids.

Let's get into the ninth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Elation

We start off after an Akuma fight, where Ladybug attempts to make a move on Cat Noir... even though he's about to detransform and needs to hightail it out of there. Ladybug then tries to force a kiss on Cat Noir's cheek, but because she isn't Adrien, she's actually questioned for this violation of personal space. Cat Noir thinks it was all a test for the whole secret identity rule, so the two part ways. It's weird how Cat Noir is the more sensible one in this opening scene.

Back at Marinette's place, Alya is sleeping over while the two talk about the former's feelings for Cat Noir.

Marinette: What if Cat Noir’s declining all my invitations because... because he’s... no longer in love with me?

Alya: You mean, you as Ladybug? You said it yourself a hundred times: Cat Noir and Ladybug just can’t work. You’d end up blabbing your secret identities to each other, Monarch would find out and your Miraculous would go “bye-bye”.

Marinette: Just because you couldn’t keep your secret from Nino when you’re both superheroes doesn’t mean I can’t do it with Cat Noir!

Alya: Hey! Who gave us both a Miraculous at the same time? And if you love a superhero, you’re gonna want to know who's behind the mask. How else are you supposed to live a legit love story?

Hey, remember when Alya was actually able to admit her mistakes last season? Good times.

First of all, Alya clearly forgot to mention that Ladybug giving her and Nino their Miraculous at the same time was because it was an all hands on deck situation, what with Scarletmoth amassing an army of Akumas and all that. Alya was specifically told to keep her identity secret last season because her family was in danger, and she chose her relationship with her boyfriend over keeping her and her loved ones. Second, isn't this the exact opposite of what Alya said last episode? She tried to argue that superheroes shouldn't keep their personal lives involved when fighting crime, but now, she's saying that Marinette needs to know who Cat Noir is in order to “live a legit love story”. I get that they're at least trying to acknowledge the problems with the whole identity stuff, but it contradicts the stuff Alya told Marinette last episode.

Either way, it leads to the same conclusion: Alya's all like “You're still in love with Adrien!”, and Marinette's all like “No, I love Cat Noir now!”, and then Adrien's all like “Hey Marinette, I conveniently chose to talk to you so you have an excuse to be embarrassed.” It's the same stuff we've already seen so far this season, and we're not even halfway through yet.

But yeah, Adrien came over to talk with Marinette, but Marinette's insecurities cause her to tell her mother to tell Adrien that she's busy. Before Adrien can do anything else, he's harassed by some of his fans. It's a pretty amusing scene, as it calls back to an earlier bit where Cat Noir is harassed by some different fans, and it made me smirk a little. Adrien transforms into Cat Noir to get away, only to run into Marinette, attempting to get some privacy after an argument with Alya. The two talk, and their banter is... tolerable. There's some decent chemistry here, and for once, Marinette is talking to a love interest without stuttering. I hate that it took until Season 5 to get a scene like this, but hey, it's better than nothing. There's also a really interesting take on the whole “Marinette is caught in her pajamas” gag (which has nothing to do with the fact that it lets the animators reuse one of their models), in that Cat Noir reassures Marinette that he doesn't mind.

Meanwhile, Alya came to the realization that she shouldn't force Marinette to go after Adrien... a piece of character development that came almost halfway through Season 5... after four seasons of essentially nagging Marinette to keep going after Adrien. You know what? If it makes the episode end faster, I'll go with it. Alya and Tikki go to apologize to Marinette, only to see she left with Cat Noir.

Marinette and Cat Noir decide to go to Andre's for ice cream (because I guess there are no other ice cream shops in the entire city of Paris other than his little ice cream cart), where we see another one of Andre's rules that makes you wonder how the hell he stays in business.

Andre: Marinette and Cat Noir! What are you two doing here?

Cat Noir: We’re here for ice cream, of course! Unless you’re selling hotdogs now. (the two laugh)

Andre: That’s a good one, Cat Noir! But I make sweethearts’ ice cream, not “jokers’ and good friends’” ice cream. Look, who do you see there next to Jean and Serge? (points at one of the photos posted on his cart) Ladybug and Cat Noir! Their flavor is one of my classics! Love is not something you joke about. You, Cat Noir, are in love with Ladybug, and you, Marinette, are supposed to be in love with Adrien Agreste.

Oh, for the love of—GET A LIFE, YOU CREEP!

This is the exact same problem Andre has had in his last two appearances: His entitled belief that he has to be right about love all the time, and how his ships are absolute. This man is way too invested in making sure two teenagers hook up even when it seems like one of them has found someone to love. And just like his last two appearances, Andre gets all pissy because his ice cream is supposedly never wrong, but we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Thanks to Andre's rambling, Cat Noir learns that Marinette was in love with Adrien, and the two talk about it. They eventually start kissing, but Cat Noir backs out of it, pointing out that he's essentially taking advantage of Marinette thanks to her being a fan of his, as well as his secret identity complicating things. Marinette doesn't take it well.

Marinette: UGH! I AM SICK AND TIRED OF PTHER PEOPLE DECIDING WHAT'S GOOD FOR ME!

Cat Noir: I’m taking you home.

Marinette: SICK! I AM SICK OF IT! WHY CAN'T I BE HAPPY!? WHY CAN'T I LOVE WHOEVER I WANT TO LOVE!? (breaks down sobbing)

Cat Noir: You can. I can’t. Not like this.

Honestly, this is a really great scene. While I think Cristina Vee and Bryce Papenbrook have been kind of phoning in their performances lately, they both do a great job here, with Marinette's breakdown sounding believable, and Cat Noir's somber delivery playing off it well.

Of course, this attracts the attention of Monarch, who attempts to akumatize Marinette, and Marinette seems to give in. Of course, because Astruc himself said Marinette isn't allowed to get akumatized, this potentially interesting idea is shot down thanks to Cat Noir kissing Marinette. Somehow, it works, causing Marinette to reject the Akuma, though Cat Noir still apologizes afterwards.

Cat Noir: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you again, but you weren’t listening to me, I was just trying to help you! To save you! That wasn’t a love kiss, it was... ugh, I’m just making it worse!

You know your kiss scene is confusing when one of your characters isn't sure what to make of it. If the moral of the story is that Marinette and Cat Noir can't be in love like this, why have Cat Noir save Marinette from getting akumatized by kissing her?

Of course, we still need an Akuma fight, so of course, Andre is akumatized into Glaciator again through his ice cream scoop. This time, he has the Tiger Miraculous' Clout, giving him the ability to fire bursts of energy in addition to his power to... be an ice cream golem.

Cat Noir gets Marinette to safety and tries to fight Glaciator, who sets his sights on Marinette for having the audacity to criticize his life's work. I wonder if one of the writers is projecting here. Of course, seeing how Glaciator is essentially Bomberman now, Cat Noir is overwhelmed by the sheer destructive power of the Akuma. Right when it seems like Glaciator is about to take his Miraculous, Alya stands up to him and tries to fight back, but is knocked away. Thankfully, Marinette had time to reunite with Tikki and transform into Ladybug. Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir, and after Glaciator temps the two to give up their Miraculous so they can be together without worrying about secret identities, the two refuse and reaffirm their friendship.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, a parasol, and comes up with a plan. While Cat Noir distracts Glaciator by pretending to struggle to get his Miraculous off (another admittedly funny joke), Ladybug throws the parasol through Glaciator's ice cream body, causing it to open up and blind him. Glaciator stumbles back and starts melting from being near one of the nearby fires, and once the ice cream body melts away to reveal Andre, Cat Noir uses his staff to break the scoop. Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, Andre apologizes for going on a homicidal rampage because his OTP didn't happen, Ladybug gives Andre another Magical Charm even though the last one didn't work at all, and uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage.

Meanwhile, Monarch transforms back into Gabriel, revealing that his Cataclysm wound is getting worse.

So remember when Gabriel started actually acting like a parent to Adrien in “Illusion”? It probably means he's only doing it because his days are numbered. Gabriel notes that now he knows that Cat Noir has feelings for Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and that he plans to exploit them.

Yeah, five bucks says he'll go back to ignoring her by the next episode. Marinette and Cat Noir share one last conversation about how it's easy for Marinette to mistake her feelings for Cat Noir for just being a fan (ironically, you could say the same thing about Marinette's feelings for Adrien too) before choosing to break things off, Marinette breaking down crying again as soon as Cat Noir leaves. The episode ends with Adrien realizing that there's a chance that Marinette could fall for him again.

Anyway, this episode was honestly pretty decent. Aside from a few things that have been par for the course this season, I really didn't have a lot of problems with the episode. Marinette and Cat Noir had some okay chemistry, and I liked how Cat Noir was able to acknowledge how he was abusing his status as a superhero by trying to start a relationship with Marinette, even if it never came up last season with Kagami. I also thought the animation was the best so far this season, with a lot of good shots at night and some decent action. Of course, it wasn't perfect. While it was nice to see some character development from Alya, it came across as an afterthought since most of it happened off-screen, and as always, Andre was a gigantic manchild.

While I am glad that there seemed to be some kind of progress being made for character development as evidenced with Cat Noir and Alya, it does feel long overdue. We're almost halfway through the show's fifth season, and only now are we getting stuff like Marinette and Cat Noir developing feelings for each other, Adrien learning that Marinette had feelings for her, and Alya learning to not focus so much on forcing her ships to happen. All of this should have happened a long time ago, but after almost four seasons of nothing but filler, only now are we getting some serious plot and character development. Considering the fact that this was originally planned to be the last season before the show got renewed, I'm worried that the writers are just going to cram a lot of plot progression and character development into the second half of the season without giving the audience time to process all of it, all while acting like we should be grateful because at least something's happening.

Overall, this was a decent episode, though part of me is worried how the rest of the season will handle the story if certain developments only came this late into the show's run.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... ANDRE

Yeah, this wasn't a surprise here. Just like the last two times he got akumatized, he threw a temper tantrum and tried to kill Marinette because one of his predictions based on his ice cream was wrong while ignoring the hundreds of other couples he's brought together as evidenced by “Wishmaker”, and needing to learn the same lesson he learned in “Glaciator 2”, in addition to turning down two paying customers because they're not Lucy and Ricky levels of being in love with each other. Hell, I'm pretty sure if Andre ever saw an asexual person, he'd have a heart attack trying to get them some ice cream.

[bonsaiiiiiii-fics]

Eggs: chapter 2

Here we goooooo with chapter 2 of Eggs! I'm glad you liked it so much it bought me to make another chapter. I hope you like this one too <3

here you have it on Ao3!

Words: 4200-ish (too lazy to count the exact words. still a lot lol)

Genre: fluff on the long run, slice of life.

Fandom: Thunderbirds are go!2015

Characters: of course all of ‘em, again. some more oc’s this time, Quinn’s parents, plus Laurie again! She's part of the family now hehe.

Aw. This wasn't the best outcome ever that she imagined. 

So donor mommy is dead, she ponders as she checks Lucille off her bucket list, this inconvenience making it impossible to ever meet her. She honestly didn't know what she expected until now, but she has no choice in feeling disappointed; after all, this woman gave her a chance to live, a chance into this world, and without her she wouldn't substantially exist. Like Jeff said, they and her parents knew each other from school, more specifically high school, losing gradually contact with each other once they got into college, so she was very pleased when she asked her parents about Lucille, receiving some answers about who she was and why she did this. She already knew why Lucille did this to her mom, because her mom wasn’t able to conceive, but it all gave her some more clearance.

“Basically you’re supposed to be the same age as his eldest son, babe…” She remembers her mom’s words as she scribbles the key parts of the conversation on a piece of paper, near some physics equations. “...’cos we decided to get pregnant together. But I had some heart complications, so she gave birth to her baby and the egg she gave me got frozen, some crio-crap or that stuff; so when I got better the egg had this defrost and I finally got the chance to have you in my life.” Her mom has never been this great with wording, despite her line of work needing a specific vocabulary- after all, it’s not like a flight attendant can use words like babe during pre-flight organization. Hm, she needs to scribble this important piece of information down too. After that, there hasn’t been much her mom was able to tell her, so she kinda has to resort to Jeff to get to know more about her. But, the question is, does she want to know more about Lucille?

She doesn't really want to be a part of that family, keep them close, because she already has one, the ones that grew her and educated her into who she is now, and it would be weird to go back and forth between a family and the other like it's normal business. But still...they're her half-siblings. Man, it's weird as hell hearing that, like it is coming to the conclusion she indeed has another family. Her parents hugged her when she bought her problems to them, telling her that, even if she has some more relatives now, this won’t mean they’re being replaced, on the contrary.

Her attention turns back to her list and her pen lands next on Clinton Smith's name, her donor daddy. She has yet to meet him, and Jeff promised he would find him upon her mentioning she has troubles doing so on her own. Well, she hasn’t asked him yet, but they basically live just next door; if she faces the window she can see the house’s silhouette, the same house her biological mother grew up in. Crazy how near she was all this time…did she get to even meet her, even if it was just a glance on the street? Did Lucille ever manage to see her, if from afar, if her parents accepted a meeting between them and she was too little to remember? Did…Lucille even want to see her in the first place? Sure, Jeff said that she wanted, but Sally also said Lucille never expected for her to come visit her. Let’s scribble this down.

"Man, I'm getting really sappy." She rolls her eyes, dumping unceremoniously the pen on top of the sheets spread all over her blanket, on the bed. She had always been a logical mind, and calculations have always been a passion for her. She would turn everything into something physics, logical, she would find a math formula in everything, a thing she now discovered she inherited from her biological mother. "Hm," she eyes one of those sheets, displaying lots of calculations and formulas scribbled messily. "I need to update Pot."

Her phone ringing, blasting a rock tune full sound, distracts her from the task she currently set herself to do now, her face lighting up at the caller ID. 

"Rie!!! My sis, my precious bestie!" She fake sobs into her phone. "I missed you!" 

"Are you crying?" Laurie's voice sounds cheerful, not seeming worried with that. "Is it me you're missing or tacos?" 

The reply is a moment of silence. "Now that you mention it..." 

"Traitor." She laughs it out. "Well, I'll be there in 5, so it's better if you find yourself ready." 

"Oooooh, I live to see the day Laurie Charter herself takes me out on a date, never thought the roles would reverse so much! Missing me so much already?" 

"You've been closed in your room for 4 days, now it's the moment to cut loose. Hurry up, I have a surprise for you." And with that, she hangs up. 

Quinn shrugs, hauling herself off the bed and going cheerfully towards her closet, her mind set on going eating. She needs nourishment, and if they're under the form of tacos then who is she to refuse them precious carbs? After 34 minutes, her mom’s advice on a hairstyle, Rie’s advice on what to wear after she came and knocked on her door several times, her not being ready in 5 minutes like Rie wanted, Quinn’s finally ready to come out of her room and accept Rie’s surprise- what’s supposed to be breakfast, that now turned into a simple brunch.

“So?” Laurie starts, taking a sip of her pomegranate tea. “What’s been on your mind lately?”

“Ah-” She messily spits out, her mouth full of tacos; after she gulps down what was in her mouth, she speaks again. “I was thinking of inviting them to dinner. Or to meet somewhere.”

“When?”

“I was thinking tonight? The sooner the better. I don’t know why, but I think of it as a band-aid I have to rip off ASAP.”

“Hm.” Laurie takes a gentle bite from her donut. “But how does this make you feel? The whole thing, I mean.”

“Well, I don’t know why…but I’m disappointed. I know I shouldn’t be, I mean, I have a family of my own that raised me to be the woman I am now, even if I don’t look like either of them. The fact one of my biological parents, if not both of them, is dead…it shouldn’t mean anything to me.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” Rie protests softly, getting up from her seat in front of her bestie to go sit near her. “Sure, they’re not the parents who raised you up, but without them you wouldn’t be here.” She places her arm around Quinn’ shoulders, pulling her into a half-hug. “And you don’t know if your biological dad is still alive.”

“Well, even if he is, what should I do then? I don’t picture myself staying with him or visiting him just because he contributed to my creation…I mean, I didn’t.”

“Finding Lucille, or her family, changed this thought of yours?”

“I don’t know…the fact I had a chance to meet her, and from this chance I gained some step-brothers…y’know, I regretted for some time the fact that I didn’t open the documents as soon as I got them.”

“Well, everybody can understand that, not everyone is ready to have their life turned upside down like this.” She pauses, and for a few minutes they both sit in silence, soft chewing noises that make it more enjoyable. “I think you should give them a call and have dinner with them.”

Quinn pauses, cleaning her dirty fingers with a napkin. “It’s stupid for a brilliant ivy league brain like mine, but…you don’t think I’m replacing my parents this way, right…?”

Laurie’s half-hug turns into a full fledged one, hug-crushing her bestie. “Absolutely not! Even your mom told you this.”

Quinn sinks into her bestie’s embrace, pondering. Her mom… “Hang on!” She detaches, a crazy glimmer in the brown eyes she inherited from her biological mother. “I can invite them to my house! Jeff said they knew each other, so they’ll have the chance to talk again, and I’ll treat them like family friends instead of family! I mean- until I’ll be ready to see them as family.”

“Well-” Laurie starts tentatively, not colliding with Quinn's plan. But after all, if that's her wish, if that's what makes it easier for her… “-sure, why not?” She takes another sip of her tea, finishing it. “When do you plan on calling them?”

“Honestly, I don't know if I should call them or go to their house…what do you think it's best?” Quinn ponders, playing with her straw and twirling it around the rim of her glass. Having another family to think about has never been so stressful.

“Well, personally delivered news is always better. You can stop by just to tell them and you'll see them tonight.” Rie replies, patting gently her bestie's shoulder. “You also have their contact numbers, right?”

“Yeah, but I think what you said is best. Wanna go now?”

“Oh!” She mutters, checking her clock. “Sorry, I can't. I gotta give an exam next week and I want to study a little, just to be sure. But if you want to go now you totally can!”

“Oh, well, that's perfect, no worries! Then I'll let you know what they said.”

Aaaand there she is again, in front of that fateful house that holds an important piece of her. This time she's not so nervous to let her presence known, so she knocks on the door, waiting for an answer. It takes a little, and she scrunches her nose; are they gone already? Gone where? Isn't this their home, where they grew up?

Just when she shrugs, about to step away from their porch and go back home to contact them via holocall and update Pot, the door opens, revealing one of her step-brothers. The one she shares the eyes with.

“Hi, how- oh, it's you!” Virgil's eyes glimmer at the sight of his new sibling, his first sister by blood- apart from Kayo, his sister by soul. “Sorry it took me a while…how can I help you? Do you wanna come in?”

“Oh, hi, Virgil! Yeah, it would be nice.” Unconsciously, her eyes glimmer too. “How are you guys?”

“Oh, all fine, thank you. How are you, how's your family?” Wow, this sounds exactly like a question a family friend would say, and not her family by blood. Hm, it'll be easier than expected to pretend with them a little before facing the cold, harsh truth.

“Oh, all right. Apart from some pretty stubborn calculations for my midterm, I'll eventually figure my way out of that one too. If I flirt with it, chances are that it might soften a little.” She jokes, allowing Virgil to crack a hearty laugh. “Is your dad home?”

“Ack, you just missed him! He had to go to Washington with Scott for a meeting. If you want you can leave me a message for him.”

“Ah, that's alright.” She accommodates herself to a comfy seat on the couch Virgil pointed her to, him sitting right beside her with some distance added for comfort. “Do you know when they'll be back? I want to invite you guys over for dinner…” For reasons unknown to her, she shies out a little, the words not coming out with her usual confidence.

“Oh!” Virgil is taken aback by this request of hers, finally happy she decided to reach out for them after giving her space. He thought about it, about her, in these 4 days she's been radio silent; they all sat down and talked together about this the same night after she visited, and after that there's been some chats between the three eldest, Scott taking the lead for the times he butted himself in wherever the topic or her name has been mentioned.

After much research on her and some records from their dad, all of them eventually became convinced she shares half their blood, therefore she's family, even Scott after a looooong while. Scott was skeptical at first, wary even, because she's still a stranger, a thunder in broad daylight, and just like that she flipped their lives upside down with their mom's perfect resemblance; it took a lot of time and evidence for him to relax his shoulders and finally accept her.

John, silent as usual, trusted his gut for once instead of his brain, his logical core receiving the proof he always seeks in everything upon seeing her face for the first time. He didn't do any further research, if not to calm Scott down, and that has been more than enough for him to trust her. He revealed to Virgil, in one of their 3 eldest conversations, that he's curious to get to know her, to know if she shares their and their mother's same interests, apart from the aspect.

Gordon…well he knows Gordy like the back of his hand, his well trusted copilot, and to say he was absolutely mesmerized by her from the first time he laid eyes on her is a misunderstanding; after all, if you place them side by side, it looks like they could be twins for how dangerously identical they are, just opposite sexes.

And Alan, what to say about him. His big sister!, he excitedly said, another part of his family! Yeah.

“Well,” Virgil starts again, recollecting his thoughts. “They actually have to eat dinner at some place or something, but they'll be way happier to dine back home. I'll call them and let them know to not make any stops.”

“Oh, but if they're busy dining somewhere else I can arrange for another night.” Quinn says, remembering the speech Rie gave her about who they are. Millionaires. Possibly freaking billionaires, that have countless houses, a freakin’ Island and giant ass ships, all in one! And here she got her suspicions confirmed, just by looking at this house she figured already they're rich, just not this important. Motherfrikin’ International Rescue!

“Nah, no worries! Their stop was kind of forced, since they're probably gonna finish late and want to rest a little, especially dad. You've seen him these days, haven't you?” He asks, finding that his dad's health is a great topic just to keep her here some more.

“Yeah…what's happening with him? If I can, uh, ask.”

“Of course.” He takes a deep breath, trying to lay this on her as gently as possible; it's probable she's been living under a rock, hence why she doesn't really know them and what they do, except from her best friend who seemed to vividly know who she had in front of her at their meeting. “He's had kind of an accident in space.”

???!!! “Space??”

“Yeah. He's slowly recovering now, so he'll get better, but the therapy is an exhausting path for him.”

“Yeah…” Quinn shifts her legs uncomfortably. “I'm sure he'll get better.”

“Thank you.” Virgil smiles at her. Just as he's about to say something else, he gets interrupted by one of his brothers entering the living room after what seems like a deep slumber.

“Hey Vì, who was at the doo…oh!” Alan gasps upon laying his eyes on Quinn, suddenly aware of the oversized Hard Rock Cafe shirt he's wearing, some neon red trunks that look like a punch in the eye in contrast with the plain cream shirt, foot bare and bedridden hair. Yup, that boy sure had the best reboot of his life.

“Hiii!” Quinn energetically waves at him, doing the same weird bro handshake they did the first time they met, Alan regaining his usual smile and playfulness.

“She has just been inviting us for dinner tonight.” Virgil says, smiling at their cute and natural interaction, like they knew each other since they were little.

“Ooooooh, nice! Where are we going?” He makes that happy puppy face, happy that he gets the chance to see her again, that she wants to reach out again.

“I was thinking over at my house, y'know? Your parents knew mine, so I think it's a perfect chance for them to meet again.”

“Actually that's a great idea, how thoughtful of you.” Virgil answers, making Quinn crack a smile.

“Hey, sometimes my brain seems to poop out these genius ideas, what to say?” She confidently says, swishing her hair again.

“Well, nothing more to expect from an ivy league brain.” Virgil laughs it out, totally on board with her confident sense of humor. “By the way, can we offer you something? Like some water, a snack?”

“Oh, yeah, some water would be awesome! Have you checked how hot is it today? It's like Hell on Earth today.”

“Not hotter than other days, you gotta see Hell on Earth next week or something.” Alan says, shrugging the upcoming sleepless and sweating nights off his mind, just for now.

“Ah, don't I know it…” She rolls her eyes, thanking Virgil who in the meantime just bought her a nice blessing disguised as a glass of water. After she gulps it down in some big chugs, she wipes her mouth, placing the now empty glass on a nearby tabletop. “Well, I'll go on my way now, I gotta prepare for later. Is it okay around 7PM?”

“More than perfect, actually. Do you want me to get you at your door?” Virgil offers, getting up from his seat, Alan instantly near him too.

“Me too!” The youngest adds with his usual puppy smile.

“Why not? So you can see where I live anyways, not that it's that far.” She gets up, putting her usual paperboy hat on, a necessary measure to keep her beautiful and brilliant blonde head from the scorching sun outside.

“Alright then, I'll put my shoes on. Allie, go get dressed.” He speaks to a puppy that precedes him, already up the stairs to freshen up and scroll the nappy time off.

And moments later, they all were at her door. “Do you want a snack? Some coffee?” Quinn says while unlocking the door, allowing them to get in first.

“Now you’re speaking my language!” Virgil smiles broadly, stepping aside to allow the housekeeper to enter first, ever the gentleman.

“Well, nothing wrong with a little snack!” Alan takes the initiative instead, strolling into the room just before Quinn. He stops a few steps later, not familiar with the ambience. “Uhhh…”

Quinn laughs it off, pointing them to her living room, while Virgil scolds him lightly for barging in and not greeting her family.

“Ah, don't worry, they're not home right now. They'll be back in about…” She checks the wall clock. “...2 hours? Give or take. Momma’s gone shopping, ‘cause tomorrow she works, while dad’s working right now. This evening they’re all gonna be there.” Her voice gets weaker and weaker while she goes into the kitchen to provide some coffee and snacks for her guests.

While they wait for their ‘sister’’s return, they look around the living room, commenting quietly on it. “This house is not too bad either. Very big…” Alan absentmindedly says, making a mental note that Quinn can know too what it’s like growing up rich, like them.

“It’s all in shades of gold, somewhat matching with everything.” Virgil’s artistic side breaks loose, his eyes scanning the room with a killer precision, stopping on a specific painting to admire it. Quinn is portrayed on this canvas, and you can see it’s handmade and mesmerizing, with her color palette very brilliant and vivid, the blues, reds and blacks of her graduation coat complimenting the gold, the brown and the blonde of her figure, pearly white teeth smiling at them and a very brilliant bouquet of colorful flowers that are so realistic you could almost smell them. For some reason, it’s almost as if he's looking at his mom smiling for him yet again. That smile she has in the painting is different from the one she usually sports in front of them, more genuine, warmer…mom’s.

“How much sugar in your coffees?” Quinn shouts from the kitchen, making both brothers straighten up and look towards the source of her voice, the kitchen.

“Alan doesn’t take it, mine with just some milk, cold if possible.” Virgil shouts back after debating quickly with Alan, him shaking his head.

“Comin’ right up!” And true to her words, some moments later Quinn returns into the living room carrying a big tray full of snacks and other drinks; Virgil is quick to jump up from his seat, helping her place it on a coffee table in front of the couches, where she sits down too. After a coffee with some milk for Virgil, a caramel macchiato for Quinn, some cranberry juice for Alan and some chocolate chip biscuits for everyone to feast on, they get back into conversation.

“What job do your parents do, by the way? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” Virgil starts, the doubt not leaving his mind since she mentioned why her parents aren’t home.

“Oh, my mom is a flight attendant, while my dad is a game engineer, or some sort. He builds special plushies and games for children.” Quinn broadly says. “While yours?”

“Mom was an aerospace engineer, dad is a retired astronaut. Retired for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, I get it. I suppose it was awesome to grow up with parents with these jobs.”

“Meh, partly yes. Sometimes, they were really busy or away from work to stay with us, and Grandma was with us most of the time. But on the other hand, yeah, it was awesome because they would always bring us lots of things and pictures from where they went and what they did.” Virgil explains, remembering fondly the old moments together. Quinn, though, doesn’t fail to notice Alan’s pained and awkward expression with the corners of her eyes, like he’s taking part in a conversation he can’t contribute to. “But after Gordon, mom left her job, staying at home full time with us. Then…things happened.”

“Yeah…can't say I get it, but in some way I suppose I do.” Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t know the reason Lucille’s dead yet. Welp, it’s not like she can openly ask them, considering how they all shy out at even the mention of her name.

“How did it make you feel to know about mom?” Alan asks curiously, just to check if she shared or shares their same sense of loss.

“Well, uh…” She nervously chuckles. “...we can say I'm pretty sad I didn't get the chance to meet her sooner, especially considering the fact we lived so close to each other, but really I think I shouldn't be feeling like this. After all, I've got parents on my own.”

“It's perfectly normal for you to feel this way.” Virgil simply dissipates her doubts, leaving it at that.

“Yeah…well!” She deems it safe to change conversation, trying to bring some lightheartedness to the ambience. “So this is my house! It’s not as big as yours, but it’s still a nice place to live in.” What a kickstarter…she quietly sips her coffee after that, somewhat embarrassed to be with them.

“Yeah! I honestly didn’t expect us to be so close, who knew we could have met a long time ago?” Alan adds, making it difficult for Quinn now to picture them just as some family friends. Dang.

“Yeah…” She laughs it out sheepishly, adding to it another sip of her coffee. 

Just as Virgil is about to speak, his holocomm rings, beeping noisily enough for everyone to notice. “Ah, sorry, gotta take this. It's dad.” And after excusing himself, he distances himself from them. Moments later, and many biscuits later, he returns with a smile. “Allie, we gotta go. They finished their meetings earlier and are heading home now.”

“Well,” Quinn gets up from her seat in unison with Alan, who approaches his big brother. “It's been a pleasure to welcome you home. I hope to see you later for dinner.” She smiles broadly.

“Of course! I already told them, we'll be all here this evening. 7PM, right?”

“Hmm-mh! But it's okay if you'll be late, at least it will make up for my stunt a few days ago.” She jokes, earning yet another laugh from both brothers. They look like they don't smile that often these days.

After waving them goodbye, her petite figure half leaning on the door, she closes it with a big sigh. Now, to let her parents know…hm, but what will they be eating? Her fridge isn't that full…maybe a pizza? Uhhh, pizza and tacos! “I'm a genius!” A beep on her phone notifies her that her beloved AI, Potatoer (shortly Pot), requests her attention. Girl, please update me. I hate it here, feeling like a grandpa.

“Ahhhh Pottyyyyy! Lemme give you some software updates for dinner!” She shouts while sprinting upstairs to her bedroom.

[benevolentbirdgal]

What makes a golem a golem? I see a lot of media that calls any sort of construct or manmade being a golem but I feel like that’s not right? I see a lot of people see Frankenstein’s monster is a golem for example.

Great question that I'm probably going to end up answering in like four different directions!

Also, sorry for the delay, I saw this, thought wow, this deserves a thoughtful response, and then got busy for two weeks with travel and family stuff!

Okay, so usual disclaimers that I am not the holder of the One True Jewish Opinion and that folklore can be wibbly, but here's my basic take on what makes a golem a golem.

There are a few positions I'm going to explore here on "what is a Golem" -

The most literal/traditional definition from pre-20th century writings.

The most inclusive - Every Constructed Man Is A Golem and/or if someone calls it a Golem it must be one.

The appropriation-observation - That Mech Isn't A Golem, But It's A Problem That It's Pretending To Be.

Also: Full Disclosure: My personal opinion is definitely somewhere in the "Golem means a specific thing, but it gets misappropriated a lot and that's bad" range.

In the most literal & traditional sense, a Golem is a formerly inanimate anthropomorphic shaped clump of Something (most traditionally clay or dirt or rock) brought to life by the magic of the Hebrew alphabet. Golems also lack free will - whatever you tell them to do, they do, and generally they are portrayed as very literal in how they interpret instructions. They are also, in the earliest examples, mute.

Golem folklore goes back into at least Talmudic times (first centuries common era), with examples of Rabbi such-and-such making golems using Hebrew names or the word for truth in middle ages. Our modern conceptions are also typically heavily grounded in the writings of the Maharal of Prague (Judah Loew ben Bezalel), who lived and wrote in the 16th century. Although relatively recent, the Maharal and his golem he deactivated so it wouldn't have to work on Shabbos are the most famous at this point.

Many of these stories understood golems as both general household help and as potential protectors of the Jewish community. The Maharal in particular engaged with the latter angle.

I do not think that the most exclusive interpretation of what we call golems, at least alone is helpful for modern discourse. Having a base understanding is useful though.

Roughly, tradition tells us that a golem is a traditionally clay-based constructed humanoid figure brought to life by the power of the written Hebrew language and operates without free will and usually without speech. They are not evil, just literal AF, and need to be handled with care - both with respect to their behavior and by some accounts, how the golem itself is treated.

This is a fairly restrictive definition. The opposite view is that anything that looks like, is called as, or vibes like a golem counts. In my observation, this is usually in the interest of calling out misappropriated golems.

I basically see three problems with the "everything is a Golem" camp:

It's NOT a one-to-one, but there are other manmade alive-but-not figures that fill similar roles outside of Jewish folklore. I'm not saying that a Talon (Greek) or Shabti (Egyptian) Tupilaq (Inuit) are exact equivalent to Golems, I'm saying that if a creator from a background with a constructed person-like entity as part of their traditions creates media with constructed person-like entity we should hear the contextual horses not zebras.

If something is a golem, we need something to not be. If we wanted to be very expansive, one could even argue that household robots like Rosie from The Jetsons are Golem analogues, which would be fun to argue, but one would be wrong. Basically, I oppose "anything is this specific thing" definitions.

There are lots of pieces of media that misappropriate golems (and other Jewish folklore, but that's a song for another time), but it's important to me that we save that label for Actual Problematic Appropriation, not literally anything that could possibly count because of vibes or whatever.

I do think we should be immediately suspicious of that which is labeled by creators as Golems when the creators are not Jewish. Why is gentile creator insisting this is a thing from a community they are not part of???

I sympathize with the assessment that misappropriated golems and golem analogues abound, because they do. This brings me to my own view.

For me - I think the best ways to determine if x is a Golem or Golem-analogue, misappropriated or otherwise, is to explore the following three questions:

Does it line up to the traditional description?

Do the creators insist that it is a Golem and/or do we have reason to believe they were influenced by Golem stories?

Is there a community consensus from the culture of origin - Jewish - that this piece of media is a Golem or Golem analogue? [by far the trickiest to determine].

I think there are basically three answers you could land on: definitely a Golem, definitely not a Golem, and some middle ground of inspiration from the thing.

Since the example given was Frankenstein, I'll run that as a sample:

Eh. I see where people are coming from on this one, I do, but I don't think the evidence is damning here. We could nitpick on the physically different aspects - the lack of Hebrew inscription, people instead of dirt/clay, the electricity bringing to life, but I actually think the thematic differences are more relevant. Golems are explicitly under the control of their creator, have a (relatively) easy on/off switch, are generally intended for good purposes (household help, self-defense), and regarded as part of the household (most narratives have Golems not working on Shabbat). Although I wouldn't say Frankenstein's Monster is evil, there's a very different relationship and operation that is much more horror-y than folklore-y at the end of the day.

Shelley never straight-up said the monster was a Golem. Although Golem narratives go back much earlier, their debut to the wider world was in 1808 through the Brothers Grimm's submission to a literary journal, Journal of Hermits. In 1808 and 1812 we see clear departures from traditional Jewish narratives in the write-up's from the Grimm brothers. It's perfectly plausible she interacted with Golem or Golem-esque ideas through her intellectual circles in this way.

There is not community consensus that Frankenstein's Monster = Golem. There are definitely Jews who hold this position, but it's not a community consensus by any means.

In this case, at least for Shelley's 1816 publication (not getting into later stuff or movies), inspiration from the Brother's Grimm bastardization is probable, but ultimately I'd say not a Golem.

As per usual, OP (or anyone else) is welcome to follow-up, other Jews welcome to add stuff, goyim welcome to reblog!

[aliexpress-hidden-link]

How to Find AliExpress Hidden Links: A Comprehensive Guide

Navigating the world of online purchasing can on occasion experience like a treasure hunt, particularly in terms of locating hidden links on AliExpress for unique or branded objects at aggressive expenses. These hidden links are basically disguised listings used to sell branded gadgets without openly bringing up the brand names, thereby skirting trademark problems. Whether you're a seasoned shopper or new to the sector of AliExpress, this manual will offer you with the essential guidelines to find these elusive hidden links.

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Sellers on AliExpress often use code words or accepted terms instead of emblem names to listing their merchandise. For instance, rather than the use of the call "Nike," a list may use "NK" or "Swoosh shoes." Getting acquainted with these codes may be immensely helpful. Regularly journeying structures like ours at alihiddenproduct.Com and our Yupoo catalog at https://hidden-link2.X.Yupoo.Com/ can offer insights into current tendencies and terminology.

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AliExpress offers a powerful picture search device that may be your great pal in finding hidden links. By importing a image of the object you are inquisitive about, the platform can go back listings that appearance comparable but might not use the brand's call in the product description.

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Once you discover a seller who constantly offers exact nice hidden link objects, stay with them. Trusted dealers are goldmines for hidden links due to the fact they often ought to list beneath special names or classes to keep away from detection. Build a rapport and now and again they could share their new listings without delay with you.

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Finding hidden links on AliExpress requires persistence, staying power, and a piece of insider understanding. By following those steps and making use of sources like ours, you are well on your way to turning into a hidden link professional. Happy hunting!

[socialvinod]

Navigating the Paper Trail: Essential Documents Required to Import from China

Curious about the documents required to import from China? Are you planning to start the exciting journey of importing goods from China? What crucial paperwork stands between you and a thriving import business? Let's unveil the essential documentation requirements to ensure your seamless entry into the world of international trade with China.

When it comes to international business, especially in a highly industrialised country like China, it’s important to understand the complexity of rules and regulations.

In this guide, we will delve deep into the realm of documents required to import from China—those critical pieces of paperwork that can either pave the way for a seamless importation process or lead to costly and time-consuming obstacles.

China offers a huge variety of items at low prices, making it a go-to source for enterprises globally. However, the success of your importing venture hinges not only on finding the right supplier but also on meticulously managing the documents required to import from China.

In this comprehensive exploration, we'll not only underscore the importance of these documents but also illuminate the terrible consequences that can stem from inadequate documentation. Understanding why these papers are crucial and how to navigate the bureaucratic intricacies can make all the difference in your importing journey. In order to ensure that you are well-prepared to face the challenges and opportunities that this dynamic trading partnership has to offer, let's set off on this journey through the key documents required to import from China.

Unlocking the Power of Documentation

Why Documentation Matters

In your quest to import goods from China, understanding the pivotal role of documentation is the first step towards a successful venture. But why is it so crucial, and what specific documents are indispensable for your journey?

Smooth sailing or troubled waters?

Picture this scenario: You've meticulously identified a reliable supplier in China, skillfully negotiated prices, and are eagerly awaiting your shipment. Your excitement is palpable, but here's the catch: without the right documentation, your entire operation could be in jeopardy. The absence of essential paperwork can lead to delays, refusals, or customs holds, putting your imports on shaky ground.

The Backbone of Compliance and Trust

Your journey hinges on having the right paperwork at your fingertips. Proper documentation is your compass through the labyrinth of import laws. It's not merely a formality; it's your key to unlocking seamless transactions. The right documents are a testament to your commitment to legal and ethical business practises, reinforcing the credibility of your enterprise.

The Hidden Risks of Inadequate Documentation

Incomplete or incorrect documentation isn't a minor issue. It can trigger a domino effect of problems, from hefty fines to prolonged delays and, in severe cases, even the confiscation of your hard-earned products. Furthermore, it can tarnish your reputation and erode the trust you've painstakingly built with your Chinese suppliers. The bottom line: disorganised or lacking documents can be a costly oversight.

A Race Against Time: Get Organised

To stay ahead in the importation game, getting your documentation in order is a race against potential pitfalls. The sooner you start, the smoother your journey will be.

Unlocking the Power of Documentation

Before we dive in, let us understand why documentation is so critical to the importation process and essential to the exact documents you want.

Imagine that you have located a supplier in China, have successfully negotiated a price, and are excitedly anticipating your shipment. However, without the proper documentation, your items can be delayed, refused, or held up at customs. The right paperwork enables you to abide by import laws and establishes the reliability of your business.

A variety of issues, including fines, holdups, and the confiscation of your products, might arise from insufficient documentation. It can harm your reputation and undermine supplier trust. Consequently, it's crucial to organise your papers right away.

Navigating China Imports Seamlessly: Common Documents Required for OyeExpress

For Oyeexpress, your trusted partner in the realm of importation, ensuring a smooth and efficient process for importing goods from China is a top priority. Our commitment to your success goes beyond just delivering your products; it extends to equipping you with the knowledge and resources needed to thrive in the world of international trade. Here, we shed light on the common documents required for China imports and how they support Oyeexpress in facilitating your journey.

Commercial InvoiceA comprehensive and accurate commercial invoice is at the heart of every successful import transaction. It serves as a detailed record of the goods, their value, and the transaction terms. Oyeexpress ensures that your commercial invoices are meticulously prepared, meeting both legal and business requirements, making customs clearance a breeze.

Bill of LadingThe bill of lading is your ticket to claim the goods at the destination port. Oyeexpress ensures that this crucial document is secured promptly and accurately, reducing the risk of delays and keeping your supply chain on track.

Packing ListA well-organized packing list is essential for easy identification and inspection of your goods. Oyeexpress meticulously compiles packing lists, allowing you to manage your inventory efficiently and aiding in customs examinations.

Certificate of OriginThe certificate of origin is your proof of where the goods originated. With Oyeexpress, you can rest assured that this document complies with international regulations and trade agreements, facilitating smooth customs procedures.

Importer Security Filing (ISF)The ISF is a mandatory document for U.S. imports. Oyeexpress ensures that your ISF filing is accurate and timely, helping you avoid penalties and ensuring compliance with U.S. customs requirements.

Importer of Record (IOR) InformationAs your trusted partner, Oyeexpress assists in gathering and managing IOR information, streamlining the customs process, and ensuring that all legal obligations are met.

Quality Control and Inspection ReportsQuality control is vital to safeguarding the integrity of your imports. Oyeexpress arranges for rigorous inspection and provides detailed reports, allowing you to make informed decisions about the quality of your goods.

By meticulously handling these common import documents, Oyeexpress simplifies the complexities of importing from China. Our support not only ensures compliance with legal and regulatory requirements but also minimises the risk of delays, fines, and disruptions. With Oyeexpress by your side, your China imports become a hassle-free journey, empowering your business to thrive in the global marketplace.

Conclusion: Simplifying China Imports with OyeExpress

Importing from China has great promise, but organising the necessary papers for a smooth importation procedure is difficult. OyeExpress is your unshakable ally, ready to guide you through this complex path and ensure your documents are in order—a crucial part of the "Documents Required to Import from China."

This tutorial has stressed that precise documentation is essential to success. Avoiding this crucial step could delay your business and damage its reputation. OyeExpress recognises this and works to keep your paperwork organised, compliant, and free of mistakes.

Be proactive and let OyeExpress manage your import documentation. Be knowledgeable, prepared, and prioritise regulatory compliance. Doing so empowers you to effectively manage the complex documentation, assuring a smoother import procedure and success.

you're a partner in your success with OyeExpress. We can simplify, mitigate hazards, and help you succeed in importing. You can build a successful import business with OyeExpress as your adviser.

Ready to streamline your China imports? Let OyeExpress guide you. Ensure compliance, avoid pitfalls, and embark on a successful import journey. Contact us today

FAQ’s:

Q1: Why is proper documentation important in the importation process?Answer: Proper documentation ensures compliance with import laws, prevents delays, and establishes trust with suppliers.Q2: What is the role of an invoice in importing from China?Answer: An invoice provides a detailed account of purchased items, helping customs calculate taxes and levies.Q3: What information should be included in an invoice when importing from China?Answer: Include product details, price, quantity, and terms of sale on the invoice.Q4: What is a Bill of Lading, and why is it necessary for importing?Answer: The Bill of Lading serves as a receipt and contract, detailing shipment information.Q5: What types of bills of lading are available for importers?Answer: Types include "Straight Bill of Lading," "Order Bill of Lading," and "Bearer Bill of Lading," each offering different levels of control.

Read More: Click Here

[the-firebird69]

This has been used for years on a lot of dirt bikes they don't put it on motorcycles because it's hard to adapt to the gearbox but we're selling a kit mostly we don't want you using this particular motor or motor like it this is a 19 horsepower Briggs & Stratton motor for John Deere lawn tractor it's a lot of horsepower okay and most Yamaha and 250s have 17 horsepower street bike and or Enduro or dirt bike and the torque is out of this world and about 25. It'll get you going very fast on any of the Chinese bikes including street bikes it'll go about 1:50 to 180 depending on your weight it makes a big difference at the top end. Now to adapt it and it is a vertical shaft you have to put it on its side and you have to adapt the shaft which is in the kit it's not an easy job but it's not very difficult is everything fits and then you connect it all up and you bolt it all on and you have one unit that has a typical sprocket of a Chinese bike and all you have to do is mount it so it lines up with the rear sprocket and clears the frame and there's instructions on how to do that and they're basic and the Sun is right you put a series of shims under it that are like the same and they fit inside each other and you just pile it up and until it fits and your mark where it is and you're in business you make a solid brace out of something steal and a lot of people bolt it up and then weld it but a lot of people rent a welder and we suggest a MIG it's almost impossible to mess up and you must use the mask or you'll go blind. It's not a hard install we have the instructions so all those with the rider lawn mowers the smaller ones are the sun had a d10 the smaller ones like D5 have 11.5 horsepower which is plenty it's about 15 foot pounds of torque and it's a riding lawn mower and you have to invert it and there's a kit to fix the tank and the kid to adapt the crank to the Chinese motorcycle crank as a matter of fact you don't have to take it apart and you don't have to reinstall it I take it all back I'm not thinking of the exact situation but I do understand I'm being limited. Now that's not a problem the crank is on the bottom but yeah the shaft is vertical and he says he doesn't know why that would be it's true it's not vertical it's not a difficult fits

It's an easy job if you have the adapter the shaft comes out of the single cylinder motor and it is horizontal it protrudes from the motor about 3 in and it won't fit inside the crankcase where the other motor attaches and it won't seal up against it but we have an adapter piece that does that we have a different shaft and you do have to take the shaft out and you do have to install the new shaft it's actually a lot easier than it sounds and you don't actually take apart the case you do it from the outside and it's not a bolt-on application it actually pulls out but while you unbolt it from the other side no it's inserted and you have to insert the new one correctly he says it's really hard to mess up cuz it just won't fit and then you slide it on after you put on the new case and closure and you bolt it up and you have put oil in it and test it and you have to make sure you seals work on the on the case and on the motor when you slide it on and it's tricky because the side of italic fitting it's not like a seal it has to seal against like an internal casing and it's not a seal you can put goof in either but once you get that done and you crank it down pretty good it won't ever leak and it tells you how many foot pounds and we're tempted to put a and we're going to put in a cheap rated wrench so you can adjust it correctly otherwise it never work.

And it will work with this motor but this motor has a different adapter kit you have to be very specific with the motor number that you have and the bike number you have to go see exact numbers it's better to take a picture of the model numbers and to send it to us that way it will definitely work so it's saying that you can take your dad's ride a lawn mower part and just pull the motor out and when you get the kit and take your motor out and put it in the lawn mower if you can and put this on your dirt bike or motorcycle and with 20 horsepower and 25 foot pounds of torque you'll be going 150 to 180 on a sport bike in about 120 on a dirt bike but really you're going to tear it up it's not even that heavy and it will be a Briggs & Stratton sound and when you put it on a sport bike it sounds really really weird

Thor Freya

[ivyglow]

Mine | Anthony Beauvillier

A/n: this idea came after we had a very sexy- I mean- Angry* Anthony pushing Sidney Crosby. Barbie and some anons send the good energy and so althought it took me forever here it is *cheers*. A huge thank you for @barbienoturbby​ for sending me some specific ideas (sharpies, choking etc hehehe), putting up w my random messages in the middle of the night or being a insecure bitch, ILY BARBIE! Huge shout out to @sebs-aston​ for proofreading this so fast *you’re amazing, liv!*.  PS. More than ever I’m gonna need your feedback because I’m an insecure bitch and this is my first time writing smut (freddie was thigh riding, I don’t consider it too much). So please just lmk if you like it or hate it <3 

Word count: 4k

Warnings: smut, mention of chocke, spitting, oral -female receiving- and all those dirty stuff. 

Summary: after getting angry on the ice, you decide to make Anthony angry in bed too. 

You knew Tito was a dom in bed as soon as you met him: he helped you to sit and to get up on your first date, and he led you to your car with his hand on your lower back. One month into getting to know each other, you were planning a gathering with his friends and he was the one to assign everyone with a task. Some days he would use fewer words and stick with hand gestures or eye contact to tell you what he wanted or what he was silently saying. 

So when you two had sex for the first time and he was on top, you were not surprised, you also weren’t surprised when he asked how would you feel about hair pulling, choking, and tying. And, well, you’d never tried any of this, so you were honest with him, knowing that honesty was the key to make things work. He promised to go slow, and he watched you intently while he did everything just to make sure you were comfortable. You can still remember how it felt when he first stretched you, how your heel went to his back to accommodate his waist better, how this movement gave him the perfect angle to go all the way until the end. 

You also remember the hickeys he left on your skin, mostly on places where your clothes could hide, but some you knew he purposely made for people to see. And people saw, indeed and also heard. He got a noise complaint twice because his old bed would scratch and bang on the wall, and that wouldn’t be a huge problem if it was anyone else, but it was Anthony, a hockey player, at that point -your boyfriend-, and he had the stamina to go for hours. A chug of water, maybe a fruit snack, and less than twenty minutes later he was ready to go again - or he would use these twenty minutes to get you off with his mouth and fingers. So the noise complaint was very much expected. 

Now six months into the relationship, this wasn’t a problem anymore. Tito bought a new bed, and even talked with a friend about the possibility of getting soundproof walls. That’s why you were drinking your water and eating one of his energy bars while watching the game. The dynamic after games was usually very sexual, it didn’t matter if he was on the road or at home, you would find a way to get off, either phone sex or spicy pics. He never left you to your own hands. 

The Isles were playing against the Penguins and you knew he was pissed off because of their losing streak against that team. That made him angry with some specifics players too. When he got home last night, you just cuddled together and went to sleep, he was tired and fuming because of their loss, and he probably heard a handful by his coach. Because of those losses, you knew he was going to skate his way around the ice tonight more than ever, and, especially, that he was angry. 

You were laying on his couch when the game started, the Isles skating around the ice in a way you would have bet was a premonition for another loss, but ten minutes in things started to go differently, and that was the exact moment when you sat and gripped Beau’s shirt before an amazing shot hit the Pens’ net. They kept the rhythm on for the next two periods, although they were pretty much stressful- a handful of times you caught yourself holding your breath or cursing. The last two were also a stage for your boyfriend’s anger. He was pissed in a way you’d never seen before on the ice, and when Sidney Crosby pushed Pulock, Tito had had enough and shoved the opposition’s player on the ice. Torn between finding it hot or funny, you chose the latter letting out a loud laugh. Yet, when another exchange of pushes happened between the Pens’ superstar and Beau you sure felt the heat taking up space inside your body and you shifted on the couch. There was another goal and the game kept on providing stress and anxiety for the fans, but you were stuck on the scene your boyfriend had just put up. 

He was usually like this in bed, but not that much on the ice, and seeing that happening outside the four walls left you with a lingering warmth inside your body, and not the cute warmth you usually felt when he cooked for you or told you how much he loved you. But the warmth you got whenever he bent you on the kitchen counter or held your hand tight while going down on you. 

It was past midnight when you heard the door open and close, the soft click making your heart beat faster. He was home. You heard the thud of his bag on the floor and his steps bringing his scent closer to the living room where you were sitting on the couch wearing only his jersey and his favorite lace.

“Hey you, winner,” your voice echoed in the dimly lit apartment and you could see his lips curling in a small smile.

“Hey, babe,” his lips found yours on a quick peck and you looked up for more contact, but Anthony was already walking to the kitchen. 

“Are you ok?” you asked, barefoot padding the floor until you reached the stool.

Your boyfriend was already busy cutting some bananas in a bowl, “Yeah, just a little stressed with the game and hungry,” he answered.

“But you won,” you stated in confusion. 

His eyes scanned you for a second before going back to his task. The silence was everything you needed to know: he really was not in the mood for long talks after the episode, but you were a woman on a mission and you knew exactly what to do to get Anthony riddled up. 

“You guys had a great game…” you began, cautious with your words and actions, hands reaching for a banana on the fruit bowl. “How was playing against Sidney Crosby?”

You saw how his eyebrows raised slightly before pouring honey on his bowl and whipping his fingers with his tongue. You knew the action wasn’t supposed to be filthy, yet you’ve been dating him long enough to know that he knew every action of his could be seen as sexual at some point. 

“It was normal, he’s a normal hockey player like any of us,” his tone is nonchalant. 

You suppress a grin, “he’s not like any of you, he’s Sidney Crosby. Just last night he reached his thousandth game,” Tito’s now chewing on his fruit and you can see how the motion seems tighter after your words, still you keep going, “he’s like a superstar! I would love to meet him any of these days…” you trail off busying yourself on biting the banana you just peeled off. His eyes trained on how your lips wrap around the piece of fruit, your tongue purposely darting out. Your boyfriend chooses silence again and you huff rolling your eyes. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he queries, eyes on his bowl, jaw still clenched tight while biting another piece of his fruit. You dart your eyes in another direction while biting your banana again, this time without so much care on giving him a hard time. “I asked you a question, y/n,” his tone was sharp and his voice low. You shake your head. 

He grabs his water bottle before chugging half of the content, “Cat got your tongue? I swear I just saw you poking it out while eating that banana to provoke me,” he tauntingly  gives you a defiant look. 

Anthony motions for you to come to him and you follow his orders willingly, eager to finally have your way with him. You’re within arm’s reach when he tugs you closer, making you stumble in the middle of his big thighs. In a blink of an eye, you feel the sting on your butt cheeks, his big hands finding it again one more time before grabbing your chin. “You can’t even wait for your man to eat,” it’s a low grunt and he seems more annoyed with your playful smile, and you see the perfect opportunity to tease him a little bit more, “You could eat something else, there’s nothing stopping you…” 

With that Anthony seems to lose his judgment before swinging your body on top of the counter, “you’re being such a brat tonight” his hands grab your butt squeezing it hard, “that’s not how you get the things you want” 

“No? Then why are you about to fuck me?” you mock him knowing damn right that this would only make him go harder on you. 

“Crisse,” (holy shit) his French accent makes your pussy throb. You loved when he talked in French to you.

His big hand pushes you back in a swift motion, the same hand spreads your legs for him, and it’s only a second before you’re fully laying on the counter. Still wearing only a lace thong and his jersey, you know the former is about to be ripped out of you. Anthony drags his fingers from the bottom of your belly to your breasts before gifting you a devilish smirk as soon as he notices you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You think Sidney Crosby is the superstar, but you know damn well I’m gonna be the reason why you’re seeing stars tonight,” he whispers before sitting on the stool and kissing up to your thighs. His lips are sticky from the honey and because they’re cold it sends chills running through your warm body. You stretch your arms to reach his hair and he hums grabbing your wrists harshly, “no hair pulling for you tonight,” his murmurs hit your skin and you let out a small whine. 

In order to play with your sensations, you see him taking a long gulp of his cold water. You know it will make his mouth colder and slicker, and you know he’s only doing it because he’s planning to spend a long time between your legs.

And that he does.

You sigh when his lips finally reach your pussy, the shock it causes is good and you can’t help but close your thighs in an attempt to bring him where you are really yearning for his lips. Nevertheless, that’s not what he has planned for you, and he drags his mouth between your pussy lips long before finally wrapping his lips on your clit and humming in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck,” you let out a whine when his fingers reach for your nipple and twist it hard. His wet tongue flickered on your clit and he dived in deeper, making you feel all of him, from his stubble that was starting to grow to his full lips, you could feel it all.

“Anthony,” you try to form a sentence in the exact moment he pushs one finger inside of you, but your voice comes out as a prayer. A plea for more. 

You were a sinner for him.

“You taste so good,” it’s a pleasure mumble and it comes just before his palm strikes your butt cheeks in a firm slap. “I could spend days here, bébé” 

“Anthony,” you try again and this time he laughs with his lips still wrapped around your clit. The vibrations send shivers through your whole body, your toes curl and you try to reach for his hair again before his hand holds both of your wrists. 

You’re close and he knows it because he adds another finger and curls it. It’s a ‘come here’ motion and from another dimension, you were almost able to hear him whisper the same words in French. 

“Give it to me,” he demands, and you do as said just as another finger hits your right spot. For some seconds the kitchen’s ceiling turns black with dots and your vision goes blurry. Toes curling, the pitch on your belly button finally making its way out just like the curses and moans that leave your mouth. Most of them being his name and how good he makes you feel. 

You’re not even done with your high when his big hands grab your ankles bringing your body to the edge of the counter and making you sit. “Open your mouth,” he demands. 

You moan, eyes rolling back from pleasure, “put your tongue out for me, má chérie,” his hands, now holding your jaw, tighten around you. There’s a whimper of bliss and you part your lips wide bringing your tongue out just like demanded before he spits on your mouth. 

“See how good you taste?!” Anthony hums and you swallow it before poking your tongue out again and licking from his glistering chin to his lips. The action fuels a passionate kiss and it’s seconds before your weak legs wrap themselves around his waist bringing him closer. Your core finds the bulge on his pants and you whimper feeling aroused again. 

Your boyfriend is fast to grasp the underside of your thighs bringing your body close to his before making his way towards the bedroom. You take your time licking and kissing his neck and jaw until your body hits the mattress and he’s unbuckling his belt.

“Take it off” he commands, unbuttoning his dress shirt. You’re fast to obey taking off the jersey you’re wearing, now you’re fully naked in front of him. 

“Hands,” you put both of your wrists together and he fastens his belt around it tight. 

From the way his eyebrows were slightly up to his lips parted, you knew he was about to give you another orgasm, you knew that he wasn’t done and he wouldn’t be any time soon. 

“Do we have a safe word tonight, bébé?” his full lips find your jaw and neck and he nibbles on your ear before sucking harshly on your neck again. 

His purpose is to mark you, not only where people can see, but also where they can’t. Just like your waist is being held with such fierceness, you know it’ll leave prints there. You hum a yes dropping your head to the side so he can have more access to your skin, “use your words, you know I need to hear you say it,” he whispers now bringing his mouth to your nipples and biting it lightly. You whimper, “our safe word is blue.” 

“Perfect,” you can feel his smile on your skin and when you reach for his hair with your hands tied, he pushes them up. His strong arm swings on top of your belly and he takes his time on your breasts before making his way lower. There’s a pitch bubbling on your belly again just with the idea of it and he gives you mischievous grim kissing and licking your thighs. 

“Beau,” you whine already feeling your legs weakening again.

“I told you I was hungry, you were the one who suggested the meal,” the funny remark is accompanied by a flicker of his tongue on your cunt. “Now I’ll only stop when I’m satisfied.” 

You curse closing your hands and trying to bring your waist up. He shakes his head, “huh huh, that’s a bad girl attitude,” he spits on your pussy and you moan loud, “and you know exactly what we do to bad girls in this house, don’t you?” 

You nod and he chuckles.

“Words.” 

“I know, sir.” 

“Now, there’s my good girl,” he praises finding your clit and holding it carefully between his teeth, “now give it to me just like you suggested,” he murmurs before diving on your pussy, his tongue gentle and slow, in contrast with his solid arm pinning you to the bed and his rough behavior. 

It would be a long ride and you would feel every step taken, because each one would bring you closer to the inevitable. You felt urgency though; you wanted him to fuck your brains out already. But Anthony took his time, and you knew he was being good because he let you cum in the kitchen even after you provoked him. When his point finger entered you, your eyes couldn’t focus and you knew you were closer, yet instead of giving you a release, your boyfriend took his kisses to your thighs grinning at you one more time. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he speaks under his breath, eyes trained on your pussy. Yet you don’t feel ashamed, because it’s Anthony, and he knows you like the back of his hands, he knows what to do to make you comfortable and he knows how to make you feel good. He would praise and love your body rightly, so you let him. You spread your legs wider and gave him a lopsided smile. 

“Please,” you plead again that night; however, he follows your request this time. 

Anthony dives in again, licking and spitting, flickering his tongue and using his fingers. Giving you what he got and what he knows you like. Your body is fast to answer, your waist trying to go higher to find his mouth, your toes curling, your head shooting back and your eyes rolling. 

He got you there. Fast.

And he made sure to ride you out of you high, this tongue not the least careful with your sensitive bud, while cleaning you up he kept licking it lightly. Full lips brushing it with dedication. 

“Now I want you on all fours,” there’s a dirty smile on his glistering lips and you hold back another moan with the image of Anthony sitting between your legs, face glowing with your cum, “allos y,” (c’mon). You turn your body, holding your hands before supporting your head on the pillows, ass up for him.

There’s the noise of a slap and the sting on your butt cheeks, right before a soft kiss is placed on top of the surely red mark. His hands roam around your body and you shiver when he grabs your hair. “Crisse, tu as l'air si chaud,” (holy shit, you look so hot) Anthony slaps you booty again and finally slips his finger at your entrance feeling your wetness pool around. You’re already ready for him again and he seems pleased with the realization. So pleased it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside of you hitting just the right spot. Your body shots upward and he holds you by your waist keeping your butt bent. 

“Anthony,” you moan loudly when he starts moving ruthlessly inside of you. There’s something hot about how his body is being aggressive and you are taking it all, how his hips are almost knocking your body down, “right - fucking - there,” you whine and he keeps going, this time grabbing your hair and making your body lean towards him. 

“Whose name are you screaming tonight, bébé?” he mumbles bending his own body on top of yours without completely letting go of the position. 

“Yours,” your answer between groans. 

“Let me hear you” 

And you do.

You say his name out loud and clear, and you’re almost sure the neighbors are going to hear it. Yet you do it again and again while the sound of your voice is mixed with the noise of his skin hitting your skin and his feral grunts. He’s big and hard inside you and every time he goes out to get inside again you can feel your pussy stretching out to accommodate him. 

“Beau,” you moan and he chuckles leaning his body down to kiss your back. You see from the corner of your eyes when he finds the black marker on the top of your drawer, you can almost see his head working on ideas, and then he’s grabbing the sharpie you were using to write on your sticky notes earlier today. 

His body is straight up again and his movements are now slower, as he unclasps the marker and you feel its cold material hit your skin. There’s a long up and then down movement, you’re almost sure it’s an M, and then there’s a harsh line of an I, you can hear his grunts louder and he stops himself for a second before shooting his body towards yours again. The sharpie finds your skin again, this time to draw an N, you knew he was doing it big, not only for his eyes, but for you to feel and to know exactly what it was as he wrote the last letter, an E. 

You roll your eyes when he closes and throws the sharpie somewhere in the room before leaving another one of his blows on your butt cheeks. Anthony swings his arm around your torso bringing you up to him, your back hitting his solid chest, “you’re mine,” and that’s what it takes for you to come undone on his still hard cock. Your whole body trembles and your vision goes blurry again, there are tears in your eyes, and this time your moans turn into screams of satisfaction. 

He keeps fucking you through your high and you curse dropping your head back on his shoulder. His hand sneaks in front of your body to touch your sensitive clit, and you hold it sinking your nails on his skin. “Oh fuck,” he grunts drawing his finger deeper. You’re not sure if your body can’t take so much pleasure.

“Let me ride you,” it’s a prayer, a plea, a cry, and you can feel his lips on your neck before your bodies are turned and you’re on top taking him deeper, touching new spots. 

“That’s it, bébé,” he praises you and you roll your hips using your last energies. His hands find their way to your thighs and his short nails dig on your skin bringing you impossibly closer. There’s a deep grunt from him and a small whine from you. It’s hard for your eyes to focus, and you use your body to pin his down and your tied hands find his neck before squeezing it. His hips shot up under you and you scream, tightening your grip on him and squeezing his dick inside of you. 

You can feel another knot on the pitch of your belly, but this time it feels different to recognize this new sensation. That’s when you notice the wetness under you dripping onto his cock to his belly button and in the bed. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “Oh shit, you’re squirting,” his big hands go to your back and he keeps shooting his hips up to meet your pussy, “that’s it, bébé, give it to me once more,” and you’re squeezing him one last time before giving both of you a mind-blowing orgasm. Your body tumbles on top of his and this time things go pitch black instead of blurry. You can still feel his hot body under you and his rapid heartbeat, but your body is fluttering and there’s nothing in front of you. There’s only his body. There’s only your boyfriend existing under you with his cock still deep inside of you. 

It’s seconds before his caresses on your back become some kind of poking, “y/n?” 

“Huh?” you mumble, your voice raspy. He chuckles.

“Fuck, you passed out,” he sounds proud and you giggle. 

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had,” you confess without finding the strength to move your hands and caress him back, but Anthony keeps the tip of his fingers moving softly around your body, “I think I should talk more about Sidney Crosby, huh?” you joke and his hips shot upward making you moan Anthony’s name. Although he just came, he’s still hard and deep inside your soaked pussy.

“What were you saying?” he questions with a smug grin. “I think you were saying something about a certain player, Sidney Crosby maybe?” 

You arch your eyebrows, “who’s Sidney Crosby? I only know Anthony Beauvillier,” and he laughs at your answer before kissing your lips softly. You know there’s gonna be a time for water and a fruit snack later and then he’s going again, because he’s never done until you’re completely wrecked, the only name able to escape your lips being his. 

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[nobodyfamousposts]

Helluva Deal (Miraculous X Helluva Boss)

Well, since Miraculous crossovers with Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel are a thing now, I figured I’d write my own on how I think it would likely go. Since this IS the Helluva Boss universe, expect mentions of death and the afterlife, allusions to violence, innuendos, and general inappropriateness:

“Let me get this straight.”

Blitzo stared down the demon before him.

Said demon simply looked back, unimpressed. The little thing was small with blue skin, dorky-looking round glasses, and uneven horns. It wasn’t even a notable demon. Just a random weaker demon who somehow got the funds to pay for their services.

And normally, Blitzo was hardly one to turn down money—or a job that offered money. But this…

“You want to pay us to kidnap someone from Earth—not murder, which is in our company’s name, but kidnap. Which is decidedly more difficult and less fun.”

“Yep.”

Blitzo steepled his fingers together and held them up to his face. “And you want this person kidnapped—not so you can kill her yourself for whatever issue you may have, but because you want her to make you a jacket.”

“Yep.”

“A plain old jacket you could just get anywhere here in Hell.”

The demon gasped in offense. “It’s not just ANY jacket! It’s an MDC original piece and I want one!”

Blitzo took a breath, getting the feeling he was going to regret this. 

“Why?”

This…made the demon pause and eventually shrug. “Well, I did say I would have died for an MDC jacket. And I’m dead now, so…gimme.”

Well, who was he to argue with that logic?

Although…

“That is going to require quite a bit more effort…” He started, obviously leading…

The demon gave a flat look. “I’m not paying you double. I need the rest to pay her for the jacket.”

“Why would you want to pay for it?” Blitzo demanded. “This is Hell! You’re a demon! Just steal one!”

“It’s a commission! I have to pay for it!”

Blitzo would have spit out his drink if he’d had one.

“What are you even in Hell for, anyway? You won’t kill. You won’t steal. You just want to pay some human for a jacket you could get anywhere. What’s the point of that?” He asked, giving the other demon a strange look because really, what kind of demon WANTED to pay for things?

The demon stared flatly at Blitzo, his tail flicking against the chair in apparent increasing agitation.

"Are you saying that a commission shouldn't be paid for?” The demon asked curiously, sounding a little...too polite. “Because the last guy who tried to skip out on paying for a commission died. Eyes stabbed out and everything. Do you want to risk that kind of thing happening to you?"

…

Blitzo paled.

“Oh.”

The silence lingered to the point of long past uncomfortable as the demon continued to wait for an answer and Blitzo’s not so subtle attempt to desperately press his secret security button under his desk had no effect.

This would turn out to be because of Loona disconnecting the thing due to her hangover. Though in the moment, Blitzo would choose to blame Moxie.

After a good minute of no response from his team, Blitzo started to sweat when the determined artist demon seemed to grow bored and pulled out a pencil.

He jumped to his feet.

“We’ll take the case!”

And immediately fled the room.

_______

Once on Earth, the problem came up rather quickly that they had no idea who MDC was or how to access them. The client only knew the target was a fashion designer in Paris, which narrowed it down to one city at least but still was little help when the city in question was one of the fashion capitals of the world.

Blitzo, naturally, took the lead in trying to work out a means of information gathering.

And by “naturally”, what was really meant was “horribly failing”.

“I’m telling you, the plan is foolproof. We hold someone for ransom until MDC trades herself.” Blitzo said with apparent glee.

“Sir, that would be the exact opposite of subtle and get us the wrong kind of attention!”

Moxie, for his part, was trying to come up with what he would call “sensible plans”. Millie was simply scouting the area while the two argued. Ever faithful Loona stayed behind to try using her own connections…a magazine.

Needless to say, Blitzo was the one carrying the team. Or at least in his not-so-humble opinion.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any plans, Moxie.”

The smaller demon gave his boss a disgruntled glare. “I already told you! We should just go back and ask the client for more information!”

“Hmm…” Blitzo paused, before pulling out his phone. “Hey, Loona. The client still in my office?”

“Yeup.”

Blitzo immediately closed the phone. “Yeah—nope.”

“Sir—”

“He gouged a guy’s eyes out, Moxie! I need my eyes! I’m too pretty to lose them! They frame my face!” Blitzo exclaimed, bringing his hands up to his head in a fit of dramatics. “Is that what you want, Moxie? Do you want me to lose my precious, precious eyes?”

Moxie stared at the man like he was insane. Granted, Moxie had long had doubts about his boss’s sanity, but still...

“Hey, fellas?” Millie called, interrupting the two as she waved them over to the side of the building they had set up a temporary base atop of. “Listen to this!”

Blitzo immediately headed over, with Moxie following along behind looking annoyed. As they got closer, they heard what Millie had called them over about. Blitzo leaned over and peeked into the room in question.

Below them was an open window of the building where apparently a number of teenagers were gathered within for some inexplicable reason. And in this specific room, a group of the teens were gathered around one particular girl with a large forehead and hair that appeared to be made of meat. It was this girl who had their attention.

“—really friends with MDC?” One short blonde asked, looking overly excited like Blitzo did when he got a paycheck.

“Of course!” The meat-girl replied, looking smug. “We go way back! I was even the one who encouraged him to start in fashion and inspired his Heroes line.”

Blitzo looked back up at his team. “I thought MDC was a girl?”

Moxie shrugged. “If no one knows their real identity who's to say if they're a boy or a girl?"

“What else are they saying?” Millie asked, which returned the focus to the room.

More talking from below, using words that none of the demons really understood or cared about.

“—which was why he even made the Fox outfit for me!”

“Wasn’t that design based on Rena Rouge rather than Volpina?” One other girl with blue hair asked from the doorway of the room. She appeared to be rather annoyed for some odd reason.

The meat-girl looked somber. “Well, that was before he had to change it. After all, as bold as he is, not many people would support an akuma line, even if he had kept my idea to donate the funds to charity for the victims.”

The group “oo”-ed over the girl and praised her for her thoughtfulness. The meat-girl preened at the attention. The bluenette rolled her eyes. Some other blond guy looked on in disappointment.

“How amazing!” The little blonde exclaimed, clasping her hands to her cheeks. “I’d love to be able to meet MDC!”

“So would we!”

All eyes fell to the window which Blitzo, Millie, and Moxie used to make their entrance.

Honestly, he thought it was one of his better displays of dramatics. It certainly warranted some applause. Or screams of fear. Maybe one fainting.

“Akuma!”

Honestly, he was rather disappointed by the underwhelming response.

“I know we're demons and all, but I thought this place was French, not Japanese!"

“Nevermind that.” Blitzo replied to his workers before stepping forward to face the students.

Or rather one student in particular.

“Greetings! I am Blitzo. The two behind me are Millie and Moxie.”

The class stared as one of the two glared at them while the other waved cheerfully—or would be considered cheerfully if her teeth weren’t so razor sharp.

“We represent IMP, a for-hire group out of Hell. We take contracts, complete tasks, and make wishes come true!”

The teens looked at the demons in wariness and confusion.

“That sounds nice…” The little blonde in pink said.

“Those wishes generally involve murder.”

“I take it back! That sounds horrible!”

Blitzo grinned. “We are the ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’, dealing with the unfinished business of those poor wretched souls who are seeking some small vindication in their current status in Hell.”

“Then…why are you here?” The bigger male demanded.

Blitzo ignored him in favor of his true target.

“You! Ugly girl!” He shouted, grabbing the meat-girl.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, insulted.

He shook her. “Take us to MDC and we’ll rip out those sausage-links you call hair!”

“…don’t you mean ‘or’?”

He grinned ferally.

“No.”

She shrieked in fear.

“Lila!” Others cried out in horror.

Ah, yes. There was the fear. This, Blitzo was good with. It made him feel better about the previous lackluster response to his entrance.

“Why do you want me?!” The girl—Lila shouted, looking panicked. “I don’t know where MDC is!”

He raised an eyebrow at this. “But you said you were friends.”

She glanced around, taking note of the fact that her cohorts were still in the room. Though he didn’t know why that should matter for her answer.

“We are! But…I don’t know where he lives now! He’s moved since his name got out there and hasn’t given me the address yet!”

A glasses-wearing girl frowned in confusion. “But didn’t you just say that he invited you to his house for fittings?”

“Yeah, you said it was for the latest line that just came out.” Another girl with multi-colored hair added.

“That was months ago. Before he moved.” Lila replied quickly. “So I can’t help you.”

“Sure, you can!” Blitzo replied jovially. “We can just use you as ransom until MDC agrees to hand himself over.”

Moxie approached the two, keeping his gun leveled at the other kids. “We can save some time and see if she can’t call him.”

“Hey, yeah!” Millie agreed, grabbing Lila’s bag off of her and searching for her phone. “If they’re friends, she’s gotta have his contact info!”

“It’s not in there!” Lila replied quickly. “I was worried someone would steal my phone to get his info so I don’t keep his number in my phone!”

Millie frowned, before holding the now open phone up to Lila. “Then just type in the number yourself.”

Lila glanced around the room in growing agitation. “I can’t! I don’t have it memorized!”

“Then where did you write it down?”

“I lost it!”

The demons were looking particularly vexed.

“When and where?”

“It was a while ago. I don’t know where.” Lila replied.

A girl with glasses looked at her in confusion. “But didn’t you say you just called him this morning to congratulate him on the new line? And that he promised you a free outfit as thanks for all your help?”

Lila paled. “I—”

“Then the number should still be in the phone under its call history.” Moxie noted. Millie grinned and looked back to the phone screen to look through the data.

“I deleted it right after!” Lila shouted desperately.

Millie looked up at her in irritation.

Then promptly crushed the phone in her grip.

Lila shrieked, though it would be up for debate as to whether it was in shock at the loss of her phone or in fear that she may soon share that same fate.

Blitzo seemed similarly put out, but ended up shrugging it off as he pulled Lila closer to him. “Then it’s back to Plan A to hold her for ransom. Or torture her to see if she can’t remember the details.”

“No, please!”

“Lila!”

“Let her go!”

Lila grabbed at the arm holding her, panicked but not enough beyond reasoning. She couldn’t afford to reveal she lied now. She could only hope that these monsters would take her somewhere private where she could manipulate them with less witnesses.

Marinette, for her part, was also analyzing the situation.

These were three unknowns. Definitely not akumas. If they were to be believed, they were actual demons. From Hell. Which existed, apparently. And was where Lila would likely find herself in the next hour if she kept this up.

But from Lila’s expression, it seemed she was insistent on staying tight-lipped about her lies. Marinette figured as much due to her history. But she would have thought that Lila would have had some measure of self-preservation. Though perhaps that only applied to the preservation of her lies and manipulations rather than her own well being.

It was clear that Lila wasn’t going to get herself out of this. Not in any way that would spare her and everyone else in the room, at any rate.

As it was, the classmates were about to rally in Lila’s defense. While they had stood their own against akumas in the past,Marinette didn’t want to see how well they would fare against demons. Nor did she want to have to test if the Miraculous Cure would be enough to fix whatever would be left of them if they tried.

Marinette looked to the doorway.

No one was paying any attention to her right now. She could escape. She could go out, find a place to transform, and come back to deal with these…demons.

But by the time she returned, who was to say what could happen. The demons could kill Lila. They could kill all of her friends for being witnesses.

Ladybug may not be able to fix this.

But Marinette…as Marinette, she could.

“I’m MDC.” Marinette admitted.

Everyone froze.

“Come again.”

“MDC.” Marinette enunciated. “It stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My name. I’m MDC. I’m the one you want.”

Alya stared. “Girl?”

Moxie looked at her in consideration. “That would fit with the client’s report of MDC being female.”

Millie, frowned in suspicion. “How do we know she’s really MDC?”

Marinette took a breath and slowly pulled out her tablet. “Well, my signature is in the clothes, so if you’ll let me pull up one of the shots, I can point it out and—”

Blitzo cut her off, grabbing her arm. “Yeah, I think we’ll just take you both and let the client sort it out. Sound good? Good, because we’re leaving.”

“Bye all!” Millie said, waving to the group. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

Moxie rolled his eyes. “That’s a pretty short list…”

Blitzo ignored them an opened a portal, dragging both girls after him. Without a glance back, both Millie and Moxie followed him through the portal. Before anyone else could move, the gateway closed behind them.

A long pause followed.

“Not so fast!”

Suddenly, the door was kicked open as Chat Noir burst into the room.

The much less enemy-filled room.

“Um…did I miss the party?”

_______

The room they soon found themselves appeared, for all intents and purposes, completely normal. It looked like an office of the sort they’d find anywhere in Paris. Complete with a secretary’s desk, a few chairs, and a table littered with magazines.

The difference was made quickly apparent, however, through the view out the window. The landscape the deceptively quaint room was mostly a collage of red and black, with a sunless sky above and a myriad of strange buildings. Also of note where the various denizens of…distinctly non-human appearance wandering the streets outside.

“All right, ladies! Welcome to Hell!” Blitzo announced with a flourish, causing the girls to pale.

Lila fell back with a screech, landing on her butt and immediately attempting to scuttle back away. Her path was quickly halted as she bumped into something. Looking up, that “something” was actually a wolf monster, making Lila panic even further.

Loona, for her part, was not having a good morning—ignoring, of course, that it was actually the afternoon. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that her hangover still hadn’t cleared, now some…thing had shoved into her, followed shortly by an ear-piercing shriek that only made her head feel worse.

Seeing the way the wolf demon growled, Lila opened her mouth, possibly to scream even more when Marinette quickly shoved a hand over her mouth with a smile to Loona.

“Oh my! Your hairstyle is quite lovely!” She lied. Blatantly lied to the wolf girl’s face.

“It’s bed-head.”

“I couldn’t even tell. It looks so sleek and shiny!”

“Whatever.” Loona grumbled and stormed off to the break room, slamming the door behind her (and then immediately regretting it due to the noise agitating her headache).

Marinette decided to take the initiative. “So…what do you want with us, anyway?”

“Our client paid us a pretty penny—”

“Basic contract.” Moxie interrupted.

“Pretty. Penny.” Blitzo continued as if he hadn’t heard. “For a chance to meet with MDC.”

Okay, they had mentioned that before.

“Then what?”

“If you are MDC, you can do whatever the client is wanting. If you’re not, you’ll at least make for a decent distraction while we escape and blow up the building.”

The humans in the room blanched at that.

“WHAT?!”

“I know. She was a beautiful building.” Blitzo said mournfully as he actually wiped a tear from his eye. “And I just got my office arranged how I like it, too. But it

Marinette stared.

Lila whimpered.

“I second that ‘what’.” Moxie interrupted. “Nobody at any point discussed blowing up the building!”

“It was on page 3 of the handout I gave you this morning, Moxie.” Blitzo exclaimed, covering his eyes in exasperation. “At least read the mission briefings!”

“Sir, the ‘handout’ was a paper napkin. There was no third page!” Moxie insisted.

Beside him, Millie for her part was looking over the aforementioned napkin for the part that was supposed to mention the circumstances in question…or really any of the plan.

“We’ll discuss it later.” Blitzo said over his shoulder to Moxie as he proceeded to grab both human girls and drag them over to a previously closed door.

“Hey wait—!”

“Hang on!”

Within seconds, Blitzo opened the door and proceeded to shove both girls through before slamming it shut behind them, the last thing they heard being him mentioning where to buy explosives.

_______

So.

Recap.

Hell was real. Demons were a thing. And the two human girls were getting a first hand view of the less than pleasant or holy side of the afterlife.

Marinette was…actually taking it all in stride.

Lila was less so. She was sitting ramrod straight in the chair, keeping a tight grip on her knees and trying very hard not to move as her eyes glanced quickly around the room at the assembled demons.

Marinette actually felt bad for her. And probably should have been panicking herself, all things considered. Maybe she would have been had it not been for her extensive experience as Ladybug.

Sure, it was Hell, but floating gods and people turning into monsters had already broadened her horizons of the possibilities of the universe. Plus despite the name of the company that had kidnapped them both, murder didn’t appear to be on the table. All in all, despite the circumstances, Marinette didn’t feel that scared.

The fact that the “client” in question who hired the group was actually a fan of hers wanting a commission helped quite a bit with that.

As did the flattery.

“OMG! OMG! I can’t believe it! It’s you! Can I get your autograph?! No—wait! I need to focus! Can I get a jacket with your autograph?!”

“Thank you.” Marinette said, somewhat flustered. Honestly, she hadn’t thought she had gained THAT much fame. Especially not enough for someone to want to commission her from the afterlife.

…was that a thing? Could that be a thing?

“What I don’t get is why the other girl had to tag along?” The demon asked, curiously. “Is she your assistant or something?”

Lila brightened, looking ready to speak—likely to try to lie her way out of this. Or mess up what little peace Marinette had managed to create.

“No!” Marinette interrupted quickly, ignoring Lila’s petulant glare. “No, she’s not. There was just a mix up since they didn’t know where I was or who to bring.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Well, how were we supposed to know?!”

“You could have asked me when I contracted you.” Said the demon, somewhat annoyed.

“I have a website, you know.” Said Marinette, very annoyed.

They paused.

“…the fuck’s a website?”

Silence.

Marinette coughed. “In any case, you wanted to commission me?”

“Oh, yes!”

_______

It didn’t take long to make the arrangements. Marinette named her prices and the demon was more than willing to pay her for her services. They made use of Blitzo’s office to negotiate and fine tune some details regarding the arrangement. From determining the materials to writing up the contract to negotiating the costs, it was all pretty professional.

And ultimately involved the humans not being murdered and the building not being blown up, which was always preferable.

It finally came down to determining just how the demon customer wanted the jacket to look, and Marinette started drawing out some sample sketches on spare paper in the office that may or may not have been important documents for Blitzo which she may or may not have particularly cared given the whole “kidnapping and being used as a sacrifice” matter.

The only issue seemed to be that the demon customer wanted the jacket to be made of materials that were only available in Hell. Which made sense, she supposed, since she wasn’t sure how long anything she made on Earth would last in this environment. Millie and Moxie had been sent out to gather the necessary material in question, and what they returned with was a strange sort of leather. It was unique and of a color she had never seen before, and part of her really wanted to get a bit more detail about the make.

…given how pale Lila had already gotten, Marinette kindly decided to refrain from asking questions.

“Well then, let’s go over a few sketches and determine which one you like.”

The demon looked almost giddy at the prospect. The IMP team looked relieved. Except Blitzo, who still seemed to be pouting over their takeover of his office.

Lila was…less enthused. “WHAT?! What are you thinking?! He’s a demon!”

Marinette shrugged. “Well, I do have a non-discrimination clause.”

“That shouldn’t apply to demons!” Lila hissed lowly.

“The demons who have brought us to Hell and are currently our only way of getting back.” Marinette pointed out, dryly.

Lila huffed and went back to her chair.

So, with Blitzo and his team begrudgingly kindly being forced willing to donate their office for her use, Marinette sent to work to try and design a jacket to the client’s taste as quickly as possible.

The sooner she got done, the sooner they could go back to Earth.

…hopefully.

Lila, for her part, was terrified and miserable and just wanting to go back to Earth. Immediately would be preferable. Even without Marinette.

Yeah, thanks Lila.

“Why do I have to stay here? Why can’t I go back home? Or do anything else?”

The client tilted his head. “Are you saying you don’t like art? Because the last person who told me they didn’t like art had their eyes stabbed out. With pencils. Would you want that to happen to you?”

“…can’t I like art and not stay in Hell?”

“No.”

Lila paled and sunk lower in her seat, where she remained quiet for the next couple of hours while Marinette worked.

It was mostly in silence as Marinette drew one sketch after another. Asking occasional questions about preferred length, how many pockets, special embellishments, and which parts of the various jacket styles did he prefer. Eventually, they had come to an agreement about the set look he wanted, the materials needed, and when he wanted it completed by. And from there came the matter of payment…

“Um…I’m not sure what the exchange rate is for Hell currency.” Marinette said, looking at the coins he handed her.

The demon frowned, tilting his head in consideration. “I could always rob a human bank and pay you with that.”

Marinette paled.

“This is fine. Really. I can probably buy some things from Hell with this.” She said with a forced smile.

“There are tons of things you can only find here.” Millie said, brightening. “We could deliver them for you!”

Well, that was a good point.

“That’s true.” Moxie agreed. “You could make other things with the fabrics here. Hats. Shirts.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder at Millie who was busy chatting with the customer regarding the fabric he chose. Seeing she was suitably distracted, he turned to Marinette. “So…how much would it be to make a dress. Just out of curiosity.”

Aww. Even in Hell there was love.

She smiled. “We can certainly discuss it.”

The moment was ruined as Blitzo stepped in and slung an arm around Marinette’s shoulder.

“How about one of those sexy maid outfits for the bedroom? You’re French, right?” He asked before giving Moxie a nudge. “You could stand to have a little more fun in the bedroom.”

“Sir, I’m 14.” Marinette replied dryly.

“And what we do in the bedroom is none of your business!” Moxie rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t we just have a discussion about this last week?”

Marinette coughed as the two started to argue. “So…um…are we going to return to Earth so I can start working on this?”

Blitzo sighed. “Fine, fine. Killjoys.”

Lila heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.”

_______

With an agreement forged between Marinette and IMP to have the customer’s order completed and delivered within two week’s time, Marinette and Lila were safely deposited back in their classroom no worse for wear.

…well, physically. Mentally, there were probably going to be a few scars.

Several of their classmates had apparently remained since the earlier incident. Perhaps it was out of worry? Or maybe classes had resumed after their disappearance—akuma attacks and strange circumstances had become rather common, after all.

Still, it was Alya’s cry of surprise and then being pulled into a hug that assured Marinette she was, in fact, back home.

“You’re back!” Alya exclaimed, relieved. “We were so worried!”

It wasn’t every day your best friend and classmate was dragged to Hell, after all.

“—and I’d been trying to reach out to Ladybug and Chat Noir, but only Chat showed up and Ladybug must be busy or maybe she already knew? Did she help you? How did you escape?”

Part of her wondered if Alya had even stopped to breathe. The rest of her was just basking in the happiness that they had made it back safe and nothing too terrible had happened in the meantime.

The absolute LAST thing she needed was to come back and find out Hawk Moth had let loose another akuma that destroyed Paris while she was gone.

Alya suddenly gasped as though struck by a thought.

“Oh my god, Marinette! I can’t believe you did that!”

Marinette smiled. “Well, I had to—”

“You claimed to be MDC just to protect Lila! And here I thought you hated her!”

Happy feeling gone. Gone like a punch to the face. Knocked out. Dead, even.

Alya beamed. “I’m so proud of you, girl! I knew deep down that—”

“Nope!” Came a quick interruption. “That’s not what happened. It was just a lie. Completely and utterly.”

The interruption was half expected.

The fact that it came from Lila was not.

Everyone froze.

“What?”

“I never met MDC.” Lila explained, wasting absolutely no time with subtleties and just blurting it out. “I never knew Marinette was MDC. I just lied about knowing him because I thought he was the next big thing and I knew you would all believe me.”

“…what?”

Lila sighed. “I lied about knowing MDC. And being the muse behind his fashion line—well, hers. Since Marinette is MDC. She never lied. I did.”

The classmates were startled, but seemed to be taking in the information.

Rose, for her part, tried to be positive. “Oh...well, you didn’t have to lie about knowing MDC—”

“No, I mean about everything. Ever. In fact, there’s probably not a single time we’ve known each other that I was ever honest with any of you.”

Everyone stared.

“I’ve been lying since the moment we’ve met.” Lila continued. “I am a liar. Always have been. I am a horrible lying liar who lied about everyone I ever claimed to know and everything I ever said I did just to get you all to admire me because it was easier to manipulate you that way and get you to do things I wanted. From interviewing me for the Ladyblog to carrying my lunch tray to buying me things. I lied about having tinnitus just to get to sit next to Adrien and lied about not being interested in him to manipulate Nino into guilting him into letting me come to his house. Ladybug herself even called me out for lying. And when Marinette got upset that day I came back over the seat change? I threatened her in the bathroom because she was wise to me from the very start.”

A few stares were sent Marinette’s way. She didn’t have any explanation for them though. She was just as surprised as they were. More, even.

Lila shrugged. “Everything I’ve said. Everything I’ve done. All lies. Ever.”

Everyone gaped in shock. Nobody even really knew what to say.

Marinette started. “But why—”

“Because that was Hell, Marinette. HELL. The bad place you go to after you die, reserved for bad people. And until today, I didn’t even think it was real. Or that there could be a chance I could end up there. But I imagine if anything would warrant that, it’d be lying, manipulating, and trying to get revenge on a superhero.”

Nino blinked. “Wait…what was that last one—”

As if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders, Lila sighed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go join a convent to try and save my soul now that I know I have one.”

With that, she promptly exited the room, leaving the group staring after her in complete bewilderment.

Alya gaped. “...what?”

_________

Epilogue: 

Marinette completed her commission to the demon and later for Moxie. Her fame increased in both realms and she eventually did open up her own design house. The only issue came in the customers who wanted to pay her by removing her competition, which she was mostly able to prevent until IMP took a hit on Gabriel Agreste. While Marinette did stop the attempted murder, this did still reveal his secondary identity of Hawk Moth, allowing the Butterfly and Peacock to be recovered and peace to return to Paris.

The classmates were shocked at the reveal of Lila’s true nature, but were more bewildered than anything given how it happened. They did all feel foolish and embarrassed for trusting Lila, but considering what could have happened, they all chose to take it as a life lesson to be more cautious in the future. They all remained friends and moved on to live quite fulfilling lives.

IMP formed a contract with MDC and gained a secondary job of delivery service as well as assassins, which increased their profits.

And Millie loved her new dress.

Lila Rossi convinced her mother to send her to a convent, where she became one of the most pious and devout members, spreading the message of being good in life more than any other.

[onebizarrekai]

v3′s art is comically terrible for a professionally distributed game in a series: a compilation

in this not-essay I will list all of the mistakes and problems I have spotted in v3′s art. don’t worry, it’s entirely for fun and I’m doing this on a whim, so please feel free to not take this seriously but also it’s hilarious and embarrassing how ridiculous this is like what happened did they speedrun the whole production or what

see, there are some things you can take as meta like “they made it bad on purpose to allude to the downfall of tv shows that have been on air for much too long” but I have a very strong feeling this is not the case due to the nature of some of these errors

disclaimer, the more I study this art, the more I fear that the artists were underpaid and underslept, so if this is in fact the case, I am so sorry to all of them but also I’m going to make fun of the art anyway

anyway let’s get started!

if you study this image for longer than 5 seconds, you will see that kaede is the only one fully shaded and keebo is literally just his normal sprite pasted into the image. every other character is just an ordinary ref, hence most of them facing the exact same direction with neutral expressions on their faces. it looks like a bad edit, and is probably one of the worst pieces of art in the game. it kind of gets better from here on, but my roasting will not.

with that out of the way, here’s the problem that officially bothers me the most and clarifies my viewpoint of “this is not meta and an actual lack of company communication”

this freaking cg, which seems normal at a glance, but some wiseass was like “oh, kaede is a girl, so obviously she’s going to be shorter than the Male Protagonist™” ah, that’s funny. because if you look at the character bios, kaede is, in fact, one inch taller than shuichi and not like 6 inches shorter as she is shown here.

also shuichi’s shoulder is disproportionate and horrendous and he looks vaguely like a jojo character, but I wasn’t even thinking about that until right now.

thanks guys, 50% of the fandom who has never bothered to check these bios thinks that kaede is like 5′3 (did the developers really put so little thought into her to the point where drawing her correctly in the game didn’t even matter??)

also I would like to point out that, even though this isn’t related to the art itself, yes, a character kaede’s size being only 117 lbs is unfeasible, but this applies to literally every character in danganronpa ever and it’s not new news that it’s unrealistic

update: someone in the tags informed me that in versions of the game that use centimeters, like the japanese version, kaede is actually shorter than shuichi, which just adds another thing to the list of weird decisions the localization team made for no reason. that said, after confirming this, kaede is 167 cm in the original, while shuichi is 171 cm, which are approximately 5′6 and 5′7 respectively, but one inch is still nowhere near as drastic as it is depicted above. (in spite of this, I would rather depict kaede as slightly taller, so I’m probably going to keep doing that.)

the journey continues!

bro if you want kaede to have shoulder length hair then stick to it to begin with

you can pretend this is at an angle all you want but they definitely committed the shorter kaede sin a second time

wait a goddamn second.

DO YOU SEE THIS

no………… it wasn’t kaede who shrank. it was shuichi who got taller

speaking of which, can we talk about how shady the perspective is in this elevator pic? look at shuichi and kokichi in comparison to kaede. kokichi, who is canonically 7 inches (edit: or 5, if you’re loyal to the original) shorter than kaede, looks taller than kaede. he’s growing too. what steroids are these gays taking

running into the room, electric boogaloo: I don’t think tsumugi is supposed to be the same height as kokichi

gonta… gonta you’re lookin a bit like a jojo character there

I love how kaito’s head looks kind of like it was pasted onto his body. why is he the same size as shuichi? shouldn’t he be high school bully size or something? his torso is teensy

ah yes, white angie.

I love this cg but why is shuichi’s right hand so much bigger than his left hand

I also love how this cg looks like they literally took pictures of trees and pasted them into the background, especially on the left. the shadows are so weird, especially closer to the ceiling, it’s difficult for me to believe they didn’t do exactly that.

return of Enlarged shuichi

puberty update: kokichi is now taller than shuichi in spite of shuichi never missing leg day. what crimes will he commit

I have to mention it, guys. this has to be one of the worst danganronpa cgs. kokichi’s facial proportions look atrocious. look at the way his face sticks out like his jaw is in the wrong place. his scarf is a pasted texture. that’s it. this moment was so iconic but the cg just looks so… so… off. like something is terribly wrong, but you can’t put your finger on it.

you know what? let’s get into that ‘pasted texture’ thing.

let’s imagine you’re an artist working on a professional game. you’re assigned to draw cgs of kokichi ouma, who has a checkered scarf from hell. sure, it will be terrible to draw, but you only have to draw it once at a time! plus, perspective is pretty important, right? can you be bothered? nah, actually. let’s just copy paste a checkered pattern into the cg, because I’m sure nobody will notice. it’ll blend right in with the other cgs that someone actually put effort into drawing his scarf in, right?

no. the answer is no and I very much noticed. this genuinely looks terrible and I would understand taking a shortcut like that in fanart or even an indie game but this is a full price pc and console distributed game

(an addition: look at kokichi’s TINY HANDS in that last one)

meanwhile, they straight up forgot to color in kokichi’s scarf in this cg.

dude. I forgot about whatever the hell this cg was. anyway look at keebo please just look at him

lovin kaito’s baby arms

real talk, maybe you could argue that he’s missing muscle because he’s deathly sick, but most of his cgs don’t line up with this, and his arms just look disproportionate to his torso size (granted this is a consistent problem across all danganronpa games and a lot of characters have this weird problem, like hajime, but also kaito is bigger than hajime so I kind of have higher expectations of him) maybe it’s his stupid goatee and the way he reminds me of yasuhiro?? it creates this illusion that he’s older than he is and so I keep expecting him to look more like an adult

oh, also rantaro is missing some of his accessories in that video he made–you know the one–but I don’t wanna go back and screenshot it

also you may have noticed that I’m skipping all of the monokub cgs because I literally do not care about them and I’m not even bothering to check and see if they have artistic mistakes in them

JIMMY NEUTRON???

hey um uh kaito you seem to be missing your neck

hey guys do you like my pregame fanart

so, that done, the sprites are also pretty terrible at times. they’re not as interesting to go through, however, and downloading the full sprite sets for every character and studying every single one of them will drive me insane, so I’ll just sum some of the ones I noticed up. I made things for kaede and shuichi before deciding I wasn’t going to get into it, so here are these.

that said, other mistakes include kokichi missing his purple highlights in all of the sprites encompassing a specific pose, stray pixels all over the place on everyone, and everyone also has heavily inconsistent shading, but literally all I think about is how pregame shuichi is unshaded and two of kaede’s pregame sprites have glaring outfit change mistakes in them

anyway, thank you for taking the time to read my ridiculous ramble. in all seriousness, there’s this looming presence of some lack of communication in the development team, like with all the art and design inconsistencies, pieces and sprites that look rushed, stray pixels, and missing basic proportional stuff. these are the kinds of things that you supposedly have to pretty much have in the bag in order to get jobs in professional businesses, so it’s really weird to me that this game suffers from so many of these problems. it’s like they tried to make the art so much more crisp than the other games, but it fell on its face as they realized it was going to take longer to draw everything and they started to rush. it’s weird, because the coloring itself looks normal–it’s just sloppily drawn, and the proportions are a mess once put into the context of perspective. many of the cgs look like they were drawn by different people, and I’m still not over the fact that half of kokichi’s cgs have his scarf pasted in as a texture.

the moral of the story is that if you’re selling a game at full price that also happens to be in a series that has had 3 very good games in it already the stakes should probably be higher than this. v3 has been out for more than 3 years and it’s still $40 (did it cost more than that before? I sure hope not), and the overarching quality of the game is just not as high as the other games. I’m not saying that the other games don’t have any problems with their art at all, they’re just not as glaringly obvious and every artistic choice in those games feels intentional.

regardless, I had a blast roasting the art at 2am, so maybe you got a kick out of all this chaos.

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

A Cursed Reality-JJK x M!Reader (Ch.2)

Question: Do you guys prefer longer chapters or shorter chapters? I’ve been making an effort to write longer chapters but if you hate reading them I’ll write them less.

Warnings: fluff, comparison of Inumaki’s speech to a disability/handicap, cursing. Dislike of Maki (Not me. wrong bitch. I love her)

Previous || Next

Chapter Two:

[Name] actively dislikes hanging out with the second years. Not that they’re bad people in any way, it’s just he’s anxious and awkward, and even after spending a year familiarizing himself with the school and the people in it, there’s like a small group of people he would invite to his birthday party.

That and he just doesn’t care for Maki Zen’in. And it is most definitely mutual. To him, she’s just pretty. She also won’t die in a battle between her and a curse below first grade. But that’s about the end of her appeal. Of course, Panda is fun to tease but he typically plays the peacemaker between the second years. [Name] would rather not care about people in peace.

There’s no dramatic reason to it all, it’s just [Name] didn’t really come to Jujutsu Tech by choice so he hadn’t intended on making friends. He obviously failed considering he befriended Inumaki within his first day and they have some homoromantic vibes going on in their friendship.

That’s not to say you can’t platonic cuddle with your best friend but when you longingly gaze into each other’s eyes and he’s the only friend you’ve made besides an annoyingly hyper 30-year-old because no one else understands you like he does… And it kind of goes both ways considering you’re the only person he trusts himself enough to have a full-on conversation with.

Yeah, it’s not looking very good for the argument that they’re not gay. They’re not though. At least not now.  

“[Name]”

“Yeah toge?”

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind” Inumaki responded. And although he had plenty of experience saying words, having a conversation without using safe words felt a little weird. It was an aspect of who he was now and [Name] being immune to the cursed speech wouldn’t erase the problems he had with talking and it didn’t make [Name] his savior or soulmate.

Luckily [Name] was both lonely and not a complete asshole because he had no problems adapting to the switch between Toge’s ‘onigiri glossary’. Learning it was actually a really fun experience because it turns out Inumaki did not have the exact translation of all his safe words. He would just say an ingredient and [Name] had to fill in the blanks. There was a lot of trial and error and a lot of [Name] smiling down at Inumaki’s concentrated face.

“I was just thinking.” [Name] broke the contemplative silence.

“Hmm”

“You know” [Name] started again “... They say it was believed people kept their souls in their throats” and as Inumaki gave a confused denial (“fish flakes”) [Name] was internally panicking on whether or not he should keep going with this specific train of thought or make a joke to deflect from the very real and emotional but corny statement he was about to utter.

“Ah fuck it. I want to exercise the curses in the world or at least enough to keep you safe so you don’t keep damaging your soul when you use your cursed technique”

“Sujiko”

[Name] looked at Inumaki. And as if breaking off pieces of his soul didn’t matter to him, Inumaki spoke, a short sentence that stunned [Name] into silence

“I love you”

If Gojo hadn’t come in, they might’ve kissed.

“[Name]-kun!!!”

Aaaand [Name]’s sentimental mood was gone. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo definitely would get an invite to [Name]’s birthday party, but the man was like 30 running around being overly cheerful and with that teasing nature he was definitely repressing some trauma. He also definitely had some of the worst timing

“What is it Gojo?”

“No sensei at the end? So mean!

“Fushiguro was sent out to find a cursed object but he’s been out all day with no calls back home or anything. Of course I plan on going to check on my beloved student, but I am busy for the next hour or so. Can you please check on him? For your favorite sensei?”

“My favorite sensei is actually Nanami and he’s not even a sensei but yeah I’ll check on the emo kid”

‘You’re pretty emo yourself dude’ Gojo thought to himself

“Ah Thank you [Name]-kun. You’re a lifesaver” Gojo called out behind him as he left to do whatever it is crazy white haired ‘old’ men do.

‘He’s/I’m totally not doing this for free’ both [Name] and Inumaki thought at the same time.

[Name] got up suddenly and started getting ready to leave paying no attention to Inumaki who watched him get ready with a casual interest. Before [Name] headed out, he turned to look at Inumaki with a serious and concentrated expression.

“Toge.”

“I love you”

“What the hell happened here?”

“....”

“Fushiguro-kun, if you please”

“Well I only know half of the story so it’s best if we hear it from Itadori”

All eyes whipped to the shirtless Yuji who had just gotten control of his body back from Sukuna, the apparent king of curses.

“I’d say it started when I went to school this morning but I think it started a little earlier for Fushiguro. Right Fushiguro?” Yuji asked

‘I swear I’m going to explode if someone doesn’t tell me the how we got this far I mean Fushiguro is bleeding from his head, this pink haired enthusiastic kid is possessed and I can’t tell if he’s too sweet to care or if he lost a few of his brain cells when he and the little emo first year wrecked this building’ [Name] thought to himself.

Clearing his throat he began “Well okay Fushiguro has a lot of really bad injuries so is it okay with you if he just quickly shares his part and then you take over?”

“Ohh Yeah that makes sense” Itadori awed and both he and [Name] turned their attention to poor Megumi who was bleeding from his forehead.

“Yesterday I was sent to retrieve a special grade cursed object and when I got there it was gone. Gojo sensei told me I couldn’t go home until it was recovered. The next day I stalked around the school and investigated when I saw Yuji for the first time.”

“Oh I remember that. It’s my turn to take over now. Uhh. I was in the occult club with my senpais Sasaki and Iguchi and we were asking the spirits about which animal the Student Council President was weaker than ( a fish) and then he burst in the room because he didn’t approve of our club-”

“Fast forward please” [Name] interrupted

“Fushiguro found me after my grandpa died and told me Iguchi and Sasaki were in danger because of the finger so I led him to the school where they said they were going to peel off the seal”

“And that’s why we’re here” [Name] surmised

“So what’s the situation”

“Gojo-sensei”/ “Old Man what are you doing here?” Megumi and [Name] called out

“I wasn’t gonna come but the higher ups got involved. I knew you’d all be fine though, I sent [Name] here to deal with it.”

“That’s true” Fushiguo mumbled

“I’m glad you all have faith in me” [Name] started “But that means I came here for absolutely nothing”

“... So did you find it?” Gojo asked

“Um sorry.... I ate it”

Gojo who didn’t hear the whole introduction and [Name] who didn’t quite get to the eating of the finger part in the story turned to Yuji in shock

“For real”

“For real”

“Haha you’re not kidding. They’re combined. How does your body feel?” Gojo asked Yuji

“Okay”

“Can you switch to Sukuna?”

“Sukuna?” Yuji asked

“The curse object you ate”

“Oh yeah. Probably”

“Ten seconds” gojo said “Take control again after ten seconds”

“I dunno about this”

“Don’t worry. I’m the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer”

Megumi looked to [Name] after hearing a curious “hmm” but [Name]’s face showed no anger or displeasure.

“Megumi hold onto this will ya” Gojo’s voice bled through Megumi’s thoughts of who would win between [Name] and Gojo. Give it a year or two and it might actually be [Name].

“What’s this?” Megumi asked

‘It better be a fucking weapon’ [Name] thought ‘Because if he sent me out because his important business was shopping he’s gonna regret it’

“Kikufuku Mochi” Gojo replied casually before feeling bloodlust leaking from [Name]. He’ll just have to make it up to the second year somehow

“Behind you” Fushiguro called out and [Name] sucked his teeth hoping Gojo would get hit at least once. He did not get his wish once

“I’ve got a student watching so..I hope you don’t mind if I show off a little bit” . And after that Gojo commenced kicking Sukuna’s ass. Sukuna tried to monologue a little as he sent out a powerful attack, but he missed Gojo on account of Gojo’s infinity dispelling the attack. By the time Sukuna realized Gojo was unharmed it was time for Yuji to switch back.

“Oh was everything okay?” Yuji asked as he came to his senses.

“Oh what a surprise” Gojo responded “You really can control it”

“Yeah, but he’s kind of annoying”

“It’s a miracle that’s the only side effect” Gojo said right before knocking Yuji out with one finger

“If he wakes up and isn't possessed, he might have potential as a vessel. Okay question for you two. What do I do with him?”

“Even if he is a potential vessel… He must be executed under jujutsu regulations…

“But I don’t want to let him die”

“Is that a personal opinion? Gojo asked

“Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it.

Gojo smiled and the two of them turned their attention towards [Name] who had been silent throughout the whole experience.

‘Besides being a little too excitable, he’s not bad. Like a puppy. I’d keep him as a pet.’ [Name] thought

“Don’t kill him” he said

“A precious student's request. And one from my favorite second year? Of course. Leave it to me!” Gojo said before lifting Yuji up.

[Name] still a little upset he was called away for nothing, raised his hand in front of his mouth so gojo couldn’t see what he was doing and whispered

“Fall over”

“Aak! [Name]-kunnn”

Fushiguro was shocked to see Gojo faceplant on the ground with Yuji on his shoulder. If the combination of Fushiguro’s wide eyed expression and the sight of Gojo in pain made [Name] giggle a little, he’d never admit it.

[lazywitchling]

Alright friends, buckle up, pretty sure this is going to be a long one.

Let me start off by saying that I am about to bring up a problem to which I have no solution. I will say what I think we shouldn't do, but I don't know what we should do instead. Someone smarter than me will have to cover that one.

Anyway, all this is regarding this post I made this morning after seeing yet another one of those asks floating around Tumblr. "What do you think of [website]?"

(Actually I'm going to toss this under a cut because it's WAY longer than I meant it to be, but I still think it's important to say)

It seems like a harmless ask. It usually comes with an explanation as to why there's something interesting there at that URL. Maybe not correct or good, but certainly interesting. Just enough to make you curious to go check the website. It's even in the phrasing of the question! They're not telling you they're good or bad, they're just asking what you think. That's harmless... right?

Yeah, no, it's definitely nazis. Not "nazis" as in "uhhh everything I don't like on the internet is nazi", it's nazis as in full-blown anti-Semitism, reptillian-people-control-the-banks... it's gross. I looked up what they're about just so I could tell you, and it's gross. 0/10, do not recommend.

Anyway, here on Tumblr, they send these asks out to various blogs. And over the past couple weeks, I've seen an increasing number of these asks published on my dashboard.

Now, every time I have seen them, the person publishing it has absolutely called it out for being what it is. They'll go into detail about why it's filth, or they'll go for the short-and-not-sweet "Fuck off, you nazi piece of shit". Every time I've seen the ask, it's been refuted.

But I've seen the ask. A lot.

Now... why is that a problem? Why is it a problem to publish the ask and call it out for what it is? Isn't it better for your followers to know what it is so they don't get taken in by it?

Let me tell you two stories.

1. The Cheeseburger

So yesterday for dinner I had a cheeseburger from... the Large Burger Chain (you know the one). Earlier in the day, I had read a post here on Tumblr about a lawsuit involving this Large Burger Chain, in which they had done a shitty thing. It was a funny story, where we got to laugh at the Large Burger Chain for being greedy and awful. "Look how awful those people at Large Burger Chain are. Aren't they the worst?"

So why did I go get a cheeseburger from them? Well, 'cause for the rest of the day, I kept thinking "Damn, a cheeseburger sounds delicious right now." It managed to weasel its way into my brain, and I couldn't stop thinking about cheeseburgers. And of course, that one cheeseburger place stands out in my mind. Until eventually, when out for a drive with Dad, he asked if I wanted anything in particular for dinner, and I said I had a craving for a cheeseburger from Large Burger Chain (It was Burger King).

Now why did I go there after having read about the shitty lawsuit?

Here's the thing about advertising. They know they can't sell you a cheeseburger from one advertisement. One commercial on TV does not make you go "I will now go get a cheeseburger from Large Burger Chain!" It doesn't work that way. But they want to be sure that when you DO want a cheeseburger eventually... they are the one you think of. They want to be the first place you think of.

Let me ask you something. How did you react when I said the name of Large Burger Chain? Because I said it up there in the strikeout. You might not have had a fully thought-out reaction, but I bet you had an instinctive moment where you either thought "I KNEW it was Burger King", or "Oh, I thought it was McDonalds."

Why did you think of the place you thought of? Is it because you like that one better? Is it because there's one down the road from your house that you pass all the time? Did you recently see a commercial for that one? This is a rhetorical question that probably doesn't have a specific answer. But somehow, for some reason or for many reasons, one of those burger places has made it's way into your head and is now the first place you think of when you hear "Large Burger Chain". One place stands out in your mind as The Fast Food Place With The Burgers. Even if you don't like either place, you've heard them advertised enough that they've got into your head.

You seeing where I'm going with this?

The more these asks show up on my dashboard, the more it gets into my head. I, knowing full well what that site is about, have wondered more than once "Hey, I've never actually looked at that website. What does it look like?" or "What is actually on there?" or "I want to go look at how bad it really is."

I can't name off the people who have received and published the ask. I didn't pay that much attention. Each time I saw it was insignificant at the time. But I've seen the website often enough that I can name its exact URL without ever having intentionally memorized it.

BUT JES, you say, WHY IS THAT A PROBLEM? If you KNOW the site is garbage, and you CALL it garbage, then no one is going to get taken in by it, right??

2. The Price Tags

So, I'm a cheesemonger. My job is to sell things to people. I've been in this business for nearly a decade, I've got certifications you probably don't even know exist. I am trained and paid to know how to get you to buy shit.

It's gross and I hate it and I don't use those skills if I can help it, but I have them.

But there's one very very easy tactic that I do use in my cheese department. It's very easy, takes no effort on my part, and it's really effective.

Every price tag is on the back of the piece of cheese.

These are cheeses that are cut to variable weights, with a certain price per pound. Because these cheeses are cut individually, they are priced individually. Smaller ones, bigger ones, whatever you need. Now, the thing is... if you are browsing my cheese wall looking for something interesting, you are going to see cheese, you are going to see names, you are going to see types. You are not going to see prices. If you want to see the price, which is on the back, you know what you have to do?

You have to pick it up.

I have now got the piece of cheese into your hands. And that's one step closer to it being in your cart.

It's not 100%. It's not even 50%. The majority of people who pick up a piece of cheese on a whim to check the price will then put it back down. But not all of them. A lot of people will pick it up, just to check, just to satisfy their curiosity. That one sounds odd, I wonder how much it is? And then it's in their hands, and they shrug, and they toss it into the cart. Because why not?

So WTF does this have to do with anything?

Look, it's a lot of fun to digitally punch a nazi. They come into our ask boxes, and it's so tempting to take a verbal (textual?) swing at them. But the goal is to get their name out there into the ether. It's to put that name in front of all your blog's followers, as many times as possible. Maybe you refute the ask and someone who has never heard of them before now knows who they are. OR maybe this is the fifth time they've seen it on their dash this week, and now they're curious. This group wants to make sure that you know their name off the top of your head, the way you know the name of that Large Burger Chain. And if they can get you to their site, even if it's just to satisfy your morbid curiosity, even if it's just to see how bad it really is, then they've got the piece of cheese in your hands. And yeah, maybe most people put it back. But sometimes it winds up in the cart.

So... what do I do?

Don't feed the trolls. Starve them. Block the anon. Delete the ask. Move on with your day.

As for how to teach people about these assholes? -shrug- That's where you have to ask someone smarter than me. I don't know how to educate people on this stuff without exposing them to it, but my instinct is to not let them control the conversation. Beyond that, you're probably best off listening to the people these groups hate. Find Jewish voices explaining what's so harmful about these people, and boost their voices instead.

Anyway.

That was a tome. Thanks for reading. Don't feel bad if you've ever published an ask they sent you. Individually posted, they don't have a whole lot of power. It's when it becomes a trend that it becomes a problem.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Patent troll's IP more powerful than Apple's

I was 12 years into my Locus Magazine column when I published the piece I'm most proud of, "IP," from September 2020. It came after an epiphany, one that has profoundly shaped the way I talk and think about the issues I campaign on.

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

That revelation was about the meaning of the term "IP," which had been the center of this tedious linguistic cold war for decades. People who advocate for free and open technology and culture hate the term "IP" because of its ideological loading and imprecision.

Ideology first: Before "IP" came into wide parlance - when lobbyists for multinational corporations convinced the UN to turn their World Intellectual Property Organization into a specialized agency, we used other terms like "author's monopolies" and "regulatory monopolies."

"Monopoly" is a pejorative. "Property" is sacred to our society. When a corporation seeks help defending its monopoly, it is a grubby corrupter. When it asks for help defending its property, it is enlisting the public to defend the state religion.

Free culture people know allowing "monopolies" to become "property" means losing the battle before it is even joined, but it is frankly unavoidable. How do you rephrase "IP lawyer" without conceding the property point? "Trademark-copyright-patent-and-related-rights lawyer?"

Thus the other half of the objection to "IP": its imprecision. Copyright is not anything like patent. Patent is not anything like trademark. Trade secrets are an entirely different thing again. Don't let's get started on sui generis and neighboring rights.

And this is where my revelation came: as it is used in business circles, "IP" has a specific, precise meaning. "IP" means, "Any law, policy or regulation that allows me to control the conduct of my competitors, critics and customers."

Copyright, patent and trademark all have limitations and exceptions designed to prevent this kind of control, but if you arrange them in overlapping layers around a product, each one covers the exceptions in the others.

Creators don't like having their copyrights called "author's monopolies." Monopolists get to set prices. All the copyright in the world doesn't let an author charge publishers more for their work. The creators have a point.

But when author's monopolies are acquired by corporate monopolists, something magical and terrible happens.

Remember: market-power monopolies are still (theoretically) illegal and when companies do things to maintain or expand their monopolies, they risk legal jeopardy.

But: The corporate monopolist who uses IP to expand their monopoly has no such risk. Monopolistic conduct in defense of IP enjoys wide antitrust forbearance. What's the point of issuing patents or allowing corporations to buy copyrights if you don't let them enforce them?

The IP/market-power monopoly represents a futuristic corporate alloy, a new metal never seen, impervious to democratic control.

Software is "IP" and so any device with software in it is like beskar, a rare metal that can be turned into the ultimate corporate armor.

No company exemplifies this better than Apple, a company that used limitations on IP to secure its market power, then annihilated those limits so that no one could take away its market power.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

In the early 2000s, Apple was in trouble. The convicted monopolist Microsoft ruled the business world, and if you were the sole Mac user in your office, you were screwed.

When a Windows user sent you a Word file, you could (usually) open it in the Mac version of Word, but then if you saved that file again, it often became forever cursed, unopenable by any version of Microsoft Office ever created or ever to be created.

This became a huge liability. Designers started keeping a Windows box next to their dual processor Power Macs, just to open Office docs. Or worse (for Apple), they switched to a PC and bought Windows versions of Adobe and Quark Xpress.

Steve Jobs didn't solve this problem by begging Bill Gates to task more engineers to Office for Mac. Instead, Jobs got Apple techs to reverse-engineer all of the MS Office file formats and release a rival office suite, Iwork, which could read and write MS Office files.

That was an Apple power move, one that turned MS's walled garden into an all-you-can-eat buffet of potential new Mac users. Apple rolled out the Switch ads, whose message was, "Every MS Office file used to be a reason *not* to use a Mac. Now it's a reason to switch *to* a Mac."

More-or-less simultaneously, though, Apple was inventing the hybrid market/IP monopoly tool that would make it the most valuable company in the world, in its design for the Ipod and the accompanying Itunes store.

It had a relatively new legal instrument to use for this purpose: 1998's Digital Millennium Copyright Act; specifically, Section 1201 of the DMCA, the "anti-circumvention" clause, which bans breaking DRM.

Under DMCA 1201, if a product has a copyrighted work (like an operating system) and it has an "access control" (like a password or a bootloader key), then bypassing the access control is against the law, even if no copyright infringement takes place.

That last part - "even if no copyright infringement takes place" - is the crux of DMCA 1201. The law was intended to support the practices of games console makers and DVD player manufacturers, who wanted to stop competitors from making otherwise legal devices.

With DVD players, that was about "region coding," the part of the DVD file format that specified which countries a DVD could be played back in. If you bought a DVD in London, you couldn't play it in Sydney or New York.

Now, it's not a copyright violation to buy a DVD and play it wherever you happen to be. As a matter of fact, buying a DVD and playing it is the *opposite* of a copyright infringement.

But it *was* a serious challenge to the entertainment cartel's business-model, which involved charging different prices and having different release dates for the same movie depending on where you were.

The same goes for games consoles: companies like Sega and Nintendo made a lot of money charging creators for the right to sell games that ran on the hardware they sold.

If I own a Sega Dreamcast, and you make a game for it, and I buy it and run it on my Sega, that's not a copyright infringement, even if Sega doesn't like it. But if you have to bypass an "access control" to get the game to play without Sega's blessing, it violates DMCA 1201.

What's more, DMCA 1201 has major penalties for "trafficking in circumvention devices" and information that could be used to build such a device, such as reports of exploitable flaws in the programming of a DRM system: $500k in fines and a 5 year sentence for a first offense.

Deregionalizing a DVD player or jailbreaking a Dreamcast didn't violate anyone's copyrights, but it still violated copyright law (!). It was pure IP, the right to control the conduct of critics (security researchers), customers and competitors.

In the words of Jay Freeman, it's "Felony contempt of business-model."

And that's where the Ipod came in. Steve Jobs's plan was to augment the one-time revenue from an Ipod with a recurrent revenue stream from the Itunes store.

He exploited the music industry's superstitious dread of piracy and naive belief in the efficacy of DRM to convince the record companies to only sell music with his DRM wrapper on it - a wrapper they themselves could not authorize listeners to remove.

Ever $0.99 Itunes purchase added $0.99 to the switching cost of giving up your Ipod for a rival device, or leaving Itunes and buying DRM music from a rival store. It was control over competitors and customers. It was IP.

If you had any doubt that the purpose of Ipod/Itunes DRM was to fight competitors, not piracy, then just cast your mind back to 2004, when Real Media "hacked" the Ipod so that it would play music locked with Real's DRM as well as Apple's.

http://www.internetnews.com/bus-news/article.php/3387871/Apple+RealNetworks+Hacked+iPod.htm

Apple used DMCA 1201 to shut Real down, not to stop copyright infringement, but to prevent Apple customers from buying music from record labels and playing them on their Ipods without paying Apple a commission and locking themselves to Apple's ecosystem, $0.99 at a time.

Pure IP. Now, imagine if Microsoft had been able to avail itself of DMCA 1201 when Iwork was developed - if, for example, its "information rights management" encryption had caught on, creating "access controls" for all Office docs.

There's a very strong chance that would have killed Apple off before it could complete its recovery. Jobs knew the power of interoperating without consent, and he knew the power of invoking the law to block interoperability. He practically invented modern IP.

Apple has since turned IP into a trillion-dollar valuation, largely off its mobile platform, the descendant of the Ipod. This mobile platform uses DRM - and thus DMCA 1201 - to ensure that you can only use apps that come from its app store.

Apple gets a cut of penny you spend buying an app, and every penny you spend within that app: 30% (now 15% for a minority of creators after bad publicity).

IP lets one of the least taxed corporations on Earth extract a 30% tax from everyone else.

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

Remember, it's not copyright infringement for me to write an app and you to buy it from me and play it on your Iphone without paying the 30% Apple tax.

That's the exact opposite of copyright infringement: buying a copyrighted work and enjoying it on a device you own.

But it's still an IP violation. It bypasses Apple's ability to control competitors and customers. It's felony contempt of business-model.

It shows that under IP, copyright can't be said to exist as an incentive to creativity - rather, it's a tool for maintaining monopolies.

Which brings me to today's news that Apple was successfully sued by a patent troll over its DRM. A company called Personalized Media Communications whose sole product is patent lawsuits trounced Apple in the notorious East Texas patent-troll court.

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2021-03-19/apple-told-to-pay-308-5-million-for-infringing-drm-patent

After software patents became widespread - thanks to the efforts of Apple and co - there was a bonanza of "inventors" filing garbage patents with the USPTO whose format was "Here's an incredibly obvious thing...*with a computer*." The Patent Office rubberstamped them by the million.

These patents became IP, a way to extract rent without having to make a product. "Investors" teamed up with "inventors" to buy these and impose a tax on businesses - patent licensing fees that drain money from people who make things and give it to people who buy things.

They found a court - the East Texas court in Marshall, TX - that was hospitable to patent trolls. They rented dusty PO boxes in Marshall and declared them to be their "headquarters" so that they could bring suits there.

Locals thrived - they got jobs as "administrators" (mail forwarders) for the thousands of "businesses" whose "head office" was in Marshall (when you don't make a product, your head office can be a PO box).

Productive companies facing hundreds of millions - billions! - in patent troll liability sought to curry favor with locals (who were also the jury pool) by "donating" things to Marshall, like the skating rink Samsung bought for the town.

https://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/why-south-korea-s-samsung-built-the-only-outdoor-skating-rink-in-texas

Patent, like copyright, is supposed to serve a public purpose. There are only two clauses in the US Constitution that come with explanations (the rest being "truths held to be self-evident"): the Second Amendment and the "Progress Clause" that creates patents and copyrights.

Famously, the Second Amendment says you can bear arms as part of a "well-regulated militia."

And the Progress Clause? It extends to Congress the power to create patents and copyrights "to promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts."

I'm with Apple in its ire over this judgment. Sending $308.5m to a "closely held" patent troll has nothing to do with the "Progress of Science and useful Arts."

But it has *everything* to do with IP.

If copyright law can let Apple criminalize - literally criminalize - you selling me If copyright law can let Apple criminalize - literally criminalize - you selling me your copyrighted work, then there's no reason to hate on patent trolls.

They're just doing what trolls do: blocking the bridge between someone engaged in useful work and the customers for that work, and extracting a toll. It's not even 30%.

There is especial and delicious irony in the fact that the patent in question is a DRM patent: a patent for the very same process that Apple uses to lock down its devices and prevent creators from selling to customers without paying the 30% Apple Tax.

But even without that, it's as good an example of what an IP marketplace looks like: one in which making things becomes a liability. After all, the more you make, the more chances there are for an IP owner to demand tax from you to take it to market.

The only truly perfect IP is the naked IP of a patent troll, the bare right to sue, a weapon made from pure abstract legal energy, untethered from any object, product or service that might be vulnerable to another IP owner's weapons.

A coda: you may recall that Apple doesn't use DRM on its music anymore: you can play Itunes music on any device. That wasn't a decision Apple took voluntarily: it was forced into it by a competitor: Amazon, an unlikely champion of user rights.

In 2007, the record labels had figured out that Apple had lured them into a trap, selling millions of dollars worth of music that locked both listeners and labels into the Itunes ecosystem.

In a desperate bid for freedom, they agreed to help Amazon launch its MP3 store - all the same music, at the same prices...without DRM. Playable on an Ipod, but also on any other device.

Prior to the Amazon MP3 store, the market was all DRM: you could either buy Apple's DRM music and play it on your Ipod, or you could buy other DRM music and play it on a less successful device.

The Amazon MP3 store (whose motto was "DRM: Don't Restrict Me") changed that to "Buy Apple DRM music and play it on your Ipod, or buy Amazon music and play it anywhere." That was the end of Apple music DRM.

So why hasn't anyone done this for the apps that Apple extracts the 30% tax on? IP. If you made a phone that could play Ios apps, Apple would sue you:

https://gizmodo.com/judge-tosses-apple-lawsuit-against-iphone-emulator-in-b-1845967318

And if you made a device that let you load non-App Store apps on an Iphone, Apple would also sue you.

Apple understands IP. It learned the lesson of the Amazon MP3 store, and it is committed to building a world where every creator pays a tax to reach every Apple customer.

[solalunar-eclipse]

45.06°N, 1.656°E

Summary: Rouge deserves more cool.

Word count: about 4200 words

Author’s Note: Hopefully my writing abilities haven’t deteriorated too much over the hiatus- but either way, please enjoy! (Side note: this is technically set after Scars You Can’t See, but it isn’t vital to read that if you haven’t already)

...

It was truly a beautiful day outside in Empire City. Puffy clouds drifted across a rich blue sky, a light breeze pushing them along as the sun shone down brightly- just enough to bring the temperature up to a comfortable range. Its rays shimmered upon one of the many tall, silvery buildings that this city was known for, threatening to leave a temporary mark on the vision of anyone who looked at it for too long. This particular building advertised itself as an insurance company’s headquarters, and it looked perfectly in place amongst all the other skyscrapers in the city.

The activities going on inside, however, were anything but ‘in place’.

Near the very top of the towering structure, a bat sat in front of a wall-sized computer screen, her black-gloved fingers flying across the keyboard. Firewalls and security systems fell like sandcastles swept out by the tide- no corner of this building was safe when she was in control. Identity checks meant nothing to her, passwords were a breeze, and two-factor authentication? A joke.

Rouge smiled in satisfaction, taking a break to stretch out her fingers now that she was successfully through the various measures designed to keep hackers like her out of these computers. With a click of the mouse and a few keys tapped, the various sums of money the people who worked here had stolen began to make their way back to their rightful owners’ bank accounts.

After all, this building didn’t actually house an insurance company. That was just a cover story for the real business here- draining the cash out of innocent people’s funds. Rouge had been determined to stop this as soon as she’d learned about it before any more people got hurt (when she stole it was usually from rich people who could afford to have one of many diamonds go missing- this was just cruel!), and now she’d successfully completed about half the job. Just returning the money wasn’t quite enough, of course- this scheme had been running for over a year now, and it was about time someone put a stop to it for good. 

That was where her friends came in.

While she manned the cameras, Shadow and Omega were grabbing plenty of physical evidence from the various offices throughout the building- more than enough to incriminate everyone who worked here. Rouge’s job was mostly to ensure that they could get what they needed without any serious trouble. It might be a difficult task, considering that Omega was set on blowing up most of the tech stored here...but she was prepared to deal with that.

The bat leaned back in her chair, catching a quick glimpse of herself in the window as she did so. Ever since they’d left G.U.N., a great perk (in addition to the lack of association with a corrupt military organization, obviously) was that they could wear whatever they wanted on the job. Before, Rouge had really been pushing it on ‘formality’ with her jumpsuit alone, and even then she hadn’t been allowed to wear anything else while on the job for the sake of ‘consistency’.

Now, in a drastic change from her usual style, she wore a tight black leather jumpsuit over a purple shirt, complete with white gloves and high-heeled boots. The latter two had neon blue accents, too, providing a burst of color as well as an actual light source to see by- perfect for dark missions.

Shadow and Omega hadn’t been allowed any personal effects re: clothing before due to the fact that a few too many supervisors saw them as weapons and not people. Rouge had of course argued against this, but there was only so much one person could do.

Now, though, the bat had insisted that both of her friends get more clothing- ‘if nothing else then to stick it to them’ were her exact words- and they had both taken to it quite well after an initial period of hesitancy. Omega in particular had been quite devastated (and then promptly offended) upon discovering that no leather jackets were currently produced in his specific size. Eventually, however, he was placated with the offer of a fedora, claiming it made him look ‘VERY MYSTERIOUS’. He had now taken to collecting hats as well as weaponry.

Shadow could fit into a leather jacket, on the other hand, and consequently owned about five of them, three of which he’d bought within the same week. Today he wore one with red stitching, and while he hadn’t had anything to say about it, Rouge had caught him admiring it in the mirror before the mission (at which point he scowled, blushed green to his ears, and teleported away).

Right now, though, he and Omega were quietly discussing which documents to take and which ones to leave behind. It would raise suspicions far too quickly if the criminals inhabiting this building came back to discover a completely bare office, after all, so they only took several receipts of major transactions as well as a list of the bank account numbers that had been hacked- and some future targets as well.

(Was this whole thing illegal? Kind of. Did anyone really mind so long as they were helping others? Not really. After all, Tails was totally not old enough to fly a plane, but at this point the government had basically thrown up their hands and said ‘whatever I guess’, so it was fine.)

“ROUGE.” Omega said suddenly, making the bat stop her musing and drop her feet from the desk. “THIS IS IMPORTANT.”

“Yeah, hon? What is it?” she asked, ready to deal with any problems that might arise.

“MY HAT KEEPS FALLING OFF. I REQUIRE SOME SORT OF METHOD TO KEEP IT ON.”

The bat sighed and gave a relieved laugh as Shadow hissed, “Omega! This is a serious mission!”

“It’s alright, Shadow. Omega, we’ll find some double-sided tape or something when we get home, alright?”

The robot paused for a moment, thinking. “THIS IS ACCEPTABLE.”

As Rouge watched, they gathered up the rest of the items and began to move towards the lobby. Today was an off day for the ‘business’, so most of the hallways would be empty. The secretary out front would take his usual break to go get lunch in two minutes as well, giving them a clear chance to escape.

And of course that was when everything went wrong.

It turned out that leaving G.U.N. (while the right idea) wasn’t without its occasional disadvantages. If they’d still been part of the military organization, then they would’ve had the resources to figure out that these criminals were more than a little paranoid, so their security system ran diagnostics every hour on the dot. When it discovered the hacking, it locked Rouge’s access to any other computer terminal and then restricted every single application on that one computer.

These people weren’t exactly beginners when it came to computers, after all.

The bat jumped out of her chair the second her computer glitched and froze, panicked. “Guys. Guys, get out of here right now.” she said urgently into her microphone. “I can bust out a window but you two have to go right now-”

She froze as, on the screen, multiple armed guards and two gigantic mechs dropped down onto the ground level and pointed their guns at Shadow and Omega. The robot moved to cover the hybrid’s back as Shadow pulled his favorite katana sword out of its scabbard.

Rouge refused to sit and watch another minute, kicking the door off its hinges hard enough to slam it against the opposite wall and tearing down the hallway to save her teammates.

Shadow and Omega fought well in the meantime, managing to take out one of the mechs and several guards too. Occasionally, Shadow even curled up and was promptly fired out of his friend’s cannon at top speed, turning into a deadly projectile all by himself.

Eventually, though, one of the guards got too smart and pulled out a stun gun, shocking Omega long enough to put the robot temporarily out of commission. Shadow spun around to defend his friend, using the Chaos Emerald he’d brought along to deliver a devastating blow- but he had nobody to watch his back now, and it barely took a minute before the mech found an opening to slam him into the wall as he dealt with the guards.

Shadow dropped to the ground weakly, temporarily unconscious. Omega was still struggling to get his systems back online.

Rouge, meanwhile, was furious.

The bat rushed to the balcony overlooking the lobby from the third floor, her teeth bared as she watched the mech move into position, prepared to bring its giant fist down on Shadow’s unmoving body. Flipping over the railing, she free-fell the three stories to the ground, slamming both heels into the marble and leaving a long crack across the floor. She snatched up the Emerald from the tile where it had fallen out of Shadow’s quills, holding it tightly in her hand. 

“Leave him alone. Now.” she snarled.

When the mech pilot gave her nothing more than a cursory glance, raising the steel fist higher, Rouge charged.

An ultrasonic shriek exploded from her lungs, making every other human in the room double over and clutch their ears. At the exact same time, the glass in the extra-tall windows of the lobby vibrated, cracked, and then shattered into hundreds of pieces.

Rouge didn’t see any of that. Rouge didn’t care about any of that. All she could see was the hedgehog she’d come to care about so much about to be crushed by someone who barely even knew his name.

She jumped up and whirled around in the air, the power of her wings suddenly (strangely) strong enough to send the mech swaying backwards slightly, before lashing out with a kick that dented the chestplate of the thing and hit it hard enough to-

-and Rouge’s eyes widened-

-to send it flying through the shattered windows and down the street that the building faced, so far that it became nothing more than a speck in the horizon.

This was, incidentally, a mech that weighed over two tons. 

Omega, near the other end of the room, silently thanked every inventor that had ever lived (aside from Eggman) that he had powered back on in time to see this.

Rouge, however, didn’t spare more than a second to think about it, instead dropping to her knees to check on Shadow. The moment she pressed the Chaos Emerald back into his hand, the hybrid’s eyes began to open slowly.

“Ugh….what happened…?”

“That moron of a pilot smacked you into a wall, hon. Are you gonna be okay?” Rouge asked, scanning his face for any sign of a concussion.

Shadow blinked twice, then suddenly sat bolt upright, his eyes wide. “...Rouge? Are you sure you’re alright?” 

The bat frowned, confused, looking over herself. “Yeah, hon, I’m….”

She froze.

While Rouge had seen many strange things in her time, the sight of her lower legs and feet glowing bright purple was certainly a first.

As she jumped back from Shadow in surprise, she let go of the Chaos Emerald in his hand, making the aura surrounding her fade. “What...what was that?”

“YOU WERE SO COOL. THAT IS WHAT THAT WAS.” Omega declared, hauling himself to his feet and walking over. “YOU BEGAN TO GLOW AND KICKED THAT INFERIOR CREATION SEVERAL MILES AWAY. THE ONLY REGRET IN THIS SCENARIO IS THAT YOU WERE UNABLE TO CONTINUE DESTROYING YOUR ENEMIES, AS THERE WAS ONLY ONE OF THEM.”

Shadow looked up at her in surprise and- was that a little bit of awe? “I should have known you’d be able to use Chaos powers!” he said, shaking his head as he got to his feet. “Incredible...it’s no wonder you’re so resilient in battle.”

Rouge pointedly ignored the light flush on her face from all of this praise. “Well, we’ve got what we came for, so there. We’ll leave all of this evidence-” and clearly she wasn’t just talking about the papers- “for that new organization the government’s setting up. What’s it called again?”

Omega shrugged- an odd motion with his bulky shoulders. “THEY’RE STILL DECIDING. HOPEFULLY IT TURNS OUT TO BE SOMETHING COOL.”

“Well, whatever their name is, it’s their job now to deal with all this.” Rouge said, gesturing around at the general mess.

At that moment, the secretary returned with his food, only to stop dead in his tracks and stare at the three members of Team Dark amongst the wreckage of two gigantic robots and a lot of broken glass.

The bat ‘s face split into a wide, wicked grin, pointing directly at him. “And you’ll be the one to explain it to them!”

(It took one extremely short chase to retrieve the man- who foolishly thought he could lose Shadow and Rouge in the alleyways- before he was tied to one of the disgustingly ostentatious pillars by Omega. The team then went home and spent the next two hours watching Rouge glow and then break things…mostly things she meant to hit.)

…

Several days later, her team and Sonic's crew (plus Amy Rose) were in a different city, dealing with the usual biweekly Eggman attack. This one seemed, unfortunately, to not have most of the weak spots that usually came into play when fighting one of his giant robots, as both the power source and the mad scientist in question were heavily guarded.

However, after a particularly well-timed attack from Omega, Amy, and Knuckles all at once, Rouge spotted a panel that was currently rather dented and bent open with some wiring spilling out, and knew exactly what to do.

“Shadow! Omega! Cover me!” she shouted, leaping into the air and soaring towards the robot.

Immediately, she saw several smaller robots explode in her periphery, having fallen victim to the deadly lasers and Chaos Spears that her friends used. Her focus was on one thing and one thing only, though- making it up to that panel.

The moment Rouge latched on, she pulled open the panel the rest of the way and began to rewire the machine at an impressive pace. While she might not be the same kind of tech expert as Tails, who built devices and wrote code most people with a PhD couldn’t understand if they tried, one thing she certainly knew was how to make computers do what she wanted.

Eventually, though, Eggman caught on to what she was doing and tried to swat her off his mech with its two giant metal fists. “What do you think you’re doing down there with my robot?” he shouted, swinging at her wildly.

Suddenly, one of the fists in question promptly vanished, replaced by a smoking hole and a bunch of wires where a functioning steel hand was supposed to be. Rouge, startled, looked around for what could possibly have caused this- and promptly relaxed upon seeing Omega retracting his biggest laser cannon (which was glowing red-hot) back into his chassis with a glare up at his creator.

Thankfully, he’d also provided just the distraction she needed to rewire the last few parts, at which point she jumped off just as the robot began to spin wildly...and then its entire midsection exploded, launching the command center with Eggman still inside a good fifty feet into the air.

The bat landed on the ground to cheers from her friends and took a dramatic bow. Omega clapped a hand on her shoulder in a friendly way (which meant he only knocked the wind out of her and didn’t shove her several feet deep into the asphalt) as Shadow looked on with his arms folded, but still clearly proud.

“Wow, Rouge!” Tails exclaimed, his eyes wide and smile wider. “I didn’t realize you knew your way around that kind of tech that well- you should totally stop by my lab sometime!”

The bat shrugged. “It comes with the job, that’s all.” she insisted, but internally she was more than a little surprised- it still didn’t quite come naturally to her to consider that people would be impressed by what she did. All G.U.N. had ever told her was that she’d done ‘as well as was expected’, which made it seem like her skills were just average. Seeing someone who she’d mostly considered an acquaintance telling her how incredible her skills were when to her it was just ‘something I can do’ was...pretty nice, actually.

Rouge offered him a quick grin as the other three heroes came rushing up to her in varying states of surprise and excitement. “I just might take you up on that offer sometime.”

…

A week after that, Team Dark was spending time at the Station Square mall together- a common occurrence for them. It had good clothes, tolerable food, and most importantly lots of jewelry stores. They were here today because Rouge’s favorite was having a sale, and she refused to miss out on any opportunity to shop for gems.

After about an hour of looking around in the store (most of which was spent attempting to prevent Rouge from emptying said store and/or sneaking things out from inside locked cases), the three finally left with about four tiny bags of jewelry, which Omega wore hooked over his fingers. “THIS SEEMS WASTEFUL, BUT ALSO AMUSING.” he’d commented, at which point the bat riding on his shoulder gasped in mock outrage and began to vehemently defend the store’s choices.

They hadn’t gone more than a few steps, though, before she heard some gasps and squeals somewhere off to the left. She sighed. Some people seemed to have this odd hero-worship thing around Shadow, but the attention only made him feel awkward, so it looked like she’d have to play guard as usual here. Drifting down from her perch as the three young women approached, she said, “Alright, ladies, what are you here for?”

The bravest of the three moved forward, clutching something in her hands. “Uh…”

Rouge prepared herself to say no on behalf of her friend, to hear complaints like ‘why can’t we talk to Shadow?? You suck”, but then-

“...can you sign this poster, please?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t— wait, what?”

The bat stared at the poster, her eyes wide. A picture of herself looked right back at her, a smirk spread across her printed self’s face as jewels dripped from the hand not resting on her hip.

The photo was rather outdated now, having been taken not long after the ARK disaster. Post-crisis, Sonic had insisted that everyone (except for Eggman, since he’d caused that whole mess in the first place) get recognition for trying to save the planet together...and that included her. 

Rouge and Sonic had both been wearing Shadow’s inhibitor rings during that photo shoot. It was their way of making sure that even though he wasn’t with them any longer, even though nobody would really remember who he was, he’d still live on in some little way without a big announcement.

She took the poster quickly, shaking off old memories, and gave them a genuine smile- rare for strangers. “Of course, hon!” she said, taking the offered pen and signing her name with a flourish and a little heart.

The one who’d asked promptly squealed and clutched at the poster, a big grin on her face. “Oh wow, thank you sooo much!” she gushed. “You know, you’re, like, my hero, right? Everyone always just, like, says that you can’t look good and be a real hero at the same time, you’re either a sell-out or too serious...but, you’re, like, both?? And that’s just so, y’know, empowering? To see someone looking fabulous and being a hero, but like not taking any nasty comments about it?”

Both her friends agreed eagerly, and Rouge found herself blushing just a little at all this praise. “If either of you have anything else, I could write something on those too,” she offered, still feeling a little bit bewildered at the moment.

This earned her two simultaneous squeals of “Really?!” followed by a lot of frantic searching for paper. Rouge was more than happy to sign her name there too, even adding a little message to each of them- and to the poster for good measure. As the three fans cheered, snapped a quick selfie with her (which was something she so wasn’t used to either), and then rushed off with a “thank you so much!!” Rouge found herself still smiling as she turned to walk back to her friends.

Shadow and Omega had moved a little ways away during all of the fuss, and now they were sporting similarly pleased expressions with more than a little bit of smugness mixed in. “SEE?” Omega asked, and Rouge could tell he’d be smirking if he were able to do so. “WE HAVE TOLD YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT YOU ARE EXCEPTIONALLY COOL. YOU DIDN’T BELIEVE US THEN, THOUGH….DO YOU NOW?” He stopped there and somehow promptly assumed an even stronger I-told-you-so air than before.

“Maybe you’ll even get your own fanclub before long...oh, wait. Look what I just found.” Shadow added, tossing his phone over to her. Only the faintest of smirks was visible on his face (they were in public, after all) as Rouge stared at the screen proclaiming the current website to be “The Official Rouge Fansite (anyone feel free to join!!)”.

The bat found herself blushing to her ears, flattered and surprised by all of the support she hadn’t known existed until now.

Omega picked her up and set her on his shoulder, turning his head to look up at his friend. “COOL PEOPLE LIKE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO WALK PLACES.”

“And-” Shadow added, slinging the bags she’d acquired at the store over her shoulder. “-cool people like you shouldn’t have to carry anything either.”

Rouge wondered briefly if her grin might strain her face if it grew much wider. Leaping down for a moment, she hovered in the air just long enough to ruffle the quills on top of Shadow’s head before perching back on Omega’s shoulder and patting the robot fondly. “You two dorks are the best.” she said warmly.

Shadow huffed and began to walk on ahead, clearly embarrassed. “DORK.” Omega called after the hedgehog, his eyes brightening by about fifteen percent in good humor. 

“She called you one too, you know.” Shadow replied without looking back.

“YES, BUT YOUR DORKINESS IS MORE OBVIOUS.” Omega declared, by now shouting across several stores as Rouge tried to stifle a laugh.

“If you don’t catch up and stop talking I’ll hide all the hats in your favorite store and you’ll never find them.” the hybrid growled.

Rouge promptly discovered that Omega, despite weighing a thousand pounds, could in fact move quite quickly when threatened with the loss of a chance to add to his new clothing collection. The robot fired all of his boosters at once, sending them flying down that particular wing of the mall and nearly slamming into a wall in the process.

After a spirited chase that lasted over five minutes (along with lots of shouts of “get him, Omega!” and jumping off balconies and general taunting), the group was promptly escorted out of the mall without a chance to enjoy the store they’d started the ‘fight’ over in the first place.

Rouge watched her two friends sulk for a minute before smirking suddenly. 

“Guess what?” she asked, stepping back to look at both of them.

When she had their attention, she pulled out a nice new summer outfit with a laugh…from that same place.

“You didn’t.” Shadow said, staring at the clothing.

“OH, SHE DID.” 

Rouge then proceeded to pull both a cool hat in all gold and a nice blue bomber jacket out from behind her back as well, her smile widening even more. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you two at all. Or forgotten to pay, either.” she added quickly with a sigh. She soon shifted to watching with delight, though, as Shadow’s eyes widened considerably and Omega’s head whirled to fixate on her hand. 

“HAND IT OVER.” he ordered, holding out his clawed, metallic fingers insistently.

“Well...since you asked so rudely...no.” Rouge replied, before leaping into the sky with a grin.

“What?” Shadow gasped.

The robot’s eyes narrowed. “DON’T YOU DARE.”

Rouge flew higher at that. “Oh, but I do dare.” She wheeled around and began to fly off at top speed, snickering at the sound of indignant shouts behind her. Soon enough, she heard the swish-swish of Shadow’s skates and the clanking of Omega not far behind.

They might be able to catch her eventually, she mused, soaring through a gap between buildings- she wasn’t that fast, really. It wouldn’t be easy for them at all, though. 

After all, Rouge was just as powerful as they were, in her own way.

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Things I’ll Never Say

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33 🡪chapter 34

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

If I could say what I want to say I'd say I want to blow you, away Be with you every night Am I squeezing you too tight If I could say what I want to see I want to see you go down On one knee Marry me today Guess, I'm wishing my life away With these things I'll never say

It don't do me any good It's just a waste of time What use is it to you What's on my mind If ain't coming out We're not going anywhere So why can't I just tell you that I care

click here to be on the update list

DEVON

                                                  I woke up with a groan and felt my head throb and ache just like it would do if I was hungover. I hadn't had a single drop even if I should have when I remembered the way I painted and for how long. I was pretty sure I had fallen asleep on the floor but when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Niall's pretty face very close to mine.

My heart jumped in my chest and my lips parted before I licked them. He was sleeping and he looked so peaceful and motionless that I started wondering if he was actually breathing. I slipped my hand under the cover to reach for his naked chest and held my breath at how warm his skin was. It was a miracle my cold hand didn't wake up up but I still waited a few seconds, trying to feel his heart beating in his chest.

Every time I looked at him, I felt something twist in my stomach. I knew he wanted us to be official and if I listened to my heart, that's what I wanted too, but risking it was so scary I couldn't find the courage to give in to his request. I thought about Henry and how he had broken me, and I thought about Abby and how Niall could break me even more. There was no was I could heal my heart if he hurt me, it would be turned to complete dust and I knew it.

I found myself jealous of the way Niall was in love with Abby, and how he would have done anything for her. I was jealous of a past relationship of the man I had refused to date and I hated myself for it. I knew it wasn't rational and that it made no sense but I couldn't help it.

Perhaps, if I had met Niall before I met Henry... maybe if he had met me before he met Abby... In that specific case, maybe we could give each other the chance and the love we both deserved. The problem was that we both went through the exact same thing, or almost, and apparently, two persons who went through the same thing can understand each other, but can't help each other. I didn't know how true that saying was but I had heard it enough to hear it echo in my head every time I wanted to love again.

I brought my hand up to his face and brushed my fingertips on his cheek so softly that I felt a shiver run in my back. One of my fingers reached his bottom lip and I felt myself tear up. I had never met in my life a man like Niall and he was slipping through my fingers because of my fears and anticipations. It was unfair, and it was stupid, but the knot in my stomach was there permanently and I couldn't make it disappear. All the feelings that came back when I saw Henry again made me remember how bad love hurts and at that exact moment, laying in bed in front of Niall, I knew it was true.

I desperately wanted to kiss him but I knew he didn't want us to do anything anymore so I just swallowed hard and got out of the bed slowly. I searched for my painting and found it on the desk in a corner of the room, sighing low. I hated it and started nibbling on my bottom lip, trying to remember that I always hated my art in the first few days after making it, and that it was normal. Besides, artists are the worst critics of their own art.

I heard Niall move in bed and turned around just in time to see him reach for a pillow and bring it against him. He let out a short whimper and it made me wonder if he would have cuddled me if I was still in bed. I shook my head, trying to push that thought away, and finally search for a pen in the room, finally finding one in one of the drawers. I sat on the couch and started scribbling a few words on a paper. I really sucked at writing songs, but I could clearly remember a melody, especially one that really touched me, and it came in handy at that moment.

When I was done, I re-read what was written on the paper and raised my nose up before sighing again and folding the sheet, putting it away in my bag. I decided to take a quick shower to take the paint off my arms and face and when I walked back in the room, Niall was awake. I stopped walking and held my breath at the sight of his naked back. It's not like I had never seen Niall only wearing boxers but perhaps knowing I'm never get to touch him again made something twist in my stomach.

"Oh, hey." he let out when he turned around. "How did you sleep?"

I wanted to tell him that I slept better than I had in a while, if only because he was with me in the same bed. When I woke up, I felt the warmth of his body emanate on mine even if we weren't touching and I loved it way too much. I couldn't tell him that it would have been even better if he was holding me all night, but I wanted to, because I felt it all over my body. I felt it so intensely that I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

"Was nice, and you?"

"Good, thanks." he said, putting on sweatpants. "Better than the floor."

I sent him a small smile that he sent back and I licked my lips. "Thanks for bringing me in bed and tucking me in, last night. I vaguely remember."

"You're welcome, Devie."

I felt my heart flutter at the nickname and I realized I'd never get over it.

"So, you're going skiing today?"

"Snowboarding, yea." he let out, searching for his stuff in his bags. "You're gonna join us downstairs in a few hours?"

I nodded quickly and pressed my lips together as I stared at him. I loved how he moved around the room like it was just a random day and we were just used tp be around each other like that. To some extent, we were, since we shared the same room on campus, but it felt slightly different at that moment, more intimate, maybe. I let my mind wander, imagining what it would be like if we ended up dating and living together. Was that what I would see in the morning before he actually went to work?

"Okay, I'm ready. I'll see you later?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mmhm." I nodded as I imagined him walking closing to me and bending down to kiss me.

Why did I like this scenario so much it made my heartbeats accelerate? I watched him leave and when the door closed behind him, I felt extremely empty and lonely. I got up after a few minutes and walked to my painting again, running my fingertips slowly on the colors I had used. Was it crazy to start painting with light colors so early after a break up? I turned my head to look at the door, hoping it would open again as my heart thumped hard in my chest. It was Niall, I knew it. It was him that brought in me all these new emotions and I liked it so much I felt myself tear up.

Without thinking, I searched through my bag and found a few pictures I had taken. I had taken the time to develop them by myself in the college darkroom and I had loved the result. Despite myself, the lights had added a few pale yellow spots and it looked amazing. At first, I wanted to numerize them and modify them but I realized I didn't need to.

I sat in bed and looked at them carefully. There were no full faces on any of them. My favorite was one of  Niall's naked shoulder with a bit of his back and hair. We could also see the top of my head and part of my forehead in it too as I lied down beneath him, and his fingers were slipped in my hair. I had no idea why this specific shot made me feel emotional but it was strong and it made something twist in my chest.

I got up and grabbed the piece of paper I had put in my bag earlier before I walked to the desk, sitting down in front of it. Slowly and carefully, I copied the lyrics I had scribbled while Niall was asleep behind the picture, along with a few lyrics that didn't belong to me. I had taken a lot of pictures in my life, but nothing like this one. Perhaps it was only because it meant so much to me... because he meant so much to me. It actually made me want to pain that picture and I quickly grabbed a blank canvas from my stuff before grabbing a pen. I was never really good at drawing people, I felt like the human body was too complex to draw, but I decided to make an exception this time. It didn't really matter anyway. When I'd add paint, the forms wouldn't be as defined and even if I knew nothing could be better than the actual picture, I felt like not painting it would eat me up inside.

I couldn't tell how long it took me but when I didn't stop until I was done. Normally, a painting like that could take me many days to create but somehow, it had turned out the way I wanted after only a few hours. I left it on the floor and decided to finally take an other shower, if only to take the paint from my hands, arms and face. I got out and quickly dressed before checking my phone. I had no message and I raised my nose up, telling myself they were probably busy skiing but I still decided to get downstairs, to the common living room. I loved how all the couches were placed with a fireplace in the middle. The first thing that made my heart jump in my chest was a laughter. I recognized it because I had to hear it for hours on a certain night and every time, it made my heart drop in my chest. Today was no exception. My eyes roamed around and found Abby who was laughing, throwing her head back. She was still wearing her beanie and coat and when I noticed Niall was the one she was talking with, I felt nauseous. He laughed too before taking a sip of his drink and Abby moved closer, placing her hand on his arm and letting it slip down.

I swallowed hard, knowing it probably meant nothing but telling myself that if this simple gesture made me feel like that, I'd never be able to be around Niall if he was dating an other girl, especially if that girl was Abby.

I held my breath and my lips parted when Niall turned around and our eyes met. I felt myself tear up and shook my head lightly before turning on my heels and leaving. I tried to keep my tears in, knowing it was ridiculous to be sad for that, and just as I was reaching the elevator, I felt his warm hand on my arm.

"Hey, Devie, where are you going?" he asked softly as I turned around. His face changed when he saw mine and took a step closer. "Woah, what's wrong, why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" I let out a bit too roughly, taking a step back. "I didn't want to annoy you while you were flirting with your ex girlfriend."

"Devie, we weren't flirting." he argued. "At least, I was not."

"She was all over you." I just replied.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "So? That's what Abby does! Besides, you're texting with Henry and I haven't thrown a tantrum about it!"

"I'm not texting with Henry, what are you talking about?"

"You told me he messaged you when we were at my apartment!" he pointed out, making me frown.

"Yes! But I never said I answered him!" I let out a but louder. "Because I didn't!"

His face changed, his traits softened and he took a step closer. "You didn't?"

His voice was low and gentle and it calmed me instantly.

"No. I want to move on from him, I don't love him anymore."

Once again, Niall took a step closer and took his beanie off. I felt my lips curl very slightly on the light at the sight of his hair and he quickly passed his hand in it, messing it even more. He looked so pretty I felt my head tilt a bit on the right.

"If... If it makes you feel better, I don't have feelings for Abby anymore either. I can't even understand why I ever was in love with her." he added with a shrug. "Not that you really care, because you don't love me like that, right?"

I stared at him and blinked a few times, trying to decide what I was supposed to say. I could be mad at him but I loved the way he was looking at me, as if I was the only person that mattered in the world, as if he was about to jump on me to make me feel all the damn feelings he had for me inside him.

"Did I say that?" I just asked with an amused smile before licking my lip, taking a step back.

"Hey, stay with us, we were about to go out for dinner." he quickly proposed as we heard the doors of the elevator open. "You came here to spend time with your friends, right?"

My eyes roamed on him and I finally nodded. "Alright."

----

Niall was still telling me a story when we walked back in our room. It was late but neither of us really cared. I had a small talk with Louis who presented me his new girlfriend Eleanor, and I immediately liked her. Lewis was funny and the way Daxia looked at him made me happy. I tried not to give too much attention to Noah but he still bought me a drink and we had a small chat. All I wanted, though, was to be close to Niall, and I ended up scared he'd be annoyed that I followed him better than his own shadow. At some point, he had placed his hand on my thigh, moving closer to me to ask me if I wanted an other drink, but all I could think about was the fact that he was touching me.

We didn't drink too much though and when we closed the door of our room behind us, I was laughing because he was funny, and not because I was tipsy. He turned around and took a few steps back as I followed him, but when his lips curled into a cheeky smile, it made me frown.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, unable to stop smiling.

"Are you tired?"

I frowned more but it only made his smile bigger. "Mm, no. Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

That question took me by surprise but I didn't have to ask myself the question. The answer came naturally. "Yes."

And I trusted him. I trusted him more than I trusted pretty much anyone, and it was one of the things that scared me in this relationship, whatever it was.

"Thank you." he just whispered, holding out his hand to me.

I breathed in but still slipped my palm on his and quickly, he pulled me out of the room. Instead to take the elevators, he brought me to the stairs and we ran down until the main floor, stopping abruptly in front of a door. I held my breath as Niall opened it very slowly, peeking out for a few seconds and finally holding his hand back for me. I grabbed it and he turned around to look in my eyes, bringing his finger on his lips to tell me to keep quiet. I nodded and followed him on the other side of the door until we reached a second door. He tried to open it but groaned and raised his nose up when he realized it was locked.

"Fuck."

I moved to look through the window and my lips curled when I noticed a pool. The lights of the room were off but there were a few at the bottom of the pool and the sight was great.

"I'm gonna try to steal the keys." he added, taking me out of my thoughts and making me blink.

"No wait!" I stopped him in a whisper, holding his arm. "What if you get caught?"

He sent me a small smile and his eyes roamed on my face before he shook his head. "Don't worry."

He left and I felt my hand slip from his arm. I held my breath and remained motionless as I waited for him to come back and it seemed to take forever. When he appeared again, my heart jumped in my chest, scared that it could be someone else, but he stopped right in front of me as I raised my eyebrows. A smirk quickly draw itself on his lips and he moved his hand up, showing me a  keychain with at least 20 keys on it.

"Okay, I'm impressed." I admitted low, making him chuckle.

It took him a few tries and he finally unlocked the door. We walked in slowly and when he closed the door behind us, I turned around to look at him.

"I don't have a swimsuit." I admitted, tilting my head.

"You have underwear." he chuckled, making me raise my eyebrows. "What? Nothing I haven't seen, isn't it what you said the other day?"

I pressed my lips together and moved my chin in his direction. "You, first."

He chuckled again and without hesitation, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, moving it over his head. I let my eyes travel on his chest as he worked on the button and zipper of his jeans, finally taking them off along with his socks. He looked way too good, illuminated by the soft lights in the pool, and my heart skipped a beat. I moved my gaze up until my eyes met his again and he sent me a soft smile.

"Your turn."