#takes you to an information input form before you can see ANYTHING else

[fireheartedpup]

Someone commented "Trump" on a livestream of Kamala, and their username was "your favorite juice bar owner," so I went to their page and added it to my "Never go here" list >.>

[la2yn0va]

Hello Sensei! In celebration of me finally beating Shadow of Feixiao. Can i humbly request some Shadow the hedgehog like male reader x yandere kafka, Robin, Firefly, Black Swan and Feixiao? The reader was not born really. More like made to be the ultimate lifeform. The reader is one of the top strongest in the universe, being soo powerful that he has to wear special bracelets to contains his powers. He has access to chaos magic and has a few more powers that only he can use. The reader is a loner and doesn't trust anyone reader being someone hard to approach

CW: Yandere Characters.

Note: This. Is my favorite request to date. Yes, it’s because of shadow the hedgehog 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Also you disrespectful bastard! Those ‘bracelets’ are called Inhibitor Rings! Respect the lore, damnit!!

——

Feixiao

She first learned about your existence from General Yueyu. Some creation made years ago that was given the title of ‘ultimate life form’

A creation made to perfectly counter all abominations on the xianzhou, someone so powerful it would take an aeon or two too defeat. Or so she said.

To say little feixiao was interested was a major understatement. If this were true, where were you? What ship were you in? Why hasn’t she heard of you anywhere else?

When she asked yueyu this, the general had a face of regret and sadness, before saying the information was classified.

Years later, she met you, the fabled ‘ultimate life form’ was an enemy of the xianzhou. She couldn’t believe it, Yueyu spoke so highly of you, so why’re you an enemy?

And just like general Yueyu said, you were STRONG. Hell, possibly the strongest being in the entire xianzhou and universe.

But, as a general, it was her duty to stop you. So you two fight, and she gets utterly defeated. She’d never known defeat like this, power like yours. Just WHAT were you?

For the next days, every general and the astral express crew, even the marshal of the xianzhou had confronted to stop you, all the generals were forced to play a supporting role, as the marshal was the only one able to deal damage to you.

However, it didn’t matter, your plan had been successful. Inputting 7 ancient gems into the core of the xianzhou and causing it to self destruct while having some biological monster protecting it.

Feixiao couldn’t believe YOU were meant to be the great savior Yueyu talked so highly about. But then, once the gems were entered, a video began to play on everything and anything that had a screen, reveling the dark truth.

Your creator was betrayed, his granddaughter killed by the xianzhou military! And the marshal herself being the one who betrayed the great doctor. Showing long lost and thought to be destroyed footage of the dark incident Hundreds if not thousands of years ago. (Not doing the 50 years ago, cause why not)

It was at the point everyone lost hope. The marshal herself was a traitor to one of the greatest scientists and ally to the xianzhou, even the generals will were shaken. And the astral express couldn’t help but feel sorrow for you.

But, with a powerful speech from the marshal, everyone’s will and hope were restored and the generals, the nameless, large almost unending numbers of cloud knights, and the marshal went down to stop you.

But, the bio-lizard got in their way. It would see its creators plan through the very end. It was a monster, all cloud knights were flies it swatted dead, the generals focusing all their strength to defeat the lizard.

Only feixiao and the marshal were able to get past the impossibly defense of the lizard, who was luckily for them, to distracted to notice. The two ran down the hallway and saw you, watching the fight through a holographic screen.

Feixiao tried to move towards you, but the marshal stopped her before taking a piece of fallen debris and throwing it towards you, seeing an invisible death shield surrounding you.

Marshal: M/n!! Stop this madness!!

M/n:…you’ve got some nerve. To betray my creator, get Maria killed! And lock me away for years upon years!!

Feixiao: Tsk…! M/n, we need you! Please help us!

Feixiao blurted out, much to the shock of the marshal and m/n.

Feixiao: You were made to be the strongest force for the xianzhou!! Why are you so intent on destroying it!!

M/n:….Doesn’t matter. It's all going according to plan. There's no reason for me to help them. Besides, there's no way to save anyone. All of them are unsaveable, pathetic, and childish. Only then will the marshal feel the consequences of her betrayal!

Feixiao: Forget the marshal! Hate her all you want, but not the people of the xianzhou! There innocent! Was this maria’s last wish!? For you to become the enemy! Hated, feared, a boogeyman!?

Marshal:….I know what I’ve done to you is unforgivable. I know that you’ll never forgive me. Even if you kill me, you’ll never forgive me. But the people of the Xianzhou are innocent. I know that people fight over the most trivial things. Some people may be selfish, like the professor said... but they're good, if they try their best and never give up on their wishes. They always have a reason to be happy; that's why you should help them out! Saving them is a good thing! M/n, I beg you, please do it for them! Give them a chance!

The marshal pleaded, bowing to you much to the shock of feixiao. To see the marshal like this was almost… fictionally impossible. However, Feixiao’s words seemed to strike you, as you remembered Maria’s true last words.

M/n:….Maria….

You said as the marshal and feixiao looked up seeing a horrified and saddened realization dawn on you, a single tear falling down from your face, before you forcibly ripped out one of the ancient gems.

M/n: I…I have to stop this! I have to keep my promise to her!!

You declared before using your monstrous strength to rip out all the emeralds and jump down from the platform, running towards the biolizard.

The biolizard stopped its killing blow on Yanqing and March as it felt a shift. Something had changed, the xianzhou wasn’t shaking… you had betrayed your creator!!

The biolizard released a horrific shriek of rage, shaking the very soul of everyone who heard it. The lizard turned to see you running towards it with the chaos emeralds, as you focused on your sadness, Maria, the professor, and your promise to her—turning super.

Everyone could only watch as the lizard and you fought, each impact shaking the universe itself. A beautiful spectacle infront of them as your speed and strength left them in awe, wondering if your power could rival that of the aeons.

Eventually, the lizard couldn’t contain its rage nor its own existence as you ripped off the machinery that kept it alive, as it expanded, ready to nuke this whole stellar system. But, you saved them, using chaos control to teleport yourself and the lizard away, FAR away. Managing to somehow teleport it to IX itself, having the lizard be swallowed whole by the black hole of the end as it released its final explosion of energy.

—Okay now that the story is over, let’s get to the point of this request—

Your body was blasted away as IX swallowed the biolizard, killing it as its explosion blasted you away. Your body crashed through multiple planets, destroying the rock and any life forms on it before it crashed down onto the xianzhou’s outer ship.

The ship shook and spun horizontally 5 times before stopping. Everyone was confused at what could’ve cause this. The marshal went outside and saw you. You were still alive! After 50 years!?

She took you in and decided to keep your existence a secret for now. She cared for your body until you awoke. After punching the marshal in the face, she began to fill you in on everything that happened after the Great War with you 50 years ago.

Although you’d never forgive her, you needed to keep your promise to Maria. So, you tell her your joining the cloud knights, not to serve her, but to keep maria’s promise.

She agreed and asked what ship you wanted to join. You remembered that foxian/borisin general. Being the first general you fought, and being…unique, you wanted her ship.

Feixiao was then informed of this which shocked her. But, surprisingly, she accepted with what seemed like… joy? Nevertheless, you ran to the yaoqing and met her at the cloud knights headquarters, where she greeted you with friendliness.

Feixiao would have you on the four front of battles, leading a platoon, but you declined. You refused to work with anyone and you would only work alone.

Feixiao felt a little pang hit her but agreed. You were strong enough anyway, so she allowed it. And over the years, she grew close to you.

The battles and bloodshed you two would spill from the borisin was beautiful, watching as your guard slowly but surely lowered around her, seeing you smile only to her made her feel special.

She keeps you as close as she can. Letting you sleep in her house and bed, cooking for you and even wanting to bathe you. Daily trainings with you at the gym, along with hundreds of spars and competitions a day.

To feixiao, you two were already in a relationship. After all you lived together! And you only smiled at her! Of course you loved her back…!

And since you’re completely distrustful of everyone else, the thought of someone stealing you away was laughable and fictional. It’ll never happen.

So, feixiao never overreacts when someone ogles at you or tries to get close to you. Cause 10/10 times, you’d just teleport away from the area.

Kafka

Kafka heard of you from Elio. Apparently you’re supposed to join the stellaron hunters as its final member.

With the help of Sam, she used her webs to catch you and Sam used his mech suit to slow your pace. Simply trying to stop you from falling took all her strength along with firefly’s mecha suit, which made her even more curious about you.

They’d take you back to their little hideout and nurture you until you wake up. Which would only be a month. You wake up and look around, not recognizing the area around you.

Kafka is there though, and she introduces herself to you, along with the entire deal with the ‘stellaron hunters’

Seeing as it was apparently ‘destiny’ that they saved you, and that this would possibly be the best way to up hold your promise, you accept their invitation.

You go on missions and learn about what’s changed in the cosmos since the battle at the xianzhou. Apparently a lot has changed, but none that you care about.

Kafka slowly begins to become infatuated with you, you were just so adorable. The ‘loner’ demeanor of yours that hid the cutie you were was so addicting to her.

She ain’t afraid to show it. She’s blunt with her desires and romantic at the same time. Oh how your adorable face lights up with a blush due to your emotional inexperience~

Kafka LOVES to dress you up and do your hair. Also, she sleeps in your room with you. She knows you love it despite your cute little struggles.

On missions, kafka takes the time to rub her thighs and tits against you, to show everyone exactly who you belong to.

Kafka likes to puppet you closer to her, making you sit on her lap and bringing you in for a HEAAATED 1 hour make out session. Purposefully leaving lipstick on your lips, chin, jawline, and neck.

Robin

Robin like everyone else, had heard of you. How your power was rumored to rival that of the aeons. At first, she couldn’t believe it, someone so strong existing as a mortal? No way, right?

But then she saw you at the main lobby of penacony. Your appearance matched to what she heard of you, down to your hairstyle and the small details of your clothes.

She was amazed by your beauty, and the fact that you were real. She approached you with Sunday, who had his own interest in you.

You blew them off, not interested in some pop star and her brother. They were slightly put off but decided to chase you, still having some questions of their own.

Inside the actual penacony, robin acts as your tour guide. She doesn’t try to dig into your life, as it’s none of her business. But she does want to stick around you.

Your whole dynamic is her wanting to stick around you, and you trying to get away. Let’s skip to when you two eventually get close enough for others to consider you to in a relationship.

Robin is clingy but will let go of you if you ask, and you never ask her to let go as you don’t want to hurt her feelings.

Sunday, much to his dismay, uses robin to get you closer to him and the family’s goal. He plans to use you to successfully enact his plans.

But, you’re extremely distrustful of him and the family. Something about them is just, off. Sunday and the family grow increasingly annoyed at your intuition.

So, they decide to take you by force. They try to use a smaller type of the Harmonious Choir to make you submit. But you easily destroy the mission and go to kill Sunday, only for Robin to step in, begging you to not hurt her brother.

Your eyes grow feral, robin…. How could you be so stupid!? She was in on this! So, you punch her into her brother, spitting on them and declaring them pathetic and a blight of Xipe before leaving forever.

Robin desperately tried to stop you, make you stay with her, but it was no use. Your mind was made up and you couldn’t care less about penacony, Sunday, the family, or robin.

So with one more punch, you leave penacony forever, and Sunday runs to his sister cursing at himself for his failure and for getting his sister hurt.

Robin wasn’t able to be herself for a full month. How could she? The person she loved had left her and hurt her! And her brother was a catalyst to that.

Sunday desperately tries to make it up to robin, but she just can’t bring herself to forgive him. Why did he try that? Why did her hurt YOU. And she hates herself for it.

She hates how weak she is, not being able to stop you, not being able to clear up the obvious misunderstanding between you and the family/her brother.

So, she leaves penacony. She can’t live with the knowledge that you hate her. She’ll track you down and bring you back to her, even if she has to get in her knees and beg.

Black Swan

Black swan teleported you to her little dimension, watching as you crashed into the ground and made the whole place shake.

She’s so interested in you. Your genetical structure, your story, your memories, and your prowess.

Black swan keeps you with her. As she wants to learn a lot about you. She’s patience, and doesn’t try to read your memories, shockingly.

After all, what would happen to her if she tried to pry the memories out of an…. ‘Aeonling?’ It’s just too risky.

She loves to watch you from a far though. You’re just so adorable. That little ‘loner’ demeanor of yours made you even more of a cutie.

Trying to hide your personality from her made her fall harder for you. Also seeing you try to ‘call out her fraudulent divination’ was cute.

She helps you with your trauma while making you more reliant on her. Making you face your trauma in a healthy manner while also manipulating your memories and putting some memories that never happened into your head.

Such as you two going on dates, playing some games, cuddling. Little did you know, she’d cuddle you everytime you went to sleep.

These memories make you ease up to her much quicker, just as she predicted. She holds you close and hums a lullaby for you, while playing with your hair like Maria did.

Firefly

This one short, cause it’s just like kafka, except she’s much more nervous and reserved as firefly, yet more confident as Sam….

Yes, this is the laziness and tiredness catching up to me…. I’m so sorry. I’m just so tired of this and other shit making my anxiety rise.

[selfspinninglies]

Cerebral

tws/cws: body horror, brain fuckery (idk what else to call it), descriptions of overstimulation/sensory ickyness, very brief mentions of both vomiting and self harm, shitty writing from yours truly

wordcount: 929

notes: did a secret santa event in a discord server and this is what I did, but I might end up continuing it . idk yet . I hope they like it because this thing took me foreverrr

Access denied.

Access denied.

Access denied.

Tendrils. Twisting, touching, examining, attaching. Like curious little leeches. Except instead of draining and taking they gave.

Sensations. Textures. Feelings. Information. So much information. They felt like their brain would explode right out of their skull. Buzzing, electrical, diluted thoughts.

They're being exposed to information they never would've known. It's unnatural yet far from artificial. Currents of consciousness flickered in and out, barely understandable among the others. Rain falling into the ocean, individual yet part of the whole.

Unexpectedly, the technodrome wasn't one mind, a strand of being, but an entire network of interconnections, spiraling together like a knot, neverending conflicting thoughts and feelings of their own. Sprawling out into this vessel. The technodrome. They almost forgot where they were.

It was so easy to lose yourself in the constant stream of feelings. Maybe that was on purpose. They weren't sure if it(?) even had programming, but they knew that if it did, everything written in code was purposeful.

A purpose. What was the purpose of this thing? It felt wrong to call it that. A thing. It was a living database, collections of information and ideas. Like brains, almost, even if artificial. How advanced was kraang technology? Questions, yet no answers.

Another thread among the others. Their thoughts buzzed along with the rest. Lost among the current. Wondering if they would even get a response. Inputs, outputs.

Error messages blare in the background. Panic. What was happening? There was a disconnect from their outer vessel body. It was barely theirs. Poking and prodding. Examination. Was it fit for use? Leeches again. Inspection. Mess of tentacles. Sensory hell, slime and feelings and fluid and gross. Eugh. Don't slip back, focus. What happened.

Access denied.

Access denied.

Access denied? To what? They weren't trying to access anything. Everything was orderly until a few moments ago. A disturbance. Busy. No more poking.

Noise. Outside noise. Voices. Talking. External. Threat. Familiar voices. Who?

The asset you are trying to access is occupied.

...Asset? Which asset? What was trying to access it?

It was incredibly difficult to see outside of the console. Despite having an external form, it wasn't as active or useful because of the disturbance. Plus they weren't sure how to function it while being able to concentrate on other things. Everything was foreign. New. Scary. what am i even doing what is happening nononono everything is wrong all wrong wrong wrong wrong

Responses. Electrical sensations. Everything was fine. Everything would be as long as this thing threat was gone.

Movements, pulling, dragging, attachment. Leeches are back. This time their body was being moved, puppeted, not simply inspected. It was fit for use. A good vessel. No longer theirs.

Their vision is shifted out of wherever it was before. Everything is blurred and yellow-tinted, like they're looking through a dirty camera lense.

They try to blink to clear their vision. Nothing happens. They try to move something, anything, desperately, but nothing happens.

They feel things happening. Their body being altered to better fit its new purpose.

Tendrils trail around their body, sticking onto their scales and fusing with their being. It felt horrid. Sickening sensations. They would've vomited by now if they had any semblance of control.

Their skin feels itchy and gross. They can do nothing to fix it. Scratch it get it off out out get out of me get off leave please this is mine not yours off-

Their body shambles towards whatever was infront of them. Their vision was still strange, so they couldn't really tell, but they could make out colors. Different shades of green. Red, blue, orange..

Wait.

shit shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT nononono anything but this shit FUCK.

The threat had been identified.

Maybe they would get lucky. Maybe it wouldn't be able to pilot their body well enough to do any damage. They knew this was all wishful thinking, but if there was any time for irrational thoughts it was probably now.

They didn't doubt their siblings abilities, but they didn't doubt theirs either. They'd kicked a lot of ass, and this made their body stronger. It didn't have any sense of mercy either, so in short, them and everyone involved were fucked.

Like an idiot, they tried to move their body again. The definition of insanity was trying the same thing over and over again in hopes of a different result, so maybe they've lost it. It was better then doing nothing and letting it happen. They hoped that somehow their efforts would amount to something, even though they knew better.

Their body moved again, (if you could even call it theirs anymore) getting closer to their siblings. It seemed inexperienced with piloting a body like theirs, but it was unfortunately a fast learner. Shuffling quickly turned into full steps. Closer, closer.

They weren't sure what was happening anymore. As time went on they felt more distant from their physical form. The dissonance of the technodrome's inner workings began to buzz in the back of their mind again. They felt themself slipping despite their rising panic and desperate efforts.

Despite their hatred for metaphors they felt like they were a fly in a spider's web. Trying and struggling again and again with no result. Small. Afraid. Unable to fix anything. Save themself.

Everything felt distant. They felt their hands grip something metal. High grade titanium familiar against their palms, familiar shape curled around their fingers. Thoughts about fighting tactics and a specific battle style being picked through.

They didn't know what happened next.

[dwtdog]

im really really stressed about how it will go,

i dont i just, support system wise i have almost nothing

these guys are kinda it and one person whos neutral

its just the aftermath, i dont know if everything will be okay and i get so stressed about it

my tummy issues been fucking me up man

anon :( i'll do my best to give u some general advice, but if u need anything please don't be afraid to dm me <3

the thing that really helps me through these type of situations is sitting with myself and thinking okay, what's the most likely thing that's going to happen, and how am i going to feel about that.

to start with what i think will be the outcome, the only things we know for certain that are going to happen are caiti's final statement/stream, and george's final statement.

based on what caiti has said, her final stream is going to be more general, and i assume she's going to discuss the problems with misogyny within the mcyt space, or something similar, along with the future of her content. i do not think she will say anything more directly about the situation, and if she does i don't think it will be new information, except to maybe clear up the story ghostie told

for george's statement, judging by what the rational sides of the internet are calling for and his most recent tweet, i think he is going to give a sincere apology, no matter what form that may come in, along with some sort of private, personal apology to caiti that we may never see. some people will accept what he has to say, and others will continue to call him terrible names that do not fit the situation at all. and from there, we move onward (press w :3)

i can't predict how you're going to react to these events happening, but if a look at myself, i know that i'll probably watch caiti's stream as a vod, so i can give myself time to pause and take breaks. i want to try to watch the stream before seeing others input, so i can form my own opinions without going in feeling overly negative/positive.

worse case scenario- she says something that completely puts me off the space as a whole. i don't know what that would be, maybe just some observations she's made as a female creator in the space that puts a bad taste in my mouth, and i no longer feel comfortable being here at all. in that case, i disengage completely, or let myself sit and think on it for a bit before coming to a final decision

best case scenario (realistically)- caiti does her stream, and she talks about many of the things we already know about as problems with the space, and we take that as closure from the whole thing, and send our love and support.

when george's response comes, rinse and repeat. take the time to read/watch through it without the influence of others, and come to you own conclusion before looking what anyone else has to say. do not look at twitter. if you feel that his response is satisfying to you- however that may be- than assess how active you wish to be in the community going forward, what you want to spend your time doing online. and then we heal together, as a community.

and eventually, things will get better. dream and george might take hiatuses, but i find it very, very unlikely they'll quit entirely. eventually, we'll get titan videos and the plethora of shorts and content that dream has planned, even if a wrench has been thrown into the plans

obviously, we can never predict unexpected elements, but i genuinely believe that if something big were going to drop, it would have already. don't let the behind the scenes bullshit get you down, because it always comes from ccs who either hold grudges or are trying to save their own skin/get views

hope this helps at least a little bit, but please, please reach out if you need anything. no matter the responses caiti and george give, i'll stick around to talk to u guys

[moddymoon]

ABDL registration?

Yesterday I spotted a "ABDL community registration" and I thought I'd take a look at it, to see if there's stuff that was there that set off obvious alarm bells.

The first thing that is an "obvious alarm bell" which honestly, is something that is hard to spot with it. "Registration" costs $99.00.

What does this get you? Well, it gets you "registered". What exactly does that mean? I could say what I think it means, but as to why you would pay that kind of money (it's certainly not insignificant) and what they say it means... I have no idea...

What I think it means, is that it commits you to paying more money to them. Let's remember. This is not actually something that is anything other than a "single" place that is asking for this. It's not anything vaguely official that anyone else is recoginsing.

That's the most obvious alarm bell to me. Even $25.00 would be a fair amount to be offering in any of these situations unless you are really getting some good idea as to what it's for, and what you're getting into. Which so far I've not seen evidence of.

But let's look at the information they are asking for:

legal name (practically no one needs this, if you're not dealing with a government agency, for the most part no one actually needs this, many still will refuse service without it, but if it's not an institution directly reporting to the government, it's not justified... Doctors, lawyers, engineers, maybe? Not that it's needed).

Little name... OK fair. Though not needed.

Age/little age... Maybe fair, if we know what services we're really registering for.

Email... Yeah you're going to have at least some form of contact, and this is fair.

Phone no real reason for this (though some may prefer phone over email, and it could be a back up).

Address... OK, another rather problematic thing... Similar to the legal name. Maybe not quite as bad, as it's not quite as dangerous. If you are getting service/deliveries it makes sense, but at this point... there's no evidence that there even is a service, and whether it's at your location or not is hard to know.

"Role" which is fair, but how they've set it up is terrible. People easily can have multiple roles, and that should be easy to handle.

"I'm subscribing" there's three options, you can select one of the three options. It's not clear what the three options actually mean.

level of experience... Yeah, though not sure the way it's put is useful.

ABDL gears... Now it's not clear what this is referring to, but hey nothing really wrong here.

desired session location This is useful for getting input. Like whether a person would be interested in what type of service. It's not useful with the $99.000 fee... It could be looking at whether a given service has any demand. Now again... You can only select one item of the 3 offered.

Covid vaccine status... "Yes," "No," or "Other"? What is "other?" Really.

Demenour requested... Big long list, and only one option can be selected.

Availability... It's just a text field.

Fetishes to focus on (not really very clear what this is, the design is poor).

Roleplay experience... It's useful, but meaningless terms...

Disability status (first optional one)... Useful, but considering what is here... I would say not likely to be properly accommodated, and honestly... They don't ask any info about it beyond if it exists.

Picture...

OK... The thing here is there is almost nothing here that is really needed at the point of getting this filled.

It's not really worth even considering it. Even before spotting this level of private information they are explicitly gathering.

[mana-projects]

Home insurance guide for first property buyers

If you dream of buying your own home someday, you’re not alone. There are numerous people who wish to have a house in their name someday. But that dream being transformed into reality is not something that’ll happen in a day. Having your own property requires patience, hard work, and, of course, financial discipline.

But before you buy your own home, there are several things that you need to plan. You have to take measures on how you’ll cover losses in case something goes the other way around. Issuing for home insurance tops that list.

Home insurance is basically a form of insurance policy that provides security for your property in cases of losses brought on them. The type of insurance clarifies what losses it’ll cover in particular.

Since buying a home is one of the largest investments for many, here’s a guide to make things clear for first-time buyers:

● Make sure you know the different types of home insurance and what your insurance plan covers

Home insurance policies are basically of two different types- building or structure insurance and content insurance. Building insurances cover the damages to your physical property (for eg, damages caused by natural calamities or man-made perils.) Content insurance covers the damages caused to the personal belongings (for eg., jewelry, appliances, etc.) inside the home.

● Understand what you need

Before you issue a home insurance plan, it is important to assess what you need. Make sure you consider the complete cost of your property and your belongings, and estimate what it’d cost for rebuilding. Only when you’ve checked all of the boxes, try out what coverage you need.

● See what’s excluded from the plan

It is equally important to know what’s not in your plan as it is to know what is covered. You should be fully aware of the times when your financial losses won’t be covered by the insurer. Usually, your policy document will hold all the necessary details about the same. So make sure to thoroughly read it!

● Weigh it well before finalizing

Before you finalize your policy plan, consider checking plans from multiple insurance providers. Comparing will help you discover the right coverage at the best price. Try looking for policies which are offering comprehensive coverage.

● Always provide accurate details

Providing the right information while issuing your insurance is essential. Wrong inputs can lead to denied claims in the future or even complete cancellation of the policy. Make sure you enter all the accurate details for both content and structure for the insurer to provide coverage.

● Consider the add-ons

The add-ons are a handy way to include coverage on items that are otherwise excluded from the plan. For eg., liability insurance is additional coverage that protects your property against legal liability.

● Documentation during the time of the claim

While you want your loss to be covered, filing the claim is the primary process. Thus, you should know what are the necessary documents required which, in turn, will help in a quick settlement. The set of documents required is usually mentioned in the plan itself.

● Check once you get the fine print

Once the fine print is handed over, tally the information with the coverage promised. Make sure you read the inclusions, exclusions, and limitations.

● Keep reviewing your policy plan

Your insurance plan should be reviewed regularly and updated too. In case you make any changes to your belongings or property, you will be expected to update the same.

Wrap up

Home insurance shouldn’t be overlooked while buying a new home. Since it is a pretty large investment, every possibility should be considered. Thus, obtaining home insurance is just as crucial as getting anything else for your new settlement. If you’re a first-time buyer, this guide must have helped you understand what you should consider while getting home insurance.

Dreaming of buying properties in Sarjapur Road? Mana has got your back. See our great expanse of projects and flats in Sarjapur Main Road to find your ideal residence.

Trust us when we say that we say that we’ve built up the dream residence for all successful professionals!

[kidcorvidae]

please read the thread OP linked on how exactly AI art models work before arguing with me.

okay. now that we’re back, i would like to walk you through a thought experiment.

is this pile of candy, called Untitled or Portrait of Ross in L.A., a work of art?

many of you know of this installation already, but for those who don’t, its creator was a queer artist named felix gonzalez-torres.

Félix González-Torres (1957-1996) started a series of works in 1990 that all consist of small, hard candies in variously coloured wrappers. They are either spread out in rectangles on floors or put into piles. Some other works in this series are called Untitled (Lover Boys) and Untitled (Welcome Back Heroes). In each instance viewers are invited to take a piece of candy—to suck on, to keep, to share. This, of course, risks the loss of the installation entirely, but the instructions are that they are to be constantly replenished with an endless supply. Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A) comes with instructions from the artist to keep it at an ideal weight of 175 lb.

Although it avoids literal representation, this is a work about queer desire, queer bodies, and queer history. It is named after his love and life partner, Ross Laycock, and is about his personal experience of AIDS as well as the AIDS Crisis as a whole. The ‘ideal weight of 175 lb’ is a reference to Ross’ healthy weight, which diminished because of the virus. Ross died from complications due to AIDS on January 24th, 1991, and Félix would go on to make this work later that same year. (source)

gonzales-torres did not make or wrap the candy. he did not create the installation. he does not participate in the consumption actively, although i imagine he would have if he visited a museum with the piece displayed before his passing. he does not have any control on the specific brand of candy that curators do except iirc a suggestion. by no standard did he "create" this in the sense that people who care about AI art discourse would agree on.

yet somehow, it is abundantly clear that this is a work of art that was created by gonzales-torres.

art is so much more than the mechanical process taken to render its visage. in my opinion, the most important part of art is a vision, a specific goal or experience or interaction that the medium of the art form is intended to evoke. whether that vision is mundane & simple or so unique & evocative that it brings you to tears, it’s still art.

anything can be art, even a list of instructions, so long as it has a vision or desire or expression behind it. even art created via AI generation.

a human is still inputting prompts, you know. a human is still fiddling with the what words to use to get this tool to create a particular visual message. even if message is generic slop, even if it’s ugly or strange or boring, it’s still fucking art if it has an intention behind it.

AI generators do NOT make collages (see above thread), but since people like to use it as a talking point, collages are art too! taking the exact physical words and images someone else created and arranging them into a new position according to your own design is art! using pieces that others created to build something different is the literal basis of all human creativity and ingenuity.

additionally, there is no such thing as original art. everything you have ever made was inspired or informed by thousands or millions of similar things that came before it made by other people, whether you know it or not. there is literally nothing new, only different. this is not a bad thing.

the sooner everyone can get off their high horse about the sanctity of art and what’s “real”, the better off we’ll be. the fact that corporations are using AI models to exploit their employees and put people out of jobs and the potential for misinformation are the real issues here, and that has NOTHING to do with how artistically authentic or creatively original AI models can be. building strong unions and labor protections is what matters, and that is what will help creative professions the most. idk how to solve the misinformation issue honestly, but talking about any solution is better than waffling about “real” art.

i mentioned that AI art is a good tool for disabled people and someone was like "disabled people can make art without it!!! arm amputees can use prosthetics or paint with their feet, most digital art apps have stabilization for people with tremors!!" like yeah... amputations and tremors... the only 2 disabilities...

real talk I am not fucking learning to paint with my feet. why don’t you do it if it’s so easy. Fuck off (that is to say I agree with you anon)

[beels-burger-babe]

Of Jealousy and Friendship - Pt. 2

**I'd like to first take a second thank @obey-mes-treasure for being so awesome being a beta reader for me for this! Your input really helped! Thank you so much 💓

Also THANK YOU EVERYONE SO SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE YOU'VE GIVEN THIS FIC, I'm so blown away that you guys really like this that much! I love you all ❤❤

GN! MC

Summary: MC makes a lower demon friend who may secretly be hoping for something more than friendship. The Demon Bros are not about to let this happen.

TW: Scenting (NOT SEX! I REPEAT! It is intimate, yes, but we’re just cuddling here. I put this just in case)

Part One: Here, Epilogue: Here

Previously on Of Jealousy and Friendship:

With another nod, the demon, Cane left, leaving you alone with six of the seven brothers bubbling with jealousy, anger, and concern.  

The moment Cane was out of sight, Mammon, still in his demon form, grabbed onto your wrist and began to drag you inside. 

You yelped at the tightness of his grip and tried to pull your hand away. “Hey! Mammon, stop it! That hurts!” 

The second born merely growled and tossed you onto the couch. As you looked up you were met by the fierce glares of several of the brothers and looks of disappointments from the rest.

“What the hell were ya thinkin’?” Mammon wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t screaming. His voice remained low and steady with a dangerous venom that dripped off every word. “Ya can’t just go frolickin’ through the Devildom with some second-rate demon ya just met. Especially not when ya haven’t told any of us where ya went or how long you’d be out. You could’ve been killed tonight, MC! And none of us would’ve known!”

You returned his glare as you shifted yourself to sit up on the couch. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m allowed to make my own decisions. You guys don’t control me! If I want to make friends and hang out after school, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” 

“We aren’t trying to control you, MC,” Beelzebub calmly stated. He stared down at you with a concerned frown and furrowed brows. “We just want to make sure that you’re safe. You know from experience how dangerous it is down here, and we want to keep you from getting hurt any more than you already have.” 

“Besides that demon, Cane I believe you called him,” Satan began, his arms still crossed in restrained frustration, “was clearly after something a little more than friendship.” 

You blinked at Satan in confusion before glancing at the others, who all seemed to be awaiting your response. “Wh-What...What are you talking about? Cane’s just a friend.” 

Belphegor tsked and rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Diavolo, please tell me you are not this stupid. He’s saying that the pest obviously had a crush on you or at the very least wanted to get into your pants.” 

“Which we can’t entirely blame him for, I mean, look at you, darling, you’re delicious,” Asmodeus said  matter-of-factly as you squawked in protest. “But he stepped out of place,” the Avatar of Lust’s eyes flashed as he gritted his teeth. 

You felt your confusion grow more and more inside of you as questions swarmed inside your head. “I don’t understand.” 

Lucifer sighed and looked over at Beelzebub. “Go get Levi. He’ll want to be here for this discussion.” 

You frowned as Beel left the room and looked over at Lucifer. “What discussion? You guys are making no sense!” You ran a frustrated hand through your hair as you groaned. “I get it. I should’ve been more cautious and let you guys know in advance. I’m sorry,” your eyes desperately searched Lucifer’s gaze for answers. “But there’s really no need for this...this intervention! I’m fine! He didn’t hurt me. I’m-” 

“Scented.” 

You whipped around at Levi’s voice.  He stood in the entry way with Beel, his face bright red as he held a hand over his mouth and nose and shakily pointed at you. “He scented you. Y-You let him scent you?” 

Lucifer face palmed himself and slowly let his hand fall off his face in clear annoyance. “We were just about to get to that, Leviathan.” Lucifer’s black and red eyes found your own as he raised a single eyebrow. “What do you know about scenting?” 

Your head tilted, even more dumbfounded than before. “You mean that were-wolf thing?” 

“WHAT?! NO, IT’S NOT A WERE-WOLF THING YOU NORMIE!!!” Levi shouted, clearly flustered by the topic. “Scenting i-is a... i-i-it’s...when two people...GAAAAAH!” he let out a shout as he threw himself into one of the chairs and hid his face in a cushion. “Someone else explain it, please! I-I can’t do this! It’s too high level!”

The brothers all exchanged glances, all in varying states of blush, as they silently debated on who would explain the apparently taboo subject. 

Eventually it was Lucifer who cleared his throat and seemed to be attempting to appear unbothered by all of this. “As you know demons are very possessive creatures. We don’t particularly like when others meddle with things that either belong to us or that we are fond of. As a result of this behavior and our heightened sense of smell, when a demon finds a person whom they are greatly fond of, we have the tendency to transfer our scent onto that person’s being, clothing, and belongings. It’s meant to be a consensual act of intimacy and a mark of one’s close bond with someone. It strictly marks that person as “off-limits” to all other demons.”

You blinked a couple times as you took in the information, your cheeks heating up. “A-And you said Cane did that to me?” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but then was suddenly hit by a flashback of the two of you dancing at the club. You could remember the music pulsing around the two of you and the way that Cane kept holding onto your shoulder, waist, or wrist with lingering touches. Thinking back on it, you remembered finding it odd that someone was so touchy with someone they just met, but blamed it on the cramped space that the dance floor provided. Your stomach twisted at the newly revealed implication. “S-So he was scenting me without me even knowing?” The brothers’ concern and anger suddenly made a lot more sense as a wave of guilt and unease washed over you. 

Mammon huffed, avoiding eye contact with you. “Exactly. The guys an asshole. I’ve been wanting to scent ya since we made a pact but ya don’t see me gettin’ all touchy feely!” He froze, with wide eyes as he realized what he just said. “I-I-I mean, what?! Pfft! Who would want to scent a human like you! Not-Not the GREAT Mammon, that’s for sure! I-It makes so sense!” 

The brothers collectively sighed. “Mammon, you absolute moron.” Belphegor mumbled as he shook his head. 

“OI! SHUT IT!” 

Asmodeus laughed and plopped himself into the seat beside you. “Please Mammon. You being love-sick over MC is old news. There’s no use even trying to cover it up. But even so, we all know there’s no way you’d be the first one MC chooses to scent them,” he draped an arm over your shoulder and leaned in close, “It’d obviously be me, right~?”

Levi scoffed from where he was still hiding behind the cushion on the chair. “Wh-Whatever. Not that it even matters now. That nobody of a demon already scented them. Now none of us will get to be their first...” He squeaked as he trailed off, suddenly shooting up from the chair. “I-I mean the first to scent you! N-Not anything weird! Not that you would do either of those things with a yucky otaku like me. I mean that kind of stuff only happens in animes.”

The brothers all went quiet after the first part of Levi’s rambling and seemed to become lost in their own train of thought. Your jaw dropped a little as realization finally clicked in. They hadn’t just been concerned about you missing or angry about you being so reckless... “You all wanted to scent me,” the room froze at your words. “That’s why you were all so frustrated when I came back with him. You were jealous.”

“What?! N-No!” Mammon sputtered in defense, weakly glaring at you. “I don’t get jealous! I’m Mammon! Avatar of Greed, second born of the Lords of Devildom! I can have anything I want! I especially don’t get jealous over wimpy, pathetic-” “Yes we were jealous.” Lucifer admitted, effectively cutting off Mammon and surprising everyone. He met your eyes and smirked. “Is that particularly surprising? I thought we had all been quite clear with our fondness of you.”

“Scenting you would have many benefits. It would help keep you safer when you’re alone. It’d also establish that, similar to how we all are yours through the pacts, you’d then be seen as ours by all demonic beings,” Satan smiled as he placed a hand under his chin, seemingly unaffected by the implications of his own words. “The idea is certainly appealing, don’t you think?” 

You gaped at the group of them as your face became hot with blush. You weren’t expecting this. Even as you threw the idea into the air, you were not expecting the emotionally constipated brothers that you had become so fond of to actually admit that they cared about you.  “You all...H-How would that even work?”

“Well we’d get his nasty, normie scent off of you for starters,”  Levi mumbled not quite as quietly as he meant to, and squeaked when he realized just how loud his words were. “I-It’s true! Scenting them will be more difficult since they’re already coated in his scent!” 

Beel nodded scrunching up his nose. “It does smell bad. It really doesn’t mix well with your scent at all.” 

Asmo nuzzled his head against your shoulder. “We’d have to cuddle you all night to cover it up. Not that any of us would mind~”  You yelped as Belphie plopped himself by your other side and put his head in your lap. “I suppose I can just sleep with you as my pillow.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times as you felt your heart leap into your throat with all the sudden attention. After all the revelations of the night, the sudden contact just seemed too overwhelming.

“That is if you would allow this, MC.” Lucifer sharply cut in, causing Asmo and Belphie to stiffen. “It’s like you said. We don’t control you. We will continue to respect that and you regardless of your decision,”

Belphegor huffed and looked up at you. “Well? Are you gonna let us scent you or not?” 

The air tensed as each of the brothers waited with bated breath for your answer.

You gulped as you thought about it for a minute. Being in the center of a cuddle pile of seven of the most powerful demons of the Devildom wouldn’t be that bad would it? Besides, it’s not like you didn’t love them all in their own special way. They annoyed you from time to time, and knew how to push your buttons, but at the end of the day, you all cared for another and you could depend on that. You knew that no matter what happened, they would always look out for you, and by the sounds of things this whole scenting thing would allow them to keep you safe even if they weren’t around. You could feel your heart warm at the sentiment of it all. 

Your decision made, you smiled softly at them. 

“I think I’d like that.”

Asmodeus let out a cheer and instantly starting snuggling up close to your arm as he nuzzled his face into your neck, causing you to giggle and gently push him back a little.

Belphie shrugged and closed his eyes as he laid back down on your lap. He was obviously trying to act as though he didn’t care, but the small smile that graced his lips gave him away in an instant.

Mammon’s face became extremely flushed as he shoved Asmodeus off of you. “Oi! Don’t hog, MC! Y-You’re not the only one here!” He avoided your eyes as he shakily took your hand into his and stared at the two of them intertwined.

Asmodeus snorted and merely moved over to the other arm, “If you’re going to claim one of the prime cuddling spots Mammon, at least do something that’s actually effective in scenting them.” You made the choice to mentally block out Mammon as he started arguing with Asmo.

Beel stood awkwardly beside you. “I’ll, uh, I’ll take up too much space for the others if I go by your side. So I was thinking maybe it’d be best if I sat behind you?”

You smiled fondly at the gentle giant and, with a bit of effort and complaining from the others, moved forward enough to make room for Beel to sit down behind you. Once comfy, you felt his two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you against his chest with a satisfied hum.

Satan pushed up the sleeves of his jacket and took a seat beside Mammon. “Since Mammon’s too idoitic to scent this side properly, I suppose I will have to suffice,” he smirked as he tilted his head. “If you don’t mind that is?”

You huffed in amusement, much to Mammon’s displeasure, and nodded in consent.

Satan grinned brightly and began to rub his inner wrist along your shoulder and neck. He inhaled gently and sighed in relief, seemingly pleased with the result of his action before resting his head on your shoulder and continuing his ministrations. “Contact from one’s inner wrist to another’s neck or wrist is one of the most effective ways to scent someone. You can rest assured that you won’t smell anything like him by the time we are through.” 

You chuckled and patted Satan’s head. “Thank you, Satan.”

You glanced over at Levi as he shifted from foot to foot looking over at you anxiously. “Are you going to join us, Leviathan?”

His face turned bright red as he tensed at the question. “A-Are you sure you want a gross shut-in like me to scent you? C-Cause everyone will know! You won’t be able to h-h-hide it at school or pretend like it d-didn’t happen or-”

“Levi?” His head shot up as he looked at you once more. He gave him a reassuring smile and patted your other leg that wasn’t being used as a pillow by Belphie. “Get over here, please.”

He sputtered for a second before nodding, and nearly tripping over himself as he rushed over to the cuddle pile and hesitantly placed his head on your leg.

You could feel your heart flutter at being surrounded and held by the demons that you had come to love, but it still wasn’t perfect yet. You looked over at Lucifer, who stood watching the group with an uncharacteristically soft expression, in confusion.

Lucifer understood your thoughts without you even having to speak them. “I’m in no rush. Now that we have your consent, I’m sure there will be another time when I can personally scent you without the annoyances of my brothers being around.” He stood and began to leave the room. “Enjoy your night. I will see you tomo-”

“Lucifer.” You commanded, causing him to tense and freeze on the spot. “Get your pompous ass over here.”

The demon sighed and turned around, making his way back over to you. He moved between you and Asmo, and nudged Beel to scootch over, before settling in slightly behind you, nuzzling in close. “You really are insufferable.” He mumbled as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

You grinned, feeling joy and content buzz within you at finally being in the arms of your found family. In that moment, everything felt right and whole.

[djarrex]

Pretty please can we have something where Echo and TBB find out Rex and reader are expecting? Bonus points for Omega's reaction cause I wonder sometimes whether she knows much about the natural way babies are made? I figure she wouldn't have need of that information in the Kaminoans' eyes.

I wanna preface this by expressing the joy I feel and the appreciation I have when you guys come into my inbox asking or wanting to talk about Post-Order 66 Rex and fam. I love it SO MUCH you have no idea :’)

So, if you remember, Hunter was briefly in Insatiable and has a couple lines of dialogue - he even congratulates them on the pregnancy and wishes them well in case he doesn’t see them soon - which is shown during Rex + reader + Hunter’s short interaction. The squad is told the happy news before the events of that particular installment, and I’m thinking that it happens when Rex contacts them to ask if they would be able meet him on [planet] for a little help with [mission].

Find the rest of the series and related works in the Post-Order 66 Rex ML

Let’s go back in time when Rex makes contact with TBB, which preludes the events of Insatiable: (pregnant!reader, TBB + Omega finds out, about 1.6k words)

<<<>>>

"We’re being hailed.” 

All members on board the Marauder drop what they’re doing and turn their attention to Echo, who had just called out and is signaling for everyone to congregate in the cockpit. Hunter sheathes the knife he’d been twirling in his fingers and nods before stepping towards the rear of the ship and calling for Omega, while Wrecker sets down Gonky and waves her over. Tech and Echo are already sat in the cockpit, getting the signal steady for the incoming transmission to come through.

"What is it?" Omega jumps down from the gunner's nest - now her room thanks to Wrecker's kind heart and creativity - and joins her brothers in the cockpit. The pilot seats are swiveled around and facing the small space in the center of all of them - the bust of a familiar captain popping into view. "Oh, it's Rex! Hi Rex!" She waves at his translucent blue form with a giddy smile plastered on her face. “Where is-”

"Hello Omega," you chime in with a smile as your head pops into the perimeter of the holo. Her sweet face lights up even more, and her eyes move back and forth between you both, unsure of whom to focus on. From the room you’re still staying at in a high-rise located in Yerbana City, the two of you exchange quick greetings with the five who are currently traveling through hyperspace.

“What’s goin’ on, Rex?” The gentle giant asks with a grin and hands placed on his hips. The captain straightens his stance and crosses his armored arms across his chest plate, and instead of directing his impending response to Wrecker, Rex’s attention turns to Hunter, who’s leaned against the frame at the threshold of the cockpit. A moment passes as the two share a nonverbal understanding before Rex opens his mouth - the focusing pairs of eyes on one another.

“I wanted to see if your squad would be available to help me out.” You quietly observe each individual who are all appearing on your end as full-body projections, landing on Omega to where she’s sitting on top of their Gonk droid - her hands folded neatly in her lap, legs swinging.

“Name it.” Echo is quick to respond with a affirmative nod as he meets the eyes of each member - cutting off Hunter before the sergeant can get a word in. Rex’s oldest friend found himself caught at the receiving end of a very slight glare coming from directly across from him, and begins to backtrack. “I-”

“What is it, Captain?” Hunter interjects.

You sort of tune out the rest, having already been given the spiel by Rex long before you’d suggested for him to contact Hunter for some much-needed assistance. It’s a simple mission: scouting out an abandoned base in hopes to obtain supposedly valuable information from the obsolete Republic database and perhaps to also restock on munitions if there’s anything left there. Normally this would be something Rex could manage on his own, though his thoughts have been a little busy since the start of your extended stay in Yerbana. The two of you ended up taking a little much-needed ‘vacation’ in the repopulating capitol city after receiving the incredible news, and you’re just now getting back into the swing of things. Well, for the most part. Rex doesn’t quite trust his focus as of late with far too many other important things swarming around in his mind, and is worried that he'd make a mistake doing the mission solo, no matter how simple the objective appears to be.

Hunter accepts without resistance, and confirms that they'll meet the two of you just outside the abandoned base immediately after they’ve finished their current objective for Cid, which will probably be in another eighteen hours or so. Rex transmits the coordinates, and it falls silent; the awkward clearing of the throat coming from Rex crackles through the air on their end.

“Somethin’ else, Rex?”

“Actually, yeah. We have some news.” Rex grins and rubs at his nape, and you can't help but to smile wide at him from your position at his side. The squad members all share a glance - a mixture of raised, inquisitive brows and narrowed, concerned eyes. Hunter steps closer to the projection, caution engrained within the features of his half-inked face as he crosses his arms.

“Tell them, love,” your sweet voice of reassurance crackles with the brief wavering signal - your hand laying to rest on his pauldron. Rex chuckles down at his feet and grabs your hand to bring it up to his chest, squeezing gently as he begins to acknowledge the others.

“Everything okay, you two?”

“Based on their lifted expressions and display of affection towards one another, it appears that this ‘news’ is of a positive, exuberant nature.”

You can’t help but laugh at Tech being Tech, which results in mixed reactions at the other end of the call. Rex inhales deep - the air quietly seeping through his nostrils on the exhale. “We’re, uh- we’re gonna have a baby.” His lit up eyes drop to his boots and he’s smirking at his feet as soon as the words leave his lips. You watch as the multiple pair of eyes widen with smiles creeping their way onto each member of the squad’s faces, but the first person to audibly respond is Tech - his focus not lifting from the device held in his hands.

“Are you certain?” All heads snap in Tech’s direction to where he’s leaned forward in the pilot’s seat, elbows resting on his thighs, continuing to tap away at the datapad. Smacking his bother’s knee, Echo squints at Tech and shakes his head.

“Yes, Tech,” you giggle as your hand releases from Rex’s and moves to rest against the beginnings of your baby bump, though you’re unsure if they are able to see either one of you from the chest down. “The bun has been confirmed as baking in the oven. We risked a brief visit to the local med center here, so, we’re certain.”

“Well then.” Tech’s brows lift above the rim of his goggles as he readjusts the spectacles with a finger pushing between them. “Felicitations to you both. That is quite extraordinary news. It seems that I was correct in-”

“That’s so wonderful!” Omega exclaims with the largest grin - hopping off the GNK and clapping her hands excitedly as she approaches you. “When are you getting the baby? Are we going to see the baby when we meet them at the rendezvous, Hunter?”

“Of course you're going to see the baby, Omega,” you answer softly for Hunter, giving him a quick smile and nod, saving him from having to explain. “It won’t be for quite a few months, though. Not until after the baby is born.” Omega’s brows pinch together in confusion, and you cautiously elaborate, unsure of what she already knows as far as what the natural-born process entails. “The baby has to grow inside of me first, and that takes a little while.”

"Inside of you?" Her curiosity is absolutely adorable. She turns to her brothers - soft eyes flickering to each one of them.

"You see, Omega, when-"

"Uh, Tech?" Rex clears his throat, and the intelligent trooper is quick to get the hint - closing his mouth and resuming to silently tap at the datapad. Echo is next to chime in, and he’s smiling like a fool, eyes wide.

“You’re gonna be a dad, eh? Wow... that’s- that’s just incredible, brother.”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!” Wrecker very loudly exclaims, and Omega and you share giggles at his enthusiasm.

“Technically, Wrecker, we are all going to be ‘uncles’ since Rex is our brother, genetically speaking. Therefore, any offspring he may produce would be considered as our nieces and nephews. That is how the nat-borns conduct their family trees.” Tech punctuates his statement with a sure nod - speaking with his finger raised in the air so as to draw attention to his point.

You’re so lost in the way Rex’s eyes continue to positively sparkle with pride and adoration as his brothers and Omega shower the two of you with congratulatory praises that you’re forgetting to respond to all of them.

“We appreciate it, everyone,” you say with an ear-to-ear grin - beaming at Rex. 

“We’ll see you all soon,” Rex concludes, “Stay safe out there.” 

The holo vanishes as the transmission disconnects, leaving the squad on board the Marauder to go over some more details of their next objective as well as to process the news.

“So...” Wrecker turns around and leads Gonky back to where he was benching the power droid before the call. “What do ya think Rex is gonna do?”

Hunter raises the brow bordered with dark ink. “What do you mean?”

“Are they going to keep this up, now that they’re going to have a kid? You know, the missions and stuff?”

“We have Omega,” Tech inputs matter-of-factly as he prepares the ship for exit from hyperspace. “And we are managing just fine, barring our dwindling ration supply.” Omega smiles sheepishly, but nods with confidence.

“Rex is a good man.” Echo swivels his seat around and sits up straight, meeting the four pair of eyes now gazing back at him. “Always tried to do what was best for his men, his brothers, and still does, even if it's beyond his control or out of his hands. Now that Rex is... free,” Echo puts the most stress into that word as it’s spoken - glancing down at his feet and chewing the inside of his cheek before continuing, “He’s in control of his life, and is able to choose his own path. And that path will lead to what’s best for his family.”

<<<>>> 

everyone tags:

@bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @damerondala @buckethead-over-heels @purgetroopercody @socially-anxious-fangirl @cloneygoodness @marya-komar @beskarprincessjenny @awkward-katiesaur @katiebits1 @kawaiitimecharm @shiny-mando @sapphichorrorpictureshow @fat-zygerrian @foodandbooksplease @the-siren-writes-it @ken-obiwan @dinner-djarin @howie-ner-cyare @99squad @chewychewyque @obiwan-djarin @vaderthepotater @blackrose4242 @the-sad-batch @quantumowl @ashotofspotchka @queen-simp @kaorikoizumi @mylifeinthetardisforever @sitherin-mxschief @escapedthesarlacc @sydnubabu @megalinditron @whatanoof @4rosydreams @ahsoka1 @colorfulloverbatturkey @venomous-ko @monako-jinn-stories @paige6768 @diagonallie5400 @galacticgraffiti @commxnderwolffe @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @jediknightdjarin @nikolekenobi @clonecyare @bobafettuccini @rebelpitstop @rowansparrow @shiniest-captain @techs-hairline @no-idea-what-to-write-here @zazzysseoul @ladykatakuri @badbatch-simp24 @royal-stardust

clones only tags:

@sergeant-hunter @kriffclone @saberdeity @echofoxfives @alucas528 @captainrexscyarika @kirinpl @lastphoenixfalling @bambiswriting

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

(Disclaimer: I tried making the ask shorter because I went on a ramble (it’s still pretty long sorry) and now the tone feels off, all of this is /gen and “trying to figure things out”)

Hi, different anon, but same “I wish no harm/discourse but am curious/confused” sentiment

I definitely agree that bi erasure is a pretty big thing in fandom (“at some point it stops being pro gay and starts being anti woman” is a quote I’ve heard that sums at least part of it up pretty well) and that m/f ships in Cats are often underrated, but it’s sort of bothered me that this specific point hasn’t been brought up at least from what I’ve seen

I feel like fandom is, among other things, a space queer people can go to for representation. Though queer stories have started to get more popular in media, it’s still predominantly cis and straight, so the fact that fandoms have a lot more gay ships doesn’t really surprise me. I know this still doesn’t explain why f/f ships are so much less popular than m/m ships (sometimes creators make unlikable female characters and sometimes fandom in misogynistic), but I kind of think that even if biphobia was completely eliminated in fandom spaces, gay ships would still be far more popular (even if it goes against canon), at least until the rest of the world catches up in terms of queer rep

I’m well aware that having bi people in media in m/f relationships is just as important and can be just as validating, but I think to a lot of people validation comes in the form of representation of same sex relationships

I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I know people like you and munku-collar are right about bi erasure in this fandom, but it’s been bothering me that this hasn’t been mentioned. Sorry if this ask has been an added stressor, I just feel like you’re a person who understands this topic very well and I’d love to hear your thoughts

hello, love!!

first off, thank you so much for being so kind and open with this ask, it really, really means a lot.

(i also just saw the ask you sent, and while yes, this may be a little discourse-y, i think this is incredibly important to put out there!)

before i get into this, i want to make sure that if anyone rb's this with added opinions/information, or wants to send me messages or asks about this, literally the only thing that i ask is that you're kind, and do not attack this anon, myself, or anyone else providing their perspective.

everything you said is 100% absolutely true.

i'm not going to sit here and act like only my takes about certain ships are the right ones, because that's absolutely not true in the slightest. it wasn't my intention at all to make anyone feel that way, and i truly do apologize if my last Platoria post made anyone feel that way.

like i said in my rb of my post:

Cats is the entire reason that I realized my sexuality and became comfortable with it. this was the first fandom that i joined where m/m and f/f ships were some of the most popular and celebrated, and this was huge for me.

this fandom space, like you said, is so important for queer people, and everyone should be able to curate their ships in ways that they can be able to see themselves.

i think this type of discourse is very important in fandoms with multiple lgbtq+ pairings, so if anything, i'm glad that you've brought it up, and i'd love to hear input from others within the fandom on this topic.

[dullweapons]

his nose wrinkles a touch as the scent of interlopers grows stronger with each passing. minute the two of them stand within this room . he takes a quick glance around but cannot see anyone else ⸻ the source is indeed the boy before him . how curious . ray looked down to his hand & stared at the small burn marks on his skin & the boy clad in green face twisted slight : the smell of burnt flesh was not appetizing to you ? it is to him but ... well , he shall not feast on himself . besides ... he likes his meat still bleeding . perhaps with a beating heart . the heart was the best part ...

regardless ray remained still . he allowed the other to process the words he had said to him : it was new information giving to him . perhaps he had no idea of ray beyond an appearance & a connection to ... well , sprout . ( he finds it adorable that his link still thinks of him in undeath but , nay ⸻ that child should rest . ) but why does sprout speak of him to connect him to this cycle ... he knows this demon is nothing but an outsider . an observer . he has no input to the games of the goddess ... the most he could do was give his two rupees about what can be done ... or what should be done . killing god was always a good idea to him .

❝ zelda is in a ... meeting , shall we say . ❞ that sounds much more ominous then he means it . ❝ lord ganondorf is discussing ... what he thinks is a peace treaty . but more than likely he is trying to subject her to his will . it won't work . never has . ❞ ray looks to the side wondering if ganondorf even counts as a lord anymore . there was nothing left for him to be lord of . the gerudo desert was more barren that it ever was ... his brows furrow a touch & he hides his own pain from link but making sure his hair covers his face before neutralizing his expression to return his gaze back to him .

his eyes follow link as he moves to the window . zelda liked to sit there a lot . she looked out over the vast landscape that was her kingdom . she would having tea there . sometimes reading , sometimes simply looking ... but when the twilight came he couldn't pull her away from that spot . ray would try to distract her but it was in vein . ❛ you did what you had to . ❜ he would say to her . she never responded .

the light spirits . hm . he never liked them . not for anything they did but because of how horrible their light was to him . it reeked , it burned . it hurt . at the simple thought of them again his expression sours before he sighs ⸺ resetting his expression to neutral . but as he opened his mouth to respond his eye widens as links body twists & forms in the shadows into that of a beast . a wolf with bright blue eyes ⸻ quickly he returns to his humanoid form & ray is left ... well , puzzled . how odd . but not unfamiliar . this is not the first time that the hero will shift forms . goron , sora , deku ... an older version ... a god ... but an animal ? well , that was a new . where the gods being cute ? did they want their work dog to truly be an animal .

❝ ... i see . my name is ray cadell . ❞

he takes steps closer to link making sure to keep his own hands visible & away from his own blade that hung at his hip . he did not wish the kid any harm & did his best to show that with his relaxed body language . his eye scans him up & down , analysing him . he seems ... like the hero of time . strong & brave with that horrible looming shadow of the world on your shoulders . the goddesses like them like that , don't they . it makes his eye twitch a bit before he looks out the window .

❝ you have the master sword but i do not think it wise just yet to attack lord ganondorf . ❞ it's a habit to call him lord or perhaps its his mark that forces him to regard the king of thieves with respect . ray doesn't want to know the answer . both would give him nothing but rage at his own mind or his lack of free will . two warriors who lack pure free will . how funny ⸻ or horribly depressing . ❝ the gods want you to do their dirty work yet again . i can assist wherever i can ... but at the end , your hands must be bloodied . ❞ & you will do it . you do not have a choice . you will never have a choice ... ray can only hope that this pressure does not break another child . he is at least a little thankful his one is older than the last ...

❝ ... may i ask . the spirit who talked to you . where was he ? he is ... ❞ he pauses for a moment . ❝ he was my son . ❞

❛    where’s zelda? ❜ the duo of twi imp and bubbling hero to hyrule telepathically spoke as one—four pairs of eyes scanned the room, one pair a foreign shade of carmine and another the cobalt hues of beasts. yet, link had always been one who listened three times as much as he spoke. the habit proved to be invaluable in his life prior to the destiny from gods of old coming in and ripping out any sense of normalcy that could still remain in such a life or death world saving trial such as this. 

the girl hailing from the twilight realm starts festering power ( link can feel twist of his shadow with rage not his own ): the words she speaks are harsh. harsher and more silver tongued than any he’d heard spill from her mouth to date, materializing as a dark visage only link could see: only existing in this portion of world half craved in light within the darkness of shadow. the golden iris of the strange man locked with link’s and it felt the would be hero speechless ( not that it was hard to get link not to speak ).

the rate at which new information was being poured into link was astronomical, for starters, the person before him had to be whom shade spoke of ( the man even confirmed it ): but he also had to be of malicious intent for when he touched the master sword, it burned him, it hurt him. sheer shock from the scent of decaying flesh fills the bedchambers of princess zelda—causing link regret. such smells could be overwhelming ( even without the senses of a divine blue eyed beast ): and would not leave the air without struggle. yet he spoke of allyship ( of the side of victory / of the side of light ): and other than the master sword reacting to his physical touch, it did not glow with the holy light of the goddesses in his presence—perplexing. but link had seen far more curious things on this quest.

the man looked all world worn and for a moment link wondered if when all was said and done would he be the same? this stranger had the same look of sorrow in his gaze as the heir to the strong of hyrule did upon their first meeting… but this individual carried even more pain, guilt, and need link say: shame? the expression was so much akin to the hero shade. god’s chosen hero almost felt sick but was a feeling reserved for his mind and not face—just what type of fate had the goddesses of creation bestowed cursed him with?

at his words of being zelda’s protector—link’s hold on the sword tightened but his form relaxed. moving to now stand directly beside the window he’d once jumped out of with midna when still in the form of a four legged savior. his mind was spinning but he could smell that the man was not a monster ( a mere foot soldier meant to stop his mission): but he did not smell of hyrule, at least not entirely—but link could say the same of himself, originally not hailing from the kingdom he was now burdened to bring salvation.

❛    complicated. ❜ is all link can say, trying to process everything he was just told. after all, he was the one working to undo the spread of twilight across the kingdom. but his words did not answer just where the princess was ( was she not bound to this castle? to this very room? ): plus in all the times link had visited or midna on her own before they’d met one another this person hadn’t been spoken of at all—why? if the gods where sending him visuals in his slumber, was this not something link was to know of? was it not, in a way, one of his divinity given rights?

❛    light spirit lanayru tol’ me wha’ ‘appened. ❜ but it was more like: the light spirit had poured their vast see of memories directly into link’s mind and caused it to swim with the overflow of the lore from ancient history, to the point his entire body had become as if weighed down by chains.

at the words of wet dog, midna laughed ( one of mischievous intentions ): smirking big before touching the shadow crystal to link’s forehead, his form changing into a beast right before the strangers eyes and then back again. she seemed to drink in the expression of the golden eyed man as it only faltered for not even a moment but it was enough entertainment for the twi, much to link’s utter dismay. ❛    dares da ansa fo’ da smell. ❜ but it was one that was growing on link. in the same way the woods of faron or ordon had. in the ways that midna and hyrule fields had.

❛    ‘m link. ❜ his blade had been sheathed once the imp had transformed him into the guise of a beast but how he wished he could cling to it, the master sword having become a crutch so to speak when link did not wish to speak nor have the words. just where was zelda? link was not sure what this man had to do with hyrule: it was too many details and not enough facts for his taste.

[iwillgetridofyourangerforyou]

Ik you like Sekingar and luckily I do too so pls do him for the 4 headcanon game!

*Beams* SEKINGAR!! : D

Thank you so much for this ask anon! you have excellent taste ;)

It would be an honor and delight to answer your request. Please hold on, I'll try to be credible (at least not completely unhinged) but I may start gushing. These are headcanons after all so I'll give myself some free reign.

I think this one is going to end up being a bit long so for anyone who is curious I've answered this question for the following characters already:

Genos Drive Knight Mumen Rider King

Send a character’s name to receive four different headcanons And you chose:

~Sekingar~

Headcanon A:  realistic (oops a meta)

Sekingar is Punk AF

What do I mean by Punk? I mean a person, often (not always) an activist, involved in a counter cultural movement which is critical of established hierarchy and strongly favors individuality and radical self-expression.

Hear me out.

The dude is an idealist but he knows that good things take work.

Sekingar actively listens to Child Emperor, a character who has complained about not being taken seriously or listened to by HA or fellow heroes but Sekingar hears him out, asks questions, and modifies the plan around CE's new information. Which indicates to me that he's not restricted himself to biases around 'pecking order' and that he's not limited himself by lazy ageist biases.

If you get a chance you should go back and re-read this whole interacting. Sekingar pushes back against some of Child Emperor's assumptions for example "If you have any suspicions, you ought to ask the involved party directly." Encouraging more appropriate interpersonal behaviors. But in the end he obviously respects CE's expertise and values his input. He differs to the CE's judgement.

Everyone has biases and it takes effort or experience to unburden oneself of, if you live in a society or work for an organization that trends towards devaluing the efforts of the lower-ranking or younger members (like the HA seems to be at times) it is an act of resistance to behave counter to that culture. Sekingar has put in the work to know what he believe and stand for, that takes practice, and the results show.

Before that, and even more impressively, we see Sekingar standing his ground with both the Hero Association Administration and with Waganma's father who offers 'any amount of money' for Waganma's safe return. Sekingar seems almost disgusted by the notion that any amount of money would motivate him to do his hero work any better or any differently.

I'd be surprised if I was reading that expression wrong, talk about looking down your nose at someone, literally. Thankfully since it's part of Sekingar's job to keep a good rapport withe the public and with donors it's the S-Class heroes who come in and assure Mr. Narinki that money is not the motivation.

One of the next times we see him he's helping to organize a group of heroes for the rescue operation during the Monster Association raid. And you know what he reminds me of during this? A highly effective community organizer. His famous speech,the one that made Metal Bat (one of the most punk heroes) respect him, and the one King referenced in the last chapter:

The moment Sekingar earns Metal Bat's respect.

Power Gaps don't matter. We do what we can with the hand we're given. What else is there for us to do? ... Not feeling confident? A stone is a stone. A diamond is a diamond. But both can be treasures, doing the right thing in the right place. Making sure everything is in the right place. That's my job.

This feels a lot like the type of speech you deliver as a activist and community organizer. You face people who aren't doing anything to support a cause even if they care about it, people with limited time, resources, education, and investment, and as a community organizer it's your duty to fit the form of activism to the activists capacity. Young single mothers, people living with various disabilities, people working several jobs, people in living in poverty, people with an excess of free-time and/or money, all of the above. Everyone can play a role in community activism, especially when we all work together. Sekingar both has experience with this type of community organization and has had to learn these lessons through tough experiences.

He wanted wants to be a Hero.

The more I learn about the OPM world the more convinced that you have to be a tiny bit on the crazy end to want to be a hero. And not only did Sekingar take the Hero exam but when he failed he didn't give up, he simply changed his strategy. He now hopes that his accomplishments working for the Hero Association will earn him a place in history as a hero.

There are few things quite as Punk as being a hero. Heroes are people who resist doing what's safe and easy to fight for a better world. From the crazy outfits and hairstyles, the body modifications, the training, and the willingness to get a bit rough and tumble for a good cause. Heroes are Punk as hell. Sekingar may dress the part of a white collar HA executive but his history with heroism is as apparent as his cybernetic eye.

Sekingar carrying multiple heroes to safety alone.

He didn't flinch at the chance to fight a monster, he's genuine, more concerned with the mission and the people than the cost, he's strong body and mind, he almost highhandedly carried several downed heroes to safety. He's uncomfortably comfortable with needles and wounds. When he lost his hand he dressed his own wound, administered his own shot (and f-king TOSSED the syringe like a mad-man) and just kept going. Sometimes being counter-culture can get a bit rough and tumble.

Sekingar working with Genos to make sure everyone gets to safety. Several people have almost fallen off of the pile already and Sekingar has pulled them all together with only one functional hand.

I still haven't forgiven him for his lack of sharps etiquette

Sekingar could fall into a pretty comfortable life-style as a HA executive but he doesn't, he keeps fighting to be recognized as a hero. More than that, he's fighting to actually make a difference whether or not he earns the recognition he deserves.

To sum up:

Sekingar is a hero.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Sekingar has a pet cat, so cleaning the stray hairs off his suit takes 20 minutes or more every day, but he takes his job very seriouslyTM so he's gotten it down to a science.

Sekingar is out of date on popculture references because he's been too busy working to watch tv shows, occationally the heroes he works closely with will make references and he'll go look them up after to be able to connect and communicate with the team.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

If Sekingar survives the Monster Association Arc he's likely to be fired by the Hero Association or worse.

(WC refrences) If he survives Sekingar could end up getting caught up in the Neo Hero nastiness that's been happening in the Webcomic. (WC refrences end)

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

Sekingar will survive the MA arc, I don't care what happens, he will. And he'll get a cybornetic hand to replace the one he lost.

Oh! I'd love it if *if* he was fired from the HA he started his own organisation. If I trusted organizing heros to anyone (it's like herding cats after all) I might just trust Sekingar.

This is really just a silly thing for just me, but I headcanon that Sekingar is bi or gay. It's not something that matters and I think I'd be annoyed if the manga made that a thing. He also gives me so much straight dude energy but eh, who cares, you can't 100% tell someone's orientation just by how they look.

[stonefreeak]

My goodness people, I’m so sorry for the delay! I’ve been working on the structuring of my files to get a better overview of what remains of the project, to hopefully be able to speed writing up (even as work really means that my free-time is much more limited than it was once upon a time, lmao. Sometimes I miss December of 2016 when this whole thing started, 33k in a month of updates, amirite?)

it’s taken me so long I’m wondering if anyone even remember this plot point at this point, lmao

Also: belated happy midsummers to all my fellow Swedes!

Bail taps his finger against this desk and stairs unseeingly at the datapad in front of him.

He hadn't been sure if the information Aleena Yashi gave him, though she's worked as an assistant to multiple senators over the years, was true. But everything checks out. He briefly wondered why she would come to him about it, rather than Senator Lobos who she's currently working for... But perhaps it's because he's known to have a favourable view of the Jedi that she's done so. Perhaps it's because all of this information mostly pertains to the Jedi and the laws surrounding them, and she wanted a prominent Senator who she could trust not to hide the information away because they don't care for the Jedi.

Bail, a Core World Senator well known for his good relationship with the Jedi and friendship with the current Supreme Chancellor, must have seemed like the best option for her. He wonders who else would have been on her list, before she settled on him, but he chose not to ask when she visited him. Perhaps it's better if he doesn't know; it hardly matters now anyway.

He looks down at the datapad again and considers his options.

He should probably discuss her findings with her, and see what exactly her goal is. If he's to do something about this, then he wants her involved even as he gathers support from other senators.

He has no doubt that Padmé will agree to add her support to Bail to help sort this mess out, but considering that they've both been involved with the investigation they're conducting into Jedi missions being altered... Well, Bail wants more Senators involved this time. Just to ensure that it cannot be taken as some form of conspiracy in favour of the Jedi. As ridiculous as that notion seems, Bail is not blind to the way many Senators look at the Jedi, nor to the fact that many of them don't seem to believe that they're really capable of what they say they are.

Few people besides the Jedi truly believe in the Force, after all.

Few people could believe in something they cannot know for themselves when others supposedly have a direct connection to it. Bail is one of the few who does believe them, he's seen what the Jedi can do first-hand. There's nothing else that can account for that kind of power besides this Force they talk of. They and other groups out there, it’s not only the Jedi, after all.

Besides, he knows many of them personally, and while Bail may not understand or follow all of their beliefs or traditions, he also knows that they're not a bunch of charlatans faking it for power of money—though he knows some of his fellow senators believe that to be the case. Even senators on Coruscant, who've seen Jedi in real life, seem to believe them little more than myth.

Bail has been kept up to date on the investigation into the Jedi missions, though he’s not taking an active role in it right now, and he’s certain that he has been kept in the loop to give legitimacy to the investigation. Give it a proper paper trail, even if it’s done with the Senate’s highest level of security. A strictly need-to-know basis, and until it’s finished, no one else needs to know.

Of course, Bail asked Obi-Wan in private if he would be allowed to tell Breha. As his Queen and the leader of Bail’s planet, he found it important to clue her in on it. Besides, it’s another step of legitimacy. After all, if Breha takes an active stance on it, then so does Alderaan.

If anyone wants to accuse the investigation at a later date for being a sham… Well, they will need to accuse Alderaan of engaging in it in the first place. Bail isn’t stupid enough to think that it’s not one of the primary reasons Obi-Wan agreed with Bail’s request.

They’re friends, and Obi-Wan likes Breha, but this is not about being friends. This is about political allyship and keeping sensitive information on as tight a lock-down as they can until the time  to reveal it comes.

Besides, as worried as Bail has become with Miss Yashi’s information, it’s even worse when considered together with the altered Jedi missions and not in the least… Well, the war time propaganda. There's no point in shying away from what it is, and the ramifications it has.

Considering how most of the war time propaganda—Bail can acknowledge it for what it is, there truly is no point in trying to deny the facts—focuses almost exclusively on the clones and their efforts in the war, it's hardly strange that the general population neither know nor understand them.

Further considering the information that Bail has now confirmed to be real and accurate... He understands that the omission of the Jedi is entirely deliberate. If you want to discredit and undermine the Jedi, why would you ever speak of their accomplishments and sacrifices? You wouldn't, as that would bring public support to them.

Bail sighs and rolls his shoulders.

He needs to build a following, he cannot properly push this alone. But he also understands why Miss Yashi brought it to him alone, first. A Core World Senator is far harder to make "disappear" than a Twi'lek Senatorial aide, no matter how awful that is to say. Bail can't go missing, and any attempt on his life would have a bit more trouble hitting its mark.

That's not to say that it would be impossible for someone to assassinate him, which is of course why he'll make sure that Breha is entirely up to speed on everything.

All of it together... There is some form of conspiracy to discredit or perhaps even get rid of the Jedi; Bail is sure of it. But he cannot see to what end. What are they trying to achieve?

For what reason would anyone work to discredit the Jedi? What is the end goal to strive for? There’s no way for the politicians to dissolve the Jedi Order, they are not in that way under Senate control. They could, of course, remove all of their backing, forcing the Jedi to become free agents, certainly…

But for what purpose? It would leave the Republic without the Jedi as peacekeepers, for the Jedi would hardly remain to do diplomacy work for the Senate without its backing. After all, what would the point be? Without the Senate’s backing, the Jedi would have far less ability to do anything.

How could they negotiate treaties if the Senate won’t honour them?

They could, perhaps, be a neutral third party within discussions. But there’s no reason for anyone to listen to their input in such a case. It’s hard enough to get disagreeing parties to listen to external input when you come with powerful backing that could make you listen even if you refuse.

How could they function with no funding? They would need to work on commission, at which point only those who can afford their help can get it. That would be the opposite of an improvement.

To not even begin to talk about how few of them there are, how few of them there were even before the war. Their population is not even a hundredth of a percent of Alderaan’s population, and Alderaan is only a single planet within the tens of thousands of star systems that make up the Republic—nevermind the entire galaxy. There’s just not enough of them, and hasn’t that always been a problem even while they’re working under the Republic? Too few, spread too thin.

No, if the Jedi became free agents, their ability to affect change would be greatly diminished. Bail is quite certain they’d work on much smaller scales, still trying to do what they can for the galaxy, bit by bit. Working with smaller communities on planets and moons… If they even had the ability to find out about disputes that may need their help in the first place.

Losing the Jedi as peacekeepers isn’t a win for the Republic either, as the budget for the Jedi was already miniscule even before it started being diminished—as Miss Yashi’s discovery shows. It cannot be an attempt at cost saving, or an idea of improvement for the Republic. Needing to train their own diplomats and ensure that they have skilled enough guards… That would be more expensive and it would not be able to guarantee that these diplomats are neutral in conflicts.

The Jedi have no specific allegiances the way diplomats and even Senators have. Even the least corrupt Senator will still place their own planet and star system first. It is part of their role, after all.

So no, it cannot be something like that. Not unless the people slowly enacting this are horribly misguided and foolish. Not to mention, Bail knows most Senators would simply call for making away with the Jedi entirely, rather than this slow plan to undercut them.

No… There must be something else going on here, some other primary goal whoever is pulling these strings is looking out to do.

He’ll need to figure it out, no doubt, Bail concludes.

But beyond that, he also needs to build a base to help him bring this information he’s been given to the Senate’s attention. He is quite sure already who he should be looking towards first: Senator Ach’ki Mandai of Haa’ndu.

Who better to help him bring this to Senate attention than the Senator who ensured a Jedi now sits as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic?

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

[automaticneon]

Clouds

Chapter 1: Automatic Love (NSFT)

Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

Summary: “When desires go unfulfilled, they turn into needs”

Clouds is the most technologically advanced dollhouse in Madripoor. It’s a void for people to escape into, or at least the lucky few that can afford to visit. 

And Zemo is very lucky.

The reader meets a strange new client, a man of mystery and poetic language and when she uncovers a secret most valuable to Helmut Zemo, their relationship goes from professional to something much more profound.

A/N: It’s essentially a Cyberpunk AU, but you don’t need to know a thing about the game! I’ve just borrowed the names of locations and the concept of Clouds. The reader is essentially a high clas s*x worker, if that isn’t your cup of tea, this probably isn’t the fic for you!

If this was high-end, there was no way to tell.

At least that’s what Zemo thinks as his car pulls up outside the mega-building. It’s an unsightly structure but not uncommon for this area of Madripoor, about fifty-storey’s tall and covered in vibrant LED screens.

For a minute he considers instructing his driver to take him back to his apartment in high-town so he can pretend this never happened. He had been averse to this idea already, but a friend from his military days had been convinced he should try coming here. “It’s cutting-edge” is what he had been told, but what exactly cutting-edge meant was a mystery to Zemo.

“Would you like me to wait for you, Sir?” the driver asks, snapping Zemo out of his thoughts.

The baron swipes his hand over his face, taking one last look at the building outside the window before responding.

“No, I’ll call when I’m done.”

He reckons his driver knows what he’s doing here. Mega-building H8 was known for only one thing, its position on the layline between high and low town meant it was frequented by all wealthy inhabitants of Madripoor. Mobsters and politicians alike congregated at this monster of architecture, hopeful of its contents and desperate to go unrecognised.

And now they can add a Baron to that list of unfortunates, Zemo thinks with resignation.

He leaves the car before the embarrassment can fester in his chest.

 The building is worse up close than at a distance.

Climbing the flight of concrete stairs Zemo is transported from the sidewalk and into the belly of the beast. The entrance to the megabuilding is a low-ceilinged sprawl of street-vendors and food stalls. It’s loud and busy, but Zemo has no problem blending into the crowd. He weaves through the stream of people, illuminated by neon signs that grow increasingly vulgar in their images the deeper into the building he moves.

Eventually, towards the back of the building, he finds the metal gates of an industrial-style elevator. He slides the grate open and steps inside to find the space is lit by multiple illuminated advertisement screens rotating through various commercials, each more obscene than the last. For a moment Zemo takes the moral high ground, musing with distaste about the sort of men these adverts are geared towards. He takes the moral high ground until he remembers what he has come here to do. Defeatedly he admits to himself he has no right to feel lofty.

The illuminated keypad flashes at him, and he reaches out to input his destination.

 Floor 12 – CLOUDS

 The elevator is slow as it climbs past the levels of cheap apartments and eventually comes to stop at level 12. As Zemo goes to open the grate again, he wonders if he’ll be greeted by some of that high-class sophistication he was promised.

He is not.

This floor is much like the entrance hall, only this time it’s a balcony that wraps around the interior of the mega-building and faces down into an open-air atrium. Zemo notices that the elevator he steps out of does not go any higher than this level, the floors above must be the luxury apartments and must have their own entrance.  He begins to follow the neon signs again.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this?” A man near him says to his friend. Zemo bristles at the strong American accent, but carefully allows himself to eavesdrop.

“I don’t know, man,” The friend responds “It just feels wrong, you know? Like I’ll be cheating on my girl with one of these dolls”

“But that’s just it! These girls are dolls, man. They’re not real. It’s like sleeping with a blow-up-doll. No difference”

“You know that’s not true; the difference is they’re real. They’re made of flesh.”

“That’s what makes them great though. They’re dolls made of flesh.”

Zemo moves on before he can hear anymore.

He follows the signs until he reaches a wide hallway into the building, and there at the end is the rather simple looking entrance to Clouds dollhouse. The low ceiling of the hallway allows for little decoration, but he supposes a place with such an infamous reputation needs little in terms of advertisement. Soft pink neon signs flash the name of the establishment, and beside the double glass doors a glitchy hologram of a woman dances away. As he approaches, a pre-recorded voice rings out from a speaker at the base of the hologram.

“Looks like you could use a little automatic love.”

He refuses to acknowledge the projection.

Inside clouds is arguably worse than outside. The hallway is lined with tattered posters and it smells of something cheap and artificial. When Zemo enters the small, empty reception the lady behind the desk looks up with a smile.

“Welcome to clouds, where we always know what you’re looking for.”

  -

 None of you can hear a thing from the changing room.

“Do you think he’ll fire her?”

“I’m not sure. Depends how angry the client was,”

“Shut up I’m trying to hear,”

The room falls silent as Divine presses her ear to the door.

Moments ago the dressing room had been full of the usual chatter as you and the other dolls prepared for the evening shift. There was nothing to indicate the night would be anything but normal, that was until a few minutes ago when Woodman, the caretaker of dolls, had knocked furiously at the door and demanded that Azure come to his office down the hall for an immediate meeting.

“Is it just Woodman?” you ask. Azure could be abrasive at times, but she was certainly one of you favourite colleagues and you desperately wanted her to avoid being fired by management.

“I think so. I can’t hear anyone else.” Divine says, leaning back from the door.

“She’ll be fine, I’m sure,” one of the other dolls assures the room “She’s been here the longest. If they haven’t fired her yet, I doubt they ever will.”

“True. We can’t let this ruin a good Friday night. Five minutes until we need to be out in the booths, girls” Divine announces, and promptly returns to her table to finish her makeup.

Moments before the timer goes off the dressing room door flies open, and Azure stalks back to her table in silence. She’s not upset, but you can see the frustration hidden behind a poor attempt at offhand indifference. You want to ask if she’s alright, but the aggressive way she’s searching through her desk drawer makes you think it’s better to leave her be. The other girls do the same, cautiously looking over at her but making no attempt at conversation.

When the timer rings out you take one final sip of water and head to the door, grabbing the key-card for booth three as you leave.

 - 

“Welcome to clouds, where we always know what you’re looking for.”

The pink light of the glowing reception desk illuminates her face from below. That, combined with her uncomfortably bright smile makes the receptionist look like some sort of robot from a sci-fi film. Zemo lets out an amused huff at the very ambitious welcome promise.

“With all due respect, how could you know exactly what it is I want.”

“Clouds always knows. Your deepest desire – we find it. You’ll have your needs fulfilled – and maybe much more. ‘Less’ is not a word we use around here.” The receptionist replies.

“And how is that supposed to work then,” Zemo questions with a tilt of his head.

“Our algorithm searches your social media. With your permission it will create a personal profile based on any information if can gather, including personal preferences for you partners appearance. The algorithm will then select a doll for you, and create an experience based off that information.,” She slides a form across the desk “of course we ensure this is entirely confidential, this form confirms our promise.”

“I’ll admit I’m impressed. However I do not have a social media presence I’m afraid.” Zemo responds.

He couldn’t lie, the process seemed interesting. It was obviously a successfully programmed algorithm if the establishment had such a strong reputation. He found himself for the first time tonight not entirely doubting his choice to come here. He was interested to see what they would do for his situation.

“In that case I’ll have to ask you a few general questions to select a doll for you. If you are unsatisfied with their performance, you’ll be entitled to a refund at the end of the session.”

The receptionist begins to read a series of questions from her computer screen, gender preferences, what sort of experience he’s looking for. She concludes with organising payment, and the price is eyewatering even with the slight discount she applies since they cannot use the algorithm. When all is paid and signed for, the receptionist asks for a safe word. Admittedly it throws Zemo for a minute.

“It’s company policy” she says.

“Pontiac” he says bluntly, after a moment of thought.

“Fantastic.” The receptionist enters his response to the computer “Welcome to clouds. Serenity will be waiting for you in booth three.”

Zemo passes through another set of double doors and finds himself in a labyrinth of pink lights. The walls are lined with black, opaque glass and every so often a blue neon number protrudes from the wall indicates the booth behind it.

It doesn’t take long for him to find booth three, but he pauses before pressing the button to open the door. He takes a breath, collects his thoughts and lets his head and shoulders drop. He doesn’t want to look at his reflection in the tinted glass. Five years ago the thought of coming to a place like this would never have touched his mind, even in his questionable youth he had always been opposed these places. The risk that they were run unethically was far too great for his conscience. But he was not the man he was five years ago. Since Sokovia he wondered if he had a conscience at all anymore.

He presses the button, and the glass panel slides open.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the room. It’s dimly lit, faint blue and purple lights shine against the walls that are lined with the same dark, opaque glass as outside. There’s a chic, white sofa against the left wall, and against the right is a simple bed.

Sat atop it, kneeling with her thighs spread and covered by a short black night dress is the prettiest girl he’s seen in years.

 - 

He’s handsome, is the first thing you think when the glass door slides open.

It’s rare that you ever receive a client you’re inclined to call attractive, even the most conventionally attractive men that come here bring with them such a foul soul that it taints their appearance. Not this man, though.

He’s smartly dressed in dark trousers and a well-fitting grey jumper. His hair is styled nicely, it’s either brown or very dark blond (you can’t tell in the coloured lighting). He carries himself well, but after a year of working here you’ve grown accustomed to seeing through the façade’s of your clients. He’s apprehensive. Unsure if he belongs here. Hesitant.

“You must be Helmut. It’s nice to meet you,”

You try to make your voice sound soft and gentle, cocking your head to one side to beckon him in. You get the sense he wants something authentic, or at least that’s what his profile had said when it was sent through from reception moments ago. No porn-star moans or obscene pick-up lines tonight.

He collects himself, and the harsh line his lips have been pressed into relaxes as he enters the room. The glass panel slides shut, trapping the two of you in the bubble of the booth. It’s tranquil. You think he must need that.

“And you must be ‘Serenity’” He responds, crossing the room to sit on the sofa. His eyes don’t leave you as your ‘name’ rolls of his tongue with amusement. You can hear the next question in your head before he even opens his mouth again.

“So what’s your real name?”

They always ask you that. They ask every doll that. The clients are desperate to form a connection with you. To brag to their friends that they have a special relationship with a doll at clouds. You’ve never told anyone your real name before, it’s against company policy. Clouds attracts the rich of Madripoor, and rich in Madripoor usually means dangerous. It’s for your own protection more than anything else, you really don’t need work following you home.

You picked a name the day you were hired and that’s the name every client has known you by. This man will be no different. You begin your usual response:

“A name is a name, Helmut. A title. An advertisement of who you are. I want my name to tell you exactly who I am, so that you can know everything about me. I want to bring you peace.”

He adjusts his hips and rests his arms across the back of the sofa. He regards you quietly, and you’re positive he can tell that your response was a deflection. His eyes squint slightly, and a flash of humour appears in his dark pupils.

“Well I hardly think that’s fair. You get to call me by my name, but I don’t get to know yours?” He lets out a huff of laughter “Actually, I don’t think I’ll let you use my name. We should be equals, should we not?”

You admit you’re enjoying this. The smooth accent and playful tone of his voice keeps you interested. You swing your feet around so that you’re sat facing him on the bed, reclining back on your palms to match his casual stance.

“What should I call you then?”

“You said a name is just a title. So then my title can become my name. You can call be Baron, Serenity” He says your name like it’s some sort of inside joke, taunting you to give up and tell him who you really are. You won’t be so easily swayed.

“So what’s a Baron doing in Madripoor then?” You say with genuine curiosity. If it weren’t for the NDA’s you’re forced to sign you would be buzzing to tell the other girls who you’re spending the night with. You can’t imagine that aristocracy visits this place frequently. “And do you drink?”

“I do, thank you” he says, and you hop down from the bed and walk to the low table in front of the sofa that carries a few glasses and a bottle of expensive-looking alcohol. You know he’s looking at the satin hem of the night dress as it tickles to top of your thighs, and when you bend down to pour him a glass, you make sure he gets a tasteful peak at your cleavage.

“I’m here to work, actually.”

Did aristocrats work? You thought they were just for show.

“I’m… translating some documents. It’s taking me a very long time,” He continues, watching intently as you finish preparing his drink.

“A Baron and a translator? Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate” You loop around the table, perching beside him on the sofa and handing him his drink.

“It’s more of a personal project I suppose, but a very important one” he says, accepting the drink with his free hand. The one that rests behind you on the back of the sofa comes up to rest between your shoulder blades. It’s a very gentle touch, just the tips of his fingers making contact with yours skin and moving in a tiny little circle. He’s testing the waters with you, seeing how receptive you are. It’s almost gentlemanly.

“It must mean a great deal to you. We could talk about it, if you like? We can talk about anything you want to,” You reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, enjoying how he melts into the action.

“Anything but your name?” He shoots you teasing look from the corner of his eye, and you give a little strand of his hair a small playful tug in response.

“Anything but that, Baron”

“Tell me something else about you. Like why you came to Madripoor, I can tell you weren’t born here.”

Jesus you can’t tell if this man is a pest or just being polite. It’s unusual for him to be asking these questions of you, most men would usually have you on your knees by now. You hum and give him one last stroke down the back of his neck, before climbing off the sofa and walking back towards the bed.

“Very perceptive. I’m not from Madripoor, no,” you crawl onto the bed, taking your time so that the baron can take a good look at where the night dress rides up over the curve of your ass “but we’ve only just met, and only my friends get to know my life story.”

You settle yourself comfortably at the top of the bed, lying down and propped up on your elbows so you can maintain the measured look he’s giving you.

“Perhaps I should come over there and get to know you better” he says calmly, with the barest hint of a suggestive undertone.

Thank god he’s dropped the topic of your true identity. You can handle sex; you don’t need an interrogation tonight. Slipping into character you drop your voice to a low whisper and cock your eyebrow.

“Perhaps you should”

The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile as he accepts your little challenge. In one fluid motion he downs the rest of his drink, places the empty glass back on the table, and rises to walk towards the bed. No, he stalks towards the bed with a natural swagger that admittedly makes your chest squeeze tight.

Within a second he’s onto you, slotting himself between your parted thighs and pressing his lips to yours. Your baron kisses well, is the only thing you’re capable of thinking as he uses his body to push you down into the cushions. One of his hands slides up your body, skimming across your neck before coming to rest below your jaw. He doesn’t squeeze, just gently holds you in place so that he can kiss you how he pleases.

After a moment he tilts your head up slightly, pausing the kiss so he can look down at you. You reckon you look a picture of arousal, pupils blown and cheeks flushes as you catch your breath. Your baron seems to agree; he’s looking at you like the cat that caught the canary, and you shiver when his grip gets just a fraction tighter on your jaw.

“So pretty,” he praises quietly as he dips down to skim his lips over your pulse.

The tender pressure makes you whine and arch up beneath him and he acknowledges you with a hum and a hand on your breast. As he continues his assault on your neck, the free hand on your chest squeezes the flesh softly, finding your nipple beneath the silky fabric and circling it with his thumb.

When it pebbles to his satisfaction he pulls away and you keen at the loss of contact. He tuts, pulling down the straps of your nightgown and peeling it down below your chest, shuffling down slightly so that his face is level with your now exposed torso.

He breathes out against your nipple before latching onto it, with one hand he squeezes your neglected breast and the other slides from its place on your jaw to the base of your neck. Again he doesn’t squeeze, just exerts a level of control that lets you know where he wants you. If you wanted to you could break free, but why would you want that? The way his thumb begins to circle your pulse point has you practically melting into the bed, the thought of telling him to stop can barely manifest in your mind.

You reach down to dig your fingers into the baron’s back, instead only making contact with his expensive-feeling jumper. You huff in disappointment and pull him from where he’s entertaining himself with your tits, meeting his hazy eyes that are riddled with confusion.

“I thought we were trying to get familiar with one another?” you ask, and his eyebrows pinch in confusion “How are we supposed to do that when you’ve got so much between us?”

The baron’s face melts in amusement, and he reluctantly pulls himself away from you to pull the jumper off and start undressing fully. You take a moment to catch your breath, watching him peel away his clothes to reveal his impressive body. He’s slender but impeccably well-toned, his torso is covered by a light dusting of hair that leads your eyes down to the impressive bulge in his underwear.

Tonight should be very entertaining.

Your sit up, reaching out to run your hand down his chest but before you can begin to pull at the waistband of his underwear, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

“I don’t know where you think you were going, but I was quite enjoying myself” he says roguishly. He gathers both of your wrists into one hand and pins you pack against the bed, with both hands restrained you have no choice but to let him bury hid face into your neck again.

This time he uses his free hand to skim along the inside of your thigh, getting high enough that you think he’ll reach the apex between your legs but instead he trails his fingers back down towards your knee again.

You whine in frustration as he continues his cycle of teasing up and down your leg, he ignores you until you tug against his grip on your wrists. He makes a low noise and quickly tightens his hold on you. The sudden movement sends a chill down your spine, and for the first time in a long while, you feel genuinely inclined to beg a man.

“Please-” you breathe out shakily “I want-”

Your voice cuts off suddenly as his hand moves boldly to cup your pussy. You can hear how embarrassingly wet you are as his fingers move through your folds, and he hums happily when he finds your clit with his thumb. Slowly he circles it, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you wriggling in his grip.

“This? Is this what you want?” he asks, and his voice has dropped at least another octave.

You shake your head furiously. Right now this is just not enough, you can feel his dick rubbing against your leg and you’re beyond desperate to have him fuck you open with it.

“No?” he says with feigned innocence “What is it that you want then?”

“More” is all you can get out “I want you in me. I’m wet enough, see?”

Your baron seems unconvinced. He circles a finger around your entrance before pushing in, rocking it gently inside you as he tries to decide if he thinks you’re really ready. He continues for a moment more before adding a second finger, now with two fingers stuffed in you and his thumb still working on your clit you’re almost ready to cum. It’s making you desperate, and it doesn’t help at all when he buries his face in your tits again.

Finally he lets your wrists go and immediately your hands grab at whatever part of him they can, eventually you settle with gripping his shoulder and hair as you try desperately to urge him to fuck you. He gets you right to the edge, literal moments away from finishing on his fingers when he pulls them away from you with an obscenely wet noise.

You let out a frustrated, desperate whine as he separates from you. He looks down at you with satisfaction as he takes in your flustered state.

“Stay still, you’ll get what you want” he says, and he reaches for his pants to retrieve a condom. It takes him a minute to pull himself free of his underwear and put the condom on. In your desperate state it feels like an eternity.

He positions himself between your legs, lifting the hem of the nightdress so he can get a good view of your pussy whilst he lines himself up. He pauses before he presses forward, looking up at you for any last-minute hesitation.

You nod your consent instantly, not trusting yourself to get any words out.

When he pushes in you think you might cum from that alone. He’s a perfect size, long enough that you feel as though you could feel him in your belly. When he finally bottoms out you can’t help but squeeze him tight, and he slumps over you, his face tucked into the side of your neck and swears in a language you don’t recognise. He nudges his hips forward as if to get deeper than he already is. The both of you gasp out at the sensation and he repeats it a few times, just the tiniest movements of his hips that causes him to rub against something deep inside you.

He pushes himself up on his forearms so that he can get a good look at you. In turn, you get to see the state of him as well – his eyes are impossibly dark and glazed over with something wildly lustful, his once pristine hair hangs dishevelled over his reddened forehead. Your baron’s lip curls wickedly as he sets a punishing pace, pushing you deeper into the sheets. It feels like he’s trying to fuck you through the bed.

His previous teasing had done a real number on you, and within minutes you’re moments away from cumming. You don’t think you could get much out of your mouth other than pathetic little whimpers right now, instead you reach up and pull the baron down for a deep kiss, one that he melts into fully.

When you do cum it’s fucking incredible. You’d never use a word that strong to describe a client before, but your baron brings with him many firsts for you. You cry out into his mouth as he picks up the pace to ride you through your high, your fingers dig into his shoulder so tightly you wonder if you’ve drawn blood. If you have, he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything it spurs him on as he fucks you to the point of oversensitivity.

He finishes just as you think you can’t handle anymore. His hips stutter momentarily, and tremors run down his spine in waves. The entire time he’s rambling in a foreign tongue against your skin until his pants of exhaustion overtake his ability to speak.

Your baron collapses on top of you but you hardly have the brainpower to care that he’s crushing you. Instead you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, listening to him as he catches his breath against your chest.

You yourself are struggling to even out your breathing, it feels as though you’ve run a marathon and the man on top of you seems thoroughly amused by that.

“Come now,” he says as he smooths a hand up your side “I wasn’t that good.”

You can hardly help the genuine laugh that escapes you.

“Humility doesn’t look good on you baron.”

The man in question huffs out a laugh before peeling himself away from your sweat-slicked body.

“I suppose I should make myself scarce. I imagine you have other, much more interesting clients to see tonight” he says, moving to sit on the side of the bed.

“You can stay and talk if you want, it’s entirely up to you. You paid for this, after all.” You say, secretly hoping he’ll stay for just a minute longer. You don’t intend to entertain anyone else tonight, but part of you is quite intrigued by your newest client.

“Well in that case I have one final question I’d like to ask” he says as he slowly begins to dress himself again.

“Ask away.”

Once his trousers are securely over his hips he pauses to look at you. There’s a soft expression on his face, as if he already knows he’s not going to get the answer he wants.

“What’s your real name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s asked again. Truthfully, it’s not the question itself that’s thrown you, it’s how tempted you are to answer it. His voice is so compelling at the moment that your name nearly springs from your tongue without you noticing.

“Oh baron,” you say quietly “you know I can’t tell you that.”

His lips press together in acceptance, and for a second his eyes leave yours. As he begins to get ready again, he gives his response.

“It was worth a shot.”

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Smith & Smith

There are a few things everyone knows at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc.

The coffee bagels are inedible, Adler will fake-fire someone on your first day, and you do not hit on Dean Smith, Senior VP.

(Not that Sam wants to - gross. But apparently it's salient information, because it's the third ever text message Gabriel Milton (HR) sends him. Maybe because he'd just joined as Smith's intern, Sam reasons. Well, to hell with stereotypes. Smith is going to be nothing more than a boss - or mentor, if he'd so be willing; Sam's heard of him, and he's kind of a genius after all. That's it.

Plus, Sam's in love with, and engaged to a nurse thankyouverymuch.)

And in any case, it's not like he'd needed a memo.

Smith is obvious enough.

Obvious, with his packed lunches and secretive screensavers. Obvious, in the way he unfailingly redoes his hair before leaving, cause he's "picking Cas up first" - and with his bright smile on Mondays, because "Cas only has Sundays off".

He grins non-stop, the half hour before lunch, and then spends it holed up in his office entirely - and if Sam returns early from his own break, he can't not catch the unicorn laughs emerging from there, glass walls be damned.

Once, in fact, a package got misdelivered, and Sam returned from lunch to a bouquet on his desk, labelled on a recycled paper card with a pickup line so ridiculous - wordplay on 'honey', in fact - that it almost verified the domesticity singlehandedly.

Dean Smith is married.

There can be absolutely no other explanation.

*

As days pass, Sam's workload increases, but he's learning what he's here to learn and is grateful for it.

He also notices him and Dean grow into a friendship of sorts - finding common ground in football, not liking pineapples on pizza, and having a Navy dad - and just like that, mentions of the latter's wife start coming up more casually.

Nothing unprofessional, or overshared - just a, "you know who eats burgers like no one's business? Cas." When he brings Sam a couple of burgers back after an assignment runs late into his lunch break - or even a, "Cas's brothers are dicks," when Sam goes into his office to submit a report from Sales, and finds him, as he rarely does, texting.

As long as Dean isn't dismissive of the work Sam puts in, and he never is, Sam's fine with it. To be honest, it's kind of refreshing to see a guy be a total goner for his wife. And he is - Sam can tell from his heart eyes, if not the fondness that envelopes his voice whenever he speaks of her.

It makes him happy as well, cause he's worked here about five weeks now, and it's enough to see that Dean deserves to be as happy as 'Cas' makes him.

All things considered, Sam's definitely getting used to it.

Until one friday, when Dean shows up at nine am and declares that Cas will be picking him up today.

"There's a strike at the library."

"I see." Sam returns, eyebrows raised.

"Isn't that ridiculous? Libraries going on a strike?" Dean grins. "It's like, you know, a book-march."

Sam fights the whelming urge to bitchface.

"Stop that." Dean swats at the air. Sam hasn't said anything, so he bites his cheek. "You're basically dying to roll your eyes. Friggin' take my jokes for granted." Sam shakes his head, suppressing a smile. "No, seriously. Go on, do it. Didn't stop Cas either."

At that, Sam breaks.

Mirrors Dean's grin from before he'd put on the mock-offended glare, and Dean soon joins in.

"I'll just save my fantastic sense of humor for later."

"For Cas?"

"Nah, someone who can appreciate it -" Dean cuts himself short. "Hell, who am I kidding? Yeah, for Cas."

Sam grins wider.

"I'll be leaving at five today." Dean informs him, before disappearing into his office. Seeing as the office hours are nine to five in the first place, that isn't off the norm, but since Dean finishes late almost regularly, it's probably worth pointing out.

This way or that - Sam knows he's going to be waiting for it to be five almost as eagerly as Dean.

He's heard so much about this woman. There's almost an air of mystery surrounding her at this point. All the facts Dean's ever dropped are cloaked with something close to fictional, because Sam doesn't know her at all.

And now he's finally going to meet her.

It's not like all he does, the entire day, is think about it. But it does make writing the reports for, and inputting April 2020's data into the server that much more of a fast process - since time flies until it's five.

And then, relatively, decides to stop.

Sam stares at the elevator.

He's done with his day - prepared to leave after Dean does, though definitely not before.

Waiting, he realizes, that he's formed something of a mental image. She's blonde in his imagination - probably a generic 5'5 or 6. Blue-eyed, cause Dean's mentioned that at least twice. And not to be creepy, but he assumes she'd be pretty too, cause his boss isn't exactly what he'd describe ugly.

So without meaning to, Sam's got an eye out for someone who fits the mold.

First man in, at two past five, is short and stocky. Second is Mrs. D'souza, a receptionist on the seventh floor.

Third and fourth are interns.

Fifth is a trenchcoated guy, squarer than Sam, with a wonky tie.

Sam sighs.

It's almost ten past five - and tardiness really isn’t his thing. Or Dean’s, for that matter. Staring intently in the direction of his elevator, he’s about to start getting righteously annoyed on Dean’s behalf when there’s a tap on his shoulder.

Sam swivels in his chair, taken by surprise - and slowly, his eyes widen.

Dean’s arm is slung about the fifth guy’s shoulders, grin directed entirely towards him. And he - Jesus, he - is six feet tall, trenchcoated, and wearing a tentative smile as he looks down at Sam.

Blue eyes complete the picture - plus a five o’clock shadow which never came up - and Sam’s head reels as he finally pieces everything together.

“Dean!” He exclaims, and it must count as a greeting, because it can’t really count as oh-my-god-Cas-is-a-man.

“Hey!” Dean beams. “Figured you should meet Cas.” And turning to Cas, “That’s Sam. My prodigy, basically.”

The heart-eyes have never been more obvious. 

Sam’s an idiot.

He can’t even grin like he’s supposed to - earning himself half an eyeroll form Dean - because he’s trying to figure out how he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“It’s good to meet you, Sam.” Cas says - and the fact that it’s the lowest he’s ever heard a voice go, makes him refocus enough that he can respond.

“You too, Cas.”

Dean’s still beaming, and finally, finally caught up with himself, Sam grins back.

He’s an idiot.

Cas just smiles wider.

(Well, one thing he got right. He’s definitely pretty. But measured against a scale of everything else he got wrong - there’s a long way to go.)

“Okay so,” Dean declares, far more chipper than usual. Someone could just’ve painted smitten across his face, really. “We should go. You probably guessed this but Cas isn’t the biggest fan of where I work.”

“You have a treadmill desk, Dean.”

“And I don't see you complaining about my stamina.” Dean throws back, and their eyes lock in a silent stare - heavy enough, that neither notices Sam looking away as subtly as he can. He’s not really supposed to witness them flirting - misdelivered packages asides.

Thankfully, the stare-off breaks when Cas points out that they were leaving.

And to the backdrop of Dean grumbling about Cas’s hatred for his job, Dean puts on his overcoat - well, he hands Cas his briefcase so he can properly do so, and then Cas just holds onto it - and they say their goodbyes to Sam and take off, walking close enough to brush arms all the way to the elevator.

Once they’re out of sight, Sam slumps in his chair, scrubbing his face with an incredulous laugh. 

Of course Dean Smith is married. And of course, Cas is his husband.

[scuttling]

Interview

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 1,729 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, First meetings Summary: Aaron finally gets the greenlight to hire a new agent. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) A/N: Sophie and Reid are partners, because I love them! Link to AO3 or read below!

It takes two months for Hotch to convince Section Chief Strauss to open a requisition for a new member in the BAU. There was a lot of paperwork to be filled out, including detailed explanations as to why he felt the team needed another profiler. He thought it was obvious: for all they do work together as a cohesive unit, Morgan and Elle were technically partners, and when she left, Prentiss took her place. Reid doesn’t have a partner, which makes him feel like a third wheel, sometimes.

(He won’t admit to it, but Hotch notices things. It’s kind of his job.)

Needless to say, the position becomes available, but it takes another couple of months—and several interviews—for Hotch to find the right person to fill it.

Agent Cortes comes highly recommended by the Intelligence Section’s unit chief, someone he worked on a case with in his early days at the BAU; she is young, just 29, but she is more than qualified, and the referring agent is someone whose opinion he respects, so he’s hopeful.

Gideon sits in on the interview because he respects his opinion, too, although Hotch will make the final decision.

Cortes is Latina, petite and polite, with a firm handshake, a warm smile, and dark, striking eyes. Gideon looks at her with somewhat passive interest (something only Gideon can pull off) as they go over the highlights of her resume.

“You have bachelor's degrees in Psychology and Sociology, and master’s degrees in Behavioral Science and Criminology, all from the University of Chicago. How did you manage all of that, at your age?” Hotch asks, wondering if maybe she is gifted like Reid.

“A lot of hard work,” she replies, and it’s an answer he likes. “I graduated high school, enrolled in a dual major program and completed the bachelors’ at 22. Then I was hired onto the Chicago Police Department, and I worked there and got my Criminology degree at the same time. The Behavioral Science degree came after; I began it in person, and they let me finish online when I moved here to join the FBI.”

“What interested you about behavioral science?”

“I grew up in a city that was rich with diversity, but I still noticed that certain people were susceptible to falling into certain patterns, and became curious about why we as people do the things we do. I was already interested in criminal justice, so it seemed a natural path to take.” He nods, jots down a couple of notes before looking back up.

“Tell us about your time with the Chicago Police Department.”

“I went through training while finishing my Criminology degree, worked a beat for about six months before being assigned to the Intelligence Unit; my sergeant found value in the way I was able to get people talking, and a large part of my work was with criminal informants. I worked in Intelligence for three and a half years, and for the last two I was on the Tactical Response Team as well.”

“Tactical Response—that’s SWAT?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you end up in SWAT?” Gideon asks, speaking up for the first time; she looks over at him for the first time, as well. “I mean no offense, you’re clearly more than capable, you’re just… small.” She gives him a brief smile.

“Well, there was a hostage situation, the team leader determined that we could get a vantage point from an air duct... and I was the only one who fit.”

“You don’t seem resentful of that,” Hotch notices, a bit surprised. It’s not an origin sorry everyone would be proud of. Her eyes turn back to him.

“I find it’s more important what you do with your time somewhere than how you got there. I contributed to many successful responses over the course of two years that had nothing to do with my size.” It is a great answer, and he holds back a smile of his own, simply nods.

“So you left Chicago to join the bureau; did you have your sights set on any department in particular?”

“I was torn between Language Analysis and Intelligence and ended up somewhere in the middle.”

“Intelligence because of your background, why Language Analysis?” Gideon asks.

“I speak 6: English, Spanish, and Italian as my native languages, plus Russian, French, and German. I have an ear for them.”

“Impressive,” Gideon says, nodding, lips pressed together. Cortes smiles, modest.

“It’s helpful; more than 30% of the population of Chicago speaks a language other than English at home.” Hotch does crack a smile at that, because the statistic reminds him of Reid.

“How would you describe your current role with Intelligence?”

“The official title is Intelligence Liaison. I’m part of a team that travels domestically and internationally, to law enforcement or government agencies, to debrief them on threats we’ve identified, or potential threat activity, and to help them formulate offensive countermeasures.” There is a lot of experience there that would translate well to the BAU, that much is clear. If anything, she may be overqualified, but they would never turn down the help.

“What’s the most frustrating part of your job?” It’s a question he always throws in, because true frustrations—and how one handles them—can say a lot about a person.

“When they don’t listen and people die. I do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen often.” He looks up from the form to the woman, who, in that moment, shows the things she’s seen all over her face. They’re gone from one blink to the next, and he breaks eye contact to choose his next question. No follow up needed there.

“It sounds like you have experience interacting with law enforcement, which is important here at the BAU. We can’t work on a case unless we are invited by the agency with jurisdiction, so maintaining healthy relationships is vital. We have a communications liaison who deals directly with police departments, sheriff’s stations, FBI field offices, and the media, but knowing how to handle them is a big part of the job.” It’s not a question as much as a confirmation, and she nods.

“I’m confident in my ability to interact with other law enforcement in a direct but respectful way. It’s something I’ve done a lot of as Intelligence Liaison.” He has one final question, and though he’s already more than pleased with the interview, the answer will make or break his decision.

“Why the BAU?”

“Curiosity is what got me interested in behavioral science, but it’s empathy that makes me interested in the BAU. My current work helps to save lives, but it’s all very large scale, and it can be detached, cold. I can be detached and impartial when I need to be, but I can’t deny it would feel like a better use of my skill set to make a more tangible difference.” He agrees, can already tell that she would thrive in the environment of their unit, and it’s just the kind of answer he’s looking for; he takes a few more notes, glances over at Gideon for input.

“Anything else you’d like to ask?”

“I think we’ve covered it,” he says, and he stands abruptly, which makes Agent Cortes stand as well. Hotch follows suit. “Nice to meet you. He’ll be in touch,” Gideon adds, shaking her hand briefly and leaving the room. She is left looking a little lost, and Hotch steps around the desk.

“I apologize for him, he’s a little…”

“Capricious?” she offers with a smile, and he laughs lightly.

“That’s accurate, actually. Please don’t take it personally.”

“I won’t. I’ve heard a lot about him, so he kind of lives up to my expectations.” She tilts her head, looking curious. “You don’t, though. Unit Chief Roberts told me you would be stoic; I expected someone much more aloof, but you’re actually rather warm.” He is a bit surprised by her directness, even more so that she would find him... warm.

“I doubt that my colleagues would agree with your assessment,” he says, thinking of the number of less than kind words used to describe him in the past. She just smiles again.

“I guess you really do need me on your team, then.”

He finds it hard not to agree.

“There are a few more things we’ll need from you, such as a psychological evaluation, recent performance reviews, a physical. I’ll be in touch with Agent Roberts, and then you, if we determine you are the right fit. I’ll see you out,” he adds, gesturing to the door, and she follows. The team, who was not yet in the bullpen when she arrived, looks on, curious, as they head to the glass double doors.

“Thank you for the opportunity to interview. I hope to hear from you soon,” she says with another firm handshake, and he nods.

“We’ll be in touch. It’s a pleasure to have made your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Agent Hotchner.” She gets onto the elevator, and he heads back to the bullpen, stops specifically at Reid’s desk, though everyone is nearby.

“Congratulations, Reid: you’ve officially got a partner.” Reid smiles, looking pleased.

“Who is she?”

“Special Agent Sophia Cortes. She currently works for Intelligence. Bachelors’ in Psychology and Sociology, Masters’ in Criminology and Behavioral Sciences. Fluent in six languages. Got her start at Chicago PD like you, Morgan—Intelligence there too. And SWAT.”

“SWAT?” Morgan echoes, impressed. “She’s gotta be 5’2” out of those heels.”

“She’s got glowing reviews from her superiors there, and from her unit chief: he called her resilient, determined, empathetic, a team player. She’s good at communicating with law enforcement, victims, even unsubs. The BAU is the right place for her. We’ll just be waiting on paperwork to make it official.” He crosses his arms, leans back against the filing cabinet. “I’d have introduced you, but she doesn’t know she’s being offered the job just yet.”

“She must have made quite an impression on you for you to decide on the spot,” Prentiss says, and he nods his head in agreement.

“I think she’ll fit in well. I saw a little bit of each of you in her, and she’s very…” He tries to think of one word to sum up the woman he just interviewed, and decides with a half-smile: “warm.”