#the visibility problem was a huge let down in my opinion

[redbleedingrose]

Update on Always Part 7

Always Part 7

Azriel x Fem!Reader NSFW Alphabet

Eris x Fem!Reader NSFW Alphabet

Cassian x Fem!Reader NSFW Alphabet

Rhysand x Fem!Reader NSFW Alphabet

Lucien x Fem!Reader NSFW Alphabet

Masterlist

Hello amazing readers and followers, 

I hope that y’all are doing amazing. If this is the first time you are seeing me in a hot second, I wanted to explain! My blog apparently experienced a glitch where my visibility on tags were demolished. I had no clue why and for real thought I was getting shadowbanned. I just heard back from IT and apparently it was only a glitch on tumblrs end. Because of this glitch though, Always Part 7 did not get the recongition I was expecting, and was overall a disheartening experience given I was looking forward to everyone’s reaction. 

So, I have added my links above for all the fanfics/headcanons (along with my masterlist) that I have worked on since this problem began! Hopefully yall will be able to finish reading all the parts to Always and I promise the epilogue for Always will be out as soon as possible to celebrate! Lucien NSFW headcanons will also be out tonight! (UPDATE: POSTED) I also wanted to inform everyone my requests are officially open, and I will get started on those ASAP! 

Coming out later this weekend: Lucien x Fem!Reader NSFW Alphabet, Always - Epilogue, and maybe some requests that I have gotten!! 

[masha-nikita]

How strong is his Mars?- Erwin Rommel

This is a episode 3 of my series on the Wehrmacht- “How strong is his Mars?” to test a theory in Astrology community- you’ve got to have a strong Mars to be competent in the military.

Let’s see how Rommel fares.

It is a very artistic-minded chart, and because of that, he's a beautiful mess. Let’s get Rommel’s Mars out of the way first, because the whirlwind of sparks and troubles appears with his Mercury.

Mars is in detriment under Libra. Libras are known to be peacemakers, hence this sign clashes HARD with Mars’ nature; the net result is that its natives are very passive-aggressive—our Fox wants to fight his colleagues, but not really. This Mars likes to prove itself right among peers, spends too much energy on what path is the right path, where consequences should matter most.

It is either a score 3 lousy Mars or 10/10 best thing ever; this Mars is very difficult to rate. It receives beneficial influences from the Neptune-Pluto aspect, but the influence is softer compared to Walter Model’s. A Libra Mars seeks inner balance from fundamentally imbalance strong forward thrusts. Libra Mars are not peace-loving folks.

Rommel’s Mars placement is in his 8th house, this HOUSE OF DEATH AND SEX doesn’t mitigate anything at all. He may act almost suicidal on the field, but in truth, his Mars seeks unattainable balances like living through death while not really dying, and love in enemies while this love is not possible.

Manstein’s Sun opposite Neptune may blow his self-evaluations out of proportions, but when Mercury opposite Neptune, our little fox is quite good at finding rhetorics to lie to himself, in short, a master rationalizer.

True, Neptune endows magical touches for these generals, but I would choose Model’s Neptune sextile Mars over Rommel’s Neptune opposite Mercury.

Because this Mercury is a Russian roulette with a huge lottery prize attached to it— Rommel’s mind could rationalize situations in such awesome way that dumbfounds his colleagues. When his rationalization works, his enemy just fucks off and never recovers from his attacks. But maybe 1/3 of a time it is his rationalization for the sake of it and thus he’s bullshitting himself. Thankfully a well-aspected Saturn somewhat tone down the bullshit part of it.

It is very hard to tell how his Venus influences his Mercury in terms of military prowess, but Venus-Mercury conjunct natives are IG models, very eager to appear pretty. Rommel has a tendency to regard his operations as his artistic handiwork and likes to take souvenirs from them.

Yeah, that one in the middle is Rommel (circa 1912)

and yeah, that is pretty. I don't know what to tell you.

Astrologers hold the opinion that Venus-Mercury native are generally refined and well-mannered, on the ground that these natives love art; but historians comment that Rommel took advice very roughly, and would rather go straight to Hitler for what he wanted. Rommel’s Venus is not that hard to understand, like—NO ARTIST ON TUMBLR LIKES TO TAKE UNWARRANTED ART ADVICE FROM RANDOS.

Diametrically different from Model, who is a war-realist, Rommel is a war-artist. Shove him under Gerd Von Rundstedt, he would under-perform; but give him a Bernard Montgomery, he does that immensely lovely and mesmerizing dance upon the ocean of sand. Much like an artist, Rommel’s performance depends on what enemy he gets. Around 1944, Von Rundstedt justifiably complained that Rommel is perpetually stuck in the mindset of a small commander and never really “grows up” to be a general.

Rommel is either too overrated or wildly underrated; modern historians support the idea that the British had their own post-war agenda to prop up a German Virgin Mary of some sort, so Rommel’s good image was an exaggeration.

Well, Manstein could bluff here and there with his Lost Victory, and Liddell Hart bluffs with him, but Erich’s accomplishments (and blunders) are still visible. The problem with Rommel is that you simply can’t rate an artwork.

Rommel heavily relies on this Mercury for artistic expression; a Sagittarius Mercury is fanciful and likes to touch every little gadget under the sun, gets distracted by mechanical toys easily. Rommel would probably get a broken cattle equipment from a nomad goat herder at the desert, then tries to figure out if this piece of garbage could stop tanks.

But an oppositional Pluto would make this Mercury too suspicious, secretive and sensitive. His commanders would hear him clinking-clunking away with garbage in his tent, but Rommel wouldn’t tell them what the hell this is- he certainly doesn’t like to be told “but marshal, we don’t have time for garbage.”

In conclusion, instead of worshiping the God of War for masculine killing power, our little hot-headed desert fox prayed to the fairy godmother—and it turned out well. His power lies in beauty, and he is truly, immensely powerful.

[bandtrees]

tell me about milton the presidential pool boy

SEND ME A CHARACTER AND I'LL...

OFC <3 i will do these solidly in uh... the order i remember to :D yay. milt is the perfect character to do this with though because my highly specific headcanon realities for him in particular are UNMATCHED. UNDER A READMORE—

Sexuality Headcanon: BISEXUAL ICON. also polyamorous of course, and objectum - which is obviously not a feeling he has words for but it’s part of what drives his initial attraction to marla and callum, his attraction to the objects in particular while they’re a novelty. i figured it would be an interesting segue into him being desperate to keep his ‘human’ face if it already stuck out in their relationship - but in a way he finds hot, lol. til it’s not anymore of course.

fun fact, in my milton fic that lays out a lot of what i basically imagine for him, i scrapped a line during him and callum’s arguments that would have been, in response to callum becoming more obsessed with the dialup/innovation overall, him trying to reassure callum that he would’ve loved him even without his object head - but of course he wouldn’t be able to lie like that, and would hold his tongue. it would’ve been a parallel to the last milt/marla scene, buuut i couldnt find a place to squeeze it in, lol.

Gender Headcanon: plain ol cisgender gentleman 👍

A ship I have with said character: WHITE HOUSE POLYCULE MY BELOVED. i am so very fond of callum+milt+marla you have no idea the mental illness i gave myself with them. i am a huge sucker for polyamorous ships and the amount of tragic potential with literally every combination of these three drives me fucking insane.

A BROTP I have with said character: i am sure him and norm would have a lot to talk about if they ever were to personally meet, lol.

A NOTP I have with said character: ...well here’s the thing about that. jokes aside though, if i can cheat and say “an existing interpretation of a ship i do like”, i do love callum/milt a lot, but i am specifically really not into the interpretation that it was an affair situation. for a lot of reasons - only one of them is that i’m as attached to the polyamory headcanon as i am. for starters, dubious a figure as he is, i don’t think callum would Do That, both morally and because i think a lot of his personality revolves around the fact that he only really views his life in service to other people and i can’t see him being that underhanded unless it was for a cause he really thought was just. when i think the problem with him is that he abandons his personal relationships for those causes.

that and, like… it just sidelines marla in a way i don’t like. dialtown, all my love to it, kind of already has a problem with its gender ratios and such and i don’t think regaling the female character in the equation to a beard or “The Wife” or whatever is fair — not to say i think every woman has to be shipped, but i just find her having an active role in callum+milt’s relationship way more interesting than any alternative. let her fujosh it out smh. plus i’m bisexual and will always take a well-thought out m/f ship over m/m ships that are just kinda there.

A random headcanon: lax as he appears, especially compared to callum, he has a lot of resentment in that weird little heart of his. he has an obsessive attachment to his own humanity, in a “weathered and it’s all i have” sense — being in wars made it so he felt a lot of his body wasn’t his own, but he wasn’t prepared to ‘lose’ it to the dialup, either. in a world where callum managed to actually force him to get an object head, he still would’ve committed suicide… after taking crown down with him, of course.

i also like stylizing him as having a black censor bar in place of a face :] with his trademark lil hat visible ofc lol.

General Opinion over said character: I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY FUCKING LIKE HIM. both my insanely specific headcanons and the framework that dogman themself has put down for him. he’s very interesting and some of the bleakest dialtown’s story has gotten - which inherently intrigues me a lot. i think he has potential for a perspective on dt’s story we really don’t see that much of - that being how the dialup must have felt at the time, and how genuinely horrifying it would have been.

i also, for a while - and this is really ironic coming from me - really really did not like milton. not for anything to actually do with him - i just really liked callum crown and, before learning who milton was, was incensed that so many people seemed to be more attached to what i thought was a throwaway name than his actual lore, lol. now i know better of course. now i have become fucking insane, at that

⬆ I LIKE HIM VERY MUCH

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

I wanted to get your opinion on this because I need to know if I'm just being silly or not:

I'm seeing a new slew of Pyro As A Girl art and I'm getting weird flashbacks to when this fandom was way younger and would fantasize about Pyro being a hot lady under the suit. I feel like it's been this thing of "Oh don't worry we've made her what I think the stereotype of butch is and shipped her with Miss Pauling!" but it really still feels like Pyro is getting the same treatment once again of "There's super hot tits under there for me to drool over" and idk idk. that's how I've been feeling and I can't tell if I'm just being silly or not. especially cause contextually it's always been that "Pyro is under there!"

like I love Pyro and I find Pyro sexy but not cause I need to imagine it's a hot woman underneath and I feel that this is that again but oh make her butch so it's fine she's still got a huge rack either way

Hmm something else I'm of multiple minds about! Let me try to break down my response:

I think an influx of trans/gnc positive art is a net good. I don't think the depiction of butch and/or trans suitless Pyro with visible breasts is at all comparable to the "fempyro" fantasies of cishet men. Context is important and a lot of people find depictions like this empowering

I agree that the idea that Pyro must be visibly More Feminine (or God forbid "female") in some way in order to be acceptable for Pauling to date is regressive. Using visible breasts as a shorthand for "butch" or "trans", especially when it's assumed that only transmasculine people/all transmasculine people look like that, is exhausting. Pyro does not need to look like what this website defines as "female" or God forbid "afab" or "women and femmes" or whatever in order to be an acceptable nonbinary person for a lesbian to date. Pyro could have a body like Scout or a body like Medic or a body like Heavy and they would still be able to be both nonbinary and sapphic

To be quite honest I think you're overthinking it. This is giving a lot of "secondhand dysphoria" energy which I'm not at all fond of, people get different stuff out of different headcanons and you just gotta make your peace with that! This kind of thinking can lead you down a path of regularly lashing out at trans people who draw trans characters you don't personally relate to and that's just not something I can promote. YOUR association of visible breasts with Pyro being "a hot woman" is YOUR problem. YOU are sexualizing that kind of body and acting like it makes them unable to be nonbinary or whatever. I'm trying to not sound harsh but you're making some pretty strong claims here that I'm not comfortable fully endorsing. There's SOMETHING here but ultimately it's dressed up in too much presumption and maybe even pseudo-misogyny for me to interpret in good faith lol. Good try but like, C minus.

[yuikomorii]

Admin I absolutely LOVE the outfits you give Yui and I wish she had that fashion sense! Even so, have you ever thought of rating Yui’s official outfits? I would love to hear your opinion♡

// Aww, thank you! I've always been interested in fashion, so I guess I'm trying to give Yui things that will suit her best. Also, sure, sounds fun! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

1. Dark Fate

This is probably a very popular opinion, Yui's best outfit is without a doubt her DF one! It actually looks modern and like something a teenager would truly wear. The high-waisted shorts definitely flatter Yui's figure, and I love how her shoes and socks match her shorts and blouse perfectly!

2. Lost Eden

Everyone knows I'm not a big fan of LE, but I have to admit that this outfit looks great on her! Maybe I'm just saying that because many girls here, including myself, dress like that, and even though it's very simple, it has a fresh vibe to it! My only complaint is that the skirt is far too short, which wouldn't normally be a problem but Yui is Miss Clumsy and falls down numerous times in LE (and in general), so I get second-hand embarrassment, lol.

3. Chaos Lineage

I'm a huge pink lover, I like how they made her outfit look formal but really comfortable. The dress gives me vintage vibes, which is a plus, and I love the socks and shoes; look at those cute pearls! Overall, the outfit is good, but I would have preferred it if they gave Yui a blazer to make it look less plain in comparison to the Diaboys' attires.

4. Vandead Carnival

This outfit is definitely… something. It’s not ugly for sure but it simply doesn’t give me Yui vibes. I’m not saying Yui has to only dress in pink, and it’s not like she’s canonically stylish either but those colors are way too dull for her. I believe it would have looked better if she tucked that shirt in that baggy skirt. Perhaps not wearing black leggings and having different shoes would have saved this outfit? At least it looks alright in cgs.

5. Lunatic Parade

I’m feeling bad for rating this one so low because I love LP so much but this outfit isn’t the best choice for her. Both pieces of clothing aren't bad; in fact, I like the ribbons on the jacket; however, the colors don't really suit Yui. Perhaps it isn't very visible here because promotional pictures are always brighter, but Yui's skin in the game has warm tones, and in some cgs, her skin and hair are exactly the same color as the dress, which doesn't give me an aesthetically pleasing image at all, since it’s way too… dry. Also, why were those black thigh-high socks included? It also bothers me that the shoes don't go with anything.

6. Haunted Dark Bridal/More Blood

Come on everyone, let’s act surprised! I already mentioned why I dislike this outfit but I’ll do it again. The pieces of clothing aren’t that hideous, the sweater would have been sort of cute if she took a high waisted skirt and tucked it there. As for the shorts, they are… okay? They would have worked better with plenty of shirts. Adding those orange/light-brown boots was atrocious, it’s not that they’re ugly, they just make the outfit look chaotic because pink, brown and orange isn’t really the most fitting combination for Yui.

(I remember editing once a full body version but I can’t find it anymore PAIN)

I wanted to include the school uniforms and other outfits, but the ones shown above appear in most cgs, after all. Still, I adore her black uniform; it makes Yui look really good! 💕

[ballet-symphonie]

I barely follow the Bolshoi simply because I'm mostly invested in the careers of the Vaganova graduates and most end up at the Mariinsky anyways. Other than Sevenard, whom I admire a lot, I don't follow young careers there. Only the good old timers.

Hence my surprise to see Eva Sergeenkova debuting as O/O yesterday. A corps girl, looks like a first season dancer and she already has solid soloist parts like Diamonds lead, Queen of the Dryads, one of Raymonda's friend (couldn't tell from the costume which one) and then bam! Swan Lake.

So here's my questions:

-did you see any clips? Found very little but I thought she had some lovely arms but had the same facial expression in every clip/picture. However I'm not remotely qualified to give an informed opinion. Any thoughts?

-I know they gave big roles to Kokoreva last season. Are they also trying to fast track young dancers to replace close to retirement principals?

-I remember Alina Somova debuted as O/O fresh out of school but I thought this particular role was very hard and not usually debuted this soon. They didn't even give it to Sevenard yet and I think she be amazing in it. So, is it really a kind of role that is kept for later in the career? Being offered this role is some sort of honor?

Sergeenkova’s O/O was better than I expected, considering I kept my expectations reasonable. O/O is a crazy hard role, and a huge honor to dance. Artistic directors don’t go around giving this role to anyone. She got it because they’re heavily invested in her. As I’m writing this, the news about her getting promoted to first soloist is just coming out. While it’s astronomically fast, it’s not at all unexpected considering how much she’s been hyped. I mean come on…this girl was debuting soloist roles (Henriette, Dryad Queen) before she even graduated BBA.

And it’s not particularly hard to see why, she’s got basically everything Vaziev likes: tall leggy dancers with big arches and lots of hyperextension, strong adagio and easy, light battements. Sergeenkova fits that mold perfectly and from the waist down, she’s pretty solid. The adagio, especially the White one looks very strong and stable. Look at how she does grand ronde de jambe without dropping the leg height and then closes into a super high passé, every développé is clearly turned our, and she’s hitting countless effortless penchés in literally every arabesque position, without dropping her back. Her adagio really has something special. I got some goosebumps watching her do those arch backs, her control is really remarkable. Even in the Black Swan pdd she had some beautiful écarté balances where she let go and then closed her leg with control, right into 5th. And she absolutely nails that classic swan attitude back pose, textbook.

However, there are some issues when you look at her dancing from the waist up (as most general watchers tend to do). She’s got a serious case of broken wrists, but so do most of the other recent BBA grads so that’s not unexpected at this point. It’s a stylistic choice rather than a technical one but I find it really unflattering when wrists are constantly dropping like hers are. What’s worse is sometimes her elbows are overly bent. Her upper body sometimes looks strange because she’ll get caught with her arms behind her torso, shoulders up, elbows overly bent and then that can disrupt your core placement because your spine will arch. Watch her pirouettes in her black swan variation, there’s times when she preps and takes force while being all out of alignment. Her turns in general are a bit wonky, in addition to her arm problems, she has a tendency to drop her leading shoulder which tilts her rotation axis, generally not a strategy for good turns, really visible when she does manege. Her pique turns are honestly a little scary. It’s a problem turning in the other direction too, you can see this really clearly watching her white swan final diagonal too. My teacher would be on her case about her ‘mitten hands’ when she turns as well, her fingers loose all shape when she turns or does manège.

As a side note: it’s much harder for lanky types like her or Kovaleva, for example to turn quickly/super well because they have such long limbs. Longer limbs require faster and even more precise coordination, which is especially difficult because their arms and legs physically take longer to move. Really flexible arches only make things harder, archy feet are pretty but rarely come with stability. There’s a reason all the bravada dancers are shorter.

Artistically, you can see her trying to emote and she does a decent job showing the character of the ballet at such a young age. No it’s not particularly fleshed out but how could it be? Of course, she’s got some moments where she looks quite tense but that’s what happens when you’re 19 and debuting the biggest principal role on the biggest stage. It’s to be expected, artistic growth in big roles takes time.

Some posters have been commenting about how BT doesn’t really have a dominating, big star killing it as O/O right now. Zakharova isn’t performing as much, it’s out of Krysanova’s and Obraztsova’s emploi and it has never really been an ‘iconic’ role for Smirnova. BT and MT are both in this strange place where they don’t really have any ‘young’ principals. Smirnova is thought of as the youngest one but she’s now 30, there is almost a generation of missing principals that they have to replace. Sergeenkova, Kokoreva, Kovaleva, Sevenard…these are people the company will likely be very dependent on in the future.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Facebook thrives on criticism of "disinformation"

The mainstream critique of Facebook is surprisingly compatible with Facebook’s own narrative about its products. FB critics say that the company’s machine learning and data-gathering slides disinformation past users’ critical faculties, poisoning their minds.

Meanwhile, Facebook itself tells advertisers that it can use data and machine learning to slide past users’ critical faculties, convincing them to buy stuff.

In other words, the mainline of Facebook critics start from the presumption that FB is a really good product and that advertisers are definitely getting their money’s worth when they shower billions on the company.

Which is weird, because these same critics (rightfully) point out that Facebook lies all the time, about everything. It would be bizarre if the only time FB was telling the truth was when it was boasting about how valuable its ad-tech is.

Facebook has a conflicted relationship with this critique. I’m sure they’d rather not be characterized as a brainwashing system that turns good people into monsters, but not when the choice is between “brainwashers” and “con-artists selling garbage to credulous ad execs.”

As FB investor and board member Peter Thiel puts it: “I’d rather be seen as evil than incompetent.” In other words, the important word in “evil genius” is “genius,” not “evil.”

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1440312271511568393

The accord of tech critics and techbros gives rise to a curious hybrid, aptly named by Maria Farrell: the Prodigal Techbro.

A prodigal techbro is a self-styled wizard of machine-learning/surveillance mind control who has see the error of his ways.

https://crookedtimber.org/2020/09/23/story-ate-the-world-im-biting-back/

This high-tech sorcerer doesn’t disclaim his magical powers — rather, he pledges to use them for good, to fight the evil sorcerers who invented a mind-control ray to sell your nephew a fidget-spinner, then let Robert Mercer hijack it to turn your uncle into a Qanon racist.

There’s a great name for this critique, criticism that takes its subjects’ claims to genius at face value: criti-hype, coined by Lee Vinsel, describing a discourse that turns critics into “the professional concern trolls of technoculture.”

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

The thing is, Facebook really is terrible — but not because it uses machine learning to brainwash boomers into iodine-guzzling Qnuts. And likewise, there really is a problem with conspiratorial, racist, science-denying, epistemologically chaotic conspiratorialism.

Addressing that problem requires that we understand the direction of the causal arrow — that we understand whether Facebook is the cause or the effect of the crisis, and what role it plays.

“Facebook wizards turned boomers into orcs” is a comforting tale, in that it implies that we need merely to fix Facebook and the orcs will turn back into our cuddly grandparents and get their shots. The reality is a lot gnarlier and, sadly, less comforting.

There’s been a lot written about Facebook’s sell-job to advertisers, but less about the concern over “disinformation.” In a new, excellent longread for Harpers, Joe Bernstein makes the connection between the two:

https://harpers.org/archive/2021/09/bad-news-selling-the-story-of-disinformation/

Fundamentally: if we question whether Facebook ads work, we should also question whether the disinformation campaigns that run amok on the platform are any more effective.

Bernstein starts by reminding us of the ad industry’s one indisputable claim to persuasive powers: ad salespeople are really good at convincing ad buyers that ads work.

Think of department store magnate John Wanamaker’s lament that “Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don’t know which half.” Whoever convinced him that he was only wasting half his ad spend was a true virtuoso of the con.

As Tim Hwang documents brilliantly in his 2020 pamphlet “Subprime Attention Crisis,” ad-tech is even griftier than the traditional ad industry. Ad-tech companies charge advertisers for ads that are never served, or never rendered, or never seen.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

They rig ad auctions, fake their reach numbers, fake their conversions (they also lie to publishers about how much they’ve taken in for serving ads on their pages and short change them by millions).

Bernstein cites Hwang’s work, and says, essentially, shouldn’t this apply to “disinformation?”

If ads don’t work well, then maybe political ads don’t work well. And if regular ads are a swamp of fraudulently inflated reach numbers, wouldn’t that be true of political ads?

Bernstein talks about the history of ads as a political tool, starting with Eisenhower’s 1952 “Answers America” campaign, designed and executed at great expense by Madison Ave giants Ted Bates.

Hannah Arendt, whom no one can accuse of being soft on the consequences of propaganda, was skeptical of this kind of enterprise: “The psychological premise of human manipulability has become one of the chief wares that are sold on the market of common and learned opinion.”

The ad industry ran an ambitious campaign to give scientific credibility to its products. As Jacques Ellul wrote in 1962, propagandists were engaged in “the increasing attempt to control its use, measure its results, define its effects.”

Appropriating the jargon of behavioral scientists let ad execs “assert audiences, like workers in a Taylorized workplace, need not be persuaded through reason, but could be trained through repetition to adopt the new consumption habits desired by the sellers.” -Zoe Sherman

These “scientific ads” had their own criti-hype attackers, like Vance “Hidden Persuaders” Packard, who admitted that “researchers were sometimes prone to oversell themselves — or in a sense to exploit the exploiters.”

Packard cites Yale’s John Dollard, a scientific ad consultant, who accused his colleagues of promising advertisers “a mild form of omnipotence,” which was “well received.”

Today’s scientific persuaders aren’t in a much better place than Dollard or Packard. Despite all the talk of political disinformation’s reach, a 2017 study found “sharing articles from fake news domains was a rare activity” affecting <10% of users.

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciadv.aau4586

So, how harmful is this? One study estimates “if one fake news article were about as persuasive as one TV campaign ad, the fake news in our database would have changed vote shares by an amount on the order of hundredths of a percentage point.”

https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/jep.31.2.211

Now, all that said, American politics certainly feel and act differently today than in years previous. The key question: “is social media creating new types of people, or simply revealing long-obscured types of people to a segment of the public unaccustomed to seeing them?”

After all, American politics has always had its “paranoid style,” and the American right has always had a sizable tendency towards unhinged conspiratorialism, from the John Birch Society to Goldwater Republicans.

Social media may not be making more of these yahoos, but rather, making them visible to the wider world, and to each other, allowing them to make common cause and mobilize their adherents (say, to carry tiki torches through Charlottesville in Nazi cosplay).

If that’s true, then elite calls to “fight disinformation” are unlikely to do much, except possibly inflaming things. If “disinformation” is really people finding each other (not infecting each other) labelling their posts as “disinformation” won’t change their minds.

Worse, plans like the Biden admin’s National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism lump 1/6 insurrectionists in with anti-pipeline activists, racial justice campaigners, and animal rights groups.

Whatever new powers we hand over to fight disinformation will be felt most by people without deep-pocketed backers who’ll foot the bill for crack lawyers.

Here’s the key to Bernstein’s argument: “One reason to grant Silicon Valley’s assumptions about our mechanistic persuadability is that it prevents us from thinking too hard about the role we play in taking up and believing the things we want to believe. It turns a huge question about the nature of democracy in the digital age — what if the people believe crazy things, and now everyone knows it? — into a technocratic negotiation between tech companies, media companies, think tanks, and universities.”

I want to “Yes, and” that.

My 2020 book How To Destroy Surveillance Capitalism doesn’t dismiss the idea that conspiratorialism is on the rise, nor that tech companies are playing a key role in that rise — but without engaging in criti-hype.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

In my book, I propose that conspiratorialism isn’t a crisis of what people believe so much as how they arrive at their beliefs — it’s an “epistemological crisis.”

We live in a complex society plagued by high-stakes questions none of us can answer on our own.

Do vaccines work? Is oxycontin addictive? Should I wear a mask? Can we fight covid by sanitizing surfaces? Will distance ed make my kind an ignoramus? Should I fly in a 737 Max?

Even if you have the background to answer one of these questions, no one can answer all of them.

Instead, we have a process: neutral expert agencies use truth-seeking procedures to sort of competing claims, showing their work and recusing themselves when they have conflicts, and revising their conclusions in light of new evidence.

It’s pretty clear that this process is breaking down. As companies (led by the tech industry) merge with one another to form monopolies, they hijack their regulators and turn truth-seeking into an auction, where shareholder preferences trump evidence.

This perversion of truth has consequences — take the FDA’s willingness to accept the expensively manufactured evidence of Oxycontin’s safety, a corrupt act that kickstarted the opioid epidemic, which has killed 800,000 Americans to date.

If the best argument for vaccine safety and efficacy is “We used the same process and experts as pronounced judgement on Oxy” then it’s not unreasonable to be skeptical — especially if you’re still coping with the trauma of lost loved ones.

As Anna Merlan writes in her excellent Republic of Lies, conspiratorialism feeds on distrust and trauma, and we’ve got plenty of legitimate reasons to experience both.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

Tech was an early adopter of monopolistic tactics — the Apple ][+ went on sale the same year Ronald Reagan hit the campaign trail, and the industry’s growth tracked perfectly with the dismantling of antitrust enforcement over the past 40 years.

What’s more, while tech may not persuade people, it is indisputably good at finding them. If you’re an advertiser looking for people who recently looked at fridge reviews, tech finds them for you. If you’re a boomer looking for your old high school chums, it’ll do that too.

Seen in that light, “online radicalization” stops looking like the result of mind control, instead showing itself to be a kind of homecoming — finding the people who share your interests, a common online experience we can all relate to.

I found out about Bernstein’s article from the Techdirt podcast, where he had a fascinating discussion with host Mike Masnick.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20210928/12593747652/techdirt-podcast-episode-299-misinformation-about-disinformation.shtml

Towards the end of that discussion, they talked about FB’s Project Amplify, in which the company tweaked its news algorithm to uprank positive stories about Facebook, including stories its own PR department wrote.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/22/kropotkin-graeber/#zuckerveganism

Project Amplify is part of a larger, aggressive image-control effort by the company, which has included shuttering internal transparency portals, providing bad data to researchers, and suing independent auditors who tracked its promises.

I’d always assumed that this truth-suppression and wanton fraud was about hiding how bad the platform’s disinformation problem was.

But listening to Masnick and Bernstein, I suddenly realized there was another explanation.

Maybe Facebook’s aggressive suppression of accurate assessments of disinformation on its platform are driven by a desire to hide how expensive (and profitable) political advertising it depends on is pretty useless.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_(41793470192).jpg

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[cyberrat]

59th Batch Of Fics: 6th Fill

Hanzo/Cassidy – Minotaur AU – Part 35 – action; violence – One job like any other... in Hanzo's opinion. Not so much Cole's.

---

Arriving at their destination in a black truck is not as glamorous as coming in any kind of sleek, nice car, but Hanzo did not want to go alone and was secretly glad that Cole insisted on getting there with him.

He sits across from his companion, arms crossed over his chest. For the occasion he has opted not to wear his kimono, not because he thinks it is less intimidating than his suits, but because Cole has managed to make him feel paranoid about the whole encounter and he just wants to be able to move as freely as possible… just in case.

Glancing over at his companion, Cole is sitting ramrod straight, eyes constantly staring out of the tinted windows, as if seeing things that Hanzo can’t. It makes him break out into goosebumps and shift slightly uncomfortable.

“Stop this.”

Cole’s dark eyes move back to him, one of his ears flicks but other than that he sits still as a statue. A huge, foreboding looking statue.

“I am not doing anythin’.”

“I can feel how tense you are. What are you so worried about? We’ve done deals like this a hundred times and more. Nothing is going to happen if they don’t want bullets through their heads. Calm down.”

Cole shifts minimally. He looks so damn uncomfortable as he visibly searches for words to express what might be upsetting him so much. In the end he just exhales strongly and shakes his head with an expression of regret.

“I can’t put my finger on it. But I get the feelin’ somethin’ bad is goin’ to happen. Your uncle is a damn piece o’ work. He’s got something up his sleeve.”

Hanzo huffs and shakes his head stubbornly. “Nothing is going to happen. It is a deal as any other deal. Calm down and stop making me paranoid.”

Cole huffs again but he does not reply, the energy coming off of him now more sullen than anything else, though Hanzo can work with that better than with him suspiciously staring out the window as if awaiting them to get ambushed any second.

They arrive at the warehouse without any issues. Hanzo turns around to Cole when he hears him shift. He wants to tell him to just stay put and let him do the work which would be the first time he forbade him to come anywhere with him… but he does not need to say anything.

When Cole sees his gaze, his ears swivel away from Hanzo and he shifts to sit back down on the bench he had been on during their car ride.

Hanzo swallows hard; but this is for the best. He can’t use that nervous energy when he is dealing with another clan. He needs his head free and his senses sharp; Cole hovering like a mother hen behind him because of some imagined problems will only make things harder.

He hops out of the truck and gives Cole one last nod before closing the door and making sure his suit is sitting perfectly. It’s been a while since he wore one; it feels a little restrictive but ultimately a lot better for fighting than his kimono would be.

There. He’s really gotten into my head, he thinks angrily as he makes sure his weapon is where it needs to be before he makes his way over to the warehouse. His men are milling around the truck, waiting for him to give them the signal to come in and start loading the weapons crates.

The door into the warehouse opens without a sound. He’s prepared everything beforehand, sending his men and making sure that the location was nice and prepped before using it for any kind of serious work.

When he steps in, however, he immediately knows that something is… different. The crates are there, though they are a lot less than he had agreed upon with the other party. Everything is quiet in the warehouse.

Hanzo inhales deeply, his hand slowly sliding underneath his jacket, fingers curling around the handle of his gun as he slowly makes his way deeper into the warehouse. A voice at the back of his head keeps asking him what he is doing.

He doesn’t know. He should immediately retreat and call backup but his feet keep moving, eyes flicking to the shadows in the warehouse. Is it his own idiocy or is it the stubborn part in him that does not want Cole to find out that he had been absolutely right with his suspicions all along? Well, one does not negate the other in this case, he supposes.

His fingers are not shaking; they are steady and still around the trigger of his gun as he makes his way over to the few crates sitting in the middle.

Carefully pushing the top of one of the boxes to the side, he can see that it is filled to the brim with the special katanas that they had bought; high-tech and impossibly sharp.

Worth a fortune that he had been unwilling to trust his Uncle with.

Hanzo stares at them, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Where was the other party? They would not simply leave their bounty like this. There is no blood on the floor to suggest that there had been an altercation, though.

He lets go of the lid, leaving it half pushed off the crate and finally puts his hand to the communication device at his hip to call in his men.

It is too late, of course. He’s been sloppy and he knows it when he feels the pinprick of pain at the back of his nape. He hadn’t heard even the slightest footfall behind it. Had he been so engrossed in his own thoughts? Part of him is reluctantly impressed with his assailant.

“Not another move, nephew,” Kenzo’s calm voice reaches him, the sharp presence at the back of his neck not wavering. He can feel a small drop of blood oozing from the tiny incision. “Or would you rather be called ‘niece’?” The sneer in his Uncle’s voice is palpable.

Hanzo’s heart is beating fast in his chest. It feels like it is starting to crawl up into his throat, hindering any remark he might have had.

“Put your gun down and turn around, Hanzo-chan. Nice and slow. Let’s have a little talk – just the two of us.”

As he says it, more shadows creep silently from behind storage containers around them, Kenzo’s men finally coming out of their hidey holes. Most of which Hanzo does not recognize… a worrying lot of them, he does, though.

Slowly, he puts the gun down and turns around, his hands up at his shoulders, his communication device burning a hole against his hip. Help is so close… yet so far.

There is one of their new katanas in Kenzo’s unwavering hand, its tip now pointed directly at Hanzo’s throat.

His Uncle is smiling thinly, eyes cool as he stares Hanzo down.

“You are still green after all. So much time and effort wasted into raising you into a suitable oyabun just for you to come out as an arrogant little shit that things he’s gotten it all figured out.

Oh well… things will be a lot easier without you.”

Hanzo notices the huge shadow behind Kenzo too late.

[sodasback]

Hickey

ER Nurse Rafe x ER Nurse Reader

Reposting from my deleted account with minor edits. 

Not my GIF all credit to owner/creator @ketterdamz​ <3

“Rafe Cameron!” You scolded as you inspected your neck in the mirror.

“What?” He called pulling back the shower curtain. 

“You left a huge hickey on my neck and my scrubs are not covering it.” You whined.

Rafe stepped out of the shower in all his naked glory and it was almost impossible to be mad at him ...almost.

“Take a picture babe, it’ll last longer” Rafe teased as he grabbed a towel and dried off. You ignored him teasing you for staring a moment too long and turned back to the mirror. 

He came closer to you to look at your neck. “Ooh yeah, that’s a good one. Won’t make up cover it?” He asked, touching his finger to your skin. You swatted his hand away.

“No, I already tried” you sighed. 

“Just wear your hair down today. No one will notice.” He dismissed.

“I don’t wear my hair down at work, it gets in the way and gets all covered in germs.” 

“Well, looks like your options are to wear your hair down for one day or to have everyone see the mark I left and learn what a dirty little girl you can be.” He ended his sentence in a lower tone as he took your earlobe between his teeth lightly. 

“Rafe” you breathed, “We don’t have time for this. We’re already late.” You said, shoving his scrubs into his chest while he pouted at you. 

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the one who pressed the snooze button twice.” You told him. 

Rafe groaned. Then, you and Rafe got in your separate cars and drove to the hospital, still trying to keep your relationship a secret.

-

Later at work, you had long forgotten about the mark on your neck and put your hair into a ponytail without thinking. 

“Looks like someone had fun recently.” Estephany commented.

“Huh? What’re you talking about?” You asked in confusion. 

“I’m talking about the hickey someone left on your neck” she said, pointing at it.

“Oh, no, it’s from my curling iron” you lied.

Rafe snorted. You turned to look at him with your eyes narrowed.

“Problem, Cameron?” You asked him.

“Isn’t your hair always straight?” He asked, knowing he was digging you further in your lie.

“So my flat iron then” You said with extra bite on the consonants, giving him a warning look.

“That is definitely a hickey!” Chloe exclaimed. “Come on y/n/n! Spill! Who’s the guy?”

“Is he cute? Show us a picture” Estephany encouraged.

“Yeah, Rookie, is he cute?” Rafe asked, obviously amused by the situation.

“Ehh he’s okay.” You said to the girls and then smirking at Rafe who shook his head with a smile, still amused by you getting grilled about the mark he left.

“The sex must be good. Leaving you with hickeys and shit? He’s kinky, huh?” Estephany pressed. And you blushed for a second until you caught Rafe out of the corner of your eye.

He had a proud smugness spread across his face.

“He’s pretty vanilla actually.” You shrugged, looking to Rafe. Now you were the one amused as he glared at you. 

“Ahh boo!” Chloe complained.

Your patient was calling for you, “I have to go” you chuckled, walking away.

Rafe got called away to admit a new patient, leaving Chloe and Estephany smiling at each other.

“So they’re definitely together right?” Chloe asked. 

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Estephany agreed. 

-

After that conversation, you put your hair back down. But later you moved it off your shoulder while you were helping one of the techs put a new sheet on one of the stretchers. 

“Oh damn girl. I heard you had a hickey on your neck. But shit, that’s gnarly.” Will, the tech, commented. 

Rafe was priming an IV line for the patient next to you and you could see him holding back laughs. 

“Shut up.” You told Will and Rafe, punching Rafe’s arm as you walked by and leaving Will to finish making the bed.

-

“Hey Dr. Bridges, how are you today?” you asked one of the younger ER docs that you had a good rapport with. 

“Not as good as you apparently. I heard you have a hot new boyfriend. That is a large hematoma, dear.” 

“Seriously?!” You yelled in exasperation. “Does everyone have an opinion about my hickey?!” you asked rhetorically, “I’m going to lunch. I hate all of you.” A chorus of chuckles came from your coworkers. 

You walked into the empty break room. You looked at your neck in the reflective surface of the stainless steel microwave. 

Rafe came into the break room with a huge grin on his face. 

“Don’t say a fucking word.” You warned. “This is all your fault. Now everyone thinks I’m some sex crazed nympho!” 

Rafe couldn’t hold back the laugh that came out. You looked at him with a deep furrow in your brow. “It’s not funny Rafe!” 

Rafe wrapped his arms around your waist. “Baby, no one thinks that. They’re just teasing! You know that’s just how we all are.” He assured you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’m getting you back.” You decided. 

Rafe was entertained by your threat, “Looking forward to it, pretty girl.” 

-

A couple days later you were sitting on the couch when you got a text from one of the night shift nurses you were good friends with. 

“Hey I heard about your hickey lol who’s the guy? ...or girl?” 

You glared at no one. And turned to see Rafe laying on the ground in the other room, stretching before he was gonna go run. 

You straddled him and roughly pushed his chin to the side exposing his neck to you and swiftly sunk your teeth into his skin and sucked hard. 

“What the hell are you doing, you little vampire?!” Rafe yelled at you and grabbed your hips, pinching them to get you to unlatch your mouth from his neck. 

You pulled back and smiled, admiring the wet, red mark you left. 

“Just getting you back for the other day.” You said simply and started to get up, but Rafe held your hips down and rolled so he was on top of you. 

“You think you can just come over here and do that and I’m gonna let you get up and leave?” He asked, looking down at you. 

“’Yeah’ seems like the wrong answer.” You said squinting your eyes in thoughtfulness. Rafe pinned your arms down and peppered tickling kisses all over you while you giggled. 

“Rafe!” you squealed. Let’s just say Rafe didn’t end up going for a run, but he still got a workout. 

-

The next day you were at the hospital and you got there before Rafe did. When he walked in you could spot the mark on his neck from across the room. No hair or makeup to cover it even a little. You smiled to yourself. 

“Nice, Cameron” Will said, fist bumping him in passing as he took note of the mark. Rafe barely looked up and just returned the fist bump. You furrowed your brow in confusion as the scene played out in front of you.

-

“Geez Cameron you and Y/N seem to both have partners who like biting.”  Estephany commented. 

“Yeah, my girl’s a little ...overzealous sometimes.” Rafe said with a smirk, before glancing at you. And the conversation ended there. You rolled your eyes. 

-

“You don’t look happy over here, Rookie” Rafe said, leaning on the wall next to you in the med room. 

You turned to him in a pout. “They aren’t teasing you like they teased me! This is some sexism bullshit!” 

Rafe smiled at you, “No, you’re just more fun to tease. You get all feisty and adorably mad.” 

You took a step toward him, “Me being mad is not adorable! Don’t patronize me!” you warned. 

“I’m not talking about when you’re seriously mad!” Rafe defended, backing up from you and holding his hands up to catch your’s. He backed into the wall behind him. “I’m sorry! You’re not adorable. You’re super scary.” Rafe tried to appease you.

“Stop pacifying me! You’re just making it worse” You punched his shoulder again. 

“Ow!” He yelled. You gave him a dirty look, knowing he was trying to make you feel better by pretending your punch hurt. He dropped his fake pained expression and smiled at you. 

“Y/N, you know I think the world of you. I have nothing but respect and admiration for you. I’m so happy to have a partner in life who does more than keep up with me; you set the bar babe. I don’t ever mean to patronize you. ...But you are pretty damn cute when you’re feisty and have an attitude. And you can’t even be upset about that because you’ve told me I’m hot when I’m mad too.” 

You rolled your lips together knowing this was true but not wanting to admit Rafe was right. He pulled you close to him by your hips. “I swear, I’ll never leave a hickey on such a visible spot again unless you ask me to. I’m sorry you got shit for it.” He said pecking the fading mark on your neck. 

“Thank you” you said quietly and smiled up at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry I left one on you too. Even though no one gave you shit for it.” You grumbled the last part. 

Rafe chuckled. “Let’s go home and leave marks other places, pretty girl.” 

“Deal” you smiled. 

Taglist: @moniamaybank @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @hernameisnoell @railmerafe

[anthrogothic]

Body/Prision

so, here we go to the second part of the fic. ours has been exciting to write this. I hope you like it <3 (originally written in Brazilian Portuguese. sorry for any error).

Third part here

Pairing: Echo x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, anxiety, panic, a little violence but nothing much and ~some physical mentions~ (and echo being a baby who needs care)

Heading towards the lab, you went through documents and reports on your datapad connected to the data network, finding the files of your newly known atypical clones, seeing that there were still three to meet in person.

One of them, with a rather traumatic past in your opinion. Another look like someone who is difficult to deal with. And lastly, one similar to your fellow nerds from college. Already imagining your scientific conversations.

You find your sweet auxiliary Omega standing at the door of the lab. She is also a clone, young and adorable. With short hair, the same color as the sun (if you remember the last time you saw one).

But with Jango Fett's pure DNA in her cells. Only you and Nala know this. Your conscience always brings you that painful twinge whenever the memory occurs to you.

"Y/N! I was looking for you!"

The girl came running towards you, with a scared face, taking your right hand and pulling you with her.

"Hey Omega, Stars, what's up?"

You almost shuffled your legs trying not to fall.

"I've been sent to help with clone ratings today! But Echo is very upset and I can't get him to calm down!"

Before you could ask for further explanation, you were already being dragged to the door of the room.

Stopping at the door, Omega pushed you inside when you spotted the trembling clone sitting with his back to the door, on top of the gurney, aiming his blaster at the three doctors ahead.

"Echo! I found her!"

The girl's voice was a mixture of relief and determination. The other three doctors in the room are clearly pissed off, hands up in front of the clone.

"Y/N isn't even a doctor, Omega!"

He yelled one of them, straightening and clasping his hands at his sides.

"You should have brought security!" yelled the other.

"She'll do it! She is better than you all!"

Screamed the little girl, pointing a finger at the three. You put a hand on her shoulder, signaling her to calm down. Gently you addressed the clone, froze as he stared into your eyes.

It was him… that clone whose record you were horrified to read. He was pale. With metallic accesses on his shaved head, a cybernetic prosthesis that covered his ears, his right forearm also cybernetic and thinner than most strong clones you know. Only the legs, also robotic, were covered by his blacks. His eyes were frightened and his limbs locked together at his sides, his good hand, shaking, still holding the blaster.

"A-Are you Doctor Y/N?"

His voice was deep, shaky and fraught with anxiety.

You, already with your heart sinking at his state, approached slowly, removing your white jumpsuit and leaving it on a small metal table nearby, catching the clone's attention with your tight black outfit.

"Yes… Echo, right? I assume you have a panic attack due to your accident… you shouldn't be brought into environments like this."

Your voice was calm and sweet. Looking at doctors with dislike in your last words. Echo looked away, clearly uncomfortable. The hand that was armed, wavering, and your hand slowly landing on top of the blaster, lowering it slowly, the clone giving way.

Suddenly one of the already impatient doctors approached abruptly and grabbed your shoulder from behind you.

"Let's go! We don't have time for theaters! Sedation didn't work this time, but nothing a dose would not do well on rebel clones!"

Spotting the syringe the doctor was pulling out of his lab coat, Omega jumped on his arm as she screamed. You turned, startled, seeing the fist that the doctor was already closing to hit the girl. In a rush of adrenaline, you punched him in the nose, he staggered backward, and Omega took the syringe from his hand. The other two came to help the doctor, who pushed them away claiming he was fine, looking at you with hate.

"You're in big trouble, girl! And you too, stuck-up scientist!"

His voice really was scary. But suddenly, Echo's voice came from behind you like thunder.

"Do something with them, and you'll have to come to terms with me and my squad."

His voice, full of hate and gravelly. His arm trembled as he aimed the blaster at the doctor, finger on the trigger.

"Not to mention the possible murder he was going to cause with so much sedative in a clone with a body not yet fully mapped to know the consequences."

Snorted Omega right beside you, all proud with the syringe in her hand.

"Uh, Nala Se will love to hear that."

You said, crossing your arms and looking at the doctor in defiance.

The attacking doctor flinched, growling as he left the room. The other two fearful:

"Please, it's our first week here. Don't hand us over to Nala Se. We just obey orders."

Begged one of the doctors, this one was much younger than the aggressor, probably doing residency with another colleague.

"Withdraw then. And let the rest of the team know the behavior of that bantha in the lab coat! He doesn't deserve to be your supervisor. He is the one who has to be supervised!"

Your voice was authoritative and even. All that remained was for the men to nod and leave the room.

Echo threw himself onto the gurney, breathing wildly and running a hand across his forehead. You stopped in front of the clone and slowly sat down beside him on the stretcher. Instructing him to take a few deep breaths, then slowly exhale for a few more, repeatedly. Echo tried to follow your directions, faltering a few times but picking up his pace eventually.

"There is! We make an amazing team! I told you, Echo!"

Omega's voice trying to bring relief to the tense environment. She continued.

"Y/N is the best! She will be nice to you!"

You, realizing the responsibility that Omega gave you, nodded with the girl's words.

"Well… I'm not exactly a doctor, as we've heard… but I know enough. You can trust me, Echo."

The clone looked at you with less awe, bearing in mind what you did.

"I- I feared that I would go through the physical evaluations again. I know they are mandatory, but... they remind me of the Citadel..."

His gaze roamed the metalized room, filled with stretchers, huge equipment, and light panels.

The doctors just didn't care and sedated him whenever it became impossible to assess him. Putting gadgets into his body, pushing him into big gadgets and treating his cybernetics like pieces of scrap metal.

"I don't want to be a problem again... I know I have obligations as a soldier, but I can't be okay here!"

He squeezed the biceps of his other arm with his hand, trying to stay in control as he felt a new wave of anxiety.

You gently placed your hand on his back, feeling him recoil involuntarily.

"Unfortunately it's standard procedure… but if you promise me secrecy, we can only do the basic assessment, and it could be in your room, a theoretically cozy place for you. I can do that from now on if you want."

Echo sighed, relieved at the option before looking at you again. His expression is lighter. Omega already excited to see her clone brother a little more relaxed. You smiled and calmly guided him to the dorm.

All the way the three of you were shot with stares and comments. You scolding each one with your furious glare, Omega stuck out his tongue at the attackers, while Echo lowered his head every time. His tall stature, allowing you to see his depressed expression from below.

Omega opened the door as you arrived soon after, still next to Echo. Omega pointed to the bunk and you asked permission to sit, Echo, growing more and more stunned by your sweet attitude toward him, nodded.

Placing the small silver suitcase you brought along on the floor, you took Echo by the hand, inviting him to sit beside you.

You asked permission with each movement and touch the soldier's body, trying to be gentle, as if his body were the most sensitive of porcelain. You were curious about his cybernetics, but you chose not to bring it up.

Omega was sitting by your suitcase, legs crossed on the floor, handing out all the little devices you needed to gauge the clone's basic physical parameters, but never looking away from him.

You explained what you were doing and why, warned of any movement or approach of the small devices and their purpose. Echo just nodded, getting a lot more confident in you.

You can't help but notice the tight, visible muscles. The heat radiating from the clone's body. The sharp, attractive shape of his body in that tight black outfit. Feeling the slight reactions whenever your fingertips touched him. The shy look he gave you.

Omega looked uncomfortable, pacing back and forth when you were wearing the last device on Echo's body, checking his heart function.

"Omega, what is it?"

Echo said low but firm, surprising you by the contrast to the voice that trembled earlier.

"I lied to Nala Se, saying that I went to get more supplies with Y/N, that it would take her time to get to the lab, so I could take her to you. If the confusion gets to her ears, she'll find out."

Omega ran her hand constantly over the back of her neck and through hair, the little eyes fearful.

You widened your eyes at the girl, remembering that you was requested earlier and for her boldness with the doctor (as if you didn't know her). Already trying to devise a plan to cover up the improvised procedure with Echo.

"Hm... I can talk to some clone friends to claim that we left Kamino for a few hours… I don't want Nala Se mad at us. And about the fight, well, we just defended ourselves."

You said with a smug smile on your full lips, forgetting your hand resting on Echo's covered chest, your hand already warming the spot. He watched your hand standing there, your skin seemingly smooth, the fingers small and delicate, rising and falling with his breath and causing a strange sensation deep in his racing heart.

The way you welcomed him and tried to keep him safe. You defended him. Just like your brothers before it all happened. He hadn't experienced this in a long time. But like a knife, he slashed his thoughts and threw them aside. He no longer allowed himself to wander through such things, after all, what kind of relationship could he have, being like that.

He came back to consciousness with your movement, withdrawing you hand and standing up, Omega already picking up the small suitcase from the floor.

"A-Are we done yet?"

A slight disappointment was clear in the clone's voice. You crouched down between his spread thighs, looking him in the eye, giving the clone's eyes access to your light cleavage and your silvery cord that went between your breasts.

"We've finished the basics, Echo. You are strong and healthy. I'll be back to do the rest tomorrow, after my shift, if you're comfortable."

Your eyes were like adorable little twinkling stars. So comforting and sincere, just like you, all the time with him. He nodded, a slight smile breaking his pale lips, bringing a slight, sweet swell to his heart.

You stood up, carefully taking the clone's hand, pulling a pen out of your pinned hair, and jotting down your personal communicator code in the palm of his hand.

"Let me know anything, Echo. Drink water and do the breathing exercises before going to bed."

Smiling, you turned around, heading for the door, being caught up by Omega just after she gave your brother a hug. The door closed as you remembered to scold the brave little girl for her attitude earlier.

Echo was left alone. Only with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears in the dim light in the room. The raindrops hitting the glass.

He put his hand where yours was moments ago, reading your code by pulling his palm away from his chest. He was calm. Something impossible after days of evaluations.

But beyond that, he felt real, alive, and eager to see you the next day, as much as his guts and gears wanted to say otherwise.

[kortsitron]

Cold-hearted

Pairing: Steve Rogers × Murderer!Male! Reader

Warnings: cursing (not much tho), mention of blood, mention of killing, it's kinda disgusting (understand it however you want)

Summary: Reader is a murderer gets captured by the Avegers after a long time. Steve catches contact with reader and falls in love with him, but was falling for him right?

// Hate me all you want after this, but honestly that idea for a one shot in my opinion is just *chef's kiss* I might do the second part, but I'll think about it. Leave your thoughts in comments and enjoy 💖 //

"So... Did you like your life or am I doing you a favor?" You said to the person being attached to a chair, who was crying already. "At least it's nothing personal, because if it would person, it would much worse than that." You murmured while making your way to the table where you had a lot of knives. Everytime you would kill someone, you always liked to talk to them. No matter what was talk monolog about, you liked it. It was kind of your traditions to do that. You knew that it wasn't relaxing the person that you were talking to, but it was relaxing for you. "It would say that this won't hurt, but it will." You smiled to yourself while taking your favorite knife. The person you were trying to kill, was having a hiccup from crying, but beside that everything was quiet. Way too quiet. "Something wrong, I can sense it..." You murmured to yourself. The next thing you knew was that Balck Widow came to your hiding place and kicked you right in the head, making you fall on the ground and lose consciousness.

"Got him, you can come in."

You woke up a few hours later with shook collar on neck and big handcuffs. You cell was huge, made out of glass and metal. "Good morning, prince. Hope you like your home." Nick Fury said to the microphone. You wanted to cover your ears, because of how loud he was, but you couldn't. "Around an hour from now you'll have an interview, so ya better get ready." You were quiet.

When the interview came, you were still quiet. Behind the glass, right in front you was a glass, you weren't seeing too well who was on the other side, but somehow you could tell that Captain America and few other people. When the guy that was supposed to interview you, got angry and started yelling at you, you were looking terrified. You weren't saying anything, but it was way to visible how scared you were. You managed to make eye contact with Captain through the dark glass, which made him want to get out of that situation. So that's why he stood up. "Where do you think you're going?" Natasha raised her eyebrow, when Steve made his way to the door.

"It think I should try talk to him." He answered before coming in. He talked for a while with a guy, before he took his thing and left. Steve took a chair and sat right on front you. You still were terrified after what happened. "It's alright pal. I'm not going to yell at you. Everything will be fine, if you're going to cooperate with me, alright?" You waited a second before nodding. "I'm not going to be a good cop or whatever so let me just ask - Why did you do it?" Steve was waiting patiently for you to answer, it took you a minute before you brought yourself up to speak. "I-I had to. I had n-no other option."

"What do you mean? Did someone make you do it?" You flinched at that, it gave Steve some kind of signal, that something was going on. He wasn't sure if you were telling the truth or not, but he decided that he wanted to believe you. "You can tell me, it's okay."

"I-I can't. I-I'm sorry." Steve was sitting here, looking at you, thinking if he should keep asking questions, but he just thanked you for that interview and left. "You knew that he used to spent a lot of his time in theater as a kid? Lying little bastard." Bucky groaned, while looking at paper that in the folder with your name. "You think so?" Steve asked sitting next to his best friend, reading the papers.

"Of course he is. Look at him, he looks like a person that would lie to you." Sam interrupted right before leaving.

"Looks like a lost child to me." Steve murmured under his breath. He was looking directly in your eyes, when four men was taking you back to your cell. "He really does looks like a lost child."

Two hours later, Avengers had a meeting in one of the rooms, discussing your situation and thinking what they should do to you. Steve was quiet, listening to what others were saying, even though your words were still on his mind. "Hey capsticle, you there?" Tony was snapping his fingers, trying to get Steve's attention. He blinked a few times before turning his attention to short brunet male in from of him. "So what did (Y/N) tell you?"

"Oh um... He told he had no other option, when it comes to murdering, that's all." Steve murmured as anwers.

"Liar!" Thor shouted, others agreed with him.

"Okay, but what if he's actually telling the truth?"

"I would believe it, if it wasn't him." Wanda responded, sounding a bit annoyed.

"I get it, but what if someone's making him do that? I mean, he wouldn't take it put of nowhere, right?"

"I understand what you're trying to say," Bucky added, while looking at Steve with straight face. "but aren't you're just into guy that murdered around one thousand people in one year?" When Bucky saw his best friend's annoyed expression, he couldn't help his laugh. "I'm just messing with you, punk. Don't be mad."

"I just that's more to it than we think."

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll find out."

Days went and Steve still couldn't get your words out of his mind, so he decided that he wanted to befriend you or at least make you trust him so he could find out if you were telling the truth. He didn't much time, because in a month, you were about to be taken to jail. So he went to your cell and saw you, being absolutely miserable and gently tapping on glass with your nails. It was dark in your cell, because it was night, but you couldn't sleep.

"Can't sleep?" Steve interrupted you, snapping you out of your thoughts. His voice was quiet, because he didn't want to scare you. You looked at him and smiled a little. "Thanks for saving me from that guy a few days ago. He scared be a bit, wasn't expecting that reaction from him."

"Wasn't expecting that either. You know where they planning to take me?" You were meaning the jail.

"No, everyone's doesn't want to inform about you, since I've decided to defend you at one of the meetings." He answered while scratching back of his neck, not sure if it was right to say that. "I told them what you said to me and everyone's now calling you a liar. I just thought other should think about what you've said."

"You believe me? You must be only one." You honestly thought he would be like the rest.

"Maybe. But I've heard you really liked spending your time in theater as kid. How was it?" This surprised you, he actually wanted to get to know you. It made blush a bit. Luckily it was too dark for Steve to notice your pink cheeks. You decided to talk to him, tell him about yourself and listen to what he wanted to say. You didn't remember the last when you had such a wonderful conversation. Steve seemed to enjoy talking with you as well. You were still like a lost child to him. You two been talking for around three hours, before Steve felt like you needed sleep. "Well, goodnight (Y/N)" He said with a smile right before leaving.

"Um... Goodnight." After that night, when Steve Rogers had a free time, he would come and talk with you. He would even bring you some snacks. Steve's friends were trying to stop him, because they thought you had bad intentions and they noticed that Steve was getting attached to you. Bucky knew him way too well and he was the most worried one from entire team and he knew that he needed to talk to him. He decided to talk to him  when he saw him going down the hall. "Steve, where the hell do you think you're going?" Bucky asked with very serious tone, immediately catching Steve's attention. "I'm going to talk with (Y/N)."

"Steve, you're spending too much time with him."

"I'm just trying to make him trust me. I just want to know if he's lying."

"He is lying and you're falling for him." Steve raised his eyebrow at Bucky's second statement. "You're falling for a literal murderer." Bucky sighed, not believing what he just said.

"I'm not, Bucky. Believe me." His smile didn't change Bucky's mind. "But now, excuse me. I gotta go, I'll see you around pal." He was aware of how bad it would if he was in love with you. He wanted just got informations from you, but he knew that he felt something for you. He wasn't going admit that.

Steve was talking with you, like he always did, but this time he decided to ask you about the thing he wanted to ask you for so long. He saw how you tensed up and got more serious. "It was multiple people. If I wouldn't do what they told me to, they would've kill me or people I care about. I had no choice." You explained it to him.

"Can you tell me who they are? Avengers probably won't have problems with getting them into jails."

"No." You sounded panicked. "They'll know that I was the one to tell you." You took a small break, before speaking again. "I wish I could do something."

Steve thought about your words for a second, before he got most brilliant or the worst idea he ever had. "Maybe you should join Avegers." He exclaimed, catching you off guard. "You can show that everyone is wrong about you and be finally free."

"I- No I couldn't do that."

"I think you just in need to believe in yourself a bit."

"But you would help me, right?"

"Of course. I think you would be a great Avenger."

"Thanks Steve, but I don't others would give me a chance."

"I'll talk with them don't worry." You smiled at him and he smield back, then he left, so he could talk with others about his idea.

"You're joking, right?" Sam asked, not believing what Steve just said.

"Let's give one chance, only one." Steve was serious, deadly serious.

"There's no way it would end in a good way, Steve." Natasha added.

"Let's take him on one mission. If he would try some of his tricks, he would go back to his cell a then to jail." That discussion was going for around 20 minutes, when finally others decided to agree with Steve idea. They didn't seem to be excited about giving you a chance.

Around week later, you've been taken on your first mission. You were stressed, but Steve was trying his best to comfort you by talking with you. You ended up with Steve, Bucky and Sam in some abandoned hospital. You needed to slip up and you went with Steve. Both of you used stairs to get into the basement and went of the room that were there. Everything was dark, but luckily the lights were working. "You think that we'll able to find something in here?" Steve asked you, but he heard nothing from you. Instead he heard metal door close. "(Y/N)?" He asked taking his shield and then getting kicked right in the face, which made him hit the desk behind before falling on the floor. It made his earbud fell out of his ear, but before he could even try and get it back, it was smashed by (Y/N)'s shoe. He wa trying to reach and get his shield back, but it was too far waya from him. "I hope you won't take this personal." You smirked before kicked Captain America in the face once again, but harder which made his nose bleed. "So it was all lies?"

"Yeah, nobody made me kill others, but I made people kill others, before I killed them. Just so you know, I just like killing."

"So it was your plan from the beginning? To make me fall for you?"

"Yes, but you also made me fall for you. I wanted to chance it, I even wanted to chance, but my first plan won." You kneeled so you could look into his gorgeous blue eyes. "Before I kill, I want to tell you plan. You deserve to hear it after all. Basically I want to kill every Avenger, because your getting too much in my way. It's way easier to trick police than trick you." Steve really didn't want to do it, but he saw not other way, but to punch you in the face. You hardly hit the floor, but quickly got up. Steve after stood up and got his shield. "I'm gonna feel bad after killing you. If you wouldn't make me love you, it would much easier." Steve threw his shield at you and hit your right in the abdomen, making you cower a bit. "You talk too much."

"I know, I know. Just shut up." You chuckled.

"You know that we don't have to do this? I really don't want to hurt you."

"Even after everything I did to you?"

"Yes, I still want to help. Just let me do it."

"Stop believing in me!" You cried out and took gun to your hand, before shoot him into his legs. He leaned on the desk he hit moment ago. He tried to hide himself behind his shield, but took it from him and threw it away. Then you threw away your gun and took knife that you were hiding the whole time.

Everything slowed down. It was the moment you were waiting for almost a month, but it didn't feel the same. You loved him and as much as you wanted to kill him in the beginning, now with the same passion, you wanted to kiss him. You knew you wouldn't bring yourself up to kill. You smirked to yourself before saying "Fuck you, Steven Grant Rogers." Then you stabbed him around his abdomen, you knew that this would kill him. You knew anatomy too well and you knew where you should thrust, so you wouldn't kill him. Right after that you left, hoping that someone is going to find Steve.

Steve woke up in the hospital, Bucky sitting on chair next to his best friend's bed and Sam was standing next to him. Other Avengers were on their way to hospital. "You alright, punk?" Bucky softly smiled at his friend and put his hand on his shoulder. "I felt worse. You found (Y/N)?"

"You're worried about him, after everything he done to you? He almost killed you." Sam said, Steve shook his head. "He told me that he loves me. If he wanted me dead, he could have shoot me in the head, but he didn't. He cares."

"So what are going to do?" Bucky looked at Sam with confusion on his face, before looking at Steve again.

"I'll find him and I'll help him no matter what. I believe that he can chance. He just needs to believe in himself."

[cranesofibycus]

cranes, what do you think about jester's kind of reserved attitude towards fjord lately? i noticed it in 122 but it really stood out to me in 123, when she didn't react to his kiss with the exuberance i was expecting. i love fjorester, so i don't think i'm seeing things that aren't there, but what do you think is going on in her head? is she just shy? having second thoughts? conscious of caleb's feelings for her? (you don't have to reply to this if you think it'll start wank)

I mean, I don’t think I have particularly controversial opinions on this, so I don’t think it would start wank? Just a general warning that if anyone’s huge into Fj or Wj and doesn’t want to hear critical analysis of those ships, they might not want to read this post.

Like many people I have also noticed that Jester is a lot less vocal about her crush than we probably all expected, however I don’t think that’s because she is faking it or isn’t really into Fjord. That sort of attention and reciprocation is new to Jester. She is used to being the one who knocks people off their balance with her unfiltered kindness, joy and forward curiosity. This is a lame comparison, but to me Jester’s crush on Fjord has always felt a little like a dog chasing a car. Now they are finally actually developing something and Jester is overwhelmed. Having a crush is so much more comfortable than dealing with reciprocation. Anyone who has been in that sort of situation before knows how different real romantic relationships are to what you expected them to be. Everyday romance is much more subtle, quiet and intimate than any narrative romance, which is great but also terrifying when you’re new to it. Part of her might be afraid that if she’s too forward with her feelings it might ruin things and drive Fjord away again (after all, Fjord only really came around to her once she stopped her aggressive flirting - though I reckon that’s more coincidence than causality). So yeah, I think a part of it is inexperience and caution. Jester is out of her depth.

You bring up whether or not Jester knows about Caleb’s feelings. Well, we know that she doesn’t know about them, but Laura has also said before that Jester is aware of the effect she can have on people. For a while now Caleb has been really bad at hiding his feelings for Jester. Like, excruciatingly bad. The tone of his voice shifts when he talks to her, he is a lot more hesitant to disagree with her than with anyone else (apart from Veth maybe) and he’s visibly affected whenever she touches him. Like, the guy is not subtle anymore and I don’t think he could be if he wanted to. The fandom picked up on his feelings ages ago (at least the part of the fandom that was paying close attention to Liam’s acting), Yasha picked up on it thirty episodes ago and I would be surprised if Beau hadn’t noticed it as well (jury’s out on the others - Veth because of her own feelings for Caleb, Cad because he’s not really in-tune with that sort of stuff, and Fjord because of his own feelings for Jester and his lower-than-healthy insight). I think Jester suspects that Caleb has a crush on her and I think she is being a decent person and a compassionate friend by keeping her own feelings a little more hidden when they’re in a group setting. I have my opinions on whether or not Jester might have feelings for Caleb as well, but I recognize that those opinions are tinted by my own wishes as a fan. 

That being said, if there is one thing I trust completely it is Laura’s dedication to her characters. I’m a little uncomfortable with the take that she of course had to go for things with Fjord because Travis is her husband and it’s his first time exploring romance in RP, so she couldn’t turn him down. That’s an awfully big assumption to make about the cast’s private lives and how they factor into in-game events. I trust that Laura’s loyalty at that table is to Jester, and I haven’t seen anything that would contradict that.

You have to remember that much of the conflict in Laura’s characters happens internally. More than the struggle of overcoming some outward problem, Laura likes to explore a person’s struggle with themselves. Her stories are about coming to terms with who you are and who you actually want to be. She already did a masterful job with that in how she played Vex’s development, and from how much the fandom is picking up on the subtle hints that Jester is actually really not okay despite her cheerfulness, I’d argue she’s doing a banging job with Jester as well. How does that factor into her behavior towards the romance with Fjord? I think Laura is weaving that new thread into an already existing tapestry of Jester’s inner development; a tapestry that is much, much bigger than she is letting on.

[do-a-reference-properly]

AO3′s users alert! Unauthorised fanworks copying

26/09/2019. Important update on this mess: we found a way to delete fanworks via take down request to the hosting provider. Please check it here https://do-a-reference-properly.tumblr.com/post/187926459079/finally-some-good-news

Dear AO3 users,

We would like to bring your attention to an ugly situation with unauthorized copying of works posted on AO3.

A lot of works from AO3 have been copied to fanfics.me (we’ll call this site FFM for brevity’s sake) and are still being copied right now, either:

— automatically by a code specifically created by FFM’s owner for this purpose, or

— by unaware or unscrupulous FFM’s users via semi-automatic method (by inserting a link to a work from AO3 into a web-worm on FFM).

All works from AO3 — with a few exceptions (I’ll elaborate on this below) — can end up on FFM without authors even noticing. Even fanarts or podfics.

FFM doesn't comply with DMCA which means that such reposts endanger fanworks' creators in case the copyright holder demands to delete the fanwork.

Authors of the copied works do not have any control over them; if the work is edited it won’t be updated on FFM until someone manually updates it.

Additionally FFM’s owner makes money out of reposted free fanworks from numerous Google and Yandex ads on each and every FFM’s page by having people go to this site when searching for fics on Google etc. So we recommend using an Ads Blocker when visiting this site in order to prevent the owner from earning more. Ghostery or Adblock Plus work just fine, but you can use any other Ads Blocker that is convenient to you.

Oftentimes FFM even shows up before the original post with the work on Google search results.

The owner’s e-mail: refery@fanfics.ru.

The owner at AO3.

We are trying to bring AO3’s users attention to this situation and help authors with taking their works down from FFM.

 Briefly about the website and its owner

Let me start from the very beginning as it will bring into the light the nature of FFM and give a good example of its owner characteristic behavior.

At first, some person with nickname Refery created FFM as a web archive where authors — mostly from Harry Potter fandom — could publish their fanworks.

Time passed, the site grew and added some features (blogs, pre-moderation and etc.), and all was good and well up till the moment when Refery decided that it would be a great idea to copy to FFM fanworks published on other Russian fanfiction archives — among them from the biggest and most known site ficbook — without asking authors for permission. Even those works that had “Ask me before posting the story somewhere else” mentioned in its text or summary were copied.

For some time nobody noticed, but when finally and inevitably this came out the authors were outraged. It took a lot of time to finally persuade Refery to at least not to copy fanworks bearing a special tag “Уточнять у автора” (Ask the author first).

But after some time Refery — without giving any notice — violated his own promise and resumed copying to FFM fanworks that had the agreed upon tag. The authors complained again, so very reluctantly and after many painful discussions this feature was reinstalled.

So FFM has been notoriously known, mostly amongst Russian fandom, for claims on re-posting fanworks without the consent of the authors.

We're mentioning this situation just to give you a detailed portrait of a person we are dealing with here.

Not only fanworks are copied to this website, but original works, too. Even those which were already published. There were all 7 of Harry Potter novels (both original text and translation), The Hobbit: There and Back Again (translation) and Vorkosigan Saga (translation) available for everybody to read and download. They were taken down only recently due to the attention this whole situation had drawn, but nothing ever goes away once it’s posted online and you can access the proof via Internet Wayback machine. We know for a fact there are other books on FFM and some actions have been taken in this regard, but still it takes time to find published books on this site.

Recently Refery decided that Russian archives are not enough for him and started copying all fanworks into FFM without any permission from the authors from numerous sites, like AO3, fanfiction.net, fictionpress.com, fanfiktion.de and likely other web-archives.

Moreover, the authors of these works can not delete their works from FFM and/or manage them. The site is in Russian only and, hence, we strongly believe that non-Russian speaking authors even do not know that their works are reposted somewhere else.

As a Russian fan-community, we have tried to stop such activity of FFM many times; however, we have not been successful in achieving our goal completely. Our most recent achievement is that the FFM’s owner implemented the "Don't copy to another site" tag created specifically for AO3 (here is the link to FFM’s owner post on his personal blog regarding this tag. Please use Ads Blocker!). This tag should be added to each work presented on AO3 in case the author does not want their works to be copied to FFM.

We are of the opinion that no work should be taken without permission in the first place, but this tag is all we’ve got.

Please note that it seems that some time ago there was similar case of unauthorized copying with other site. Please check this link, they give useful advice.

How to prevent copying from AO3

If you check AO3 you may notice that "Don't copy to another site" tag has hugely emerged in the recent weeks, but mostly amongst Russian users and there is a good reason for this: the owner of FFM announced this tag only in Russian and only on his private blog, so naturally there is no way for non-Russian speaking AO3 users to know about this — albeit non-satisfactory — solution.

There are no guaranties that the FFM’s owner won’t change the rules again as has already happened numerous times before (few examples we described above) and that works with this tag won’t be reposted in the future, but for now it’s the only quick and working solution besides making your works visible only to registered users, which is not ideal. 

This situation is highly unpleasant, but we ask you not to delete your works from AO3, because if the work is deleted from AO3 it will be nearly impossible to delete it from FFM: we won't be able to refresh it manually and remove the text.

Please note that adding this tag won’t work for texts that have already been copied. Only users who have accounts at FFM will be able to delete them. Each work needs to be deleted manually.

However, the Russian fandom — except for the owner of FFM — strongly condemns reposts without the consent of the author, so feel free to contact our volunteers (through DM or Ask on our tumblr page) providing the links to the works stolen from AO3, so we could delete them for you.

Unfortunately, it is not possible to cover all authors and works manually. So, we contacted AO3’ Technical Team with the aim to bring their attention to this situation and inform about it all AO3 users, and hope that AO3 team will find a general solution to resolve this problem, possibly, in collaboration with the AO3 lawyers.

We are trying to warn as many authors as possible and recently started spreading this information via comments on AO3; but considering the number of works copied to FFM informing all authors will take considerable time, and we can easily miss someone, especially since the copying is still in progress and new works from AO3 are appearing on FFM every day.

Please help us spread the word!

 We tried to make a comprehensive FAQ about this. Feel free to ask if anything is unclear!

FAQ

Q: Can I check if my work was copied to FFM?

A: Yes, you can.

FFM makes money on Google and Yandex ads, so we recommend turning on the Ads Blocker of your choice before visiting this site.

Please follow this link, insert the title of your work or your AO3/other web-archive nickname into the field containing the words "insert-title-nickname" and hit "Искать" (Search).

For works rated Mature or Explicit you will be able to see only the caption "Текст произведения доступен только зарегистрированным пользователям старше 18 лет" ("The text of the work is available only to registered users over 18 years old"), but FFM users are able to read and download the story.

Q: My work from AO3 was copied. How can I take it down?

A: First of all add the tag "Don't copy to another site" (without “ “) to the stories you want to be taken down.

Actually we would recommend adding this tag to all the works you don't want to be copied.

Contact one of our volunteers (through DM or Ask on our tumblr page) providing links to your works or send an e-mail with your deletion request directly to the FFM owner at refery@fanfics.ru or at AO3. 

There is a third option: to register on FFM and delete the work yourself by hitting the refresh button, but considering that the site is in Russian we do not think it will be very convenient to those who do not speak Russian language.

Q: I got the message that my work has been deleted. How can I check if it is true?

A: You can go to FFM, search for you work, click on its title and scroll down.

After the summary there is a field that should look like this for those fics that have been deleted.

Basically it says that the author of this particular work has forbidden its copying and that only the information on its title, author’s nickname, rating, pairings, summary and the link to original post on AO3 are available. 

For works that are still available on FFM this field looks like this (if the work is open for non-registered users).

Q: My work copied from AO3 was deleted, but FFM still shows some information on it. Can it be deleted?

A: Even though the text of the fic is not going to be on FFM anymore after it has been deleted, the fic's title, author's name, rating, pairings, summary and link to original post on AO3 will remain there.

The deletion of this leftover information can be done only by the site owner himself.

Some Russian authors tried to make him to delete it, but in most cases the FFM’s owner refused them mentioning that publication of such information is in line with fair use concept and doesn’t violate authors’ rights.

We are yet unsure how to delete this leftover information. In case you need it as well, try contacting the FFM owner at refery@fanfics.ru or at AO3. Maybe e-mails of a large number of authors will work, but unfortunately we can’t guarantee anything. In case you need it, we can provide Russian text for you to send by e-mail (please contact our volunteers through DM or Ask on our tumblr page).

Q: My work from fanfiction.net/fictionpress.com/fanfiktion.de/other web-archives was copied to FFM. How can I take it down?

A: Unfortunately, there is no possible way for us to delete from FFM the fanworks that are copied from web-archives other then AO3. Only FFM’s owner can delete these works, please try contacting him at refery@fanfics.ru or at AO3. In case you need it, we can provide Russian text for you to send by e-mail (please contact our volunteers through DM or Ask on our tumblr page).

Please do not delete your works from the web-archive it was stolen from, because if the work is deleted it will be nearly impossible to delete it from FFM.

Also it seems that some time ago there was similar case of unauthorized copying with other site. Please check this link, they give useful advice.

[mallowstep]

Genetics ask! I know that male torties/torbies are very rare and caused by a genetic mutation, but with those who do exist, are there any prerequisites with their parents? I’m assuming they’d have to carry the red gene since tortoiseshell is one red, one not-red, but I barely know anything. And based on this, is it better to just headcanon cats like Redtail as biologically female?

alright! hello, anon.

since i had to do more research than usual for this one, reminder that:

i am not an expert. i can and will be wrong. you can find my self-corrections under #corrections, but those are only things i or others have noticed, and that i've had the time to write a correction to and explain.

disclaimers out of the way, let's talk about tortie toms. (and torbie toms, and calico toms, it's all the same deal.)

if you know how ginger works, you can skip the next few paragraphs.

orange (ginger, red, etc.) is sex-linked in cats. what this means is that the gene that causes orange cats is on the x chromosome. it is also codominant, which means that having an orange x chromosome (Xo) and a non-orange x chromosome (X) is not black or orange, but both.

basically:

X or XX: black

Xo or XoXo: orange

XXo: tortoiseshell

yeah?

now, for the rest of this post, i'm going to be writing O and o instead of Xo and X because it's one less character and i don't run the risk of putting three x chromosomes together.

okay. so because torties need two x chromosomes, they're typically female. the way tortie itself works is basically, cells activate one of the genes (O or o) at random, creating patches. so you need two copies.

wikipedia says about a third of male torties have klinefelter's, which is the XXY karyotype. while this does have physical changes associated with it, the only way to confirm (humans have) klinefelter's is to test it genetically.

luckily, cats are very helpful about demonstrating it. what with them being tortie and all.

(we're also lumping in the variations of klinefelter's here. you can get XXYY, etc., and they all fit into the same broad idea.)

anyway, the extra x chromosome can come from either the mother or the father. this makes tortie toms...not quite easier, since the prereqs are the same, but y'know. if mom is Oo, dad doesn't matter. if mom is OO, dad has to be o, and if mom is oo, dad has to be O. same rules as usual.

XXY toms are going to be...not sterile, but pretty infertile. using human stats, about 50% can produce sperm, although the likelihood of them having kits is still low. humans with klinefelter's are also taller than average, so keep that in mind.

again, and this might be a correction on my part, i can't remember, but tortie toms aren't strictly going to be visibly different than other toms.

okay, so most people stop at klinefelter's, but there are two other ways to get tortie toms: mosiacism and chimerism. these are often confused/combined, but because i strive for generally being accurate, i'll go over them both.

mosaic cats carry multiple genetic lines, because of a mutation. this can either be somatic (happens in the body, is not hereditary), or germline (happens in reproductive cells of parents, is hereditary).

this is not always a gain of a line, you can lose a chromosome as well. the difference between somatic and germline and how it affects torties goes over my head, so i'm not going to speak to it, other than i'm pretty sure we're talking about somatic mosaicism. i think. again, not a biologist or geneticist, just a hobbyist with an internet connection.

right, so what happens is basically, some cells lose their extra x chromosome, giving you a cat with karyotype XXY/XY. these cats are more likely to be fertile and generally have less effects of klinefelter's. i'm not entirely sure how this affects tortie presentation, if at all, but it does happen.

i suppose you could also have some kind of mutation that gives you an extra x spontaneously, but that would be unlikely to cause torties, because it would also have to mutate into the other O allele.

again, i really want to stress that while i'm not bullshitting, i'm also not speaking definitively here.

last up is chimerism, where two embryos fuse in the womb, creating mixed genes.

i'm using a picture of a dog, here, because this is what goes through my head when i think of chimeras. you'll have to take my word for it, but while this would be a normal tortie cat, it can't really happen in dogs without some kind of mutation. and chimerism, given the extent of the patching, is pretty likely.

right! chimera torties are going to be, afaik, normal levels of fertile, although it's likely that they can pass on either black or red, not both.

(while i'm here, before we move on, there are a lot of types of chimeras. this type is called tetragametic chimerism, and it's rare in humans but more common in other animals. it's hard to know how common it is, because the differences are often very subtle, and hard to test. it's also not mutually exclusive with mosaics or klinefelter's, just to really muddy the waters.)

i don't have statistics for how common mosaics and chimeras are, and there's always, "a different type of mutation that doesn't fall into this category"

for mosaics and chimeras, the rules for inheritance seem to be the same as for klinefelter's. there's the added note that, because there can be multiple sires within one litter, a ginger queen could have kits with a ginger tom, and get a tortie son, as long as she also...ahem...with a black(/brown, etc.) tom. (or vice versa, with all brown and a ginger.)

okay! so that's basically how it happens.

as for the second part of this question, well. "is it better?" is a matter of opinion. i don't think anyone is wrong for having tortie toms. i don't care. (a) it is possible, and (b) we're all just having fun.

i, personally, do not think redtail is karyotype XX, because i like him being sandstorm's father with brindleface. idk. i like brindleface. yes, i know this raises huge genetic problems, and it's not very canon. i don't really care. i read that redtail fic where he thinks about sand&brindle as he's dying and it hasn't left me.

that said, i'm still a sucker for trans redtail. love it. idk, this is kind of hard to explain. like? it's not my headcanon, but i still appreciate it.

anyway! to the point: if you care about statistics and likelihoods and how many tortie toms you've had in the clan, yes, you're probably better off saving your chromosome anomalies for when they need to have kits, and using XX karyotype for the rest.

(under the cut: matthew rambles about trans cats and gender identity for a while)

i'm pretty sure cats don't have the western concept of gender. i don't think they have a human concept of gender, either, but at some point i need to be able to pin down something, and i think a third/fourth gender is closer to what they have.

i've been thinking about this a lot lately, because i decided i wasn't satisfied with my old approach to trans cats. i can do better than that. i decided cats don't have gendered pronouns, so why should the solution be, "trans cats don't really get to do anything about it"

no. i am dissatisfied with that.

at the same time, for specific reasons: i also don't think cats are trans in the western sense of the word.

because if for nothing else, remember that cat sexual dimorphism has a bigger effect on their life than in humans.

like, queens are going to be uncomfortable around male cats they don't hella trust and their kits. that doesn't go away if said male cat isn't a tom. y'know?

i'm in a constant state of tweaks with this, because i basically: form opinion, test opinion, refine opinion. my initial opinion was too harsh. and!

part of what's changed is i decided i wanted fernsong to be able to raise his kits in the nursery instead of ivypool. so i had to adjust how i think the nursery and queens work, slightly, to permit for that. now, i can turn back to gender and think about it some more.

i'm not going to coin any new terms, because i'm not in that kind of mood, but i think there is some idea of a female cat who is not a she-cat. i don't think the cats would call them a tom, but i'm not sure what they would say or how they would describe it.

i think they would just, on some level, get it.

actually okay you know what! i do need some lingo here. queens = cats who are raising kits in the nursery. she-cats = XX karyotype, considers self female (cis, if you will). toms = XY karyotype, considers self male (cis, again). and uh...we'll go with...

god i hate. i don't want anything i say in this ramble to be considered "words i am going to now use consistently" because i literally just need some way to describe this for my own sanity. with that in mind, let us use molly for XY karyotype, but not a tom, and...how about gib for XX karyotype, not a she-cat.

again, i don't want that to be considered permanent, i'm just fishing at words people use to describe cats so i can have something to work with.

right so, i don't think cats think gib and tom are equivalent, but i also don't think they (as a society) care about that.

like, okay, let's say redtail is XX, but not a she-cat. there's nothing to really be done (heck, if he wants to be a queen, that's still fine), cats don't have gendered pronouns or names, but at the same time, there's an intuitive understanding of what that means.

this kind of ties into the matriarchy, kind of? like, hm, queens are an important part of the matriarchy, but at the same time, she-cats inherit family lines. not that cats inherit much, but still.

i'm getting very abstract here. take, uh, like let's say a hypothetical trans mothwing. i think a lot of people have that headcanon?

and i think, like, mothwing would not be considered a tom. if cats had a concept of sexuality, leafpool would not be straight, because she likes mothwing, and mothwing is not a tom.

but! i would still think willowshine probably is the first line for nursery visits, at least when the kits are very young.

and i don't think anyone there would be unhappy with that deal.

right. i just kept rambling for a while, because i've been thinking about this and obviously it's semi-tied to the question.

tl/dr: cats don't care about gender, because they are cats meowing at each other in the woods. if a cat says they're not agab, everyone is just cool with that.

[pluto-writes]

Drunken Confessions| Haru Kato

A/n: I needed a drunk, blushing Haru in my life, say thank you to episode four everyone. Also, I just realized my birthday lands on the same day ep 5 comes out (〃^∇^)ﾉ very happy about that. (I know I said requests are closed but;;; if any Haru fans wanna... you can.) Not proof read, I’m tired and just wanted this done.

Words: 3k

It has officially been two years since you’ve joined the Modern Crime division, and to celebrate your accomplishment, your colleagues decided to have a small gathering for you.

Everyone was congratulating you, and praising you for your service and dedication for the past couple years. It warmed your heart knowing how much everybody cared about you. Mahoro even brought you some of your favorites candies as well, and it definitely made your night so much better.

It all ended too soon for your liking, but it was getting late and everyone still had to go to work early the next morning. The only person who hasn’t left yet was Kato Haru, a fellow co-worker of yours who started working in the same division not that long before you. You guys had that in common, and naturally drifted towards each other.

Now that you think about it, you hadn’t seen much of him tonight. You didn’t realize that earlier since you were too busy being surrounded by people.

“You’re not leaving, (L/n)-san?” 

“No,” you answered, walking around the room collecting the leftover trash left laying about, “I’m gonna hang back and clean up. It’s the least I can do since everyone was kind enough to host a party for me.” 

“Then I’ll help you too,” you heard the sound of wood clattering. You looked over to where you heard it and saw Kato grabbing a broom and dust pan.

Dumping the empty cans and used napkins into the garbage, you went over to him and attempted to take the supplies from him, “It’s fine, Kato-san. Really. I can do this myself.”

“It’s no problem,” he shook his head at you. “Plus, I can’t ignore someone in need of help!” He flashed you a pure smile as he continued to sweep the floor. You can’t believe how generous he was sometimes. 

He always made a point of helping others, even when it wasn’t necessary, or didn’t benefit him in any way. Maybe that’s why you fell for him so hard.

Taking a deep breath to calm your beating heart, you responded with a simple, “Thank you.” And continued with your cleaning. You tried your best to not invade his personal space, being alone with him and doing something so domestic as cleaning reminded you of things old married couples would do together. 

After a couple minutes, the room was back in its original state. You had to admit, if Kato didn’t help you, it would've taken you longer to finish.

“You did a good job cleaning,” you commented. He was both fast and efficient, it wasn’t a half assed job.

His face grew red from the compliment, “It’s nothing. Just something I learned since I live alone,” he rubbed the nape of his neck nervously. 

“I see…” The atmosphere grew slightly awkward since you couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Well, I’ll be going now, Kato-san. Thank you for all your hard work.”

“Actually…” He called out right before you left, “I was wondering if you’d want to come to my place.” You stared back at him, confused as to why he would suddenly invite you to his apartment. Unless he meant- “N-not in tha-that way, o-of course! It’s just that…” He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I have a bottle of soju for you and I left it home.”

“Is that all? Then you can just give it to me tomorrow, there’s no need to trouble yourself.”

“It won’t be any trouble at all. Besides, it’s for you to celebrate this occasion. Wouldn’t be much of a gift if I don’t give it to you the day of.”

Knowing how stubborn he was, and how he won’t let this go, you agreed with him and followed him back home. The walk there was peaceful, and conversation seemed to flow more easily now that you were out of work.

There were a few times where you caught yourself walking too close to him that you felt his hands graze past yours, you had the urge to hold his hand and keep walking like nothing happened. But you refrained yourself from doing so, he was a co-worker, and it would be unprofessional to do so. 

The two of you finally made it to his apartment, you trailed behind him as you walked up the stairs. It was a normal apartment complex, rightfully sized for someone who lived alone. 

Once you reached the door, Kato unlocked it and stepped inside. “You can wait here, it’s too cold to wait outside.” He started to take off his shoes, and placed them on the floor, then ventured further into his apartment. 

You listened and waited for him at the entrance hall. This was your first time at his place despite knowing him for two years, it had just never come up. You took everything in, it was a tad messy but you knew that just meant it was well lived in. 

Looking around more you saw some magazines laying on the table, and all his pots and pans hanging on the kitchen wall. ‘That’s right… he can cook too. I wonder if I’ll be able to try it one day.’

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” his voice broke you out from your thoughts. “Here you go.” He handed the bottle of soju in a bag over to you with a smile. You smiled back at him.

“Thank you, Kato-san.” You peered into the bag, and saw how much he had actually given you. The bottle was huge! You thought it would be those 12-ounce bottles.

Your shock must have been visible since he asked you, “Do you not like the flavor I picked out?”

“No, no. That’s not it all. It’s just a lot of alcohol. Especially considering that I don’t think I’ll be able to drink all of this by myself.”

“Let’s open the bottle now then! It’ll be a lot less lonely if we drink it together. And I can see your reaction when you try it too!” He got himself excited thinking about it. “You can leave your shoes here, and wait for me at the table. I’ll bring some shot glasses and something to snack on as well.” He walked off towards his kitchen.

You checked the time on your phone, ‘Just one drink won’t hurt, would it?’ You thought as you bent down to take off your shoes, and left them neatly against the wall.

You walked to the table and sat down on the floor. Curious, you opened the bottle and took a whiff. It didn’t smell strongly of alcohol, it smelled more like something fruity. But you knew that was deceiving and wouldn’t want to drink too much of it.

Turning the bottle around, it revealed the sticker on the front that showed a picture of a strawberry. “So it’s strawberry flavored… hm…”

“Yeah,” Kato came back, placing a plate filled with snacks on the table, then put a shot glass in front of you and one in front of him. “Have you tried it before?”

“No. I don’t drink that much, so this will be my first time drinking soju too.” You gave the bottle to Kato, and allowed him to pour some into your cup. Once it was filled, you took the cup and waited for him to fill his own. 

“Then I’m honored to share your first drink of soju. This stuff is really good.” After his cup was filled, he lifted the glass towards you, “For two years!” 

“For two years!” You cheered after him and clicked your glasses together. You drank the liquid, and felt it run down your throat. It didn’t give you a burning sensation as other drinks do, and tasted pleasant. You could totally see yourself drinking more, but you knew that if you did you’d regret it the next day. “This tastes really good!”

“Right!?” He began to pour himself a second cup, “I usually don’t get this one for myself, but I figured you’d like it.” You were still on your first cup, you wanted to take it slow and savor it. You could always drink more another day. You could feel yourself start to loosen up with the alcohol in your system. 

You continued talking with Kato, and saw him slowly start to lose his filter. You were right to not drink too much, he seemed like the type to handle his alcohol, but his face got flushed with each couple sips and his words began to slur together. 

It was cute seeing his composer dissolve, since he’s always professional at work and took his job seriously. Getting to see this side of him was worth

“Ugh.. And don’t get me started on Kambe… He’s insufferable.” He mumbled into his glass as he drank more, “Thinks money is the answer to everything.” You guys somehow got onto the topic of your colleagues, giving your opinions on them and retelling stories about them that made both of you laugh. 

Before he could rant more about Kambe, you interrupted him. “Can I ask you something, Kato-san?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking, we’ve worked together for a while. And we’re somewhat close, right?” He nodded along to what you were saying. “Can I call you by your first name?” He froze as you said that, and covered his face with his hand. 

“Ah! Uhm…” His face grew hotter. 

“I understand if that’s too much! It’s just that, the Chief calls you by your given name. You can call me by my first name too!”

He averted his eyes, “D-don’t… Don’t tease me like that…”

“What do you mean?”

“When you say stuff like that... It gives me hope.” He laid his head on the table, his cheek resting against the cool wood. “It makes me think that I’m not reading anything wrong… That you might like me back…”

“You like me!?” You asked, shocked. “I’m sure there are other people who are much better than me.”

“Tha-that’s not true! Not one… one bit! You are an amazing person!” He sat up in his seat, and used his hands to prop himself on the table. “You make me want to improve myself.. And do right by you…”

He leaned over the table, his face closing in on yours, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of alcohol from his breath. “There are too many reasons to list…”  With him directly in front of you, you could see how clouded he eyes looked from the liquor. 

He brought his face in front of yours, and closed the remaining distance between your lips. His lips locked onto yours, and he pressed deeper into the kiss. Stunned by the abrupt kiss, your mind didn’t register what was happening until a couple seconds later. 

“Wa-wait!” You shoved him off of you. He whined at the loss of contact, and breathed heavily as he regained his breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this! You’re drunk right now! I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

“Ah…” He touched his lips, “Your lips felt so soft…” The blush on his face intensified. Deciding that enough was enough, and that you wanted to stop anything further from happening, you stood up and went to his side.

“Haru.” You said sternly, your eyes strict, clearly showing you meant business.

“Y-yes!?”

“I think it’s time you went to bed.”

“Bed!?” His eyes widened. “(L/n)-san! Don’t you think this is going too fast!?”

“Not us. Just you. You’ll thank me later when you’re more sober.” You picked him up from under his arm and guided him to his bed, and gently laid him there. “Go to sleep.”

“Huh? But I’m … I’m not tired…” Knowing that was bullshit with the amount he drank, you humored him until he eventually fell into a drunken stupor. 

You pulled out your phone and looked at the time, “It’s way too late to leave now…” You said to yourself. “I guess I can fix things up around here.” You checked on Kato again to make sure he was sleeping before you cleaned up the table and carefully stashed the strawberry soju, just in case he woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to drink more.

Once you finished clearing the table, you headed towards the kitchen. “Pardon the intrusion.” You looked in the cabinets to find a cup and to hopefully find a cloth of some sorts. After you found a cup, you filled it up with water and placed it on the table next to his bed. 

“I still need to find something to put on his head…” You whispered to yourself, “The bathroom maybe? And I could probably find some painkillers as well.”

You opened the door to his bathroom, then opened the mirror cabinet that was above the sink. You ended up finding a bottle of Advils. ‘Jackpot.’ Twisting the cap open with a satisfying pop, you took out two gel pills. As you were putting everything back in its place, you caught sight of a hand towel laying on top of the rim of the bathtub.

You grabbed the towel too, so that you can use it to cool him down. Now back at his side again, you placed the two pills next to the glass of water, so when he woke up he’ll see it and take them. 

With a sigh, you walked back into the kitchen and ran the hand towel under cold water. You yawned as you made it back to Kato, and gently sat the cool towel on his forehead. He was still knocked out, and lightly snored with every exhale. 

Tired from everything that had happened today, you became drowsy, and watched as his chest rises and falls as he breathes. You eventually fell asleep, your head resting on his mattress. 

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

Sunlight shined past the curtains and hit Kato directly in the face, “Ugh..” He groaned as he sat up. “My head is killing me…” He rubbed his face, trying to collect his thoughts from last night. His eyes then landed on you, your body was splayed across the floor next to his bed. “(L/n)-san...?” 

He got out of his bed too fast, causing his blood to rush to his head and face plant onto the floor next to you. The thud of his body woke you up from your slumber. “Mmh…? You up yet, Kato-san?”

“You can say that…” He sat up straight on the floor, “My head hurts even more now…”

“Oh,” you peeled yourself off the floor and picked up the water and pills, “here.”

“Thank you,” he quickly popped the pills into his mouth and drank the water. 

“You probably won’t feel better for another hour or so... “

“It’s fine…” 

You shuffled in your spot, feeling awkward by what had taken place the night before. “Uhm… Kato-san, can I borrow your kitchen? I can make you something to help with your hangover.” 

“Hangover…? That’s right, we drank together didn’t we?” 

“Mhm,” you agreed. “You more so than me though.” You stood up and walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what you could make.

“What do you mean?”

Choosing to at least spare him of the embarrassment, you left some of the truth out. “You got really drunk, and started ranting about our co-workers.” 

“I- I didn’t say anything weird, did I?” He asked you worriedly. 

You pretended to think about it, “Hm...No. I don’t think so.” You took out a few ingredients before you spoke again. “You can go take a bath while I cook. You wouldn’t want to show up to work smelling like alcohol.”

“Right… I’ll go wash up.”

He left his spot and headed towards the bathroom. After he left, you let out a deep breath. “Ahhh!” You covered your face with your hands, “How am I supposed to face Kato-san now!?” You graced your bottom lip with your finger, “His lips… were soft too… But I can’t tell him about that! I’d die due to humiliation!”

While you were contemplating on what to do, you failed to notice the footsteps closing in on you. “(L/n)-san?” 

Startled by his voice, you jumped. “K-kato-san! What are you doing?”

“Oh, I forgot to take my clothes with me,” he gestured by shaking them in his hand, “and I wanted to make sure you were able to find what you needed.”

“Yeah, I found what I needed. Thank you for checking in on me.” He went back into the bathroom, and you heard the sound of the water running follow after. “I can’t make it obvious, or he’ll catch on. He’s really good at reading people. All I can do now is finish cooking breakfast, head to work, and throw myself into the void, to never be seen again.”

A few minutes later, Kato came out of the bath with a towel around his neck, his hair was still dripping. “You were right, (L/n)-san. I did thank you later.” 

You glanced over to him, “See, I told you so.” You arranged the food neatly on the plate and placed it on the table. 

He put his hands together, “Thanks for the food!”

You repeated after him, “Thanks for the food.”

Kato took a few bites of the food and smiled at the taste, “This is really good! You really are an amazing person.” You dropped your food as he said that. ‘Shit, he knew. He had to have known.’

“Umm… Kato-san… I-”

“I hope you know I really meant it, even if I was drunk. And what happened about calling me Haru,” he smirked at you, “(Y/n).”

“H-haru…” You tested his name out, still nervous about everything that’s happening. “I think you’re an amazing person too…”

“Glad we’re on the same page now. Let’s finish the food before it gets too cold, I wouldn’t want to put your cooking to waste.”

[mostlycompetentwriter]

“Small Things”- A Phobia Sequel

F/M Pairing: OC x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence, mature content

Genre: Mafia AU

Summary: The birth of his first child puts a lot of things in perspective for Chan, and he’s determined to do everything in his power to keep his family safe.

There were a lot of things in Chan’s life that he could’ve never predicted. For example, when he was just ten-years-old, he met two younger classmates in Mrs. Park’s fifth grade group who he never imagined would become his most reliable confidants. But hindsight was 20/20, and Han Jisung used to be a mess of small limbs and puffy cheeks who had an uncanny knack for sweet-talking the assistant teachers into allowing him an extra portion of chocolate. Meanwhile, quiet and leering Seo Changbin was the shortest kid in class, but it certainly never made him appear any less intimidating. Together, the three of them were a formidable force, and they found it very difficult to stay apart. Yet, Chan’s only regret when it came to his friendships was the harsh and demanding mafia world that he had brought them into as business partners.

Likewise, when Chan met his future wife for the very first time, she was nothing more than the daughter of the man who had murdered his parents and threatened to harm his friends. It was surely enough justification to convince Chan that he should stay away from anyone associated with that vile and horrible man who he was forced to serve. But his daughter was nothing like her father - and Chan was always the type to observe people from a distance and learn as much about them as he could. He listened with patience, and he was quick at sorting his enemies from his allies.

It wasn’t long before Chan found himself completely enamored with the daughter of the man he hated the most - and Chan was determined that she should never have to suffer anymore. In fact, it only took one stupid decision from her father before Chan was leading her as far away from that horrible life as possible. They settled down together, and Chan started to build his own reputation in a competitive world where survival of the fittest was taken quite literally.

Consequently, Chan learned to keep his wife near him at all costs, and she was never in the direct line of fire. Chan only brought her along when he knew that there would be no danger to her well-being, but even that eventually had to stop with the unanticipated surprise of her pregnancy. Thereafter, Chan worked tirelessly to ensure that his future child would have a good life, and he was determined to keep his personal life completely separate from his business affairs.

But after so many close-calls with rivals and partners alike, Chan decided to take a huge step down from his role as the prime authority figure in their organization. Jisung and Changbin were more than willing to fill his shoes because that’s the kind of the friends that they were - perhaps even more like brothers at the core. In any case, Chan’s role became minimal, and he wanted to be there for every step of his child’s life - even if that meant giving up what he had once prioritized and considered most important.

But life had a way of constantly changing - and Chan’s priorities shifted as well. Gone were the days of late-night stakeouts and meetings with buff and angry drug dealers who always wanted more than what they were worth. Instead, Chan traded most of his responsibilities for the simple pleasure of waking up next to his wife with their daughter sleeping in the middle of the bed.

It always brought a smile to Chan’s face: to simply glance over and see the tiniest and most innocent face in the entire world looking back at him with wide eyes that promised an unequivocal love. For his entire life, Chan had always fought for what he wanted, and he used his fists and cunning tongue to help him in most situations. Yet, when it came to his wife and daughter, everything was so much easier - there wasn’t any stress to burden his shoulders, and he never felt the need to constantly survey his surroundings for any sign of trouble.

None of that was necessary anymore, and Chan was beyond grateful for the inclusion of his own little family to cherish. Some might say that his world got a lot smaller, but Chan didn’t quite see it that way. His leadership of a mafia organization meant danger and deception around every corner, but being a husband and a father promised a future full of happiness as opposed to the constant risk of death and destruction.

It was a massive upgrade in his opinion, and Chan widened his eyes when he saw his daughter start to squirm around on the bed as if in discomfort. But Chan’s fatherly instincts were surprisingly natural, and he carefully collected his little girl into his arms for the short expedition to the bathroom. Chan gently laid her down on the changing table - starting the process of providing a fresh diaper while his daughter studied him with big, brown eyes that looked a lot like his own.

“There you go,” Chan said, smiling down at the joyful bundle who allowed a series of incoherent gurgles to escape.

It was at that moment that Chan’s phone chose to go off, and he sighed because he knew that it meant he was needed elsewhere. But he allowed the call to go to his voicemail while he brought his daughter back to bed, brushing a kiss across his wife’s forehead as he watched them both journey back to sleep.

In the meantime, Chan walked downstairs to stand on the outdoor patio, choosing a more private area to return Jisung’s phone call. It only rang twice before his familiar voice was offering a greeting: “Chan, we’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah, I’m listening,” Chan said, trying not to let his annoyance bleed through his tone as he allowed Jisung to explain the complicated meeting they were planning with one of the area’s biggest drug lords. Apparently, he wanted to meet with Chan directly, and Chan briefly wondered what could be so important than neither Jisung nor Changbin could satisfy this impossible man. “I’ll be there tonight,” Chan said, ending the call with an exaggerated groan of displeasure.

The club that had been chosen as their designated meeting place was one of the raunchiest in town. It made Chan uncomfortable to see the scantily-clad women waltzing around the joint, even if Changbin and Jisung were clearly enjoying themselves. “This is my type of place,�� Jisung remarked, eyes shining with mischief while he plopped a blonde onto his lap. She was young and beautiful, and she certainly had no qualms about giving Jisung an impromptu handjob through the front of his skinny jeans. 

Meanwhile, Changbin hadn’t taken his hands away from the attractive brunette who had spent a good solid five minutes complimenting his biceps before Changbin was pulling her along to their designated table. His lips were glued to the side of her neck, and Chan was growing slightly annoyed with the sound of her pornographic moans as if Changbin was somehow capable of giving her an orgasm simply by painting her throat with love-bites. “Let’s be professional,” Chan said, even if he knew that it would be hard to convince his friends to turn their attention away from two very willing women.

It was actually a good tactic on the part of their host - a useful distraction to lower their guards. Too bad Chan had outgrown these tasteless maneuvers, and he could handle himself while his friends had a bit of fun with their women. Of course, the host himself was rather extravagant with introductions, and Chan rolled his eyes when a richly-dressed young man marched himself through the entrance with several women attached to his arms and a big, burly bodyguard trailing along behind him.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said upon his arrival to their table. “My name is Don, and it’s an honor to meet the infamous leader of the Miroh Organization.”

Chan forced a smile in return. “Likewise.”

“Well,” Don continued, taking a seat next to Chan. “I can see your men are taking full advantage of our offerings.”

Chan grimaced when he realized that Jisung and Changbin had yet to acknowledge the presence of their host. “I’m sure they’re very grateful.”

“But you don’t seem to be sharing their opinion,” Don remarked. “Are they not to your satisfaction?”

“I’m not interested,” Chan said, and it was hard to notice - the barely visible upturn to Don’s upper lip as if he wasn’t happy to hear Chan say that.

“I see,” Don said, glancing between the two girls standing at his shoulders. “I didn’t want to believe the rumors, but I guess they’re true.”

“Rumors?” Chan repeated with an admirable level of patience.

“About your wife and child,” Don said, and Chan felt a sickly shudder creep down his spine. Because nobody was supposed to know about his daughter. “What a great risk for you,” Don continued. “How can you even ensure their safety?”

“We’re here to negotiate a deal,” Chan said, and he noticed that both Changbin and Jisung had finally tuned in after hearing mention of his family.

“And I’m simply proposing a few useful bargaining chips,” Don said with a sardonic sneer. “Let me say this, Mr. Bang: your asking price is outrageous. We want $10,000, or else you might never see your family again.”

Chan felt the entire world come to a standstill at Don’s declaration - like a dark curtain had suddenly eclipsed all the light left to guide his path and there was nothing left. For his entire life, Chan had never really valued his life all that much; in fact, he didn’t fear death or the prospect of what came after this existence. But the idea of hearing his wife or daughter’s lives threatened? Well, Chan had never felt a comparable rage to the one suffocating his lungs and igniting a fierce passion deep down inside of him. “This is not good business, Don,” Chan managed through the haze of red. “You won’t see a single penny from my organization, and if I see you or any of the scum associated with your shady dealership again, then I won’t hesitate to put a bullet straight through your head.”

He exhaled slowly when he stood up from the table, feeling some satisfaction when Jisung and Changbin dismissed their playthings in return. Because their loyalty was far more profound, and they would always stand by his side. Then, he gave Don one last warning glare before he led his men out of that horrible place - with no intentions of ever coming back. 

Chan was still shaking from adrenaline when he walked into his bedroom later that evening, and there was a sense of relief when he saw his wife lounging on their shared bed with his daughter steadily falling asleep in her arms. It was everything that mattered the most to Chan, and he took a step into the quiet room while running a stiff hand through his messy hair. “Hey,” Chan whispered to catch his wife’s attention.

She smiled at him, and it was enough to clear the earlier tension that had rested heavy on his chest. “You were gone for a while,” she said.

Chan nodded, and he paused next to her bedside. “Can I hold her?”

His wife seemed to notice the latent fear and uncertainty in his tone. “Of course,” she said, and Chan brought the wriggling bundle closer to his chest, looking down at his daughter because there was an undeniable innocence reflected in her eyes that dispelled all the cruelty of the world that he was forced to endure during his meeting. “Did it not go well?” his wife asked, studying him with the same look that he had grown used to seeing - the one that told him she was not at all satisfied with whatever was happening.

“It...caught me off-guard,” he replied, reaching down to adjust the collar of his daughter’s shirt. 

“Do you need to talk about it?”

Chan shook his head. “I think it would upset you.”

His wife inhaled sharply. “That bad?”

“It’s nothing that I can’t handle,” Chan said, and he was fiercely determined as he lowered himself down to the bed. “I’ll always protect my family.”

It was a solemn promise that was often difficult to keep in his world, but he had never felt this much love for anyone else before. Yeah, the mafia world was full of constant danger and seemingly endless trials and tribulations, but Chan wouldn’t dare say that he preferred that world to the one he kept safely hidden away from harm. Because his wife and daughter? They were his greatest adventure - and he would do everything in his power to give them the best that life had to offer.