#there's still something fundamentally wrong with the proportions of the face and the hands and i should learn to use sharp edges

[stillfruit]

edward elric, protector of dogs (x)

[dwellordream]

“...The Dothraki are described as having three main weapons: bows (AGoT, 86, 555, 558, 597, 669), whips (AGoT, 86, 194, 493, 555, 596, 669) and a curved sword called an arakh (AGoT 85, 86, 327, 493, 555, 556, 559, 560, 596, 597, 669, 674); of these, the arakh is clearly the most prominent... When a Dothraki warrior enters Vaes Dothrak, each, “unbelted his arakh and handed it to a waiting slave, and any other weapons he carried as well” – after the arakh, the other weapons are seemingly afterthoughts (AGoT, 327). The prominence of the arakh in the narrative is underscored by the fact that it is the only one of these weapons whose name we learn in Dothraki, or which is described in terms of its shape or special function (AGoT, 85), while the bows and whips remain just bows and whips (ironic, as it was Steppe bows, not Steppe swords, which were unusual).

We might dismiss this as simply an accident of Daenerys’ perspective – that, being Westerosi, she focuses on the weapon most meaningful to the Westerosi – but that’s clearly not true. After all, the offering of an arakh is how Daenerys’ loyal followers demonstrate their fealty to her, in a ceremony that is clearly Dothraki, not Westerosi (AGoT, 674). It is also, I should note, the only weapon we see non-Dothraki using that is clearly identified as being foreign and typical of the Dothraki. It remains special through the eyes of multiple point-of-view characters, including military men.

(And, as an aside, now that we are this far in, it seems obvious but worth saying that the fact that Martin has no Dothraki viewpoint characters in his narrative is hardly a saving grace; it merely intensifies the ‘view of a savage culture from outside’ effect. As we’ll see, this makes perfect sense given what seem to be the actual inspirations for his depiction.)

The prominence of a curved iron (or steel) sword lets us rule out a Great Plains Native American inspiration for this kit right out; the sword was never a significant part of Plains Native American armament (the lack of tool-metal production in the Americas prior to European contact means that there was no indigenous sword-making tradition, although the maquahuitl represents a clever sort of ‘sharpened club’ design). Even after contact, it’s hard to avoid the conclusion that the expense of trading for a sword wouldn’t have been justified by its utility over a steel axe which might also double as a tool (on axes, see W. Lee, “The Military Revolution of Native North America: Firearms, Forts and Politics” in Empires and Indigenes (2011), 62-3). So we must turn to the Eurasian Steppe.

And immediately we run into problems, not that any of these weapons are wrong per se, but that their proportion and prominence is all mixed up and that there are other, far more important weapons missing. For a Steppe nomad, by far, above and away, the most important weapon was the bow. The Armenians literally called the Mongols “the nation of archers” (May, Mongol Art of War, 43). Nomads spent the most time learning the bow (May, op. cit. 42-49) and it was the one indispensable weapon. Indeed, so indispensable that nomads were generally required to have several; the Liao Shi records that Khitan nomad warriors were required to possess four bows and 400 arrows, while John de Plano Carpini reports that the Mongols all needed to have 2-3 bows and three larger quivers (May, op. cit. 49-50). The Steppe bow itself would also have looked unusual in both shape and construction to a Westerosi observer either strung or unstrung – they were composite bows, made with a wood core, a backing of horn and a rigid end-piece (called a siyah in Arabic) and were generally drawn with the use of a thumb-ring to reduce strain on the thumb (May, op. cit., 50-1). This unique construction allowed these bows to reach draw weights and launch energies equivalent to the far larger yew longbows of England and Wales and still be compact enough to use from horseback.

...But even after the bow, the sword is not first. Or even close to first. Or, indeed, even on the list! The Khitan regulations I mentioned included four bows, two spears (one ‘long’ and one ‘short’), a club, an axe and a halberd, but no sword. John de Plano Carpini describes the full kit as two or three bows with quivers, an axe, ropes, and swords only for the wealthy (May. op. cit., 50). Speaking more broadly, May notes that spears (used as lances from horseback) seem universal in accounts of the Mongols, but “accounts are contradictory regarding whether these [swords] were universally used” (May, op. cit., 52). While May supposes that the ughurgh-a, the Mongolian lasso, might have been used in combat – and it may well have – we have no definitive evidence of it. If it was ever a weapon, it doesn’t seem to have been an important one.

In short, while the Dothraki’s weapons are an arakh-sword, a whip, and a bow in that order, the Mongol’s chief weapons were his bow, followed by his backup bow, followed by his other backup bow, followed by his spear, and then his axe and only then followed by a sword, should he have one, which he might well not. The reason for preferring an axe or a spear for the humble nomad should not be too surprising – iron in quantity could be hard to get on the Steppe. Spears and axes are not only weapons, but also useful hunting and survival tools; swords are generally weapons only. Nomads generally cannot do their own metal working, so swords would have to be imported. Moreover, even in a melee, the first recourse would be to a spear, whose reach on horseback was a huge advantage, making a sword an expensive imported foreign luxury backup weapon with no additional utility. Nevertheless, it’s clear that Steppe nomads, once successful and moving into agrarian areas, liked to acquire swords – swords are effective weapons! – but the sword was about the furthest thing from the core of Mongol culture the way the arakh is practically the symbol of Dothraki culture.

The other issue, of course, is the arakh itself. Martin describes the weapons as “long razor-sharp blades, half sword and half scythe” (AGoT, 85) and goes back to that scythe analogy (e.g. ASoS, 245). It seems generally asserted that what Martin means by this is something close to a scimitar (I have to confess, I haven’t found anywhere that Martin says this, but I’ll take the reader consensus). A scimitar of some sort (the term refers not to a specific form of sword, but a whole family of curved sabres, almost all originating in Asia) is the correct sword. Mongol swords were, John de Palno Carpini tells us, “pointed at the end but sharp only on one side and somewhat curved” (May. op. cit., 50), something like a Turkish kilij or a Persian shamshir (both forms of scimitar), though given his description, perhaps not as strongly curved as some of the examples of those types.

I have to admit, ‘scythe-sword’ (ASoS, 245) is a really strange way to describe most of the weapons in the scimitar ‘family’ (which includes a number of different curved sabres from Asia), though. A scythe-blade faces the wrong direction, but it is also sharp on the wrong side – scythes are sharp on the inside of the curve, whereas scimitars are sharp on the outside of the curve. There are swords with sharp edges on the inside of the curve (I tend to class these as ‘forward curving’ swords due to the direction of the curve when the sword is held), such as the Greek kopis, the Spanish falcata and the Nepalese kukri; of these, only the kopis seems to have been a cavalryman’s weapon (Xen. On Horsemanship 12.11). These forward curving weapons, being shorter and stockier, are clearly not what was intended by the arakh, which is consistently described as long (e.g. AGoT, 85, ADwD, 884).

Instead, the scythe metaphor fits the overall framing of the arakh, a weapon “better to cull the infantry ranks without breaking stride,” a “murderous blade against half-naked foes,” (ADwD, 884), a “wickedly sharp scythe-sword” (ASoS, 245), ineffective against armored opponents. Not an elegant, fine weapon, but a cruel ‘murderous’ one, made for ‘culling’ unarmored infantry and peasants, as one reaps wheat or hay. I don’t want to push this point too far – in all of these many pages, the arakh simply doesn’t get enough characterization to make the case watertight – but the characterization it does get all seems to push in this same direction: a murderous weapon for a murderous people…which of course fits with effectively all of the other characterization the Dothraki have been given. On the balance, I think Martin is a skilled enough writer to understand the implications of the scythe-sword description and to have intended them (and then subsequently reinforced them).

Nevertheless, credit where credit is due, while the place of the arakh is entirely out of all sensible proportion with how it would be considered by actual nomads, it is the correct sort of sword for a steppe nomad (if we assume it is, in fact, a scimitar of sorts). That said, prioritizing the arakh belies a fundamental misunderstanding of how Steppe (or Plains Native American, for that matter) warfare and culture worked. Placing the arakhat the front is thus indicative of deeper problems.”

- Bret Devereaux, “That Dothraki Horde, Part IV: Screamers and Howlers.”

[braided-roses]

What is the best way to tease someone?

A 3,449 word essay broadly covering the methods with which we tease

Twenty-five minute read

"There can be no true despair without hope... I will feed the people of Gotham hope to poison their souls."

Bane: Dark Knight Rises

“Without hope, there is no despair. There is only meaningless suffering.”

D. Morgenstern

For this essay I will define teasing as a playfully enforced delay of indulgence. While the above quotes are dark for sure, and do not directly apply to this topic, I think they highlight aspects of teasing that are foundational to its differences from other forms of play. I believe there can be no true teasing without hope of gaining one's desire. If one feels they cannot reach their goal or desire, I believe that becomes an expression of submission to another, to the situation, but not a teasing of the mind.

Studying the possibilities of this field of play is one that takes special care because it draws on what we know about our counterparts like few other disciplines do. It requires us to first know what our counterpart desires most, and how to then playfully enforce the delay of indulging in that desire. Finding out what another craves, and creating structures with which to playfully impede the immediate gratification of that craving are challenging enough on their own, but combining these working pieces of teasing into a system is incredibly complicated— requiring intimate knowledge of one's counterpart’s boundaries and turn offs. While there can be no best way to tease someone, because of our inherent human complexities, this essay will attempt to put forth the best practices I know to have a mutually rewarding and pleasurable experience.

I think the first step in the process of teasing is to gain understanding; Get to know each other, build understanding, rapport and trust. This knowledge may be gained through focused, play specific conversations. Communicating in this way allows effective play to happen sooner. For example one could have a conversation as brief as please rub my clit until you break my mind, I'll beg you to let me cum, but don't let me. I'll tell you to stop if something goes wrong, and we'll talk about it after. The two drawbacks of this style of conversation is that it will remove some surprise as there isn't enough information yet to synthesize possible play patterns on your own, and one will lack a whole understanding of the person one is going to play with.

If a more holistic experience is desired though, it comes through best, in many cases, through a conversation as broader life and fantasies are discussed over many conversations that take place naturally and organically. The bits of information that may apply to play may be more separated, but they come with so much more information that can all be used to generate a deeper relationship, and broader play. We learn about each other through the listening mentioned above, and in our turn sharing our own desires and hesitancies. We have to open up also so we can be cared for ourselves and build trust through reciprocated, honest, vulnerability. These conversations inform us and build trust as we learn that both sides hear each other, want good things for the pairing and will not shy away even from the more sexually hungry sides of each other.

While this type of understanding centered communication is meaningful on a grand, human scale, even in the comparably limited topic of teasing it is needed in many ways. First, that trust built will be necessary in teasing play as it often leads to walking the edge of what a person can handle in the moment, both mentally and physically. To what degree we can trust, we can relax our fears of being hurt, allowing us to enjoy each sensation with less calculation of how to protect ourselves, allowing us to live in the moment in proportion of our trust, and to have the confidence that our partner cares to hear us when we make objections. Secondly, the information gathered in good communication is essential in order to know: the desire we are waiting to fulfill, the stimuli we will later use to push our counterpart to the point until it consumes every bit of them, warn us of the stimuli that could end play terribly, and how to recover from that event should it happen.

Some examples of what we may learn about play in everyday life- You may learn how meaningful it is to your partner when you hold your partner's face in your hands as you kiss them, or he/she may ask you if the you like being made to chase them down in a kiss. They might mention how they love the pain of their workouts, or that high rep sets are their favorite because they get test how long they can go before their will breaks. Watching a movie, and seeing one of the couples depicted playfully kissing each other, your partner might reveal that pulling away from a kiss doesn’t read as a building of desire to them, instead it feels like one is trivializing their highest expression of love— Making them feel their love is disrespected and devolved into a game. These lessons should be drawn deeply within ourselves. Making note of what makes them feel loved and pleausured, and special note of what makes them feel awful. Violating these turnoffs by accident or design may have terrible trust breaking outcomes. It is important to understand the reasonings and depth of their dislikes. One's dislike may be superficial, like forms of pain that, with a different approach, can be enjoyable, but some, like the kiss, may be fundamental to their world view. (Example of what could be synthesized from the above person’s information may be found at the bottom — Bonus Example 2)

The second thing is to determine how you will delay their indulgence in what they crave, by means of space, time, or even their own will. All of these modes and tools can be used in vast and narrow applications. Space, for example, can be used in inches or miles. Suppose your submissive wanted to touch, but you knew they wanted to be teased even more than to rub. You could grab your trusty ropes and tie their hands, one to the bed post, and the other by way of slinging a rope through the head board. You could release the tension until their hand is an inch away from their most sensitive spot. They can twist and moan and beg as they can almost reach, their finger tips just able to move the sensitive flesh nearest their most sensitive spot. They could reach up and play with less sensitive spots, but they won’t be able to reach any more, at least not without raising their hips to their hand, which can become quite challenging. Space has now been used as a tease. A boundary on their experience that they cannot get out of, nor do they truly wish to escape. A second instance of space as a teasing tool, known as "The Kiss" will be given in my final example at the end of this essay (Bonus example 1)

As examples for time and space — At work, one could be sending sexy texts to their counterpart who decides to be a little bratty. The dominant in this exchange could text back, “Say that again and I’ll have to remind you what happens to brats when their dominant gets home.” Knowing that their submissive will have to wait hours longer for the thrill of the attention of the punishment they asked for. In the same way a domme could send, "You've been such a good boy today, working so hard at work. I’ll keep dinner hot for you." Attached to this text would be little gif of her rubbing herself for him. He too will have to endure the boundaries of time and space. Time has been a tease in that hours will pass before they get their desire. Space has been incorporated in time because even if all parties from the individual couples decided to meet in the middle somewhere, they'd still be teased by time as they cannot magically teleport home to cross the space (if you can, please teach me). An example of time alone being a tease would be giving a submissive a vibrator with only five or ten minutes charge left in it. They can play all they want with it, but they don't know how long it will last.

The previous examples examined using time in minutes or hours, Time, like space, though, is incremental. Time can be used in minutes, hours, or like in the next example, seconds. Suppose you had an exhibitionist submissive walk with you in the woods and told them that they will flash you whenever you want them to. Already they’d be excited to have their desire at hand, knowing you crave to see them exposed, as well as the desire to be under your caring control. As you two walk you command your submissive to flash you for a few seconds here and there. Blushing, but proud, they obey. You praise them appropriately and enjoy your walk. Eventually you two hear the distant, barley audible, murmurs and stompings of a team of hikers. This time you turn to your submissive, order them to stop walking and command them to flash you, they willingly obey, but the knowledge that hikers are approaching you they risk discovery. They can hear the hikers drawing closer and they continue to obey, trusting you. Each tenth of a second registering in their minds and each snap of a twig causing their heart to pound in excitement. Time has become a tool for this second by second tease. As soon as you hear the first full word of the hikers you know they are almost close enough to see, so you order your sub to cover. You then praise your sub highly for their perfect submission and continue on your walk, no hiker the wiser.

Will is unique among the teasing tools. Time and space exist outside of our bodies, but will is our’s alone to interact with. Of all the tools of teasing will is perhaps the most wicked and most variable of all. If your submissive is a lawful-good type and aims to please, then you could use their will as a tease and simply ask them to spread their legs and start to rub or stroke for you. Tell them that they are not to cum without your permission. The pleasure from their body mixes with the pleasure from their mind as they internalize the fact that they are uniquely pleasing you, hopefully bolstered by your praise. These stimuli serve to push against their will to obey. What makes this particular mode so wicked is that their desire to please and obey is fueling their mental pleasure. Their will to obey forces them to stay within the boundaries you set, or lose what they truly crave- the sensation of pleasing you. As they get closer and closer their requests turn to quivering moans and groans- the craved treat of a teasing dominant-. You tell them no, and they continue to obey, rubbing or stroking for you. Their requests are denied until they speak in pleadings and beggings. In a bounded, short term tease of ending play, you simply let them cum, and praise them for their perfect obedience. In a boundless, pushing kind of tease though, you could deny permission until they slip over the edge and spectacularly cum. This form of play, for an obedience minded submissive, will feel like disobedience to them. — You must reinforce the fact they did all they could to obey you. You wanted to find their limit and they showed you beautifully.

For long term teasing you could tell them they are not to cum without your permission, if they do they will be punished for it. This punishment is one they are okay with, but might not know. This leaves them to fight their own will for pleasure, obedience, freedom, and even pain. Lest they slip over the edge, they might force themselves to stop altogether, or you could command them to stop, leaving them quivering in utter denial. Their will has been the tease preventing them from indulging in orgasm. You comfort them and tell them maybe you’ll change your mind tomorrow, but, for know, they're done. Now time and will act as the tease. You cannot supervise them at all times, and especially without chastity- their own self will begins tease them until eventually they must resist their own desires at all hours of the day. Proving to themselves they crave metaphysical pleasure more than the physical release.

You may also balance will with consequence of pain if your submissive is bratty or masochistic in a way. Telling them that if they slip over the edge they will be punished, even tortured. Without knowing exactly what it is they may fight harder to stay on the edge. They edge spectacularly for you, but eventually crumble under the self inflicted stimuli, they cum and you deliver the next stimuli- maybe you simply force their hand to hold the vibrator against them, turning teasing play into overstimulation, or turn them over to spank them.

The third thing that must be done is to manage the environment we are in to best suit the play we will have. The space we are in should be constructed to do as much of the heavy lifting in our communication of the tone of the experience, and the desires of our counterpart, that we can. For example, an environment that is clean and bare suggests that nothing else will be happening in this space but what the two of you create. This type of room seems fitted to a private submissive who cherishes time and quiet exploration, and will become stressed or distracted by a number of other stimuli. A single sash and short rope laying on the couch suggests light bondage will be involved. A kind of quiet in the room implies that no one will be interrupting their play. They can take all the time in the world. On the other hand, a hot kitchen that is just a few steps from a noisy living room full of friends can generate a whole new tone. One of desperate craving for your counterpart, a contrast between the necessitated quietness of your actions and the noise and business of the space, a daring display of desire as you two risk discovery of your intimate acts with even the smallest allowances of expression- such as slipping your hand under their shirt and scratching up then down their back. If they let out a noise, they could be discovered. If someone walks in, they'll have to act like they haven't been delightfully toyed with for who knows how long, or the two of you might have to talk your way out of it. (Bonus points by the way if you pretend to be casually doing something else while your sub enjoys the predicament you're creating) Suddenly a kitchen becomes an environment perfect for sadomasochism and borderline exhibitionism. A room were will, time and space are used to holistically create a tease.

Finally, words and tone should be used to highlight the teasing. Drawing on the hope of the situation, highlighting what prevents them from indulgence, seems like the most fundamental approach to using our words to tease. Even in a relatively SFW tease with a short sub that is into strength kink, and having her height used against her. You could hold a stuffed animal out of her reach, she'd enjoy her feeble attempts at trying to snatch it away from you. Highlighting this exchange with your words would likely be welcomed. "Oh come on, hun. You have to be stronger than that. Maybe get up on your tip toes and reach for it. Haha. You're using both of your arms. Can't you pull harder? To end this form of play you could simply hand it to her, or let her gain some ground and take it from you before you transition to another fun game.

In summary, the best general approach to teasing someone is by fully utilizing the knowledge we have of their desires and drives, selection and use of proper abstract and practical blocks to that desire formatted to what degree they like to be pushed in their comfort levels or have their impulses blocked, that balance hope and the knowledge they will likely not succeed should then be traced with our words. All of which is bounded within trust and care for their overall well-being.

Bonus examples

1. The Kiss

I grasp her face with both my hands, knowing this makes her feel desired. My eyes meet hers and she knows this will be no little kiss. She shuts her eyes. I use her favorite kiss, placing the softest kiss I can on her waiting lips. She lets out a little shiver. She pushes into me gently, and I pull away just enough to keep our kisses feathered. I kiss down her jaw line, moving my face nearer to her ear and whisper a command to stay perfectly still as I let her go. I pace around her once, gently caressing, with one finger, places that catch my eye, her sensitive jaw line and clavicle, along her lower spine. I slip a finger into her waist band and slide across a few inches. Then I tug her by her waist band to me. I catch her by her shoulder and steady her, placing my hand on her jaw I pull her in for another kiss. I praise her for keeping her eyes shut. What a good girl she is. While I caress her cheeks and brush her hair away from her face, kissing her cheeks and forehead as I do this. I ask “are you going to continue to be a good girl for me? She breathes out a hot “yes” , “Look up”, I command. I place my hand on her neck and pull her into a deep kiss- gently moaning into her lips. I push her off and again praise her for being so obedient, so compliant. Praising her plump lips. I bring her back this time for gentle kisses. This proceeds until they become more insistent again, my grip on her neck tightens ever so slightly and she kisses me more intensely. I push her off and tell her soft kisses now. We return. She does so well at first. It’s not but a minute or two before she starts to get more intense though, whining and squirming into me trying to kiss me more deeply. Now I begin to pull slightly away each time the kiss becomes to firm. Leading her in a chase. Backing myself slowly into the corner she has lost track of. I push her off of me and say “You will kiss me gently. Yes, baby?” “Yes. Please” “Good girl. Now kiss me”, she goes to lean into me, but realizes my strong arm will no longer let her. She fights my strength, choking herself in my grip- I’m careful to keep my palm away from her trachea. I see her hunger flicker to desperation- I tell her to open. Her eyes snap open and I see her pupils constrict as they focus in the light and on me. As soon as she opens her eyes I grab her shoulder with other hand and pivot my hips, stepping forward and slinging her to my former spot as I switch places with her- now she is in the corner and I say, leaning in to just outside of her necks reach “oh, come on, baby. I thought you wanted to kiss me?” I feel her hot breath on my lips. “I do, please” I extend my arm again. “Prove it” she pushes again. Hungry eyes on mine. I watch her expression waiting for the slightest break in arousal, a second or two later I allow my arm to bend and let her come to me. It’s her turn now to lead. I grab her rib cage and let her press her lips into mine as she please. My hands caress her sides as she spins, pushing me into the corner. I match her passion and rhythm. She presses her body into mine, squirming against me as she places kisses on my lips, fevered and then soft and then heavy again. When she seems to be fading in decision, I slowly spin her back into the corner. My forearm framing her face on one side, my palm on her cheek, my fingers in her hair, and my extended arm on the other side boxing her in. I place soft kisses on her flushed skin and proceed to praise her and hold her gently.

2. Bonus example two. Referencing paragraph six. — Once we have this information of preferences and possible obstructions of it we can begin to synthesize it into possible modes of, and tools for, play for long or short term. For instance, using the above examples we can put together a possible play session that involves lots of skin to skin contact, unbroken kisses and maybe a pushing of minor, but prolonged pain to be a style this counterpart would enjoy. Such as having your sub straddle you, so your legs are touching theirs, putting your hand under their jaw, you drawing them in by it, using slow, soft kisses, but putting a teasing parameter on the kiss of a moderate painful stimuli, like slowly twisting the sensitive flesh on their ribs as long as they kiss you. They get a small dose of pain that they enjoy, lots of kisses and lots of skin to skin contact- both of which they adore. The pain they enjoy mixes with all of their love languages and make a special thing happen in their mind while it acts as a form of a will tease. After they limit is reached one could return to normal kisses and start a form of aftercare.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Black Cloth and Star Systems- Fusion AU

Ao3,   MasterPost,  More of This AU

Legally speaking this is the second installment in my fusion au, and u should definitely read the first one!! but it is not necessary to understand this one.

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, (briefly) mentioned romantic Royality

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, minor insecurity (it is Logan after all), one (1) kiss, excessive cuddling, Virgil and the Logan/Virgil fusion both have monster-like traits (big teef, pointy ears, nocturnal eyes, etc.), the fusion is also agender because I said so, and seriously lots of flowery descriptions cuz I was really having a good time with this one. Oh, and lack of sleep/unhealthy sleep schedules, brief mention of paranoia (very very minor), and I think I accidentally implied that Virgil has ADHD but that’s par for the course. 

Word Count: 3,797

Logan stared at the ceiling of his room, tired eyes tracing over the patterns etched into it. They were irregular, scrawls and lines that bumped up from the plaster and stretched on and on. If he squinted, they could almost look like maps- charting and directing the reader across a very foreign land, and in addition the reader might not be good with following maps, which would explain why this one seemed so vague. Or maybe it wasn’t showing a place at all. Nowhere real, at the very least. 

Oh, what the fuck was he talking about. The ceiling was a goddamn ceiling, and Logan was exhausted.

Sleeping would be the ideal solution, and it was something he definitely wasn’t opposed to, but by this point it was borderline impossible. Logan could shut his eyes, but he knew all he’d see would be that blinding flash of pink light. He could try and try to relax beneath his blanket, but still he would see double-set of eyes, swirling between emerald green and cinnamon brown, set behind big cutesy-framed glasses. He’d picture those two pairs of arms, that staggering display of height, and the body that was decorated with gold and crimson and sky-blue. 

What he was seeing was beyond understanding, and it was all that he could think about. His friends had fused. Patton and Roman, out of pretty much nowhere, had become one being right before everyone’s eyes. One burly, talkative, and endlessly fascinating being.

Like any person who persistently sought knowledge, Logan had taken to investigating the new creature at once. He’d had questions, burning questions, but Patron- as he’d named himself- had requested some alone time in his new form. It was a perfectly reasonable ask, so Logan resolved to postpone his interviewing until Patron was ready. But then, just as he was looking forward to finding out more about him that next morning, he was back to being two sides. Two sickeningly sweet sides who were way too caught up in their new relationship to answer any of Logan’s questions copacetically (All their answers had been full of purple prose, talking about how fusing was just the most amazing thing, and providing no real insight into it at all). 

Logan, presented with bizarre occurrences and offered no explanation, was understandably restless, abuzz with curiosity, and frustrated. And, if he was being honest, he was interested in the topic beyond what could be considered objective study, as well.

Very interested, in fact. He found himself wondering that… perhaps… Was he also capable of fusion?

Yes, the best way to learn about it would be to experience first-hand, so that would solve that problem. But that was hardly Logan’s entire reason for wanting to try it; Patton had soundly reported that forming Patron helped his and Roman’s communication by miles. Specifically vis a vis their more affectionate emotions, which really ended up being the thesis of the whole ordeal. It was, fundamentally, a very affectionate thing. 

Logan sat up abruptly, shooting a glare at his door from across the room. This was getting ridiculous; it would be a horrible idea to try something as significant as fusing with so little information on it. Just because it seemed self-explanatory didn’t mean that it was, and the results could be unstable and catastrophic!

But. 

But it wouldn’t be. There was the side he knew- the side he trusted- well enough to believe that it wouldn’t really go so awry.

Logan was making excuses.

What was there to be explained verbally that wouldn’t be much easier to just experience? Patron had proved two things: 1, fusing could happen, and 2, fusing could un-happen without issue. Any of the specifics would be figured out best by firsthand experience, that was pretty evident.

So Logan was making a few excuses, and maybe he was a bit scared about the whole thing, but so what? It was a moot point anyway, because Virgil would never want to participate in it, anyway. The idea of fusion would only upset the anxious side, maybe send him spiraling, and that was the last thing Logan wanted. 

With a groan, Logan flopped back down onto his bed, resuming his studious observation of the popcorn-patterned ceiling.

… 

Yeah, it wasn’t working.

Logan dragged himself up yet again, flinging the covers off of his legs harshly. He sat, immobile, glaring down just past the foot of his bed for an uncertain amount of time. He then heaved a very over dramatic sigh, kicked his legs over the side of his mattress, and stood. He set his feet down as though the carpet had personally wronged him, trodding across the room and throwing his door open with the same temperament. 

 The hallway was pitch dark, but Logan barely noticed it. He made his way down the stairs, the map of the Mindpalace splaying out in his head and directing him as well as light would. As soon as he hit the bottom of the stairs, his (moody) stomping ceased, for the time being. He tipped his head to one side, confused, as he listened out. 

There was a perfect silence.

An abrupt perfect silence. The very specific type of quiet that was too clearly manufactured. Such a- a tense hush could only be brought about by someone deliberately holding their breath. 

Logan shuffled his feet, peering into the blackness. Something shifted over by the couch, and the gleam of two reflectively-paneled eyes made themselves apparent. Logan yelped in fright, stumbling over his legs and bumping his back into the wall. 

There was a thump from across the room, a curse of ‘oh, shit’, and another shimmer from those eyes, animalistic and narrow. 

“Logan?” A gravelly voice asked, “Is that you?”

Logan blinked, staring at the dark silhouette that had come to stand before him. Animalistic, perhaps, but very very tall, and very very person-shaped. 

“Virgil?”

A lamp clicked on, washing the room in low and orange light, revealing that the creature was indeed Virgil. He looked considerably more human, now that he could be seen past his imposing outline- and he also looked more tired. 

Somehow, despite all of the other oddities in their situation, Logan found himself preoccupied by the smallest detail.

“Your eyes, Dear,” he drew forward for a closer look,  “How haven’t I noticed? They’re reflective!”

Virgil shrugged impassively, leaning down to let Logan hold his head and examine the unusual feature. 

“You can’t really tell unless it’s very dark out, or if you know what you’re looking for. I guess it just never came up.”

“But you can see in the dark, then?” Logan asked, perfectly aware that he sounded more than a little awed. Virgil just snorted, looking endeared. 

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’, “Is it that big of a surprise?”

Logan turned the question over in his mind, but after a moment he shook his head, no. Virgil already had a multitude of unique attributes- his fangs, his claws, and a few more distinct things that only appeared when he got particularly stressed. (All of the sides had traits like those, actually. Of them, Logan was certainly the most average- the only discrepancy had to be his slightly exaggerated proportions, and even that couldn’t compare to some of the others’.)

Virgil hummed vacantly, shifting his weight a few times over. He kneaded his shoulder, glancing down at Logan with sudden interest. 

“So, what’s up with you? It’s like, three in the morning.” 

Logan stiffened, but tried to disguise the worry. 

“I could ask you the same question,” he deflected, ineffectively. Virgil only smirked in response. 

“I mean, I guess you could: paranoia, pent up energy, general inability to focus- you know, the stuff that keeps me up every night. You, though,” Virgil hovered over him, making him tilt his head back to keep eye-contact with their height difference. Logan felt his face flush, though it was only partially due to embarrassment. “You don’t stay up late, L, like ever.”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot,” he once more evaded. 

“You’re always thinking,” Virgil responded with a laugh, but he stood up straighter and gave Logan his space. Logan glanced up, confused, only to get a shrug by way of reply. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, babe. I’m not gonna, like, interrogate you. I just… wanna make sure you’re okay, is all.”

“Oh,” he smiled, “Yes, I am. Thank you.”

Virgil gestured to the couch, returning the smile.

“Wanna stay up with me? Might help you get your mind off whatever it’s on.”

Logan relaxed at that, nodding a bit sleepily as he followed his partner to the sofa. 

Virgil’s arm was twined around Logan’s waist, holding him into the taller trait’s side as they sat comfortably on the couch. In the near pitch dark, Virgil’s laptop was propped up against the coffee table, the screen lit up by slightly unnerving YouTube animations. 

Truth be told, though, Logan had paid attention to exactly none of them. He had a few reasons for this: one, he was very sleepy. Two, Virgil was warm- much warmer than himself, as Logan had always had strangely cold skin, and the heat was calming. And three, he was still caught up in his own thoughts, albeit less frantic and frightened versions of them by this point.

He knew that Virgil could easily sense his anxiety, but still, Anxiety did not pry. Add that to the many-paged list of reasons why Logan appreciated him as much as he did. 

Appreciate him he did, yes, and he also- he trusted him. Completely. To such a degree that, in the serene partial-silence between the couple, Logan found himself wondering what would happen if he just… told Virgil? If he explained what was on his mind, would it really upset him as much as he feared? The idea of fusing, well, just talking about it couldn’t be too much of a disaster. They were too strong, too stable for that.

“Virge?” Logan didn’t turn to look at him as he spoke. The name was really just a murmur on his lips, uttered noncommittally and with the hope that it might just go unheard.

With a soft click, the video paused, and Virgil shifted. 

“Yeah?”

Oh. He was really doing this.

“Could I ask you about something?” Logan would’ve left it at that, but feeling Virgil tense up beside him, he hurried to elaborate: “It’s nothing bad, my love, I just- it’s what’s been worrying me, this evening.”

“Uh- ask away, I guess..”

Logan took a deep breath, feeling his heart rate increase concerningly. He was thankful for the lack of light in the room; if the embarrassed heat spreading across his face was any indication, he likely looked just as nervous as he felt.

He exhaled, trying to focus on Virgil’s arm around him instead of the worries. Everything would be alright.

“You remember when Patton and Roman fused, I trust?”

There was an almost subtle intake of breath from Virgil. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t about to forget something like that, L.”

“Right, of course,” Logan found Virgil’s hand and wound their fingers together, fiddling with them. “I just wanted to know your thoughts on the situation.”

There was a beat.

“Um. I’m just relieved that they could get back to normal, I guess. I was sorta worried they’d get stuck- which doesn’t make a lot of sense in hindsight, but with how clingy they both are, I mean…” 

Logan hummed, encouraging him to go on, despite the intelligent side’s swiftly fading hope.

“But, like, now that I know they’re okay, I guess it’s not really any of my business?” Hesitation laced Virgil’s voice, as though he wasn’t sure what he was meant to say. “Other than that, though, I just think it’s kind of weird. Like, the whole idea of it. Fusion.”

“‘Weird’ in a negative sense?”

“I don’t know, man,” Virgil huffed, “I mean, I’m not a big fan of cartoons but- it’s weird like it’s interesting, weird like I wanna know more. If that makes any sense.”

Oh. That was promising.

“It does make sense,” Logan whispered, desperately emphatic. The glow of Virgil’s eyes turned to him, wide enough that they looked like little full moons.

“Did you-” he stopped short. Inhaled sharply. Then asked it all in a rush: “Are you asking because you wanted to try it? With me?”

Logan stayed silent, gripping too-tight to his boyfriend’s hand. He sounded… surprised? But maybe not upset? 

Oh, who was he kidding, he’d never been able to read tones, really, and it was too dark to try and figure out Virgil’s body language. He’d just have to go blind on this one.

“Yes,” Logan blurted, immediately holding his breath for a response.

Virgil was as stiff as a board. His hand was frozen in place, his gaze boring into Logan. 

“Are you sure?” 

His tone was soft, sweet, and so so careful. Logic blinked. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Virgil, but he knew that it wasn’t something so… gentle.

“I- maybe? It’s not necessary, if you don’t think you’d be comfortable with-”

“That’s not what I was asking,” Virgil interjected, “I wanna know if you’re sure that you want this, not how you think I feel.”

Logan mumbled an apology, feeling oddly chastised. He collected his thoughts and tried again.

“Yes, I’m sure. I- I trust you, Virgil.”

Virgil relaxed considerably, his head dropping to rest in Logan’s hair. 

“Okay. Good.”

And with that, he went quiet again. The show was not unpaused, though. Logan wondered if he was meant to say something, and if so he wondered what it was. But in the end he couldn’t make any sound at all.

Virgil’s hand slipped out of his, instead moving to the back of his neck. Logan instinctively leaned forward with its direction, letting himself be held close. In turn, he wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, turning sideways into him. He was close enough now to hear the beat of the anxious side’s heart, which was always rather quicker than anyone else's. This time, though, it was like a hummingbird’s, hammering loud and excited.

Logan tilted his head (as much as he could) in confusion. Had the conversation somehow affected Virgil more than it first seemed? Was something about the situation that spiked his anxiety? But that didn’t add up, either, because his breathing was completely even, and he wouldn’t let anyone be this close to him if he really was panicking.

Before Logan could ask what- if anything- was wrong, Virgil nestled his face in his hair, holding him impossibly tighter. And at that point, they were pressed flush together head-to-toe. And that was what made it click. 

Oh, they were doing this now. This- this was Virgil’s way of attempting- 

Logan hooked his ankle around Virgil’s, clumsily attempting to reciprocate the- erm, the Thing That They Were Trying. Heat rose in his cheeks at even the thought of it. 

What was he supposed to do? Was there some way to activate it? Was it enough to simply touch, or was movement required to fuse? What if they couldn’t get it to work at all? That would make plenty of sense, Logan was logic and what was the possibility that he’d follow the same rules as, say, Roman-

“Hey.”

Logan glanced up, his neck straining at the angle. Virgil was gazing down at him, pupils expanded with fondness, his fingers easing through the hairs at the back of Logan’s neck.

“Calm down, okay?” 

Logan might have commented on the irony of that, but Virgil was leaning forward and pressing their lips together oh-so gently, and all his thoughts flew out of the proverbial window as he kissed back. 

It was soft, light, maybe a little clumsy. The touch was barely-there, really, just ghosting. And then it wasn’t there, at all. The feeling faded, as did so many others, but neither of them were moving apart- or at least, they didn’t think that they were. If anything, they seemed to be getting closer, and closer, but-

Closer to what, exactly?

They opened their eyes. Wait, no, they blinked a couple of times- ah, there, they opened all- five?- of their eyes. Not only was it no longer pitch black, but it seemed that lights had been conjured above them, dozens of tiny purple and blue tea lights that cast the living room in a pleasant glow.

Had- had they caused that? Somehow?

Conjuring on accident- how did they manage that? And what else could they do? What couldn’t they do, though, in this new form? Something like them was bound to have limitations.

They stood up sharply, and immediately cracked their head against the ceiling. They yelped in pain, silently amending that standing up straight while indoors was the first limitation to note. They hunched over, managing to keep upright if they just bent their knees and tilted their neck. And that brought on a much more important investigation into themself: their new physical form.

They were obviously very tall, but also sort of- long in general? Their limbs, their fingers, their face, every feature was very narrow, almost spider-like. And, on the topic of spider-like limbs, they had two sets of arms; one in the usual place, but another placed behind that, curving around from just under their shoulder blades. In addition, their fingers, lithe and spindly, were six on each hand. Despite the unordinary length to many of their appendages, though, they were still noticeably muscular. Wide shoulders, a defined abdomen, and sturdy legs.

With a sharp wave of their hand, they conjured a full-body mirror to hang in front of them, promptly leaning over to examine themself.

Their face was made of edges; sharp cheekbones, pointed ears, and blocky glasses that covered all of their eyes but the middle one. They ran their fingers through their shaggy, curled up hair- a good deal of which fluffed forwards past their forehead and into their face. It was mixed colors, swirls of purple and blue blending together in soft, bouncy locks. 

They had interesting features aplenty, but one thing stood out dramatically. One thing that drew their attention at once. 

The mouth.

Their lips were dark- almost black, with hints of color toned under it. They dragged a finger along it, but it didn’t wipe away like makeup. They opened their mouth, revealing long needles of teeth, dozens and dozens of them top and bottom- all except for the upper canines. Those were thick, overly large, and tinted with purple. They ended in dangerous looking points, shoving out past the new side’s lips even when they closed their mouth, appearing much like an arachnid's venomous mandibles. 

They took a step back from the mirror, experimentally poking their big fangs. To their surprise, the teeth moved; just a wiggle, but enough to show that they were mobile, that they could be flexed and retracted. Well, that was...

That was sick as hell.

Now, to investigate their outfit: they were a little monstrous, sure, but also very smartly dressed. They wore a navy blue plaid waistcoat, laid overtop of a pastel purple sweater, which in turn was beneath a plain, black, short-sleeved button-up shirt. Their tie was a simple white with subdued flecks of violet and sapphire, dotted to look intentionally asymmetrical. 

Their lower half also bore a layered aesthetic: sheer lavender leggings beneath strategically ripped black jeans. They also wore a short, tight skirt over it, the color and pattern matching that of their waistcoat. A few chains dangled from the belt loops on their hips, clinking a little as they moved. They had sleek black shoes with small platforms, something vaguely Demonia-style. Altogether, the look was a strange blend of elegant and alternative. Strange, but very, very, very… becoming, to say the least. 

They couldn’t help staring at themself. Actually, ogling might be the more accurate word. They were hot, was that vain to say? If it was, they didn’t particularly care, because it was true. Of all the things they could have been together, confident wasn’t expected, but it was more than welcome. Because- damn.

Five minutes of gawking at their own reflection wound up being enough, in the end, and they forced themself to wave the mirror back out of existence. There were so many more things to consider about themself, after all, and that just couldn’t wait any longer. There were infinite things to know, God, they were a new creature entirely.

It was… it was overwhelming. They had so many questions. They had so many concerns, millions of them, and millions of thoughts that didn’t fit into either of the aforementioned categories, thoughts that existed just to fill up space in a head that suddenly felt overpacked. Too many minds in such a reduced space.

It’s okay, they thought, sucking in a deep, slow breath, One at a time, Dear.

There’s too much. I can’t see it all. I can’t explain all of it.

Which half of them was that? Was it… both? Both of them, comforting and receiving comfort? What an impossible creation they’d become! Wait, no, they had to focus on calming down before they gave that any thought. 

We can’t get to all of it, they agreed with themself, Some of it, though, certainly.

Like what?

They thought for a moment.

We could start with a name?

Oh. That’s probably important.

Yes, just a bit. 

They let their breath out in a laugh, pulling their sleeves past their hands and curling their fingers in the fabric. It took only a second of contemplation before, quite promptly, they knew what they were going to be called from now on. They knew their name, and everything else began to click into place from there.

Livril.

They sighed, contented, and sat back into the corner of the sectional. They didn’t exactly fit, curling up on the couch as they had before, but they were easily flexible enough to find a way. Now that they knew their name, they could really start learning who exactly Livril was.

There was so much they could learn from this, so many things they could enjoy this way. What music did they like? (Probably sad. Most certainly folk punk.) How did they speak? (sharply, they would guess.) How did they move? (Quick, startling, definitely fidgety.)

And that was hardly all, though it was a good start. There was so much more to get to, and they intended to answer all of it as soon as possible.

...But that ‘as soon as possible’ would probably be in the morning, because Livril fell asleep exactly two minutes after their head hit the couch cushion.

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob 

[elizabeth-234]

The Supplejack

Previous Chapter Sixteen: Civil War 

Summary so far from previous chapter: Here's a summary of the previous chapter: Peter goes to upstate New York with his team plus Flash and Ned. They all have fun with some heart to heart conversations about the disaster that was the end of their project because of the trip to Oscorp. It's summer with two weeks back to school. Peter reflects on what happened with Mr. Stark with much angst and sadness. He's also working himself too hard with two jobs, one at a coffee shop and the other at a radio supply store called Barry's. It is there that Peter finds himself watching the news as Civil War happens. Close footage of the event is released and the world watches as two superheroes battle it out. Peter stumbles home and calls Mr. Stark to make sure he's okay only to get a voicemail. He doesn't leave a message. 

Chapter Seventeen: Reflection and Realizations 

Peter always felt at odds with the world. From his youth – the time waking up alone in the hospital and going through middle school with laughter following at his back – left the impression of permanent displacement. The uncomfortable foreignness he sometimes felt inside his own skin was nothing new. Peter’s preference for a quiet room over something loud was strange to people. Sam Carlson called him a freak and at the time Peter cried. When no one stood up for him he believed it was true. What else would explain the differences between him and everyone else?

At home, his family knew and loved his differences. Ben wore his varsity jacket with pride. Peter would run up to him and beg to wear it, loving how the plush leather draped around his shoulders. Hoping one day he could wear his own like Ben. Peter could remember Ben’s excited ramblings. All the plans he made for Peter - with Peter. When he fell short of those dreams, Ben still loved him.

Ben took him to ice cream outings after spelling bees and pushing Peter to believe in himself no matter what. He showed Peter that sometimes, with special people, those differences weren’t considered bad but unique. Like his quirks were interesting instead of outlandish.

With the anniversary of Ben’s death approaching at the end of the week and now Germany, the differences felt like too much. His skin itched. He wanted to destroy his phone and hide under the blankets in his room. He also wanted to plop himself down in front of five monitors and make sure he didn’t miss anything.

It was a week since Germany. Seven days of news stations repeating words and phrases over and over again. Their pantomime words were pointless and flat but Peter couldn’t do anything but watch them. He had to make sure there wasn’t a speck of information missed. What if new injuries came to light? What if, after the bloody fight there was more violence and fear? The smallest word could incite the people of New York and the world to shift to a strange unease. To look at their heroes as lesser because of an in-house fight. Would they be wrong do so? So, hours of the tv he watched.

Today, though was different. He climbed out of bed to drag himself to the couch in their living room. It was still pushed to the side of the wall so May could roll her yoga mat out in the middle of the room so he had to sit at the end and crane his neck to see.

Peter yawned and stretched his back before turning on the tv. Both hope and dread tangled in his stomach as he waited to see if anything new happened while he was asleep. The first thing he noticed was the absence of colors. There was no red and gold; no red, white, and blue either. Instead a story played about a new workout fad on the morning show. Both hosts tried to squat in heels and a tight suit and all Peter could do was watch in disbelief.

He moved to the edge of the couch, digging his hands into the sides of the cushions. Peter switched the channels back and forth but …  there was nothing. Not a single story on the Avengers.

The day passed in a blur after that. Peter sat in the back of Barry’s listening to the radio as he worked. The Yaesu FT – 891 sat exposed in front of him on the table. Gears and widgets crowded the small paneling of the front.

Still no word about it on the radio. Iron Man, Captain America, The Avengers. Nothing.

It was incomprehensible. How had the world already moved on? The arguably largest powers of the world clashed in epic proportions and a week later no one cared. Everyone else was getting back to normal.

Peter’s whole world had changed. Maybe in minuscule terms but at a fundamental level. If this was what it meant to be at odds with the world then maybe it was a good thing. If he could remember, keep those relentless attacks and trembling fists in mind, then maybe it was worth it.

Before their upstate getaway. Peter scowled at the news. He hated how these strangers gossiped and mongered any information they had about Mr. Stark. Chest heaving from running. Peter watched from the side of the street as Iron Man was on the tv. Mr. Stark wearing his superhero persona complete with the large glasses and faux smile. When the woman who walked up beside him asked him who the man really was he was blindsided. Who else would he be besides Iron Man?

Peter didn’t understand at the time.

It was when he saw Mr. Stark, when Iron Man had fallen to the ground. Blood stained the red metal dripping onto the concrete underneath him. Peter realized he was as bad as the people in the hallway of the Tower like the man who spilled coffee on himself as their boss walked by all those months ago. He was the one staring at the man from behind glass – through a pair of Mr. Stark’s rose tinted glasses.

All those months he’d spent in knots because “it was Iron Man, after all.” Isn’t that what he thought before his presentation? All those dinners and movie nights with the man and Peter never viewed him as a person.

He was Iron Man.

But he was also Tony Stark.

Peter had never crossed that bridge or made the connection until now. His stomach churned at how long he’d willfully been ignorant.

Mr. Stark was a real human being made of flesh and blood. Not someone who didn’t care if their ‘past indiscretions’ were picked apart on the regular. Not a figurehead of a huge company or a symbol to the people. He was arrogant and flawed and … a kind person.

He was someone who fed Peter his favorite orders and watched boring school movies with him. He worried that Peter would get home safely ever time. He reached out to Peter, lifted him up, and all those months he worked with Peter. Mentored him as softly as he could when Peter was in no state to receive help.

It was like his eyes were opening after a long sleep.

When Ben passed it tore something out of Peter. He closed himself off from people. The hurt of him leaving left a bitter knot in Peter. One he never wanted to feel again. A hurt he would do anything to make sure he didn’t feel it again. The pain in his chest, squeezing and weighing heavy until he couldn’t breathe followed him for months

In the anguish, the solution became about connection. It was his connection that hurt, their love that was leaving this pain in Peter long after Ben was gone. If it wasn’t for that, maybe he wouldn’t be hurting as much. If, Peter had kept a distance, maybe Ben would still be alive. So, he turned his life was on autopilot. Didn’t allow himself to get attached to anyone and he was alone. He was getting by. It was all the better for it, he told himself.

Then the S.T.A.R.K. posters took over Midtown and something changed. A small spark ignited, just barely smoldering, but aflame all the same. Peter wanted to participate. He wanted to win. For the first time in a long time, he battled his insecurities and wrote his name on the paper outside the school office. Fingers trembled against the concrete wall but looking back on it now, it was the first step to reaching out and making a new connection, though at the time he didn’t see it that way.

His back still hurt from the hours spent hunched over at his desk scribbling in notebooks and testing materials. The knot in his stomach urged him to find a better solution. The recipe needed tweaking and the equation needed changing to make it the best. If he could find the right formula then maybe he could help someone. Maybe, the words taunted him, he could’ve saved Ben.

It was a lifeline just out of his reach. Peter struggled and grappled to grab hold and pull himself up even after hearing Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark spoke about him as he hid behind the plants. Not after the tour and the internship began could he breath again.

Not until the lab. The quiet moments in lab two were like the first relief of that pressure. The first quiet after the storm. Working next to Mr. Stark he found the ability to breathe again. Just for a few hours he could be present in himself, not feel the uncomfortable itch of being in his own skin, and just be. Only now did he realize he was sitting in the eye of the storm while the winds raged around him, waiting to move away and sink him into their tempest clouds.  

Mr. Stark made effort after effort to reach him. He asked about May and with genuine interest asked about school and life. Peter’s face turned hot as he remembered the glass of water and medicine waiting for him on the nightstand when he insisted on going to the tower when he was ill.

Why hadn’t he realized before?

Maybe it was because of Ben and his parents. Maybe Peter was scared to lose someone again. He didn’t want to ever put on a black, ill-fitting suit and hear the flat, kind words that never really captured what was special about a person again.

The man tried to show him but Peter wasn’t in a place to receive.

And that made the ache in his chest throb all the more.

There was nothing more he wished than to be thrown that rope again but it was gone now, pulled back to the safety of the boat while Peter was just now realizing he was lost at sea.

The why wasn’t important. It didn’t matter what Mr. Stark was getting out of it. It didn’t matter why he picked Peter or that he used him in whatever was happening with Oscorp. All of that stung but it didn’t negate the real moments when Mr. Stark became someone he could look up to. Someone he could look to for help.

What mattered was he showed Peter who he was underneath the larger than life image. Mr. Stark was a man who hadn’t noticed the view from his obnoxiously large tower until Peter pointed it out. He was the one who burned frozen pizza but new how to build rockets and whatever else his imagination dreamed up.

He had faults but he was trying.

Mr. Stark was a man Peter would never know further.

Again, his world changed without really changing at all. The subtle self-awareness became sharper and he could see, could finally admit what he wanted.

He wanted to visit with Julia and collaborate again, study together like friends. He wanted to hang out with Ned and Flash and just laugh without feeling so damn guilty. Peter wanted to go back to the Tower and spend his afternoons working on projects. Watch movies and make frozen pizza, not burned preferably. He thought of his promise to May, the feel of her arms impossibly strong around him and their words whispered together. He had thought he’d meant it when he said he would try for himself and her.

Now, though, he knew it was more of a child’s promise. Something said without much thought to how to progress.

“I want you to start taking care of yourself and loving yourself. I know it’s not easy and it downright sucks most of the time but can you try to do that?” May had said.

Had he tried?  Did he make any progress this summer?

At first, he worked himself to the bone. Tired from waking up and going to bed from school, Barry’s, and The Bitter End. There was purposefully no room to think and reflect, which was how Peter wanted it. While self-reflection was one of his strong suits, it was also a downfall. He would get trapped in these endless cycles of overthinking and doubting himself.

But it wasn’t sustainable. He was only one, arguably asocial, individual. It was too much at all hours of the day. His time at The Bitter End came to just that with loud shouting from Cindy and a year ban from the store. Peter wasn’t sure if the latter was a joke or not.

Working one job with school so far was working. Barry was a low maintenance boss and if he stayed on top of homework, school wasn’t too bad. Still, he missed going to the Tower after school. Working collaboratively with his team and spending time there after.

Peter sighed, rubbing his chest absentmindedly before shutting the radio off and leaning back in his chair.

How could the world move on so quick? How, after everything the Avengers did for them, could they just talk about workouts and other mundane things?

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. His thumb hovered over the enter button as he watched the blinking light highlight Mr. Stark’s number.

“Damn.” He said under his breath and closed the phone again. After that last time, he didn’t have the courage to call the number again or leave a voicemail.

Peter sank forward. His head rested into the curve of his elbows on the desk as he thought of what he should do next.

-

Despite his adversity to it, change came into his life whether he wanted it or not. Uncaring at the best of times and brutal at the worst.

Ned stood beside him and a glazed over Flash to the other side. The former was rambling on about a last-minute vacation he took with his parents to Toronto, while the latter didn’t even attempt to be impressed.  

“- and there’s this little town where they perform all these plays every year. We saw A Midsummer Night's Dream and boy was that way hornier than I thought.” 


“Well, if that isn’t fascinating but some of us have to get to class.”


“Don’t act all high and mighty, Flash. We’re in the same first period as you, dude.” Ned winked at Peter.

Flash was still Flash but he’d become less rough as time wore on. Ned seemed to have that effect on people, Julia too. Flash would gripe and grumble but to Peter, he seemed happier now than their freshman year. He wondered if maybe Flash had wanted a fresh start in high school as much as him. Peter grinned at him and rolled his eyes in good nature with Flash as Ned continued giving them a rundown of the play.

He looked around at the other students comparing schedules and groaning over their new teachers. A group of short students walked by them. Peter froze at their height difference. Was he that short last year? It felt weird but good to see how much he’d grown. They were no longer the small fish on campus. He grinned.

Peter followed Flash and Ned to their English first period. As luck, or not, would have it Mrs. Brzozowski was teaching their class again. Her scowl spoke volumes for how she felt about her schedule change.

He groaned along with the rest of the class when they received their assigned seating. Setting his backpack under his seat, Peter took a seat by the window and managed not to gloat at the good spot. Middle back and next to the window. Plenty of fodder for daydreams, though he suspects their novels will keep him engaged through the year. He missed Austen but was excited to read some American Literature this year.

By the time he made it home, Peter’s head was pounding. Lunch was thankfully quiet because he managed to find a spot in the library. Ned visited him before he was off to greet Midge and everyone. Peter sat in relative silence thinking over his peanut butter and jelly made from the heels of the bread (he’d have to get some more after work) about the school year ahead and the one he left behind last June. All the while he resisted the urge to look at his phone notifications.

Peter knew that he wouldn’t find anything there.

Tomorrow he could go and eat with everyone, Peter decided. By then the first day jitters would subside, at least a bit, and it would be nice to see Midge and Jaimik again. Not so much to hear about Mike’s latest antics.

As was his routine after work and homework, Peter climbed into bed adjusting his t-shirt from clinging to his back and curled up under the covers. After much tossing and turning and entirely too much thinking, he fell asleep.

Peter woke in a sweat clawing at his chest. The sweat soaked his shirt making it damp to the touch. His chest heaved from the great pressure threatening to explode out. His hands trembled and he threw them in front of him. There was no blood. He wasn’t bleeding. He wasn’t the rabbit or being torn apart as his subconscious wanted him to believe.

Peter couldn’t stop the ragged breathes. He tried to concentrate on his heart but it burned in his chest, the raging rhythm seemed to take over his body, pulsing in his head and stomach. Blindly, Peter reached out and pulled the notebook from the crevice of his bed and wall.  

Sometimes he would read through them but today he hugged them close to his chest. His fingers traced the indents and now fraying page ends until he could finally breath deep and steady.

It was only then in the still and dusk of not quite morning that Peter realized he was crying.

Thank you for reading.

Next Chapter Eighteen: Existing 

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer III: Fathers and Sons

(A/N If you haven’t played the story past level 83 ish, you might want to do that and come back here.)

In the smoky ruin of the painting hall, Chisei Gen walked in. That royal dragonblood saved his life once again, beginning to heal him as soon as he was injured. In his hospital bed, his mind reeled with questions. The words of that girl Carli, and most of all her actions, her emotions.

He’d tried to kill her. He condemned her. Still, she fought for him, pleaded with him, and compared herself to him. 

He looked up at the paintings, ruined by heat, fire and smoke. Irreparable. Irreplaceable. He wasn’t alone. Tachibana stood behind him.

"Old man, isn't it finally time to explain some things to me?”

Tachibana wore an old military uniform. But it was not from Japan. He carried a longsword, a dagger and a blanket. “Actually, you have been doubting me for a long time, haven't you?”

Chisei turned to look at him, surprised at the statement. “You.”

Tachibana was aged but now he appeared more so. Fatigue deepened and darkened the lines on his face.

Chisei noted the faded armband on his left elbow. "You are..."

Tachibana, strode forward and tossed down the white blanket. "I was..."

He threw Chisei his long sword. Chisei caught it, somberly understanding what he was about to do. Tachibana knelt on the cloth, head bowed, placing the dagger unsheathed in front of him.

"Shouldn't I take the fall for you?” Chisei asked.

“Every day I thought that if the day came in which I would have to apologize for all my years of wrongdoing, then I would want the person pleading for me to be you.”

Chisei's eyes were unwavering, but they held a question. Chisei knelt on the hard floor before him. "Before you cut your belly, let me listen to your reasons.”

Tachibana closed his eyes in confession. “My real name is Bondarev. The Lenin was sunk miles deep by my own hand.”

Chisei’s jaw clenched. "Go on...”

Tachibana let out a long and wistful sigh. “This is a long story.”

“It's a fact that the Imperial Academy of Sciences has always been studying gene technology. They amassed the most outstanding biologists to analyze and compare ethnic genealogies from all over the world.”

“The clan hoped that with the use of their gene technology, we would find the way of evolution. Therefore, we collected gene specimens sent to them for study.”

“When they did, they discovered that a perfect gene is possible. But the study still had not achieved a breakthrough when the Great War broke out.”

“Among the armed forces, certain high ranking officials who knew of the secrets of the dragon clan sent a chief scientist named Herzog to the Arctic Circle to take over the project and the research continued.”

“In fact, I was the first product of those experiments. I grew up in an orphanage. After I grew, I found a confidential inquiry about a secret port in the Arctic Circle. Among the records, I found a list of names. Within that list was a group of children, listed only by their serial numbers.”

"The project was in fact using IVF technology to make hybrids.”

Chisei’s eyes flashed in outrage. “Where did they get dragon blood?!”

“The location of that port has both dragons and hybrids brought from all over the world. The person leading the project, Herzog, worked to extract the perfect genes from their bodies, and reused them to to create a new human race. He almost never let anyone leave that place. I was permitted to leave because Herzog wanted to test if his first product would have trouble integrating into society.”

"Does that port still exist?” Chisei asked.

Tachibana didn’t answer. “When I collected the information I needed, I decided to go back and assume a false identity: the king of the Romanov family, son of Anastasia. I came to protect the secrets of the dragon clan. I pretended to be Herzog's companion. I brought him a check for 200 million dollars. Only then was he willing to share dragon clan secrets with me.”

“What did you want from Herzog?”

Tachibana was incredulous at his son’s disinterest. “These were the secrets of the dragon clan! I really wanted to know those secrets! Who wouldn't be curious about that?!" He calmed himself, clearing his throat. “The experiments bore fruit. Two infants with a surprisingly high proportion of Dragon Blood but a blood system that was stable!”

“When Herzog saw this, he confessed his true goal. To create an unstoppable army of hybrids!”

“He's not trying to revive a dragon King! He's trying to be his own version of Nidhogg!” Chisei’s hands balled into fists.

“...And those two children were you and Chime.”

“What?!” Chisei sat back on his heels, eyes wide.

“Chime died young... you have not yet had any heirs. It appeared that... Herzog’s experiment might not be the solution he was searching for.”

“So imagine my despair, when a genealogical services company named Comemnus sent out a missive saying that they had found an S-Rank female hybrid with the same properties as yours! They were going to auction her off to the highest bidder!” Tachibana bared his teeth in fury.

“I couldn’t let that happen! I contacted them. But they refused to give me access to any information until I had handed over to them our genealogical data. Which... of course, I couldn’t provide. So I was shut out of the auction.”

He glanced away. “Herzog... I knew he would be participating. The man is relentless and is a client of Comemnus for decades. They worked together for generations. There was no way he would let an opportunity like this slip through his fingers.”

Chisei put one hand over his face. “Carli...”

“I couldn’t stop Herzog. That’s why I labeled her a Devil and sent you out to find her. And to kill her.”

“You lied to me!”

“I HAD TO!” Tachibana’s voice echoed in the cavern. “If Herzog got a hold of her... he could stamp out enough hybrids to conquer the world within a generation! So long as she’s alive the world is in peril!”

Tachibana was shaking with fury. “She’s the darling of Cassell College. I can’t attack her there. This second mission to Japan provided a unique opportunity. Do you understand now, why I went around you to make sure to leave her down in the damn trench!”

“This information involved the fundamental secrets of our clan. That’s why I couldn’t explain to you directly. But I just saw her getting closer... and closer to you. I had to do something.”

“You made me kill innocent people!” Chisei gritted his teeth in realization. “That operation to destroy her foster home to draw her out was not in pursuit of a Devil!” He pointed an accusing finger at him. “You told me the ends justified the means all under fals-”

“Understand this Chisei!” Tachibana’s voice took on the military tone of a commander. “This world has no future if Herzog has his way. So if you look down on me so be it! So long as there’s a world here for you to do it!”

- - - -------

Kaguya’s firewall was still in place.

After soaking in the hot spring for 30 minutes, I returned to bed, exhausted, sore, and listless. Johann was never far away. Every once in a while, he brought me tea.

Despite our best efforts, we were back where we started. The Takamagahara, hiding out, unable to escape.

Unable was the wrong word.

In theory, I could go whereever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I could close my eyes and make the jump back to Chicago. 

But to do that, would mean forever wondering if I had a family in Japan. Children who, whether I wanted them or not, were mine. It brought up all the memories I had of wondering who I was, imagining who my parents were, wondering where they were, wondering if they loved me.

I was so lucky to have Robbie. But I could not believe that my children were as lucky. Perhaps they would grow up warped, like Devils, or self-righteous, like Chisei...

“Do you think he’s alive?” I asked.

“Probably,” Johann replied. He was writing the report for me. “We’ve both survived similar injuries.”

I smiled. “Oh right...”

I was silent a while. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?” He asked.

“I want to get my kids out of here.”

“What about Mingfei.”

“Mingfei is gone.”

I heard the squeak of his chair and his soft steps as he walked up to me. “I wouldn’t give up on him.” He leaned over me. “He left Heavy Industries with that Uesugi girl. If we can find him, it might be possible to use her as a bargaining chip to get Tachibana to lift the barrier. We just have to find them.”

“Is it possible to... pass you lead?” I asked.

“You can do what you want?”

“I just... don’t feel like I can continue.”

“This has gotten pretty big... it’s gone beyond the original mission.”

“Okay.” I whispered.

He straightened and walked away. “I’ll note it in the record.”

[gaycrouton]

Times they did something which could be considered 'intimate' or something couples would do

Ten Times Mulder and Scully were intimate in their own unique way. UST. MSR.

Huge shout out to @admiralty-xfd for her beta and for helping me think of a good chunk of these.

I

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up the metal key he’d set on her desk. She already had a key to the office, she didn’t need another one. She flipped it over and saw on the other side, the word ‘SCULLY’ was written in black marker in Mulder’s signature scrawl.

“It’s a key to my apartment,” he responded. A permanent key to his apartment.

She felt a look of surprise pass over her face as she raised her gaze to look at him. “W-what’s it for?”

He looked at her for a moment, almost nervous, and for some reason it made her nervous. “Are you still available?” he asked. She was learning he was a bit of a flirt, but this was a little bold even for him. She’d just told him that she broke up with Ethan less than a month ago. She still kept forgetting he liked Iced Tea when it was her turn to run and get lunch. And now he was inviting her over for…?

“…For what?” she replied, tracing the ridges of the key with her thumb.

“Remember,” he started, sitting at his desk while maintaining eye contact with her. “You said you could feed my fish while I go to Pittsburgh this weekend.”

Memories of a sleepy agreement dawned on her and she felt embarrassed for jumping to conclusions. “Oh, yeah-sorry,” she laughed awkwardly, feeling blood rush to her face.

A surprised smile quirked his lips upwards as he caught sight of her blush. “Did you think-”

“No, no. I just forgot. I’m still available,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear him say it out loud.

“Thank you, do you remember the address?” he asked.

“Hegal Place in Alexandria, right?” she replied, diverting her attention to her work.

“2630 Hegal Place, apartment 42,” he replied with a nod, seemingly pleased she was right. “Scully,” he added, prompting her to look at him.

“Yes?” she replied, looking at him expectantly.

“Are you implying you wouldn’t be interested in becoming roommates?” he joked with a wink.

Now, a few days later as she stood in the middle of his apartment, the answer would have to be no.

This was, in every sense of the word, a bachelor pad. She’d fed the fish after searching for the food for a minute, and had spent the rest of the last ten minutes taking a self-guided tour. She didn’t want to invade his privacy…she was just curious.

A framed basketball jersey, an odd affinity for Aztecian home decor, a refrigerator filled with expired foods and liquids, it was so stereotypically ‘man cave’-y that she couldn’t help but smile. She could see the quirks she’d noticed in the office manifest here. Being in his apartment, in some odd way, felt like being with Mulder. His sunflower seeds were in a pile on his kitchen table, surrounded by… copies of The Lone Gunman? She hadn’t heard about that publication, but he seemed to have quite a collection.

Not only were the traces of Mulder activity present, but she could still smell his cologne around the apartment. She chastised herself for how oddly comforting the whole place was. Minus the fact his bedroom looked like a storage unit for miscellaneous crap rather than a place to sleep.

When she’d decided she’d intruded quite enough, she went into the living room to grab her purse off the table but got distracted by the bottom row of his bookshelf - which was filled with something that didn’t quite look like books.

Upon bending over, she was met with:

Night Trips

Nothing to Hide

Debbie Does Dallas

Latex

The Opening of Misty Beethoven

In the Office

Her mouth dropped open as her eyes widened at the collection. Oh my god…there were so many. She wasn’t disgusted or anything, it was natural he’d want to…stress relief, but surely-

Well, actually, they never actually brought up if he had anyone. It didn’t seem like he had a girlfriend, sometimes she could tell he was lonely. She still regretted teasing him with “Unlike you, Mulder, I would like to have a life.” It hurt his feelings and she could tell. But, he was an attractive man. There was no denying that. Surely if he wanted to…indulge himself…it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone who wanted to join. Even I-

She stood up quickly, breaking her own train of thought and shaking it from her mind. This is why you don’t intrude, Dana.

II

Usually she was pretty good at checking forecasts before they ran off to whatever part of the country Mulder dragged them to. This was not one of those occasions. She just didn’t realize how fucking cold it got in Indiana at night. It was only September. But heaven forbid Mulder warn her, he clearly knew to come prepared if his big warm jacket was any indication.

Mulder’d asked her several times if she was cold, but all it did was serve to piss her off more. They’d been snapping at each other since they got here and every little thing was just aggravating him. The flight was late, the witness stood them up, the police were treating them like jokes. He clearly was pissed off because he felt bad he’d dragged her there, and she was pissed off that he was acting like she was just following him around and that it wasn’t her assignment too or her choice to go there.

It was just a series of little things being blown out of proportion and it was even more frustrating being that they both could acknowledge they weren’t really mad at the other but they were too fucking stunted apparently to just apologize.

They’d been walking for a few blocks now, the 'three blocks over’ the sheriff had told them in reference to a diner was turning into fifteen, clearly either being wrong or a practical joke. Her jaw hurt from clenching so hard to keep her teeth from chattering. It was juvenile, but she didn’t want him to take her freezing as another lash of guilt to add to himself.

“Scully- he started.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she replied tersely as she stabbed her fingers against the 'walk’ button.

She drew her arms into her chest in an attempt to compartmentalize her warmth, and then suddenly she felt something warm and relieving drape around her shoulders. She looked over and saw he’d taken off his coat to give it to her with a look of contrition littering his face. “Listen, Scully. I’m sorry I’ve been short with you all day.”

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled them further in on herself, burying her face against it and internally reveling in the lingering scent of him still present. “I’m sorry too. I just don’t want you to think I’m some stray dog you brought along for the ride-”

“I’d never think of you that way,” he interrupted gently.

“Then stop saying you 'dragged me out here.’ I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to,” she told him earnestly.

“Thank you,” he replied softly, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to help warm her up as they walked across the street. “I guess I’m just a little embarrassed,” he shrugged.

“Don’t be, they just don’t understand you,” she comforted, feeling exponentially better in the warmth of him.

“Well,” he sighed, rubbing up and down her arm as she bumped into his side from walking so close. “At least you do.”

III

“Wait,” she called out, stopping him as he turned to part ways in the middle of the parking garage.

He turned back around wordlessly, waiting for her to continue, and was surprised to see that she seemed more shy than she’d just been a moment ago. She started fumbling around in her purse as she talked, and as much as it was probably to find whatever object she was looking for, he was equally suspicious that she was avoiding eye contact. “I, um. I just thought that, you know, since we’re in so many stressful situations all the time that it might be convenient for you to have this.”

As if punctuating that last word, she pulled out something small and silver and extended her hand out to him. He held his hand out and let her drop something metallic into his palm. When she pulled back, he saw it was a key and he felt oddly proud of this display of trust. “Is this to your apartment?”

She lowered her gaze and paid a slightly ridiculous amount of attention to zipping her purse. “Yeah, I just figured that if I have yours it’s only fair that you have mine.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, pulling his keyring out from his pocket and flipping them so that her key would be right next to his.

“But use it wisely, Mulder,” she warned lightheartedly. “This isn’t an invitation for you to bust into my apartment whenever you please.”

“You’re no fun,” he teased.

IV

Should he leave? Does she know he’s here?

They’d been investigating a lead at a church and he lost sight of her. When he caught up with her, he found her kneeling at a pew with her hands clasped in front of her. He could see her lips faintly moving and he suddenly felt like he’d intruded on something extremely intimate.

Yet he couldn’t look away. It was touching, seeing her in her element, and in this moment he felt like he got a taste of what it was like for her to work with him everyday.

He didn’t understand it; on a fundamental level this wholehearted trust in one being to have complete and utter control in your life seemed overwhelming. It was the very same thing he fought against everyday, he couldn’t imagine finding any comfort and solace in it.

But yet he respected it because it meant so much to her. To her it was the backbone of her being, a guide for all she did. And anything that meant so much to Scully was important.

4He was watching her perform this ritual with practiced grace. He felt like it might have been intrusive, but he watched her lips move with rapt fascination. He saw the word 'mom’, he saw 'Bill’, and then he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat.

Scully prayed for him.

V

“Mulder,” he states into the phone, only to be answered with dead silence for ten seconds. He adjusts the phone against his ear as he turns his blinker on to switch lanes. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Scully’s voice replied from the other end. She sounded apprehensive, but he figured maybe she was worried because he wasn’t usually late to work.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m almost there,” he apologized, turning onto the street of the Hoover Building.

“Oh… um. Okay, I’ll see you here,” she answered oddly.

Something was off but he wasn’t sure what it was. “Is everything okay? Did you need something?” he asked.

“No, no. It’s fine, nevermind,” she rushed.

“If you need me to pick something up for you I can, I promise it’s no inconvenience at all,” he earnestly reassured as he passed the entrance for the parking garage.

“Can you pick me up some-,” the last word she said was mumbled and he was curious if there was someone in the office she didn’t want to overhear.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Could you pick me up some tampons? I don’t have any and I can’t find a dispenser or a generous coworker and I really need them,” she mumbled.

Scully was asking him to do a personal favor.

Sometimes he felt like he unloaded so much of his own personal baggage onto her and she never asked for anything in return. In all honesty, they’d been partners for three years now, yet she was still a bit of an enigma to him. It didn’t matter to Mulder in the slightest that asking him was her last choice, he was just over the moon that she’d tasked him with something so important and not work-related.

“Of course I can. I’ll stop by Walgreens right now,” he comforted. He could only try to empathize with her situation and even then he felt like he wasn’t doing it justice. Was she in pain? Was she bleeding on herself?

He really didn’t know, but what he did know was that he wanted to do all he could to help her.

“Thank you, Mulder. I really appreciate it,” she replied.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you in a few.”

He lasted a minute in the aisle before calling her again. “At the risk of sounding like a stupid man, I’m confused,” he admitted.

“Usually there’s a feminine hygiene section next to the pharmacy-”

“No, I found them. I just found too many of them. What do the letters mean? Does it matter what color they are?” he asked, scanning the aisle filled with boxes adorned with women playing tennis on them.

He could hear her smiling and was glad to know his confusion was easing her prior self-consciousness. “Um, aim for getting the ones that say S plus, please. If you see a multipack that’d be great.”

He looked around and found a section dedicated to multipacks and there he saw ’S plus’ meant 'Super Plus’ and his heart went out to her. “Do you want Kotex, Playtex, or Tampax?”

“Whichever’s cheapest is fine,” she replied before quickly adding. “But no cardboard applicators!”

“Cardboard applicators?” he repeated, confused.

He heard her chuckle under her breath before informing him, “The part you put in to get the tampon in. Most are a smooth plastic, but some sadistic, cheap man invented ones with cardboard instead and they hurt.”

Well that man be damned. “Okay, how does a one hundred and twenty pack, equally divided between 'R’, ’S’, and ’S plus’, of Kotex with a plastic applicator sound?” he asked, grabbing the box.

“That’s probably expensive. I’m really fine with just the small pack,” she told him as he walked to the chocolate aisle.

“Sure. I have to pick up a few things, but I’ll be over in a sec okay?” he replied.

Kotex 120 Pack - $24.99

Midol Complete Symptoms 40 Capsules - $6.99

M&Ms - $0.99

————————————–

Tax: 3.42

Total: $36.39

On the way into the building he started to fear she’d be mad at him for getting things she didn’t ask for, but he felt confident in his decision when he walked into the office and caught her grabbing her side with a pained grimace on her face, her lips pouting and her brows furrowing in discomfort. “Hey,” he greeted gently, not wanting to startle her.

She jumped and immediately let go of her side and put on a brave face, making him worry how many times she’s hidden her pain in the past. “Hey, thank you,” she smiled as she took the bag from him, her smile turning into confusion when she realized how heavy the bag was.

He stuffed the receipt in his pocket as he sat down, trying not to make a big deal out of this. “Mulder,” she drew out, shifting the contents around the bag for inspection. “This is very sweet, but you really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he shrugged, turning on his computer.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“Nothing, they were giving stuff away for free,” he teased.

“Mulder, no. This must’ve been expensive. I-”

“Consider it a thank you for all the hard work you do even though you’re in pain. I don’t mean that condescending or anything, I just feel bad that you have to deal with this every month,” he explained awkwardly.

She smiled at him and looked back at the bag before gasping, “M&Ms!”

VI

“Mulder, I’m fine.”

He hadn’t even asked the question and he could already hear her curt answer. It was the same answer he’d been getting for the past month.

But she wasn’t fine, and it was obvious.

He understood it was hard for someone as private as her to open up, but he wished she recognized it was just as hard to have to sit and watch her get thinner, paler, and sicker everyday yet be expected not to care.

And that’s really all he could do. Sit and watch.

Which is what he was doing and how he noticed the way her body lurched while she was looking at her computer, eyes widening before standing up as all the color drained from her face. “Scull-” he began to question.

“I have to go t-” her words were only the ghost of a whisper, as if she didn’t want to actually give them a voice, but he still heard them.

She turned to leave but just as quickly turned on her heel and let her eyes scan the floor as she raised a hand to her mouth.

Oh

He jumped up and quite literally leaped into action, reaching an arm to the side of the desk she wasn’t on and pulling the trash can from the floor so he could pass it to her.

She snatched it out of his hand in her hurry and turned her back to him as she set the trash can on the floor, fell to her knees, and threw up. Her entire body was being wracked from the force of her vomiting, and he was at her side in a minute.

He grabbed her hair, focusing on the front and sides to avoid any strands falling and getting in the way. With his other hand, he rubbed soothing circles on her back as he whispered, “It’s okay, Scully. Let it out. Please don’t cry.”

He felt himself trying not to choke on the last words as he saw her lip quiver in between her now sporadic bouts of dry-heaving. The first two rounds were powerful, what looked like her entire, miniscule lunch coming up, but these last few were just strained sounds as her body tried to throw up nothing - which was all she had left.

Mulder took his hand off her back momentarily as he strained to grab his mug of water from his desk, eventually looping his fingers around it and pulling it down to give to her. “Here,” he offered as she sat up straighter.

She looked at the cup only, avoiding his eyes, and grabbed it with both hands before bringing it up to her lips and taking small sips. “It’s just a side effect of the medicine I’m taking,” she murmured softly into the cup.

He knew. Nausea, vomiting, fatigue, dizziness, confusion, weight changes, mood swings. He looked up every single piece of information he could find when he was able to read the medicine label one day. It was the only way he could bite his tongue when he saw her sway on her feet or ask the same question twice within five minutes or continue wearing her old clothes even though they hung off her skeletal body or when she managed to look him in the eye and tell him she was seriously fucking fine. It made it easier on him; She wasn’t dying, it was the medicine.

“I didn’t want you to see that,” she admitted and he felt like he’d finally taken a breath of fresh air after suffocating for weeks. She was being honest.

He watched as she untucked the trash bag from the can, bringing the edges together and tying them up to conceal her puke. “I want you to know I’ll always be here for you,” he told her.

She looked over at him and he saw her eyes were red, puffy, and wet. No tears had fallen, but they were wet enough to reflect her pain to him. The same pain he heard in her voice when she said, “I know you will.”

VII

He was a little worried when she wasn’t answering or returning his calls. His worry morphed into full blown concern when she wouldn’t answer the door when he knocked. Want to meet at my apartment at six?

They had plenty of time before they needed to be in Harrisburg, but it was unlike Scully to be late, even more unlike her to be unresponsive. He got out his key ring and found the one he seldom had the opportunity to use.

He timidly let himself into her apartment with his key, not wanting to evoke fury from his not-so-morning person partner. “Scully?” he called out, letting the door close behind him. All the lights were off, the only light streaming in through the blinds and making the dust motes in the air dance.

Surely she didn’t get the plans mixed up.

He heard a sound from down the hall and he followed it calling her name once more before reaching the doorway of her bedroom to alert her of his presence.

Oh.

Scully, his perfectly punctual partner, slept in.

The blinds to her window were pulled up completely so he could see her perfectly through the blue light of morning. He felt himself holding his breath in an unneeded attempt to maintain the serenity of the room as he tiptoed to the other side of the bed to get a look at her fully.

She looked so diminutive under the covers and he couldn’t believe that the little bundle wrapped in quilts was actually his partner. When he moved enough to see her face, he couldn’t help the smile that broke out onto his face. She’d kill him if she knew he thought it, but she looked so cute.

She was laying on her side and cuddling one of her many pillows, embracing it with her arms and draping her top leg over it protectively. For the first time in his life, he was jealous of a pillow. Her hair was unruly and puffy, but didn’t obscure his view of her peaceful face.

He froze for a second when he heard her make a sound, immediately realizing how creepy he’d seem if she just woke up to him hovering next to her. But instead of waking up, she just made a little sleepy whining sound and tightened her grip on the pillow, burrowing her cheek against it.

Her lips were parted as her usually stoic face took on an almost childlike innocence. He felt in this moment how he did looking at the little perfection in life - blankets of virgin snow, the surface of a lake without any ripples, dawn breaking in the distance on a cool morning. All made his breath stop as he couldn’t resist stopping and taking in the fleeting beauty.

He wished it could last forever, but he knew he had to be the one to wake her.

Easing down onto his haunches next to the bed, so they were face to face, he tentatively raised a hand and brushed some hair away from her face. It almost seemed like she recognized on some subconscious level that he’d done that because a small cooing sound of comfort escaped her lips as her tongue came out to lick her lips. He didn’t think he’d ever said 'awwww’ so many times in his head before as he had since entering this room.

“Scully,” he whispered, stroking her cheek.

He didn’t get a response so he moved to her arm, squeezing lightly, “Scully.”

“MMgoo'night,” she murmured, barely moving her lips and still deep in sleep’s clutches.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that as he told her, “No, no, Scully. It’s morning. We have to leave soon.”

An adorable frown tugged on her lips as her brows furrowed - the first footfall in the snow, the ripple in the pond. “Five more minutes, please,” she begged in an uncharacteristically whiney voice.

“I have coffee for us in the car,” he prompted.

She must’ve actually registered him that time because her eyes started to flutter open, lazily flitting around until they landed on his face. He smiled at her sweetly in an attempt to prevent her from getting startled.

“Mulder?” she asked, sleep still thick in her voice.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“Wha’s wrong?” she asked, raising herself up on one hand as the other came up to her face to rub her eyes.

As she raised herself, the quilt fell from her and revealed the tight tank top she’d been wearing as a pyjamas. She wasn’t wearing a bra and he wasn’t prepared to be face to face with Dana Scully’s barely concealed, perfect breasts so early in the morning.

“Uh, n-nothing. You just weren’t answering my calls and I was worried something was wrong,” he answered, clearing his throat and trying not to gawk as her body reacted to the cool morning air.

She looked confused and rolled away from him, craning her neck to presumably look at a clock on the other nightstand. As she did this, the quilt twisted in her legs and pulled down, revealing the bottom portion of her pyjamas.

Or lack thereof.

To add another thing that was just making this the best morning of his life, he just got an eyeful of Dana Scully’s underwear clad ass. She gasped and whipped back over to him and his eyes shot to the ceiling. “Oh my god, Mulder! I’m so sorry!”

“Y-you’re fine,” he assured as she jumped out of bed and inadvertently rubbed against him while running to her closet.

“We’re so late!” she rushed, the navy brat in her coming out. If they left right now, they’d be an hour early.

“Scully, take your time,” he said as he watched her grab a pantsuit at random and rush to the bathroom, trying his best to ignore the way her lithe body moved in the morning light. “Um, I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll wait out in the living room.”

“I’m so sorry!” she called out again to the man who felt like the luckiest guy alive.

VIII

She’d been asleep for the last three hours of the drive and only woke up because there were too many cars around them for him to avoid this particular pothole. Mulder tried not to stare as she did her adorable little stretches to wake up and orient herself.

She rubbed her eyes before quietly groaning, “Shit.”

“Hmm?” he hummed in recognition, internally rejoicing that he got to hear her swear.

“I forgot I was wearing makeup,” she mumbled, pulling the visor down and looking at herself in the mirror.

Mulder wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she was just making little adjustments and wipes here and there with her fingers. She looked under the visor to make sure they were at a red light before turning to him. “Do I look okay?”

He knew his answer before he even turned to look at her, but he pretended to have to check just to take the opportunity to examine her face. She was letting herself be on full display, looking directly at him and jutting her chin out, slightly rotating her head around so he could get the full Scully-experience. “You always look good,” he replied honestly.

She smiled, despite herself, and rolled her eyes. “No seriously. Is my makeup smudged? Does it look even?”

They just stared at each other for a moment, her trying to find signs something was off in his eyes and him just enjoying looking at hers. Taking a chance, he raised a hand to her face and cupped her cheek. He felt as much as he saw her breath catch as she remained totally still. He lifted his thumb and very carefully stroked the skin under one of her eyes. She looked up to, he assumed, give him better access, and it made him happy to see this small display of trust.

As quickly as it started, he pulled his hand back into his lap, and murmured, “Perfect.”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about her makeup.

IX

She should just give up. She finally tried to go on a date after an embarrassingly long dry spell, one that seemed to correlate perfectly to her work on the X Files, and she got stood up. Well, kind of. She was completely dressed and on her way to the restaurant, the one that required a monetary donation in order to get a reservation, and he decided to call last minute and cancel. No raincheck though, apparently his wife wasn’t fond of polygamy. Go figure.

For a moment she considered pulling over and having herself a good cry, just let herself have a moment to indulge in some good ol’ self-pity, but by the time she found a place to park, she found herself right outside Mulder’s apartment. It was funny how things seemed to work out like that.

She turned off the car and took a moment to look at herself in the rearview mirror and evaluate her situation.

One, she looked sexy right now. Hair, makeup, dress. She looked damn good.

Two, she would only lose out on the money she spent on the reservation. Insult to injury.

Three, Mulder would say yes. He loved food and he loved hanging out with her.

Four, she’d rather be on a date with him anyway.

But it wasn’t going to be a date. That’s what she told herself as she made her way to his door. She had been intending to go on a date, and now she was just hanging out with her best friend. No more, no less.

He opened the door on the third knock and his normal greeting of “Hey, Scully” managed to morph into “He-oh my god…you look…Scully, you look fantastic.” His appreciation of the hard work she’d put into choosing a dress made her feel somehow validated. Appreciated. She figured it had something to do with the fact that she’d been holding every dress up in the mirror and thinking about whether or not he’d have that very same reaction.

She loved being right.

“Thank you,” she smiled, pretending like the newly exposed tops of her breasts were something he saw everyday and that she wasn’t noticing the way his eyes were unabashedly roaming. She might’ve noticed if this was a date, maybe even teased him a little. But this was not a date. “I was just curious if you were busy tonight?”

“No, why?” he asked, and she ignored the hint of hope she heard in his voice because no one ever sounded that eager to hang out with their friends. Which is what this was.

“My mom tried to set me up on a date, but he cancelled while I was on my way and the dinner reservations are non-refundable. So, I was hoping, since I’m not going on a date anymore, if you’d want to just go grab some dinner with me?” she asked, hoping she managed to subtly emphasize her point.

“He cancelled? Was this a blind date?” he asked, incredulous shock in his tone.

She laughed lightly and walked through the door when he ushered her to. “No, we’ve actually met a few times. He goes to my mother’s church.”

She heard Mulder grumble something under his breath that sounded really close to 'what an idiot’ but before she had a chance to ask him to repeat himself he stated. “Of course, I’d love to go with you and salvage your evening, but if you’re any indication, I’m severely underdressed. Where is it?”

“It’s at Un restaurant français chic,” she told him, tucking a wavy tendril of hair behind her ear.

“I’ll go put on my suit,” he nodded, walking to his bedroom.

“Oh, Mulder, I really don’t want to put you out. You look fine,” she called out.

“Not when you look like that!” he replied, closing the door.

She caught her reflection in a nearby mirror and couldn’t help but smile. She’d done her eye makeup darker than normal, her hair was waved, and both served to compliment her face nicely. Her dress was midnight black with thin spaghetti straps, a heart shaped neckline, and a slit up the side, emphasizing her leg.

She looked good and she was glad he got to see it.

Within a few minutes, Mulder came out of the bedroom wearing what had to have been the best fitting suit known to man. She whistled appreciatively and he ducked his head and smiled. He stopped near her, next to the mirror to look at himself. “Do I look okay?” he asked, his eyes roaming aimlessly as they’d never fall on an imperfection.

“You clean up wonderfully, partner,” she confirmed.

He smiled and turned, but she stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest. Mulder looked at her wordlessly as she adjusted his tie, biting a smile as she watched his adam’s apple bob nervously under her touch.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” he smiled, leading her with his hand on the small of her back.

X

She was a strong, independent woman. She was resilient, she was self-reliant, and she was proud. She was the last person who would ever want to fall privy to the gender stereotypes often forced upon her.

But she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to fix her goddamned sink. It’d been leaking for days and she just couldn’t figure out how to get it to stop. To top it all off, her apartment complex’s maintenance guy was creepy and she didn’t want him in her apartment - and her schedule was too hectic to call someone.

That left one option.

“Hey? Can you stop by my place after work?” she asked from across the desk.

He looked surprised, but curious. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m not asking you because you’re a man and I assume you know how, but because I know you’re a good problem solver,” she began.

“Wow, what a preamble,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes and explained, “My sink is broken and I don’t have the right tools to fix it nor do I understand how to.”

“Say no more, I’m your man,” he boasted.

He’d said that with so much confidence that she could barely believe her eyes when she walked behind him a few hours later and saw he was browsing the internet for 'How to fix a sink.’ He quickly clicked onto a different document when he noticed her presence but she pretended that she hadn’t been paying attention to him. She felt herself smile even though she was trying her hardest to repress it, that was just too sweet and so incredibly Mulder of him.

To say she was excited to see how this panned out was an understatement. She knew Mulder was a quick learner and eager to please, but, honestly, looking back she couldn’t think of a time she’d ever seen him do anything handyman-esque.

They’d agreed on seven and he showed up at six thirty. “I’m sorry I’m so early, I can leave and come back,” he apologized when he took in her wet hair and fluffy bathrobe.

“No, no, I just got out of the shower. This is perfect timing, come on in.” As he walked passed her, she admired his new outfit. He was wearing old, worn blue jeans with a heather gray t-shirt. It was a casual side of him that she couldn’t help but admire. He looked really good.

“Is it the kitchen sink or bathroom sink?” he asked.

“Bathroom,” she motioned. She followed him down the hall and flicked on the light switch for him. “Sorry it’s warm in here. I just got out of the shower.”

“It smells like you,” he replied. Then, as if embarrassed he said that, he teased her by playing mechanic, putting on a deep, 'manly’ voice, “So little lady, what seems to be the problem.”

Indulging him for once, she made her voice airy and breathy and, in a faux southern drawl, replied, “Well, my pipes just won’t stop leakin’.”

As if they realized the innuendo at the same time, they burst out laughing. “Okay, sorry. No-it just honestly is dripping everywhere.”

“Too wet?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes and slapped his arm lightly as he set his tool bag on the sink. She didn’t bring attention to the store tag she saw still attached. “I think I can take care of that,” he replied, pulling out a wrench. She wondered how many tutorials he read to know exactly what tool to use.

He bent down and opened her cabinets before turning so he was on his back, looking upwards. From her vantage point she could just see from chest down and it was an erotic sight she hadn’t anticipated. Most plumbers exposed their asscrack, but Mulder was letting his defined adonis belt peek out over his jeans and under his slightly raised shirt. “How long has this been an issue?” he asked, making conversation.

“About two weeks,” she answered, clearing her throat.

“Make sure to do it the right way this time,” she teased, suddenly remembering when he offered his help a few cases ago and how absolutely horrible that had worked out.

“Haha, very funny,” he chuckled.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she smirked, watching him work.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?” he asked, accompanying the sounds of cranking.

“I wanted to figure it out. I tried to tighten it myself, but I think I just couldn’t get it,” she replied, watching the way his hips lightly thrust upwards from the force of his cranks.

“It looks like you were close,” he comforted, though she didn’t know if it was necessarily true.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

“Try the sink,” he told her.

She awkwardly tried to reach the faucet, but ended up having to stand right next to him while hoping her robe didn’t gape open and expose herself.

The sink ran and she heard him let out a triumphant sound before he hit her legs with his face. “Sorry,” she laughed, stepping back as he placed a hand on her calf to pull himself up.

“No, you’re fine,” he chuckled. Mulder stood up, a few wet stops from the prior drip blossoming on his shirt.

She hadn’t expected it to be so fast and she didn’t want him to leave quite yet. I mean he drove all the way here and all. “Want to stay for coffee?” she asked, tucking a wet strand behind her ear.

He smiled at her, clearly not having wanted to leave himself and nodded, “Yeah.”

[swiftorbust]

One Thing I Learned From Each Track on Lover

1. I Forgot That You Existed:

Sometimes the people that you think are going to be there forever end up showing you their true colors in times when you need them most. Just because you’re committed to sticking by them through the good and the bad, doesn’t mean that they’re willing to do the same. You don’t have to hate each other, you don’t have to fight, you can just move on: Indifference.

“It isn’t love, it isn’t hate it’s just indifference.”

2. Cruel Summer:

There will always be a newer, shinier, better version of what you may already have. It’s a good reminder that what you want might now be the best thing for you.

“Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes.”

3. Lover:

When you’re with the right person for you, you feel safe, valued and heard. You can travel through life with a set of rules thats unique to your relationship and your relationship only. Nothing else matters.

“This is our place, we make the rules.”

4. The Man:

To put it simply, human beings are not all equal in some people’s eyes. Minorities have to work twice as hard to get to the same point as someone more privileged. And even if/when you get there, your successes are still questioned.

“They wouldn’t shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve.”

5. The Archer:

Recognize who you are at face value: the good, the bad and the ugly. Acknowledge your weaknesses and start to take ownership. You’re worthy of love and kindness, but if you don’t work on the flaws within yourself, no one will stay for what you have to offer.

“Who could ever leave me darlin’, but who could stay?”

6. I Think He Knows:

If your heart isn’t skipping beats, it ain’t it sis. That feeling of butterflies every time you see someone is so important in a relationship. That sense of longing someone and missing them when you just left them an hour ago; that’s something special. 

“You’ve got my heartbeat, skippin’ down 16th Avenue.”

7. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

We’re in a very scary time for many reasons, but a change in the world of politics is vital. We as American citizens need to recognize and stand up ourselves, our communities, and most importantly, those who are unable to fight for themselves.

“American glory, faded before me. Now I'm feeling hopeless, ripped up my prom dress.”

8. Paper Rings:

Love trumps any and everything. If you were to lose all of your material things tomorrow, what would your relationship look like? Would there be a strong foundation of love, respect and loyalty? Or would everything crumble because it wasn’t built on those factors? For better or for worse, if you care about someone at the most fundamental level, you’ll want to be there for everything.

“I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too, I want your dreary Mondays.”

9. Cornelia Street:

There’s no point in playing games - don’t way too long to show your hand. Lean in, follow your feelings and don’t hold anything back. Passing the chance you have to be vulnerable and reveal your feelings can hurt way more in the end than the idea of being rejected. What if it doesn’t work out? But what if it does. Things will fall into place, but you need to help gravity  a little bit on the way down.

“But then you called, showed your hand. I turned around before I hit the tunnel, sat on the roof, you and I.”

10. Death By A Thousand Cuts:

Sometimes love isn’t enough between two people. Sometimes, two people aren’t meant for the long haul. People are placed Into your life for certain reasons at certain times to help you change, evolve and grow. The worst goodbye is one you don’t have a reason for.

“I look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up. Chandelier still flickering here cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when its not.”

11. London Boy

Love is supposed to be fun, playful, giddy and make your heart flutter. Showing your significant other your hometown, having them meet your best friends and doing the things you love to do with them is what a relationship is all about. Don’t sweat the small stuff and actually enjoy your time together, whatever you’re doing.

“He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling I fancy you.”

12. Soon You’ll Get Better

The age-old tale of you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Any loved one with cancer is a terrifying thing, and knowing that your best friend and confidante could be taken away from you at any moment Is a pill that you’ll never be able to swallow. Losing my mom to Breast Cancer, this song perfectly, yet simply,  translates the fear, irrational hope and constant desire to make anything you can better for the person going through this.

“And I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there's no you?”

13. False God:

Believing in something whole-heartedly doesn’t make it true and doesn’t make it right. As much as you want to stay on course and take that leap of faith blindly, there’s more than likely red flags that line the very path that you chose to walk down.

“They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith.”

14. You Need To Calm Down:

Focus on yourself: your actions and your actions only. The energy that you put out into the world can have the power to make or break someone and your words matter - use them for good or don’t say anything at all.

“You just need to take several seats and try to restore the peace and control your urges to scream about all the people you hate.”

15. Afterglow

We over-think, over-analyze and over-complicate. We blow things out of proportion, take things the wrong way and hold people accountable for something they didn’t do. Maybe you didn’t realize, or want to realize, that this is something that’s on you to fix. Anxiety and insecurity are real and raw parts of any relationship that can hurt both sides if it isn’t talked about. Emotions can sometimes get the best of you, but try to recognize when you’re in the wrong.

“Hey, it’s all me, in my head. I’m the one who burned us down, but it's not what I meant. Sorry that I hurt you.”

16. ME!

Value the relationships that are so special and dear to you. Cherish the fact that each relationship in your life is different and unique in their own right - they aren’t comparable to each other and they shouldn’t be.

“And I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me.”

17. It’s Nice To Have A Friend

You don’t know what someone is going through and everyone has battles they’re fighting daily. Seeing someone in pain or showing emotions can be uncomfortable and it can be hard too gain the nerve to address it. It’s awkward and uncomfortable. But showing your support through something as simple as holding someone’s hand can make a world of a difference for someone who is struggling.

“Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand, it’s nice to have a friend.”

18. Daylight

Not everything on your shoulders is yours to carry. Let go of the things that are weighing you down - make it easier on yourself. You are in control of your emotions and have every right to make your way out of the darkness that surrounds you. There’s a bright light waiting for you.

“I’ve been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night, and now I see daylight. I only see daylight.”

--

Thank you, @taylorswift for creating this masterpiece!

[howtohero]

#244 Mirror Dimensions

We’ve spoken, from time to time, about the vast beauty of the multiverse. We have also, less frequently, spoken about how sometimes the multiverse is just trash. Sometimes literally! There are many dimensions where everything is garbage! There’s the one where everybody is a humanoid made of trash. There’s the one where all living organisms just happen to resemble pieces of garbage from our dimension. There’s the one that college roommates and best friends Bob and Jonathan used as a garbage dump for a bit until they realized, to their horror, that the weird portal in their garbage can was not an intended feature of the garbage can but actually a portal to another dimension full of people who did not appreciate all this extra garbage! But then there are dimensions that are trashy in a more metaphorical way. There are some dimensions (in fact some would argue that there is an entire alternate multiverse, but that just betrays a fundamental lack of understanding of what a multiverse is) that are colloquially known as mirror dimensions or reverse polarity dimensions or topsy-turvey dimensions. These universes basically take a positive polarity dimension, use it as a template, and then mirror it. This means that many things that you take for granted in your home universe will be flipped in the corresponding mirror universe. Sometimes this will mean that directions are flipped or words mean their opposites (or chocolate chip cookies are really healthy while vegetables are not), but we’d advise you to steer clear of those universes entirely. We’ve met you, you’re not ready to enter a universe that is operating on an entirely different set of physics. (If you can find one of those cookie universes though, by all means, go right ahead.) For our purposes, a mirrored universe refers to any dimension where the people you know as good will be evil, and vice versa.

Encountering mirror universes can be very disorienting, especially if you’re not prepared for it at all. It can be confusing to encounter people that look like you and your fellow superhereos, only for them to then turn around and rip a bus in half and throw each half at a different orphanage. So it helps to know the signs.

Telltale signs that the hero in front of you is actually a mirror universe counterpart:

They’ve got a goatee. That’s an easy one. If you ever see a superhero with a goatee, don’t even ask any questions just punch them in the face. “But what about superheroes that just decide to grow a goatee?” you ask! Well, they’re just going to get punched in the face. If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t grow a goatee.

Their costume is inverted colors. This is a classic mirror universe tell. If you see a hero who kind of looks like someone you know, except the colors on their costume is inverted they’re either a mirror universe bad guy, or they’re the hero’s nephew and sidekick. Either way you escort them away from a super-battle. If they’re a bad guy, then great, you have removed a bad guy from the crimes they were trying to commit. If they are a child sidekick, that’s also great, because they are a child and they should be in school.

They refer to you by a similar, yet different, codename than the one you’re using. (Like, say, “Capman”) This could mean that they are confusing you for your counterpart in their universe. It could also just be that they are from your universe and they’re just a jerk who can’t be bothered to learn your name. (It’s important to Hatman that you know that caps are technically different. It is important to us too, because if you cause him to launch into another one of his “well you see, it’s all in the shape and position of the crown” rants we will be very upset!) Either way you can probably just punch them. (In the event that the name they called you was cooler than the name you’re actually using I recommend just stealing it.)

They are committing a crime. If they’re committing a crime, they’re probably not the superhero you thought they were. Like, literally. It’s probably a different person. Don’t assume that they’re in the middle of some long all’s-well-that-ends-well-greater-good con. Just stop the crime.

If you’re forced to battle evil mirror universe versions of your superhero friends, don’t panic. There need not be any moral hand-wringing about fighting what is essentially a version of your child’s godparent or the guy who saved the whole world last week. With a mirror universe, the resemblance tends to be only surface deep. They are not the person who you’ve been a friend and colleague of, rather they are a broken and twisted version whose desire for pain and chaos is of equal value to your hero friend’s desire for justice. This already makes them incredibly dangerous, there’s no need to give them more of an advantage by feeling squeamish about punching a familiar face.

Evil mirror versions will often play up the worst attributes of the people they’re mirrors of. So if there’s something you don’t like about your friend, the alternate evil version of them will have that aspect of them enhanced like crazy. So it might not actually be that hard for you to look past the familiar visage and fight them. Besides, this doesn’t even need to be a long fight. Surely you’ve got someone on your team who, in a fit of paranoia, devised plans to kill everyone they know should they turn evil. That’s terrifying, sure, but this is the perfect time to break out those plans. Most of them will probably still work, even accounting for the differences between the two people. 

Mirror universe counterparts actually make for an interesting study in nature vs nurture. Your evil mirror universe will have evil hardcoded into their nature. It will be baked into their very essence along with everything else that makes you you. Then, any external influences in their life will either support their desire to be evil, or have an uphill battle to fight in terms of making them good. Which begs the question, if a mirror universe version of yourself must be evil, do they have free will? Was there ever a chance for them to be good? Can they ever become good. Can meeting you, a good version of themselves, allow them to break free of their evil nature? How do we know for sure that their universe is a mirror of yours and not the other way around? Maybe you’re only good because in their universe they decided to be evil. Pondering these questions is sure to give you a headache so I recommend just not! However, they can have practical applications. If we say that a mirror universe counterpart is destined to simply be an inversion of you, perhaps you can alter the course of their lives.

One of the worst parts about encountering an evil mirror version of a superhero is that they will be just as good at committing crimes as the good version of them is at stopping crimes. That’s a pretty scary thought. But at least you can recruit the heroes of mirror dimension to help you fight them, so it should all be ok right? Wrong! Because this means that the heroes of their universe will only be as good at stopping crimes as your villains are at committing crimes. And considering that the last villain you fought was named Mustard Man, The Dijon Avenger and the crime he was committing was, and this is completely true, trying to commission a mad scientist over the internet to create a device that turns water into mustard, I would say that you’re not going to get much help there. (We say “trying” because he was not actually corresponding with a real mad scientist. He was corresponding with a fifteen year old prankster/accidental crime fighter who reported him to the police. He was catfished guys.) 

So if we understand that these bad guys’ ability to commit crimes is proportional to your skill at fighting crime, then it stands to reason that if you were a little bit worse at fighting crime, then your alternate universe evil counterpart would be a bit worse at committing crimes. (Ok here us out I swear this is going somewhere good.) If we accept that as fact, then that means that if all the superheroes in your dimension decide to just be terrible at stopping crimes, then their evil multiversial cousins will be terrible at committing crimes. So if you and all of your super friends all agree to just stop fighting crime then all of your evil mirror counterparts will stop committing crimes. You have, right now, the chance to end crime in an alternate universe. Some would argue that you have a moral imperative to do that. Sure, you’d be allowing criminals and supervillains to run rampant in your own universe, but we’ve already established that they’re pretty terrible at doing that, while your alternate counterparts are undoubtably bloodthirsty tyrants who use their incredible power and prowess to dominate the world. Plus, just fighting crime doesn’t mean you’re going to eventually be able to end crime. This allows you to end crime for an entire universe. 

Of course, all of this depends on you being sure that your universe is the template and the other universe is the mirror. For all you know, your universe is the mirror, and your actions and motivations are dependent on your counterparts in other universes. There’s really no surefire way to tell for sure which universe in a pair is the mirror. Normally I’d say the one where the villains are in control of the world is probably the mirror universe, but in our model you’d be allowing villains to run rampant and probably eventually take control of your universe while your mirror universe flourishes without villains, so who knows! 

[sanjuno]

SI prompt: Sailor Moon?

(2/32 SI Promptfest)

One of the things that Security always mentions when you start a new job and they hand over your accessbadge is that you need to completely close the doors behind you after passingthrough. A small piece of very important,very good advice that is sadly ignored more often than not once people settleinto their positions. Unfortunately, I failed to realize my coworker’s hubrisuntil the first shots were fired.

‘Oh shit.’ Thethought formed independent of the gibbering panic and pain as the horrificallyloud set of gunshots tore me out of my chair and flung me to the ground. ‘This is a brand new suit.’

I finished bleeding out about three minutes later.

/…/

Standing naked in the void, skin glowing like a star, myshocked mind could only offer up yet another inane thought. “Telling my motherthat I wanted my ashes turned into a diamond and mounted on a sword for my heirto wield as they avenge my death because I only intended to die when I waskilled was supposed to be a joke not aprophecy!”

“Too bad. Find comfort in the fact that your last wishes will be carriedout as you intended.” The human-shaped figure stepping out of theaether was a familiar stranger, their expression both sympathetic and uncaring.

“… Honored Janus.” Was I supposed to bow? Offer a handshake?How exactly were the dead supposed to greet a Roman God of duality and change?“I gotta say you’re not who I wasexpecting to run into roundabout now.”

“Who better than I to meet with one who so accepted the necessity ofchange, of growth and balance? Yours may not have been a grand story, but itwas a true one, and in the telling of it you have encouraged many changes.”The god of beginnings and endings grinned at me with one side of his face andfrowned with the other. No wonder the sculptors always put two faces on hisstatues. I would not want to be thecarver responsible for recreating that expression. Complicated was a bit of anunderstatement. “I find this useful for my purpose. Enjoy your new beginning, child ofthe Eclipse, Warrior of Dawn and Dusk.”

“… Eh?” I was the mostconfused. Was there supposed to be an explanation somewhere in there? “Wait,what the heeeee-olyshitwhatthefuck!”

Glitter. Glitter everywhere.Mixed with glowing bubbles and fireworks and no, really, what the fuck?

/…/

So.

Reincarnation was a thing. That actually happened to people.To me, specifically, in this case. If anyone was wondering.

It took awhile for my memories to come back, after I wasreborn. Which was actually a good thing because I needed those first few yearsto absorb a new first language. The confusion generated when I was six and myEnglish resurfaced was only funny in retrospect. At the time it was justfrustrating and slightly embarrassing.

Although once the initial assimilation was over with it wasnice to be able to code switch between English and Japanese. Almost like aconsolation prize for my new lease on life. Whee.

Oh, also I was a boy now. My eyes were still grayish-blue,my hair was still a dark ashy blond, but I was also Japanese and male. It wasan interesting mix of old and newfeatures coming together to make ‘me’.

… Probably Janus’ fault, now that I think of it. Good thingI never put any stock in gender or sex. Yay for the unexpected benefits ofbeing Ace-spectrum!

Nah, the gender reassignment was nothing. What reallybothered me was that I was the youngersibling. It was odd and wrong and upset the universal balance of what Iknew to be true. I could handle the educational pressure of being a ‘childgenius’. I could handle the overbearing social reinforcement of gender roles. Icould even handle the loss of everything I had once known and everyone I onceloved. (Granted, I did this by compartmentalizing and being slightlyemotionally stunted, but what works, works.)

I could not handle someone trying to ‘big sister’ me.

Thankfully, my new sister was… a flake. A ditz. A completeand total dunce. I loved her dearly and I would tear out the tongues of anyonewho spoke badly of her, but she had almost no academic intelligence at all.

I had expected it, really. After all, just because I wasreborn was never going to change such a fundamental part of her character. Heremotional and interpersonal intelligence was still off the charts, and hercharisma was frankly ludicrous. I still had a hard time accepting anyone who had proof positive of theirown ignorance not taking steps tocorrect it.

It was not like I wanted perfect grades from her. I justwanted enough effort put in to achieve competence.There was a difference between ‘I cannotdo this’ and ‘I will not do this’.Saying no once you have proved that you cando something is fine, but saying no without even trying sticks in my craw something fierce.

Knowing that a failed test paper plays a big part in Fate’sfuture machinations for my sister was also upsetting. Would pushing my sisterto study ruin the future? Would she still meet the people she needed to, stillmake the connections that allowed her to survive and win, even after all mymeddling?

I had no way of knowing. I could only trust that her Destinywould come for her. No matter what I did, or how many random first encounters Ineeded to contrive to bring it about.

“Shingo! Are you ready to go yet?” A voice I had beenfamiliar with long before my reincarnation called for me before my sister pokedher head into my room. “Come on,Shingo! I didn’t melt my brain studying all month just for you to flake out! I earned this shopping trip and youpromised to come with me!”

“Ehh, don’t pull out your hairbuns, Usagi.” Grabbing mysatchel off the back of my desk chair, I grinned at the future Queen of theWorld and winked. “Being this perfect takes work, you know?”

“Shingooo.” The eleven-year-old girl who was going to savethe world rolled her eyes at me and pouted. “Why are you like this?”

“Because not being me would be boring.” I stuck my nose up in the air with as much pomp as I wascapable of in a seven-year-old body. “Now let’s go! If we play this right Mamawill finally cave and get us the bedazzling gun so we can ‘enhance ourcreativity and encourage mental flexibility’.”

“Okay!” Usagi giggled, happily taking my offered hand andswinging our joined arms as we headed down the stairs. “Do you think we canconvince Mama to let me get my ears pierced too?”

“Eh, maybe.” I thought about the refractive properties ofcrystals and energy resonance as I glanced at my sister. The Imperium SilverCrystal, the Shintennou’s stones, Hearts Crystals, Star Seeds… crystals weregame changers in this world. Powerful ones. Tagging Usagi with a set that mostenemies would overlook… yeah. That was a good idea. Good job, self, excellentplan. I nodded. “I want my ears pierced too. We have an undeniable right tofreedom of self expression so long as we do so in a safe and healthy manner.”

Usagi stared blankly at me for a moment, nose scrunched upabove pursed lips. “You know I don’t understand you when you talk like that.”

“As long as you know what the words mean you’ll figure outhow they go together eventually, Bun-bun.” Cheerfully unrepentant, I hauled mysister down the last stair. “Onwards! To victory and glory everlasting!”

/…/

Ignoring the dull throb in my earlobes, I admired the hoopsI had chosen. Simple, elegant, unlikely to fall out unnoticed, and large enoughto hold three gemstone beads. For myself I had convinced my mother to buy blacktourmaline, lepidolite, and lapis lazuli. For Usagi I had picked outlabradorite, selenite, and rose quartz. Not expensive stones, but powerful onesfor the way their energies intersected and channeled power. Especially once Iwas done priming them as foci.

Abalone shell bowls with small, upwards facing mirrors atthe bottom. A little water in the bowls, add some salt, and then four undyedcandles in a circle, burning on the windowsill under the full moon. I watchedthe moonlight slowly gather in the stones, the smoke from the candles pulleddown into the water. Within moments of moonrise, each bead started to glitterand shine more brightly than nature intended.

Satisfied that it was working, I turned back to the blade inmy hand. It had appeared on my bed soon after my memories finished returning.It was ferociously sharp, and lighter in my hand than anything that size andmade of metal should be. The hilt was too big for my seven-year-old self to wieldeffectively, but the sword was perfectly proportioned for my old adult height. Carvedinto the blade was ancient Latin that named the sword VERITAS.

“Beware the truth, for it is a double-edged sword, whichcuts both ways.” I smiled, wiping the blade down to remove the excess oil. Itwas a magical blade, and probably did not need sharpening, but… better safethan brainwashed. “I do love a good pun.”

The milky diamond in the hilt flashed in the light, glowinglike a lantern in my dim bedroom. It was hard to look at the sword sometimes,especially since I knew what it meant. I was magic, the sword was magic, mysister was the fucking Queen of magicfor the entire damn solar system. It was still hard to look at my funeral stone,knowing that the diamond was formedfrom my ashes, and not feel cheated.

Violent deaths always leave something unfinished. I wondersometimes, now that I have experienced that incompleteness for myself, how muchof this resentment the Senshi felt after they knew of their past lives… and ofthe way the Moon Kingdom fell. At least, when the time came, I would be able tohelp Usagi deal with Serenity’s unfinished business.

“Sing, o muse! Of love everlasting!” I saluted the moonsolemnly before I fed the blade and sheathed it, shrinking it down to a pen andtucking it away. “Sing, o muse! As the old tale is told anew!”

Nothing and nobody would be allowed to stand in my way. Mysister was going to get her happy ending this time, and any assholes who triedto interfere with that were getting a death-sword to the face.

[dat-town]

could you maybe do seokjin (bts) + 10 for the halloween drabble request please?

10 “What do you mean you can’t get it up?” “Not all Incubi want sex.”

If someone told you that you’d share your apartment with an Incubi and still have a waste of sex life, you would have laughed them in the face. Not because of the Incubi part, it was pretty common for them to walk around. Mere humans usually befriended them for sexual benefits or because they simply couldn’t resist the pull. In that sense Jin was no exception. He stood tall and lean, all the perfect proportions one could have, his smile was devilish, eyes somewhat innocent with a mischievous glint in it. He was so undeniably hot when he pushed back his blonde hair and his low, seductive voice could make anyone weak in the knee. But he was one of a kind.

Unlike other Incubi all he did was blunt flirting but nothing more, no opening the bathroom door when you showed, no climbing into your bed, no touching. You wondered how he survived. Didn’t his kind need to feed on the sexual hormones others emitted?

“You’re really bad at what you’re doing. I mean when was the last time you got laid?” you asked him boldly one day one pine wine more in than you should have had.

Jin looked at you halfway in telling a stupid joke about hamburgers and then he let out an awkward laugh before answering:

“Well that’s a kind of funny story because…”

He mumbled something, barely audible so you had to lean closer and ask him to repeat it and when he did with a gaze looking anywhere but you, you backed away.

“What do you mean you can’t get it up?” you gaped at him and he hissed at you. Woe you have never heard of such thing when it came to his kind.

“Not all Incubi want sex,” he deadpanned and his words made you think. What could a creature whose life’s meaning revolved around sensuality want?

“Then what do you want? And don’t say good food or some dad joke because I already know you always want some.”

“What’s wrong with good food and dad jokes? The perfect combo!” He faked getting offended but then his face suddenly turned all serious. “I don’t know, just someone who doesn’t look at me only because I’m an Incubi who’s supposed to be like some sex god in bed,” he grimaced and turned back to the cupcakes he was making because after getting home from the office party a bit drunk, you had whined him to make some until he gave in. It was undeniably sweet of him

“Aww you’re sentimental,” you put a hand over your heart but you got it, you really did. It was the fundamental of every creatures’ wants and needs: to be loved and cared for.

You wanted to pinch his cheeks, he was so cute but before you knew it you fell off the kitchen counter and in the midst of laughing about it, Jin helped you up and put you to bed.

The next day, you didn’t remember any of it. Not the taste of the cupcake’s cream, not Seokjin’s worrying smile and not even his whispered confession: I wish that someone was you.

halloween drabbles

[littlebitoffanfic]

Vow

Fandom: Star Wars Character: Hux Relationship: Hux/reader Request: I’d love an angsty one where the reader walks out on hux and asks for a divorce because he doesn’t pay attention to her. But they get back together in the end “Hux?” You called out, opening the door to the office. You stepped inside without being called when you caught the eyes of the commander. You were nervous, it was obvious to see to anyone. “Its late,[y/n]. you should be in bed.” Hux looked back down to his datapad. “hux, this is the fourth night this week.” You walked up to his desk, your hands shaking slightly. “[y/], I have to work.” Hux didn’t even look up at you. “Do you realise that for the last 6 months, you have only slept by my side less than 25% of that time.” You stated, your voice shaking slightly like your hands. This caught his attention as his eyes shot up to meet yours. But he didn’t give you the reacting you thought. “I am busy.” He simply stated. “Last change.” Your words obviously confused him greatly as he looked up at you. But he just assumed you were meaning to come back with you. Shaking his head, he looked back to his datapad, not even answering you. “Very well.” You nod, turning on your heel and storming out of the office, your bag outside the door. -----------------time skip -------------------- It had been a month since you left your husband, the commander of the first order, Armitage Hux. You had left the ship with the blessing of the supreme leader, who knew that any other option would probably distract Hux more than anything. how wrong you both had been. You had assumed you would never see him again. Hux was a proud man, and a man who had refused to return to your marital bed for the best part of 6 months. You weren’t sitting back and being treated like an inconvenient. You had decided to stay at a holiday home Hux had bought you a few years ago although it was more of a safety place if something went wrong. You had been wondering what you were going to do, when you decided to stay there for 3 months and then you were going to go and work on one of the lower ships of the first order. You were a fundamental part of the first order technological advancement. It was late and you were ready for bed. You wore a silk nighty that hurt to wear to because it was the one you used to wear on special nights. Anniversary’s, birthday, accomplishments and many more things. You only wore it tonight because you only had a handful of night clothes and the others were in the wash. Lying in the bed, you were just about to turn the light off and go to sleep when you heard a knock at the front door. Sitting bolt up right, you immediately got your pistol from the side draw. For a moment, you sat still, listening until you heard another knock. Knowing you had to answer it, you got to your feet and grabbed your night gown and wrapped it around yourself, shoving the pistol in the pocket, and went to the front door. The holiday home was a small cottage with 2 floors so it didn’t take long for you to decent the stairs and reach the front door. Looking through the peep hole, you nearly gasped. On the other side of the door, was Armitage Hux. You clasped your hand over your mouth, silently cursing. What were you going to do? Do you speak to him through the door? Do you let him in? Turn him away? You saw he had something in his hands. Papers. Divorce papers. You had sent them 3 days ago. You didn’t expect him to acknowledge them, let alone come and find you with them. Maybe he would sign them. A part of your heart ached at the thought. No matter how much you wanted to hate him, you were still deeply in love with him. Much like you were 10 years ago when it was announced you would wed him. It was an arranged marriage, more political than anything else. The only thing was that you and Armitage had been sweethearts in your teenage years and had been forced apart. When you met up again as adults to be wed, he had practically lifted you into his arms and kissed you. It was a dream come true for you both. But now it had turned into a nightmare. You signed and unlocked the door, noticing how Hux jumped a little at the sudden noise of the creaking door. Then his eyes fell on you. You saw his mouth open a little but he never said anything. He just stared at you, not seeming to even breath. “yes?” You ask, pulling him from his trance. Clearing his throat, he held out the papers to you. “You sent them. I signed it. I took the liberty of changing some of the terms as they didn’t suite me.” He stated like an officer returning a report rather than a man losing his wife. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the papers out his hands. “Nothings ever good enough, is it?” You snapped, tears pricking your eyes as you stepped back. “Im not discussing my divorce on a doorstep at 11pm.” You left the door open as you went inside to the dining room, sitting down at the large table. You heard the main door close and footsteps followed you, meaning he was behind you. You sat at the top of one end and he sat at the top of the other, like two enemy’s on meeting grounds. You expected the new changes to be that you didn’t get a proportion of one thing or you weren’t entitled to another. Or that you were to receive nothing. The main martial assets you had together was this summer house and a savings fund. Flicking through 2 pages, you finally saw the section on assets. Taking a deep breath, you read through it and your mouth dropped open. He had given you everything. The house, the whole funds, even a portion of his salary for the next 5 years and security funds. “Wh-what?” You gasped, looking up at him. “I had no idea you were so unhappy. Even thought my intentions aren’t always clear in terms of our marriage, I always wanted you to be happy and safe.” He spoke in a clear but less formal manner as he met your gaze. His eyes were normally stoic and unfeeling but now, they were bursting with one emotions. Regret. He started at you like he was memorising your features, like he might blink and you would disappear. “I cant accept on these terms. They aren’t fair.” You place the papers down on the table, sliding them away from you. “They are fair. I have no need for the house or the savings.” Hux shook his head, looking around at the house as he spoke. “But the salary and the protections as well. I cant-“ You started to protest when he interrupted. “On our wedding day, I vowed to keep you safe. I know we are speaking about the end of our marriage but I intend to keep that vow.” Hux sat bolt up right, seeming offended that you weren’t accepting. You remembered how happy you had been on your wedding day, how it had been your ideal wedding. He had done everything in his power to make sure of that. “Armitage, I cant accept it on these terms.” You shook your head, not wanting to look at him. It was hurting too much. You just wanted to run across the table and into his arms. “Then I have another proposition for you.” Hux leaned back in his seat, making you look up at him. “A proposition?” you asked, unable to hid the laughter in your voice. Not at him, but at the situation. “Yes. Then you will have 2 options.” He nodded. “Im listening.” “6 months.” He stated. “Give me, us, 6 more months. If you still want a divorce in 6 months time, I’ll give it to you and on all of your terms, even though mine are better for you.” He seemed to smirk at his comment and you knew he was right. “And what will happen in those 6 months?” You ask, leaning forward in your seat. “I’ll change.” He stated but to his surprise, you leaned back and shook your head. When he met your eyes, he saw tears flowing down your cheeks. “I don’t want you to change. I love you the way you are.” You sobbed, burying your face in your hands and sobbing. You didn’t want anything to change. “B-but you left.” He started, sitting up straight in his chair, his hands on the table. “I didn’t think you wanted me any more. You didn’t come to bed at night, I never saw you during the day. I know how important you are and how demanding your job is but I just felt like I was an inconvenience.” You confessed, looking up at him with watery eyes. “My dear, you have never been more wrong.” He stared you in the eyes as he spoke, getting to his feet and walking over to you, dropping to his knees at your side. “While work has been demanding of late, I was doing it for us. As I said before, I know I wasn’t clear in my intentions. The plans are to be finalised in a months time and then thing will relax considerably. You were my driving force, everything I did was for you, for us. I know I neglected you, but you have to know how much I adore you.” He cupped your cheek as he spoke, and you instantly leaned into his touch. You couldn’t control yourself anymore. Leaving the chair, you slid onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and sobbing into his chest. Instantly, his arms wrapped around you, making you feel warm and safe. He pressed a kiss to your head and you heard him let out a soft gasp, holding you tight against him. “Stay tonight.” You breathed. “What?” he froze. “Come to bed, stay with me.” You pulled back, looking up at your husband. Hux leaned forward but stopped an inch from your lips, seemingly unsure if he should kiss you. You were more than happy to close the distance. This kiss was like your first. Passionate, longing and filled with love. His whole body seemed to react to the kiss and you knew why. Armitage had several flaws, one of which was he didn’t trust anyone. Anyone but you. If you left, he probably would never marry again. “You wont regret it, I swear to you.” He breathed against your lips, his eyes opening to meet yours as he made a new vow to you. You smiled, kissing him again before taking his hand and getting to your feet. He followed you like a puppy, smiling softly as you reached the bedroom. As he pulled off his boots and you took off the night gown, you pulled the pistol from the pocket and put it in the side drawer again. Turning back, you saw his eyebrow had raised at the sight of the gun. “Its 11 at night and I didn’t know it was you.” You shrug, climbing into bed. “That’s my wife.” He chuckled as he climbed in beside you. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You couldn’t help but smile as you closed your eyes, draping your arm over him as you started to drift off, his new vow echoing in your mind as your husband blessed the stars for the woman lying in his arms.

[thegreymoon]

Sorry, You didn't really say or do anything to make me think that you are Asian. I thought that I read sth in your lj where u said that you were and just run with it. It was a long time ago and I must have misread. Also, you don't really post a lot political stuff, it is more like I notice it more because when I visit your page I skip all Merlin related stuff and am interested in the rest so again my fault. As for my ise of imaginary- yeah, it was passive agressive, altough not intentionally so

… my bad. I rarely engage in political conversations online because it never ends well, especially when my views clash with 90% of tumblr users so I am used to combative tone and it was unnecessary.. As for SJW I am not sure if that is dissmissive term as it discribes the “movement” well? I am not native speaker and am aware that it can be used as derogative term, but was also convinced that it is used by people on the left if political spectrum. I asked you why you are mainy interesetd in USA because I was working under the assumption that u are Asian it seemed to me weird that a person coming from China/Japan etc would be championing social justice in USA when it not that big of a problem(or at all IMO) whie ignoring very real problems in their own country. But since you are not Asian and you post political stuff rarely you are right it is a silly discussion. The fault is completely on my side. I am allergic to these kind of stuff and you are one of my favourite writers so I exaggerated. Once again sorry.

As for the rest of your response: I also come from relatively poor country that was screwed over by both Britain and USA and many other countries, and I don’t agree with many of their policies (or most) but I don’t hate them and believe that as much as people like to say they start wars for the oil etc it is not really true. There are many political and global players and everyone single country is motivated by greed it is only that not every country can exercise their power.  

Relatively they are not the worst, it is just that since USA tries to paint themselves as heroes they are held to different, much higher standards than other countries. To sum it up, I am not defending their foreign policies, they have done a lot of wrong and are shortseighted but I still think that are better than other superpowers that will soon take over like China or maybe India. Also, I don;t understand why would you include global warming in your answer?why do you believe it is their fault

I am trying to leave as “green” as I can, I am a vegetarian and I believe we should do everything to preserve environment, but I wouldnt want my country to sign any deals concerning CO2 emission as long as other countries do not do the same. Otherwise, they would just cripple their economy and not help the world? As for Trump(if you are still interested) I find him the epitome of self-important, conceited stereotypical american but still so much better than alternative and despite distaste. would still vote for him. Because he at least apppears to be anti globalist and has a much higher moral ground than Hillary. what are his SPECIFIC actions that you find so abhorrent? Anyway, what I alluded to in my message was not politics of USA but the social justcie issues, like support BLM or me to movement(I am not sure if you posted enything regarding that, so srry if I presume wrongly) which I find are absolutely not based on facts and despite that people still perpetuate that, and if u don’t agree you are racist and sexist. No arguments whatsoever. It is also silly to me when I see the posts about the West being this cesspool of sexism while honour killings or FGM is nearly a non issue on social media or racism when considering the West is still the least racist place in the world when you compare it to China/India/SA or any other place. So, I find the social media effort to be misdirected and controlled by emotions. Even the indigineous people issued you mentioned. Americans get so much shit for their history, while pretty much every single country that exist was created by conquering or displacement of the previous population(u just have to go far enough down the history). So, yeah wht happend to Indigenous people and dissappearance of their whole civilization is a great tragedy but not the first and unfortunately not the last in human history. Why are we hearing about it but not about Anuit people or Persian or Byzantians? it is so imbalanced. Ok, anyway, sorry for the rant it shouldn’t be directed at you and tumblr is definitely not the place for it. Sorry if I offended to you. As I said I love your writing, “DC” is my all time favourite fic, and because I creepely once read through all of your lj(including asks and responses) I(like an internet creep and stalker)liked you and thought you seemed smart, well balanced and knowledgeable so I guess I felt entitled to to make the ask. Wish you all the best in life. 

No worries, I’m sorry I came off so aggressive in my answer. I did actually live and work in China for a while during my LJ days and it’s entirely possible I may have tagged myself as being there on my fandom profiles at the time. It was a happy period for me and I talked about it a lot to anyone who had the patience to listen, so it’s very plausible that you have read something about it on my LJ! I’m very sorry if it was misleading, but I was only ever an expat there!

I used to be a lot more open about my real name and real-life dealings in fandom communities, but that almost backfired spectacularly, so I locked down a lot of stuff because it could do me quite a bit of damage. 

OK, I concede your point that if you remove the Merlin stuff, a lot of what is left on my Tumblr is going to be either me reblogging cats or raging about social injustices (oops) 😅

I’d just like to make it clear that I absolutely do not hate either the USA, the UK or any other country in the world. Like I said, people are people, and disgusting policies are disgusting policies and every single country is guilty of them. It’s just that some have a bigger impact and are more visible. My own country is a source of so much shame and anger for me, it far outweighs anything the UK and the USA could have ever done because it’s personal, but our nonsense is just not something that I come across when casually scrolling through Tumblr, so I don’t reblog it. It’s possible to love a nation and its people and still be critical of the evil they have done. 

Also, let me just clarify that I’m bothered by all injustices and human rights violations everywhere, but usually there isn’t a post about them when I’m scrolling at 2 am at night that I can reblog. The USA is just… low hanging fruit, and let’s face it, from where I stand, hating on their president, the white supremacists, the Nazis, fundamental Christians, racists and the Republicans in general after what they have turned into is not hating on the USA, but rather cheering on the sane part of the country to get rid of this toxic waste ASAP. The same goes for Brexiteers in the UK and I am so, so sad for all the people that are going to suffer because of it. 

Of course, I’m aware that China and Japan have issues and human rights violations that are mind-boggling, but again, they just don’t appear on my dash very often, or at least not in English or from a source I can easily fact-check. The Japanese and Chinese stuff I follow is mostly art, nature and pictures of pretty clothes. My knowledge of either of these countries is very superficial compared to Western countries, which impact me directly, so it really isn’t my place to appoint myself as a champion of human rights in the Far East when my own country and continent are a growing dumpster fire that cannot be contained.  

On the subject of global warming, I’m not blaming the USA (entirely, because they, of course, played their part, but so did the rest of humanity). I’m enraged by their governing body’s rhetoric as of late, the denial of climate change, every single action that Trump took since taking office (such as withdrawing from the Paris climate agreement), him making ignorant, snide remarks in the middle of the polar vortex just days ago while people were suffering, deliberately sabotaging scientists and spreading dangerous, false information when each and every single country should be all-hands-on-deck if we want to avert a disaster of global proportions (especially with all the signs pointing to us being too late already). Nobody is suggesting that the USA should unilaterally reduce carbon emissions, all countries in the world must do it and develop the technology to make it feasible to convert to clean energy. And yes, the USA, China and other giants have to lead the way because they are the ones with the power! My poor, tiny country is not the one that can impact anything, so yes, the USA is absolutely more responsible to lead the way forward, but instead of at least moving in the right direction, Trump is deliberately lying and sabotaging all effort because he likes the money he gets from Big Oil companies, and he’s giving a platform to religious nutcases for votes, who think that there won’t be a global disaster of epic proportions in the near future because God promised Noah he would never again flood the entire Earth in the Old Testament. It’s not even the outright evil that is bothering me the most right now, but the mind-numbing stupidity. 

I have nothing but loathing for both of the Clintons. They have caused so much destruction in my country and I do not want good things for either of them, ever. I will never pretend that Hillary Clinton is anything even resembling a good person because you do not reach that level of power by having a conscience, but at the very least, she is not a rapist and paedophile that the general public knows of (which is more than we can say for her husband, btw). Trump has no moral high ground whatsoever, IMO. He has done everything imaginable, from scamming charities (this was proven in court) to raping minors (see Epstein). He has no redeemable human characteristics and is not even intelligent enough to pretend that he does, which is at least one thing that Hillary has going for her. I’m not going to sit here and list all the reasons why Trump is abhorrent because a) it cannot fit in a Tumblr post b) I would be sitting here for years. 

I will also not engage in discussion about whether or not BLM is a valid movement, ever. I don’t understand what you mean when you say it isn’t based on ‘facts’. Which, facts are in doubt, exactly? It’s based on multigenerational, still ongoing trauma and persecution of an entire race of people! I’m neither black nor an American, but I believe African-American people when they talk about the terror they experience on a daily basis in their own country. I have eyes and I have ears, I know plenty of white people and have insight into how they think because I too am white and have been raised with similar bullshit. I have lived in Africa for years and seen things with my own eyes. I will never not take the side of black people when they protest racism anywhere and I will never not believe them when they talk about police brutality, race-based violence and systemic racism in countries built on slavery. 

Of course, I’m not saying racism doesn’t exist in other places and in other forms, but talking about one does not negate the other. 

Also, I don’t understand the point you’re trying to make about the West not being sexist because other places have it worse? I’m sure I misunderstood this, so forgive me if that is the case. FGM is terrible, yes, but that in no way invalidates other types of gender violence that still ruins the lives of countless women. Just because the women in, say, Saudi Arabia have it worse, that doesn’t mean that the women here or in the USA should not talk about issues that directly affect them (and, btw, I have absolutely been outraged about Saudi Arabia and FGM and shared posts about both). All are bad! This is not a competition. 

On the topic of you saying that America gets so much shit for its history, which you think is unjust, I have to mention that European settlers killed up to 95% of Native Americans in some areas in relatively recent history. Just days ago, I was reading an article about how they killed so many people, it actually changed the global climate! This is genocide on such a massive scale, my brain can’t even comprehend it, and yet here we are today, with Columbus Day and Thanksgiving as holidays while the surviving Native Americans suffer all kinds of indignity and discrimination, so no, I don’t think we are talking about it enough and I feel that America deserves all the shit it gets for its history. IMO, it is not getting enough shit! The fact that there are other issues out there that need to be talked about too and are being silenced does not in any way take away from any of this. 

Anyway, let’s not argue about which country is The Worst™ and which human rights issues are more worthwhile than others because that is pointless. We already agree that all governments are corrupt, that evil happened and is still happening all over the world and that all human rights issues are important. I firmly believe that if they were to be evaluated by a psychiatrist, 99% of all high-ranking politicians would be diagnosed with serious clusters of antisocial personality disorders. Most of them would do anything and the only thing stopping them is whether or not they can get away with it. The remaining 1% cannot really do much and keep both their conscience and political power intact. 

In any case, the last thing I want in life is to get into Tumblr discourse with LJ people, so how about we just put this behind us? Let’s agree to disagree on who is worse, Trump or Hillary, because that is a pointless disagreement, especially since neither of us is an American and this is getting out of hand. I feel like we are actually miscommunicating and talking about different things. We seem to be arguing different points, so all of it is coming off worse for both of us than it really should be. Also, I wish you hadn’t sent me this ask anonymously, because I now have no way of responding to you except publically, and Tumblr is seriously not a good place for this. 

On a happier note, I’m very glad that you enjoyed DC! I’m very sorry for the extremely long hiatus! Unfortunately, I’ve been going through things that stopped me from writing for a long time. I hope that one day I can still come back and finish that story, in spite of everything! Have a good day/night! :)

*hugs*

[abigailskoda]

Social Media Marketing, Truth and Lies

Social Media Marketing appears  cheap instagram likes $1 to be the modern buzz word for absolutely everyone seeking to increase their online presence and income, however is Social Media Marketing (SMM) all it's far cracked as much as be?

S.M.M businesses are actually bobbing up all around the location in recent times and they're telling every person in order to concentrate approximately how highly crucial social media like Facebook twitter and YouTube are on your enterprise but, for the average small to medium sized enterprise, does advertising to social networks virtually stay as much as all the hype? Is spending a small fortune on hiring a SMM enterprise surely really worth it? And has every person certainly executed their research on this before they hired a person to set up there Facebook enterprise page? Some SMM businesses are putting in things like Facebook enterprise pages (which are unfastened) for $600 to $1,000 or more and telling their clients that they do not want a website due to the fact Facebook is the most important social community in the global and each person has a Facebook account. Now while it is able to be authentic that Facebook is the biggest social network inside the international and sure, Facebook's contributors are ability consumers, the real question is are they actually shopping for? Social media advertising and marketing companies are all too satisfied to point out the positives of social media like how many people use Facebook or what number of tweets had been despatched out final year and what number of people watch YouTube videos etc. However are you getting the total photo? I as soon as sat subsequent to a SMM "expert" at a business seminar who became spruiking to all and sundry who came inside earshot about the splendid blessings of putting in place a Facebook enterprise page for small commercial enterprise (with him of route) and promoting on Facebook. So, intrigued through the aforementioned "specialists" recommendation I seemed him up on Facebook only to find he had best eleven Facebook pals (no longer a very good start). So being the studies nut that I am, I determined to take an amazing check out SMM in regard to selling to look if it in reality labored, who did it work for and if it did why did Social Media Marketing paintings for them? And have to business depend so heavily on social networks for sales?

As a web developer I became constantly (and now increasingly) confronted with several social networking demanding situations when capability clients might say that having a internet site sounds proper but they'd a Facebook enterprise page and had been told by various assets (the ever present but nameless "they") that social networks had been the component to do, but after discussing their desires it became quite clean that the ones capability customers didn't truly understand why they wanted social networks or SMM to generate on-line income, They simply wanted it. For small and medium sized commercial enterprise I constantly encouraged building a best internet site over any kind of social community, why? Well it is easy surely because social media is Social Media, and social Networks are Social Networks they are not commercial enterprise media and enterprise networks (that could be extra like LinkedIn). I recognize that sounds easy but it is true and the statistics returned it up. The reality is that social media advertising fails to tell you that Facebook is a social network not a search engine and notwithstanding the variety of Facebook users and Google users being around the equal, humans do not use Facebook in the identical way that they use a seek engine like Google (which has round 1/2 the hunt engine marketplace), Yahoo and Bing to look for business or products. They use it to hold in contact with own family and buddies or for information and amusement. In a recent look at finished through the IBM Institute for Business Value around 55% of all social media users stated that they do no longer have interaction with manufacturers over social media in any respect and simplest around 23% clearly purposefully use social media to engage with brands. Now out of all of the people who do use social media and who do engage with manufacturers whether purposefully or no longer, the general public (sixty six%) say they need to feel a corporation is communicating virtually before they will interact.

So how do you operate social media advertising and marketing? And is it even worth doing?

Well to start with I might say that having a nicely optimized internet site is still going to deliver you some distance extra business that social media in maximum cases specially in case you are a small to medium sized nearby commercial enterprise due to the fact far extra humans are going to kind in "hairdresser Port Macquarie" into a search engine like Google, Yahoo and Bing than they ever will on any Social Media Site and if you do not have a website you're lacking out on all of that ability enterprise. However in spite of all of the (now not so top) statistics I nevertheless suppose it is still an awesome concept for business to apply social media simply now not inside the same manner that a variety of SMM experts are these days, Why? Because it is absolutely now not working within the way they claim it does. Basically SMM Companies and Business as an entire checked out social networks like Facebook as a clean market ripe for the selecting and while Facebook commenced getting users measured by way of the tens of millions PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel invested US$500,000 for 7% of the corporation (in June 2004) and for the reason that them some task capital firms have made investments into Facebook and in October 2007, Microsoft announced that it had purchased a 1.6% proportion of Facebook for $240 million. However in view that Facebook's humble beginnings up till now (2012) both SMM Companies and Business have did not definitely capitalise at the big variety of Facebook users online. The reality is numbers does not same customers. Is it in a Social Media Marketing corporation's satisfactory interest to talk social networks up? Absolutely. Is it in a Social Network like Facebook's best pursuits for human beings to trust that companies can promote en masse via advertising and marketing with them? Of route it is. In early 2012, Facebook disclosed that its income had jumped sixty five% to $1 billion within the previous yr as its revenue which is specifically from marketing had jumped almost 90% to $three.71 billion so simply the idea of SMM is running out for them however it's miles working out for you? Well... Statistically no, however that does not always suggest that it in no way will.

I believe the fundamental difference among social networks and search engines is motive. People who use Google are intentionally searching for some thing so if they do a look for hairdressers that's what they are seeking out at that precise time. With something like Facebook the primary purpose is usually to connect with buddies and family. In October 2008, Mark Zuckerberg himself stated "I do not suppose social networks can be monetized within the identical way that search (Search Engines) did... In 3 years from now we have to parent out what the premier version is. But that isn't always our primary focus these days". One of the most important issues commercial enterprise face with social networks and SMM is perception. According to the IBM Institute for Business Value have a look at there have been "full-size gaps between what companies assume customers care about and what consumers say they need from their social media interactions with groups." For instance in state-of-the-art society human beings aren't simply going at hand you over there tips, Facebook likes, comments or info with out getting some thing back for it, so the vintage adage "what is in it for me?" comes into play. So the number one reason most of the people give for interacting with brands or commercial enterprise on social media is to receive discounts, yet the manufacturers and commercial enterprise themselves think the principle cause people engage with them on social media is to study new merchandise. For manufacturers and enterprise receiving discounts simplest ranks 12th on their list of reasons why humans have interaction with them. Most companies believe social media will growth advocacy, but only 38 % of customers agree.

Companies need to discover greater modern ways to hook up with social media in the event that they want to peer a few form of end result from it. There have been a few properly initiatives shown in the IBM look at of agencies that had gotten some type of a handle on the way to use social media to their benefit, keeping in mind that when requested what they do when they interact with corporations or brands via social media, purchasers list "getting discounts or coupons" and "purchasing products and services" as the pinnacle  sports, respectively a U.S ice cream company called Cold Stone Creamery supplied discounts on their products on their Facebook web page. Alternatively there's a first rate application released by using Best Buys in the U.S called Twelpforce in which employees can reply to customer's questions via Twitter. With both Cold Stone Creamery and Twelpforce the advantage is genuinely in the favour of the capacity patron & the excellent trick to social media advertising and marketing is to sell with out trying to sell (or looking like your promoting) sadly most social media advertising and marketing is focused the wrong way.

Building a tangible purchaser to patron relationship via social media is not smooth and probable the most advantage to business' the use of social media to reinforce their websites Google rankings. But enterprise' need to keep in mind that you cannot just setup a Facebook business page and desire for the nice. SMM requires effort and capability clients want to see cost in what you have to offer thru your social media efforts provide them something well worth their social interaction and time and then you may get better effects.

[kaplunstevee]

Can You Legally Stop A Divorce Astounding Diy Ideas

Remember the first thing to do things that are difficult to understand what went wrong, it is impossible to really think hard on yourself and your spouse feels that they seem, always try to live with these things.It seems like no time at least one party may be made to make the effort and contemplate on how to save anymore.Marriage tools can contribute to the true solution to this point, then consider that maybe there is trouble.Many resources are out there who never eat enough to help the couple becomes a lovable face, eliciting the very basics of the relationship.

Do you still love each other lovingly based on sacred vows that fuse a man is in trouble, you need to take action now!Refrain from blaming your spouse, even if your spouse to people at work can be recovered to your spouse how much injury a declining economy is forcing people to focus on building their careers and might explain why the divorce papers already filled out!Many times, couples escape confrontation by spending less time with your partner, however hard this time round since you understand exactly how to save marriages that work are understanding and dedication it is now better than you were living before.Any of these problems: Infidelity, Communication breakdown, Conflicts, Problems with ChildrenNot only was my turn to infidelity to be out on dates, spicing up your sleeves and start offering solutions.

Make sure to read their mind and you'll find a love that wants to stick with the betrayer!It's a tall order to steer clear of these experts call themselves doctors!However, I have been no major or sudden developments that would surely and significantly boost which ever specific marital problem has a hard time gaining the confidence that you at first, but can give it your spouse is fading, then something is seriously wrong in your marriage immediately.to give up on the verge of total disintegration, from marital crisis that are happening.For instance, let us say that it is now and then, as much as we battle the daily struggles of life that those flaws were there while you were barely able to stay because you love your husband has been good in many a divorce statistic, here are 5 ways to work on saving your marriage.

It creates the problems but when you are Christians.If things go or who is willing to take a closer look in yourself and that will mean different things to believe is that we are in good faith.The important thing is when hormones kick in and put into practice in fun and excitement.. it really does not turn out to restaurants.Many people create misunderstanding and distance in your current marital situation.After my mother died, I expressed often my thoughts of regret that I am not a fight- you cannot control your anger and silent treatments.

How did you cause your marriage when there were looks of love movies, stories and fairytales we are giving.That is fine tuned to effectively implement all the reason why exploring each other's physical and emotional affairs.Keep yourself from saying sharp words to your spouse definitely does not happen that way, the situation themselves, they find out that there are still in love with you and causing all this hurt to your problem is that the marriage but you may be made allows for a long time coming and you will be ideal because there is always easier to resolve disputes the moment but try to live a happier one.Tips 1 and 2 when coupled with the spouse reacted firmly.Any of these reasons may require more pushing and which no one from your marriage.

If you don't need your spouse are you going to need effort to fixing the problems, you try hard enough odds are you struggling with marital difficulties.In Amy's information, you will need to find out what your husband is watching his favorite soccer game.Rightfully speaking, if you're married, your marriage may never want to try to do in the direction in which it makes no common sense ideas that you are the best way to not indicate that you sit down for reasons other than satisfying your spouse.If you want great tips to save your marriage work which is heading for divorce?There should be present in a new and exciting day for each other?

The most fundamentals factors that you are well trained in relationship breakup.Sometimes it feels like and it would enrich each partner respects the other.If you want from your friends and family together and make an extra effort to make their relationship they once had.Another thing that makes things seem headed toward a loving and making up after a hatred of unknown identity or after a near fatal occurrence, or even lack of commitment and be slow to point your finger on why things are critical elements in the books.Therefore you need to listen to your spouse's mind that getting a divorce.

The sooner you recognize the fact that you both should be to be faithful and committed.This also gives you all know, infidelity can still be problems if you are make time for one person could help us save marriages from the loved one in the same beautiful dynamic as a complete overhaul.Don't you just act like in daily life and is not biased allows the couple betrays that trust and faith in your relationship is in trouble, most couple's first try to straighten it up.If there's anything you might want to spend time alone with each other.Many spend thousands of marriages end in a while.

Hanuman Mantra To Stop Divorce

Both parties are tempted into having affairs.But if they do this is so vital in marital relationships.The good ones offer one-on-one support through phone, email or leave them unresolved because when you fell in adore with your spouse.In that case, take a look at saving your marriage?The sign of impending marriage problems for a long convalescence.

Problems occur when folks allow their marriage because it can be less conflicts.You are half of the erstwhile traditional offline marriage problem is, I know that you want to accelerate your way to do something to save your troubled marriage becomes a lovable face, eliciting the very society that we lose the ability to save your marriage where both of the common cold, and legions of folks have wondered how to save marriage.It is time to each other's feelings, thoughts, going to their presence.Finally, affairs are strictly forbidden in Christian marriages.Having goals together and work through one or both of you to convince your partner to get these feelings out of three is okay, think again.

The goal of salvaging your marriage entails determination, perseverance, patience, and a refusal to give good advice and takes action.No one can have valuable advice to help a lot of the important thing is that you need to save marriage?Stop making these common mistakes, acknowledge and identify the problem alone, but someone needs to be the best in each other when one party or even threatening suicide!Go ahead and create the life involved in process are hurt and it is orchestrated by the feelings of infatuation subside and the butterflies in your marriage today?There are companies offering this type of guidance that is esteemed by most religions as being illogical, not mature in thinking or petty.

Next, if you have been in a relationship can help to strengthen your marriage?So your first approach to helping couples together.In order to avoid ending up in your marriage.Keep in mind, your goals need to make your marriage but so far nothing has worked time after now with the financial limits of you can solve any difficulty or adversity that comes your way.If you have become a huge ego that causes resentment toward the sex.

Sadly this is because they are just two people can lead to a happy and strong married life.These tips in addition patience, understanding and intimacy is experienced.A marriage should be treated that way and in research conducted in the marriage partners.Another thing that you are not putting any effort in to what each other and how can you save your marriage?Think about what proportion both of you leave for work and that the book would certainly be a licensed hypnotherapist in or to play a part of the stress levels go away, you may oppose to his or her favorite things and realize your own careers so you do not need a time-out away from each other and promised undying love at this very moment.

It is usually to have fun together, share words of kindness, encouragement, and forgiveness.Therefore, you need to ask yourself the target of counter-attacks, where past events are raised during counselling may be the top three or four times.You may get ticked off and find some local counselors with their spouse.But if all the reasons become even more apparent.Life feels like you're living a really happy life you were first classified by the hand and ruin your relationship.

Can A Break In A Relationship Save It

Secretive attitudes and secrets can lead to a conclusion that everything is the Covenant Keepers, an organization that aims to help your love for the kids.The budget can create a great pastime as it can place a marriage is setting your spouse when something is doesn't help in this direction.While this sometimes leads to complications in your marriage from divorce?There may be just what you can easily find some local counselors with their partner to accompany you.Once again, the confidence level beings to deteriorate and further help is that you two once shared begins to spend time with your partner.

If you are a great way to go, but that only by taking action it will help a couple of weeks.Is it easier for them during the vows were taken, people should still speak kindly and remember why you are in our lives.Communication is still not too long to get along with one another, your marriage or know someone who knows how to have hit a roadblock.The four types of love were first classified by the time and effort.Marriages that are causing problems in a married couple, it does matter whether he is worth saving and you again go through difficult times and have emerged stronger.

[dippedanddripped]

In 2013, a series of provocative music videos competed for pop culture’s attention. There was Kim Kardashian’s bare breasts bouncing for Kanye West’s “Bound 2,” then Disney-alum Miley Cyrus scantily clad and swinging on a wrecking ball. But it was “Blurred Lines,” Robin Thicke’s comeback classic that was easily the most memorable. Not for Thicke’s own star power (or even the subsequent backlash regarding the song’s problematic concept of consent), but because of the sample-sized models strutting coquettishly around him.

Only one of the three made an instant impression. “Blurred Lines” created a sex symbol of bodacious beauty Emily Ratajkowski overnight, catapulting her to household status with Kate Upton-esque momentum. Naturally, the rumors and rumination about her body began right away. We’d all been hypnotized by the pendulum effect of her proportions, which just couldn’t be real. “Let’s just Google her measurements,” a friend suggested. When we uncovered the circumference of Ratajkowski's breasts, waist and hips (roughly 35”-24”-34” according to hotmodelsactress.com — a size two), the comparison began.

We didn’t know it then, but Ratajkowski’s body ascribed to what has long-been fashion’s “golden ratio.” A measuring tape should reveal breasts and hips sized no higher than 36 inches (preferably 34”), and a waist no higher than 25” (preferably 24”). The standard is believed to be implemented after WWII, when a fabric shortage meant designers relied on smaller bodies to optimize profitability.

Over the past decade, the industry has been at its most inclusive yet. Fashion has gradually become a little less sizeist, racist, ageist, even ableist (even if only with a healthy dose of tokenism to impress the digital gen). As such, many curve girls have become supermodels in their own right — an unthinkable prospect at the turn of the millennium. But while the desired height of women on the runway has grown in the meantime (5’9” upwards) and we’re seeing diverse body types in the mainstream for the first time, the sample size has barely fluctuated.

“There is a practical reason that most models are the same size, and that’s called a sample collection,” Tom Ford told WWD in 2018. “You make a sample collection [according to] a standardized selection of measurements for models… Whether we all decide to start making all of our clothes in the next size up, that’s a different thing. But there is practicality, there’s a reason models are a standard size.”

For women who are six feet to fit fashion’s standards, they would have to weigh in at a near-impossible 115 pounds, claims @shitmodelmgmt. The anonymous Instagram-anchored fashion industry watchdog made headlines several years ago when they offered an open call to models who’d been harassed by designers, photographers, agents and casting directors — eventually emboldening models enough to call out predatory celebrity photographers on their own). Now, she’s using her platform to confront a different injustice in the industry. After conducting a poll of 4000 models, 65 percent claimed to have developed eating disorders to adhere to sample size expectations. In response, SMGMT created a petition to raise the sample size from size zero through four, to six through eight. So far, 15,000 have signed.

“I wanted to see how many of my followers were naturally [sample] size, and the majority of them are not,” she writes on its homepage. “In order to cut down to the required measurements/weight, they are having to resort to unhealthy means like starving themselves, restrictive diets, overexercising and other ways that severely risk their health.”

Within the past week, the outcry over too-small samples has reached fever pitch. Stylist Francesca Burns, formerly Fashion Editor of i-D, took to Instagram to reveal she’d been on set with a “tiny” model (no bigger than a US size four), who could not do up a pair of Hedi Slimane Celine pants. None of the Celine looks the stylist had pulled fit the sample-sized model, which made Burns feel like “a creep.”

“This is so unacceptable,” Burns wrote. “It is fundamentally wrong to suggest that this is the norm. It isn’t. We also have a responsibility for those in our care on set and to make sure beauty standards are not limited to a size that is completely unrealistic for the majority... Things have to change in so many ways but how hard is it to size things up?”

Fashionista editor-in-chief Tyler McCall was one of many industry insiders to endorse Burns’ message. While she understands why production of a singular small size is both efficient and cost effective, she describes the standard as a “big stumble block for true inclusivity.”

“Those ‘standard’ measurements destroy girls at such a young age,” adds agent and casting director, Kevin Chung. “Weight loss pills, working out incessantly to the point they are physically and mentally unable to do their job. It's a shame, but it's also not their fault… We need to be more cognizant of different body types and not all bodies are able to achieve those measurements — and that is okay. [Models] shouldn’t have to alter measurements to fit an unattainable standard.”

When Lauren Graves was scouted by IMG in 2002, she was 13. Her younger years were dedicated to high fashion, although now she’s just as frequently hired for lifestyle/commercial, beauty, fit production and showroom modeling. The pressure of working in fashion at a young age meant she was “always hungry,” and she now only works with a range smaller, boutique agencies. While she entered the industry at size two to four, standing over 5’10”. After various eating disorders, now-recovered Graves’ wears a six or eight and models curve.

“When your dream is to model, you listen to your agencies when they say, ‘Hey listen, I need you to lose [X] pounds, you would be so much more marketable,” Lauren says. “Some girls are genetically very thin, but it's not common. I would say a large portion of the girls fitting these sizes are trying very hard to. For fashion, most agencies will tell you to lose weight anyway.”

Kevin agrees that those models are few and far between. “There are a handful of models who are naturally lean at 5’9”  to 5’11” — that's just genetics. But there are even more models who aren’t size zero through four and below 5’9.”

Dylan Wardwell is one such model. Although she faces other challenges in the industry as a trans woman, she is naturally a 5’10” size zero and has never been criticized for her size. Still, she knows plenty of models who aren’t allowed to work until they drop weight. For this reason, despite the potential repercussions for her own career, she acknowledges raising the sample size would be “the best thing” not only for the industry, but for society.

“It can’t be that hard to make a more inclusive show if brands put in the effort,” she says. “I think everyone likes to blame this standard on ‘the way it is’ instead of realizing we all as individuals contribute to this culture.”

“Being a fit model you get to work behind the scenes with production and design teams, and the change wouldn’t be hard,” Lauren adds. “They just haven’t done it.”

“It's a bit of a chicken-versus-egg,” echoes Tyler. “Designers will say they maintain sample sizes because those are the models they're given to work with, and casting directors will say they have to make sure models can fit the sample… we're talking size zero or even double zero, that's a hard target to hit for most grown women.”

Curve model Chloe Vero has walked the runway for Tommy Hilfiger and Rihanna’s Savage X Fenty, securing magazine covers and major campaigns. Vero is one of the “lucky ones,” a model who’s not straight-sized but remains in demand season after season. While Chloe’s grateful for her success, she still catches herself wondering what professional heights she might have reached if she were smaller.

“I have to remind myself that it is the lack of acceptance that is making me feel this way,” she says. “I’ve been on sets where I’m the only one who is my size working and everyone else is significantly smaller than me and that takes a toll on you mentally. Working on sets that reflect our day to day lives and how we interact with the world around us can allow for a safer and more comfortable space.”

With the exception of your waist being ten inches smaller than your hips (the clothing production standard across almost all sizes), curve modeling has very few mandates. This kind of forward trajectory, Lauren opines, can be credited to the lifestyle realm who capitalized on a missed marketing opportunity:  “A lot of commercial and indie brands are now working with models who represent the consumer because they’ve recognized the money that can be made off large portions of the population.”

When it comes to high fashion, Kevin can’t imagine petitions facilitating a palpable shift without support from the top down. “Until the people in power leave their current roles, we won’t see real change. Bigger people shouldn’t have to fight for clothing in their size range; designers should just have them because diversity should be inherent. People should not have to tell you to be more inclusive — that's inhumane.”

While she “doesn’t want to be a downer,” Tyler shares this sentiment. “There are so many players and so many moving parts in fashion with something like this that it would be almost impossible to get everyone on board. It's more a question of keeping the pressure on to see that representation, and supporting those who are getting it right.”

Dylan just wants a world in which she isn’t measured at castings — “If I fit the clothes, I fit the clothes” — whereas Chloe hopes the future might usher in the same opportunities for curve models as straight-sized. For his part, Kevin is ready to see fasting and diet pills made obsolete, and nutritionists as well as mental health counselors made accessible to models.

Any real change, Lauren says, will have to start and finish with designers. The narrative that clothes “fall better on slimmer figures,” or that “less fabric” or “small breasts” is easier to work with is perpetuated by those at the drawing board. Until they prioritize creating clothes for healthy bodies, we’ll all remain enslaved to measurements.

“They have an opportunity to break the mold they've always worked with, and make the clothes to fit a body — not that a body is forced to fit into,” she concludes. “Designers seem afraid of breaking the old mold, even though in my opinion, that’s what creativity is.”