#exception would be generation loss i guess

[flunkett]

ive noticed i favour animated shows/movies over live action. Brandon rogers was an exception and will not be counted.

[mcmansionhell]

namesake mcmansion

Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)

As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.

Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.

I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.

Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.

I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.

This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.

Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.

Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)

I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:

Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?

Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.

Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[peppermintbutch]

Of course my gender crisis moment hits when I need to finish writing a fucking thesis TONIGHT

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

baby steps. l Joel Miller

Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols

Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!

The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 

Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.

Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.

"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.

"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.

Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"

A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."

Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?

It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 

You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 

The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.

You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.

After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."

"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."

The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."

Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."

"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"

The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"

He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.

"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."

"I saw. Good thoughts?"

Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 

You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.

"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.

"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."

You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.

"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"

"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."

"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"

"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"

Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."

You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."

You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.

Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 

Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.

"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."

"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."

"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"

"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"

"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.

When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."

Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.

"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."

"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.

"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."

But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.

"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."

That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.

"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."

No answer.

"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.

"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."

"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."

"Maybe I'm sick?"

"You don't seem to be."

And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 

Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.

"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"

"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."

"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."

About me.

Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.

"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."

"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"

You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.

"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."

Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."

He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.

"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.

"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.

You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."

Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.

"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."

"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.

A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."

He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.

"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."

Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 

"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."

"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"

Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.

"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."

"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.

"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."

"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."

"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."

You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."

"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.

"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."

For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.

"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.

You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."

He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 

And then Ellie appeared.

"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."

The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.

"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."

Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.

You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.

He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.

"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.

"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.

You smiled and followed him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[tinylongwing]

Top five small birds go

PICKING ONLY 5 is CRUEL but I don't have time for 10. Species names will have the links to photo sources where applicable.

Long-tailed Manakin. They take like 4-5 years for the males to learn their dances and each year they look a little more like adults to match their experience! They are little and yet have very long tails!! And cute little caps! Very elegant tiny birds.

(Photo by me, bird handled and released on site with permits as part of MoSI, a long-running collaborative research program).

2. Wrentit. Look past the plain gray exterior, let me teach you some BIRD FACTS because these guys are basically aliens. They live in a very small part of the west coast of North America in scrub/chaparral, and we still don't really know how they got there or where their nearest relatives are or what birds they're even related to, though recently they think maybe it's parrotbills, which are otherwise mostly found in SE Asia.

During the breeding season, most female birds develop a brood patch, a section of bare skin on the belly for aiding in heat transfer to the eggs, and most male birds develop a swollen cloaca to facilitate sperm transfer. In some species where males help incubate, they also get brood patches. This is fine. Male Wrentits get brood patches. A little weird but not too crazy. Female Wrentits, however, get a swollen cloaca? Why?? Nothing else in North America does this? I don't.... understand.

Also they're cute, they have a song that's like a bouncy ball going down stairs, and males and females have slightly different songs, so even though we can't determine the sex in the hand like with normal birds, at least if they sing you can tell. Normal birds don't sing when being handled. Wrentits definitely sometimes do. I don't get it. But I love them for it.

(Photo mine, bird banded and released on site with permits as part of MAPS, a long-term research program).

3. Calliope Hummingbird. Itty bitty tiny creature, would absolutely spear you to death with its face if it thought it could pull that off. Hummingbirds in general are territorial and aggressive and these guys are no exception. Also they're beautiful. Look at that starburst of a face!

(I have photos but don't want to go dig them up, I'm lazy)

4. Java Sparrow. Help, I'm hopelessly charmed by how adorable they are. Unfortunately, apparently everyone else is too, and these are now critically endangered in their home range of Java due to habitat loss and poaching for the pet trade. The good?? news is they're also super invasive in places like Hawaii, so they're not about to go globally extinct, so that's cool, I guess.

5. Micronesian Rufous Fantail, formerly just Rufous Fantail, aka chichirika na'abak because look I don't know proper indigenous names for everything but I do for my study birds and I support their use. Chichirika is CHamoru for "showoff" and na'abak is "the one who will lead you astray", after the local stories of kids trying to follow these delightful little low-flitting creatures through the jungles and getting hopelessly lost, leading to village search parties.

Anyway, look at that tail!! Go listen to their cute little squeaks! I'm absolutely in love. I've banded literal hundreds of these and they never ever get old. Every single one of them is a treasure to me.

(Photo by me, bird banded and released on site as part of my very most beloved own tropical forest bird research program in the Northern Mariana Islands).

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE MENTOR

summary: coriolanus takes it upon himself to show you the ropes of pleasure

pairing: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, fingering, female masturbation, mention of male masturbation, breast play, talks of virginity loss, perv! coriolanus, slight cum play, corruption kink is very prominent LEAVE ME ALONE IM PREDICTABLE, MY MIND IS ROTTEN

a/n: i'm back again! didn't expect it to be so soon but alas i cannot control myself. this can be read as a stand alone or as a prequel for my other one shot ways to destress. i'm working on part 2 for ways to destress but have this while i finish it <3

requests open ✨

Coriolanus steals glances at you from his spot on the desk. You sat cross-legged on your bed, deep in thought, biting the eraser end of the pencil in your fingers. He's formulating ideas about you instead of focusing on the report he has to present to Dr. Gaul tomorrow.

It's the first time you've invited him into your family home since you became a couple four months ago, and you're all alone in the big mansion. He can't help but wonder if anything will come out of it.

Despite being in a serious relationship for four months, Coriolanus has only kissed you. Nothing more and nothing less. It was one of your conditions because he's your first boyfriend.

'Let's take things slow, Coriolanus,' you had said back then, looking at him with those puppy dog eyes you'd mastered.

You're a timid girl. It's why you've never truly had a boyfriend before. None of the other boys you've been on dates managed to coax you out of your shell enough for them to pursue the relationship, except for Coriolanus. He took his time with you, becoming your friend, gaining your trust, and finally asking you out.

It wasn't by chance that he took that route to court you. He's been watching you since you stepped into the classroom last year. The annoyance he felt about being a teaching assistant swept away as a brand new opportunity sat in front of the class like a good student.

He recognized you and the crest on the gold ring you always wear. Your family is wealthy, and they have a great reputation amongst the Capitol's elite. It would benefit him to associate himself with you and, by proxy, your family.

Coriolanus felt luck was on his side when you approached him with questions about the homework the Professor handed out. You served yourself in a silver dish platter for his hungry ambition.

One year later, he has you wrapped around his little finger.

He'd be lying if he said he doesn't have feelings for you. Just as he infiltrated your life, you infiltrated his heart. You're sweet and kind, book smart, and beautiful. He'd be a fool not to feel anything towards you.

When you groan about the essay you're supposed to write and the crease between your eyebrows deepens, Coriolanus steps in.

"It's time for a break, don't you think?" He gently asks, closing your notebook and putting it to the side.

"I guess," you sigh, looking up at him with a pout.

You've been distracting yourself from Coryo's penetrating gaze and general presence in your personal space. You had invited him with the pretense of a study date, seeing as your body asks for something else.

It's time you give Coryo more. He's been incredibly patient with you, just as you'd asked. Still, your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of him touching you like no one ever has, and the knot in your throat prevents you from saying it out loud.

Coriolanus sits on the bed with you, cupping your jaw in his hands, brushing his thumb across your cheek. You lean into his touch with a soft smile, leaning into your body's desire, and you kiss him. It's enough to spark the salacious thoughts in Coriolanus's head.

He deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue on your plump bottom lip, begging you to let him in. Just like he taught you, you open your mouth, letting his tongue lick the inside of your mouth, tasting the cherry drink you love so much.

The corners of Coriolanus's lips slightly curve upwards; he's so proud of himself and you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you, and he willingly leans into you, hugging your hips.

Finding the position mildly uncomfortable, he lifts you to straddle his lap. Immediately, you tense under his hold and pull back. It's instinctual as your thoughts suddenly surface and cause you to overthink.

"Are you alright?" Coriolanus asks you with feigned concern. He knows the reason why, but you're important to him. In his eyes, you're perfect for him, and he doesn't want to screw things up.

"I'm just nervous," you admit, diverting your gaze to his collar and fixing it.

You're tired of feeling behind in life when your friends talk about sex. You're tired of that ache inside you that you can't satiate. You're tired of pulling away each time Coryo makes any move on you when all you want is to feel his skin against yours.

It's only been a few months, but your feelings for Coriolanus Snow run deep. Many will call you a fool for falling into the claws of first love, but it's a mistake you must make on your own.

If anyone is to take your firsts, it'll be Coriolanus.

"Do you want me to stop touching you?" He asks, loosening his hold on you.

Coriolanus is ready to learn the extent of your inexperience. It's been a topic you've only briefly touched upon. Yes, you're a virgin. Has anyone touched you, though, or given you any sort of pleasure?

"No!" You exclaim too forwardly, embarrassing yourself. It spurs Coriolanus, though, as he softly grins. "I mean, no. This is okay. You can keep touching me," you say as you return his hand to its designated spot in the curve of your hips.

"Darling…" he calls, but your gaze remains on his chest as strands of hair cover your face, "Look at me."

When your eyes meet his steely blue ones, he continues, "Have you ever touched yourself?"

"Why are you asking me this?" You ask with your eyes wide and nervous.

"I just want to see how much you know and how far you want to go. I'd feel terrible if I somehow make you uncomfortable or force you into anything you don't want," he responds honestly. Keeping you close to him is his priority, and if controlling his urges is necessary, then be it.

"Oh…" you sigh. You close your eyes tightly before opening them again and responding, "Yes, I do."

"Tell me how," he says. It's not really a question but a command.

Your face burns as you disclose information that is normally private, "I, um, touch my clit."

"I see," Coriolanus nods encouragingly, squeezing your hips, "Do you think about me?" He asks teasingly, giving you a hard time.

The more he asks, the more you relax onto his body, too stuck in your head to notice.

"Sometimes," you admit with a soft smile.

Coriolanus is satisfied with your answer for now. In the future, when he asks again, he needs the answer for it to be always. He'll be halfway there by the end of the 'study date.'

"Has anybody touched you before?" It's the one question he's been most curious about.

"No," you shake your head.

Coriolanus is over the moon. His thoughts get more and more deranged with your confession as his dark side begs him to take away your innocence and corrupt you to his liking.

"Would you like me to?" He asks, grasping her jaw with two fingers to force her wandering eyes to settle on his. He hasn't even touched you properly, and you're breathing heavily. He wonders what's going on in that pretty little head of yours.

You're praising whatever god exists, thanking them for Coryo's forwardness. You don't think you could've gotten the words out otherwise.

"Yes," you answer shyly as excitement builds inside you.

With a short kiss, Coryo places you by the top of the bed, propped up by your many pillows. Your comfort is his top priority today. He wants you to come back for more, after all.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he whispers in your ear as he kisses your cheek.

Coriolanus feels your shaky breaths as he kisses down the expanse of your neck. He takes it as a good sign when you stretch it out more for him.

"Coryo," you bite back a moan when he finds your sweet spot.

He gently bites into your delicate skin, leaving a soft red mark. Coriolanus can't visibly mark you yet, or he'll cast a wrong impression on your father. So, he settles for red flowers that will disappear by morning.

His fingers expertly unbuttoned the crisp white blouse of the university's uniform. He lifts his head briefly to look at the pale pink bra that deprives him of your breasts. It's pretty and innocent, like you.

"You're beautiful, darling," he says when he spots your nervous eyes waiting for his approval.

Dipping down once more, he mouths the mounds of your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your skin. Coriolanus wraps his mouth over the cups of your bra, teasing you, introducing you to his touch.

Sitting up, he helps you shrug off the white blouse. He kisses you to distract you from his hands that wrap around you, unclasping the bra. He's pleasantly surprised with the neediness you kiss him with. Poor thing must've been wanting this for a while.

Coriolanus pushes you back down with his weight, never breaking the kiss. He slides your bra off and throws it into a corner of the room. Pulling away, he looks at your bare chest, licking his lips lustfully.

You deprive him of the sight when you insecurely cross your arms to cover yourself. It peeves Coriolanus to no end. Surely, you must know what a sight you are.

"Don't cover yourself, darling. You're beautiful," he says, grabbing one of her hands and kissing her palm.

"T-thank you," you stutter out, letting your other arm fall to the side.

Coriolanus finds it precious how polite you are to him. How compliant you act with a couple of kind words from him. That's just how he likes it.

Coriolanus begins with a simple touch. He traces a path down your neck with the pad of his finger, trailing it across your skin and up the swell of your breasts. He circles the stiffening peak of your nipple, giving it a cheeky tug.

He's happy with the moan that falls from your lips despite him barely doing anything. Taking it up another notch, he leans his head down to latch onto your nipple, the fat of your breast filling his mouth.

Coriolanus releases a moan of his own as his tongue flicks over your nipple, and you arch your back into it. However, he's unhappy with the lack of contact from you.

Reaching for one of your hands, he places it on the back of his head, urging you to touch him. This is only fun if you want to touch him as much as he wants to touch you.

One hand digs into his hair, and the other wraps around his back. Coriolanus goes back and forth between one breast and the other, incorporating new things for you. Kissing, sucking, pinching, squeezing, biting. He's confident he's made the right choice with you when you respond beautifully to one of his bites.

"Yes, Coryo, more," you whine and beg when he tugs on your nipple with his teeth. For that, he leaves a pretty purple bruise on your chest. A reward for himself.

"That's it, darling. Don't hold your pretty moans from me any longer," Coriolanus purrs, finding your red-bitten lips.

Coriolanus involuntarily ruts into you when you slip your tongue into his mouth. His girl was turning bolder by the minute; all she needed was to be touched.

No one can shake the innocence off you as you moan and widen your eyes when you feel his hard cock press into you. Coriolanus is straining against his trousers and has been for a while now. This whole situation is a fantasy come to life and it makes him throb.

He must control himself. He cares about you greatly, and with that level of care comes control. Control over himself and you. Three years ago, he failed to control himself, and he failed to control Lucy Gray. He can't afford to make the same mistake. There is more at stake now.

Realistically, Coryo has barely touched you, and you're a needy mess. There is heat coursing through your body that is settling in between your legs. Your panties stick to you with your arousal, making you fidgety.

Reminds you of your clenched thighs whenever he's near. How you've abused your clit thinking about Coriolanus and his affectionate ways that are reserved solely for you.

"Coryo, please," you beg, cupping his face in your hands.

"Tell me what you want," Coriolanus pointedly says. He enjoys your innocence, but he wants to taint it so desperately. He needs to hear you talk dirty words in his ear.

"Touch me," you say, pressing your lips against his.

Coriolanus keeps his hands firmly on your waist, not giving into your pleas until you speak clearly, "Where do you want me to touch you, darling?"

"Please, touch my-my cunt," you stutter your words as your face burns again. You hide your face in his neck, brushing your lips delicately against it.

You're the complete opposite of him. Soft when he's rough. Innocent when he's wicked. Quiet when he's outspoken. What a perfect pair you make.

You gasp when he feels you through your wet panties. Coriolanus traces up and down your covered slit, teasing you. You're moaning into his neck, his foreign touch overwhelming you.

With a kiss to your temple, Coriolanus sits up between your spread thighs. He lifts your skirt, bunching it on your middle, preferring to leave it on your body. Your center is exposed to him, the wet patch on your matching panties clearly visible to his eyes.

You watch him as he bites his lips and rubs his hands up and down your thighs. He's preparing, reminding himself to keep his shit together. If it were up to him, he'd be fucking you silly.

"Let's take these off, yeah?" Coriolanus slips your ruined panties off your legs without waiting for your response. He kisses up your ankle to your knee as he settles between your thighs.

Your thigh is next as he nears your wet center. Your arousal glistens as it clings to your pussy lips. You look down at Coryo, propped up on your elbows.

"Darling, why don't you show me how you do it?" He asks, amused.

When you make no move, he grabs your hand and places it between your legs, encouraging you, "It's just you and I."

"Okay, Coryo," you whisper.

Biting your lips, you press your middle finger on your pink pearl. It's still safely hidden between your lips. Coriolanus observes how your cunt reacts to you circling your clit. Thick clear liquid drips from your opening, and he catches how you gather some of it to spread on your reddening clit.

The closer you get to your peak, the faster you go, your index finger joining your middle finger as you broaden your movements. Your head is thrown back with whines that join the 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of your wet cunt.

Coriolanus forces himself out of his trance of seeing you play with yourself from up close. He hadn't caught himself talking you through it, speaking lewd words to make you cum. Quick as a snake, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"Coryo, no. Why'd you make me stop?" You whine, lifting your head back up.

"I'm not done with you just yet," he responds sternly, releasing your wrist. Today you'll only cum around his fingers.

"Oh?"

Coriolanus dips his finger between the lips of your cunt, gathering your arousal in his finger. He's finally touching you like you asked. He taps on your clit that's peeking out of its hood, making you lightly flinch at the suddenly burst of pleasure.

"Have you ever fingered yourself?" He shamelessly asks before he attempts to slip a finger into you.

"No, it feels uncomfortable," you respond, figuring out where this is going.

Coriolanus holds back a smile. It's like he'd won the lottery and gained this beautiful, pure creature, untouched by anyone. You're his to taint to his image so you always remember his touch.

"Will you let me give it a try?" He pretends to ask. If you say no, he'll still try to convince you.

"Mhm," you hum, "Be gentle."

"Always," Coriolanus quips, locking eyes with you.

Coriolanus coats his middle finger with your arousal before he pushes his finger in. He circles your clit to get you to relax due to your constant tense state.

"I need you to relax for me," he speaks up, kissing the inside of her thigh. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you finally soften, "There we go, princess."

Coriolanus distracts you by swiping his fingers up and down your slit, so you don't know when he plans to slip it in. Finally, his middle finger dips into your opening, parting your walls. "So fucking tight," he groans when he finds your walls want to push him right out.

You let out a shaky gasp when you feel his long finger breach your entrance. It's been years since you last tried. It doesn't hurt, to your surprise, but there is a particular feeling of your cunt accommodating his finger.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize, biting onto the back of your hand when he tentatively starts pushing his finger in and out.

"It's nothing to be sorry about. It's a good thing," he reassures you. His cock will feel so snug when he fucks you for the first time. He's hit a gold mine with you.

Your walls squeeze his finger like a vice, and he finds himself reminding you to try and relax. Carefully he pumps his finger in and out, light clicking noises coming from the wetness of his finger and your cunt.

Slowly your expression of discomfort morphs into one of pleasure, aided by his thumb on your clit. Curving his finger, Coriolanus searches for that spot inside of you. He knows he's got it when you moan out his name and fall back on the bed, grabbing an old teddy bear from your bed and biting into it. You're dripping on his hand.

It's so much he debates on adding another finger. He has to be careful, though. You're so tight, and he wishes to reserve the thin barrier of your innocence for his cock to push through. There's no doubt it'll tear with the size of his cock.

A token of that much value should be taken properly and not in a flurry of lust. Girls like you have been taught to take care of it until the right man comes along and Coriolanus is confident you feel that way toward him.

God, his cock is so fucking hard. He must be leaking pre. Desperately, Coriolanus rolls his hips on your mattress to relieve some of the tension. This is your doing, and you're not aware of how much you're torturing him.

Coriolanus tries to push his pointer finger into your cunt, but it proves difficult, especially when you flinch away and grab his wrist to stop him.

"Stop, it hurts, Coriolanus," you cry and try to wiggle away. One finger is enough for you. It's far more than you could ever do on your own.

But Coriolanus doesn't like being told what to do, and he hates it, especially when people he considers close call him by his full name.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'll be gentle, but you have to let me if you ever want to take my cock," Coriolanus reminds you sweetly.

"Promise me," you say with a blush caused by his crude words. He's right. After today, you'll surely want him to go all the way with you, and neither will have the patience to go as slowly as today.

"I promise. Here, bend your legs. It should be better." Coriolanus arranges you in such a way were your pretty cunt is fully exposed to him, spreading to reveal your pink and tight opening. He kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit. "Remember to relax."

Coriolanus starts all over again, circling your pretty clit and fucking one finger into you. Once you close your eyes, losing yourself in the pleasure, he grabs hold of your thigh to keep you in place and pushes the tip of his second finger.

He ignores your complaints and rubs your clit more furiously, subduing your pain and replacing it with toe-curling pleasure. He thrusts shallowly until your cunt gives way for him to slip the two fingers entirely.

"Good girl, see, that wasn't so bad," he says in a slightly mocking tone you don't catch.

"Thank you, Coryo," you moan as your hand reaches to the one on your thigh.

Fuck, you sure know how to feed into his ego. He's heard that phrase so many times when he helps you with your homework. How will he keep his cock in his pants when you say that to him in the university library?

He fucks you steadily with his fingers adding a little force to make your tits jiggle. You hold onto the teddy bear, moaning softly. It's so easy to tell when you're about to cum like this. Your walls squeeze him so tightly he believes you'll push him out.

"You're going to cum, darling?" Coriolanus asks you, pulling you out of your bubble.

"Yes," you sob. This orgasm feels so different from your other ones. Like it comes from deep within. Maybe it's the penetration of Coriolanus's fingers, or perhaps it's just him doing all the work that does it for you.

"Let me hear you," he spits out as he curls his fingers more, hitting the spongy spot inside of you over and over again till the sound of your juices squelching echoes in the room.

"Coryo, Coryo, Coryo," you gasp, repeating his name with a cry and holding tightly onto his free hand.

He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his fingers and hand wet with your cum. You nudge him with your foot when it's too much, your words jumbled in your tongue.

You lay limp on the bed, body flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat. Your hair sticks to your forehead, and your skirt is wrinkled and skewed on your midsection. You believe you look like an outright mess, but to Coriolanus, you couldn't look more perfect than in that moment.

As he removes his fingers from your fluttering hole, a string of cum stretches between his fingers and your cunt. Impulsively, he brings them up to his lips to taste you.

"Coryo, no, what?" You pipe up, embarrassed.

"Mmm," he hums in pleasure. He's on the verge is saying fuck it and fucking you tonight. You taste so divine he wants to get in between your pretty thighs to clean you all up, "Have you never tasted yourself?"

"No, I've never thought to," you murmur, scrunching your nose.

"You taste good," Coryo says, plunging his fingers into you again, making you whine from oversensitivity. "Try it."

Not giving you a choice, he presses his index and middle fingers to your lips. You part them slowly, dipping your head to take them into your mouth. The ring on Coriolanus's middle finger clicks against your teeth. You look at Coryo as you suck them, searching for his approval.

"Good, right?" He asks when he pulls his fingers back.

You shyly nod, surprised by your behavior. Your trust in Coryo is so immense that you don't question his actions. Anything he'd ask you would do.

Coriolanus smiles widely, cupping your face to kiss you. He's proud of you and of your progress today. He's happy to have someone to mold to his needs as well.

He's complacent at the moment, seeing you act shy, and he has no problem being delicate, either. Still, a part of him can't wait to have you in his grasp to properly bite and squeeze and spank to his desires. To have you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure along with him.

"Coryo?" You call for him as he stands from the bed. You grab his hand, pulling him back down.

"Yes, darling? Is there something wrong?" Coriolanus questions, scanning your body for any discomfort.

"I want to…" You want to touch him. His hard-on is clearly visible on his red pants, and you would be a liar if you said you weren't curious as to how it looks.

"To what…" He wonders. You point down to his crotch, where you can make out the outline of his erection. "You want to suck my cock?"

"Yes, I want to make you feel good," you nod with your puppy dog eyes, and he has to will himself to say no. It's a difficult task when you're desperate to fall into his hands.

"My darling girl, don't worry about me. We'll get around to it another day. It's late," he softly chuckles, kissing your cheek. You've run out of time, soon your parents will be home. They probably don't want to find you being fucked by your boyfriend. "I promise you can help me next time, yeah?"

"Promise," you smile.

His eyes flicker to your lips to memorize them. He'll be sure to picture them tonight when he's fucking his fist. He thinks you'll be a good little cocksucker because of the way you eagerly sucked on his fingers earlier.

If not, he'll teach you.

Who knew he'd become a mentor of sorts once again.

*sips tea* thank you for reading! i really hope you liked it!

*starts choking on blood* damn it coriolanus, not again! before i go just know i'm working on ways to destress part 2! i will be back, this is not the end! *head thumps on the table*

[geeks-universe]

The Fallen pt. 5

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Warnings: smut, idk normal apocalypse type stuff

A/N: I’m not super happy with this chapter so I’m probably gonna edit it again later

Tag List: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade @tesha-i-guess @looneylooomis @pookiesnatcher @jayden-okayden @dovefeatheredraven @angelcritterz

Sometime during the night, when there were no doubts or fear, Cooper had pulled you closer into him, his chest firmly against your back, legs tangled in a mess of warmth.

Inevitably, when the memories of your long life crept in and dragged you from your peaceful slumber, you awoke to the smell of gunpowder and blood. Cooper’s arm was tight around your middle, holding you close, like he was afraid you’d slip away during the night.

You allowed yourself a brief moment, made longer by your own indulgence, where you let yourself feel.

Long gone were your doe eyes and breathless smiles. The world you inhabited required a steel stomach and an unbendable spine. For the past two centuries you’d denied yourself that spark, the bit of yourself that always felt so much- too much.

Your heart was a traitorous thing, had always been far too bright. Once, you’d prided yourself on that, on the love for others that was just so effortless.

You doubted yourself now, thought that maybe you didn’t even know what love was. Maybe you were just a sanctimonious asshole who didn’t care about others, just wanted to ride the high of moral superiority.

It was hard to think that, to view yourself as incapable of love, when the warm, even breaths of Cooper Howard on the back of your neck pumped fire through your veins.

Could it be possible, for you to feel affection- love- for him?

There was some amount of fondness, to be sure- something in the way your heart fluttered, your eyes gravitated to him.

But love?

You’d never been in love. You had loved before, many people in your life, but not romantically.

Not the kind that would put you on your knees.

“You look lost, sister.”

Amenadiel’s voice was deep, concerned.

You heaved a sigh, rolling out of Cooper’s arms. The corners of your lips turned down at the loss of him, body protesting your isolation.

“Twice in the same year, that has to be a record.”

The amusement in your voice wasn’t matched by your brother, his dark eyes trained on the man that’d been cuddled up to you for half the night.

“You should be careful,” he cautioned you, and though he kept his stature straight, you could see the worry in the tenseness of his arms, the tightening of his jaw.

You were his baby sister. Generally angels were unconcerned with the affairs of man- more spectator than intervenor. They remained in their realm, governing over humans only after they’d lived their mortal lives.

You, Lucifer, and Amenadiel were exceptions.

Three sides of the same coin, three siblings, three realms- heaven, hell, and earth.

“Since when have you ever cared about my choices?”

It was unfair, a poisonous comment from the lips of a little girl who was still bitter about the way life turned out.

Amenadiel had visited you, more so than any sibling. Granted, you and Lucifer had been given more than just proverbial prisons. After his return to hell, some years before the world turned to shit, he had been caught in a trap once again, unable to leave the confines of hell.

And you…

Well, your wings were tattered, brutal scars to remind you of what you were, but to never let you leave.

Clipped wings for a trapped bird.

“I’ve always cared.”

There was a softness there, in the way his eyes dropped. He was an undeniably intimidating man, but he’d always brought himself to your level when he spoke to you, almost scared of you seeing him as anything other than an overbearing, yet loving, big brother.

“Why are you here?”

The question wasn’t as venomous as the last, genuine curiosity momentarily winning out over an never ending feud.

“What happened to you?”

His question was so sudden, like he’d been holding onto it for a lifetime, waiting for the right time to get his answer.

“You were God’s Golden Warrior, his most fierce and compassionate child.”

An angry humor burned its way up your throat, culminating in something halfway between a laugh and a growl. Amenadiel, as patient as ever, let the rage light up your features.

“What happened?” You stood then, your full height not even nearing your brother’s, but there was no denying the spark of intimidation in your stance.

You’d been God’s Golden Warrior first, then Hell’s Champion.

Titles given not by privilege, but by prowess.

There were few who were capable of moving with such speed and precision as you. Your body and mind were weapons, capable of a destruction you never sought out.

Instead, you chose to be a healer, to let the divinity that flooded your veins be used for good.

You couldn’t heal now, not since the day the bombs fell- since you fell- and that bit of knowledge hurt worse than the disappointment on Amenadiel’s face, but just barely.

“Look at this place,” your voice rose with your anger, a sneer on your lips. “At them.”

Your brother did.

Guilt flashed in his eyes, followed by quiet acceptance.

“I watched this happen. We all watched this happen.”

It was so fucking hard to get Amenadiel to understand the thoughts that plagued your every move. Anger was easy, it shadowed the guilt and overwhelming sadness, like a rabid animal protecting its den.

Why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t any of them see it?

“We do not dictate their lives,” he reminded you sternly, his arms crossing over his chest.

Your heart squeezed at the image of him, at the same expression he’d given to you so many times in your youth, bewildered with your silly antics.

“No, we just let billions of people suffer for the mistakes of a few,” you muttered bitterly.

The air, nearly frozen in time with the power of Amenadiel, grew thick with an exhausted argument. For millennia it’d been like this, each visit ending in similar disappointment. Maybe the damage was irreparable, maybe you would never reconnect with him the way you once did.

“Don’t forget who you are.”

And with that, he was gone.

You were left to your own musings once more, time ticking by like normal once again.

His words shouldn’t have bothered you, shouldn’t have crawled deep into your skin and taken root in your chest, but they did.

Don’t forget who you are.

Your legs twitched, a reminder of the position you’d been in less than a day ago.

Cooper had dropped you to your knees and you’d just let him.

You’d let him take whatever pleasure he wanted from you, had let him pump his anger into you until he’d thrown his head back with his release.

Your thoughts simmered, then blistered, dissatisfaction rearing its head.

You were not his toy, his little plaything to use as he pleased.

That little display had been for his benefit, but it wasn’t who you were. If he wanted you, he’d have to earn you.

You were gone before either of your companions awoke, Maze following closely behind as you prepared some rations for Lucy and Cooper.

Food wasn’t something you’d had in a long time.

Truthfully, you didn’t need it. Without eating, you’d survive, just as unchanged as the past several thousand years- water too. However, it hurt.

You still felt hunger, thirst, just as a human did. It didn’t debilitate you, or even make you unwell, you just felt a constant pain, an ache you couldn’t consciously fill. Humans needed food and water to survive, to even stand a fighting chance.

So, you lived in that pain.

You sighed, holding out your palm with a little bit of spare canned meat for Maze. The dog took it graciously, scarfing down the humble portion.

Lucy and Maze were easier to understand and interact with. Honestly, they were a bit refreshing. Well, Lucy was, Maze was very much a good dog, but that was usually the case.

Good humans?

Well, those were in pretty short supply these days.

It was easy to understand though, and you gave humans a lot of grace. After all, this world was a hard place that took and took, relentless in its efforts to either strike you down or make you another monster in the cog of the apocalypse.

“That smells better than I thought anything on the surface could,” Lucy mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She sat up slowly, bringing her knees to her chest as you passed her the sad excuse for a meal.

“Eat up, it’ll be a long day,” you told her, scratching Maze’s chin as you lounged a little more comfortably.

The instinct to spread your wings stretched at your spine, tamped down only by the presence of your new friend.

She hummed contentedly, taking a few bites slowly, like she was both savoring the flavor and debating on asking a question.

It seemed her curiosity won out as she swallowed another bite.

“Where will you go after I find my dad?”

You let the inquiry hang in the air as you thought on it, idly tapping your fingers on the top of your knee. You hadn’t given it a lot of thought, too focused on trying to give someone a happiness you could never have.

Maybe it’d heal a piece of yourself in the process.

“I don’t really know,” you admitted slowly, cautiously.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Cooper stir. He was awake, even if he pretended not to be.

You wouldn’t call him out though. If he wanted to listen in, so be it.

“You could-“ she paused, shaking off a bit of dust before she continued. “If you wanted to, you could come with me to my vault.”

The control Cooper always had a desperate hold on reared out of his hands, his body shooting up as if he’d woken up in a startle. You didn’t answer Lucy, didn’t bother to tell her if only because you knew it’d drive Cooper mad.

And he looked particularly put out as he grabbed his own portion of the food.

Where Lucy was well mannered and talkative, Coop took exactly what he needed and didn’t bother with conversation.

You sighed, getting to your feet and slinging your pack back on.

“Now that everybody’s had their breakfast, let’s get moving.”

Lucy was quick to join you, worry and fear chewing at her with each day that passed by. There wasn’t much left to the journey, about a day and a half if you had to guess, but there was a fairly important stop you wanted to make first.

“We’re going to make a stop tonight,” you commented, not bothering to check if Coop was following as you started making your way away from your temporary camp.

“And then we’ll be there tomorrow?” Lucy confirmed.

Your nod was enough of a confirmation for her, and instead of leaving her to her own devices, to stew in the depths of her concern, you engaged in conversation with her.

It was unimportant, for the most part, just questions about her family and her interests.

She’d told you about her brother, Norm, who she clearly had a deep affection for. Then she talked about her dad, and how close they’d been.

It was so… normal. Mundane. Domestic.

Before the war, you weren’t as involved with humans. You’d always kept them at a bit of a distance, scared to engage.

(And considering the first time you’d really tangled yourself in human affairs they claimed you to be the daughter of Zeus, married you to a Spartan, then started an entire pointless war over the male ego- you weren’t quick to re-enter society.)

But, eventually, with the help of Lucifer, you’d made friends. Integrated yourself, if you will.

Life had been a dream then, loneliness chased away by your friends and family. Lucifer had Chloe and Rory, Amenadiel had Linda and Charlie. Maze tormented you daily with very painful sparring sessions. (With the utmost love in her heart, mind you.)

Then Lucifer had been forced to return to hell, chained to his responsibility in the afterlife. Not long after, the world went to shit and the friends you’d had were all whisked away in some form or fashion, to hell or to heaven, depending on if they were Team Lucifer or Amenadiel.

You’d recognized the faraway look in Cooper’s expression too, like her explanation of her life was forcing him to face his own past.

Briefly, you wondered what that looked like.

He hadn’t really told you anything about his family. Hell, before the past couple of weeks you hadn’t told him anything about yours either.

Then, before Lucy could ask too many questions about the state of your own family, you inquired about Maximus.

There was a sadness when she spoke of him, like the uncertainty of the situation was a death sentence.

And maybe it was.

The Wasteland had a habit of making people disappear. It was so easy to just drift away, become little more than a distant memory and an occasional anecdote while the world moved on.

The conversation was enough to keep you occupied, to distract you from the impending walk down nostalgia lane.

For the most part, it was just you and Lucy talking, Cooper still deep in thought over the events of the past day. It was better that way, though, easier to focus on meaningless conversation than the streets around you.

The closer you got, the more you recognized.

The streets were so different now, not teeming with life as they’d once been.

Lux.

Los Angeles had become little more than a husk of itself, shells of buildings littering the streets, the desert sweeping in from all sides. Many factions had laid claim to the ruins, had rebuilt the city with scraps.

Through it all though, Lux had stood.

It wasn’t in perfect condition, but it did maintain itself far better than nearly every other building.

Not that it was particularly surprising, there were many, many divine artifacts locked away, for the protection of others.

“What is this place?” Lucy broke the silence, a hand blocking out the harsh sun as she followed the building to the top.

“It used to be a nightclub,” you shrugged, your boots crunching on glass shards.

Most of the windows had been smashed out, and when you entered the front, you were unsurprised to find that it’d been trashed, then picked clean. Beyond the general structure of the bottom floor, there was little recognizable content left. Even the poles had been taken down, lost to some raid or another.

You could almost picture it, your mind tugging you back to a time you’d walked through the throngs of people, pressing your way to the elevator to meet your brother.

This time, there wasn’t a crowd, just your two companions following in a hushed silence.

“It works?” Lucy gestured to the open doors of the elevator that you’d stepped into, your hand tracing the buttons reverently.

“Yeah, it’ll work,” you promised, a thousand little moments echoing in the press of a button.

You typed in the code, the one Lucifer had used to protect his property prior to leaving, and the elevator whirred back at you.

If you wanted to get technical, it had been Chloe’s idea. She wasn’t interested in coming back to Lux after Lucy left, haunted by the memories. She knew she’d meet him again, one day- but until then, she tried to maintain some semblance of normal while honoring Lucifer.

Thus, you’d all decided that you’d take Lux, and in doing so, you could maintain the artifacts that your brother had collected. You’d agreed only after drowning every surface in bleach.

He might’ve settled down with Chloe eventually, but he’d more than likely defiled every inch of the penthouse before that.

The doors moved with a groan, shutting you and your small party in as it ascended to the place you’d once considered home. Your heart twinged, each whine of the machinery bringing you closer to familiarity.

“How’d you know all this, sweetheart?”

Cooper finally broke his silence, the same one he’d had for the majority of the day, to ask. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for it or not, comforted by his voice but also frustrated with his actions.

“This,” you tapped impatiently against the rusting bar, nodding your head as the elevator screeched to a halt, doors springing open slowly. “Was my brother’s place.”

The look Cooper gave you could best be described as suspicious. You looked like you were in your mid-twenties, and this club was very obviously from before the war over 200 years ago.

You ignored it, however, instead calming the pounding of your heart as you stepped into the penthouse your brother had made his home for many years.

The lights above clicked on, a generator long dormant still capable of producing electricity. You weren’t surprised, Lucifer had really spared no expense on this place, because he hated inconvenience.

It was largely untouched, a few smashed windows and a heavy layer of dust the only real mark of the passage of time. It was still, quiet, lifeless. Your fingers idly tapped on the keys of the piano, untuned notes reverberating in the space around you as a brief flicker of life passed through the space.

You’d loved here, had once reunited with your family and friends, had held them all close as the weight of years and years in isolation forced you to your knees. The note died, the memory too, and you stepped away, towards the well stocked bar that was mostly intact.

“Now that’s a bar,” Coop whistled lowly, picking up the nearest bottle and investigating.

“We can stay here for the night,” you told them, dropping your pack on the couch, dust swirling at the upheaval. “There’s only two rooms, but the couch is comfy.”

Lucy was walking the perimeter with curiosity, hands tracing over the luxurious items with interest. She’d never seen objects like this, surrounded by metal and conformity. Everything in the penthouse was unique and expensive, millennia of history blended into fashionable decor.

Maze followed suit, sniffing and investigating every corner and crevice of the abandoned penthouse.

The distinct sound of a fridge opening made you turn towards the bar and cringe.

“I’d just leave that closed,” you commented, a shiver of disgust involuntarily crawling down your spine.

“What in the hell is this?” Coop pulled out a very brightly colored goop, one that you’d been too horrified to even touch after Lucifer had left, and then the world had ended.

“It’s uh,” you cleared your throat. “Lube.”

Amusement twitched on the ghoul’s features as he cracked the old jar open.

“Please don’t,” you muttered, not bothering to watch the scene unfold.

He’d specially ordered it from some Korean sex store, claiming that it tasted like bubblegum and caused all “bits and bobs to tingle”.

You slipped back into your brother’s room, pushing aside the old painting to get into the vault. The thrum of divinity always grew in intensity near artifacts, but this specific one lit a fire in your chest.

Lucifer had felt a connection to the Blade of Death, and Amenadiel had always been affixed to the Key, but you…

You clicked the lock open- the combination was Chloe’s birthday- and reached out, power strumming in the air.

Your fingers closed around the Medallion of Life, the world righting itself a little more around you. The three divine artifacts that made up the Flaming Sword, the three children of God that made up the three realms- there was an unbreakable tether between you and the medallion, which you’d strung around your neck.

“What’s that?”

It was Lucy who asked, who had followed you into your brother's room.

“Family heirloom,” you said, tucking the medallion beneath your jumpsuit.

Her eyes slid to the bed, still perfectly made, gazing with longing. Exhaustion had hit your party hard, the long days of traveling with the lack of adequate rations and an overbearing sun had left your companions little more than a tangle of limbs at night.

“Have the bed,” you told her, turning to walk out of the room.

“Hey,” she interrupted the quiet gently, thoughtfully. “How is it possible? That your brother owned this place?”

You breathed out a sigh, pausing momentarily.

“I’m a lot older than I look.”

Cooper was still rifling around the bar when you returned, his hat perched precariously on a shelf. Maze had jumped onto the couch, satisfied with her assessment of the new space and now content to just doze off.

Your gazes met, and instead of offering him the second room- your room- you nodded your head in a gentle goodnight, and walked the familiar path to rest. Your fingertips traced the walls, nostalgia threatening to bubble up, to form tears in your eyes.

You wouldn’t let it, wouldn’t let memories drown you in sorrow.

Don’t forget who you are.

But you wanted to.

You wanted to be anything but that person, but the person who hurt when others did, who couldn’t stand to watch anyone in pain.

The door to your room creaked open, the bright colors faded to vignette, like an old film. It still looked relatively the same- closet full of color, books lining the wall, retired weapons collecting dust like trophies.

Your bed looked so warm and inviting, and as much as you wanted to fall into the sheets and sleep for a decade, you decided it was best to maintain some amount of hygiene.

You chucked your boots off, throwing them somewhere in the wide, open space. Your socks and jumpsuit were quick to follow, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

The dresser drawers groaned with disuse, but opened with relative ease. You snagged an old t-shirt you’d stolen from some one night stand you didn’t bother remembering- the name of some old band plastered on the front in an eerie font- and a new pair of panties. Considering it’d been 200 years, you were surprised that they were in such good condition.

They smelled a little dusty and stale, but honestly, that was better than anything the Wasteland produced.

Just as you’d been about to slither into bed and sleep like the dead, the jingle of spurs sounded down the hallway, headed straight for you. Coop was slow, controlled, like he was having a conversation with himself on the walk over.

You listened intently, sitting on the edge of your bed as he decided whether he wanted to speak to you or not.

Slowly, with more caution than you’d ever seen from him, your door opened. The expression he wore was hesitant, and your heart squeezed at seeing some of the confidence in his swagger chipped away.

It struck you then, that you’d seen him play a similar role sometime back in his golden days. He’d been an apologetic cowboy, begging his lady love for forgiveness. She’d given it to him then, had confessed her undying love and then they’d rode off into the sunset, presumably to live happily ever after.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he saw the scene play in his head, if he remembered a time when all the bad disappeared with a shout of “cut”.

“What do you need?”

He shifted from foot to foot, an internal debate, before he took a step forward.

“The dog’s taking up the couch.”

A flimsy excuse. A real one, if it were you, but you knew he didn’t truly care about the comfort of Maze.

“And?”

You quirked a brow, not giving any grace. If he wanted something, he’d have to ask- nicely.

He sucked on his teeth, fingers running the brim of his hat.

“Really gonna make a man beg, sweetheart?“

“I usually do,” you met him with a pointed stare, leaning back on your elbows.

His gaze ran the length of your legs, drinking in the sight of your bare, smooth skin. Like a man possessed, he fell before you, dropped straight to his knees.

“I ain’t ever begged before,” he murmured, the tips of his fingers ghosting along your ankles. “Ain’t gonna start now.”

A smile tugged at your lips- slow and sweet, a woman who knew her worth.

“Not now,” you agreed with a hum, watching from beneath your lashes as he pressed the skin of your ankle to his lips, moving up a few inches before repeating the action. “But you will.”

A shiver ran the length of your spine when his touch reached the inside of your thigh, a smirk pulling on his mouth. He tugged at your underwear, sliding it down your legs at a torturous pace.

“Is that so?”

His breath was warm against your skin, the vibrations from his voice pressed against your legs. It was a sight to behold, him on his knees before you, worshipping each inch of yourself bared to him.

“Pretty as a peach,” he breathed, eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed cunt.

You hummed teasingly, the sound turning to a breathy moan of his name as he bit the soft flesh of your thigh.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Coop,” you told him, leveling him with an even stare.

He kept eye contact as he licked a long, hard stripe up your cunt. Your breath stuttered, muscles tensing at the sensation.

“Neither am I.”

You barely had time to register the words, to understand the insulation, before he pressed his face against you, his tongue flicking desperately against your clit.

You cursed, hands knocking the hat off his head as you grabbed onto the back of his neck, holding him there. Your back arched when he sucked, his teeth just barely scraping against your sensitive nub.

He was ravenous, his tongue finding a harsh rhythm against your clit, sucking up every drop of wetness you gave him like he’d been without water for a week. The pressure in your stomach unraveled, muscles straining under the building tension.

Your body sung, pleasure climbing higher and higher.

Coop pulled away, and you nearly sobbed at the loss of his mouth, before his fingers- somehow devoid of his gloves in the chaos- were pressing into you.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” his accent was thick, honeyed.

You had maybe a second before-

A wanton moan tore itself from your parted lips, his name a prayer on your lips as his other hand held you open, his tongue relentless against your slick heat.

His finger was pumping in and out of you, quickly joined by another as he stretched you open for him.

You were saying his name over and over now, pressure building with each swipe of his tongue or curl of his finger. You were pleading with him, at the edge of it all wanting to just plunge into your pleasure.

Your legs flexed, tried to close, but Cooper held them open as your chest fluttered. Each touch was fire, so hot your body burned in an inferno of your desire.

Cooper. Cooper. Fuck.

Unintelligible words fell from your lips, growing in volume as you fell into the feel of him, pleasure bursting through your veins. You might’ve screamed his name then, might’ve drew blood with your fingernails as he tongue fucked you through your orgasm.

It took you a moment to catch your breath, and another to realize he was crawling up your body, pride plastered in the smirk he wore.

You’d give it to him, that was one hell of an orgasm.

But, you didn’t want him to have the satisfaction. Not yet.

“Coop,” you warned, holding your hand against his chest.

The heart that beat beneath your palm was pounding with excitement.

“Darlin’,” he cooed the syllables, sweet as sugar.

If you were made of lesser stuff, you might’ve leaned into his touch, might’ve bunched his shirt in your fist and pressed your lips to his- but you weren’t, and you didn’t. Instead, you met his gaze, keeping him suspended above you.

You rocked to the side then, your leg wrapped around his middle while you flipped the both of you over, pinning him beneath you. It surprised him, the strength you displayed, so unlike when he’d had you on your knees.

You didn’t have to say anything then, didn’t even have to tell him what you were thinking. He could see it, could recognize the look in your eyes, and nodded.

He laid back, observing you above him. You wished you could tell what he was thinking, what caused the furrow of his now-gone brows.

A note floated between you, more joining with a skilled precision to create a beautiful melody.

A familiar melody.

Coop was already pushing you off him, feet pounding against the ground as you struggled to throw a pair of old sweatpants on. You were tripping over yourself, all uncoordinated limbs and excitable actions and you ran out the door and into the hallway, a few feet behind Coop.

He was already slinging insults, his gun cocked with a threat by the time you rounded the corner. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, couldn’t even see the worried expression on Lucy’s brow as you stared at the piano, the very same that had laid abandoned, silent, for 200 years.

There, in the center of the room, with a wide, devilish smile and a pristine suit, fingers sprawled across the keys, sat Lucifer.

[exeggcute]

well it's been almost six months which I think is long enough to break my posting embargo, so, uh: guess what! I got liposuction lol. specifically hip/thigh lipo to quell some pretty wicked dysphoria that stemmed from having such a feminine silhouette… and I have to say I'm really, really pleased with the results.

tbh my initial plan was to keep things under wraps for good which is why I haven't said anything about it yet (and even as I'm typing this up I keep debating whether to post it or trash it)—partly because I was/am worried people might Act Weird about it and partly because I get a little embarrassed talking about bodygendershit in general. but here we are. one reason I do feel compelled to finally share, other than being super happy about how everything went, is that I haven't encountered a lot of discussions about body sculpting as a possible avenue of gender-affirming care (although, to be fair, maybe I just haven't been looking in the right places) and I figured at least one person out there would be interested to learn about what I did and where I've ended up so far.

anyway. pics/details under the cut—nothing even remotely risqué (or yucky), I just know that body image stuff is fraught + not everyone is eager to hear surgery talk.

to be precise: I got tumescent liposuction of the inner and outer thigh, plus this ultrasound thing to help the skin shrink. a different surgeon who I consulted (but ultimately did not go with for a number of reasons) said that even if I got the results I wanted from lipo, which he claimed was unlikely, the affected skin would look loose/baggy/weird forever... and that surgeon was wrong on both counts lol. my elasticity was great bitch!!!!

they didn't take out that much fat overall, only eight pounds or so, but it's way more about the Where than the How Much. my actual surgeon (who kicks ass btw) said lipo isn't that great for weight loss per se, and what it's really good for is sculpting targeted areas—so basically exactly what I did. six months post-op I actually weigh about the same as what I did pre-op, but the distribution has held steady; more weight goes to my stomach now and less, proportionally, goes to my hips since there are fewer fat cells in that area now. so my silhouette retains its new shape!

the overall change is admittedly on the subtle side, since I'm pretty short and have wide hip bones (and you can't change your literal skeleton) but it's still gone a looooooong way. the main thing I requested from my surgeon was "I want to fit in men's pants" and boy did he deliver.

also a good place to note that if you're in the las vegas area looking for a plastic and/or cosmetic surgeon—this guy is board-certified in both btw—then I absolutely have the guy for you. feel free to DM me for details. lipo is clearly his specialty (and it shows!) but he also does a lot of breast revisions/mastopexy (i.e., fixing implants that other surgeons did a bad job putting in), regular implants, and face work (particularly facial feminization surgery). one thing that sold me on this guy was an enthusiastic yelp review from a local stripper who said he hid the incisions for her breast lift in her armpits so none of her clients would notice that she'd had work done... a true master of his craft

okay you've scrolled enough so I'll give you what you're here for lol. I don't have many pre-op pics because I was obviously unhappy with how I looked and was not taking full-body selfies on a regular basis, but here's a few I took ~2 weeks beforehand:

these super thin men's joggers were my go-to dysphoria pants, to the point where I bought five pairs in different colors, but now they're so baggy on me that they have the opposite effect and make it look like I have wider hips than I do. so I retired them from my wardrobe...

...except not immediately because I had to wear compression garments 24/7 for the first three months post-op and these joggers were just loose enough to comfortably wear a medical girdle underneath them at all times, 110° degree temperatures be damned. (not that I was going out much for the first month since I was soooooooooooo fucking bruised and sore lol.) here's a few post-op pics in the same style pants:

(first pic is less than 24 hours post-op, about to go to my follow-up appointment, looking greasy as fuck because I wasn't allowed to shower yet; second pic two days post-op and also post-shower, thankfully; third pic is about a month post-op.)

so, like, CLEAR improvement already. I will not be posting pictures of my black-and-blue-and-swollen-all-over legs but considering how puffy I was from getting internally pummeled with a cannula it's wild that I still saw improvement literally as soon as I came home.

recovery was obviously not a blast in the moment but I got off easy, all things considered. I was supposed to get drains put in and was Not looking forward to that at all lol. the first thing I asked when I woke up after surgery was "how many drains?" because they weren't sure if I'd end up needing two or four, but it turned out the answer was zero. no drains!!!

I did have to lie with my feet elevated for the first two weeks straight, and had major bruising that receded over the first month (you could barely see my regular skin underneath all the mottled spots), but little to no nerve pain, no weird complications, and I was more or less back to normal after six weeks. also noelle took very very good care of me and was brave about injecting me with blood thinners so I wouldn't get clots and die :)

when I went into it I was fully expecting to get huge vertical scars up and down the sides of my legs (and had made peace with it!) but instead I wound up with four tiny incisions like this, each less than two inches long:

what's totally crazy is that the scars are basically Gone now. like even when I'm trying to find them I struggle to locate the ones in the front. I joked to noelle that if someone did an autopsy on me they might not figure out that I'd had cosmetic surgery, especially since the skin on my thighs is back to its normal color and texture. (in this scenario I like to imagine that it's dana scully giving me the autopsy and I'm in an x-files plot where instead of regular lipo I got alien lipo and mulder figures it out purely by accident.)

with lipo it can take up to a year to see the full results but I already feel so much fucking better in my body that seeing old pre-op pics throws me for a loop. and I can absolutely wear men's pants now—pants for short and stocky men, to be fair, but actual regular men's pants and not exclusively Pants For Men With Huge Butts And Legs. which is the only style I could even hope to fit in before. and even then it was a stretch.

big pic dump of shitty mirror selfies taken over the last few months:

:)

(also I really debated sharing this one but I already included it in the yelp review I left my surgeon so fuck it: here's a tasteful before-and-after in my undies where you can see my bare legs for easier comparison. left pic is one week pre-op, right pic is about five months post-op. including it as a link instead of embedding it in the post in case your boss happens to be reading over your shoulder at this very moment. also this is the one and only time you will ever see me stripped down on tumblr dot com so don't get used to it lol.)

[tom-hossain-minis]

Holy shit politics tumblr what the fuck. Are there no communists on this site? Or people with memory greater than that of dory from finding nemo ? Does nobody recall every promise Biden not only broke but actively did the opposite of what he said he was gonna do? And I also have to ask, and I’m sorry to do so, but I think it’s important, are you all white? Cause I seen yall saying “your pic friends will suffer” and the way it’s phrased makes me think perhaps yall are not yourselves poc, for the most part. Furthermore, all *my* poc friends are well fucking aware that Joe “I’m against desegregation” Biden is a fucking racist POS, as is his entire administration. Let’s not even get into increased climate destruction, his support for trans people being barred from sports, his general apathy towards lgbt people, his really fucking vile southern border behaviour and policy, his explicit fucking islamaphobia, anti black racism, and anti-Asian racism, his supreme belief in police barbarism, his total economic shitshow these last four years, and finally, something I suspect non Americans literally are unable to fathom, his vitriolic hatred of the rest of the world, and the danger he poses to humanity’s continued survival as a result. It’s true, your political system sucks fucking balls, I pity you for having only one party and not being able to remove your head of state, but don’t you dare tell me that you think Joe Biden is a “good president in most regards except Palestine”. And guess what, “trump is worse” is something I wholeheartedly agree with. But for some reason you Americans have no concept of “saying no”. You don’t have a permanent minimum standard. I can’t understand it, is there some weird part of American culture that says you can’t have a sense of personal dignity, or, dare I say it, a spine? It’s inconciliables to me that every person in the most well off, powerful, heavily defended nation on earth would not only allow themselves to be, in the most shakespearien sense, raped by their political system every four years, but that *some* would revel in it. I genuinely mean it when I say I cannot understand this behaviour. Aren’t you outraged at this treatment? Where is your fury against such degradation? Wouldn’t you fight and work and claw at everything against you until your bones were raw and white and broken rather than settle for this most violating and humiliating of lifestyles, in the hope of something better? Don’t get me wrong, I come from the cesspool that is Britain, and that’s its own thing, but I know why and how the British spirit was so thoroughly crushed so I know why people have given up there, and even then, we not only still have some resemblance of fight, but also a system that at least in theory can allow for some better representation than the American one. Britain has a proud history of rioting when things get too bad, we stole the idea from the French, just like everything in our history and culture, but America never seemed to have the same; is it just too vast a country? I just, really need someone to explain it. When and how were the American people politically lobotomised? And I’m sorry if this is rude or confusing but I really am at a loss. As a scientist I really am dedicated to and obsessed with making the world a better place for everyone, but America, the biggest problem by a landslide so massive it could be its own planet, completely and totally baffles me.

Tl;dr: fuck Joe Biden, I have a sneaking suspicion tumblr is mostly racist white people, America’s very existence can drive a man insane like the visage of Cthulhu

[gluteus-canis-familiaris]

I wondered if people back home would ever know what it cost the soldiers to win this war. In America, things were already beginning to look like peace time. The standard of living was on the rise, race tracks and nightclubs were booming. You couldn't get a hotel room in Miami Beach, it was so crowded. How could anyone ever know of the price paid by soldiers in terror, agony, and bloodshed if they'd never been to places like Normandy, Bastogne, or Haguenau? reconcile the fact that Nixon followed Winters from OCS to the paratroops, that they were two officers born in the same year amongst a company of mostly 18-year old baby boys, that Winters was so impressed at Nixon getting him the support and ammo he needed at Brecourt and so flattered when Nixon asked him to give a lecture on leadership to the incoming officers after D-Day that he had to write in his memoir about how that 'cAuGhT mY AtTenTion', that immediately after Winters explains how you can't let yourself succumb to emotion at the loss of men while you're on the front-- lapses in his incredibly professional and technical recollection of the war to say that had he lost Nixon to that bullet to the helmet in Holland, that THAT WOULD BE HIS ONE EXCEPTION, that everyone went on leave to Paris and who knows where but Winters and Nixon were the only two officers spending their night on base together right before the news that the Ardennes offensive had broken through??????, that Nixon gave up his blessed leave to the States to stay on the front in Bastogne and help, oh I dunno, the general war effort I guess??, and not a singular, daily-shaving, suffering-in-silence 2nd Battalion XO????, that Winters unintentionally described Nixon's alcoholism as "BEAUTIFUL" because it meant Winters would watch over everything during the day while Nixon would watch over things for him during the night and that they were essentially a military match made in heaven (it's! on! record! the voice clip!! is out there!!!), that Winters looked at this stupidly handsome, post-demotion alcoholic on VE-Day and said.... u kno wat.... here's some more of the stuff..... i saved it all under special guard duty just 4 u.......enjoy......"bro"......., that Nixon was COMPELLED !!! COMPELLED !!!! to drag this guy's butt back home to Jersey with him after the war, that years after the show when Ron Livingston was asked what his favorite scenes to shoot/watch were, he brought up previously mentioned moment and describes loving the bromance aspect of it, and has the AU-DA-CI-TY to liken the tension in it to when you're "INVITING THE GIRL TO PROM" (?!?!?!?! his words!!! not mine!!!), that Winters was Nixon's best man AND gave the eulogy at his funeral, THAT--

[shepherds-of-haven]

How would each RO's fan base react if MC dates their idols? And what would MC's fan base think if they date some RO? 😅

Blade's fanbase: I think reactions from his fanbase are mixed, ranging from either envious and salty (like "nooo I was supposed to be the special one who unlocked his ice-cold heart, this isn't fair!!") to resigned acceptance because the special treatment was obvious to anyone watching closely enough, so it's not exactly a surprise

Trouble: completely non-surprise, it was sooo obvious for so long, they'd most likely "adopt" MC as part of their fandom and ship/worship them from afar as a couple... except for Rovyn, if you've read Trouble's latest day off 😭

Tallys: I think it would mostly be mystification, like "HUHHHH since when were they interested in each other?? what made Tallys break down her walls and go after MC, who's not even another Elf??" I think they'd be more rabid for details and consumed with curiosity than anything!

Shery: there would be much wailing and gnashing of teeth, it'd be like watching a much-beloved daughter go off on her own and marry into a different household, the mourning and loss would be intense 😭

Riel: honestly I feel like 90% of his fanbase would be very happy that Riel can actually find romantic happiness with somebody, I think his fans worry about him and his health and want him to find someone because they mostly entertain no fantasies that that person would ever be them, lol, if they're fans of his then they're already well aware of his impossible standards 😂 So they would be very pleased for him and likely approving of the relationship!

Chase: there would be much salt from his fanbase and many mutual reassurances along the lines of "don't worry, we know his pattern, it's just a hookup, this won't last, no one panic!!" and the longer it went on and the more committed and in-love Chase acted, the more the confidence would die down to a sour 'we all agreed not to talk about it' lol

Red: I think there would be much salt and bitterness, I'm guessing that in the case of fuckboys and players that the fans accept/love/embrace that aspect of them (believing that they'll never settle down and will be perpetual bachelors), and then when that changes, there's probably a sense of betrayed outrage, like they're not the same person or something anymore, lol. I imagine that the salt would be increased even more if Red and MC are exes!

Ayla: I think there would be a sense of noble acceptance and acknowledgement about it, like, "ah.... my fair Ayla... if that is your path to happiness, I can only step aside and wish you well from afar......" So generally they would just be happy that she'd found someone and could only wistfully observe her changes in demeanor as a result of finding love with MC from a distance, and with a faint sense of pride and approval, like

Briony: gnashing and writhing, tearing out of the hair and sobbing into pillows and etc. There are probably angry muttered discussions of challenging MC to a group (?) duel that never actually come to fruition

Lavinet: melodramatic theatrics and public declarations and fervent letters sent to Lavinet along the lines of "My dearest Lavinet, I thought what we had was special! How could you betray me thus? 🥺 What have I done to deserve such scorn from thee???" It's not personal to MC, it's just that Lavinet had a LOT of admirers sending her love letters and they all thought they were the only one lol

MC: I think this would depend on who MC was dating! If it was someone higher up in the ranks, like Blade or Riel (aka a co-Commander) or someone like Lavinet, Trouble, or Tallys (old guard, noble, etc.), it would be like "yeah I guess that makes sense... :/" but if it was someone less obviously "deserving" or "equal" to MC, there would be some "make it make sense!!!" feelings of shock. After all, MC is the Hero of Haven, they deserve someone who can equal their greatness!!

[lookbluesoup]

So while I get that Gridanians live under these.... essentially toddler-gods who can afflict the entire territory with horrible plague, who will severely punish well-intentioned children that were manipulated by adults instead of the adult, and can't communicate their desires clearly, which leads the community to adopt a lot of hostility to change, paranoia, hate and even violence toward outsiders, etc...

Unless there's more explanation for this I haven't found? I know I'm not 100% up to speed on everything Gridania, especially pre-ARR....

Keepers of the Moon were living in the Black Shroud outside of Gridanian authority, for generations, presumably not being laserbeamed out of existence. There would have been a lot going on outside of the Seedseer's effective reach, and there aren't Moonkeeper Padjal to make up the gap there, only Hyur get to be Padjal.

Miqo'te are described as traditionally being far more in tune with nature and eschewing things like major city developments and whatnot. They're predators, yes, but predators have a place and function in the natural balance of the world.

"Beast Tribes" are a made up word from Ul'dah to protect trade monopolies in Thanalan, and Miqo'te could easily have ended up on the wrong side of that label if the rich elites had wanted them barred from the city. Historically, they're a lot more "feral" than a lot of the other spoken races.

I mention all this because it's unlikely the Elementals divide people into Beast Tribes and Human Races. Sylph's aren't being deleted by the Elementals, either, despite certainly having no inclination to live like the Gridanians do and being fairly mischievous.

My point being... I wonder if maybe the Gridanians kind of brought the Greenwrath on themselves. A lot of the time. The same way that some IRL religious institutions preach hate in the name of a deity and stir paranoia and fear of eternal condemnation. They create sins where there didn't need to be... Justifying division and destruction and isolation out of fear (and thus a need for control), and actually creating their own problems.

Elementals might not care about a lot of the stuff Gridania does, its clear a few times when something bad happens to someone, even just getting sick, panic strikes that the Elementals are behind it and people act irrationally out of fear, like the IRL Salem Witch Trials.

If you look at places like Haukke Manor... a country living in balance with nature does not need massive monuments to vanity like that. And there's apparently a whole quarter devoted to mansions for nobility in Gridania (which the npc says we're not allowed to visit.) Why do you have that. Why do you think that promotes peace with the natural world.

There's Wood Wailers who talk about wanting to kill Moonkeepers on sight, just in case they're "poachers." That's sort of like killing wolves because they're predators. Outside of some genuine bad apples, though, a lot of what seems to drive actual Moonkeeper poachers AND Duskwight Elezen to banditry is a straight up need to survive. Gridania's essential demand that they have dictatorial rights over management of the forest leads them to disrupt these group's lives, sometimes with exceptional cruelty.

I know that "central authority" is kind of... not super really a thing for Gridania, power is pretty divided up and a lot of it seems to run on an honor system. But that seems to have led to a lot of Process Loss and enabled a lot of prejudice and abuse to run rampant. Especially now that the Elementals are weaker than pre-Calamity.

I guess basically I wonder if the reason Sylphs and traditional Moonkeeper clans managed to survive out there was because, unlike Gridania, they don't have social systems built from the ground up on fear and condemnation. They're not constantly LOOKING for reasons to think the Elementals hate them and someone to blame for it.

They just live "natural" lives, that aren't inherently dangerous to the overall balance of the forest ecosystem, and they don't have an entire religious/government body dedicated to trying to interpret vague impressions from the Elementals (this is a HORRIBLE system of government and EXTREMELY susceptible to personal prejudices/bias), so these non-Gridanians run into conflict with the Elementals far less often.

i.e. Moonkeeper kills a rabbit, uses the meat, skin, and bones, is behaving like a hunter, Elementals don't care. VERSUS Gridanian kills a rabbit, uses it the same way, but then a villager gets sick and their friends panic and they turn into a mob and punish the Gridanian, Elementals didn't care but now they're a little pissy bc you're disrupting the forest with your insanity.

Basically... Gridania is the real affront to the Elementals, their very infrastructure and their culture of micromanaging the forest and constantly looking for scapegoats, kind of flies in the face of actually living in balance with nature. The Elementals aren't omnipotent or a unified group, and seem to struggle to understand human minds anyway, so they're trying to work with this city-state and have established some kind of partnership, but Gridania is really its own worst enemy.

[flibbetygibbetsbro]

Kay so I already posted this a month or so ago, but I find it very applicable to the fandom rn

The lore in Nightfall is actually insane. You're telling me that hundreds of humans went missing, and when the Elvin Leadership did NOTHING the humans revolted so hard-core that ya'll really had to DISSAPERE from their knowledge? "But it was to keep the peace!"

Nuh uh.

If you REALLY wanted peace you would have actually looked into the disappearances. That would have been waaay easier to pull off than erasing hundreds of minds and flibbety-dippen SINKING an entire city into the ocean. Despite Elven egos, I think that the council got scared. That's right. The humans you call dumb and violent SCARED you into hiding.  We ugly, weak, and untalented things decided enough was enough and you couldn't handle it.

What's extra crazy is the fact that the Elvin world has everything in their pockets OTHER THAN THE HUMANS. You're telling me that we idiots rule the Earth while you lock yourselves and others away? 

An even crazier thing is that Elves view themselves above everything, even if they won't admit it at the get-go. Ogres really are pissed about it. They are CRAZY strong but also incredibly intelligent. The average elf understands nothing about Biochemistry (other than extreme exceptions such as Lady Candace) yet Ogres have things that can wipe out entire species and put Elves in endless comas. "But the Neverseen used the sedative so they understand it!"

Nuh uh.

They stole the research from the Ogre scientists. (Or made a deal with the king I honestly don't remember at this point). They NEVER would have pulled that off without them. And guess what? Ogres are a generally violent species as well but the Elves keep them around. (Albeit on a short leash). 

The humans have a similar situation. Many times in the books a human story, invention, or belief is brought up only for someone to smugly say "They get that from us", or "he was inspired by ME". I believe there was also a scene where someone talks about how human "help" organizations were terminated because the information shared with them led to dangerous inventions. Don't you guys just love it when Elves claim credit for all good ever done by humans? But as soon as a nuclear power plant or bomb is mentioned (crazy complicated crap) it's suddenly the nasty humans and their dumb, violent minds. *insert eye-roll* Which is it? Are we smart or dumb? Are WE responsible or are YOU? Ya'll can't cherry-pick. Elves also pretend that they have control over humans, yet you can't stop an invention from destroying a Japanese City and ending a devastating war that killed more Jews than the average Elf could comprehend? If humans are so terrible, THEN WHY HAVEN’T YOU STOPPED US YET? WHY DIDN'T YOU KILL US WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE? oh that's right, you're too scared.

My final thought: The fact that HUMANS are what Vespera chose to "study". Why not Ogres or Trolls? Were humans the easier target, or was there some other reason? The fact of the matter is that Humans and Elves are more similar than either of us would like to admit. Ogre's minds are too different than an Elf's. Human minds are only different in the sense of how loud they are.  In fact, that's arguably the most important difference between us. We humans are loud, we feel intensely and love like nothing Elves would understand. For we love for our short lives while they wander on for eternity. The only reason we can handle violence is because we have to fend for ourselves. Elves have protectors and little green people to do their dirty work. Humans have to live through thick and thin, slavery, war, loss, and heartbreak. When Elvin minds shatter, our minds find ways to make it through. Lose someone? We make up afterlife after afterlife and history shows different religions arising when the general public needs a way to work through their violent and tiring lives. But maybe we AREN’T so different. The characters presented as able to handle violence/are inclined to it either had to suffer violence and neglect, lived through endless years of times before the treaties and the council, or spent time with humans. Take Fitz as a prime example. Bro legit beat the shit out of Alvar and trapped him in goo to die. NOTHING IN THE BOOKS SHOWS FITZ FEELING ANY GUILT FOR THIS. Hm...seems like a very "human" thing to do.

The real reason Elves fear us is because we're just an untethered form of themselves with shorter life spans and a lot less to lose. We feel more deeply, more “violently”. As the books go on the Council itself is presented in a more kick-butt way as they finally step up to Vespera and the horrors she caused. 

That sounds a lot like The Humans of Atlantice.

[sunderedazem]

okay so, I finally finished Dawntrail, patch quests notwithstanding of course! And now I have some thoughts, though they're probably kind of disjointed? Because- I have a lot of opinions on this expac, and some of the dismissive attitudes of other people I've seen floating around are just. Really annoying to me. Anyway. It's under a readmore, Dawntrail spoilys abound, I am talking about the WHOLE thing but rambling

So! I liked Dawntrail better than A Realm Reborn, (which I think is the accurate measuring stick/expac to contrast it against). It's very clearly setting up future expansions and story, introducing new characters and plot devices and generally giving us something to pursue in the future. The world is fun and beautiful, the music SLAPS, the characters are mostly well rounded, especially Wuk Lamat and Koana - their arcs were very well done and I genuinely enjoyed them far beyond anything in ARR lol. Or Stormblood, to be honest. The initial plot of about level 95 and below makes sense and is well-executed. But while I *like* it more than ARR - I think it's much less well executed in one regard - the sheer lack of tie-in to what came before.

ARR goes to great lengths to preserve pieces of 1.0's story- a story that is literally inaccessible to new players except in video or privately hosted servers and etc. Louisoix's sacrifice, though never seen outside of 1.0, is constantly referenced, even up through Endwalker! It sets up the bones of a story that is very clearly built on what came before, even though most new players will have no ability to experience that story whatsoever.

In contrast- Dawntrail has ten years of worldbuilding to sprinkle throughout, mostly in regards to previously-established global phenomena - like stories of Turali Warriors of Light with the Echo, the Umbral Calamities, the loss of an entire second moon now well over five years ago, the Final Days manifesting (surely not just over Eorzea and Ilsabard?), the Blasphemies - and it ignores all of that, to the detriment of FFXIV's worldbuilding. And look- I get it, it's a new story, the writers want to distance themselves from the previous ten years I guess, but the result is that this feels disjointed as hell to me. It's like the previous ten years of still-playable story has been completely discarded, and for what? Marketing? Like, we know the Echo wasn't just an Eorzea thing, that Warriors of Light exist across every reflection, and yet- we hear nothing about the Turali ideas and mythos about these? Not even in passing, when it would make sense for it to be discussed?

I get that some people disliked the previous story and thought the WoL thing was overdone but- it was the central story for ten years. It is central to the worldbuilding here now. Tossing it out so easily feels sloppy as hell, and it's a choice that even ARR didn't make despite how easy it would have been for them to do so!

That all being said- I didn't really have much of a problem with this during the first half of the expansion. It was the promised low-stakes vacation, Wuk Lamat had a fantastic arc showcasing her growth, the WoL kind of gets to hang out and let Someone Else deal with the plot - and it's all honestly pretty great. Yeah, I was really feeling the lack of cohesion with the previous expansions, but the worldbuilding in Tural was making up for it, with how diverse the different regions were and how cohesive everything felt within itself here was actually fantastic. (I am still mad that kitty girl never got to eat her tacos! Let Wuk Lamat eat her tacos! Taco cat!)

I also really liked that she was going to the different homes of the people she knew from Tuliyollal and learning some of their ways as well. Because she definitely knew them from her life in the city, but clearly lacked familiarity with some of their more traditional beliefs, and seeing an aspiring ruler interact with and value those parts of her communities was really well done, I think. And I think it also was a really important point to make- that to rule over (elected or otherwise) and make decisions for a people, you really have to make the effort and keep making the effort to know them.

And...and this is all where the second half falls apart, for me.

Solution Nine and Everkeep and Alexandria, and the lightning-drowned shard are really cool setting ideas, and they're gorgeous as hell, but the plot stops making sense to me here, like at all. Wuk Lamat leading the charge into the dome initially I can see, as it's a Turali village that's been swallowed up, but the moment it becomes clear that not only has thirty years passed inside the dome, but this is an entirely separate world and nation that has somehow fused with our own Source- it...I'm sorry, but it doesn't make sense for her to take the plot lead role. She's a national leader - but she's not an expert in dimensions and reflections and world ending catastrophes. The Scions are (Y'shtola or Krile are right here). The WoL is. And I definitely agree that she should have been along for the ride - these are her people, after all, at least in part! Tuliyollal was attacked by these people, she needs to be there to negotiate - and I get that the WoL as a character very, very rarely actually initiates plot, but this very much felt like we were entirely just along for the ride instead of a member of a once-again secret organization whose entire job it is to deal with shit like this and the person that literally saved the star by facing down Meteion.

This second half of the story would have been the perfect opportunity, imo, for WoL references and Ascian references and Echo references, because this is all a set of circumstances that aren't too far out of the WoL's wheelhouse of "just another Tuesday. Damn" crazy happenstances. We known the Ascians were working to unbalance the shards and maybe still are, we know that levin sickness and the sin eater transformations likely have the same cure, we KNOW that we managed to stabilize the First (and in Eden quests even helped restore it!) and could probably help Sphene do the same and- none of this is mentioned. It is literally a golden opportunity to tie in what we know from previous expansions (because this is the same overarching setting. let it have a cohesive story!) even in a momentary mention of just "oh, we've helped with something similar before, if you want our assistance."

But we don't really get that. What we get is this- kind of half-assed attempt at making Sphene and Wuk Lamat foils for each other and also friends?, and meanwhile the WoL is sitting there with the answers to at least some of the questions being asked, and just not saying anything about them. And it's very clear - at least to me - from the get go that this is going to be more learning about the Alexandrians' way of life to try and reach a common understanding (which don't get me wrong, it's fun). But even from the outset, I can tell that was never going to be the issue here. The conflict here isn't actually between the people of Alexandria and Tural, it's between Zoraal Ja/Sphene and Tural. The Alexandrians are pretty neatly stripped of any agency in this with the memory modifications of the Regulators (re: those few lines about the resistance twins' father being dragged off after a minor incident with the military and then forgotten. if that's not a guy getting Disappeared....yikes), and it's clear that most of the living people don't really know or care what Endless are.

And so when we follow Wuk Lamat around as she wanders about learning about Alexandrians, like how we did with the villages in Tural, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Not because we're learning about the people here, but because this is held up to be somehow relevant to defeating Zoraal Ja and Sphene - and in the end, we won't learn enough to actually understand the Alexandrian people anyway. This isn't the same thing as a princess from the capital city visiting the traditional villages of the people she's grown up alongside in order to be a better leader for them, this is two madmen (one an AI bot, the other...apparently having lost his inner motivations in the last 30 years in favor of proving himself better than his father? I dunno, I wasn't sure I understood this slide for him) using their people as a crutch to further their goals. And in between all this, we have like, four quests where we cooperate with an Alexandrian resistance, tops. And that resistance isn't even against Sphene, it's against Zoraal Ja!

But in Living Memory, we're still forced to erase the memories of (probably) hundreds of thousands of Alexandrians, with zero provision made for their preservation somehow - like would it have been impossible to record them on floppy disks or allagan tomestones somethin, or even just some of them - with zero provision made for the return of the memories of the people of Alexandria so that these simulacrum people aren't just. deleted from history. The people of Alexandria- are they ever told that they were harvesting souls from other worlds to maintain a simulation of everyone who had ever lived and died in Alexandria? Not to maintain their current lives in Everkeep? Are they ever told that Sphene was an android, that she actually died hundreds of years ago? Are the Alexandrians ever actually given the opportunity to remember their own people?

Because- not from what I understand of the current story? We get hamfisted into following Cahcuia's wishes (and she's not even Alexandrian) and shutting down the terminals wholesale (which probably condemns all the preserved and living plants in that conservatory to withering away and dying, too). And the most we get in passing is a "we will remember them" from Wuk Lamat and....no. we won't. We've barely met these people, barely comprehend their way of life. This isn't our or Wuk Lamat's culture, it's the Alexandrians. And this isn't the last plea of a dying relic (a la Emet-selch in ShB) this is- we're outsiders coming in and erasing massive chunks of a people's history. This isn't us promising to remember that they existed after they've been wiped from history, this is us actively erasing them.

And the question this particular expansion asks, via Sphene and Cahcuia and in other ways is "could you have found another way, if it were you?" and this is a question that the WoL has already answered! With Ardbert, with Meteion - but we're not allowed to give that same answer here. We're not allowed to say "yes, and here's how we helped start fixing the First and Thirteenth, do you want in." Instead, it feels like we're backtracking on one of the core themes of Endwalker (i.e. letting the memory of those you lost push you forward and keep you going - for those we have lost. for those we can yet save). Hell, G'raha's conversation with the Omicrons in Ultima Thule is all about if they can still count as living people- and then we're reneging on that here, and destroying the Endless and being told they're not living and not even given the chance to treat their memories with dignity in trying to memorialize them somehow.

Not to mention in the very end where the ruler of the neighboring country you were just at war with (you think, do you even remember or know that?) turns up having just murdered your beloved queen (who was maybe an AI, you heard, but you're not sure?) with a small boy who looks like your tyrant king from That World that just Slaughtered all your people for their souls and- you're told he's the new king now? what the fuck. and what the fuck kind of international incident-

Like, I get that the Endless needed to go, because they did. That Sphene was who Wuk Lamat was getting to know so she could be remembered (versus the Alexandrian people) even if I think that they really did not have enough time to end up as friends. I get that this is an expansion After the Other Story is Over. But the Other Story Still Happened and affected things including worldstate (and reflectionstate, lol) and it feels like that was just ignored. The memories of the people the Endless became still deserve tribute, somehow, still deserve preservation - the Alexandrians deserve to have much more agency in the decisions made about their way of life. This was still a global threat that should've probably had the Global Threat Ending Organization acting at bit more hands on about it, while Wuk Lamat did a bit more actual diplomacy.

Overall, the expansion is fun. There's a lot of fun questions I'm wondering about the answers to. Wuk Lamat is a bean, and while my WoL probably isn't calling her Lamaty'i (it took him like three expacs to be that relaxed with the Scions) he's nevertheless a friend of hers and is very willing to play pranks and cause mischief around Tuliyollal with the excuse of "yeah well I know the Dawnservants :3." The setting design and Turali internal worldbuilding is fucking incredible - honestly HW-levels of hella. The entire first half of the expansion was awesome. It's all WAY more fun than ARR, or StB in some cases. But - especially the second half - it's much less narratively cohesive with the rest of the game, and appears to backtrack on or ignore themes that really hit hard for me in Shadowbringers and Endwalker and that's frustrating to me.

I guess in the end my reaction boils down to- I got an expac with the internal worldbuilding work of HW, but with less of an explicit connection to the rest of the game than ARR had to 1.0. And as someone who's invested in the overarching story...that's last part is disappointing to me. Probably won't NG+ the second half like how I don't NG+ ARR, and I'll hope the patch quests will resolve some of the upset I felt about just. deleting giant swathes of Alexandrian history.

I definitely like the expansion, from an "is it fun?" perspective. I don't know if I like it from a "does it make sense?" perspective. And I honestly I think I would have enjoyed it more if it was all more like the first half of the expansion.

[nostalgebraist]

@oakfern replied to your post “it's going to be fun to watch the realization...”:

i feel like this is going to play out very similarly to voice assistants. there was a huge boom in ASR research, the products got a lot of hype, and they actually sold decently (at least alexa did). but 10 years on, they've been a massive failure, costing way more than they ever made back. even if ppl do think chatbot search engines are exciting and cool, it's not going to bring in more users or sell more products, and in the end it will just be a financial loss

​(Responding to this a week late)

I don't know much about the history of voice assistants. Are there any articles you recommend on the topic? Sounds interesting.

ETA: Iater, I found and read this article from Nov 2022, which reports that Alexa and co. still can't turn a profit after many years of trying.

But anyway, yeah... this is why I don't have a strong sense of how widespread/popular these "generative AI" products will be a year or two from now. Or even five years from now.

(Ten years from now? Maybe we can trust the verdict will be in at that point... but the tech landscape of 2033 is going to be so different from ours that the question "did 'generative AI' take off or not?" will no doubt sound quaint and irrelevant.)

Remember when self-driving cars were supposed to be right around the corner? Lots of people took this imminent self-driving future seriously.

And I looked at it, and thought "I don't get it, this problem seems way harder than people are giving it credit for. And these companies show no signs of having discovered some clever proprietary way forward." If people asked me about it, that's what I would say.

But even if I was sure that self-driving cars wouldn't arrive on schedule, that didn't give me much insight into the fate of "self-driving cars," the tech sector meme. It wasn't like there was some specific deadline, and when we crossed it everyone was going to look up and say "oh, I guess that didn't work, time to stop investing."

The influx of capital -- and everything downstream from it, the trusting news stories, the prominence of the "self-driving car future" in the public mind, the seriousness which it was talked about -- these things went on, heedless of anything except their own mysterious internal logic.

They went on until . . . what? The pandemic, probably? I actually still don't know.

Something definitely happened:

In 2018 analysts put the market value of Waymo LLC, then a subsidiary of Alphabet Inc., at $175 billion. Its most recent funding round gave the company an estimated valuation of $30 billion, roughly the same as Cruise. Aurora Innovation Inc., a startup co-founded by Chris Urmson, Google’s former autonomous-vehicle chief, has lost more than 85% since last year [i.e. 2021] and is now worth less than $3 billion. This September a leaked memo from Urmson summed up Aurora’s cash-flow struggles and suggested it might have to sell out to a larger company. Many of the industry’s most promising efforts have met the same fate in recent years, including Drive.ai, Voyage, Zoox, and Uber’s self-driving division. “Long term, I think we will have autonomous vehicles that you and I can buy,” says Mike Ramsey, an analyst at market researcher Gartner Inc. “But we’re going to be old.”

Whatever killed the "self-driving car" meme, though, it wasn't some newly definitive article of proof that the underlying ideas were flawed. The ideas never made sense in the first place. The phenomenon was not really about the ideas making sense.

Some investors -- with enough capital, between them, to exert noticable distortionary effects on entire business sectors -- decided that "self-driving cars" were, like, A Thing now. And so they were, for a number of years. Huge numbers of people worked very hard trying to make "self-driving cars" into a viable product. They were paid very well to do. Talent was diverted away from other projects, en masse, into this effort. This went on as long as the investors felt like sustaining it, and they were in no danger of running out of money.

Often the "tech sector" feels less like a product of free-market incentives than it does like a massive, weird, and opaque public works product, orchestrated by eccentrics like Masayoshi Son, and ultimately organized according to the aesthetic proclivities and changing moods of its architects, not for the purpose of "doing business" in the conventional sense.

Gig economy delivery apps (Uber Eats, Doordash, etc.) have been ubiquitous for years, and have reported huge losses in every one of those years.

This entertaining post from 2020 about "pizza arbitrage" asks:

Which brings us to the question - what is the point of all this? These platforms are all losing money. Just think of all the meetings and lines of code and phone calls to make all of these nefarious things happen which just continue to bleed money. Why go through all this trouble?

Grubhub just lost $33 million on $360 million of revenue in Q1.

Doordash reportedly lost an insane $450 million off $900 million in revenue in 2019 (which does make me wonder if my dream of a decentralized network of pizza arbitrageurs does exist).

Uber Eats is Uber's "most profitable division” 😂😂. Uber Eats lost $461 million in Q4 2019 off of revenue of $734 million. Sometimes I need to write this out to remind myself. Uber Eats spent $1.2 billion to make $734 million. In one quarter.

And now, in February 2023?

DoorDash's total orders grew 27% to 467 million in the fourth quarter. That beat Wall Street’s forecast of 459 million, according to analysts polled by FactSet. Fourth quarter revenue jumped 40% to $1.82 billion, also ahead of analysts’ forecast of $1.77 billion.

But profits remain elusive for the 10-year-old company. DoorDash said its net loss widened to $640 million, or $1.65 per share, in the fourth quarter as it expanded into new categories and integrated Wolt into its operations.

Do their investors really believe these companies are going somewhere, and just taking their time to get there? Or is this more like a subsidy? The lost money (a predictable loss in the long term) merely the price paid for a desired good -- for an intoxicating exercise of godlike power, for the chance to reshape reality to one's whims on a large scale -- collapsing the usual boundary between self and outside, dream and reality? "The gig economy is A Thing, now," you say, and wave your hand -- and so it is.

Some people would pay a lot of money to be a god, I would think.

Anyway, "generative AI" is A Thing now. It wasn't A Thing a year ago, but now it is. How long will it remain one? The best I can say is: as long as the gods are feeling it.

[theoneandonlycoralinejones]

Louis TWDG x reader - Opposites Attract

Warnings: None :)

(This takes place in a world where Marlon hasn’t died yet and the raiders aren’t a threat yet.)

     You had been staying at the Ericson Boarding School for troubled youth with the rest of everyone for a while now. You came with your friends, Clementine and AJ.

     The three of you were found by Marlon, after you had gotten into a car crash together.

     Since then, It's been a couple of months, and you've made quite a few friends here! You and Violet typically had late night talks, you helped Marlon out by hunting for food and scavenging; and generally you got along well with everyone. 

     Everyone; except for one person. That person being Louis. 

    He had a very laid back personality, one that you had a hard time getting along with. You felt all his flirting and teasing was gonna end him up with a huge zombie chomp. But, you still got along with him decently, he wasn’t your enemy, per se, just sort of opposites from you. 

     It was nighttime, and everyone was outside when Louis called for one of his infamous card games. This time, though, it wasn’t war. It had a slight twist,

"Let's play truth or dare, the highest card gets to truth or dare the lowest card!"

     We all pull cards, and you look around and then at mine. You got the lowest card.

     And who would’ve guessed, the person with the highest card was good ol’ Louis. 

“Truth or dare?” He says with a shit-eating grin.

“Uhhm, truth.” You sigh. 

He crosses his arms and thinks, “Hmm, out of everyone here, who would you want to be the last person on Earth with?” 

“Huh,” You look over to Clem, “Probably Clem, she’s got my back.” you smile, 

     He seems a little bit dissatisfied with your answer, hoping for something a little more out of character from you, but the game carries on and everyone picks a card again. The next couple turns are pretty normal and fun, nothing too crazy. It takes a while for the lowest card to be yours again. This time the highest card was Violet. 

“Truth or dare?” She says tilting her head. 

“Uhh, truth.”

“Again? Someone’s playing it safe,” Louis chimes in teasingly. 

     Violet rolls her eyes with a smile, “Shut up, Louis. ..anyways,” She hunches over on the picnic table and looks up as she thinks for a moment. 

“Hmm, you know, speaking of Louis, why do you talk about him so much?” She smirks sneakily. 

     A subtle ‘Oooooo’ can be heard by everyone else at the table. All of their eyes went on you, who was now wide eyed and slightly sweaty. 

“Whaaaaaat? I don’t! W- what’re you talking about?” You deny.

Violet shakes her head, her smile remaining. Her whole demeanor is nonchalant and sort of sleepy as she’s talking, “Well if I recall, you talk; a lot. And about half of it is about Sir Louis over here.” 

     You just sit there for a moment with a dumbfounded look on your face while at a loss for words. The truth is, you did talk about Louis, not in a positive light though. It was more complaining about how annoying he was than anything, but she was right, you did talk about him a lot. And even you couldn’t explain why.

“Uhh, I think I choose dare instead.” 

    Everyone around the table laughed at this, and you somehow played off the question and evaded further questions about it. The game went on for just a few more rounds, you got the top card and ended up daring Omar to do a handstand, which he gracefully failed at, and then eventually the long night came to a close. 

   We cleaned up the courtyard, turned out the lights, and then everyone headed off to their dorm rooms. Except for one person, who followed behind you to yours. Louis. 

“Hey, hey (Y/N),” He walked up behind you before you could walk inside your room.

You turn back to him, groaning slightly, “What is it, Louis? I’m really tired.”

“I know, I know, It’ll just be a minute.” 

“Sooo… why do you talk about me so much huh?” He teases with a smirk. 

You sigh and cross your arms, “Louis… I promise you it isn’t as deep as you think it is,”

“Or isss it?” He hums in a sing-song voice.

You sigh, “I dunno. You heard Violet, I talk a lot, I love to ramble to her, I don’t even remember what I say.” I shrug. 

“Are you sure it’s not cuz you… LIKE me?” He tilts his head forwards and looks at you with a cheesy smirk on his face. His hands placed in his jacket pockets. 

   You pause for a second, a slight tint of red on your face, but you immediately purge the thought and regain your composure. You smirk back, crossing your arms and tilting your head up.

“In your dreams, mister.” 

He shrugs, “Welp..” 

“I do hope to see you in them tonight,” He smiles as he casually walks away, wishing you goodnight.

    You shake your head as you watch him walk away,

    He really is something else. 

/ / / / / /

I post my writings on wattpad but nobody seems to be seeing them there so I'm posting them here as well <3 if you have requests put them in my ask box, I think it's set up, I just made this new account so i'll have to check lol, thx for reading !