#though he knows how to code switch and is trying for this interview

[coyotetatertot]

Promotional for Tate's company in my interp of A Better World AU.

FULL TEXT BENEATH THE CUT‼️‼️

God, I love exploring what he can do if he hadn't suffered through his father abandoning them and then YEARS of caretaker burnout as he tried in vain to heal his dad. What if he hadn't learned to fear his intellect and skill. What if Appalachia hadn't been cut out of him by being raised in the Bay Area. What if his abilities and cultural identity were both nurtured and encouraged by loving parents and a strong educational support system. What then. 👁️

I think he definitely still has his issues, because public figures often do lol. Fame causes so many problems. But fuck if I don't wanna let this lil scruffy genius out of his mental cage of repression, burnout, and depression. I think he's wild, enthusiastic, and has so much heart and spirit underneath all those layers of bullshit. 30 years of suffering and he is in his 30s, the divergence of the AU puts him on a radically different path from childhood and that makes him a TOTALLY new person.

On the highest peaks in the world, the strongest tethers aren't your rope, but the emotional ties which unite your climbing team and keep you connected to those waiting for you back home. Whether it's by blood or by choice, Tater Higgs McGucket understands the importance of family. Son of revolutionary inventor and co-founder of the Institute of Oddology Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, Tate describes his father as his closest friend, collaborator, and mentor. In collaboration with family friend and other co-founder of the Institute Stanford ("Ford") Pines, the three first designed their renowned supplemental oxygen delivery system after an expedition studying anomalies in the Himalayas.

"Our investigation took us to Camp 1 of Manaslu," Tate described in an exclusive interview with Mountaineering Monthly last week, "And I was shocked by the amount of traffic. This was some of the roughest terrain on the planet, but we saw more people out there than on some of my hiking trips back home in Oregon. . . Ford was our interpreter, and after talking with the locals, we realized that there were all these companies selling tickets to the top — with sherpas puttin' themselves on the line just to ferry tourists to the summit."

The influx of inexperienced climbers has had disastrous consequences, as Tate witnessed firsthand. "A lot of these people, they're physically and mentally capable of makin' that kinda climb, but maybe they don't follow best practice. You can summit without any oxygen, if ya stop and acclimatize along the way. But that takes a while, so it can be really temptin' to ignore your body and throw an oxygen bandaid at the problem. But then you're puttin' yourself in an emergency situation if it fails. While we were there, one of those climbers ran out, and a sherpa had to run more oxygen up there. I told him there was a storm a-comin', but he went up anyway. And we ended up losin' 'em both."

Tate's growing twang was underscored by a nervous bouncing of his leg, and he took a moment to collect himself before resuming the interview.

"Dad and I had a look at these open circuit breathing apparatuses. While they were reliable, we saw they were plum wasteful. Knew we could make somethin' better. There's a growin' culture of risk-takin' 'round them mountains. And maybe we cain't stop the industry that's causin' these problems, but we can at least make it safer for them climbers. 'Cuz at the end of the day, regardless of what ya think about these people? With an accident like that, there’s people left behind that're a-hurtin' somethin' fierce. Partners, friends, kids without parents. I mean, just the thought of losin' my dad like that is enough to break my heart — but that's reality, for both the families of that climber and the sherpa who died tryin' to save him. . . Naw, I reckon we can do better."

That was how the youngest McGucket, who had become a household name in the 1990s for his work in designing personal computers with his father's company, first ventured into the world of alpinism. But what he hadn't expected was to fall in love during the process.

"I always needed nature," he explained, "I get overstimulated awfully easy, and so I go out there to clear my head. Been hikin' and fishin' since I was a kid. . . And so, after workin' with climbers to test this equipment — I saw a lot of them eight-thousanders up close, right? And one day, I just knew I had to see it from the top."

But having become familiar with the dangers involved, Tate knew that preparing himself for such a climb would be no easy task.

Luckily, he found a trainer in Ford's twin brother, Stanley Pines.

“Stanley is a stand-up guy. Real old school. Throws a hell of a punch, catches a hell of a catfish.” Tate said of his mentor, “He’s a fighter. So I knew I needed him, because all it takes is one slip up or act of god for these expeditions to turn life-or-death. And he’s been great. Neither of us knew much about rock climbin’ or mountaineering before all this. But we’ve learned together. And having summited a few eight-thousanders now, I can tell ya, I wouldn’t be here without his help.”

Also aiding in his expeditions were his prototype real-time weather and vital monitoring systems, which have since become standard issue in all McGucket brand protective wear. But Tate is most proud of his high-frequency beacon system, which allows climbers to communicate with their partners and first responders — even from inside perilous crevasses.

"The danger of avalanche or serac collapse is real. There are times when your life just ain’t in your own hands. Our systems allow climbers to communicate when they’re entering or exiting a perilous area, and can send out an SOS. They’re also constantly pinging, so in the event somethin’ does happen, they’ll help your climbing partners or first responders find you.”

But high altitudes aren’t the only place you’ll find the twin peaks of McGucket Mountaineering. Tate’s inventions have seen heavy use by first responders of all stripes, from firefighters to wilderness search and rescue — and he has recently signed a contract to manufacture respirators for medical use.

"At the end of the day, it’s all about making it home safely.” Tate concluded, “You gotta prioritize what matters most. You can do incredible things in this world, but none of it matters if you can’t share them with the people who love you.”

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Intern! Randy: RC9GN AU

So, I've decided to retouch on the fic and figure why not talk about it a little!

For those who are aware of the older posts, intern! Randy is a canon divergent storyline (set sometime in between the two seasons-) where it follows Viceroy's - I mean McFist, duh, latest plan to capture the Ninja. While I like to think they know the Ninja's a student, they're still under the impression it's an 800-year-old immortal and not literally a teenager for ahems reasons. Viceroy suggests the best way to uncover the Ninja's identity is by hosting an internship program for Norrisville High students.

Somehow, through silly cartoonish ways, Randy lands the interview though I like to think he still has skills Viceroy would be interested in (such as math). Things are going well at first surprisingly, and of course no one is suspecting a thing but then McFist - who isn't entirely as dumb as a bag of rocks - starts putting two and two together, realizing Randy sounds and acts somewhat like the Ninja. Though given how Viceroy has seen Randy's clumsiness, he easily dismisses it- thinking it's one of McFist's insane assumptions.

At some point because McFist is hardly subtle, Randy discovers the true purpose of the internship program - only he can't exactly quit without arising suspicion and decides he might as well use being an intern to his advantage. Deciding to keep each other on their toes, between McFist still convinced Randy could be the Ninja and Randy trying to stop their plans, things are only a mess waiting to happen.

Now on to my favorite part!

Due to the nature of this AU, I like to think that the Sorcerer isn't so involved just to further push the adoptive father-son narrative I want between Viceroy and Randy. This is going to be a fairly lighthearted and comedic storyline, but I felt like covering other stuff that might be included too!

Thoughts for Intern! Randy

One thing I thought of was the idea that Randy lives at the McFist manor-? Now, I will say Viceroy lives there too since that seems vaguely implied in canon- (and because I said so, duh). Instead of Randy having to commute so much, at least it saves him time in getting to McFist Industries.

Randy happens to be good at coding since it makes sense to me- like, the hyperfixation of video games aside, I just thought it would be neat but guess what: I, in fact, do not know coding so bear with me here. On the account of I wanted to, I also felt it would be a great way for Viceroy and him to bond- also that if Viceroy is somehow involved in the production of video games (sort of, if you count "Weinerman Up" as an example of this!), then Randy's going to flock to him more than McFist.

I do think there's the potential that Bash and Randy get a little closer, but they're not fully friends - they just learn to tolerate each other a little better.

Due to some potentially wacky shenanigans, I do like to think Viceroy eventually catches on there's something strange going on with Randy- if the odd timing's between his disappearances and the Ninja's sudden arrival isn't already a strange coincidence. (coughs except every adult in the show is stupid coughs)

But moving on!

I am honestly just looking forward to the other general shenanigans that may happen in this because- there's a lot that has to be considered if, well, everyone's convinced the Ninja is literally 800 years old. Like are they just blind?? (or is it some ancient magic coming into play whenever the mantle is handed down to the next freshman because Finja was absolutely not a freshman- when did the switch happen to freshmen being the ones to take on the title? I'll talk about this later, as per usual)

Anyway-

There's probably going to be some angst coming into play, but nothing too major because the purpose of this AU is honestly pretty light in comparison to say, The Kitsune and the Ninja or ITNV. Though I want to keep things interesting- hence why other stuff will be coming into play eventually.

Now unfortunately, I am considered scrapping the original WIP and making it slightly more interesting because my latest introductions to the fanfics have felt somewhat boring in comparison to what I could write. Though without much further ado, I hope you come to enjoy this!

I don't have the slightest clue when the fanfic will be complete, but hopefully this will be soon!

[probatiostudies]

Not necessarily a hot take but a highly improbable one!!

I personally can’t distinguish yet, with 100% confidence, who the “bad” guys are on Quesadilla Island. There’s so much at play, different relationships between residents, and the extent of knowledge that we have on each individual varies so much!

BUT what I am starting to wonder is, if in the very likely case that it really is The Federation vs. The Code Entities, could we experience an outcome where the egg children are left alone?

See, if the Code Entities are against the Federation, for whatever reason, then what if they’ve mistaken the egg children as part of he Federation? Rightfully so as well, considering, and correct me if I’m wrong, that announcements by Mr. Duck is what lead the residents to discover the egg children at the adoption center, and we can try and assume Mr. Duck is related to The Federation, thanks to q!Philza’s interview with one of the security guards.

Also for an undetermined reason, the Code Entities want the island residents on their side. We can assume that right? And I say that it’s for a undetermined reason because it could just be for the manpower, to have the majority of the island following them. Who knows! But the evidence of something like this lies in the Code Entities’ interactions with q!Etoiles, rewarding him with powerful weapons, albeit however reluctantly, and last asking him to let them know which of the island residents work for the Federation. (Code Entities, y’all go f*cking insane with that!!)

So now I want to tie this back to the egg children, considering recent developments with Codeflippa. Granted, I wasn’t able to watch whatever happened yesterday when Codeflippa was seen by the other island residents, but bless Tumblr for the updates and fellow theories/thoughts! Listen, Codeflippa is pretty against the Federation. They’re satisfied that q!Slime doesn’t care for the Federation, and I believe some of their interactions with the island residents yesterday revealed the same interest in having people against them.

The biggest problem for Codeflippa though, is the fact that they’re most definitely a Code Entity, and what did the Code Entities do previously, historically before their training arc with q!Etoiles?

They became the #1 danger for the egg children, successfully taking lives from Dapper & Bobby, and first failed to impersonate the egg children by enraging notorious observer q!Philza, who knew all of his egg children’s quirks and immediately clocked the difference.

I don’t know how else to say it, but I think the Code Entities, perhaps even young in their being, immediately targeted the egg children because they were the most accessible relations to the Federation (and we kind of have to acknowledge the possibility of that being true, what with Egg A1). Somewhere along the line, they realized direct attacks wasn’t the right approach, and switched to impersonating the egg children to get closer to the island residents, whether that was to gain access past the security measures protecting the actual egg children, or to sway island residents to their side like q!Etoiles.

With that, I’m thinking there’s a very small chance Code Entities like Codeflippa might let the egg children have a chance at life, if they can become aware of how the egg children love and align with their parents instead of whatever place they’ve come from. Them impersonating the egg children means they’re already aware of the weight of these relationships, to an extent, and I think that leaves a lot of possibilities! These Code Entities are learning, we’re seeing that with Codeflippa, we kind of saw that is the way the code impersonating Bobby was different from Tilin’s and Trumpet’s.

Just, let me think there’s a happy ending to all this, yk? 🫠

[idonatedallofmyinternalorgans]

Candle’s whole exit interview but I wrote it while moving

You’re very welcome

Indigo: Welcome dear listeners my name is [idfk what they said] and I could not be more eager for today’s guest. No one carries a more powerful presence, she’s a voice in the wind that I long to capture even the slightest murmur of. In the darkest of times, she offers all the guiding light. Prepare yourself, mortals, for Inanimate Insanity’s own.. Candle!

Candle: Thank you for the hyper aesthetic introduction, Indigo. You truly set the scene in a manner that could not possibly be broken by any manner of interruption.

Indigo: Thanks? Hmm, that’s awfully specific.

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Candle: And there it is, the return to your carefully crafted atmosphere. Despite the pause, your enthusiasm is already healing the deep wound in my soul.

Indigo: I’m glad to hear it. So, Did you actually feel hurt by this elimination? Cause if-so, it seems like you must’ve held back emotions when you got voted out, even Mephone said you were oddly calm.

Candle: To be honest, I always had sensed my time was drawing near. In fact, I felt as though I was dodging the thralls of time ever since I avoided the elimination in Episode 11. Perhaps I have been running on borrowed time ever since. It was only a matter of time.

Indigo: Oh, so in that case, Do you feel it’s worth staying on Indefinite Island for another chance?

Candle: Oh yes, I will be staying on Indefinite Island. I still feel that I have a purpose here in the game.

Indigo: Fantastic, I’m sure there’s still lots you can do here on the island while you wait, like your aura stand. How do you read auras?

Candle: It’s definitely an art. To put it as simply as I can, I use my third eye chakra to see into the depths of an individual soul. An aura is emitted during this process and the rest flows out naturally. In a sense, it’s communicating with someone as they bear their soul.

Indigo: Ohh! Speaking of which, you’ve had so many great connections out in the game. Do you think you may have made it any farther is Silver Spoon wasn’t a contestant? Or do you think he was helpful in how far you got?

Candle: Who can say? The strings of fate are ever unwinding and intertwining in new ways. I guess it would have just depended upon what type of game I wish to play. I will say this; there was a time I was sure he’d move on like everyone else, but had not. It was.. fascinating.

Indigo: Absolutely. I just want to say that you played a great game! But what is your biggest regret?

Candle: Thank you so much. That really means the world. I suppose it may be how I dealt with Yin-Yang when moving away from the Thinkers or rather, lack thereof, meeting Yin and Yang was definitely a highlight of my journey and I’m so proud of their personal growth. On a separate thought, I wish I would have started to play for myself a little sooner. I was so enthralled with aiding in my teammates’ victories and personal growth, that I may have forgotten about myself for too long. I’ve learned that it’s okay to take time to take care of oneself as well. Healthy body, happy mind, healthy aura, happy life.

Indigo: This question came from a viewer in the middle of an emergency, which is why I saved it until now. Let’s just see here.. Candle? I forgot how to breathe.

Candle: Oh my! Quick, call Dr Fizz!

Indigo: Great idea, I’ll message this listener with your advice long after this interview.

Candle: Praise the Earth Mother

Indigo: Next question. Candle, do you think Silver has any chance of winning the game?

Candle: Yes indeed. He’ll have a one in six chance; who’d have thought?

Indigo: Not me, it’s a steep competition. Did you ever feel threatened by anyone in the game, both strategy-wise and challenge-wise?

Candle: Oh, absolutely! Nickel and Balloon’s baneful friendship made for a formidable alliance, even if Balloon may have been wearing some rose tinted glasses. I’d also say Clover, as her lucky abilities defy the laws of fate and nature altogether. Although, how is one truly to compete with that? She is sweet though.

Indigo: Very sweet indeed. What is your favourite thing to do in your free time?

Candle: This may surprise you, but I do enjoy playing tabletop RPGs. I love creating stories with my friends. My favourite class is warlock.

Indigo: Hm, feels fitting, well with you and your magical abilities. Why is it that when you had swapped bodies with Silver, he couldn’t fly when he put out your flame?

Candle: Oh, Indigo, one cannot learn to fly by pouring water onto oneself.

Indigo: Ahh, of course. Will you teach me how to fly?

Candle: Step one, remove water out of the equation.

Indigo: ..remove water.. also noted. But any insight in general into how your Inner-Flame works?

Candle: Well, ‘works’ implies a sense of ability. As though I’m tapping into some whimsical superpower. However, while the Inner-Flame shares my soul, it carries a mind of its own. That’s why when someone connects to it, they best be wary, lest it consume you. But we’re on pretty nice terms, so we’re fine.

Indigo: Oh.. wow. I’m not quite sure if the flying is quite worth a hassle. Nextly, why is it that you decide to split up Balloon and Nickel? They were fun!

Candle: You mean at the glacier challenge? Well, Silver and I had established ourselves as key players of the Loony-Balloony alliance, as the two who ensured their survival against the Thinkers, the next step was to ensure that we weren’t the lowest on the pecking order. Therefore, poking at the inherently unstable relationship between Balloon and Nickel was our surest bet disrupting their trio with Bot. However, witnessing the aftermath, even I was surprised at how quick their bond was to snap. I sense that if they cannot work this out soon, it will be their downfall.

Indigo: Ooh, spooky. Following all of the craziness in that last vote, do you respect Balloon’s decision for voting for you?

Candle: Yes and no. Yes because he made a strategic choice. Can’t hold it against him if you’re participating in a game like Inanimate Insanity. And no because part of me feels like he may have been swayed into it by a certain someone who is just as strategic.

Indigo: You made plenty of bold strategic decisions as well. How do you feel about the whole villain arc you went through? Did it feel good?

Candle: Goodness! Me, a villain? Was it really that bad of me to want to try and focus on my own needs for once? My teammates had all started to find their own paths, and I felt like I was soon to be left behind. Such as the nature of the game. If being there for myself when I felt lost makes me a villain, then I guess it was an arc for me.

Indigo: I hear you. Speaking of villains, to wrap this up, I’d love to know how it feels to have left Silver Spoon behind. He was very sad to see you were eliminated, not sure if he’s the same.

Candle: Was he now? Interesting. Perhaps we will need to reconnect regarding that.

Indigo: Wonderfully vague as always! Thank you, Candle! Best of luck whenever the rejoin challenge comes along. And to our Inanimate audience, a very special thank you for all of your questions. Curiosity is a powerful thing! Be sure to subscribe to catch the next opportunity to have your question read. This has been Indigo Zircon Rose with IPR, signing off!

[nevermindirah]

Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

[epic-sorcerer]

Queer imagery in BBC Merlin

Content warning: kink/fetish, fisting in particular but I show I big image containing a long list of different kinks, homophobia, dom/sub dynamics, sex

Merlin is shown wearing a purple tunic in s4, despite the fact he is a servant and purple(especially with such saturation) was extremely expensive bc purple dye was so hard to make. Gwen also has a light purple dress(or maybe 2? It’s hard to tell). Even though it’s definitely lighter than Merlins tunic, it’s still expensive.

it was illegal for peasants to wear expensive fabrics because of the Sumptuary Law. Basically it makes sure that lower class people are not fashionable. However, BBC Merlin doesn’t seam to care about that law, considering Merlins other bright clothing so take this was a grain of salt.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that there’s no way they could have gotten their hands on these clothes without the help of nobles. Gwen might have, because she works with clothing and could have easily mixed blue and red dye together. Merlin probably not have because he’s never shown to be particularly materialistic or interested much in fashion, despite his bright clothes. Bright Purple would have been much, much harder to get.

It makes the most sense for Merlin and possibly Gwen too to have been gifted such expensive clothing by a noble for being a good servant. I’d imagine Arthur would be the one to give Merlin the tunic and morgana the dresses.

Why does this matter? Lavender(and also purple in general) was considered a queer color starting in the 19th century. Queer men especially were said to possess a “streak of lavender” and a serge of homophobia at the time was often referred to as the “Lavender Scare.” Purple and lavender is still used now to symbolize queerness.

Since Merlin is a modern interpretation of Arthurian myths, it would be perfectly plausible that this symbol was on purpose. Merlin/Arthur and Gwen/Morgana are both extremely popular ships and they are both shown to have a very deep form of trust(Gwen/Morgana being at the beginning of the show). Arthur and Morgana gifting Merlin and Gwen purple clothing could be show them they accept their queerness and/or signaling their own queer attraction to them.

Now, this next symbolism concerns only Merlin/Arthur.

Merlin is shown to have three neckerchiefs.

Navy blue, red, and light grey. Why does this matter? Well, let’s take a look at something called the handkerchief code, also known as the hanky code or “flagging.”

This code has its origins all the way back in time during the Wild West in the USA, but got more popular during the late 20th century in USA and UK gay bars. This code was used mainly by queer men and some nonbinary people to signal to other queers what they wanted sexually. While typically worn in people’s back pockets, a handkerchief could also be worn around one’s neck to show they are a versatile and experienced.

According to this code, Merlin is into;

Red: fisting and getting fisted. This color was hard to get an exact shade from, but the second best option was dark red for double fisting which is honestly so similar I’m not sure if it really matters much.

Light grey: stone topping and getting fucked by a stone top

Navy blue: fucking and being fucked anally

For any one wanting to make their own interpretations of Merlins neckerchief colors(the lighting makes it hard to tell the exact ones) have a look at this handy chart

Not only that, but Arthur is seen wearing a favour on his left arm in s3 ep 4.

What’s a favour? It’s a fabric strip of affection commonly given by maidens to knights before a tournament as a symbol of good luck. It’s often a very important scarf, hankcerchlif , towel, really any bit of cloth that can be tied around someone’s arm. This is also a popular trope in historical media for a female love interest to give a favour to a male one to show chemistry between them.

Regardless of your stance on Merlins gender identity, you have to admit how commonly Merlin is shown to be gender nonconforming(GNC) or otherwise be associated with “womanly” qualities. Especially in a society so heteronormative, the only “pure” option for a knight receiving a romantic gesture would have it be from a woman. If the token was from a queer man, it would also out the noble and cause lots of horrific chaos and destroy both of their reputations.

Even if it was common for women to give knights favours, queer men still existed and with that came romantic gestures—this time hopefully more secret.

Even though the favour on Arthur’s arm doesn’t look exactly like Merlin’s neckerchief, Merlin was the only person to speak with him while preparing for the tournament. Also, the original theorist who I linked in my sources also pointed out that Merlins neckerchief looks lopsided. Almost like Merlin tore off a bit of it and hastily tied it back on.

Although this theory is definitely flawed, it doesn’t matter. Arthur is still wearing a red handkerchief on his left arm. But what does that tell us exactly?

Regardless of wether or not it was Merlin’s, the red is the same shade and also implies Arthur is also into fisting. What about the placement? Sicne it’s on his left, it shows that he is a top/dom, meaning that he prefers to be the one fisting. Since it is worn around his upper arm, it shows that he is simply into the fetish, compared to what other placements mean. In another source, it shows taht upper arm means switch, but because Arthur is wearing it on his left it wouldn’t really make sense for him to signal being a “top-switch” compared to being a top and having the fetish in general.

If you look closely, you can see a different colored stripe on the favour. It’s hard to tell exactly what the color is, it could be yellow, gold, orange, etc. because the color is so dubious, I’ll just leave y’all with a list of color meanings that may apply to Arthur’s favour.

YELLOW: pisser/watersports kink

YELLOW, Pale: spitter/spit kink

MUSTARD: Has 8+ inch dick

GOLD: two looking for one

ORANGE: anything anytime

Also, it’s important to bring up what many in thsi fandom refer to as the “fisting scene.” Where Arthur threatens Merlin by showing him his gloved fist and pulling a bit at the glove.

In the blooper, you can see Merlin’s actor(Colin Morgan) breaking character and giggling as Arthur shows him his fist. Many in the fandom agree that this was a clear innuendo for fisting, and it is very well possible.

Merlin is shown hitting Arthur and saying he was just doing some horse play, but still indirectly convincing Arthur that he needs to teach Merlin a lesson. This is actually a common act in BDSM sex, where the submissive person purposely angers the dominant into punishing them in a way that somehow involves sex or fetish play.

If you look closely, you can see Merlin is wearing at kinky red fisting handkerchief, showing Merlin is perfectly capable of being a submissive fistee. Also, the hanky code also includes other symbols such as latex or rubber gloves that, surprise surprise, also mean fisting. Although it’s more likely Arthur’s gloves where made of leather, it can still further be interpreted as a fisting symbol if you want. Either way, Arthur’s favour still holds water as he is undoubtedly the dom in this situation.

Also, Merlin is very impulsive and a madlad. Tell me he wouldn’t wear his secret fetish symbols infrount of stuck up, Roman Catholics who are none the wiser. He’d probably think it’s hilarious which is probably why he wears them almost everyday. Merlin loves playfully misbehaving(and is also a brat sometimes) so it makes sense for him to have some dangerous fun.

Now, you may be asking. Why does this matter? At the end of the day, it probably wasn’t intentional. Well, there is alwyas room for doupt BUT I do have some ferther proof. One of the co writers of BBC Merlin—Johnny Capps—actually won a Stone Wall Award. You know, an award named after a core part of queer culture?

The award’s website and Wikipedia page say they give the award for art that describes the LGBT experience well. While I am unsure why or what Capps made to be nominated, it still shows he is very much in touch with queer culture. Capp himself even said at an interview about Merlin, “... in the end, deep, deep down it’s about sexuality and things you just can’t tackle head-on.”

Well, what says more about sexuality than the main characters fist fucking each other? That’s a lot of sexuality. While I am unsure of Capp’s age, he does look to be about middle age and it would make sense for him to know about a code popularized in a 70s to 90s. Especially for someone who has made multiple queer oriented stories in his life time.

Sources:

Why is purple considered the color of royalty?

Sumptuary law

How lavender became a symbol of LGBTQ resistance

How Lavender Became a Symbol of LGBTQ Resistance(part 2)

flagging opinicus rampant

Handkerchief code

DO YOU KNOW THE HANKY CODE?

Picspam: The Red Favour (Proof of Arthur Wearing Merlin's Favour in 3x04)

Five medieval love tokens

The Lady's Favour

Hanky codes

Nominees for Stonewall Awards announced

Merlin series 5 spoiler-free launch report

Pls reblog I spent hours on this /np 😭👊

[stele3]

I wanna talk a little bit more about Interview With the Vampire on AMC, in particular the choice to make Louis a Black man.

First, I wanna say, I’m white. I don’t know shit about what it means to be Black. But what I do find fascinating is how much Louis code-switches during the series. He changes accents, dialects, and mannerisms depending on who he speaks to, in three major groups: his family, his business associates, and Lestat.

There’s one scene where he kind of desperately switches between all three, and that’s the scene where Lestat comes to dinner with Louis’ family.

(I don’t know how to edit pictures well, so please forgive the grainy darkness.)

First, there’s the obvious social difference of having a white man at the table, much less one whom Louis has a) business dealings with and b) some kind of as-of-yet unspoken attraction to. I would bet this is the first time that Louis has ever brought a “business associate” home, especially considering the kind of racist assholes that he usually has to deal with. Certainly it’s the first time that he’s ever brought home a man to whom he has an as-of-yet unspoken attraction to, whatever his family knows about his homosexuality (Grace, at least, seems to know something).

The way Louis shifts gears in this scene depending on the conversation and who he’s talking to is fascinating. When Lestat brings up the opera, Louis switches to the more AAVE-influenced dialogue that he frequently uses in scenes with his family, so that he can bring himself “down” to their level.

Lestat notices right away and gives him a Look, though he doesn’t comment on it until later.

Then Paul asks Lestat what his relationship is with Louis and everyone around the table has an Oh Shit moment, because apparently everyone was trying not to mention the Big Gay Not-Secret in the room. Lestat tries to play them off as business associates.

And it’s Notable, I think, that Louis stays silent through this exchange. Despite the fact that, up until now, he’s mostly interacted with Lestat on an ostensibly business-oriented exchange -- meeting him at the rival brothel, helping him update his wardrobe, getting him set up in their his townhouse -- he doesn’t slide into his business persona during this exchange, which is one of two personas, actually: the brutal pimp of Liberty, who put a knife to his brother’s throat, or the deferential Black businessman who has to be a little subservient to white businessmen in order to get by.

Then, Paul goes the religious angle and Lestat loses his temper.

 Louis notices right away that Lestat is having some kind of effect on Paul and intervenes.

He snaps at Lestat directly, telling him, “Not wit my family.” I use the AAVE very deliberately: Louis is a blend of his personas in that moment, the family and Lestat personas. Lestat reacts and backs off, switching on his own family-related persona.

It’s a fascinating scene in terms of the by-play between these two men but mostly because of the different personas that Louis has to be with different people in his life.

[goddesswritings]

“Can I slap her for you?” - Corpse Husband | Part One

Title: “Can I slap her for you?” – Part One

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader

Summary: Being stuck living with the queen of YouTube drama and partying during the pandemic has seriously worn down your patience. Meeting Pokimane has changed your life for the better, making Among Us a pivotal part of your life.

Word Count: 5.3k

I’m always writing so much plot! I hope you like it. Part Two is in the works.

********

Credit to PIC owner!

This pandemic was hell for you. Being stuck in this apartment with your bitch of a sister was not something you would wish on even your enemy.

When you first moved to LA with her, things were fine, and you got along. She had a budding YouTube career, and you were working a good job. Pretty quickly, she’d hired you as her editor since that was a daily part of your real job, you happily agreed because it meant you could get money on the side and still work.

Your sister was mainly a beauty YouTuber but last year she gained over 3 million followers when she started a series where she would interview people in other lines of entertainment and then test it out. Since then, she’d become a horror to live with.

Now with the pandemic, you’d been furloughed from you day job and working full time for your diva of a sister. She had only been getting worse and worse. Being stuck with her was crap, especially since she was selfish and still went out to party and do collabs with people like there wasn’t a massive virus out there.

“I hope you finished the editing I needed done.” Olivia, your sister, asked as she shut the front door.

You were just finishing up the edits from your spot on the couch. “Yeah, I did it while you were out risking lives.”

“Shut the hell up. I’m an adult and I can do what I want.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Even when it’s killing hundreds of thousands of people?” You were so sick of her attitude. She has no care in the world for anyone but herself. In the last month, her name had been posted all over the commentary YouTubers channels. Slamming her for partying while the world dealt with Covid.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Those people are not my problem at all. If they are so afraid, they should just stay home.”

“Why are you so selfish?” Her behavior was completely out of hands these days.

“Do I need to remind you that I pay you?” She sent you a glare before heading off to her room. You grumbled and threw your head back. There was no way you could handle her.

Stressing out over her was no good, so you decided to take your laptop back to your room and play some games to calm yourself down. Among Us was one of those games that allowed to you just play and forget the stress. You booted up the game and joined some random lobbies. It was hard to find good games because you usually ran into some sour players who couldn’t just play the game without causing drama.

A few rounds in, your phone buzzed, indicating a text. You exited the current game, one of the imposters had already killed you anyway, and picked up the phone. There was a text from Poki. The two of you had become quick friends when she appeared on your sisters series but she clicked more with you since you were more of a gamer.

P: Hey Y/n, what are you doing currently?

It was an unexpected text because you had been fairly sure Poki had a stream tonight.

Y/n: Nothing since I just finished editing my selfish sisters video. What’s up?

She knew very well how horrible Olivia was and she’d been the one person who you could talk to about it. You appreciated her for it.

Poki: Damn, did she go to another party?

Y/n: Yup, she sure did. Then threatened my job when I called her out on it.

Poki: Wow, not cool. Hey, so you know how I’m streaming tonight?

Y/n: Yeah.

Poki: So I had everyone set up for the game but last minute someone dropped out. We need one more person and I know you’re amazing in Among Us. Would you join our game?

This was a surprise. You weren’t a YouTuber or a streamer, so for her to ask you, meant she really was desperate.

Y/n: Sure, I’m free. Who’s playing tonight?

Poki: Rae, Lily, Ethan, Mark, Felix, Toast, Sykkuno, and Corpse.

Wow, that was a packed game full of some pretty big names. Your nerves kicked up at the thought of being in a game with these amazing people.

Y/n: Sweet!

Poki: I will send you the discord so you can join the chat and the game code.

Y/n: Thanks.

She instantly sent you the links and you got your self set up with your headphones. Poki connected you into the discord call.

“Hey, everyone welcome my good friend, Y/n. She’s the one who will fill in on the open spot tonight.” She introduced you to the group.

A chorus of hello’s was heard. You knew Rae, so she jumped right into welcoming you.

Pushing the nerves away, you managed to little hello. Your voice was softer than you’d intended. Damn nerves.

“Guys! Y/n is so good in Among Us. Her skills rival Corpse’s.” Rae gushed. You’d played a game with Rae and Poki and a few of the other girls, but no one had been streaming.

“Whaddup baby.” The deep voice of Corpse said. His voice was something else.

“Don’t make her too nervous there, man.” Felix commented which made the other guys laugh.

“Oh no worries, I’m not nervous.” You said even though you really were nervous. You switched into the game and typed in the code Poki had sent you. Immediately the game lobby popped up, filled with everyone who was on the call. Your character popped onto the screen and took the white color.

“Good to know. I look forward to being an imposter with you.” Corpse said making your cheeks heat up just a little.

“You really need to watch out for her.” Lily said making you giggle. She was right. You were a deceitful imposter.

You quickly changed your hat to the halo, making you match your chosen username, Angel.

“Look how fitting her character is.” Mark commented. “Is that an indication of how you will be?”

“Perhaps.” You were starting to calm your nerves. “You will just have to find out.”

“Okay, let’s get started.” Poki said as the countdown started on screen. You muted your mic. The screen flashed the crew-mate title, and you felt a little more relieved. You hated starting as an imposter.

The map you were in was Polus, your favorite. The first thing you did, was the navigation task before also doing keys. Nearly everyone was there, which meant the two imposters were faking the tasks. After that, you ran off entering the building that housed electrical and o2. You looked around for tasks.

“I have my eye on you, Angel.” Felix said as he came into o2.

You unmuted your mic. “Good, then you can watch me teach you how to do tasks.” You sassed, making the group laugh.

“Damn, I already like her.” Ethan said, getting sounds of approval from Sykkuno, Mark, and Corpse.

“Stop simping and play the game.” Poki commented, making you laugh.

Leaving o2, you ran outside to check the weather nodes. Felix was still following you closely. He was convinced you were an Imposter.

“Why is this guy following me around?” You asked, trying to run from him.

“Felix, what are you doing?” Rae asked as she popped up beside you.

“Making sure she’s not an imposter.” He sounded innocent.

“Well I’m not. Now go do your tasks.” Once again you ran from his character and entered the office. You passed Corpse’s black character before heading in, to do card swipe.

Suddenly a body was reported. Felix’s body.

“Whoa, okay, Y/n did you kill Felix?” Toast asked.

“What? No? I left him to go do my tasks.” You defended.

“I can confirm she was in office with me. I watched her do card swipe.” Corpse added.

The thing was, you passed him as he was leaving the office, and he definitely didn’t stay to watch you. He was headed in the direction you had left Felix and Rae. So, both were sus.

“Okay, then Rae where were you?” Sykkuno questioned.

“I left Felix by weapons. I was headed to lab.” You couldn’t decipher a lie from her.

“Hmmm, okay. Skip then?” Ethan offered. The group agreed.

Once back in the game, you decided to head to labs to find the rest of your tasks. Sykkuno followed you but broke off to go through decontamination. You did your scan in peace before another body was reported. This time it had been both Mark and Lily.

“Any sus?” Ethan asked.

“No, I was in electrical.” Toast said.

“I went to o2.” Poki added.

“Y/n, where were you?” Toast questioned. You were sure he thought you were an imposter.

“I was in the lab doing my scan, which I never got to finish.” You hated being interrupted mid-task.

“Anyone see her go there?”

“I passed her while I headed to decontamination.” Sykkuno vouched for you.

“Sure but the body was right outside the lab. She could have gone back to kill Mark after you were gone.”

“But I didn’t. I was doing my task.” You repeated with a little smile. You loved this game.

“Sure. I don’t believe you.” Toast was a hard one to convince.

“She didn’t do it. I entered lab and she was doing her scan.” Corpse spoke up. Again he was covering for you when you know he was not in Lab with you.

“Okay. I guess we skip?” Poki said. Everyone agreed but when it was done, you had two votes but three had skipped, so you had been spared luckily. Toast for sure voted for you, you had no clue who else did but it didn’t matter.

Back in the game, you headed back to lab to finish your scan. Once done, you headed to decontamination, then to the specimen room for a task. As you entered, you found Corpse.

“Hey Corpse, having fun with your tasks?” You asked as you went to your own task.

“I sure am.” He stated before his character was running out of the room and up to the lab. Once your task was done, you had finished all your tasks and headed back to Admin. You entered office to find a dead Sykkuno, so you hit report.

“That was for sure a self-report.” Toast quickly said.

“It wasn’t, but okay.” You said shaking your head. Toast was so sus on you all game.

“I’m sus of Toast.” Rae said while Corpse and Poki agreed with her.

“Wait, Ethan is dead too. Damn, these Imposters got around.” Toast commented. “By the way, I am not an Imposter. Y/n is.”

“She’s not. I have seen her do her tasks all game.” Corpse was quick to come to your rescue. It was sweet how he was vouching for you all game.

“Sure, I’m voting Y/n.” Toast said as his ‘I Voted’ badge popped up.

You decided you were going to vote off Toast because he was getting on your nerves. Apparently the others were feeling the same because everyone else voted off Toast as well. His character was launched into the Lava. Toast was NOT an Imposter.

Back in the game, you ran around, just seeing if you could spot anyone being sus before Poki was killed. Straight after the defeat title showed, and the Imposters were revealed to be none other than Rae and Corpse.

Everyone dropped back into the lobby.

“I told you I wasn’t an Imposter.” You boasted.

“Sorry Y/n, I should have believed you.” Toast said.

“No worries. But hey, Corpse and Rae had plenty of chances to kill me, but they didn’t. Why?” It was interesting to you.

Rae laughed. “I didn’t want to kill you right in the beginning of your first game with us. You deserved to have some fun before you got killed.”

“Well thank you.” It was sweet of Rae to do that.

“I didn’t want to kill an Angel. It wouldn’t be right.” Corpse stated with a cute laugh afterwards.

Felix groaned. “But you have no issue killing anyone else.”

“It be like that sometimes.” Ethan stated which had you in stitches, as well as the rest of the group. “Okay, let’s begin another round.” He added.

The next few games were fun and interesting. You were always a crew member, but someone was always sus on you. But no matter what, Corpse would vouch for you. Sometimes his character would follow you around, do tasks with you. It was pretty freaking cute and clear to see the man with the alluring deep voice had taken a liking to you. It was sweet.

“One more game?” Poki asked after a slew of other games. Everyone agreed. She started the game and after the countdown, the screen flashed that you were finally an Imposter. Your fellow Imposter was of course Corpse. It was only natural.

You and he teamed up and killed many of the others. Starting with Rae and Lily, moving onto Toast and Sykkuno. Then someone finally reported the bodies.

“Four bodies already?” Mark stated as the red x’s showed up on their icons.

“Damn, someone is having fun.” You said, pretending like it wasn’t you who had done half of the killing.

“I saw Poki headed into Electrical where Lily and Rae were.” Corpse said, sounding genuine as always. He was so good at Imposter. His ability to lie was excellent.

“Sure I went to Electrical, but I left after fixing the lights.” Poki said.

“I don’t know. You seem sus.” Ethan said. “I saw you enter lab, and after I saw Sykunno’s body right before someone reported Lily and Rae’s.”

“I swear, it’s not me. I was just doing my tasks. How could I kill four people in that short amount of time?”

“It’s possible. You could have vented.” Corpse was right too.

“Guys, please.” She pleaded as everyone put in their votes. Nearly everyone had voted for Poki and her character was launched into the lava, only to show she was not an Imposter.

“Sorry Poki.” Ethan said before everyone hopped back into the game.

Once again, you and Corpse were teamed up, but you saw Mark head one way while Ethan was going another. Almost silently, the two of you decided to split up and take them. You followed Mark into O2, trailing him into the tree. No one was around, so you killed him before quickly venting away from there. Making sure no one was around when you resurfaced. Corpse must have killed Ethan because the Victory screen popped up for the two of you.

“Damn, I should have known this was a team effort between Corpse and the Angel. You’re far from an Angel when you’re an imposter.” Mark complained.

“That’s part of the thrill.” It really was. You loved being able to shock people that way.

“Good job, partner. You’re a great Imposter like me. We need to team up more often.” Corpse’s words made you feel all warm. It was insanely fun being Imposter with him. Your combined skills made things that much better.

“Okay, I think it’s time to call it a night. Thank you so much for joining us, Y/n.” Poki yawned to show it was getting late.

“Of course. I loved playing with all of you. It was much better than playing with randoms.”

“I get that. Randoms can be very annoying.” Sykkuno agreed. “It was so good to meet you, Y/n. I hope you join more games so I can be an Imposter with you!”

You loved how excited he sounded. “I guess we all want a chance to be Imposter with her.” Felix stated what everyone else was thinking.

“Hey, no one steals my Imposter buddy.” Corpse spoke up, which once again had you feeling some kind of good way.

“Corpse, you’re being such a simp.” Rae laughed, which made everyone else go nuts.

You all bid your goodbyes before you exited the game and the discord call. You found there was a huge smile on your face after that fun you had just had with Poki and her friends. They were all super welcoming of you, despite not knowing a thing about you.

Poki: Thank you for playing with us. I hope you had fun! You didn’t mind being on my stream?

Y/n: I had so much fun, everyone was so good to me. Also, not at all!

Poki: Good because my chat loved you! They couldn’t stop gushing about how much they loved you. It was so cute.

This was not something you had expected. Her stream had never met you, so for them to like you playing a game with the group, that was nice.

Y/n: Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting that. That’s so sweet!

Poki: You also seemed to get Corpse simping for you. Sykkuno is super jealous.

You laughed when you read that.

Y/n: Sykkuno doesn’t have to be jealous. It was a one-time thing, and he can have Corpse back in the next game.

Sure, you wanted it to be more than a one-time thing, but you weren’t going to let your hopes get too high. Poki had many streamer friends, who would get their streams way more viewers than you ever could.

Poki: I wouldn’t count on that. We’re definitely going to use you for more games. You’re one of us now, even if you don’t stream.

Her words warmed your heard. Poki had been one of the very few people you had made friends with when you moved to Cali with your sister and your friendship was only 10 months old. It was nice to have someone who wanted to include you in on the things she was doing.

Y/n: Are you sure? Because I would hate to be taking someone more interesting’s spot.

Poki: You shut that mouth. The group loved you and we’re all looking forward to playing with you again.

Y/n: Okay if that’s what they want.

Poki: They do, now get some sleep. I know you’ve been overworking yourself for your sister.

Y/n: You would be right. Thank you for the fun night, Poki. You get some sleep as well.

Poki: 😊

You liked her message before deciding it was indeed time for bed. Editing those videos did take energy out of you, especially since your sister would review and have you re-edit the things she didn’t like. Not fun at all.

****

The next month passed by with Poki inviting you to more games with her and her friends. Most of those games included Corpse, who’d taken a liking to you. The last few games, he’d been bugging you to tell him who you were and how you met Poki, but you were keeping that a secret. You really didn’t want him or the others knowing you were the older sister of selfish party girl Olivia Bella.

Your sister had found out you’d been playing the game with Poki and her friends and decided she was going to say some shit.

“How did you get Poki to let you play with her and the other streamers?” Olivia said with clear distaste towards you.

You shrugged. “She just asked me to step in for someone one day and now they enjoy playing with me.”

She laughed obnoxiously. “That such a joke. I needed that laugh, thank you.”

You clenched your fists, trying to contain your anger against your sister. She was really grating on your nerves these days.

“Damn, I would do anything to play with Corpse. His voice is so hot.” She muttered looking deranged.

“He’s much more than his voice you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s whatever I want him to be. God, I bet he’s so sexy behind that screen.”

“Please stop, he’s my friend and talk like that is uncomfortable.”

She cackled. “Corpse is not your friend, you loser. He just tolerates you like the rest of that group. I bet Poki only asked you to join out of pity.”

Her words slapped you in the face and threatened to strangle you. It was unbelievable that your younger sister was really acting like this to you.

“Why are you like this to me?” You questioned in all seriousness.

“Because you annoy me. Isn’t it obvious. I meant if I had the money, I would have moved here without you. Living with you is the worst. You know you’re like the most boring person in the world?”

The insults just kept on coming. She truly didn’t like you and it felt horrible. Family wasn’t supposed to be like this. “I get it, thank you.” You walked away before she could say anything else, she was horrible to you.

Her words made you sad. The only thing that could cheer you up was the fact that Poki had invited you to another game. It was something you needed after that conversation with your sister.

Poki: Hey girl, this kills me to do but Sean invited someone else to play tonight. Someone he said was eager to play with us. I’m so sorry.

This was simply perfect. The one time you craved interaction with the Among Us crew, they added someone else to the game. Of course it was always a possibility, but it didn’t stop from making you upset.

A couple of tears streamed down your face before you wiped them away. You wouldn’t let this get to you.

Y/n: No, please don’t worry. I understand it is always a possibility. Have a good stream!

Poki: I think you should know the person joining us is your sister. I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but they didn’t really believe me. I’m so sorry.

Your sister was the reason you have been replaced for tonight. Perfect. Of course it was her. She always took the things you liked, away from you.

Y/n: Please stop apologizing, I completely understand.

Poki: Should I tell them she’s your sister?

Y/n: No, please don’t let them know that.

Poki: Okay, please know we will miss you in tonights stream.

Doubt filled you. After reading those words. There was no way they would miss you in the game tonight. It was clear you didn’t bring in viewers for the streams, but your sister would be able to do that without any issues. Now your night was truly ruined. Thankfully, you could just lay in bed and sulk all you wanted.

The bedroom door burst open. “Hey, can you set up this game for me? I assume you know I’m playing Among Us with the crew tonight. Told you they didn’t care if you were there or not.” Did she ever stop this shit?

“Why should I help you?” You grumbled, glaring up at your blonde-haired sister. She looked like she was dressed for another party, not an off the cuff stream.

“Well, I pay you and if you want that to continue, you will help me set up the game and stream.” Her hanging your only source of income over your head was really shitty.

You growled but got out of bed, passing by her in a haste. You entered her office and quickly got to work setting up the stream and discord. Then you showed her how to load the game. She just nodded, not looking happy at all.

“Have fun.” You sounded bitter but at this point, you couldn’t hide it.

“Oh I’m going to have so much fun with them. It’s going to be so good, and maybe they will ask me to join them more often and they can stop faking their friendships with you.”

“Cool, good for you.” The audacity of this bitch. You left once you were sure it was set up correctly. She didn’t see, but you shot her the finger as you left. She was a bitch through and through.

You retreated to your room to sulk some more. This day was such a let down for you. Over the last month, you had really clicked with the Among Us group. Meeting more streamers as Poki had more games. They all seemed to like you, but your sister was probably right, they were just being nice because they could.

As you stared at your ceiling, you heard your sister talking and knew the stream had started. Groaning, you threw on some headphones and put on your playlist that was saved strictly for when you were sad. It helped to take your thoughts from the stressor at hand? And ease your mind.

****

Meanwhile, the stream was hell. Sean majorly regretted inviting Olivia onto it. To be fair, he was only being nice because the girl had been begging to join the game for a while now in his DM’s. But it was a huge regret with the way this woman was acting. She couldn’t even be Imposter without outing herself and the second Imposter.

“You guys know Y/n is my sister right?” She said offhandedly as they were waiting in the lobby for the next game.

“Wait what? Is that true?” Ludwig asked in disbelief. This woman was nothing like Y/n. She was a total ditz compared to Y/n.

“Of course it is. I have lived with her for twenty years now, I know a lot of dirt about her.” Hearing her say this angered Poki.

“Don’t go there, Olivia. Just play the game.” Poki didn’t want her to spill anything about her friend. It was messy that she would even want to.

Olivia sighed. “Awe but you would love this.”

“No, let’s just play the game.” Corpse was quick to cut her off.

“Come on Corpse, are you sure you don’t want to hear all the embarrassing things I know about her?” Everyone was quickly realizing just how messed up in the brain Olivia was.

“You do realize most of us are streaming this live?” Rae stated, sounding just as frustrated as Corpse felt.

“Please, let’s start the game.” He all but growled, wanting to shut this woman up. The game started and he pulled out his phone. He was going to finally get Poki to tell him Y/n’s instagram.

Corpse: I know you told me you couldn’t tell me what Y/n’s instagram is but please, can I get it now? Her sister is a fucking bitch.

He has so much more he wanted to say about Olivia and entitled attitude but making sure Y/n was okay was his number one priority.

Poki: She’s going to hate me if I do it.

Corpse: Please, this is important to me.

Poki: You owe me. Here’s her insta.

She sent him a link that led to a private instagram under the name Y/nY/l/n96. He requested to follow her.

Corpse: Thank you, let me know when to pay up.

Poki: Will do, now get into the game or Olivia is going to kill you. She’s imposter.

He got back into the game, hoping Y/n would accept his request.

****

After an hour of ‘sad girl hours’. You decided to do something that could help you not to focus on Olivia streaming in the other room.

Clicking instagram, you saw a notification. corpse_husband has requested to follow you. This was interesting. Either he’s smart enough to figure out who you are or Poki told him.

You accepted his follow and followed him back. He only had seven pictures, and of course there weren’t face pics. You admired him for keeping himself faceless to his fans. Now you hoped he wouldn’t bend to their pressure and reveal his face. Being faceless was good for him and his anxiety. The latest pics were his hand reveals he did for the fans, they made you giggle.

Corpse was good at keeping himself secret and you liked that. You did what you could to stay secret as well. Your Instagram profile picture was not even you, so no one would be able to point you out even if they knew your face. Also, you have hidden the account from Olivia, so she couldn’t send her fans to torment you.

As you scrolled Instagram, you received a DM. It was from the one and only Corpse Husband.

Corpse: This stream is hell without you tonight. Why did Sean have to invite her?

It made you feel a little better to see that Corpse was missing you in the stream tonight.

Y/n: That’s a question you will have to ask Sean. I was looking forward to playing Among Us with the group as well, but hey, it looks like they found someone who will bring in the views.

Corpse: Nope. She’s chasing away everyone’s viewers. Your sister is the worst. I see why you didn’t want us to know the two of you were related.

Your blood ran cold. How did he know that?

Y/n: How did you know she was my sister?

Corpse: She won’t shut up about it. No one can get her to stop. I’m sorry if you didn’t want us to know about this.

Of course, you should have known that Olivia was going to tell everyone that. She was also probably opening her mouth about so much other stuff.

Y/n: Well fuck. This sucks.

Corpse: Hey, don’t worry about it. No one is judging you for this, but we are wondering how you manage to handle her.

A soft giggle left your mouth.

Y/n: It’s not easy. I mean sure I’m the older sister, but she acts like the queen around here.

Corpse: Damn. Here we go again. Your sister is trying to start some drama.

Hearing this, you realized you had to do something about this. There was no way you could let her sit there and continue to mouth off about you or anyone else in her life.

Y/n: Brace yourself, I’m about to ruin her stream.

Corpse: Good luck!

It was time to put her in her place, you got up and headed to the utility closet by the front door of the apartment. The fuse box was located there. You opened it and found the switch for her office and clicked it off. It was half a second before a loud scream was heard.

In less than thirty seconds she was running out of the office with a livid look upon her face. “What the fuck have you done?” She screamed while stomping up to you.

“I heard you were talking shit about me and decided to end it.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“I can say whatever I want. The group was enjoying it.” She tried to act smug.

You laughed in her face. “Do you ever not lie?”

“Do you ever stop being a bitter bitch?” The anger was clear, but you didn’t care.

“Oh fuck off. You were annoying them with your ridiculous bullshit. I completely saved your ass from making a fool of yourself.”

“I fucking hate you!” She stepped up to you. “I’m kicking you out. Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment.” The look on her face, showed she was serious about this.

“Fine.” Was all you said before you turned around and went back to your room, well your former room now. Pulling some bags out, you stuffed some clothes and important items into them. Once filled, you pulled on shoes and made sure you had what you needed until you could come get the rest of your stuff. Currently, you didn’t know how to feel about any of this, but you did need to get away from her.

PART TWO >>

[anlian-aishang]

You had caught yourself a spy - and you could not have been more thrilled.

reference image [reblog below] music

Word count: 5000 Tags: levi x reader, smut, spy trope (capture, weaponry, violence, etc.), enemy fucking, dom/sub dynamics, modern au, spy!levi x fem!reader

The little secrets had gone missing, and at first, that was what you wanted. Red herrings, messages with uncrackable codes, letters that - when deciphered - only said where the base’s light switches were, how to change the camp’s radio stations, and - just cause of the quirky sergeant you were - Nice try, Paradis. They were all merely ways to waste their time.

You came to regret it, though, when you realized: you had no ordinary spy on your hands.

Exchanges over the transceivers had been intercepted. How did you know? It was not by any hushed breathing coming through nor any suspicious missing items, but through your minions who were walking around with walkie-talkies that were not the ones you had assigned to them. You nearly threw a fit - how could you be so stupid?! But when you laid them all out on the meeting room table, you huffed, you could not have blamed them. The little personal marks - the etchings, the stickers, even the serial numbers atop the battery compartments - had all been identically switched and transferred to different devices. After hours of everyone’s thoughtful examination, you still struggled to piece it all together.

Your nights grew restless, which meant that the entire camp did as well. For as long as their leader was invested in something, it meant that everyone else’s efforts were invested as well. It was a week of you turning the base upside-down. Surely, there has to be something. Surely, there has to be something. Surely, there has to be something.

You almost gave up, almost believing it was just one lone incident, but finally, you gained another clue. It was 3 AM, alone in the surveillance room, playing tape after tape of room cam footage, that you noticed another oddity. It was not any unknown figure nor any act of violence caught on camera, but the camera itself.

Nicolo always made ham sandwiches on Wednesdays - so why was Colt eating a salad on the date marked Wednesday 06-09-2021? You tore off your headset and ran to the men’s barracks, screaming his name.

Colt! What did you have for dinner last Wednesday!?

What?!

Hurry!!

Ham sandwich as always, ma’am!

Fucking shit...!

You really had been compromised - for the first time in your career and it was in a way you never saw coming. When did they get in there?! How did they get in there?! What have they stolen already?!

Who could it be?

It was many more sleepless nights of pulling your hair out, biting your nails, trying your hardest to wrap your head around all of it. Through endless questioning and interrogations, you deduced it was not an inside job. Everyone on your team had been there for nearly a decade. Why would they start sabotaging now? Even as you scheduled interviews with your personnel, you shook your head, knowing that you kept them in the dark and on the brink of unlivabley busy - there was no way it could be any of them.

Surely, it had to be someone from Paradis. That was no question, but you had caught so many of them before and none of them had ever been able to do you an ounce of harm, certainly nothing like this. Unless they had suddenly found someone with a knack for this, someone who had been thieving their whole life, someone who had crime in their blood,...

Turns out, that was exactly who they had found.

// // //

Everything had been easy thus far - too easy. You had some clever tactics, he would admit it, but it was nothing for him.

For one, you must have had the cameras installed by some private company, one that was more familiar with household and neighborhood security rather than national and militant espionage. Levi clicked his tongue, eyes set and fingers occupied on fitzing with your gadgets. Wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. He was sure some greedy businessman had lied about their expertise, taking advantage of a female captain who he thought knew no better. A shame, really.

It was too bad that you were on opposing sides. He saw a lot of potential in you and it was clear that your nation was not making the most of it. Marley had placed you, the daughter of a famed war captain, here - as a nod to your father’s achievements, as a thanks to his service. Even though you were the manager of the base, all of your underlings were men - carefully chosen and vetted by the higher-ups. They thought that the military was not a woman’s place. And surely, if your father had a son, they would have given this job to him, not you.

Intercepting your subordinates’ gossip had led him to that conclusion.

On Paradis, though, you would have had much more prestige. He could see you in Commander Erwin’s shoes, in Dr. Hange’s lab, but where he thought you most fitting was with him in reconnaissance - perhaps even at his side.

You had thought over every inch of the premises, had overlooked a multiacre property, and had held those duties for years. That was one thing you lacked on him, though, the time spent in this sector. If you spent a while with him, he could and would show you the ropes. And surely, all your experience managing a surveillance base could teach him something too. As a pair, you would be unstoppable.

Levi sighed to himself. If not for this war,... there were many ideas that could follow, but the one in his mind now: you two could make a good match.

// // //

Being an insomniac did not hurt in this profession. Darkness was the best cover and in it was when he did his worst. Early morning or late night, whatever 4 AM was, he was wide-awake and breaking into your room - the queen bee’s lair.

Levi could not help but snicker to himself. On the knob to your bedroom door, a padlock of comedic size. Ironically, it was what told him that tonight was the night to come in. He had planned to do a lot more before the grand finale: finding you and interrogating you, but with such a glaring display of your fear, he knew it just the right time. Surely, if you were so scared that you would admit and display such a defense, it meant that there was nothing to worry about on the other side of that door.

It was difficult to pick, more so than most of the other ones around here. If he had not yet figured out that this was your quarters, this would have been the tell. He shook his head - too safe for your own good. The metal it was, though, caused his pick to make clanging sounds as he pushed, pulled, bent, and budged. Levi bit his lip, holding back curses, keeping his breaths quiet within.

Almost there.

That telltale clachink! was louder than he would have liked, but his standards were high - a pin-drop considered too much for him. At that second, he simultaneously turned against the wall, knelt down, and held out an open palm - the lock falling square into it, minimizing the sounds into one rather than a series of them.

Gloved hand curled over the round knob, its touch cold through the fabric. A deep inhale behind his black mask, he held his breath in the gradual turn. Silent was his every move.

As soon as he had even a sliver, steel eyes were instantaneous in drinking up all they could. Moonlight outlined your furniture and belongings. Boots taken off at the doormat, uniform crumpled on the floor, dresser drawers left ajar. All signs pointed: you were here and he knew it.

Past the foreground, just in front of the window, your canopy bed. A figure bundled underneath its sheets and comforter. Jackpot. Levi always loved when they were asleep. Waking up to the sight of him at their bedside, a knife at their middle, all inhibitions and filters would instantly disappear. Addresses, social security numbers, launch codes admitted as openly as a weather forecast.

Eyes focused in. That body was still - sound asleep. No need to crawl.

His first act of carelessness.

His last.

// // //

Levi’s tiptoe to your bed was halted halfway en route.

From behind the open door, you reached him in two large strides. Good on you: a third one would not have gotten by him. Elbow hooked around his throat, that hand clutching your shoulder - your favorite kind of chokehold. Your other hand held the dagger, its point at his chest, a tear through his bodysuit.

“Hey there, big boy,” crook pressed against his Adam’s apple, “or should I say - little boy.”

The pressure at his neck brought the slightest bit of breathlessness to his voice, “Fuck you.”

“Pretty big words for such a runt.” Chuckles fell on his ear before you bit his cloth, tugged up, and ripped the garment off his head.

But he was not a runt, at least, not anymore. You tightened your hold around him, a silent don’t do anything stupid, and let yourself have a look at your failed assassin. Most would not have recognized his true age, but you had worked with many men in your time. He could not have been younger than 30.

But could he have been any more attractive?

Shameless was your stare into his eyes - black bangs interceding them at points. Pale skin highlighted from the starry sky. Thin lips a straight line - seemingly unbothered by your little maneuver, in your view, they were begging to be explored.

He tilted his gaze, a pitiful look, “Why don’t we be professionals here, and fight with knives rather than words?”

“Mmm…” you faked a pensiveness, “... I’m not so sure.”

“Yeah?” He mocked, “Scared?”

Grip on your knife loosened just a tinge, “Let’s just say, I brought a gun to a knife fight.”

"Tch..." Paradis did not have those and neither did he. All his abilities up till now did not matter. The only skill that could help him here was his intuition: instantly recognizing that a battle of weaponry with you was one that he would not win.

Levi rolled his eyes. “So, what are you going to do with me?”

So unbothered? It was as if he could care less. Not even a drop of panic or intimidation in his voice. How could that be? A silent scowl, you stopped your thoughts from wandering. Compose yourself.

If carelessness was his game, count me in. A singsong voice, “I don’t know. I might just kill you?”

But that did not work either. “You won’t.”

“Yeah?” You pressed that knife in closer, its metal now chilling his skin. “You gonna stop me?”

“You don’t want to kill me and you’re not going to.” Levi turned towards you, slowly - it’s not a threat yet confidently - I know what I’m doing. Grey gaze captivated, “You would have done it already, sweetheart.”

Fuck. He’s good.

You felt your heart start to race, and that was the last thing you wanted him to know. You needed to let go of him now or else he would feel it through his back. By the time you realized it, it was already too late - your increase in pulse instantly noted. A smile you could not see.

Playing it off as a reward rather than defense, “Listen. You’ve been a good boy - cooperating with me - and I appreciate that.” You edged your blade off just enough to keep contact, but also to imply you were letting up. Drawing oscillations on his spandex, “I’ll have you know that I am quite merciful,” you laughed, “for this industry at least.”

A falsified interest. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah…” You nodded against his neck, and to your delight, you felt the tiniest of shivers trail down his spine. You pretended not to notice them, but indeed, made sure to remember it like the back of your hand. A weak point. “Of course, there needs to be some punishment for what you’ve done… but otherwise, I’m keen to forgive and forget.”

Levi raised a single brow. Worry had not set in yet, but it was nearing that point.

Negotiation. “Hah. If I were you, I would think twice about handing me over to your monkeys.”

He did have a point; no, he was completely right. Their only mission for months had been to find him, and in the end, it was you who caught the intruder.

Belittlement. “I never thought you stupid or incapable, but if you think I’m better off in their hands than yours, that would make me think twice.”

He was good.

Too good.

Too good for his own good.

This thief was winning you over, stealing your heart, and you had a feeling that was what he wanted. Indeed, all missions he had taken on, he had succeeded in. Here you were, handing him his first loss, and he was not going to ruin his perfect track record lying down - not without making up for it.

That was the thing, though. In the few minutes you had spent together, in the few sentences you had exchanged, in the few looks you had met, how was he… why was he… so intriguing? Your job was to look over hundreds of men - how had this one gotten straight to your heart straight away?

Who exactly is the captive one, here?

Again, you forced yourself to assert your dominance. Get a fucking grip. He was the one in your hands, after all.

Then suddenly, a tenderness so unexpected, it was only the second time in your engagement that you surprised him - the first of which was when you appeared behind him, put a knife to his sternum, and your arms around his throat. You felt his sharp inhale against you, as you pinched his chin in your fingers, turned his attention to you, and whispered in his mouth.

“Oh, whatever made you think I would let you go so easily?”

// // //

Brows arched at your words, eyes widened in the kiss that followed.

Without wasting any time, you pushed your way past his lips and pinched his tongue with your teeth. Sex, but not without some carefulness. Love, but not without some constraints. You felt his body clench in your hold. Peeking open your eyes, you saw a look of surprise and perplexion on your little intruder. You smiled into the kiss, silently beckoning him to join you in this play.

She’s crazy.

But what if she isn’t?

Those two thoughts alone were what kept his decision delayed. Either you were trying to seduce then subdue him or his tactful charm had worked its magic. Whatever it was, you were throwing yourself at him like he was the last man on earth - as if he was your lifelong husband with whom you had no boundaries, or as if he was your greatest adversary whose walls had to be broken down. Both of whom, you would fuck without mercy.

That eye contact was maintained as you circled his tongue with yours, smacked your lips with his, and nibbled his mouth with your teeth. Fingers dared to reach into that undercut, scooping his head in your hand, and kept him pressed firmly against you. Raven locks were so smooth, you thought that you would not mind resting your hand there forever, or at least, staying a while.

Nails scraped his scalp, drawing a hiss you could taste. After much consideration, he fluttered his eyes shut. He knew he had his life - so do your worst, bitch.

That you did. Left hand kept its place at the back of his head. Your right hand started its journey: beginning at his nape, then cupping his shoulder, reaching over his traps, nails leaving scratches in his back. As you left your marks, he kissed you back the best way he knew how. His tongue uttered no words, but said I’m interested, not intimidating.

That exploratory hand continued though, wrapping around his ribcage, down his torso, to the side of his hip. Through his tight, stretchy spandex, fingertips had ease making out the muscles that lay underneath. An array at his abdomen, a V just below, hipbones that jutted outward. Your hands were your eyes: x-ray vision past his bodysuit. Your contact pursued its descent dangerously low. Maintaining the kiss, Levi gasped with anticipation, wondering if you would go there, hoping you would go there.

It was only a split-second he had to react: your touch lightening to a graze before it snapped away. If not so preoccupied, he would have caught it, but alas - you had him a bit distracted. Reaching into your back pocket, you whipped out handcuffs and clasped them around his wrists.

Shit.

Cold metal was chilling, but not nearly as much as the dominance you had over him now. You finally departed the kiss with one harsh bite, the metallic taste of his blood dwindling just below your teeth. Hand in his hair forced his ear to your lips. “You know, you overestimated me…”

You curled a grip in his locks, tangling and yanking. He had endured plenty of pain in his time, but this was something different. Gritting his teeth, “Yeah?”

How he mistook that bunch of pillows for your sleeping body - “How could I have slept so soundly when there was a rat infestation in my home?”

Levi snickered, “You seem to be enjoying it, though.” Despite the cuffs, hands made their way forward, sneaking underneath the hem of your nightgown. Index and middle finger met for a dive past your panties. Just as he thought, a proud smile, “You’re soaking wet, baby.”

Digits began their dance: slow pumps turned to fast ones, working their magic from shallow to deep end. Warm ridges hugged, a slick fluid coated, your body speaking for you: you wanted his stay, his continuance. Levi sighed, satisfied, imagining how that adorable wet pussy would feel elsewhere. He hated to admit it, but he also could not help it: the walls he wanted past were not the concrete barriers of the fortress, but yours. The mission of counterintelligence had left the forefront of his mind, replaced by one of knowing just how good Marley’s puppet felt.

His determination unmatched, an innate increase in his intensity. A moan you wanted to keep in, a twitch you wanted to subdue, you just could not help yourself as he pumped you faster and faster. Taking hold in his shoulder blades, “A’Ah! Ah, fuck!”

If something did not change soon, he was going to win this battle of control.

No. No. No.

This is all wrong.

Fuck this!

Suddenly, you snapped at him. How dare he try to get out from under you? Tired you were of this teetering back and forth - a battle of nations, with him, within yourself - of who was winning. Just who is in charge, here?

Rebounding off your near-orgasm, your voice turned a gradient from weakness to strength. “On your knees! Do you hear me?” Fist in his hair pushed him down down down. “On your knees, now!”

Shocked eyes met yours of unbreakable command. Just when he thought he had you nearing the edge of submission, you had pulled the 180: now holding him by his collar and dangling him over the cliff. What other option did he have? It was not that you were physically pushing him - that, he could easily have fought against - it was that he had no desire to disobey. That was a much harder fight, one he was unfit for. If you were putting him where he thought you were, it was a place he was desperate to be.

There was no more resilience. Levi threw his hands up, literally and figuratively. An expression of pure desire, submission, lust, was almost more than you could take. You had plenty of experience with reading faces, but even you could not tell, is this fabricated or real? It was his whine, though, that won you over. “Yes, master.”

“Hmph,” you laughed, contented, “that’s right.” You nearly stuttered as you ordered, “Get down, now.”

It was his compliance as well as your force that moved him to the floor. His willingness demonstrated by the point of his toes on the hardwood followed by the bang of his knees. All this time, that left hand in his hair had done well. You let it stay - an anchor of guidance for this next part. Meanwhile, your right hand caressed his neck, remembering his vulnerable shivers from before. He earned some fun.

A reward, too. “Enjoy what you’re about to see,” you hummed. Fingers hooked below your silk dress and pulled it up, over, off your body. “Not just anyone gets this view.”

For as much as you had undermined him, mocked him, reduced him from a country’s greatest scout to one woman’s mere servant, the knowledge that he was one of the few - perhaps the only one - to have the privilege of seeing you naked, it gave him more confidence than you told yourself you would allow. In this outfit of his, the effect of that surge was visible.

Pupils dilated further. The height he was - it was no indication of the length you saw below. Lips parted in thirst. If you knew that this was what he was packing, you may not have opted for this strategy.

Your reaction, it did not matter that he was brought to his knees, your obvious infatuation had him feeling sky-high. Levi arched his brows, a knowing smirk. “You like what you see?”

Forced frown was undercut by the quiver in your lip, “Should be asking you that.”

Levi inched himself forward: bangs tickled your tummy, nose pressed into your hips, teeth bit the seam of your panties and ripped down. Then, finally, you were completely exposed to him. Glistening sex, perked nipples, heaving chest, and all. His cheek met your inner thigh, which he nuzzled like a pillow. Eyes stayed vehemently on you, conveying his seriousness as well as his enchantment, “I do, princess.”

Brows narrowed. Blood ran red. You hated that he called you that - the lone commander of this secret base. You hated how the pet name made your heart flutter. You hated that you liked it. Bastard… shut up!

Reprimand: you pulled his hair again. “I’m no princess.”

Levi shrugged his shoulders, if you insist. A single swipe of his tongue between your folds was his keycard to you, preceding the words that reached right to your core.

“Just for tonight,” he sighed, “I’m gonna make you feel like one.”

// // //

Whether he was to make you feel like a princess - or it was you who made him to make you feel like one, it was the same question: just who was in control of your pleasure right now?

Canines grazed your curves with pain, his tongue painted your skin with pleasure. Tender, but unrelenting. Hungry, not sloppy. Cold-blooded and heated passion as he ate you out.

Knees buckled at the sensation he provided, but he had no problem with that - with having you sitting on his face. His shoulders became your cushion, his ears your armrests. Even as you dipped yourself further and further onto him, he showed no signs of struggle. Smart, sinister, and strong, too. You felt your yearning heighten. Where has he been all my life? It was not that he was a god you praised, but the opposite: a puppet, your pet, a plaything completely under your control.

Pathetic. That was how he looked: absolutely pathetic. Cheeks reddening like fire, eyes barely managing a squint, bangs drenched with sweat and stuck to his face. With merely the presence of weaponry, not even the use of it, you had brought him to nothingness.

Dynamics, no filter, you thought aloud. “You know, I was scared of you then... but not anymore -” you giggled, “not when you’re like this.”

A man on his knees, silver handcuffs around his wrists, his face smothered by your cunt - there was no position more humiliating. Levi’s mouth stayed between your legs, no words but an exhale - one you assumed for your benefit was actually a laugh. Funny - you started off afraid of him and ended up this fearless. It was the opposite for him: thinking you were so stupid, so weak - then discovering the strongest and most intelligent woman he had ever met.

Oh, how he wanted you - for more than just tonight.

Levi let his mouth run its route, an instinctual chase for the milestone signs of your pleasure, and let his mind wander.

He had spent his life in a perpetual search, but tonight, he realized: his heart was looking for something else, something of his own, looking for something that it did not know - that was, until he found you. Actually, until you found him.

Why had you decided not to kill him? What made you keep that knife at his chest rather than plunging it into him? How had all your previous infiltrators come back with scars or not come back at all? Here he was unscathed, one of the lucky ones, who would ever get to serve you - one of the only ones to do so like this.

Given this chance, he had to make the most of it - if he wanted a chance at forever with you, it meant it had to start tonight.

Make her scream.

Make her cum.

Make her fall in love.

Levi grunted, inadvertently making you arch your back into him and cry out. You were on Cloud 9, but he was in the throes of frustration. There was no way it would work and he knew it. No matter how hard he tried for you, no matter how many orgasms he gave you, no matter how in love he was with you, there was no chance in hell that you two would make it.

Lovers tonight. Enemies forever.

His resentment towards the world, your states, the artificial barrier of higher-ups and diplomats that kept you apart was taken out on you and only you. Levi felt himself losing control, furious slashes, primal bites, smoldering growls unleashed on your sex. A zap of his being from head to toe, an energy uncontainable.

The change in pace was sudden - you fumbled for composure, “Fuck!! Fuck!”

But there was no chance, not with Levi Ackerman between your legs.

“Cum -” for me, “- come on, princess.”

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet!

You wanted this to last, but your rising floodgates, the thrusts of your hips, the longing for this - for him - refused to be held back any longer. Fists found stability in his tangles, nails dug into his neck, shaking in anticipation of the climax that neared.

They were not enough.

You were no match.

A warm honey that coursed through your veins, an ice-cold water on a humid summer day, the steam of a bubble bath, a lick of your favorite ice cream. That was what he was to you, that was what he provided you - what no other man on this world could be or could give. Certainly, not anyone on this base.

No. No. No.

Stop that.

Enjoy this while it lasts.

You let yourself have that: an easy comedown from your hard-earned bliss, a slow tapering from the reward you had been chasing for longer than just tonight, but for all the months that he had been fucking with you. That pleasure you felt, though, had been worth it all - a trade you would take again and again.

Right now, actually.

Fingers threaded through his tresses. You bent his neck back, forced his gaze up to meet yours, and demanded, “Another.”

// // //

When you woke up, that little rat had left without a trace. No note, no clothing, not even a single strand of hair. What a shame… you had really enjoyed your time together, and with the lingering scent of his sweat still on your skin - you thought he had, too.

A nonsensical emptiness. What was there to do now? The months of mystery had been solved. The man you had sought after had disappeared the second you found him. The night you spent with him was the only one you ever would.

A maniacal laugh brewed from deep within and resonated throughout the room louder and louder - even echoing down your bedroom’s air vent, through the base, and in the ears of all those stationed. Your soldiers cringed. Their leader always so composed - what had taken over her?

You didn’t even find out his name.

You let him get away.

Miles away, though, at a motel down the road - a mysterious young man had just presented $5000 in cash, silently purchasing an indefinite stay. A sizeable briefcase, a trench coat, soleless shoes, the teenage desk clerk was either too stupid or too scared to raise any concerns and, instead, swiftly handed over the keys.

The mission had been compromised, not completed, and there was no way he would return back empty-handed. Surely, he would lose the title he had worked all these years to attain. Worse off, he would be berated by the nation, hated by its citizens, and have to retreat to the underground, once again abandoning the name he had fought for the right to say aloud. He would not rather be dead than have that fate, but surely, it was worth giving this operation another shot.

That was what he told himself, anyway.

Of course, he wanted to see his assignment through. But he knew deep inside: that duty was secondary to his heart’s wandering thoughts.

What would happen if he was caught again?

// masterlist //

[cookinguptales]

(I just asked if you watched the episode 3 promo, because I don’t want to spoil you.)Do you think the presence of the documentary crew has a significant influence on the characters, especially on Guillermo? More and more I get the feeling that Guillermo would sometimes behave differently or say different things if the cameras wouldn't be around. (1/3)

For example if one of the vampires says something totally outlandish, Guillermo gives the camera a certain look, which says as much as: “Can you believe they say something that silly? Of course they’re wrong. No, I would never agree/ do such a thing.”

From time to time it feels like Guillermo wants to convince the crew?/ the viewers?/ himself? that he is completely “normal”. So no, of course he would never look at the new, enhanced dick of his master /roommate /friend /Nandor ? Of course not, never. Such a crazy idea… (3/3)

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

No, I'm happy you asked! Sorry if I came off as short, I was genuinely asking if you had any questions for me. I just woke up, lmao. So sorry if I sounded terse, I was just groggy and trying to parse if there was something in particular I was supposed to be saying.

As for your actual question... I think he definitely plays up his responses some? I think that, for all that he was very shy about expressing himself in the first season or so, Guillermo is actually kind of a histrionic person lmao. He really likes the attention, once he allows himself to have it, and he can be very. um. Theatrical.

I also think he's very conscious of his audience, when he has one, and is constantly tailoring his reactions to that. I mean that as in the physical audience, us, but also that he's very good at code-switching, for lack of a better word. Guillermo is actually fairly good at reading a room and acting accordingly. He seems to know, for the most part, when he needs to be quiet and watchful, when he should be deferential, when he needs to kick ass, who he can be a little sassy with... The way he behaves with his own vampires vs. other vampires vs. his family vs. the neighbors vs. the cameras, etc. changes so rapidly.

I'm not sure he's even conscious that he's doing it; in fact, when he tries to manipulate audiences, he's kind of shitty at it. But when he's doing it unconsciously, he's actually rather good. When he does overstep, it's almost always because he wants to be part of things so badly that he allows himself to try it, even though he knows he'll probably get slapped down.

(This... can actually be a pretty telltale symptom of abuse, actually. Tailoring your personality to what you think is "safe" around different groups and consistently trying to put on the "right" version of yourself so people will accept and like you. It comes from constantly having to manipulate situations with abusers in order to extricate yourself safely. Though whether we're talking about abuse at the hands of the vampires or due to his poor childhood is up for debate. We know that at the very least he was physically bullied in school...

When it comes to response to danger, there's fight, flight, freeze, or fawn, and boy have we seen Guillermo do all four -- but he does seem to have a certain learned fondness for fawn.

This ability to change your personality for safety can also be a symptom of being closeted throughout your formative years, but I guess we don't have all the details about that.)

Anyway, I think Guillermo realizes what the camera crew wants him to be and he plays into that. He seems to be the only character here who knows what The Office is lmao. He's also been miffed before at what he perceives them as wanting from him (when he was mad about being interviewed with Doll Nadja) so I think he's highly conscious of how he's being treated and depicted in this "documentary program". I think he often tries to position himself as the straight man (so to speak) even though he is just as patently insane as the rest of them.

All that said, I do think that Guillermo's always had a sort of fundamental discomfort with Nandor's sexuality that I don't think he needs to play up that much. (See: whirling around to hide when he walked in on him and Gail, cringing when trying to describe his sex acts in The Orgy, etc.) I think if anything, he was covering up his discomfort with a joke towards the camera, though it's hard to know for sure because the clip was so brief. Like we know he's seen Nandor's erect dick before, but that doesn't mean he's comfortable with purposefully looking at it, even if Nandor invited him to. (Maybe especially because Nandor invited him to.)

Plus, I mean, we know that Guillermo is extremely loyal and he does have a boyfriend now. We have no way of knowing if that loyalty is currently misplaced (as it... so often is, with Guillermo) but I mean. He probably has a lot of reasons for not wanting to look at his master's dick on camera, honestly. He'll probably end up doing it anyway (I don't know that he'll have a choice in the matter) but I can see him wanting to put up at least a token resistance. lmao

That said, we do know that he definitely does have a prurient interest in Nandor's dick despite his attempts to hide it so like. It'll be fun to see how that goes.

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

i ain’t done anything for @tolkienocweek yet, mostly because my covid-induced neet-dom has decoupled me from any association with sidereal time and thus there’s no way i could guarantee getting something out on its specific day. still, i do have one character that could potentially qualify for day 3 (background characters) or day 4 (self-inserts), sorta. i’d like to introduce you all to the proprietor of the fëanorian ethics department, the as-yet-nameless fed elf

fed elf is a... moderately idealised self-insert of mine, though she’s taking on a life of her own

she’s also a noldo. of course she is

her Noldorin Craft™ is, as i’ve said before, arguing. she has very strong opinions about almost everything and will debate them at length

she’s moderately infamous for it in tirion

she’s especially fond of philosophy, in the ancient-greek asking-a-million-rhetorical questions style. what should we do? why do we do the things we do? why do the valar get to tell us what to do?

... you can probably tell which side of the fëanor/fingolfin debate she landed on, if it wasn’t already obvious

she’s not particularly close to any of the future capital-H House, but she is in their rough orbit. one of the miscellaneous guild trolls that form the rank-and-file of their initial expeditionary force

idk if she’s ~devoted to the cause enough to go to formenos, but when the trees get eaten and fëanor rolls up into tirion with the solution to all their spider problems, she is all for it

she’s a passing acquaintance of maedhros from those times when he’d show up in her guild hall for debate night, so she probably ends up with his crew, at least initially

... there’s a very good chance her first attempts at crafting a new noldorin ethical system happen on that horrible night aboard the blood-stained swanships of alqualondë

in any case, she gets good enough at murder to not die before the brothers hellspawn are divvying up east beleriand, and the formerly reasonably undelineated fëanorian host is splitting up into its various garrisons

most people stay with whoever they’re already riding with, but there are exceptions. she is one of them, as soon as she hears about caranthir’s Plans she immediately switches allegiance to the future lord of thargelion

he’s deliberately trying to set up on the trade routes! they’re gonna make contact with the dwarves! there are apparently trails leading over the blue mountains, links to communities of elves unlike she’s ever seen!

so many new people to argue with!!!!!!

so she heads up to lake helevorn, and helps with setting up the city. she winds up filling some middling role in east beleriand’s military bureaucracy, when she’s not on orc-killing duty

but her true passion is *~ethics~*

there is actually a practical component to this. due to Certain Events the noldor (especially the fëanorians) aren’t as-well suited to their pre-darkening moral codes as they might have once been

they need a new one, with contingencies for, like, murder, and all the other new situations they’ll encounter in this new world! the questions of what’s right and wrong have been blown right open, and fed elf is possibly the happiest she’s been in her life. they’re building everything else from first principles, why not this?

and the fëanorian host in aggregate does actually care about morality, even though outsiders never believe that. it’s what separates them from the orcs (in their minds at least); they’re doing everything for a Cause, not for destruction’s sake alone. say what you want about the fëanorians, their problem was never a lack of ideals

she gets people coming in sometimes, wanting to know what the right thing to do in a situation is. either that, or they think she’s wrong about something and want to explain why in depth, which is almost as fun

soon enough, there’s a small shop just off the main streets of lake helevorn called the fëanorian ethics department

(she’s the only one with a shop, but she’s not the only member of the host with Opinions. the guy on the other side of the market district whose system is fairly similar in the broad strokes but completely different in the details is her personal archnemesis)

for most of the first age, fed elf has it pretty good. by her standards, at least, and she’ll happily exposit at length as to why they’re the only ones that matter

the work on the system of ethics never quite stops, but it does slow down. she’s less prescriptivist than most noldor, so she does a lot of observation and interviewing and stuff, and also new things keep happening for her to cover, but she does manage to nail down the basics!

she does consultation, in varying levels of official capacity, but she’ll also just. answer anyone who comes in with a question. or asks one within earshot

it’s mostly noldorin fëanorians she has debates with, the sindar and atani generally prefer to ask her whatever they want to know with minimum fuss, but whenever she gets a real fight going they all join the crowd. watching fed elf argue with people is one of lake helevorn’s municipal spectator sports

she also has conversations with travellers! these usually start when some newcomer is staring in befuddlement at the sign outside her shop and she takes the opportunity to pounce

she asks them detailed questions about their own ethical systems, which she files away for potential future incorporation/argument ammunition. they fairly frequently ask questions of their own, most often variations on ‘you guys seriously have morals?’

sometimes this even turns into a proper ethical debate! these aren’t usually as well-argued or intense as the ones she has with other fëanorians, particularly if she’s not talking to a noldo, but when she meets someone who’s a proper match for her it is the highlight of her year

running the shop does generate a fair bit of paperwork she tends to be too emotionally invested in to deal with properly, so she hires help now and then. one recurring underling is a clumsy perpetually-ill atan who is nevertheless really good with the filing and holds fierce opinions of their own, even if they hide under the table whenever anyone so much as raises their voice

(that atan is me. much less idealised self insert)

like every other elf in the host, fed elf is still under arms. she has a unit, she’s part of the orc patrol rotas, when caranthir needs to do a battle she pulls her broadsword out from under her desk and reports for the muster. east beleriand is just a pretty violent place in general, and her most impassioned arguments frequently shade into all-out duels. east beleriand, where even especially the philosophers will knife you

but just like fëanor promised on tirion upon túna so long ago, she’s built a place where she can be the best version of herself, and she couldn’t be happier (marketplace douche notwithstanding)

like so much of the host, she has big plans for when they topple angband and reclaim the silmarils. it’s just, well

i am not entirely sure what fed elf’s fate is after the fall of thargelion. most likely she died at some point, because so do most of her peers and also because she has an aversion to cutting her losses that’s definitely gonna backfire sooner or later

it’s either that, or she abandons everything she ever worked out to flee over the blue mountains, or she sticks with the host long enough to see all their ideals and dreams burn to ash. out of all of them death is probably her kindest fate

if she does die - she’s definitely a kinslayer at least one time over, she is staying in the halls for a While. the local maiar completely stonewall her every time she tries to argue her way out, she has plenty of time to sit around and think

because yeah, the host’s century-long self-immolation has given her a lot to think about. she was wrong, it turns out, in several important ways, and from the outside she can see how much the ethical system she put her heart and soul into was bent towards destruction

if she ever gets out, it’ll be after a lot of self-reflection, a massive dose of humility, and her accepting her own small-but-not-insignificant role in the nightmare they created

the fëanorians as get let out of the halls of mandos are without fail less violent, more self-aware, and just generally more conscious of their actions than they were when they went in. fed elf is no exception to this

she’s also no exception to the rule that their time in elf afterlife therapy generally fails to lower their volume at all. soon after her rebirth, after some time spent rethinking her personal moral code, fed elf puts out a thesis as to why elwing’s refusal to give up the silmaril was perfectly justifiable under fëanorian ethical mores

this pisses off a measurable proportion of aman’s sapient population. soon the furious letters of rebuke are pouring in nightly

exactly. as. planned

[stuckylibrary]

Group Ask 184

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Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

arosetintedem said:

I NEED HELP! I'm looking for a fic and you guys are the best at finding them. So it is a fic where bucky is like put in stark tower i think post -tws. at one point he is in the shower and JARVIS refuses to make the temp too high. He also comunicates that hydra is in SHIELD by using morse code! If you know it lmk!

Anon 1 said:

hi! I’m looking for a fic where Steve is Becca’s roommate and is Bucky’s sex friend, it’s ABO, and Steve is bottom and they go to a link party, Bucky calls Steve kitten and then Steve gets pregnant and beg Bucky to call their kid James ? Steve is diabetic and Bucky is really protective of him because of that. I really can’t find it anymore it’s annoying, thank you c:

Anon 2 said:

Hi, I for the life of me can not remember the name of a fic. It is super similar to Yours to Keep by nonsensicalbelle. The team is captured somewhere and separated from Steve and forced to watch as Steve reveals fears/secrets something along that line until he is then forced to admit he is in love with Bucky. Hopefully this ask is coherent enough. Thanks for any help in advance.

Anon sent in Always Afraid, Always Ashamed* by CaptainDean13 (complete | 11,052 | E) *graphic violence

Anon 3 said:

Hi I'm looking for a fic where Natasha and Tony are listening to a phone conv between Steve and Bucky flirting, then it becomes sexual and Bucky reveals he knew they were listening all along? Also Tony was surprised that steve got into it so easily and I think nat was kinda turned on? Thanks so much!

gayghostkid said:

hey!! i’m looking for a post-WS recovery fic. steve brings bucky in w/ the help of sam and nat. they end up in a safe house of sorts. details i remember: sam hoses bucky down to get him clean. steve and sam are shocked that he actually liked the feeling, describing how blissful he looks. i remember the end few chapters has the quartet living in a firehouse in texas, or another southern state. the chapter titles were similar to maslow’s hierarchy of needs : shelter, food, water, etc. merci!!

shadowobsidian said:

Hello! I'm looking for a fic that I read forever and a half ago. It's a post -winter soldier Stucky story with Bucky coming back to the tower, but still PTSD-y, and unable to really eat because he keeps throwing up and Bruce keeps trying to make him nutrition shakes and smoothies but they don't really help, and then they realize that it's all the chemicals in processed food so the whole tower goes organic and Tony buys a farm. Please help me!

Anon and drjezdzany sent in Thawed Out* by auburnnothenna (auburn), eretria (complete | 159,341 | E) *chose not to warn

Anon 4 said:

I'm looking for this fic where skinny Steve somehow ended up with the winter soldier and post serum Steve is with 1930s Bucky I think time traveling was involved? They were gonna go back to their correct timeline but feelings got involved so they stayed in the wrong time this is badly explained sorry

Anon 5 said:

You know the fic where is centered around the barnes family rebecca was a lesbian and married a gay guy to cover it up Bucky got into college but dropped out because Steve got sick

Anon sent in The History of a Family by boombangbing (complete | 225,954 | M)

slutforchrisevans said:

Hi! I’ve been trying to find this fic for the longest time and I can’t. I don’t remember much of it but it’s pre-serum Steve and before the war. Bucky comes home and he’s super horny because he took some medicine that’s supposed to give you energy i think? Steve is reluctant to do stuff though because bucky isn’t really in the right mind, but he’s not drunk it’s just the medicine. Sorry that was so vague but it’s literally all I remember :((

Anon sent in Up All Night by triedunture (oneshot | 3,598 | M)

idk-idc-idk said:

Hi! I’m looking for a modern AU I read. Steve is still captain america, and (I can’t remember if it’s hydra or shield) heavily controls his life. Bucky is secretly a modern winter soldier, and is sent to do surveillance on Steve. They meet at a boring gala, and Bucky decides to seduce Steve to get an upper hand. Bucky sees how much Steve’s life is controlled and it’s like Steve isn’t even his own person, like they want to bore him into obeying them. Steve switches sides but they come after him

deliveryisdelayed and stevenbirogers sent in Lessons in Normality by relenafanel (complete | 38,002 | E)

Anon 6 said:

Hello! I'm looking for a fic that featured Steve adjusting to the modern world's ideas about gender and sexuality, and him basically rejecting those ideas to be what people today would call genderqueer. I basically remember him wearing skirts and makeup, and it seemed to be heavily influenced by Gay New York by Chauncey.

Anon 7 said:

Hi!! There's this one fic where Bucky's this big mobster guy and Steve's in a gang and is always watching Bucky at this club. They meet up at this hotel and it has like a dom!bucky but top!steve. Thank you!

Anon 8 said:

Hi do you know of a fic where Natasha hires Steve to be an escort for Bucky at his family Christmas get together? I remember Nat was Bucky’s ex and Bucky’s cousin/relative was really homophobic. There was also a scene where Steve was shooting at beer cans and the cousin was impressed. Bucky and Steve ended up getting engaged like a year after. Thanks :)

Anon 9 said:

I read something a while back that I can’t find for the LIFE of me and I was wondering if you could help. Steve gets the serum and it shoots his libido through the roof and it he’s really out of hand and he needs shots and stuff to make his erection go away and bucky is a good friend and helps him out (I think, honestly I can’t remember a lot of details, it’s been a minute since I’ve read it) if you’d help I’d really appreciate it! Thank you!! Have a great day :)

Anon sent in you know I’d quench that thirst* by napricot (complete | 38,027 | E) */others

emilyshay said:

hi hi! i'm looking for a fic that i've read and i CANNOT put my finger on what it is. It has all these elements: - fury wants steve to pick some kind of companion, maybe a submissive of some sort, because he's been going rogue on missions and steve picks bucky out of a lineup because he looks "the worst" and would piss fury off - bucky is really down in he dumps and all he has to his name is his electric can opener  - bucky goes to some sort of intake interview thing, and he steals a lot of food from a buffet until someoen pities him and gives him a bag of food to take home - bucky is in steve's quarters right when he starts "working for" him and cooking for him and stuff, and steve completely ignores him and rejects him and bucky is really upset about it event hough he didn't want to be there - the payment for "working for" steve is getting a full ride to college and also a ton of cash. thank you!!!!

deliveryisdelayed and drjezdzany sent in Heart of Fools* by Claudia_flies (complete | 55,824 | E) *chose not to warn

[twinkskeletons]

omg please explain how awsten has brendon energy i genuinely wanna know your process (also yes the music is bad now it’s so sad 😭)

ok this might be very rambly and not make a lot of sense i’m not good at explaining stuff (and i’ve only been looking into this for like a day) but:

basically he just seems to be getting more and more self absorbed and like he cannot take any kind of criticism at all or even just neutral statements he disagrees with like being called pop punk (??) and the way they’ve been switching record labels for almost every album looks like awsten is super difficult to work with (also he seems to talk shit abt them in public all the time lol)

this is kinda small but it adds to the like, immature and unable to take criticism thing he’s got going ig and i think it was the first thing that made me go “oh wait does awsten kinda suck?”

he was being kind of an ass to an uber driver or something and posted the texts on twitter and when people were like “hey this guys just trying to do his job” he tweeted something along the lines of calling the people who said it was a dick move whiny babies who can’t take a joke like a child -_- (it is possible i’m remembering this wrong though it was a couple years ago)

a lot of the lyrics have been rubbing me the wrong way for a while as well like all the complaining abt how his fans don’t like him the right way and how hard it is to be rich and famous like please god write about something else ur lyrics used to be good!! the music in general has been on a steady decline in quality since dd/entertainment maybe but that’s just personal taste i guess.

the main thing that is specifically so brendon coded though is this clip of him on a podcast getting really mad at fans who comment on interviews saying they want to hear geoff and otto speak more calling them “fucking idiots” and implying the only reason anyone would want to hear them speak is bc they think they write lyrics ? idk it was painful to listen to i can’t believe anyone likes this dude when this is how he talks about his bandmates and fans. like imagine pete going on a rant about how stupid fans who say they’d like to hear more from joe and andy are lol

there’s probably more i could say and more things he’s done that i don’t know abt again i’ve only been looking into parx drama for about a day but yeah. i just find him annoying and egotistical and shitty to the other band members and his fan base

[peepeepotter]

New Girl Hogwarts AU Chapter 5: Merry Christmas, Georgie.

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader; Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley

Warnings: Cursing? I think?

Word Count: 3.2 K

Series Masterlist

“It was just so weird.” Y/N shuddered, using her rolling pin on a sheet of cookies in the Hogwarts kitchens.

“I mean, yeah, that sounds uncomfortable as fuck. What are you guys, teenagers?” Fred asked her, his head in his hand, watching her closely. He had told George before, Y/N is totally George’s type. Fred couldn’t help but think that it was a surprise it took this long for them to have an uncomfortable sexually tense encounter. “What did Terry say?”

“What do you mean? Terry didn’t see. I don’t want Terry to know. I’m trying to date casually right now.” Y/N said, suddenly remembering the reason she moved into the loft.

“Casually? With TERRY? Have you met that guy? He looks like he cries during sex.” This made Y/N laugh loudly.

“It’s so weird to talk about this with you. You’re his twin, maybe I shouldn’t be talking to his dead brother about this.”

“Hey, I’m basically alive. I’m just a ghost. And stuck in this stupid castle.” Fred pouted, reaching to grab cookie dough and put it in his mouth. “Although I really can’t taste much. But from what I remember, this tastes a lot like some cookies mum used to make.” Fred smiled.

“Fred, I love you, but please don’t talk about your mom when I just told you about a sexual encounter with your brother.”

“Sexually tense encounter at best, don’t get ahead of yourself, love. Anyway, how could you be attracted to him? I’m so much better looking than him.” Fred scoffed, fake-offended. In actuality, Fred was quite happy that George was moving on from Angelina. Fred was especially happy George was moving on with one of Fred’s most consistent friends at Hogwarts. Plus she baked like Molly.

“Fred, I hate to break it to you, but you died when you were a teenager, so you still look like one. As an adult, I’m not attracted to teenagers.”

“I’ll have you know I was twenty when I died. No longer a teenager, thank you very much.” Fred grinned. “Besides, mentally I’m like four years older than you.”

“You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes, but maintained a smile on her face. Y/N always liked hanging out with Fred, he was actually her first friend at the school. He found her crying one day after the breakup with McLaggen and did everything in his power to make her feel better about it. Ever since then, Y/N spent the majority of her free time between classes with Fred. She supposed it didn’t help that he looked an awful lot like the guy she liked. No, shut up, I don’t like him. Don’t listen to her thoughts, I’m the narrator. I’m always right, just wait.

“Y/N, do you even like Terry?”

“Well, he’s nice. And I could see myself liking him.”

“So you don’t.”

“Not yet.”

“Y/N.” Fred had his head resting in his hand against the counter, giving Y/N a look of pure disappointment. He knew Y/N and George would wind up together the minute he met her. He’s the one that showed her the ad on the wizarding web for a new place to live. Although, Y/N wasn’t happy that he didn’t tell her that she would find a man identical to him when she went to the interview with the boys. Fred just shrugged, he knew George well enough to know that they’d let her move in. He also knew George well enough to know that George would find Y/N just as adorable as Fred did.

“I just, maybe I need to rebound, okay? I don’t want to end up with someone like Terry, but I don’t want to end up hurting someone I really like in case I’m not ready to date yet.” To Fred, this sounded like code for ‘I don’t want to fuck up with your brother.’

“So you’re using Terry.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Y/N!” Fred chuckled, knowing he was right.

“I mean, so what? We’ve only been on a few dates, what’s the worst that could happen?” Little did Y/N know, she’d just jinxed herself.

-

“I’m sorry, what?” George asked, throwing his head back on the couch.

“We’re going to a party. Together, all of us.” Draco asserted. “None of you have a choice, I need people to know I have friends.” At this, Harry and George started snickering. Draco might not have been as bad as he was when they were at Hogwarts, and it certainly helped that he switched sides at the battle of Hogwarts, but people still didn’t like him.

“You mean you need—” George started.

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Draco quickly interrupted.

“What are we doing?” Y/N asked upon leaving her bedroom. “I was on the phone with my mom, what’s going on?”

“You mean mum, you stupid American.” George said unwavering, taking a sip from his beer.

“Okay, ha-ha, it was funny at first, now it’s just sad.” Y/N scrunched her nose. “Also do you ever drink water? I don’t think I’ve seen you drink anything other than beer for the past few months.”

“No comment.”

“We’re going to a Christmas party on Christmas eve.” Draco answered. He was tired of the two bickering all the time, and wouldn’t entertain it anymore.

“Oh fun! Can we also go look at Christmas lights? There’s this no-maj neighborhood not far—”

“A what neighborhood?” George asked, teasing Y/N.

“Muggle. I hate it here.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it’s called Candy Cane Lane and it’s supposed to be super cute.” Y/N’s face lit up, her hands clapping lightly out of excitement. George felt that stupid feeling in his stomach again.

“No.” Draco said.

“Sure.” George shrugged. Draco turned and glared at him. “If we have time. I have to get to the Burrow that night. I’ve missed Christmas with my family for the past three years because of these idiots.” He gestured towards Neville and Harry chatting in the kitchen.

“You’re supposed to party on Christmas eve!” Harry interjected.

“Yeah, party, not get black out drunk and go to the hospital annually.” George muttered, causing Y/N to giggle quietly. She took a seat on the couch near him. To her it seems that they had gone back to normal after their interaction on Thanksgiving.

“We’ll go if we have time.” George whispered to her again. She nodded with a small smile on her face.

“So Y/N,” Harry started, walking towards the couch from the kitchen. 

“Harold.”

“It’s actually—”

“Just Harry, I know, it was a joke.”

“What are you getting your boyfriend for Christmas?”

“Oh god, I have to get him something? We're barely dating. What do you get someone you’re not that close to?”

“You don’t?” George offered.

“A plant?” Neville shouted from the kitchen.

“Hand soap. I have the feeling that man doesn’t have any in his bathroom.” Draco straight-faced. Y/N snorted.

“Let’s go to the shops and find something.” Harry smiled.

--

“Why? Why did I split up and go with you?” Y/N sighed, standing behind George who was distracted by some small robotic trinket. Y/N, a muggle-born, had seen them all the time as a teenager. George clearly had not.

“Because I’m the comic relief of the group. Also, I’m the hot one.” George smirked at her. She rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face she was hoping he wouldn’t see. He did.

“Whatever, help me pick something for this stupid man.”

“So you admit it?”

“What?”

“He’s stupid?”

“I mean, yeah, but I have a muggle doctorate and I’ve studied magical creatures forever. I’d say objectively most people are stupid to me.”

“Even me?”

“Especially you.” He pushed her arm lightly, she pushed back laughing.

“Just get him one of these. They’re cute. He’s simple.” George shrugged, handing the small robot that said “Merry Christmas,” over and over to her. She shrugged, figuring he’s right.

“What about you? What do you want for Christmas?” Y/N asked. She asked to be nice, but she had already gotten him a bunch of Friends merchandise. George had proved to be a real sucker for most muggle things.

“Don’t get me anything. Seriously.” He turned towards her quickly. He had a stern look on his face.

“Why?”

“Because I’m horrible at gift giving, and I always feel in-debted when someone gives me something really good.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke this time, walking towards more muggle items. She raised her eyebrows, noting that she might have to return his Christmas gift. Actually, no. He’s getting a gift. Idiot.

--

“Here, merry Christmas.” Y/N said to Terry. They sat at the foot of her bed the day before Christmas Eve, giving each other their gifts.

“You open yours first.” He smiled at her, handing her the envelope. She opened it with a shrug. Her heart dropped. In front of her were two passes to a portkey that would take them to New York City. At the bottom of the card that contained the tickets, Terry had written a sweet note, signed with love. Love? Oh Merlin.

“I-I—” She stuttered, not knowing what to say. “Thanks, Terry.” She suddenly felt very bad for her cheap muggle gift. When he opened it, though, he wasn’t disappointed, just amused by the toy.

“Thank you so much.” He grinned at her. “I love you so much.” Her heart dropped further, and she had to keep herself from cringing.

“T-thanks.”

--

“Oh no. You said THANKS? To a confession of love?” George asked, all of the guys holding back laughs as she sat on the couch with her head in her hands.

“What was I supposed to do? Lie?” Her words were muffled by her hands.

“Well, no, but thanks?” Harry chortled out. Draco was bent over, almost on the ground from laughter. Neville was flushed red from secondhand embarrassment.

“What do I do? Break up with him? I’m not ready for any of this.” Y/N felt nauseous.

“I mean, weren’t you just kind of using him anyway?” George lectured.

“Why do you guys keep saying that?”

“You guys?”

“You fucking Weasley’s, your brother said that too.” She rolled her eyes, storming into her room. She hated living with men. They were never helpful but always thought they were.

--

The next day, George opened her bedroom door without knocking. She glared at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, I overreacted. I’m just annoyed at the situation.”

“Well, we’re leaving soon, so get ready.” He offered, ducking back out of her room. Y/N put on black tights and a little black dress. She grabbed a red coat after putting on fake eyelashes. She grabbed her purse, and opened her door while slipping on her heels. Stumbling into the hall, she once again was faced with several men staring at her.

“Why do you guys do this every time I wear a dress?”

“You’re pretty.” Neville smiled, making Y/N almost tear up. They always did this, stare at her, but they almost never complimented her.

“Yeah, plus we only ever see you in sweatpants. So maybe we would stare less if you dressed less like a goblin every day.” Draco said, ruining the moment and heading towards the door.

“I don’t think you look like a goblin.” George whispered to her as they walked out of the loft. She smiled softly up at him.

Upon arriving at the party, Draco flocked towards his work wife. Harry headed towards Ginny, ready to give her the gift he got her. He was only slightly disappointed to find that she had brought a date to the party. 

“Here, Ginny.” He gave her the small box when her new boyfriend (boy toy, hopefully) walked away to get her a drink.

“Harry, you didn’t have to get me anything.” She said guiltily, not having gotten him anything. She opened it slowly as he shrugged in response. It was a small bottle. “What is it?” Her eyebrows scrunched. Harry laughed.

“It’s perfume. I’m not telling you that you stink, before you say that.” Ginny smiled, glad to know Harry knew her so well. “It’s a bunch of scents that remind me of you.” He shrugged, not wanting to admit that he had Draco make amortentia to see what she smelled like.

“Oh Merlin, if I smell like this I’m so sorry.” She coughed upon smelling it, making Harry laugh.

“Yeah, it’s a little all over the place. But it’s the thought, I guess?” She grinned at him, nodding.

Meanwhile George and Neville followed Y/N over to Terry. After a short, awkward conversation, Y/N excused herself to the bathroom. Neville walked away to find Luna. George stayed with Terry.

“So, quite a present you got her.” George said awkwardly, drinking from a plastic cup.

“Oh yeah, I think she really liked it.”

“Eh.”

“What? Did she tell you she didn’t like it?”

“I think it was just a lot really soon, buddy.”

“Oh no, do you think I should’ve toned it down?”

“Probably, Terry. You spent a small fortune and told her you loved her after like three weeks.”

“Oh no, what are you saying? Did she say she doesn’t love me? I was so stressed after she didn’t say it back, but I just assumed she was nervous.”

“I— you know I don’t actually think it’s my place to tell you that, Terry.”

Simultaneously, Y/N and Ginny convened in the bathroom.

“Did you like the present Harry got you?”

“It doesn’t smell very good, but it was really sweet.”

“Well, yeah, it’s Harry. He’s been in love with you for like, ever.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I mean, has he, though?”

“You absolute idiot.”

“Whatever, did you like what Terry got you?”

“I didn’t tell you, yet? He got me plane tickets to the states for him and I and told me he loved me. When I’m out here thinking about my roommate.”

“Oh Merlin, so a bad perfume is definitely the way to go.” Y/N nodded in agreement. “Why are men so difficult?” Ginny added.

“It’s like they’re so simple that it’s difficult.” Y/N hummed. “We should go back out there.” They fixed their appearances in the mirror slightly before returning to the party. Y/N found George and Terry out on the balcony.

“You really don’t love me?” Terry said, turning around to face her with tears in his eyes.

“What? Where did this come from?” Before anyone could answer, she turned to George who immediately cringed. “What did you do?”

“I just- sometimes I speak without thinking?”

“Terry, don’t listen to this idiot.” George put his hands up in defense and went to leave back to the party, but found the door locked. He went for his wand and realized he had forgotten it at the loft.

“Oh no.” George whispered

“You don’t like me, do you? Did I do too much too soon? Be honest, stop doing that thing where you make me feel better.” Terry looked like a puppy, making the whole situation a lot worse.

“Somebody please help!” George pleaded, banging against the glass.

“I-Terry. Yes, okay? You scared me. It was a lot really soon. I just got out of a relationship, and I really wanted to take it slow.” Y/N confessed.

“I’m stuck out here! This is so awkward, please help!” George kept banging on the door.

“I— what if I can’t do that?” Terry asked.

“LET ME OUT!!!” George shouted.

“You can’t take it slow?” Y/N scrunched her brow.

“Oh Merlin.” George sat on the ground against the door.

“Isn’t it obvious? If I already love you and you can’t say it back, maybe we shouldn’t be together.” Although Terry’s words kind of hurt, Y/N felt somewhat relieved. “I’ll see you at work, alright?” Terry approached the door and unlocked it wordlessly with his wand.

“Thanks Terry.” George went to follow behind Terry as he left, but stopped, looking back at Y/N. He sighed, realizing he needed to clean up the mess he had made. He walked back over to her, leaning against the balcony next to her.

“You know, I think maybe this was my fault.” He admitted, looking through the glass doors at the party.

“You think, George?” She snapped.

“Well, didn’t you want to break up with him anyway?”

“Yeah, I did, but I wanted to do it on my own terms.” She puffed a breath of air out of her lips.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to completely ruin your relationship. I was trying to help him tone it down.”

“Well, thanks I guess.” She pushed off of the balcony, heading back into the party to find Neville and Luna.

“Well, fuck.” George sighed. 

--

The group, Ginny included, left the party at three in the morning. Walking through town, George attempted to rush his sister and Harry.

“We’ve got to get to the burrow like, three hours ago.” 

“Who cares? Mum and dad are asleep. They won’t know we were late.”

“Because I still have to wrap all my gifts, Gin.” George sighed. Y/N was behind the group, attempting to peel her shoes off despite the snow. Harry and Ginny started talking, and George looked around for his best friend. Finding Y/N at the back of the group, he slowed his pace until he was walking with her. He looked at her shoeless feet, walking in only stockings in the deep snow. He sighed.

“Stop.” Y/N looked up at him, his voice startling her. “All of you, stop. We’ve gotta go somewhere.”

“I thought you needed to get home to wrap your gifts.”

“We’ll just be late. It’s fine.” George shrugged, he faced Y/N suddenly. “Jump on my back, alright?” He leaned down in front of her, offering a piggy-back ride. Y/N smiled a little and climbed up on his back. The group walked to Candy Cane Lane. Upon arriving, the magic-users were disappointed. The lights were all off.

“HEY!” George started shouting.

“Oh my god, George it’s not that important, it’s okay.” Y/N whispered into his ear. Goosebumps raised on his neck upon feeling her breath so close to him.

“It is important! It’s Christmas! COME ON! YOU ALL PUT SO MUCH EFFORT INTO THESE STUPID LIGHTS! TURN THEM ON!” He shouted. Ginny grinned.

“YEAH! TURN THEM ON!” Ginny shouted

“TURN THEM ON!!” Harry grinned.

“WAKE UP!!!” George added.

“TURN THEM ON!!” Neville shouted, although much more softly than the rest.

Suddenly, one at a time, each house’s lights turned on. Draco’s wand was lifted, turning on each house's Christmas lights.

“You all are so dumb. We are fortunate enough to have magic, there was a whole war. Remember?” Draco rolled his eyes.

Y/N grinned, feeling her heart swell upon seeing the bright Christmas lights. “Thanks, Georgie.” She whispered, nestling her cheek against his neck. This time his heart swelled.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” He said, squeezing her thighs as he held her up off the ground.

“Merry Christmas, Georgie.” Y/N pressed a soft kiss against his cheek.

Taglist: @yllwtaxi @ememseay @droppingthegloves @wassup-peoples @dejayoon @astoriaplease @postsbyjenipeo @edmunds-torch @ummmlana @kennreid @charming-fan-girl @expelliarmusmyass @boxofbadaddiction @pillowjj @losers-club6 @concepcion @gaysludge @melizabethhack @n-dg-wm @when-thedarkness-comes @sarcasticallywitty15 @kinkycalamari @draco-and-tom @rangotangomango 

Permanent taglist: @amourtentiaa​

A/N: if anyone wants to be added please just comment or message me and ask! I’m also working on submissions and asks if anyone wants a one shot or something <3 -mj

[agentfrostbite]

It's Saturday and I'm in the mood, so let's talk about Elijah Kamski

Specifically about how he treats his Chloes. Obviously this is an opinion, and everyone is entitled to theirs, but as I read Chlonnor ship fics (they are adorable and I am unrepentant), I notice that a lot of them have Chloe becoming a deviant after Connor chooses not to shoot her. I don't have a problem with this, per se, but I have noticed several things in game that makes me think she's already a deviant.

1. The other two Chloes are already deviant

It's a small detail that tends to get overlooked because you're busy focusing on meeting Elijah and "OMG, Amanda's dead??" and later whether or not Connor actually shot Chloe. But these two girls right here?

They're talking. They're chatting with each other. I know that doesn't sound like much, but look back on the rest of the game thus far. Androids that aren't deviant don't converse with other androids because there's no reason they should. They have a job, and unless they're being addressed by a human, that job doesn't involve talking. You know who does converse? Deviants. Additionally, they're just lounging in the pool, and I guess that Kamski could have ordered them in there because he doesn't like swimming alone/likes to swim with his Chloes/some other potentially creepier thing, but it feels a little too natural for that.

2. Kamski pushes Connor toward his own decision

Looking back on the scene, it's clear that Kamski is trying to force Connor into making the choice of whether or not to shoot Chloe, against Connor's will. He directly pits Connor's programming against his collected software instabilities to see which is stronger. Yes, he is a scientist, first and foremost, so he's gathering data through his test, but I think he's strongly leaning towards - and pushing Connor towards - a pro-deviant standpoint.

His dialogue throughout the scene puts longer, more emotional, emphatic language on the idea of deviancy and the free will of androids - specifically of Connor. He pushes Connor to attempt an answer outside his programming ("Well, that's what you're programmed to say... but you...what do you really want?") and he places special emphasis on Connor's individuality ("Decide who you are. An obedient machine... Or a living being endowed with free will...") in the critical moment just before Connor decides whether or not to shoot.

That, combined with the fact that the two Chloes in the pool are conversing - and at this point, watching the scene, one notably with a concerned/uncertain look as she turns back around - tells me that Kamski is supportive of the idea of deviants.

3. Kamski closes off and expresses almost negative emotion if Connor does choose to shoot Chloe

If Connor decides that his mission is more important than Chloe and shoots, Kamski's attitude makes a definite shift. Where earlier he was toying with Hank and Connor, giving cryptic answers and sidestepping the main issue they were there to discuss, after Chloe is shot, he switches to straight answers and short replies.

Additionally, this post by @omentrash​ highlights Kamski's obviously upset expression when Connor chooses to shoot Chloe. Call it what you like, but to me, this says he absolutely did not want Connor to fire.

4. No matter what route you choose, Kamski tells Connor about the emergency exit

In any situation where Connor ends up in a place of partial or total deviancy, Amanda resumes control of his program and traps him in the white-out blizzard Zen Garden. In this case, the only way for Connor to escape is to use the emergency exit. But he only knows about it because Kamski goes out of his way to inform Connor of it (and we'll get to the ramifications of Kamski knowing about Connor having it later).

Obviously in the deviant best ending, Connor uses this to avoid shooting Markus and the surviving Jericrew in the back, and most of the time, this ending was preceded by Connor deciding not to shoot Chloe. So yes, it makes sense that Kamski would inform him about a way out, should something like what Amanda does happen to him. But he also tells Connor about it if Connor does shoot Chloe, which lets us know that Kamski is hoping that perhaps Connor will deviate somewhere later down the line. He didn't do it here, but he might when faced with the same situation at a future time. Kamski is looking out for Connor, even though Connor isn't a deviant yet, because Kamski has hope that he might become one.

5. Deviants are capable of acting like normal androids

I include this one to illustrate that just because Chloe appears to be a perfect hostess here

and shows no emotion when faced with life or death doesn't mean that she's not a deviant. We know that deviants can, when necessary, act like normal androids. Markus and North do it at Stratford. (Specifically pointing out the part where a human opens the bathroom door, and Markus snaps to attention at the side, like a good little obedient Android janitor.)

Kamski is the Man of the Century. He revolutionized life for everyone across the planet by successfully creating a robotic assistant species that walks, talks, and looks roughly human, while doing everything a human can do with far more efficiency. Of course he gets house calls. And if his androids are deviants - and at the very least, the two in the pool are, so why wouldn't his first android be one as well? - and people come calling, they'd need to act like proper androids. Chloe, especially, since she greets people at the door and is the poster child.

And you'll notice, even in her interview, she acts more human than most androids do. She stammers, she smiles, she's clearly nervous. She shifts back and forth, readjusting in her seat like a human would. Sure, she needed to do these things to pass the Turing Test, but there's a deeper feel to it than just good programming. I think she was leaning heavily toward deviancy at that point. Not there yet, but close. That was years before we see her at Kamski's house in the game. She must be a deviant by now.

6. Kamski left an emergency exit in Connor's program, meaning that he had some hand in Connor's creation

So Kamski leaves emergency exits in all his programs; I think we've beaten the dead horse enough at this point, but I gotta do it one more time because why would Connor have his program? Base code, sure. Okay, we can make that argument that every android has the same base code as the original program. But we can also make the argument - and it has stronger evidence - that Kamski himself had a huge hand in developing the RK series. Proof? Markus.

Markus was a gift from Kamski to Carl; we know this from Connor's scan of Markus at Stratford Tower. We also know that Markus was a unique prototype, since his police file not only states this but also doesn't have a picture of him. No photo at all. Just a blank face, and "Unknown series" and a DESTROYED.

If Markus was one of a small handful, then they'd have a photo of another. They certainly wouldn't have a "Unknown Series" on the file. This makes me think that Kamski made Markus on his own and then gifted him to Carl. I suspect this means that he still has connections at CyberLife, which he used to get the parts for Markus. By giving Markus to Carl, knowing that Carl would cause him to deviate, he set up the seed of the revolution. Now why would Kamski do that, unless he was pro-deviant?

Summary

CyberLife decides to create an android detective/negotiator with the most cutting edge technology and coding the world has ever seen. This model would hunt down deviants and bring them back, if possible, for analysis so CyberLife could lock down the problem and eliminate it with a software patch. It's a delicate operation; after all, Connor starts with his toes on the line of deviancy. Presumably, when he goes to rescue Emma from Daniel, it's his first mission, and already, he's struggling with software instabilities. To think like a deviant, you have to be as unpredictable as possible. That means that he's right on the edge, and he remains on that edge for most of the game, depending on what the player decides to do with him.

So CyberLife need some assistance getting the code ironed out to ensure their Deviant Hunter doesn't become a deviant himself (until the time is right), so they turn to the man who first invented androids and has already technically worked on the RK series: Kamski. They ask - or perhaps Kamski himself offers - and Kamski works on the code. Not all of it, not even the majority, just the few bits and pieces where their almost-deviant and anti-deviant codes clash. All of his work is surely checked - secretly, of course; no need to make him think they don't trust him - so there's really only one thing he can add to Connor's program: the emergency exit. And that's why Connor is his program, why CyberLife would allow the exit to remain, why Kamski points it out, no matter what you choose.

And Kamski would do none of this - it doesn’t make sense for him to do any of this - unless he's secretly cheering on the revolution from the sidelines.