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beskarandblasters · 1 month

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Enchanted to Meet You

Security Guard!Din Djarin x Senator/F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: Inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift! Part of the Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! This is also way more than a drabble and possibly some of my favorite smut I’ve ever written?!?!

Summary: You’re a senator for the New Republic and tonight you’re forced to attend the New Republic Gala. Senator Xiono won’t leave you alone but that in turn leads you to meet Mando, a security guard at the event. And that leaves you wonderstruck.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, reader has consumed alcohol, creepy guy at the gala, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, pull out method, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Small talk. Painful small talk. Your cheeks hurt from faking smiles and pretending to nod at people’s boring anecdotes. If you fake laugh at one more unfunny story you’re going to lose it. Everyone here is so insincere, only here to further their own political gain. It’s a gala for the New Republic, sure but what happened to the social aspect of it? It just feels fake, like the whole thing is a facade.

The only thing that makes tonight semi-bearable is your dress– midnight blue chiffon with silver stars embroidered throughout the fabric. A dress that you’d like to meet someone in if you weren’t surrounded by self-absorbed politicians.

The gala is decorated extravagantly. The lights on the dance floor reflect gorgeously off your dress and your jewelry. The music is actually quite catchy for a party full of bureaucrats. And the multiple rounds of revnog are certainly helping you loosen up.

If only you had someone to share it all with.

You don’t feel like you fit in here. Most of the senators are Coruscant, Chandrila, and other Core planets. You’re from Naboo and that makes you feel like an outsider among the Galaxy’s elite.

A tap on your shoulder interrupts your train of thought.

“Care to dance?”

You turn around, the skirt of your dress swaying with the motion, and find Senator Hamato Xiono.

“With you? Not a chance.”

“Aw, come on. Perfect opportunity to talk trade routes. The music, the lights… it might make you think differently about voting no on my proposal.”

“Because your proposal lacks any real research.”

“You’ll change your mind once I’m done with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, stepping towards you and grabbing your arm.

You attempt to pull away from him but his grip is tight, snug around your wrist. The blood drains from your face and adrenaline courses through you. He’s trying to talk about politics now… at a party? And on top of all that he put his kriffing hands on you.

“Is there a problem here?” a sultry-toned voice asks.

You look to your left and find a man wearing silver armor. Tall, broad, an absolute unit. His face is concealed by a helmet that matches the rest of his armor, a T-shaped visor running down the middle.

Senator Xiono lets go of your wrist and you let it fall to your side. His touch leaves tingling marks on your skin, and not the good kind.

“Nope. We’re fine. Aren’t we?” Senator Xiono asks, a fake smile gracing his face.

You look at him and then back at the strange masked man before saying, “I need some air.”

You walk past both of them, your ears ringing with anger as the other partygoers' faces blur around you. The adrenaline doesn’t start to subside until the cool nighttime air hits your face.

Alone on the balcony, leaning against the railing and looking at the sea of speeders beneath you. Deep breaths and counting to ten calm you down. And once your mind is finally clear you ask yourself… Who was that man?

“Are you alright?” the same silky voice as before asks.

You don’t have to see him to know who it is but you turn around anyway, meeting his visor.

“I’m fine… But thank you for checking on me,” you say before glancing at the view of Coruscant again. Your hands grip the cool metal railing and the wind causes goosebumps to prick your skin.

“...Who are you?” you ask, still not looking at him.

“I was hired as security for the event,” he says, not saying who he really is.

“I see…”

You sense him standing next to you at the railing, matching the same pose you’re making, his gloved hand so dangerously close to yours.

“Thanks for stepping in back there,” you say, turning your head and looking at him. Your eyes are always drawn to his visor. It should be unsettling looking at something without a discernible face. And yet all it does is intrigue you.

“He was disrespecting you.”

“He tends to do that.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“I’m sure you deal with much worse… Are you always doing security?”

“I’m a bounty hunter,” he says, turning to face you.

“A bounty hunter?” you ask, facing him too, your eyes widening.

“Mhm.”

You’re not sure why… but that excites you. It’s a contrast from your boring day-to-day routine of paperwork and meetings– a life on your own, living by no one’s rules.

“Tell me more about that.”

He gestures to a bench in the center of the balcony where you follow him, sitting side by side, thighs touching ever so slightly. You listen to him recount fascinating stories, ones where he’s brave and slaying countless people left and right. But he also tells you a story about the time he was bested by a blurgg. He makes you laugh. And surprisingly he laughs, too.

Maker, his laugh.

You’ve only just met him yet his laugh is like music to your ears. The conversation is so natural, so easygoing. You feel like you can be yourself around him. You hope he feels the same way about you. Your mind starts to wander… What does he look like underneath the helmet?

“Can I tell you something?” you say.

“What?”

“I wish I could kiss you.”

“...Really?”

“But you can’t take off the helmet.”

“You’re right. It’s a part of my creed.”

He pauses for a moment before saying, “Let me show you other things I can do.”

He rises from the bench and extends his hand out to you. You take it, interlocking your fingers with his as he leads you back inside. He pushes through crowds of people, leading you down a hallway and into a refresher.

He locks the door and turns to face you, looking you up and down as he walks closer to you. You take a step back and feel your back touch the sink. His hands ghost your waist and his helmet cocks to the side.

“Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” you breathe out.

His hands slide up your waist, caressing the outline of your breasts.

“I may not be able to kiss you… But I can show you a good time.”

He spins you around so you’re facing the mirror. Excitement pools between your legs as you watch him hike up your dress. Not once did you think you’d be having sex in this dress, let alone in the refresher at the gala.

He leans forward and whispers in your ear, “Bend over for me, cyar’ika.”

You follow his instructions, internally wondering what the nickname means.

“No underwear?” he asks once your lower half is fully exposed, “Naughty girl.”

You giggle and rest against the sink, gripping the ceramic as he tugs off his glove. He lifts his helmet for a split second, just barely enough to expose his mouth. You close your eyes out of respect and hear him spit in his hand. Once you feel his fingers tease your entrance you open your eyes. His helmet is secured on his head and his body leans over yours, a finger sliding inside you slowly. A small gasp escapes your lips. He barely gives you any time to warm up to one finger before sliding in the second. Not that you’re complaining. He curls his fingers against your walls, pushing against your g-spot. Your moans fill the refresher, gradually getting louder and louder as he brings you closer to the edge.

“Shhh,” he whispers in your ear, “Be quiet, mesh’la. There are people in the hallway.”

Another nickname.

You bite your lip and meet his visor in the reflection of the mirror, doing your best to not make too much noise. He pulls your first orgasm from you, knees trembling beneath you as you grip the sink. You bite your lip harder and try to be quiet but it’s hard. It’s too hard when he’s making you feel this good. He’s so skilled with just his fingers but you suppose it makes sense given the helmet.

Once you’re done coming he pulls his fingers from you, one hand holding your hip as the other slathers his cock with the wetness you just produced. He leans forward again and whispers, “Got so wet for me, cyar’ika. I’m not even done with you yet,” just as he thrust his cock into you.

A sharp gasp of surprise escapes your lips. He’s large, splitting you apart. If it weren’t for the sink holding you up your knees would surely give out. Your entire body trembles with pleasure and he hasn’t even moved inside you yet.

You bite your lip again as he draws his hips back, slamming into you swiftly. It’s too hard to be quiet. A whimper forces its way out of your throat. And then again as he thrusts into you a second time. Staying quiet is impossible as he’s railing you. You watch him in the reflection, stone-cold visor staring back at you as you’re reduced to a shivering mess beneath him. Yet he remains his composure, his pace never faltering.

You wonder what his cock looks like; a clue as to what the rest of him looks like. He wasn’t kidding when he said he could show you all the other things he can do. His cock hits the most perfect angles inside you. And the refresher is not only filled with your moans but also the wet squelching sounds of your cunt.

Your walls tense up in anticipation of a release. And though your second orgasm hasn’t happened yet you know this one is going to be bigger than the last, thanks to his impressive size. But aside from the sheer size of his cock he knows how to use it. He knows how to melt you into a puddle, putty in his hands as you’re brought to the edge of orgasm.

With one last thrust of his hips, you’re coming around his cock. You’re fully whining and moaning now, bordering on screaming. For a moment you forget you’re in a public refresher, completely blissed out. He doesn’t remind you to keep quiet this time, watching your face in the mirror as you cum.

“Good girl,” he praises, slapping your ass with his bare hand. You let out another small gasp but it’s cut off by a moan of pleasure. He continues thrusting into you through your high, prolonging it even further. Stars dance in your vision and there’s a strange haze around Mando in the reflection. This…. This is euphoria. All from a man you just met tonight.

He hangs on until you’re done coming, pulling out of you right before he comes. He paints your ass with his release, a modulated groan slipping out from under the helmet. You wish you could see his face as he cums. You can only imagine what he looks like, eyes closed and mouth open as cum leaks from his cock.

Once he’s done he quickly reaches for a towel, cleaning up the mess on your ass. He tosses it in the trash and helps you stand upright as you smooth down the skirt of your dress.

“That was incredible,” you breathe out, voice still high-pitched from your two climaxes tonight.

He grabs your hand, thumb rubbing against yours. You glance down at his bare hand and you’re greeted with tan skin. You can’t help but wonder about him, more of his story, more of what he looks like. You could’ve stayed on the balcony and talked with him for hours. But you’re not complaining about what just happened either.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, cyar’ika,” he says.

But before either of you can ask what that and the other nickname means, there’s a knock on the door.

“Mando? Are you in there? You’re needed on the dance floor. There’s been an incident,” a man’s voice says.

“I’m sorry…” he says, putting his cock away and bending down to grab his other glove, “I’ll find you after?”

“I’m okay! Go do your job,” you tell him.

He lingers for a moment, looking at you one last time before leaving the refresher and meeting whoever is in the hallway. You hang back for a moment until they’re both gone.

You glance at yourself in the mirror, ensuring you’re presentable before returning to the gala. There’s a bunch of commotion and groups of people are being ushered out. It must’ve ended early due to whatever incident happened on the dance floor. It’s all so overwhelming, loud noises and bustling crowds of people.

You spot Mando, talking to none other than Senator Xiono and another small group of people. You roll your eyes. Mon Mothma’s going to have to reprimand him. You figure you’ll just wait around until Mando’s done but another security guard comes up behind you and shouts.

“Everyone out! Party’s over!” he shouts, ushering you out with the sea of people. You open your mouth to protest but he shouts, “Let’s go! Get a move on!”

You glance over your shoulder at Mando, who’s still talking to Senator Xiono. His hands are on his hips as Senator Xiono argues with him. Mon Mothma’s there too now. It looks like he’ll be a while much to your dismay.

You follow the crowd outside, trying to wait on the platform for Mando but yet again security guards are ushering people into speeders. It isn’t until a guard practically shoves you into one that you accept your fate. You’re leaving whether you like it or not.

You stare at the tapestry of stars above you, replaying the night’s events. You were dreading coming to this event and here you are leaving… enchanted; wonderstruck. As the speeder takes you back to your hotel you wonder to yourself…

When will you see him again? Is he promised to someone else? Is there some other woman waiting on him somewhere else in the Galaxy? What did those nicknames mean?

The walk to your room is spent with your cheeks on fire, staring at the floor smiling, giddy like a little kid. Tonight was magical, flawless up until you were ripped away from each other too soon.

There’s one thing for certain, you were enchanted to meet him.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #ts drabble challenge

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chongoblog · 1 month

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My First Pokemon Playthrough

So I've noticed in my time of talking about Pokemon, I've told a lot of various anecdotes that are all a part of my very first time playing Pokemon. I was feeling nostalgic, so I figured I would share what I remember about this playthrough for everyone to enjoy. There may be a tangent or two in there and people who have followed me a while may have heard these before, but hey.

For context, I believe I was about 8 years old at the time, and after collecting some Pokemon cards, watching a kid play Crystal at summer camp, watching some of the anime, and generally being a pretty big fan (I even have Pokemon Yahtzee burned into my memory for some reason...), I finally got myself a Game Boy Advance with Super Mario Advance 2: Super Mario World, some Frogger game (after looking it up, it was Temple of the Frog), Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2, and, of course, Pokemon Sapphire.

I remember that my starter was Torchic. I don't remember why I chose that one, although I remember really liking the color red at the time (which I still do), so that was probably why.

I don't remember too much about my team or the general progress I made in most of the game, but I do remember Slateport City. For those who do not recall, in Slateport City in order to advance you need to get into the museum, which is blocked off by Team Aqua Grunts until you talk to someone in the shipyard. There are also Team Aqua grunts blocking the route ahead

Now, my 8 year old brain for some reason concluded that the only way to get past the Team Aqua Grunts was to intimidate them with a high enough level Pokemon or something like that. So one night, while I was supposed to be asleep on a family beach vacation, I beat down more poor level 13 Pokemon than I could count. I learned later what I was actually SUPPOSED to do, which led to me finally fighting the Team Aqua Grunts.....with a level 42 Blaziken.

And since the Name Rater was in Slateport City and my starter had evolved, I figured it was only appropriate to give him the new moniker "MAGMA MAN"

The rest of the playthrough went about as normally as tearing through the game with mostly Blaziken normally would go. There were a couple exceptions though. First off, at the Weather Institute, after I saved the day from Team Aqua, they were kind enough to gift me a Castform, but my party was full, so I couldn't get it. My 8 year old self did not read this. (Remember this, it will come back later). But I managed to make my way through the game, catching Kyogre with my Master Ball and giving it the nickname "LEGENDARY"

Then we come to the Elite Four where I hit a brick wall. I don't remember my team at the time exactly, but I do remember it was MAGMA MAN which had reached about level 80 or so, LEGENDARY which was about level 48, a level 36 Pelipper, two level ~35 Tentacruels, and some other sixth Pokemon I don't recall. And for some reason, I just couldn't beat the Elite Four with this team for some weird reason. The best I could ever get to was Drake. I felt I was utterly defeated.

That's when we bring a new character into the story. A member of my friend group at the time who we'll call "John" to protect the innocent. Now John had a very "uncle who works at nintendo" type energy to him. The group used to play Gauntlet: Dark Legacy together all the time, and when I got the GBA port of it, he convinced me to trade my recently obtained copy of the Pokemon Trading Card Game Boy game for a Gameboy-Gamecube cables, only for me to learn too late that it didn't work like that, and from there, there were no backsies (but then I got ahold of a copy of Pac-Man VS and Four Swords Adventure then I learned to emulate, so who's laughing now).

Anyway, John saw that I was struggling and he decided that he wanted to help me out. You see, he had come across an incredibly powerful and rare Pokemon that couldn't be found in the wild. He had gotten it exclusive, and I had never seen it before. It was called a "Castform". Now John had Ruby version, so he decided that as much as it ached him to part with it, he figured it would be a reasonable trade to trade this powerful Castform for the slightly less powerful LEGENDARY. I agreed.

And then he moved to Ohio.

To this day, Castform is my least favorite Pokemon because of this betrayal. I was so distraught at 8 years old that I completely restarted my game of Pokemon Sapphire. I don't remember much about that second playthrough, but there's a reason why.

This rival battle on Route 110 is somewhat infamous for being quite the sudden difficulty spike. And since I knew how to get past Team Aqua now, I didn't have an over-leveled starter to stomp my rival with ease. After losing to her about five or so times, I got frustrated and figured that whatever team I had wasn't cutting it. So I restarted again.

In my third playthrough, I made it all the way to the rival battle on Route 110. Then she stomped me repeatedly. So I restarted again.

This cycle would go on for, like, 15 resets. I didn't count, but it felt like there was hundreds. As I would keep on resetting and playing through the early-game of Pokemon Sapphire (which I had practically memorized at this point), I would start to take things a lot less seriously, sometimes picking the girl character, making my name random gibberish, etc.

Eventually, on one of these playthroughs where I started with Treecko, I actually managed to beat the Route 110 Rival Battle! And on my first try too! And thus began the epic journey of a girl named DE.

Now, I'd figured at this point that maybe only leveling up one Pokemon wasn't the best approach, so I was trying to balance my teams a bit better (I guess my rival taught me something). I was making my way through the game, and one day I'm checking out my best friend's Pokemon in Ruby, and who do I see in his box, but a Kyogre. I take a look at his name, and I can't believe it. It was LEGENDARY. John had traded it to my friend before he moved.

My friend didn't know that it was originally mine, so he offered to trade it back, which I accepted. LEGENDARY was a disobedient little bastard since I didn't have enough badges, but he got the job done. I don't remember the team I ended up using to finally beat the Elite Four, but it included my Sceptile starter, a Sableye that somehow knew only Fighting-type moves, and two Kyogres, LEGENDARY and LEGENDARY2.

And that's my first playthrough of Pokemon Sapphire. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

#pokemon #now that im done typing this all out a minor addendum #the sableye was from my emerald playthrough #because his moveset was Brick Break Focus Punch Detect and Dynamicpunch #And Dynamicpunch was only teachable through a tutor in emerald #anyway yay story time

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amhrosina · 1 year

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Favorite Kind of Trouble (Matt Murdock x f!Reader x Frank Castle)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: Hiiiii! I feel like it’s been forever since I posted anything, but it’s only been a little over a week! While I battled writer’s block and also had one of the roughest weeks of my life, there was a resounding desire in my asks/replies for another poly!fic with Frank, reader, and Matt, and I finally got around to writing it today! I hope you enjoy it! Also a big shout out & thank you to my lovely beta reader @wheredidiputmyfish for being so great!

**This poly fic can be read separately from the others I’ve written, but at this point, they all take place in the same universe and are just glimpses into their relationship at different times, so if you like their dynamic, you can find links to the rest of the fics here or here!**

Summary: Frank and you get up to no good at a gala event, and Matt’s enhanced senses can’t help but focus on the pretty sounds you’re making from across the room.

(Warnings: oh brother, smut, like pretty much all smut zero plot, somewhat dom!frank, somewhat sub!matt, switch!reader, semi-public fun!!!, fingering, dirty talk (frank mainly lmfao), blow job, choking, wholesome poly flirting, frank and matt think they’re unworthy of each other!!!, they’re all idiots in love)

The gala had officially stretched into its fourth hour, and you couldn’t believe how incredibly unperturbed Matt looked as he politely chuckled at, yet another, bad joke told by the snobby businessman in the too-tight tux. You shifted in your seat, subtly stretching your legs towards Frank, who at least had the decency to look bored. Under the table, your left thigh brushed against his right, and his attention shifted to you as he cocked an eyebrow in your direction.

God, he was so pretty. You didn’t tell him enough, but every time Frank looked at you, even when you were out in public and he refused to let his guard down, the subtle softening of his eyes when they landed on you made him the prettiest goddamn man you’d ever met. You flicked your gaze across the table to Matt, who was putting on a good show and pretending to listen to a rather boring anecdote – the only man that rivaled Frank in the looks department – and they were both wound so tightly around your finger that you couldn’t imagine being happier with anyone else.

Most of the public had no idea that you, Frank, and Matt were something of a trio. They didn’t even know Frank’s real name. To most people, and certainly to the prying eyes of the elites attending the gala, you and “Pete” were a wealthy, but private couple who knew Matt through connections in the art world. They had no idea that the three of you shared a bed, a home, a life together. As frustrating as it was to keep that part of his life a secret, Matt gladly played the part. They didn’t get to wake up wrapped in the arms of the people he loved, and that’s really what mattered to him, and that way, Frank could have the honor of staking his claim over you in public. It all worked out rather well, when he thought about it.

Your gaze returned to Frank. Your eyes slowly followed the trail of buttons up his torso, over the bowtie at the base of his neck, attention snagging on his lips before finally meeting his intense stare. To others, Frank might look stoic, bored, and maybe even annoyed, but you saw the desire in his eyes, felt the way the muscles in his thighs flexed as he shifted in his seat. He wanted it too, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

The gleam in your eyes told him you were up to something, and even if he wasn’t able to read the mischief in your smirk, the subtle twist in Matt’s neck as his ears perked up told him everything he needed to know. Frank leaned closer to you, brushing your bare shoulder with his lips before whispering in your ear.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, and you nearly swore when his fingertips brushed over your bare knee. An innocent stroke of the hand from a caring lover. A simple, loving gesture between the mysterious couple that kept mostly to themselves at events like these. That’s what anyone who might be watching would assume, and you knew it.

“What if someone sees?” You breathed in a hushed whisper, but your legs were already opening for him. The effect he had on you was maddening.

“No one can see us.” He assured you, promptly glancing around the room again to solidify his promise. His hand rubbed lazy circles on your thigh, fingertips barely ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh as he slowly made his way up your leg.

“What if someone hears?” You eyed him warily, though the spark of desire had shot through you like a bullet the second he’d made contact with your skin.

“If you’re worried about it, you’ll just have to stay extra quiet, sweetheart.” He lightly flicked your nose with his free hand, grinning as annoyance briefly crossed your face. “Besides, Red’s bored too. He’s probably harder than I am right now, wishing he could touch himself under the table like I’m about to do to you.”

The abrupt sound of Matt’s knee crashing against the underside of the table pulled your attention from Frank. The guests seated near him jumped as he fumbled to catch his wine glass before it tumbled to the floor. You bit your lip in an attempt to smother your giggle. For a moment, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Matt cleared his throat, apologizing under his breath as he took a hefty swig of his wine. As the conversations around the room picked back up, Matt glared in your direction. You looked back at Frank, who was smirking.

“Want to play a game, sweetheart?” He whispered, breath coasting over the curve of your ear.

“Is it at poor Matty’s expense?” You cooed, spreading your legs wider as his fingertips grazed the lace of your underwear.

“Maybe.” He smirked, kissing the corner of your mouth.

He shifted your underwear aside, and you had to take a deep breath so that you didn’t moan as the cool air kissed your wet cunt. Frank was normally a patient man when it came to coaxing an orgasm out of you, opting to draw out the experience so that you could enjoy it as much as possible, even if that meant teasing you for hours before finally giving in to your begs. But tonight, with his attention half on you and half on Matt, he had very little patience for games. Not that you were complaining.

He slid a finger through your folds, relishing in the warmth and slickness he found there. You tensed in your seat, flicking your gaze to Matt, who looked like he was going to be sick. Frank’s warm breath heated your neck as he whispered against your skin.

“How long do you think Red will last like this?” He asked, eyes briefly flickering to Matt before returning to yours. He gently circled your clit, eyeing the heat that was crawling up your neck. “How long do you think he’ll be able to hear your pretty little moans before it becomes too much for him?”

Matt tugged at his bowtie, clearing his throat as sweat beaded on his forehead. The tension in the air was electric, and when he parted his lips, allowing the fullness of your desire to hit his senses, it nearly undid him. You were so wet around Frank’s fingers, and the sounds of your soft hums of pleasure combined with Frank’s teasing tone was enough to make him so hard that it ached. He tried and failed to divert his attention back to the conversation around him, only able to focus on your quiet sighs and Frank’s encouraging mumbles.

“I know you can hear us, Red.” Frank teased, adding pressure to your clit. You gripped your seat with white knuckles, panting at the friction building in your core. “I couldn’t help myself. She looks,” he plunged an additional finger into your cunt for emphasis, “ravishing tonight.”

Frank could feel how close you were, relished in the tightness of your cunt as it clenched around his fingers. Matt, he guessed, was not far behind you. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, fumbling with his glass as he tried to look interested in the story being told.

“C’mon Red. You know it’s impolite for a man to cum before a lady.” He mumbled, breathing into your ear. His eyes flickered between you and Matt, and both of you looked like you were about to cry. Matt’s fingers tightened on the glass, and you clenched around him again. “Don’t you want to cum in her tight cunt later? Don’t you want to fuck your cum deep into her pretty pussy? She’s been such a good girl tonight. She deserves our cum, Red, don’t you think?”

His vulgar words were your undoing. You wilted against his chest as your orgasm crashed through you, the throbbing pressure easing as he coaxed it out of you. You moaned as quietly as you could, muffled only by the fabric of Frank’s coat as you shuttered against him. Simultaneously, as you came around Frank’s fingers, Matt’s hand clenched around the wine glass so tightly that the glass cracked, and then shattered all over the table, spilling a red stain down the front of his pristine shirt.

The crowd around Matt shrieked, and Frank watched as he calmly excused himself from the table and hurried towards the bathroom. Guilt crashed through him, though he was sure Matt wouldn’t be upset about the shirt. He likely wouldn’t be upset about the small cuts in his hand either. Matt was forgiving like that. Frank didn’t feel like he deserved one bit of his kindness.

“Is she okay?”

The voice drew him out of his thoughts, back into his body, which was half curled around you as you recovered from your intense orgasm. The stranger sitting diagonal from you and Frank eyed him warily.

“Too much,” you panted, excuse already on the tip of your tongue, “wine. I think I had too much wine, darling.”

You ungracefully attempted to stand, and Frank wondered how much of this was for show and which parts of it were genuine as you leaned into his arms for support. The shakiness in your legs was definitely real, he decided.

“I’m going to take her to the bathroom to sober up. Thank you.” He nodded at the man, who was already half engrossed in another conversation as he led you in the direction that Matt had come a few minutes earlier. As soon as the two of you were out of sight, you straightened, giggling at the show you’d had to put on.

“I didn’t know I was dating an actress.” Frank grinned, rapping on the bathroom door with his knuckles.

“I didn’t know either.” You laughed again.

The door unlocked, and you and Frank covertly slid into the bathroom with Matt, who was a heated, panting mess against the tile of the walls. You could clearly see his desire tented in his pants, and you smirked at Frank in response.

“We did that.” You murmured, stepping closer to Matt’s whining figure.

Frank hummed, reaching for Matt’s hand and inspecting the wounds inflicted by the wine glass. You paused, waiting for a signal from Frank that Matt was okay. Matt was so delirious and high on desire that you knew he could be bleeding out and would insist that he was okay. A slight nod of Frank’s head told you to continue.

You sank to your knees, quickly unbuckling Matt’s belt and pulling his cock free from his pants. Frank wrapped a hand around Matt’s throat, gently pressing him against the wall as you licked the underside of Matt’s cock. Matt whimpered, involuntarily bucking his hips in response.

“Be patient, Red,” Frank murmured, pressing a kiss onto Matt’s jaw, “We’ll take care of you.”

You wrapped your lips around Matt, bobbing up and down his length in a feverish haze. Matt was so worked up that you knew it wouldn’t take long to undo him. Matt tried and failed to keep his whimpers and groans quiet, and he was so loud at one point that Frank had to cover Matt’s mouth with his hand, smothering the noises he couldn’t help but make.

You pushed yourself further down his length, opening your throat to him as you hurried your pace. Matt tensed, grabbing onto Frank’s arm as he let out a stunted groan. He grunted, and you felt thick spurts of cum make their way down your throat. You swallowed around him, grinning when he rested his head against the wall behind him, panting so hard that it sounded like he had just finished running a marathon.

You stood, adjusting your dress as Matt’s consciousness finally returned to his body. He smirked as he adjusted his pants.

“You two are the worst kind of trouble.”

“We're your favorite kind of trouble.” You corrected, chuckling and eyeing the stain that probably wouldn’t come out of Matt’s shirt no matter how hard you scrubbed it. “Sorry about your shirt.”

“And your hand.” Frank added. Guilt flashed in his eyes, but it ebbed away as Matt kissed both of you deeply, hands gently cradling the two of you. Matt wouldn’t admit it so nonchalantly, but when he got the chance to hold both of you like this, he felt like he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands.

“I’m not upset. I love you. Both of you.”

Frank nodded, humming in acknowledgment, and you noted the way Matt’s jaw ticked. You knowingly squeezed his hand. Frank didn't believe he was worthy of anyone’s love, let alone Matty’s, and you and Matt both knew it. But it wasn’t the time or place for that conversation, and you had no doubt he would breach that topic of conversation later, when Frank’s guard wasn’t so high, and he was feeling comfortable and loved.

“Wanna get out of here?” Matt smiled, squeezing your hand.

“Lead the way, handsome.”

“Good. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

You snorted with laughter as Frank ran a hand down his face.

“That was the lamest thing you’ve ever said, Red. I’m embarrassed for you.”

“I’ll make it up to you later.” Matt smirked.

“You promise?” Frank dared, arching an eyebrow.

“Trust me, Frankie. I promise.”

Tag List:

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em-sars · 10 months

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My Top 10 (actually 9) Dramione Fic Reccemmendations:

I am not a terribly avid reader of angst-filled fics (sorry, Manacled fans). This list will be mostly romcom / fluffy, major slow burns, and Draco POV. I have included a few more serious fics, but they are just so well written / interesting, that they made my list. Without further ado, and in no particular order, my Top 9 Dramione Fics:

1. To one one's surprise, and not being overhyped at all (I'm completely serious), is Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love. This one needs no description due to its popularity, so I will only add to the hype. I have always been a fan of adventure-romance (e.g. Romancing the Stone, Princess Bride, Stardust, Love and Monsters, Shrek, A Knight's Tale, and, not to get repetitive, The Lost City), but this was the first fanfiction I read with such dedication to an interesting, funny, and, at times, suspenseful story. I also love seeing Draco fall first and his unreliable narration in Hermione's feelings for him. I adore the characterization of / relationships between characters (not just Draco and Hermione) as well as the way the author develops the existing magic system. It is definitely a slow burn with misunderstandings. I'm not a big fan of misunderstandings after they are together because I think it's lasy, and I will stop reading it. In this fic, however, the author makes sure that the 'will they won't they' isn't over done.

2. A Cosmology of Blacks, Malfoys, and Assorted Individuals. This one is in process, but updates are consistent, and I am hooked. Draco POV only. Not only does this fic have the best name, it also includes many anecdotes of Black history (particularly focused on Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix) while also tying in a romance plot. The story begins with Andromeda confronting Narcissa, and the Black family to be reunited. Draco meets Hermione again for the first time post-graduation, but something is wrong with Hermione's magic. They slowly become friends and Draco develops feelings. This one is on the angsty side, but it's nothing dark or war-based. It is decidedly cosy. I absolutely love any fic that casts a parallel between Andromeda and Ted and Draco and Hermione (I also love supportive Harry who compares them to his parents).

3. The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy. This is another popular one that deserves the hype. This one was outside my comfort zone as it is fairly heavy on the angst. BUT I think it is a really imaginative retelling of DH. If you are unfamiliar, the author rewrites the end of HBP wherein Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer of help. He is then forced to accept the protection of people who hate him and whom he hates. This is a true Enemies to Friends to Lovers story. It has a mixed POV. This story is full of mystery, suspense, plot twists, romance, and angst. This is another one that explores the magic system in an interesting way.

4. It Happened in Egypt is another romcom adventure fic. It is funny, mysterious, and action-packed. In this story, Hermione is in Egypt on a 'holiday' and runs into Draco who is drunk and has been robbed (no wallet or wand). As the author says, this fic is a love story to the Nile and Egyptian Mythology. Great for history lovers. And while this story is a relatively quick burn, there is still a major chunk of mutual pining.

5. Scary Partner Privilege is another in progress piece, but it is so creative. It is Draco POV. He and Hermione (a no-nonsense-to-the-point-of-rudeness cop) are paired as elite aurors. Each chapter is a different case like in Brooklyn 99 or other cop shows with the overall plot of their tumble into romance. This Hermione is a complete BAMF, and Draco is a darling.

6. Distance is a split POV fic. Hermione is a new Unspeakable and Draco is an auror who hasn't been given a real case. They end up teaming up to investigate a mysterious magical figurine. Another adventure fic set in the Indus Valley. Such a fun concept. Another one that is a good read for history lovers.

7. Lavender Scones and Second Chances is the final in progress story I have on this list. This story is mostly here for vibes (cosy) because the research that brought them together is more periphery than anything. But it is still a sweet story that I am excited to watch develop.

8. Love and Other Historical Accidents is Jane Austen meets Harry Potter. Hermione and Draco get sent back to the late Georgian / early Regency period in magical Wiltshire. Lots of classic Austen tropes and plot lines. It is an established dynamic between them, and Draco is already in love with Hermione.

9. Soft As It Began is a unique story wherein Harry vanished the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. Almost 5 years later, Hermione, with help from Draco (they are investigative journalists), travels around Europe looking for him. This story plays with the story of The Three Brothers and the Deathly Hallows. I just love all the characterizations in this fic.

#harry potter #fanfic #dramione #dmatmoobil #fic rec

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hussyknee · 9 months

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Speaking as a Sri Lankan whose country saw a general strike for the first time in forty years during the historic anti-government protests last year, I am so very excited for USAmericans to experience one for themselves. On one hand, it signals that the economic conditions are so dire that the majority of workers now have more to lose by going to work than not. That working conditions are impacting even the upper middle class. On the other hand– every. Single. Workers'. Union. In the. Damn. Country. The entire place a ghost town in a once-in-a-lifetime show of solidarity against the elite. You cannot imagine the exhilaration. You cannot imagine the show of power, the way the government and their crony capitalists and the fuckwits used to standing on people's necks piss their pants in fear. I think every country should see a general strike at least once every generation. It's not sustainable, but it doesn't have to be; it's to signal to the bosses that beyond this line is when the lid blows off this pressure cooker.

This means that shit is going to get damn ugly for weeks and months until the run up. It's going to primarily be a war of propaganda, because the bigger and more diverse the movement, the more cracks there will be between you to exploit. You're gonna have to get chill about a lot of things very quickly. You gotta get used to standing next to and holding the line with people you wouldn't want to spit on if they were on fire at any other time, with your eyes only on the prize. You're going to have to learn to support all kinds of problematic people without valorizing or demonizing them. Coalition building is political action at its most pragmatic and utilitarian; you don't need to share a moral page or be best buddies with people when pooling your resources against a common enemy. Idealogues don't win battles, coalitions do.

As for the success of our general strike, the President and his government rejected the unions' demands and refused to step down. Two weeks later, fifty houses of the government MPs all over the country burned down in one night, and a mob breeched the Prime Minister's mansions and set it on fire*. The PM resigned the next day, and the government was dissolved.

But that's a completely unrelated anecdote. 💅🏽

*Edit: it wasn't unions or any organized body that committed the arsons. It was widespread, spontaneous citizen reaction to a brutal attack on our largest peaceful protest site. Organized protest prevents this kind of escalation. The point is that when these attempts are not recognised, physical violence will be the inevitable outcome. As Martin Luther King said: "Riots are the language of the unheard".

#sri lanka protests #general strike #strike action #us politics #screen writers guild strike #screen actors guild strike #labour rights #workers rights #class war #capitalism #social justice #neoliberalism #propaganda #white liberals #white queers #culture wars #idpol #knee of huss

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city-of-ladies · 15 days

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Mongol women at work

"No records account for women specifically working on the postal roads as couriers, although Mongol women often had physically demanding jobs. Alongside elite women sometimes participating in hunting and warfare, women at all levels of society would herd animals and were in charge of packing up wagons to move camp.

Additionally, Yuan governmental policy assigned specific jobs required for the smooth running of the empire to households (for example, post-road couriers), which meant that if a man was not available to do a job (due to absence or death), women would be obliged to step into the role assigned to her family.

In the record Heida Shilüe 黑韃事畧 (A Sketch of the Black Tatars), the Song dynasty envoy Peng Daya’s 彭大雅 observations from a visit to the Mongol territories in 1233, expanded upon by Xu Ting’s 徐霆 (another Song envoy) record from 1235–1236, both men note that Mongol women did many tasks on horseback. Peng writes, “In horsemanship and archery, babies are tied with cords onto plats which then are fastened onto horses’ backs, so they can go about with their mothers”. Xu Ting elaborates on Peng’s observations with this anecdote:

I saw an old Tatar lady, when she had finished giving birth to a baby in the wilderness. She used sheep’s wool to wipe off the child, then used a sheepskin for swaddling clothes. Binding the baby up in a little cart, four or five feet long and one foot wide, the old lady thereupon tucked the cart crosswise under her arm and straightaway rode off on horseback.

This is a strange story—why would Xu Ting have been in a position to witness a woman giving birth? As his account of the Mongols highlights, the Mongol population that Xu Ting interacted with were post-road couriers during his travels within the empire and personnel at the Mongol court, and it is unlikely that he witnessed a woman giving birth and immediately riding off on her horse to take up courtly duties, so it is plausible that this was a woman he saw who was working along the postal road, filling in for an absent male relative. Therefore, while no specific accounts of women postal couriers exist, in reading between the lines of Xu Ting’s narrative, the possibility of women postal workers in the Yuan becomes more likely."

Riders in the Tomb: Women Equestrians in North Chinese Funerary Art (10th–14th Centuries), Eiren L. Shea

#history #women in history #women's history #mongol women #working women #13th century #mongolia #yuan dynasty #mongol history #historyblr #china #asia #asian history

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threadbaresweater · 8 months

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Making a Move

Your coworker, Nanami Kento, invites you to a charity gala, which means you have to cancel plans with your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo. As the evening progresses, you're increasingly aware that Nanami's feelings for you are a bit more friendly than you first realized

The details: 2.6k words, jealous and possessive Gojo, kissing, alcohol consumption, reader is female and can blush visibly; author knows very little about how the stock exchange works and has no idea if they would do any sort of charitable giving but it was a good backdrop for the story; it's a weird mishmash of characters in a non-canon (but maybe a little bit canon) universe, but just go with it 😂

You’ve never felt more beautiful in all your life.

The dress that Mei Mei helped you choose is the most glamorous thing you’ve ever worn. It’s black as midnight; the satin material shimmers in the soft glow of the lamps scattered throughout the ballroom, and hugs every dangerous curve of your body as if it were tailor made just for you. You’ve even splurged and paid to have your hair done: it’s swept into a romantic updo and secured with a pretty, jeweled clip that accentuates your dress.

Tonight, you are Nanami’s guest. An employee of the Tokyo Stock Exchange, a benefactor of tonight’s charity gala, you are here to rub shoulders with the elite, wealthy citizens of Tokyo and introduce yourself as the newest member of Nanami’s team. All evening you’ve been at his side, sipping politely from your crystal flute of expensive champagne and keeping up with the anecdotes and jokes like a pro. It’s no surprise that Nanami is smitten with your humor and quick wit. Mei Mei watches from a few feet away, nodding her approval as you talk finance, infrastructure and art with ease and intelligence.

Nanami knows that he’s lucky to have you– not only as his partner, but as his date for the evening. It was expected of you to attend when the invitation arrived, and though you initially had other plans, you quickly sent an apologetic text to Satoru that you’d have to reschedule due to a work obligation.

Satoru.

There’s a moment– an hour or so into the evening’s festivities– when you look around and feel a bit lost, a little out of sorts. You feel Nanami’s hand at the small of your back and hear him droning on about the latest human resources meeting, and your smile falters. With a polite nod to a woman whose name you’ve already forgotten, you drown your sudden insecurity in the rest of your champagne as a trickle of sweat slides down your spine and makes you shiver.

Nanami notices immediately, and the pressure on your back increases just enough to make you more aware of his presence. You feel each fingertip against your skin like a brand, and though you know he means it to be a soothing, grounding sort of gesture, it makes you flinch. “Are you feeling alright?” he asks.

You nod once, lifting your empty glass with your most false smile of the evening yet. “Yes, thanks. I just need a refill.”

One look at your flushed cheeks and Nanami shakes his head. “How about a glass of water instead?” he says. “Excuse us,” he offers– gentle and polite– to the group you’ve been chatting with, and guides you away toward the bar.

You’re embarrassed, but you allow yourself to be escorted, to be seated at one of the tall, leather stools and served a glass of mineral water. Nanami watches as you drink it all in one go, his brown eyes wide with wonder and the barest hint of concern. “I’m alright,” you reassure him. “I’m just hot. You’re probably right– it must be the champagne.”

“We can step outside if you need some fresh air,” he offers. You look in the direction he’s pointing and see a set of doors you hadn’t noticed before. Tall, constructed of what appears to be solid oak, they’re open to reveal a lavish courtyard full of lush blooms and rich foliage. You can almost feel the night air from where you’re sitting, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes.

“That sounds incredible,” you say. Nanami helps you down off the stool and links his arm with yours, leading you out through the grand doors.

As soon as the cool, evening breeze kisses your skin, you’re relaxed; your heartbeat slows, and you take a moment to drink in your surroundings. Music from inside floats on the air, and though it’s muted, you’re still able to make out the tune. You hum softly, stepping along the brick path while Nanami lingers near, a few steps behind to give you space...but making sure you don’t stumble.

He knows that you’re with Satoru; he’s known it for some time, but it doesn’t change the heartbreak that he felt when he first saw the two of you together. He’d wanted to confess his feelings for you that very afternoon, to try and figure out whether or not you felt the same. The advice Mei Mei had given him proved to be less than helpful, so he was ready to take matters into his own hands...that is, until he watched you and Satoru duck under the awning of a corner cafe for shelter from a sudden downpour. Nanami’s heart lurched as you stood on tiptoe– giggling and drenched– to smooth Satoru’s hair away from his face and kiss him sweetly upon the cheek. The love in your eyes told Nanami that he’d missed his chance to confess.

Now, though, he’s alone with you in the courtyard of this opulent country club. From a few feet behind you, he admires your figure in the dress you’ve chosen: the curve of your spine, the subtle sway of your hips with each step you take. He notices your hair– perfectly styled; your tasteful jewelry, the floral notes of your perfume when the breeze dances through. He thinks of how wonderful it has been to enjoy your company this evening and how you’ve managed to charm your way into the hearts of everyone who has been lucky enough to talk with you so far.

He thinks, perhaps, that he’d like to try again. To confess his attraction, away from the prying eyes of party guests and your boyfriend.

Your leisurely stroll comes to a stop in front of an ornate fountain. The lighting surrounding it is surreal, otherworldly; it reflects off the rippling water and hypnotizes you for a few moments. You stand and watch, blissfully unaware of the storm that’s raging through Nanami’s heart as he watches you. He, too, is hypnotized, but for entirely different reasons.

He says your name softly, and you don’t hear him at first. The sound of the water, the rustle of leaves, the ambient music from within...it’s enough to fill your senses; and when Nanami speaks, it’s almost as if you’re dreaming. Not until you feel his warm hand envelop yours do you hear him say your name more clearly.

“I need to tell you something,” he says. His eyes are like pools of warm honey, and there’s a wrinkle in his brow that’s new and a little concerning. He looks at you as if he’s seen a ghost, then suddenly stares into the fountain; his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

As he opens his mouth to speak, you hear your name again, though it’s not Nanami’s voice. He drops your hand and takes a couple of steps back, shaking his head. You laugh, though you aren’t sure what’s so funny, and you hear the voice again, closer this time.

“There you are!” Satoru. He’s either been running or walking rather briskly, because he’s breathing a little heavy when he stands before you. He touches your shoulder, then cups your cheek in his hand. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. Nanami throws him a puzzled look, and the two share a moment of incredible tension. You’re between them; your back is to Nanami, but you can feel the jealousy radiating from all around. In the silence that follows, only the trickle of the fountain can be heard, barely audible over the gallop of your heart.

“Late?” Nanami asks. “I didn't know you were invited.”

Nanami’s formal tone makes Satoru bristle. As if to assert his presence, he takes your hand– the same hand that Nanami held only a moment ago. It’s still warm from his touch. “I wasn't. But I couldn't miss the opportunity to see my baby all dolled up," he announces with a Cheshire grin. Even behind his blindfold, you feel his eyes appraising your figure. "Couldn't let her fend for herself around all these pompous pricks."

“Did you not trust that I would ensure her well-being?” Nanami quips. His voice is a little louder now, a tone you’ve only heard when he’s on the phone with a difficult client.

You turn to offer him a smile and touch his arm. Satoru squeezes your hand and gives you a not-so-subtle tug in his direction. “I’ve done very well for myself tonight, thank you very much,” you offer, bowing your head reverently. You giggle at yourself and at the two men who are vying for your attention, shooting invisible daggers at each other in the moonlight. “I’d like to think that I’ve impressed the right people and said all the right things.”

“You’re a natural charmer! I'm sure they're all in love with you now,” Satoru says. He’s closer now, and takes the opportunity to slip his arm around your waist. “That dress is incredible. Bet it looks even better when I–"

"Satoru, stop.”

He bends to kiss your shoulder and your face heats up. You throw a glance at Nanami, who looks away, embarrassed and angry at Satoru's crass behavior.

There’s another long pause– an awkward silence that Nanami fills with a rather loud clearing of his throat. Satoru grins at him and runs his hand through his hair while still holding you with his other hand.

“I think I’ll go back inside. You should think about doing the same." With a meaningful nod, his eyes fixed on you, Nanami steps around the two of you and heads back toward the main building.

“He’s right,” you say, taking a step in that same direction; but when Satoru's grip on your waist tightens, you gasp. He turns you so that you’re standing flush against his chest and lifts his blindfold away from his eyes, then cups your chin in his hand. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a firm hold...one that makes your heart skip a beat, especially when you see the way his eyes shine in the moonlight.

“Are you enjoying your evening?” he asks. His voice is a strained whisper; the emotion you hear there both frightens and thrills you at once. “Maybe I should have come a little sooner.”

His jealousy is palpable, and you want to laugh. Your lips quirk into a smile, but there’s a danger in Satoru’s eyes...and a possessiveness you’ve not yet experienced. “He's my coworker, Satoru. I’m here with him on business. It’s not a date.”

He isn’t convinced; that much is apparent when you’re suddenly pulled into a kiss that leaves you breathless and dizzy. One hand holds the nape of your neck and the other is planted firmly against your bare back as he bends you backward there in front of the fountain. He’s kissed you before– playful and sweet and tender, but never like this. When he takes a moment to breathe, he lifts you back upright, and his soft fingertips trace your bottom lip, pink and swollen from the onslaught of his greedy affection.

You draw a shaky breath and rest your hand on his chest to feel his heart racing, almost in time with yours. “Nanami is right. We should probably go inside now,” you say. “I really want to hear the final figures."

Upon entering the building once again, you’re a little disappointed to hear thunderous applause as the donations are announced. Satoru whispers an almost sincere apology close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. You suppose it doesn’t matter– the news will broadcast the results in the morning, anyway.

Afterward, the musicians reclaim the stage and dancing resumes. Satoru begins to lead you toward the center of the room when Nanami approaches, a placid smile upon his face. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’d like to ask for just one dance, if you don't mind.” You can see in his eyes that he wants to say more, but he holds his tongue; a gentleman, a professional, even in the face of the man who has claimed your affections before he had a chance.

Satoru’s move is to ask you. Those bright blue eyes dance across your face, and you notice the faintest hint of color just above his cheekbones. “Well, what do you think?” he asks through his teeth, as if it’s painful for him to even consider.

You shrug, enjoying the show, but trying to play it off as if you don’t notice what’s happening between the two of them. “Sure. Just one dance.” You squeeze Satoru's hand as reassurance and step forward as Nanami guides you into the sea of other dancers already enjoying the music.

Nanami is a skilled dancer. He is confident and poised, practiced steps leading you in a gentle waltz. Without missing a beat, he offers an apology. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things awkward for you tonight. It wasn’t my intention.”

You’re surprised at his admission, and when you look up into his face you find sincerity and a twinge of embarrassment. “Nanami, I– “ You pause, considering your words. “We’re here on business, right? There’s nothing to feel awkward about.”

He’s taken aback, because in his mind, this outing was supposed to be about more than just business. Now, with Satoru watching your every move from the sidelines, it’s clear that things don’t always turn out the way they’re intended to. As Nanami twirls you, you’re surprised when you see Satoru approach Mei Mei and offer a hand and a subtle bow. Always gracious and composed, she offers an elegant hand to be kissed upon the knuckles and pulled into an easy waltz.

You suddenly understand Satoru's jealousy, and your breath catches in your throat. Nanami seizes an opportunity to pull you in a little closer, and the two of you somehow end up dancing your way toward the other couple.

“You’re radiant tonight,” Nanami leans to whisper, just before handing you off to Satoru, whose familiar hand at your hip has you breathing a little easier as soon as he spins you away. Nanami holds Mei Mei in his arms now, and the two of them smile knowingly at you as the musicians transition into another, slower song.

There, surrounded by all the other guests, Satoru holds you so close that all you can see are his eyes, sparkling as the lights are lowered and the romantic music sweeps away any insecurities you might have had. The champagne has long worn off, but you’re still buzzed, feeling giddy and bubbly and warm in his arms. “I don’t think you understand just how much you mean to me,” he says, and his voice is laden with so much sincerity you want to weep. As flippant and playful as he sometimes is with you, there are times when his intensity brings you to your knees.

“But, Satoru–”

“Shhh.” He presses one, long finger against your lips and shakes his head. “Nanami has feelings for you. Don't you see it?” When he sees how your eyes grow large with this new knowledge, he smiles tenderly. “Oh, babe. Do you get it now? I had to come, to save you." He laughs, and the music plays a bit softer now, but the implications of his words still ring loud.

You turn to see Nanami standing with a group of colleagues, enjoying a quiet conversation. When he sees you, he stops talking and gives you a small, subtle nod, then raises the glass of champagne in his hand as if to toast to your happiness.

“I wouldn’t– he’s my coworker, Satoru. I couldn’t even consider dating him.” You stroke his cheek, and he comes alive again, curling his fingers around your wrist to hold you against him. “Not when I have you.”

The way you kiss him then has Mei Mei looking away in embarrassment, hiding her knowing smile behind her hand.

#nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #gojo × reader #satoru gojo x you

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fuckmeyer · 3 months

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Do you think the Volturi would ever get desperate enough to make their own newborn army to continue being in power?

yes, but actually no

Yes

the Guide says they overthrew the Romanians by "launching a successful war." really, they just convinced a bunch of vamps to go to war for them for 100+ years on the premise that it was mutually beneficial for everyone to follow certain laws.

here's the thing. the tactic of newborn armies didn't exist until Benito tried to pull it off in the 1800s. end result: the Volturi came in full force & exterminated the newborns. this lil anecdote in vampire history tells us that 1) while the Volturi have gone to war, they have not experimented with newborn armies. & 2) when faced with a challenge to their doctrine, they do attack.

fast-forward like 200 years. in Second Short Life of Bree Tanner, they threaten to punish Victoria for creating a newborn army but give her the chance to destroy the Cullen clan first. it seems, given the right adversary, the Volturi are willing to bend their rules...

they have a history of starting wars, combat, & breaking their rules.

But actually no

their whole shtick is noninterference & secrecy. they've gained power through soft diplomacy & quiet hard diplomacy. (amassing an arsenal of talented vamps, spreading their doctrine, solidifying their reputation etc). potential problems are resolved quickly & discreetly. a newborn army is the antithesis of their mission & their strategy. bottom line, they would lose a lot of power & credibility by openly flouting their own philosophy.

"ok but 'yes, but actually no' is a non-answer"

NO, the Volturi would not get desperate enough to create a newborn army. they would prefer an elite, highly trained team of talented statesmen & gifted vampires over a hoard of volatile newborns. under the right conditions, however, they might wage a proxy war.

imo, they would be at their "most desperate" when they lose everything: the guard, the coven, & the reputation. even then, i don't think they would resort to outright creating a newborn army.

from the Guide: "Aro called his soldiers “the Volturi guard,” making it clear that they were subservient to the actual coven of five." there are 9 permanent members of the guard & more transitory members, all of which he views as his "collection." "Ambition was [the coven's] bonding element. [...] Rank in the guard is decided by power."

there's already tension among the guard fighting for their rank within the system (or to be a permanent member).

post-Breaking Dawn, the Volturi's reputation has taken a hit. covens have lost faith in their ability to lead. morale is down in the guard; perhaps some transitory members take a hike. the Volturi already rely heavily on vampires who modify relationships & mental states i.e. Chelsea, Corin, Marcus. they're all in this stupid club for ambition & power's sake; imagine one of them is dissatisfied with the Volturi's loosening grip on power? imagine the Volturi must quash an exodus in their guard, leading them into a vicious cycle of lost trust & draconian measures? imagine the guard fights with itself as some begin to turn on the Volturi...?

if the core Volturi coven don't have their guard, what do they have? a telepath (Aro), a relationship identifier (Marcus), regular-ass Caius, & two regular-ass wives who don't even want to be there. in addition, they have their reputation & their abilities as statesmen. that's it.

[consider this: "If a vampire remains unmoving often enough over thousands of years, dust begins to petrify in response to the venom-like liquids that lubricate his eyes and skin." Bella notices this milky film over their eyes. she also doesn't notice any vampire scars. it's probable the kings have seen little to no combat in centuries, if ever.]

if the guard turns on them, & they've lost reputation with the other covens, what would they do? the wives might dip bc being stuck at home for hundreds of years kinda soured them on the whole "being married" shit. Marcus would ask for death lmao. that leaves Aro & Caius. (possibly Jane/Alec/& other loyal guards.) considering the guards' experience w/ newborn armies, really the only way out of this is negotiating the kings' freedom. openly creating their own newborn army would permanently destroy their reputation, & their ties with other covens will become their greatest asset when the guard turns.

tl;dr worst case scenario, in response to an existential threat i see them saving their own hides & fucking off into obscurity while they figure out their next moves (which would largely involve diplomacy, rebuilding their "collection," & proxy wars).

#the volturi #twilight renaissance #the twilight saga #volturi #breaking dawn #twilight meta

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tanadrin · 4 months

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re: empathy I agree with tanadrin. source: relatively low-empathy autist who's put a lot of effort into my moral / ethical heurestics and have observed that a lot of the allistics who identify most strongly as "nice" (and frequently are very warm!) will not listen to new information if they're not on-boarded by anecdotes that make them intuitively relate to a single "victim". the science I've read re: inborn empathy (+ experience) also supports that it /tends/ towards tribalism

Unfortunately you can’t even try to build heuristics to safeguard a limited-empathy worldview turning sour. “Well, we should always/only have empathy for the oppressed” turns into finding elaborate justifications for why your preferred group is oppressed, even if they’re the majority in every elite and government institution.

The only solution I know of to stamp out that kind of manipulative bullshit is to grant the fundamental humanity and dignity of everyone on Earth without exception.

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kumazone · 6 months

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EARTH - Bram Uluru

Bram is an archeologist and anthropologist who specializes in uncovering pre-immortality civilizations. He once fought alongside King and his comrades in their raids against the Apotheosis Plutocracy, spurred on by this desire to protect their peoples' history from the government's censorship. After the event that devastated the original resistance group, Bram discovered a powerful artifact that could turn the tides. Together with Guillermo, the two picked up the pieces and formed Abzu.

His leadership style is bold. Although the government marks them as terrorists, he strives for Abzu to be seen as heroes for the people. To this end, he has Abzu take in those with nowhere else to go, and right injustices left long unaddressed. He strives to protect the peace where it can be protected and empower those that are disregarded by the elites. Though he still holds some anxieties from his past failures, he pushes through, striving to see the just world he and King once fought for.

While he can be harsh, stern, and at times intimidating, he shows a fatherly kindness to anyone he considers an ally to the cause. He goes out of his way to make sure everyone's needs are met. He has a bad habit of doling out long, rambling advice in the form of historical and mythological anecdotes completely unprompted. While this habit can be annoying to the other members of Abzu, his advice is always good.

Bram always believes that actions speak louder than words - which is especially poignant, given how loud his words can be. He won't ever accept the idea that "nothing can be done" when there's injustice to be resolved. Because of this, he tends to clash with pessimists like King and RJ. Despite how these arguments go, his frustrations only lead him to try harder to reach out to them. Bram insists on reassuring them, trying to push them to fight harder to achieve what they want. He simply cannot abide quitters after all.

Bram is always living his life to the fullest, and encourages others to do the same.

Soul Weapon: Greathammer "Mountain Buster"

A huge, heavy warhammer. Stones rise around impact spots when he swings it at the ground

#Xmera project #Xmera lore #KumaZone art

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runwayrunway · 9 months

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No. 40 - Southwest Airlines

One of my most requested posts, it's time to cover a carrier anyone who's flown in the US is probably very familiar with. After all, Southwest has for decades been the largest low-cost carrier in the world by both revenue and fleet size (though IndiGo is coming for that title).

Southwest's history is longer and more substantial than many may think, a central figure in the genesis of what we now know as the low-cost carrier. But one thing I think a lot of people know is their livery.

A common theme on this blog is trends in airline liveries - in particular, the modern trend towards the minimalist, sterile, underdesigned, and above all generic. As an anecdotal example, someone who lives near Boston's Logan Airport, the 16th-busiest airport in the US and 30th-busiest in the world, served by every major US airline and every major international carrier from countries within 787 range, were they to watch the takeoffs and landings, would be treated to the following...menagerie.

Can you believe these planes fly for different and indeed unrelated airlines?

Safe to say from 5,000 feet below it's a challenge to tell these planes apart. Even taxiing past them you'd need to pay attention. If I forced someone to squint I'm not sure they could identify them properly. How about Southwest?

Bam.

Southwest Airlines was founded in an era that borders on incomprehensible to those of my age bracket. The United States is a nation united in grumbling about Spirit Airlines, and most of Europe is constantly cursing Ryanair under their breath, but it wasn't always like that. The fact of a united enemy at all is new in the US. Back before the 1978 Deregulation Act, it was so prohibitively expensive to operate interstate flights that most airlines just didn't. Interstate flights were left to giant full-service airlines like Delta and Eastern, while international flights were the domain of an even more elite few - Pan Am, TWA, Braniff, and National (no, not that National, the other one) while the scrappier little companies flew short hops for commuters.

One airline which emerged in this pre-deregulation era was Pacific Southwest Airlines, commonly abbreviated to PSA, an initially tiny airline operating in California. You may recognize them from my icon! PSA is one of the single most important airlines in history because it all but invented the idea of the low-cost carrier. Beyond that, they were a Fun Airline. And while they were flying their grinningbirds all over California something else brewed in the background.

image: SouthwestArchive I have never before in my life seen such a profound pairing of undereye bags with the slicked-back hair and piercing blue eyes of a YA dystopia novel film adaptation villain, darting around to lock onto any sources of potential wealth ripe for acquisition.

In 1971 Southwest Airlines began operating flights. The company was actually incorporated in 1967 (as Air Southwest), the brainchild of then-lawyer Herb Kelleher (and two other people who nobody ever talks about because they're boring). They saw what PSA was doing and saw potential for the massive profits that could be gained from avoiding fees from operating interstate and charging drastically lower fees than the larger carriers. Unfortunately for them the larger carriers also realized this, and they were trapped for three years in lawsuit purgatory, with Braniff, Continental, and Trans-Texas Airways taking the case all the way to the Supreme Court, who apparently declined to review it, recognizing that 'they have come up with an idea that will make them make more money and us make less money' is not a particularly powerful legal argument.

And with that little hurdle over Southwest was open for business! Though they weren't quite starting out as a single rented DC-3 Kelleher very closely modeled the airline after PSA, who seemed to be okay enough with it if them helping to train mechanics at the nascent airline was any indication. After all, at this point they were both intrastate airlines fundamentally unable to compete with each other - Southwest was staying put in Texas with no reason to think this would change anytime soon. They brought a bit of PSA to the state, like the low fares and the stewardesses in hot pants and go-go boots.

So what was their answer to the grinningbird?

The rare and deeply cursed Southwest 727.

The mustard rocket. It was called "desert gold" but I think we all know that this is mustard. At this point in history brightly colored airplanes weren't even unusual either, so it would have just been regular ugly instead of ostentatious. (I mean...I like this shade of mustard yellow, honest, but I recognize that most people think this is hideous.)

Southwest kept on Southwesting from there. These days, they're massive, and the most common response on my questionnaire for best airline experiences. No comment, as I've never flown with them. Highlights of their journey there include getting a federal amendment passed because they didn't want to relocate their hub from Love Field to Dallas-Fort Worth, getting sued for only hiring female flight attendants, having the first Black chief pilot of any major airline in the US, technically legal tax evasion measures, having to invent elaborate work-arounds for the restrictions placed on them which could have been avoided by just relocating to Fort Worth, absorbing a bunch of other airlines, being the launch customer for both the -300 and MAX 8 models of the Boeing 737, and making approximately a zillion dollars. In 1990 they absorbed Morris Air, a vacation charter airline which developed innovative cost-cutting measures like e-ticketing, including high-up positions on the Southwest corporate ladder for the founders...

image: conde nast traveller Strange millionaires lurking in woods distributing model airplanes is no basis for an airline industry! ...scratch that, it does appear to be working.

...oh, for heaven's sake, there he is again. Yes, David Neeleman's cost-cutting acumen was indeed put to use at Southwest, meaning that between this and founding jetBlue he basically created low-cost carriers. I reluctantly tip my hat to the man. I would not be able to afford airline tickets without him. But he's just everywhere.

Here is my handwritten faMintly tree. Southwest is jetBlue's cousin once removed, do with that what you will. Anyway, let's hope I never have to add to this. (Not least because I already binned the piece of paper I wrote this out on.)

The turn of the century brought new things for Southwest! In 2000 they had their first major accident (a nonfatal runway overrun resulting in loss of the aircraft). Unrelatedly, in 2001 they released a new color scheme for their fleet, now several hundred strong and entirely composed of assorted models of Boeing 737.

The era of Canyon Blue had begun.

I mean, it's a statement. At this point a plane painted to look like a poisonous frog was in fact a pretty major statement. They were setting out to be an eyesore and I'm sure people were upset about this one, but to the modern eye it looks muted and unfinished. Still bluer than anything David Neeleman had made at that point, but not quite what we know today.

Okay. Yes. There we go.

This livery is meant to be the heart from their logo, the same one worn where the plane's heart might be if planes had hearts instead of air-conditioning systems, the colors unwrapped and deconstructed. And boy, is it almost violently colorful! It goes so far that it takes a minute to notice only three colors, plus white, are used in the entire livery. It's almost eyestraining, and I did have to turn the contrast down on my monitor while writing this because I'm fairly photosensitive. It's...less painful when pixels aren't involved.

So this is definitely one-of-a-kind. Well, it was. jetBlue has made choices recently. But this livery is definitely not one that gets lost in the crowd.

There's very little white or even silver on this airframe, in sharp contrast with...basically every airline. The rest of the livery is vivid and searing yellow and red, unusual shades in airlines, which tend to stick to slightly more muted schemes. And if you couldn't tell who they were by that, the big white billboard wordmark would let you know real quick. I think the white is a bit less legible than I'd like, but I'm not sure how to improve that without making it genuinely eyestrainy. At least it's large and visible, which is crucial for a low-cost carrier, instead of subtle and out of the way on the tail. That might work for an airline with a prestigious air, but that's not Southwest. Southwest is blue and yellow and red.

The main differences between the modern livery and Canyon Blue are in the placement of the logo and the colors used. Each shade is brightened significantly, which is why the once-garish Canyon Blue now looks pretty dusty in comparison. They entirely removed the blue from the tail, making it the airframe feel a little less like it's blue with accents and a little more like it's a circus tent. I do wish the yellow and red covered a bit more of the belly, but still...wow.

Some uses of Southwest Sans demonstrated.

The success of this design isn't by accident. Apparently, Southwest consulted no fewer than five design firms, and the font used for the livery and all their material (which I think looks totally fine) was actually commissioned from iconic foundry Monotype. A lot of airline liveries are designed in-house, and that can turn out fine, but Southwest clearly pulled out all the stops and it shows.

Southwest is a low-cost carrier, and this does affect the standards by which I judge their livery. They aren't here to be guided by legacy or decorum the way a flag carrier is - they're here to sell you a cheap ticket on an airline with funny cabin announcements. Circus tent with big lettering in a sea of Eurowhite? Nice, clean execution - I'd call that a job well done.

Grade: B

#tarmac fashion week #era: 2010s #era: 2020s #grade: b #region: north america #region: united states #low cost carriers #requests #southwest airlines #neelemanverse

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