#HE JUST DOESN'T SEEM LIKE YOUR KIND OF GUY!!!

[beloveds-embrace]

Fuck it, we ball, I hope that disrespectful anon gets hemorrhoids and they can't get them removed until next year, AND that their insurance doesn't cover it. I'm here thinking about your Omega idea where omegas normally do the pursuing, but with a slight twist; the boys being the omegas. An alpha who is for sure down bad for the boys, but thinks "ah, theyre out of my league, I should be aiming lower, manage my expectations". Only 141 is just as down bad for them, and they're doing everything just short of screaming "PICK UP ON THE HINTS, COME INTO OUR HOUSE AND BEDS AND LIVES AND STAY FOREVER PLEASE"

Johnny is about to say fuck decorum and just show up in reader's house wearing nothing but a ribbon and a tag that says 'free to a good home' (your home is the good one, please keep him, there is no receipt so you can't return him).

Price has the brain cell normally in terms of trying to gently coax you into getting you to say you're into them, he has a 15 step plan that may or may not involve using his various contacts to get you spending more time in close proximity to them. Also he for some reason is always baking, he always comes over asking you for sugar? (He'll take any kind of 'sugar' you're willing to offer, he loves making a variety of cream pies)

Gaz is always gently inviting them to attend 'friend' things, things that could be a date but that he can excuse as 'well we're coworkers/friends/neighbors, we should get along :)'. It's just a coincidence that various other people seem to bail except for any of the other boys, now why don't you sit beside him so you guys can share popcorn at the movies (you both always seem to be reaching for it at the same time, if your fingers touched anymore you might as well be holding hands)

Simon is chasing off any omegas he thinks are a threat to them getting reader, that is THEIR alpha, paws OFF (rip to anyone reader was halfheartedly going on dates with, this man is gonna become those people's sleep paralysis demon)

Hope you enjoy!! :3 💕💕 i lovedddd writing this sm omg

See, the thing is, you’d always thought of yourself as a decent Alpha. Not overbearing, not egotistical, not a demanding freak- just capable and steady. But you weren’t extraordinary. Not the kind of Alpha Omegas like them would look at twice. And so, while you worked alongside the men of Task Force 141 you convinced yourself to be content with just admiring them from a distance.

You couldn’t help it. They were perfect, as far as you were concerned. Perfect, and fully out of your league.

Surely, Omegas like them would want someone better. Someone stronger. You’d told yourself that so many times it was practically your mantra, the only way you’d be able to stop yourself from pursuing them. They deserved someone more charismatic, more confident- an Alpha who could match their brilliance. Not someone like you, fumbling through conversations with them, struggling to keep your feelings in check.

But they’d already decided. They didn’t need a flashy Alpha or someone who tried too hard. What they wanted was you. The only problem? You didn’t seem to realize it, no matter how obvious they made it.

John took the lead, naturally. He knew you were cautious and perhaps a little insecure when it came to relationships (it was fucking visible in you, silly Alpha. He scoffs each time you draw back, frustrated), so he made it his mission to draw you in- slowly and subtly. His plan was meticulous: get you comfortable, build trust, and create opportunities for you to spend more time with them so you’d see that they only want you.

Maybe then you’d break out of that stupid shell you’ve put yourself in.

He’d started baking regularly, a habit you hadn’t even known he had. At least once a week, he’d show up at your place with a tin of cookies, a loaf of fresh bread, or a perfectly golden pie. “Thought I’d share,” he’d say casually, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips told a different story. He peers at you, letting his scent coil just a bit more. “I hope you don’t mind the amount of cream. I happen to like cream pies a lot.”

The way to an Alpha’s heart is through their stomach, and all that.

If he wasn’t offering you baked goods, he was asking for your help to make said baked goods. “Ran out of sugar again,” he’d sigh, handing you an empty container. “Mind sparing a bit?”

It was ridiculous, downright unbelievable how often he supposedly ran out of baking supplies. But his visits became a highlight of your week, and the lingering looks he gave you left your heart pounding long after he was gone.

The one time he’d handfed you, watching you lick the syrup from his fingers with half-lidded eyes, still lives in your mind rent-free.

Kyle took a softer, more personal approach. He wasn’t above using the pretense of friendship to spend time with you, often inviting you to casual dates- grabbing coffee, going to the movies, or just walking through town and shopping. Every invitation was framed innocently, but there was always a little extra effort behind it. He’d pick a movie he knew you’d like, suggest places he knew you’d find interesting, and ensure that others you unfortunately knew joined just enough to make it seem less like a date.

Somehow, though, those other people always mysteriously canceled. It was never anything dramatic- just a sudden cold, a scheduling conflict, or a “something came up, sorry.” Eventually, it would be just you and a very smug Kyle, sitting close enough that your knees brushed or reaching for popcorn at the same time. Once, right as the bowl emptied and you both reached for it, Kyle simply thought fuck it and held your hand.

On one occasion, you both shared a bowl of spaghetti and ended up with the scene from the Lady and the Tramp.

It was so painfully obvious to everyone.

Except you.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Kyle muttered to Johnny one evening after you left, both of them sitting in the spot you were in, bathing in the leftover warmth and scent. “How can they not notice?”

Speaking of Johnny; he’s barely keeping himself together. Subtlety in missions are a must sometimes, but he doesn’t want to that with you anymore. He was just so, so, so frustrated with your obliviousness. What more does he need to do to show you that he- that they- want you?

He’s been dropping so many hints; half-jokes about Omegas waiting begging to be swept off their feet, suggestive winks when you compliment him in that lovely, adoring tone of yours. Once, while watching a romantic tv show, he’d sighed loudly and very pointedly said: “If only someone would claim me.”

“If ye don’t figure it out soon,” he growled at the others one night, pacing back and forth like a wild beast and probably on his way to leave a dent in the carpet, “I’m showin’ up at their doorstep with nothin’ but a red bow, like some bloody Christmas prezzie, I swear to god.”

John sighs, rolling his eyes. “You do that, and I’m leaving you on their porch.”

“That’s exactly what I’m askin’ for!”

Simon took the quietest but most direct approach. Just not exactly direct towards you. While the others worked to get closer to you, Simon focused on eliminating what he saw as obstacles: other Omegas who thought you were free for the taking. It didn’t matter if they were serious or just someone you’d gone on a casual date with- Simon saw them all as threats.

He didn’t have to say much to scare them off. A single cold glare from across the room, sharp bursts of his scent, or a low, menacing comment was usually enough to send them packing. He didn’t care if it was excessive.

You were his Alpha. You were their Alpha, and no one else had a right to you.

But even Simon softened when it came to you. He couldn’t put all his thoughts, all his feelings into words, so he did them with his actions. Quiet protectiveness, gentle, careful touches. Moments of fleeting vulnerabilities shared between you and him.

He was always there for you. Even if you didn’t know you need him with you.

Still, despite all their efforts, you remained convinced that they weren’t interested.

In the end, to no one’s surprise, it’s Johnny who snaps. Johnny, so close to his heat, so absolutely done with your obliviousness and the Omegas that aren’t them talking with you when you should be only focused on them.

He doesn’t care; leaves the carefully made nest with your stolen shirts and none of the others stop him when he just. Drags your surprised self to the nest.

“Johnny! You-“

“I want you.” He hisses, bares his teeth all sharp and desperate. “We want you. And damn it, we will have you.”

And well, who are you to even say no when this is all you have wanted?

[419jhat]

Eddie's lagging behind his friends at comicon, lazily taking in a particularly cool d20 being sold in the artist alley when he spots her. Seated in a chair, looking bored as fuck while she scrolls on her phone, was the most beautiful Blossom he's ever laid his eyes on. She wasn't wearing the usual outfit. She'd switched it out for something preppy and modern- a pleated pink skirt swishing around her thighs, cute white socks, and a sweater vest that shows off how much she goes to the gym. She looks like she would've called him a freak in high school, but in a sexy way, which is a thought that he doesn't want to reflect on without his therapist present.

"You gonna shoot your shot?" Gareth asks.

Eddie feels like he's been caught.

"I don't know, maybe I will," he says with a shrug.

"She's out of your league, friend. She looks like she'd step on you."

"I know," Eddie sighs.

Gareth looks incredibly unimpressed . "Ugh. Go. Before I leave you standing here like an idiot and she notices you staring. Which you're doing a lot, by the way."

He finishes with a shove right between Eddie's shoulder blades, forcing him to stumble toward Ms. Blossom in a way that catches her attention. And then he has to walk up to her, because he's looking at her and she's looking at him, and neither of them are looking away and it's becoming a whole thing. He walks toward her slowly, because he can't think of what to say, and the way she's playing with her wig is really distracting and cute.

"Uh. Waiting for a Rowdy Ruff Boy?" he jokes awkwardly. Blossom's face morph into pure disgust and Eddie wants to melt into the floor.

"Seriously bro?" she asks with a shockingly deep voice.

Before Eddie can make his brain snap together a response, the other Power Puff Girls are running up to them.

"Steve! I hope you didn't wait long, Chris wanted to get one of those- oh. Hello," Buttercup says, when she notices him. Bubbles' blonde hair is very real, and very cute pulled into pigtails. Buttercup seems to have just dyed hers black for the occasion.

"Hi," Eddie says lamely. He waves at them, for some reason.

Buttercup gasps. "Are you hitting on him? We can leave and come back. Come on, babe," she says, grabbing Buttercup's hand.

"Don't fuck this up!" Bubbles says as she's pulled away.

"Oh my god, ignore them. What did you say?" Steve, apparently, asks. Eddie wants to crawl in a hole and die. He can just feel Gareth laughing behind him.

"It's was a joke. You know, the Rowdy Rough Boys?" Steve doesn't seem to know, so he adds, "the evil boy version of the Power Puff Girls?"

Steve looks down at his clothes as some kind of recognition dawns on his face. "Oh! Shit dude, I haven't seen the show. Rob and her girlfriend just really needed a Blossom."

This is usually the point Eddie would tease Steve about being a poser, but he looks so sincere (and his biceps are so distracting) that his game is totally out of shape. A guy who would don a skirt for his friends? A man after his own heart! He half wants to make up an excuse and leave to save himself from further shame, but he's too enticed by the cute moles on Steve's jaw that he lets himself suffer a little longer.

Steve looks him up and down and asks, "so what are you supposed to be?"

Eddie looks down at his ripped jeans and says, "...me."

He's internally kicking himself for leaving his own outfit in the hotel room.

Steve smiles up at him in a way that shows off his makeup. "Well it's working for you. You know when you first came up to me I thought you were asking me if I wanted to get rough with you."

Eddie laughs awkwardly, cheeks burning, because bombing an interaction this badly is exactly the kind of thing the universe would demand of him. Steve just stares at him. Eddie stares back awkwardly, wondering what he's supposed to even say. He can see Buttercup and Bubbles a few feet away, mouthing something at him combined with a collection of hand gestures he doesn't really understand. Steve sighs. Then he flicks the wig in a way that's kind of flirty and says, "that was an invitation, dude. You gonna take it or sit there and keep staring at my tits?"

And Eddie does take the invitation, thank you very much.

[is-it-cute-gf-au-edition]

Hey, thanks for calling my blog "otherwise good content" when most of my stuff is focused on Ford Pines. Seems kinda like a backhanded compliment, but maybe you're just rude IRL. I'm an understanding person.

Anyway, who are you to decide what is and isn't cute? I, personally, think Ford Pines is ADORABLE! I mean, look at him!!! Someone sent me this picture of him with his head stuck in a trash can! TELL ME that isn't some America's Funniest Home Videos (pet category) shit.

Also, apparently, the other guy in the picture punched the person who took the photo? IDK who he is, but he looks like Ford, so maybe Cipher made a clone? Clone's less cute, though. Explain that with your fucking rating system

Hi,

Okay, I'm going to clear a few things up for my followers.

First of all: I really don't want to come off as passive aggressive. That's not what I'm about, and as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't help anyone to be anything but completely up front when you're on the internet.

I'm sorry if my comment seemed backhanded. I started following Jellyskink back when she mostly posted OC character designs, when I was in a hardcore comics and graphic design phase. I haven't kept up with the blog regularly since. I am truly sorry for misrepresenting you here. (I really, truly am a fan of your work.)

With that said, I am not going to be passive aggressive about this. I'm being explicit: THE FORD PINES REPOSTS ARE NOT OKAY. How do I even begin to explain that you're reposting videos of a grown human man being treated as a pet, and not even well?

I rate content based on whether the pets in them are actually displaying "cute" behavior (playful, friendly, well-trained, healthy) or if they're showing signs of distress and mistreatment. That's my rating system. The fact that people want me to "rate" an adult human man when it is, again, against interdimensional law to treat sophonts as pets/livestock and humans are a sophont species, is already kind of weird.

But, hey. I'm willing to play along. I'm a good sport. If they're pet videos, I'll check to make sure that the pet isn't showing signs of distress or abuse!

Except he definitely is.

Jellyskink, let's just give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you're just really bad at reading the room. I'm telling you now: Ford Pines is in obvious distress in practically all of these video clips. I don't think you care. I think you're a Cipher Loyalist and thinks the dorito can just treat Ford however he wants because he's a god. But if you're not, prove it: stop posting exploitative Ford Pines videos. They aren't even your flapping videos, you're reposting them. Go back to making cheesy OC Do Not Steal art. That contributed to the world.

Now, about the picture, since you asked:

RATING: NOT CUTE.

This is a guy who got assaulted with a trash can!! Even if this wasn't a human I'd be rating this not cute! It's horrible! And you know what else makes it not cute? You know how I always give things a bad rating when the handler or the person taking the video isn't being safe with it? Well, the guy taking the picture is 100% about to get assaulted. You know why?

THAT IS STANLEY PINES. Is he Ford's clone? I don't know - how do you count identical twins? Cipher didn't make him, they're brothers. You can literally look it up. How are you a so-called Ford Pines fan and you don't even know who Stanley Pines is? He's the sole proprietor of the anomaly distributor Pines Profundities. It's public record. He's in the New York business registry.

So, yeah. The guy taking the picture of a grown man stuck in a garbage can was being pretty stupid and is about to get punched by the man's brother, because that's what happens when you're a jerk to random strangers in New York.

[ssentimentals]

hii!! been loving your posts!! can i pls request suggestive prompts 2 and 30 for mingyu!! you are holding this entire app on your back rn! 🙌🙌🙌

hiiii! ahhh this is too kind, i'm gonna cry :(( thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'can i sit in your lap?' - 'hold still.'

you grimace at the sheer amount of people around - going out on a friday night is never a good idea for someone who is not a fan of crowds, but birthday parties cannot be missed and soon you find yourself squeezed between all your friends and bunch of strangers, sweaty bodies pressed one to another.

'shit, sorry i am late, guys!' mingyu bursts into the circle, quickly going to give a hug to the birthday boy. he then instantly finds you, enveloping you in a big hug: 'hi, baby. sorry i couldn't pick you up. work is crazy.'

'it's okay,' you assure him, breathing normally for the first time during the night once he wraps his arms around you. 'glad you made it.'

'of course,' mingyu leans back and places gentle kiss on your cheek. 'i promised you i would.' he looks in your eyes, frowning. 'you okay so far?'

it's sweet and you want to reassure that you're fine but honestly, you're not. in hopes to avoid brushing strangers constantly and being more in his space, you whisper into his ear: 'can i sit in your lap?'

mingyu looks surprised but eagerly complies, pulling your back to his chest as soon as you're done. 'that's your place, baby,' he brushes his lips over your neck. 'you can always sit here, no permission needed.'

you ignore his words, blushing. thank god it's dark inside and no one notices; everyone is too busy with taking shots and celebrating birthday boy anyways. you slowly relax, feeling safe in mingyu's arms; soon you're enjoying the music and forget about uneasiness you felt before. you don't even notice that you're moving, managing to somehow move to the rhythm whilst sitting on mingyu's lap until he doesn't grip your hips with a low: 'hold still, pretty. you're making it a bit hard for me.'

understanding downs on you as he shifts and you feel the reason for his request, semi-hard. you bite your lap, unsure. part of you wants to continue teasing him but another part is eager for you two to leave. in the end it's not you who suggests that; mingyu lets you lean fully on him and whispers into ear, tracing swirly patterns on your thighs: 'i think if you and i leave right now no one will notice. everyone is drunk.' you shift to get more comfortable and he lowly groans: 'fucking- is that your way of agreeing?'

you blush, giggling quietly. 'sorry, it wasn't intentional, i swear.'

'i don't believe you.' mingyu places small kiss on your temple. 'let's go baby, please. hm?'

you glance at your surroundings and yeah, mingyu's right, no one would bat an eye if you two just left now; his idea seems to be appealing enough. you turn to him, catching his eyes - he's watching you with silent desperation, eyes hungry for more. 'yeah,' you breath out, noticing hitch in his breath. 'let's go home.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[serialkilluh1996]

MY ☆𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆☆ HEADCANONS

SFW; no ratings or warnings, not proofread

SWEETHEART, NO HEART OR MIDDLE?

Is König the emotional type?

In my opinion? He's not a bubbly sweetheart, but he is FAR from a no heart.

He's not all lovey dovey on the surface. He doesn't like small talk. He doesn't like seeing people he recognizes in public, and he doesn't like confrontation.

König doesn't have the "uwu im so shy" social anxiety. He has the "it physically pains me when I have to speak someone and it causes violent intrusive thoughts" social anxiety. He never acts on it, of course, but social interaction makes him sick. There's a select few people he actually enjoys speaking with, and you are number one on that roster.

You'll start to notice he gets more talkative after a few weeks of knowing you, and he's more open to meaningless conversations because no conversation with you is meaningless to him. He actually enjoys when you ask him stupid questions.

CLASSY OR MESSY?

Is this guy willing to get his hands dirty?

He's naturally classy. He won't go out of his way to be messy, but he's no pretty boy either. He doesn't like mud on his boots or dirt under his fingernails. He's a very precise man. But he can get behind it every now and then.

I think he'd enjoy going on long walks in the woods to give his legs a good stretch. I don't think he'd mind spending a few hours disconnected from the rest of the world, somewhere out near the mountains. But anything further, such as hunting, you'd have to convince him to do, which doesn't take much work either. And he loves rough housing with you.

König likes tussling and tumbling in the bed like puppies til one of you eventually gets tired. You usually give in first, as he has seemingly endless stamina, but God, does it take long. He loves how long it takes for you to give up. Resistance means he's got a challenge, and you're the only one who brings out his competitive side. He's only pushy with those he's close with, so it takes a lot for people to convince him to go out for bowling or something like that.

WHAT'S HIS FAVORITE DRINK?

What does König like to drink?

He's a pretty thirsty guy, so anything that can properly hydrate him is a go-to. You'll notice when he takes you on rides that he keeps 2 liter water bottles in his backseat for emergency purposes.

It's why he wears his cargo pants outside of work. He's got pockets big enough to carry drinks all over.

Water is his favorite. He's the #1 water apologist. He's so crazy about it that he has a favorite kind of ice. Not the regular cubes, but the hollow nugget kind. He silently rejoices when restaurants and bars put it in his drinks.

And don't even get him started on juice. Orange juice, apple juice, grape juice, lemonade, the list goes on. He keeps the fridge filled with it. He'll typically drink it as a reward after a long day or in the morning once he's eaten something. It's like a little treat. König loves fruity shit. Smoothies, milkshakes, cocktails, all of it. It's why he just HAS to keep so much water on him, or he'll dehydrate.

PHYSICAL TOUCH?

What's his stance on physical touch?

It gives him the same feelings as conversations. It feels like hell. He's not a touchy-feely man. Handshakes, shoulder punches, getting pat on the back. He goes through it pretty often, and it makes him unbelievably uncomfortable when his coworkers do it. He doesn't want to seem rude, as he's already a scary guy, so he never fully expresses his issue, but anyone who can read eyes knows that bothered look. When he scrunches his nose and he winces with unease.

As he gets closer to you, he gets less tense about it. He's more likely to make the first moves and actually start giving hugs without being asked. He'll be all in your head, only stopping after you scold him for messing with it. He likes it when things are too high for you. Instead of grabbing it himself, König will pick you up, lifting you high enough to get it yourself just for a reason to hold your waist. He's pretty huge, so under regular circumstances, he's too tall to reach anything past your breast without bending over.

FRESH OR FUNKY?

What does he smell like?

Fresh. As hell. Man spends at least an hour and a half in the shower. The way it feels against his skin is just so mesmerizing. He loves hot baths and soaking in bubbles. On some days off, he'll go to the sauna with Horangi, but that's only after he's been begged and nagged into compliance.

König has a specific apple-scented soap he uses at night and a cinnamon wood soap for the day. He's likes to keep a different smell throughout the day to set his mood. Call him a pretty boy, but he just likes self care to a certain extent, and smelling good boosts his confidence.

NICKNAMES

Does he like nicknames?

He's neutral about them. Of course, he prefers calling people by their proper names. He's not against it. He's used to being firm and strict because of what he does, so he does his best to come off as sweet with what he calls you.

He puts his on swing on them. He likes teasing you for how much shorter you are than him. Yeah, everyone is shorter than König, but that makes it even funnier to him.

Kleine Frau is his go-to because he knows how much it annoys you to be referred to as a little woman. Other times, he'll just refer to you as some small animal or creature.

Things such as Maus, Haschen, and Schlumpf (Mouse, Bunny, and Smurf) are usually terms he saves for when he's trying to flirt with you, but in the end, they only piss you off, earning you some pathetic little apology where he actually refers to you as Schatze, liebling, or meine liebe; the usual terms of endearment.

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself. If you liked this, I recommend checking HERE for more König content <3

[therealbeachfox]

r/NoStupidQuestions is there a style guide/dress code for gotham rogue henchmen out there somewhere

u/RaddicalCon

"I mean, not something that's written down or printed out.

(Unless you're from my birth-family, in which case it's all written down, mostly in ancient books that stink of dry-rot and leather where Hench're called things like 'Servitors' and 'Beholden' and there's a lot of rules about which parts of the manor you're allowed to drag bodies through at what particular times of the day.)

Otherwise, it's not like there's a HenchCo HQ that puts together an employee dress code or anything. As with most things Hench-related in Gotham, it's all about unspoken rules and running tradition. Vibes, you know?

So here's some of those unwritten rules written down, because fuck the not-police.

A lot of bosses are going to have their own style and Hench-branding already in place. In this case, you wear what the Boss tells you to. Hopefully, they'll supply you the uniform so you don't have to go down to the army surplus and hunt for body armor in the exact right shade of purple or something. Be careful of any Boss who has you buy/rent your uniform with promises you get your money back when you return it. Gotham is hell on clothes regardless of who you are, and there's no way you're going to keep that uniform clean enough to be given your 'deposit' back. Fortunately, these sorts tend to be flash-in-the-pans. They usually wind up dead after they piss off one of the bigger fish, or they don't have anyone willing to bust their cheep-ass out after the first time their cheep ass gets locked up by the capes'n'cowls set.

Even if the Boss doesn't have specific uniform for their hench, they almost always have a certain theme/style of their own going on, and you'll want to play into that. When you join up, take a quick look around. If everyone's decked out in a certain style (jaunty green caps, black leather jackets, red shirts), it's probably a good guess you want to dress similarly if you don't want to draw the Boss' attention (It's almost never a good thing to have the Boss notice you as an individual as opposed to just One of the Minions).

Alright, so you found yourself hooked up with a crew where there doesn't seem to be any theming going on. Here's where the unspoken rules come in. You get to make your own outfit, but if you want to come across as a professional Hench, or at least one who knows what the fuck they're doing, you're going to wanna stick with the standards. These will depend on exactly what kind of outfit you've landed in.

Organized: 'This is a professional operation, boys, and we expect you all to look professional when on the clock.' You're working with one of the crime families, henching for Two-Face on Mr. Dent's side of the room, or fronting for Sionis because you're an unmitigated asshole or a raving idiot. Regardless, you're going to want to get yourself a nice suit. Nothing too fancy, you're not trying to imply you're as good (or rich) as one of the big players. Something off the rack at one of those Fancyish Clothes wholesalers should do you fine. Add a fedora or something if you need to keep your hair warm, consider growing a pencil mustache if you're able, or go for the classic full-eyelashes & red lips makeup if that's more your thing. You might even be able to get away with a trench-coat. Just keep it all either black, grey, or very subdued colors and you'll be fine. And make sure you know how to fight in them. There's nothing worse than watching some guy who can normally tear it up in a street fight get a knife to the gut because he wasn't used to the way tight slacks constrained his ability to throw a kick or leap out of the way of something.

Heavies: It's easy to tell if you're in one of these outfits. If you're spending all your time moving unlabeled crates from one place to another place, standing guard over nondescript warehouses and abandoned factories, or showing up in back alleys to clarify the boss' intentions to some hapless Gothemite, than you're in a Heavy crew. None of the excitement of the others, but you don't have to dress up for it. You're not in the 'Public Facing' part of the Boss' operations, so you don't have to worry about keeping on-theme or even wearing something without holes in it. Conrats. My main suggestion and the most popular getup for this gig? Cable-knit turtleneck and knit cap. Gotham nights are piss-cold nine months out of the year, and it's 9-10 odds you're going to be doing all your work after sundown. Steel-toed boots are also a must. Basically: good, durable, sout, able to handle roughness and keep you warm. Don't try and be cute and wear ugly christmas sweaters or multicolored patterned hats or anything. The only ones there to appreciate your kicking swag are going to be your coworkers (and who gives a shit what they think) or the Bats. Who're going to use the fact that you're distinctive to pick you out for the first to get face-punched. Not worth it.

Street: The Default level for Henching as a whole. Wear what you want. Something that'll keep you as warm and protected as you feel like keeping yourself that you're comfortable beating up assholes and getting your ass kicked in. Some form of tank-top/open-jacket combo is popular these days, as is the Tight Black T-Shirt and Ballcap getup. We're still not letting our freak-flag fly high, here. If you're Henching, the point is usually not to have the cops and everyone else immediately notice you when you walk down the street. If that is your purpose, the Boss probably already has uniforms prepped alongside the gas bombs and explosives. The only thing I wanna stress is to keep up on your laundry. Too many guys take the chill of this setup as an excuse not to keep up on that, and there is nothing worse than having to work with someone who stinks like month-old foot-mold and shit. You are not earning yourself a breakout out of Blackgate if you're putting your coworkers through that.

Wild: Okay, now you can let your freak-flag fly. This is what you want to go with if you're henching for Two-Face on Harvey's side of the room, or in one of those 'are we foot soldiers for a Rogue or are we a street gang?' situations. Let's be honest, you probably don't want to sign onto one of these unless you're comfortable blasting your brain chemistry to pieces on shit you've never even heard of before. In exchange, you can wear whatever the hell you like, so long as it's eye-catching. Combine your mesh tank-top, pink camo cargo pants, and an army-helmet with a dozen spikes, studs, and dyed feathers. Break out your midriff-baring leather jacket, fishnets, and combat boots. Take a trench-coat and wrap a street's worth of road signs around it. Drill elk antlers into a hockey mask and drop the whole thing into neon green paint. Just realize that if it's fragile, it's going to break in your first fight. And you will be in fights. Either against rival Rogues' crews, or with the Bats. Learn how to take a punch, and for the love of god learn how to stay down after you've taken that punch. The only thing getting up over and over again in a blood-frenzy will get you is an ever increasing stay in the ICU.

Of course, the easiest way to make sure you're wearing the right shit for Henchwork is to NOT DO IT.

I'm fucking serious, y'all. Just don't. If you want a snazzy uniform and an excuse to beat people up, join a private security company. If you want to fawn over an evil megalomaniac while furthering their plans for world domination, both Amazon and LexCorp have plenty of job openings. And if you just want to tear shit up for the hell of it, join a street gang. At least then the people by your side might actually give half-a-shit about you at the end of the day.

You can find more of my 'how not to be an idiot and die in Gotham' advice here if you're really in the mood for that.

And to answer the most frequent question: You can find piles of discontinued hench outfits at any Gotham thrift-shop. They've almost always got their own rack you can dig through to your weird little heart's content.

is there a style guide/dress code for gotham rogue henchmen out there somewhere

[leggalese]

I want to throw my hat in the ring for why Beanix specifically makes me feral! It's a direction that *looks,* at first glance, like a complete character inversion but is actually totally reasonable. Basically Phoenix appears different to us, who are "in his head" for the first trilogy, than he does to most of the people around him. We interpret him like an open book, while he actually keeps a lot of his thoughts (especially the snarky ones) to himself. He is kind and naturally trusting, but he also keeps a lot of things secret even from his closest friends (for example, not telling Maya how and why he knows Edgeworth in the first game, not telling her that Edgeworth's "dead," not telling people about Dahlia or his suspicions of Iris, etc.)

So Beanix is super, super interesting! For the first time we are seeing Phoenix as an outsider--we can't hear his thoughts, and he's acting SUPER shady. Apollo obviously doesn't trust him, he's not telling anybody anything, and by the end of AA4 we learn that he's been secretly masterminding a 7-year scheme to take down the murderous asshole who ruined his life. But also--he's so clearly still *Phoenix.* He's not just out for revenge, he wants to fix the entire unfair justice system. He loves and protects his daughter immediately, and you can see so much of his personality in her. He still believes in truth and justice, he's just...wounded. He trusted in a client and was betrayed--but he still trusts Apollo, trusts Trucy, trusts Edgeworth, even trusts Klavier I think. He's smarter and more careful than he used to be, but he was always clever and sneaky and secretive. He's just learned to apply it better.

Also he is very much a DILF. A lil scruff looks so good on him <3

Thank you for your answer! Very detailed! :)

I'm going to share my own thoughts on this because I have them...

This is an interesting take but I must be honest I don't really agree with the first paragraph. I think it's pretty normal to not want to talk about heavy stuff, it doesn't necessarily make the character cagey... There are lots of arguments like how he doesn't talk about himself much and such, but most of those are for narrative purposes so he can be a sort of neutral protagonist character. Nick only struck as secretive to a certain degree but not enough to be a defining character trait. I can see him as clever and a bit sneaky tho, that, I agree with. But I can't for the life of me picture him doing a 7 year scheme... it just felt really out of place?

In the trilogy he seemed pretty open about his opinions and was a very emotionally reactive character even outside his head and perhaps that's what I really and truly missed. I get that whatever happened would have changed him but something just... feels very off and wrong about it and this is the hill I will die on. Having Nick be some mysterious cool guy just doesn't really feel like the character I got to know, ya know?

[drdemonprince]

So I met a guy on a dating app. He’s also Autistic and we have a lot in common. Really hit it off and after some conversation he’s like To be honest I’m not looking for a relationship and I have someone else I really like but she’s not wanting a full on relationship either so we’re looking at ENM or maybe Poly but if that’s not your thing I understand. So I’m a bit disappointed but he’s sweet so I’m like ok let’s be friends.

Then it almost immediately gets sexual and we talk a lot about kink and fetish stuff that we seem pretty aligned with. Which is rare. We sexted a bit and it was great.

But today he told me he’s going on a date with someone. It’s actually a chick I also met off the the same app (I’m bi) but that didn’t bother me. What did bother me was that I got this instant reaction like upset that he was going on a date. It triggered something in me.

Not mad at all with him as he’s been super honest. But didn’t anticipate my own reactions.

So now I have to decide if I stop talking to him and let this go or if I try to move past it and enjoy the positive sides of our friendship.

We had tentative plans to meet in a few weeks time (we don’t live super close to each other). As a date but not a date.

Now I’m super confused about what to do. Especially as I really don’t meet many people that I vibe with and share similar “interests” with etc.

Just not entirely sure I’m built for the whole sharing thing…

Respectfully, it sounds like this dude fucking sucks ass at polyamory and doesn't know what the hell he's doing, and you're gonna get hurt.

First of all, he told you that he was poly because he is down bad for someone who doesn't want to be in a relationship with him? And so what, he's using his other dating partners as some kind of emotional or sexual stopgap?

That's objectifying and downgrading his potential future partners, including you, from the very start -- and it's setting you up to always be in the position of offering him temporary succor from the unrequited desires he has for this other person, only to be sidelined when she IS giving him a lot of attention. Sure, it's great he's being honest or whatever -- but the situation he's inviting you into is honestly disrespectful. You were disappointed to learn about this situation from the start. That feeling is an important signal! He's made it clear that he's not actually emotionally available and will NOT be consistent with you, and believes he has no reason to be.

It's also quite telling that after he established the nature of his relationship with this other person, he pivoted to getting very overtly sexual with you. This makes me wonder a lot about the woman he is pining away for, and what the terms of their relationship is according to her. (because if they're agreeing to get ENM or poly together, that's a relationship! Even if she says it's not a relationship).

Did she tell him that she cares about him but that she doesn't want to fuck him? Is she just less available than he'd like her to be, in terms of time and number of dates? What the hell is this arrangement between the two of them, how much of it was her proposal versus his idea, and where the hell do you fit in in all that?

If two people aren't fully sexually compatible and both parties want to explore sex and kink outside of their relationship to one another, that's fine; I'm living in that situation and it works great. But you have to approach prospective sexual partners with equal respect as you would your pre-existing partner (or whatever the hell she is to him, since they say they're not in a relationship?), and be clear about what you are and are not available for. It seems to me he asked you to be some kind of non-monogoamous, not-exactly-romantic-but-intimate "friends" with one another, and then tried to transition you into being a kinky sex partner once you expressed you could work with that.

I don't mean to remove your agency from this or act as if this is all something he is doing "to" you, because you expressed some interest in him and said the sexual connection is there. But... how much of this arrangement or how any of this is going has had anything to do with you or your stated preferences? Are you just going along with the flow because he seems nice and you want to see some possibilities there and for each new curveball he's throwing you, you're having to find some new way to justify it and make sense of it? What about what you want? What about your feelings? Why do you not get to determine what the relationship even is or where it is going, and he does? Because he's not getting what he wants elsewhere? That's not a good reason. That has nothing to do with you.

It makes sense to me, in light of what a mess his handling of this has been, that when you found out he was also pursuing other casual sexual partners that you felt jealous. Perhaps seeing him seeking out other non-committal, kind of formless sexual encounters with other people made you worry that you were being seen and treated by him in the same way, or that you were basically just a cog he was trying to slot into place for the time being. Or maybe you already felt on some level that you weren't given primacy in your relationship -- because this is a relationship of a kind! -- and now you have to worry about a whole other person who he has his own feelings for and agendas about altering how he relates to you.

You're not in the driver's seat in this relationship, hell you're not even really being consulted -- he's just making decisions about the various women in his life that he's trying to have meet needs for him and plugging them in and out of those roles as it suits him. The actual arrangement you all have entered into could be completely fine if all parties actively wanted it and had clarity and control over their own positions -- I'm a non-monogamous but *not* polyamorous person who dates people casually, and so i explicitly seek out others who are looking only for casual sex, that kind of stuff is fine -- but instead, this guy seems to be just making his choices up on the fly based on when he's horny, or lonely, or who is around and easy to get to.

I think you're giving a lot more latitude to him than he deserves, here. I'm not saying you need to dump him if you don't want to, if the sex seems like it could be fun you should go for it -- but on your terms. What do YOU want out of this connection? How do you see it? How much quality time, consistency, and commitment do you need? How comfortable are you with being non-monogamous and what kind of non-monogamy do you actively *want*? Do you see this guy as a friend? A casual partner (but a partner nonetheless)? A fuckbuddy?

There's a significant distance between you two, you two have been talking a lot, you call him a friend, and you call your plans to get together a "date." This is a relationship, whether he likes to admit it or not, and that comes with responsibilities to treat one another well and be honest, and to respect the other person's needs. And he doesn't seem to be showing any sense of responsibility toward the people he is in relationships with, and maybe doesn't even see them as relationships at all? He might seem nice, but the way he is navigating all of this is very selfish and instrumentalizes other people -- and so I think you should listen to that feeling you have of insecurity, because it's signalling that he's put you in a very insecure place.

Tagging in my homie @pastimperfection who always enjoys yelling about people doing poly badly

[colac3y]

Quite Quiet . •

. • spencer comes home late and gets comfy • .

. • 1.3k words - not proofread • .

. • from lace -- i was in the mood to write and i didn't really have any storyline so i just decided to do a little spencer kind of blurb..i did not proofread this so if there's typos my bad guys im about to fall asleep sitting up ;o • .

. • 11:13 pm.

You were sat, comfy and barely conscious on the big brown couch of your shared apartment. The light and noise of the TV kept you awake, but the warm weight on the cat purring on your lap made your eyelashes flutter, eyes threatening to close.

The soft push of the door made you squeeze your eyes shut a moment to wake yourself a bit, sitting up and bothering the cat. Opening your gaze up again, you see Spencer coming inside.. home finally. He was moving quietly, most likely hoping not to disturb the peace.

"..Hi," You hum softly, bringing the heels of your hands up to rub your eyes. The cat stretches and hops off your lap, bringing some of the throw that sat over you with it.

Spencer's gaze trains up to you, that familiar little smile curling down the corners of his mouth. "You were about to sleep," He states simply. He leans down a moment to place his satchel on the floor beside the door, but he stays down a bit longer when the cat brushes up against his leg and pushes its head into his hand.

"..I wasn't really trying," A soft smile graces your face as you pull up the blanket off the floor again. "How was the case?"

"Mmph, confusing," Spencer hums back. He softly steps into the living room, stopping a moment to glance at the TV before back to your form on the couch. "But, we caught him in the end." He shifts between the ottoman to sit beside you on the cushions. His arms go around your torso, drawing a little breath from your nose. "You should be in bed," He mumbles, giving a soft squeeze to your middle.

"...I was hanging out with Cookie out here." You say softly back. He buries his face into the side of your head, the warmth of his breath fanning over your neck. "She left me when you opened the door.." That stews a soft chuckle from his throat.

"She thinks she can trick me in to thinking you didn't feed her," He mutters into your ear from his spot. He's clinging tonight, which isn't rare when he comes home late like this.

"She's a fatass," you smile, your head burying into the top of his head. He shakes his head, his arms tightening around your middle, moving softly to try and bury himself into your side.

"Don't be mean.." He pouts, "That's my baby."

"I thought I was your baby," You whisper back, your head dipping down slightly to try and look at him, but his head is still tucked into you.

"Mmh." His lack of a response, aswell as his mumbly-ness, showed to you that he was close to knocking out. He confirmed with his next words, "I'm sleepy."

"I know," you hum in response. "Me too."

"I know."

You feel a soft nod against your neck, causing your head to tilt slightly towards him. You nudge your arm slightly out of its squished position, and spencer shifts slightly to let it go. You get free and snake your arm behind his back, hand resting on his side. He lets out a soft, content breath. You shift softly to lay back down again.

"Lay back, Spence." Your eyes train up on him when he doesn't ease up. Must've been the case, something about it. He looks down, lips parted softly, before he settles down. His head dips down to rest on your chest, he seems almost vulnerable. Small.

His body fits nice into the crooks of your own, his leg fitting itself between yours, his other knee brushing against your calf. Spencer's hand finds home on your back beneath your shirt, shifting upward gently and then back down again. you hum gently in response, fingers threading through his hair.

"I missed you.." He mumbles, his face buried into your shirt. His legs bring themselves up, to try and get some warmth, since blanket covers neither of your feet.

"I missed you, doctor." Your voice was soft and sleep-slurred. He smiles at your words, at your sweet sleepiness. You scratch at his scalp with gentle fingers. You were both quiet, your eyes trained back on the TV. It played on a random channel, some cop show like CSI or something, you weren't sure. You watched anyway. Spence was quiet, breathing you in.

His head stayed snuggled into your chest, his arm resting over your stomach as it rose and fell real softly. His hair sifted between your fingers, before you promptly buried your hand back in, pulling out gently and doing that over and over. The action seemed to soothe him. He was comfy, even still in his work clothes. You never understood how he could be in dress pants and 3 layers but still fall asleep under a duvet and 2 throws. It made you sweat just thinking about it, and you slept in a pair of underwear and a shirt.

After a bit of lying still, your hand comes from his head to his back, scratching your nails gently up and down the back of his shirt. His expression was content, as he moved to rest his cheek on the surface of your shirt, so now he could watch the TV, as you had been doing.

"...Is that what you do?" You mumble softly, a smile crossing your face. You were joking. Spencer swallowed as he watched the screen.

"No, angel. Well.. sort of. Sometimes. They're CSI." His finger traced soft lines up and down your arm as he spoke, his voice more gentle than usual.

"Mmh." You nod softly. "That's gnarly."

"Yeah." He hums. The screen showed a pretty bad crime scene, blood like.. everywhere.

"I couldn't stomach that."

"..Mhm." He's listening. He just can't find the conscious mind to respond properly. It grows quiet again, the two of you bathing in each other's company. His knuckles run up and down your arm with gentle strokes. Every so often you flinch at the touches.

He raises his head softly to look up at you when he notices your movements. His eyes brown eyes got big and sweet and his lips parted softly like they were when he got sleepy. "What?" Spencer mutters, resting his chin on you and holding his gaze with yours. He looked like a puppy, his eyelashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks. "Why're you flinching?"

"I'm falling asleep and you doing that wakes me up." You mutter, shifting again to rest your head back on the couch pillow.

"Sorry." He hums softly in response. shifting to rest his head back on you.

"Don't say sorry."

It was quiet once again. Comfortable quiet. After a bit, uou reach your hand down, to find the remote on the floor. "We should go to bed.."

"Mm-mm." Spencer was still, you could feel his breath on your collar. He didn't wanna move. He was content, feeling your stomach rise and fall beneath his sternum, feeling your hands brush through his hair and over his back. He didn't want to even think about getting up.

"Mm-mm? Don't complain to me when your back hurts and you have a kink in your neck tomorrow, honey."

"I wont." He snuggled his head further into your his voice muffled by your shirt.

"Oookay." You pat his back, scratching his shoulder a moment before moving your hand back to hang off the couch and search for the remote on the floor.

The TV turns black, the room going quieter. Spencer's soft breathing fillled your ears. He took the TV turning off as you two were going to sleep. "Goodnight, y/n."

"..Night, Spencer." you breathe, dipping your chin down to your chest to press a kiss to him, but you would have to sit up to reach. Your head lolls back onto the pillow once more. It's not too soon after that, that he falls asleep. He hasn't slept good for days, all he did was miss you. He couldn't bare to even get up and be off you.

Tomorrow, he would complain right when he woke that he had a kink in his neck.

[elviehun]

Okay so. I'll probably lose some followers now and I'm sorry but I couldn't care less about that shit (tumblr is my emotional/thirst support corkboard and a place to interact with a few cherished friends and nothing abt being any kind of cool or popular or anything and I never was either of that thankfully). I am not gonna sugarcoat this.

SERIOUSLY. GUYS.

ANYONE. MAKING. FUN. OF. BOB'S. DEATH. IS. A. SHITTY. IMMATURE. TROUBLED. PERSON.

I'm not going to defend ANY of his 100% wrong views and some truly fucked up actions in the past but he was A PERSON. Not to mention a person with very, very unstable mental health who tragically just went further and further down after being smashed into superstardom - which trajectory ended on a really traumatic note for everyone involved. He was a mentally ill person whose actions in the past months/years might have been lashing out in frustration or cries for help or possible red flags for s*icidal thoughts. Yet he is reported (fuck TMZ btw for immediately capitalizing on sg like this) to have been found alone weeks after his death. Adding that nobody seems to have missed him for weeks? and the hate replies and kys 'jokes?' from literal KIDS on twitter to the mix just makes the whole issue all the more messy and sad.

If you claim yourself an mcr fan and sent hate msgs to anyone!!! struggling with mental health EVER, let alone a former member of a band you claim to love, and especially a band so outspoken about mental health awareness and s*icide prevention, I have no excuses for you. Go fuck yourself. Life is no fucking game or a meme pool, people are no darts boards of your own frustrations, grow the fuck up or SHUT the fuck up. I'm sick to my stomach learning about those actions.

Anybody 'celebrating' his death should just consider for a fucking SECOND (even if you don't have the emotional intelligence to consider that he probably has a family mourning and in deep regret right now) what the guys must be going through these moments. Right after letting the whole world know they are about to tour on and celebrate the legacy of the album that he played an essential part in. Regardless of what might have gone down among them back in the day, it must be very uncomfortable and frankly, devastating, for the boys to hear about the way his life ended. I hope the family and the guys are taking care of themselves.

Honestly I was always neutral about Bob while he was a member, and again, no excuses for some shitty things he said and believed in, but he WAS a great musician and the best album of the century would NOT be the same without his contribution. At least respect that, if nothing else.

I'm just sad that he doesn't have the chance to turn his life and wrongdoings around now. 44 is way too young to go.

May his spirit find peace. Rest easy, Bob.

[r1vrgreene]

I may not live to see our glory (I may not live to see our glory) But I've seen wonders great and small (I've seen wonders great and small) 'Cause if the tomcat can get married (If Alexander can get married) There's hope for our ass, after all

Raise a glass to freedom (hey!) Something you will never see again No matter what she tells you Let's have another round tonight Raise a glass to the four of us (ho!) To the newly not poor of us (woo-hoo!) We'll tell the story of tonight Let's have another round

Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr (Sir!) I didn't think that you would make it To be sure (Burr) I came to say congratulations Spit a verse, Burr I see the whole gang is here You are the worst, Burr

Ignore them Congrats to you, Lieutenant Colonel I wish I had your command instead of manning George's journal No, you don't Yes, I do Now, be sensible From what I hear, you've made yourself indispensable

Well, well, I heard You've got a special someone on the side, Burr Is that so? What are you tryin' to hide, Burr? I should go No, these guys should go What? No! Leave us alone Man

It's alright, Burr I wish you'd brought this girl with you tonight, Burr You're very kind, but I'm afraid it's unlawful, sir What do you mean? She's married I see She's married to a British officer Oh, shit

Congrats again, Alexander Smile more I'll see you on the other side of the war I will never understand you If you love this woman, go get her What are you waiting for? I'll see you on the other side of the war I'll see you on the other side of the war

Theodosia writes me a letter ev'ry day. I'm keeping her bed warm while her husband is away. He's on the British side in Georgia. He's tryin' to keep the colonies in line. But he can keep all of Georgia. Theodosia, she's mine. Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners And the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway. We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes. And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it. I'm willing to wait for it. My grandfather Was a fire and brimstone preacher, Preacher, preacher, preacher But there are things that the homilies and hymns Won't teach ya. Teach ya, teach ya, teach ya My mother was a genius, Genius My father commanded respect. Respect, respect When they died they left no instructions. Just a legacy to protect. Death doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall and we break And we make our mistakes. And if there's a reason I'm still alive When everyone who loves me has died I'm willing to wait for it. I'm willing to wait for it. Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it I am the one thing in life I can control Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it I am inimitable I am an original Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it I'm not falling behind or running late Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it Wait for it I'm not standing still I am lying in wait Wait Wait Wait Hamilton faces an endless uphill climb Climb Climb Climb He has something to prove he has nothing to lose Lose Lose Lose Lose Hamilton's pace is relentless He wastes no time Time Time Time What is it like in his shoes? Hamilton doesn't hesitate. He exhibits no restraint. He takes and he takes and he takes And he keeps winning anyway. He changes the game. He plays and he raises the stakes. And if there's a reason He seems to thrive when so few survive Then Goddamnit I'm willing to wait for it. I'm willing to wait for it... I'm willing to wait for it... Life doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes. And we keep living anyway We rise and we fall and we break We fall and we make our mistakes. And if there's a reason I'm still alive When so many have died Then I'm willin' to- then I'm willin' to- Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait for it... Wait...

Stay alive

Stay alive

I have never seen the General so despondent I have taken over writing all his correspondence Congress writes, "George, attack the British forces" I shoot back, we have resorted to eating our horses Local merchants deny us equipment, assistance They only take British money, so sing a song of sixpence

The cavalry's not coming

But, sir

Alex, listen There's only one way for us to win this Provoke outrage, outright

That's right

Don't engage, strike by night Remain relentless 'til their troops take flight

Make it impossible to justify the cost of the fight

Outrun

Outrun

Outlast

Outlast

Hit 'em quick, get out fast

Chick-a-plao

Stay alive 'til this horror show is past We're gonna fly a lot of flags half-mast

Raise a glass

I go back to New York and my apprenticeship

I ask for French aid, I pray that France has sent a ship

I stay at work with Hamilton We write essays against slavery And every day's a test of our camaraderie And bravery

We cut supply lines, we steal contraband We pick and choose our battles and places to take a stand And ev'ry day Sir, entrust me with a command And ev'ry day

No

He dismisses me out of hand

Instead of me (stay alive) He promotes Charles Lee Makes him second-in-command

I'm a General Whee

Yeah He's not the choice I would have gone with

He shits the bed at the Battle of Monmouth

Ev'ryone attack

Retreat

Attack

Retreat

What are you doing, Lee? Get back on your feet

But there's so many of them

I'm sorry, is this not your speed? Hamilton

Ready, sir Have Lafayette take the lead

Yes, sir

A thousand soldiers die in a hundred degree heat

As we snatch a stalemate from the jaws of defeat

Charles Lee was left behind Without a pot to piss in He started sayin' this to anybody who would listen

Washington cannot be left alone to his devices Indecisive, from crisis to crisis The best thing he can do for the revolution Is turn n' go back to plantin' tobacco in Mount Vernon

Ooh

Don't do a thing History will prove him wrong

But, sir

We have a war to fight, let's move along

Strong words from Lee, someone oughta hold him to it

I can't disobey direct orders

Then I'll do it Alexander, you're the closest friend I've got

Laurens, do not throw away your shot

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine

It's the ten duel commandments It's the ten duel commandments

Number one!

The challenge: demand satisfaction If they apologize, no need for further action

Number two!

If they don't, grab a friend, that's your second Your Lieutenant, when there's reckoning to be reckoned

Number three!

Have your seconds meet face to face Negotiate a peace Or negotiate a time and place

This is commonplace, specially 'tween recruits Most disputes die and no one shoots

Number four!

If they don't reach a peace, that's alright Time to get some pistols and a doctor on site

You pay him in advance, you treat him with civility You have him turn around, so he can have deniability

Five!

Duel before the sun is in the sky Pick a place to die where it's high and dry

Number six!

Leave a note for your next of kin Tell 'em where you been Pray that Hell or Heaven lets you in

Seven!

Confess your sins Ready for the moment of adrenaline When you finally face your opponent

Number eight!

Your last chance to negotiate Send in your seconds See if they can set the record straight

Alexander

Aaron Burr, sir

Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?

Sure But your man has to answer for his words, Burr

With his life? We both know that's absurd, sir

Hang on, how many men died because Lee was inexperienced and ruinous?

Okay, so we're doing this

Number nine!

Look him in the eye, aim no higher Summon all the courage you require Then count

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine Number (Ten paces!) Fire!

Lee, do you yield?

You shot him in the side Yes, he yields

I'm satisfied

Yo, we gotta clear the field

Go We won

Here comes the general

This should be fun What is the meaning of this? Mr. Burr, get a medic for the general

Yes, sir

Lee, you will never agree with me But believe me, these young men don't speak for me Thank you for your service

Let's ride

Hamilton

Sir

Meet me inside

Meet him inside Meet him inside Meet him inside, meet him, meet him inside

Son

Don't call me son

This war is hard enough Without infighting

Lee called you out We called his bluff

You solve nothing, you aggravate our allies to the south You're absolutely right, John should have shot him in the mouth That would've shut him up

Son

I'm notcha son

Watch your tone I am not a maiden in need of defending, I am grown

Charles Lee, Thomas Conway These men take your name and they rake it Through the mud

My name's been through a lot, I can take it

Well, I don't have your name I don't have your titles I don't have your land But, if you

No

If you gave me command of a battalion, a group of men to lead I could fly above my station after the war

Or you could die and we need you alive

I'm more than willing to die

Your wife needs you alive, son, I need you alive

Call me son one more time

Go home, Alexander That's an order from your commander

Sir

Go home

Look around, look around at how lucky we are To be alive right now Look around, look around

How long have you known? A month or so Eliza, you should have told me I wrote to the General a month ago, no I begged him to send you home You should have told me

I'm not sorry I knew you'd fight until the war was won (the war's not done) But you deserve a chance to meet your son Look around, look around At how lucky we are to be alive right now

Will you relish being a poor man's wife Unable to provide for your life? I relish being your wife

Look around, look around Look at where you are Look at where you started The fact that you're alive is a miracle Just stay alive, that would be enough

And if this child Shares a fraction of your smile Or a fragment of your mind Look out world That would be enough

I don't pretend to know The challenges you're facing The worlds you keep erasing and creating in your mind But I'm not afraid I know who I married So long as you come home at the end of the day That would be enough

We don't need a legacy We don't need money If I could grant you peace of mind If you could let me inside your heart Oh, let me be a part of the narrative In the story, they will write someday Let this moment be the first chapter Where you decide to stay

And I could be enough And we could be enough That would be enough

How does a ragtag volunteer army, in need of a shower Somehow defeat a global superpower? How do we emerge victorious from the quagmire? Leave the battlefield waving Betsy Ross's flag higher?

Yo, turns out we have a secret weapon An immigrant you know and love who's unafraid to step in He's constantly confusing, confounding the British henchmen Everyone give it up for America's favourite fighting Frenchman

Lafayette!

I'm taking this horse by the reins Making redcoats redder with bloodstains

Lafayette!

And I'm never gonna stop until I make 'em drop And burn 'em up and scatter the remains I'm—Lafayette!

Watch me engaging 'em, escaping 'em, enraging 'em, ow

Lafayette!

I go to France for more funds

Lafayette!

I come back with more guns

And ships And so the balance shifts We rendezvous with Rochambeau

Consolidate their gifts We can end this war at Yorktown, cut them off at sea, but

For this to succeed, there is someone else we need I know (Hamilton!)

Sir, he knows what to do in the trench

Ingenuitive and fluent in French

I mean (Hamilton!) Sir, you're going to have to use him eventually What's he going to do on the bench

I mean (Hamilton!)

No one has more resilience Or matches my practical, tactical brilliance (Hamilton!) You want to fight for your land back? (Hamilton!) I need my right hand man back (Hamilton!) (Ah, uh, ) get your right hand man back (Hamilton!) (You know you gotta get ya) right hand man back(Hamilton!) I mean, you gotta put some thought into the letter (Ha- Ha-) (Hamilton, Hamilton) But the sooner the better To get your right hand man back (Ha- Ha-) Alexander Hamilton Troops are waiting in the field for you If you join us right now, together we can turn the tide Oh, Alexander Hamilton I have soldiers that will yield for you If we manage to get this right They'll surrender by early light The world will never be the same Alexander

I was younger than you are now When I was given my first command I led my men straight into a massacre I witnessed their deaths firsthand I made every mistake And felt the shame rise in me And even now I lie awake

[Washington (Laurens/Mulligan):] Knowing history has its eyes on me (Whoa oh oh…) (Whoa…) (Whoa…) (Yeah)

[Hamilton/Washington (Company):] History has its eyes on me (Whoa oh oh…) (Whoa…) (Whoa…) (Yeah)

[Washington:] Let me tell you what I wish I'd known When I was young and dreamed of glory You have no control

[Washington And Company:] Who lives, who dies, who tells your story

[Washington:] I know that we can win I know that greatness lies in you But remember from here on in

[Washington/Hamilton and men (Ensemble):] History has its eyes on you (Whoa oh oh…) (Whoa…) (Whoa…)

[Full Company:] History has its eyes on you

The battle of Yorktown, 1781 Monsieur Hamilton Monsieur Lafayette In command where you belong

How you say, no sweat Finally on the field, we've had quite a run Immigrants, we get the job done

So what happens if we win? I go back to France I bring freedom to my people If I'm given the chance

We'll be with you when you do Go lead your men I see you on the other side 'Til we meet again, let's go!

I am not throwin' away my shot! I am not throwin' away my shot! Hey yo, I'm just like my country I'm young scrappy and hungry And I'm not throwin' away my shot! I am not throwin' away my shot! 'Til the world turns upside down 'Til the world turns upside down!

I imagine death so much, it feels more like a memory This is where it gets me, on my feet the enemy ahead of me If this is the end of me, at least I have a friend with me Weapon in my hand, a command, and my men with me Then I remember my Eliza's expecting me Not only that, my Eliza's expecting We gotta go, gotta get the job done Gotta start a new nation, gotta meet my son!

Take the bullets out your gun! (What?) The bullets out your gun! (What?) We move undercover and we move as one Through the night, we have one shot to live Another day We cannot let a stray gunshot give us away

We will fight up close, seize the moment and stay in it It's either that or meet the business end of a bayonet The code word is "Rochambeau", dig me? (Rochambeau!) You have your orders now, go, man, go!

And so the American experiment begins With my friends all scattered to the winds Laurens is in South Carolina, redefining bravery We'll never be free until we end slavery! When we finally drive the British away Lafayette is there waiting in Chesapeake Bay! How did we know that this plan would work? We had a spy on the inside, that's right

Hercules Mulligan! A tailor spyin' on the British government! I take their measurements, information and then I smuggle it! (Up) To my brother's revolutionary covenant I'm runnin' with the Sons of Liberty and I am lovin' it! See, that's what happens when you up against the ruffians We in the shit now, somebody gotta shovel it! Hercules Mulligan, I need no introduction When you knock me down I get the fuck back up again!

Left! Right! Hold! Go! What! What! What!

After a week of fighting, a young man in a red coat stands on a parapet We lower our guns as he frantically waves a white handkerchief And just like that, it's over, we tend to our wounded, we count our dead Black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom Not yet

We negotiate the terms of surrender I see George Washington smile We escort their men out of Yorktown They stagger home single file Tens of thousands of people flood the streets There are screams and church bells ringing And as our fallen foes retreat I hear the drinking song they're singing

The world turned upside down The world turned upside down The world turned upside down The world turned upside down Down, down, down, down

Freedom for America, freedom for France! Down, down, down Gotta start a new nation, gotta meet my son Down, down, down

We won! We won! We won! We won! The world turned upside down!

They say The price of my war's not a price that they are willing to pay Insane You cheat with the French Now I'm fighting with France and with Spain

I'm so blue I thought that we made an arrangement when you went away You were mine to subdue When even despite our estrangement I've got a small query for you

What comes next? You've been freed Do you know how hard it is to lead? You're on your own Awesome, wow! Do you have a clue what happens now?

Oceans rise Empires fall It's much harder when it's all your call All alone, across the sea When your people say they hate you Don't come crawling back to me

Da da da dat da dat da da da ya da Da da dat da da ya da! You're on your own

Dear Theodosia, what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother's name When you came into the world, you cried And it broke my heart

I'm dedicating every day to you Domestic life was never quite my style When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart And to thought I was so smart

You will come of age with our young nation We'll bleed and fight for you We'll make it right for you If we lay a strong enough foundation We'll pass it on to you, we'll give the world to you And you'll blow us all away Someday, someday Yeah, you'll blow us all away Someday, someday

Oh, Philip, when you smile I am undone My son, look at my son Pride is not the word I'm looking for There is so much more inside me now Oh, Philip, you outshine the morning sun My son When you smile, I fall apart And I thought I was so smart

My father wasn't around (my father wasn't around) I swear that I'll be around for you I'll do whatever it takes (I'll make a million mistakes) I'll make the world safe and sound for you

Will come of age with our young nation We'll bleed and fight for you We'll make it right for you If we lay a strong enough foundation We'll pass it on to you, we'll give the world to you And you'll blow us all away Someday, someday

Yeah, you'll blow us all away Someday, someday

After the war I went back to New York

A-After the war I went back to New York

I finished up my studies and I practiced law

I practiced law, Burr worked next door

Even though we started at the very same time Alexander Hamilton began to climb How to account for his rise to the top? Man, the man is Non-stop!

Gentlemen of the jury, I'm curious, bear with me Are you aware that we're making history? This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation The liberty behind deliberation Non-stop!

I am meant to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt With my assistant counsel—

Co-counsel. Hamilton, sit down Our client Levi Weeks is innocent, call your first witness That's all you had to say

Okay, one more thing—

Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude may be your doom

Aww!

Why do you write like you're running out of time? Write day and night like you're running out of time Every day you fight like you're running out of time

Keep on fighting, in the meantime Non-stop!

Corruption's such an old song that we can sing along in harmony And nowhere is it stronger than in Albany This colony's economy's increasingly stalling And honestly, that's why (He's just) Public service seems to be (non-stop!) calling me

I practiced the law, practic'ly perfected it I've seen injustice in the world and I've corrected it Now for a strong central democracy If not, then I'll be Socrates Throwing verbal rocks at these mediocrities (Awww!)

Hamilton at the Constitutional Convention

I was chosen for the Constitutional Convention!

There as a New York junior delegate

Now what I'm gonna say may sound indelicate... (Awww!)

Goes and proposes his own form of government What?

His own plan for a new form of government What?

Talks for six hours, the convention is listless

Bright young man! Yo, who the eff is this?

Why do you always say what you believe? Why do you always say what you believe?

Every proclamation guarantees Free ammunition for your enemies (Awww!)

Why do you write like it's going out of style (goin out of style, hey) Write day and night like it's going out of style (goin out of style, hey) Every day you fight like it's going out of style Do you what you do

Alexander?

Aaron Burr, sir

Well, it's the middle of the night

Can we confer, sir?

Is this a legal matter?

Yes, and it's important to me

What do you need?

Burr, you're a better lawyer than me

Okay?

I know I talk too much, I'm abrasive You're incredible in court, you're succinct, persuasive My client needs a strong defence, you're the solution

Who's your client?

The new U.S. Constitution?

No

Hear me out—

No way!

A series of essays anonymously published Defending the document to the public

No one'll read it

I disagree!

And if it fails?

Burr, that's why we need it

The constitution's a mess!

So it needs amendments

It's full of contradictions!

So is independence We have to start somewhere

No, no, no, no, no, no way

You're making a mistake

Good night!

Hey! What are you waiting for? What do you stall for?

What?

We won the war, what was it all for? Do you support this constitution?

Of course

Then defend it!

And what if you're backing the wrong horse?

Burr, we studied and we fought and we killed For the notion of a nation we now get to build For once in your life take a stand with pride I don't understand how you stand to the side

I don't keep all my plans close to my chest

Wait for it, wait for it, wait

I won't wait here and see which

Way the wind will blow I'm taking my time watching the afterbirth of a nation Watching the tension grow

I am sailing off to London I am accompanied by someone who always pays I have found a wealthy husband Who will keep me in comfort for all my days He is not a lot of fun but There's no one who can match you for turn of phrase My Alexander—

Angelica

Don't forget to write

Look at where you are Look at where you started The fact that you're alive is a miracle Just stay alive, that would be enough And if your wife could share a fraction of your time If I could grant you peace of mind Would that be enough?

Alexander joins forces with James Madison and John Jay to write a series of essays Defending the new United States Constitution, entitled The Federalist Papers The plan was to write a total of twenty-five essays The work divided evenly among the three men In the end, they wrote eighty-five essays in the span of six months John Jay got sick after writing five James Madison wrote twenty-nine Hamilton wrote the other FIFTY-ONE!

How do you write like you're

Running out time Write day and night like you're

Running out time

Every day you fight like you're

Running out time

Like you're

Running out time

Are you running out time?

How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive? How do you write like you need it to survive? How do you write every second you're alive Every second you're alive Every second you're alive

They're asking me to lead I'm doing the best I can To get the people that I need I'm asking you to be my right hand man

Treasury or State?

I know it's a lot to ask—

Treasury or State?

To leave behind the world you know—

Sir, do you want me to run the Treasury or State Department?

Treasury

Let's go

Alexander!

I have to leave

Alexander!

Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now

Helpless

They are asking me to lead

Look around, isn't this enough?

He will never be satisfied

Would it be enough?

He will never be satisfied

Satisfied, satisfied, satisfied

History has it's eyes on you

Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?

Look around, look around

Non-stop!

He will never be satisfied, satisfied, satisfied

Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude may be your doom

Isn't this enough? Would it be enough?

History has it's eyes on you

Why do you write like you're running out of time?

Non-stop!

Why do you write like—

History has it's eyes on you!

I am not throwing away my shot!

Just you wait

I am not throwing away my shot!

Just you wait

I am Alexander Hamilton

Hamilton Just you wait

I am not throwing away my shot!

END OF ACT 1 YyAYAYAYA

ADD ME BACK ON ROBLOX YOU COWARD

IM WATCHING FALSETTOS LEAVE ME ALONE

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

I Am All In Rewatch - Jess & Rory - Episode 2x10

So their sleigh ride their accidental sleigh ride their unintentional sleigh ride. I mean, we've got to protect Rory...You know, Jess jumped in there, um you know that was it made it clear to me and I think the audience that he's kind of more up her alley there with the literature...And she got caught looking at him. I mean Dean, Dean nailed her from across the room. There was a look....Rory has some damage. I mean, she she covers it well. She you know, she's self analytical, she's very bright. She understands what her issues are, and she probably resolved them a lot of them on her own or just with conversations with Lorelai...Because they're they're they're highly psychological couple. I mean they're highly aware. Um uh. And I think I think she has that in common with Jess. I think that the hurt and the pain that he feels is the same hurt and from the rejection his mother rejecting him is the same thing that Rory probably felt with Christopher when when you know they he decided to go off to California or wherever he went, you know what I mean. I mean, she didn't have a father that lives...that leaves a huge hole in your life. Um, and I think, you know, that's what hit me so deeply in this episode. There's a couple of things that was The first thing is like, is knowing the pain of being rejected by a parent is is searing and it's deep. And I think it's how they're connecting. I think, whether they know it or not, that's it. That's the glue and that's why it's gonna work. -Scott 

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hemisi hugged herself worriedly as her parents approached her. Ganondorf wasn't entirely sure what was bothering his daughter - things had been tense since the attack, but he had just ensured peace by swearing fealty to Rauru. This was supposed to be a moment of reprieve, a time for his family to not worry as he prepared for the future.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Nabooru asked before he could.

"I haven't found Link," Hemisi said, her voice anxious. "I've been looking everywhere for him. The guards won't really tell me much."

Ganondorf fel this ire rise. The guards likely were trying to protect Link, but they had no right to refuse information to the princess of the Gerudo. Such a slight would not be ignored. Not to mention he too wanted to know where the boy was.

"Leave this to me," he said crisply, walking away.

It didn't take much time (or threatening glares) to get what he needed. Link, apparently, was on a place called Thunderhead Island, one of the Zonai lands in the sky.

"Thunderhead Island?" Nabooru repeated after Ganondorf reported back. "We'd need a construct to get us up there, right?"

"Yeah," Hemisi answered. "Link's told me about the islands lots of times. Not many are allowed on them - it's usually just the royal family and the Sheikah."

"They'll allow me," Ganondorf rumbled, crossing his arms. "I am a king."

"Yes, but that island is also fairly volatile," Nabooru argued. "I'm better with lightning magic. I should go."

Personally, Ganondorf was far more inclined to go retrieve the boy himself, but he didn't contest the matter. Nabooru seemed rather set on the issue, and some things weren't worth arguing with her. As much as he admired her determination, he also knew she would fight him for so long that Hemisi would probably just sneak off to do the deed herself, and neither parent wanted that. The girl's abilities with lightning were formidable, but she would likely cause trouble if she went alone.

"Very well," he conceded. "We'll be waiting down here."

Nodding, Nabooru grabbed a cloak and headed towards the nearest construct. At activated at her approach, acknowledging in a mechanically musical chime, "May I help you?"

"I need to get to Thunderhead Island," Nabooru said.

The construct's reply was quick as ever. "That place is restricted."

"I am the queen of the Gerudo," Nabooru replied. "I have special access."

The construct paused a moment, processing, before noting, "I will need authorization for you to go there."

"This is an emergency," Nabooru argued. "You can speak to King Rauru about it afterwards if you please, I don't care, but one of my family is up there and I need to find him."

Although the construct was programmed to gate keep, she also knew giving a sense of urgency or danger would override its usual algorithm. Predictably, the construct questioned, "Is someone in danger?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

The Zonai machine was silent for a moment before giving an admission. "This line of logic is acceptable. I will transport you to Thunderhead Island and report the matter to King Rauru."

"You do that," she sighed. It didn't really matter of Rauru knew. Nabooru wasn't exactly keen on causing a stir within hours of Ganondorf swearing his loyalty, especially given their history, but something Hemisi's anxiety and Link's very obvious disappearance was definitely concerning. Considering the ceremony that had just happened and the celebration that had followed, Link should have been one of the first people they saw.

The construct extended its hand in front of a stone circle, and the familiar green hue of Zonai technology activated, glowing in the circle's center. Nabooru stepped forward, letting it transport her, closing her eyes as her world shifted. The air grew much colder, even more frigid than she was expecting, and she suddenly felt a little short of breath. Goddess, she'd thought the Highlands were chilly. Why was the air so much stranger here? She was shocked into opening her eyes as her cloak was immediately bombarded by a wave of rain, thunder rumbling all around her. A circular fountain of water was in front of her, surrounded by stone architecture. She walked forward, off the platform on the ground that had received her. She needed to set to work soon, already feeling a little lightheaded.

A few steps ahead it became apparent that this island wasn't just an island, but an entire chain of them. Nabooru glanced around hesitantly, looking for some kind of Zonai device to help transport her from place to place, and found none. What was Link doing here? Where was he?

Nabooru looked between pillars, on and under benches, until she'd thoroughly searched the island she was on and the few she could see. But a flash of blonde caught her attention just as she was starting to wonder if Ganondorf had been wrong, and she squinted against the rainfall to see a teenager sitting on the ground, knees tucked into his chest, wearing the attire of the palace guards combined with a headdress and Gerudo earrings gifted to him by his betrothed.

Clamping her jaw shut against the tremors that tried to make her teeth chatter, Nabooru wrapped herself more tightly in her cloak, she found a set of stairs that at least connected to this little island, moving quickly down them. Link, for whatever reason, chose to sit outside a small building, ignoring a construct nearby that was tending to a tree. The boy was soaked to the bone, red skin paint that usually adorned his exposed arm having long been washed away from his tan complexion. His red eyes were dull, hidden under platinum blonde plaits plastered to his forehead. The sparkling splendor of the Gerudo headband and earrings was dulled considerably, and his top knot was half undone in the rain.

"Link," Nabooru called a little loudly so she could be heard. "What are you doing out here?"

Link didn't seem to react all that much, or at least it wasn't apparent in this awful weather. But she heard him mutter, "You're not supposed to be here."

"Nor should you be here," Nabooru accused mildly, walking towards him. She paused short of reaching him, seeing him clam up even more. "News of our arrival has been known for at least a week. Yet on the day that Ganondorf creates peace between the Gerudo and Hyrule, you hide from us? Hemisi's been looking for you."

"Ganondorf attacked Hyrule." Link's words were sharp, dark. He was clearly still upset about the molduga assault.

Nabooru sighed. This really wasn't the place to be having this discussion - she was freezing and dizzy, and if he got any more soaked the boy would practically be a Zora. "Yes. He did. You know him, sweetheart. He likes to test his boundaries before he concedes to them. But he's conceded."

Link tucked his chin to his chest, looking away.

"Honey, the fight is over," Nabooru pressed on, stepping closer to him. "And for the first time, the Gerudo now have an alliance with Hyrule. We're a part of it - this would mean you and Hemisi don't have to hide your relationship from the public eye anymore, that there is nothing to hide anymore. This is a joyous occasion, not a reason to be moping in the rain. Come down with me so you can be with your family, love."

She finally cleared the distance between them, crouching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. Link glared moodily at the lands below, eye lashes dripping with moisture. Quietly, almost to himself, he said, "Ganondorf never concedes."

"Well, he did," Nabooru emphasized slowly. Link had not been included in the discussion of their attack on Hyrule, had been completely blindsided as Ganondorf had suggested he and Hemisi play and explore near the mines that day so they wouldn't be involved. Nabooru knew that as a member of the Sheikah tribe he would likely take it harder than most Hyrulians, but she hadn't expected quite the grudge he seemed to be holding. "Come on, love. You're freezing."

Lightning struck a small spire at the top of the building they were sitting near, making Nabooru straighten up and prepare for another strike. Thunder clapped so loudly it made her chest vibrate. Link sighed, slowly pushing to his feet. He must have been sitting for some time, swaying a little unsteadily, and Nabooru put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him inside the structure. Constructs were indoors, stoking a fire, and she approached one. "Can you take us back to the Royal Plateau?"

The little machine beeped in the affirmative, guiding them to a hover platform that sent them back to the originating island. Nabooru's hands were on Link's shoulders the entire time, feeling them tremble under her, and she pulled him close so they could share her cloak. His skin was ice cold, making her inhale sharply a little when he brushed against her exposed arms and abdomen. A headache was brewing in her forehead, and she was certainly ready to leave this dreary place.

When the pair teleported back, Ganondorf and Hemisi were there waiting for them.

"Link!" Hemisi exclaimed, rushing forward and dragging him into a hug. "You idiot, why are you soaking wet?! Where've you been?!"

"Hon, can you spare your robe?" Nabooru asked, still holding the boy to her.

Her husband complied without question, pulling off his dark outer robe and holding it out. The parents exchanged Link, one set of arms to the other, and the boy was wrapped up and held against Ganondorf quickly. He didn't argue, he didn't protest, he didn't speak as Hemisi bombarded him with questions. The king and queen exchanged a look, and the family moved towards their provided quarters in the palace.

Eventually, Link started to speak softly to his betrothed, seeming less agitated with her, and soon the two were both cuddling under Ganondorf's large garment. Nabooru moved to fetch servants so they could get him fresh clothes and some warm food, and Hemisi moved quickly to the task as well, saying she was going to grab towels.

That left Ganondorf and Link.

"So were you up there sulking the entire time since the assault?" Ganondorf finally said, getting to the point as he knelt down to the boy's eye level.

"No." Link's reply wasn't quite snappish, but it was certainly sharp, though not nearly as sharp as his eyes. Ganondorf smiled at the fire in them, the anger and force of will that refused to bow down to anything. "Just for your arrival."

"If you thought we wouldn't find you, you clearly don't know us as well as you should," Ganondorf noted with mild humor, pulling the robe over the boy's head to dry his hair. He carefully removed the pins and tie holding the top knot, tucking them into a pouch on his belt. Link didn't protest, though his gaze did drift to the floor, softening, showing the wound he'd been bearing in his heart. Ganondorf felt... more than a little exasperated, but he'd known the boy would be upset. Still... "Hold whatever grudge you wish against me, child, but do not share your ire with Hemisi. She didn't know about the attack. I suggested you two be near the mines that day for a reason."

Link sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

"The fighting is over," Ganondorf emphasized, putting weight in his voice to end this pointless adolescent moping. Then he smiled. "And now the world can know your place in our family."

The boy glanced up, hope shimmering in crimson orbs, tempered by an intelligence he often hid behind innocence and silence. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I attack?"

"No. Why did you give up?"

"I don't give up," Ganondorf retorted a little irritatedly, pausing his ministrations.

"I know," Link immediately acknowledge firmly. "So why? You don't acknowledge defeat."

"Oh, Link," Ganondorf hummed with gentle amusement, proud of the boy's insight. He was going to make a good prince. But it would make the next months a little difficult if the king wasn't careful. "A strong warrior refuses to give up, but a wise one knows when he is defeated. I am both. It's pointless to fight a force you cannot win against."

Link still looked skeptical, confused. Ganondorf added, "How else could we build peace for you and Hemisi?"

His words seemed to catch the boy off guard. For a moment, Ganondorf really wondered if Link didn't actually think they cared, despite having spent over a year being welcomed into the family. For a moment, the king wondered if the boy really was that dull, or somehow he and his wife hadn't done something right. And then Link bit his lip, shivering, and hugged himself, clearly trying to contain emotion and not quite succeeding.

Ganondorf sighed, letting the boy be vulnerable for a moment. He pulled him close, and Link sank into the embrace, curled in against his chest.

Link would be a good prince. Ganondorf knew this. He just needed to hone the boy a little more, reassure him and teach him, let him enjoy his time with Hemisi. A war was brewing soon. It was best to enjoy this time while he could.

[son1c]

What would Sonic have done if Shadow stayed catatonic for a while ?

"for awhile" could mean anything. 5 minutes? 5 hours? 5 days??? regardless of how long it was, sonic wouldn't have just left him there on that tiny island all alone

[vaguely-concerned]

first of all rye 'hello fellow kids' ingellvar there is nothing in this world or any other I wouldn't do for you. second of all, considering where this story ends... I'm going to die. this conversation -- and how much he genuinely believes what he's saying at this point -- held up against the fact that in a couple of months max he's going to get her killed (well. that's how he feels anyway) and then go against everything she believed in and stood for as a person in the end and have to live forever with knowing that's how he honoured her sacrifice. (and live with how easy it is to live with, the way he doesn't regret what he did at all. she'll haunt him from time to time, that's fine, he's a watcher he's loved many a ghost before and will again. but that won't.) 'no one is beyond help? oh lace I'm so so sorry, wherever you are now please forgive me for who I am, but after what he pulled and by the time I'm done with him on my watcher's oath he will be beyond help. I'll hold every hand in this world that reaches back but his'. and she'll still be gone.

'or none of this matters'. im so fucking sad I feel sick *through tears* this is great I love fiction I love this game (embarrassingly genuine as is my wont)

[transgender-catboy]

God, he looks downright exhausted here...