#I might draw the other sweet & sour team members too..

[ange--lique]

prince & miseng rkgk 👑🌸

[kryptonian-puppy]

Throat Full of Glass

The rough sound of nail scratching against marble rings out through the washroom.

Eliza stares herself down in the mirror, lip trembling and arms shaking from the post-match adrenaline that's coursing through her body right now. 

There’s a fire in her eyes and rage on her skin that's tangible in the air, mixing with a rusted tang of blood that’s congealed against her ear as she just stands there, rooted and willing herself to calm down. 

The reflected image twists and contorts with each unsteady breath that she takes, the splash of each droplet of water that drips from the tap matching the pace of her lungs. 

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Like a ticking clock. The prelude to the explosion. 

She can’t let it slide this time, let her get away with this. Her mind has cashed its last rain check on Kali’s bullshit. It’s time the woman faces the wrath that's due, before she gets someone killed, gets her own team killed. 

No biting her tongue anymore, brawling across the briefing room table or petitioning Six to see sense and dispose of the threat that is Nighthaven.

She’s done playing nice.

And sure enough, outside the door comes the muffled bragging of the soon to be victim of Eliza’s snapped tether. 

Ash pushes off from the sink with aching fists held closed and nails biting into her palm, giving herself one last chance to just back off, to simply walk away from what she’s about to do. 

But if there is any sign to stop she doesn't see it. Her reflection in the mirror steadies but offers up no rejection. The fight or flight wheel stops with the arrow pointing on the former. 

This has been too long coming now to just stop. 

Consequences from Six be damned, Eliza leaves the washroom and lets the heavy firedoor swing shut behind her with a loud thud. Eyes lock to hers in an instant from the sound, but she pays them no mind, her gaze settles on her target and tunnels her vision. 

“This won’t be good, Cohen looks ready to kill.” 

Dokkabei mutters under her breath to Thatcher, the elder operator nodding thickly in agreement and making no move to stop what's about to happen. 

“Don’t worry kid, it won’t go that far.”

Dokkabei just holds her arms together to stop them trembling, the pain from being lit up with non-lethal fire is still raging throughout her body otherwise she would be falling into line with Ash right now to give Kali a piece of her mind too. She deserves it after that shitshow of a win.  

The two simply watch on in tense silence as Eliza thunders across the changing room and shoves past Mozzie,  the man distracted from helping Mira out of her BDU at the time. He swears loudly from the rough contact, barely able to stop himself from careening into Elena who is more focused on trying to get past him to stop Eliza rather than help steady him. 

She’s seen that look in Cohen’s eyes before, it’s never good.

“Kali!” Ash spits, enough venom in just that one word to slay a man where he stood. 

Kali has her back to her and mutters something to Aruni which makes the woman laugh. 

“You will turn and face me when I address you, Mercenary scum!” 

A tense silence settles over the room, marred only by the sounds of Ash’s heavy breathing.

But Kali just continues to chuckle, shaking her head a little at the crass words, rolling her eyes at Aruni. It’s only when she can physically feel the presence of Ash in her personal space that she turns around, quite lazilly too, and looks down to the smaller woman who is seething up at her. 

“What could possibly be upsetting you now Red?” 

“I don’t know how you do things in the private sector-” her voice trembles a little, rage barely even contained, “-but we do NOT use people as bait here!”

“Why the sour face Princess? This is a game, and I just won it for you.” Kali smirks, brow quirked in clear amusement. “Rather easily I might add to.” 

“This, this is not a game you ignorant, reckless piece of-”

“Oh relax will you!”

“Relax?!” Ash scoffs, fists shaking violently against her sides. “I warned Six that you’ll get someone killed. And today you just proved me right. Game or no fucking game, I won’t stand by and let you send anyone here to an early grave because you only care about yourself.”

“So dramatic! Like it or not, Nighthaven is here to stay. I am here to stay. And there is nothing, not one little thing, that you can do about it. So finish your little temper tantrum and stop embarrassing yourself.”

Kali quips, one finger pushing against the crest of Ash’s chest plate. 

And that's all it takes. 

A finger, mistakenly brushing against the trigger, and Ash explodes. 

No one can stop her, it happens too fast for anyone to register, least of all Kali. 

One moment she’s staring down at Ash, the next she’s looking up at her from the floor, haphazardly strewn against one of the benches. Arms are on her in an instant trying to help her up, but the punch from the fiery field team leader has sent her head to the stars, she can’t hear a thing past the ringing in her ear. 

And Eliza doesn’t stop there, she lunges at her with all the ferocity of a wild animal and the strength of an ox. Ready and willing to unleash the last year of pent up anger and frustration and pummel it into her face.

The two crash backwards and roll about, punching and lashing at each other like it's a fight for their lives. And by all odds Kali should have the upperhand against the woman with a smaller frame, but Ash brings a fight like no other she’s ever faced, and for the first time since she was shot in the field, Kali experiences fear.

She cries out in anguish, managing to land a shot that busts Eliza’s nose open and unleashes a fountain of blood. But it doesn’t slow the woman, she keeps going for her, scoring hit after hit until the wind is taken from Kali’s lungs and she’s choking on the air and her own blood. 

“ELIZA, THAT’S ENOUGH!” 

Rough arms yank her from Kali’s barely conscious form and she fights hard to get back to her before she feels herself be lifted up from the ground, legs swinging and kicking violently to try and break free. 

There’s yelling all around and people rushing to block her view from Kali, but she can still make out her face and somehow Kali is still managing a smug grin up at her, it’s marred by all the blood and bruising but still going strong. 

Ash screams bloody murder, wriggling and throwing herself about, but whoever holds her is strong and they don’t let go. 

“Get her out of here!” Thatcher calls back over his shoulder as he gets between Dokkaebi and Aruni, the two seemingly squaring up to fight. 

It would seem in the chaos of Ash and Kali’s brawl the rest of the Nighthaven members had initiated a fight, with some of Rainbow all too eager to oblige.

“Follow me!” Mira gestures to Finka who is the one struggling to hold Ash whilst looking for the quickest exit. 

The rest is just a blur for Ash though, she’s so blinded and entombed by her own rage that she doesn’t even notice she’s being taken from the room, half carried/half dragged out of the changing room and somehow making it to the medical wing in the blink of an eye. 

Her gaze is wide, adrenaline still begging her to fight even though the threat is no longer in sight, she doesn’t even hear what Mira is saying to Finka right now. 

“Where do you want her?” The woman chuckles, keeping her head back to avoid a blow from Eliza’s. 

“Put her in the examination room, I’ll take it from there. I suspect Mike is going to need your help stopping them all from tearing each other to pieces.” Mira commands, her own voice shaky from what she’s just witnessed. 

She curses Six under her breath and pinches the bridge of her nose.

Eliza continues to fight to get out of Finka’s grasp, only succeeding once Finka has struggled to get her past the threshold of the room door. But when she goes to charge back out in search of Kali again, Mira stands in her way, hands on her hips and concern very much evident in her expression. 

Ash comes to a halt immediately, eyes wide in a mix of rage and fear, hands still held tightly wound by her side and the shaking somehow more violent than when it first started. She’s a complete mess, blood dripping from her likely broke nose down her chest, hair disheveled and gear shifted out of place, ripped straps hanging awkwardly off her body from where Kali got a hold of them.

Neither her or Mira say anything until Finka closes the door behind her and leaves them to deathly silence. 

Mira lowers her hands to her side and just waits, quietly watching her wife struggle to take in breaths as her brain catches up to what she’s done. 

And after a tense minute or so of glaring at her, the fire goes out of Cohen, Eliza whimpering from the pain and turning in on herself as her body comes out of it. 

“What have I done …” She breathes out, cradling her own stomach and willing it to settle so she doesn’t hurl. Already she can feel the bruises forming on her ribs and abdomen.

“What you had to, querida.” Elena affirms, breathing a sigh of relief now she knows it's safe to approach the woman she loves. 

Sure, she’s seen Eliza angry before, but that was something completely different that she had with Kali, a power born from something deep rooted and likely traumatic, something they’ll definitely have to talk about soon. It terrified her to see that, almost making her flee from the woman herself until she remembered just who Eliza was, how sweet and gentle the woman she married actually was behind her guarded walls. 

Oh they’ll talk alright about this, just not now. Right now Eliza needs gentle care.  

Elena lets out a soft sigh and very slowly encircles Eliza with her arms, giving the woman time to accept the embrace or reject it if that's what she needs, being careful not to aggravate any injury also. 

And sure it takes a moment, Eliza stiffening from the contact and starting to pull away, but Elena stands firm, drawing her in and acting as an anchor for the taller woman. She has no choice really but to give in, all but collapsing against Elena now who falls back a little and slides down the door and onto the floor, somehow managing to keep hold of Eliza the entire time. 

“It’s ok, you’re ok.” Elena murmurs, running her hand through the length of her hair, deft fingers working through the knots and loosening the braid. 

Eliza shudders in relief, quietly sobbing and heaving her way through every breath as she clings to Elena with battered hands, seemingly terrified that the woman will let her go if she doesn’t keep such a tight grip. 

“I shouldn’t have- I could- could have killed her!” 

“But you didn’t.” 

There's a further moment of silence, Eliza shuddering as Elena works wonders on her aching head. Each stroke is soft and gentle, applying just enough pressure to relieve the budding headache that's rising up to join the chorus of pain wracking through her.

“I wanted to, Elena. I couldn’t stop myself.” She whispers after a few more minutes pass. 

“But you didn’t kill her querida. Kali will be fine. This will all blow over.” Mira tries to affirm, voice gentle as ever despite the uncertainty. 

“It won’t though, it can’t … not after this. Six will-”

“Don’t you worry about him. I will deal with Six.”  

Again, more silence. They stay like that for a long while, just quietly breathing and taking in the comfort of the embrace, Elena discreetly counting each breath her wife takes and placing gentle kisses against her forehead when they finally slow down enough after what feels like half an hour or so.

“It felt good though, right?” Elena murmurs, failing to keep the amusement from her tone as she breaks the silence.

“Are you asking me if it felt good to punch Kali?”

“Well, yeah …”

Eliza pulls away and looks up at her in confusion, the two quietly studying each other before Eliza’s face finally cracks, both dissolving into mad laughter that's fueled by the residual adrenaline.

“God, that fear in her eyes when you toppled her with one hit. It was glorious.” Elena grins. 

But Eliza groans, burying her head into Elenas chest and trying/failing to suppress the smile. 

“It was satisfying to wipe that smirk from her face, if only for a moment.”

“I’ll bet.” 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at me? I expected a lecture?”

“I thought about it, but I’d be a hypocrite since on more than one occasion i’ve threatened the bitch with the same thing myself.”

“Quite a few occasions actually, last week was twice at least.”

The laughter returns, softer this time and fleeting.

“You think she’ll try to press charges or something?” Eliza sighs.

“Hmmm,” Elena deliberates for a moment, “I doubt it, Six wouldn’t let it come to that. Though, I would love to be a fly on the wall when he calls you both to his office.” 

Eliza groans, it’s not going to be fun dealing with the consequence of this shit, but at least she can pull the ‘told you so’ card on Six. So maybe it was worth it after all?

“That’s not going to be fun.”

“Nope.”

Eliza lets out a long suffering sigh, groaning when her ribs protest that but strangely not the laughter. 

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You’re a bloodied mess.” Elena scoffs, nose wrinkling in feigned disgust.

“What? Don’t find me pretty anymore?” Eliza pouts, the effect lost by how gnarly she is looking in that moment covered in blood. 

“Hmph! Pretty annoying more like.” Elena quips back, devilish smile on her lips. 

“Rude.”

Despite how rough she feels, Eliza can’t help herself, she pushes their mouths together, wincing when her ailing nose brushes Elena’s. They kiss, soft at first, getting a little more heated when Eliza’s hands start to wonder, lowering to her chest and lifting up under her-

“Ouch!” 

Elena just sighs gently, pulling away and rolling her eyes at Eliza who is looking at the bruises on her hands with a frown. 

“Right, up! Let’s see if we can save something of that face of yours.” Elena cups her chin, smearing a little of the blood with a gentle sigh. 

“Yes, the pain is outweighing the satisfaction at the moment.” 

“I’m sure it is …, I love you, even if you are an idiot.” 

“Love you too.”

[written-on-the-trees]

Silver Linings In Winter Clouds - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Prompt: Nativity Play (very, very loosely)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2100 words (I know, okay, it got away from me)

Summary: High-school AU. Colson is almost one-hundred per-cent sure that there was no punishment worse than having to join the drama club for their Christmas play, even one of the other members is possibly the cutest girl he's ever seen...

Colson had thought he had experienced the worst of his school’s punishments for bad behavior, having been in detention almost every week since he could remember, but he had been wrong.

   So, so wrong.

   He stared in horror at the carnage unfolding in front of him, and wondered if the punishment for bailing on this punishment could really be any worse than what he was currently facing.

 Sure, he might get suspended or something…but he wasn’t really sure that was any worse than being forced to take part on the drama club’s Christmas play. His dad would absolutely flip his shit, but he’d be able to pick up some extra shifts at work, and he’d get out of the fucking nightmare that was this drama club bullshit.

 Colson was more than ready to take his chances, when Mr. Greene, the drama teacher, saw him frozen in the doorway to the practice room, and cheerfully called out to him:

   “Mr. Baker! So glad you could make it.”

   Too late to escape now.

   Unwilling to lose face by running (or even walking) away now everyone was looking at him, Colson curled his lip in disdain and stepped further into the room.

 He wasn’t a coward.

 Disgusted by all this theatre shit, but not a coward.

 It was exactly the kind of attitude they were expecting from him, so it wasn’t long before they were all going back to focusing on that they had been doing before Mr. Greene had drawn everyone’s attention to him. Knowing Greene, it was probably a deliberate way of irritating Colson - the guy was just like that - but unfortunately that didn’t mean Colson could avoid him. Greene was the only one who could sign off on Colson’s report that documented him actually being here…and he was also the only one who could give Colson a job to do, because Colson sure as hell wasn’t taking any initiative with this shit.

 The less effort he could put in, the better. It was bad enough that people were going to think he was one of the drama nerds (albeit unwillingly), he refused to give anyone even an inkling that he was enjoying or being proactive about being part of this.

 As it was, Greene sent him over to work with the group of kids working on the scenery, muttering something about putting his height to good use. Colson had never been so grateful to be a lanky motherfucker as he was right then, walking over to where four girls and two guys were leant over various bits of paper, arguing between themselves.

   “Hey…apparently I’m meant to be helping out over here.” Colson announced to get their attention, watching as all six of them looked up from the paper and had six different reactions.

   Brendan, always the drama queen, threw his hands up and stormed away while muttering about not wanting to deal with ‘the white trash kid in detention’. His twin sister, Ellie, smiled apologetically and went after him to calm him down. Willow looked a little nervous, which was understandable since the last time she’d seen him he had been kicking the shit out of her older brother. Cameron beamed friendlily and welcomed him to the team. Darren just smiled.

 And then there was Belle.

 Colson had to stop himself from staring as she smiled at him, the soft, somehow glowing expression one he’d never had directed at him before.

 She looked so gorgeous, standing there in her black denim dungarees and white t-shirt with the small splotch of pink paint on the shoulder and with the paint and ink stains on her hands, Colson felt like he almost swallowed his own tongue. She just looked so…soft, so sweet, like some kind of paint-stained Christmas angel.

 He was instantly in love with her.

   I’m so screwed…

      Being in regular contact with Belle was doing nothing to stop Colson feeling like he was doomed – because if their first meeting had been difficult, with Colson feeling like he was tripping over his words every time he spoke to her (although thankfully she seemed not to have notices his sudden incompetence when it came to speech), then the second was basically excruciating.

 The thing was, Belle was nice.

 Genuinely, altruistically, nice.

 Unlike Brendan, who sneered at Colson every time he spoke, or Willow and Darren who were still a bit jumpy around him, Belle always took time to not just say hello when he showed up, but actually ask how his day had been and then listen when he responded - however flippant his responses were.

 She laughed at his jokes, and shut Darren up when Colson saw a bit of scenery design so blatantly stupid he had to suggest it be changed - because even if he was going to be part of this fiasco, he wasn’t going to have his name associated with anything so dumb as the fake graffiti Brendan had drawn on the plans.

 Modern take on the Christmas Nativity scene or not, there was no need for that bullshit.

   Colson hadn’t really expected anyone to take his side, even when he explained why he didn’t like it, but then Belle had nodded and said: “That’s a fair point - what would you suggest we do instead?”

 “Like, speak to someone who maybe knows how to do that graffiti shit?” Colson asked.

 “I’m sure you have a whole list of degenerate friends to recommend - ” Brendan sneered, but Belle cut him off:

 “Great idea, Colson. I know exactly who to ask.”

      On the day of their third meeting, Belle walked into the room five minutes later than Colson, with a familiar face trailing after her.

 Dom was a kind-of friend of Colson’s in the same way he was a kind-of friend with everyone in this school; he just had one of those personalities. He went to the same parties as Colson and his friends, wrote stories that had him in good standing with the English Lit kids, and apparently spent a lot of his art classes working next to Belle.

 He also was well known for creating various pieces of artwork all over any walls he got get to without being seen. His fingers were constantly stained with spray paint.

   Colson was a little bit surprised to see him, but still happy to chat while the others were distracted: “Hey man, I didn’t know you got involved with this shit.”

 “I don’t, normally. Mr. Greene hates me.” Dom laughed loudly - and drawing a furious expression out of Greene: “But Belle’s sound, and she asked me to ‘consult’, so here I am.”

   Colson shouldn’t be surprised that other people thought Belle was a good person - or ‘sound’ as Dom put it - and, when he thought about it, he wasn’t.

 He just surprised at how in love he was with her after just two meetings.

   I’m so unbelievably screwed…

      After a week of planning sessions, Belle took Colson to the art cupboard to help her gather supplies for painting the scenery Willow and Cameron were currently drawing out back on the stage of the school theatre.

 He wasn’t much use; standing outside with a big cardboard box in his arms while Belle actually found everything they had been sent out to go and get, but Belle didn’t seem to mind all that much…

   “I’m just so glad I don’t have to lug it all back by myself, or with Darren.” she confided in him while putting some pots of brightly coloured paint in the box he was holding: “Don’t tell him I said it, but you’ve got a lot more muscles than he does.”

 Colson knew she was only being friendly…but that didn’t stop him from winking at her: “Thanks, I worked hard for them.”

 “And they’re very nice, too.” Belle laughed, clearly taking his response as a joke…but Colson didn’t mind her missing him flirting with her.

   He’d seen her looking at his arms.

 She hadn’t just been teasing.

 Colson wasn’t the only one

      On opening night, Colson was hanging out backstage, leaning against a wall and waiting for his cue to help move the scenery about on stage. They had to keep it down, as to not be heard over ‘Marine’ and ‘Joey’ dramatically bemoaning that there was no room at the inn – in rhyming couplets (Colson was seriously glad he hadn’t been put with the kids writing the script for this punishment, he might have actually punched someone), but it was still…alright.

 Brendan was still a dick, obviously, but Willow had warmed up enough to offer him some sour patch kids from the bag she, Ellie, Belle, and Cameron were sharing (which was more than she’d offered Brendan - which Colson was taking as a major win), and Belle was leaning against the wall next to him, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black button-down shirt like the rest of them, with her chocolate-coloured hair smoothed into a sleek twist, and her skin free of paint.

 Honestly, Colson kind of missed the paint stains…but he had to admit he wasn’t ungrateful to be seeing the smokey eyeshadow and deep red lipstick she’d put on for when they went out on stage to take their bow after the play was over.

 After a month of spending anywhere between one and three hours a day with her, Colson could safely say he’d never wanted anyone more than he wanted Belle.

 She was…indescribable. Literally; he didn’t have all the words to describe her properly, and Colson prided himself on being eloquent. He adored everything about her: from the fact she was constantly sketching in a notebook just as he always had scraps of paper to write down anything he thought might sound good in a song, the way she was quick to laugh and even quicker to smile, and the fact that she was always willing to give someone a chance, no matter how disdainful they were when she met them.

 Yeah, he was talking about himself.

 Belle had been nice to him, even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when, to make sure everyone knew he was no coward, he’d acted like a dick.

 Well, Colson still wasn’t a coward…so tonight, after they’d all taken their bow and shit, he was going to ask Belle if she wanted to go out with him at some point over the Christmas break. Just the thought was terrifying, but if she noticed anything, she was kind enough not to mention it as they waited around backstage, or as they moved scenery as required, or when they went out and took their bow with the script writers, the kid who’d done the lighting and sound effects, the kids who’d make the costumes.

 She just…carried on making normal conversation, and didn’t seem to mind when Colson’s responses were a little halting and disjointed. She didn’t even say anything when they were heading out of the back of the auditorium after most of the audience had left, and Colson was trailing after her, feeling a little like a lost puppy…

 He felt like an idiot, so when she paused just before she was about to say goodbye, Colson blurted out:

   “Hey, Belle, I know we probably won’t be seeing each other much now my detention in theatre club is over, since if I stick around I might get kicked out for finally punching Brendan like he deserves, but I was wondering if…maybe you wanted to go out over winter break? Like, on a date?”

 Belle looked surprised for a few seconds, and Colson’s heart dropped…but then she grinned, fishing a pen out of her pocket and scrawling her number on the back of his hand, before leaning up to press her lips against his cheek: “I’d love to. Text me to work something out?”

 “I’d love to…” Colson echoed, feeling a little dazed from the kiss…but still overjoyed.

   Belle laughed gently, before ducking out when someone called for her.

 Colson waited a few seconds in the room, probably smiling like an idiot, before heading out too.

   Slim and Rook were waiting for him just outside the doors, the grins on the faces confirming that they had heard everything Colson and Belle had said, with Slim greeting Colson with a congratulatory grin: “So, bro, how do we sign up next year? I’m thinking I need a way to find me a hot girl…”

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 11

this old heart darlin’ is weak for you

summary:  what if riza never went to war?  riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

chapter 10 | read on ao3

1911

 i love you

this old heart darlin’ is weak for you

Their holiday was a welcome break from their usual busy lives and while they’d both missed Mia terribly, they had to admit that it was nice not having to look after a toddler all day.

The next week was a complete blur. Riza’s teaching classes could be done from home. She had to attend the East City University in the morning to collect her paperwork for the day, which was a welcome exercise because the walk to the university meant Riza could give Mia her mid-morning nap. Then, she had two days to complete whatever she’d been given by her professor. It was a system that worked and Riza just hoped it always would. 

At this pace she’d be a qualified teacher in two years. It was an exciting concept. Riza loved Mia, but she didn’t want to be a stay at home mother her whole life. She became restless after being in their apartment for too long, longing to go out and see what the city had to offer her that day. Riza wanted to learn and explore. There was so much knowledge out there in the world and so many places to see. Riza, now with the freedom she’d craved her whole childhood, wanted to see it all. Taking Mia along for the ride made it even more enjoyable.

The weekend after their short getaway, they found themselves in East City Town Hall, at a military ball. Roy was required to go and Riza was interested to see what this kind of party was about. She expected there to be stuck up big wigs in the military parading about with their medals, and Roy told her she wouldn’t be far off. It was a lot of sucking up to the higher echelon of the military, and the thought left a sour taste in Riza’s mouth. She’d heard some stories from Roy when he’d been venting after work. The higher ups didn’t seem to be particularly pleasant company to keep.

“They’re not,” Roy told her, buttoning up his shirt in the mirror in their bedroom. “But I have to go. Having you there would make the whole experience infinitely better. Plus, everyone is dying to meet you.”

“Everyone?” Riza asked, raising an eyebrow while she secured the necklace around her neck. She didn’t normally wear jewellery however Roy had been very sweet and surprised her with the necklace as a gift this morning. He’d bought it for her to wear to the ball, and she couldn’t turn it down. It was beautiful, but simple in design. Just how she liked things. It was a spontaneous gift from Roy and that was all it took for her to love it.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Everyone in the team is convinced you aren’t real and that I’m making you up.”

“Why?” she asked, amused.

Roy shrugged, then grinned. “I don’t think they believe that I could’ve ever secured a woman as lovely as you.” He kissed her temple as he passed, brushing his hand along her waist gently as he entered their bathroom and closed the door.

“The feeling is mutual, by the way.”

There was a pause, then the sound of the toilet flushing. After he’d washed his hands, Roy’s head poked out the door as he dried them on a towel. “You don’t believe in how amazing you are?”

Riza shook her head with a fond smile. “No. Well, yes, but not the point I was trying to make. I don’t believe how lucky I am to have fallen in love with you,” she clarified.

“Don’t ever think you’re not the most incredible person on the planet.” He hung up the towel before approaching. He gripped her waist gently while Riza wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. “And I’m the same. I can’t believe I’m so lucky.”

Chris was in town for the weekend to visit, so she’d taken Mia off their hands to spend some time with her granddaughter. Mia adored Chris Mustang, which was strange given the latter’s personality, however she was a completely different person with Mia. She loved her granddaughter unconditionally, and it showed in everything she did for her. Riza’s stomach dropped when she saw just how many gifts Chris had bought for Mia for this visit. In her mind, she mentally searched their apartment for where they’d store them all.

A taxi took them to the Town Hall. It was a subdued ride. Roy chatted with the driver while Riza gazed into the streets of East City. It wasn’t often she got to drive anywhere in the city. Whenever her and Roy went out, they always walked. It was mesmerising to watch the lights flash by as they flew along the road.

“Hey, boss!” a portly ginger man greeted them from afar. He called across the room towards them, offering Roy a wave. A blonde head popped up above everyone else, scanning the room for Roy. Upon spotting them, his eyes widened and his head ducked. He disappeared from view.

“Come on,” Roy urged, steering Riza towards the members of his team. Nerves tickled her stomach as they approached as it always did when she was introduced to someone new. Roy had stated there were four people in his team, so meeting four new people made it slightly worse.

“Hey!” the first man greeted enthusiastically with a wide grin. He glanced over to the blonde man beside him while wearing a rather smug look on his face, then turned his attention back to them both.

“Hey, Breda,” Roy greeted before turning to face her. “This is Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda,” he introduced, gesturing towards the ginger man. Lieutenant Breda grinned and offered Riza his hand, which she took.

“Nice to meet you,” Riza smiled.

“Likewise, Mrs. Mustang,” he beamed. The title was far too formal for her liking, but from the glint in his eye, Riza guessed it was for the benefit of the blonde man who was glaring at him. She glanced between them both, resisting the urge to raise an eyebrow at their antics.

“Please, just call me Riza,” she offered. The smirk dropped from his face, and Lieutenant Breda’s smile was genuine this time.

“Of course.”

“This,” Roy announced, moving onto the next member of his team, gesturing to the blonde man who snapped out of his glare hurriedly. “Is Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. Don’t mind the glare or sullen look,” Roy added smoothly, making direct eye contact with Lieutenant Havoc. “He’s probably lost a bet with Breda over something. Ignore him.”

“Hey,” he muttered quietly but indignantly.

“This is Warrant Officer Vato Falman.” A grey-haired man took her hand and shook it firmly. Before being introduced his face had been a picture of seriousness, but now he smiled at Riza warmly.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.”

“And this is Sergeant Kain Fuery.” The last member of the team looked young – almost too young – with black hair styled in a boyish look. His glasses rose as a smile overtook his whole face. It lit up the room with its warmth, and Riza took a liking to the young man.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he greeted enthusiastically. She liked Sergeant Fuery. He seemed very sweet.

“Likewise, to all of you.”

“What would you like to drink?” Roy asked her.

“A wine would be lovely, thank you.”

“I’ll get it, Ma’am,” Lieutenant Havoc interrupted. He looked slightly sheepish, and she supposed this was his way of making it up to them over whatever had stirred up the one-sided glaring match between him and Lieutenant Breda. “Don’t worry about it, Boss. I’ll be right back.”

“That was… Unexpected,” Roy stated, blinking after Lieutenant Havoc.

Lieutenant Breda snorted. “Havoc didn’t believe you’d actually married someone. He was convinced it was fake. A whole scam,” he chuckled. “It would’ve been elaborate if it had been, however, I don’t think you’re that smart to pull it off.”

“Hey,” Roy frowned indignantly.

Lieutenant Breda shrugged, but his grin remained.

“It’s a likely conclusion Breda arrived at, Sir,” stated Warrant Officer Falman. “It would require a whole lot of planning and backtracking that even a normal person would struggle and fail completely with it.”

“Thanks… I think.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Sergeant Fuery interrupted their conversation, drawing Riza’s attention away from her husband and his two colleagues. “They do this all the time. It’s all good fun.” Riza found herself smiling.

Sergeant Fuery gave off a very “little brother” vibe, and Riza felt the pull towards it. She thought he would be someone she’d get on well with. She wasn’t quite so sure about the other three yet, but wasn’t one to jump to conclusions. She’d give Lieutenants Havoc and Breda the benefit of the doubt. Warrant Officer Falman seemed perfectly cordial and friendly though, like Sergeant Fuery. He seemed very intelligent, and Riza wondered if they would have any deep and interesting conversations at any point. Roy wasn’t unintelligent by any means, but his focus was alchemy and military strategy and that was it. He had no interest in subjects that weren’t a science. Riza was fascinated by the world, and often wondered aloud why things were the way they were. If Roy had an answer, he would tell her, but the beauty of the world lost some of its wonder when a scientific theory had been applied to it. Riza was undeterred though. She still loved that about him. She’d often sit and watch the cogs work in his head as he tried to figure something out, or how he passionately described how something worked. She’d find herself falling in love with him all over again.

Lieutenant Havoc returned with their drinks and offered them to her and Roy. He gave her an apologetic smile as he approached. “Sorry for the glare earlier. I hope you didn’t think it was directed at you.”

Riza shook her head. “Not at all.”

Lieutenant Havoc let out a sigh of relief, and Riza found herself smiling behind her glass, amused. Bless him. “Okay, good. Breda can be an asshole sometimes and likes to rub it in my face when he wins.”

“What did he win?” Riza asked innocently. It was comical the way his face fell. Lieutenant Havoc glanced towards her briefly, then away, swallowing hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat nervously.

“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way,” he began, turning her away from the rest of the group. He placed a hand on her shoulder, walking a few steps away. She resisted the urge to shrug it off and went with him, too intrigued to pass the opportunity up.

“Havoc?” Roy called behind them. The hand left her shoulder, and Riza watched as he waved Roy off irritably. This was still very entertaining to Riza. It was adorable the way Lieutenant Havoc’s face had turned slightly pink in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. I’ll start with that,” Lieutenant Havoc stated. He downed his drink – it looked like whisky – and placed the glass not so gently on the table next to them. He looked incredibly nervous, and like he didn’t want to offend her. “But Breda and I made a bet that Mustang had made you up.”

“Oh?” Riza asked, raising an eyebrow. She only just managed to hide her smile by taking another drink. Who would have the time to craft an entirely fictional wife and child, and then have the patience to maintain that for a year and a half?

“Yeah.” Lieutenant Havoc coughed to clear his throat. “I’m sorry. He never really mentioned you, but we saw a wedding photo. I thought it was some wife he’d lost years ago. From the way he’d handled it, it certainly seemed that way.”

Now that was interesting. Just how did Roy handle their wedding photo in the office?

“What do you mean?” she asked before she could think, her curiosity getting the better of her. She hadn’t meant to ask out loud, but she was interested to know the kind of person Roy was at work around these men.

Lieutenant Havoc shifted on the spot. “Oh. Well, uh, he would always be so careful with it. He would never show anyone and wouldn’t bring it up, but I caught him a few times smiling at it when he was alone.” Lieutenant Havoc paused and shot her a genuine smile. “I must say, Ma’am, from the way he smiles at that photo, he loves you a lot.”

Riza felt warmth spread across her whole entire body. A smile slowly spread across her face, and she nodded. “I feel the same way about him.”

Lieutenant Havoc grinned. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re real and still among the living.”

Riza chuckled at him. “Thank you, Lieutenant Havoc.”

“Just Havoc, Ma’am,” he grinned.

“Then it’s just Riza for me too.” His grin was infectious. She liked him. He was a bit of a goofball, he didn’t seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was open and honest. Plus, if Roy had hand picked him, then he must be loyal. From the way he spoke, Riza could tell Havoc had a lot of respect for Roy. That was probably why he’d apologised to her immediately. Riza could respect that about him.

“What are you two talking about?” Roy asked with a grin, announcing his approach. Havoc stiffened slightly and Riza smirked to herself.

“Oh, nothing,” she waved off. “I was just telling Havoc about one of my lovely single friends that might be interested in him.”

Riza snorted, unable to hold in her laugh, when she saw Havoc’s spine straighten even further. His cheeks turned a light colour of pink.

“Wow, relax, Havoc. It’s a woman, not an eight-foot crocodile.”

“Excuse me,” Havoc muttered, shooting a glare at Roy, who just laughed at his misfortune.

“It was about the bet, wasn’t it?” Roy stated, slinging an arm around her shoulder. They walked towards the dance floor, Riza noticed. Excitement coursed through her veins at the thought she’d be able to dance with Roy again. It was one of her favourite past-times, being held close in his arms as they swayed together.

“It was, yes. Poor guy was genuinely apologetic. I respect that though.”

“Havoc’s the kind of guy that will bet on anything – and I mean anything – so it didn’t surprise me. I want to address that though –”

There was the quiet tinkling of someone hitting glass, followed by an announcement that dinner was about to be served.

“Ah,” Roy smiled at her. “After dinner then.”

Dinner was beautiful. The food was exquisite, and Riza was thankful that the company at the table was solely the men in Roy’s team. They bantered back and forth, which was captivating. Riza laughed so much during dinner that it took her an age to finish her meal. They were good men, and Riza was glad they all had Roy’s back. She often worried about him at work, going out on field missions and the like. It made her feel better to know these men were looking out for him.

They were incredibly loyal to him, and now, by extension, her. Havoc had announced that quite loudly – he was on the way to getting very drunk – and the rest of the team agreed, raising their glasses in a toast. Roy had just beamed at her, giving her hand a quick squeeze under the table. She supposed this was what he’d wanted all along – for them all to meet and get along so well. The fact she’d been so readily included in this little group made her happier than anyone would probably ever understand. She’d been on her own for so long as a child, then Roy came along and lit up her life. However, it had just been the two of them. Now, she had a plethora of people around her who were happy and willing to look out for her. It was a wonderful feeling.

On the dancefloor Roy twirled her around effortlessly. She felt like she was flying in his arms. She could dance, but he was much better at it than her. He’d taught her when they were growing up together, in stolen moments away from her father’s oppressive presence. It was a welcome reprieve from her monotonous evenings of cooking and cleaning up after Roy and her father.

“I love you,” Riza murmured as a smile spread across her face. Her arms were looped behind his neck, her fingertips playing with strands of his hair.

A loving smile broke out across Roy’s face. His eyes softened and he bent low to capture her lips with his own. She sighed into his kiss, embracing the love he showed her. “I love you too.”

The memory of Havoc’s confession floated through her mind at that moment, broadening her smile.

“I must say, ma’am, from the way he smiles at that photo, he loves you a lot.”

“What?” Roy asked, noting how big her smile was.

“Nothing. I’m just happy to be with you.”

Roy hummed in agreement. He shifted his stance so that her body was pressed against his. Their cheeks rested against each other and when Roy spoke, his breath tickled her ear. It felt divine.

“I’m glad you’re here. These balls are always so boring.”

“You’ve been to more than one?” she asked, curious. She tried to think back to when he may have brought it up before but couldn’t find anything in her memory.

“Well, just one. It was after coming home from Ishval. It was a “celebration” of the war being over. It… Well, it wasn’t enjoyable in the slightest. Most of the time, Hughes and I just people watched. It was thrilling to watch the amount of ass kissing that went down that night. There were so many brown noses.”

Riza snorted, hard. She felt Roy laugh, the sound reverberating through her own body.

“It was nowhere near as good as tonight has been.”

Silence enveloped them, but it was Riza who broke it.

“I’m curious…” 

Roy hummed in reply. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about me?” 

Roy met her gaze. 

“I’m just wondering,” she reassured him.

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating his answer. “At first, I was told not to trust anyone by General Grumman. He’s kind of become my mentor over the years.” Riza resisted the urge to react to the news. She wasn’t even sure if Roy knew the General was her grandfather.

Was he here tonight? Riza wasn’t sure if she was ready to deal with that interaction just yet. She’d been told as a child there was bad blood between her grandfather and her father, so they cut ties and moved away. How would the General feel, knowing his granddaughter had married someone working so closely with him?

“So, I didn’t and kept my cards close to my chest. I know I can trust the boys, but everyone else…” His face screwed up. “There’s a very small pool of people that I can trust in East City Headquarters.”

“That sounds very paranoid, Roy.”

“With you on the line, I’m very paranoid about this kind of thing.”

Riza thought he’d be joking, even just a little bit, but when she pulled back to look at his face, she saw his expression was serious. While she was glad, it didn’t sit well with her. It spoke of danger.

“But,” Roy continued. “It’s been a few years and Grumman has filled me in on who’s best to avoid and who can be trusted. I became more comfortable with the idea. I never denied it when people asked, but I didn’t want to project it, just in case. Plus, I’m not Maes Hughes, screaming about my family every two seconds,” he chuckled. “I don’t want to irritate people so much they began to hate me,” he winked.

“No, and I don’t blame you,” Riza agreed with an amused smile.

Roy wasn’t one for making grand gestures for her in front of an audience, and that was because he knew she’d hate the attention on her like that. And if no one at his work knew he was married, that didn’t matter to her really. She’d just been curious. He showed her, and her alone, how he felt about her. Everyone else didn’t matter, so long as she knew how much he loved her.

“I’m proud, in a way, that you played it so smartly.”

“Yeah?” Roy asked, seemingly surprised at her admission.

She nodded. “Like you said, ‘with my family on the line, I’d be very paranoid too.’” Her voice dropped in volume, causing Roy to press his cheek gently back against hers so he could hear her. “What you’re planning on doing is dangerous, and while I don’t like it for obvious reasons, I’d never hold it against you. After what you went through and seeing how it has affected you, I don’t want it to happen to anyone again either.”

Roy pulled away. She was trapped in his eyes, but Riza didn’t mind. She never would when it came to him. Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a rush, her decision made.

“You’ve got a good, solid, team behind you. I see that, now. It makes it less frightening for me, knowing you have this support behind you,” she admitted. “Before, in my mind, it was you against the whole world, and it was terrifying. But I see now that there are a lot of people who support you. Not just the core team. I’ve overheard others talking tonight, at the bar and around the room. Some people here really like you, Roy. They look up to you, and it soothes my nerves a little to know that there’s a lot of people who have your back. It’s not just me doing all the work,” she smiled wryly.

“Yes, but you do the best job out of everyone,” he murmured as he hugged her close to his chest. Smiling, she patted his back twice, affectionately, as he gave her body a tight squeeze.

Her hand found its way to his cheek when he pulled back. His eyes poured out with love for her, and it thrilled her to see it.

“Of course, I do the best job,” she replied, as if it was obvious. It made him laugh, a grin playing over his lips.

“You really do. Maybe I didn’t bring you up before because I wanted to keep you all to myself,” he grinned cheekily. “Since you do such a good job, after all.”

Riza stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh again, but louder this time. His head tipped back slightly. It truly was a beautiful sight seeing Roy so carefree and happy. He deserved it.

The rest of the night was perfect. During the fast songs they took a break to return to the table with the men. They were greeted each time with enthusiasm and joy. She was goaded into telling them how she and Roy met. She kept some parts out. Her childhood experience was still very raw within her, and she didn’t feel like dragging the past back up. That was firmly behind her. The only thing that had been worth keeping from it had been Roy, and she was eternally thankful that she had.

Fuery – they’d all insisted on Riza calling them by their last names rather than their titles – asked what their wedding ceremony was like. Falman asked to see the ring, complimenting her stone and band, stating they were the perfect combination. Havoc bought them a round of drinks to celebrate their wedding, despite it being over two years ago. His reasoning was they’d all missed it, so now was as good a time as ever to make up for it. Breda agreed wholeheartedly and staggered after Havoc to order the drinks with them. As they walked, they slung their arms around each other’s shoulders, slapping each other on the back amicably.

They were a good bunch, these boys, and Riza was officially initiated as “one of the team” that night.

Rebecca finally found her shortly after their “wedding toast”.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, flopping down into the chair next to Riza. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Where have you been?” she accused.

“Right here,” she smiled. Rebecca was slightly drunk, her cheeks pink and flushed from the alcohol, but she wasn’t fully drunk. Riza had seen her drunk a few times, and this wasn’t it. This was “merry Rebecca” – the Rebecca who had no filter and no shame. Riza had envied her confidence from day one and strived to be as good as her someday. Since meeting the brunette, it had done wonders for her confidence. It was freeing, and Riza was very thankful. Rebecca had also taken Riza to the East City HQ shooting range, smuggling her in late at night like they were a couple of teenagers. Riza had learned to shoot in the forests outside her home as a child, and she was pleased to see that she hadn’t lost her touch over the years.

Rebecca had done so much for Riza since they’d met, and tonight may just be the night she repayed her big time. It might not, however it was worth taking the risk. Plus, she deserved a little fun.

“Have you met Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc?” Riza asked, gesturing towards the blonde man who was slouched in his chair at the table. He smirked over at her, upon hearing his name, but he froze when he spotted Rebecca.

“No, I haven’t,” Rebecca stated slowly, eyeing him carefully.

“Havoc, this is my friend, Rebecca. The lovely lady I was telling you about earlier?”

Rebecca snorted. “Lovely,” she muttered underneath her breath, as if offended to be referred to in such a way.

“Uh, yeah. I remember.” He seemed to have sobered up rather quickly, Riza noticed, amused. He sat up straighter in his chair, like a bird preening at the prospect of a mate.

“I’m anything but a lady tonight, my friend,” she stated boldly, rising from her chair and striding over to Havoc. He watched her like a deer caught in the headlights.

Riza snickered when she noticed Rebecca had put extra sway into her hips as she walked. “And have you been talking about me, Riza Mustang?” she accused good naturedly, casting her eyes back over her shoulder.

“You said you wanted to find yourself a good man,” she shrugged with a grin.

“You,” she commanded Havoc. “Come with me.”

“What?” he asked, looking quite terrified.

Rebecca grasped him by his biceps and lifted Havoc from the chair. He yelped, almost falling over in his haste. Then, with a coy look over her shoulder and a wink, she dragged him over to the dance floor.

“God, help him,” Roy stated, taking up the chair beside her, the one Rebecca had just vacated.

Riza chuckled. “I agree. He’ll have his hands full with that one.”

“It’ll be good for him,” Roy stated, as if he was a proud parent watching his child go on their first date. “Either way, it will be character building.”

Riza snorted. “Rebecca can be lethal. I hope he’s strong enough for it.”

“He’s a good man,” Roy stated, his tone taking on a surprising sincerity after all their joking. “He’ll be good for her, I think.”

It certainly seemed that way, because not even half an hour later, Riza spotted the two of them slipping out the ballroom, hand in hand. Riza grinned when she spotted it. She was happy for her friend. Havoc seemed like her type – tall, handsome, and probably with some cash to play about with. He was a military man, so that was a given.

That would be a conversation for later.

All in all, it was a wonderful night. They took a taxi home, more than buzzed from the alcohol. Both Roy and Riza whispered and giggled to each other in the back like a couple of teenagers. With excitement in his eyes, Roy led her up to their apartment with a grin, his hand gripping hers tightly as they ran up the stairs. Once inside, Riza locked the apartment door in anticipation, only to be backed up against it. Roy’s kisses were feverish as he slipped her jacket off her shoulders. Riza gave him the same treatment, ridding him of his tuxedo jacket and leaving it to fall in a heap on the floor. It was expensive, as all his clothes were, but Riza didn’t think he’d care. Not right now.

They stumbled their way to the bedroom, bumping against the walls and breaking apart to laugh. It made Riza feel young again. It was like they were newlyweds on their honeymoon.

Roy held her close as they drifted off, both spent. Riza gripped his hand tightly, smiling down at their joined hands.

“I love you,” he murmured sleepily into her hair. Riza smiled, feeling sleep tug at her tired body, enticing it into unconsciousness. If she gave in, her only regret would be cutting this beautiful moment short. She wanted to live in it forever.

“I love you too, Roy. So much that it leaves me breathless sometimes.” Her admission was bolder than usual, but it was the truth. It came right from her heart. The alcohol had managed to pry it out of her grasp, and Riza was glad. At that moment, it was something she wanted him to know.

Roy hummed happily behind her, adjusting his grip on her waist, tugging her tightly against him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What about Mia?” she yawned, letting out a quick laugh.

“That angel is the light of my life,” he stated, his speech broken as he began to drift off. “But you are the warmth.”

Riza smiled and settled back against him. His breathing evened, signalling he was asleep.

“And you are mine.”

[4seasonswithiu]

[TRANS] 190707 IU’s China Fanclub ‘OnlyU-IU China’ showers IU, her team and Hotel Del Luna staff with love and gifts

It was revealed on July 6 that IU’s China Fanclub ‘OnlyU-IU China’ (@onlyIUcn on twitter) sent a coffee truck, buffet catering service and many gifts to the set of Hotel Del Luna. OnlyIUcn then shared some details of the thoughtful presents that they prepared specially for IU, IU Team and Hotel Del Luna’s staff members.

“As soon as IU confirmed her role in ‘Hotel Del Luna’, our staff members started preparing for this fansupport which took us months of effort. Previously, we predicted that they would kick off the production in April so we prioritised IU’s birthday gift first (in May). Other than organising charity events, we chose GUCCI’s A Kiss from Violet perfumed oil from ‘The Alchemist’s Garden’ collection. This perfumed oil is said to emit the purest, nonirritant and long-lasting scent due to its significantly lower alcohol content as compared to other perfumes. Since this collection has yet to be launched in China, South Korea and Japan, so our Uaenas from ShenZhen travelled to Hong Kong to purchase it for IU. We chose this perfume because it’s violet scented and also symbolises our ‘flying kiss’ to IU.

The second birthday gift was carefully decided after taking Man Wol’s character into consideration, which is Diptyque’s limited edition ‘The Legend of the North’ series’ candles. We purchased Sapin de Lumiere (Pine Tree of Light) (Green) and Baume d’Ambre (Amber Balm) (blue) candles and candlestick to match with Man Wol’s aloof aura ^u^ What’s special about this series is that the candle jar is deigned by HERMES’ scarf designer.

Sapin de Lumiere (Pine Tree of Light) Candle – Green – This is a staple in all Diptyque Christmas candles. It carries the unmistakeable green scent of pine, warmed and evoking crisp air, pine cones and a freshness of pine needles.

Baume d’Ambre (Amber Balm) Candle – Blue – A warm, spicy scent of benzoin, lavender and vanilla. Not too strong, with a freshness of lavender.

'A Kiss from Violet’ and ‘The Legend of The North’ on set~

Our certificate of making donation, including common ingredients and necessities to the Welfare institue of Xuchang, Henan Province.

“To Miss IU Lee Jieun:

We have received 544 baby pampers, 100 boxes of colored pencils, 100 drawing blocks, 35 big bags of rice, 35 packs of flour, 24 bottles of oil with the total amounted to 6092.40 yuan from your China fans.

We hereby express our gratitude for your act of kindness!”

A Chinese poem about the moon for IU

Poem: The Moon Festival by Su Shi

When will the moon be clear and bright? With a cup of wine in my hand, I ask the blue sky. I don't know what season it would be in the heavens on this night. I'd like to ride the wind to fly home. Yet I fear the crystal and jade mansions are much too high and cold for me. Dancing with my moon-lit shadow, It does not seem like the human world. The moon rounds the red mansion stoops to silk-pad doors, Shines upon the sleepless Bearing no grudge, Why does the moon tend to be full when people are apart? People may have sorrow or joy, be near or far apart, The moon may be dim or bright, wax or wane, This has been going on since the beginning of time. May we all be blessed with longevity though far apart, We are still able to share the beauty of the moon together.

Even though we are thousands of miles and oceans (Yellow Sea) apart, nothing can stop us from surrendering our hearts to the full moon (Man Wol) C-Uaenas present president Jang Man Wol this poem And may the opening of Hotel Del Luna blossom 

*Yellow Sea is a marginal sea of the Pacific Ocean located between mainland China and the Korean Peninsula. *Full Moon is pronounced the same way as Man Wol in both Chinese and Korean.

밝은 달은 어느 때나 떠오를지 술잔을 잡고 하늘에 물어본다. 달 속에 있는 궁궐은 오늘밤은 어느 해인지 모르겠구나. 나는 바람을 타고 돌아가고자 하니 달 속의 궁궐이 높은 곳이라 추위를 견디지 못할까 두려워라. 일어나 춤추니 그림자도 따라 도는데 어찌 인간 세계와 비길 수가 있으랴 달그림자가 붉은 누각 빙 돌며 곱게 조각한 창문에 드리우니 달빛에 비추어져 잠을 이룰 수 없네. 더 이상 번뇌가 있을 수 없는데 무슨 일로 오래도록 이별할 때에 이렇게 둥근가? 인간에겐 슬픔과 기쁨, 이별과 만남이 있고 달은 흐리고 맑고, 둥글고 이지러짐이 있으니 이런 일은 예전부터 완전하기가 어려워라. 다만 바라기는 멀리 떨어져 있는 이가 오래 살아서 천 리 밖에서도 이 밝은 달을 함께 구경했으면.

Note: This is a famous Mid-Autumn lyric written by Sushi(a poet in Song Dynasty) for his brother Zi-you(1039-1112) when the poet was away from the imperial court. According to some commentators, "the palace on high" might allude to the imperial palace and therefore, after reading this lyric, Emperor Song Shen Zong said that Su Shi was loyal.

We also prepared Voluspa aromatherapy candles for IU Team and the staff of Hotel Del Luna.

Shuijingfang liquor for director Oh Choong Hwan.

Long Jing and Taiping Houkui tea for the Hong Sisters (scriptwriters)

As for actor Yeo Jin Goo, we prepared Scent Library X White Rabbit fragrance product gift set (perfume, hand cream, body lotion)

(We forgot to take a picture of the actual gift, but it’s within the black paper bag. The other bags included tea bags, liquor, candles and IU’s Gucci perfume)

For the Hotel Del Luna team, we also prepared the HDL customised towels, Forbidden City imperial kitchen’s fridge magnets, Ghana chocolate and greeting cards

(This Forbidden City imperial kitchen fridge magnet symbolises our food support and the ghosts that we sent from the Forbidden City to check into Hotel Del Luna hahahah)

We included a greeting card in each gift bag with the message “Thanks to your hardwork on such scorching hot weather, we get to enjoy a nice and cool summer. Thank you! Hwaiting!”

We started preparing for the buffet since long ago, and we especially requested them to prepare IU’s favourite tteokbokki (stir-fried rice cakes) and Tangsuyuk (sweet and sour pork)! We tried to match the decoration with president Man Wol’s extravagant style by adding the golden chairs~ The banners and pictures on table were all specially designed by our art team. 

We also sent a refreshing coffee truck to the set for Man Wol and the HDL team~

No gifts can fully express our support and excitement for Man Wol. So we hope our sincerity can be conveyed by at least a bit! We only wish for our Man Wol to be truly happy!

Source: OnlyU-IU 中国首站 @ weibo Translated by IUteamstarcandy

[dragaoel]

 Jun'ichirō, aka Jun (- Silverdell)

the volume of the radio slowly dwindles down and only static noise is left to be heard

"those are dangerous words"

"not for him " Anja replies, her head laying on her outstretched arm that's on the table , her whole posture the embodiment of laziness. "loved ones always have it easier here"

"Not always" Jun says grimly and glances out of the window" it's because he's an outsider that he's allowed more freedom than any of us"

"aren't you a loved one too?"

Jun sighs deeply and turns towards the albino girl. For a second ,pain , frustration and a hint of panic can be seen in his eyes before it vanishes. He lets out a bitter laugh.

"and you saw where that lead me to,half dead in a ditch"

INTRODUCTION JUN : 

half japanese half black

has waist long black thick hair and brown skin 

has a ‘’prince in anguish’’ aura but masks it with him being over the top ridiculous and dramatic

is 5′11

born 12th october (libra)

‘‘the risk i took was calculated, but man, am i bad at math’‘

Jun is my favourite character, i made him on a whim as a side character in a old story and then i started using him more and more as a background character until i realized the potential he had. He's also one of the character whom i put into a lot of  different aus, the most favourite one was where he was a vampire who loved laying in the garden and eat roses all day

Rukiya (-Though the god’s have left)

‘‘i have dreams about them’‘ Rukiya says and plucks a string on her bass. The deep note rumbles through the room and her short curls moves along as she drops her head lower 

‘‘i'm high in the sky, looking down onto a land that seems oh so familiar, with people screaming at me asking me to help them’‘

‘’do you understand them? ‘’ a band member asks

‘‘weirdly i do’‘ Rukiya answers ‘‘ it seems to be in my native language but also not, as if it was way before everything happened, you know, the ancient time’‘ 

INTRODUCTION RUKIYA :

Out of the both of them Rukiya is the older twin by 4 minutes

she’s also the artsy one than her sister whos into sports

wears black literally 24/7 and has dark circles despite sleeping enough

is 5′9

is black (kenyan) 

mole on the left side of her cheek

fluent in her native tongue kiswahili 

Majors in Film

loves anything that has to do with space nd aliens

born 24th january (aquarius)

has a sweet tooth

*cocks gun* ‘’basements haunted’’

i like the idea of twins that are completely the opposite of each other. Rukiya just like Imara have a big chunk of my personality in them, it's just that i lean more towards Rukiya than Imara. 

Akiho (-Though the god’s have left)

Kneeling down, she cocks her head to the side, her eyes cold and her lips pressed into a thin line ‘’ dont think your actions won't have consequences’’ she sneers ‘’ the next time i see you harassing another girl again i'll make you wish you were never born’’ 

Akiho dusts herself , picks up the bat , glances one last time at the boy laying on the floor and walks away, the echoes of her shoes the only noise to be heard

INTRODUCTION AKIHO :

is 5′4

majors in theater

her fashion style is y2k

is the other one of the dumbass duo

has freckles on her nose

is japanese

doesn't like sweet things usually eats traditional sweets made by her mom or things that are sour/bitter, but salty food has to be spicy asf

born, 14th april (aries)

her side teeth are really pointy

has long peach colored straight hair

‘‘I’d sell you to satan for one corn chip’‘

Akiho comes from a family of 3, she's the youngest sibling and she has that energy. She likes to play with her oldest brother children, doesn't want any on her own though. will fight anyone who is disrespectful, esp towards women 

Hyunjin (-Though the god’s have left)

The tall girl slumps her body onto her girlfriend shoulder, watching her fry the fish in the pan into charcoal. Hyunjin wrinkles her nose in a attempt to push the glasses up without having to actually touch them, before she sighs deeply. 

‘‘Just-’‘ she starts and softly takes ‘‘let me do it, otherwise you'll burn the kitchen down like last time’‘

Praveena puffs her cheeks up ‘’that actually wasn't my fault, it was the gasherd-’’

‘‘i know i know’‘ Hyunjin chuckles and kisses her cheek ‘‘but i have a exam tomorrow and i would like not not have an indigestion’‘ she frowns and flips the fish over and sighs. It seems the fish can’t be saved anymore. 

INTRODUCTION HYUNJIN :

korean

has short dyed blue hair, but the back part is longer than the front part.

is ‘5′10

majors in engineering technology

born 14th may (taurus)

has literally no sense of style and wears glasses cause she has a slight astigmatism that you can't really see

has a mole next to her right eye

‘‘a financially unstable mess but at the liquor store they call me ma’am’‘

honestly out of all the characters i draw hyunjin the most. In the beginning  she  had shoulder length but then i shortened it because i liked it more. She's an only child and her mother runs a bakery while her father works in a office. She's the calm type that's constantly tired because she never sleeps 

Praveena  (-Though the god’s have left)

She shuffles the cards and lays them out on the table. The customers sees the fool, the moon and the star. Praveena touches them with her fingertips ‘’ you seem to be either at the beginning or at the end of a new journey ’’ she pauses and thinks ‘’but either way you're prepared for what is to come’’

The customers nods ‘’i'm soon moving away from this city’’

‘‘I see’‘ Praveena counters and points at the next card ‘‘the moon indicates that you’re hesitant  and fearful in your decision, there might be something from the past that is holding you back and influencing you in the present and possibly the future

the customer tenses up, her eyes fixed on the card and her lips tight

‘‘though’‘ Praveena continues ‘‘at the end you’ll be at peace and glad that you pushed through all the turbulences 

INTRODUCTION PRAVEENA : 

tamil ,dark skin with long wavy violet dyed hair

Hyunjin’s girlfriend

has calm energy but is also very erratic 

loves astrology & tarot

majors in psychology

5′5

born 20 july (cancer)

has droopy eyes

‘‘god cant help you now’‘

i made praveena cause i wanted a harmonious wlw couple, that have that ‘’old married pair’’ plus out of all the ocs those two are the ones that i drew first. Praveena has the tendency to blow things up how though is a mystery and hyunjin always has to clean up everything. 

Imara (-Though the god’s have left)

‘‘no listen, it doesn't make sense why would you wear a bra and some tight ass pants knowing you’re about to fight people who have knives and GUNS?’’ Imara asks perturbed.

‘‘Cause men are horny’‘ Rukiya retorts and raises an eyebrow

‘‘still doesn't make sense like wow!, some fucking boobs, like really? really? is that what gets you going? just some breast pressed up in a bra that is too damn tight and a flat stomach on a skinny ass girl that has absolute no muscles despite the training she went through?

Rukiya sighs ‘’ is this about-’’

‘‘lara croft yes’‘ Imara interrupts and slams her finger on the table ‘‘and im going to die on this hill that men shouldn't be allowed to create games!’‘

INTRODUCTION  IMARA:

plays games a lot, esp the loz series

has curly dyed blonde hair that's mostly tied in a ponytail  or a bun because she cant be bothered with it, though rukiya helps her all the time cause she never really learned how to deal with curly hair. 

Is on a baseball sponsorship because she's that good (she's a pitcher)

is totally tone deaf unlike her twin

isnt good with crows ie: strangers crowding around her after her team won a game

is kenyan

5′9

has a mole next to her upper lips on the left side

loves 90's rnb & hip hop music

‘‘he proclaimed his undying love and asked me to do the same, i had to overcome my desire to laugh’‘

Imara does have a slight complex about being a twin because she feels like Rukiya is the cooler one despite people loving her too. She's loud and boisterous basically a chad, but better. She's dorky and literally spends her free time gaming but she doesn't just play any game shes v specific when it comes to that. Her mom always has a headache because of her but thats okay but in the end her mom loves her to death.

Ava (-Though the god’s have left)

‘’do you you know how much it's sucks that at the end of all of this , i'm the one waiting for them?’’ Ava exclaims ‘’that i'm the one who will have to watch them go through the door to be evaluated? that i'm ultimately the end?

‘‘you’re not all alone-’‘

‘‘you don't understand’’ Ava interrupts, as she points at the short girl ‘’ i will have to watch my mom, my family that raised me go through that door and know that that will be the last time i will see them in that body!’’

INTRODUCTION  AVA:

She’s haitian 

keeps her hair in a short chin length dark blue bob

majors in sociology 

she and akiho are the ‘’comedy duo’’ of the group

is 5′6

born 4th november (scorpio)

‘‘my only crime was that i was down to clown’‘ 

When i make akiho i felt like she needed a companion so i made ava, both of them were inspired by the early 2000 shows characters. Although Ava likes to goof around she's also very studious and serious about her future. She comes from a family of 6 and she’s the second oldest. She and her older sister fight constantly 

Nïrnaya (Dawn over the horizon)

‘‘Magic’‘ the elf stars, her tall stature hunched over the herbs ‘’ is in the nature we’re surrounded in, in the mountains that stand high and the rivers that flow into the deep sea’’

she straightens up and walks over to Nïrnaya ‘’ we might lose everything.’’ She pokes the girl on the forehead ‘’but magic will forever stay with you because its the core of your being‘’ 

INTRODUCTION NÏRNAYA :

shes a mischievous 15 year old 

 has black curly long hair that are mostly braided

does not want to do this whole adventure thing because of how it reminds her too much of the ‘’chosen one trope’’ and thats too much responsibilities

born during the year of the earth dragon

‘‘snacking between meals is the least, but tastiest, of my problems’‘ 

i came up with this story and character because i wanted a book where a black girl for once was the main character, where she could experience the same thing as other mc (ie eragon etc) basically i wanted black representation in a medieval-esque world but with my own spin because the world itself is not very western like

[no-i-didnt-notice-im-short]

Keith "I never asked to be the leader!" with Lance saying "Well too bad because idk if you noticed but there are more people than just you!" Keith getting emotional and everyone getting on Lance for that? I'm sorry i love Klangst >~

Hope you like it, thanks for the prompt ❤

Ao3

This is post S2 for obvious reasons :)

—–

Keith was used to people abandoning him by this point, but the same person twice in a row was just a cruel joke from the universe.

His relationship with lance was thriving but the sense of familial closeness lacked in an unbearable way without Shiro. He was the closest thing he had to an older brother or even a father. He mentored him for years, taking him under his wing in the journey that is… life.

Finding him all those months ago in Garrison’s captivity after he crash-landed was a saving grace for the orphan boy. That small shred of familiarity he was given back subconsciously saved his life and kept him from falling apart after they were blasted off into space. A shred he lost again.

His and Lance’s relationship was still in its honeymoon phase when it all happened. That phase where you lay next to each other and whisper sweet nothings to remind each other that you are both here and that this tender moment was actually happening. Shiro’s disappearance ruined all that for Keith. He couldn’t afford to lie down, to not do anything that could get him closer to the Black Paladin.

Shiro said to take the lead if something was to happen to him but he couldn’t help but feel like he made a mistake trusting Keith with all of this. After the whole thing with the Black Lion, he had two paladins with new Lions and another two that didn’t know the first thing about combat. Keith was in over his head.

The new Black paladin spoke with Coran to give him the training records of the Paladins of Old to try it with the team. He set the training deck to the required settings and started the workout. Allura was to go first followed by Hunk then Pidge and ending with Lance. Each of their strengths and weaknesses were taken into consideration and Keith couldn’t help but feel slight pride in his work.

Overworking himself was his coping mechanism, he already knew it was bad but he couldn’t think about that right now. He did it back on earth when Shiro first disappeared with the weird energy and drawings in the cave, which later turned out to be super important and now he was doing it again with training exercises and trying to move forward.

He hadn’t seen much of the team outside of training due to him holing himself in the gym or the training deck. Keith needed to be better for the sake of the team, for the sake of finding Shiro again and for the sake of distracting himself, something not even Lance had been able to do… He just thought about it too much and he needed that intoxicating rush of adrenaline.

By the end of the first week of their new training schedule Hunk seemed like he had dead weights on his punches while he dodged the oncoming punches clumsily instead of the usual calculated precision. Allura’s moves were sluggish and too slow which was shocking considering she was their best fighter.

Lance was slightly better aiming/shooting wise but horrible in hand-to-hand combat, a note Keith didn’t spare from Lance as he kept repeating it all throughout his turn to remind him to get better. But the ex-Blue Paladin barely entered the training deck to train and it was showing in his hand-to-hand combat, being the only trope he was lacking in.

Today’s training was going fine. Everyone was doing their parts and Keith was giving pointers like he usually did, Coran was at the controls and whoever finished or were waiting for their designated session were doing light cardio on the sides.

By the time it was Pidge’s turn Keith was running out of temper to spare.

“Pidge! It’s like you are not even trying. You don’t duck the minute you think there might be a punch, you try to counter it.” Keith said in a rather stern way, but it was all for good reason. “Do what I’ve been telling you for the past week: Use. Your. Size.”

He walked closer to the bot and demonstrated the move he wanted and how he wanted it. He needed her to be ready for anything, why can’t she see that?

“Hey man, we get what you want but can you just calm down for a sec?” Hunk surprisingly said. He was wearing a training shirt with what looked like basketball shorts, and was also sweating buckets. His training today was weights and Keith tried to get him to push his body limits as much as possible for a better result. “She is trying to do what you are saying, can’t you see that?”

“Not really. All I see is weakness that could be exploited by our enemies in times of actual battle. She is already the smallest Paladin she can’t afford to be the weakest one too. She won’t make it.”

“What the hell DID YOU JUST SAY!?” A voice boomed from across the training deck. Lance came charging at him with inhuman speed, the sweat and flush on his face making him look scarier than usual. The fire in his eyes burned brighter than Keith had ever seen.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Lance.” He visibly sighed and made eye contact with Lance, regretting it almost immediately but held it for a few more minutes anyways. “All I am saying is that she needs to train more. You all do!”

“But we are training.” Hunk voiced out. Lance was fuming and looked like he had a lot to say but kept it in for everyone’s sake. Keith didn’t understand the reactions he was receiving; he was doing this for them all get better. This was war, not a playground fight.

“Not nearly well enough.” Keith shrugged. “Your level is close to pathetic and we all won’t survive the next battle at this rate.”

“Fuck you Keith we are all tired here, look around you we are all working our asses off” Lance threw his arms up dramatically.

“Not you.”

Pin drop silence.

And it may have been the fact that he didn’t expect this person to ever do this to any member of his team or the fact that his brain was racing too much to comprehend reality but the next thing Keith knew he was on the floor and his nose was dripping blood from the force of being decked in the face by Lance.

“We are all tired and worn out.” Hunk said. He had a hand on Lance’s shoulder, probably to keep him in check. “We have been training non-stop for the past week while dealing with a lot of issues on our own. Don’t think for one second you are the only one here who has been overworking themselves.”

Keith turned to the Yellow Paladin and stared. “I know that, I just think that right now the most important thing for us to do is to train. I am the leader according to Shiro and this is what I think is best.”

“What you think is best?! Right, so because Shirochose you based on his biased judgment we are supposed to follow your lead toour deaths?” Lance narrowed his eyes, holding eye contact with determination. Keithdidn’t understand where all this was coming from. “You do get that with how weare training, we won’t need to go to battle to die. You will do so during thesetraining sessions.”

“I never asked to take over as the leader, you know!!”Keith yelled at Lance. “It was Shiro’s decision and he’s GONE! All I am doingis respecting his wishes and doing what I think is best for the team. We needto train.”

“-We are not all YOU, KEITH! WE DON’T TRAIN LIKE COLD-HEARTED SOLDIERS!” he took a deep breath before composing himself. “I don’tknow if you noticed but there are more people than just you on this team.Shiro’s disappearance hit all of us. Maybe you more than the rest but we areall hurting after losing a friend. Open your damn eyes and look around you! Dios,we are your teammates, your friends, not your pet soldiers. Today’s session isdone.” He turned and left with that.

Their relationship was a secret. They didn’t have their friend’s expectations hanging over their necks on how they should treat each other, in private or in public. These new developments after the battle against Zarkon wasn’t really discussed by the lovers, both were choosing to focus on other matters. Keith didn’t tell Lance but it left a sour taste in his mouth thinking the Blue Paladin didn’t take all of this seriously, despite Lance making his insecurities pretty clear after their first few nights spent together, that he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone.

But at this moment, he wished they told the team of their new found closeness so Hunk or Pidge could punch Keith for what just happened.

Lance understood stress. He had anxiety for fuck’s sake.

What Keith was displaying, though, was getting out of hand on so many levels; it didn’t just affect him, it affected the whole team. He stalked Keith in the training room and saw his hopeless haunting look when he thought no one was watching. The small tremors that overtook his body when he overthought about a certain plan or when someone fucked up a training session; Keith was terrified that whatever happened to Shiro would happen to one of them too.

But what Keith failed to see was that everyone else was terrified too.

Lance had spent the better half of his time making sure everyone was healthy. Pidge over worked herself to an extent that he knew she won’t sleep if not reminded so he took her laptop from her when it was time for bed. He had his fair share of run-ins with the other paladins at night after being woken by a nightmare, another reason why he didn’t sleep in the first place, so to say the least: he saw first-hand how much everyone was suffering.

Hunk baked every possible recipe he could remember from earth while helping Coran fix a million things around the castle. Both males ran around all day trying to keep themselves busy by any means necessary with Lance going after them trying to get them to eat, drink and sleep. Allura’s situation was a bit tricky because she didn’t take him as seriously as the others, at first, so he had to get creative with getting her to take care of herself. And it all worked.

Taking care of everyone was so much work that he knew he was forgetting himself but the smile he would sometimes receive from Pidge when she wakes up from a long uninterrupted nap or from Hunk when he talks and lets out everything bothering him and Lance listens to him or from Allura when he helps her after reaching a supposedly dead-end in her planning by giving her a fresh point of view on things was way more than worth it in his books.

After leaving the training deck he goes to the Red Hanger to seek some comfort, he would’ve gone to Blue but Lance wasn’t over the rejection yet. As he reached the hanger door, he tiptoed to the Lion’s jaw to get into the cockpit but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to find Coran smiling sadly at Lance.

“How are you, my boy?”

“I’m okay, Coran, just tired from training.”

“You know that we appreciate all that you’ve been doing to us these past few days.” Lance looked at Coran and found sincerity but he couldn’t get himself to believe him. Not completely.

“Keith seems to think otherwise.”

“You don’t know that, lad. He is just tired.”

Lance gave him a confirmation hum before he turned to leave, the hanger suddenly a few degrees colder than before. Exhaustion seeping into his soul more by the second; he was so tired. His vision started blurring the minute he caught sight of his bed. He locked the door, took off his training clothes and got under the covers and let the world turn black without interruption.

Coran walked into the training deck ready to kill someone and Keith almost had an idea why.

“I will make it up to everyone later.” He grumbled as he punched another bot, killing it in an instant.

“You will make it up to Lance this very second.” Coran’s gentle tone discarded for a hostile one that sent shivers down Keith back. Coran stalked up to him and stood mere inches away from his face while jabbing a finger in his chest. “You have no idea what that boy has been doing to everyone here and you need to start taking notes.” He said with a final jab and left.

What Lance has been doing?

Keith hasn’t seen much of Lance, but then again he hasn’t seen much of anyone. Pidge was always on her laptop while Hunk was always in the Kitchen. He helped Allura sometimes with strategy but didn’t talk to her otherwise. And Coran was Coran…

He ended the simulation and walked out the deck determine to find answers. He passed the kitchen and heard a voice that he later identified as Pidge.

“-too tired.” She finished.

“Yeah… those eyes bags are getting worse. We need to help him find himself again.” Allura conversed. He didn’t know the girls talked outside of missions, let alone about other members. He always assumed everyone was busy doing their own things between missions, like he did. “Keith had no right to disregard his hard work like this.”

Hard work?

“Yeah he’s been too down lately and he’s not talking to anyone about it.” Hunk was there too? The ringing sound of a tray set on the table. “He doesn’t come to me anymore, he hasn’t in a while but before it wasn’t as serious now.”

“Wasn’t he close to Keith before this?” Allura asked. “I thought they were finally getting along.”

“Yeah, me too.” Pidge answered.

Keith couldn’t listen to any more of this. He walked to his room, closed the door and trailed down to the floor with his head on his knees. Hot shame and guilt washed over him as he thought about of Lance. The others even noticed how close they were, he knew they didn’t hide it well but he didn’t think they would notice it to the extent of noting the difference.

He thought of every night he went to train and how the light of the lounge was always on. He assumed it was Pidge or Hunk as Lance took his sleep religiously but he was starting to doubt all his beliefs when it comes to the ex-Blue Paladin these days.

He looked around his room and saw random garments that didn’t belong to him. A shirt here and there, a pair of pants and some socks. He never realised how much he missed Lance and how much the Cuban softened him up that he without him there to go to bed with, he was beginning to suffocate. Lance has been hurting too but, unlike Keith, he was putting all that aside and helping the others.

Keith missed Shiro’s presence immensely at the very moment hating the responsibility he thrusted on his shoulders. He had finally found someone who would like him for who he was… flaws and all. And he ruined it by being a self-absorbed prick. He thought of what Shiro would say at a situation like this and came up blank.

Keith needed to fix this on his own.

Lance heard a knock on his door, yanking him out of dreamless sleep.

He opened the door finding a glass jar at the foot of the door. Lance bent down and lifted it to his face and stared. It was filled with little pieces of paper, all different colours. He opened the lid and took one of the pieces out and read what’s on it.

You make me a better person.

He tried thinking of everyone’s handwriting and couldn’t think of anyone’s that could match the one on the paper. He blamed it on the fact that no one writes anymore when you can easily type it out.

He took another one.

I appreciate everything you do for this team.

Red couldn’t have chosen a better Paladin

The fourth one however gave him a clue as to who his mystery person was.

You remind me I’m still human.

Lance thought of a conversation he had with Keith after they returned from the first time they had reached out for the Blade and it ended with Lance comforting a sobbing Keith. He was terrified of being Galra that he opened up for the first time ever about his past and how much Shiro meant to him and how he didn’t want to scare Shiro after what he went through at the hands of Galra. It took Lance literal hours to calm him down and get him to sleep that night. It was also the first time they ever slept together.

A small smile made its way to his lips as he took another paper.

You are all the better parts of myself.

He knew Keith was apologizing to what happened but he also knew that if he went to him right now he couldn’t trust his mind to make the right decision, words wise. He went back to bed with the jar in his hand and went through every single one of the papers, his smile growing more by the second. He really liked Keith and he was going to make sure that that boy knows when to relax.

I haven’t had motivation to write for a while… Finally got some clarity of mind and decided to do this prompt that i got months ago.

Hope you guys liked it! And i am so sorry if this is shit...

[garyofrivia]

For They Shall Be Satisfied

Arthur Morgan x OC

Chapter 1

(masterlist in bio - find more chapters there!)

Summary: In the days before the Blackwater Massacre, everything was simpler. Life has never been about the delicacies of luxury for the Van der Linde gang. It’s about surviving. Annie Bolton is no stranger to survival. With a natural talent for robbing, killing, and con-artistry, she fit in perfectly when she fell in with Dutch and company 6 years ago. But with time, more than what meets the eye is revealed. Not everyone is who they say they are and everything is always more than it seems. What is uncovered from beneath the guise of freedom and liberty is a world full of chaos, death, and deceit. For Arthur, John, Dutch, and Annie, the struggle for power is coming to an end and the time to make important decisions closes in, quicker than any of them could prepare for. (Takes place just before RDR2 and then continues into the game's events - Arthur will get his happy ending if it's the last thing I do goddamn it)

A/N: soo this is my first chaptered RDR fic, heck! feel free to let me know what ya think, stay tuned for updates, she’s gonna be a long one, kids. 

Warnings/Categories: Violence, Angst

(WC: 4,312)

The plains of West Elizabeth were just as they had always been. Dry, hot, barren, practically a desert. For miles, all you could see was grassland that seemingly swallowed the horizon. It gave the illusion of being flat, though jagged rocks stuck out of the earth like fangs. Steep hills and ridges disrupted the terrain and painted the picture of a wasteland, though it was quite the contrary. The wildlife that thrived there endured the elements as they came. When it rained, it poured. At night, the temperatures reached near freezing, a stark contrast to the scorching midday sun with rays that seemed to make its way through every cloud break in the sky. Even in early spring, it was unbearable. With the heat beating down on her shoulders, the hunter on the road finally gave into the temptation of shedding her jacket and slung it over her horse’s back behind the saddle. She was a tall, fair woman, with strong shoulders atop her lean frame and wide hips. Her long, deep brown hair was tied off her sweaty neck and tied into a braid down her back, and even without the jacket she felt as if she was baking alive in the dry heat. She wiped the sweat from her brow and grimaced. She truly did not miss the this climate.

Annie Bolton had gone out alone on a hunting trip for a few days to the northwestern part of West Elizabeth. She told herself that it was a way to get away from camp and seemingly everyone’s watchful eyes for a while and to scout the perimeter of the territory as she tracked herds of pronghorn. The trip had been relatively unsuccessful, and while she collected about a half-dozen jackrabbit pelts, the bigger game in the area had seemed to have disappeared. She was trekking back to camp on foot, leading her stallion, Nero, around snake holes and loose rocks. Her bowstring was rubbing her collarbone raw, but she didn’t care. The frustration of the hunt had sent her spiraling into a whirlwind of thought. The Van der Linde gang had retreated east to escape the long arm of the law in multiple. Dutch had thought it best, since that’s really the only direction they could go without running out of land. Civilization did not sit well with the gang; or rather, the gang didn’t sit well with civilization. While the area around Blackwater wasn’t as populated or industrialized as other places out east, it was still… different. On the other hand, cities and towns offered profitable more opportunities than the open frontier. Annie and Hosea made a killing in the towns. They were a good team when they worked together, especially considering he taught her everything she knows about running a scheme. She was a natural at it, sweet talking any unsuspecting businessman at a saloon she could to draw their attention and give them the rundown, but she preferred to remain in the background and watch from afar. The more information she could gather about her surroundings, the better. She never let anyone go into a job unprepared for a situation that could take a wrong turn. Almost every stagecoach hit, heist, homestead run, or bank robbery that she had taken point on had been a success. Even though she’d been running with the Dutch for less than a quarter of the time his right hand, Arthur Morgan, had been, she’d quickly risen to the top of the food chain under Hosea’s wing. She proved herself to be a valuable member of the team many times over. Although to her, nothing ever seemed to be enough. It’s not that Dutch didn’t like her. He called her his daughter and he trusted her with big jobs as much as he did Arthur or Hosea. But he was… off, as of late. He’d sometimes pull Hosea aside and they’d speak quietly about something in his tent and usually, the conversations turned into heated arguments. She never caught a full conversation, but for more reasons than one, she knew a lot of them had to have been about her. Annie was a loner, even within the gang. After 6 years with them, she still felt the need to keep to herself. This didn’t seem to sit well with Dutch. She’d never cross anyone, not even in her wildest dreams. She would, and had, put herself in any kind of danger to protect them, just as they would each other. Every time it came up with Arthur, which was rarely a conversation either of them enjoyed having, he assured her that her that Dutch loved her like his own. She never believed him, so she’d taken it upon herself to prove her worth. And that she did. But, the less than successful hunting trip had caused her to miss out on a caravan robbery near Blackwater and had barely any game to show for it. She and and her horse both felt defeated as they trudged on through the thick undergrowth and uneven ground. What at first seemed to be a gust of wind in the brush, she soon realized was a voice from over a small ridge to her left. She immediately halted in her tracks and whipped out the binoculars from her saddlebag. She crouched down and approached carefully. Two men came into view and she could just barely make out what they were saying. “I jus’ don’t think it’s a good idea,” the man standing next to a tree said loudly. He spoke in an Irish accent that sent shivers down Annie’s spine. It can’t be… “It don’t matter what you think, dumbass.”  “That much is clear.” “Boss says it’s the best thing we can do right now. So we’ll wait up for Thomas and Connelly and the rest of their lot and just do what we’re told.” She peered through her binoculars and caught a glimpse of their faces and notorious blue coats, recognizing them instantly. O’Driscolls. Damn it. It somehow wasn’t a surprise, though it was a bit puzzling. What are they doing this far south? As if on cue, band of five men rode into view and towards the small encampment. “Howdy, Collins. O’Shea,” the man on the first horse greeted them. “Connelly is brining the rest of the boys right behind us. The pair of you ready to go catch us some Van der Lindes?”  Shit. “Sure, their hit’s supposed to be just north of here. We scouted the area.”  SHIT. Without wasting any time, she took off back to Nero and spurred him into a gallop towards camp. Panic was hitching in her chest. It’d only be a few weeks since they’d been camped near Blackwater and the O’Driscolls shouldn’t have been able to find them so quickly. And the chances of them catching wind of the caravan job were slim to none. Something was wrong. The sight of Charles standing guard just outside camp alarmed her for some reason. She figured he’d be on with the job, but they must have been shorthanded for guard duty. “Annie-,” he started to say something, but she sped past him and right into the heart of camp. “Dutch!” she called. The Count and Boudicca were hitched next to each other near Strauss’s wagon. “Dutch!” “Annie, why on Earth are you yellin’?” Dutch brushed passed the flap of his tent with Arthur on his heels. “It’s the O’Driscolls. They’re headin’ to the caravan. I don’t know what they’re plannin’, but it can’t be good.” “Shit. Where are they?” “East, down the river a ways. Arthur, let’s go.” Arthur groaned and jogged towards his horse. “Jesus.” “I need to come with you,” Dutch said, starting for The Count. “No, they’ll be gunnin’ for you,” Annie said. “And we need people here to protect camp in case they find it, and by the looks of it it’s only you, the Callander boys, and Charles.” “Were you followed?” Dutch says, narrowing his eyes. “No, of course not! We don’t have time for this,” she said a bit too harshly. Dutch opened his mouth to snap at her but Arthur cut him off. “She’s right, Dutch. Who knows how they found us, they might have more men than just the ones she saw.” “Fine,” Dutch said, nodding reluctantly. “Go on, then.” She took off again at full speed with Arthur at her side. He pulled slightly ahead, leading the way to the hit location. “Why aren’t you on the job, Arthur?” she said. “Who’s takin’ the lead?” “John is,” he replied, monotone. “Dutch wanted a few errands taken care of. Had to tend to that first with Bill, I was gonna catch up later.” “Didn’t seem like it. Since when are you an errand boy and John gets to run point?” “Since today, apparently. Since you wanna ask me all these questions, where the hell have you been?” “Hunting.” “Did you toss all the game back after reelin’ ‘em in? Or did they just get up to put their pelts back on and walk home?” “Shut up. I went ‘cause I thought there would be plenty of guns for this job. Not my fault the fields are dry as hell.” “I told you, I was gonna go!” “Either way, it’s done with now. All that scouting for nothin’. Damn it.” “Well…” She glanced over to him and saw the familiar, sly gleam in his eyes. “What?” “We could cut these boys off. Save the job from goin’ sour. Lord knows we need the money.” Annie paused to think and slowed Nero to a canter, Arthur following suit. “What if they have more men, like you said?” He shrugged. “What’s that magical gut of yours tellin’ you?” “We could… split up?” “Neither of us are that good with a pistol to take on that many O’Driscoll boys alone. I appreciate the sentiment, though.” “Well, I could ride up on that ridge with my rifle just before where the hit’s gonna go down. Pick ‘em off as they come in, with you on the ground to round up the stragglers.” “Now, there’s an idea,” he said, satisfied. “You wanted a hunt, didn’t ya?” Annie smirked and kicked Nero to a gallop again, leaving Arthur to make his way to the rest of the gang. It was about a five minute ride by the time she got to the ridge. She pulled her worn, black bandana over her nose and mouth and dismounted. With a quick survey of the area, she pulled the sniper rifle from her saddle and began aiming to adjust the scope, finding the gang in her sights, just around the bend that would hide them from the oncoming caravan. Arthur tipped his hat when he saw her wave from the ridge and returned to arguing with John. No sign of the O’Driscolls or the stage coaches yet. Annie sighed with relief. They’d gotten there with time to spare. She kept an eye on the gang. John had brought Sean, Micah, Javier, and Lenny. “Idiot,” she mumbled to herself. It wasn’t nearly enough men for a robbery like this in broad daylight. He and Arthur both looked heated, which was nothing new. A few years before, John had run off for a while, longer than he should have according to Arthur. They’d been at each other’s throats since he got back. Annie saw Arthur point to her and across the fields, probably telling the rest of them what the plan was. As he ran off to get in position, she turned her attention to the east. It wasn’t long before the onslaught of O’Driscolls came riding across the plains. Annie quickly counted ten of them in total. This wasn’t going to be easy. She took in a deep breath and lined up her first shot, firing with a steady exhale. One down. The man’s head bobbled, his body immediately going limp and falling sideways off his horse. The piercing sound of the sniper rifle took the rest of them by surprise, but they kept formation, not knowing where the fire was coming from. She pulled the trigger twice more, dropping another two men. Seven more to go. They scattered with the third shot and Arthur instantly took off towards the four riders going south, while Annie focused her fire on the three fleeing north. From her peripherals, she saw the gang fall into motion as the first stagecoach entered the valley, John at the head. She was surprised they hadn’t stopped and turned around the wagons at the first sounds of gunfire. City folk had once again proven themselves to be notoriously naive. One of the O’Driscoll boys ran right past the disoriented escorts, but Annie splattered his brains on the road right next to them. She didn’t miss a shot, even from this distance with moving targets. Though Arthur and the rest of the boys would never admit it, she was the best sharpshooter in the gang. If there was one thing she was sure of about herself, it was her steady aim. She picked off the last O’Driscoll in her sights and turned her attention back to the heist. The three moronic escorts were off to the side in front of Micah on their knees, clear of the robbery. Three coaches full of rich travelers and precious cargo meant a huge haul for them. This was the biggest job they’d done in a few months and she prayed nothing more would get in the way as she packed her gun onto her saddle and began to mount up to help Arthur. “Long time no see, Bolton’.” She froze. The eerily familiar voice came from behind her. A revolver hammer locked into place and a chill ran down her neck when she felt the barrel turn its aim on her. “Gregory,” she said, glancing over her shoulder and raising her hands. “What brings you boys to these parts?” “Just on the trail of some vermin. Looks like I caught myself some. Why don’t you come on home with me?” “Why? You miss me?” “I sure as hell don’t. Colm do, though. I’m just doin’ his biddin’,” he scoffed Anger rose up within her at the mention of Colm. He’d taken her in when she was a child, but not in the way Dutch did with orphans who need a home. He was more like her owner, making her dress up for jobs to use her as bait, training her to kill, steal, and fight. If she did do it the way he said, she earned herself a beating, if he was feeling kind. She eventually was able to get out when she was about 13. They’d had a few run-ins since, but she always somehow managed to escape. But it came close once. Too close. About a year ago, she was laying in her bed, mending the gunshot wound that should have killed her. The bullet somehow left all vital organs undamaged, missing her left lung by just under an inch. It still gave her a run for her money when it got infected after being stranded out in the elements for a day or two. Hosea found her facedown in the mud, 40 yards from camp. She didn’t remember how, but she walked and dragged herself the whole way from town, nearly six miles away. How she didn’t bleed out was beyond anyone. By some unruly stroke of luck, surely. She slowly turned to face the man she once knew as Joseph Gregory. His left shoulder was shot, likely in the collarbone from the way his arm was limp at his side. He must have been one to get away from Arthur. Now that he had her cornered once and for all, the manic grin across his face was hauntingly overjoyed. “You boys been followin’ us, then?” “‘Course we have,” he said. He’d lost a lot of blood, but he seemed more angry than concerned. “There’s a price on your head in two different states. Figure it’s easy money.” “Well, seems like nothin’s changed with you. You can’t take me in to the law if Colm wants me. Where’s your loyalty lie, Joey? With Colm or with the money?” Gregory smiled. “Colm says he’ll let me have you after he’s done with what he needs to do witcha. I’m gonna call the bounty money a bonus.” “We both know that’s a damn lie.” “It ain’t!” “So you intendin’ to take me alive, then?” “So long as you cooperate. I’ll shoot them pretty little legs right off ya if you don’t. He only needs a part of you still breathin’.” “C’mon now, you don’t think I’ll willingly get on that nasty ole nag of yours, hands tied with no way of defendin’ myself, do you?” His smile faded. “I don’t see how you’re in any position to be makin’ demands, bitch.” “Go on, then,” she taunted, dropping her hands to her side. “Shoot my ‘pretty little legs’ off.” He frowned and cinched his eyebrows together in frustration. It was a thin line she was treading, but she knew Colm O’Driscoll. He wanted her for himself. And Gregory was afraid of Colm more than he hated Annie. “You can ride your own horse,” he mumbled, reluctantly. “But I gotta tie your hands to my saddle.” She smirked and held her hands out. “See? That seems reasonable.” He holstered his gun and started to restrain her. Annie smiled when she saw the rider in the black hat pop up over the hill, just behind Gregory. Arthur pressed a finger to his lips and crept towards them, revolver in hand. When he was in position he nodded and Annie made her move. “Achoo!” she sneezed right into Gregory’s face, stunning him for half a second. It was enough time for Arthur to jump into action and pressed the gun right into the O’Driscoll’s spinal cord. Annie rubbed her nose, mockingly. “Sorry, must be all the dust.” “You goddamn bitch! I’ll gut you for this!” “Hey now, didn’t your mama ever teach you how to talk to a lady?” Arthur said. He grabbed Gregory by his arm and forced him to the ground, face down. “That ain’t no lady,” Gregory snarled. “That’s a damned she-devil.” Annie chuckled as Arthur smashed the butt of his gun into the man’s head, making him yelp like a dog. “Nah, he’s right, Arthur. I ain’t no lady. I’m so, so much worse.” She approached him and knelt so that he could see her face clearly. “Now, if you survive this, you tell Colm we’re far too smart for him. We’ll always see him comin’. We’ll always be one step ahead. Always.” She nodded to Arthur and he hogtied him without struggle. “C’mere,” he said, slinging Gregory onto his shoulder and walking him down the hill to the his horse. He threw him on the back and secured him to his own saddle. “Have a good trip, now. Make sure you take a left at the crossroads.” With that, Annie slapped the man’s horse and they took off into the distance. “You shoulda shot him,” she said. “I didn’t wanna miss and accidentally hit you.” “All the same.” “You okay?” She shuffled her feet and adjusted the brim of her hat. “Yeah, no reason why I shouldn’t be.” “Well, you were just starin’ down the barrel of that bastard’s gun.” “Nothin’ new. Concern’s not a good look for you, Arthur.” “Sure. How many you get?” “In all? Six.” “How many shots?” Annie grinned deviously. “Do I really need to answer that?” “No,” Arthur laughed and shook his head. “You sure don’t” Annie’s smile faded and she sighed. “They’re trackin’ us. Bastard said so himself. They’re… uh, tryin’a get to me.” “Shit. I knew Colm to be vengeful, but not like this. What did you even do to the man, again?” “I left him, joined up with his sworn enemy, and started killin’ his men. I reckon that’d make him pretty mad.” “This ain’t mad. This is crazy.” “There a difference?” Before he could respond they saw John ride up to them from around the side of the hill, followed closely by the rest of the gang on the job. “Thanks for havin’ our back, you two,” John said, nodding to the pair of them. Javier tossed them both a single stack of bills. “Here’s your cut. We should be gettin’ outta here.” “Right, Arthur and Annie, always there to save the goddamn day.” Micah said, a bit too loudly. “We didn’t run it, why do we get a cut?” Annie asked, ignoring Micah’s jab. “There wouldn’t have been a bloody job if it weren’t for you two bastards,” Sean chimed in. “Why are you arguin’? Let’s get a move on!” “I ain’t arguin’,” Arthur said, shrugging. He whistled for his horse and Annie did the same. “Let’s go, law’ll be here any minute on account of all the gunfire. Separate ways everyone. Stay outta sight and outta trouble.” Annie mounted her horse and turned to ride off with the rest of them when she noticed Arthur hanging back, taking in the view of the scattered O’Driscoll corpses from the ridge. She rode up to him and noticed a puzzled look on his face. “What is it?” “Oh, uhh… I was just… wonderin’ about how they heard about the heist. Kinda suspicious, don’t ya think?” Annie sighed. “We can figure all that out at camp. There’s nothin’ here that’ll help.” “Maybe there’s -.” “Arthur,” she said, cutting him off. “What is it?” He sighed, hesitating. “It’s Dutch. He’s concerned for… well, us. You and I.” “Why’s that?” “A while back he told me that Colm’s apparently been hearin’ the message that you’re close with me. Dutch says he’ll try to use me to get to you. Now I don’t rightly worry about myself in that regard. But the way Colm’s been gunnin’ for you… It’s unsettling.” Annie shifted in her saddle, a bit unnerved. “Why’s any of this on Dutch’s mind?” “Don’t be like that, Annie, he’s only lookin’ out for the gang.” “Just seems he shoulda come to me about it, seein’ as it’s my responsibility.” “It’s just as much mine as it is yours.” “Is it? You don’t know what Colm’s capable of, I can guarantee you that much.” Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think I know what he’s done?” “No,” she said, plainly. “I don’t. The next time you or Dutch have a conversation about who will be dyin’ ‘cause of me, I’d like to be there for it.” “We weren’t talkin’ about-.” “About what? Throwin’ me out?” “Jesus, no! Of course not, Dutch’d never do that to one of his own.” “Really?” she scoffed. “I was an O’Driscoll once, you think he’s forgotten about that?” “He ain’t Colm. You were a kid, same as all of us when we fell into this life. Dutch knows that, he knows your story, how it went for you. It’s bad business.” “He ain’t know the half of it. Neither do you.” “Tell me then,” he challenged, raising his hands in exasperation. “If you’re so hellbent on us knowin’ the whole story.” “I ain’t,” Annie snapped. “Look. I know what Colm’ll do once he’s got his sights set on someone. He’ll use anyone he can, anyone you’re close to.” “Is that what we are then, Arthur? ‘Close’?” He paused, taken aback by the question. “Well, I don’t know, are we?” Annie shook her head and sighed loudly. She felt a confusing mix of anger and sadness swirling in her stomach. If the two of them had anything in common, it was their temper. “Arthur, you gotta understand, if anything happened to you… or the rest of the gang for that matter... because of me, I’d never forgive myself. I was a fool for hopin’ it’d be different. After everything I’ve done…” Arthur didn’t seem like he knew how to respond. He just looked at her with longing eyes, begging her to not finish building the wall she’d been putting up between them for as long as he’s known her. The silence grew more and more tense between them. But she realized she knew what she had to do. “I’ll talk to Dutch and Hosea,” she continued, her voice suddenly weak. “I’ll do a few more jobs with you all, help you out some while I make what I need to be on my way.” Arthur shook his head in denial. “No, Annie. That ain’t gonna go over well.” “Damn what Dutch says then. I won’t do that to everyone. We have our differences he and I, but you all are fine people. Hosea will-.” “No, not with Dutch. Not with Hosea. With me, with John and Charles, Lenny, and Tilly and the rest of everyone-.” “I just-.” “Shut up for once, will ya?” he snapped at her. Her breath hitch on the lump forming in her throat and she suddenly couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. “Annie, we’re family now, ain’t we? We’ll protect you. I will. I won’t… I can’t do none of this without you. None of us can, we need you.” “We should go, Arthur,” she said, her voice cracking. The feeling of dread sank in her stomach like a rock. She lowered her head so her hat hid her face, fearful of what her expression might reveal. “Please, can I see you at camp? Can we talk about this?” “Since when are you one for talkin’?” She cleared her throat and hesitated. “I’ll meet you back there.” With that, she took off towards Blackwater, mustering all her strength to hold herself together. She knew it wouldn't last very long.

[agl03]

Would you do a Hypable breakdown for this week?

Those gravitonium blues

In retrospect, it’s almost hard to remember all those long years spent wondering if Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was ever going to return to gravitonium. With each successive episode in season 5, the mercurial element becomes more and more central to the story — and this week steps on the gas.

That’s a good thing for the story, and a bad thing for our characters. We already knew how dangerous gravitonium was on its own, and we know now what peril lies within it. As the magnetic pull of the silvery stuff draws more and more people into its orbit, it becomes clear that this might just be the tip of the iceberg.

TL;DR: Gravitonium is nasty, guys.

The Gravitonium could become more than just a blob by the end of the episode.  It either takes more of a form or if the Machine is used on someone or the Gravitonium “takes a host” my money is on Creel or Hale.  

It could be revealed that there are more people trapped in the Gravitonium outside of Hall and Quinn.

Ruby and Werner at the very least meet their ends and I really think the Gravitonium ‘eats’ them too.

“Dangerous on its own” suggests that it gets combined with someone or something…and the results are not going to be pretty.

Follow a leader

Forced into leadership after Coulson’s kidnapping, you might expect Daisy to fall gratefully back under the Director’s guidance. After all, that’s what she said she was going to do.

But as it turns out, executive decision-making is a hell of a drug. That doesn’t mean that Daisy is about to seize the reigns of power or anything, but it does mean that Coulson has to reckon with a protege who is suddenly just as comfortable giving orders as she is taking them.

And that means that certain people are in certain places that they would not otherwise be… and there are always complications when that kind of thing goes down.

Because apparently the fracture in the team isn’t bad enough yet they’ve got to have some tension between Daisy and Coulson too.   

The two are likely going to disagree about how to proceed when it comes to stopping Hale and getting too Fitzsimmons/Elena.  

As a result of them not seeing eye to eye the right team members aren’t where they need to be as things really start to get bad and the base siege is set up.

From the promo Mack is at the base with Coulson and Talbot while Daisy, May, and Deke aren’t seen.  So they could be going after Ruby and Fitzsimmons…though I’m not sure how Deke would manage to get himself out of a mission shortly after dying.

Its also possible that this is where Daisy’s decision to bring Robin out of hiding really backfires. 

Ace in the base

No, of course I hadn’t forgotten about poor Glen Talbot, who was revealed last week to have been brainwashed by General Hale. A lot more light (and some darkness) is shed on the matter in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. 5×18, as we learn exactly what Talbot has been activated to do. Let’s just say we probably should have seen this one coming.

Early guess is he’s going after Robin, giving up the base’s location to some baddies, and if there are other agents that have been brainwashed he’ll activate them as well to set up the siege.

Love is a battlefield

No, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. 5×18 has not forgotten the romantic tendrils it left behind last week… but that doesn’t mean that all will be sweet and rosy. Fitz and Simmons are stuck babysitting two extremely angry and trigger-happy teenaged wannabe serial killers. Coulson is left dumbfounded by May’s intimate confession, and it’s not a great look. Yo-Yo is quite literally on the fritz, and Deke is being… Deke. Overall, you might say that events in the romance department take a distinct turn towards the sour this week.

But hey, at least Ruby and Werner have a grand old time.

Lots of torment from Ruby and Werner towards Fitzsimmons and that is before whatever terrible is coming with the Gravitonium kicking it up a notch.  I’m not worried about them on the relationship front and they’ll just be happy to get out of there alive and I’m still holding onto the they sabotage things theory.

Ruby and Werner are going to be creepy and awful.

Philinda fans prepare for some angst.   Coulson doesn’t look to be ready to properly respond and he has some decisions of his own as to how to proceed.  

Mackelena fans also prepare for some angst.  If they are even reunited by the end Elena locked him in a cell and over did it with her arms despite his warnings.  Elena is going to be trying to get back to the Quin Jet and call for help while dodging the Mechs and at a disadvantage not being able to use her arms or her speed.

Deke….I’m not sure of.   He’s going to be recovering from being shot and that could keep him at the Lighhouse as the Talbot stuff goes down or he tags along with trying to save Fitzsimmons.   I do think if there is something to my “long game” theory it will come out and possible someone else will learn of his connection to Fitzsimmons. 

Not going to lie, I hope he does something big to help get them back.

Bonus hint: If she needs one, she’ll take one.

Call back to 084 when May told Ward if she needs a gun she’ll take one.  My guess is either May says it again or Daisy does before they go fight some baddies…very possible its with Deke in the mix too 

[vagrantblvrd]

We’ve Made Our Way to Here (1/1)

Summary: Gavin looks at the Vagabond, and instead of keeping his distance, moves closer. 

Takes to poking and prodding him the way he does the rest of the crew, drawing him in with random thoughts and questions because the man is a delight.

AO3

Gavin looks at the Vagabond, and instead of keeping his distance, moves closer.

Takes to poking and prodding him the way he does the rest of the crew, drawing him in with random thoughts and questions because the man is a delight>.

Aloof and menacing, living up to his reputation as the Vagabond.

And under it, he's fascinating, bit of a puzzle Gavin can't just leave alone.

To his surprise, the Vagabond bites back. Argues Gavin's thoughts and questions, bickering and bantering and engaging and it's lovely.

The others have long grown used to Gavin and the way his mind doesn't quite work the way most people’s do. Familiar with the odd twists and turns it takes, but the Vagabond is new, he doesn't know, and Gavin loves it.

Loves being a little troll just to see him get riled up, angry because Gavin keeps insisting he's right and the Vagabond is wrong, and damn the science of it while the others watch in varying degrees of amusement.

He snaps and snarls and utters low, menacing threats when they argue or when Gavin pokes and prods him, hoping to get a reaction, but it's all for show. Bark worse than his bite and all that, and oddly enough, he begins to -

Not relax, around them, but perhaps let his guard down.

Bit by bit, the longer he stays with the crew, gets to know them. Trust they won't turn on him, betray him, and it goes both ways.

Michael losing that wary, protective look to him when the Vagabond is around, joking with him and joining him in bullying Gavin. Ray remains the same, seemingly indifferent to the addition to the crew, offering up dry, sarcastic observations and one-liners. Jack talks cars with him, admiring that sleek Zentorno of his, a fitting car for someone like the Vagabond.

Geoff.

Well, Geoff's always been an oddity, but there's a smugness in his smile when his gaze sweeps across the crew, eyes lingering on the Vagabond's form.

And eventually the Vagabond becomes Ryan, becomes even more endearingly dorky and oddly, awkwardly sweet. Fumbling his words when his mouth races ahead of his brain, frowning and scowling at the others when they tease him for it, terrible hypocrites and shameless about it.

The Vagabond becomes Ryan becomes crew>, and something shifts in Los Santos at that, takes note.

========

Inevitably the day comes when things go badly, a meet turning sour and violence breaks out.

Gavin makes his way back to Ryan once it's all over and finds him staring at his handiwork, breath low and harsh, knuckles white where they're gripping his gun.

He meets Gavin's eyes for a moment, then deliberately turns his head away and suddenly he's back to being cold and aloof, dangerous.

Gavin looks around the room. At the bodies of people who had turned on them, years of loyalty nothing against greed and ambition and the slow-burn of resentment.

Ryan steps back when Gavin reaches out to him. Head snapping around, eyes narrowed behind the mask.

And Gavin.

This isn't new, this kind of betrayal, not in Los Santos at any rate. The Fakes have seen it before, and will continue to do so because that's the price of their own goals, ambitions in a city like this.

He knows Ryan's seen it before himself, has been hired to take part in it or put an end to it, seen it from the sidelines.

This is the first time Gavin's seen what Ryan's capable of as the Vagabond, and it's terrifying, but no more so than when it's any of the others, when it's Gavin himself.

“Oh, love,” Gavin says. “How do you think we got where we are?”

They're all monsters to the people of Los Santos, the Fakes, every single one of them.

Capable of such horrible atrocities in the name of protecting the crew, each other. For Geoff's dream of rising to the top and ruling Los Santos, temperamental and merciless city that it is.

Ryan cocks his head and glances at the people he's killed today.

Messy and ugly and lingering, in some instances. Not wholly intentional, but Gavin knows Ryan well enough to know he doesn't regret it, not after what these people had done, tried to do.

“Not like this, though,” Ryan says, like he's trying to scare Gavin off. Show him he's not like  the other Fakes, not safe, whatever that means.

And Gavin, he laughs.

Cold, brittle, and flips the knife he's holding. Easy, smooth, like it's an extension of himself.

Ryan watches it, light catching on the blade as it arcs through the air – tinted gold, because of course it is, the Golden Boy wouldn't possibly settle for less.

“You'd be surprised,” Gavin says, odd little smile playing around his mouth as he catches the knife and tucks it away. “You'd really be surprised, I think.”

========

It's that moment, above them all, that tips things over to the side of decidedly ill-advised between them.

Gavin's always been in Ryan's space, from the moment he first stepped into the penthouse to this.

Sprawled out beside him while some summer blockbuster plays on the television, Ryan methodically breaking down his weapons to clean him with the soothing sound of explosions and gunfire as a backdrop.

Gavin's idly poking at something on his laptop, warm and comfortable and content like this.

“Bullshit,” Ryan says, the way he counters Gavin's arguments. “Idiots don't know how C4 works.”

Gavin looks at the television where the antagonist is laying out a plan that would never, ever work in real life, and making some sort of declaration of love to his co-star while he's at it. Real multi-tasker, that one.

Sliding a glance at Ryan, he opens a new tab on his browser and does a quick search, eyebrows going up at the result he gets.

“The scriptwriter lives in Los Santos,” Gavin tosses out casually. “Think we should give him a tutorial on the stuff?”

Ryan tilts his head to look down at him, trying for something in the area of Functioning Adult and only making it to Easily Swayed Quasi-Adult.

“We shouldn't,” Ryan says, slowly, reluctantly. “It might bring attention to us.”

Which they don't need or want, with a heist in the offing, but -

“It's a crime, isn't it?” Gavin asks, waving a hand at the television where the antagonist is wiring some sort of contraption for what looks like an overly cliché heroic sacrifice. “What they're doing with that C4, I mean.”

He can see Ryan wavering, and bites back on his grin because he loves this about Ryan too. How he's up for causing all kinds of chaos and destruction for the fun of it. (For science.)

“I mean,” Ryan says, and Gavin can hear the grin in his voice, even if the mask obscures it. “You're not wrong, exactly.”

========

There are other moments, here and there, stolen or borrowed, and all the more precious for it.

Gavin wandering out to the balcony when Ryan can't sleep, eyes sleep-soft and hair an even wilder tangle than usual, and leans up next to him to start a conversation on something he read about online or saw in one of his documentaries. Gavin sweet talking Ryan into joining his team when Michael and Ray challenge him to multiplayer.

It goes from there, a comfortable sort of give and take and compromises on both their parts, and it works.

It works.

========

It's inevitable, isn't it.

People look at Gavin, and they see someone easy to manipulate, to break.

Doesn't matter if he's being the Golden Boy or that annoying piece of shit who hangs off the others and makes stupid bets with them. Coaxing or daring them until they give in. The one who wanders around the penthouse in old, worn hoodies and jeans and mismatched socks, looking like any other scruffy twenty-something in the world rather than a hardened criminal and key member of the Fakes.

They see Ramsey's Golden Boy, and zero in on those gold-framed sunglasses, the designer clothes.  They don't know it, but Gavin's accent changes when he's playing the Golden Boy.

Goes posh and arrogant and his body language shifts to accommodate it.

They see this rich kid running with the big boys and think, yes, him, he's the weak point,  and they try to drive a wedge between the Golden Boy and the Fakes.

Promise him more money than Ramsey could ever offer him, anything he wants, and all it'll cost is a little favor or two. Whisper a few secrets in their ears, and he can have it all. (They never stop to think, to wonder, what would someone like him possibly want?)

They see him when they bust into the safe house he's hunkered down in, Fakes scattered after a heist gone bad. See him with bandages dark with blood, hair flat and listless and dark circles under his eyes, exhausted, and hurting and so, so worried for his crew, his family.

There's a computer in front of him showing feeds from security cameras around Los Santos. Chatter coming from the police radio beside him nothing but white noise. Empty cans of Red Bull, a coffee mug with its contents gone cold hours ago.

They see him like this, defenses stripped from him and horribly, unbearably human and think, this one can lead us to the others.

========

When Gavin's taken, grabbed right out of the safe house and taken to some depressingly cliché warehouse days away from being condemned, he bends but doesn't break.

Offers up little tidbits of truth sprinkled in with the lies he spins easily as breathing.

Yes, the Vagabond works for the crew. Yes, he's bloody terrifying. No, Gavin doesn't know who he is under the mask, or where he might have gone to ground. (Perception plays a heavy part in the lies Gavin weaves, the bits of truth he doles out like breadcrumbs because people will fill in the blanks themselves as they grasp at them greedily, and do so beautifully.)

And so these people, lesser thugs in a city full of them, latch onto the things they see as weaknesses. See the shadow of bruises on his arms, his neck from miscalculations during the setup for the failed heist, roughhousing with Michael. Sheer clumsiness on Gavin's part.

They see the way he shudders away dramatically from one of them when they press lightly on one dark purple edged in green and painful looking, and conclusions are made.

Empty promises are given, because Gavin knows once they have what they want he won't be leaving this building alive. Promises that Gavin won't need to worry about the Fakes, about the Vagabond ever again if he just helps them out. Give them an idea as to where they might be, just a starting point, they'll handle the rest.

Through it all, these thugs, these idiots, forget that the bedraggled figure they came upon in that safe house is the Golden Boy.

Ramsey's Golden Boy.

The one who runs with the big boys and hasn't stumbled once, hasn't fallen in all this time.

He carries knives, the Golden Boy.

Tinted gold, but cold steel at their core. They're gone, now, taken away along with his gun and other assorted weapons, but they missed one.

Not his weapon of choice, too personal, but needs must and he's alone with the others spread about the city.

The Golden Boy's shoes are lovely, lovely things. Fine leather and elegant stitching and a false compartment in the heels, shoelaces that don't come standard.

But the thing of it is, Gavin hasn't always been the Golden Boy, hasn't always been Ramsey's.

Before this, before Los Santos, he was someone, along with Dan, something that only a few people know about. (Gavin's gone to a lot of effort to make sure of that.)

So when these lesser thugs in a city full of them thinks he's just Ramsey's Golden boy, a pretty little pet and nothing more, that's their own mistake, isn't it? Nothing is ever what it seems in this city, ever so simple.

Pain is nothing new, although it is sharp and brutal and has him gagging as he breaks his thumb, slipping his hand  free of the metal cuffs. Shaky and unsteady he reaches for his shoes, timer in his head ticking down.

He leaves the shoelaces for now, not long enough for what he needs, and goes for the secret compartment.

The others had laughed when he told them about them, an old trick used by British servicemen and their allies during the Second World War. A bit of history that had fascinated him from the moment he learned about it.

The room he's been locked up had been used as storage in the past, solid walls and a door with at least one man guarding it on the other side. A handful more wandering the building, left behind to keep an eye on him while the rest went to check the veracity of the information he gave them.

In one heel rests a coil of wire, not Gavin's preferred weapon, but needs must, and he's alone. The others are spread about Los Santos, waiting for the heat to die down from the heist.

No point in waiting for rescue that won't come if they don't know to mount one.

It doesn't take much to get the guard's attention in the end.

Gavin borrows a page out of a movie and plays sick, tucking himself just out of sight and darting forwards to loop the garrote around his neck, and pulls. Feels the guard’s feet start to slip, stumble, from the force of it, hands coming up to scrabble at the wire digging into his throat as panic sets in.

Pain is singing through his hand, his arm, blinding spear of it in his head and still Gavin holds on. Breathing ragged, his own heart beating a terrified rhythm in his chest as he counts down in his head until the struggling stops. He holds on moment longer, gives the garrote a tug and when there's no reaction relaxes, breath rush out out of him as he crouches. Patting the guard lightly until he finds his gun, checks to make sure it's loaded and plucks a spare magazine from the inner pocket of his jacket.

Stands and sweeps out into the hall, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the shift in lighting before he moves.

Runs into a thug when he turns a corner and drops him with two shots to the chest. Stepping over him as he continues on, movements quicker now that the others have been alerted. It's less a running gunfight and more of a twisted, deadly game of hide and seek.

He takes out one more before things take a turn, bullet tearing through his side and he ducks for cover a moment too late. Draws in air like he's drowning, teeth gritted and fire long his ribs, gunshots pinging off the rusted out machine he's hiding behind.

“Come on out, Goldie!” someone calls, hard and mocking and no mercy in it. “I just want to talk!”

Gavin scoffs at that as another bullet sends up sparks too close to his head and he inches deeper into cover. Head pounding, body at its limits but still not done here, nowhere near close.

“Bloody hell,” Gavin whispers, resting his head against the hulking machine at his back and reaching for focus.

The bullet wound is just a graze, bleeding steadily and painful. Sapping his already flagging energy. He won't last long like this, might not make it out of this damned warehouse, and the thought burns.

Cold and sharp, an ache in his chest that has nothing to do with his injuries and everything to do with the others, crew and friend and family, all.

There's a lull in the gunfire, enough to have him cautiously hopeful, last little sliver of it left to him, and hears cursing. Low and angry and frustrated and then stomping feet, heedless of potential danger as they stride toward him.

“Last fucking chance, Goldie,” and there's arrogance in it, confidence that Gavin's out of ammunition, is at a disadvantage.

Smaller than the men who took him, lean and wiry against their looming bulk, and men like them always look at Gavin and see someone weaker than them, someone they can break.

Gavin smiles to himself, devoid of humor, and waits. Tracks footsteps and pictures the layout of the room in his head, obstacles and cover and angles. Shifts to circle around the machinery at his back, edging around it to get a peek, a glimpse, and sees the thug half-turned away, and takes his chance.

He's decent with a gun, when adrenaline and fear aren't present, when his life isn't at stake, and shades worse when it is.

Misses the first shot, and the second merely clips the man. Knocking him back a step, but he's already firing, low from the hip, spitting curses and threats and stumbling like a drunkard.

The third shot is a mistake, jolt of pain jerking the gun higher so the bullet his the man's neck and passes through in a spray of blood and gore, gurgling wetly as he drops, and Gavin's hand trembles as he lowers his gun.

“Christ.”

Gavin turns sharply at that, the sound of running footsteps and harsh breathing, vision spinning, blurring and -

“Gavin? Gav?”

And there's Michael, and Geoff and the others, Ryan moving forward to check the man Gavin just shot, sliding a concerned look at Gavin when he walks past, shoulder brushing Gavin's.

“What,” Gavin stops, has to clear his throat because his voice is rough and scratchy and hurts. “What are you doing here?”

Because they shouldn't be here. Should be tucked away nice and safe in their own safe houses, boltholes, until the support team sounds the all clear, not.

Not chasing after Gavin and the messes he manages to get himself into, even if he doesn't know who these people are or why they took him.

Well, besides the obvious, but there are a lot of people on Los Santos after the Fakes, hoping to bring them down and the aftermath of a heist gone bad would have seemed like opportunity knocking to them.

Michael and Geoff exchange a look, Ray mutters something to Jack who Jack rolls his eyes before he goes to Gavin. Eyes meeting his, asking for permission before he starts looking him over for injuries, expression darkening at what he finds.

“Ryan.” Geoff says, as he surveys the room, going for calm, even though it's clear he's angry. Hands shaking as he tucks them neatly in his pockets to hide it. Eyes following Jeremy and Trevor as they slide out of the shadows, coordinating with the support team to make sure the rest of the building is clear. “Asshole got antsy, went looking for us.”

Ryan grunts, rising to his feet and walks over.

“Well in my defense,” he says, like he always does. “It was a good idea, wasn't it.”

Geoff's eyes flash, angry and annoyed that Ryan didn't fucking listen, knew better than to run around nilly willy with the cops and half of Los Santos after them. When they didn't know who they could trust outside the crew.

“We're gonna have a talk about that later,” Geoff decides, and when Jeremy and Trevor get the all clear, gives a sharp nod. “Let's just get the hell out of here before this place falls down on us.”

========

“Ray and I were going to swap the wire out with condoms and lube packets to get you back for last week,” Michael says out of nowhere when they're back at one of the safe houses. “Good thing we didn't, huh?”

Gavin blinks at Michael, slow, because the world is blurry and soft and whatever they gave him when they patched him up is lovely.

“Might have made escaping a bit more difficult, yeah,” Gavin says.

He hasn't made a habit of checking the secret compartment of his shoes the way he does with his weapons, his parachute. Used to think of it more of a novelty than anything else, result of a several weeks worth of research, and trial and error that cost him several pairs of shoes until he got it right.

Michael smiles, gently ruffling Gavin's hair as he gets up to leave. “Get some sleep, idiot,” he says fondly, and then it's Gavin and Ryan and a bit of awkwardness.

“You make a lovely pillow Ryan,” Gavin says, words slurring faintly. “Lovely, Ryan.”

Ryan snorts, careful as he makes himself more comfortable.

The couch is an abomination, ugly fabric pattern and even uglier texture, but it's soft and comfortable and Gavin honestly doubts he could make it to one of the bedrooms in his state. Ryan would help, lovely, lovely, Ryan, but then he'd leave, or sit silent, vaguely creepy vigil beside the small bed, and that is unthinkable.

“You're going to regret this,” Ryan says, because he knows Gavin, how he'll complain about the crick in his neck, aching joints, and sore back on top of his other hurts.

“It's possible,” Gavin says, too tired to care, passing it off as a problem for his future self to handle. (That's caused him enough headaches in the past, certainly, but right now he honestly doesn't care.)

Ryan laughs, settling down against him, “Yeah, just try to remember that tomorrow.”

Tomorrow is forever away, and full of things, concerns.

The failed heist, and the men who took Gavin, and a hundred other things he can't get a firm grasp just now, thanks to a lovely mix of painkillers and exhaustion, so he stops trying. Lets go of the worry that was steadily eating away at him the moment the heist went wrong, bullets and yelling and Geoff ordering them to get out, for fuck's sake, fucking get out and find somewhere safe to hole up.

Ryan sighs, fingers coming through Gavin's hair, blunt nails scratching just so, and goes boneless. Thinks he'd purr, if he was a cat.

“God, you would, wouldn't you?” Ryan asks, laughter in his voice, and Gavin realizes he might be speaking out loud.

“You are,” Ryan says, so very, very amused.

Gavin hums, eyelids growing heavier and thinks he manages a passable retort before sleep rolls him under,  Ryan a reassuring presence at his back.

[zoesrhees]

so there are tons and tons of new people and i have been alarmingly sporadic with my activity because my work life is literally crushing me it’s great!!! anyway i’m shannon & underneath the read more are little(not so little and totally unorganized) blurbs about each of my characters in case anyone wants to plot!!

zoe; (arden cho) sophomore, 20, pre-law, kappa gamma kappa vp; originally from san antonio, tx but moved to pa right before she started high-school, cheerleader, big dumb idiot  basically, a mash between ally mcbeal and elle woods, incidentally they are both her heroes, though she knows ally had her share of problems, she’s very much got a similar mindset. zoe does try to be a good person, she’s smart, loyal and sweet but often can be selfish, stubborn and shallow. generally nice to get along with, she’s not much trouble but isn’t afraid to stick up for herself and once she decides to stand her ground that is it. not the best at doing so of course, that person that will think of a comeback HOURS later instead. hopeless romantic who is in love w/ love, she’s a sucker for anything cute and heartfelt, really wants to have her own modern love story, but also afraid of being burned or being the only one to fall, does stupid shit literally all the time honestly, sticks her foot in her mouth a lot, doesn’t know how to react in uncomfortable situations and will literally RUN AWAY from you, just a big ole sucker, really sweet, really friendly, loves everyone even when not every loves her. serial dater, would love some exes if they only dated a few times, etc etc.

hunter; (chelsey reist) 23, junior, sociology major, omega alpha chi, from Savannah, GA & California in her teens, field hockey co-cap, she’s just a lil slice of gay apple pie honestly. grew up in the south when she was younger, lived in california for a few years and fell in love with her next door neighbor before her parents ripped her away, her family basically disowned her and she was ready to run away at sixteen when her brother offered to go with her, they were pretty much homeless for two years and did a lot of semi shady shit, she got her ged, went to community college and worked her ASS OFF to get where she is now, had a lot of disdain for her mom and dad who were very conservative and very ashamed and she turned into a very sour girl. hateful and disrespectful towards her family she is definitely not over how they hurt her. extremely defensive over her big brother, heinous but fiercely loyal, don’t fuck with the people she cares about or she will come after you until you never want to see her face again and regret your decisions, extremely persistent, extreme asshole, not afraid to drag anyone she likes to use men for money, a lot. secretly misses her parents and wishes they loved her, not coping with the idea that they dont.

bruno;(jarod joseph) 21, junior, graphic design major, psi delta social chair. originally from australia but lived in new york part of the time, too bruno is literally everyone’s friend. there’s no making an enemy out of this guy, he’s genuine, sincere and really fucking nice. also really high ALL the time, likes to draw and paint, really into grafitti like wants to be the next bansky and shit. when he was young his parents died and he was adopted by his godparents aka luna and rocky’s parents and he grew up with them extremely protective of both of them, luna is LITERALLY HIS rock like he would be lost without her and he loves rocky more than air like its the BROMANCE to end all bromances. it’s hard to see him in a low mood. very sensitive, really in touch with his feelings and shit, will literally give you the shirt off his back, super passionate about mashed potatoes honestly. if you’re a nice person, bruno is your friend and if you’re not a nice person he’s going to try anyway

ruby;(marie avgeropoulos) 20, sophomore, marine biology major, kappa gamma kappa, gymnastics team co-cap, originally from australia actually the nicest person you will ever meet, puts everyone’s needs before her own and is extremely worrisome, self-blaming and self-deprecating. tries hard to be happy for everyone she knows and loves because she knows they’re not all. obsessive over every little thing and vehemently wants people to like her, loves with her whole heart no matter who it is, big science dork, very into gymnastics, doesn’t drink much, doesn’t do drugs and just really pure, has a shaky family past but her siblings are her world, afraid of anything happening to them, literally terrified of losing her big brother because they’re so close, passionate, open, honest and genuine, tries to push away the fact that her past has turned her into a sad bean and puts on a smile for everyone.

true; (ricky whittle) 25, senior, pre-med major,epsilon kappa tau vp, spent a lot of his time in paris before going to college, he chose to defer his first year but after a bad motorcycle accident he ended up starting very late anyway grumpy old man that would be walter mathau to shame. lived in paris for a few years where he met the LOVE of his life holy shit, after she left he got into a pretty bad motorcycle accident that fucked with his leg so now he walks with a cane and takes a lot of pain pills.  cynical as all hell, rarely smiles, mean to everyone except for his sister, probably still has a vcr and a member’s only jacket because he is SO behind the times. studying to be a doctor, only rushed greek because of his parents and his little sister hope, his older sisters are extremely driven and successful and he feels the need to be too, hard living in their shadow their parents impress so many values on them. has been less miserable nowadays but still just has a permanent raincloud over his head. think dr. house meets munch from svu honestly.

bellamy; (caitlin stasey) 20, junior, astrophysics major, tau alpha zeta pres, softball team, from new iberia, la, your basic human trash can, she’s a slob, crass and hardly cares what anyone thinks of her both personally and physically, thinks she’s hilarious as hell but is really just super lame and stupid as hell, meme queen, really gross, makes a lot of stupid rash decisions “for the vine” even though vine is dead now, fierce friend, HUGE know it all, she might act stupid as all hell but she’s actually brilliant and is that sort of asshole that will not hesitate to correct you, space gay, loves looking at stars and definitely thinks aliens are real, really close to her brothers and her cousins, family is everything, lil cutie farm girl that loves all sorts of science and agriculture, has had a her heart broken a time or two but is really good at pretending everything is okay because that’s just what she does, laughs everything off. fiercely loyal friend, hoping to be sponsored in life by taco bell one day.

jonah jackson; (max irons) 21, junior, mathematics major, kappa alpha lambda member, co-captain of the basketball team from florence, ky extremely insufferable at times, arrogant jackass has been called a fuckboy but it’s not really all that fitting. he goes by jackson because his dad’s first name is jonah and he refuses to have anything to do with him, papa dahl ditched the fam when his younger brother was born and his mom took up two-three jobs to put food on the table which means he took the role of caretaker, exhausting him when he was younger but he’s really loyal and reliable. super poor and worries about what other people will think of this, here on an academic scholarship but fears being pegged as a gasp! nerd so he tells everyone it’s actually a basketball scholarship, thinks he’s charming af, natural flirt, obnoxiously good at math, really hard hard working and dedicated but loves to have fun, just all around garbage sap boy honestly