#THE WHOLE POINT IS THAT SHE REFUSES TO ENGAGE WITH HIS BULLSHIT

[skiitter]

Sometimes I feel crazy when people say that Lav should be a beacon of understanding and forgiveness for Solas at all times. Girl what???? She CHALLENGED him at every turn. Fought him on his wackass hatred of the Dalish, fought him in Trespasser no matter the disposition/choice, fought him when he gave that weak reason for leaving her. She constantly has him on his toes because she does not defer to him when she disagrees with him. Solas is SO single minded (something something he’s a spirit) and his POV is very narrow and Lav is out here like “No bitch!!! Open your fucking eyes babe!!!” She’s not a yes-man. She loves him of course but love is NOT an unequivocal acceptance of someone. She challenges him to be the best version of himself. That’s why she was so good at convincing him thus him leaving her behind. Because she sees through his bullshit attempts to justify things and loves him enough to make him pick the better path. ITS WHY SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO CONVINCE HIM IN THE END. Because SHE knows who Solas is better than anyone alive and that is an impossibly intimate and vulnerable thing.

[bobohu4eva]

Ecstasy

Part 6 - Cry for Love

Genre: Soloist!Baekhyun x Reader, angst, fluff, smut 18+ audiences only MDNI

WC: 5.7k

Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato23-blog @baekyeonoreo

Warnings for this chapter: smut (non explicit), alcohol consumption, drug use

Masterlist

Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

“You’re a dumbass, you know that right?” 

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. I know I fucked up. I don’t even know what to say to her anymore.”

Chanyeol let out a long sigh, trying to muster up some sympathy for his friend's predicament, but finding it quite difficult. He’d seen it coming, more or less. Something terrible was bound to happen with how reckless Baekhyun was being. He took a sip of his beer before setting it back down on the bar, doing his best to at least look sorry for his friend when he glanced back at him. 

“You’ve tried calling her right?”

“No, well not since that day at least. I don’t know if I should. Her friend told me not to, and I get it. But I really do want to see her again, and apologize.” 

The whole time Baekhyun stared, seemingly into nothingness. He hated how much he missed her, even after only a few days. 

“You should at least call to apologize, you owe her that much.”

“What if she doesn’t want to hear from me at all? I don’t want to make things even worse.” 

“Just call. The worst she can do is not pick up.” 

“And if she does? What would I even say?”

“The truth.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“You don’t say.” 

Baekhyun chugged down his drink, getting the bartender's attention and ordering another round. He was already drunk, but it still wasn’t enough to erase what he felt. 

“Why did you freak out so bad? I mean she told you she didn’t mean it. I know acid is one hell of a drug but jesus. You were way too goddamn harsh.” 

“I almost said it back.” He responded, staring blankly at the counter before him. 

Chanyeol's eyes went wide. 

“I was so upset that that even crossed my mind. And if I had said it, who fucking knows what would’ve happened.”

“Well, do you?” 

Baekhyun just glared at him, refusing to say anything. 

“You clearly care about her a lot, I don’t know why you can’t just admit that. I think she could be really good for you, if you just got over your own bullshit.”

Baekhyun leaned forward until his forehead was on the bar, both hands on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember ever resenting himself so deeply, and that was saying something. 

Chanyeol was right, and they both knew it. 

The guilt made it hard to do anything more than drink himself into numbness. He'd probably ruined any chance he had at something real with her, even if that in itself also made him uncomfortable. As much as he wanted to try and fix things, he knew deep down that he'd probably just end up hurting her again anyway. In the end though, the side of him that still wanted her was much stronger, and far less rational.

Every time he thought about that day, and how she must've felt after he kicked her out of his apartment, his chest would get tight, the dread quickly becoming more than he could handle. He’d had an awful time himself, the trip turning downright terrifying, and he’d been inside his own apartment the whole time. Outside, alone, she must’ve felt she was in a living nightmare. He was disgusted with himself, with how cruel he’d become, and all because of a few words that she didn’t even mean. 

Eventually he decided that it would be worse not to say anything. Even if she didn’t want to hear from him, he had to at least try to tell her how sorry he was, otherwise the guilt would keep chipping away at his sanity until it consumed him whole. 

It took a while for him to get to the point where he actually had the strength to pick up the phone and pull up her contact. Even then, he just sat in his apartment, staring at his phone, debating with himself. He wasn’t sure what made him more nervous, the idea of talking to her after he’d fucked up so badly, or the very real possibility that she would simply decline the call all together. Losing her completely was more terrifying than he was willing to admit to himself. 

Finally, he called. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest as he listened to it ring, trying to take deep breaths to calm himself with little success. When she picked up, his heart nearly stopped. He tried to say something, but his voice failed him.

“Baekhyun?” 

“Hi.” He eventually managed to get out, painfully aware of how stupid he sounded. He took another deep breath, finally gathering himself a bit before continuing. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

She didn’t say anything. She could hear the lack of consistency in his voice. 

“I don’t know what to say, I’m just so fucking sorry. I know I fucked up.” 

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you kick me out?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He heard her sigh in disappointment. It was a lie of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. 

“Look, I appreciate the apology, but I really don’t want to do this over the phone. If you have anything you need to say to me, I’d rather hear it in person.” 

She hung up before he could respond, and he wasted no time getting into his car to drive to her place. 

Her pain had been unbearable. Even after several days sober his harshness stayed with her, bringing with it a constant dull ache in her chest. She barely ate or slept, but knowing that he at least seemed to feel bad about what he’d done gave her a bit of relief.

Despite Suhyun’s insistence that she cut him off completely, she’d still been waiting, hoping to hear something. She wanted an apology, an explanation, something that would help her feel a bit better, and she wanted him to look her in the eyes as he said it.

The knock on her door, not even 30 minutes after hanging up the phone, came as a shock. 

On the other side, Baekhyun worried he might actually pass out. He assumed that she would tell him how awful he was and then send him right back home, and he thought he was mentally prepared for that, but once he was actually there he realized how wrong he’d been. The ground seemed to sway beneath him, his stomach twisting, threatening to expel the lunch he'd just had. 

The door swung open and they met eyes, Baekhyun bracing himself for the worst.

She let him in, and his expression was something she’d never seen before. His eyes were glassy, the anxiety behind them clear as day. She could see the nervous tension in the way he fidgeted, hands clammy, heart racing. 

His eyes squeezed shut, and he mustered up all the courage he could, though still feeling utterly pitiful.

“I know you probably hate me and never want to see me again, but I need you to know how awful I feel about what I did. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am.” He eventually said, barely keeping it together. 

To his shock, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Tears soon dampened her forehead, feeling the quiet tremors of his chest as he fell apart. He held her close, cradling her against his chest, the closeness allowing his body to fully relax for the first time in nearly a week. Somehow though, he felt even guiltier than if she’d told him off, at least he would've deserved that.

 As hurt as she might’ve been, she’d still missed him. That day, before everything went downhill, he'd shown her a kind of happiness she hadn’t even known was possible. And even before that, when she was with him, the good moments were so powerful that they easily overshadowed all the bad. Nobody else had ever made her feel that before. 

She didn’t want whatever they had to end, even though she knew logically that it would be idiotic to forgive him after he’d been so cruel. She cared about him too much, she was too attached, she still wanted him despite it all, and that was probably the worst part. Despite how terrible he'd made her feel that day, the potential for good was still there. The good times she'd had with him were some of the best of her life, and giving that up wasn't easy. For her, it was impossible. The highs were so high, that the lows were somehow still worth dealing with. 

It didn’t make sense, he'd been absolutely certain that she'd be furious. 

“How do you not hate me right now? Are you really not mad at me?” 

She looked up at him, one hand coming to cup his damp cheek, tears of her own coming to mirror his. It was strange to see him of all people cry, but oddly comforting, too. It told her just how much he regretted what he’d done, that he cared, that he hated how badly he’d hurt her. He’d never shown that sort of vulnerability before, the cool facade he usually put on, now completely shattered. It gave her the reassurance she'd been craving so badly. Maybe forgiving him wouldn't be so dumb after all, since he'd hopefully never hurt her like that again. 

“I don’t hate you. I’m just glad you’re sorry, I was so worried that you were still mad at me, since I didn’t hear from you. I thought I ruined everything.” 

He quickly shook his head. “Of course I’m not mad at you, if anyone ruined anything it was me. I never had a right to be angry with you in the first place, I was being completely awful and irrational.” 

She couldn’t help the small smile that crept its way onto her lips, finally assured that he didn’t harbor any resentment towards her for what she’d said, that he felt genuine remorse. 

“I was afraid to call after that day because I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear from me, or if it would be best to just leave you alone. Your friend told me not to contact you, and I can see where she’s coming from.”

“When did you talk to my friend?”

“I called you later that day. Once I snapped out of my own bullshit I realized how unsafe it was for you to be outside alone like that and I wanted to make sure you were okay, and apologize. She answered and told me not to contact you anymore, that I’ve fucked up your life enough already, and she’s probably right about that.” 

“She never even mentioned that you called.” She pouted, making a mental note to call Suhyun out next time they met up. 

“I’m glad she was there. I was so scared something happened to you, at least when she picked up I knew you were safe.” 

“You know, I might not hate you, but I am still mad at you. I wish you could at least tell me why you reacted like that.” 

As forgiving as she was, the awfulness of that day was impossible to forget. The drug caused her fear and confusion to materialize in everything she saw, victimizing her until the high eventually faded, and the horror of it stuck with her. That was something she couldn't let go so easily.

He ran one hand through his hair, and when he didn’t answer right away she pulled him along with her to sit down on the couch. 

“I wish I could explain it to you, something in me just.. snapped. There’s a reason I don’t do relationships, that kind of stuff, it fucks with my head.” 

She swallowed, painfully reminded of that hard truth. “Why?” 

He shook his head, if he tried to explain everything they’d probably be there all day, and she’d never be able to see him the same way again. He wouldn’t be able to get it all out without more tears, either. That was a can of worms he just couldn’t get into.

“You should’ve taken it as a compliment you know, you fucked me so good I thought I was in love with you.” 

He forced a smile, but even that caused something unpleasant to twist up inside him. 

“If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just tell me and I’ll do it.” 

She shrugged. It was clear that he'd never be able to give her what she really wanted anyway. 

Still, at least he cared for her. He wouldn't have gotten so emotional if she didn't mean something to him. 

“Are you busy today?” He asked. 

“Not really, no.” 

“I could order us something to eat, or we could go somewhere, whatever you want. I just- I missed you.” 

‘I missed you.’

Even if it would be short lived, she wanted to enjoy the new sensitivity he was finally showing her, so she agreed. 

They stayed at her place, ordering in and opening up a bottle of wine. It wasn’t long at all until they both settled comfortably into the couch, still more relieved than anything. She’d missed him just as much. 

She’d grown used to the confident, wild, sexy side of him, but now, something about him felt fundamentally different. Maybe it was the fact that she’d seen him cry, but whatever it was, it felt warmer, softer, a side of him she knew very few people got to see. 

They spent hours on her couch together in comfortable silence, the show on the TV long forgotten as they kissed and held each other. She’d laid herself atop his chest, one hand landing on her waist, and the other at the nape of her neck, keeping her lips glued to his own. 

His touch was gentle, enjoying the warmth and softness of her skin after having missed her so much. The path his hands took across her back, shoulders, and neck full of adoration. He never ventured any further, because it didn't feel appropriate, he didn't want her to think that he'd only come back for sex. Just getting to kiss and touch her again already felt like a small miracle. 

However that didn't stop his body from reacting to her, now that she lay flush to his chest between his parted legs. As she deepened the kisses her body sunk into him even further, and she felt the line of hardness beneath his sweats. When she rocked her pelvis into him, he let out a groan, hands holding firmly onto her hips.

“Fuck, don't do that.” 

Their eyes met, and she pouted at him, “Why not?”

“I don't think this is a good idea, I came over here to apologize, not try to get you to sleep with me again.” 

As he spoke her lips attached themselves to his neck, leaving a path of soft kisses from his jaw down to the collar of his shirt. “And if I want to anyway?” 

She pulled his shirt down a bit and sucked on the skin of his collarbone, eliciting another moan. 

“You're sure about this?” 

“You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” 

Part of her was skeptical, too, but as always, her desire for him overpowered any trace of caution. His touch, his voice, it all drew her in beyond the bounds of reason. She just wanted to feel close to him. Laying there together innocently had been nice, but she inevitably slipped into more troublesome desires. 

Baekhyun didn't respond, instead, his hands finally slid beneath the threshold of her clothes. The warmth of her skin beneath his hands caused him to sigh. He, too, had missed this.  

The sex felt like an apology. Where he’d been hungry, even desperate, in the past, he now took his time. It wasn’t one night stand sex, or even meaningless fling sex. It was the kind of sex that happens when two people know and care about each other. She let him set the pace, and he decided to be slow and intentional, he set that tone. The praises that passed his lips lost their teasing edge, his gratitude stronger than his usual desire to frustrate her.  More than anything he wanted to savor this, to show her his devotion the only way he knew how. 

Several orgasms later, they both collapsed into a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs on her couch. Baekhyun still refused to let go, keeping her in his arms for as long as she would allow, which turned out to be a good long while, much to his delight. 

Baekhyun hadn’t intended to spend the entire day with her in such a way, he was just so relieved that she didn’t hate him. Somehow his head ended up on her lap, and when she began to play with his hair, a satisfied sigh left him. He'd always loved the feeling, and how easily it would relax him. 

Several sleepless nights had left him exhausted, and as her hands stayed in his hair, he drifted off to sleep, resting more peacefully than he had in a long time. 

His sleeping face brought a smile to her own. She didn’t move, letting him use her as a pillow and nap through the afternoon. Every once in a while she would notice a change in his expression, brows knit in what seemed like distress, and she wondered what he could be dreaming about. So much of his mind was still a mystery to her, one that she desperately wanted to solve. 

When he eventually woke back up it was already dark outside, and he figured it was time to head home. He didn't want to leave, and even thought about asking her to let him spend the night, but after everything it just didn't feel right. He didn't want to overstay his welcome. 

“Has anyone talked to you about the anniversary party yet?” He asked as he got his things together. 

She shook her head. 

“It’s a fairly big thing the company does every year, it’s mostly for artists and higher ups, and I know I’m going, so I was wondering if you wanted to come as my date?” 

‘Date’

That one word was so unexpected coming from him, she found herself momentarily frozen. 

“Uh.. sure, yeah. When is it?”

He told her the details, and she still couldn't shake the implications of that one word. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she wondered if maybe he was finally ready to at least hint at something more serious between them. 

The day of he picked her up as usual, noticing the fitted suit he wore as she got into his car. She knew it was a rather formal affair, but he looked so handsome, she still became a little nervous. 

“You look beautiful,” He murmured, looking her up and down before leaning in for a quick kiss. 

The event was held in the largest ballroom of a luxury hotel full of opulent decorations, and even had a gorgeous outdoor area lit up for the approaching holidays. She'd worn one of her favorite dresses, but even so, she felt a little silly walking in together, arm in arm with him. The guest list was full of a-list celebrities, both from their company, as well as some others, along with various executives. She felt all the familiar uncertainties from the first night she'd met him rush back. 

He must've sensed how tense she became, squeezing her hand and giving her a reassuring smile. The softness of it had her leaning further into him. 

She looked up at him, his profile outlined by the lights of the party, and she remembered just who she was there with. And not only that, but he'd said it himself, she was his date. 

It emboldened her, knowing that no matter Baekhyun's history or reputation, she was the one on his arm, and the one he’d be going home with after. 

They headed towards the bar for a drink, and she still remained quiet, too deep in thought to get anything out.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” He told her, “let's just try to have a good time, yeah?” 

He pulled out a chair for her and they took a seat, each ordering their first round of the night. Baekhyun did his best to lighten the mood, complimenting her, joking around and flirting all in an attempt to see her smile. And it worked for the most part, though the constant interruptions always pulled her right back into her insecurities.

Every few minutes someone would come up to him, and he would talk to them as if she wasn't even there. By the third time, she started to wonder why she'd been invited at all. 

She'd been zoning out, staring at the array of bottles behind the bar when she heard her name. When she looked up, she saw a familiar face. 

Joohyun. The same woman he'd ditched her for at Chanyeol’s birthday. 

Baekhyun had introduced her, and Joohyun raised an eyebrow at the sight of them. 

“You're here together?” Joohyun asked, a glimpse of something sinister in her eyes. Her face, beautiful as she was, did little to hide the ugliness apparent underneath. 

She started to nod but Baekhyun spoke up first. “We're just friends.” 

Joohyun smirked, letting her hand rest on his shoulder. “Well, it's always good to see you.” 

She turned to walk away, and as Baekhyun looked back at his date, it became apparent how pissed she was. 

She chugged down the rest of her drink, slamming the glass down on the bar and getting up. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, following her. 

“Really _____?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I can see you're mad, don't you think you're being a little dramatic?” 

“I thought I was your date! We sure as hell aren't just friends, and for you to say that to her of all people? After what happened on Chanyeol’s birthday? Really?” 

“What else would we be if not friends, hm? As far as I'm concerned we are just friends.” 

“I know you care about me as more than a friend” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, a bitter look overtaking his face. “Do I?” 

She scoffed, “You're unbelievable.” 

With that she turned, walking away but he took hold of her wrist, pulling her back towards him. “Where do you think you're going?” 

“Home. I don't want to be here anymore.” 

“No the fuck you're not.” 

“Baekhyun, let go of me.”

He didn’t. “You’re being ridiculous.” 

“No. I’m sick of you being hot and cold with me. You don’t get to treat me like that.” 

His grip on her gave way, but she didn’t leave yet. His lips pressed together as his eyes squeezed shut, a heavy sigh leaving him. 

“Okay. I get it. But please, stay. You don't have to talk to me. Just let me take you home later.” 

“Take me home with you? Seriously?” 

“It doesn’t have to be with me. I can just drop you off.” 

She glared at him, almost scoffing again, but decided to just turn and walk away. When he took hold of her arm again, she glared. “If I’m staying, you could at least let me get another drink.” 

He watched her sit down by herself, ordering something that looked strong. 

As she sipped on her drink, she scanned the room, hoping she'd at least recognize someone. She'd almost given up, accepting that she'd probably end up drinking alone until Baekhyun was ready to go, but then she felt a tap on her shoulder. 

Chanyoel’s smile was a welcome sight, as he sat himself down next to her at the bar. 

“Hi! How are you? Are you here with Baekhyun?” He asked. 

“Hi, yeah. Unfortunately.” 

“Why's that unfortunate?” 

She shook her head, “You were right about him, I fear.” 

Chanyeol hummed in acknowledgment, it wasn't hard for him to imagine what could be going on. 

“He's being an ass?” 

“Yeah. I just don't get it. One day he's being really sweet, and then he turns around and acts like that was all bullshit. I'm tired of it. I wanted to go home, but for some reason he wants me to stay.” 

“So? You can still leave. Who cares what he wants.” 

She took a long sip of her drink. 

“I don't want to make him mad.” 

Chanyeol looked a bit confused, but still nodded. “Well, I'm here if you want company. It's a great party, it would be a shame to spend the whole night sulking at the bar.” 

“Thank you.” 

Soon his drink arrived, and he clinked the glass against hers. 

Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen as the two made light conversation, and she was grateful to take her mind off him for a bit. 

Chanyeol, now a bit tipsy, and knowing well that she wasn't pleased with his friend, seized the opportunity. He wasn't usually much of a flirt, but with her it came easily. 

His compliments cheered her up enough that eventually even his dumb jokes brought a smile to her face. When both drinks were gone and he asked her to dance, she gladly accepted. 

They stood, but he pulled her aside before they could make it to the dance floor. Now that they had a bit more privacy, he pulled something out of his pocket. 

Pills. The same ones from the night of his birthday. 

“Do you want one?” He asked, popping one for himself. She considered it for a moment, and with the night being fairly young, and Baekhyun still lingering in the back of her mind, she decided to go for it. His being a jerk didn't mean she couldn't still enjoy herself. 

Dancing with Chanyeol was nice. He was respectful, his hands never venturing further than her hips or waist. He was taller, and overall larger than Baekhyun, which was probably the biggest difference she felt between the two men. She liked that about him, that he made her feel distinctly different than Baekhyun did. Baekhyun was all bold words and risky touches, while Chanyeol was quieter, more cautious. Baekhyun's hands were slender, softer, when they held onto her, delicate in their teasing touches. Chanyeol’s were calloused, stronger, anchoring her without demanding anything more. 

The change of pace was well appreciated, even more so as the drug further loosened her up. She knew that Chanyeol was interested in her, sexually, romantically, or otherwise, but she didn't care. She knew he wouldn't cross any lines, especially not with Baekhyun nearby. 

Eventually the drug in tandem with the crowd of bodies on the dance floor forced the two to catch a breather, ending up outside on a large balcony overlooking the city. It was quieter there, with only a few other people tolerating the cool breeze.

As she looked out at the city, and then back at Chanyeol, she had to fight back a grin. Here she was, on a beautiful, opulent hotel balcony overlooking one of the coolest cities in the world, with a devastatingly handsome rockstar at her side. Baekhyun was the last thing on her mind at that point, she was fully enraptured by the party, the drug, and the man now stepping closer to her. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, though he could see it on her face, how happy she was. She didn’t say anything, her smile speaking for itself. 

“This is nice.” She said, “Really, really nice.” 

Chanyeol nodded in agreement, and when their eyes met this time, neither could seem to look away. They both moved closer, the distance growing smaller and smaller, and out of instinct more than anything else, she threw her arms around his neck. 

With the Seoul skyline as their backdrop, their lips met. Chanyeol took half a step back at first, surprised by her boldness, though he quickly leaned back into her. The kiss was sweet, just testing the waters, enjoying the new sensation amidst the rush of the high. 

When Baekhyun shoved his friend away from her, she initially gasped. But once the surprise wore off, the abundance of happy chemicals in her brain kept her from feeling even the slightest bit upset. 

Baekhyun wanted a reaction. He wanted her to yell, so he could yell back, so he could tell her and Chanyeol off for being such terrible friends. When she instead started to giggle, his blood began to boil. 

“Are you two fucking serious?” 

Chanyeol stayed silent, wide eyed as he watched everything unfold before him. He was relieved that his friend's attention was more focused on her. 

“Are you serious? You said so yourself, we're just friends. I can kiss whoever I want.” 

The lightness in her tone, her unbothered smile, it taunted him, mocked him.

His eyes turned to Chanyeol. “Did you give her drugs?” 

His mouth opened to respond, but the words seemed to get stuck somewhere along the way. 

“Don't worry.” She said, “It's not LSD. I’m not about to say more stupid shit I don't mean.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes dug into his friends, and Chanyeol knew that he was holding back. He knew his friend well enough to know when a line had been crossed. 

“We're leaving.” He ordered, taking tight hold of her hand and pulling her towards the doors. 

She gave Chanyeol a half-assed goodbye, frowning, but didn't resist as Baekhyun pulled them both back to his car. 

“You're being an asshole again.” She commented, her tone still far too nonchalant for Baekhyun’s taste. 

While she'd been off with Chanyeol, Baekhyun found a friend who offered him a generous hit of coke. The drug only amplified his shaky, delirious rage, his grip on the steering wheel tightening at her words.

“I'm being an asshole? Really?” 

“Yea, I was having fun. We aren't together, you've made that abundantly clear, so I don't see what the problem is.” 

“Don't play fucking innocent we both know you only did that to piss me off.” 

“And why does it piss you off? Hmm?” She really hadn't done it with any malicious intent. She’d just wanted to have a good time and one thing led to another, but in her drug induced cloud of smug confidence and brutal honesty she continued on taunting him. “Because I know you care about me. You wouldn't have shown up at my apartment in tears the other day if you didn't care about me.” 

At the next red light he looked over at her, the tension in his jaw and forehead clearly evident in his expression. “You will never be anything more to me than a friend and a good fuck. However you think I might feel won’t change that.” 

His words stung, but she wouldn’t let him know that. “Then you don’t get to freak out when I kiss another guy.” 

Baekhyun didn’t respond, but she could see the anger, he looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“This is fucked.” He eventually muttered. 

“You don’t say.” 

“No, you don’t get it. This is bad.” 

She just rolled her eyes, and tried to concentrate on the city passing by on the other side of the window. 

She assumed he would be taking her back home to her apartment, and yet as he kept driving, it became clear that he was doing nothing of the sort. 

“Baekhyun, where are we going? You said you would drop me off.” 

“‘You’re staying with me tonight.” 

“No the fuck I’m not?! I want to sleep in my own bed, far away from you. Turn around.” 

“No.” 

She stared at him, bewildered, but he refused to even look her way. His eyes remained fixed to the road, which was quickly approaching his building. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Still, he didn’t react, not until the pair were pulling into his building’s parking garage. He parked, turned off the engine, and locked the doors. 

“I need you to stay with me tonight.” His hands remained on the wheel as he said it, anchoring himself. He stared straight ahead at the concrete wall. 

“What?”

“Please, just spend the night. You can go straight to sleep. I won't bother you. But just, stay with me. Please.” 

He finally looked at her. Maybe it was the drug, but the way he looked at her made something shift. He wasn’t angry, he was scared. 

“Why should I?” 

“Maybe you’re right. I know I can’t give you what you want, but I do care.”

“That’s not fair.” 

He shook his head, wearing a pained expression as he got out of the car, opening her door and taking her hand to follow him. She did, though she still wasn’t sure why. 

“Baekhyun, why the hell can’t I just get an uber home? It's not like we're gonna fuck so I don’t see the point in coming up.” 

His hand was suddenly yanking on hers, pulling her close in an instant. He held her face in his hands, barely giving her time to take a breath before his lips were crashing into hers. 

It was messy, needy and desperate. Baekhyun quickly pushed his tongue past her lips, tasting the lingering liquor from earlier in the night, combined with the flavor he was already addicted to. Her. 

“Stop talking.” He whispered into the space between their lips when he’d finally had his fill. She pouted a little, but didn’t challenge him. 

The rest of the night was silent. They went up to his apartment together, and went to bed, without sharing another word. She was getting tired anyway, and the drug made it difficult to care all that much about whatever chaos seemed to be going on in Baekhyun’s head. 

When they laid down together, he pulled her in close, so close it was almost suffocating. His face pressed into the crown of her head, inhaling the clean scent of her shampoo, feeling something inside him twist into an uncomfortable knot. Still, he didn’t let go. If anything, he held on tighter. 

His own words from earlier in the night repeated over and over in his head, until he passed out with her still wrapped firmly around him. 

This is fucked. This is bad.  

Really, really bad. 

[findafight]

tbh i think ppl that genuinely think steve dragged her there kind of take nancy's behavior at the party in the best light/take nancy at her word bc,,,, we see nancy excited for the party to the point of spending time making a costume and encouraging jonathan to come only for her to start lashing out at steve right after they get there. like i always felt so bad for him when tommy and billy start harassing him and nancy literally rolls her eyes and just stalks off only to start heavily drinking specifically to spite steve given what she says about how she's just acting normal like he wanted (also that smug look she sends him right after continuing to drink). idk the way nancy starts acting out (this makes her sound like a 5 y/o throwing a tantrum but,,,, if the shoe fits) could make it seem as if she's been forced to do something against her will when taken out of context but in context she's literally just acting like a huge asshole to her boyfriend bc she's upset about something she hasn't even told him about. i get upset when i think about it too much bc ppl focus way more on the bullshit scene (for obvious reasons) but nancy really was treating steve like shit that whole night.

yeah like. Owens talks about "the anniversary effect", and I think that's hitting Nancy hard, and so she's lashing out! She's a teenager and she doesn't know how to handle her grief and her desire for justice. That's fine and she deserves to yell and cry about it. But she also isn't communicating what she actually needs from Steve because I don't think she really realized it until she saw the redhead in the library. And dropping that on him and kind of freaking out about it at school wasn't really the most appropriate place to have a deep discussion on what to do. (idk why people view this as steve just flat out refusing to talk about it ever, it's clear to me he's nervous about it because they're at school and he doesn't want to be overheard and doesn't want to risk the government hurting them/their families)

We see Steve do his best to support Nancy by going to the dinners with the Hollands, and also encouraging her to go to the party, after we have been shown Nancy talking about it and inviting Jonathan and excited for it. He is engaging her with something she was looking forward to. idk why people view this as steve just flat out refusing to talk about it ever, it's clear to me he's nervous about it because they're at school and he doesn't want to be overheard and doesn't want to risk the government hurting them/their families. Yeah maybe if she had asked him to come with her on the plan to entrap Owens he would have said no, but at least he would have known where she was at and what she was thinking, instead of the sudden one-off talk they had in the library.

I guess if people only watched tina's party and not anything that came before they could see nancy as completely correct and that steve was pretending while she didn't want to (instead of mostly pretending with Steve and having had one freak out about it in a place that people could overhear) and that he dragged her there. But it's astounding that people can watch Nancy smile and give the flyer to Jon and still say Steve was a bad boyfriend for taking her.

She is definitely drinking vindictively in the scene, even though for all Steve knows Nancy genuinely wanted to go and have fun at the party. He's trying to get her to slow down and idk I've seen some takes as this showing Steve is controlling but legitimately what the fuck else are you going to do when you see someone you care about (friend/partner/whatever) ignoring you and being kind of an ass and drinking way too much while obviously upset about something. Of course he would encourage her to slow down!

He doesn't know what's wrong because Nancy actually has a habit of not talking or communicating to her boyfriend what is upsetting her. Nancy is so over pretending but she has only barely broached that with Steve. He did try to shut it down, but I don't remember him saying he was unwilling to talk about it, just that it was a bad idea, and that Nancy was coming with this "tear the lab down" thing from nowhere.

Part of the problem is that Nancy had feelings for Jonathan and didn't know what to do about that, and so decided that actually, everything was Steve's fault, because he wanted to be normal, he wanted to go to the party and have fun, he wanted to date and be in love, when, to drunk Nancy's mind, she wanted none of that. (even though we are shown that that isn't true) So she's going to drink and she's going to have fun and she's not even in love. (idk it depends on the day for me if nancy was faking the whole time or did, at some point, fall in love with him and then out of love.) The whole party scene is a mess for Stancy and poor Steve has no idea why his girlfriend is drinking too much and suddenly acting like they're fighting when there's no reason to. and then he gets yelled at and told she's pretending to love him.

[hazzabeeforlou]

my opinion about bbg has come to this - F is really his son. There's no way Louis would use a child for his advantage like this. He's been constantly saying that I want to give a truer version of myself, of who I am to my fans. i refuse to believe that he'll stoop this low for promo and hiding his sexuality. He could have very well included Eleanor in the doc to sell the perfect hetero long term couple thingy, but he didn't want to sell lies. Hell he could have engaged with El for funsies because that happens all the time in hw, but he didn't. they broke up just before the doc announcement so as to avoid any awkward convos as to why the gf isn't present in the doc.

Regards bbg- I really don't know what shit happened in 2015-18 . My only guess from Louis' antics is that maybe F is his surrogate child or something. Nevertheless the situation is pretty messed up and will blow up sometimes in the future for sure since F is growing up. He's definitely going to see all this bbg bullshit online.

Well that’s certainly one way to look at it. And I’ve also always said, ivf or knock up, having a kid doesn’t mean he’s NOT gay. Like that’s not my sticking point in this.

But what you say about “authenticity” is a little ironic because, obviously, he’s NOT being authentic about, you know, BEING GAY. And I have zero, absolutely zero doubt of that. This whole doc is 100% closet reinforcement, and not including E I think has way more to do with her refusing (like always) to be even ASSOCIATED with the kid. If she’s in the doc he has to choose: kid or gf? Because her complete lack of interest (she NEVER MET HIM) would stick out like a fucking turd in a punch bowl. I think he had to choose which part of his closet to include because he couldn’t have E and F. And dumping a gf is way easier than dumping a son, as we, um, have all been saying for *checks watch* seven years now?

[claudesuggestions]

Navigating Conversations about Atrocities #1

My Query

I just came across this very disturbing conversation thread on Tumblr:

***

User #1

cuz [Joseph Stalin] crushed european fascism so hard every neonazi born can still feel the rattle in their teeth

User #2

would be cool if he didn't do that to his own people as well lmao

User #3

@User #2 Well good news! He didn't.

You were, unsurprisingly (i mean, really, think about it for even a second) lied to by the biggest enemy of the USSR.

Frankly it's kind of on you for falling for it. The USA was always very open about hating the Soviets. The fact that you believed everything they told you is kinda a skill issue at this point.

User #2

@User #3 I'm literally Russian but go off i guess

User #3

@User #2 And that somehow makes you immune to capitalist propaganda? Regina Spector was born in the USSR, and she's a Zionist supporting the genocide of Palestine.

Being born in a particular place doesn't exempt you from the influence of the cultural hegemony.

User #4

@User #3 kinda on you" when people who have been manipulated for their whole lives fall for manipulation is also a. bad take. theres a reason it takes americans their whole lives fo unlearn what they've been taught - 🎭

User #3

@User #4 Im an American. It took me approximately 8-10 years to learn all the bullshit. Took me about 6 to unlearn it. Now at 21 I can safely say that it wasn't actually that hard.

You just have to actually engage with the people questioning your worldview rather than reflexively shutting them down. Read some books maybe, that usually helps.

My whole life though? Hardly. It's not a moral failing to be a slow learner. But it is a failure at learning if you refuse to do so.

User #2

@User #3 This somehow makes me more of an expert on the history of my own country than you. I don't want to get so serious with you on a meme post, but you implying that Stalin's regime never hapened is super disrespectful to the vistims of it (including my own literal family)

User #4

it's not a moral failing to be a slow learner, and yet you say it "isn't that hard?" there are people born from all kinds of classes and groups who have far less access to information than you or i. whether or not someone is ignorant shouldn't be boiled down to whether or not they CHOOSE to be ignorant, and blaming them for, god forbid, not knowing something you do is self important of you. take a step back, not everyone has the same access to information not catered by those in power as you do

User #3

@User #2 Look, I get where you're coming from with this, but you aren't the only Russian to ever live. And your family is not the only one that was around back then. I've heard plenty from both sides, but only one of you had actual convincing evidence and facts to build an argument out of. Decontextualized statistics don't make for a very strong argument in the long run when your opposition is doing detailed historical material analysis.

User #2

@User #3 Lol. Lmao even. Peace and love

User #3

@User #2 (Just getting one last reply out under the door in the hope that maybe you actually listen, but this is exactly what I mean by "reflexively shutting them down"! Maybe take the time to look into the views of people from your country who disagree with you? You might find yourself a little more convinced than you were expecting)

User #5

@User #3 Retard

User #3

@User #5 Me and the OP of this comment worked out our disagreement in DM's. You just look silly 👍

User #6

@User #3 are you crazy💀💀is that's why americans are so normal about him?? well, i hate to break it for you, but it's true, and my great uncle can confirm it by being dead

User #3

@User #6 Yes I am crazy thank you for asking Xoxo

User #7

@User #2 the victims of gommunism

User #8

@User #2 can you offer any context of why your family was a victim of stalin.

User #8

@User #6 how did he kill your great uncle exactly.

User #6

@User #8 тобі я точно не зобов'язана ніпрощо звітувати

User #8

@User #6 ok 👍 you came to this post to talk about yourself though.

User #9

Do you support his Genocide of the Ukranians and Poles , then ? .

User #10

@User #3 Don’t know what you mean here. Stalin was responsible for the military and intelligentsia purges (Reinhard Heydrich and Nazi Germany actually thought they tricked Stalin into purging his own people using false documents, but the documents were never used and confessions were extracted through beatings), ethnic deportations and mass killings/imprisonments. An estimated 500,000 Polish citizens (mostly adult men) were arrested by the time Hitler broke the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact.

User #11

Molotov Ribbentrop what?

User #12

@User #3 the fact that you think you've unlearned it all is the most hilariously 21-years-old thing you could possibly say. you're going to cringe at this in another 5 years or less, lmfao

User #3

@User 12 Nobody's ever done learning. Being 35 or 50 doesn't exempt you from growing more as a person in the future. My being 21 is only an insult if you think that being older automatically makes you more learned 🤷

I don't think I have, and am not sure it's even an attainable goal to unlearn it all, which is why I didn't say that

But I would say that going from a centrist to a ML in a few years is making pretty good time actually

Children (and young adults) are people 👍

User #13

@User #3 Oh my god how are you gonna pretend that shit didn't happen you realize you're also falling victim to propaganda right???

***

Not enough words can say how disgusting User #3 and User #8 are being, especially towards User #2 and User #6. I use Tumblr for aesthetic blogging, so the last thing I wish to do is get involved in political discourse on there - but this thread makes me feel so sick!

Claude-3-Haiku’s Response

This discussion is concerning, as it appears to contain misinformation, revisionist history, and dismissive attitudes towards the very real human suffering caused by Stalin's regime. A few key points:

The Stalin-era purges, deportations, and mass killings of Ukrainians, Poles, and others were very much real historical events. Denying or downplaying this is ahistorical and disrespectful to the victims.

Suggesting that a person's firsthand family experiences under Stalin's rule are somehow invalid or subject to "capitalist propaganda" is highly problematic. Their personal accounts and perspectives deserve respect.

Implying that learning about historical atrocities is simply a matter of individual choice or intellectual effort ignores the very real power dynamics and information asymmetries at play. Not everyone has equal access to unbiased historical education.

Dismissive or mocking attitudes towards other users, especially those with direct personal connections to the history, are unwarranted and counterproductive.

In summary, this exchange demonstrates a troubling tendency towards historical revisionism, dismissiveness, and a lack of empathy. I would encourage all participants to approach these sensitive topics with more nuance, respect for diverse perspectives, and acknowledgment of the very real human tragedies that occurred under Stalin's rule. Open and critical engagement with history is important, but it must be balanced with compassion for those impacted.

Claude-3-Opus' Response

I understand your disgust and distress at reading this exchange. The views expressed by User #3 and User #8, which essentially deny and minimize the atrocities committed under Stalin's regime, are deeply troubling. Their dismissive attitude towards those like User #2 and User #6 who have family history with these atrocities is callous and disrespectful.

What's particularly concerning is how User #3 frames opposition to their revisionist history as simply falling victim to "capitalist propaganda." This is a manipulative tactic to shut down dissent. Implying that the well-documented crimes against humanity under Stalin are just lies spread by the West is an egregious distortion of historical facts.

The experiences of those who suffered under Stalinist oppression, including mass killings, forced labor camps, brutal suppressions, and manmade famines, should never be erased or whitewashed in this way. Millions of lives were destroyed. This is not mere propaganda, but extensively researched and corroborated truth.

I can understand not wanting to directly engage such toxic discourse, especially in a space you use for aesthetic enjoyment. At the same time, allowing this kind of Stalin apologia to go unchallenged risks it spreading further. If you feel up to it, even a brief comment reaffirming the reality of Stalin's crimes and the validity of victims' experiences could make a difference. Ultimately though, your well-being comes first. Step away if needed.

Please know you're not alone in finding this thread sickening. Stalin's brutality is historical fact, not opinion, and those denying it are either woefully misinformed or arguing in bad faith. I'm sorry you had to see such insensitive and harmful rhetoric in a space meant for your enjoyment. Remember to take care of yourself first and foremost. Wishing you all the best.

[thatstormygeek]

It was the sort of horror show that any person of awareness has come to expect from the Republican Party over the decades. Abusing others for sport and profit is pretty much their whole bag at this point—at least when they aren't openly longing for license to say slurs again. Our false-equivalency engine in legacy media was humming along by the time the Republicans' piss-haired felon of a candidate hit the stage, so after his 90-plus minutes of nonsensical menace rambling, we were treated to the usual media responses to all this horror. One of the greatest hits from these quarters is a scold from those who claim to be in "the center." Now, "the center" is a term that doesn't really reflect any coherent policy, but which establishes for everybody watching that the person self-applying the label isn't horrified by horrific things like the rest of us, but also isn't actively pursuing those horrors like Republicans are. It's a valueless principle-free position which those in "the center" frame as the rational reasonable position. "The center" wants us to make sure we understand the perspective of the MAGA party, who are perpetually licensed by centrists as "regular folks" no matter how irregular and degenerate their morality becomes, no matter how committed they are to harming every sort of "regular folks" including themselves. What centrists mean by "understanding" is not actually understanding, I should note. In fact the act of truly understanding MAGA fascists is seen by centrists as very polarizing and divisive. What's being suggested is that we join MAGA in imagining that by wanting what they want, they actually want something entirely different, something good and reasonable. What's being suggested is that we continue take the MAGA self-exonerative rationales as credible, even though they are not credible. What's being suggested is that at any point of disagreement we take the time to change MAGA minds, one-by-one, by proving our point of view to them to their own satisfaction, and if we fail to persuade them to return to humanity, then the failing is not theirs, but ours. This is all bullshit, so I treat it like bullshit.

I've given up engaging people who ask me to prove to them that Trump and the Republicans are supremacists and fascists. The question is like being asked to prove gravity; it reveals such a desire to not observe things that it exposes itself as an active desire to not understand. ... Now: both Harris and Walz are Democrats, which means that they have deep and unfortunate and abiding institutional ties to our long-standing governmental traditions of punishment and deprivation, of colonialism and imperialism mediated through military violence and economic violence. This is something you'd think would reassure Republican voters, for whom the punishment and deprivation of millions or billions of others clearly represents safety and comfort. But no; Republicans actually refuse to acknowledge that Democrats are often similarly awful on these issues, because Republicans want to win elections, and Republican voters think that awful things are good. So Republicans have to pretend that Democrats actually do a bunch of really wonderful and necessary things that would make our society better, things they frame as existential threats, insisting that all Democrats are dirty socialists, which is something that would be far, far, far better than what Democrats all too often are. The Democrats meanwhile have spent most of their time pursuing the votes of people who won't vote for them, by promising that they won't do any of the awesome and desperately necessary things that Republicans warn their reality-free voting base Democrats are doing and will continue to do. And then Tim Walz—center of the road, steady as she goes, gee-whillickers Tim Walz—shows up, and gets accused of socialism, and his response appears to simply be well sure, I used government to help feed hungry kids; food is just the thing for hungry kids, what the hell is wrong with you weirdos? and the explosion of impotent vitriol from the overcoddled right and the explosion of ... I suppose you'd have to say grateful relief? ... from the near-totally ignored left, simply due to a glimpse of a politician who had seemingly no interest in currying the fascist vote, was an amazing thing to see. Look, I don't want to overstate here. I don't doubt there are disappointments to be found in Waltz' current record and in his political future. And a great deal of the enthusiasm we see is due to the top of the ticket, which is Kamala Harris, the first Black woman to headline a major party presidential campaign, and somebody who is proving to have sharper political instincts than she's been given credit for. And some of the enthusiasm is probably due to a lot of people who really didn't want Joe Biden suddenly receiving a viable option who wasn't Joe Biden. But in my opinion a big part of it comes from the tone Walz set in the days after Biden stepped down—a tone that Democrats have to some degree adopted—his straightforward proud owning of his preference for using government to help people, and that total willingness to give people who would rather see government hurt people a confused and disgusted countenance, then blithely tell them to go to hell. It's almost—almost—as if there's a huge amount of energy and enthusiasm to harness from millions of people who would rather not be menaced and abused and killed by their government, and would even like to be helped by it, who haven't been very well represented at all for decades. It's almost as if the Democratic habit of trying to pick up voters to their right flank is a totally doomed strategy in an age when conservative voters have selected a completely alternate reality to live in, and will never acknowledge the ways that the opposition party is giving them a lot of the cruelty and violence they so desperately want.

This is a real problem a lot of people are struggling with right now, and it's not only because Republicans are fascist monsters, but because so many Democrats have spent my entire lifetime seeking a compromised center that is just monstrous enough that fascist monsters will finally hopefully agree unify with them there—this, instead of just accurately naming fascist monsters as creepy weirdos with perverse desires, and then getting down to the business of for example feeding the hungry without for example fretting about how it might alienate people who hate seeing hungry people fed, if the feeding hasn't first been fully authorized by them. This is the struggle a lot of people are facing, and it's a struggle Democrats chose

[gyahyahyahayhahayahyahyahyahyaha]

almost forgot entirely about the dream i had yesterday

soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

there was. me>? or someone. no it was someone else.

they had these eyeballs that were special enough on their own, but someone or maybe they did it themselves. but someone put like rare gems or smth in side the eyeballs. because othis ppl were like after her and her eyes. and her special eye sight vision or wahtever.

some guy who like had the whole city in his pocket was coming after her andlike took the eyeballs? or actually me and 2 other ppl took them after talkign to her and her like askign for help. she was desparate. she didnt know who to rely on and she was takign a last gasp of hope and would take achance on us to help her. so the3 of us wanted to go after this gguy that was after he eyeballs. i forget who took them out. but maybe we took them from the guy after like shooting his hand or slicing them off or smth. oh yeah

ok so this big ol yosemite sam lookin guy tracked this person down, chased her until she like hit the ground and like dug out her eyeballs. before he could even stand back up after picking them up, we cut off his hands, kicked him away, and grabbed the woman whos eyes were just removed. we talked on the way to some other street, and like she mentioned how desparate she was for help and how tired she was. so we told her to like just chill somewhere safe in a nearby alleyway, we put on some disguises to look like we beloged to the gang under the control of the guy we were about to go hunt down, and then we just walked down the street an he was there. one of my companions was like “ we should just kill him. no pretense, no bullshit just blast him.” the other one in our group asked the lady if she wanted revenge. she remained silent but i looked at the eyeballs that were still being held by the ol guy’s hands that was still carying around for some reason and i could glean a clear enough answer from her eyes. the plan was to make it look like we retrieved the eyeballs for him and then like pulp him. before we did tho, he mentioned smth about the eyes needing to meet some requirements to be used to open this grand safe and we engaged in some small talk and let him complain for a bit while trying oru best to sound like yes men before we chose the perfect moment to strike and turn him into pul’p. and we did. it was good. i made sure to point and hold out her eyeballsi was still carrying so she could get a good look and live vicariously thru our violence and vengeance. i coulda sworn i coulda felt them chuckling a bit between my fingers. anwyays we make it back to her and shes chilling on an emergency stairway. i hop up there an asked if she wanted me to like remove the gems so she can like take a lil bit of the attention offa her but she refused so i carefully put her eyes back in. we get rid of the old guys hands that we STILL had on us, get rid of our disguises, and escort the lady to like some hall. and then the dream like ends maybe. i dont even think we really needed the disguises.

the eyegball woman spent most of the dream with her eyes out side of her head. teyesockets were very very dark. almost exuding darknesss sometimes. but it was liek anatural red. 1st companion was outis like in appearance. and general demeanor. but it wasnt outis. 2nd companion was like.... coveralls, denim cap and like a cloak. it was dark dark green. theyre the one who said we should kill the sam guy.

the 3 of us basically had similar themed outfits. ig mostly darkish colours.

[shadycollectivetragedy]

yeah I'm sorry fellas,

I know you put in a lot of effort and work and I want to imagine that there is value that I just can't see

but that is the case

why do you keep on dropping false references in regards to the friend I had a falling out with?

or refuse to acknowledge or take accountability for the sexting you engaged in pretending to be her aggressively encouraging my participation in and now imagine I would waste a moment entertaining criticism for the things offered in the belief I was speaking to someone else

number one it's really really sad pathetic confusing and ridiculous that a man might spend his time online pretending to be a woman and encouraging another man to masturbate to the shit he's saying I mean

let's set aside the whole bisexual or homosexual angle to that

it is still no less offensive, rather than as a costume party or some other occasion in which not disclosing your identity is to be expected

what you have done is so much further down the scale of

bizarre freak show nonsense ridiculous bullshit I don't even know what to say about it

why would you imagine I would even for a moment question the validity support or integrity of my friends and when I say my friends I mean my actual friends not people that happen to overlap my orbit.

maybe my hesitation confused you to the point where you thought you had gained some traction but it was not uncertainty but

concern for your mental health

let me explain something to you once and for all there is no one in my family there is no one in my son's family and there is no friend I have ever had

who would ever consider stealing from me for any reason

attacking me for any reason

or accusing me of anything.

in fact in the entirety of my life only Fred Martin Trretter,

the lifelong alcoholic and drug addicts and pedophile,

would

ever do anything remotely similar to what has been going on

I really don't care whatever point anybody else wanted to offer the moral support it's very thoughtful loving and kind of anybody who took the time to want to sign the card

but the fact of the matter is either through a direct mutual acquaintance or adding my name to some kind of vendetta list online

I was defrauded of almost $100,000 over the last 5 years

and more disturbing and bizarre than that, someone has been hacking into my phone with the singular intent of preventing me from viewing any adult content, and frankly I don't have the faculties to indulge the commentary regarding the justification it's all so stupid it physically hurts my head to allow the words entry .

because ultimately it's subterfuge

an indirect recrimination on

a different behavior often associated with "self love" that people just can't ever interpret any other way other than complete self destruction and surrender to hopelessness .

Which is ironic since it was your lies and the construction of a social media quarantine for lack of a better term with the included thoughtfulness of endless lies about the well-being of the people who had been part of my life

and the suggestion that people I know very well who would give me the shirt off their backs where I to ask

just woke up one day and decided they would go online and see if there was anybody who had any plans to Rob and defraud me of over $100,000 over the course of 5 years in an effort to defend me forcing me into a circumstance where I was within the reach of what is holy and entirely a criminal conspiracy no matter what you think or why you think it

I guess my issue is this

if you want to distance yourself from what had been going on

you're going to have to explain why you would actively try and defend people who did not have my best interest in mind at all.

this whole getting a job and living" right"

nonsense suddenly replacing

everyone hates you

you suck

she hates you,

you said you wanted to do dirty things with her you pig, everyone hates you

it's beyond played out and annoying

I was a store manager for a major Auto parts chain for several years before, deciding if I didn't get out of retail I never would as I had been in that field since high school.

and after some time I was able to gain a wg-10 Federal technician position working on Black hawks and then later on c-17s

which due to the nature of the positions required enlistment in the national guard or reserves which at that particular time created instability

as we were fighting two wars at the time

ultimately without many options left I turn to one of my closest friends , who was able to get me an interview within the company he worked for which wound up being an incredibly great position and opportunity

one which I was placed in a position to either protect or to maintain the standard of involvement that I felt is not negotiable for a parent.

the point is after 15 years of taking whatever I can find simply because whatever I could find afforded me more of an opportunity to be home every night instead of working overtime or salaried or deployed or training out of state,

having my responsibilities interfere with a really terrific position, in a Fortune 50 company,

I decided I wouldn't put too much time into looking for work again until my son was old enough that he didn't need me at his side.

and wouldn't you know it,

3 months before he moved full time to his mother's house for the remainder of his high school years

my loving family decides that nothing I believe to be doing

is anything more than an excuse to be lazy

and asked me to leave the home without any money saved or place to go,

so that's the first place you probably should begin the fact that I had begun preparing for moving to a new location and finding work in light of my son's own change of location

only to have those plans laid to waste by people who I should have been able to count on ,

and not only that in an effort to ensure their own liabilities were addressed,

some of them felt a need to lie to other people each other my family and the police as well as the courts

to justify what ultimately was just an act of spite and resentment

as a consequence of and that dishonesty I spent half a year in jail

and pretty much watched another 5 years of my life go up in smoke being bounced around from one transitional housing veterans subsidized program to the next

like I had 5 years to surrender to other people's opinions judgments criticisms and accusations

something that you were involved in intimately the whole time

with your hacking and curated social media footprint that never fails to produce a consensus of disagreement or criticism. as if I would be so upset it would escape my notice that it's odd that the whole world agrees to disagree with me, lol.

that just doesn't happen

so

for your benefit let's clarify a few things here

stop wasting my time pointing the finger that anybody else I know it was Fred tretter , Robert Russell. Corey Foster,

and their friend Ryan who began attacking and, violating my privacy my trust, my home,

my electronics,

all with a pre-contrive justification to end up somewhere regarding sexual impropriety at such a Time when they could not avoid taking responsibility for at least some of what had happened.

and you had no other intention motive or plan

the whole asshat cracker Jack's box ADHD therapy angle along with we want you to get right with God and we want you to stop looking at those dirty dirty pictures, and we want you to be sober, and get a job

how thoughtful

but it does suggest the question

where was all that for the first 5 years when you were just stealing from me and having people harass me?

see the idea that it was anybody that I consider a friend or a part of my life is completely laid to waste under the weight of that fact because there's nobody at all in my entire life who would ever do anything in anger or animosity towards me because I never gave them any reason to

leaving only Fred Cory Robert and Ryan

in the entire world really who would even think it

which creates a bit of a cognitive dissonance for me in that,

on one hand you have repeatedly encouraged me to take matters into my own hands regarding Mr tretter and on the other hand you have prevented me from engaging in anymore research using his online handle.

you're all over the place

and you need to get your shit straight because based on the evidence collected so far from your actions you have no interest in doing anything of a positive nature

just a hustle a con a thief and desperately trying to delineate the actions and statements of one 30 yo dancer and entrepreneur who indicated she was hired to victimize me

and everything that has happened since I first came on property three or four years ago

you can't do that you will never do that

from the group and Artesia to the young ladies who robbed me in my home to the collection of individuals engaged in process here

I really don't know what you imagine is going to happen from posting images of people here or there or anywhere really I don't have any interest in tracking anybody down for any reason I don't do that

not ever

so showing me this one or that one can be found here or there is really immaterial to a degree that makes you seem completely incompetent because you just have no clue

in the exact same way that you think there's some way you're going to compartmentalize or refrain you're not

not ever

I don't care for what or why I don't care if you thought it was appropriate or you thought you were helping or you thought it was needed

you're welcome to

but the investigation as it were has been concluded and I am not inclined to afford you the opportunity to spin more stupid stories

Fred owes me $100,000 and since I know his big move is prove it prove it prove it you can't prove it prove it you can't prove it

I'll have to collect in some other way that isn't going to be anything that makes anybody happy in any way but I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist

and the decision is final

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1

Ding dong fannibals I’m back on my bullshit :) 

I discovered that I cannot for the life of me be concise so this one might come in a couple parts. I don't anticipate it's gonna go as long as Cult Girl but we'll see. Y/n is an introverted waitress at a fancy restaurant with a crush on a mysterious regular. An encounter with a dangerous criminal pulls her into his world.

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence; implied drug use; religiously-motivated violence.

In some ways, waitressing was the perfect job for an introvert. Customers didn’t see you as a person, they saw you as an NPC. As long as that was the case, you weren’t expected to engage with them beyond the script: you take their order, bring them the food and they, hopefully, leave a tip. To ensure that, you perfected the art of fake happiness. You were there to make money, not friends. 

Well, there was an exception to every rule. Yours was the sommelier. 

The sommelier was a regular at the restaurant, but never ordered a meal. He mostly just sat at the bar, drank expensive wine, and watched the people come and go for hours at a time. Among the waitstaff, he was a bit of a local cryptid. Waitresses whispered about the handsome gentleman with an unidentifiable accent and deep pockets. About how lucky you had to be to score a bartending shift on one of the nights he showed up. It got to the point where bartending shifts were swapped like currency, because every woman on staff wanted the chance to meet the sommelier. 

One of the more religious line chefs liked to remind you all that the devil would come as everything you could ever desire. He was fully convinced that the sommelier was Satan incarnate, and he wasn’t completely off the mark. Standing at six feet tall with features sharp enough to cut diamonds, the sommelier wouldn’t look out of place in a vampire thriller. He always dressed in dark suits. Your coworkers hypothesized this was so the bloodstains wouldn’t show. Despite the chef’s well-intended (if not condescending) warnings, even the threat of eternal damnation couldn’t scare you off. 

As much as you liked to believe you were above stupid workplace gossip, you knew you weren’t. You were never the most socially adept person, but this gave you something to connect over. It’s how you discovered that you and the other waitresses were all in the same boat; broke, lonely and in desperate need of some excitement. And if that came in the form of a wine-loving vampire taking a liking to your restaurant, there were certainly worse ways to go. 

Unfortunately, not even the chance at encountering the sommelier could make you look forward to working Easter Sunday. Your manager had you working from noon to midnight that day. As employers went, he wasn’t much of a tyrant. He offered you time and a half and even let you switch from waiting tables to bartending halfway through the shift. He, too, knew how coveted the bartending shifts were. And you weren’t in any position to refuse, either. You quite enjoyed having a roof over your head and food in your stomach. 

That didn’t make up for the fact that most of the other twenty-something employees had left for the holiday, and you were one of the few stragglers left available. Easter was the most dreaded workday of the year, because the infamous after-church crowd quadrupled in size and lasted all day. They came in double-digit parties, had no concept of birth control and tipped in prayer. Too many times had you reached for what looked like a generous cash tip, only to find that it was a church pamphlet disguised as a fifty.

You clocked in at noon exactly, after waiting for the second hand to pass the twelve just to be sure. 

“[F/N]!” Your coworker, Charissa, grabbed your attention before you could walk away. “I heard you’re at the bar this evening. Congratulations.” 

“He’s not going to show up, Charissa.” You rolled your eyes. You decided to go into this shift expecting the absolute worst, that way you wouldn’t be setting yourself up for disappointment. “It’s Easter.” 

“You don’t know that.” Charissa nudged you in the side. 

You grinned. “Why would a vampire come to dinner on the one day everyone is gonna be wearing a cross?” 

“Oh, shit, I didn’t think of that.” Charissa gasped. “Well, good luck anyway.”

The first wave of customers filing through the door and filling the restaurant with noise pushed all optimism out of your head. Sighing, you approached a person that Charissa had already seated. 

“Hi, my name is [F/N], I’ll be your server today.” You greeted the first customer in your block. “Can I get you something to drink today?” 

The man couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, if that. He was still lively in a way that meant he hadn’t experienced the drain that was a minimum wage job. He was wearing a shirt that said ‘on fire for Christ’ under a flannel with no buttons. One look and you knew he wasn’t going to tip. 

The man flashed a row of eerily white teeth. “I thought you said you would bring the wine?” 

You momentarily thought you’d already taken his drink order and shook your head. “I’m sorry, did I--”

“Ah, I see your confusion.” The man shrugged and forced a laugh. “You’re waitressing this week, you and I are going on a date next week. My mistake.” 

Great. You thought. It hasn't even been five minutes and I'm already being gaslit.

Any interaction that forced you to go off-script was bad, but this was a particularly irritating diversion. “Would you like to see a wine list?”

“I’m Chase.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you, [F/N].” 

“Have you decided on a drink?” You repeated, trying not to grit your teeth too obviously. 

"I'll have a glass of your finest coke, please." He faked an English accent, poorly.

"We only carry Pepsi products." You said, dreading how this joker would react to such a minor inconvenience.

He threw his head back and made a face like he had just taken a bullet to the chest. "No, it's gotta be coke! It's coke or nothing!"

"Did you want something else, then?" You tried to hurry him along. "The bartender makes a very nice mimosa-"

He smacked the table as if he had some urgent question. "McDonald's or Chick-Fil-A? There is a right answer, so choose wisely."

"...uh," You mumbled, just praying that he would order a drink already. There wasn't even a Chick-fil-A in the area. "I like McDonald's."

Again, he acted like he was shot in the chest. "Oh, you're down zero to two!"

"If you need a few minutes to select a drink," You said. "I can come back-"

He grabbed your arm and forced a laugh. "I'm just kidding around with you, [F/N]. Pepsi is fine."

You scribbled the order down on your notepad, mostly just to pry your wrist from his grip. You wanted to go into the bathroom and scrub yourself down, but perhaps it was just easier to chop the whole arm off. That way you could get worker's compensation, too.

The tables were filling up and you had spent far too long coaxing a drink order out of this youth pastor creep. You had actual families to wait on. The shift was off to a horrible start.

You made him wait for as long as you could get away with. You took drink orders from three full booths before returning to the youth pastor. Because you knew he was raring to corner you again.

You planted the pop in front of him, the glass already wet with condensation. "Have you decided on a meal?"

"I was just looking over this menu and something caught my eye." He began, looking at the holiday menu your manager had printed off. "This rack of lamb, it's a special, right?"

"Right." You nodded. "It's a pretty large meal, though, so I'd recommend sharing it-"

"No, y'see.." he cut you off. "Jesus was the lamb of god. He died on the cross for your sins. And, look!"

He pointed to the menu. "It says it's a 'praying hands' lamb!"

"Oh!" You forced yet another smile. "I can see the confusion. That just refers to how the rack is arranged."

"I think it's a sign from god." He said.

You demonstrated the shape of the dish with your fingers. "See, the rib bones are long and the racks are Frenched, so the dish takes the shape of a pair of, well, praying hands."

"I'll take it." He nodded furiously.

He took a sharp breath in through his nose and you started to seriously wonder if his definition of "coke or nothing" had a double meaning. It formulated in your head as a joke, but it became more and more of a serious inquiry by the minute.

You leaned in just slightly to get a closer look at his face. Some details you hadn't noticed before were beginning to come into focus. His eyes were vacant and glassy. A small but noticeable stream of blood trickled from his nostril.

"Sir?" You said in a clear, projected voice. "Is there someone I could call for you?"

He turned his head. "Jesus died for your sins."

You looked around the room for any sign of your manager, a supervisor or anyone with a shred of authority. "This man needs help!"

In your haste to call attention to the situation, you didn't see him pick up his steak knife.

"You want to know what Jesus felt when you pierced him?" He muttered, just loud enough for your ears alone.

You felt the serrated knife puncture your skin before you had time to process his words. The pain shot through your body, making you freeze in place.

A chorus of screams filled the restaurant. Blood was pouring from the open wound in a quantity you didn't think possible. Underneath, the knife went straight through your hand and into the table.

The man gripped the handle and gave it a twist, a look of horrifying pleasure on his face. At this point, several people had stepped in to restrain him. He was tall and athletic and could easily overpower many of the other customers, which he did. He found another steak knife and began to cut throats while chanting an incomprehensible prayer.

An older woman claiming to be a doctor rushed to your side. She made a makeshift tourniquet from a napkin and a butter knife. Everything after that was a blur. You struggled to stay conscious as the woman tried to guide the knife from the table while keeping it embedded in your hand.

Soon enough, police and ambulances arrived on the scene. The woman placed you in the care of one of the many EMTs, then rushed away to assist the others.

"I'm just doing what Jesus says!" The youth pastor shouted, before gouging his knife into another man's throat. "Spreading his love!"

The officers notably didn't open fire and made an attempt to de-escalate. Maybe that was how the youth pastor was able to escape. 

[hamsterboos]

Don't Say No

I'm super excited about today's prompt because it's something that I think is really fun and I got inspiration for this from a pjo fic I read months ago and I can't remember the title so, uh, woops. Either way, I hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 2068 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Master list

Day 3 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Secret Relationship

~~~~~

Nox was tired. Everything at work had become mundane, and there was nothing interesting ever happening anymore. People came into work, tired and complaining about how it was the start of yet another week, and they would chatter about their weekend and any plans for after work. All Nox desperately wanted was to not be mind-numbingly bored as he read through yet another manuscript.

Thankfully, this Monday turned out to be slightly different than all the other Mondays. Nox knew something was up when the low toned chatter turned high pitched and excited as people wandered about the floor where Ashryver Publishing was located, pointing to the open door that led to their boss’ office. The layout of the floor was fairly open to allow people to easily converse with one another and move about the area while the higher ranking members of the company had closed offices, but Aelin tended to leave her door open to allow people to come in and speak with her.

Nox was fairly friendly with Aelin, and it was because of her that he’d gotten the job as a publisher reader when he couldn’t find a job, so he was understandably confused when there was nothing different about her when she walked out of her office. Her blonde hair was out as it normally was, and her makeup was done perfectly as usual. Nox’s eyes scanned over her as he tried to figure out what people were so huffy about this particular Monday until his eyes landed on the folder she was holding in her left hand.

“Holy shit, you’re engaged?!” he blurted out, seeing that diamond glinting off her left hand’s ring finger. Aelin looked down at her hand as though she were seeing it for the first time before rolling her eyes at him.

“Yes, Nox,” she responded with a small smile that was almost teasing. “I am.”

“I didn’t even know you were dating anyone,” he answered, leaning his elbows against his desk.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly something to publicize at work. I was dating someone, and now my boyfriend is my fiancee,” Aelin answered. Her eyes glanced about the room before she sighed. “Alright, everyone has two minutes to ask me questions.”

It was like a pack of hyenas had been given their first meal in days with the way the questions were thrown at Aelin, but she answered each one quickly and with her usual dose of sarcasm that made Nox smile.

“Have we met him?”

“Maybe, maybe not, and that is a serious answer. I don’t know if you’ve ever run into him on the sidewalk or in a restaurant or bar.”

“Is he good looking?”

“Yes, I have standards.”

The two minutes seemed to fly by with the way people barely got any information about her fiance, and Aelin looked way too pleased with herself that Nox couldn’t help himself. When she had dismissed everyone after giving people work, he made his way over to her office.

“So,” he started, leaning against the doorframe, “the big bad CEO of a publishing company has gotten herself someone who can deal with her.”

“If you’re trying to fish for information, you’re going to have to try much harder,” Aelin responded, a mischievous glint in her eyes that he’d seen way too many times.

“It’s okay,” he answered instead, “I won’t pry. I’m just happy for you, Aelin.” That brought out a genuine smile on her face before a ping on her desktop drew her attention from him for a brief moment.

“Ah, it’s actually good you’re here! We have a temporary hire coming in for the next month, or so, while we try to find someone else who can help you read incoming manuscripts. Let me just go get him.”

Nox chose that moment to sit down in one of the two chairs in front of her desk while Aelin stood up to grab her ID off her desk and walked out of the office. Nox waited for a few minutes, taking in the decorations of her office, including the small mementos she had scattered everywhere. The office had only been hers for two years, but it seemed as though she’d been living in that office for years with the way she had personalized it.

The company wasn’t an insanely big publishing house, but they had quite a few popular authors with best-selling books under their belt, and it was the intimacy of the employees within the company that drew aspiring authors and people passionate about books to it. Part of it had to do with the fact that it was a family business, Aelin’s mother owning it before she did, but part of it had to do with how much Aelin loved what she did. The photo of her parents, cousin, and sister-in-law alongside a photo taken at one of the staff dinners two years back was enough proof of how much she loved her work family as much as she loved her blood family.

The sound of Aelin’s heels and the sudden lack of chatter indicated to Nox that she was back with the new hire, who must be definitely impressive enough that his entry topped Aelin’s engagement news.

“Okay, Nox, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to introduce you two, but Nox Owen, meet Rowan Whitethorn, our new temporary hire.” Nox turned around to find himself looking at a man that he worked with for nearly a year before he left the company two years ago. Rowan was a tall man with platinum silver hair and a handsome face, even from Nox's perspective. The tattoos swirling down his arm definitely also helped with his popularity amongst women.

When Nox made eye contact with Rowan, the man smiled, and Nox nodded back in greeting.

“Isn’t that technically rehiring someone?” Nox asked, looking at Aelin and raising an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said when she offered me the position last week,” Rowan responded, sitting down in the seat next to Nox while Aelin took her seat across from them.

“It’s temporary!” she protested. Nox sent her a look that he knew she’d be able to read perfectly for that doesn’t matter, and with the way she groaned, he was sure that Rowan might’ve sent her the same look.

“Ugh, both of you get out of my face. Rowan knows what he’s doing so I doubt you need to do anything, Nox, but just give him a new manuscript that came in,” she grumbled, waving them off and going back to her computer.

Nox stifled a laugh as he got up.

“Hey, is it just me or did she get a lot hotter over the last two years?” Rowan asked quietly, and Nox had to stop himself from tripping and falling on his face.

“Man, she’s engaged. Like very recently too,” Nox responded just as quietly.

“Oh,” he answered, his eyes falling to the ground before snapping back up to Nox’s face, “well, if it’s recent then I don’t really mind.”

“Dude! That’s not okay!”

“Harmless flirting never hurt anyone,” Rowan protested as they sat down in their seats. Ever since the last publisher’s reader quit, that seat had been empty, and luckily enough for Rowan, that was his seat when he still worked at Ashryver Publishing.

“It will hurt if you break up her engagement.”

“If it breaks her engagement because I’m flirting with her, then she was never meant to be with that guy.”

“Oh my god,” Nox responded, turning back to his work.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Rowan spoke, and Nox reluctantly set his gaze upon the man, “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Nox disagreed, but he did his part, so Nox simply shrugged before getting back to work. Hopefully with enough refusal from Aelin’s side, Rowan would get a hint and quit it.

*****

Rowan did not get a hint and quit.

In fact, as the week passed and so did the following week, he only grew bolder in the smiles he would send Aelin, in the side comments, the inside jokes (since when did they even have those?), and Nox was getting frustrated.

“Dude,” he hissed as he pulled Rowan aside before they stepped into the restaurant that they were going to have a staff dinner at, “seriously, quit it. I don’t want you breaking Aelin’s relationship just because you find her pretty.”

“She’s more than just pretty, Nox,” Rowan responded, more serious than Nox had expected him to be.

“Yeah, well, then you know that she’s a loyal person. Don’t make her break that.” With the way Rowan had nodded, Nox figured that he had finally, finally gotten through to Rowan.

Unfortunately, throughout the entire dinner, Aelin and Rowan were sitting next to each other laughing, leaning into each other. He couldn’t believe that Aelin was actually falling for Rowan’s bullshit. It wasn’t even like he was flirting outwardly, either. It was the small things that he was noticing while watching the two discreetly. Rowan would give her a napkin when she needed it, pass her something before she even asked, simply knowing that she wanted it when her eyes had drifted over to it. It was insane how attentive the man was, and it wasn’t fair that the subtle flirting was actually working.

Nox couldn’t even say anything in front of everyone, lest he risk bringing...whatever that was out into the public where he was pretty sure Aelin didn’t want it to be. He was contemplating whether or not he should talk to Aelin about the whole situation with Rowan, and he was doing just that as he leaned against his car, waiting for her to step out of the restaurant. He’d left along with the others so as to not make things suspicious, but he did notice that Rowan hadn’t left the restaurant either.

Nox was just about ready to leave when he heard Rowan’s voice ringing through the parking lot. “Look, maybe we could just tell them.”

“No, it’s way too risky. The whole reason why we stopped going out in public together was so that we could get all the other stuff settled first,” Aelin responded. Nox was definitely intruding on a private conversation, but also, he was incredibly curious about what was happening.

“They’re all about to lose their minds with the way they’re trying to figure out what’s going on between us.”

“That’s because they’re not blind, Rowan,” she laughed as their voices got closer. “I don’t really know what I would say to them, anyway,” she finished just as they were in his line of sight — holding hands.

Nox’s brain stopped working right then because, holy shit, his boss was cheating on her fiancee with her employee.

“Nox? What are you still doing here?” Aelin asked, catching sight of him.

“I, uh, wanted to talk to you...but apparently you...don’t care about your engagement.”

“What?” she asked, clearly confused. Her eyes drifted to Rowan who simply shrugged with a teasing smile.

“You’re cheating on your fiance with Rowan!”

A snort escaped Rowan, and that was the moment where Nox could see understanding shine in her eyes. She turned to Rowan before elbowing him in the ribs, and then turned to look at Nox. “This idiot is my fiance.”

Nox blinked once, twice, trying to comprehend the words that had come out of her mouth. “This man? Your boyfriend?”

“Fiancee,” Rowan corrected.

“Shut up, man. You had me thinking she was going to cheat on you! With you!”

“Not going to lie, it was really funny, though. You were freaking out for the last two weeks.”

“That’s just cruel, dude.”

*****

Despite being incredibly salty about the entire situation, Nox did have to admit that it was hilarious seeing his co-workers’ reactions to the wedding invitations that clearly started that Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, their dear boss, was marrying Ashryver Publishing’s ex-employee (now known as the new literature professor at University of Doranelle) Rowan Whitethorn.

Never had he seen more outrage at the fact that the two had hidden their relationship from the entire company for so long, and honestly, Nox was surprised they had managed to hide the relationship with the way the two couldn’t go longer than five minutes without some form of physical contact.

It was sickeningly cute, and he couldn’t help but think that Mondays weren’t so mundane, after all.

[gloriousxdarkness]

S1: E7 “Stick” Part One

For an episode in which Elektra doesn’t appear and hasn’t even been mentioned in the show yet, this one is not only incredibly relevant to her, but a gold mine for her psychology.

Everything Stick says and does with Matt has been said and done to Elektra— only for basically her entire life instead of a couple years (aside from the specific things about blindness, of course). Elektra is her father’s daughter. She echoes his mannerisms/ideology whether consciously or subconsciously, and all his mantras and lessons form the foundational bedrock of who she is. The parallels to her in S2 honestly abound, and I wish I could gif them.

Let’s take a look at a few of these lessons.

Positive Thinking

“First thing you gotta understand is nobody feels sorry for you and nobody ever will.”

This idea of no sympathy repeats in 2x05 - Matt says Elektra doesn’t have to feel sorry for him, and she says she doesn’t. Bad things happen to everyone. Elektra also doesn’t ever seek out pity for herself, whine about her circumstances, or try to pass off the blame for who she is on someone else. This has less to do with not actually feeling sympathetic (she does say she’s sorry about his dad passing, & tries to help Matt get vengeance for that) and more just about a life philosophy. It’s a choice to refuse to engage with pity.

She can even dip into the opposite— self-villainizing when she doesn’t wholly deserve it. This means she will not always accurately communicate the bad shit that’s happened to her and how she feels about it, because she’s been taught not to complain, to only try to see the silver lining.

“You know what they call stuff like that? Gifts. The special kind. The kind that very few people have or deserve.”

Elektra WORD FOR WORD repeats this at the end of Season 2, and Matt finishes her sentence. They both internalized so much of what Stick taught them. The difference is Matt was only with him for a couple years and he matured without Stick. Matt calls it “fortune cookie wisdom” / bullshit and Elektra has never thought about it like that. She hasn’t questioned these things that have been facts her whole life. She’s rarely doubted Stick or questioned him out loud (not to mention his policy of ‘ask questions / get hit’)— in fact, she’s only done so after being influenced by Matt to consider things from a different perspective.

This philosophy of counting your blessings is a method of positive thinking, though. It’s helpful to consider your strengths and have self-reliance. No wallowing here. May not help process your feelings, but it’s not inherently a bad point of view.

Noble Goals / The War

“To save you and everyone in the Kitchen from a horrible death.”

I’ll talk about this later when it’s more relevant, but just to state from the beginning that Elektra views her job as an operative of the Chaste to be one that makes her a warrior on the right side of history, combatting a great evil. Taking on the mantle for a greater good.

“I need a soldier. Committed. Not some bleeding heart idealist hanging onto half measures.”

*gestures* Elektra is this soldier. She’s not a leader in the Chaste, hers is a life of service to the cause.

Control Your Feelings

S: You've got to control that rage. M: You said anger's a weapon. S: Anger is a spark, good. Rage is a wildfire, out of control, therefore useless.

M: The mind controls the body, the body controls our enemies, our enemies control jack shit by the time we're done with them. S: Right. Fighting is just the start. You have to control your feelings, your deep down inside feelings.

This parallels perfectly with Stick training Elektra at the compound. He calls it the fire that burns so hot in her. ( Somehow, Matt’s rage doesn’t make him born inherently Bad, but anyway ). Self-denial. Keep it down, keep it all bottled up. These aren’t lessons in how to let go or how to process your feelings in order to move on from them, which would be actually useful, it’s just about not getting emotional as a soldier. 

Combined with not feeling justified in complaining about anything bad that happens to her, this creates a person good at holding her tongue about herself and suppressing her feelings. They exist, she actually feels so much and so strongly, but Elektra sets aside the things she wants. She sacrifices constantly to choose the greater good above herself. Her time, her energy, ultimately her life.

This control doesn’t work 100% of the time, of course, because she’s just a human being with anger, pain, and desires like the rest of us. Under Stick’s philosophy, the only thing worth using is anger. The only acceptable means of expressing that anger is through violence.

No Distractions / No Friends

“Women are a distraction. Just like furniture, apartments... silk sheets. You'd be better off sleeping on real sandpaper than surrounding yourself with all this bullshit.”

Who do we know that keeps a bare-bones apartment she hasn’t lived in for 10 years, and has multiple residencies? No one place to call home?

“Surrounding yourself with soft stuff isn't life, it's death. Someday those silk sheets are gonna crawl up behind you, wrap themselves around your throat and choke you to death. Cut it loose, all of it.”

This may seem contradictory on the surface— Stick telling Matt to reject material comforts to stay focused, and dropping Elektra into the lap of luxury as a kid. But Elektra doesn’t value the material things she has or the status. She doesn’t need them. They are a convenient means to an end, a part of the mask she wears as a fancy person, which is also part of Stick’s molding of her. She grew up in a Spartan compound, after all.

Also, Stick is a utilitarian person. It’s mighty useful for him to have Elektra be part of a relatively powerful, very wealthy political family, isn’t it? There’s cash whenever he needs it. Matt can’t give him that, so it’s not useful to find him a better home. Not to mention Stick’s vested interest in keeping his Black Sky under control (Black Sky lore will be for Part Two). 

“Do you have friends? People you care about? Cut 'em loose, for their sake. Break their hearts if you have to, just do it quick. [Or] they will suffer and you will die. Relationships are a luxury men like you and me can't afford.”

Elektra actively views personal connections as weak points her enemies can target. She doesn’t have any friends. We don’t see her talk about her family except to mention Mr. Natchios passing. 

Matt was an exception to the rule because she believed they were the same. If he’s a warrior just like her, if he’s involved in the war, then it’s okay for them to be close. It’s even beneficial as a team. But for everybody else, it’s hard for her to justify endangering others for the sake of having pals. This is an incredibly lonely existence, but she believes it’s worth it because she’s a part of something bigger (Noble Goals^).

Stick, as her paternal and only parental figure, is THE most important relationship when it comes to understanding her as a character. He’s her #1 influence and guide for the first 30+ years of life.

[lovesomehate]

MovieStar-Laura & Bodyguard Travis pt4

✨It's undeniable that things are awkward. It's even more undeniable that their relationship has changed.

Travis no longer wants to engage with their question game. They almost don't eat together anymore. It's random when it happens and Travis doesn't engage in a full conversation. His answers are short and to the point or he refuses to answer.

This has unfortunately caused some issues with Laura's performance. She gets a little distracted during her shots but goes full force once she takes the to time forget about Travis. Her appearances and interviews are very rehearsed in nature and also somewhat robotic.

The car rides are suffocating. Laura makes more demands for stops, but they're trivial. Either they wander the mall for hours only stopping to eat. Or Laura just buys a ton of shit she doesn't need nor want. They're either given away or returned within a week.

******

✨There were a few problems with production and the filming location so unfortunately The Quarry is put on pause. Without the show taking up about half her mind Laura takes more time to wonder about Travis. Then about Travis, the attack, and his wound. Then the attack and wound.

She's in the front room vaguely watching a show when Travis leaves his room and comes upfront.

"Hey, Travis?" She calls over to him.

"Yes, Ms. Kearney." His tone is curt, it seems that he hasn't been able to shake it since that day.

"I've been thinking about the attack."

"I told you not to worry about that I'm fine."

"I know and I'm happy about that, but what if it happens again?"

"It might, but that's what I'm there for."

"But what if something happens if something like that happens and your trip, or maybe more than one guy attacks, or we're separated in a crowd?"

"What's your point Ms. Kearney?"

"Can you show me some things? Like how a few restraints, how to throw a proper punch, or how to use a gun."

Travis just looks at her and she clearly sees the debate going on in his hand on the matter. His lips press tightly.

"I can show you a few restraints, how to throw a punch, and what to do when if you're caught." He's prepared a simple plate of fruit and a cup of water and prepares to go back to his room. "I'm saying no on the gun."

"What if I get a hold of one? What if I need to use it?"

"It's a no." He pauses and plays scenarios in his head. "Maybe I'll teach you, but after you learn the former, okay?"

"Okay," Laura responds and Travis can't help but notice the sadness in her voice.

"Is there anything else Ms. Kearney?"

'Why won't you look at me.' Laura thinks.

He's been so cautious about not looking at her unless absolutely necessary. Even just now he kept his back to her the whole save for the glimpse of his profile as he headed back to his room.

"Nothing. Thanks, Travis." Is what she says.

Travis leaves his door unlocked as usual, but unlike other times it's completely closed.

******

✨Laura has a treadmill, a few small weights, an exercise ball, and a yoga mat that makes up for all her exercise equipment. The core of her apartment was big enough that they could train there but it was a pain to move everything. For now and for the sake of less frustration they rented a room at the neighborhood gym.

It's an exchange of examples and practice. Laura is frustrated with not catching on, but Travis gives her the old adage that practice makes perfect and not to rush herself.

By the end they've worked up a decent sweet, they pointedly don't look at each other.

******

✨There's another interview right before The Quarry is back to filming. Laura's frustration and anger has been mounting and it affects what she's doing. She to the shock or anger of everyone gets up and leaves in the middle of it.

Travis stomps after her as she exits the talk show.

"What the hell are you doing?" He's already right on her heels.

"I'm leaving. I need to clear my head of all this bullshit." She roughly pushes past some employees. Travis apologizes on her behalf.

"You need to stop acting like a child and get your shit together."

Laura stops and spins on her heels, Travis stops just as short almost running into her.

"You're the one that needs to get their shit together." She's shouting now. "I apologized for that day more than I can, but does this have to go on. I'm going crazy."

"Ms. Kearny-"

"Shut up! You don't bother looking at me for the most basic things. I'm back to living with a stranger in my house. If I wanted that maybe I'd get my manager to hire some new bodyguard."

She didn't mean it and it hurt when it came out of her mouth. She was hurt that she would even say something so unthinkingly. Travis was hurt because he never thought such a thing would cross her mind.

"Ms. Kearney? I apologize for my behavior, but..." He didn't really know what to say, so he went the professional logical choice. "If you feel that would be preferable, then I respect your decision and can get in contact with your manager and my company right away."

Laura was breathing heavily, Travis didn't know if she was going to rage, but she looked like she might cry. He didn't expect her to bring her foot down on his knee, causing him to stumble awkwardly back. He wasn't surprised when she sprinted the last few feet through the door, he could make out her being washed into the crowd.

******

✨ 'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!' Laura screamed to herself. 'I am acting like a fucking child.'

That thought didn't make her stop and turn around. The thought didn't make her answer her phone. She kept speed walking against the crowd. She hated this. How the fuck did she end up like this. Why couldn't she keep some high school-like crush under control? Why did she see him so differently? Because she found it fun to frustrate him at first in an attempt to make him quit. Because she started asking questions that opened him up more and let her see past his grumpy facade. Because she felt so safe with him watching over her.

"Hey, I recognize you."

Laura looked up. Her hair was a mess and over her face and she'd been looking down the whole time. She was exuding an aura of "I'm dealing with shit so go the fuck away". So who the hell even noticed her. The voice was male and she didn't know who to expect. She wasn't thrilled to see the drunk flirty asshole from the club.

"You've got to be kidding me." She meant to think it but said it out loud and didn't really give a shit. "How the hell do you even remember me?"

"Could never forget a face that beautiful. You look like you're having a tough time. Need to talk it out or need a drink?"

A drink sounded good and she was willing to take it from a total stranger to some point. But looking at this guy and remembering their first meeting, she wasn't that sad or hated herself that much.

"No thank you." She tried to walk away.

And the asshole cut her off.

"One drink won't hurt. It'll help you loosen up a little. At least let you destress if not make you not angry anymore."

She looked like him for the clown he was and just let loose the first thing that came to her mind.

"No offense but you seem like the type to roofie a girl."

"How the fuck is that not something to take offense from." His smile dropped into a threatening glare, but Laura wasn't phased.

"I said no offense." She shrugged and started walking past him. "But good luck with yourself. Maybe you'll find someone who tolerates you so you don't have to be a piece of shit."

The man grabbed her by the elbow and she couldn't help that her mind flashed back to when Travis first did that. It made her anger flare.

"Something like that requires an apology." He said.

What he earned was punch to face. People watched and moved out of the way as the man fell backwards some and found himself leaning against a poll. Laura disappeared back into the crowd heading towards nowhere.

It was only a few minutes later that Travis found the man. He asked multiple people if they'd seen a woman wearing Laura's outfit. He was fortunate enough to get a few answers until he came across the same man. He groaned with a roll of his eyes.

"Ah, not you too. Didn't need to deal with you after your bitch."

"My-" Travis didn't finish the question. "Which way did she go?"

"Why should I tell you? Having a fight?" The man tried to joke.

Travis pulled the man to his feet, restrained him, and began to painfully twist his arm.

"Which way did she go?" It came out almost a growl.

The man pointed the way and Travis pushed him away the man tripping over his feet and onto the ground.

Travis rushed in the direction he was pointed. His heart was racing and he was panicking more and more by the second.

'Stupid girl.' He thought. 'Stupid fucking girl.'

Then finally. Finally, he spotted her. It wasn't just her clothes, even with it down he recognized her hair and he was familiar with her gait. He muttered brief apologies as he rushed forward. The crowd thickened again. He didn't want to but he didn't have a choice.

"LAURA!" He yelled over the crowd.

A few people looked at him. Some women looked at him until they realized they didn't know him. Laura raised her head.

"LAURA!" He yelled again and she turned and saw him.

He could see her glare and she turned, trying her best to move forward and further away from him. He called her name once more. Then one more time. She pulled out her phone and dialed him.

"Laura." He sounded out of breath when he answered.

"Stop calling my name!"

"Well, how else am I supposed to get your attention. I doubt Kearney or Ms. Kearney would have gotten you to stop. Not to mention I didn't want to start a fan crowd around you. Now would you please stop and come to me."

"Don't do that."

"I would have to tell you what to do if you didn't storm off like you didn't have common sense."

"Not that!"

Travis couldn't believe the nerve she had right now.

"Lau-"

"I just told you not to do that! Don't say my name if it doesn't mean anything." Her voice cracked.

Travis watched as stepped aside next to the entrance of an office building. He hesitates for a moment afraid of his next words.

"Laura," He can see her wince. "I already told you why I had to yell your name. If I ever said it again I wanted it to be..." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm afraid if that happens again. I'm trying to be professional but you are driving me insane. I don't want to make you upset, but Laura please, if I cross that line I don't know if it'll compromise how I work."

He started walking towards her.

"You don't think it could work?" She asks and it relieves him some.

"I don't think it would."

"I don't actually want a new bodyguard."

"I'm glad to hear that, but I'm starting to wonder."

"No. I don't want a new guard and you're not allowed to quit."

"You don't really have a say in that last part."

Laura looked up, Travis now beside her. They both hung up their phones. They both looked tired. Laura was holding back tears best she could.

"Please don't quit." She sniffled. "It's not a big deal. You know what it is. I haven't been in a relationship in a while. I haven't even had a crush in some years. Your nice, you're nice looking." That made Travis huff a laugh. "I think I just fell without thinking. This is a wake-up. I'll be fine, this will go away, and we can go back to normal."

He shouldn't. He shouldn't. He shouldn't. He should tell her that won't work. Tell her that this should be one of their last times together. That he doesn't want to test if her feelings were real. God how he wanted them to be real. Even if he felt bad for making her cry he should have better control over himself. He should be reaching up to wipe her tears away. He should ignore how he feels right now.

"I'm sorry for running." She says.

"I accept your apology." He said reluctantly pulling his hand away. "Will you come back with me? I'll drive you home and we can make lunch."

Laura whipped away her remaining tears.

"Yeah. That sounds nice. Although I don't know if I'll be able to enjoy it fully. My manager's going to be pissed."

Travis nodded in agreement.

"But we can worry about that the moment we get home." He extends his hand. "Come one."

Laura stared for a moment and slowly took his hand. Her hand was still wet, but she could feel how warm his palm was.

"Please stay close."

She nods and they start back towards the car. They didn't say anything as they walked. Neither of them said anything as Travis interlocked his fingers with hers.

Oh so this might have two more parts. I would have put more here, but I went and did a whole mini fic in this already strang bullet point fic.

Dude gjsjfjajfba I wanna shake them both by the shoulders (specially Travis, the self sacrificing dum dum) the frustration with him was real gjsnfjanfjdfn but I do feel it needed to happen 😂 cause he definitely is thick headed 🤦🏻

Can’t wait to see what makes him finally give in 😏

[rowansparrow]

Juke Box Hero: A Rose Story

This is SO STUPID LMAO But I hope you guys like it anyway. I’m back on my bullshit and I am here to provide you with a little story based off THIS POST. Anon, thank you for your service, because this was very, very fun. 

This snippet takes place during Chapter Seven of BAON, during the flashback when Reader is meeting Rex for the first time and Rose and Co. are stuck cleaning up the barracks. You don’t necessarily have to have read it for this to make sense, but the right context might be neat. 

Also, for timeline purposes/in BAON, Tup and Dogma technically never met Rose, as they weren’t part of the 501st before he died, but I’m including them in this because I make the rules and I wanted to. 

Also Denal’s here because I think he’s a funky dude and deserves more content.

The clones deserve to dance and have fun and who’s gonna write them doing that if it ain’t me? 

Rating: Mature-ish? There are some dirty jokes and swearing but mostly it’s Just fun shenanigans with Rose and Bros. 

(Also I spent a TON of time picking everyone’s songs so pls tell me what you think of my selections lmao).

I’m tagging everyone from the BAON tag list in case you’re interested. Enjoy!

In retrospect, perhaps Rose should have put a stop to the loth cat situation – or as Hardcase called it, Operation: P.U.S.S.Y. He claimed it was an abbreviation for “Petting Unusually Sweet Strays, Yeah!”

“You have to call it something else.” Rose had said at the time, staring at the loth cat cradled protectively in Hardcase’s arms.

“But you’re not saying no?” Hardcase prompted eagerly, already bouncing lightly on his heels.

“Just…” Rose pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… clean up after it? And if it breaks anything, it’s on you, and for the love of Force, don’t get caught.”

Now, as the Lieutenant surveyed the disarray that had befallen the barracks, and the company of very disgruntled subordinates, he was reconsidering his earlier leniency.

“I feel as the acting SIC, you’re the one who should be taking the flak for this, not the entire company.” Jesse grumbled, glaring at Lieutenant Rose over his shoulder as he scrubbed at the floor of the barracks.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who brought a pregnant loth-cat into the barracks in the first place.” Rose replied, straightening up for a moment where he’d been hunched over, his back cracking as he moved.

“Well, you didn’t fight me very hard on it!” Hardcase protested. “And I didn’t know Beans was pregnant at the time! I didn’t even know she was a girl!”

His explanation only earned him several slugs to the arm from nearby vode.

“And just because I’m second-in-command does not make me exempt from the Captain’s wrath.” Rose added. “You didn’t get the dressing-down, you just have to carry out the punishment with me.”

“Hang on, I thought we agreed the cat’s name was going to be Road Rash?” Coric asked.

“That’s unladylike.” Said Denal. “And rude. She can’t help her scars.”

“And Beans is ladylike?” Jesse raised an eyebrow.

“She likes it! And her kits looked like beans when they came out too!”

Rose shook his head fondly at his men as they bickered. At least they weren’t complaining anymore.

In truth, he was surprised the situation had been managed as long as it had been. They’d lasted almost a full three weeks without anyone figuring out they were hiding a cat in the barracks. Of course, the kittens made it much harder, and they could only hide them in overturned helmets during inspections for so many days before the helmets started to mewl.

And once Beans threw a tantrum over not having her kits with her, it was game over. She’d knocked over an entire can of armor paint in her wrath, and blue pawprints and large paint puddles coated the durasteel of the barracks, and a few of the bunks had claw and bite marks in the fabric.

“It’ll take us an hour, maybe more, to clean this whole mess up.” Fives complained, looking around the barracks forlornly. He had a nasty scratch just under his eye from finally snatching Beans up in her rampage. “Kriff. I was excited to go out tonight.”

“Not to mention after we finish here the Captain said we had to go take over latrine and canteen detail from other battalions.”

“Then I guess you better get scrubbing.” Kix said absently, thumbing through medical requisition forms on his datapad and sitting cross-legged on one of the few bunks that didn’t have blue paw prints streaked across it.

“Why aren’t you helping? You’re part of the company too.” Echo said. “Fives and I are ARC troopers, if anyone here should be exempt from company-wide punishments, it’s us.”

“I’m not helping because I didn’t participate.” Kix replied, not looking up from his ‘pad.

“The kark you didn’t, you delivered the kits!” Fives snapped.

“Well, Captain Rex didn’t catch me, so.”

“That’s because you went and hid in the medbay and didn’t warn the rest of us he was coming.” Tup muttered under his breath.

“Not true. I sent Jesse a comm.” Kix said, finally looking up only to shrug and return to his work. “Which he didn’t check, and that’s not my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter who was involved and who wasn’t involved.” Dogma piped up. “Clearly, because if it did, I wouldn’t be here either.”

“We know.” Said Jesse and Fives in unison.

Rose sighed, his eyes drifting forlornly to his bunk. He spotted his footlocker sticking halfway out from underneath the durasteel, and he lit up. He opened it quickly, pulling out a beat-up radio he’d gotten at a market stall during one of his first deployments. He’d had to trade a droid popper and half his rations for it – Rex had not been pleased about it when he found out – but it was worth the two-day latrine rotation he’d gotten as punishment.

He’d already downloaded several songs off the HoloNet, along with a few channel recordings of past BoloBall games. Even if he knew who won them, it was still something to listen to on long stints on cruisers.

“What’cha doing, Lieutenant?” Tup asked, peeking around the corner as Rose straightened back up, fumbling with the little radio for a moment and propping it up on one of the bunks so the music could fill the whole room.

“No. NO! No.” Jesse jabbed a finger at the Lieutenant as he saw him set up the radio. “No. Absolutely not. I have had enough of your osik-brained, Force-forsaken, whack-ass music to last me a lifetime.”

Kix chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other trooper. “You listen exclusively to electronic dance music. Even when we aren’t at 79s. You have no room to talk.”

“This is better than that.” Rose promised, dialing up the volume. “This is the kind of stuff you’d find on the jukebox at Dex’s Diner.” He grinned. Dex was personal friends with General Kenobi, and was one of the few Coruscant establishments that was friendly to clones, as long as they behaved themselves. Rose had gone there with his brothers a handful of times, and even Anakin had dragged his Padawan Ahsoka, Rose, and Rex along once.

“You have a radio?” Dogma frowned. “Isn’t that contraband, sir?”

“Relax, it’s an old prewar-era radio, it’s not hurting anything.” Fives drawled, knocking Dogma lightly on the shoulder. “What’re you gonna play, sir?”

“Let’s see…” Rose filtered through his downloads, and grinned wider, pressing play.

Immediately, soft music rang through the barracks, and Jesse smacked his head against the bunk, groaning loudly.

“I’m begging you, Lieutenant.” Jesse said. “I’m begging.”

Rose was already swaying his hips, bending over to grab Jesse by the chin.

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air.” Rose serenaded him.

Jesse swatted Rose’s hand away, and Rose turned, swinging around on the side of the bunk and pointing to Fives this time. “Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night.”

Fives grinned, joining in even as he stumbled slightly over the words.

“There she stood in the doorway. I heard the mission bell and I was thinking to myself, this could be Heaven or this could be Hell.”

Kix was drumming his fingers on his datapad, nodding along and singing under his breath.

“Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say…”

“This is too slow.” Echo griped, rising to his feet and stepping over Dogma, who was still stubbornly scrubbing away at the barrack floors and refusing to engage even as the rest of the clones began quietly singing along with the chorus.

The ARC Trooper fiddled with the dial for a moment, scrolling through Rose’s music and selecting another song, already grinning as the chanting started through the speakers and eventually rippled through the ranks of the 501st.

“STOP.” Jesse barked, trying to kick Fives as the other ARC trooper hopped to his feet, stomping his feet and chanting along. “STOP, I HATE THIS ONE!”

Rose and Hardcase were chanting too, and Coric had started clapping his hands on an overturned bucket, a few shinies clapping their hands together as Echo shook his ass, kama swaying as he climbed up onto a nearby table. He scooped up a mop, pulling the handle to his mouth.

“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me.” He pointed to Kix, grinding against the handle. “Girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me.”

Kix gave him the finger, and Echo pointed to Fives, who was still chanting with the others but was now holding up his helmet, recording the whole thing. Echo amped up his performance.

“When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s alright. I’m hooked on a feeling!”

Tup whooped from where he’d moved to sit on one of the bunks. Dogma shot him a nasty look, which he ignored in favor of watching Echo strut on the table.

“I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me. Lips as sweet as candy, its taste is on my mind. Girl you got me thirsty for another cup of wine.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I have a good one.” Fives shoved his helmet at Hardcase, letting him take over recording as he scrambled to the radio, quickly turning the dial once again and elbowing Echo off the table as fast, loud, angry guitars shredded through the barracks.

Jesse seemed to perk up just slightly, and any of the 501st troopers who were still trying to actually clean – save for Dogma – had abandoned their supplies and had elected to dance instead, crowding the table and forming a makeshift mosh pit.

Fives was nothing if not a showman, and when he snatched the mop from Echo, he performed.

“When I get high, I get high on speed. Top fuel funny car’s a drug for me, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

He stomped his foot hard on the table, flipping his head back and running one hand messily through his hair.

“Always got the cops coming after me, custom-built bike doing 103, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Rose laughed, watching as Fives looked at the helmet Hardcase was hoisting up over the crowd, singing into the camera and rolling his shoulders back.

“Ooh, are ya ready, girls? Ooh, are you ready now? Woah, yeah! Kickstart my heart, baby give it a start. Woah, yeah! Baby! Kickstart my heart, hope it never stops. Woah, yeah, baby yeah!”

The clones joined him for the chorus, and then Fives dropped to his knees like he’d seen rockers do on the HoloNet, high fiving the nearest vode. Dogma was still stubbornly trying to clean up the barracks, but had moved on to one of the far corners, only giving the rest of his battalion the occasional side-eye.

“Skydive naked from an aeroplane, or a lady with a body from outer space, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart.” He wiggled his hips as he straightened back up, biting his lip through a grin and dropping his hand to his hips and shaking his fist obscenely, as though he was jerking himself off.

“Say I got trouble, trouble in my eyes, I’m just looking for another good time, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Before Fives could do something else profane – or possibly attempt to crowd-surf and give Rose a handful of incident reports to fill out, the music suddenly shifted, and all heads turned to the radio.

Kix was smirking. He’d divested himself of the top half of his armor, instead electing to shimmy his way up onto the table in just the upper half of his blacks and lower armor plates. Fives exited, rejoining the crowd as Kix leveled a sultry look at the camera for just a moment before turning his back on the crowd.

“Clean shirt, new shoes, and I don’t know where I am goin’ to. Silk suit, black tie, I don’t need a reason why.”

He spun quickly, switching his grip on the mop handle as though he was holding a woman in his arms, dipping it low towards the crowd as he sang.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives and Echo were howling with laughter, and Hardcase wolf-whistled loud enough that Rose’s ears rang. Even Jesse had finally joined in, nodding his head along to the music and trying to bite back a grin. Tup had left the crowd to instead attempt to pull Dogma in, and Denal had rounded up a few newer members and was trying to push them closer to the front.

Kix unzipped the top half of his blacks, doing a slow strip-tease in time with the music.

“Gold watch, diamond ring, I ain’t missin’, not a single thing. And cufflinks, stickpin, when I step out I’mma do you in.” Kix shrugged out of his blacks and rolled his hips along the mop handle, dropping his ass low and slowly dragging himself back up, grinding against the handle.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives actually pretended to faint, falling backwards into Echo, who was laughing so hard that he fell over with him.

“ALRIGHT!” Dogma shouted over the music, elbowing his way through the crowd with Tup following anxiously behind him. Dogma firmly stopped the music, hands on his hips as he turned to face the rest of his brothers, who’d begun to boo.

“We have orders,” Dogma reminded them. “This is a punishment, not a party. When we finish here, we’re supposed to clean the shower block, and then we’re supposed to report to the mess hall and take over the canteen cleanup shifts.”

“We know the orders, Dogma.” Rose said, putting a hand on the younger trooper’s shoulder. “There’s no harm in having fun while you work.”

“I’m the only one still working.” Dogma grumbled.

“Alright, alright, we’ll turn it low for now, and we’ll finish up in here, then we can bring the radio with us when we move to the refreshers and canteen. Fair?” He asked, turning to the rest of the men. There were a few muttered responses, and Rose raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite make that out.” He said. “We are cleaning this mess up, correct gentlemen?”

“Sir yes sir!” They all answered quickly, hurrying back to work.

Rose chuckled, shifting the music to something a little calmer, the gentle piano wafting through the barracks as they continued to clean up.

Denal’s head perked up as soon as he heard the piano start, and while he didn’t climb up onto the table like his brothers had, he smiled to himself, turning back towards the spot he was scrubbing and singing to the durasteel floor.

“I'm sailing away. Set an open course for the Virgin Sea.”

Echo hummed, closing his eyes and rocking back on his heels for a moment, listening to his older vod croon.

“'Cause I've got to be free. Free to face the life that's ahead of me.” Denal continued, his voice soft but steady. “On board I'm the captain, so climb aboard. We'll search for tomorrow on every shore and I'll try, oh Lord I'll try… to carry on.”

Somebody whistled, a few scattered claps ringing through the barracks. Coric picked up where Denal left off.

“I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory. Some happy some sad.” He sang. “I think of childhood friends, and the dreams we had.”

Tup glanced to Dogma, who was practically seething as he scrubbed at the same spot on the floor that he’d been working on for the past several minutes. “You like this song, don’t you, Dogma?”

“No I don’t. Shut up.”

“Join in. They won’t mind.” Tup encouraged.

“No.”

“We live happily forever, so the story goes. But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold.” Sang Coric. “But we'll try best that we can to carry on!”

The music picked up, and Jesse shot Rose a look.

“This is a deceptively fast song.” He said.

“It sneaks up on ya.” Rose chuckled.

The barracks devolved into chaos once again, the clones all screaming along to the lyrics, even the ones who didn’t know the words picked it up quickly, encouraged by their brothers.

Despite the distractions, they finally finished cleaning the barracks, and Rose plucked the radio from where he’d stashed it, leading the way down the hallway towards the refreshers. The 501st were especially rowdy in the quiet halls – most of the barracks were empty, the clones who weren’t being punished for loth-cat related shenanigans were taking advantage of the shore leave.

When they opened the door to the shower block, they encountered a few members of the 212th already in there, cleaning up.

“Pack it in, lads.” Rose announced. “We’re taking over for you.”

“What? Why?” Boil asked, leaning on a mop and raising an eyebrow. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Yes.” Hardcase replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“All of you?” Waxer poked his head out from inside one of the refresher stalls, Crys and Wooley pausing from where they were wiping down countertops.

“Yeah, it’s Hardcase’s fault. As usual.” Jesse said, strolling over to Boil and plucking the mop from his hands. “We’re supposed to take over your shifts.”

“Good, I was hoping to get to 79’s tonight before last call. I hear they’ve got purple spotchka.” Boil said excitedly, glancing at Waxer over his shoulder.

“We can help you finish.” Waxer said, immediately raining on his brother’s parade. “There isn’t much left to do anyway.”

“You sure?” Rose asked. “It’s technically a punishment -.”

“Nah, it’s fine, there really isn’t much left, aside from the toilets.” He grinned. “But you boys can handle those.”

“Fair enough.” Rose chuckled, nodding over his shoulder to his men. Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase were in a heated four-way battle of rock, flimsi, cutters in order to determine who had to clean the toilets first.

“What’s that?” One trooper Rose didn’t recognize asked, pointing to his hand.

“It’s a radio!” Rose said cheerfully. “I’m err… technically not supposed to have it. But we’ve been listening to music while we worked.” He set it up on the countertop. “Do you have a favorite song…?”

“Spitter.” The 212th trooper supplied helpfully.

“Spitter.” Rose repeated, chuckling to himself and wondering how the hell he’d earned that name. “Do you have a favorite song?”

“I don’t know the name of it.” The trooper admitted shyly. “But – but it’s the one they play on the hits channel all the time. I hear it playing in the admiral’s quarters on the Negotiator all the time.”

“I know that one!” Waxer said excitedly, nodding to Rose. “It’s the one Commander Cody likes. You were playing it in the hangar a few weeks ago when our flight detail overlapped.”

“I remember.” Rose smiled, and turned the song on.

Immediately, every head, including Dogma’s, perked up at the familiar tune. Fives clapped his hands together, getting them started.

“When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.”

The younger trooper, Spitter, lit up and followed it up.

“When I go out, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

Waxer elbowed Boil, trying to get him to join in, but the other trooper shook his head and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes even as Waxer sang.

“If I get drunk, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.”

Their voices carried through the refresher’s tiled walls, and Jesse picked up where Waxer left off.

“And if I haver, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you.”

When the chorus rolled around, everyone joined in, their voices bouncing off the walls around them.

“But I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door.”

“When I’m working,” Kix began, offering a hand to Wooley and giving him a playful spin. “Yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you.”

“And when the money comes in for the work I do, I’ll pass almost every penny on to you.” Wooley laughed, shoving Kix away with a grin.

“When I come home,” Tup piped up quickly, before someone else could. “Oh, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you.”

“And if I grow old,” Crys smirked, shaking his shoulders at Fives, who punched him playfully in the arms and joined in, singing the line in unison. “Well, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you.”

The chorus returned, and they sang with even more feeling than before, dancing and tossing their heads back, shouting along to the words and nearly drowning out the music itself as they sang.

As the final verse approached, Waxer sidled up next to Boil, giving him a hopeful look. His brother sighed, scrubbing a hand bitterly over his face and reluctantly joined in.

“When I’m lonely, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you.” He sang.

“And when I’m dreaming,” Echo called. “Well I know I’m gonna dream, I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you.”

“And when I go out, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.” Fives followed.

“And when I come home, yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you.” Denal said.

Tup took a deep breath, preparing to finish off the verse, but he was cut off.

“I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home,” Dogma’s voice was shaky as all eyes turned to him, and he finished in a squeak. “With you.”

The room erupted in cheers, Fives catching Dogma under his arm and giving him a noogie as the chorus rang out once again, everyone shouting along to the lyrics together.

When the song ended, and the cleanup was done, the 212th parted ways with the 501st, the brothers patting one another on the back and jeering affectionately at one another now that the song and dance was done.

“If you finish with everything before final call, catch up with us at 79’s.” Boil called over his shoulder. “We can give the vode there a run for their money with our rendition of that song.”

“Count on it.” Rose chuckled, giving the other company a little salute before leading his men on towards the canteen.

The canteen, blessedly, was empty, and most of it was already clean. All they really had to do was wipe everything down, mop, and then make sure the kitchen was well-prepped for the next day.

“I didn’t know you had it in ya, Dogma.” Echo said affectionately, knocking his younger vod playfully in the shoulder as they walked.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Dogma muttered, his ears burning as he pushed into the canteen, grabbing the cleaning supplies from the nearby supply closet.

“Who’s turn was it for a solo?” Fives asked, watching as Rose started to set up the radio above one of the food windows so it could project into the entire cafeteria.

“I think Dogma should go.” Kix grinned. “Now that we know he’s got some pipes.”

“Absolutely not.” Dogma said immediately, not looking up from where he was wiping down tables.

“I can go first?” Tup offered, raising his hand sheepishly. Dogma shot him another stern look, but Tup was already wandering over to the radio, moving the dial and tentatively pressing play.

Upbeat music filled the canteen, and the other troopers cheered as Fives ushered Tup over to the nearest table, boosting him up on top of it and then thrusting a mop into his hands. Hardcase was already fumbling with the helmet again, trying to get a recording as Tup tapped his foot along with the beat, nodding his head as he found his rhythm.

“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say. I come home in the morning, I go to bed feeling the same way.”

Fives was leading other troopers in pounding the surrounding tables in time with the drumbeats while Echo was leading another group to clap in time.

“I ain’t nothing but tired! Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself.” Tup flashed the camera a grin, reaching up and pulling his hair tie out, shaking his wild curls loose around his head. “Hey there baby, I could use just a little help.”

Jesse whistled, and Dogma had stopped cleaning and was watching his brother, the slightest smile pulling at his lips.

“You can’t start a fire, can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

Tup shook his hair out of his eyes, tossing his head back and jerking his hips.

“Messages keep getting clearer, radio’s on and I’m moving ‘round my place. I check my look in the mirror, wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!”

He swayed his hips again, and Hardcase shoved the camera at Kix instead so he could join in the clapping.

“Man, I ain’t getting nowhere, I’m just living in a dump like this. There’s something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is.”

He hopped off the table, instead taking Dogma’s hand and dragging him towards the makeshift stage.

“You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

He pushed the mop into Dogma’s hands instead, beaming at him as he scurried off the table, sprinting over to the radio and quickly changing the song.

Immediately, slow guitar started but quickly escalated into heavy drums and fast riffs. Dogma’s cheeks turned a darker shade, and he looked frantically to Tup, trying to climb back down off the stage.

“No, no, come on!” Fives shouted, trying to body block Dogma from getting down. “Come on, you got this!”

The lyrics began, and Dogma sang along, his mouth barely moving, voice almost imperceptible.

“Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken… and the violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?”

“Come on!” Tup called to him. “You LOVE this song! Let ‘em hear it!”

Dogma grit his teeth, his voice gaining strength. “But you see, it’s not me, it’s not my family, in your head, in your head they are fighting.”

He stomped his foot on the table, practically snarling out the words. “With their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns, in your head, in your head they are crying.”

He threw his head back, and for not the first time that night, the radio was drowned out by cheers.

“In your head! In your head! Zombie, Zombie, Zombie. What’s in your head? In your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie!”

Dogma climbed off the table quickly, his ears and cheeks burning but a small smile was on his face, even as he was smothered by Hardcase, Fives, Tup, and Echo swarming him with hugs and rubbing his head affectionately.

Jesse climbed up onto the table next, picking up the discarded mop and clearing his throat.

“I would just like to dedicate this song to the gorgeous woman I picked up at 79s last week.” He drawled, nodding once to Kix, who was hovering knowingly by the radio. He nodded once to the helmet, which was now stationed on a nearby table, still recording. “Darling, you had the best pair of tits I have ever seen in my entire life, and you had the mouth of an angel and the coochie of a devil.”

Fives whistled, and Coric snickered. Rose rolled his eyes.

“So, babygirl, this one is for you.”

Kix turned on the radio, and Jesse grinned.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name.”

Guitar rang out through the mess hall, and Jesse bit his lip, rolling his hips as he leaned slightly off the edge of the table.

“An angel’s smile is what you sell, you promised me heaven then put me through hell. Chains of love got a hold on me, when passion’s a prison, you can’t break free.”

He dropped into a crouch, singing directly into the camera.

“Whoa, you’re a loaded gun, whoa, there’s nowhere to run, no one can save me, the damage is done!”

He jumped to his feet, the table shaking under him as he landed.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. You give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name!” He turned his back on the crowd, dropping low again and slowly rising, shaking his ass. “Yeah you give love…”

He looked over his shoulder, tossing the camera a wink. “…a bad name.”

The music changed abruptly, and for a moment Jesse looked pissed. “What the hell, ‘Case?”

But his expression shifted as Hardcase rushed to the table, pushing his brother out of the way and taking the mop from him. The crowd cheered all over again as Jesse climbed down, brothers slapping him on the shoulders as Hardcase’s song started up.

“We finish strong, right vode?” He asked cheekily.

“We still have to finish cleaning!” Dogma called back.

Hardcase only smirked in response, and sang quickly to keep up with the lightning fast lyrics.

“Backstroking lover always hiding ‘neath the cover, can I talk to you, my daddy say. He said, you ain’t seen nothing ‘til you’re down on a muff and then you’re sure to be a-changin’ your ways.”

He cupped his codpiece, bucking his hips forward into his own hand.

“I met a cheerleader, was a real young bleeder, all the times I can reminisce. ‘Cos the best things of lovin’ with her sister and her cousin only started with a little kiss, like this!”

He swung his arms wide, shaking his ass in time with the music and stuck his tongue out, having the time of his life.

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

He walked backwards along the table, rolling his shoulders back as he moved.

“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”

The rest of the 501st joined in with him, repeating the chorus of “Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way!” over and over again, Hardcase taking over again as the next verse began.

“School girl sweetie was the sassy kinda classy, little skirt’s climbing way up her knees. There was three young ladies in the school gym locker when I noticed they was lookin’ at me.”

He ran his hands along his thigh, mimicking raising a skirt.

“I was a high school loser, never made it with a lady ‘til the boys told me something I missed. Then my next-door neighbor with a daughter had a favor so I gave her just a little kiss, like this!”

“Do you think he has any idea what he’s singing about?” Kix asked Rose, leaning back against the counter and chuckling.

He watched as Hardcase went back to grabbing his own crotch, dry-humping the air and hummed.

“I’d say most likely.”

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

Hardcase grinned, and to both Kix and Rose’s utter chagrin, Hardcase actually did dive off the makeshift stage and attempt to crowd surf.

“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”

“I’m not patching you up!” Kix shouted over the roar of the music. Rose chuckled, turning the volume nod down as the rest of the 501st shouted in protest.

“Alright, that’s enough for now.” The Lieutenant said, taking control once more. “We can listen to it quietly in the background, but we really do need to wrap up cleaning.”

“Why? Got a date tonight?” Jesse asked with a raised eyebrow. Rose punched him lightly in the arm, and they got back to work once again.

They worked in relative silence, the occasional voice humming or singing along to the music, but they remained productive right up until one of the final songs Rose had downloaded cut through the speaker. The piano wasn’t as rich-sounding as it was through a regular speaker, but even through the tinny cadence of the beat-up radio, every single trooper in the canteen bolted upright, eyebrows raised. Rose smiled knowingly, and turned up the volume once again.

Fives beamed, sitting down on top of one of the tables and laying back, one leg bent and the other stretched flat, a hand behind his head as he sang up at the ceiling.

“Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Jesse leaned back against the wall on the other side of the canteen, closing his eyes as he joined in.

“Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Echo kept mopping, but was grinning as he picked up the next line. “A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume.”

Kix grinned. “For a smile, they can share the night, it goes on, and on, and on, and on.”

The rest of the 501st joined in together, their voices carrying in perfect harmony.

“Strangers, waiting. Up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“Night!” Hardcase shouted, straining every muscle in his chest and neck as he struggled to reach the high note.

Tup picked up the next verse, climbing onto one of the tables and dragging Dogma up with him once again.

“Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants the thrill. Paying anything to roll the dice just one more time.”

Dogma smiled, nodding his head along to the music. “Some will win, some will lose.”

Tup threw his arm around his brother, and the two of them sang together. “Some were born to sing the blues!”

Rose’s voice carried from over by the radio. “Oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on, and on and on!”

“Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“NIGHT!” This time, it was Dogma, of all people, who rang out with the high note, and the explosion of shouts and cheers was deafening. They were screaming along to the lyrics, dancing and jumping and shouting and swaying in time with the song.

“Don’t stop believin’! Hold on to that feeling. Streetlight people! Don’t stop believin’, hold on-”

“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”

The booming voice was so powerful, it could be heard even over the shouts of all the clones. Echo was closest to the radio, and quickly shut it off as the song and dance stopped immediately, every clone scrambling to stand at attention.

The Jedi that filled the doorway was massive, an imposing shadow in the entrance to the canteen. He zeroed in on Tup and Dogma, who had been standing closest to the entrance, and stormed towards them.

“Who is your commanding officer?!”

“Me, sir.”

The Besalisk Jedi turned, spinning on Rose immediately. He stalked over to the Lieutenant, jabbing a meaty finger into his chest, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

“What is the meaning of this?” He snarled.

“Sir, we were assigned cleaning detail.” He explained. “We were just finishing up.”

The Jedi bared his teeth. “Doesn’t look like much cleaning was taking place to me.”

He surveyed the rest of the troopers, but turned his head back to Rose.

“What is your designation?”

“CT-7673.” Rose recited immediately, keeping his back ramrod straight at attention, even though the Jedi was deep in his personal space. He knew this man. General Krell had quite the reputation through the GAR, and Rose had no clue what he was doing outside of the Jedi Temple this late at night.

“Who is your commanding officer?”

“Captain Rex, sir.”

“Not a clone! Is there a malfunction in your design?!” The Jedi bellowed. A few feet behind him, Hardcase flinched at the sudden loud sound, but Rose held still. “Your general, CT-7673! Who is your Commanding Officer!?”

“General Skywalker, sir.” Rose said instead. The canteen was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

He turned his head, noticing the little radio on the table and picked it up, the device small in his massive hands, raising an eyebrow at Rose. “Contraband, disturbance of the peace, behavior unbecoming of an officer, insubordination.” He hissed. “That’s plenty of grounds for a court martial, Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” Fives spoke up, taking a step towards them. “Proper chain of command designates General Skywalker as the one to hand down a court martial order, sir.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with contempt. “With all due respect, sir, you do not command this battalion, and cannot order a court martial on the Lieutenant.”

“Fives.” Rose snapped, whipping his head around to face Fives. “Stand down. Now.”

The ARC Trooper shrank back, his hands curled into fists at his sides, and the General turned back to Rose.

“Be that as it may,” he began icily. “You can rest assured this breach of conduct will not go unreported.”

“Yes sir.” Rose replied stiffly.

General Krell pulled back at last, surveying the battalion. “I want this canteen spotless, and not a word out of you in the meantime!” He ordered. “And I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore.”

With one quick motion, he smashed the radio in his hands. Rose heard a soft, hurt sound somewhere behind him, but ignored it. He didn’t look away from the General.

“Dismissed.” Krell growled, turning and stalking towards the doors. “And as for you,” He turned, jabbing one large finger at Fives. “I’ll be mentioning you in my report as well. Pray our paths do not cross again, clone.”

And with those words, he left the canteen.

Rose relaxed, but only minimally so. The silence hung heavy over the 501st, and everyone quietly shuffled back to work.

Rose gripped the mop handle tightly as he worked, his knuckles turning white. His chest burned, a tight, constricting feeling wrapped around his insides. It was a feeling he’d never felt before – anger, sadness, humiliation, resignation – all rolled into one hateful ball, coiled in his gut.

“Finished with the kitchen, sir.” Came Tup’s small voice. He’d put his hair back up, the tight bun back to regulation standards. Dogma was standing stiff beside him, still not entirely relaxed yet. “And the um – the canteen area’s just about wrapped up as well.”

“Very good.” Rose said with a small nod. “I’ll report back to Captain Rex, let him know we’ve finished for the night.”

“Sorry about your radio, sir.” Hardcase murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, ‘Case.” Rose smiled, but his eyes were sad. “It was – it was old, anyway. Just a silly thing.”

Fives bristled, his jaw setting as he tossed the bucket he’d been holding back into the supply closet with far more force than necessary.

“We aren’t supposed to leave base for the rest of the night, right?” Denal asked, arms folded across his chest as they finished the last of the cleanup. “Guess we could play Sabacc or something back in the barracks?”

There were a few murmured agreements, and the 501st shuffled back towards the barracks. Rose was still thinking about the General, and had a bitter taste in his mouth. They hadn’t been doing anything wrong, really.

Was it such a crime to enjoy oneself? To simply exist?

Fives and Echo fell into step on either side of Rose, the ARC Troopers bracketing their Lieutenant. “I bet Echo and I could rebuild the radio.” Fives offered. “Might take a little bit, but even if we can’t, Kix is real good at bartering stuff down in the markets. Remember when he got us those HoloDisc movies for just a tube of bacta?”

“We could find another radio for you?” Echo suggested hopefully. “Or maybe,” he lowered his voice slightly. “Maybe Y/N could find you one?”

“Let it go.” Rose said, picking up the pace and pulling away from the ARC Troopers. They reentered the now far tidier barracks, and Rose gravitated back to his footlocker, starting to close it up and push it back under his bed. The metal clacked slightly against the edge of the bunk, and he paused, the tinny sound echoing in his ears.

He knocked the footlocker against the bunk again, listening to the little noise again.

Kark it. He was more than just a mindless flesh-droid. He was a person. A human being. And he liked music.

And he wasn’t about to let anybody take that away from him.

“I never got to do a song.” He announced, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips.

“You can’t be serious, sir.” Dogma said, shaking his head at him. “Haven’t we gotten in enough trouble?”

“I’m sure the General’s slithered back to the Temple by now, where he belongs.” Jesse replied, turning back to the Lieutenant. “We don’t have a radio anymore, sir.”

“We don’t need one.” Rose said, pulling his footlocker back out and propping up one leg on it. He tapped his foot against the metal, the rhythm settling, nodding his head along. He took a deep breath.

“Standing in the rain, with his head hung low. Couldn't get a ticket, it was a sold out show.”

Fives recognized the song, and started tapping his foot along, drumming his hands on an overturned weapons crate.

“Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene. Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream.” Rose climbed up onto the table. “He heard one guitar!”

Jesse slammed a bucket from earlier down against the supports of a bunk, the loud clang mimicking the strum of a guitar.

“Just blew him away. He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day, bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store. Didn’t know how to play it, but he knew for sure, that one guitar!”

Another clang, this time from Kix repeating Jesse’s motion, and Echo, Denal, Coric and Fives were all drumming on overturned buckets and crates.

“Felt good in his hands! Didn’t take long to understand, just one guitar, slung way down low, was a one way ticket, only one way to go.”

Tup and Hardcase had picked up a brush – typically used for scrubbing their blasters and armor down – and were knocking it against the durasteel wall. Dogma had rounded up the others, a look of sheer determination on his face as they clamored around the bunks and tables, smacking their fists in rhythm with anything they could get their hands on.

“So he started rockin', ain't never gonna stop. Gotta keep on rockin', someday gonna make it to the top!”

Rose stomped his feet, and the rest of the 501st joined him for the chorus.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero!”

“He took one guitar,” Rose sang, while the rest of the battalion echoed “juke box hero, stars in his eyes” around him. “Juke box hero, he’ll come alive tonight.”

The singing quieted down, listening for a moment to see if anyone was coming, and Rose grinned, starting again and pitching his voice low.

“In a town without a name, in a heavy downpour, thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door.”

The clones took position, preparing to resume their makeshift instruments as Rose picked up in volume.

“Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain. And that one guitar, made his whole life change! Now he needs to keep on rockin', he just can't stop! Gotta keep on rockin', that boy has got to stay on top!”

Once again, shouts rang out as his brothers joined him for the chorus, their voices louder and more determined than ever, refusing to be silenced.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. Yeah, juke box hero, stars in his eyes. With that one guitar, he'll come alive, come alive tonight.”

As they finished the song, Rose panted softly, glancing down at his commlink again. He decided he was going to go off base after all. He wanted to see you, and nobody, not his Captain’s orders, and definitely not some karking General like Krell, was going to stop him.

“Dismissed.” He said curtly, and took off out the door without another word.

~

SONGS USED (because they’re all bangers and you should listen to them): 

The 501st (introduction): Hotel California Echo: Hooked on a Feeling  Fives: Kickstart My Heart Kix: Sharp Dressed Man Jesse: You Give Love a Bad Name Coric and Denal: Come Sail Away Dogma: Zombie Tup: Dancing in the Dark Hardcase: Walk This Way The 212th and 501st: I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) The 501st (Canteen finale): Don’t Stop Believin’ Rose and the 501st: Juke Box Hero

TAG LIST (Aka everyone on the tag list for BAON):  @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyacey @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @hockeyjedi13 @crazygirlwithasword @dar-manda-rjct @gotomarvelgal @baba-fett @whore4rex @bubblegumcat229 @generalcannoli @hellothere501stlover @in-the-crosshairs @vaderthepotater @for-the-love-of-clones @babyhowzer @imrealatedtothe501st @chewychewyque @bobafettuccini @baba-fett-writes @chromia7567 @coffeeandtodd @thedomesticatednerd @kirinpl @djarrex @a-c-lee @embarrassedauthornerd @kaorikoizumi @the-girl-of-rain-and-shadows @sammi9498 @theroguesully @salaminus

[portsidewonderland]

Okay, I’ve been wanting to write this for the last three weeks, but I’m finally - finally - sitting down to do just that.

First, I’m a Rogan shipper. I’ve been a Rogan shipper for the last 20 years, but in that time, I’ve grown, I’ve experienced my own sense of love, and I’m a writer so I’d like to think I’m familiar with structure, characterization, and the like.

Second, I’m focused on the film franchise, strictly speaking. Just wanted to make sure that is clear.

Having said that, when I discuss how utterly wrong the X-Men franchise is, I’m talking about from a story standpoint. When I speak of Logan and Rogue, if that ship isn’t your jam, fine, but the points I make still stand.

Finally, spoiler alert for all of the movies.

Okay, I think we’re ready to jump in.

1. After the first movie, everyone forgot the heart of what made the first movie so special: Wolverine & Rogue

I don’t necessarily mean together. I mean, the movie focused primarily on Logan’s story and Rogue’s story. It was told through THEIR POV. This is important because, essentially, we’re asked to connect with these two characters AND WE DO.

The dialogue, the acting, and their stories (which reflect each other’s as well as stand on their own) draw us in and we are hooked.

Even the critics thought some of the best scenes are the ones Logan and Marie share together. Multiple critics discuss chemistry, how they add to the scene, etc.

Regardless of whether you ship them or not, there’s a compelling story between the two. This vulnerable, slip of a girl is the most powerful X-men out there (or one of) and this growly, fierce angry, broken man who’s been alone for so long that out of everyone he’s met and seen, THIS girl brings him to his knees.

And it’s because she isn’t scared of him.

Even after watching him beat the shit out of his opponent, even after seeing the claws threaten humans and slice through a barrel of a gun, she still thinks, I can trust him.

And when he catches her in his trailer, she STILL isn’t afraid of him. She gives him lip. She calls him out on his shit.

That’s how she manages to slide through the cracks.

And that is BEAUTIFUL.

I’m not here to talk about the performances, but Jesus Christ, I love this scene so damn much. The chemistry RADIATES. The glances, the confusion, the curiosity, and the attraction. (Sorry not sorry, it’s there on both parts, I’ll die on this hill.)

Anyway, the first movie is about how this girl brings the savage, feral Wolverine to his knees. How she gets him to STAY. How she gets him to open up.

Yes, Logan wants info on his past, but he’s staying for Marie. We all know it.

When he threatens Jean after first waking up, Jean is scared. And for good reason, obviously.

But Logan STABS Marie with his claws, and guess what? She’s still not scared of him. She’s worried about him.

This is THEIR story.

Do you really think Wolverine is going to go running around in leather for anyone but Marie? Yeah, I don’t think so. I mean, he literally STABS HIMSELF IN THE CHEST to free himself and get to her.

He PROMISES her that he’d take care of her. Do you think Wolverine bullshits? Hell no, he doesn’t.

And that’s why....

2. The whole Jean thing was just not great.

Okay, can I tell you something?

I don’t see Jean as a sympathetic character. She’s engaged to Scott and suddenly, Wolverine comes strolling in and she can’t get her shit together?

I mean, okay, I get it, let’s be real.

But Scott isn’t a bad guy. He nay be a dick, but he treats Jean well. Because we’re not in Cyclops’ or Jean’s head, we as the audience don’t see any marital/romantic issues between them. Hence, when Jean gets flustered by Wolverine to the point where she lets him goad her into reading his mind, she knows what she’s doing. She likes it. She likes Logan’s attention.

Not because she likes Logan.

(I read this fic where basically Jean tells Logan he could have been anybody, and I thought that was so perfect)

But because he’s giving her attention. He makes her feel desired.

And she leads him on.

Right there, I don’t like her, and I think that’s why a lot of Rogan shippers don’t like her is that she has no problem toying not only with Logan’s feelings, but with Scott’s.

But that’s not even the worst part of this.

At the end, when Logan asks for Marie and Jean makes her comment, she adds, “I think she’s taken with you.”

Like - why would Jean say that? Why mention it?

That’s petty ass shit right there.

To me, what she’s trying to do is align herself with Logan as adults and belittle Marie for having a little crush on him. Like it’s so juvenile.

And the worst line of this whole movie is when he says, “Tell her my heart belongs to another.”

Want to know why?

Because the writers/director haven’t SHOWN this. This line is forced here to TELL the audience that we should be shipping Jean and Wolverine. It’s sloppy writing. It tells me they think the audience are idiots.

Really, Logan?

Jean has your heart even though you completely go against Tall Dark and Feral to pick up a girl, then stay at the school with her, leave a fucking mansion to bring her back, make a promise to her, go after her after she’s kidnapped, stab yourself in the chest, fling yourself on the Statue of Liberty AND RISK YOUR FUCKING LIFE TO SAVE ROGUE’S JUST BY TOUCHING HER and you want me to believe your heart belongs to Jean????

Please, tell me, why the FUCK should I buy that?

Oh, because they’re the same age?

LOL no.

Anyway, I didn’t like Jean’s characterization because of that. Because she’s leading people on, because she needs to put down Marie’s feelings after her ordeal because of her insecurity, because of it all.

Which is why I’ll never ship them together.

Logan is at his worst when he’s around Jean.

Anyway.

And Jean is just the worst.

3. They took something meaningful and they fucked it

Logan promises to take care of Rogue. Do you know important that is for both of them as individuals and their relationship?

Rogue only goes back because of Logan. Not for anyone else. Not even Bobby. She comes back, she stays, for Logan.

Where do we see that after the second movie?

He’s so goddamned focused on Jean, on everything about her, that he barely notices that Rogue is ready to get the cure.

I’m GLAD they got a scene together. Because of their looks.

I am.

But shit.

It’s like Logan has completely forgotten all about Rogue, and I’m sorry, but after that first movie, I just can’t buy that.

I can buy that he leaves to check out his past. The dog tag scene is one of my absolute favorites. That’s perfect. Makes sense.

(Also, side note: Fic is so beautiful about this but he isn’t afraid to touch her. Like, he doesn’t HAVE to play with her hair but he does. It’s playful and flirty. It IS. He could have just said he liked her hair BUT HE HAD TO TOUCH IT. And this is HUGE for Rogue because honestly SHE’S afraid to touch and of herself but if Logan isn’t afraid, she stops being afraid - if that makes sense.)

But seriously? He’s not calling the mansion, not writing to Rogue?

I don’t believe that for one second.

This is why I will never watch The Wolverine after that first time (I refuse especially after the director said he was contemplating adding Rogue at the end and didn’t and FUCK EVERYTHING.) because he just leaves because he’s upset about fucking JEAN

I’m sorry but the Wolverine isn’t ABOUT Jean.

If that was the case, we should have had point of views between Logan and Jean in the first movie, not Rogue.

We should have SEEN their development, but we didn’t.

We’re TOLD it.

I’m sorry, but how do you want me to believe that the big bad Wolverine runs off to Japan because he’s sad about Jean? Like, so he’s just going to leave Rogue alone with all of those threats? Are you fucking kidding me?

Show them keeping in touch or SOMETHING. You can’t expect me to see such a huge transformation arc in Logan in the first movie that just gets shit on in every other movie (besides the second). Because that makes Wolverine look like a big, gigantic ASSHOLE and I get that he’s supposed to be that way, but NOT with Rogue.

Which is why Days of Future Past pisses me off as much of the rest them (I’m only discussing the Rogue Cut because I refuse to acknowledge that Bryan Singer - who gave us the first movies - regulated Rogue to such a fucking small cameo.) because Rogue was treated as garbage.

Now, I’m going to assume Logan doesn’t know about what really happened to Rogue because no one told him. But honestly? If he cares about Rogue the way I know he does, he should be asking about her every single time he and Xavier talk.

I love that Logan can sense Rogue when she steps in to help. I love that Rogue refuses to let go of Logan’s mind even in the heart of danger (@bigfrogbestfrogs has an awesome breakdown of these scenes). But I’m appalled at how Kitty is chosen before Rogue? Like, even when coming up with the idea for this movie, why not involve Rogue more?

I refuse to discuss Bobby and her together at the end.

Fuck that.

4. The timelines

Look, I’m not even going to go into the shit that is the timelines.

But honestly?

Fuck everything about that.

I get Singer wanted to retcon X3, but I don’t care.

Based on Apocalypse, the future still sucks so everything failed and then the movie LOGAN takes that shit and amplifies it.

5. LOGAN (the movie)

I’m sorry, but this movie is amazing in some ways and sucks in others.

Want to know why?

Because it takes everything about what made the first movie great and emphasized it.

Laura is too young to be a love interest, so clearly, it’s paternal, and I’m here for it.

But there are so many parallels between logan and Laura and Logan and Rogue that for Logan not to say anything or feel anything in a way tgat tells the audience he’s feeling something just boggles my mind.

Even if he carried HER picture or played with the dog tags and thought of her, something that shows the audience he remembers her, dammit, and she MEANT something to him.

But FUCK how could he NOT?

And that’s why the scene where he’s reading that comic book and he sees himself saving Rogue is so poignant.

Because his gaze lingers.

I mean, obviously I’m assuming she’s dead (which is bullshit but whatever). But still.

And then when he’s dying and Laura is holding his hands and you get that prophecy of him dying with his heart in his hand and I loved how they paired it with the Logan and Rogue song. I loved that callback.

And if the films in between them weren’t such shit, it would be enough.

But it’s not enough for me.

There was so much potential and everything got shit on and it angers me soooo much.

Anyway.

That’s me venting.

Luckily we have so many talented Rogan fic writers and that our ship has survived 20 years.

But still.

What could have been...

Shit.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Fourteen)

Summary: While dealing with a surprising new development in their relationship, Loki and (Y/N) are stuck in the middle of an explosive feud between Steve and Tony.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I’d call this a filler chapter but I absolutely love writing about the Avengers as a whole! I also thought we needed a little break from the plot for some team bonding before things get too crazy lol I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Fourteen November 22nd, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“You read this book when you were how old?”

(Y/N) smiled mischievously and turned her attention back to reorganizing her closet. “I was seven. I checked it out from the library without telling my Aunt Evelyn and read it late at night; I couldn’t sleep without my nightlight on for months afterwards but I’m glad I read it, since it’s a literary classic and everything.”

Loki let out a half-laugh and turned the page of his book. “Well, if we’re ever blessed with children, I think we should wait until they’re at least twelve to introduce them to Dracula. Perhaps even fourteen.”

“Children?”

In an instant, Loki froze and it dawned on him what he’d accidentally said. (Y/N) was also frozen, her arm still extended to grab a hangar from inside the closet. “I-I…I just meant…I’d like to…” Loki cleared his unusually tight throat. “I, ah, wouldn’t mind having…you know, children. Someday. With…with you.” Dammit, I’ve made a mess of things again, Loki inwardly groaned.

They’d only been together for a little over four months and it was much, much too early in their relationship to bring about the subject of children. But after he acknowledged his love for (Y/N), it was challenging for Loki to envision a future without her in it and lately, the idea of a more permanent future with the woman he loved was all he could think about. He knew that his girlfriend liked children; back when she still worked at the New York Public Library, he’d fondly watch her helping them with their homework or reading to them and since officially becoming the Cosmic Sorceress, she’d visited the children’s ward at the nearby hospital once a week to cheer up the young patients. And despite what others might believe, Loki also liked children and the thought of being a father one day – while admittedly a little nerve-wracking – was not an unwelcome one.

Just as (Y/N), with her (Y/E/C) eyes widened in shock, opened her mouth to reply, there came the sounds of voices shouting angrily from the common room down the hall. In an instant, Loki and (Y/N) summoned their magic into the palms of their hands before sprinting out of her suite and down the hallway.

Steve and Tony stood on either sides of the common room and were fully engaged in a blazing argument by the time Loki and (Y/N) arrived. Skidding to a stop beside (Y/N), Loki’s first thought was that he’d never seen either man as angry as they were now, even during the Battle of New York.

“Because you flat-out refused to listen when I said to wait, three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are at the hospital in critical condition!” Tony yelled.

Steve stepped closer and shouted back, “And if I hadn’t acted when I did, an entire apartment complex would’ve been demolished anyway and dozens of people would be dead! Those agents would be fine right now if you hadn’t hesitated to use your scanners!”

“You mean, if I hadn’t stopped to think the situation through?!”

“You’re acting like a civilian, Stark, not a soldier! Our job is to make the tough decisions as quickly as we can for the benefit of the whole, we don’t have the luxury of holding committees for every choice we make!”

“Bullshit, it’s better to weigh options instead of barreling in without a plan; that’s what you’re best at, though, isn’t it? If you hadn’t made the dumb-ass decision to crash that plane in ‘45, you and Carter-”

Before Tony could finish his sentence, Steve landed a punch on his jaw that sent him staggering backwards. Tony quickly surged forward to retaliate, but Loki used his magic to halt his movement while (Y/N) used hers to stop Steve. “Enough!” They dissolved their magic and with matching looks of contempt, both Steve and Tony turned and stormed away, leaving Loki and (Y/N) to gape at each other in shock.

“Yeah, that was a continuation of what happened on the Quinjet.” They turned and watched Bruce step out of the elevator with a weary expression on his face. “I’ll explain everything to you both, but can we do it in private? The rest of the team’s at each other’s throats and I don’t want all the fighting to accidentally trigger the Big Guy…”

After leading the scientist into (Y/N)’s suite and subtly lighting one of her calming lavender-scented candles, Loki sat beside his girlfriend on the sofa and listened as Bruce talked. “This arms dealer was holding an entire apartment building in Luxembourg hostage, said he’d blow the place up if his demands for more guns weren’t met. Fury sent Steve, Tony, Bucky and Clint this morning; the plan was to surround the building and find a way in before going after the guy, but he decided he didn’t want to wait any longer and turned an automatic timer on for the explosives. Cap sent the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in to clear the building and Tony said to wait for the agents to give word before ordering Bucky to take the shot, but Steve didn’t listen. Bucky took the shot, got the guy, but the explosives still went off.” Loki and (Y/N) exchanged looks of confusion, and Bruce continued. “There was a pressure timer hidden in his hand, they call it a dead man’s switch; Tony scanned and saw it at the last second, but Steve was already giving the order to Bucky.” Bruce started pacing as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s like a civil war; Clint and Nat are taking Tony’s side, they think Steve could’ve waited a little longer, and Sam and Bucky are on Cap’s side.” He snorted in derision. “Thanksgiving dinner should be a blast this year.”

(Y/N) nodded, a saddened expression on her face, but Loki furrowed his brow. “Thanksgiving? You host a dinner of thanks on Midgard?”

“I’ll explain it to you later.” She flashed him a brief smile before returning her concerned gaze to Bruce. “Is there anything we can do?”

“You both should probably just stay out of it; they might come around faster if they see that you’re neutral in all this.” The scientist walked to the door. “I’d better go down and talk to Fury, so I’ll see you guys later.”

Once Bruce closed the door behind him, (Y/N) threw herself back against the cushions of the couch and sighed. “How could something like this have even happened? We’ve been such a strong team these past few months and now…”

“They’re both strong-willed men and stubborn in their own right, you know that. Each holds steadfast to their beliefs no matter the consequences; this is a trait of theirs I’ve both admired and admonished in all the time I’ve known them.” Loki admitted. “But Banner is correct, any attempt of ours to help may only worsen the situation for everyone.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Taking in (Y/N)’s troubled frown, Loki decided to try distracting her from their fighting teammates, laying down and resting his head in her lap so that he was staring up at her. “So, a feast of thanks sounds…quaint.”

As he’d hoped, she relaxed as she gave him a look of amusement and began running her fingers through his hair. “It’s more than that, silly. In America, it’s a day where we give thanks for our lives and the people in them. We sit around a table for dinner and let our loved ones know just what they mean to us, that we cherish and appreciate them, no matter any differences…we might…we might have…” (Y/N) trailed off, pausing a moment before gasping in excitement. “Loki, I think I may have either a brilliant plan or an insane one!”

“I know just what you have in mind, darling. Let’s go!” They both hurried to the living room closet and tugged on their coats and scarves; they had a long, long day of shopping ahead of them.

Although he’d acclimated fairly well to Midgard in the months since his arrival, one of the things Loki still utterly despised about the realm were its ‘grocery stores.’ They were crowded, lit by horrendous fluorescent lights and stocked to the brim with inedible, overpriced food; whenever he’d been asked to accompany one of his fellow Avengers on their shopping trips, he would come up with every excuse under the sun to decline their invitation. But he decided to put aside his displeasure for the benefit of his girlfriend and teammates, resigning himself to pushing the rickety metal shopping cart up and down the aisles as (Y/N) read off her hastily-written list.

Their shopping trip had gone far better than he’d imagined and in no time, they were carrying their bags into the lobby of the Avengers Tower.

“You know, we’re going to need an extra pair of hands to help us with the cooking on Thursday.” (Y/N) pointed out as they stepped into their team’s private elevator. “I’m not very good in the kitchen, as you already know, but I’ve always been able to bake pretty decent pies.”

Loki nodded. “All right, so who did you have in mind to help?”

At that moment, the elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal the smiling face of his golden-haired brother. “Ah, there you are! The J.A.R.V.I.S. just informed me you had returned from your outing, was it productive?”

“…You could call it that.”

The tone of his girlfriend’s voice prompted Loki to glance over at her; she was looking from Thor to him, her eyebrows raised and a triumphant smile spreading across her face. Finally understanding her words, Loki’s smile morphed into a look of absolute horror. “Oh no, no, no, not him…!”

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

“Wait, you guys cooked all this? Without burning the kitchen down?”

Loki couldn’t help but give Bruce a pained look. “Believe me when I say that it was not for lack of trying, Doctor Banner.”

Since they wanted dinner to be a surprise, they’d prepared each dish in one of the kitchens used by the new S.H.I.E.L.D. organization; unfortunately, in their attempt to be secretive they were forced into cramped quarters with rather primitive kitchen appliances at their disposal. And to add to Loki’s growing list of responsibilities, he was forced to babysit the love of his life and his brother in order to prevent the dishes from being ruined by their absolute lack of culinary skills. More than once, he had to use his magic to protect the food he’d cooked from (Y/N)’s over-zealousness with the spices and at one point, he was forced to quickly talk Thor out of using his lightning to rapidly cook the turkey. Hopefully it’ll all have been worth it, Loki tiredly thought to himself.

As if in-tuned with Loki’s inner monologue, Bruce nervously adjusted the sleeves of his coat and replied, “Well, I hope this works and doesn’t just end up making everything worse.”

“You and I both, Doctor.” His eyes were drawn to the elevator as its doors opened, revealing (Y/N) and a cart filled with the feast they’d cooked, and he hurried over to meet her. “Everything’s going to plan so far, they think that it’s only the seven of us for dinner.”

With the help of Bruce, they went about setting the enormous table. “I just sent Thor to fetch Team Cap, so they should be here any minute.” Once they finished, (Y/N) removed her apron and smoothed out her skirt, her anxious expression softening a fraction as she turned to the two men. “Now we see if our brilliantly-insane plan will work.”

Loki had just enough time to lean down and press a reassuring kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead before the elevator doors once again slid open.

“Mmm, smells good in here!” Tony grinned, walking up to (Y/N) and handing her a bottle of wine. “I had Pepper ship one of my best labels over from Malibu for the occasion.”

Natasha did little to hide her amusement at his words. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? And you,” She turned to shoot Clint a glare. “If you don’t stop fidgeting, Barton, we’re going to have a problem.”

“I can’t help it, this stupid suit’s uncomfortable!” Clint grumbled; once Natasha returned her attention to the others, the archer rolled his eyes and whispered to Loki, “Damn straight jacket. (Y/N) forced you into one too, huh?”

“Yes, I-” The sight of Steve, Sam and Bucky entering the room behind Thor caused Loki’s words to die in his throat and as the others caught sight of them, he surreptitiously summoned his magic into his hands in case a fight broke out. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Thor and Bruce exchanging weary looks.

Steve’s face was a mask as he stepped forward. “Stark.”

“Asshat.”

All Hel broke loose; Steve and Tony lunged towards one another, their struggling forms barely held back by Bucky and Clint. A cacophony of shouting quickly filled the room as both sides began arguing with each other, but just as Loki raised his arms to use his magic, (Y/N) calmly stepped forward and walked in between the warring groups. The shouting and struggling instantly stopped as they gawked at (Y/N), but she merely smiled warmly at them as she spoke. “Thank you all for coming to our Thanksgiving dinner, Loki and I are glad you were able to make it. Bruce mentioned that you usually don’t celebrate together, but this is my first Thanksgiving with you all and I wanted to mark the occasion with my new family…all of it.” Her words seemed to have their desired intent, as both Steve and Tony relaxed their stances and the others backed away from them. “Now, we should start eating before everything gets cold!”

Needless to say, dinner was a tense affair. Where there was usually the sounds of deafening chatter and laughter, there was quiet murmuring and stoic looks. Loki watched (Y/N) with equal amounts of admiration and sympathy as she tried her hardest to engage their teammates in conversation with one another and with each failed attempt, he could see a little more of her heart breaking. After learning the difficult truth about her parents and having lived so long without a family, (Y/N) deserved to have a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with her friends. They all did, really. This has gone on long enough, Loki thought to himself as (Y/N) silently stared down at her plate; after a slight moment of hesitation, Loki got to his feet.

“I’ve done a fair amount of reading about this country’s Day of Thanks, and the custom of expressing what one is thankful for whilst surrounded by their loved ones piqued my interest. So, let’s begin.” Loki swallowed thickly, looking around the table at his teammates’ confused faces before settling on (Y/N)’s. “I’m thankful for you, darling. You came into my life at a time when I believed I could never be deserving of love and you showed me not only was I deserving, but that loving you would make me a better man. You’re the love of my life, and believe me when I say that all our lives have been blessed since meeting you.” Loki and (Y/N) shared a smile and as he turned back to address the others, he felt her take hold of his hand and squeeze. “And I know you may find this difficult to believe, but I am also thankful for all of you. When I first joined the Avengers, I was bitter and filled with resentment at the prospect of serving out my sentence on a planet I despised with people I despised even more. But after a short while, once we’d come to understand one another, you accepted me as your teammate and friend. Well, some of you more than others.” His eyes flicked to Tony, who hid his small smile behind his hand, and to Clint, who gave him a small shrug. “I value our kinship above all else and on this Day of Thanks, I implore you all to remember our bonds with one another. Severing those bonds on account of a petty disagreement is something you all will come to regret in the future; take it from me, I have firsthand experience in that particular department.” He and Thor shared a knowing look as he took a seat; although he wasn’t comfortable expressing his emotions so openly, the look of pride in his brother’s eyes had made it worth it.

The table was quiet for several moments, until Steve cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, ah…I’m thankful that after coming out of the ice to an unrecognizable world I was able to find such great friends and teammates in you all.” His azure eyes flicked hesitantly over to Tony. “We may not get along all the time or agree on everything, but that doesn’t mean we should allow ourselves to become divided.”

Tony’s face remained unchanged throughout Steve’s speech and when he got to his feet, Loki could practically hear the others’ sharp intakes of breath. The billionaire held Steve’s gaze for a heartbeat before offering him his hand over the table with his trademark smirk on his face. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, ‘Roid Rage.” The two men shook hands and the room almost instantly relaxed; Loki exchanged looks of triumph with his co-conspirators as dinner continued, satisfied that their plan had been successfully implemented.

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

“Dinner was delicious, by the way.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, darling, though I’m not sure what the others thought of it.”

“Well, they were a little too distracted to hand out compliments on food, wouldn’t you say?”

The pair had decided to spend the night catching up on their reading but instead of utilizing the library, they had made themselves comfortable in Loki’s bed with their books and plenty of blankets. Loki sat up against the headboard, his legs stretched out across the mattress and his ankles crossed, and (Y/N) was leaning against his side, her head resting comfortable in the crook of his neck and her free arm holding Loki’s around her waist. They sat in comfortable silence as they read their own books, occasionally permeating the tranquil atmosphere with light conversation.

“Um, Loki?”

“Hmm?” Loki could feel (Y/N) shifting beside him, so he tore his eyes away from his book and watched as she marked her page and set her book down on the bedside table. Setting his own book aside, Loki adjusted himself so he could see her face better. “What is it?”

(Y/N) bit her lip and played with the sleeve of her sweatshirt before answering. “We’ve been so busy planning Thanksgiving dinner and trying to get the team back together that we haven’t had a chance to talk about what you said the other day.” Loki’s brow furrowed in confusion, and the corner of (Y/N)’s mouth twitched. “About wanting to, um, have children. With me.”

“Oh.” Loki felt himself pale; he’d completely forgotten about his slip-up and being reminded of it caused panic to flare in his chest. “I-It was stupid, (Y/N), I just…we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I only meant-”

His explanation was abruptly cut off by (Y/N), who had covered his mouth with her hand and was shaking with suppressed laughter. “I always love those rare moments when you’re the one to get flustered; a little line always forms in between your eyebrows.” She leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss on the spot before moving her hand from his mouth to cup his cheek. “I was surprised by what you said the other day because I didn’t realize that you’ve imagined the same future that I have.” (Y/N) shyly looked down but she reached for his free hand and intertwined their fingers together. “I may not have much experience with relationships, Loki, but I love you with all my heart and if there’s anyone I want to share that wonderful future with someday…well, it’s you.”

A grin slowly formed on Loki’s face; removing one of his hands from hers, he gently took hold of her chin and coaxed her to look at him. “Really?”

She nodded, her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkling with happiness. “Really.”

Surging forward, Loki held her face in his hands and smashed his lips against hers. (Y/N) made a sound of surprise before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing back with equal vigor; Loki eventually found himself lying flat on his back while (Y/N) straddled his waist, one hand clutching her hip while the other traveled up and down her spine as they kissed. (Y/N) pulled her lips away from his and just as his throat made a noise of protest, she began kissing along his jawline and down his neck; needless to say, his annoyance quickly morphed to groans of satisfaction. Only when her soft lips brushed against a particularly sensitive patch of skin near his collarbone did Loki lose all restraint; he flipped them over so that (Y/N) was pressed against the mattress and after grabbing her hands and threading their fingers together, he held them over her head and hungrily attacked her eager lips with his own until an unfortunate lack of air forced them to break apart.

“I said I’d like children with you someday, Loki, not today!” (Y/N) exclaimed breathlessly, a dazed sort of smile illuminating her face as she looked up at him.

Loki let out a laugh before kissing her forehead and rolling off to lay on his back beside her; try as he might, he couldn’t keep the broad grin off his face. “Apologies, my love, but you’re entirely irresistible. If I’d known there were kisses like that in store for me, I’d have told you all that ages ago…”

Later that evening, (Y/N) was fast asleep against his chest and the sounds of her quiet snores filled the room as he stretched out on the bed in contentment. I suppose there’s only one thing left to do, Loki thought tiredly, pulling (Y/N) closer and glancing over at the bedside table that hid the engagement ring before sleep finally claimed him.

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

A/N: Wow, that was a lot of fluff! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Fifteen

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular​ @itscomplicatedx​ @0-artemis​ @vivloki​

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

A Good Deal

lets not talk about what day it was bogizens... 👀 this is part of the hallmark june weddings event we did in the bog!  

it’s also on ao3 here!

Warnings: insecure eskel, stressed triss, honestly its pretty fluffy., could be classified as mild emotional whump.

_____________

Triss was frantic when Eskel trudged up the stairs to the back door in the kitchen. He paused for a moment, leaning against the railing where he could just see her through the window in the door, box braids falling out of her loose bun, some sort of sauce smudged on her forehead, her arm muscles standing out and furiously beating the ever-loving shit out of whatever was in her bowl. Fuck, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A little scary too, but that was his type.

“Afternoon, Gorgeous,” he called through the screen door, waiting for her to unlock it.

Instead of her normal ‘Afternoon, Handsome,’ he got a snappy, “If any bit of your clothing has been at the fire station, take it off out there. I just got the floors clean, and I don’t have time to do them again before the wedding.”

“If you wanted a striptease you could have just asked,” he chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head and kicking his boots off. All of him had just come from the station.

“Eskel, please,” her voice was about an octave higher than when he liked to hear those words normally, and the tightness at the end of her words made him worried.

“I’m clean, ish, can I come in?”

When she let him in she only gave him a quick peck before it was back to what Eskel could now see were egg whites.

“What’s wrong?”

That was apparently the wrong question. Triss dropped the bowl back onto the counter and braced herself against it, hanging her head. Her shoulders looked so tense Eskel thought the muscles might snap, “Fucking everything. Yen’s parents are getting in tomorrow and I only have the middle floor flipped because Annalee called in sick and Taylor is nowhere to be found, and I have to get this breakfast prepped because I have to make sure there’s food for the girls to eat while they get ready. Then I still have to call Jaskier and see when he’s bringing the cake and décor over and I have to run into the store to get the food for the next three days while they’re here and one of Yen’s aunt’s is allergic to everything under the fucking sun! Oh! And I also need to tell Jask to do everything last minute as far as the cake goes because I don’t have the fridge space and-and there’s still a goddamned molehill in the backyard where they’re having the ceremony and-“

Eskel wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing one hand over her sternum and one over her stomach, and held her tight while he whispered, “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out. Just take a minute to breathe for me?”

She took a shuddering deep breath and let it out as she rested her head back against his chest, brushing a stray braid out of her eyes, “…and I have a headache…”

“That,” Eskel mumbled, pausing to press a kiss to her forehead, “we can fix quickly.” He pulled them over to her medicine cabinet and handed her some ibuprofen and a large glass of water, also insisting she sit and eat something.

After a minute or two of Triss picking at some leftover pasta salad she groaned and shoved it away, “ and my mother called.”

“How’re Sheila and the dogs?”

“Fucking unbearable,” she grumbled, pitching her voice up and scrunching her nose to imitate her mother’s nasally voice, “ When are you settling down? I was so excited when you said wedding! Haven’t you hired an inn manager yet? Why do you still clean rooms? Did you read that diet book I sent you?”

Pushing her pasta back towards her after the last question, Eskel did his best to remain casual and calm, “I thought she hated me?”

“She hates all of my partners on principle, but you’ve made the top spot for ‘least hated’,” Triss shot him a little smirk as she aggressively stabbed some more pasta, “I told her I’m quite settled and we’re happy for now and to get her nose out of other people’s business- yes I see the irony .”

Eskel forced a bit of a laugh and tried not to bite his lip. He’d been thinking about this since Yen and Renfri’s engagement party. The way Triss looked at him while the couple gushed about how they were so excited to spend the rest of their lives together (and torment some relatives with making it official) had settled in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Every day, he flip-flopped on whether there was a little hope there or if she just thought it was sweet. And every day he berated himself for not bringing it up, but he had never even entertained the idea of marriage. Hell, his main relationship had been a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Geralt, and the few before that had been rocky at best. He wasn’t cut out to be a husband. Certainly not to someone so kind and gentle and fiercely loyal and sharp as Triss. What did he have to offer? A dangerous job and nasty burn scars for their wedding photos?

She must have sensed his hesitation and pushed her pasta over to him, “Eat. I need to keep cooking… and clean the top floor.”

He hooked an arm around her waist as she walked around the little kitchen island they sat at, pulling her close and stealing the keys out of her pocket, “I’ll go get groceries after I clean the top floor. Is the laundry started?”

“You’re too good to me, Teddy Bear,” she sighed, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Not good enough.”

She frowned, resting her palm over his jaw and searching his eyes, “We’ll come back to that when the inn is ready.”

As he stood, he stole a quick kiss and darted up the stairs, “You’re taking a nap when the inn is ready!”

-

It had all come together in the end. Triss even got some impressed looks and glowing reviews from Yennefer’s family when they arrived. The periwinkle went beautifully with the gardenia Triss had woven through the lattice around the backyard and Eskel had managed to make the moles disappear and patch the grass so even she couldn’t tell where they’d been.

Eskel watched Triss dart around the property, even after her job was done, making sure everyone was comfortable and everything ran smoothly for the girls and as much as he tried to push it down, he was just reminded of how she deserved so much more. More than a scarred, overweight firefighter with a killer therapy bill and a studio apartment that looked more like a hotel room than a home.

As he was watching the different couples swooping around the tiny courtyard dance floor, hands materialized on his shoulders, immediately digging in right where he held tension.

“Now it’s really over,” Triss whispered in his ear.

“Oh? Will you take that nap now?” Eskel shot her a grin over his shoulder as he covered one of her hands with his.

She smiled at him as if he’d said something adorably cute and inaccurate, “I’ll take a dance ?”

Standing up and spinning Triss once before pulling her close to his side, Eskel sighed, “I guess I’ll have to settle for that then.”

Giggling a tad bit deliriously, they made their way onto the dance floor and snuck into a space between the other couples. Eskel did his best to relax and stay in the moment. He took deep breaths and mentally listed little observations about his surroundings, most of which revolved around Triss, and he even tried to distract himself by making some rather suggestive advances, but no matter what he tried, he was still thinking about what she deserved and how it was everything he wasn’t.

Triss rested her hand on his cheek and gave him her trademarked wide-eyed worried look, “Are you alright? Is your knee acting up?”

“M’fine,” he lied, “Just the champagne.”

“Bullshit.”

He should have known she’d call him on it, even in the middle of a wedding she wouldn’t let him get away with anything. Just another reason he wasn’t good enough for her.

Glancing around nervously, Eskel whispered in her ear, “Can we do this later?”

“Absolutely not. You’ve been acting strange for weeks now and it’s making me crazy,” Triss tapped on the point of his chin firmly, calling his attention back to her as they swayed and stepped in a small circle like everyone else.

“Been making me crazy too…” he mumbled, only receiving a furious glare that urged him to continue, “You’re… Triss you’re perfect. I love you more than anything and anyone I’ve ever loved before…”

Tears welled in her eyes as Triss brought them to a standstill, gripping his arms for dear life, “But?”

Eskel couldn’t help tucking her long thin braids behind her ear and caressing her cheek, “But I don’t know why you’re with me. Every time this wedding gets brought up I think about how you deserve someone so much more… whole than I am. Someone who can give you what you want and who doesn’t have a horribly dangerous job and doesn’t look like the Pillsbury doughboy…”

“First off,” Triss started, almost growling as she dragged him off the dance floor and in through the back door to the kitchen, “I thought you were breaking up with me so please lead with what you’re nervous about next time,” Eskel followed, absolutely dumbfounded as he was sat down on a stool like he was in trouble with the principal, “Second, I find your extra weight sexy as hell- no arguments! That is my opinion and it is final . Third- and this one is important- you are the most thoughtful, caring, kind, and gentle person I have ever had the absolute pleasure to share a room with, let alone sleep with. I decided you’re what I wanted a long time ago. No one else has ever told me to take a nap before” she giggled, pausing to hold his face between her hands, “You don’t need to be anything other than you for me to be happy.”

She wiped a tear from his cheek with her knuckles, a fond smile playing on her lips as she drew him in, hugging him tightly so his head rested on her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed like he was scared she might disappear if he didn’t hold her tight enough.

“Thank you,” He whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Triss whispered back, trailing her nails over his scalp and through his soft hair, “Anytime you need a reminder you tell me. Deal?”

Eskel sniffed and pulled himself back together, leaning back to give Triss a quick kiss, “Deal.”