#anyways YES this was meant to be deliberately shady

[hasufin]

Useful

Big Data: We know everything about you. We track where you live, what you buy, who you talk to, what you do for entertainment. We even listen in on your conversations. We will use this to tailor advertisement to you, and if we feel like it we will use this to influence your voting patterns and control your government.

Me: Cool, cool, cool. That's fine, totally fine. So, um, could you give me contact info for this guy I went to school with? I haven't heard from him in years and I was kinda wondering how he's doing.

Big data: Here's a bunch of super shady malware-laden sites which claim to have that info, and for only $24.99/month, non-cancellable, they'll probably not tell you.

Me: But you have that information. And since you supposedly get it from aggregating publicly-available data, there's no legal reason you couldn't tell me. It's all public data which you gathered legally, riiiight?

Big Data: Yes, of course. Definitely. Absolutely no illegal or unethical data mining here, no sirree. It's all completely legal and above board.

Me: And you'd be able and willing to prove that, right?

Big Data: No.

Me: Riiiight. Anyway, you have what I want. You know what I'm after. Some of the results you've shown me indicate very clearly you definitely know exactly what I want and are deliberately not showing it to me. Could I please just have it?

Big Data: No.

Anyway. I was thinking about this actually when I was trying to find a business on Google Maps. There's so much data gathered, and it's very obvious not only that various entities have that data but that they're the authoritative source of that data. And they're using that data for their own purposes, but they are intentionally withholding it in order to force a black market. It's not even simply someone wanting to acquire a huge batch of names and SSNs, it's that right now - in spite of the data not being privileged in any legal sense - the only way to find the phone number of Irene Adler in Craft Mills, Washington I would have to go to a site which is clearly meant to install a bot on my computer. And 20 years ago I could just go to Yahoo People Search and pull that information up.

And, you know, that drives resentment. They've demonstrated these services can exist, and it's not like there's no market. But they're refusing out of what seems like sheer spite. They're not even just refusing, they're actively taking these things away.

[colleybri]

It’s not what it looks like!

Well, ok - it kind of is but it also kind of isn’t.

I didn’t watch Andor when it came out but apparently this scene (link at the end) caused a bit of a stir at the time as the ‘first sex scene in Star Wars’. Hmm. Well, you don’t actually see the sex bit so it’s more accurate to say that it’s a scene where sex is ‘very heavily implied to be about to happen’ as someone put it, a little demurely, on X.

So yes, in that sense - it’s exactly what it looks like. But there’s so much more to it than that, because this scene is absolutely packed with story-telling richness in a way that just can’t be appreciated from seeing it out of context. Which is why I am kind of promising myself that I’m no longer going to try and predict anything about Season 2 based on trailers etc.

The storytelling richness turns a ‘sex scene’ into something so much more, and this explains why it’s here at all - Tony Gilroy seems to be the last person to indulge in ‘fan-service’ of this kind. It’s all about what it’s telling us about these characters and this situation. Two things feed into that - the background information that we’ve gathered so far and what’s actually unfolding in the narrative.

Background: Timm and Bix are co-workers, but she’s his boss. They’ve been dating for an unspecified period of time, but it’s implied to be pretty recent: they have apparently agreed to do something together ‘one night a week’ and Timm earlier suggested ‘starting the week tonight’ with dinner in a way that almost implies that they haven’t gone further than that. More speculatively, this very cautious approach seems to come entirely from Bix and suggests a cautiousness about committing too hard, too soon. Meanwhile, Bix has a secretive working arrangement with Cassian, a man who is one of her oldest friends, a kind of sibling figure and also - crucially - something of a serial ex. Gilroy tells us that she’s ‘done with him’ by this time because he’s ‘burned every last bridge’ even though they’re ‘meant to be together’. Cassian turns up to conduct some kind of business with Bix (and we know it’s about providing stolen parts for her to sell on to contacts such as Luthen) from which Timm is deliberately and pointedly excluded. We don’t know if Timm and Bix have even discussed it, but what we do is that Timm is both jealous and suspicious, noticing that Bix “seems upset…” and that this “always seems to happen whenever you come around”. Add to all that, Cassian seems to have a low opinion of Timm anyway, as revealed by their brief confrontation in Ep1 (‘you need to find yourself a less complicated woman… good luck with that!’ - all adding to the shady-ex vibe). Cassian also has a reputation as a womaniser, with a particular predilection for those already in a relationship (Bix’s quip about his ‘fall’ being on a ‘jealous husband’).

Timm thinks his suspicion is justified as soon as he sees what Bix had been reading

Then there’s the actual plot as it stands at this stage. Cassian, desperate to get enough credits to flee from Ferrix, meets up with Bix in a bar. She’s done him yet another huge favour, and has called Luthen ahead of her usual schedule. By this time, the Pre-Mor bulletin asking for information on a ‘Kenari Human Male’ has been issued and Bix knows Cassian is yet again a wanted man. She doesn’t know when or if she will ever see him again, even if he manages to get safely away. In gratitude, he puts his hand on hers. Timm, drinking hard and spying on them, sees this and jumps to a final conclusion. We will find out in the next episode that Bix had told him Cassian was born on Kenari.

Just after Timm leaves, Bix pushes Cassian’s hand from her own. Perfect ironic timing.

If only he’d stayed in the bar another ten seconds… bad timing, Timm With Two Ms :(

Timm betrays Cassian - and by extension Bix - by calling PreMor. He then goes home, sits in moody silence and broods. Bix apparently continues drinking for a while offscreen and then comes to Timm’s door.

So to the sex scene. The obvious immediate point is that as soon as he sees her Timm must on some level realise his mistake. In his typical love of irony, Gilroy even has Bix say “Is it too late?”… oh boy, yes it certainly is for Timm. And he obviously knows it. He knows the relationship is doomed. The end result of that is that he looks so unenthusiastic at the sight of her that Bix picks up on it immediately and looks hurt and depressed at a perceived rejection. ‘No it’s just … I’m surprised!’ Timm tries to cover. Which is also true, but not in the way he wants her to take it.

The obvious irony is that he’s probably been dreaming about this moment for weeks, maybe months, but it’s all just so … disappointing, because of what he’s just done to betray her trust. As for Bix, she doesn’t want sex for the ‘usual’ reasons. And she’s not particularly enthusiastic about Timm or making any real effort here to make him feel genuinely like he’s the man for her. Her whole attitude smacks of ‘having to make do with the consolation prize’ in combination with ‘looking for comfort’. In other words, Bix seems to be using Timm to ease her depressed mood in a way that’s genuinely unusual in these gender roles.

Yikes. Really not what you want to see when you wake up… your lover fully dressed and staring at you.

So it’s a sex scene that is not particularly sexy, beyond the obvious visual image of Adria Arjona starting to undress. OK, yeah, that’s kind of attractive by default I suppose if she floats your boat, but if you’ve seen her in ‘Hit Man’ you’ll know what she’s capable of when her characters choose to really crank up the sensuality dial. Honestly, there’s absolutely no chemistry between Bix and Timm at all in this scene. Her two conversations thus far with Cassian were about a stolen piece of equipment but there was so much sexual tension and angsty subtext between them I vaguely remember indulging my occasional childish habit of yelling ‘Get a room!’ at the screen the first time I watched them.

In summary, it’s a very unsexy sex scene, where ‘going through the motions’ barely begins to cover it. But the broader point is - there’s absolutely nothing on the screen in this series that is not there for a meaningful story-telling purpose. And I will try and keep that promise not to attempt to glean anything from Season 2 trailers. Yeah, I know - ‘good luck with that’.

[rbbbff]

Realizing i never actually made a post about this - this was my sign for LTWT Atlanta - Feb 7 (which is a couple days after Cliff's bday). Some backstory - I was flying back into town that evening so we HUSTLED to create this sign and then booked it to the venue. Immediately venue security said the sign was too big AND my purse was too big (UGHHH by like .5in) and so they didnt let us in. We had MOMENTS to spare before Louis came on. I was panicking. We ran into the bar next to the venue and the sweet angel bartender allowed me to stash my bag behind the bar where it remained safely til we returned post show, and my friend folded/rolled the sign up and shoved it in her pocket and off we went. F that picky security guy!!

Anyways, since we arrived LITERALLY as he was starting his set, we were hanging out in GA near the left-side bar. The sides and bar areas were totally clear (probably because everyone was smushed into the pit where ppl were fainting!) We are both tall girls (5'10 and 6'1) and there was plenty of space to dance so i actually think he noticed us dancing first, i think these boys have proven by their vocal appreciation (and pointing lol) that they both just truly appreciate when fans just go crazy and dance their faces off. Which we love to do and i truly hate that *livia has given spastic dancers a bad name. just let me be a flailing octopus while i listen to my fave, LIVE, ok?? but I digress.

Anyways after we got some drinks and had some dancing time, and after the show-stoppage drama when it seemed appropriate and clear that everyone was OK and the show started again, I moved a little closer so we could open up the sign. I found a spot at a column holding up the balcony and also right next to a taller-than-me dad. I figured Louis had probably already noticed him in the crowd so it was a good spot to be in, and was out from below the balcony so more visible by the lights etc. and from there I tried to open the sign up when he came to the left side of the stage. I KNOW that even if he didnt see it himself, Michael saw it and Joshua/Charlie got footage of it, because they were angling their cameras towards the left, from the right side of the stage, at points during this time.

Honestly the biggest reason I think Louis did see it was that the next show night at the Ryman he made the comment "it always trips me out to see my dogs in the crowd. Cliff on tour!" which, first of all, YES omg please cliff on tour would be my absolute dream, and second of all, just an incheresting comment to make imo, thats all.

I actually tend to think if he saw it he may have been a little spooked by it in the moment in Atlanta, keep in mind this was still early on in the tour (week 2) so he was just getting his sea legs and was not pointpointpointing gleefully the way he is now, AND the stress of the shows being stopped for pit drama.

But i hope he appreciated the support and understood the shade (see tags). I also DM'd this pic to his ig acct so hopefully he sees it since, lbr, he sees everything. You are welcome for this storytime no one asked for xx

[tamelee]

Do you think sarada was a test tube baby or was her conception just shady? Sasuke and especially Sakura's behaviour make them look so weirdly guilty

There is no answer to that I believe?

I think Kishimoto used Gaiden as a last attempt stab at ‘Boruto’ with more questions than they can answer that they’re now trying to “fix”.. hence the shitload of marketing attempts. 

I think she is the result of “things not always going as planned” during that time skip without Naruto. 

What fueled Sasuke during the time skip anyway? Who wasn't there?

I noticed something else about Sasuke.

Sarada screams the word “papa” idk how many times, but Sasuke has only referred to her as ‘his child’ once at Orochimaru’s hideout. Any other time he includes Chocho and says “the kids.” 

Same with Sakura. He never refers to Sakura or uses her name, (or show concern when she gets taken away by the enemy for that matter.. although neither does Naruto)- however he calls her his “wife”, right? I dunno about you, but I noticed he did this twice.. and ONLY to Orochimaru and ONLY when necessary. Think about that one, because I’m telling you that’s deliberate. Why wouldn’t he use their names around him specifically and why did Kishimoto choose to let Sakura and Sarada spout “papa” and “husband” over and over again while Sasuke avoids it? Food for thought.   

Sarada questions about the relationship between her parents are never answered despite the “happy ending”. (Not fully anyway.)

The story will do everything in its power to raise suspicion and make you believe that Sarada might be one of those ‘Uchiha Shin’ clone children or perhaps a clone related to Sasuke with his genes made by Orochimaru in a ‘this is WAY too obvious, so of course in the end she wouldn’t be’-manner. Which is interesting, because in that so-called “happy ending” too many details are left unsolved.

Whatever you suspect, in the end it was all a misunderstanding.

So.. case closed. We went full circle, all is good. 

Except, I’m still not convinced completely. 

And Kishimoto is very careful in that regard. For example when Naruto talks to Sarada he makes sure to mention Sarada’s connection to “her mother and her father”, but not mention anything about the connection between Sasuke and Sakura. When he starts to console Sarada he speaks very highly of Sasuke, but he never mentioned Sakura.. at all. (Good qualities.)

Then we have Shizune. 

We know there is nothing about Sarada’s birth documented in the hospitals of Konoha. Which is strange, because even if Sarada was born in Orochimaru’s hideout, you’d think Sakura, our great medic ninja, would’ve made sure she would be AT LEAST properly identified/documented in Konoha as Karin for sure has that.. alongside the umbilical cord for some reason. Even worse.. Shizune has no counterargument and looks distraught. Is “you were born outside of the village” such a secret? Is there literally nothing Shizune could’ve said?

Then we have the big question: “what was Sasuke going to say?”

Sakura arrives during the battle with ‘Uchiha Shin’ and Sasuke’s first reaction to that is: “What are you doing here?” To which she apologizes to Sarada “I meant to tell you properly”. 

I think because leaving the village to find her dad because Sakura refused to tell her anything is dangerous and with that I’m guessing Kishimoto refers to some of the questions Sarada launched at Sasuke when she met him: 

“Why won’t you be with mom?”

“Do you think it’s okay to forget the face of your child?” (Why won’t you be with me?/us?)

“Who is the girl with the glasses?” (Karin) 

+ Mom won’t say anything, I don’t believe your relationship, you’re never around and yes, we have a lot of problems.  

But Sasuke says Sakura doesn’t have to apologize, because no matter what “it’s his fault” as if Sarada was some sort of mistake. Sakura staying silent for so long/lying causing Sarada despair, is her fault since Sasuke… wasn’t around lol. So.. I’m thinking, just the fact that Sarada exists at all he believes “is his fault”. He agreed to something (Sakura ever-too-willing) and looks regretful since “no matter how we look at it”, he abandoned the aftermath of that decision up until that point.

But why? He isn’t connected to Sakura directly, because Sarada is in between, “because we have you.. Sarada.”

Since ‘Boruto’ had to happen anyway, why did Kishimoto choose to go this route for Sasuke’s future in Gaiden? He obviously went back to the War Arc.. so.. I did too. 

So.. let’s take a look a Naruto’s reaction: 

This is a “simple memory” of him thinking about Sasuke explaining his hypothesis about these Uchiha Shin clones and how it could connect to the white Zetsu being a byproduct of Madara using Hashirama’s flesh for that statue (to create that army) if I’m not mistaken. Uchiha Shin daddy ended up being Orochimaru’s old experiment. (Interestingly, Sakura brought him up before he did.. in her mind clone = Orochimaru.. also food for thought, but it could be because of Mitsuki, don’t know.) 

But anyway, look at Naruto’s expression. Here he looks at a crying Sarada after she’s been told “this has nothing to do with you” by Sasuke in response to all the questions she shot at him. Which part of this is making him look so sullen?  

Naruto has shown zero concern for Sakura or the “connection” between Sasuke and Sakura throughout Gaiden even when it was implied that Karin is possibly Sarada’s mom. The concern is seeing Sarada being in pain because of it/being lied to. 

.. and left out. 

Because indeed, the mission has nothing to do with Sarada as it is “top-secret”.

“A bright future is always better..

.. don’t you think?”

Am I the only one who’s not feeling that one from Sasuke?

“You stay in the village and protect it, Hokage..” “You deal with the things you have to do. And I’ll do what I have to do. Isn’t this the ‘cooperation’ that you wanted?"

Is it, Naruto? I highly doubt it. (Indicating that something isn't right here + Sakura's eyes.)

If you’d ask Kishimoto if Sarada truly is 100% a human child his answer would be: “Yea, sure :)” 

You will get a straight up answer, enough to get the shippers gloating on socials with “proof”, but it’s as convincing as Sakura saying “..I’m sure our feelings are mutual…” 

Regardless.. why does Sasuke feel like Sarada’s existence is his “fault”? 

If you go back to the War Arc (as Kishimoto did too) Sasuke observes the conversation between Madara and Hashirama who talk about leaving the future to the next generation and “Madara’s dream coming to an end”. Both Naruto and Sasuke were willing to give up their goals for each other. Goals that ARE NOT JUST THEIR OWN. As Sasuke had said, “it’s especially true when it comes to bigger things.” Also meaning that.. even though Naruto said he was going to be a “Ninja in his own way” instead of just becoming Konoha’s “tool”, whatever future he had planned for Kohona.. if he even had one, he was willing to give that up too. 

Think about it. 

For whatever generations after them, whatever “bright future” they had planned, it was never more important than each other. If Naruto wanted a better life for all the children of Konoha and was determined to make that happen, then not even that was more important than Sasuke.

Naruto’s goal to become ‘Hokage’ and wanting the Shinobi’s to work together theory-wise was kind of vague, but he wanted to do it with Sasuke if they were going to be alive anyway.

And these dumbasses who love each other so much were reduced to these miserable looking fellas and I just think Kishimoto took the opportunity to make use of that as much as possible. Mocking the situation as obvious as he could without straight up saying it like only he can. 

“Sasuke and Sakura have a child? Lol, I’ll make the reader as suspicious as possible without actually truly revealing anything.. as always hihi.” 

Bastard.

“And then in ‘Boruto’ they can try and clean up my mess, but the damage is already kind of done, no?” 

I love him.

In the famous words of Uchiha, Madara: 

“Then it might have been impossible from me from the start. I hated having someone follow me from behind.”

But in the end Naruto and Sasuke are equals. Only Naruto can understand Sasuke on an emotional level and vice versa. Only they can balance each other out, everyone else..

Perhaps.. Sasuke saying

"A bright future is always better...

.. don't you think?"

In that almost sarcastic way.. was about Sarada (being a parent/family with Sakura) which only Naruto and Sakura understood and not so much about the mission, because that pause right there? Is not convincing and if Sasuke was truly speaking to better a future for the Shinobi world he would be much more determined.

But no one looks happy even though Sarada has her happy ending so leaving those questions open I think is just deliberate mockery.

[akitohsworld]

Disclaimer: So thank the horny God's I'm back! Don't we all love depressive hiatuses? We do, we do. So I hope y'all like this, I love me some bratty, shady wizard boi. Am I a simp? Yes, yes I am.

Warning: NSFW, smut, humping, teasing, very light humiliation, bunny costume

Bet. (Sub!Solomon X GN!Reader)

"Mnh fuck-", Solomon took in a sharp breath when your thumb rolled over his clothed tip in a circular motion.

Your lips pursed up in a smirk. "What's wrong bunny? Having second thoughts?"

He could be so cute. Although, being a brat just seemed more fun to him most of the time (a pity, really). Not that you minded, breaking him down into obedience was one of your pleasures after all. But moments like these were also nice for a change..

"Nnh hah W-hatever ..you're talking a-hn-bout", Solomon's pants underlined his neediness even more as his hips bucked up against your palm, reacting to your cold lips pressing against his collarbone.

It had been especially cold the past few weeks...

In a few days would be Valentine's day. Then this little bet of yours would be over. And one of you would have to admit defeat and fulfill a random request, or task or it could be whatever really.

"You think I'm not capable of holding off a few weeks?", Solomon had asked rather cockily.

Your hands had stroked through his locks in a loving, contemplating way before saying: "Hmm nope."

And Solomon, being the sneaky wizard he was, came up with a bet. Declaring you to fall into temptation first.

The rules were simple: 'No orgasms until Valentine's day.'

But it was allowed to make the other fall into temptation. In fact, that's probably what made this so entertaining in the first place. It was cute, really. Solomon was so set on making you eat your words that he deliberately tried to seduce you in every way he could.

But then one day, particularly this day, you visited purgatory hall for a proposed study session with Simeon and Luke, only to find Solomon all dressed up in a nice little bunny costume, which, by the way, hugged his waist and features so tightly you decided to ultimately end this game on the spot, and show him how dead wrong he was about your motives.

You indulged him for a while, letting him straddle you at random, taking in the view when the towel just had to slip, savouring the lascivious pictures meant to tease you just enough to come to him. All of which you resisted. After all, you wanted to have fun as much as you could.

He gripped onto the soft cushion of the couch as he leaned back more, pressing his back into it.

A laugh escaped him, turning into a moan. "Y-you must ngh be pretty desperate to... pounce on me like this..."

"Hmm, I don't remember giving you a free pass to be a brat, Sol," you palmed his strained erection, grinding into it decisively, making him groan and tense up even more. Your other hand grabbed his chin, thumb sliding over his swollen bottom lip. He had been biting it to stifle the moans.

You closed in on his face, eyes following his every expression, every movement. He looked so fucked out, almost desperate, as if he wanted to be ravished right now. Hooded eyes rolling back at the skillful movement and pressure your fingers applied to his clothed cock, ragged breaths tinting the air and dishelved locks adorned by contrasting black bunny ears falling into his face. All coming together in a delicious, submissive picture. He was close to give in. You could tell.

Oh how you wanted to devour him.

But no. You'd have him at your mercy first.

You retracted your hand, eliciting a low whine from him, replacing it with your knee instead and spreading his legs apart.

"Wh-"

"My lovely, lovely bunny~," you grinded into him.

"Hah fu- mnh-", his lips parted at yours softly moving against his.

You nibbled at the softness before proceeding to grind into him once again as your tongue slid into his mouth. Gracing his in a soft but firm manner, hands embracing his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

"Mmnh.. hah.."

Solomon bucked his hips against your leg. His cock twitching against your thigh when his hands finally grabbed onto your ass, grinding his aching member against you for more friction.

You smiled for a brief moment, revelling in the feeling of his desperate movements against your body. You had him now.

A moan pressed to your lips, your sex twitched down under but you ignored it.

You were not yet satisfied.

A string of saliva connected you both as you parted, relishing in his dishevelled appearance for a moment.

"(y/N)", he whined.

"What?", you asked breathily, when an innocent smile traced your lips, "Something the matter, bunny?"

"I..mngh", he pressed into your thigh on his own.

"Oh?", you held onto his locks, harshly pulling back, forcing him to meet your eyes, "So you want to hump my leg, is that it?"

He shot you a clouded, cocky grin. "You look very happy about that."

"Do I now?", your fingers traced his neck in a contemplating way and his breath hitched. "A leash would have fit you so well too. But oh well, bunnies don't get leashes," you traced his lips, "They work for their pleasure all on their own."

With that you sat down beside him, leaving him with a puzzled and almost disappointed expression on his face.

He just stared at you, laboured breathing leaving his lips for a moment.

His face lit up as he seemed to grasp the meaning of your words.

"So, you're still going to make me work for it?" He straddled your thigh seductively. "Even though, I'm so readily submitting like a good bunny?" His lips formed a small pout, bunny ears swaying slightly to the side.

It took everything not to laugh at his expression. How childish~.

You grabbed onto his hips.

"Humour me, Solomon."

He murmured something to the effect of 'no fair' and wasted no time pressing his clothed erection against you. The damp spot smeared against your thigh. His brows furrowed when you flexed it to give him more friction, hands guiding his hips for the same purpose.

"Fuck hah (y/N)..," he grabbed onto your shoulders, then neck.

"Hm?"

His cock twitched visibly under the fabric as your finger experimentally flicked against the tip.

"I want to mark you...mnh please (y/N)," he made sure to moan that last one out in an overerotic tone. You just rolled your eyes at him playfully. But complied with him anyway.

After all, he would be losing the bet. So why not indulge him a little bit?

Your head turned slightly while his hands grabbed onto your lower back to rub himself harder against your thigh, moaning into your neck and sucking at the skin.

A pleased sigh escaped you, which seemed to spur him on, pants becoming more and more laboured. His movements becoming more aggressive to speed up, but your hands kept guiding him in a more steady pace to drag it out a bit longer.

"(y/N) please," he begged in a daze as he gazed at you through his lashes.

"Aren't you a needy bunny~", you teased, sucking at his nape and leaving a mark, making him shudder. "Adorable."

"More hah please more," his grip on you tightened around you as he buried his face in your neck, the bunny ears tickling your cheeks.

"Hmm~ Maybe if my bunny begs a little more."

"Hah mnh please, please (y/N) let me cum," his fingers traced under your shirt, caressing the sensitive skin, making you suck in a sharp breath.

Good God, this man was so good at begging.

"Mnh.. who is my cute little bunny?"

"I ammn", you let go of his hips, and grabbed onto his ass instead as you let him rub against your thigh faster, panting growing laboured and moans and groans spilling out of his lips. "I hah..am ahh your cute little bunny-"

Solomon tensed up, clawing at your back and thrusting harder and faster against your thigh, biting back a moan, when you mindlessly rubbed and slapped his ass.

"I- mn want.. need oh-"

You pulled his head back from the crook of your neck, fingers buried in his locks. "Hm?"

"Cum hah I want to cum, please"

You smirked, holding his head in place to see his expression. "Then cum, my bunny."

He thrust hard a few more times, fingers clenching at your shoulders as he spilled loud guttural moans in praise.

"ohH hah nh- (y/N)", his lips parted as he threw his head further back, followed by his body jolting in spurts against you, something wet staining your clothed thigh. "Hah.."

As soon as you let go of his head he collapsed onto you, head resting on your shoulder and hoarse pants leaving his glistening lips.

You lovingly stroked his locks, then kissed his head. "What a good bunny. You did amazing, love."

A low chuckle vibrated through him. "The risk I took was calculated... But man am I bad at math"

You laughed. "Are you talking about the bet?"

Solomon hummed, arms snaking around your waist, readjusting his position as he relaxed against you. "I can only imagine what you'll make me do... ," he breathed out tiredly.

Your lips curled upwards in a mischievous smile. "Well for now I'll devour my cute, shady bunny~,". you pushed him down on his back, gaining a surprised gasp. "Don't tell me you didn't see that coming?"

"Wha-," his face flushed redder in surprise as he looked up at you.

"It would be a waste not to use this opportunity, don't you think?" Your hands found the hem of his clothes. "Now. Where were we...?"

[ieattaperecorders]

“I’m rambling again aren’t I?” and “Is that okay with you?” for the jmart prompt please :)

Cannon compliant, 1.4k, set at the end of S4. Prompt from here.

---

Cash only, no IDs, change directions at least twice. That was what Basira advised, so they were taking a roundabout route - train to bus to train again, a walk to another station, and then a third train to the outskirts of a town near a village near an isolated cabin. Someplace to hide.

Each time they stopped Jon would grab maps and brochures to stuff in his pockets, studying them carefully during quiet moments. Something about being prepared to act as if they were headed to a different destination if anybody asked.

Nobody did ask, and in any case Jon would have probably looked weird and suspicious, throwing in needless details about whatever place they were meant to be visiting. But it was painfully endearing, the way he poured over them, concentrating like he was prepping for an exam. One hand holding the brochure, the other usually clasped over Martin's or pawing at the fabric of his sleeve.

At one point, Jon's hand absently came to rest on Martin's knee. He flinched -- surprised at the unfamiliar contact, at the intimacy. Then he covered Jon's hand with his own, keeping careful around the edge of the wide, angry scar Jude Perry had left.

It had been so long since anyone touched Jon gently. It had been so long since anyone touched Martin at all.

* * *

There'd been a quick, fearful trip to Martin's flat so he could pack a bag. Jon barely let go of him the entire time, as if scared that he might still disappear. (Maybe he was scared. Maybe he was right to be.) He frowned when, after only a few minutes, Martin zipped up a small bag of clothes and toiletries and said that he was ready.

"You . . . may want to look around a bit," he said softly. "See if there's anything else you want to take. We might not be able to come back here."

"Thought the idea was to get in and out quickly. And shouldn't we be traveling light?"

"We can spare another minute. Besides . . . ." he bit his lip. "You might want to keep a few things. Even if they don't seem important. You may end up missing them if you lose this place."

Martin glanced around. The truth was he'd been living sparsely for a while. Bit by bit, he'd boxed up and donated most of his personal things over the last several months. It had just felt right.

(Jon's flat was long gone. He only had the small satchel he'd been carrying, and a plastic bag of thrift store clothes that Basira had gotten for him.)

He ended up grabbing a few books, a notebook he hadn't written in for a while, a couple of cheap pens, and a scarf that he'd always liked. The small carved box his grandfather had given him ages ago went in the bag too -- he'd never found anything to put in it, but he'd kept it all these years and it still smelled pleasantly like cedar.

Despite Jon's insistence they could spare another minute, he spent the entire time Martin packed bouncing restlessly on his heels, his gaze flicking back and forth between the windows.

"God, it's cold in here," he whispered.

". . . Is it?"

"Yes. Colder than outside . . . noticeably so," Jon looked at him sadly. "You can't feel it?"

Martin shook his head. He hadn't noticed.

"Suppose I'm used to it," he said.

Gravely, Jon nodded. He took Martin's hand and squeezed. Martin held back for a moment, then pointed out it was hard to pack with one hand, and Jon awkwardly let go. Another minute and they were done.

As they made for the door, Martin noticed Jon shivering and thought Basira ought to have gotten him a heavier coat.

"Hold on."

He made a detour to the closet, grabbed one of his thicker jackets and held it out. It would swim on Jon, but at least it was something.

"Dunno if it works on supernatural cold spots, but it'll be cold in Scotland too," he explained. "You'll want more than a windbreaker."

Jon stared at him for a moment, then swallowed heavily and nodded. As he put it on, folding the sleeves back so his hands would fit out, Martin noticed him wiping at his eyes.

Was he tearing up? Why? It was only a jacket, one Martin was probably going to lose anyway.

Jon held his hand all the way to the train station.

* * *

They didn't talk about the Lonely on the train. They didn't talk about any of it there, not the Institute, the entities, the attack. It was all too risky if they were overheard.

Instead, Jon talked about the places they weren't going, the things he read about as they went. Describing historical points of interest or natural features, sometimes adding a jarringly morbid fact that Martin was sure he hadn't gotten from the brochures. He suspected part of it was an attempt to engage him, as Martin found himself going long stretches saying next to nothing.

It was nice, though, listening to him chatter on as if they were out on holiday. Sitting there with the landscape going by, the rumble of the train around them and Jon talking about some landmark or another, Martin could pretend they were just out seeing the sights. Traveling on their own time, without a care in the world.

As it got late into the night, he realized the train car they were in was empty. It was the last one that ran, and there hadn't been many on it to begin with, so it wasn't much of a surprise. But with no one else there, they had a chance to speak more freely.

"Jon?" Martin nudged him, interrupting his description of a stone burial site a few miles down the line.

"Hmm?" Jon started, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"It's not that. Was just thinking . . . I know the plan is to keep moving, but we'll have to wait for the morning train anyway. Wouldn't make a difference if we got a cheap hotel room or something tonight, would it?"

"Oh . . . no, I don't think it would," he shuffled through some papers in his lap, peering at the train schedule. "Actually, in that case we may want to take the next stop, rather than going to the end of the line. There's a motel near the station that could be perfect. It's cash only, and the only security camera is over the safe."

"Did you See that?"

"Not deliberately. There's just, ah . . . " he winced, "been a lot of really gruesome murders there."

"Ah. Right." Martin raised an eyebrow. "Are we going to get gruesomely murdered if we stay there?"

"Well it's not a service they provide."

"But we do have murderers after us."

"True . . . and I don't think this place would be much protection if they caught up. But the same could be said about a bench outside the train station," Jon shrugged. "And I don't believe it's supernatural, just a bit shady. Which is probably what we want at the moment."

Martin nodded. Then, with a smirk, asked "does it have a pool?"

"Yes. And so many people have drowned in it."

". . . Hmm."

Jon's deadpan look broke into a smile. "I've no idea if there's a pool. Probably not."

"Pfff," Martin reached an arm out over his shoulders, and Jon leaned into the embrace, smiling. "The Beholding didn't think to list amenities, then? Not even an evil laundry service or, like, a continental breakfast that eats you?"

"Thankfully not."

"Good enough for me, then."

He felt Jon chuckle against him and leaned back, yawning loudly, thinking about how nice it would be to lie down in a bed. Jon shifted a little and sighed, looking at him with a smile.

"I love you," he said. Soft and warm, as if he'd said it a thousand times before. As if it was natural and obvious and easy.

Martin must have gone noticeably tense, or maybe his expression changed, because Jon's eyes widened and he looked down, fidgeting. Worried he'd made a mistake.

"Is that, ah . . . okay with you?" he added weakly.

Almost dizzy with it all, Martin let out a breath that turned into an unsteady laugh. He felt tears pricking at his eyes, and he squeezed Jon tighter.

"Y-yeah," he whispered, "yeah Jon. S'good."

[mello-jello]

Stupidity, bathroom, fish, accident, taken

Okok so this became part 2 of this prompt: Stiletto, gun, flower, gym, ice cream please read that one first lol

Levi and Hange continued seeing each other at the gym at absurd hours. Levi had never been so intrigued by a stranger before. He wanted to learn more about her. He thought about her all the time.

Hange gave no more hints as to what her night time activities consisted of, and Levi didn’t push further. Seeing that gun in her car had freaked him out a little and it reminded him of the time he spent living with Kenny. Levi had been exposed to far worse than a handgun at a young age. So he kept asking for that dinner date.

“Eventually,” or “When I get my next day off”, was her usual answer. They would settle for curbside dates of whatever fast food was around. They held hands and stole quick kisses but Hange could never stay long enough. She did give him her WhatsApp number so they could chat more, but she hardly answered it anyways. Just quick simple messages saying, “hey will you be at the gym tonight?”

“Yes”

“See you then”.

All was relatively fine, until one day Hange stopped coming.

Levi started dawdling around the gym, hoping she would show up. He would go there twice a day, just to see. He checked his messages incessantly. Nothing.

Months passed.

Levi was just on the verge of letting it go when he received a message.

“Dinner tonight?!”

His heart spasmed and he immediately replied, “What happened? Are you okay? Where have you been?”

He clutched at his phone as he anxiously watched the three little dots do the dance that indicated Hange was typing.

The dots stopped.

Levi held his breath and only let it out when the dots started moving again. Finally, she responded with, “126 Sasageyo Blvd. Reservation for two at 7:15pm”

“Tch” he scoffed at his screen.

A moment later, his phone buzzed again.

“Looks like I’ll be getting some time off. Delete this number.”

She can’t be serious? He can’t seriously be considering going? It was infuriating how little this infuriated him. Anyone else and he’d have told them where to shove it. But this was the mysterious Hange, and curiosity got the better of him. A quick Google search told him it was a very fancy restaurant a few kilometers away in the next town over. He would need a suit just to be seated.

Something about this whole situation put him on edge. It had been a while since he had to use it, but Levi thought it best to bring his knife with him. If anything, he just wanted answers.

--

Dressed in his best black suit, Levi entered the restaurant. The host asked him for the reservation name and he froze. He suddenly realized he didn’t even know her last name. Before the interaction became too awkward, Hange waved from the table, beaming at him.

Levi thought she looked very classy. He had only ever seen her in gym clothes. She wore a long, black lace dress with long sleeves that suited her nicely. However, she was wearing an eye covering. He was determined to not let the butterflies in his stomach distract him.

“What happened there?” Levi gestured to her eye as he sat down, not bothering with a formal greeting.

“Oh, I was in a little accident, but it’s no big deal. I have to wear the patch for another week but my eye is expected to make a full recovery!” She states proudly. “Anyways, tell me about Isabel! Last time we talked, she was waiting to hear back about her university application. Did she get in?!” Her energy almost matched what he was accustomed to. Almost.

Levi narrowed his eyes as he studied her. The changes were so subtle that anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed them. She seemed tired. Her lower lip was swollen. She had a thick layer of makeup on, but he could tell she had bruises along her neck and he suspected there were more elsewhere, due to the way she seemed to favour her left side. There was also something in her expression that he had never seen before. Stress, worry.

“What happened to you?” Levi was direct. He wasn’t leaving tonight without an answer.

Hange pursed her lips as she scanned the menu “I think I’ll have the fish, what about you?”

“You owe me an explanation… Or else I’m leaving.” He said flatly. He meant it, even though he really didn’t want to.

Hange lowered the menu and looked up at him through her long lashes. “It won’t happen again. I’m out,”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Listen, Levi… you must suspect by now that I don’t- uh didn’t- have a regular job”

“Tch, no shit”.

Hange chewed her lip and stared while she silently deliberated. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s over. I quit… I want to start over. With you.” She smiled at him and reached across the table to offer her hand.

He took her hand in his, tracing along her knuckles, silently saying he would very much like that. Levi just silently stared down at their hands, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He met her gaze again, but Hange’s countenance fell and for a moment, Levi thought he had hurt her feelings or something. But he noticed her eyes were locked onto something behind him. He started to turn around when Hange suddenly gripped his arm with both hands.

“Excuse yourself to the bathroom.” She instructed, her voice suddenly dark and urgent. Her one eye bore into his with such intensity as if to say, “trust me.”

Levi swallowed hard but did as he was told, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Once he was across the room, he looked over his shoulder back at their table. Hange had stood up to greet the tall blonde man who had approached. To an outsider, their body language displayed that of a close relationship, but Levi could sense the tension.

Levi checked the bathroom stalls for feet and was relieved to be alone. He looked at himself in the mirror. He should just leave. Whatever situation Hange was caught up in, he didn’t need to be involved. He really should just leave. He waited another few minutes, debating with himself. He was indeed interested, perhaps even smitten, but she seemed to be wrapped up in something sinister. He should definitely leave.

He was deciding if he should at least say goodbye when suddenly the doors burst open. Two unknown men rushed him. Levi was quick to draw out his knife and defend himself. He felt his muscle memory kicking in, as if he never stopped needing to fight. He slashed one of their thighs open and knocked out the other with a blow to the head. Stepping over their bodies, Levi calmly readjusted his coat jacket and tie, regaining his composure. He was leaving. He didn’t even look back at the table. He kept his eyes locked forward as he dashed to the exit.

He was almost to his car when he heard the familiar click of a revolver and he knew it was pointed at him. Levi slowly raised his arms and the stranger led him to an alleyway.

A moment later, the tall blonde man rounded the corner and thrusted Hange to the ground. She stumbled but regained her stance quickly. Two more men stood behind them, blocking the only means of escape, their guns trained on the two of them. Hange and Levi both kept their arms up.

“Zeke, he really isn’t a concern for you,” Hange turned to Levi. “Levi, I’m so sorry.”

“Not a concern?” the blonde one who must be Zeke spoke in an eerily calm and quiet way. One of his men handed him a shotgun. “I have a hard time believing that, considering the lengths you went to in order to protect him, dragging him all the way out here, so far from home”.

Levi raised an eyebrow at Hange.

“It was my own stupidity," she admitted. "Us meeting at the same place at weird hours… It was suspicious. But Zeke, he's not involved, I swear!"

Levi was still just as confused when Zeke let out a roaring laugh that raised the hairs on the back of Levi's neck.

"Oh you really don’t know, do you? That’s rich.” Zeke pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “You’ve really been so charmed by this man that you didn’t even realize he’s an Ackerman?" Zeke laughed again. “Hange I thought you were smarter than that”.

Hange’s jaw dropped as she turned to look at Levi in disbelief, "You're… an Ackerman?"

Levi knew his uncle was involved in some shady shit, but this was far worse than he ever imagined. “Yes”.

Zeke’s laughter turned to cackling as Hange closed her eyes in anguish. She let out a shaky breath. When she opened her eyes, Zeke handed her his shotgun, no longer worried about her. Jaw clenched, tears spilling down her cheek, she cocked the gun and pointed it at Levi’s face.

“The Ackermans,” she spat through her teeth, “Have taken everything from me!”

[padawanlost]

why did tru-veld so easily leave anakin ? i never got the ending part really--

Because he was a bad friend and because of bad writing. The biggest issue with the Jedi Quest series in terms writing is Jude Watson’s desperate attempt to make Ferus perfect even if it meant throwing character development down the drain. 

Ultimately, Tru and Anakin’s friendship went sour because:

Anakin had to be ‘dark’ and that means making him somehow responsible for a teenager girl death (a not fully trained teenage girl who was sent to a life-threating mission by her much older, ADULT superiors).

Ferus had to be the bigger person. He had to be wiser and smarter than everyone else by being the only one who figure out Anakin knew about Tru’s lightsaber. He had to expose Anakin and walk out of the Order as the better person. You can see the difference between how Filoni’s dealt with Ahsoka’s departure and how Jude Watson dealt with Ferus. Ahsoka had a very human, conflicted reaction to a terrible thing that happened. She didn’t walk out all high and mighty, passing judgment on those she left behind. Ferus walked out pointing out Anakin’s mistakes and telling the Council he’d still help them if they needed him.

Tru had to go with Ferus to show how Anakin was wrong and because Anakin didn’t have any friends in AOTC. She had to get rid of Tru anyway, so not use the opportunity to show how Vader-like he was even as a kid?

Anyway, imagine you’re like 16 yo and you hear your best friend talking to your worst enemy about NOT wanting to ask you for help, wouldn’t you be hurt by that? the book somehow manages to turn this on Anakin.  Like Anakin being frustrated by his best friend talking to a guy known from bad mounting him even to Obi-wan was somehow ‘evil’ of him. All three of them – Anakin, Ferus and Tru – lied to their masters about the lightsaber but somehow only anakin is judged by the writer for it. Ferus and Tru are presented as righteous at the same time Anakin is made look dangerous and shady.

"I wondered," Tru said. "When we got back here, I wondered if you knew. I saw how you froze in the tomb. 'But not my friend,' I said to myself. 'My friend would not do that.' But then I thought about how you feel about Ferus, how angry you had been. You would want him to get in trouble, even if it meant exposing me." "That's not fair!" "And suddenly I realized — yes, Anakin could have done that." "You're looking at this all wrong," Anakin said. But how could he explain? He couldn't admit that he knew that Tru's lightsaber was broken because he couldn't explain why he'd forgotten to tell him to readjust it. He still didn't know how he'd forgotten something so crucial. Tru would think he'd deliberately forgotten it. There was nothing he could say to convince him otherwise, because he himself didn't know. "I don't think so," Tru said. "I think I'm truly seeing you for the first time." Anakin swallowed. He didn't know what to say. This was an unfamiliar Tru, not the friend of his childhood. "I'll see you outside," Tru said to Ferus, and walked out. [Jude Watson. The Final Showdown]

Let’s take a look at Tru’s reasoning:

He goes into a dangerous mission and his lightasber breaks. Instead of asking Anakin – one of the best mechanics ever – he goes to Ferus.

Tru then refuses to tell his Master because he was afraid it would hurt his advancement in the Jedi Order and he wouldn’t want to be left behind.

During a battle his lightsaber fails resulting in the death of fellow padawan Darra.

Back on Coruscant, Ferus – the one fixed the lightsaber and helped Tru lied – decided to leave the Order. And Tru – the padawan who couldn’t fix his own lightsaber and was caught liying to his master – got off scott free.

But somehow Anakin Skywalker – who only overheard Ferus fixing Tru’s lightsaber and forgot to warn them to check a setting – is the evil villain of the trio. He’s the only who is judged by the characters and the author. He’s the only one judged for lying and keeping secrets.

Tru is a bad friend because he was no evidence of Anakin’s *actively* sabotaging anything. his only ‘crime’ was to eavesdrop on a conversation and forget to tell two of the best padawans the Jedi order had how to fix a f***** lightsaber!

We don’t know what happened immediately after the mission but we do know that the next time Tru and Anakin met, Tru is no longer Anakin’s friend:

He felt a rustle behind him, and saw Tru backing out of the chamber. "Tru!" Anakin called. Reluctantly, Tru edged in a few steps. "Do you know anything?" Tru shook his head. He didn't quite meet Anakin's eyes. "I haven't seen much of you since we've been back," Anakin said. "I know." […] Tru turned and walked out. Anakin started after him. Something was wrong. Something had changed between him and his friend, and he didn't know why.

We also know Ferus went investigating:

"When we got back, I took it to the Jedi Master Tolan Hing," Ferus said, naming the Jedi who was known for his expertise in the workings of a lightsaber. "He told me that that the fusing between the flux aperture and the power cell needed a slight adjustment. Nothing major — Tru might never have noticed it. Except that in battle, the power drained faster than normal."

Considering how much Ferus loved to talk about Anakin behind his back and warn people to beware of him, I can see him taking his suspicions to Tru so by the time they do meet Anakin the friendship is already dying.

They had no idea Anakin knew about the lightsaber but somehow, even before he admitted knowing about it, Tru already was distancing himself from his (alleged) best friend based on…nothing. And that makes him a bad friend.

So in end, their friendship ends because Tru is a bad friend who expected the worst from his friend, a bad Jedi who didn’t practice compassion, understanding and forgiveness and because of bad writing.

Feeling his presence, Tru looked back over his shoulder at Anakin. And then it hit him like a punch that knocked the air from his lungs. Tru would never come around. He'd lost his friend forever. Standing still, he watched Ferus and Tru walk away. [Jude Watson. The Final Showdown]

I hate this moment because it’s such a shady, petty thing to do. It’s like mean-girls expect it’s mean-jedi-boys.

[screaming-skvll]

The Fall of the House of Spider

X. The First Salvo

XI. The Salesman

“I should buy a tank.” Those were the words Mardin uttered upon seeing the tally of the total take from their single day of coordinated disruption of the Spider’s extraction crews. Whatever they were skimming off the top in addition to the agreed-upon 35 percent, Mardin’s acquaintances from several Hunter dens had discreetly delivered account numbers, stash coordinates, and of course crates upon crates of raw glimmer.

They now found themselves in possession of an embarassingly large fortune, so naturally their thoughts turned to outfitting themselves for the next stage of Radiant’s plan. That is why, a few days after busting up the glimmer miners, the Titan and the Hunter stood in the spacious, airy interior of a rusted industrial yard hidden away in a corner of the Cosmodrome, negotiating opposite a three-armed Eliksni with a too-wide grin over the purchase of a number of spider tanks and the services of his lackeys to operate them.

“You know I can’t drive,” Radiant reminded Mardin as they waited for Fiksis, their host, to return from checking his available inventory.

“They’re all gonna be remote operated,” he replied, “though I could probably pilot one. I used to fly an Eliksni galliot, remember?”

“Are you ever going to stop talking about that ship?” Radiant sighed. “And anyway, we both know it was a Reef refit. It’s not like you were using the original controls.”

The Hunter flicked a ragged corner of his cloak, then crossed his arms. “It still had a few original buttons. Some of them were labeled in Eliksni.”

Radiant glared with a short microwave burst, then turned back around as the strange, dreg-sized proprietor of the makeshift tank factory approached. Fiksis the Fixit was said to have once belonged to the House of Wolves, but had been unaffiliated since the Reef Wars. Instead of pursuing what even then many Eliksni quietly considered an impossible and pointless fight, Fiksis sought out opportunities to profit from his sprawling technical knowledge and obsessive love of machines. Naturally he found a welcoming niche in the black markets of the Reef’s underbelly, maintaining, refurbishing, and rebuilding ships, weapon platforms, and all manner of other devices and systems big and small. He even became a much-sought pit mechanic in the shady world of unsanctioned sparrow racing, where he was known as the Gearbox Goblin.

Fiksis’ appearance matched his silly nicknames to an almost comical degree. A bewildering collection of tools and small parts jangled from bandoliers and belts slung all around his small frame, jingling with his every movement. Rumors conflicted about whether he lost one of his upper arms in a mechanical accident or an unfinished docking, but all agreed his refusal to regrow or replace it was meant to express his defiance. His acumen as a tinkerer and repairman certainly hadn’t suffered for the missing hand. Despite his personal wealth and access to resources, Fiksis never increased his ether intake enough to grow even to the stature of a vandal. Again, contrary gossip insisted this was either to more easily crawl about inside machines’ guts, or to present a deliberately misleading impression of helplessness.

Hunched well below eye level, lugubriously bubbling about what a great honor it was to receive illustrious Lightbearer guests, and incessantly offering them tea, Fiksis certainly seemed unthreatening. However, both Radiant and Mardin marked the sharp glint in his bright eyes. They were also well aware he’d forcibly captured the facility in which they stood, quite abruptly evicting the former occupants, stragglers from the House of Salvation. The two Guardians remained wary, despite Fiksis’ humble demeanor and easy welcome.

“Inventory... is good,” Fiksis declared, his vocal synth crackling with the wheezes between words. “Production... goes smooth, yeah? As many walkers as you desire... I am delighted to... proviiide.” His insectoid mouth drew out the last syllable into trailing, quiet chattering. He beamed up at the Guardians with another massive grin full of sharp, uneven teeth. Many appeared to be recently regrown.

“How many do we need?” Radiant asked Mardin, simultaneously pinging him on a subvocal channel: Don’t go overboard.

“Well,” the Hunter began, returning Fiksis a grin of his own, “I believe we should start with, say, a dozen—assuming, of course, you can field enough personnel to operate that many.”

“Oh, yes, as many pilots... as you neeed,” Fiksis rejoined immediately. “What... is dozen?”

“Twelve,” Mardin clarified, ignoring Radiant’s antennae judgmentally angling in his direction.

“Tweeelve, yeah,” Fiksis rasped. “No... problems, ey? Immediate... delivery.” Another broad show of teeth. “Need only... designate wheeere.”

Mardin turned to Radiant. “Well then... Where shall we hit Spider next?”

Radiant paused, glowering, before answering: “Everywhere.”

When Fiksis the Fixit learned his customers intended to use his walker tanks against the Spider, he offered them a discount.

[kryptored]

She’s Shady and Sketchy...(2)

I’m back. I really want to thank everyone for the feedback I received for part 1 of SSaS. The amount of notes I got was phenomenal, I almost couldn't believe it. Really, thank you everyone. 

Now, about part 2 - the typos during the group chat portion are as intended, because it’s not a group chat if no one’s screwing up what they're saying. I know they're supposed to speak French so, the formatting of their words are different, but I'm referencing the use of English in - you all get the point, right? Je ne parle pas français; I’ve only finished the elementary course. I tried to make it look authentic, but we’ll see. Also, a shout-out to @writingishfanonsideblog​ for pointing out the pun (you have no idea how long I was waiting for someone to see that). 

PART 2:...when she goes on and raves

In a room above the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie

Marinette is severely stressed. At the moment, she is reminding herself that she needs a break from everything – being Ladybug and the new Guardian, keeping up with her commissions, helping out at the bakery, being the class representative, etc. Clearly, it was somewhat working as Adrien could see from his position. He watches the girl lying down on his lap as he treads his fingers through her soft, dark hair. Her eyes are closed in content (kind of), the lines on her forehead slowly melting away. He smiles lopsidedly as he notices her cute nose crinkle and wiggle every few seconds, her lips in a pout as her mind continues to spew thoughts and ideas inside her mind. He reaches out a finger to boop her nose and says, “Hey, I can hear you thinking. You’re supposed to relax.”

Marinette opens her eyes, her brows even more furrowed. “And I told you that I can’t help it.” She tries to swat his hand that hovers over her face. Adrien laughs as he avoids her hand, returning to combing through her hair. She closes her eyes again and tries to go back to her halfway-decent relaxed state that Adrien so often made fun of her for. Oh, did she mention they’ve gotten closer?

To her amazement, Adrien had finally understood the extent of what Lila was doing. It was quite awkward at first, what with how Marinette was struggling to keep her composure in front of the same person she had fallen in love with beyond his looks. Adrien, on the other hand, was starting to realize that Marinette is someone so precious to him that he would do anything to help her, even if it meant he had to grow a backbone or two. It was working, thankfully, and had not backlashed on him. He had started to be less lenient with Lila’s inappropriate approach and invasion of his personal space, to which he made sure to mention to his father. For once, he felt that he was his father’s son because the day after his confession, he had found himself free of Lila’s grasp (literally and metaphorically). She was still modeling for the brand, though (to the disappointment of him and the many staff who found her performance lacking).

That did not mean the same for Marinette, though. He may have finally stood up to Lila, but Marinette was taking the brunt of her anger. Just recently, his friend told him how Lila was being more aggressive in her approaches, to the point where most of the class were starting to treat Marinette at arm’s length. They could clearly see that the class was taking sides, and it wasn’t theirs. Alya and Nino had been at the forefront of convincing him to talk sense into Marinette and giving Lila a chance. For some reason, they forgot how uncomfortable and mortified he felt whenever the latter came close to him without his permission. They weren’t that close, let alone friends. They were working the same job, at most. Physical contact was definitely not acceptable when he says so.

THE GOOD KIDS (11)

It’syagirlALYA: Hey, Lila. good to hear you’re doing fine, girl!

DeLila: I just don’t want to worry everyone.

It’syagirlALYA: It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

rose-pink: that’s right, Lila!

DeLila: anyway, about what I said…

            I just really think that marinette needs to be…

           Controlled.

jabberwocky: controlled? She’s not an animal.

sea-monkey: yeah, it kinda sounds…

                     haarhs

                     hars

                     harsh

DeLila: Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. Im just saying she needs to be stopped.

            She needs to know what it feels like to be bullied.

brainf.Art: Hey, I think destroying her sketchbook is too much. I wouldn’t do the         

                 same if another person, especially an artist, was being mean to me. 

Jules: Nath’s right. If Marinette’s gone that bad, we shouldn’t stoop so low.

rose-pink: We’d be the bullies!

jabberwocky: besides, she already knows what it feels like to be bullied.

                      Remember chloé?

DeLila: Oh, Im not saying we bully her. Just, I dunno, give her a warning?

It’syagirlALYA: How bout this, lila: we try to keep you 2 apart as much as

                       possible.

DeLila: But…what if it doesn’t work? Or I just approach her again to really try be      

            friends with her?

It’syagirlALYA: Look, girl – we’ve known Mari for a long time. Well, more so the 

                       others, but yo get the point.

kneeknow: what Alya means is that you let us handle it for oyu.

sunflower: that way, no one fights anyone.

DeLila: Oh, that’s a nice idea.

sun: Yeah, it is.

DeLila: Anyway, I was wondering if one of you could help me with our math 

           homework? I was just os distracted thinking about the charity Ive been

           doing with Prince Ali on Tuesday that I wanst able to concentrate.

Maximus: I believe I can be of assistance.

DeLila: Thanks, Max! do you think you could send me a copy? It’s just, my mom  

            wants me to attend some very important meetings so, I won’t really have 

            much time.

Maximus: Oh. I suppose so, yes.

DeLila: Great!

It’syagirlALYA: Maybe you should take a break now.

sea-monkey: Sleeep.

Jules: Rest.

DeLila: Um, why?

Am I bothering all of you now?

rose-pink: No!

sunflower: it’s just, you said your head was hurting a while ago and we don’t 

                want to make it come back

rose-pink: or wrse!

                 worse.

sun: yeah

DeLila: Oh! Right.

             I’ll see everyone tomorrow, then?

It’syagirlALYA: Sure.

kneeknow: Yeah.

DeLila: Bye, everyone!

jabberwocky: Yup, bye.

sea-monkey: See ya.

brainf.Art: bey.

                  bye.

sunflower: bye!

sun: bye.

Jules: yeah, bye.

rose-pink: bye-bye!

Maximus: Good-bye.

HOLD THE EFF UP (10)

It’syagirlALYA: I just had a realization.

                         Lila kept claiming she’s Ladybug’s bff, but that kinda sounds iffy

kneeknow: what makes you sya that, Als?

It’syagirlALYA: I never relly got a chance to ask LB herself but…

                         why would someone like lila deliberately tell me, the   

                         LABYBLOGGER

                        That she’s Paris’s superheroine’s bff, knowing that Hawkmoth 

                        could easily use her against LB?!

jabberwocky: holy sh*t, youre right!

sea-monkey: I may not be the smartest, but even I know that’s dumb.

rose-pink: which means Lila is inn danger!

Maximus: as seen during Animan hunting you down.

Sea-monkey: MAX!

                        It wasn’t my best moment, okay?

sunflower: and her family!

Jules: she’s not in danger…

brainf.Art: Juleka!

Jules: let me finish: she’s not in danger, she put herself in danger.

sun: does that mean lila’s not really friends with ladybug?

It’syagirlALYA: guess I’ll have to hunt down LB if we want to find out ourselves.

brainf.Art: what if ladybug deflecting about it is just a tactic to protect her?

Jules: I’ll do you one better: why didn’t lila know better than telling other people 

           something tha could be passed on to HM

           No offence, Alya.

It’syagirlALYA: none taken.

kneeknow: Juleka’s right. It’s one thing when LB pretends she doesn’t know 

                    someone for safety reasons. It’s another when you don’t know who 

                    could possibly be listening or watching the interview and they plan 

                    to do with it.

sun: wasn’t there something on the news about someone claiming to be Chat’s 

        girlfriend who ended up being kidnapped by an akuma as bait?

sea-monkey: ooh! I remememember that!

Maximus: She was heavily reprimanded by Ladybug and Chat Noir, not to 

                 mention her parents for endangering herself.

jabberwocky: hey Alya, weren’t there somepoeple who tried to call her out on 

                       the interview?

It’syagirlALYA: who? The girl ivan was talking about?

jabberwocky: No.

                        I mean Lila.

Maximus: Alix is correct. I seem to recall about 27% of your comment section 

                 filled with doubts and proclamations of disbelief.

It’syagirlALYA: I think this calls for another meeting. But this time, for different 

                        reasons.  

Come tomorrow morning, 10 people in class had a wary look in their eyes. Lila had yet to arrive, but asides from them, Chloé and Sabrina were already seated and talking about whatever it was that had them busy yesterday. Along the front rows, Marinette is seen to be chatting excitedly with Adrien. Now that they think about it, they hadn’t realized when exactly those two got comfortable and closer together (particularly Marinette). After all, it wasn’t much of a secret except for Adrien that the girl had a huge crush on the model. Alya and Nino, mostly, were very confused on how they missed the development on the interaction between their best friends. But before any of them could comment on the newly discovered development, the real person who had been running on their minds had finally arrived.

“Hi, everyone! It’s so good to see you all this wonderful morning.” They never really thought much about it, but Lila always did have this overly sweet tone. It was different compared to Rose’s own way of talking. “I’m glad to announce that nothing too bad came off from my head injury, but I want to also let you know that I got…”

Huh. Not that they didn’t care about the well-being of others, but Lila always did have a way of putting a lot of attention on her. But really, for how long and how much she’d told them, it was too hard to ignore that she always did talk about herself.

“…I could also introduce you guys to…”

Introductions. Hm… well, that was one word they were well acquainted with. There wasn’t one a time they hadn’t heard Lila mention someone new and promise introducing them. it wasn’t that they were using her for her ‘connections,’ but she could at least try to avoid making promises she would suddenly forget about.

Their eyes narrow down on her, following her every move while she is none the wiser of the sudden change of how they see her. Things hadn’t been easy after the short meeting among those in attendance. Doubt had been planted among their minds and initially, none of them knew whether to weed it out or to water it with curiosity. Lila, thinking she has their trust still, goes on and raves of the many things she’s supposedly done.

Lila approaches the one person she knows is her greatest ‘fan,’ Alya, and proceeds to shower her with the many tales she had spun that involved name droppings and not-so-subtle self-praise. She goes on, thinking that all is well, but the others are actually more inclined to observe the same person they once believed at the drop of her hat. They are listening to her words carefully, only this time with more awareness.

TAGS:

@animergirlweeb @sturchling @plsltmesleep @theyellowfeverexperience @rudy-ruby @j-a-n-e--d-o-e @queenmj10 @krispydefendorpolice @the-delta-42

Is that everyone?

[lovelyparkers]

hard as nails (1)

hi hi 50k special!! this is gonna be either two or three parts and it's a lot different from what i've written before but i think y'all are gonna like this anyways so... i hope y'all do enjoy this

summary: being a teenage vigilante can be fun, especially when you're on the bad side and spider-man is your nemesis. 2k words

warnings: swearing, reader is a saucy and spicy little villain, peter is a blushing mess sometimes, angst, fight scenes!! violence!

you never expected to get in the way of queens well renowned hero—spider-man. that is until you had to relocate to queens from the bronx. it was...definitely a change from all aspects. your dad moved out with you, wanting a better place to go to school for you, since you had been leaving home very often for...you know, villainous duties. yet you were an extraordinary student, which led to you being enrolled in midtown school of science and technology. as well as having to scope out queens at night and having several run ins with the spider-man.

the worst part, you know you went to school with the masked hero because you frequently saw him entering the roof of the school in his suit. now you, you were way more careful and you worked alone, besides for a woman in her 30's who had taken you under her wing, trained you, and demanded you commit crimes for her and for yourself. she was the base operation and you did everything she asked, even when you moved, she moved. you were like her little goon. you excelled in combat and had unusually incredible strength due to being caught up between some dangerous radioactive weaponry in your sophomore year back in the bronx. you began junior year at midtown in queens, you made some friends, but knew to keep your distance. spider-man had become your main and pretty much only focus since you arrived. you know what they say, keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

you didn't want to hurt or kill spider-man, you just wanted to make his life absolutely miserable. that's how you worked, manipulate and mess with, not murder. you stole pretty much anything you could get your hands on because well, you were broke. you beat people up, robbed stores, manipulated civilians, and threatened people. yeah. your dad could barely afford meals for you both and lived in a very rusty apartment. but hey that's life and you were making it through. well, illegally. you told your dad you got a job at night in queens when you began showing up with money and clothes and food and god knows what else. it was a perfect alibi for a father who really didn't even give a shit.

and this spider-man, oh this lovely beautiful boy, was getting in your way. you were just trying to survive right? that and doing things for this mystery woman. and gosh did you want to find out who was behind the mask. it was obviously a boy your age. every night you tried to find him, meet up with him, talk and find out about him and of course, fight each other. he never hurt you though and you knew he had a soft spot for you. maybe it was your flirty nature.

and now you were on a rooftop at midnight, sitting with your nemesis.

"violet," spider-man called out, "nice to see you again."

your 'villain' name was violet because of the violet mask you bought from party city awhile ago. it was...fitting. and a pretty name that sounded so good coming from his mouth. you may have had a little tiny teeny crush on him. he looked fantastic in that suit and imagined what was underneath. little did you know he did the same about you. black leather pants and a black and violet zip up top matching your mask.

"hey spidey! catch any criminals tonight?" you asked.

"mmm none yet because you're out here."

"awe baby am i distracting you?" you walked over to him, close enough for him to rip off your mask.

"kinda," he replied, masked eyes slanting down.

"well tell me about yourself before you get in my pants. who is spider-man."

"wouldn't you like to know. is violet your real name?"

you scoffed, "do you think i'm dumb?"

"no i just- no."

you took your hand bringing it up to lay on his shoulder and slowly and teasingly dragged it over his abs.

"you're really ripped babe."

"don't babe me, you know i can take you."

"oh so you think you can take me? what about that one time i had you pinned down outside your school."

"how do you know i go to midtown," he asked in a panic.

"i knew it! so you do go there! i've seen you entering through the roof. watch yourself."

he grabbed your hand, locking it with his own. he stared at your signature red nail polish which made his head run wild.

"i've got you now. you watch yourself."

you twisted your wrist and swept a leg under his causing him to fall, but he caught you and brought you down with him. you fell on top of him with a groan.

"damn spidey. getting right into it are we?"

"shut up," he said and rolled over so he now had you pinned down on the roof.

he twisted his head at you, eyes focused on your face and you neatly done hair in two dutch braids. you noticed his distracted state and smirked pushing him over so now you straddled his waist and pinned his arms to the roof. just like before.

"still distracted i see?"

"well i cant help it sometimes. even though i'm supposed to hate you."

"awe spidey. you're so sweet. but you know i'm not gonna let you go."

you leaned down into him to whisper in his ear, "you're too pretty underneath me."

he strained his neck back, melting because of you, "stop," he demanded.

"no," you said jokingly then pressed a kiss on the cheek of his mask. you didn't know it but the boy was blushing underneath. you got up and let him get up to follow you. you walked to the other side of the roof, showing off your hips.

"don't get into any trouble tonight, whatever your name really is."

"sure thing babe."

he jumped off the roof backwards, watching you then swinging away.

—————————

you arrived to school the next day with a little more intuition about the masked hero. his voice was distinct. it was higher than most boys, and you doubted he used a voice changer because it would have that staticky feedback. and you swore you had heard that voice somewhere, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

"hey y/n," peter parker, you chem lab partner said smiling and sitting down next to you.

you hesitated, "hi...peter."

you gave you a confused smile and opened his books.

you think you have your guy. huh. easy as that. you tapped your red nails on the desk.

you scribbled up a note to spider-man and well, peter. after lab and working closer with peter, you realized his demeanour and actions were very similar to spidey, further proving your hypothesis. you followed him to his locker, close behind him, and waited by a water fountain till he left his locker, then slipped the note in.

at the end of the day peter headed to his locker, opening it when a note fell out. he picked it up and looked around the hall. the note read:

hi spidey. i know it's you. and gosh it's about time. meet me on top of the tall apartment complex on grand central parkway tonight at 9. thanks petey xoxo, violet

it was written in purple ink and adorned with a red heart next to your name. oh shit. he was fucked.

when peter got home he was panicking. this villain went to school with him. a literal manipulative villain. and you were his age! he wondered if he knew you. you obviously knew him.

————————

peter showed up to the spot at exactly 9 pm to find you in your suit. upon his impact, you jumped up, running to greet him.

"oh peter! you made it. i'm so glad because i—"

he grabbed both of your wrists tightly and put his face in yours, "how? how did you find out."

you gulped, "you're not a very careful person peter."

he ripped off his mask, there was no point.

"look at me," he demanded and you gladly did. you bit your lip at the sight of his messy brown locks and stern brown eyes. was he always this hot when he was angry?

"you can't tell anyone. and i know that won't stop you, but guess what? every time we hang out and fight and you flirt or whatever, i could easily rip off that mask, what, is it from the dollar store? or—"

"party city," you cut him off.

"stop! listen to me! i could've easily ripped off your mask at any time. but i don't. i never do. you know why? because you're different. your funny and you don't actually hurt me but i have to stop you because you hurt others. and-and you're so cool but you're a villain. and you're really pretty even though i can barely see your face and...yeah. now that i know you go to my school, i know you're someone like me. you're just a troubled kid who got caught up in the wrong crowd. but you're the bad one. and i'm sorry and i like spending time with you but you can't do this to me."

you gulped again, looking down at your feet. you could tell he meant what he said. and like you had always promised, you never wanted to deliberately hurt spider-man. or peter.

"i-i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have—i'm sorry."

"it's okay, just promise me you won't tell."

you reached your hand up to touch his cheek, red nails stroking his skin, "i promise."

"thank you."

"i should go. i'm sorry peter."

you hopped off the roof and he watched you leave. you had to go meet up with your head lady who was named daria. she told you to expose spider-man and get him off your radar, but you made a promise and now you were kinda scared.

"so, did you find him?" daria asked.

you hesitated, "no, not exactly."

she walked over to you and slapped you across the face.

"i'm disappointed in you. you find him or else i cant deal with you anymore."

you just stood there.

"say something!"

"i cant find him," you lied, "it's impossible."

"you're lying. i know you are boyfriend girlfriend with him. it's all over the news. you get him tomorrow night. nothing more."

"yes daria."

you left her shady apartment and headed straight home, done for the night. she genuinely scared you and you were worried she was going to kill you if you didn't turn peter in. but you couldn't do that to him? could you?

the next morning during chem lab you were late. you joined peter at your table. you had a wicked purple and yellow bruise on your face, which peter took notice of. it was from daria.

"y/n oh my god, are you okay?" he asked pointing to your face.

"'m fine," you replied covering the bruise with your hand. peter watched your fingers cover the bruise. your painted, red, fingernails.

[collapsingintojupiter]

Sunshine and Storm Clouds: Chapter 8

Chapter 1  Chapter 1.5  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7

I'm back with another episode! Yay, I guess? I'm not even sure if you guys are still reading this but I like writing it, so I'm gonna keep writing it. 

Anyways…

Characters: Roman, Deceit, Virgil, Logan, (baby!) Patton.

Pairings: Analogical

Warnings: minor death mention, implied past abuse, unsympathetic/villain Deceit. Please let me know if I need to add more.

___

Roman adjusted his backpack strap for the twelfth time in probably the last five minutes, wincing at the way his shoulders throbbed under the weight of the books he’d packed inside. God, why did school have to start up again, of all things? At least Virgil and Logan’s house was closer to the school than his was, rather than further away. Roman remembered when he’d had to walk several miles past his house to get to the previous home he’d babysat at--he had no bike and no money for one, and his mom needed the car--before the couple eventually moved away and he’d been forced to move on to other work. At least he could be grateful for that, he supposed. Less time walking meant more time babysitting and...more money. 

Babysitting Patton wasn’t only about the money though, at least not anymore. Roman realized pretty quickly that he actually loved going to the house with the little boy in blue, and he even looked forward to working for them now when Logan called. And after today? He was especially glad that he got to see Patton after such a stressful first week of school. 

“Hey, you.” Roman stopped humming Someday My Prince Will Come, glancing up as an unfamiliar voice penetrated his thoughts. A man dressed in a strange array of black and yellow was standing on the porch of the house next door to Virgil and Logan’s place, holding a small black snake in his gloved hands. He was smiling, though the left side of his face looked especially odd--were those scales? The man smiled at Roman when he looked up, nodding to him. 

“Yes, you.” He motioned for him to come over. “I haven’t seen you around before--what’s your name, boy? Do you live here?” Roman glanced around, then hesitantly took a step closer to the house. 

“M-my name’s Roman...I live that way…” He pointed down the street. The man smiled again, and there was something almost unsettling about the way he smiled. 

“Vitiligo,” the man said. 

“What?”

“I see you’re staring at my face.” The man looked down as the snake in his hands slithered from one arm to the other, giving it a look that might have been affection before glancing towards Roman again. “I have a skin condition called vitiligo. I figure if people are gonna stare, I might as well give ‘em something to stare at. You like it?”

“Oh,” Roman said. “Uh, yeah, it’s pretty cool.” And it was, a part of him wished that he was as confident in himself as this man was. “Um, what...what should I call you, Mr…”

“Mr. D will do for you.” The man took a step back towards the front door. “Would you like to come inside, Roman? I have tea...coffee...what do you like?”

“Oh, I uh…” Roman glanced over at Virgil and Logan’s house. “I...I have to get going, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be late for work.”

“Ah, I see. Responsibilities.” The man waved his free hand with a sigh. “I never did like those.” Roman found himself grinning a little despite himself, relaxing in the presence of this charming stranger. Adults were never this nice to him; maybe everyone in Virgil and Logan’s neighborhood was just naturally...really cool. 

“Yeah,” he started to say. “My teachers--”

“Roman!” Roman jumped and spun around as a door slammed, his eyes going wide when he saw Virgil marching towards him. Except that he didn’t look like the normal, quiet, perhaps slightly grumpy man he’d gotten used to in the past few months. Instead looked...angry. Really angry. Furious, actually. His fists were clenched, eyes narrowed, body tense like he was about to attack Roman with his bare hands. 

“S-sir?” Roman choked out, stepping back nervously and snapping his wrist up to check his watch. Could he outrun Virgil? “I...I’m on time! I’m coming!” But when he looked at the older man again, he wasn’t glaring at him. His furious gaze was locked on Mr. D, and as he came closer he deliberately placed himself between him and a very nervous Roman. His mind was racing; bubbling with confusion and questions, and what happened next didn’t help at all.

“Oh, well that explains everything.” Mr. D sighed and rolled his eyes, not bothering to take his focus away from the snake in his hand. “Really Virgil, I thought you were over trying to ruin people.”

What? Roman looked between Mr. D and Virgil; Virgil looked like he was about to explode and Mr. D seemed disinterested, almost annoyed. 

“You leave him alone,” Virgil growled finally, not moving from where he stood. 

“I was merely trying to be friendly,” Mr. D answered, glancing over Virgil’s shoulder at Roman. His voice was weirdly calm. “There’s no law that says I can’t express kindness to my neighbors, is there?”

“Drop the goddamn lies, Dee.” Virgil glanced down and Roman backed away another step, half-wondering if he should make a run for it, though the fact that he couldn’t afford to not work that day kept him there. “Roman, come with me.” Virgil suddenly ordered, his voice sharp. He turned and started back towards his house, scattering gravel with every angry step he took. Roman looked at him, half-frozen in place, then at Mr. D. The other man sighed and waved a hand. 

“Don’t get yourself in trouble, Roman,” he said kindly. “I’ll be here should you ever want to visit.”

“Oh...um, okay.” Roman shakily started after Virgil, waving back to him as he left. “Bye, Mr. D.”

“Goodbye, Roman.”

Virgil was standing by the front door when Roman reached the Sanders’ porch, glaring past him at where Mr. D was still standing on the porch with his snake. He smiled at Virgil and winked, then disappeared back into his house. Virgil didn’t move.

“S-sir?” The purple-and-black clad father started, then looked down at him and sighed. 

“Roman, please come inside,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding quiet and tired. Roman frowned, looked back at the house Mr. D had gone into, looked at Virgil, and then hesitantly stepped into the house. Logan was standing in the hallway with Patton in his arms, and the little boy squealed and waved at Roman when he saw him. He found himself smiling a little despite how strange the whole showdown at Mr. D’s house had left him feeling, and he took the little blue-clad boy into his arms as Logan held him out to him. Patton immediately grabbed onto one of his hoodie strings and stuck it in his mouth, and Roman didn't stop him. He looked at Logan, then at Virgil. They were looking at each other, but he couldn’t tell what either of them were thinking by their expressions.

“Uh...V-Virgil?” The purple-and-black one snapped his head down and Roman flinched. 

“I apologize,” he said quickly, “I wasn’t...I’m not going to hurt you, Roman.” He sighed. “But please, for your own good do not go to Mr. D’s house. Do not talk to him, and do not approach him. I...of course I can’t control you...but if you must see him do it on your own time. Keep my son away from him. I’m...I’m sure I can trust you with that.”

Roman’s mind was spinning from the sudden change in Virgil’s demeanor and the odd request, but he soon realized that he was nodding. 

“Of course,” he said, hardly aware that he was the one speaking. “I’ll do as you wish.”

“Thank you.” Virgil looked over at Logan, then down at his watch. “We should get going...we’ll be back around 5, alright Roman?”

“Yes sir.”

“You don’t need to call me sir.”

“...yes, Virgil.”

“As always, we appreciate your services,” Logan stated as he started for the doorway. “Goodbye, Roman.”

“Bye, Mr. Sanders.”

And then they were gone. 

Roman stood there for a long time with Patton in his arms, staring at the door Virgil and Logan had just gone through. 

“What just happened?” he muttered to himself, and he glanced over at where Mr. D’s house stood, out of view behind the wall of Virgil and Logan’s house. “Why does he…?” He shook his head and looked down at Patton. 

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” he asked the little boy. Patton looked up at him, smiled, and reached out a little hand towards his face. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be worrying about that right now. How about...let’s go outside, shall we?” Patton giggled and clapped his hands, which Roman took to be an agreement. He took the little one-year old into the living room and gently set him down on the floor, where he got to work picking up an armload of his toys. Patton grabbed onto his pantleg and Roman shuffled the items to one arm, leaving the other free so that he could lead Sunshine into the yard. 

Patton had gotten a bit better and more confident in his walking over the past few weeks, and hardly stumbled at all as he toddled after Roman into the yard to play. Roman put his toys down in a shady area and Patton plopped down next to him to play with the blocks. Roman carefully set his bunny up next to him just how Patton liked it--the boy refused to go anywhere without his little pink floppy-eared guardian, as Roman had very quickly learned. Bring the bunny, Virgil had told him, and he’d be happy. 

And Sunshine indeed seemed happy. Roman crossed his legs and pulled up a few dandelions, starting a small flower chain. 

“Wanna hear a story, Patton?” he asked absentmindedly. Patton waved one of his blocks in the air and then threw it off to the side. Roman quickly retrieved it, then settled down again. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” He yawned. 

“So, once upon a time in a grand, faraway kingdom, a king had two sons. The older prince was charming, strong, and handsome. He learned quickly how the kingdom should be run and easily made friends with ambassadors and citizens alike. Everyone loved the older prince. 

“But the younger prince, you see, Patton, he was very different from his brother. He was dark, and cruel, and he was always causing trouble and trying to blame it on his brother. He and the older prince fought all the time, mostly because of the younger prince, and the people of the kingdom disliked him very much. ‘That one’s trouble,’ they whispered to each other. ‘He’ll tear down the kingdom.’

“Nobody thought anything would come of it, though; nobody thought that any real harm would be done. That was, until one terrible day when the older prince disappeared without a trace. Rumors spread quickly around the kingdom that the younger prince had killed his brother in order to take the throne for himself, but before these could be confirmed there was another terrible tragedy--the king was dead. 

“Of course, the younger prince quickly seized the throne and became the new king. He’d always wanted power, and he’d always talked about having the throne one day even though he was the younger of the two princes and the throne had rightfully belonged to his brother.

“But though the king had always wanted power, he proved to be a terrible king. Under him, rumors flew and a war started with the neighboring kingdom over a territory dispute. Thousands of soldiers died, and the people began to call for a revolution; a new king.

“And you know what happened, Sunshine?” Roman paused, laughing a little as Patton knocked over his stack of blocks. “New rumors started to pass; rumors of a knight that protected young maidens whose brothers and husbands were off to war. He fought off bandits and thieves with a mask tied over his face so no one knew who he was. People tried to talk to him; they tried to follow him and learn who he was, but they could never catch him. 

“The knight soon came to be called the Prince of the People, and they praised his valiance all across the country.

“But you see, Patton, the king soon heard about the Prince of the People. And the king didn’t like him at all; he accused him or trying to start a rebellion, and sent out orders to have him killed. 

“But his first assassin turned up dead, and a note was sent to the king--chase me, and you will regret it, the note read. The king burned the note. ‘I will not be intimidated!’ he declared. ‘I will find this Prince of the People, and I will kill him with my bare hands!’ 

“And he tried to do just that. He took his own personal guard with him and began roaming through the towns, looking for the Prince of the People so that he could kill him.

"But the knight was very smart, and he evaded the king's guard easily, even going so far as to take the king's own sword from him one night while he slept. He even left another note behind -- 'I warned you,' it read. The king was furious when he saw what had happened, and ordered that his own men be executed for their failure to catch the knight.

"And so their feud began. The king chased the knight all across his country, always just one step behind the Prince of the People, always just unable to catch him in his traps. He forgot about his kingdom and the people he was supposed to rule; putting everything into capturing the knight, never even going to his own palace except to get more supplies.

"And then, one night, he found him. The Prince of the People was sitting in a dark alleyway, injured and barely conscious. He'd been caught outnumbered in a fight with a gang of bandits, and had only barely managed to escape with his life. The king approached him, having finally caught his target at last, and tore the knight's mask away from his face--" 

Roman paused. "Do you know who it was, Patton?" The little boy looked up when his name was called and smiled at him, waving his tiny puppy plushie in the air with one hand. Roman laughed--of course Sunshine didn't understand what he was saying at all; he would never be telling such a story if he did, at least not until Patton was older. Although, he sincerely hoped that he would be better at telling stories by the time Patton was old enough to understand them.

"It was the king's long-lost brother, Patton. You see, he hadn't killed him like the rumors had claimed he had in a fit of jealousy, and when the king demanded that his brother tell him why he had disappeared, his brother explained that he hadn't wanted to rule the kingdom at all. He'd always dreamed of being a soldier and a hero, and the day he disappeared was the day his father had told him he wanted to make him king.

"'I always hated the tradition that said the older son had to be king, and you'd always talked about ruling the kingdom one day. I thought it would be best if I just…disappeared. Then father would have to accept you,' his brother said. 

"The king didn't know what to say at first. 'Then why are you turning my people against me?' he asked angrily. 'They're crying for revolution! They'll kill me!' The older brother didn't answer him for a long time.

"'What if I came back, then?' he said finally. 'What if we ruled the kingdom together?'

"The king remembered how much he and his brother had fought when they were young, how much they had disagreed. He remembered every brawl and every squabble, every insult and every argument.

"And you know what, Patton? He agreed. The king rushed his brother back to the palace where the best doctors in the country took care of him and nursed him back to health. And then he was crowned, and the very first country to be run by two kings was born. The people thought that it wouldn't work at first, that the kingdom would fall under the brothers' hands, but it didn't.

"Rather, the kingdom began to thrive under the brothers' reign. The people were happy. They had what they needed. The nobles were honest and fair. Later, it was said that the kingdom had never known better days than it did under those brothers…" Roman yawned. "The end," he murmured. "What do you think, Patton?" 

Patton squealed and reached for the flower chain Roman had been working on with one hand. He chuckled.

"Yeah, you're right. I could've done better," he agreed. He secured the two ends of the dandelion chain together, then gently placed it on Patton's head.

"There you go," he told the boy. "You're a king now. What do you think?" The crown was a little too big and slipped to the side a bit, but before Patton could pull it off Roman managed to snap a picture of him. 

"You're too cute," he said, shaking his head and standing up. He brushed the grass off his pants and helped Patton clean up, before he collected his toys and lead the little boy back inside to play in there.

---

They were in the living room, and Roman was reading Patton a children's book about a puppy and a kitten that were best friends when the door opened. Roman glanced gown at his watch in surprise--time had apparently passed a lot more quickly than he thought, then up as Logan stepped into the room. Patton looked up as well and stretched his hands out.

"Dada!" He cried, and Roman carefully handed the boy off to his father as he came inside. 

"I see you two enjoyed yourselves," he stated, raising an eyebrow as Patton held up his somewhat-crumpled flower crown for his father to see. "What's this?"

"It's a flower chain," Roman answered, pulling the picture up on his phone and showing it to Logan. He smiled faintly when he saw it--the equivalent of a normal person going wild with happiness, Roman had learned. "Could you send this to me?" He asked. "Virgil would love this."

"I'd love what?" Virgil asked, stepping into the room. Roman showed him the picture and he smiled a little. "He's right. Nicely done, Roman." Roman beamed at them.

"Thanks," he said. "And I'll send it to you, no problem." He glanced down at his watch. "Um, I should probably get going. See you guys later?"

"Thank you for coming by. We'll let you know if we require your services again." Roman nodded and started for the door, but before he could open it he suddenly stopped and turned around.

"Si--ah, Virgil?" The father in purple turned around. "I...um, why do you hate Mr. D? I, uh...he just seemed so nice…" Virgil sighed and looked down; didn't answer him for a long time. Roman was starting to wonder if he should just leave when the older man finally spoke, his voice harsh and angry and sad all at once.

"Because, Roman, he was nice to me once too.”

___

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I’ve got some fun stuff planned that I’m going to try and get up soon and I’m really excited for it. Please message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist, and feel free to send me writing prompts if you want to see something! My inbox is always open if you’d like to talk, writing-related or not.

Taglist:

@antisocialsilvermermaid @just-perhaps @ghostintimelostintime @amintyworld

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Drunk Punch Love 2: Chapter 1

Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)

Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)

Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089466/chapters/54170929

Part 2- Chapter 1: Breathe Again

"Wake up, Shepard!"

As she fell through the haze of darkness and brain fog, she saw flashes of dark space, burning light, and bright blue eyes. When her eyes started to flutter open to a blindingly white lab ceiling and the loud voice sharpened until she could identify it as a woman's. Memories were starting to come back to her, and she was only more confused realizing that the last thing she knew, her lungs were popping and she was dying. On instinct, she clutched her chest, but her lungs were functioning just fine, sucking in normal air.

And based on the heart thudding in her chest, dying wasn't the case anymore.

She didn't really have the time to think about that for long, though. Between the overcom instructions and muscle memory, she basically ran like a bot on command. Anya understood she was in a Cerberus facility, and she got that yes, she did die, but they brought her back, and that this Jacob guy was way too friendly. But past that? She just shot shit and hoped it worked out. Lucky for her, some of her muscles felt even nicer than she remembered.

By the end of it, she was helping out the uncomfortably attractive Miranda person and too-friendly Jacob survive their own base. The weird part, though, was having other people all up in arms about protecting her. Because from what she could gather, the organization pumped billions of credits into her.

If she was ever asked how much weight on her back might finally break her, billions might do it.

Anya still couldn't quite wrap her head around it. Culture and firefights were her wheelhouse. Economics were not. All the numbers and metrics Miranda kept throwing just gave her dark flashbacks to when her mother abandoned her in Alliance accounting to "learn a thing or two" and she just ended up hiding in a closet.

Mostly unrelated, that's how she met her first crush, Ryel. He was also hiding from "learning a thing or two".

Honestly, Anya wasn't even sure her brain knew how to process linear time until they were back at another Cerberus base. Jacob had asked her some questions about her record and memory, but she did that on autopilot.

Hopefully she answered everything right.

When she finally felt like she could count her fingers in a row without getting distracted, she was already being thrown in front of the infamous Illusive Man.

He blabbered on about his investments and creations and all his plans for her, like any manipulative movie villain. Shepard was quick to cut him off. "What stops me from taking the resources you give me and heading straight back to the Alliance?"

Looking a little shocked, he laughed. "I can't help but admire your bluntless, however ill-advised." His fingers twined into each other as he sat on his asshole chair. Anya wished she could kick the hologram over, but she knew what that kind of look meant: a planned answer. "Let's put it this way, Shepard: you're basically walking around with a Cerberus receipt on your back. Go back to the Alliance, too up in their own asses getting defensive instead of offensive, and you'll be grounded until they decide you're not a spy. I'll give you much more flexibility, as long as you take my concessions."

"And what are those?"

"Use my ships, my people, my contacts. Hunt down the Collectors. Pull together dossiers that I suggest and you like. Do whatever you want, just make sure to send reports back to me."

"So I don't have to follow your dumbass orders?"

"Unfortunately, you seem most effective on your own." It was at least a little satisfying that he seemed genuinely annoyed by that fact. Guy might be an asshole, but a pragmatic one. "As much as your ideology and attitude pain me, Shepard, you are the best shot humanity has. Backing you is the only option."

"Understood." Shepard paused, not sure if she wanted to bring up the people that mattered most to her in front of him. But when it came to saving lives, she needed to factor them into the equation. "Any of these dossiers for my old teammates? People I trust?"

"Wrex and Tali are tied up with their people. Kaidan is an Alliance boy, through and through. T'soni is deliberately elusive, and Vakarian has gone dark. But I do have one surprise for you."

Anya's heart had already stopped dead at the thought of Garrus being MIA, but there had to be more to it. He had to be alright. Cerberus was a shady organization with a wealth of information. "Gone dark" couldn't be it. Maybe they had a few clues and, if they passed them along, she could find him. After all this, she couldn't come back to a galaxy without those bright blue eyes in it. Her favorite, dumb turian had to be somewhere and she had to be able to find out where. She opened her mouth and said, "Wait-"

But the Illusive Man gave her a wave and the most irritating smirk she'd ever seen in her life. "We'll talk again soon enough, Shepard." And then he disappeared, leaving the room an empty, black square.

She was ready to shoot his dumb face for cutting her off. While Anya knew that really wasn't an option, she at least kicked her foot at the ground like she kicked his stupid chair out from under him. It was marginally satisfying.

But most of all, she was mad because regardless if Garrus was missing, he was fucking right about the Alliance. She needed to get shit done, not get stuck in bureaucracy. Bastard had her under his thumb. For now.

All her violent thoughts went silent, though, when she walked out to see someone she'd never expect in a Cerberus uniform.

Chronic lean and annoying smile in tow, Joker said, "about time you dragged your ass out of the grave."

Anya didn't mean to, but she pulled him into her arms and hugged him, tight. It was the first time anything in this new reality of hers felt real. He groaned under her grip. Anya released his shoulders, hoping she didn't break anything. After everything, seeing him... It was so refreshing she had to hold on tight. She said, "Sorry! Sorry. How are you...?"

"Cerberus said they were rebuilding you and my baby. And Alliance didn't feel right without you. How the hell could I say no?"

Overall she still wasn't sure how she felt about Joker in a Cerberus uniform, but it didn't matter. Everything about this moment was overwhelming, and after hours of dazed autopilot, it all hit her. She lost two years, lost time with the people she loved, and now she was back and at least Joker was still here. Anya didn't mean to, but her eyes welled up with tears. "It's so good to see you."

"Hell, Shep. Don't think I've ever seen you cry." What he said was a joke, but Joker put a hand on her shoulder.

Regaining composure, on instinct Shepard shrugged his hand off. But the second she did, she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. It felt so wrong to push him away, knowing she'd lost him. And if it wasn't for Cerberus, it would've been forever. "This rebooted body comes with a lot of surprises." In her head, she kept replaying every second here with him, trying to notice any possible differences in his face, voice, demeanor. She couldn't help but notice he seemed a little seriouser, even if his humor didn't show it. But then something he said came back to her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what did you say about your baby?"

He smirked. "Come with me."

Anya followed him down a few halls until they were in front of a huge docking window. She didn't mean to stop breathing, but right in front of her-

"The Normandy. Good as new, eh? With some new Cerberus features. Chairs are nicer, but the crew still isn't mine yet. Having my family there will make it better." Joker leaned on the railing and looked right at her. "Leaving the Alliance wasn't easy, but if it meant having you and my ship? There wasn't any other option." Grumbling, he also added, "Anyway, they grounded me for way too long after the funeral."

His jokes slid right past her consciousness. Instead, Anya was just staring at the ship that changed her life; the one she called home. It was different, but it was hers. That wasn't some easy thing to swallow. Hell, none of this was easy to swallow. "Oh my god. I still can't believe you're Cerberus. What did my mother say about you doing this?"

"You think I have a death wish? No, I delayed that suffering. As far as Oksana knows, I went on a trip and fell off the grid. If I'm lucky, she'll just think I went on a bender."

"Christ. Mama bear's going to kill you."

Joker scoffed and bumped Shepard's shoulder. With so much new tissue in her body, it almost felt alien. But the memories? They made sure Anya knew that she just got some of her family back. He countered, "Me? Talk about yourself, zombie commander."

"Maybe we seek forgiveness once this blows over, not ask permission."

"Sounds good enough to me."

Trying to stay casual, Anya kept all her stunned staring to a minimum. But she did admit to him how important seeing him was, in her own way. She wasn't the best with saying what she should. She just hoped it was enough. "I'm happy to see a familiar face. None of this felt... Real."

"I know, right?" Joker rolled his shoulders, and she wondered who'd been bandaging his shoulders or keeping an eye out for him the past two years. He didn't need it, per se, but it was apart of who she was with him. It made her chest ache, knowing how his routines changed because she got herself killed. Who did he go to when he got drunk? Or was he just alone now?

Joker himself interrupted her thoughts. "These Cerberus guys don't tell me anything. Are we getting any of the old team?"

If her heart wasn't caving in enough about Joker, what the Illusive Man said about Tali, Kaidan, Garrus... It all hit her like a thundering pack of Varren. Anya shook her head at him. "No one. A lot has changed in two years. It looks like it's just you and me this time, spearheading a new crew."

"I haven't seen most of them since the funeral. None of us were the same, after that." She watched his shoulders sag, a weight and responsibility she'd never seen on him. He stood up straight and said, refusing to meet her eyes, "Anya, I'm-"

"Don't." Leaning her head on his shoulder, she added, "I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Sighing, Joker flashed her a smile that didn't seem all that real, but she still appreciated it. "Ready to save the Galaxy again?"

"Nope. But we're going to do it anyway."

"Sounds about right."

///

I so very much my best girl Anya Shepard. I love the strong badass and awkward middle school ballerina wrapped up on one. Time for her to get back to saving the galaxy, friends!

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[acourtofhopeanddreams]

Runaway Bride

Inspired by "Kiss of Deception", the first book in the Remnant Chronicles

Sansa Stark is forced to marry the Targaryen crown prince, but being stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of her life is not how she had envisioned their future. And now Jon Targaryen has to go after her. To protect her. And to get to know the girl who had the courage to do what he wanted to do for years already.

A mix of a royal au, an arranged marriage au, a fairy tale au and it can even be canon divergence I think. 

“Come on, faster!” Sansa Stark yelled at her horse while the early morning wind blew in her face. Her cheeks were almost as red as her hair and her heart was trying to break her ribs in two. Her entire body begged for her to stop, to stand still, to take a break. And her body wasn’t the only one. But Sansa Stark didn’t have time for a break. She didn’t have time to stop. She didn’t have time to stand still. She had to make sure there was as much distance between her and Winterfell as possible before her parents would notice she was gone.

“Do you trust me, Sansa?” Her father had whispered, last night, right before he had pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and sent her to bed.

“Yes.” She had answered, even though she hadn’t meant it.

“I promise you’ll be happy.”

But how could she be happy with a man she had never met? How could she be happy in a castle so far away from her parents, her family? How could she be happy when her hand was given away to form an alliance between the Targaryens and the Starks and not because Sansa had hopelessly fallen in love with a handsome prince? How could she be happy when all her dreams and hopes and wishes were shattered and broken as if they were nothing?

And so instead of wearing the beautiful wedding gown her mother and septa had made her to marry the Targaryen prince, Sansa had run away.

She didn’t know where she was going. It didn’t even matter. Everything was better than being a piece in a game her father had sworn not to play.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Jon raised his eyebrows when he stared at Samwell Tarly, Maester in training and the only friend he actually had.

“Well…” Sam stuttered. He had his hands folded in front of him and stared at the wooden floor beneath his tapping feet. “Ned Stark just informed us that his daughter is nowhere to be found. The…” Sam swallowed. “The fresh snow makes it impossible to know where she has gone, but a horse disappeared from the stables too, so it looks like she deliberately ran away from you.”

“She doesn’t even know me.” Jon let out a deep sigh. “It’s not me she’s running from. It’s this stupid arranged marriage our parents forced us into she’s running from.”

“I'm sure they’ll find her back.” Sam looked up, but Jon stared out of the window, at the freshly fallen snow covering Winterfell.

He was far away from home and far away from his father who had simply ordered him to go here to wed the Stark girl and to bring her with him to Dragonstone afterwards, preferably pregnant.

And not once had he questioned his father’s decision. Not once had he wondered if the girl wanted to marry him. Not once had he thought about her happiness. Nor his own.

But she had. She had simply taken matters into her own hands and had started running.

And even though he should feel betrayed and left right now, he didn’t. He felt admiration for the girl refusing to bow for old rules that made hardly anyone happy. He felt admiration for the girl who chose her own happiness over politics and shady scheming. And he wished he had come up with the idea before she had had to.

Because now he felt the desperate need to go find her and make sure she was safe and okay.

The roads leading her away from Winterfell were empty. It was too early in the morning for travellers, but it was already too light for the robbers who preferred operating in the dark.

Every few seconds Sansa looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t followed. In her mind she could hear the screaming voices of her father’s men chasing her, but every time she checked there was nothing but emptiness and a little more distance between her and the arranged marriage she was trying to flee from.

“What is a pretty girl like you doing on this road all alone?”

Sansa pulled her hood a little further over her head to cover her eyes and red hair when a strange man approached her. He sat on a high horse, holding the reins firmly, but even with his back straight and his chin lifted she noticed that he was smaller than she was. Smaller, maybe, but years older and wiser too.

“It's not safe to travel without an escorte.” The man approached her until their horses stood next to each other. He touched her hood with his fingers and a smile spread across his face when he removed her cover. “Sansa Stark…” He cocked his hand and the tips of his fingers touched her cheek when he pulled his hand back. “Shouldn't you be at your own wedding with the Targaryen prince right now?”

Sansa bent her head and avoided his glance. Yes, she should have been. But she didn’t want to be. “I'm exactly where I want to be.”

“Which is not where your parents want you to be.” The stranger kept on smirking and Sansa felt a shiver rolling down her spine. “You're just as beautiful as your mother.”

“You knew my mother?” Sansa furrowed her eyebrows and tried to relax, but failed hopelessly.

“I didn’t just know her. I loved her. Which is why I will help you to escape a marriage that will make you unhappy.”

“You sure this is where the trail ends?” Jon exchanged a glance with the white wolf circling around and around at the same spot. Jon had to admit that Sansa had gotten further than he had expected. “Fine, I trust you.” He climbed down from his horse and took a deep breath before he walked to the small tavern. “Ghost? Watch my horse for me, will you?”

It wouldn’t be the first time the horse would decide that exploring the world was much more interesting than waiting for his prince to return.

And Jon couldn’t even blame him. There was a reason he was so impressed by Sansa Stark and her determination to outrun a future she didn’t want. He wished he had done the same, years ago already.

“My apologies, sir, but I’m afraid we’re not open yet.” A dark haired girl looked up at him and Jon felt his heart skipping a beat in his chest. Her eyes were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen and even though her face was dirty and covered in sweat he noticed how pretty she was.

Jon scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll come back later then?” He wanted to turn around but the pretty girl reached for his arm and for a moment he stared at her fingers curled around his wrist.

“We don’t have any food yet, but I can get you a beer?” She smiled and Jon couldn’t help but smiling back at her. “I'm Alayne Stone. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She reached out her hand and Jon placed his hand in hers.

“Jon…” He swallowed his true last name at the very last moment. “Snow. Jon Snow.” The palm is his hand was sweating. “And the pleasure is mine.”

Sansa knew that she was actually supposed to sweep floors and prepare the tavern to open, but the handsome stranger who had just walked in was a thousand times more interesting than the cover Petyr Baelish had arranged for her. “So, what do you do for a living?” She sipped from her own beer and watched Jon doing the same.

“Me?” Jon almost choked on his drink and he wiped his mouth while he put his mug down. “I'm a…” He hesitated for a moment.

“You don’t need to be afraid of your job. I’m a tavern maid. I can handle everything.” Sansa smiled and she reached for his hand.

But Jon avoided her glance and bit his bottom lip. “I'm a farmer.”

“A farmer?” Sansa raised her eyebrows. “You don’t sound like one…” She quickly closed her mouth. “I mean…” She sighed. “I don’t know what I mean.” She bent her head and then she realised she was still holding his hand. “Sorry…” She quickly pulled her hand away.

“Don't worry, it’s fine.” Jon smiled and Sansa smiled back at him. “So…” He licked his lips. “How long have you been working here already?”

Sansa felt her cheeks heating up and this time it was her turn to hesitate. “A couple of days, actually.” More like a couple of hours, but that was not something she was going to admit out loud. Not even to a handsome stranger who seemed to stare straight into her soul when he looked at her.

“And?” Jon lifted his chin a little. “Do you like it?”

Sansa shrugged her shoulders. “It’s better than the alternative.”

An unhappy life with a man she hadn’t even met and would never love.

Jon furrowed his eyebrows and once again he let his eyes wander over the pretty black haired girl in front of him. The apron she was wearing seemed slightly too big and just like he didn’t sound like a farmer, she didn’t sound like a tavern girl. And the hand that had touched him so gently had been soft, as if it wasn’t used to hard work like this.

He thought about his horse and Ghost, about how Ghost had circled around here, in front of the tavern. From what he had heard the runaway princess had bright red hair, but changing the color of your hair wasn’t that hard.

And who would look for a princess here, in a tavern, sweeping the floors and covered in dust and ashes?

“My parents never wanted me to become a farmer either.” He swallowed. He knew he should tell her who he was and why he was here. He knew he should tell her that he knew who she was and why she was here. But he didn’t want to be the man who simply dragged her back to her duty. He didn’t want to be the man dragging them both back to their duty.

“What did your parents do?” Sansa, Alayne, cocked her head and Jon curled his lips up into a smile.

“They were nobles. Farming was way beneath them, but…” He realised that the lie came this easy because it was the truth. If he could have, he would have become a farmer, growing his own crops and taking care of a few sheep and cows. “I followed my heart anyway.”

If only he had truly been brave enough to do so. If only he had done what Sansa, Alayne, had done.

Sansa wasn’t sure what made her new life so easy. Maybe sweeping floors and serving unthankful customers wasn’t as bad as she had always imagined it to be. Or maybe it was the company of Jon Snow, who always seemed to brighten her mood whenever she was losing her patience.

During the day he helped her with all her tasks, cleaning the tables and cooking the food. And in the evenings they talked, while they shared the leftovers and stared at the million stars above them until they were almost asleep and had to force themselves to stand up to go and find their beds.

Sansa had a small room in the attic. Spiderwebs covered the ceiling and the planks creaked when she stepped on them, but somehow the warm bed and the echoes of her conversations with Jon were all she needed to have nice and pleasant dreams.

This was why she had run away from home, from an arranged marriage and an unhappily ever after. This was what she had hoped to find in the world.

“Jon?” The cold evening wind blew in her face, but Sansa turned towards the handsome boy with the dark curls next to her. “The last couple of weeks have been the best weeks of my life.” She pressed the palm of her hand to his stubbled cheek. “I wish it could last forever.”

Jon rolled on his side to face her and he locked his glance with hers. “Don’t you think it can?” There was a certain sadness in his eyes and Sansa already felt guilty for destroying the one thing that had made her happy lately.

“No…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Because I haven’t been absolutely honest with you.” A tear escaped her eye. “And I can never be. And I’m sorry about that, because I think you could have been my happily ever after. But how can you truly love me, if I can never tell you who I really am?”

Jon wiped a few loose strands of dark black hair from Sansa’s face and then his lips curled up into a smile. “I already know, Sansa Stark.” He whispered her name and it surprised him how pleasant it felt to let it roll off his tongue. “It took me five minutes to figure it out.”

Sansa pushed herself up and she widened her eyes while she shook her head in disbelief. “You knew? You knew all this time?”

Jon nodded and pushed himself up too. “You're not the only one who lied, though.” Jon moved a little closer towards her. “I'm not a farmer, no matter how badly I wanted to be one.” He swallowed, but didn’t give Sansa the time to interrupt him. “I'm Jon Targaryen, the crown prince of Westeros and the man you were supposed to marry.”

For a moment Sansa just stared at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when she couldn’t find the right words. It was the first time in weeks Jon found Sansa absolutely speechless.

“I'm sorry.” Jon bent his head, but he felt Sansa’s hand grabbing his chin to force him to look up again.

“What are we gonna do now? Are we going back? Get married and become the next king and queen of Westeros?”

“Is that what you want?” Jon swallowed. Their noses brushed each other and he could feel the warmth of Sansa’s breath on his face. “What do you want Sansa Stark?”

“You…” She pressed her soft lips on his and Jon held his breath for a short second before he kissed her back. “I just want you.”

Jon let his hands go through her black hair and he closed his eyes while his lips parted to let her tongue in. “Do you want the prince or the farmer?”

Sansa pulled back and swallowed. “Is the farmer truly an option?” There was a longing in her voice that echoed his own desires, his wishes, his dreams. She voiced the fire that had made her run away, the jealousy he had felt when she had actually done what he had not dared to do for way too long and she most of all captured the simple future they both wanted.

“I think if we really want this, we can do this.”

Once again Sansa left in the early morning on the back of her horse. Once again she was yelling her horse to run faster and faster. But this time she was not leaving alone.

Jon Targaryen, Jon Snow or whatever his name would be once they’d reach the town where they’d start their new future, was riding next to her.

They’d leave everything behind. Their crowns, their castles, the fake identity Petyr Baelish had given her. And yet, they’d have everything they’d ever wanted and needed.

They would be whoever they wanted to be. They would do whatever they wanted to do.

And they would really get their happily ever after.

[niskrp]

:// SEARCHING OPERATIVE …

… searching for AGENT 006 / KING OF SPADES. classified files indicate that they go by KO YURA. born in SEOUL, SK, in 1986/30/01, further investigation makes it clear that they joined the agency FIVE YEARS ago. they are a CLANDESTINE AGENT who specialize in MARKSMANSHIP. higher clearance is needed to access further information…

… ENTER PASSWORD TO ACCESS THE COMPLETE FILE.

:// ACCESSING BACKGROUND FILES …

rumour has it they were happy back in the day.

her father owned a successful business which meant a large home, an array of expensive gifts, not to mention a pristine reputation. they were apparently a family envied by many for being seemingly perfect; hardworking husband, pretty wife, prettier daughter.

but then they crash and burn in spectacular fashion, a glittering empire crumbling in a matter of weeks; a fall said to be inevitable for a multitude of reasons.

from here the details become murky, truth lost among the gossip and rumours. people preferring to offer their own side of the story rather than seeking out the exact details on what went on behind the scenes.

bankruptcy. rival business. gambling addiction. shady connections. plain greed.

their standard of living takes a dive—and so does she, dragged face first into a world absolutely nobody wants to be a part of.

/

sometimes home is a cramped one bedroom apartment on the outskirts of seoul. sometimes home is the living room floor of an acquaintance. sometimes home is the backseat of the family’s car. never pleasant, never comfortable. never hers. somehow they manage: father, mother, and her. a miserable trio scampering from one dilapidated house to another, desperately clinging onto any hope that they’ll make it through another day. which they do, barely. she doesn’t question it. grows accustomed to finding bills hidden beneath old newspapers and waking to the landlord’s demand for rent at 1 am. believes it’s normal to live on three day old rice and whatever else her mother can prepare from a near empty fridge. doesn’t blink an eye when her father announces they have to move somewhere else for the second time that month.

too young to understand the reasons why they’re subjected to this hellish experience. not young enough to realise that she deserves better, they deserve better.

/

poor girl. dirty girl. sad girl. it’s the norm to address yura by anything but her name. not that she minds—or more specifically, not that she has any say in the matter when classmates are adamant on frowning upon her very existence anyway. poking fun at her lowly status and tarnished reputation, like it’s her own damn fault that the world has it out for her at every turn. so she feigns ignorance, redirects her attention to her studies and other activities where her questionable family history isn’t the main topic of conversation. no easy feat when everyone is insistent they know more than she does. bad girl. violent girl. bully girl. she can’t be blamed for snapping when a “joke” crosses the line and hits a nerve. word spreads fast of an incident involving her fist and the jaw of a popular upperclassman, and previous judgemental looks quickly turn into that of disgust, of borderline fear.

as much as yura despises the way her name is dragged through the mud, she begrudgingly admits it isn’t too bad. it’s better, maybe, to be feared than pitied by complete strangers. those who don’t even care.

/

they say she shares a lot of similarities with her father. don’t you see it, they ask. by the way you both smile and laugh, they point out. no way anyone can ignore the fact you’re his daughter, they tell her. but she struggles to see it. only associates him with helplessness and failure, both traits she’s certain they don’t share. perhaps they’d been similar once, at a time when they weren’t burdened by the need to make ends meet. laughter would’ve come freely then, and she might’ve been able to revel in the very details that brought them together as a father and daughter pair. for now they couldn’t be anymore different. him, regularly found in a drunken stupor, mourning his fall from grace with the assistance of cheap soju. her, reading outside a nearby restaurant when the electricity is suddenly cut off at home, trying to avoid following in his footsteps.

her mother tires of their situation and never hesitates to threaten walking out. makes a scene of packing her bags and announcing her imminent departure before quietly returning hours, days later.

normally she refrains from asking why. pretends nothing has changed and goes about her usual routine, except she’s ever curious today. thinks the whole packing and unpacking business is more trouble than it’s worth.

“it’s because i love him.” “that’s sad.” the words roll off her tongue, and a single glance over to her mother is enough for yura to regret opening her mouth in the first place. the answer she receives is only confirmation of that. “yeah.” a long pause. “it really is.”

/

graduation will be it. better life, better pay. money to buy an actual home that’s free of mould, creaky floors, and disgruntled landlords. maybe there’ll be enough to relocate to a high end suburb she’s read so much about and forge a brand-new identity, a sought after fresh beginning. study hard, this will be hers. knows it can be, sees it to be true by the amount of stories she’s heard of people like her. bottom of the rung folks who’ve worked their way up and now lead a life starkly different to what they started with. an escape can be granted if she tries. uses her brain for more than breaking the landlord’s locks (out of necessity, obviously) and wandering the streets with a ragtag group of friends in tow.

alas, normalcy doesn’t bode well for her.

she dreads the daily grind of day-to-day life. climbing up the corporate ladder isn’t as appealing as others make it out to be, nor is abiding by what society insists is in order for a young woman like her: marriage, motherhood, filial piety until death. even now, with nothing to her name, the prospect of settling for stability is amazingly out of the question. if it means sacrificing her own enjoyment for the sake of fitting in and catering to what’s expected of her, she’s happy to go without it. teachers tut over her eventual choice, as if she’s making a massive mistake over signing her name to join the police. maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. either way, she doesn’t think it’s anyone’s business but her own over what she chooses to do with the rest of her life. then again, why should it?

/

safe to say, training brings her to her knees. meaning: she really, really likes it here. potential bad habits are all but crushed beneath the heel of superiors eager to see what she’s worth, what she can do; this gangly thing with a smart mouth and chip on her shoulder. if anything, the reason she provides for joining the force (“the uniforms, i’m a fan”) simply gives them the incentive to run her ragged. which they certainly do, in an almost sadistic fashion, except to their surprise, she manages to flourish—and then some. strict discipline is all she needs and it does well to shape her into a deadly weapon. talents are already there: dogged determination and reckless sort of fearlessness. they just need to polish each and every one of it up until she emerges gleaming, shining; much like the framed college degree on her wall.

an uncanny knack to remain cool under pressure becomes the draw card for many. throw her into the most difficult of situations and she’ll pull through. slightly battered, a little bruised. but most importantly: alive. it’s commonly assumed that she simply thrives in chaotic environments such as these. the type who isn’t distracted by irrelevant details and can be solely focused on the task at hand. capable of adhering to instructions while simultaneously preparing a plan b for when things don’t quite click.

kinda stubborn, kinda risky. all round lethal.

she supposes she only has her tumultuous home life to thank for getting this far.

/

he’s impressed.

“i think you should apply though.”

“is this your way of getting rid of me, sunbaenim? i’m hurt.”

it used to be perceived as an ominous sign whenever the superintendent bursts out laughing, though she’s long come to see it as a reassurance of sorts. that, she hasn’t completely fucked up in his presence and her body won’t be thrown into the han river at dusk for ruining his usual foul mood.

a very, very good sign indeed.

”you know what i mean. you’d do well elsewhere, with them.”

“guess i’ll think about it.”

“is that a yes?”

“it’s honestly a ‘i have to compare salaries first and get back to you’ kinda yes.”

“yura.”

she grins, decides to cut back on the jokes before he dumps her in the river for real. “i’m kidding, i’ll do it. want to see if their coffee is as good as ours, too.”

god knows what the coffee tastes like at nis. they could be drinking the elixir of life and she’d still be reluctant to relocate, uncertain of what they could possibly offer her when she has everything she needs over here. a steady career, wide social circle, glowing reputation.

can’t say the hesitation is enough to deter her from completing an application out of plain curiosity, though.

/

after much deliberation, the application is sent through without dwelling on what might occur if she’s accepted. doesn’t hold much of a hope she’ll make the cut when there are bound to be others who would be better suited for the role. candidates who are more experienced and fulfil the criteria nis have set out, whereas she may fall short somewhere along the lines.

she prepares for rejection. reality, however, has another thing coming.

training puts her through her paces once again, but she digs deep and holds on in the exact same way she’s been taught to do, learned to do over the years. rides with the punches until she adheres to their lofty expectations, leaving nothing to be desired—besides keeping her smartass comments to herself.

experience is taken into consideration when they ultimately usher her to the role of marksman, and it’d be a lie to say she isn’t somewhat perplexed by their decision. it’s not what she initially had in mind, especially with the position she’s just left behind, but she bites her tongue and accepts the offer anyway.

we need someone like you here though, they explain. someone focused, someone calm, someone with a damn good aim.

can you do this for us?

she can, and she does.

:// ACCESSING PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION …

they deem her bright, diligent, ruthless; a woman in possession of a sharp mind but sharper tongue. such ferocity is hidden beneath a calm and collected demeanour, only resorting to violence in situations where negotiation is no longer on the cards. rumour has it her anger is especially volatile, bloody even, though no one’s been fortunate enough to bear witness to such a scene to be able to confirm.

despite her line of work, yura manages to maintain a happy go lucky approach in regards to delegated tasks and interactions with colleagues. first to crack a joke, first to suggest heading out for a round of drinks, first to distance herself from serious and stressful situations. it’d be far from beneficial to be constantly preoccupied with either past or present missions, and she never fails to emphasise the importance of being able to ‘switch off’ once the job is complete.

many frequently mistaken her laid back nature to be that of pure laziness instead, what with her tendencies to move around at a leisurely pace and taking things in her stride. could be seen as not caring enough, or half heartedly doing whatever necessary before quickly shifting her focus elsewhere—which couldn’t be further from the truth. she’s always watching, always listening, and always willing to defend when the time calls for it.

rest assured that the success of the agency is a main priority, and yura has every intention of ensuring the safety of those involved won’t be jeopardised.

… END OF FILE. CONTACT THE AGENT DIRECTLY FOR MORE.

[redandfranticfeelings]

'tag things making fun of doug' because your personal enjoyment of an abuser's content should supersede the feelings of the people he abused by making them act out rape jokes? the fact that making fun of an abuser upsets you because you like him warrants some serious self-examination on your part. 'you can't make fun of an abuser around me bc i like his content and you can't criticize me bc mental illness' is some wendycorduroy shit. i'm surprised you'd do this given how critical you are of her.

and yes, people are allowed to not like you for still liking the show. ofc people can have problematic interests if they want, but content that has been directly used by its creators to abuse people is a special kind of bad. you’re allowed to like it, but guilt tripping people or implying they’re not allowed to dislike the fact that you still support it is incredibly callous to the people rob, doug, and mike abused. this is not, nor should it be, about your feelings. this is about the victims.             

you know what. upon further consideration, those asks were not kindly phrased. my intention was to emphasize that because the anniversary movies were vessels for abuse (injuries, rape jokes, etc) it was inappropriate to prioritize one’s own feelings over the feelings of the victims or block out criticism, but i phrased them in a way that was not productive and was attacking you. i’m sorry for my wording and for being a dick          

thank you for your follow up apology. i see where youre coming with this but i think there’s a few things that i can point towards me not giving up on the show altogether.

short answer: while i detest the way the company has been run and is executing public relations, and i am uncomfortable watching any video on their channel and have not done such for weeks, and i really want the harmed ex-producers to receive justice, i still believe there is a shred of hope for the show based on what recent producers have said, and that doug can reform himself by owning up to his deliberate ignorance, neglect, and egotism, though he is not the biggest abuser in this situation. i have a lot of emotional history with NC that means i need time before i’m able to drop the show altogether, if i ever can, and i just want to avoid anything that isn’t constructive and just intended to make anybody feel bad for liking the show/movies before this information was widely known.

long answer:

most of the criticism lauded against doug isnt so much being the direct abuser but being complacent and ignorant of people’s health. if i recall correctly, while it was a pretty unnecessary and terrible joke to make in my opinion, he didn’t pick up that the drill scene in TBF made anybody uncomfortable at the time? and in recent years he seems more concerned about what his cast undergoes, and a lot of them have said that he does ask about jokes that might hurt them and make sure they’re comfortable. i believe he apologized for it and acknowledged his naievity in the movie’s commentary but restating that apology would be beneficial now, yeah.

while complacency and ignorance is bad, i think he has been neglectful, not directly abusive. also, idk if you meant this, but your phrasing makes it kinda sound like his projects were intended as a means to abuse people; the abuse happened because of the movies, yeah, but it was because of doug being egotistical and ignorant, not malicious. the content of the movies reflect’s doug’s massive ego but it doesn’t reflect a desire to abuse anybody. if he did the shit that mike michaud or mike ellis did, that would be inexcusable for me and i would have lost hope for him.

if anybody is definitely abusive, it’s the CEO, who i love watching get bashed because he is indeed a sexist verbally abusive asshole who holds the power in the company and is using it for his stupid selfish needs. it’s also been stated that doug is restricted by his contract with the CEO and could just straight up not be able to make videos if he stepped out of turn, so while i wish he would use his walkout power more, he doesn’t have as much power as some people attribute to him. he’s complicit in abuse but i don’t think that’s the same as being abusive? the producers themselves seem to go back and forth about how they feel about him but a recurring theme is that he’s tragically ignorant of abuse, but not on the same level of abusive as michaud, if they call him abusive at all (most just seem to feel betrayed by him).

additionally, almost all creators who have worked with him in the past couple of years, have stated they had generally positive experiences with the network, even the ones who are now leaving. the only thing that seems to remain an issue is the awful, awful PR (that apology sucked, i criticized it myself) and the lack of communication towards anybody not chicago-based. i feel they need to ditch michaud (which probably won’t be easy, since he’s a shady capitalist fuck), formally apologize and maybe provide compensation for past producers who were abused by the higher-ups, and either improve relations or just restrict everything to NC, because at this point that’s the only show that’s going to be left if they don’t get their shit together anyway. but i do think that if they just take the easy solution of apologizing, even though it’s already way too late and they royally fucked themselves over, things can be a little better.

i’m also not against criticizing doug for not speaking out, because the least he could do is apologize at least privately and i’ve even emailed him imploring him to do at least that (i don’t expect a response though lmao). i just get hurt at people attacking the show and movies as being terrible and something no fan should like. a lot of people really attached to the series before this blew up, and for the most part the content of the show doesn’t reflect the behind-the-scenes issues.

i’m spreading relevant information on twitter regarding abuse and producers’ feelings, but so many people (obviously not the producers, but the fans/haters) involved in this are more concerned with just shitting on doug bc they don’t like him and a lot are trying to make him out as worse than he is. i want to spread what the producers say because i trust them, but i’m wary of fans who seem to just be in it for the drama or bc they never liked NC and they wanna spite people who did (yes, those people exist, they mocked me on kiwifarms).

i know this isn’t about me, but i’ve invested a lot of money and time and emotional energy in the show, it’s introduced me to new friends, and it’s been directly and indirectly responsible for some of my highest and lowest points of the past year and a half. my comfort ship has been very helpful in helping my loneliness. it gave me something to look forward to every day. not to pull the autism card, but it’s difficult for me to drop a special interest very easily and i’m jealous of people who can. i need time to grow entirely out of it if i can.

but even still, i haven’t watched a NC episode in weeks, even the new ones, due to my discomfort and shame towards the show and network (only NC thing i watched lately was the hyper q&a, which is on tamara’s channel, and i used it to fall asleep). i unsubscribed, and i really i only care about a few aspects of the show anyway.

if you want to hate me because i can’t immediately remove NC from my heart then fine, but if so, just unfollow me. i don’t want people to not post NC criticism, and i fully endorse spreading relevant information because i care about the victims and i want them to receive justice. i just want hate tagged so i, personally, do not have to be constantly reminded that a show that is/was close to my heart has so many awful things behind it, even if i’m not sure if i still love it anymore. and while i have been a bit guilt-trippy in the past i’ve been confronted on that already and i’m trying not to come across that way, and i’m sorry for having been manipulative at all. i’m paranoid about being abandoned and hated just for having watched this show but unless you’re like, a super close friend of mine, you can unfollow any time you want.