#but when that hand is closed theres a whole world of possibilities held within

[a-sleepy-ginger]

9/3/24

✿❈✿❈✿

Sweet potato and sweet chilli sauce

Annoyed my dog with the invisible thing (I just closed my hand and moved it about, he always thinks there's something there. He is not the smartest.)

Talked with family

[deceitfuldevil]

Truth Serum

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: While working with Tony and Bruce in the lab you accidentally drink some very experimental truth serum, leading to some unwanted confessions with your coworkers.

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing, lots of dialogue, barely proofread, etc.

Word Count: 1.7K

—

You were busy working with Tony and Bruce in the lab and jokingly Tony placed his latest concoction next to your drink but you didn’t realize until it was too late and you drank Bruce’s experimental truth serum.

“Jesus Tony can you turn down that obnoxious music? I’m so sick of that stupid 70s rock music you’re always playing.”

Tony stopped what he was doing are looked over at you in shock.

“L/n, what the hell are you talking about? You told me you loved my music.”

“Well I lied, I lie to you a lot actually.” You looked up eyes blown wide with dear as you covered your mouth after saying that.

“I did NOT mean to say that.”

“Y/n… did you just take a sip of that beaker Tony so stupidly placed right next to your drink?” Bruce asked pinching the small space in between his eyebrows

You looked down as remorse filled your gut, noticing a small dribble of blue liquid slowly falling down the side of the beaker you obviously just took a drink from. Your eyes life to meet Bruce’s as you slowly nodded a small yes.

“Well, no thanks to Tony now we get to find out if my very experimental truth serum actually works.”

“TRUTH SERUM?!” You shouted, the last thing you wanted was for your team to have unrestricted access to your secrets.

“No thanks to me? Are you kidding Banner? This might be the most fun we have with Y/n all year!” Tony said with a cheeky grin

Your groaned and let your head fall onto the desk you were sitting at. “How long will this last?” You asked muffled

“Best case scenario for you? It could wear off within the next 30 minutes. Worst case scenario? You could be highly responsive and overly truthful for the two days.”

Tony broke out with a loud cackle as he got up from his desk and exited the lab “Good luck kid!”

“And theres no antidote?” You pleaded

“Sorry, but we were barely in the trial phases of creating this and we don’t try to make an antidote unless we know for sure that it works.”

“So how the hell am I supposed to deal with this in the meantime?”

“My best advice? Lock yourself away in your quarters for the next day or so to avoid saying anything unsavory to the rest of the team. Because I don’t have a doubt in my mind Tony left to go and tell the whole team about your little predicament.”

But before you could reply Sam, Rhodey, and Bucky all came running into the lab practically running over each other.

“Okay, I’ve wanted wanted to know. How do you feel really about Redwing?” Sam asked pushing Rhodey and Bucky aside.

“I think you should find a girlfriend so you stop obsessing over a high tech piece of metal.” You said with an unholy amount of sass, already sick of this treatment. Bucky burst out laughing but you sent a pissed off glare his way.

“Don’t think you’re safe either beefcake. You’re 106 years old and still can’t take a joke, not to mention that you’re forgetful as fuck. I mean who the hell just forgets that they have a vibrium arm? I’m not even going to get started on that staring problem you have that you think is so intimidating.” You snapped, shutting everyone in the room up. Before leaving you locked eyes with Rhodey.

“Oh hi Ego Machine! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you. I mean who could when you tell that story of how you dropped a tank at the generals feet every single party? I mean, BOOM were you looking to be interesting?”

After shutting every one in that room down you stormed out and locked yourself in your room. You really could tell if you had taken truth serum or just a liquid curse. You never left your room for the rest of the night, not wanting to risk dinner with the team. But you woke up around 5:30 in the morning to. Very strong feeling of hunger, and prayed no one else would be up this early as you snaked down into the kitchen. You walked past Wanda sleeping quietly on the couch as Vision floated peacefully in the corner.

“Creepy motherfucker…” you whispered as you stepped into the kitchen

“What was that you said about my husband?” Wanda said, suddenly on the other side of the counter looking at you with a tilted head. You jumped almost spilling your cereal

“Jesus Christ Wanda! A warning!” You said clutching your head with one hand and the cereal box with the other. But she only looked at you and smiled mischievously

“You can ask anything you want but you’re not allowed to be upset by the answer” you stated plaining, pouring some milk into your bowl.

“Are you talking about the truth serum you took yesterday?” Wanda asked, tilting her head at you.

“Yeah, it might not wear off for another 24 hours. Everyones been dying to find how I ‘really’ feel about them since Tony ran his big mouth and told everyone about this stupid serum I drank.”

“You do remember I can read minds, right? I always know when someone’s telling the truth or lying, I just don’t always call them on it.”

“Right.” You said quietly as you stuffed your face with cereal so you could go back to your quarters as soon as possible.

You sat alone in your room unbothered for the next few hours, until you heard a rock at your door.

“Don’t come in! Go away!” You shouted turning the page of your book assuming whoever was on the other side of your door would kindly fuck off. But as a tall man with a mop of silver hair entered your room you sighed dramatically and threw your book at him, missing spectacularly.

“I could’ve sworn I said to NOT come in.” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the ever so muscular man making his way over to your bed.

“And when’s the last time I took orders from you?” Pietro said with a smile.

“You never take orders from anyone, I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked off the team yet honestly.” You spat, bitter that he wasn’t respecting your wishes to be left alone. A pit of nerves also started to grow in your stomach the closer he came to you knowing how you really felt about him, and that if he asked there’d be nothing stopping you from telling him the truth.

“Ah, you wound me dragâ.” Pietro says as he mockingly clasps his hands over his heart as if you’d shot him. You just rolled your eyes in response.

“The team tells me you’ve become somewhat of a bitch since yesterday, is that true?” He asked, sitting down at the foot of your bed.

“I’m not a bitch, Tony just tricked me into drinking some of Banner’s experimental truth serum. But you already knew that didn’t you? Either way, spoiler alert. The stupid serum works and probably won’t wear off for another 12 hours. Besides, I’m only a bitch to the team members I don’t like.” Your eyes widened realizing what you just admitted to Pietro

“I suppose that’s true, Wanda did tell me you weren’t too bad when she ran into you this morning.” Pietro said scooting up next to you in bed, normally you’d tell him to fuck off before he got too close so he would know how much you loved being in his arms but when he asked

“Is this okay?” As he stretched his arms over your shoulders pulling you into his chest

“Yeah, I love it when you hold me. Or just touch me in general, always makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.” The confession just spilled right out of your mouth, causing you to once again to clasp a hand over your lips to prevent you from saying anything else.

Pietro looked down at you with a shocked eyes but a smug smile, deciding to push his luck he asked “Then why do you always push me away and tell me to fuck off anytime I hug you?”

“Becwagh wi dwomt vhmnf to nmfh…” you said, keeping your hand over your mouth to muffle your answer. Pietro shook his head light at you as he took your hand off your lips and held it, gently caressing your knuckles with his thumb

“What was that darling?” He said as he cobalt blue eyes poured into yours. It’s like he already knew how you felt but just needed to hear you say it to confirm his suspicions. Months of pinning after you, and now here was his chance. He had no other choice but to act on it. You swallowed the last bit of pride and fear held in your chest and said

“Because I don’t want you to know how I really feel about you.” The last of your walls came crashing down as you smiled gently at the handsome man before you, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his faced inched closer to yours.

“And how do you feel about me dragosté?”

“Like you’re the only person in the world I could ever fall in love with.” That was all Pietro needed to push aside his ego hearing how you really felt about him as he leaned down and closed the gap in between the two of you pressing his soft lips to yours. Moving gently with you as his lips slotted perfectly over yours, you breathe in his musky scent as you ran your hand across his chest pulling him closer to you. Sadly it wasn’t long before you both ran out of air and had to pull away

“So how do you feel now?” Pietro asked with a cheeky grin plastered on his lovestruck face

“Like I could kiss your stupid face all day.” You said grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back in for a much more heated kiss.

The rest of your afternoon and week into the evening was spent in Pietros arms sharing soft kisses and fleeting touches. Although admittedly he was sad when the truth serum wore off and he couldn’t ask you any and everything under the sun about how you felt about him.

But you’d end up showing him how you felt in other ways later on ;)

—

A/N

Ahhh here’s my 4th post that will be published while I’m away at camp! Found this little bit in my notes as well and just fleshed it out enough to post! Hope this was enjoyable!

Much Love,

—Skyler

[strawbwrry]

fulfilled - cho seungyoun

word count : 6.3k words

includes : cupid!seungyoun, angst, fluff, lotta love, and a whole lot of character development!

@celestial-lasagna​ hope you enjoy it! - [starlight]

—

The concept of soulmates is a daunting one, the idea of having someone meant for you, somebody perfect for you, somewhere out in the world, is a bit difficult to think about. What happens when Cupid, the man who at the snap of his fingers could pair you up with the love of your life, falls in love himself? Does he give up on her? Or does he risk everything he has just for the possibility to be with her?

—

He snapped his fingers, in just a few moments the pair of women just across the street would begin their journey to a beautiful relation, he watched them walk right into each other, watched as their flushed faces, and fumbling hands struggled to figure out what to do, that was his tenth pairing of the day.

Life was bleak. Even with the exciting task of pairing people with their soulmates whether it be platonic, or romantic, what else was there to it? He himself could never fall in love, he could never tell any one of his friends about his secret, he would never be allowed a family, he could never work. He felt empty.All he does is set people up, walk around town and pair people he knows who fit each other well. With everything he needs being paid off by his superior, there’s nothing left for him to do. He walked around without much purpose, simply putting one foot in front of the other not caring where he ended at the end. As time passed he occasionally paired a few people, used some of the cliches, he could only smile watching each pairing’s small shy smiles and blushing faces as their first meeting occurred, watching a love begin to bloom, and as much as he hated the sense of uselessness he felt being able to do nothing, it did bring him joy watching as each pairing began their slow trek to either romance or friendship. He stared at the couple from a distance, deep within him he felt only a pang of jealousy, “No point in hopeless thinking,” he said to himself, letting his mind wander.

“What if there was a point in hopeless thinking?” He jolted away from the sudden noise beside him, placing his hand over his chest, he turned to look at the woman beside him. He looked her over briefly, beautiful hair, fluttering eyelashes, kind yet mysterious eyes, and a small smile, something deep within him felt wrong, something felt sad, and as much as he hated to do this, he ignored it. “What would the point be then?” He said through a small laugh brought on by the way he had been scared, “It shows you what your not thinking about. If you keep thinking about something you’ll never be able to do, then your ignoring the possibilities of what you could do. If you move past what you can’t do, then you can commence trying to start doing what you can.” He stared into her eyes wondering just what she knew, he felt almost read, like a book left wide open. “I guess you’re right, but how do you move on from pointless thinking and move into thinking with a purpose?” She hummed quietly to herself, fidgeting with her bag a little bit as she tried to think of a proper answer to his question, “You accept it?” She answered with a tone of uncertainty, “You either try and do what you can’t and learn from your mistakes, or accept that whatever you want to be able to do is impossible for you, and try and do or find something else your passionate about...I guess?” He grinned at the woman, “My name is Cho Seungyoun, what’s yours?” She smiled back at him, “I’m [L/N] [Y/N].”

—

“You either try and do what you can’t and learn from your mistakes, or accept that whatever you want to be able to do is impossible for you, and try and do or find something else your passionate about...I guess?” It had been nearly a week and he continued to think about her words over and over again, her voice echoing in his mind.

He paced around his apartment tidying it up, picking up abandoned singular socks, fixing up the pillows resting on his couch, picking up spare papers, placing books back into his bookshelf, then he heard his doorbell ring. Putting down the small laundry bag he’d been carrying around to put his clothes in he walked over to his door and opened it curiously, who’d come around this late at night? As he peered through the crack of his opened door he was shocked to say the least when he saw the women who’s words had been weighing on his mind for nearly a week straight. There [L/N] [Y/N] stood, at his doorstep with a suitcase in hand, and tears streaming down her face, and a scared expression plastered onto he face. “Seungyoun? I’m sorry I’ve been looking for my friend’s apartment and I can’t for the life of my seem to find it, so I decided to ask the owner of the first apartment I saw for help to her apartment, I’m so sorry.” He opened his door fully and invited her in, “Oh no! Don’t worry [Y/N], please come in and have something to eat, you look exhausted from carrying that suitcase.”

—

The room was quiet as he brought in a small plate of snacks for [Y/N], placing it before her, “Are these snacks okay? I wasn’t sure if you’d like them, but I also haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while so I don’t have much.” He stopped briefly feeling awkward before looming at her to ask, “Would you like something to drink?” She smiled picking up some of the snacks laid out on the plate and beginning to eat them as her stomach quietly grumbled, “Can I have water? If it’s not too much of a bother?” He nodded quickly heading back into the kitchen, “Of course not! One glass of water coming right up.” His feet padded against the floor of his kitchen, he continued to think about her words, even as he opened the tap to put water into her cup he could only continue to think about it, he cleared his mind as much as he could and walked back to his table which he sat on the floor across from her, and placed the cup near her, “Thank you!” Her voice chimed as she took a sip and continued to eat. “You’re welcome.” He smiled gently, “If this isn’t too invasive is it okay for me to ask why you’re carrying a suit case with you? And trying to find someone’s apartment at 2 in the morning?” He examined her reaction carefully, watching as her face’s reaction stalled and her smile faltered, it was personal. “I had to get away from someone quickly. I did the first and only thing I could think of and I asked my friend if she’d let me stay with her while I get up off my feet and can find a way to make a stable income. Not to mention find a place to live and make sure I never have to come near the person I’m trying to get away from.” Her eyes landed directly onto his, “The reason I was crying at your doorstep was because I felt as if a man was following me, you can never feel to safe out, especially this late at night.” Seungyoun nodded accordingly, “I will admit I was very shocked to see you at my door step at 2 am, but I’d love to help you find your way to your friends apartment, I’ll walk you there, especially now that you said you felt as if someone was following you.”

“Thank you so much Seungyoun! Once again I’m sorry I dropped in on you but, guess I got lucky huh?” He was taken aback by that statement, “Lucky?” He questioned with a small confused smile. She nodded finishing up the plate of snacks he’d brought her, “I don’t know anything about you besides the fact that your name is Cho Seungyoun, that theres something troubling you, and now, where you live. You let me come into your home, brought me snacks, a glass of water and awkwardly stared at your palms wondering if asking me what was wrong would be too invasive. I could’ve rung some weirdo’s bell, could’ve stumbled right into some kind of danger, but I didn’t. I got lucky.” She paused to finish the stub of water at the bottom of her glass and got up to stretch a bit, “I have her address right here, will you walk me to it?” After a short moment of waiting he instantly stood up and nodded as he began to fiddle with his clothes, he walked over to the desk near his bedroom and picked up his phone and shoved it into his back pocket. “Yeah let’s go.” They walked over to the door way of his house, she sat down on the steps to adjust her shoes, Seungyoun stood near her slipping his feet into his untied converse and beginning to tie his shoelaces quickly, and picked up his keys. She stood up and reached her hand out towards her suitcase only to be stopped by the pale hand belonging to the male besides her, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take it for you.” She shyly nodded along feeling her face become hot, “Thank you.”

They exited the apartment silently, walking side by side as Seungyoun looked at the address scribbled onto the paper, he took a left turn down the sidewalk, he then heard a sharp inhale coming from his right side and turned to see her as she quickly moved her forearm to wipe her tears away from her eyes. He stared at her and she looked at him and smiled sadly through her tears, “I’m sorry, don’t mind me, I guess I just needed to let everything go.” He sighed and let go of the suitcase placing it down on the floor and opened up his arms, “I could give you a hug if you want.” She silently looked up at him, admiring his face illuminated by the moonlight casting its gentle light upon them in the dark street. Without answering she walked into his arms and rested her head against him, gently gripping at the fabric of his thin cotton shirt as she tried her hardest to weep silently. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, gently keeping her close to him as she let it all out, he could feel her tears wetting his shirt but he didn’t care in the slightest. She trembled against him, and as much as he knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he couldn’t help it.

His eyes wandered onto the figure of a male nearby, he felt dread fill his stomach as he realized a truth that he knew would come, they were meant for each-other. He double checked, triple checked even, but he couldn’t deny what he saw, an amazing match. He felt a pair of eyes look at him, he moved his gaze down to the person wrapped in his arms and smiled, watching as their gaze went shy and she looked away. He giggled to himself and lifted his thumbs up to her face and gently wiped her tears, “Are you ready to continue?” She nodded as she shyly pulled herself away from his arms, he picked up her suitcase and again they began to walk. Seungyoun turned his head to look back at the male just across the street working at the convenience store. “I have to,” he thought to himself as he made the choice to pair them up together, his left hand snapping discreetly at his side.

She silently laughed at herself, earning a baffled stare from Seungyoun, “You must think I’m a strange person, showing up at your door crying, coming in to eat snacks and explain my personal problems, then crying into your shirt at nearly 3am while you’re helping me find my friends apartment. I must’ve looked so pathetic showing up at your door.” She continued laughing quietly, “You met me at a truly low time in my life haven’t you?” He continued walking straight knowing exactly where her friends apartment was, it just so happened to be the same building where a few of his friends lived, he let out a breathy laugh, “I guess I did didn’t I? I don’t think your pathetic. I do think that you’ve been holding all your troubles and misfortunes inside as to try and put a strong face on though. Crying isn’t weak nor pathetic, it’s always been my opinion that people who can express their emotions as needed are some of the most respectable people I’ve known. You’re going to be okay [Y/N], trust me when I say that, and if you want me there I’ll stay by your side and help you along the way.” She smiled to herself as she gently adjusted her hair from being in the way of her face, “I’d love to have you there.”

-

“This should be it.” Seungyoun said as he stopped right in front of a door, his right hand still lightly gripping the suitcase he’d been carrying for the entirety of the walk from his place to the apartment complex. It was a mere second before he felt her arms wrap around his neck, “Thank you so much for everything.” He hesitated for a few moment, his arms timidly wrapping themselves around her waist. As her grip around his neck loosened his arms began to fall, letting one hand barely ghosting near the left side of her waist. He felt butterflies in his stomach when she leaned in and placed a small kiss on his cheek, she let go and gave a small smile, “I’d give you my phone number but I don’t currently have a phone.” Though his cheeks now red he laughed at her words, his arm falling down to his side then coming back up to run through his hair he looked at her smiling, “Well if you ever need anything you could come to my place, just, not at 2am.” She giggled in response, he found himself laughing along with her, a silent affection beginning to grow deep inside his heart much to his knowledge that this would only ever end badly. “Well I think it’s time for you to wake up your friend, and for me to head back home.” She nodded, “Thank you for everything Seungyoun.” He smiled sadly as he tried not to think of the sad reality, “It’s no problem. Bye [Y/N]!” He began to walk, his hands shoved into his front pockets as he took steady strides, he looked back to see her waving, “Bye Seungyoun!” He smiled and waved before ruffling his hair and shoving his hand back into his front pocket. He turned back just one last time feeling happy to see her friends door open and [Y/N] hug her friend tightly and enter into her apartment. He felt his smile fade from his lips as he let the moment pass.

—

“Are you going to go through with it?” Seungyoun felt a chill come down his back at the sudden noise coming from besides me, “Of course I’m not going to Myungja, do you think I’m that stupid? The only reason I’m still alive is because of this stupid job if you can even call it that,” he stopped in his tracks and turned his head, a small smile placed onto his lips, though it didn’t convey happiness, “I don’t want to drag [Y/N] into this mess Myungja. If I do end up falling in love with her, then you can just kill me right then and there and replace me just like you did with the last when he fell in love. Leave her out of this.” His smile faded, “You know, I only begged you to come back so I could watch over my mom, now that she’s gone I could care less whether I live or die.” The ghostly figure of the woman behind him sighed angrily, “Shouldn’t you be more appreciative that I even gave you the chance to watch over your mom till she died?” Seungyoun scoffed as he kicked small pebbles resting on the sidewalk, “Please I wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t killed me to begin with.” She inhaled sharply who which Seungyoun laughed, “What didn’t think I’d find out? I’m not dumb I know very well where you’re from and what you’ve done. How youve tortured your descendants and prey on men who remind you of your very own lovers from long ago.”

“Not to mention how you terrified your daughters, left then left to brutally kill your husband and his new girlfriend early in the morning. Sure you made me a cupid because I look just like the man who impregnated you then left, cause you wanted to cause me pain, cause I remind you of the daughter that you think caused all your pain, but get over yourself, you never had a soulmate.“

—

Two months of knowing [Y/N], it had been two months of knowing her, and he knew he was falling in love, each moment, whether she came to simply talk about how their weeks have been, or came to cry on his shoulder about her fear of the future, or even if it was her confiding her deepest secrets in him, he loved every second he spent with her. He deeply enjoyed each fluttering moment, the moments he felt incredibly warm at just her touch, all the time he spent admiring her when she was unaware, the moment he’d catch her staring at him, every single moment. This night she just so happened to comeback drunk, a silly smile plastered onto her face as she stumbled, the grip onto her purse loose, Seungyoun watched her walk excitedly in front of him, he had just returned from a small walk to fulfill his daily cupid tasks only to come back to see [Y/N] heading right for his door, she stopped right in front. She took a deep breath then rung on the door, he came from behind her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder as he slid his key into the keyhole and felt her tense up beneath his hand, “Don’t worry [Y/N], it’s just me.” She reached up to grab his hand placed onto her shoulder to throw his arm across her shoulders, “Can I have something to eat Seungyoun?” He laughed smiling at her odd behavior, “Of course, come on go in [Y/N].”

After removing her shoes and laying her bag by her shoes, she plopped herself onto the floor near the small coffee table placed on the floor, “Ramen please!” Seungyoun laughed, “Your wish is my command.”

—

He giggled softly as her head began to droop after finishing her ramen, “[Y/N] go lay down on the couch and sleep I’ll wash your plate.” Reaching his arms across the table he gently picked up the plate, and stood up, walking towards the sink and set it at the bottom. His right hand got the sponge and his left picked up the soap, and so he began washing the plate, letting the warm water fall, his attention focused purely on the bowl in front of him which is why he was taken aback at the arms that suddenly wrapped around his waist, and the sudden warmth behind him. “[Y/N] go to sleep you’re tired.” She let out a grunt in disagreement, “But you’re warm.” He sighed and finished washing the dish and placing it onto the dish rack, and quickly washed off the chopsticks, once again placing them into the dish rack. He dried his hands off on a small rag beside the sink and turned around to hug [Y/N], gently patting her back as he let his own back press up against the edge of the sink. “I’m tired.” He laughed at her small voice, “Yes, I know. Come on I’ll walk you over to my bed so you can rest. I’ll be in the living room don’t worry.”

—

His eyes wandered over the sight for just a bit smiling at how your hands tightly held onto the bedsheets in your sleep, moving every so often, he gently adjusted the blanket then stood up and left his bedroom, leaving the door open just a smidge. He plopped himself onto the floor and rested his head onto his arms placed upon the coffee table. Letting out a breath he’d been holding in for a while, in a sudden gust of air moving through his living room he inhaled sharply, “What do you want?” The ghost sat besides him laughed, “You’re so rude Seungyounnie.”

“Please never call me that ever again.” She rolled her eyes and paced through the room walking through him, causing chills to go straight up his spine, “You’ve really let the place go haven’t you?” He lifted his head up and turned his face to her, “Get to the point already. You’re stalling and it’s annoying the hell out of me.”

“Feisty aren’t we?” She paused before walking towards him and taking his chin between her thumb and pointer finger, “Have you made a choice yet?” His eyes shifted away from her and he pulled his face away from her grip, “Yes. I have, but you know what?” She grinned evilly, her mouth twisting into a smile that’d strike fear in anyone’s heart, “What?”

“I don’t plan on telling you what my choice is. At the end of the day would it change anything for you to know what my plans are? No matter what my fate is in your hands, so I guess you’ll just have to patiently wait to see what happens.” He gave her a small smile, “Thank you for a second chance at life, for letting me fulfill my final wish, and even giving me the chance to experience love. I’m afraid it’s time for you to go since she’s starting to wake up.” He watched the shocked figure begin to fade away, then gently rested his head onto his arms again. “I guess all I have left is to accept it.”

“Accept what?” He turned his head to meet eyes with [Y/N], now very awake, and very sober, “Don’t worry about it [Y/N]. Does your head hurt?” His eyes stayed trained on her, letting himself have this one last day, letting himself smile happily for one last time. “It hurts a little bit but, it’s fine.” Her head rested on his shoulder and her hand gently grabbed onto his arm, “Seungyoun, could I talk to you about something?” She turned her head up and was shocked to see his face so close to hers but paid it no mind as her eyes bored into his, “What do you want to talk about [Y/N]?”

“There’s this guy I met, his name is Wooseok, and he asked me out on a date and I told him I’d give him a response after I thought it over for a bit. There’s only one thing stopping me from going out on the date, and how do I say this,” She paused her face growing hot from the close distance of their faces, she suddenly turned away, “Its you. Can you tell me what we are? I just— I really like him, but I really like you and I just wanted to talk about it with you.” Seungyoun smiled sadly remembering that late night when he made the difficult decision of pairing her up with the guy working very near them at the convenience store that was placed just across from them. “[Y/N] I love you,” Her face whipped over to stare at him, her eyes filled with confusion, “But, I really think you should go on that date. I think that it’s something you should do.” He lifted his free hand and gently placed it onto her jaw, he rested his forehead on hers and laughed to himself as he tried keeping his tears from falling, “I’ll go on the date, but before I say goodbye to this, to us, can I kiss you just once Seungyoun?” He let his tears fall freely as he nodded, he twisted his face and let her lips fall onto his, just once. He smiled softly into the kiss, feeling a moment of total complete and utter joy having her for just a moment. For just that moment he felt warm, he felt a love he’d never felt before. He pulled apart from her, it was very brief kiss really, but within that short while he let all his feeling go, he let go of his selfish desire to love someone. He knew the first second he met her he’d never be the same, but as he let his tears fall when she moved her head to rest on his chest, he knew one thing. He’d never regret this.

—

He sat on a park bench waiting, his hand busy mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, that is till he heard a footsteps approaching him. It’d been nearly two years since he’d seen [Y/N], he’d been traveling a lot and she’d been busy with work, her home, and her boyfriend. They stayed friends of course, weekly phone calls, and a FaceTime in which he got to meet her boyfriend. He was a very handsome man, brown hair, sparkling brown eyes, pink lips, the man by all means looked perfect. That wasn’t what Seungyoun liked though, he enjoyed the louving look glazed over his eyes when he looked at [Y/N], he didn’t exactly seem the most open, but Seungyoun rested easy at night knowing [Y/N] had someone in her life that loved her. That in of itself was enough for him.

He looked up from his phone to see [Y/N], the same beautiful smile plastered onto her lips just like all the afternoons spent over his coffee table laughing over unimportant things, his heart fluttered. He stood up and went to give her a hug, grinning ear to ear when they pulled apart, “It’s so good to see you Seungyoun!” His wise smile still stuck to his face he giggled,”It’s so great to see you too [Y/N]!”

—

“Waaaah your engagement ring is so pretty, when did he propose [Y/N]? And why didn’t he ask for my approval?” She laughed from across the table, “Well that’s actually why I wanted to meet up with you, I wanted to invite you to our wedding!” Seungyoun smiled happily, his hand barely holding onto her as he examined her ring, “I’d love to attend your wedding [Y/N], when you know send me the date, time, location, and dress code because I’m absolutely going,” he let her hand go and chuckled, “I’ll even buy myself a nice suit to go.” The silence that followed was tense, he was happy, she was happy, yet something lingered in the air, an unknown sense of discomfort.

“I never told him about us, I only told him you’re one of my best friends. You don’t have to be on edge Seungyoun.” He stared into her eyes, “There’s something you’re not telling me, what do you want to ask [Y/N]?” He cursed himself internally, he changed the subject totally ignoring her words, she saw right through him. “You know me too well Seungyoun,” She smiled rather shyly, “I don’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle, and I was wondering if you’d do me the favor of walking me down the aisle the day of my wedding.” She looked up and was met with his shocked face, “Of course you don’t have to do it! I was just wondering since— There’s no one in my family to do the job and I want someone important to me to walk me down the aisle. So I couldn’t think of anyone else besides you to do it.” Seungyoun smiled, his hand once again met hers and held it lightly, he then locked her fingers with his and held her hand firmly, “I’d be honored to have such a job on the day of your wedding. Of course I’ll do it [Y/N]! I was just a little bit shocked you’d want me to do that on your wedding day.” Her hand tightened, gripping back at his hand, “I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”

—

Seungyoun’s hands nervously adjusted his suit, he tightened his tie, and anxiously stuck his hands into his pockets, “Thank you so much for doing this for [Y/N].” His head whipped back to meet with the shorter man’s eyes, he smiled, “It’s an honor to walk her down the aisle Wooseok. Please take care of her. You’ll never find anyone quite like her.” Wooseok smiled shyly, “I’m really lucky to say I’m getting married to her aren’t I?” Seungyoun chuckled softly and moved to stand right in front of Wooseok, they’d become friends in the recent months and truthfully it made Seungyoun happy, gave him peace of mind knowing Wooseok. He placed both his hands on his shoulders and grinned, “Very lucky. Treat her well. Or else.” He lightly shook his shoulders and the both of them laughed as he let go of his shoulders, “Seungyoun! [Y/N] wants to see you!” One of her bridesmaids yelled from the door of where the men were getting ready, he gave Wooseok a parting smile and wink then walked to the door, he walked besides her as they ended up at room where the bride and her bridesmaids were getting ready. As he stepped into the door he instinctively bowed before looking up and seeing [Y/N], his eyes gazed upon the sight of [Y/N] in her gown, he felt his eyes water as soon as he saw her. He walked closer to her being careful of her gown as he went in to give her a hug, he let himself cry a little bit as he felt his heart ache in his chest. “She’s okay.”

“You made the right choice Seungyoun, she’s okay Seungyoun,” he repeated to himself over and over again, trying to drill it into his head that his choice was right, upon feeling [Y/N] begin to shake in his arms he pulled apart to see tears gently brimming at her eyes which he instantly began to gently dab at her eyes, “I’m so in love with her.” She began to laugh, “I don’t know why Seungyoun but I just felt so sad when I hugged you.” He chuckled looking at her affectionately, “Are you ready to get married?” She smiled at him, “I will admit I originally never even intended in getting back into a relationship. I’m here now and even if I was having cold feet earlier, I want to get married to Wooseok, I really do. I will admit though, I wish things between us had gone differently.” She stood up and neared her lips to his cheek and placed a chaste kiss to the area just below his cheekbone, “Nevertheless Seungyoun I’m happy everything played out how it did. Even if nothing happened between us I’m convinced we’re soulmates. Just simply platonic soulmates.” He chuckled shyly feeling a blush come up to his cheeks, and then moved his hands, he took her hands into his and smiled, “You know what [Y/N], maybe your right.”

—

It was starting, the moment was starting, Seungyoun laughed at the nervous expression plastered onto his face, “You look beautiful.” She smiled widely and linked her arm with his and was handed her bouquet, “Seungyoun I love you. Thank you for doing this.” He smiled gently flicking her shoulder with his free hand, “Stop thanking me, I’m honored to be important enough to have such a role at your wedding,” they began to walk, “Its now or never [Y/N].”

He led her outside and the flower girl began to walk, the doors were opened for them and with their arms linked they began their slow walk down to where Wooseok was. As they walked in he smiled proudly at the quiet whispers talking about the bride’s beauty. With each step they took Seungyoun’s heart got heavier. Dread gathered at the base of his throat but as he looked at Wooseok and saw his eyes become shiny as tears built up in his eyes, as his eyes stayed focused on [Y/N], staring at her like the only woman in the world he felt a sense of happiness wash over him. Though painful, as they neared he let the link between their elbows break, he gave her a gentle hug, and turned to Wooseok and whispered quietly, “Cherish her.” He nodded lovingly as his hands took hers after she handed her bouquet over to her maid of honor. “I will.”

Seungyoun sat down on his seat, “She’ll be just fine Seungyoun.”

—

Seungyoun excitedly rushed down the hall, in his hands were two bouquets of flowers and a small balloon entangled around the larger of the two bouquets. He had once again began back on his life of traveling around the world paring people up with the lives of their life at the snap of his fingers, but chose to focus on one type of soulmates, platonic soulmates. He felt anticipation build up in his chest as he pushed open the door of the hospital room his best friend sat in, as he opened the door he was greeted by the sight of an exhausted Wooseok fast asleep on the chair besides the hospital bed, and [Y/N] gently cradling a baby girl in her arms. She grinned up at him, “You came so quick! I thought you were across the world just two days ago?” He chuckled walking closer to her to place his hand on her head to gently mess up her hair, “Well when your best friend tells you they’re going into labor, you get on a plane as soon as you can and make sure you get there to meet your new niece.”

“You’re incredible Seungyoun. Why did you buy two bouquets of flowers?” He gently leaned into closer to the baby, looking at the small baby girl in her arms fondly, “I wanted to be the first man to buy her flowers.” [Y/N] smiled looking at the beautiful flowers now placed besides the other small gifts brought by some of her other friends, “Well I’m happy to announce you’re the first man to buy her flowers.” He chuckled softly as he felt his heart burst when the small baby began to smile at him, “She’s adorable [Y/N].”

“Do you want to hold her?” He nodded, he pulled off his jacket and placed it on the smaller chair in the room afraid the material of his jacket would be to rough, he then neared [Y/N] being careful with the baby’s head. The baby was small, she gently squirmed as she was transferred from one person to another, cradling the baby was an experience Seungyoun never expected to feel. He adjusted his arms ever so slightly and was pleased to see the little girl begin to get sleepy, when he lifted his head to inform her mother he smiled fondly seeing [Y/N] who had just been awake now fast asleep. With both parents fast asleep Seungyoun couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. He moved to sit down on the chair where he’d hung his jacket, he gently rocked the little girl watching as her eyelids closed and soft noises escaped her mouth, “Oh honey the wonderful things I could say about your mother,” he giggled, “It’s Uncle Seungyounnie, I didn’t think I could love anyone more than your mother, but now that I look at you all I want to do is protect you from all the evil of the world. I’ll be the best Uncle I can be. I promise you that honey.”

—

“Angel, hold onto my hand tightly!” The little girl tightened her grip onto her uncle’s hand, “Your mommy and daddy would kill me if you got lost.” She smiled, “Seungyounnie will you win me that monkey?” Seungyoun turned his head to look at the monkey hung up on the game booth stall, “Of course!” The little girl excitedly let go of his hand and ran towards the stall, Seungyoun sat on the stool placed in front of the water squirter then picked up the girl and sat her on his lap, “Angel watch this.” He grinned placing his money down, a teen, two dads, and a little kid joined the game right after, he smiled widely watching what looked like stars twinkle in her eyes as she look at the monkey, “1, 2, 3 DING!” The game had started and Seungyoun had no intention of losing, his eyes focused on the target, smiling widely when the water continuously hit the center point, “DING DING DING!” “Player three! What prize would you like?” Seungyoun grinned happily then watched as the little girl happily pointed towards the monkey, as she took the small monkey into her arms and cuddled it she left forward placing a happy kiss onto his nose, “I love you Seungyounnie!”

He never really had a reason, from the moment he died till the moment he was brought back he’d felt empty. As his eyes gazed upon the little girl who meant so much to him he felt a longing deep in inside his heart fill up with a kind of joy he’d never felt before. His love for the little girl was indescribable, Seungyoun was convinced this little girl would change lives some day, just like she’d came into his and changed his life. He felt fulfilled.

“I love you too my little angel.”

[mimik-u]

Flower Child: Chapter 15 (Daze)

AO3 Link

3:32 AM:

If fault was to be placed, assigned, consecrated, and ordained, then Blue Diamond supposed it was her own fault in the end.

This was nothing new.

How could it possibly be when it was everything familiar? 

It was a cycle studiously recapitulated, and it was a tango long danced, and it was a litany of the damned carved deep into the facets of her memories, buried there and intimately known only to the ghostly choir of her own head.

It all circles back to me, does it not? She had asked on a balcony full of light. She had very nearly collapsed. I’m sorry, Yellow.

For being like this.

For being me.

When Blue pulled her nightgown on that evening and stared at her sleeping pill for a few seconds less than her usual disdain for it entailed, she supposed that she should have estimated right then and there that hope was not enough to save her from the night, and that hope was an imperfect solution, and that while grief was one dangerous entity, hope was still another.

At least she knew grief, the very dimensions of it and what it took from her—piece by piece over so many days, months, and years. 

She couldn’t say the same about hope, the emotion having eluded her for so long.

If grief was wasting, then hope was generous. It gave and it gave, and it swelled like a tentative blossom in her chest, rising up from a ribcaged ground against all the odds of a cruel, forbidding world.

It gave her a false sense of security.

It gave her the strength to swallow one sleeping pill more.

And so, when the dreams came that night, seething over Blue like a restless tide, she hadn’t expected to be taken so far away from the shore, dragged beneath the undertow, and churned and churned and churned.  

She sat on the edge of the hospital bed, leaning over the pale form of Steven Universe who smiled up at her with all of his teeth. Even in the feathery edges of a dream, his dark, brown eyes seemed to be lit from within, candles behind tinted lantern glass, flickering gently.

Sunlight drifted in from the nearest window, falling like a thin, golden blanket across them both.

She dreamed that she was kind, that she reached up and brushed a stray curl from his clammy forehead as various machines hummed all around them. The oxygen cannulas weaving around his ears and into his button nose hissed pneumatically. Wires indicated his aliveness, his hereness and his thereness, in steady, rhythmic beeps.

“Hello, sweet boy,” she murmured, the beginnings of a tentative smile lifting her parenthetically enclosed lips. It was becoming a little easier every time now—to smile and to mean it, to smile and to do so without reflexive condemnation.

“You looked away from me, Mom,” the child beneath her whispered, her skin cool beneath Blue’s long-fingered touch. “Why?”

Pink Diamond had taken Steven’s place in the bed, brown eyes dull and feverish, her accusation and her question alike caked on her cracked lips. Blood dribbled warningly down her mouth in a thin line.

“Pink!” The name was stolen from her, violently wrenched. She was just a little girl, and they still killed her anyway.“I—“

“Excuses,” Yellow Diamond scoffed in that singularly imperial way of hers.

Pink was gone—she was always gone—and her wife remained, her sharp facial features arranged in a knowing sneer. If Steven Universe’s eyes glowed like candlelight, then the businesswoman’s amber eyes seemed to burn with all the ferocity of a dying sun. It was a wonder that she didn’t simply implode on herself with all of that anger, shatter from the inside out and crumple to thousands of unrecoverable pieces.

“That’s all you have these days, Blue. Excuses, excuses.” Each word was a cruel crack of the whip driven into her skin with relish. How they loved to rake the nails of their words across each other’s faces these days; how good it felt to take some of the pain out on themselves and each other and the whole, damn, godawful world. “Why? Why now?”

Blue’s tongue fumbled for an answer, but it was hard, nigh impossible to think over the insistent shrilling of the disconnect tone of a long interrupted call. How long had she sat in that waiting room after Yellow had hung up?

Five minutes?

Maybe ten before the woman named Amethyst plodded over? 

Seconds were eternities these days; they felt like years upon years upon bitter, aching years.

“Defend yourself,” Yellow demanded.

“You’ll never let me grow up, will you?” 

“So, please , Blue Diamond… please don’t look away,” Steven Universe whispered.

He begged.

Blue Diamond did not wake with a start.

Nor did she wake with a scream.

She woke because a doorbell pealed through the silence of the penthouse suite, its sliding tones slipping beneath the darkness and into Blue Diamond’s half-empty bed, pressing an insistent hand against the wrenched open ‘o’ of her mouth.

It was a gruesomely familiar sound, heard so many times in so many different iterations of the same echo which seized across the twilight zone of her memories.

2:38AM.

That was when a police officer came to their front door and shattered the portrait of the Diamonds’ picturesque lives.

He’d rung the doorbell ever so politely.

He told them that their daughter was dead.

Pale eyes wide in collecting, growing, abscessing horror, Blue Diamond slowly turned her head to the left where she could just make out the change of one minute to the next on the alarm clock as the bell continued to chime, its music walking briskly down the hallway, its urgency knocking insistently at her bedroom door. 

3:36AM.

She waited for Yellow Diamond to burst through the threshold in a mass of panicked limbs and bedstruck hair, alarm in her golden eyes, the collar of her silky pajama shirt rising against her neck, but no such reassuring image erupted in the darkness.

The knight didn’t clamber through the trapdoor.

Her wife didn’t come.

It was an untenable oxymoron to Blue.

A contradiction.

An impossibility.

Because Yellow always showed up.

Perhaps she never arrived as quietly and as kindly as Blue would have preferred. Goodness knew that she was loud. Heavens knew she was harsh. The entire world called her abrasive and was almost entirely correct to do so. She wielded the sharpness of her persona like storied warriors had once done their gleaming swords.

But even so, and all the same, Yellow Diamond, for all of her faults, was there—constant, unwavering, stoic, and steady. She was never more than a step across the hallway, the door to her study never completely closed. 

She hadn’t come home before Blue had gone to bed, though.

She’d texted.

Brusquely.

And indicated that her meeting would hold her up.

“Don’t stay up. I’ll be home shortly afterwards.”

The doorbell chimed again, loud and ugly.

Ruinous.

8:13AM:

Stunned silence followed the nephrologist’s proclamation as morning light leaned in from the window, eager and insistent, yellow fingertips braced on the sill, as though it was straining to hear the news, too. They crowded around Steven’s bed—Garnet, Amethyst, and Greg—and stared at Priyanka Maheswaran with open disbelief, the emotion naked across their wide eyes and half-opened mouths. Greg’s fingers gently gripped his son’s shoulder.

Softly.

With all the delicacy that his condition required.

Kidneys.

His son was getting—

“No fuckin’ way, Doc!” 

Amethyst’s exclamation shattered the vacuum that the extraordinary words had made, and it was with a smile that transformed her entire physiognomy—so harsh and often weary—that Priyanka Maheswaran succinctly replied, “Yes, Amethyst. Yes fucking way.”

It was the most visible marker of how exultant she was that the usually prim doctor swore aloud in front of Steven.

And it was the most audible sign of how overwhelmed Pearl was that she, on speaker phone, didn’t bother to even scold the doctor, her affected gasp nearly unheard over the resulting din. For, in the blurred rush of seconds that followed, there was only incomprehensible noise and laughter and celebratory yelling as Garnet picked Amethyst up and spun her around through the light filled air. And there was an excited tangle of voices on the other end of the line as Peridot and Lapis were handed the news, too, the thin pillars of Pearl’s voice shaking at their foundations. The girls screamed, and they shouted, and they dissolved in paroxysms of disbelief, while a cat somewhere in the midst of them happily meowed. And there was a hoarse sob, thick and unrestrained, as Greg’s shoulders shook with a relief that felt so much like agony that he could barely stand to stand upright. His knees buckled as though were about to give way beneath his feet, the ground shuddering almighty and, strangely enough, not all. 

“You mean it, Dr. M?” Steven’s throttled voice entered the fray. His heart monitor had sped up somewhere in the middle of all the commotion, betraying his emotions before his sunken face ever could.

Because, as Greg glanced down, hardly able to comprehend what he was seeing through his tears, he could at very least ascertain that the fourteen-year old’s face was partially closed off, furrowed brow questioning as he peered up at Dr. Maheswaran from darkly grooved eyes. 

This year had taken so much out of him.

He couldn’t afford another loss.

None of them could withstand so much as a singular blow more.

“I’m…” Steven grappled with the words as though each one was new on his tongue, heavy and awkward, a little clumsy between the teeth. Greg, wiping at his snotting face with one hand, brought the other downwards from his son’s gowned shoulder and onto his wrist, touching it lightly, careful of all the slithering tubes. “I’m getting kidneys?”

Complete silence then—sudden—expectant and almost fearful.

Garnet set Amethyst down.

Static crackled on the line as Pearl and Lapis and Peridot all held their baited breaths.

And then, Priyanka Maheswaran did something very un-Priyanka Maheswaran-like, and Priyanka Maheswaran had just dropped the f-bomb in a room with a fourteen-year old for God’s sake. 

With a movement as slow as it was gentle, as tentative as it was quiet, the careworn doctor sat down on the edge of Steven’s bed and placed one of her lined hands on his blanketed leg. It was a mother’s touch—Greg could tell from the way that the pads of her fingers were arced ever so lightly on top of the wool, as though she was cupping the boy, holding him, and not simply touching. All the accumulated furrows in her face seemed to breathe with a kind of easiness that seemed contrarian to the woman’s unbending nature.

Paradoxical.

Dichotomous even.

But not wrong.

No.

Tenderness very much became Priyanka Maheswaran.

“In roughly half an hour, I’m getting in a helicopter that’s going to take me across the city to Empire Gen,” she began, “to an operating room where I’ll stand for a couple of hours waiting for Dr. Keating to say that it’s time. And there they’ll be, Steven.”

Her dark eyes widened.

A smile crept, all clandestine, onto her lips. 

“Your kidneys, ready to come home.”

She squeezed his knee then and held on to it—held on to him, anchoring him, or perhaps even herself, and maybe both of them together.

And in the space following this gesture, there was a pause, a slip of a second of a beat, before Steven finally let out the shuddered breath that they had all been holding.

The skepticism melted from his face, making way for acceptance, and on the heels of acceptance, relief.

“Took them long enough,” he grinned weakly.

It was the kind of joke that wasn’t funny, but, at the same time, very much was.

In that hospital room, filled to the point of excess with light and noise, they all laughed so hard, it was a wonder that they weren’t crying.

9:29AM:

For the first time in months, there was music in the kitchen.

There was dancing, and there was laughter, and there was joy.

Oh, God, there was joy.

So much of it.

Simply overflowing. 

Lapis turned the radio on and knobbed the volume up as loud as it would go, and Peridot, cradling a bemused Cat Steven in her arms, swayed breeze-like to the folksy, jangling beat. And the kitchen smelled like bacon and eggs and the warm doughiness of freshly made waffles. And this and this and this. And sunlight glanced in through the open windows, wreathing them all in crowns made of rosy gold and capes of salt-weathered wind. And the waves jubilantly whispered the news against the shore. And the susurrus swelled to a crescendo just as the song on the radio proclaimed its triumphant chorus: love, love, love, precious love.

And this and this and this. 

And though Pearl tried to attend to the oranges that needed squeezing for the juice they would eventually drink, and though she attempted to slice a few strawberries to garnish their waffles, Lapis only shook her electric blue head and pulled the slight woman into the center of the wooden floor to dance, their fingers tangling with the sounds of their laughter and shitty singing, with the unfettered sounds of celebration and euphoria and bliss.

And this and this and this.

Because Steven was getting kidneys today.

He was going to live.

And Pearl had no choice but to be swept up with the commotion of it, for the kitchen and the beach house and all the people and animals within its boundaries were simply kinetic with it—the emotion, the feeling, the loveliness, and the respite.

She tried to care about breakfast, but Lapis’s freckled nose, scrunched up in one long, continuous laugh, distracted her.

As the song’s bridge played, they twirled on the oaken slats of the floor as Lion wove between their legs—in and out—trying to catch the rhythm of their bare, tangoing feet.

And Pearl tried to come back down to Earth, thinking through the financial logistics of the surgery that they would still have to contend with after the fact or maybe even before. Finding the kidneys was only one variable in the equation; affording them was the hefty other. And what of Steven’s hospital stay? And all the medicines he would have to take after the completion of the surgery? When would all these bills pile up with the rest? When would the numbers climb so high that her painfully organized ledger could scarcely hope to scale them?

But these worries, always so pressing in the organized corners of her minds, slipped between the folds of her thoughts as though they were but loose grains of sand as Peridot—Peridot!—barreled in to her near the conclusion of the song. Cat Steven fell lightly to the ground, and the engineer braced her slender arms around Pearl’s midsection, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt. Physical intimacies had never come easily to the reticent twenty-one year old, and so, for this to be the expression of her own relief, for a hug to be how she communicated it to Pearl, was something extraordinary indeed.

Pearl staggered beneath the sudden weight but somehow remained upright, instinctively wrapping her arms around the girl, too.

And they both stood there for what seemed like an eternity compressed into a handful of seconds—fleeting and simply infinite.

The last notes of the song fell through the sun stricken air, and the jockey began to cycle through the daily news. It was seventy-eight degrees outside, sunny without a chance of rain, the wind crisp and cool. Traffic on I-65 leading into Jersey was pretty slow, so drivers might want to consider an alternate route.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

“This is really happening, huh?” Peridot asked, the question muffled against Pearl’s pajama top. A shock of wild, blonde hair brushed the edge of her chin.

“Pinch me,” Pearl only replied, her throat thick with emotion. “I half-think I’m dreaming.”

“Don’t wake up,” Lapis advised dryly as she moved back over to the counter, plucking a piece of bacon from a plate and snapping down hard on it.

“No…” And she smiled then, very softly, the gesture quiet but somehow, simultaneously loud. “I don’t think I will.”

The radio jockey said something then that Pearl tried to care about. Famed Diamond Electric CEO Yellow Diamond had been in a car wreck last night in Empire City. No one was seriously injured, but—

And that was all she deigned to hear before she kissed Peridot lightly atop of the head and extracted herself from the embrace.

“Lapis,” she laughed fondly, “you’re going to eat all the bacon.”

“Oh, like you eat it anyway.”

10:01AM:

Her name was Laura Norwood, and she had been twenty-eight years old—a young woman in the prime of her life. Someone’s daughter. Someone’s fiancée. Someone’s sister. Someone’s very best friend. A drunk driver pulled out in front of her tiny Impala at a red light, and that was that, the damage irrevocably dealt and done.

Five seconds was the difference between Laura Norwood being someone and becoming an empty shell, her head all bandaged up, a ventilator breathing for her because she no longer could. Five seconds was scarcely longer than the blink of an eye, and yet, it was enough to the eradicate everything this girl had been and anything she might have ever hoped to be. 

She had a pale scar on her upper lip.

There was a tattoo of the phases of the moon trailing down the fair skin of her upper right arm.

A strand of curly auburn hair escaped the confines of the gauze wrapped around her head wound.

It was always these little things that struck Priyanka Maheswaran so fiercely, piercing her through like a nail hammered in at just the right angle.

Apart from being Steven Universe’s savior, she had been her own person first.

For twenty-eight years and never again.

In the spacious OR at Empire Gen, Priyanka stood in line with the rest of the surgeons who would receive the last gift Laura would ever offer to the world: her organs. The theater was quiet, studiously solemn, as Dr. Alan Keating, the transplant attending, made the first incision, his hand steady as he dragged the scalpel down in a fluid motion that spoke to so many years of having done this dance of vicious contradictions. He had a bushy brow that collected like fuzzy caterpillars above his eyes. Crow’s feet pecked the leathery skin just beneath his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Some of you don’t know the drill,” he said, the bluntness of his words somewhat muffled behind his mask, “but whenever I do this procedure, I have to have a little pick me up, somethin’ to keep me going, somethin’ to remind me why I’m toeing the lines of the Hippocratic Oath that prevents all of us in here from doing any harm.”

Priyanka knew what was coming, and yet, she briefly closed her eyes against it anyway, nausea and aching relief commingling in the pit of her stomach. When she opened them again, she looked at Laura Norwood’s hand, stretched out at a perpendicular angle, and saw that her nails were painted a bright sunshine yellow.

“Startin’ from the left, tell me what organ you’re picking up and who it’s going to.”

Dr. Keating pointed his scalpel at the first person in line, a nervous-looking resident in maroon scrubs. They nearly dropped the cooler they were holding beneath the spotlight of the surgeon’s stare.

“H-heart,” they stuttered, but there was a certain conviction in their voice that spoke volumes. “Masumi Hashimoto. Forty-two years old. She and her husband want to travel the world after she recovers. First stop’s Paris.”

“Good,” Keating nodded gruffly as his fellow passed him an instrument. “Excellent. Next?”

And down the line they went.

“Lungs. Leo Russell. Nineteen and three quarters. He’s the captain of his uni’s debate team.”

“Liver, sir. Jane Myrick. Sixty-three years old. She wants to spend more time with her grandkids... there’s so much more she has to give them.”

“Pancreas. Kitty Coleman. Thirty-one. She and her partner are hoping to rescue a puppy soon.”

And on and on. 

Because Laura Norwood’s parents and fiancé had both agreed that she would have wanted to give everything, even if it meant that there was barely nothing of her left. 

When Keating’s gray eyes finally lit upon Priyanka, there was a silent understanding that passed in the clinically clean space between them.

Because they’d both been here together, dozens of times—what felt like hundreds—locking gazes over death in order to save just one life more.

“Steven Universe,” she said, her voice low, thick with sudden emotion. She conjured his beaten face in the theater of her mind’s eye. The echoes of all the hands and arms that had embraced her in his hospital room earlier that morning pressed against her skin with a softness that the nephrologist scarcely allowed herself to know. “Fourteen-years old. He’s going to get to grow up, Alan.”

It was a quick gesture, fleeting, but Keating smiled beneath his mask, the wrinkles around his eyes creasing.

“Those stories are always my favorites.”

10:10AM:

If consciousness was a black sea—sloshing, vicious, endless, primordial—then Blue Diamond’s soft voice was the lighthouse that called Yellow Diamond’s vessel safe to shore. She heard the faint strains of it from somewhere within the darkness, and she crawled towards it, simply stumbled, like a child just gaining its feet, all clumsiness. She craved its gentleness. God, how she wanted to be enveloped in its silken embrace. How she wanted to come home.

(Because home was not a place to the consummate businesswoman. It was not a multimillion dollar penthouse suite, nor a study, nor a master bedroom in which she never slept. It was a person. It always had been—Blue and Blue and Blue.)

“She was... inebriated?” 

The incredulousness in her wife’s hushed tone was so pronounced, that it was almost, if not entirely, offensive. 

“Heavily, Mrs. Diamond,” returned a wry voice that Yellow didn’t recognize. “I doubt she’ll remember even being in the ER when she wakes up, which is a shame. She was absolutely engaging.”

“Insomuch as?”

“She threatened to sue anyone who so much as touched her as we tried to assess her injuries.”

“Ah…” A rustle of heavy fabric and then a sigh, soft and exasperated. “Charming.”

When Yellow Diamond finally wrenched her eyes open, she struggled at first to gather a cohesive impression of her current situation.

Her entire body ached all over, stiff with the sort of heavy soreness she vaguely associated with her college running days, when she’d wake up riddled with cramps after doing ten miles the previous day. If she thought about it, though, really focused, most of the irritation was isolated to her left arm and her head... 

Granted, if she had to guess, the latter symptom had more to do with the copious amounts of alcohol she had imbibed the night before as opposed to anything else. 

(Another recalled relic from her university days—what it felt like to have a goddamn hangover.)

Apparently lying flat on her back, wherever the hell she was—though she was already beginning to construct a solid theory—Yellow’s heavily-lidded gaze found an unfamiliar white ceiling, upon which she pieced together scattered memories of the night before. Her temples ached dully. There was a heaviness like concrete settled in the dry oasis of her mouth. 

They’d been on their way home at who knew what time… it was amazing she had possessed enough of her faculties to be capable of calling her valet to begin with… traffic must have been bad because she kept yelling at the poor woman to drive faster… and then, there was a metallic screeching sound… a simultaneous jolt… a collision… someone had rear ended them… glass shattered with a piercing kind of finality… smoke poured into the entrails of the car, smothering the leather, her clothes, her hacking mouth… Yellow hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt… her entire body had slammed forward with the momentum… and then there was darkness, rushing… the sound of sirens clambering through the night… a jumble of confused noises… people in white coats trying to demand her attention… the coppery scent of blood in the air…

With a wince that wasn’t entirely voluntary, and a conviction that was wholly sure, she concluded that she was absolutely in a hospital.

The question now was the state of her own body.

What was the damage?

How fucked up was she?

Careful not to move her head, she glanced downwards and saw that her left arm was propped on top of a pillow and wrapped tightly in a stiff, dark brace. It comforted her, at the very least, to see that it was not a cast. A cast would have implied brokenness; a brace opened up the possibility that she had been lucky, that she may have escaped nearly intact.

A quick surveillance to her left proffered the view of a wide, glass window with the blinds pulled down. Pinpricks of daylight seeped through the slats, making horizontal rows on the darkened floor. 

“She was lucky, Mrs. Diamond.”

Yellow briefly smirked to herself.

Damn right she was.

“As far as we can tell, she only has a hairline fracture in her left wrist and a few small abrasions on her face and neck where glass shrapnels hit her,” the woman she surmised to be her doctor explained. “However, I want to keep her another night for observation, just to ensure that she doesn’t have a concussion we didn’t catch during triage.”

A pause as her wife mulled over the words in that thorough manner of hers, grazing them slowly in the silence.

“That makes sense,” she finally returned. “Thank you, Dr. Reed.”

“Mm, of course.”

The voices waltzed together on Yellow’s far right, the one direction that had escaped her otherwise thorough assessment of her surroundings. Though, perhaps escaped was not the correct word. Escaped was too coincidental; it eliminated the possibility of foresight; it implied a scarcity of intent. And Yellow Diamond, consummate to the last, was not the type of woman who ever committed an action without purpose, who made a movement that did not have an objective neatly attached.

For she was a tactician in her bones, all utilitarian ideology.

Everything had a place stiffly governed by reason.

Every movement was a cosmological chess piece in the game she so adamantly played against the cruel machinations of an unthinking world.

She hadn’t looked to her right because she hadn’t wanted to.

Because she couldn’t bear to face her wife.

Couldn’t stand to comprehend the emotions in her tall, oval face—whatever they happened to be.

The fear.

The shame.

The silent disappointment.

And maybe, worst of all, the love which had long been absent from her grief-torn physiognomy—that Yellow Diamond had craved—desperately—at the very same time that she had grown to fear it in its deficiency.

It was ridiculous—goddamn absurd—but if Blue Diamond still loved her, and it was written all over the softly curving lines in her face, then Yellow didn’t know what she would do.

She supposed she would say it back.

And she would mean it.

Absolutely.

Entirely.

Or, maybe, just maybe, four years of anger and bitterness and sadness and grief and horror and painstaking care and long, sleepless nights and how many missed meetings and hundreds of trips to the cemetery and hundreds of trips to the doctor’s office and fear and loneliness and frustration would rise up the column of her throat and erupt.

Maybe, just maybe, she would simply explode, and the both of them would burn where they laid and stood.

Turning to ash and dust together at last.

All their history consigned to smoke.

So, even now, as Yellow made a motion to slightly tilt her head in that direction, she only allowed herself to ascertain their elongated shadows on the floor, where they stood in the rectangle of light thrown into the room from the hallway. She saw the hem of Blue Diamond’s dress pooling at her feet, and comprehended the metallic supports of her cane sucking the cold, hard ground.

But didn’t dare to glance up.

Because she was afraid that her wife still loved her, and she was terrified that she would say something fucked up to ruin it all over again.

Because that alone was what these four years had so deeply instilled in her, the pedagogy now as habitual as the cup of black coffee she drank every evening.

Insomuch that they still loved each other, they had hurt each other just as much and maybe even more intensely so.

“Do you think she will sleep for a little longer still?” Blue asked, her voice hushed. Yellow Diamond abruptly closed her eyes as she felt the pair’s gazes drawn towards her again, as though suddenly magnetized.

“Possibly,” Dr. Reed replied, her scratchy voice edged with amusement. “We gave her a hefty dosage of sedative.”

“For her sake?” The question was dry, resigned. “Or your own?”

“Excellent question, ma’am.”

In the darkness, Yellow’s brow twitched irritably. 

The nerve of this woman.

“In that case then… I think I may go home for awhile—rest… she won’t miss me.”

She said it so casually—and so lightly—that the businesswoman knew that the doctor wouldn’t suspect a thing, but Yellow knew. Or, at the very least, she could hazard a well-educated guess, that Blue believed in the verisimilitude of her statement. Words were always so carefully collected on the palate of her tongue, always loaded with fullness of intent.

It was funny, Yellow supposed.

Downright hilarious.

How belief, then, could be so condemning.

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Dr. Reed said reassuringly, “and call you if there’s anything urgent.”

“Please do, and thank you. Sincerely…”

“Of course, of course…”

Yellow Diamond heard but did not watch as one pair of footsteps died away and another pair drew closer, the perpetrator’s soft soles shuffling almost imperceptibly against a tiled floor. The clinking and the clanking of an accompanying cane was just a little louder.

It felt as though her heart was about to violate her throat, pulsing so loudly, the sound and the sensation slippery and wet and hot.

Surely, she thought—she dreaded, she half-hoped—Blue Diamond could hear it, too.

Yellow didn’t dare unclose her eyes, though, this shell of a ruse her last defense against a vulnerability she was not yet prepared to confront. She was weak. She was a coward. God, she was so many other foolish things besides. Somewhere, in the hallway just outside the door, the humdrum and quiet cacophony of a hospital swarmed around the two of them like the droning of hazed bees. Somewhere, in the vast, stretching darkness, Blue Diamond stood above her, only feet, mere inches away. Perhaps she even leaned, for the velvety fabric of one of her sleeves grazed the blankets above Yellow’s chest, tantalizing a touch that the woman’s entire existence yearned to re-experience.

How she ached to be touched.

Tenderly.

By the person she loved.

But there was no such relief.

Blue Diamond pulled her hand away.

10:43AM:

While a nurse drew blood from the crook of Steven’s right arm, Garnet dutifully held his left hand, curling the striations of her fingers over the spines of his knuckles—lines and mountains and lines.

He hated needles—this she knew—but he needed one test more in order to ensure that his body was ready for the transplant surgery.

“Hey,” she grinned suddenly, and it was hard to keep the triumph from her voice as she nosed the top of the boy’s pale forehead. “Steven.”

“Whatcha cookin’, good looking?” He returned just as playfully as the nurse withdrew the needle in a flurry of expert motions. She bandaged the spot with a swath of gauze and tape before placing the blood sample carefully in her bin. With a small smile, she took her leave.

“I think it just hit me,” she said softly. She whispered it into his dark hair. Her heart swelled with the emotion. Simply soared. She could have shouted. She half-wanted to still. “You did it, my little fighter. You won.”

“The referee hasn’t called the match yet.” Steven lifted a black brow, taunting her, teasing. She could make out the barest sliver of his face beneath her.

How the side of his mouth was lifted in the beginnings of a smile.

“No,” she murmured, kissing him sweetly, “but it’s all but over.”

11:59AM:

“You suck,” Steven laughed as Amethyst slurped down the dregs of her chocolate milkshake, the straw sucking vacantly at the bottom of the styrofoam.

Because he would be having surgery in a few hours time, the kid wasn’t allowed to eat anymore.

Of course, both of them knew his ribbing was empty anyway.

He hadn’t entirely held down solid food in days.

But hey—it was a special occasion.

She gamely went along, her mouth teasing itself into a wicked smile as she propped her feet up on the side of his bed, crossing her ankles with a kind of delicacy that would have made Pearl both exasperated and faintly proud.

“I’ll drink t’that,” she snorted, raising the empty cup up in the air. “That nurse said you’ll be slurpin’ down milkshakes with me this time next week.”

And it was then, with a suddenness that nearly choked her, all the possibilities of the next chapter of their life opened up to the twenty-eight year old like a good ass preview right before the beginning of a movie.

They were going to get to hit up the Boardwalk for fry bits together again and slam all the burgers and pizzas that they wanted. They would play tag on the beach with Lapis and Peridot and Garnet and sometimes, when she could be enticed, Pearl. They would swim in the shallows of the ocean, riding the salt crusted waves until the sun set low in the carpet of the sky, signaling it was time for dinner. 

Time to come home.

They would get to live.

No more hesitations.

No more strings (or tubes) attached.

“Oh,” the little asshole simply smirked. “I can hear Pearl now. That’s disgusting! Are you cave people?”

To which Amethyst could only laugh so hard that her stomach began to ache.

Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk her milkshake so fast after all.

1:12PM:

Tender sunlight threaded itself all silk-like through the blinds as Steven’s soft snores drifted upwards from his half-open mouth. Pearl had only arrived at the hospital a little over half an hour ago, and he had remained awake long enough to smile sleepily at her and say hello before drifting off into the easiest sleep she had seen him surrender to in weeks. 

Because it was always a fight these days.

A skirmish.

A war.

To a boy with chronic kidney disease, sleep was as much as a threat as it was a relief.

But now, his purple-ringed eyes were closed in a gentle sort of way, strands of his curly black hair falling across his forehead in loose curls. Pearl was not brave—not in the way Garnet was, at least—she didn’t dare crawl into the hospital bed with him lest she accidentally disturb an important line, a wire, a tube.

Her upbringing was such that she treated all the boundaries she was presented with the respect they may or may not have deserved.

It hadn’t been until she met Rose that she began to wonder what would happen if she toed the tightrope a little more boldly than her strict mother had ever allowed.

It had been Rose who had taught her that love, in all of its sundry, multifaceted forms, was rebellion in and of itself.

A feeling so much bigger than a fixed and finite set of rules.

A sprawling complex of sensations and experiences and memories upon thousands of flickering memories: her spidery fingers tangled in pink hair, Rose’s loud, round laugh, the thrill of protest, the nights they spent exchanging secrets beneath an alabaster moon with its sprinkling of silvery stars. Lips against lips, palms against palms, the shuffle of their warm breaths coiling with the spring breeze. They waltzed together in perfect union, synchronized to even the very last step. 

And then she met Greg.

And they fell in love.

And had a baby.

And Rose died.

Simply ceased to exist, as Pearl’s world continued to turn on.

Slowly.

With distant and detached cruelty.

It was an oversimplification of their history, scrubbed free of all the complications that Pearl had agonized over night after night, trying to untangle all the knots in the hopes she would find the lifeline that would tell her where it had all gone wrong.

But the deeper she plunged, the less sure she became, her fingers all red for the effort of trying.

And so, in the end, it was easier to stick to the simple facts.

She had loved Rose, and now she was gone.

But she had left behind Steven for her to love, to cherish, and to protect.

And love?

In and of itself?

Love was rebellion—the woman knew that much at the very least. Love was leaping over sure lines, and it laying your life down on a line. It was eschewing all the boundaries of a normalized existence. It was bravery.

A gentle smile curving the shape of her thin lips, Pearl reached up and pulled the side of her hand down the side of Steven’s face, holding him gently.

Tomorrow morning, she would wrap her slender arms around him.

She would be hard pressed to let him go.

3:28PM:

The hours dripped by, the minutes plunging like saline in a steady, rhythmic drip. Time was meticulously regulated in the space of an OR, systematically quantified and accounted for by the narrow screen on the far wall where huge, red numbers indicated that five hours, twenty-five minutes, and eighteen seconds had elapsed since Keating had made his first incision. Each second, down to its tenth, counted when surgeons literally held lives in their hands, an adage that was especially true of organ procurement surgeries where even the slightest of complications could delay gratification for so many others. 

One by one, the various doctors received their organs and made their bow from Dr. Keating’s operating theater. There were places to be, lives to be saved, and new stories to tell in the darkness around the warmth of a kindling fire.

Masumi Hashimoto was going to get to travel to Paris.

And Leo Russell was going to kick ass at debate team.

And Jane Myrick was going to have the opportunity to spend more time with her grandkids.

And Steven Universe… Steven Universe was going to get to grow up.

Sitting on a stool as she waited for Alan to call her up, Priyanka wasn’t quite seeing the Empire Times crossword puzzle that she’d been working on for the last hour or so. Instead, she saw the contours of Steven’s future stretch out before her, bright and tangible where they hadn��t quite been before. There was a lot of smiling and laughter. And there was a flash of sweet mundanity as she pictured him shouldering a backpack for the first time in nearly a year as he wound his way through a crowded school hallway, And there was a certain warmth as the scene suddenly shifted to Greg and the Gems enveloping their boy in the tangle of their arms as they welcomed him home from a long day.

Healthy, safe, and sound.

It struck the nephrologist then, as it so often did when she was caught unaware, that these were all the little things that she sometimes took for granted with her own daughter—going to school and coming home all intact.

Not every parent could say the same.

And so, as Dr. Keating’s team prepared the ice slush that the surgeon would wrap around Laura Norwood’s kidneys in preparation for removal, Priyanka resolved to herself that she would be more attentive to the mundane, to the little moments, to every smile that Connie worked herself up to proffer. 

Because the kid had been smiling more often these days, the lines of her lips twitching upwards with more regularity than the doctor was used to knowing.

“Dr. Maheswaran,” Alan said suddenly. 

He only ever called her by her formal title when he was about to deliver bad news that any good friend would try to avoid. 

His fellows had abruptly stopped what they were doing, hands frozen above Laura’s body, eyes drawn to her midsection. 

It was like a grotesque Renaissance painting.

The light head glared unholily onto Dr. Keating’s bowed head.

“Come here for a moment.”

Priyanka’s entire stomach constricted where she sat on a stool that suddenly felt too small for her body. She knew that voice, but it was different this time. 

Because she'd gone soft. 

She was compromised.

She cared too much about her patient to accept the reasonable outcome of a blow.

“No,” she whispered. Her voice was garbled behind her mask. Guttural. “Alan, no.”

“Blunt kidney trauma…” he replied softly. She knew that voice. It was his best patient voice. The voice doctors used when they were delivering bad news. The voice Priyanka, in all of her studious harshness, had never entirely mastered. “…sometimes doesn’t produce outward signs… I’m sorry, Dr. Maheswaran.”

They’d called each other by their first names for nearly half a decade.

His gruff voice tripped over itself.

It hesitated, and it stared down into the precipice it had to jump. 

“These kidneys are unsalvageable.”

4:07PM:

The minutes inched onwards with all the delightfulness of paint drying on a damn wall. They crawled into hours, and they languished like poetic lovers, taking their slow, sweet time. Each second was seemingly savored by the analog clock on the wall, the hands lingering far longer than they should.

A world in love with itself.

How disgustingly saccharine.

Though Dr. Reed was pretty damn sure that Yellow didn’t have a concussion, she was also pretty damn reluctant to let the businesswoman go until her head completely stopped pounding. For, even after she had woken up properly, the dull, localized jabbing hadn’t gone away, persisting around her temples.

A hangover headache. 

“Perhaps,” Dr. Reed had hummed noncommittally, pressing a skeptical hand below her chin.

“Trust me,” Yellow returned darkly, rubbing the left side of her head tenderly with her middle finger. “I know when I have a hangover.”

But the batty woman still insisted that she stay, just so they could rule out the possibility of latent brain injury, which was why Yellow was currently hooked up to a banana bag as a means of working the last of Lagavulin out of her system. 

Because, if it was indeed a hangover, this simple remedy would assuredly help with her headache. 

And, well, if it wasn't, it would replenish her electrolytes at the very least.

Thrilling.

Situated in the chair next to Yellow’s bed, Poppy’s thin brow was woven together in concentration as she knitted what appeared to a lumpen, misshapen scarf—or was it a sweater?—her metallic needles clicking together every so often in the silence. The maid had arrived nearly an hour ago to bring her employer a set of pajamas to change into, as well as some paperwork from the CEO’s office. However, with her usual fumbling obsequiousness, she had insisted that she could stay for awhile.

She could attend to Yellow’s needs while her arm was out of commission.

Could satisfy her hourly duties.

But Yellow was no fool.

The slight woman did not linger out of the simple contract which existed between them as employer and employee. Indeed, she suspected that Poppy’s fidelity ran deeper than even that—that the maid dared to like her despite Yellow’s general sharpness of exterior, that she wanted to keep her company in a hospital room that was as empty as it was cold.

In the end, she supposed that she was… grateful for the implicit support.

She supposed, if she was forced to name an emotion at gunpoint, she would have no choice but to admit to her appreciation of someone who had been by her side, attendant to her every want, for nearly a decade.

But there was no steel barrel pressed against her tousled hairline, only the tinny clinking of those infernal needles and the occasional shuffling of papers as Yellow Diamond tried and subsequently failed to skim the brief the Zircons had left in her inbox. It was well-written—comprehensive—as it always was with Diamond Electric’s head attorneys, but what was an abstract lawsuit to the very real questions which tumbled ceaselessly across the furrows of the woman’s otherwise neatly tilled mind? What were words—nouns and verbs and adjectives—next to the torment of her wife’s almost touch?

To the simultaneous miracle and utter insanity of her sudden recovery?

Sick, angry, guilty, overcome, Yellow plucked her readers from the bridge of her nose and slapped them neatly on the tray next to her bed. The sudden thud startled Poppy from her knitting.

“D-did you need something, ma’am? Can I get you a glass of water? A snack from the vending machine?”

“No,” she snapped, and then, correctly interpreting the stung look on her maid’s face, she remembered herself.

She took a deep breath.

It wasn’t Poppy’s fault that her wife was doing better.

However…

“I mean,” she amended herself gruffly, “no thank you, Poppy… I do have a small favor to ask of you, though.”

“Yes, Mrs. Diamond?” She leaned forward in her chair, her scarf, sweater, or whatever it was flopping limply over her neatly crossed legs. “Anything.”

Gathering her thoughts in the very same way she gathered her lined fingers into a temple next to her stomach, Yellow thought to herself first that perhaps it was about time she gave her maid a raise.

Her second thought was the one she verbalized aloud, the question doled out in carefully measured words, nouns and verbs and a dash of barely repressed reluctance for good measure.

“That boy… Steven… he’s in this hospital, too, yes?”

[toshisae]

call me baby

summary: in which chenle gives you the entire world in exchange for some love

genre: crack, fluff and another pinch of angst 

theme: ceo!chenle (sugardaddy au but without the sexy shit its just he buys you things in exchange for you loving him ok? ok) 

word count: 2.8k

author’s note: HIIIII ITS BEEN A LONG ASS TIME SINCE I WROTE SOMETHING SO HERES THIS also theres no sexy time unless the sexy time u want is going on an endless shopping spree then this fic is for u!! its just another crack idea i had lol and this is just to get rid of writers block or smth despite having this in my drafts for the longest time

–

you know how people say not to chat with random strangers from the internet?

because it’s terrifying and shit??

well you never listened 

here you are on a friday night on your phone

looking for some 40 year olds to troll

on this sugar daddy app you randomly found one day

not like you needed money or whatever

you lived with your brother jaemin who’s a doctor

so i guess you could say u’re: $$$$

and it’s just that you have nothing to do

what’t the worst that could happen right?

ding!

your phone vibrates in your hand

it looks like you’ve matched with your designated sugar daddy

“congratulations! you’ve matched with 6chittaphon9”

you looked at his profile and saw that he’s a 23 year old dancer

not up for it, you swiped left

“give me the good shit bro” - you tell the phone

you clicked the globe icon on the bottom of the screen

it switched you to a radar where it scans for possible sugardaddies who use the app

a little later your phone dings again

“congratulations! you’ve matched with zhong$”

and when you clicked on his profile,,

you let out a big big gasp 

he’s a 18 year old ..

looking for.. sugar babies??

if you were drinking something then you would’ve spat out that liquid real quick

you swiped to the right and sent this dude a message

“hi”

ok so chenle right

chenle is the youngest billionaire in the world

bye kylie jenner oof

after his father’s passing, his company, zhongs inc. was in his hands

his father’s last wish was to have chenle get married at a young age

but chenle obviously didn’t like that idea

he wanted to experience a normal teenage life where he parties, drinks, date some random girls or whatever a pesky teenager does

so he found himself downloading a sugarbaby app

also just for the lolz like c’mon this is chenle the king of clownery

the c in chenle means clownery wbk

he had the money, the looks, almost anything you need for a man

so he quickly made his account

and not a minute later he already matched with someone named ‘<y/n3’

he sees that this y/n person already sent him a message

so obviously he replies

“hello”

you: asl?

chenle: 17 / m / seoul; u?

you: same except im a female

chenle: well ain’t that obvious

on the outside you bursted out laughing

you: ok capt. crunch so would you like telling me your name or is it confidential

chenle: i mean, i guess its kinda confidential but the company wont know anyway but im zhong chenle 

you: ????? are u important or sumn

chenle couldn’t believe his eyes

chenle: um.. im ZHONG chenle

you: whats so special with your name

chenle was actually quite glad you dont know about his name or his background

chenle: nothing so wyd

it didn’t take awhile for you two to get along 

since you two had the same type of humor and age

you: why are you on this app tho if you are “young and rich”

chenle: i could ask you the same question

you: its friday my dude and im bored 

chenle: well,,,,,,,,,,, idk my friend recommended it to me

you: you’re friends with a bunch of old people?

chenle: nO I MEAN YES?? I MEAN NO 

you: ... are u fucking with me

chenle: no i’m not fucking with you, im talking to u :D 

in the end chenle asks you if it was okay that he’ll send you some money for fun

chenle: yk this app is about sugardaddies looking for sugarbabies right so lets make the most of it and give me your paypal or venmo and ill send you some cash for talking to me <3 

you: wtf chenle no its fine!!! i had lots of fun talking to you and this app is just a whole ass joke but im glad i met a new friend here but its okay dont send me some money !!!!!

chenle: nooo think of it like i’m treating you out for some dinner so please allow me 

you: still ! i wont let you,, till i get to see you so i know youre not some 40 year old i still think you are

chenle: how many times do i have to tell you im really 18 years old ffs but sure, when are you free?

on the inside youre just like: ASJDHJHDUIADHASJKDAHAHD WHAT THE FUCK

you: uhh i have school so i’m always busy hehehe

chenle: then i’ll see you in your school, what school do you go to?

this kid doesnt know when to give up

you: hhhhhhh i guess then i’m free tomorrow 

chenle: GREAT! I’LL SEE YOU ON HONGDAE here’s my number boo

and there you have it

your first unofficial meet up with zhong chenle himself

you were too much in thought about meeting him you didnt even notice jaemin standing there with pizza in his hands

“what are you staring at sis?” - jaems

“uh nothing” you snatched the pizza from his hands

fast forward to tomorrow

you were getting nervous to meet chenle

“hey where are you going?” jaemin takes a peek of you in your room

can he stop scaring you like that

“going out” - u 

“going where?” - jaems

“hongdae”

“cuteee do you have a date today?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you

“no-”

“are you going out with that pizza delivery boy?!” jaemin suddenly gushes

“jeno?” you ask him

“yeah that one” - jaemin

“no, i’m just gonna go shopping” you brush him off

jaemin shrugs and gives you some pocket money to spend

“be safe and have fun” he closes the door of your room

after safely arriving in hongdae, you sat somewhere thats not that crowded

who knows if this chenle person is famous right

so there you were waiting for him to text you or something

and just like that, your phone rings

it was an unknown number

but you answer anyway

“hello this is chenle, may i ask if you are in gongcha right now?” 

you looked around the people who’s passing by hoping to see someone fancy looking holding their phones

suddenly someone stops right in front of you

“found you” 

with that, chenle hangs up and sits across the table from you

“hi, i’m chenle” he gives his hand out for you to shake

and man, you were shookt

he looks like an ordinary teenager 

or a hypebeast for this occasion 

“o-oh .. h-hello” you bow

chenle suddenly laughs at your reaction 

his laugh is beautiful 

“don’t be nervous baby, i mean no harm” he smiles

his smile that totally made your heart melt

“how could i not? you’re the youngest billionaire out here” you gushed

chenle shushes you after the billionaire part

“sorry about that, it’s just i don’t like it when people tell me that” he tells you casually

ok humble king

“have you ordered yet? if not let’s order right now, on me” he grabs his wallet from his pocket and heads inside gongcha

after taking your orders, you two sat outside again with your drinks

“so y/n.. tell me about yourself” chenle takes a sip of his drink

“well, like i told you last night, i’m a student in college and i live with my brother who’s a doctor and that’s about it.. what about you, mr. zhong” you giggled

“first of all, don’t call me mr. zhong. you can call me lele instead and i love music and i like to play the piano and sometimes i sing” he shares, showing off his pearly whites

and after some many more conversations with him, he finally asks you an important question

“ok last question” he laughs, “i know it’s kinda weird but i really like your company and i know we met through a sugar daddy/sugar baby app but would you like.. stay with me..?” he asks cautiously

you stared at him with wide eyes

“i’ll pay for everything you want.. just,, stay or keep me company..?”

you kept quiet, just in shock on what just happened

“it’s okay if you don’t want to, just forget that i asked” he laughs awkwardly

“no it’s okay, i’ll keep you company but please please don’t pay for everything. i can pay for myself” you tell him

“why not? i got money, i can spoil you with gifts” he looks at you confused

“if you can’t remember, i’ve got a brother who’s a doctor and i guess we’re loaded too you know” you roll your eyes at him

“pfft okay then so.. where were we” 

and with that you guys carry on your conversation 

months has passed and you’ve been with chenle through everything

every time something happened in his company, you were there comforting him or just keeping him sane through out everything

and within those months, you’ve seen different sides of him as well

like the serious side of him– when he’s in business meeting and you’re his plus one 

aside from his secretary of course

the funny side of him– when he’s cracking jokes to literally everyone

sometimes he takes days off in the midst of his own company just to pull pranks on his secretary, renjun

and of course, his vulnerable side– when he feels he can’t do what his father left him, the family legacy

there were night where you had to stay over at his place just to make him calm down or just to make sure he’s sleeping or eating well 

and tonight was those vulnerable nights of chenle

here you were in his room, on the floor holding his hand as he rants about how his day turned to shit 

“it’s just so.. hard you know?” he opens up, “when everyone expects you to follow a certain life but i’m not all about that business shit life! i want to sing or fucking play the piano or do some teenager shit not this paper work life!” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence

“ah shit i’m crying in front of you again” he laughs, wiping the tears 

you don’t say anything but held his hand tighter

“thanks y/n.. you’re the best” he smiles down at you

“anything for you, chenle. that’s why i’m here for you right? to keep you company” you smile back

“can you.. come up here with me” chenle motions for you to sit beside him on the bed

you agree and climbed up

chenle sits up awkwardly, staring at you.

“woah this is the first time i had a girl on my bed” he giggles

“then i’m honoured” you laugh

suddenly your phone vibrates multiple times

you take a look and its your brother looking for you

“who is it?” chenle asks

“it’s my brother, he said i should go home” you slowly push yourself from his comfy bed

“no, it’s late. i’ll take you home first thing in the morning” 

“i don’t want to be a burden to you lele” you say shyly

“you’re never a burden to me y/n” chenle smiles again

that night, you slept in his very arms for the first time

you wake up earlier that him and decided to prepare breakfast for him

you set the eggs and bacon on the table with orange juice

you smiled at your efforts, hoping he’d like it

chenle woke up in distraught since you were no where in sight

he was in his pajama pants and he rushed downstairs to check if you were still there

and thankfully, you were

you were on the dining table, waiting for him with breakfast ready

“good morning” he grins, face looking brighter than ever

you smile back at him, “good morning to you too, sleepyhead. help yourself with some breakfast”

chenle takes a seat and sips on the orange juice next to him, “did you make this?” he asks

you nod, “for you” 

you could’ve swore you saw him blush for a moment there 

and with that, you two ate in peace, just enjoying each other’s company

a few days later

you couldn’t make it to chenle’s office since you had classes and it was exam week 

chenle was obviously very lonely that week

even his own secretary checked up on him cause he was awfully quiet ever since you came into his life

“so how are you and y/n huh” renjun casually asks chenle who was busy reading papers on the table

“we’re doing great” chenle replies nonchalantly 

“are you two going steady now?”

that question made chenle halt to a stop on what he was doing

renjun notices that chenle turned quiet

“i never asked her to be official” chenle gasps, scaring renjun in the process

“wha-”

“renjun hyung can you get me the biggest bouquet bundle you can find” chenle rushes

renjun nods and grabs his ipad, looking for what chenle requested

“fuck.. what did y/n wanted again” chenle asks himself, trying to remember the bag or things you told him about

“call jisung and tell him we’re going to the mall” chenle tells renjun yet again, rushing to the elevator so he could go to the mall with his best buddy

“so what are we buying your special someone again?” jisung asks chenle who was busy pacing around the mall

“y/n said she wanted a bag but i cant remember what was it” chenle tells jisung who just looks as lost as he was

chenle ended up going to every luxury store they had in the mall

like louis vitton, gucci, prada, balenciaga, fendi

you name it he went there and bought one bag each

he even went to some make up stores thanks to jisung’s suggestion

surprisingly he had a girlfriend who was a makeup artist and puts make up on jisung’s face when they have nothing to do

and of course, chenle followed what his best friend suggested

now they were on their way back to your place cause you just texted chenle that you were almost done with your exam

chenle and jisung unload his car and went straight up to your apartment that you shared with your brother

and your brother answers the door

“uh chenle? what are you doing here?” jaemin answers the door

chenle stood there in shock once again, “jaemin hyung? you’re y/n’s brother?” he stares at jaemin confused.

jaemin nods slowly before realization hits him, “you’re the person y/n is seeing?!” 

chenle nods uncertainly, slightly offended you never told jaemin about him but quickly shrugs it off. 

“well surprise! now can you help us with this? i’m asking y/n to be my girlfriend when she arrives home” 

jaemin immediately steps in and helps the two boys

after an hour or so, everything is now set into place

now they were just waiting for you to arrive

chenle stood there with his usual work attire which was a formal suit, holding a big ass bouquet and the paper bags right behind him

“jisung how do i look?!” chenle looks at jisung who was showing him two thumbs up

“dashing bro, she’ll say yes in no time”

and as if on cue, you walked in

and to say you were shocked to see chenle standing there 

“lele! what are you doing here?” you covered your mouth in shock as you saw the never ending line of paper bags right behind him and the bouquet he was holding

“i’m here to ask you to be mine” he replies, staring at you once again

“does my brother know you’re here?” you look around your living room and you spot jaemin in the kitchen, watching the entire thing go down

“yeah. why didn’t you tell me he was your brother” chenle pouts, but shakes his head as he hands you the bouquet

chenle clears his throat once again, “na y/n.. would you be my first and last girlfriend?” he closes his eyes tight, waiting for your response

“i would be honoured” you take the bouquet off his hands and jumped into his arms

“about time you asked her” jisung comments in the background

“baby look, i got you some gifts!” chenle puts you down and shows you the abundant amount of things he got you

you smacked him in the chest, “what did i say about you giving me expensive gifts!” 

“let me spoil you, please? you showed me how loving someone wholeheartedly is priceless, and i want to return the favor in my own way” chenle shows you his infamous puppy eyes.

“lele you’re making me cry!” you tear up, hidng your face in his neck

“also because i can’t remember the thing you told me you wanted a few days ago so i had to compromise” chenle giggles

you were happy

and he was happy

who knew an app could bring you two together and end up like this

the end!

[bleufrost]

Frozen Embers || Chapter One

Loki x reader

Series Preview/General Story Guide

Warnings: a swear or two maybe? Nothing extreme quite yet (: 

Series summary: Growing up under the guidance of S.H.I.E.L.D, you were trained from the moment you could walk to be a good agent. You were everything you needed to be, but the emotions and empathy that ran through your blood tainted all of your hard work. One day, you are given the chance to prove yourself by being assigned to the cell of Loki, the god of mischief. Quickly, icy walls begin to melt as you both realize that your time together is bringing forth a mix of flame and frost that can only end in chaos. 

Original request by: @procrastinatinglikeabitch

Masterlist 

A/N: ahh this is my first ever series! i read it over like thirty times but im sure theres still mistakes lol. I really hope you guys like it though!! feedback of any kind is always suuuper appreciated and although I cant always respond to comments on this side blog, please know that they make my entire day <3 love yall !

You had felt from the beginning that this was a terrible idea. Fury had called you into his office that morning, his normal dead serious look upon his face. You were used to it, but for whatever reason today it set you on edge. He had briefed you on your mission, it wasn’t the first little assignment he had given you but this one had left an uneasy feeling in your stomach. Not much did that, but what he had asked of you very seriously went against everything you believed in. Fury told you that you were to get as close to Loki, the god of mischief, as possible. Not only were you to gain his trust, but you were to also completely shatter that trust by informing S.H.I.E.L.D of everything he told you. 

Loki was a threat, they said. He was dangerous, they said. Yet, you still couldn't stop the growing fear and suspicion that you were doing the wrong thing from settling within your stomach.

Regardless of how you felt emotionally, it was still your mission and you were expected to complete it. As an agent, there was no room for sentimental matters to intermingle with work, and you often forgot that. You didn’t want to be stuck with inside jobs for the rest of your life though, so you made the decision long ago that what Fury said you would do. At the end of the day, you knew and trusted him far more than this god who had tried to overtake the world, not to mention had also stolen the free will of your friend and mentor, Clint. He had caused irreversible damage to the lives of countless innocent people so you knew you had to put your morals aside for a second considering he had done so for a while; he may not deserve to be used, but neither did your friends. With that in mind, you made your way over to the holding cell.

***************

Sliding your key card into the heavy metal opening was something you had never done before. In the grand scheme of things, you were still a fairly new agent and so the opportunity to come down to specialized cells was not one that you had been offered; until now. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest and you tried hopelessly to calm it. Whether or not Loki could hear the nervous thumping or not didn’t matter; you had a feeling that he could sense it.

Quickly brushing the invisible lint off your clothing and straightening up the black top and jeans you wore as your uniform, you took one last calming breath before stepping inside. The cool metal offered no sense of warmth or comfort as your heels clicked against the floor. Sound echoed for what appeared to be miles in here, and you swallowed thickly as you realized that you were trying to be quiet; you were trying to hide from the person that you needed to be seen by and that had to stop. 

The next step came far more confidently, and you lifted your head a bit higher and stood a bit straighter. He would be within a specially engineered cell designed specifically to keep him inside. He more than likely had not been offered conversation since he was thrown in here. He was alone, and a god with his need to be praised would not do well when met with complete silence at every turn and passing moment. You had the upper hand here, so you had to use it. 

************

Loki sat with his back against the soft pillowed sofa he had conjured up within the cell. He tossed a little statue up and down as he contemplated for the hundredth time that day what he would do when he inevitably escaped this prison. It was stupid of these midgardians to think that they could hold him for long; an ignorance they would soon come to regret. As it stands though, he remained here nearly going mad with boredom. He would never admit it, but the lack of company was beginning to weigh on him in a manner that was testing his sanity. 

That’s when he heard it. Soft footsteps that turned a bit louder after a moment or so. The sound bounced off the walls and met his ears in a way that sparked his curiosity immediately, and Loki couldn’t help but wonder if those steps would lead the person right to his cell. As they drew nearer, his excitement grew. He wanted to get up and see for himself who or what was walking through these typically barren halls, but if they were to come to him he would not want to grant them the satisfaction of seeing him eager or even so much as intrigued by their presence. He remained there with his back against the sofa and resumed his mindless tossing of the small figurine. 

*************

Stopping in front of the glowing cell was nerve wracking, but seeing the god for the first time in person was absolutely terrifying. Loki was laying upon an ornate bed-like couch, surrounded by beautiful furniture and books that had surely not been gifted to him by S.H.I.E.L.D. He had something in his hands, and your eyes watched a moment as the object was flipped up into the air before settling back down into the skin of his palm. It was oddly mesmerizing.

You couldn’t have been staring for more than a few seconds, but that was long enough to annoy him. The statue was thrown up into the air, and on its way down it made a sharp turn and came smashing into the glass at exact level with your eyes. You let out a small yelp, and finally his eyes slid over to meet you as he chuckled lowly.

“Well aren’t you a jumpy little pet.” Loki sat up slowly, turning to face you with no real hurry or actual interest apparent in his movement. He was dressed beautifully in different shades of black, grey, and a gorgeous green. Even though he had been trapped in here for weeks now, his hair was still combed perfectly and his eyes held a certain glint to them that made you question whether solitary confinement had been affecting him at all; surely it had to be, right?

Clearing your throat, you step forward slightly to hopefully show him you aren’t afraid of him or his abilities; even though that may not be the whole truth. “My name is Agent (y/l/n). I’m here to talk to you.” You look to him expectantly and it takes him a moment to react. He seems confused for only a split second before he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Well, if that’s all it appears you’ve already done it. You can leave now.” Loki makes a move to lie back down before you speak up.

“Wait! I mean I actually want to have a conversation with you. You know, get to know you.” There was no keeping the nervous look off of your face as you spoke. It wasn't a lie, you really did want to get to know the god and understand why he did the things he did. No one hurts people like that without reason; without having been hurt themselves. 

Slowly, he turns back to you. His face is unreadable as he walks over to stand in front of you and stares deep into your eyes from behind the glass. The urge to break eye contact with Loki is intense, but you know that giving in is exactly what he wants you to do. He’s trying to figure out if you’re worthy of his time and you need to prove that you are. After a lifetime of feeling him stare into the darkest crevices of your soul, he speaks.

“Why?” You don’t hesitate for even a fraction of a second before responding. “I want to understand. You did things that I could never have even imagined doing, and I think it’s important to know why.” 

His jaw became tense, features tightening as his eyebrows pulled together. “You, my pet, must have a very WEAK imagination.” His voice was harsh as he spit the words out at you. Turning away to pace, he once again shook his head while letting a low and humorless chuckle escape his lips. “No, you could never understand. How could a god ever even begin to explain the complexities of their actions to the measly mind of a midgardian child?” 

The comment bothered you only slightly, but you knew that you were losing him quickly. Loki apparently didn’t trust kindness; you suppose that’s something you both kind of have in common. You were basically raised by Fury and Clint, and although you had kept up a sense of outward positivity, there was a deep underlying feeling that you really could not trust anyone but those two men. Kindness always came at a cost and you knew that you wouldn’t trust yourself either if you were in Loki’s position, so you decide to take another approach. 

“Look, they never let me out of this tower either so I’m just as bored, if not more so, than you are. The way I see it, you can honor me with your company every once in a while and keep a child entertained, or you can tell me to leave again. I’d hate to be a bother, so if it’s that draining on you I will gladly find someone else to talk to. You were my first choice, not my last resort.” Letting out a little breath, you wait for his response eagerly. It took a few minutes and you were nearly ready to leave, but Loki finally spoke up.

“Are you doing this for them?” The fact that he refused to look at you while speaking did not go unnoticed by you. “S.H.I.E.L.D would never trust me to do something like that. Like I said, they don’t even trust me enough to let me go out into the field.” It wasn’t a lie in entirety. The agency found you to be too sympathetic for field missions and refused to test your loyalty to orders. Fury was the one who trusted you and, seeing as he himself wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D, you were telling the truth. 

Loki put his hand up to his face, giving a pondering look through his gesture. Suddenly he turned to look at you with a dazzling smile gracing his features. You saw something shimmering in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite tell whether it was friendly or not. “It seems pet, that we have something very interesting in common then.” The look he gave you set you on edge, yet you wouldn’t dare look away in fear that it would disappear. He scared you, but you never felt a desire stronger than the one you currently felt to be afraid. 

“It seems we do.” The small lift at the corner of your lips was instinctual. You didn’t even notice that you were doing it, but Loki most certainly did. Making his way back to stand before you, his eyes meet your form and take you in for the first time. Loki was a fair amount taller than you, so you found yourself looking up to meet his gaze as his own skims over you from head to toe. The height difference was something that he would surely be taking advantage of to make you feel even more like the child he thought you to be. 

“Pray tell pet, what is your name?” He finished looking you over and now received your stare fervently. He enjoyed being looked at; he found thrill in being a spectacle and you could feel it. If he wanted to be seen, you would make damn sure that you saw him. 

“My name is (y/n). And, for the record, I’m far from being a child.” His smile grew even wider at that, and his hand came up to gently run his fingers down the glass that separates you. For some reason, you almost felt as though you wished it weren’t there. 

“I can guarantee that no matter how old you may be (y/n), it pales in comparison to the length of the lives I have lived. You couldn’t fathom the things I have seen, and most certainly not the things I have done ” The words were almost solemn, in a way perhaps reflective. There was no way for you to even begin to comprehend the existence he had experienced firsthand, but your fascination and hunger to try burned through your body like the flames of a wildfire. He drew you in like a moth to candlelight, and you let him. “Tell me about them.”

Your comm went off at that moment, Fury’s voice filling the empty halls with a loud crackling. “Agent (y/l/n), I need you on the training deck right fucking now.” The loud noise startled you out of the trance like state you had been in, and you fumble around to quickly answer. “Be right there, sir.” As you let go of the button that allowed Fury to hear your voice, you look back to Loki. He was already laying back on his bed, lazily flipping through a book as though you were not even there. You hadn’t even seen him move. Unsure of whether or not to he wished to speak any further for now, you nod your head slowly and look away. “I’ll be back tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Just as at the start of your conversation, he did not respond immediately. You were cursing Fury in your head for breaking the connection you felt you had been growing with the god, but just as you began to leave he called after you.

“I would yearn for nothing more, pet.”

__________________

Tags: @adefectivedetective @rebeka672-blog @peachlobotomy666 @heeheeoof @unfortunatelyymuggle @st6jimmyandtheidiots @gorgeous1974 @cheydanoa @thenerdyniallgirl @jessalynjones1989 @miklsnvengers @lunala-luvgood @floweaus @bugalouie @fangirltrash15 @crimsonloki133@bandsruinedmylife @mydelusionalworld-7 @uada-animus @randomfangirl7 @effmigentlywithachainsaw @drakesfiance @phantomr0se @artspike @mishaissocoollike @letscici @strangemaximoff @zuurbekje @puppens101 @magi-no-aladdin @littlesouthernrebel @jessiejunebug @coppercorn-and-cauldron @orighami @wrappedinlokisarms @dark-night-sky-99​

i hope thats everyone, but if i missed you please let me know! Im still new to this and constantly make mistakes lol

(message me to be added to my tom list!)

A/N: Requests are still being filled by the way! I’ll also try to get one-shot stories out in between these chapters, so stay tuned for that (: Let me know what yall thought of this, and have a wonderful day/night/evening <3

[xyfanficarchive]

Coldcolor (1)

Pairing: DBH RK900 x Reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol mention, future violence, angst

Summary: The android revolution is dead, and the Detroit is picking up the pieces. Life is grey and uneventful for the reader in the aftermath, despite their hand in quelling the revolution. All until a ghost from their (recent) past turns up beside their desk, and a new case reveals that deviancy may not be quite as gone as the country thought.

Word Count: 3516

Author’s Note: YEEEEHAW its here!!! the beginning of my fic for @connorshero‘s 1.1k milestone!!!!! this was gonna be a oneshot but - damn ive got too many ideas for this racked up from all the time i took getting down to writing it that i just did not want to leave out. i ended up writing this first part, but i’m gonna have to do some srs planning for this in the next little while. i hope you all enjoy!!! as always, any feedback is very very much appreciated!! AS A NOTE: we call nines “connor” in this one cause rk800 connor is like,,, dead :( and theres no need to differentiate between the two

Prompt: “Oh, I hate you. I hate you… because if I didn’t… then I’d love you. And love— it’s a weakness, and I’ll never be weak again.”

It only took a few weeks for the country to begin picking itself back up. The androids had tried to stage a revolution – and failed, and the government was swift in (exterminating? recycling?) the remaining androids. Deviant or not. Not a single blue-blooded… entity that had been activated prior to a certain point was spared the wrath of the United States’ fearful, powerful government body.

You’d have liked to say you were conflicted. It would be easier than admitting the direct, unambiguous crushing guilt you felt. But try as you might, you couldn’t. From the moment you felt close enough to Hank to weigh in on something so personal, you’d encouraged him to stop drinking, but now you understood on some level.

Detroit focused on learning how to sweep streets and collect garbage using flesh-and-blood human labour again, however temporarily. But you wafted through the weeks aimlessly, without direction, now the 7th precinct’s android specialist without any androids to specialize in. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t found comfort in the bottom of a bottle on occasion, on the nights it was especially bad.

Oh, and then he came back.

Like a spectre from the grave of your recent past, but he was taller – maybe? He was nonetheless more towering, more imposing in his high collar and high contrast white and black jacket. His features were sharper somehow, although they were so painfully, painfully the same. The same smattering of spots, dots and freckles across his face. The same jawline, the same divot in the centre of his chin. The same rogue lock of brown hair, escaping from his swept back style to flop out onto his forehead.

You were infuriated. The sight of him standing amongst the desks – stiff and unmoving with his hands clasped nearly behind his back. unfazed by anything, made the bile rise in your throat, a sick dizziness spinning behind your eyes. You didn’t know whether it was because he had the audacity to come back, or that he came back as this – this “RK900”, this facsimile, this shitty copy of what Connor was.

His eyes were grey. Cold. Like Cyberlife wasn’t even trying to hide his frigid, machine nature behind the facade of those soft, deep browns anymore.

You pursed your lips and shifted your posture (whether consciously or not) to be more guarded as you approached. Of course, as some sick stroke of fate, it was your desk he was waiting oh-so statuelike next to. You hadn’t said a word as you walked up before he spoke:

“Good morning, Detective L/N. My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”

Your eyes slipped closed for a second, a half smile on your face as you let out a fast huff of air through you nose - but there was no mirth in the expression. You opened your eyes again and directed your gaze back up to his eyes, intending to look neutral, unaffected, even though you knew your face was betraying the hotness in your blood.

“Oh, are you?” You said, and pressed your lips into a line, looking away from his eyes and just past his shoulder, still trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

“Yes, I have - “

“That’s nice,” you interrupted, still pointedly not looking at him. You noticed the ring on his temple flash yellow for a single moment, and when it settled back on blue he tilted his head just the slightest in question. “That you’re Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife, I mean.”

He paused for a breath, and continued, seemingly unable to come up with a response to that. “Yes. I have been assigned to assist you.”

“Well, that’s great isn’t it?” you said, turning your back to him as you shrugged off your bag and heavy winter jacket, and fixed your desk for the day. And when you swung back around to face him, he was still standing just the same as he had been when you walked in. You looked him over, sucking your teeth before a corner of your mouth pulled back and you spoke.

“Well I’ve got to, uh, go and meet with Captain Fowler. You can wait here I guess,” you muttered before you looked down to the floor and moved past the android, careful to give him a wide berth.

You were tense. You were tense as your feet carried you quick to Fowler’s office, and as you made your way up the short set of stairs, and as you rapped fast and short on the glass door, waiting for the OK to come in. When he motioned for you to enter and you stood in front of his desk, you tried not to tremble as you jabbed your finger out in the direction of the open office.

“All - all due respect, sir but what,” you were straining to contain your voice as you thrust your outstretched index finger towards Connor for emphasis. “is... What is that? What’s going on with that whole situation?”

For a moment, he ignored you as he continued to read the file he had held up in front of him. He laid it flat on the desk and looked up at you. "That is your partner."

"I..." You shook your head. "Captain Fowler, you know I never make demands or requests of any kind. But I - I do not need, or want, to have... A partner, not when it's him." Your voice was low but insistent, bordering on desperate.

Fowler shrugged his shoulders. "Nobody else would take it, Y/N. Hell, Reed threatened to turn his gun and badge in when I tried to assign this thing to him." His eyebrows drew together as he gestured towards you. "I thought you liked androids!"

Your voice was raising, just slightly, a nervous tightness in your gut forming. It was risky to contest against your superior so insistently but - maybe you were being irrational. But you couldn't stop yourself. "Not - not this one - please, please believe me when I say it won't go over well. It won't work, sir -"

"Listen, Y/N,” he shifted to lean back in his seat, “we are literally being paid to put this thing to use. These RK900s have been shipped out across the whole country as part of a plan to clean up the public opinion on androids." He leaned forward again, elbows on his desk. "Cyberlife is putting their ass on the line here. They've gifted the DPD a sizeable amount of money in exchange for our cooperation in showing the public that androids and humans can work together, and that androids can be trusted in public service."

You closed your eyes, voice strained as you tried to convey your desperation. "Please! You don't understand! I never ask for anything, Captain, you know that! But this is a deeply personal, deeply emotional issue -"

"Yeah! I know! The whole goddamn station saw you getting all fuckin' moony-eyed over the last android detective we got sent! But for Christ sake, you're an adult, Y/N! It's an android! Deal with whatever issues you have! This thing has to go somewhere, somewhere it's going to be seen, and I'm not changing my decision. Now if you're done here, you can get out and get to work, before I start writing you up for this bullshit!" he shouted, and pointed to the door.

You sucked in a sharp breath, readying yourself to say more, but you had nothing else. So you just turned tail and left his office.

Connor looked over from across the room, silently observing behind those grey irises with eyebrows slightly raised. You narrowed your eyes, suddenly feeling stifled as the question of what you were going to do? spun around inside your head and all the emotions; the anger and the despair and the grief swelled within you. When you realized your face had twisted up into a red-cheeked, teary-eyed scowl, you turned and hurried to the washroom, cursing yourself the whole way for being unable to contain yourself.

In all truth, you had never expected to have to deal with this particular... issue again. Connor - the old Connor, RK800, had completed his mission; shot the android leader Markus dead, quelling the revolution, and was promptly recalled back to Cyberlife anyways. Without him existing in the world as a constant reminder you took all the feelings, the pain, and the shame, and the affection, and locked them away, neatly compartmentalized where you wouldn’t have to deal with them. But now he was back, or, at least someone was here, someone with his face and his name, someone who was daring to set it all bursting forth.

In front of the mirror, you grit your teeth, looking into the bloodshot eyes staring back. You ran the tap cold and splashed your face, and tried to prevent yourself from crying, although a few rebellious tears escaped and slid down your cheeks.

The thought of working with him repulsed you. Your mind was racing trying to come up with ways to relinquish Connor from your care, to convince Fowler to reassign him. But the reality of it all, was that you allowed yourself to be emotionally manipulated by an android. You let Connor get under your skin and convince you that somewhere, deep inside, he cared, he wanted you and your affections. You let him influence you to do things you didn’t want to do. Or not do things you wanted to. And in the end? Had Connor not pulled you close enough to stop you, you would have tried your damnedest to hinder the investigation and allow the androids to win their freedom.

There was no justifying that to anyone.

——————

The first week was difficult - like pulling teeth. The sight of him every day, standing at your desk and waiting ever so... patiently (patiently? Could you call it patience?) made your insides tense up, and your chest constrict beneath your sagging shoulders. Something screamed “wrong” in your gut every time you found yourself and your actions set underneath the gaze of his grey eyes, ever observing. Though he was carefully programmed not to seem it, you knew him well enough to know he was always, always watching, always analyzing.

It took only a weekend to resign yourself to your fate. Though you didn’t like it, you would tolerate him. You would have to. Fowler had set his foot down; as much as you hated to admit it, the struggle was over before it even begun.

It’s not like Connor wasn’t amiable enough. This new Connor was more terse, somehow more oblivious (scaled back social protocols?), but never explicitly rude. He was not difficult to work with on an interpersonal level. That's why you had to be so cautious around him. Connor was as charming as he was clever and cunning, with a way of infecting you, getting deep underneath your skin.

At the very least, he was good at what he was built for. He certainly wouldn't be bogging down your efforts from day-to-day. It would be useful to have him around.

As much as you tried to tell yourself you were lucky to have such an incredible investigator as your assistant and your assistant alone, you couldn't help the way you tensed when he was near, how you averted your eyes from his form whenever he crossed your line of sight. From the start, you could tell it would be a tense partnership. You didn't expect it to be harmonious in any way but it was difficult to balance caution and cooperation in working with him. What price would you have to pay to work totally smoothly with your partner? What price would you have to pay to be completely careful?

It wasn't an issue before. With Connor - RK800 - you had no worries. You gelled with him instantly, and even Hank came around pretty quick. The old adage of "ignorance is bliss" rang true; it was so easy, so simple to work on the deviancy case when you were convinced there was some feeling within him, some humanity imparted unto him inside his programming that you could relate yourself to. But there wasn't. Connor was just a machine, a master of manipulation.

Hank wanted a son; Connor played the part. You wanted a... companion. You wanted to feel l o v e d wanted, and Connor only danced to your tune.

It didn't matter too much for the first couple weeks of your partnership. Cases were small and slow to come in. The city and its residents were still re-learning what to do with themselves when androids just weren't so widespread anymore.

There was, however, an uptick in red ice related crimes come December. A lack of androids meant a lack of blue blood meant a lack of thirium meant a lack of red ice. Everyone was starting to get desperate, from the addicts desperate for a fix to the drug lords desperate to make their bottom line.

The first murders came to you and Connor on a leisurely morning at the precinct. The bullpen was illuminated with a light, white and warming in the way only winter brings; the sun was beholden to noone's emotional state and for a moment you were turned from your seemingly unending pessimism and discomfort as you strolled into work, coffee in hand. You were greeted by Chris Miller, and Tina Chen. And then you were greeted by Connor, as script-like as ever:

"Good morning, Detective L/N."

"Connor," you said, brief, as you took a sip from your coffee, not looking at him as he stepped out from the dock against the wall and begun to follow you.

"Is there any way I can be of assistance today?" he asked, insistent. This Connor was always a little forceful in tone, but it wasn't too much of an issue for you.

"Mmmm, likely not. Today's just paperwork. Which must, unfortunately, be filled out by a human. Else I would definitely have some work for you," you smirked to yourself, back facing the android as you came to your desk and set your bag down. You looked over your shoulder at him towering behind you. "You can - " there was a marked discomfort in your next words, " - return to your... dock." Something always felt off about that concept.

"Understood," he said, and promptly tuned right back around. You heard the clicking of his shoes against the tile as he retreated from you and you settled yourself at your desk. About an hour of half-working in the relaxation of the morning had passed before Captain Fowler leaned out his door and called to you.

"Y/N! I've got a case for you!" You turned to your head, looking up at him standing half outside the raised glass cube that was his office as he motioned for you to come and turned immediately back in to sit down at his own desk.

You nodded to yourself and stood up, taking the last sip from your mug before you set it down, empty, onto the desk surface and made your way to his office. You turned back around to look at Connor following you and -

He wasn't following you. He was still standing in his little dock cubicle staring straight ahead, completely neutral in expression and posture. You quirked an eyebrow.

"Connor!" You called out to him, and he turned his head towards you, stepping away from the wall one pace. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but seeing as though you're my partner it may be beneficial for you to come and sit in while Fowler tells us about this case," you raise your eyebrows and tilted your head as your hand swooped out to beckon him forward.

"Right. I'm coming." You nodded, the corners of your lips drawing outwards as you continued on your initial path. He followed shortly behind as you made your way up the stairs and into Fowler's office. You sat down in a chair in front of his desk and Connor simply stood, hands clasped behind his back.

"Double homicide," Fowler said curtly after a moment. "I've sent the details to your terminal. We just got the call about two hours ago. The witness was walking her daughter to school when she heard shouting from inside a house on her way. She heard a gunshot come from inside and saw someone leave the scene out the front door, but was too busy fleeing herself with her daughter to get a good look."

"Seems a little early in the morning to be killing people," you mused, leaning back into your seat.

Drawing in a deep breath, he continued. “When our guys got there they found two victims. One stabbed in the neck, the other was shot through the heart. Again, not many details on the guy who ran, but he’s looking to be our prime suspect here.” You nodded along as he explained.

"Is there any information on the identities and backgrounds of the victims?" Connor chimed in.

"There wasn't much identifying information to be found inside the house. We're still waiting for a facial recognition or DNA match to come back," Fowler said. "The address is in the file I sent. Take the android and go have a look, see what you can find out."

"Can do, sir. We'll do out best," you gave a pleasing smile as your stood.

"I know you will. Dismissed," he said, looking up at you and nodding. You turned and exited the office. Connor followed suit. (The old Connor had a habit of lingering in Fowler's office, much to the annoyance of your boss.)

And, well, you couldn't help but to smile a little as you made your way back to your desk. It was exciting, in a way - a little intellectual stimulation to break you out of the rut these past few weeks had you in.

"What are you grinning about coming outta Fowler's office?" You heard a voice, low and gruff call out to you from across the room as you packed your things at your desk. You turned around and held your hands out at your sides.

"Double homicide, my dear Lieutenant!" you beamed at Hank's approaching figure.

"Ah, I see, murder makes us happy now," he said with a joking skepticism as he gazed down at you past the tip of his nose, face tilted slightly up.

"Not the murders, Hank. The case. Could be interesting," you said with a pause, shrugging your packed bag onto one shoulder and crossing your arms as he came to stand in front of you. "You know none of us have had a good case in weeks. Besides, you would be smiling too if your alternative was - " you jabbed your thumb blindly behind you at the terminal on your desk. " - a damn mountain of paperwork.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You're right. It's only a shame that -" he cut off, and his voice dropped a little lower. "Shame you gotta work with him," he said, thrusting his face forward for a split second over your shoulder. You turned around and Connor was standing behind you in the sun. His eyes, for a fraction of a second narrowed as his LED blinked yellow before settling back on blue. He looked over at Hank.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Anderson," he greeted. Always the same tone every time, so precisely neutral and pleasant. Your nose scrunched up as you turned back to face Hank, looking down at your feet.

"Yeah... Morning." he muttered under his breath.

You inhaled sharply. "Well, you know I won't let him hold me back," you smiled apologetically up at him. "Besides, he's good, you and I both know that, unfortunately... Makes him worth having around," you chuckled, and both of you paused for a beat before you reached out and patted the side of his arm.

"We should get going," you sighed. "I'll see you around, yeah?" You moved past him and turn back to walk backwards a few steps.

"Yeah. I'll see ya, Y/N." He and Connor nodded awkwardly at each other as Connor began to follow you.

When you were outside, and standing in the cold, you pulled out your phone and called for a taxi on the app.

"Where are we headed, Detective?" he inquired.

"Someplace called uh, Glengrove Boulevard. New development, if I remember rightly. Nice neighborhood."

"Understood."

You pursed your lips at the abrupt end. Connor, the old Connor, always had a way of filling the silence. Sure, he may have been only gathering information, but it was never awkward, there were no silences hanging in the air like dead weight with him.

It didn't take long for the automated cab to come. When the doors slid open, you turned to Connor, looking into his grey eyes, and gestured your hand towards the vehicle in offerance with raised eyebrows and a tight-lipped smile.

"After you."

[theparaminds]

It’s not as though Natalie Green knew what this year held in store or what would exist at the end of the road. Though, at every step of the way, he kept going. Embodied in both his music and his story of perseverance, is a rare example of an artistic soul that found peace where few would ever dream to look. It took months of learning and continued questioning of himself and what he wanted to be. But in the end, it resulted in a man anew.

With a new project taking shape in studio sessions that contrast his earlier life, Natalie Green is finding a voice he previously was nervous to share, speaking louder than before. The ideas, memoirs and anxieties he hopes to express have become clear. With every note, he continually finds himself as much as he does connect to those who battle the same confusions.

Natalie Green now stands with a new asset he hadn’t held prior, the ability to embark on the path he wants, not the one life throws him upon. He can stand and become the artist he visualizes, the artist he knows is essential to reveal to the world. For the first time in a while, Natalie Green is in control, with a steering wheel in hand and a road of possibility on the horizon.

Our first question as always, how’s your day going and how are you?

Things have been hectic, but good. Good busy you know? There are different kinds of busy and this one has been all positive.

On your last EP last year, it sounded like you weren’t fully at peace, do you find that you are now after a year of personal introspection?

Yeah for sure, when I was writing the EP, I was in a really terrible place physically, emotionally and mentally. It was a passion project when it came out, I didn’t have to think about it. Whereas now, I’ve got a place, I’m not just in my car anymore, I emotionally feel a lot more centered, I have my head on straight. I’ve found friends and people that I love to surround myself with. Everything’s been a thousand times better.

When you’re looking within this shift you’ve undertaken, where do you think you’ve personally grown the most, whether artistically or as an individual?

I think I’ve gotten more empathetic towards people. All people. As well, I feel more self-aware. What I realized when living in my car was that I didn’t know myself. Living in a house again with roommates made me, in a new way, learn more about myself, and where I needed to spend a lot of time mentally. As far as musically, I feel more confident, I think that’s apparent in my vocals and instrumentation, they’re far more personal in that sense.

With the new year in season, being a time of reflecting upon the past year, do you have any memories that stick out to you as positive through the difficult and turbulent times?

There’s a lot. I don’t know if there’s one specific moment, but definitely moving into the apartment. I also got to play a private show in my friend’s backyard for all my close friends. That was a big moment for me. There’s a lot of moments where I had friends reassure me, and believe in me when I wasn’t doing so myself. One of my best friends from back home came to live here a little while ago, that was really special to have him back. The whole tour with Roy, of course, was inspiring, to see him do all that and becoming closer to everyone I went on tour with will forever be in my memories.

With that tour, and even more so working on Cat Heaven, happening while you were working on your own projects, did they influence the way you approached your new work?

There are certain things I learn from other people I can implement in my own music later. There will be something I’ll figure out while I’m working with someone, be it a sound or a new style, I can kinda pull out later. A lot of it is just talking to others and learning their inspirations and how that reflects in their music. Then turning and comparing that to my own influences and seeing how I do the same. It’s all just inspiration.

To touch on that idea of inspiration, you’ve mentioned in the past how you have a wide range on influences in your life in terms on music, but in the last year, which artists have really been influencing the work you’re putting out?

There’s been a lot of really great artists I just got into this past year-ish, but a big one is Michelle Zauner, who’s the singer for Japanese Breakfast. I’m hugely inspired by her, the fact she directs her own music videos and does all her own creative output, it’s really amazing. I’ve also loved the movies of Michel Gondry and the writing of Charlie Kaufman, anything they work on is amazing and so intoxicating.

With this new album you’re ramping up to release, has there been a difference in approach to how you wrote songs and lyrics? And how does that process look like?

I mean it’s been different for almost every song, I tried to do the album the same way I did the EP, and it wasn’t working right. Every song I wrote just felt lacklustre or the same. So to change it up, I had to change my methods, like the first song I wrote, I did two guitar parts first and then I sang, then produced over. That is very different to the EP which was songs first then lyrics. There are certain songs where before I recorded, I had a guitar riff and just wrote the song in a very traditional way, just chords and singing. Maybe loops would be first at times, and then they’d be built off of. Everything has been different.

It’s interesting because it sounds like you’ve really been adding more to your skill set as an artist, would you say that if you had a tool belt of music, that you’ve been adding towards it in the last while?

Yeah, definitely. I’ve been doing that my whole life honestly. I started in bands, not knowing how to produce or anything, but I could play guitar and from then I learned the bass just to add of that. Then I learned production, and that is forever useful. Now I’m working more to be an artist and learn what that entails and requires. Every time I learn something new I really take that and hold onto it until needed.

If you could create your ideal music creation space, where would it be and how would it look like?

That’s interesting, It would really just need to be a secluded place. A place I could disappear and a place I could be as loud as I want as late as I want. No interruptions, all the equipment I needed. Some food, drinks and a bathroom, that’s all I need.

Over the year you’ve posted some concerts you went to, like Paramore in the summer. Are there other shows you saw live that really had an impact upon you and maybe changed the way you approach live shows yourself?

Well, of course, the tour with Roy, he’s been super inspiring in general and watching the man work is amazing. He has a lot of fantastic ideas and he goes through with them. I saw Daisy as well, and they’re so good live. Solange was also amazing with her stage design and her choreography. I also saw Soccer Mommy pretty recently, and it wasn’t too extravagant but it was so well done and exciting to see as a fan of the music.

When you’re on stage, even something like the backyard show you mentioned earlier, what’s the emotion you’re trying to achieve and what is the mindset that you find yourself within at that moment?

When I played that private show, I realized all my songs were pretty mellow and hard to dance or move to. All except for Beachwood didn’t translate very well. So with this new project, I want them to translate really well live, to feel energetic, to feel lively. The songs are just fun. But I keep that emotion in and make sure that I don’t lose what made the earlier work so special and important.

What’s been the overall message you’re trying to pursue this new work and what is it you’re hoping to convey?

I kinda just want to tell my story. Or a story of mine. If people learn things from that, its great, but I’m just saying what happened in my experience. What I realized is that there’s a lot of shitty things that happened to me in my life, but the truth is that things could be a lot worse, so far they’ve been pretty good for the most part. While I had those tough days, I’m still here kicking it.

I apologize if it’s a repeated question, but with the topic of your story, what’s the meaning behind the stage name you’ve taken upon yourself?

It is and it isn’t part of my story in a way. A big part of that choice was that I wanted to separate myself from my old name and work. I wanted this to be super new. The name is taken from two names of people I am very inspired by. And it also, to me, sounds like the quintessential hot girl from a high school, the girl in the coming of age movie they all go after.

If you had a message to artists out there who may find themselves in the same space as you have previously found yourself within, those who may feel as unsure, what would be your lesson to pass on?

I think it doesn’t matter if you’re as confident or as talented as you want to be, as long as you recognize what sounds good to you, just put out the song. It doesn’t matter if you think your voice was bad, just keep progressing as an artist. If you wait for that progression you’ll never put stuff out, you’ll never be happy. With whatever you have right now, just start putting something, anything, out.

Follow Natalie Green on Twitter and Instagram

Listen on Soundcloud and Spotify

All Photos by Guthrie King

[patriotsnet]

Why Some Republicans Are Feeling Shame

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-some-republicans-are-feeling-shame/

Why Some Republicans Are Feeling Shame

Who Are These People

Why some conservatives feel targeted by social media companies

Earlier this week, as the challenge by congressional Republicans of the choice of electors by six states loomed ahead of us, I shared with my spouse how miserably dispirited I had become as an American citizen. The realization weighed heavily on me that I have nothing in common with nearly half the electorate in this country: not my social values and attitudes; not my political beliefs and allegiances; not the value that my ethical sensibilities place on rationality, cooperation and the common good; not even my fundamental moral principles.

I cannot relate to these others, nor do I want to. I already know what they represent, and what they represent, I despise. I feel alienated from them. They make me feel that I am a stranger in my own homeland. I suppose the alienation felt is mutual between us. But I cannot reach out to them. Like addicts, they need to recognize and claim their own demons and crawl away from them. Neither I nor anybody else can do that for them. This may be a harsh and uncharitable comparison. But I would be dishonest with myself to think and to say otherwise.;

Steven Pokorny, Urbandale

Senate Republicans Are Bathed In Shame

Theres no impartial justice, just protection of Trump at all costs.

By Frank Bruni

Opinion Columnist

The impeachment trial of Donald John Trump began on Thursday when John Roberts, the chief justice of the United States, directed all of the senators to stand and raise their right hands. Ever since I cant get two questions out of my head.

The first: How in Gods name and it was in Gods name can the Republicans who have already decided to acquit President Trump take a solemn oath to administer impartial justice? Theyre partial to the core, unabashedly so, as their united march toward a foregone conclusion shows. A mind-meld this ironclad isnt a reflection of facts. Its a triumph of factionalism.

The majority of the partys senators have said outright or clearly signaled that they have no intention of finding the president guilty and removing him from office. Yapping lap dogs like Lindsey Graham and obedient manservants like Mitch McConnell have gone further, mocking the whole impeachment process.

So the oath they took: How does that work? Did they cross the fingers on their left hands? Do they reason that American politics has reached a nadir of such fundamental hypocrisy and overweening partisanship that no one regards that pledge as anything but window dressing?

If there were nothing to this, why would Trump stonewall Congress to the extent that he has? Thats not how the innocent act.

A pathological liar, Cruz called Trump.

What To Watch For

It is highly unlikely Cruz or Hawley will resign or be forced out, but their political prospects both within and outside the senate appeared to have dimmed. In addition to alienating possible donors, one anonymous Republican senator told Politico the caucus would face a reckoning over Hawley and Cruz.

Also Check: How Many Republicans Are There In The Senate

Think Republicans Are Disconnected From Reality It’s Even Worse Among Liberals

A new survey found Democrats live with less political diversity despite being more tolerant of it with startling results

In a surprising new national survey, members of each major American political party were asked what they imagined to be the beliefs held by members of the other. The survey asked Democrats: How many Republicans believe that racism is still a problem in America today? Democrats guessed 50%. Its actually 79%. The survey asked Republicans how many Democrats believe most police are bad people. Republicans estimated half; its really 15%.

The survey, published by the thinktank More in Common as part of its Hidden Tribes of America project, was based on a sample of more than 2,000 people. One of the studys findings: the wilder a persons guess as to what the other party is thinking, the more likely they are to also personally disparage members of the opposite party as mean, selfish or bad. Not only do the two parties diverge on a great many issues, they also disagree on what they disagree on.

This effect, the report says, is so strong that Democrats without a high school diploma are three times more accurate than those with a postgraduate degree. And the more politically engaged a person is, the greater the distortion.

Should the US participate in the Paris climate accord and reduce greenhouse gas emissions regardless of what other countries do? A majority of voters in both parties said yes.

Our Very Right To Vote Under Fire

The foundation of the American democracy is the absolute right of the people to choose their own leaders through the ballot box. Historians label this the sovereignty of the people. We are our own authority, in the decision-making process of the state and in the maintenance of order.

This absolute right of the people is under severe attack. Many of our fellow citizens believe that votes legitimately cast and counted are illegitimate. I do not know how or even if we will return to a culture of trust in the sovereignty of the people, and if we cannot go back, how will American democracy survive?

;Karen Merrick, Guttenberg

Recommended Reading: Why Do Republicans Still Back Trump

Hes Destroyed Conservatism: The Republican Case Against Trumps Gop

Stuart Stevens was a winning GOP operative. Now he feels terrible about what hes done to the country.

AP Photo/Patrick Semansky

Link Copied

Michael Grunwald is a senior staff writer for;Politico Magazine.

Stuart Stevens spent four decades helping Republicansa lot of Republicanswin. Hes one of the most successful political operatives of his generation, crafting ads and devising strategies for President George W. Bush, Republican presidential nominees Mitt Romney and Bob Dole, and dozens of GOP governors, senators and congressmen. He didnt win every race, but he thinks he had the best won-lost record in Republican campaign world.

And now he feels terrible about it.

Stevens now believes the Republican Party is, not to put too fine a point on it, a malign force jeopardizing the survival of American democracy. Hes written a searing apologia of a book called It Was All a Lie that compares his lifelong party to the Mafia, to Bernie Madoffs fraud scheme, to the segregationist movement, even to the Nazis. Hes pretty disillusioned.

It Was All a Lie is really about the party that spawned Trump and now marches in near-lockstep behind himthe party to which 67-year-old Stevens has devoted his career. The GOPs abject surrender to its unorthodox and unconservative leader was a surprise to Stevens, but he has concluded that he shouldnt have been surprised.

Aboard Mitt Romney’s campaign plane in Sept. 2012, senior adviser Stuart Stevens speaks to the press. | AP Photo/Evan Vucci

Hart Is Doing The Right Thing

I know Rita Hart personally and in my experience, she is the kind of person who is always trying to do the right thing, even if its difficult and an uphill battle.

Hart would likely win if just the uncounted 22 ballots were counted, but she is going a step further to ensure everyone can be confident in the election outcome by asking for a full recount. In a situation like this, a bipartisan commission in the U.S. House will likely ask the nonpartisan Government Accountability Office to conduct the recount so we can trust that politics will not interfere with the review of the election.

It is commendable that Hart is fighting to protect our sacred right to vote and the trustworthiness of our elections. Every vote must be counted to ensure Iowans continue to have confidence in their election system. Count every vote

;Maria Dickmann, Davenport

Also Check: How Many Registered Republicans In Illinois

Executive Action Is A Slippery Slope

The rationale given by the editorial board Jan. 3 to have Joe Biden issue executive orders to undo Donald Trumps executive orders is that some issues are too important to just wait for Congress. ;

Im sure this was the belief of Barack Obama when he issued his orders and the belief of Trump when he issued his orders. In other words, this rationale could be employed by any president at any time and it poses a real danger to the separation of legislative power and executive power provided by the U.S. Constitution. ;

Do the board members really want to combine these powers in the office of the presidency ?

Lonny Wilson,;West Des Moines

Democrats Werent Violent But Chose A Different Dishonorable Path

Why Do We Feel Shame?

I agree with the Jan. 7 letter Shame, shame, with the closing statement, This is one of the saddest days in our history.

And yes, when Trump won in 2016 there was no mob violence by Democrats. There was just four years of disbelief by the Democrats that Trump won and four years of trying to impeach him.

William D. Blohm, Carroll

Read Also: Who Makes More Money Democrats Or Republicans

Why Some Republicans Are Feeling Shame

Back in the fall, when Donald Trump dubbed Jeb Bush low-energy, Carlos Gimenez grew a little concerned. By last month, when Marco Rubio and Trump engaged in childish name-calling, the Republican mayor of Miami-Dade County thought the GOP presidential race had gotten out of hand. Now, after a tawdry week that has focused on the wives of Trump and Ted Cruz, Gimenez is certain that the race has moved totally out of bounds.

Politics is a contact sport, Gimenez said, but there should be contact in other ways.

Gimenez is watching with disgust, as are many Republicans across the country, as his partys presidential race turns into a tabloid talk show. After a winter that featured anatomical insults, violent clashes at rallies, and fierce accusations of lying and dirty tricks, Republicans say the past week has been particularly dispiriting.

At a moment when the party had hoped to turn its attention to;a general-election matchup against Hillary Clinton, Republicans were instead caught in;an;uncomfortable back-and-forth over allegations of adultery and jabs at the physical appearance of the wives of Trump and Cruz.

That dispute took on renewed vigor Sunday, when the two candidates went at it again on the morning shows.

Dont forget, I call him Lying Ted. I call him that because nobody that Ive known Ive known a lot tougher people over the years in business, but Ive never known anybody that lied like Ted Cruz, Trump said.

Republicans Said President Obama Would Raise Taxes Sky High

It never happened. Income taxes for over 95% of Americans remained the same or lower than they were before Obama was elected. The only people whose income taxes increased were those who make more than $400,000 per year, and their taxes rose only 3%. For most Americans, taxes are still lower now than they were under Reagan.

Don’t Miss: Can Republicans Vote In The Democratic Primary In South Carolina

Conflict Over Health Vs The Economy

Masks are also linked to the broader debate about the disease threat from the coronavirus versus and the devastating impact that social distancing has had on our economy. This controversy again has fallen out on political lines, with the right placing a relatively greater emphasis than the left on the need to restart the economy.

Within this debate, some may see masks as playing up the disease side of this balancing act, while those who don’t wear masks might be seen as prioritizing a swift return to normalcy over concerns about health and safety.

Why Republican Voters Say Theres No Way In Hell Trump Lost

By Brad Brooks, Nathan Layne, Tim Reid

12 Min Read

SUNDOWN, Texas – Brett Fryar is a middle-class Republican. A 50-year-old chiropractor in this west Texas town, he owns a small business. He has two undergraduate degrees and a masters degree, in organic chemistry. He attends Southcrest Baptist Church in nearby Lubbock.

Fryar didnt much like Donald Trump at first, during the U.S. presidents 2016 campaign. He voted for Texas Senator Ted Cruz in the Republican primaries.

Now, Fryar says he would go to war for Trump. He has joined the newly formed South Plains Patriots, a group of a few hundred members that includes a reactionary force of about three dozen – including Fryar and his son, Caleb – who conduct firearms training.

Nothing will convince Fryar and many others here in Sundown – including the towns mayor, another Patriots member – that Democrat Joe Biden won the Nov. 3 presidential election fairly. They believe Trumps stream of election-fraud allegations and say theyre preparing for the possibility of a civil war with the American political left.

If President Trump comes out and says: Guys, I have irrefutable proof of fraud, the courts wont listen, and Im now calling on Americans to take up arms, we would go, said Fryar, wearing a button-down shirt, pressed slacks and a paisley tie during a recent interview at his office.

This is dystopian, Light said. America could fracture.

THERES JUST NO WAY

NO WAY IN HELL

Recommended Reading: How Many Republicans Are Running For President

Republicans Said Waterboarding And Other Forms Of Enhanced Interrogation Are Not Torture And Are Necessary In Fighting Islamic Extremism

In reality, waterboarding and other forms of enhanced interrogation that inflict pain, suffering, or fear of death are outlawed by US law, the US Constitution, and international treaties. Japanese soldiers after World War II were prosecuted by the United States for war crimes because of their use of waterboarding on American POWs.

Professional interrogators have known for decades that torture is the most ineffective and unreliable method of getting accurate information. People being tortured say anything to get the torture to end but will not likely tell the truth.

An FBI interrogator named Ali Soufan was able to get al Qaeda terrorist Abu Zubaydah to reveal crucial information without the use of torture. When CIA interrogators started using waterboarding and other enhanced interrogation methods, Zubaydah stopped cooperating and gave his interrogators false information.

Far from being necessary in the fight against terrorism, torture is completely unreliable and counter-productive in obtaining useful information.

Shame Can Last A Lifetime If We Let It

Find a therapist near me

Shame is one of the hardest emotions to talk about. It can also be the hardest emotion to recognize in ourselves, and it can feel the most painful. So, what is shame and how do we know if were feeling it?

Shame is often confused with embarrassment or guilt. Embarrassment arises when the way we want people to see us isnt the way they do. We want people to think were cool, but then we walk out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to our shoe. The feeling usually doesnt last long. Guilt arises when we think weve broken societys or our own moral code. We feel guilty when we lie, for example. Guilt can last a long time, but we usually know that well feel better when we come clean.

Shame can last a lifetime if we let it. It isnt caused by a single event, but an amassing of wounds to our self-worth. We feel guilty when we think weve done something wrong and embarrassed or humiliated when weve erred in public. But we feel shame when we think we are wrong. We may feel powerless to change whatever it is that makes us feel it, which then leads us to feel even more of it. Shame can feel unfixable, because it binds to all emotions. So even when we feel good, we can feel shamelike we dont deserve it.

Its never too late. Love yourself and forgive yourself. Begin today.

Read Also: How Many Registered Republicans Are In The United States

Senator Grassley Was It Worth It

Dear Senator Grassley:

It was impossible to not see the events of Jan. 6 as inevitable.;Some in your Republican Party are assigning blame to the president, acknowledging the role he played. ;

The blame for the;insurrection, loss of life, and the tenuous state of our democracy lies elsewhere.;Truth be known, anyone paying attention knew who Mr. Donald Trump was, and remains: a lawless, narcissistic, racist, immoral, and corrupt human being.;More could be said. ;

Perhaps it is time for you to accept responsibility for the indisputable role you played in empowering this despot.;The examples of his malfeasance in office are legion. ;

You had a chance to put an end to;Trump’s tyranny when you cast your senatorial vote after House impeachment.;The evidence of his offense could not have been clearer,;ignored by you and everyone in your party,;save for Sen. Mitt Romney, your own former presidential nominee. ;

Repercussions of your cowardice, including the treatment of Lt. Col. Alexander Vindman, a whistle-blower, which you made a career off pretending to protect, are too numerous to count.;Your tepid statements supporting other whistle-blowers who were also subjected to vicious attacks, and the rarity of public admonitions of these and other wrongdoings, are a disgrace to your office. ;;

Nevertheless, you certainly have achieved what must have been foremost in your agenda.;You personally helped to pack the Supreme Court, and countless other lifetime appointments have been confirmed. ;

Republicans Claim That Raising The Minimum Wage Would Kill Jobs And Hurt The Economy

Why are Shame & Trauma so Connected?

There is far more evidence to the contrary. Cities and states that have higher minimum wages tend to have better rates of job creation and economic growth.

Detailed analyses show that job losses due to increases in the minimum wage are almost negligible compared to the economic benefits of higher wages. Previous increases in the minimum wage have never resulted in the dire consequences that Republicans have predicted.

Republicans have accused President Obama of “cutting defense spending to the bone”. This chart of 2014 discretionary spending firmly disproves that argument.

Also Check: How Many Senate Seats Do The Republicans Have Right Now

[willthoughtout-blog]

To bear in mind when criticising Israel

Today, there was a protest outside Parliament attacking anti-Semitism within the Labour party, and specifically anti-Semitism within Corbyn’s faction of the Labour party.

This marks an important moment. As far as I’m aware, protests against institutional anti-Semitism are rare within the UK. When we think of racism here, we tend to think of anti-black or Islamophobic racism, among others. What this protest shows is that something has changed.

At the core of the protest is this:

The protesters say there is pervasive anti-Semitism within the Corbyn-led faction of the Labour party that is now dominant.

The counter-protesters say this is a) politically motivated (MPs known to dislike Corbyn took part) and b) the party is not anti-Semitic, it simply criticises the Israeli government.

So I want to talk about this notion that is frequently repeated by people I often agree with on other matters - that it ‘isn’t anti-Semitic to criticise Israel’.

I understand the logic of this argument. I held it too, I think, in a vague way before I took more interest in the topic. My first protest was a pro-Palestine, anti-Israel protest (my friend, who was more into it, dragged me along - I didn’t know the first thing about the situation to be honest).

So I understand the logic of those attacking the anti-Semitism protesters. But I disagree. I don’t think saying ‘it isn’t anti-Semitic to criticise Israel’ is good enough. This is for a number of reasons. Firstly, because it is often false - it ignores the fact that many who criticise Israel are anti-Semitic, especially within these groups Corbyn associates with. And secondly, because there are massive consequences of such a casual attitude to anti-Semitism - this racism is on the rise in UK politics, in large part because of these groups. And, to be honest, I’m not a massive fan of increasing racism.

The UK left, and anti-Semitism

There seems to me to be 2 potential reasons why someone might criticise the current Israeli government:

Genuine disgust for the crimes committed by the Israeli government (I share this opinion)

Hatred for Jewish people (because of Israel’s status as a Jewish state)

The UK left has been massively focused on the Israel-Palestine conflict for years now. Unfortunately, I think this is a meshing of the 2 reasons above, rather than a pure governmental critique.

The evidence for this is not hard to find.

Corbyn, for example, has campaigned in many pro-Palestine groups and events that I’m sure are perfectly well-intentioned. He has, however, supported groups strongly linked to Holocaust deniers. The latest controversy, which sparked today’s protests, were about the following mural:

This is so blatantly filled with anti-Semitic tropes, it’s difficult to even know where to start. The rich bankers, the large noses, the Illuminati conspiracy triangle. And the controversy is that Corbyn defended the artist who designed this, when he said it was being removed.

Another prominent leader of this group is Ken Livingstone (former 2-term Labour Mayor of London), a close ally of Corbyn’s. He’s made such a range of dubious comments about Jews, it’s difficult to know where to start (just check his Wikipedia page out). Corbyn was recently lenient on him when he seemed to suggest that Hitler wasn’t fundamentally so anti-Jew, it was just that he ‘went a bit crazy’.

There are others - it is far from just those at the top - but these are the 2 most powerful and prominent people in this faction.

Anti-semitism on the UK Right

A further problem is that anti-Semitism is not just confined to the likes of Corbyn and Livingstone. It is spreading across our society, and has popped up in the far right areas too.

Nigel Farage, for example, said recently that the ‘Jewish lobby’ has too much influence on US politics. He has also attacked George Soros, a Hungarian Jewish billionaire, for being some sort of traitor against Britain. As a Jewish billionaire (who, incidentally, has done lots of great pro-democracy work), it’s mind-numbingly predictable that he would be the subject for anti-Semitic attacks.

And this is occurring in more than just the fringe Ukip-parts of the conutry. This was the Telegraph’s front page recently, written by the former right-hand man of our current Prime Minister:

The anti-Semitic tropes (a rich Jew, ‘secret plot’, subverting our democracy etc) are again so blindingly obvious.

The emerging picture

The point is that we are a country experiencing a rise in anti-Semitism. This cannot be overlooked.

And this is not just happening in the UK, but across the world. Conspiracies about Jewish media and financial elites, George Soros, the Rothschilds, etc are international phenomena. This is because anti-Semitism (like many of other forms of prejudice) transcends country lines.

For proof, just check out the anti-Semitism Wikipedia page. There’s a whole host of examples:

A massacre in Germany in 1096

An expulsion from England in 1290

A massacre in Spain in 1391

An expulsion from Spain in 1492

A massacre in Ukraine in the 1650s

Pogroms in Russia throughout the 1800s

And so on.

Anti-Semitism has been going on for a millenium or more. It is serious. And it’s becoming bigger in the UK right now.

Criticising Israel

This of course doesn’t mean that someone can’t criticise Israel - indeed, in my opinion, we all should criticise the Israeli government. Its crimes against the Palestinians are horrific.

But it’s important to notice who you’re agreeing with and standing alongside when you do this.

When I criticise Jeremy Corbyn (who I helped elect as leader of the Labour party), or Ken Livingstone (who I think was a really good Mayor on the whole), I’m criticising people who I have time for, and share some common ground with.

Too often it feels like people on the left are unwilling to criticise other people in their own tribe.

And other people don’t criticise this for another reason - that they aren’t too bothered about other people, they just want to shine a light on this critical issue of the Israeli government’s crimes against the Palestinian people.

But what does that say, if you’re willing to stand alongside anti-Semites and Holocaust deniers? What does that say to the Jewish people in the UK?

It’s possible and commendable to criticise the Israeli government. Just make sure you’re paying attention to how you do it.

[piddies0709]

Theories/Possible Predictions on the Final Samurai Jack

Assssshhhiiiii-t!!! Too subtle? Well I guess should first say that I kinda was expecting things to  take a turn for the worst. For anyone still bitching about last weeks episode, I'll say this, it may not have been the season's strongest episode, but it still had a point to it's existence. It was meant to be a light-hearted calm before the storm, that would not only establish the turning point of Jack and Ashi's relationship, but also give them a little bit of happiness as well before everything goes to shit! God, I can't believe there are people still complaining about that episode... You've made you're point, can we just move on?

So before I get into what I think might happen in the next and final episode, let me first list a few favorite moments and what I think of the whole guardian situation.

List of some favorite moments:

-Just opens up with them still kissing. Were they doing that all night?

-Ashi finally finds some real clothes.

-Jack taking a shower. Now I know where the cake idea came from, but still, WHY?

-Ashi seeing Jack taking a shower. Come on, girl. You know he's hot.

-See he still has the mane!

-The reverse of Jack's inner mental self. Yeah, Jack's really stuck between a rock and a hard place at this point.

-Jack and Ashi catching the same thing for dinner.

-Awkward chewing scene.

-Jack telling Ashi of his home.

-Ashi asking about a girl. Did Jack forget about that girl in the field or was that just a one time thing?

-EIGHT?! He was only eight years old when it happened?! Damn...(I was eight when I started watching this show...)

-Aku dancing. Seriously, there was a cult around this guy?!

-The Guardian and the time portal being destroyed. More on that later...

-Jack not wanting anything awful to happen to Ashi.

-Jack holding Ashi's hands.

-Aku has come to FUCK everything up.

-Scaramouche is dead?! Good...

-OH SHIT! Aku really IS her Dad!!!

-So thats how it happened? Oookay...

-Why would you drink that shit? Oh wait, this is the High Priestess we're talking about.

-Oh no... here it comes.

-Most heart breaking sword fight ever.

-Aku, your an asshole...

-Oh crap...Thats gonna give me nightmares... Also, doesn't she look like the Beast from Over The Garden Wall? Maybe it's the eyes.

-Well Fuck... Though, I kinda like of the last image. It echos the art work from the original opening.

Okay so, about the guardian. I had feeling he wasn't going to be around anymore. Aku said it himself that he eradicated all the time portals and the guardian's was no acceptation. As to how, you can make you're own conclusion. I mean this is Aku after all. I'm pretty sure he killed the guardian the same way he killed the Scotsman. So that could explain why we only see his glasses. He must have been vaporized. But no matter what, the time port is gone. I know there's been rumors I keep hearing about  Jack having a rematch fight with the guardian and using the portal to instead save Ashi from Aku killing her, but after this episode, I'm almost certain that won't happen. *phew* Still, no amount of time travel would ever have saved her from what shes has become. And now that leads me to some theories I have for what might happen in the last episode. Keep in mind I don't expect all if any of these predictions to be true. These are only things that could happen, but might not. With that said, lets get started.

Theories/Predictions:

So, one of the things the of mentioned rumor talked about was Aku killing Ashi (at least in a literal sense) and after witnessing episode nine. I think it's safe to say I can toss that out one the window. Aku, would have no reason to kill Ashi, now that he knows she carries the essence of him within her. He can pretty much use her as his puppet, to make her do what ever he wants. Sure, Aku's had many evil minions, bounty hunters and robots in the past that have done a lot of the dirty work for him, but no matter how loyal they may have been, none of them could ever really get the job to done or they may have a change of heart at last minuet. Either way, this is the first time Aku's ever had someone he can fully control and bend to his will. It only make sense why he'd keep her around.

Honestly if Ashi is to die, which judging by this whole situation is more than likely the case, it would be by the sword. Here, let me explain. You know remember seeing that image of behind the scenes where, we see the voice actors in the recording both and theres a screen with some of the story bored above? In one frame it has Aku encouraging Ashi to do something and other with Jack begging her not to while he hangs by is wrists, sort of like his Dad in the Birth Of Evil episode. Phil even has his arms raised to fit the inflection of that position.

Anyway, what might end up happening it, Aku has Jack held a prisoner. Word of this gets out, prompting the Scotsman and his daughters, (who must have an army set up by now) to go forth and attack Aku's lair. Meanwhile Aku probably has Jack's sword out of reach, most likely he's not going to destroy it just yet. Rather than killing Jack right away, he instead tortures him. After all, Jack has been a thorn in his side for so long that he wouldn't simply just kill Jack right then and it end there. No, that would be too merciful of him. Of course he would want to kill Jack slowly and painfully. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he got Ashi in on it as well. Then what I think might happen next is the rebellion formed by the Scotsman of all the people that Jack has helped over the years comes to battle to try and save Jack. This annoys Aku, in, which he proceeds to head out and attack the rebels yet again , with Ashi meant to stand guard. With Aku out of the way, Jack tries to reach trough to her yet again. Much like how she did to save him from committing suicide. Now here's where that romantic subplot plays into, Ashi may have Aku's essence with in her, but she's not twisted like her parents. She does feel love, she does know right from wrong and it's her love for Jack that helps her fight against the demon form she's trapped in, at least long enough to free Jack. Then either she uses the sword to kill herself or she is force in to fighting Jack and gets killed in the process either by him unintentionally or she makes him stab her. (Which makes the cute Rams look more like for shadowing) Now whether she stays dead is up for debate. Who knows, they could pull a deus ex machina on us. But more on that later. So if she does get stabbed by the sword, that could be what kills the essence inside of her, thus changing her back. While dying Jack holds her and she tells him how she feels before passing away.

This sends Jack over the edge, as not only has another innocent life been taken because of Aku and him being powerless to stop it, but also the fact that it was someone he's grown so close to. Someone who he cared for dearly. Now just another memory. Finally, he's had enough, no longer caring whether he goes back to the past or not. Aku must die! Back at the fight, all hope seems lost for the rebels has Aku appears to be winning, but that when Jack shows up to kill the demon once and for all. For many years Jack as had to fight Aku alone, but now with his allies, they are able to work together and help Jack deliver the final blow. With Aku defeated, everyone is ready to celebrate their victory. Not Jack however. Instead he heads back in Aku's lair while everyone watches in confusion. A few moments later Jack comes back out with Ashi cradled in his arms. Clearly grief stricken. Now this is where I think the Scotsman might play a roll in this. Genndy did say he'd come back in a big way. In edition to being the one that assembled the rebellion in the first place, who's to say he wouldn't also save Ashi's life as well. After all he's a ghost now and with Aku dead, he doesn't really have any reason stay on earth anymore. Maybe he can use some of that Celtic magic to give Ashi life again. Now you maybe asking why I think this. Why would Scotsman save the life of someone he'd never met. Well, for Jack of course. He was always such a good friend to Jack, plus Jack did help him save the love of his life. So this could be his repayment. The world is saved and future looks bright. Despite still being stuck in the future, after seeing all those he's helped and finding someone he cares about deeply, Jack comes to a realization; that you can't really change the past, but you can work to build a better future.

So there you have it. Those are my theories on this last episode. Now all of this is just speculation. I don't expected all, if not any of these things to be true. Who knows what will really happen until Saturday night comes around, but if some of my theories turn out correct, I will be surprised to say the least. Still there so many ways that this series could end. So if you have your own ideas as to what the outcome might be, please let me know.

[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #4

Arranged marriage anyone? For this setting, I'm thinking of a magic intensive celtic-esc society. My character has the whole part wolf thing going on, and I'm hoping for your character to maybe also have more animalistic features? But I would also accept shit like elves and teiflings in a heart beat. (Ya girl is SUCH a slut for them elves and teiflings my dude you have no idea) Retcon: Got Lots of elves. Still might take one, but am looking for different species overall now.

Tbh? He's giving you character the out, but I'd like to focus on not only character exploration but.. oh, you know. Let them fuck, it's their wedding night. 18+ tho for that reason.

If you want to just reply on connect, that's fine. If you want to ask more about the world building, or offer some of your own.. I don't have much to give ATM but I'm good at creating things on the quick and breezy. Any gender accepted, smth smth don't need no fantasy homophobia in my roleplay.  

Anyway my characters name is Oke, he's about 5'11, with distinct wolf features like ears and a tail, and the teeth. Other things that are described in comic. Darker skin, with a bit of scarring, but a warm face and friendly smile. Hoping for this to eventually go into the whole "fish out of water exploring each other's cultures" shit but you know Slams foot on table // hit me with whatever

UPDATE Sat down and wrote out the world building just ask for it YEET

He'd had a partner, once.

He was a beautiful man. A warrior, one that held his head high and smiled wide enough that he saw stars in his teeth. His hair was red enough that he swore he was running his hands through a sea of fire and sunlight, and his touch warm enough to He'd never been much the warrior type, himself. He'd found solace in craft and studies, and he couldn't help but feel his mother held relief in that fact. But he would still sit and carefully paint his lovers body with symbols of protection and power before every battle he'd wander into, reassured by his gentle smiles and soft touches that- yes, of course he'd return.

It'd been a lie, of course. He'd died pridefully in battle, and his mother had told him for that they should celebrate. He hears the way her tone falters, how close she is to tears. She'd loved him like one of her own, and they'd both been so, so young then. He places a smile on his face and raises a glass high, and fondly remembers his lover for what he was. A powerful warrior, amazing personality.

Still, when night hits and he's alone, he can't help but cry at the fate his God's have handed him. How selfish is that?

~~

He'd been considering traveling, when his mother tells him-

"The clan we've been at odds with is willing to make a deal," She tells him, and her tone is stiff, "We've both lost warriors, good people to this fighting. And their former leader died. "Don't feel pressured to do anything, but they want you to marry them," it made sense. Many of his kin in the village and pack showed their blood. Large teeth on a chiseled face, sharp claws on stiff fingers. The men and woman of his pack were terrifying, and it was a carefully crafted image that had taken generations to make.

They would eat this person alive. He at least looked like he wouldn't. Sounded like he wouldn't, if they gave him a rundown on what he did. Son of their leader, sure. But he'd never once touched a battlefield in his life. A battle-axe felt foreign on his hands, blood tasted like metal on his tongue. He was sure that he was the least intimidating option they had.

"What do you know about the person they're sending us?" He asks, not... outright saying no, at least.

"Not much," She admits, smile on her face falling somewhat, "We told them we'd take anyone- be it male or female. I wouldn't force you to wed with anyone too.. old, but other then that we really don't know too much about them." "Of course, If you're not comfortable with it..." She trails off, as though considering it, "We could ask Myr-"

"Let me think about it," He cuts her off before she gets too far. He's sure it would make more sense to wed them to their strongest warrior. But she was a bit.. brutal sometimes, and already had someone she'd wanted to wed. He was sure she would have accepted the offer- Most would without hesitation if it meant stalling their bloodbath. But he needed time to get over the aching in his heart.

~~

He marries them.

~~

"You're sure you want to do this?"

He's not. But he's not going to let that show to his mother, who despite her nerves, looks so proud of him as she paints up his arm. He'd worn most of these symbols only once before, and seeing them on his skin again felt like a distant and uncertain memory. But they were symbols of love, and he knew they should fill him with pride as well.

"It wasn't like I was going to go out of my way to find another partner on my own," He admits to her, as he reaches up to mess with the jewelry in his hair with his free arm.

Her look of pride melts to one of heart ache, and lingers long enough that he's sure she knows that. But nothing more is said, and they spend the rest of the evening in a steady, understanding silence.

~~

The elixir was easy to make, but disgusting to drink. Like sludge down the back of his throat. They've added what they can to make the transition easier, but it's not the taste that gets to him. It's the texture, something their both made to drink from in careful sips. Their hands are tied together, and as he'd looked at them he'd felt something of an ounce of regret. Would they have wed, if he hadn't accepted their offer?

But the night grew thick, and a storm came in. A blessing from the gods, his mother had said. Rains brought new life, and the thunder rolled with approval of their wed. He's not sure if he entirely buys it, but even he admits that something in the air feels.. right, if not foreign to him.

But as the festivities worn down.. And really, of all the things they knew how to do, throw a party was certainly one of them. The sound of drums still rang in his ear, and his feet were numb from the length he'd been standing on them- They were brought back to a private tent. Eventually, they'd either move to their lands, or into his families home. Well. Mothers home, he supposed. Her partner had long since past, parents withering away with time. It was something he worried about. What would she do if he left her?? He was sure she could find someone else to live with, especially as they entered a supposed time of peace. However..

He supposed that wasn't something to worry about for now. For now, the tent they're given is practically a home in itself. Somewhere private, somewhere the two of them could live for the next thirty days. It's just within reach of their people where, if something were to happen, they could easily find help. Close enough to be gifted food, and wares from their ceremony. But far enough out that it feels like just the two of them. A decent twenty minute walk in the right direction and they'd be back to either of their people. Theres no one else in sight, no other tents around. And they're left by themselves, in a small tent near a large lake. He can hear the sound of water crashing onto itself in the distance, but only if he focuses and lets his ears twitch. And he's-

Ignoring the moment, he supposes.

He sits back on the blankets, a mixture of elegant fawn and rabbit furs that have been carefully sewn together. They'd never been known to waste any bit of their hunt. The furs became clothing and blankets, material for leather and scrap. The bones were ground to power, for a base on their paints. The meat was cooked and saved, and scraps they couldn't use given to the wolves around them as feed. Their proudest hunt had been taking down a bear, a beautiful pelt his former lover had brought back hung from their chair for the longest time. Even now, it was used as a blanket, though carefully stolen from the chair to his room so he could wrap himself up in its warmth.

But, for something meant to be temporary, the bed is still soft. He finds himself wanting to fall into it and forget himself.

The tent is warm. He imagines they'd lit the fire twards the beginning of the day, because the chill of the night and rain doesn't make it past the entranceway of their tent.

He blinks at them. They'd been avoiding each-other most of the night. The celebration had been loud, and noisy, and he'd been more focused on celebrating the lack of battle in their upcoming days then he was their own union. He'd indulged in more food and brewery then he'd like to admit, and stuck to the people he knew best.

But now he's sat here with them, a little drunk and really rather exhausted.

"I don't want to scare you," Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, past the heated and drunken haze. He thinks that might be easy to do. While he's not entirely tall, standing only around 5'll, he's still covered head to toe in his ceremonial markings. He has the eyes of his kind, deep brown and filling his eyes, his teeth are pointed and nails (while carefully painted a shade of yellow) Sharp. Though, he knows he has a gentle smile, and when his ear flicks back again to try not to focus on the sound of water, he lets a nervous one cross his face.

"We- Don't have to do anything tonight, if you don't want to," Is the first words he finds himself saying to them. His mother would probably be appalled by them. He loved her, but she was spiritual at heart, and he knew his pack wanted him to be united with them as soon as possible. But he feels the dizziness that comes from the beginning signs of a hangover, while still somehow feeling the heat of whatever drug they'd taken that night. "If you'd like for me to go to my mothers tent, I'd be willing to give you the night to yourself," It would mean walking through the rain, he supposed. But he was willing to give them that, willing to give them some time to themselves if it meant letting them relax. He doesn't recognize the feeling of anxiety running through his fingers, as well.

[mceproductions]

October 2018 Blurbs

10/1/18 31 Nights of Halloween, Freeforms inheritence from its previous incarnations, other than the mandated 700 Club. The month between seasons, otherwise known as candy city. Stockholm Syndrome from Willies departure may be setting in as we had a large truck and only 4 of us to do it. I shouldnt be missing his prescence but somehow i am. Remedy is needed soon. 10/2/18 Im A Christmas Guy, love giving gifts out and decorating. Have done so annually for 16 years and it always starts within the first few days of October as i unblock my Holiday themed movie and TV Shows on digital. Looking forward to the next few weeks especially. Brewers NLDS starts Thursday! 10/3/18 The old tutalige of when it rains it pours, reared its ugly head. Flat by Old El Rancho. That really screws things up for me. Hoping for Miracle. 10/4/18 Well, day minus the Brewers coming back, was a bust. Tire was flat. Hoping I can get it either possibly fixed or a cheap replacement. Wondering how ill get to the store tomorrow. 10/5/18 Apparently massive flu spreading around as Mom picked up whatever Dad was sick with. Ended up replacing tire, but with brand new one. Hopeful not mistake. Also affected things at WallyWorld as Linda and Tyler were feeling cruddy. Hopeful I dont get it. Brewers win and truck got fixed. Still undecided on Venom or Gaga for movie on Saturday. 10/6/18 Ended up going with Gaga and was pleasently stunned by both her and Bradley Cooper. Movie was wonderful and that ending was rough, picked up soundtrack to boot. Sort of took longer than I anticipated coming back from EC thanks to BlueGolds Homecoming. Boy colleges take that far more seriously than High School. Panera for dinner was a great alternative as well. 13th Doctor tomorrow before work! FLCL on the other hand...I'll never say the C word to anyone, but Pets was definetly the C Word to Kana. 10/7/18 Man that was emberassing to watch. Green Bay actually played so lousy I watched Doctor Who, and loved the female 13th looking forward to more of her. Final Season of Walking dead also premired. Wonder how Ricks going out. Gunner and his partner are really intolerable. Reporting that asap, the store is not a place for thier private spats. 10/8/18 Columbus getting squeezed out of his own day is the most PC thing that I can get on board with. Nobody gives a crap about the whole Sailed the ocean blue in 1492 thing anymore. Stuff to do including assignments that I have to go to the library to finish. Hoping internet will be back sooner rather than later. 10/9/18 Woke up to flashing lights by house and realized power line got taken down by tree that Dad had pointed out. A bit more broke than I anticipated. Stuff here i have to do anyway and thankfully work will limit my having to go anywhere. Really could use $300 to pay Patti. Brewers will take on Dodgers in NLCS starting Friday. Mad that Conan for all intent and purpose has been cancelled, adpating is one thing but this is a glorified cancellation. 10/10/18 Rain city continues...Puddles in Bravada. On top of it its getting colder. Winter isnt here yet, but the white ravens are taking flight. 10/11/18 Now comes the cold, and first snow of the year. We had it all today cold, wind, sun and snow. 10/12/18 Store gave me a first look at my future. Gaurantee work on Sunday Monday and Friday every week unless i say so. Which other than one day may be saying much. Could use more variety than that. Also stinks NLCS is on when im working. Pulling for Dodgers in at least 1 game so I can see game 5 on wednesday at least. 10/13/18 They have been hyping the crap out of inventory for the past 3 weeks. Now i see why, Clint made a rare Saturday appearance at the store. Hopeful for the next few days. Got my prediction right about game 5 on Wednesday so thats good. Kanye is nuts as usual, and Kana gave me the best reason yet to finally move forward on the FLCL finale. Cold week ahead. 10/14/18 Andrew and his little notes are getting out of hand. Got called in to do truck early as Inventory closes in on Tuesday. Clint on the other hand, i know ive got to not walk off for a few seconds but he really needs to chill for a bit especially cause we both used to be pushing carts in the first months of the store he should know my rhtyms by now. Stinks about Pete Davidson though, really hope he can recover cause i liked him and Ariana as a couple. Rather unfortunate that they split cause she couldnt deal with her ex commiting suicide. 10/15/18 A missing person is a big deal, when you happen to know someone who is related to said missing person, then you know its huge. Jayme Closs, the cousin of Brody being abducted after her parents were gunned down, sad for all. My only issue is brody reatcing to everyones sympathies, overkill a bit. The other issue i have is the amber alert system that can be sent out to phones. With Trumps ability to text everyone in the country I witnessed a bunch of people who got the alert yesterday complain about it, the others who thought she killed them and fled are the bigger morons. Hopefully shes found safe. Other than that, good night for Wisconsin Sports, Brewers are 2 Out from pennant and Rodgers did his thing once again. 10/16/18 Boring first part of shift as we did basically nothing due to the inventory. But at least the night managed to salvage itself. Dodgers really play dirty. 10/17/18 Nose began to stuff itself again. Bunch of classwork for 2 weeks as i get the inservice day. Milwaukee gave another one away. Hoping Game 6 on Friday will be a turnaround. 10/18/18 Rare thursday day, nose still stuffed. 10/19/18 Library day as i caught up on work, and finally watched A Chrsitmas Story to its ending. A classic, yes just don't feel that strongly about it. Big game from the Crew forcing Game 7. 10/20/18 This day was nuts, a quick 25 minute snowcase that gave way to sunny conditions by noon. Saw Venom, didn't get why it was hated. Quite enjoyable dyanmic and She-Venom was the highlight of it all. Dodgers unfortuantley took the pennant. Great season overall for Milwaukee just bummed my streak of picking the world series winner at the All Star game ended at 4. Also tide pods finally used them, no wonder people ate them they're great for clothes. 10/21/18 First day ever that i skipped NFL Games. Neat concept. 10/22/18 Very long strech of store coming up, especially given that Today we only had 3 total. 10/23/18 Held off on grabbing Mamma Mia 2 Blu Ray. Mainly due to gas situation that had Bravada dying near tracks. I got to figure cash situation out to pay off people. 10/24/18 Lone day off before Halloween. No class today so that made things better. Master Mode on Zelda getting easier to figure out. Did reset on iPhone and Kindle, should fix lone bugs. Really want to play RDR2 and Spiderman PS4. World Series from what I can tell is shaping up as a sweep. Also, whole reason I began watching Sunny aired tonight. First of 2 Part Super Bowl Episode. Charlie in a Bear Trap drinking pee, eww! 10/25/18 First of 6 in a row backwise. The Halloween episodes on TV Usually do wonders for me, not this time. I know this is the final season of Big Bang Theory but Sheldon not realizing how irritating he sounds to others after 12 years and so much maturing seems not the right way to do it. Especially seeing his wife irrate Bernadette. 10/26/18 2nd night, the wheels i dont think feel off, but the were more loose than usual. Hour to set up, hour work, break, 30 minutes to unload hvdc and then didn't finish til after 6. When your down numbers wise you can certainly feel it. FYI The crap with the MAGA Bomber made me mad enough to likely stay off social media until after the election, that made it my breaking point. RWBY Season Premire Tomorrow! 10/27/18 Rooster Teeth First free trial, worth it for watching a great primire that perfectly sets up what comes. My point who is that woman with the Maz Kanata eyewear? Wisconsin stinks. 10/28/18 My issue with the whole core hours thing involves me working on days i know theres something i should be doing. Such as watching the packers. Almost beating LA, hopeful they can actually do that against Brady. 10/29/18 That blue wave better close in next week cause, another shooting and another predictable Trump response occurred. Hate crimes abound in his america. 10/30/18 Last in the back, October really came and went this year. Only thing bad about not working Halloween is the dressup im missing out on. Adam in drag would have been a hoot. 10/31/18 Darkness Falls Across the Land...You Know the rest. Halloween. This day is one back 20 Years ago i would openly love. At least the Candy is still around, albiet smaller and more sugary. Nowadays this day has me DVR'ing all the major shows to see what costumes get put on. Spoiler Alert only episodes of ATH And PTI that I happily record all year. When it comes to applying for scholarships however thats where it blurrs. WITC is really biased against those in the outreach sites hoping i can get help tomorrow when i visit. November came too quickly but, I get to see my nephew in 2 Weeks!