#i doubt anyone wants to a long winded post though of my opinion on him so I'll just say that

[epickiya722]

You know what, I know some people are surprised Katsuki keeps getting first place but I feel there are others who aren't surprised, just tired.

Like, it's just so weird to me that for Katsuki to be (or have been) so hated even still and yet also have so many fans. Is some of his haters secret fans? Maybe, maybe not.

Maybe some of them even switched over completely over the years given his development.

Sometimes, I feel like those who harass others over him secretly love him but just want to be an ass and cause drama.

At some point, I was genuinely surprised he kept getting first place because I kept seeing so much hate on the guy then all of a sudden. Now? I'm not surprised. It's like "oh, anyways, what am I having for lunch today".

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 7

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,480

Warnings: none

A/N: This is long overdue, sorry - hopefully it’s worth it. It’s also incredibly long... idek anymore. I want to thank you all for your patience and support. It means a lot to me.

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

You grumbled into your pillow when you heard your phone buzz on the bedside table. Cracking one eye open, you lifted your phone and squinted to read the neon numbers showing on the screen.

7:12 a.m.

You had an email notification, nothing important, but it somehow managed to come through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ feature. You knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep so you got up and padded barefoot into the kitchen.  

A smile curled up your lips when you saw the leftovers from your made-up holiday. There were a few cookies and muffins in a plate, a large bowl of cereals, and two dirty milkshake glasses on the counter.

It had been a fun and relaxing couple of days. You ate, talked, played board games, and watched movies in your fanciest loungewear attire. Bucky sought your touch more than usual and it left you a little confused. Every time he touched you, the line between feelings of friendship and feelings of love became blurred.

Bucky was an early riser, always up before you, dressed in his usual khakis and long sleeved Henley shirts with his hair slightly tousled. He looked effortlessly sexy and always had a warm smile for you even though you looked like a hot mess in your mismatched pyjamas, staggering into the kitchen, blindly following the smell of food cooking on the stove.

Today, the kitchen was silent. Bucky was probably still asleep, so you decided to cook breakfast. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d catch him in his night clothes.

Wasting no time, you made a beeline for the coffee machine. You filled the water tank and measured fresh grounds into the filter, but your task was interrupted when you heard groans coming from somewhere nearby. You soon figured out that the sounds were coming from the living room.

Curious, you silently made your way toward the sound. The shades were up, and you could see the midnight blue sky fading into pastel hues of yellow and pink with the approaching dawn. Under any other circumstances, you would have been completely enraptured by its beauty, but something else caught your attention.

Bucky was standing upside down with his head on a yoga mat. His eyes were closed and his features were set in an expression of serious concentration. You half hid behind the wall and observed him.

You were impressed, his headstand was perfectly vertical and he was doing it without hand support, meaning that he was supporting his entire weight on his neck. He slowly lowered one toe back down, then the other, before he rested his forearm on the mat and lifted his butt toward the ceiling, his body forming a perfect inverted V.

“You’re up already,” he asked, sitting back on his haunches. “I can hear you breathing behind that wall.”

Busted...

You peeked out into the living room and cringed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you but that was sooo impressive.” You walked into the room and perched yourself on the arm of the sofa, facing Bucky who was kneeling at your feet. “How do you do that?”

He chuckled, his cheeks red from exertion and bashfulness. “Practice. Yoga’s good for building strength.”

He looked up at you with a boyish smile, his hair damp with perspiration. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, rolling too close to his eyes and making him squint.

His pants left little to the imagination, the fabric stretched across his powerful thighs, and his sleeveless shirt clung to his drenched chest, outlining his muscles. Your eyes darted to his left shoulder where his stump was visible.

Despite living with him for over two months, you had never seen him in one of those sleeveless shirts before, though you couldn’t blame him since it was the middle of winter and you hadn’t been wearing any either. It was warm inside the apartment but not enough to walk around bare-armed.

“It’s easier to do yoga when the sleeve isn’t slapping me in the face every five seconds,” Bucky said, looking at his stump. “But I can cover it up if you prefer.”

“No! Of course not,” you rushed to say. “I’m sorry. That was really rude.”

“You were just looking, it’s only natural,” he said. “People are curious. Staring... well, staring is different.” His frown smoothed away and he turned to you with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

You smiled down at him. “Starving.”

“I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick, then I’ll start breakfast.”

“Actually, I was about to start cooking before I got distracted.” Bucky looked away, a slight blush covering his cheeks. “But I think we have plenty of food left over from last night.”

“We’re not eating cookies for breakfast,” he said. “We’ll save them for later. Right now we need something healthy.” He grinned as he pushed himself to his feet and ran upstairs. “I’ll be right back.”

You shook your head at his antics and returned to the kitchen to finish making coffee. After all he’d done for you, it was the least you could do. You knew Bucky liked cooking –and he was damn good at it- but sometimes you wondered if this was a fair arrangement.

He had given you a place to stay, money, food to eat, your own artist’s studio, and you had given him... nothing. Admittedly, you knew that your presence calmed him, comforted him. You gave him the emotional support he desperately needed and it was important, but he could also have adopted a pet.

Too tired for coffee or tea, you poured yourself a glass of orange juice, hoping it would wake you up. It worked but your self-deprecating thoughts were still playing havoc in your mind.

You were fixing Bucky’s coffee when he came back downstairs after his shower, and you were pleasantly surprised to find him wearing a clean sleeveless shirt. You met his eyes and found that he was watching you intently. You offered him a smile and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

“Looking good, James.”

He looked down at his feet with a bashful smile as he crossed the room slowly. You observed him in silence while he prepared breakfast for the two of you. It was a simple breakfast bowl with yogurt, granola, fresh fruits and honey but he somehow made it look like a gourmet dish.

“There you go, angel,” he said, setting your bowl in front of you. “What are you going to do today?”

You took a slice of kiwi and dipped in yogurt. “I think I’m going to paint. You?”

Bucky licked his spoon and you stared at it longingly before you quickly averted your eyes. No, you couldn’t be jealous of a goddamn spoon. Catch yourself on.

“I have an idea for a new book,” he said, running his tongue along his teeth to clean them before he spoke again. “I had a meeting with my agent last week. It went well, my old publisher really wants to work with me again. I’m signing my contract this afternoon.”

“Bucky!” you squealed after swallowing your mouthful of yogurt a little too fast. “That’s amazing!”

“Thank you,” he said, staring into nothing with wide eyes. “I’m nervous, scared and excited at the same time. It’s strange, y’know, all these feelings mixed together. It’s a bit overwhelming and I haven’t even started yet.”

“Don’t think too much,” you said. “You’ve done this before, you can do it again.”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling.

You scraped your spoon around the bowl and licked it clean. “What’s it about? Is it a novel? Can I be in it?”

Bucky chuckled to himself and you figured that every single writer had friends who begged them to appear in their books. You couldn’t help it, the idea of living forever as ink on a page was too tempting.

“It’s not a novel,” he said. “It’s the third instalment of my series. The style is a little hard to explain but this is what I like to say: self-help book meets Bridget Jones’ Diary.”

“I tried to look you up but I couldn’t find anything written by a James Barnes or a Bucky Barnes.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you a fraud? Or are you using a pen name?”

He pretended to think about it. “I’m a fraud.”

“I knew it,” you mock-sighed.

Bucky took your bowl and placed it in the sink along with his. When he started cleaning them, you joined him and took a dish towel.

“I’ll tell you soon,” he spoke after a moment.

“It’s okay, take your time.”

You knew he wasn’t going to tell you what his pen name was, not now at least. His books were a reflection of his struggles, his success, and his fears, and you could understand why he preferred to keep you in the dark for now.

The people who read his books didn’t know him, they were just anonymous faces in a crowd but you were real. You were his friend, his new friend, and your opinion mattered.

“It’s been a couple of years since I’ve published my last book. My agent said that people haven’t forgotten about me but I still have to,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “’show my face’, just to remind everyone that I’m still writing.” He sighed.

“There’s a charity event next month at the museum of Natural History,” he continued. “It’s a huge event, a lot of important people will be there, including some of the most famous gallerists and curators in the country. You’re allowed to say no but,” he paused and turned to look at you, “do you want to come with me?”

You pressed your lips together while you mulled this over. There was no doubt in your mind that it was a great opportunity, one that you would have never had without Bucky, and you knew you had to say yes. But this was your least favourite part of being an artist.

You didn’t know how to sell yourself and you always felt like an arrogant asshat when you spoke about your paintings, even though you had every right to be proud of your work.

You had managed to persuade yourself that this new life would last forever. Eat, laugh, paint, repeat forever. But it wasn’t real. You had to put yourself out there, even if it made you uncomfortable because painting was only half your job.

Something else bothered you. You didn’t want to be the poor, struggling artist who took advantage of a charity event to make herself known. It seemed wrong and hypocritical.

You voiced your concerns to Bucky who looked at you with a pained expression.

“Yes, it’s a fundraiser but I can assure you that everyone at the party will be talking business and exchanging business cards,” he said. “And they’ll compensate with a huge donation to clear their guilty conscience. Is it false philanthropy? Absolutely, and I’m ashamed to say I’m one of them. You’re not taking advantage of a good cause, we are.”

“You’re nothing like them,” you said. “You’re kind and selfless, you’re a good person.”

“I’m not sure that’s true, angel,” he said with a tight smile.

When you opened your mouth to protest, he leaned forward and cupped the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, ending the conversation. He had never done that before and you froze, feeling equal parts confused, incredulous and appreciated.

He pulled back and wiped down the sink with the sponge, acting like kissing you so sweetly was something completely normal, like he was unbothered. Meanwhile you just stood there wondering if you would ever be able to breathe normally again.

You pressed your lips together hard and tried to gather your thoughts but your mind was reeling. You were about to leave the room when your eyes landed on a pile of mail on the kitchen counter.

The first letter was a cheesy view of the Tower Bridge, the words ‘Greetings from London’ written in bold cursive letters across the postcard.

You only knew one person who still sent postcards.

Wanda.

“What’s this?” you asked, nodding toward the stack of mail.

Confused, Bucky looked to you then followed your line of sight and saw the mail. “Oh, Natasha dropped these off last night. She wanted to see you but you were already asleep.”

You nodded distractedly while you picked up the postcard. The sight of it filled you with anxiety. Your sister didn’t’ send these postcards often, but every time you received one it reminded you that things were different now. Gone was the happy and supportive family you used to cherish.  

Your breath caught in your throat as you read Wanda’s hastily written words.

I’m coming home.

She was coming home. A wave of nausea ran through you and your breathing came shallow and fast.

“Wow, wow, wow.” You felt Bucky’s hand at our waist, steering you toward a chair, and you realized your legs were giving way under you. “Deep breaths, angel. Look at me. There you go!”

“Sorry,” you said. “See what happens when you don’t let me eat cookies for breakfast?”

Bucky smiled at your poor attempt at humour. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

You debated telling him but you weren’t sure how to voice your concerns so you handed him the postcard instead. You had told Bucky about Wanda. She had disappeared after Pietro’s death, sending postcards from time to time as proof that she was still alive and well.

“Your sister is coming home.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I haven’t seen her for six years. She doesn’t know our mom has Alzheimer, she doesn’t know I sold our old childhood home. She keeps sending those postcards there. I gave the new owners Natasha’s address in case they still receive our mail. They’re very nice.” You let out a humourless laugh. “I had absolutely no idea what I was doing when I sold our house, and they could have taken advantage of me but they didn’t. I guess it’s not every day you buy a family house from a 24 year old girl. It probably screams tragic backstory, uh?”

“You did this on your own?”

“Yup.”

Bucky put his hand on your knee and gave you a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

You looked down at his thumb rubbing soothing circles just above your knee. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy.” You paused, then raised your head to look at him. “Living with you makes my life so much easier. I live in my own little bubble where I don’t have to be an adult. I feel like I can finally breathe. And I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me and all you continue to do.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head. “We help each other. We’re good together.”

“Yes, of course,” you said with a smile. “But we both know it’ll have to end one day. It has to, one way or another. I want to be more independent, start my career and support my family. I don’t want to rely on others anymore. I want to rely on myself.”

“But there’s no rush, angel.”

“I know, but nothing’s gonna change if I stay in my little bubble. I have to do things that make me uncomfortable.”

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’ll come with you to the fundraiser.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up in surprise but a smile broke across his face. “That’s great! But what about your sister?”

You shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do. She’ll probably go to our old house, realize it’s not ours anymore. If she’s lucky they’ll give her Natasha’s address. I’m sure she’ll have lots of questions but she can’t show up six years later and act like our bond is still intact. I’m not at her beck and call. I’m only responsible for myself and, Bucky, I’m so tired of trying to please everyone. I deserve to live my best life, goddammit.”

“I am so happy to hear you say that,” Bucky said, his smile blinding. “Celebratory cookie?”

“Yes! Two cookies, please,” you replied, out of breath. “I’m slightly freaking out.”

You spent the next couple of weeks planning for the event; painting, taking pictures of your work, posting them on Instagram, searching for gallerists and curators you wanted to work with and cross-checking the attendees.

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but wonder if Wanda was already in New York and if she was looking for you.

“Check this out!” you exclaimed, shoving a business card in Natasha’s face before you pushed past her to get into her apartment. “It’s official, I’m an artist.”

She laughed as she closed the door, her eyes on the card. “Hi, it’s nice to see you, too,” she deadpanned.

“Sorry, hi.”

“Well, looks like you’re all set. When’s the party?”

“Next week,” you replied, taking a seat on you former bed, her sofa. “I’m a little nervous, but also excited. I don’t know, it’s a strange feeling.”

Natasha pinned your business card onto the fridge using a magnet before she opened the refrigerator door and retrieved a bottle of orange juice. She took two glasses from the cupboard and joined you on the sofa.

“But, yeah, I’m ready. I have over two hundred business cards, I know who I want to work with, and I even bought an external battery pack just in case.”

“And what are you going to wear?” Natasha asked before taking a sip of orange juice. You looked at her with wide eyes, panic written all over your face. “You forgot to buy a dress,” she concluded out loud. “Why am I not surprised?”

“With everything going on, I completely forgot I had to... wear clothes.”

“I’m sure James wouldn’t mind seeing you in your birthday suit.” She laughed when you practically shoved her off the sofa. “Come on, I’ll help you look semi-decent.”

You groaned. “I don’t want to go shopping right now. Plus, I blew all my money on business cards.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s freezing outside, I’m not leaving my apartment,” she replied, reaching for her laptop. ���You’re going to rent it.”

“Ew,” you made a face.

You remembered the formal wear store where you had rented your prom dress. The place smelled like moth balls and sweat, and the dress had given you a rash. Not a great memory.

“Trust me, I know this is your first but I’m a seasoned veteran. I’ve been to dozens of fundraisers, and I had to wear dozens of designer dresses. Do you even know how much a Saint Laurent evening gown cost? You can’t wear the same dress twice. That’s a big no-no. And it’s not just the dress. You need a clutch, a pair of shoes, jewelry, a coat. You have to rent them.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

She opened up her web browser and typed in the website address for the dress rental. As she entered your size and budget, it was obvious that she knew her way around the website and you had to admit that it was a lot easier than traditional shopping.

You looked at the collection of dresses, not entirely convinced, when you found it. You instantly knew it was the right one.

You stared longingly at the beautiful wine-red dress, made entirely of velvet. The bodice was cut on the bias, the fabric draping itself elegantly to contour the shape of the model’s upper body. The skirt was long and flowing, and the waist was cinched in with a thin black belt.

You clicked on the second picture and Natasha let out a strangled gasp. The open back was draped at the waist and weighted with a crystal on a golden chain.

The dress gave off 1930s vibes, it was elegant and refined but the back was daring and sexy. It was exactly what you needed. You paired it with a black wool cape, and Natasha offered to let you borrow a pair of shoes, jewellery and a bag.

The dress and coat arrived the next day. The woman who delivered them was kind and polite, she stayed in the kitchen while you tried on the dress. Once you gave the all-clear, she handed you your receipt.

The dress was yours for an entire week.

On the day of the gala, you were a nervous, sweaty mess. Natasha’s clutch was on your nightstand, filled to the brim with business cards. Your hair and makeup were already done. You sat on your bed in your underwear, staring at the dress hanging in your closet.

“I can do this,” you whispered to yourself.

You were adjusting the fabric around your cleavage, making sure everything flowed nicely, when you heard Bucky shouting from the kitchen.

“The car will be there in fifteen minutes.”

You took a deep breath and smoothed your hands down the sides of your dress, the tickling caress of the velvet calming you almost instantly. You reached for the handle, your heart hammering in your chest, and opened the door.

Bucky was standing at the kitchen island, looking down at his phone. He looked up when he heard the sound of your door opening.

“Hey, are you-” The rest of his sentence died on his lips as he froze. He stood there, staring at you, his eyes roaming your body in a manner that could only be called amazement. “You look-” He shook his head as if he couldn’t find the right word.

You looked down at yourself, grinning. After weeks of seeing you in your big woolly jumpers, pyjamas and painting overalls, you could understand why this was a shock. It was one to you as well.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding strangled.

“Thank you.” He stood a little straighter when he noticed you were checking him out. He wore a dark blue suit with black lapels, a white shirt and a black velvet bow tie. You matched. “You look like a real heartthrob in that suit.”

He laughed and looked away, embarrassed. It was your favourite look on him; when he couldn’t maintain eye contact and his cheeks were slightly red and his nose crunched up a little.

“You’re wearing your prosthetic,” you said, noticing the stiff arm and fake hand.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking at his left arm. “This thing itches like hell, but I don’t blend well in a crowd when I’m not wearing my prosthetic. These people know me, they’ll be looking for me. Let’s not make it too easy for them.”

He finished his sentence with a wink and your entire body threatened to spontaneously combust. Do people still wink? Apparently. You walked over to him and briefly stroked his arm before you walked past him to the bathroom.

It gave him a great view of your bare back and the little crystal nestled just above the small of your back. You didn’t see his reaction but you heard his sharp intake of breath.

You left the bathroom door open while you rummaged through your makeup bag, relief flowing through you when your fingers brushed against your favourite lipstick.

You straightened up and looked at yourself in the mirror. Bucky was leaning against the bathroom door frame, observing you. You uncapped the lipstick and brought it to your lips, locking eyes with him in the mirror.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost ready.”

“I’m not worried,” Bucky replied with a mischievous smile. “Please, carry on.”

You rolled your eyes at his sudden smug expression, trying to look unbothered, but you could feel his eyes on you and you willed your hands to stop shaking. Today was not the day to look like Miranda Sings.

“What’s it called?” Bucky asked from the threshold, spellbound.

“No idea, the label has faded,” you said, rubbing your lips together to smudge your lipstick. “It has probably expired by now, my mom gave it to me when I was a kid.” You blotted your lips and tossed the balled tissue into the wastebasket. “She called it ‘Carter Red’.”

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips. “When we were kids, we used to watch her apply her lipstick. We thought she was the most sophisticated woman in the world. When she was done, she’d turn to us and ask ‘Who wants red lips?’ Then we’d leave the house in our matching red lips.”

Bucky entered the bathroom and took a seat on the edge of the tub. “Did your brothers wear red lipstick too?” he asked with a grin.

You laughed. “Pietro did. Scott was more into nail polish.”  

“Do you think I can pull it off?”

You turned to him with a wicked grin and waved your lipstick in his direction. He stood when you took a step closer to him. He seemed to enjoy the playful glint dancing in your eyes. You beckoned him closer like some kind of old witch.

“I’m sure you’d look real cute with lipstick all over your face,” you said, taunting him with your tube of lipstick.

Something in his expression changed, darkened, making you feel hot and cold at the same time. His eyes travelled down your face to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Yeah, I’d really like that,” he spoke so softly you almost missed it.

It was your turn to freeze. You parted your lips to speak but nothing came out, you just blinked hard and stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to explain what that meant. But he never did, and you took a step back.

Did he just...? Did he just try to kiss you? No! No, that’s silly. Why would he want to kiss you? He was just being playful and you simply projected your own desires onto him.

He took a step back too and gave an imperceptible nod. “The car should be here any minute,” he said, smiling. It was a tight smile and you didn’t like it at all. “I’ll let you get ready.”

After he closed the door behind him, you dumped your lipstick back into your makeup bag and took a long look at yourself in the mirror. You looked deflated, miserable. You sighed... the night was off to a great start.

Bucky waited for you while you finished getting ready. You picked up your clutch, slid your feet into a pair of high-heel shoes, and struggled with your cape until Bucky came to your rescue. To your surprise, his smile was genuine again, and it made your heart soar. Maybe you had just misread the situation and he wasn’t upset, offended –or whatever that tight smile was.

The heels were higher than you were used to, but Bucky gave you an arm to hang onto. The sky was already dark when you arrived at the Museum of Natural History. You walked up the stairs and left your coats in the coat-check room before you took a look around the room.

Hundreds of people were milling around the hall, a glass in their hand as they weaved between the jaw-dropping dinosaur skeletons that were on display. You kept your arm linked through Bucky’s and tried not to stare at anyone.  

“Be careful,” Bucky whispered in your ear, making you perk up. “Someone once told me that the exhibits come to life after the sun sets.”

“Remind me to stay away from the Biodiversity Hall,” you chuckled. Then you spotted one of the curators you wanted to work with, you let go of Bucky’s arm and squared your shoulders. “Showtime. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, angel.”

“God, I’m sweating. Is it noticeable?”

Bucky smiled at you. “No, you look perfect.”

You gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I hope I won’t make a fool of myself. I hate small talk.”

As soon as you were gone, someone took your place by Bucky’s side. You grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and made your way over to the curator. You didn’t drink alcohol but the glass made you look like you were part of their little group.

It went horribly wrong; you stuttered when you said your name and everything went downhill after that. While you were talking, he subtly looked around to see if he could find a more interesting person to talk to, which made you stutter even more. Then as you opened your clutch and fished out a card, several others fell at your feet in slow motion.

Between the dress, the glass and the shoes, it was practically impossible to bend over. The curator left and you stood there alone.

“Let me help you,” one of the waiters said. He gathered up your business cards and handed them to you.

You sheepishly took the cards and shoved them back in your purse. “Thanks. Can you take this? I’m not going to drink it.”

“Would you like something else to drink?” he asked as he took your glass of champagne.

“No, thank you. I... I think I’m going to go find my friend.”

You smiled politely at the young man but he had a strange look on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“I saw you with Mr. Thomas,” he finally said. “I’m not supposed to talk to the guests but can you tell him I love his work.”

“I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Grant Thomas,” the waiter pressed on. “The writer. I saw you two together.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “He only has one arm.”

Oh...

Grant Thomas was Bucky’s pen name.  

Your face broke out into a huge smile and you started giggling to yourself. The waiter recoiled a bit, confused and a little freaked out. You scanned the room for Bucky.

“Of course, I’ll tell him,” you told the waiter. “He’ll be very pleased to hear it.”

You went in search of Bucky, wobbling around in your high heels, a permanent smile on your face. After walking around for a few minutes, you felt more stable and in control, even going so far as to power walk from room to room.

You found him in the Hall of Ocean Life, entertaining a small group of people. You walked over to him, your heels clicking like typewriter keys. You heard bits and pieces of their conversation as you approached.

“Oh, it’s absolutely lovely,” a woman cooed, a hand over her heart. “Who was your inspiration for your new book, Grant?”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly when he saw you. You gave him a small wave and he held out his hand in your direction. He introduced you to the group, and while it was strange to hear him say your name, you kept a straight face.

“I’ve looked everywhere for you, Grant,” you told him, emphasizing his pen name. “I should have known I'd find you in good company.”

“Oh, she’s the painter,” the woman said. “Darling, I hope you don’t mind me saying this but-” she extended her arms in your direction “wow!”

The woman next to her looked half amused, half exasperated. “It means you look beautiful in that dress.”

“Oh, she knows what it means, Sylvia.” The ‘oh’ woman swatted Bucky’s fake arm. “Grant, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Bucky looked at you with a fond smile. “Yes, she is.”

“Oh, my heart is about to explode,” the ‘oh’ woman squealed before enthusiastically waving to someone behind Bucky. “Sylvia, darling, take her contact details. We need new blood at the gallery. Please, excuse me, I haven’t seen Michael in ages,” she said, stretching out the last word.

She was gone before you could comprehend what was happening. Her laughter echoed through the room. Oh, I hadn’t seen the back of that dress! Sweet baby Jesus!

You found her whimsical and quite intense but if you had to work for her, you’d probably end up looking like her assistant, Sylvia, who seemed at her wits’ end.

She sighed and opened her leather-bound notebook. There were several business cards attached to the pages with paperclips. You handed her one of your business cards as her boss shouted, Oh, Michael, isn’t this party deliiightful? It was Sylvia’s cue to leave.

“Thank you. We’ll take a look at your work and get back to you as soon as we can. Enjoy your night.”

Sylvia rushed to her boss who was looking around like a lost puppy. When she saw her assistant, a look of relief crossed her face. It was a little over the top but it made you smile.

“So, Grant Thomas,” you said, planting yourself directly in front of Bucky now that you were alone. “Cute name.”

“Agh, I wanted to tell you before the party but...” He shrugged. “How did you figure it out?”

“One of the waiters saw us together. He’s your biggest fan. Said you were talented, humble and devilishly handsome in that suit.”

“The waiter said that?” Bucky asked with a frown as he led you toward an empty corridor.

“I think he has a crush on you.”

“I seem to have that effect on people,” he said, linking his arm through yours.

“So humble.” You entered the Hall of Biodiversity together. “What’s the meaning behind your pen name?”

There was a small pause before he answered. “Grant is Steve’s middle name, Thomas is Sam’s. I wanted to honor them. Steve literally saved my life, and Sam... well, he stood by my side even when we barely knew each other.”

“I’m sure they were touched.”

“Meh,” Bucky said with a grimace. “Steve said it sounded like a fake name, and Sam tried to make me use ‘Thomas Grant’ instead. I think deep down they like it.” He turned his head to look at you. “How did it go with the curator?”

You cringed. “Just to give you an idea, imagine an amateur magician performing at their first show. I was sweating, I stuttered, and I dropped my cards. It was awful.”

He laughed softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m not upset. At least he’ll remember me, right?”

You spent the next couple of hours mingling with a bunch of rich people; most of them were incredibly weird, the others were strangely relatable. You were a lot more cool and collected with Bucky by your side. He always had really nice things to say about you or your paintings, and his words rang true, giving you yet another reason to fall for him.

When you reached the planetarium, Bucky took your hand in his, his eyes sparkling with childlike wonder.

You practically had the place to yourselves, everyone else was either in the Grand Gallery or in the Roosevelt Memorial. Since no one was around, you decided to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot.

You lost track of time, listening to Bucky’s stories about the universe as he guided you along the spiralling walkway.  

“We’re just tiny little specks living on a bigger speck, floating around,” he said, gazing up at a model of Jupiter hanging from the ceiling. “Our time here is so limited, our bodies are so fragile.”

“Umm,” you hummed. “At least we’re not at the bottom of the food chain.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that would be a bummer.”

“Do you know who’s at the bottom of the food chain?” you asked. “French fries. I’m starving.”

His laughter rang out, loud and clear, in the silence of the planetarium. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

You headed for the coat-check room, where Bucky left one of his ridiculously generous tips, and stepped outside, shivering from the cold winter night. You looked up at the stars glistening in the dark sky while you walked the short distance to the fast food restaurant.

You ate your fries in silence as you glanced around the restaurant. It was bright and gave off a friendly vibe. There were several other patrons even though it was almost two in the morning, though you and Bucky were the only ones wearing designer clothes.

Your high heels and clutch rested on the booth next to your hip, and Bucky’s bow tie was tied around your wrist. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a tanned, muscular chest and a smattering of dark hair.

Bucky had removed his prosthetic after you’d found a booth. His fake arm rested on the table, scaring the hell out of the waitress when she came to take your order. Bucky apologized profusely, probably mentally adding another twenty to her tip.

You dozed off in the cab, utterly exhausted, your cheek resting against his shoulder. His arm was draped over your shoulders, his thumb sweeping up and down your collarbone. When you remembered that you still had to remove your makeup before going to bed, you let out a whine and nestled closer to him. He rested his head on top of yours, and you closed your eyes, enjoying his closeness.

A few days later, you told Natasha about the party, and she reminded you to be careful, to protect your heart. She wished someone had given her this advice when she’d met Sam.

It had never occurred to you that Natasha might have feelings for Sam, not because he was an awful person. No, it was quite the opposite. He was handsome and funny, always looking for some kind of trouble. She’d mentioned multiple times that he was really good in bed, which honestly didn’t surprise you.

You knew she liked him, but you didn’t know she liked him.

On your way home, you mulled over the things she had told you. About a block away from your apartment, you took your keys out of your pocket and stared at the little angel keychain, wondering if your feelings for Bucky were real. The line between friends and lovers was definitely blurred but you couldn’t cross it. There was too much at stake, you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship.

As you turned the corner into your street, you spotted someone standing outside the building’s front door. You slowed down, dawdled, so you could observe them.

You couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, though you suspected a man. They were carrying a traveller’s backpack on their shoulders, blocking your view. Whoever it was, they had a fantastic ass.

They pushed the intercom button, waited a few seconds and pushed it again. When the doors remained closed, they turned around to leave and you came face-to-face with a man with long dirty blond hair, a bushy ginger beard and striking baby blue eyes. You immediately recognized him from the photos you’d seen on Bucky’s laptop.

“Oh my God, Steve!” you exclaimed, startling him.

Part 8

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

Hello! I enjoy your Beatles analysis a lot, and I'm really curious what you think about Paul and his connection with John. Some people do seem to think Paul might be bi (sexual, curious?), but even with so-called "proof" I'm not sure. Even if his attraction to John wasn't sexual, was it was romantic? It seems like it was in a way--he seemed to view John as one of, if not the most, important male in his life. I'm curious what you think and if there's any proof that Paul could be bi. Thanks!

Firstly, just wanna say that I really appreciate that you enjoy my Beatles analysis’ - cheers! And this is a really interesting ask btw!

But moving onto your question concerning what I make I of Pauls sexuality, and his relationship with John, im going to primarily give and short and blunt response, (but I will elaborate):

Personally, I think that Paul is straight, because I just can’t see a convincing amount of evidence for him being bi or gay. There are moments and interviews etc. that make me question the nature of John and Pauls relationship, but overall I’ve just never heard an argument that has given me reason enough to doubt Pauls heterosexuality.

The key reasons I think Paul is straight are: 1. He asserts that he is straight (he could be lying, but I think his word is at least worth something), 2. Ive heard few rumours about him being bi/gay, 3. The "evidence" that he's bi/gay just isn't strong enough for me.

I got another anon ask asking me what I think about Pauls sexuality, so if you want to hear me elaborate on these points, look out for that post later.

But concerning his relationship with John, thats a complicated matter. I think that there is a real tragedy within their relationship, because realistically I think Paul was never able to return Johns feelings and advances. And Pauls inability to return these feelings I feel left John bitter and resentful. I should note that I don’t know whether John ever actually made a real advance on Paul (perhaps - it does seem very possible he did, but I don’t think the evidence is there to suggest with real certainty that he did; but I have a post here on my thoughts on that if you want to read that).

I think possibly you could argue that Paul has romantic feelings for John, as you could point to aspects of their relationship that might suggest some romantic attachment. For instance, the sheer hold John held over him is perhaps suggestive of this attachment (there's an interview from the 70s that comes to mind, where Paul is asked about John, and he almost starts crying - Linda has to come to the rescue. Ive had a good look around for it, but I cant find it, so if anyone can think what im on about please send me the video!)

Or certain song lyrics might suggest an romantic attachment - though ive mentioned in the past that im not particularly in favour of using lyrics as “evidence”; but I do think they can possibly suggest something in the wider context of their relationship. Songs like "Dear Boy" and "The Long and Winding Road" feel especially suggestive of this.

Personally though, I think that Paul just genuinely loved and cared for John, and did what he could to try and maintain their relationship - and he did this with an enormous amount of patience and understanding and forgiveness towards John. And I wouldn’t really know if that was romantic or solely just one human being caring immensely for another - it’s difficult to say. Overall though, I lean more towards the belief that John was just a person he cared for immensely, but not romantically, because there appears to be absence of evidence that he was romantically attracted towards John.

But even if these romantic feelings towards John existed, I still don’t think Paul was ever able to relate to him sexually or even really romantically - and so, in my opinion, thats where the real tragedy lies between two. All this built up energy, all this potential - and still no resolve.*

Of course, anyone is entitled to their own opinion, and if you believe Paul is bi, then thats your perception. Your welcome to try and change my mind, but I feel like id need some really concrete evidence to cast doubt upon my belief. But I enjoy talking to you guys, so feel free to send stuff to my inbox!

*although again I feel I should not that I don’t think that their relationship would have worked out in the end, even if they had pursued a romantic/sexual relationship. There was too much turmoil in my honest opinion.

[dadsbongos]

Hey, Arvin?

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All The Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: spoilers for the movie? idk, post-ending time Summary: Self-doubt is often clouded as banter, and Arvin knows that better than anybody - especially after growing close to a certain farm girl. ~~~

Arvin didn't know he would wind up on a farm in the outskirted heart of Terrace Park. He truly did mean to sign himself to war in Cincinnati but it just never happened. A lot of things just didn't seem to work out for Arvin, so he didn't bother himself over it too much - not after everything he'd already done. Besides, his work was good and honest and the people who'd taken him in were good and honest.

Father, uncle, sons, and daughter. They were tight-knit - they had to be with the distant lands they'd been handed as a living space. No neighbors for miles, the children only had each other and the animals to play with until he came along. When the uncle came into a bar within town at sundown and convinced Arvin that being a farmhand was a good life. Now, Arvin was up before the sun with calluses burning at his hands and two young boys clinging to his boots as he went around the farm. But he can't say he hated it.

The two boys, only one year apart from each other and over ten years from him, were like little brothers to Arvin at this point. They were balls of sunshine throughout the home and if they wanted to lend a sinner like him some light, who was he to refuse?

The uncle, the man who'd found him that night, was deceptively sweet. A hulking figure with a soft heart beneath all the muscle. Deceptively smart, too. He'd gone to a life of education before coming to his brother-in-law's side at the farm. He was like a mentor and guiding hand, a kind one, a patient one. One who wanted the best for his loved ones; his nephews and niece, his brother by marriage, and for Arvin himself.

The father was largely unknown to Arvin. Gone away on matters that nobody seemed to know. Personal business. According to the boys, he used to be an involved and loving man until their mother fell ill and eventually died. And Arvin felt sickened upon that news. He felt pity for the children, he knew what it was like to be young and not understand why your mother had to go and your father was bent on going too. He could only pray that their father didn't go down the path his own had.

The daughter, their ages matching, was his favorite to spend time with. She wouldn't do her chores when the others were around, preferring to sit and watch her family as they did theirs. She would trail Arvin around the farm and talk as he worked. Sometimes she asked about what the town was like, other times she would tease him about being so quiet. Playful. Had enough heart to apologize if she ever felt that she crossed a line. He liked that about her. He liked a lot of things about her.

"Hey, Arvin?"

It was a simple phrase, one he'd heard countless times, but it was different from her. A teasing tone and a smile to match - her legs kicking out as she sat atop a stack of hay and watched Arvin brush the horses' manes.

"What is it, darlin'?"

"You ever take Arkle out for a midnight ride?"

She knew he did. She had to have. Why else would she bother with such a question?

"Just askin' since I hadn't found him out here last night. Figured he'd gotten out until I saw you out in the field with him."

Arvin pulled away from May's dirty brown mane to give the girl a quirked brow, "Why bother askin' if you already knew the answer?"

"I like seein' ya get all flustered. Thought you'd figured that out by now."

"Well, what were you doin' out here so late then?" Arvin returned to the horses as he asked.

"Just thinkin' was all."

"That right?" he spared the girl a quick glance, "What was that head a' yours so troubled with?"

She ignored his question and that didn't surprise him. She didn't like exposing her thoughts to anyone. Kept her worries and doubts to herself like they were precious gems, and with as little as this family had, they might as well have been. When you don't have much to call your own, your thoughts and feelings start to feel like little treasures. Arvin knew that first-hand and he wasn't about to steal someone's treasures by digging where he didn't belong.

"You ain't gotta tell me," he only said it to ease the tension of having been brushed over, "Just know I'm here. You follow me around all day, might as well talk to me if you need to."

The last thing he needed - or wanted - was to lose another person in his life. Especially if just talking to them could've prevented it. He knows he should've been keeping a better eye on Lenora and he hopes beyond hope she forgives him for that. He prays that her and her baby are well-cared for in heaven. If anybody deserves to be in the eternal sweetspot of God's domain, it's his dear sister.

"Hey, Arvin?"

Today, he was shucking corn, seated on a barrel, when she called to him from behind. He turned his head and nodded to let her know he was listening.

"You were awful quiet at breakfast this morning. Barely spoke to the boys at all."

"Just thinkin', darlin'. You ain't gotta worry 'bout me."

"I'll always worry 'bout you, Arvin," he feels her hands settle on his shoulders, "You came into Terrace Park alone. You got brought in by Uncle. You're around my baby brothers all the time. My boys, Arvin. My boys. We might share an age but we ain't share a brain. All I can see into your head is all I know about mine. It ain't just for you, Arvin. My daddy hasn't been the same since Mama passed and someone's gotta take care of the family. Uncle loves you to death and I don't blame him, but I'm still worryin'."

He got it. He understood. He was that way with Lenora, and he just wishes he could've done better to protect her. He wishes he could've keep his father around. He wishes his mother wasn't robbed from him so soon. He wishes he had less blood on his hands.

"Can I ease your worries at all?" he returns to his task of shucking corn.

"Where'd you get in from? Why're you here?"

"Knockemstiff. Coal Creek. Nowhere too far," he inhaled sharply as he went to begin his tale of why he left, leaving out certain unsavory details, "I had a sister. She was sweet. Lonely. I left her alone with the wrong sonofabitch," he felt anger begin boiling inside his veins as he relived that day, "she killed herself over him so I… I left. Had nothin' else there for me than makin' sure she was okay and I couldn't even do that."

"Arvin," she leans forward and presses her hands over his, "you didn't hafta tell me if it was so personal. 'M sorry I pried. Sorry about your sister, too, that's awful."

"No," he drops the corn when he realizes how shaky his hands have gotten, "I needed to get that out," he feels his heart burn the longer that her hands rest on his, "I still miss her. I shoulda been there."

Earskell should've kept tighter watch like he'd said.

Those bullies should've known better than to pick on Lenora.

Teagardin should've followed the book he read by.

"Can I hold you, Arvin?" it's barely a whisper.

He doesn't nod. If he wasn't the one to take initiative and press himself back into her chest then she wouldn't have gotten an answer at all. Her arms come around Arvin's shoulders and circle his chest tighter as his eyes water.

"It ain't your fault. It's that bastard, you know that, don't you?" she pressed her lips to his forehead and rested a cheek to the top of his head, fingers running through his hair, "It ain't your fault. Never was. Never will be."

He appreciates the sentiment even though he knows, deep down inside himself, that he'll never truly believe it. It's kind of her to care so much about a boy like him. He hopes she never has to feel the pain he knows so intimately and he hopes he can protect her brothers like he never got to with Lenora. If not to protect the softness in his own heart for them, then for the sake of a farm girl who's holding him so close as he cries in a cornfield.

"Hey, Arvin?"

It's hours past late and he hasn't been able to catch a wink of sleep. The dining table he's seated himself at is swamped in darkness and he's surprised she can even make out his figure.

"Late night, darlin'?"

"Heard you gettin' up. What're you doin' out here? I know it ain't eatin'."

"How can you tell?"

"Eatin' so late with not even a candle is just sad, Arvin. We got more to worry about than sleepin' if that's what you're doin'."

He grins at her answer and shakes his head, "Just can't sleep. You go on to bed; need your beauty rest."

It's that idea that has her feet practically cemented to the ground and her brows furrowing in her self-consciousness. She feels her gut twist at the mention of her needing beauty sleep even though she knows that's not how he meant it.

"Hey Arvin…?"

He nods before remembering she can't see him, "What is it, darlin'?"

"Do…" she presses her lips into a thin line before finally spewing out the question, "d'you think I'm pretty?"

"Well, what kind a' question is that? Wouldn't your daddy kill me for somethin' like that."

"Daddy ain't around long enough."

"I think you're plenty pretty, darlin', but don't worry 'bout what me or what any other boy has to say on your looks, you hear me? Ain't no boy in control of your body, so don't let any of 'em take anythin' from you," Arvin's quiet, voice rasped, "Nobody livin' in that body 'sides you, so you just make sure you like yourself before worryin' on what anyone else has to say."

He thought she was breathtaking, intelligent, fun - he wouldn't ramble on it for as long as he wished only because he wanted her to realize what truly mattered. She was clearly nervous in awaiting his response, if the quivers in her voice were anything to go by, and he wanted to answer this right. He wanted her to know that at the end of the day, all that mattered was her opinion on herself - because she, and she alone, was inside that body until it died. She had to love herself before someone like him had any say. Arvin's learned how to handle such situations since losing the only people he's ever cared for.

"You really think that?"

"Absolutely, darlin'," he nodded before coming to a stand and beginning to walk out of the kitchen, "You should get to bed now."

"Arvin," she reached up and took his shoulders into her hand before pressing a kiss to his cheek once she could make it out from the darkness, "you're a real sweetheart, you know that?"

"I'm just me. Ain't the best man, ain't the worst. But I appreciate the compliment," he swallowed down his nerves and kissed her forehead gently, "Sleep well, now, darlin'."

"Hey, Arvin?" she murmurs as he begins his trek back to his room.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you… for everything. I know you haven't been here the longest, but I can't imagine us without you now."

"I can't imagine me without any a' you either, so don't worry about thankin' me, darlin'."

[chalkrevelations]

Huh.

Well, this is not the next episode reaction you were expecting, but a while back, in the middle of the night, while I was ready to cry from working on a pharmacology paper, out of nowhere, Youtube threw up Street Dance of China S3 Ep1 at me. And yeah. I am, admittedly, f’kn weak for a dance show. (There are enough SYTYCD episode reax on my old Livejournal that I feel there’s no point denying this.)

So – no, actually, wait. FIRST of all, I do NOT believe the “towel vote” we ended up being given for the opening routines from the four captains. That was the most blatant bit of bullshit chicanery I’ve seen in my LIFE, and I say this as a person with a ton of SYTYCD episode reax on my old Livejournal, and I also say this not because Wang Yibo ended up last (well, not entirely), but because I saw Wallace Chung’s routine. As someone closer in age to him than to the other three captains, I have to give him props for trying, but come on, man. The critique that Yibo got from random contestants – if the subtitles are to be believed, so I realize this needs a grain of salt - basically boiled down to “it was too good for the stage lighting.” :hands: Also, I saw your face at the reveal, Wallace, and you were as shocked as I was. No way you got more towels/votes than Wang Yibo. Not unless there’s some super wild undercurrent of nostalgia propping you up, which, I guess could happen, because literally all I know about pop culture in China, current or otherwise, is filtered through Tumblr and Youtube, both notoriously suspect, but … anyway. There’s got to be a TON of behind-the-scenes manipulation going on for Yibo to be rock-bottom with last pick of teams but then also to end up with THAT pool of possibles. Are you kidding me with this?

ANYWAY, what I wanted to say is that I actually really like Wang Yibo here, and it’s not just because he’s the only captain I have even a sliver of familiarity with, and it’s not just because Lan Wangji was banging Wei Wuxian. I do realize all of this is influenced by whatever edit they’ve decided to give a particular captain or contestant, but I’m impressed with the way Yibo immediately starts team building by getting his group into a warmup, getting them dancing together, getting them dancing with him before they have to worry about dancing for him. (I mean, come on, Jackson Wang. The way to get people to stop being nervous is not to say “Stop being nervous! It will make you fuck up!”) The way Yibo immediately recognized and responded to his group’s concerns about that one dude copying someone else’s routine probably also bought him a lot of return investment. He’s dressed to work it, in his sweats and his flannel (what IS that fake-leather TAC vest and random leg holster-looking thing, Jackson Wang?). He’s convincing me he really loves to dance, he can’t hold still while he watches the contestants, he’s wandering over into other captains’ turf when it sounds like there’s a dancer performing who he might like to see, he’s being the best Yibo he can be, and I’m grooving along, wind in my hair, totally down for this ride. He’s also adorable at the beginning when all the other captains are like, my goal for this season is to slaughter the competition and dance on their graves! And he’s like, well, I’d like to … make some friends? And learn some new stuff? I don’t know if the perpetual Humble Student schtick is natural or persona, or whether it’s general or specific to dancing, but it’s working for you, my dude. This is also made better (read: ironic), by the fact that it’s immediately before the towel reveal, when he flips over to utter disbelief and gets all sulky for a while over the “fact” that his dance routine got the least votes.

Also, OH WAIT. This is where that clip of Yibo dancing with his crew ALL OVER HIM came from that I saw floating around a few months ago, isn’t it? You’re telling me those guys had never danced together before and had like, three minutes to throw together that routine? I’m even more impressed than before. Meanwhile, the towels symbolize courage and challenge, Mr. Emcee? OK, fine, cheesy reality show blah blah whatever. Can we get to the dancing now?

I’m going to put the rest of this behind a cut, because it got super long, because it turns out, when you watch in 5-minute increments, it takes two and a half weeks to get through a single episode, but you actually can see and have opinions on all 5,328 contestants, plus every single one of the captains’ battles. Meanwhile, I’m trying to convince myself this is not going to be another series of episode reactions, but 1) I do have the benefit of not having a ton of hometown media giving me a next-day play-by-play, so even though this is six months old, everything’s a surprise; 2) I am, admittedly, f’kn weak for a dance show; and 3) it’s easy to watch in 5-minute increments between researching drug interactions in hypothetical hypertensive patients with stable ischemic heart disease, erectile dysfunction, and seasonal allergies. So, I guess we’ll see. It’ll be slow going, though, because I don’t ever have two and half hours to sit down and watch an ep cover-to-cover – if it happens, it will likely keep happening in 5-minute increments. Meanwhile, there is a metric shit-ton of nattering below the cut, so caveat lector. No, seriously, I kept adding to this little by little until it became a monster. Hashtag long post (remorseful).

OK, I am generally out of my depth here, as this is not at all my area of dance not-really-expertise, but some reactions:

Team Wang Yibo: I can see why he didn’t want to choose between Colin and Dian Men – Colin might have been a touch better technically and a better showman, but Dian Men didn’t seem to have a single wasted move – but, also, my dude. Yibo. You maybe should look a little bit less stunned and overwhelmed by the mere presence of Colin, it’s giving me ideas about your taste in men. Continuing with the powerhouses, I probably shouldn’t even attempt to critique Klash, but I did feel like he was a bit stiff in some of his footwork; that final V kick, though, shit, that’s what having that kind of upper-body strength is for. Bouboo … I mean, excellent flexibility and control, of course, but mainly I’m just terribly amused that Yibo got last pick of teams but somehow ended up with the guy who’s literal world champion, and who’s just as useful for getting into the other captains’ heads – without even trying – as he is for his talent. And then there’s a montage of Yibo giving out towel after towel after towel, and my dude, you cannot keep up this pace. There are still too many dancers to see, and you don’t have that many towels. AAANNNND Towel Battle #1 (See Footnote 1).

Team Jackson Wang: I do like Gai Gai, although that may be influenced by the fact she’s working in the twilight area between hip-hop and contemporary that I have more familiarity with - but also, I suspect she’s pretty good in her genre. I thought Xiao Jie was inconsistent and didn’t stick the landing on his initial attempt, so I have to give you that hesitation, Jackson, even though you’ve somehow ended up the villain in my inner narrative for this show, for no particular reason I can yet discern. Maybe it’s that you’re the direct competition for Yibo’s team in the towel battles. Good enough. Anyway, Xiao Jie definitely stepped up his game for the battle with Bingo, so I can kind of see why both of them got a towel, but we’re not even halfway through this, and most of y’all are giving away towels like you have an endless supply. Yang Kai is a fucking menace with fantastic musicality, and I’m just gonna say it and take the fallout - I think he gave a better performance first time out of the gate than any of Yibo’s powerhouses did. Whatever power Klash has got, whatever skill Bouboo has got, Yang Kai feels more explosive and engaging, at least in these initial showings. He’s going to be one to beat, I’d hug him too, if he was on my team and was going to help me WIN. Yibo’s probably lucky that happened during his little stroll over to check out the competition, so that he can see they’re definitely competitive and be prepared for it. Also, Jackson, I have to admit - that face you made when Chao really kicked in? That was the same face I made, because wt actual f, you have a literal secret weapon – secret because he CAME FROM NOWHERE and NO ONE EVEN KNOWS him, how is that even possible, how did he get that good – fluid, creative, controlled, incredible musicality - without anyone having any idea who he even is? And then there’s a montage of Jackson just giving out towel after towel after towel, and my dude, you need to slow down. You can’t just be like, “THEY LOVE DANCE WITH ALL OF THEIR WHOLE HEARTS!!!!1111!!!!11!” I get it, but everyone there loves dance with all of their whole hearts, and there are not enough towels to send all of them on to the next round. ANNNND, Towel Battle #1 (See Footnote 1).

Team Lay Zhang: lol at how diplomatic you’re being, Lay Zhang – your team’s fierce roar startled you, OK. At this point, I suspect you’re the street most likely to have a knife fight break out before this is all over. I do like Alex, I think he’s got a lot of interesting, super-clean details in his moves, and he’s engaging - I cannot BELIEVE you made him battle that dude whose moves were so mushy, Lay Zhang, it leaves me doubting your ability to judge this thing. At first I thought maybe you were just looking for an excuse because you wanted to see Alex freestyle, but then you actually said something about both dancers being equal, and my estimation of you plummeted, and also sadly, my sound dropped out for the actual battle, including the part where the clearly inferior dancer fell over and then accidentally POPPED ALEX ONE IN THE EYE, and I TOLD YOU SO. I do agree it’s a good idea to make dancers in the same genre do some battling, so you can kind of plan out your towels and put together a team with broad strengths, instead of giving out towels like you’re making it rain for the first 20 contestants, and then you have 1,375 more people to get through, with 3 towels left, as EVERYONE ELSE seems to be doing, so it’s nice that at least one of you guys is thinking – if not actually acting - strategically. That was clearly not even a contest, though, GIVE ALEX HIS TOWEL and send him to the next round. Xiao Bao is hilarious, with his concern that his team captain, who’s into krump, which is “beating,” isn’t going to appreciate his waacking, which is “slapping.” I also don’t know a whole lot about waacking, so thanks for the primer, Xiao Bao, and don’t worry, your performance is just as engaging for those of us who don’t know what we’re watching as you are generally. You deserve that towel for your ability to interact with and engage your audience, alone. Lingo is a good solid performance, although he’s got his team captain strategizing edited over some of it, and here’s the thing: we are 1:56:00 into this, at this point, with another half hour to go, and all of you are starting to disappear into the sea of dancers who are very good at what you do, but at generally the same level? Anyway, Lingo, I approve of your ability to interact with your audience (read: your captain) to ensure engagement, too, so keep that up. Annnd, we actually haven’t seen that much of you guys, but it’s time for Towel Battle #2 (See Footnote 2).

Team Wallace Chung: I’m glad Su Lian Ya insisted on performing, I thought she started off slow but warmed up, and that ending was creepily fantastic and had me spontaneously grinning at the screen in delight. Then we lose sight of this group for a really long time, actually. We go back to find Wallace putting through a couple of urban dancers who we barely see, but who apparently claim to have some choreography experience, and he really likes that. TI shows up, and they’re solid, but honestly, not as good in this performance as they were in some of the stock footage the show threw up to introduce them, but Wallace remains super-excited about the idea of choreography and sends at least choreographer Zhang Jiang Peng through to the next round. And then, we really haven’t seen that much of you guys, either, which maybe doesn’t bode well, but it’s time for Towel Battle #2 (See Footnote 2).

FOOTNOTE 1, aka TOWEL BATTLE ONE, Team Yibo vs. Team Jackson, 3V3 freestyle: First of all, I have to say, I love Yibo - Mr. I Just Wanna Make Some Friends And Have Some Fun - being all, “I have three crappy white towels I’m stuck with for coming in last place that I can’t use to send dancers to the next round and that I DO NOT DESERVE, and I am getting BACK the colorful towels that ARE RIGHTFULLY MINE. I am coming for whoever is in my way.” Team Yibo is Bouboo, Klash, Dian Men, and OK, given what we’ve seen so far, that’s the safe choice, but honestly, I think we’re just taking some things for granted right now, and I’m not sure they actually have given the best performances so far. Yeah, I said it. Team Jackson is Yang Kai, Chao, and Xiao Jie, and … ok, on that last one, I think you probably could have substituted Bingo, but all right. Yang Kai is a definite yes. Chao will be great if he can stay out of his own head and not psych himself out, but given what we’ve seen so far, he’s an obvious pick. First round, Yang Kai vs. Klash, and Yang Kai is still a fucking menace, with super lines. Klash definitely stepped up his game for the battle, and I can’t get over the upper body strength he’s got, to get that kind of airy bounce in his moves, but to be honest, I can’t even be mad the first round went to Yang Kai and Team Jackson. Second round, Yang Kai is still … y’all, the beautiful lines from this guy in his poses, I can’t get over them, but I think he doesn’t have the stamina, his footwork is getting sloppy. Bouboo also steps up his game for an actual battle, his fluidity and control is amazing, and yeah, round to Team Yibo. Round three, Xiao Jie gives it a decent effort, but the polish isn’t there; meanwhile Bouboo is still in champion mode, and I was kind of surprised this was a split vote and went to another round. Xiao Jie absolutely surprised me, coming back stronger on his second try, although I suppose a more familiar genre helped, but Bouboo continues in champion mode. Round four, Chao looks like he’s going to throw up right before he steps out there, and then as soon as the music starts, it’s like, he doesn’t even think. The music just moves him. I feel like his dance vocabulary is more limited than Bouboo’s, though, and Bouboo’s flow is amazing at this point, so I feel like the judges just want to drag this out and see more dancing when we go to one more round. Strong effort all around, but yeah, round four and two towels to Team Yibo. I can’t really complain about that. I do feel like Yibo’s powerhouses have been holding back until now, though, and I’m not sure how I feel about THAT.

FOOTNOTE 2, aka TOWEL BATTLE TWO, Team Zhang vs. Team Wallace, 3V3 w/ captain: lol, Team Zhang really wants someone to pick the Sailor Moon song because they know Xiao Bao and his waacking will tear it up. Anyway, Team Zhang includes Lingo and Xiao Bao, who does not get his Sailor Moon song and continues to be hilarious in his disbelief about being chosen to participate in this battle, when he’s not looking almost as sick as Chao from Team Jackson before HIS performance. Team Wallace includes Su Lian Ya – and honestly, despite how I’m getting ready to bag on him for the entire rest of this battle recap, I like that Wallace put one of his female dancers up there for the battle - and some dude named Ba that they haven’t given us any footage of, up ‘til now, at least that I can remember and who I … don’t even know has been formally given a towel and sent on to the next round, yet? Oh wait, he must have, because there’s talk in the pause for choreography about somehow using the towels during the battle. Wallace relies on Su Lian Ya and Zhang Jiang Peng to choose Ba, and then Ba ends up choreographing a lot of the performance, at least from the edit we see. I continue to feel you may be in over your head, Wallace. This feeling … is not assuaged by your performance in the first round, which is fine, but not really up to the level of almost anyone whose name I’ve bolded so far in this entire recap. Also, using the towels was a cute idea, but it doesn’t translate well, and Team Wallace has a lot of wasted time throwing the towels around instead of actually. You know. Dancing. Lingo gets a credible solo during Team Zhang’s performance, and even though Xiao Bao is clearly lost during a good bit of his backup dancer duties, he manages not to throw up, which – given this team’s general skill level – should be enough to give them the first round, EXCEPT SOMEHOW Team Wallace gets the point from the judges, who then try to justify this inexplicable decision by saying Team Wallace had better interaction, I guess because of the hot mess with throwing the towels around, but adding that Team Zhang was more scattered, which what? More scattered than the hot mess with the towels? I’m not buying this. I can’t tell if they’re propping up Wallace or fucking with Lay Zhang’s head, but I’m having bad acid flashbacks to the many and varied ways dance show judges will try to gaslight you, telling you that things you just saw with your very own eyes did not actually happen when it’s right there! On camera! Visible, despite whatever edit bs you’re pulling! ANYWAY, they’re definitely managing to fuck with not only Lay Zhang’s head, but Xiao Bao’s, and Xiao Bao still doesn’t seem to have his choreography down, but they manage to pull it together enough to take the second round, which to be honest is kind of a muddled mess on everyone’s part. The only one who really stands out to me on this go’round is Su Lian Ya, but OK, Team Zhang might have had it slightly more together as a unit. And then, yeah, OK, I think they were fucking with Lay Zhang’s head, because we then find out that, holy shit, the song the show powers-that-be chose for the tie-breaking third round is that gd Sailor Moon song, and we can all see the writing on the wall. Poor Team Wallace is no match for Xiao Bao, who frankly, carries this entire round on his shoulders without breaking a sweat and barely needs any backup dancers to do it. There’s some ridiculously dramatic reveal of scoring, with the judges dragging out their decisions like this was any actual contest - I’m beginning to suspect that some of them grew up with Wallace Chung posters on their bedroom walls - but finally, round and towel to Team Zhang.

Cut to a little bit of Next Time On, and wow, the first two-and-a-half-hour episode is over, and we aren’t finished with the initial round yet. It’s gonna be Christmas before I make it halfway through this season.

[notveryglittery]

absolutely smitten

summary: sometimes your coworkers are ridiculously in love but too dumb to make a move so obviously you've got to give them a push in the right direction. wc: 4,700 / ship: roman/patton (royality) content: human au, actor au. patton-centric. some crying, some kissing. mutual, oblivious pining. confessions of ~love~! background talyn, joan, remy, and thomas.  background brotherly moxiety, romantic analogical, and frenemies(?) moceit. janus is kind of an asshole (but that’s patton’s opinion dot vine).  author’s note: so, sometime in october 2019, i saw this post by @sirasanders  for the first time ever which was, frankly, a Crime. because it had been posted in february 2019 and the fact that i had gone that long without seeing/being tagged in a royality post? Illegal. anyway, i was struck with inspiration and began writing and sure it might have taken nine months but... here it is! i'm really proud of it! i hope you enjoy! 

many thanks to @rosesisupposes�� for beta reading!! <3 read on ao3!

— — —

Patton was not a morning person. Sure, he liked the idea of sunrises and consistent schedules and having time to make himself a big breakfast. All of that, however, required waking up. So to put it more accurately, Patton was not a waking up person.

Usually, all it took was a cup of coffee.

Thankfully, that part was never something Patton really had to worry about. The sweet, sweet bean elixir was delivered to him personally each morning sometime after arriving on set. Something he did worry about, though? Constantly? Nearly every hour of every day? Just what exactly he and the bringer-of-drinks were.

Like… yeah! He and Roman were… friends? They were coworkers for sure, without a doubt, and Patton liked that a lot! Working with Roman never failed to brighten even his darkest days. Patton could arrive on set in the lowest of moods and sometimes all it took was one warm smile from Roman to melt the icy feeling in his veins. Sometimes, it was the way Roman would slide up next to him at the catering table, moaning about how hungry he was, asking for Patton’s opinion on what he should treat himself to. Sometimes, Roman would take Patton’s hand and lead him to The Sanders Couch and Roman would sit and then he’d pull Patton down onto his lap and they’d just stay there for a bit, Roman combing his hand through Patton’s hair and singing quietly… If Patton was being honest, that was the easiest and quickest way Roman helped him to feel better.

Just friends, though! Right?

Roman remembering Patton’s usual go-to orders from Starbucks didn’t mean anything. He was just being courteous. Maybe it wasn’t even that; maybe it was just Roman wanting to make sure Patton would be at his peak during their scenes. Actors had such bad reputations after all and the last thing Patton wanted was to be a nightmare to deal with on set. He was grateful, really, of all Roman did to help him!

He just wished he wasn’t so confused.

“Patton! Good morning!”

Okay, time to put all those confusing feelings away.

Talyn’s bright grin and brighter hair never failed to impress Patton. Maybe one day he’d learn their secret to feeling this energetic so early in the morning but until then, he’d just have to keep wishing for the day coffee chains lowered their prices.

“Morning, Tal,” Patton responded, unable to help himself as he reached out and ruffled Talyn’s colorful locks.

They grumbled and swatted his hand away. “I’d be offended that you don’t seem to realize how much time this takes but I don’t think you even know what a hairbrush is.”

Patton pouted and reached up to tug on one of his curls. “I’m hurt.”

Talyn huffed, a sort-of laugh that reminded him of Virgil, and rolled their eyes. “I’ll be extra gentle with your makeup to make up for it, then.”

Before Patton could express appreciation for the play on words, Talyn was swept up and away in a blur of blue plaid and orange. He was pretty sure it’d been Joan, given how they were scarcely seen without their tell-tale flashy beanie.

While interacting with Talyn had helped Patton wake up a little bit, he was already feeling the heaviness of being up early weighing him down again. The reminder of the scene they were supposed to be filming today probably wasn’t doing him any good, either. Not only was it going to be a lot of crying, which was already exhausting on its own, he and Roman were supposed to kiss. Patton was supposed to kiss the possibly-maybe-wouldn’t-it-be-nice love of his life.

His cheeks went hot at the very idea and Patton all but slammed his face into his hands and screamed into his palms.

“Easy, buttercup, wouldn’t want you bruising, hm?”

Patton lowered his hands and glared at Janus over his fingertips.

“Oops,” Janus smirked and stepped back. “Didn’t realize you haven’t had your coffee yet.”

Patton frowned and folded his arms over his chest. “Is it that obvious?”

Somehow, in the time it took him to blink, Janus had moved, loping around Patton with a contemplative hum. One of these days, he’d learn how Janus managed to get around so fast.

“Look,” he said, draping an arm over Patton’s shoulders and pointing, “right there.”

One of these days, Patton would stop falling for Janus’s pranks.

Today was not that day and so when Patton directed his gaze towards where Janus was gesturing, he was provided the very startling sight of Roman coming in from outside. He was practically glowing in the sunlight, his hair was tousled from the wind as if he’d rolled out of bed but left it intentionally disheveled, and they’d just made eye contact and so Patton saw clear as crystal the way Roman’s smile curled up so easily and prettily.

Oh no, he was so pretty.

Patton ducked out of Janus’s hold and bolted away, towards his dressing room.

That… could have gone worse? Yeah, he could’ve tripped while running away and face planted and made work super difficult for Talyn and ruined the whole shoot today and everyone would be mad at him for wasting their time—

“Patton?”

By absolute sheer willpower, Patton didn’t scream.

“I’ve got your caramel macchiato.”

Patton was going to melt.

“Extra extra espresso.”

Scratch that, Patton was already melting.

“Thomas said it looked like you’d need it.”

Wait, what?

Patton opened the door to handsome Roman, considerate Roman, lovely Roman, and spoke before his brain could get any more mushy at the sight of handsome considerate lovely Roman. “Thomas hasn’t even seen me today?”

Roman held the reusable tumbler out for Patton to take. “Extra caramel, too.”

Patton took the offered drink and if it weren’t for the fact that this happened nearly every morning, he’d surely have dropped it the moment his and Roman’s fingertips brushed. Thankfully, he’d gotten used to it by now. Mostly, his heart reminded him when butterflies took flight in his stomach. Right, yeah, mostly. Anyway.

“I’ll see you in a bit, then,” Roman said and Patton was probably imagining the soft earnesty in his tone. He tried to dial down his high hopes.

“In a bit, then…” Patton managed, smiling sweetly, before stepping back and closing the door.

By some miracle, he didn’t sink immediately to the ground despite definitely feeling like a melted marshmallow. Instead, he drained half of his drink and then finally let himself scream.

In a bit turned out to be a couple of hours. It wasn’t anything Patton wasn’t familiar with but that didn’t make it any less agonizing. An indie film meant a smaller crew which meant Talyn could do the makeup on only one actor at a time. Fortunately, the scenes today weren’t very extensive which meant less folks to work on. Unfortunately, the scenes weren’t extensive because they were all plenty aware of how emotionally draining they’d be and had essentially planned for it. Crying came pretty easily to Patton so he wasn’t worried about that part. It was the after: the headache, the puffy red skin, the sore throat.

Talyn muttered as they worked, wondering why they were even bothering with makeup when it was all going to be ruined by the end of filming, anyway. In the reflection of the mirror Patton was sitting in front of, he could just barely see Roman getting his hair fixed. He was gesturing, no doubt telling a story of some sort; Remy had to keep pushing his hands back down anytime they got in the way. Patton was sure the hairdresser was scowling as he worked. If anyone was less a morning person than Patton, it was Remy.

“I love that smile as much as the next, Pat,” Talyn said, sighing, “but I don’t need it just yet. I can’t work when your eyes are all cute and crinkly.”

He murmured a quick apology and schooled his expression into one carefully blank. Talyn got back to applying his eye makeup. It didn’t take much longer before they were finished and Patton was sent on his way to get his hair done next. He and Roman passed by each other and Patton did his best to not swoon quite so obviously when Roman grinned at him. This part went by considerably quicker given that Patton could no longer see Roman in any reflections and that Remy had no patience for anything taking longer than absolutely necessary. He was finished before Talyn was with Roman which meant Patton could head off to see their director for any final adjustments or tips.

Thomas looked like he’d been through the wringer and the day had barely begun. Patton was frowning as he approached, wondering if anyone had told Thomas that his shirt was inside out.

“Morning, kiddo,” Patton greeted, coming to a stop beside him.

Thomas startled, nearly dropping the script he was holding. “Patton!”

“Oops,” Patton said sheepishly, “didn’t mean to spook you.”

Thomas waved the papers dismissively. “Nah, I oughta be better aware of my surroundings. Especially with someone like Janus around.”

Patton scowled. “Yeah, he got me this morning.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Thomas responded and Patton did not like how cheeky he looked all of a sudden. “That one seemed more like a treat than it did a trick.”

Patton really wished he didn’t blush so easily! He couldn’t even try and cover his face because then he’d risk messing up Talyn’s hard work. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway,” Patton interrupted loudly before Thomas could keep teasing him. “Has anything changed with filming today that I should worry about?”

Thomas shook his head. “Nah, we’re still all on the same page.” He hesitated. “Sorry that today’s gonna be so taxing on you guys.”

“I’m just hoping we can get it done in one take.”

“If you don’t, Talyn will have to fix you up again,” a new voice said, effortlessly joining their discussion.

“Speak of the Devil,” Thomas muttered.

“And he shall appear!” Patton finished for him before turning to Janus with a glare. “You know it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

Janus shrugged carelessly. “Joan’s looking for you,” he told Thomas, as if backstage and onstage weren’t small enough for Joan to find Thomas relatively easy on their own.

Still, Thomas shot Patton an apologetic look and went off to find his best friend.

In a near perfect match of their earlier interaction, Patton faced Janus with crossed arms and a frown. “Could you stop messing with me? I really don’t need it on top of everything else going on today.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to, dear Patton,” Janus said sweetly, all faux innocence.

Patton tried to not let it get to him. The two rarely got along, even on their good days, and Janus knew this, which meant he especially delighted in bothering Patton on his bad days. There really wasn’t any reason for them to be like this except that Janus had been why Patton nearly missed his audition for this film and he’d never apologized and Patton was still holding a grudge.

“Darling, is he bothering you?”

Before Patton could react to the question, an arm slid around his shoulders. The body he was pulled against was warm and firm and smelled of cinnamon and oh no.

Janus was smirking wickedly.

“Roman,” he all but purred. “I would never bother the object of your affections. I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

Patton.exe has stopped functioning.

The conversation continued, if Janus’s moving lips were anything to go by, but none of it processed for Patton. Roman’s what? Surely they weren’t talking about him? No, it was just Janus playing another one of his mean pranks. It had to be! Roman couldn’t like Patton back because if he did… well, if he did, that meant the kiss they were supposed to share on screen today wouldn’t be quite so one-sided and… and that would mean Patton’s feelings weren’t entirely unfounded… Roman did always bring him coffee. He was there for Patton’s low moods. His smile was sometimes so sincere and soft that Patton thought he might melt anytime he was on the receiving end of it.

Patton blinked and tilted his head up just a bit so he could get a better look at his knight in shining armor. Thinking back on it, Roman was often there to help save Patton from Janus’s crueler comments or jokes. He encouraged Patton through each scene, eyes bright and eager when the camera wasn’t pointed at him. He looked a little tense and Patton wondered if he was angry with what Janus had implied or… or if he was embarrassed to be called out on his feelings.

His gaze returned to Janus and he blinked again. Sound started to filter back in. Janus sneered at him.

“Back with us, then?”

“Alright, folks!” Thomas' voice rang out then, commanding attention. “Let’s get started! If we finish early today, I’m treating y’all to ice cream!”

A chorus of cheers followed as everyone moved to get where they needed to be.

Patton slipped out from Roman’s grasp and gave him a grin that he hoped wasn’t as shaky as it felt. In theory, Roman liking him back should have been a good thing. So why was Patton feeling so icky all of a sudden? Was it because, if it were true, Roman hadn’t been the one to confess? It was hardly fair of Janus to go around sharing other people’s secrets.

“Places!”

Patton snapped out of his daze to find Roman standing in front of him. He looked concerned.

“Hey, deep breaths, okay?” He took an exaggerated one to make a point and Patton found himself mirroring it. The slow exhale lightened the weight on his shoulders.

Patton nodded and Roman smiled at him. It was that sincere, soft smile that made Patton melt and, gosh darn it, hadn’t he already done enough of that this morning?

They hurried to their spots. The script was playing through Patton’s head, his lines and then Roman’s following lines, and Patton’s reactions to each line. He focused on the scene and the reason his character was upset and how it’d feel if he were experiencing it personally. One take. They’d get this finished in one take and then Patton could have ice cream and go back to his hotel room and take a nice long nap.

It was easy to forget everything that had happened earlier once he was onstage. Patton had no trouble getting into his roles most of the time; it certainly helped having someone like Roman opposite him. Roman was the best actor he’d ever had the pleasure of working with: self-assured and reliable and knowledgeable. The confidence he exuded was often contagious. The lights came on and out of the corner of his eye, Patton saw the red light flashing on the cameras. Roman winked at him and Patton only resisted giggling like a lovestruck teenager because Thomas had just called “action!”

It went as effortlessly as it usually did. Roman recited his lines with nary a mistake. Patton worked off of him easily, responses slipping from his tongue before the worries or fears of messing up could even try to take hold. The cast and the set around them faded away until it was just Patton and Roman - Patton’s character and Roman’s character - and this moment and this scene and these feelings. He could feel the tears spilling over, his heart felt as if it were being squeezed in his chest, his throat closing up with choked back sobs. Roman’s expression only aided in Patton’s despair; he never wanted to see Roman this miserable ever again.

It felt like a dream, the way Roman’s hand came up and cradled his cheek so gently and carefully. He wiped away a few of Patton’s tears with his thumb. He wasn’t sure which of them leaned in first, just that his eyes slid closed before Roman’s lips met his. Strangely, Patton’s first thought wasn’t incoherent screaming. It was that Roman tasted of peppermint. Then it was who knew kissing distracted so well from crying? Finally, eventually, it was incoherent screaming.

“And cut!”

They didn’t leap away from each other as if electrocuted, though Patton’s surprise at the reminder that they weren’t alone did shock him. Instead, they separated slowly, Roman’s hand drifting from Patton’s face to his shoulder.

“You’re… you’re a really good kisser, Roman.”

It wasn’t until Roman’s face went bright, bright red that Patton realized what he’d said.

“That was great, guys!” Thomas exclaimed, slinging his arms around them both and shattering the fragile space between them. “We’ll look over it real quick for any glaring mistakes but I think it went perfectly! We can fix the little things in post. I think you both deserve a break.”

“Thanks,” Patton squeaked, shooting up from where he sat. “Bye!”

For the second time that day, Patton bolted away and to his dressing room.

The door had barely slammed shut behind him before Patton was diving for the countertop he’d left his phone on. He was calling his second emergency contact and throwing himself into the pile of beanbags, cushions, and pillows in one corner of the room, all in one breath.

“Hey, Pat,” answered the low, rumbling voice of his brother.

Even if Patton had wanted to coherently explain what was going on, he couldn’t have. The words came tumbling out of his mouth without any sense and he kept cycling back to “kiss” and “Roman.” It didn’t help that he was half-sobbing, half-laughing, and all-panicking. At some point, he thought Virgil might have covered up his end of the receiver and spoke to someone else, but Patton was too flustered to be sure.

“Okay, bud, let’s take a minute to breathe.”

And so Virgil counted his younger sibling through several deep breaths, inhaling four and holding four and exhaling four. Once Patton had calmed down, Virgil asked him to repeat what he’d tried to say earlier.

“Oh. Ohh, right, that scene was today.”

“Virgil,” Patton said very seriously, pacing the room back and forth. “I… I think he likes me back.”

“Nooo,” Virgil responded and Patton frowned at his tone. “Really?”

“Why’d you say it like that!”

“Dude… Roman’s crush on you is as obvious as your crush on him.”

“His what?!”

“I’m sorry to say that you got all the gay disaster genes.”

“Tell that to your unsigned Valentine’s Day confession card to Logan.”

“Hey! We agreed to never mention that again!”

There was muffled speaking on Virgil’s end of the call and Virgil snorted. “Oh, that’ll be fun,” Patton heard him say in response. Before he could ask what would be fun, there was a knock at his door.

“Patton?”

By absolute sheer willpower, Patton didn’t scream.

“Answer it before I die of tension,” Virgil deadpanned.

Would it really be so bad if he did? After everything that had happened today, it really did seem like Roman might truly like him back… Sure, Patton wanted to bury himself into a hole and never leave out of embarrassment because of what he’d said after the kiss, but… It wasn’t like they were finished filming. Patton was going to see Roman again, whether he liked it or not.

“I’m hanging up now, okay?”

“Okay,” Patton whimpered. He was frozen a few moments longer, the phone still pressed to his ear.

“I can come back later,” Roman said, voice muffled. “Or not at all, if you’d prefer that. I don’t want to make you uncomf—”

Moving faster than he thought he was physically capable, Patton dropped his cell, and lurched across the room. He yanked the door open to handsome Roman, nervous Roman, sheepish Roman, and acted before his brain could get any more conflicted at the sight of handsome nervous sheepish Roman. “Please don’t leave.”

Roman went from worrying nervously at his lower lip to a small hopeful smile. He looked… strangely vulnerable. Patton wanted to protect him from everything bad, just as Roman had supported and kept him safe in the past.

“Hi.”

“Uhm… hi,” Patton replied. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped back and gestured for Roman to enter.

For the time they’d been working together, neither had been inside the other’s dressing room. Actually, Patton hadn’t gone by Roman’s at all; maybe his was the one with the star-sticker-decorated door. Roman caught sight of Patton’s Comfort Corner and sent him a curious glance.

“It’s better than a chair?” Patton answered with a half-shrug.

“It’s like The Sanders Couch,” Roman said agreeably.

“Did Thomas ever tell you the story behind it?”

“Which one?” Roman asked, laughing. “There’s so many. He has it sent with him to every filming location, you know. Apparently, it’s magic.”

Patton’s apprehension was falling away slowly but surely and he thought it amazing how even being near Roman had that effect on him.

“May I?”

Patton blinked, confused. Roman gestured to the corner.

“Oh! Yeah! Yes, of course.” Patton hurriedly responded, stumbling a little over his words.

“May…” Roman rubbed the back of his neck and Patton didn’t understand what he could possibly have to be bashful about before remembering oh, right, he likes me back. “May we?”

It felt like Patton’s whole body was submerged in scalding hot water. “O— okay,” he squeaked. Before he could melt on the spot like his jelly-wobbly legs wanted him to, Patton joined Roman in settling cozily amongst the beanbags, cushions, and pillows.

It was like second nature to them. Without even meaning to, Patton gravitated towards Roman, curling against his side as if it was right where he belonged. Roman’s hand was carding through Patton’s hair before they’d even fully got their legs positioned just right. In the time that Patton had made this dressing room his own, he’d added frequently to this pile, and he knew for a fact that there was room enough for two people to lounge on it without having to sit too close. As if he weren’t already in a tizzy, realizing how easy it was for him and Roman to be like this… Well, it was a miracle he hadn’t fainted already.

“So…” Roman began at the same moment Patton exclaimed, “I’m sorry!”

Naturally, Roman looked bewildered.

“I should have told you sooner,” Patton barreled on. He pointedly avoided looking up, instead keeping his gaze trained on his hands folded in his lap. “I was just… scared, I guess? Mostly of rejection… uhm, duh… But also of ruining this movie for you? I didn’t want to make filming difficult for… well, for anyone! And I didn’t want to risk doing that just because of my silly feelings.”

“Silly?” Roman echoed.

“And I know it’s not something I need to apologize for,” Patton continued in a rush, “but I’m still so sorry that Janus said what he said. A… about me being the, uh… your… Well, you know. He didn’t have any right doing that.”

Roman laughed, sounding a little incredulous. Patton wasn’t sure what part Roman had trouble believing. It was true, after all! The very idea of someone spilling Patton’s crush without his say-so was absolutely horrifying.

“If I’m being completely honest?” Roman began, shifting just enough that he could cradle Patton’s cheek in his hand and tilt his face up. “I don’t think I’d have had the courage to do it myself, anyway.”

He… He was being genuine, Patton realized with a start.

“You’re the most courageous person I know!” Patton argued.

“I am also terrified of rejection,” Roman amended.

“Now hold on, if I’m scared of rejection and you’re scared of rejection, then who’s flying the plane?”

Roman laughed so hard, Patton was jostled by it in his embrace. It was a sensation he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

“Regrettably, I think that Janus is our pilot.”

Patton pouted. “Don’t like that.”

“We might owe him a thank you.”

“Don’t like that!” Patton repeated.

“Well, how about something that you do like?” Roman suggested, still holding him so carefully, still looking at him with such a sincere and soft smile. Still, there was just a hint of trepidation in his tone, the tiniest bit of unease in his eyes.

Patton realized awfully late that neither of them had actually, completely declared their feelings yet. He sat up in a hurry, placing a hand on Roman’s chest, and taking a deep breath. He thought it might give him at least a moment to sort his thoughts so that he could give Roman the confession he deserved. He thought wrong.

“You!” he practically shouted. “I like you! So much! It’s ridiculous! It’s exhilarating and scary and wonderful and well, I mean—” He stuttered to a halt, dissolving momentarily into breathless giggles. “You’re so considerate, do you know that? You care so much and you have so many little ways of showing it! And oh my god, you’re the best coworker I’ve ever had. You’re so full of passion and dedication, it’s an absolute joy to act alongside you and, and—” Again, Patton paused, but this time it was thanks to Roman’s slack-jawed awe. Raising both arms, Patton took Roman’s face in his hands and squished his cheeks a little. “And don’t even get me started on how handsome you are.”

In the time he’d known Roman, Patton had never seen him speechless. Patton was worried that he’d broken him. The seconds ticked by until, eventually, Roman made a sound akin to a tea kettle whistling. He slowly leaned in and down until Patton had to let go, instead opting to wrap his arms around Roman’s neck. With his face hidden now in Patton’s shoulder, it became clear how hard Roman was shaking.

“Was that too much?” Patton asked quietly.

Roman mumbled something but Patton couldn’t have understood it if he tried. Maybe he just needed a few minutes to collect himself. After some time, Roman did emerge, looking a bit more calm. Patton hardly had time to worry what this meant for him before Roman pulled Patton’s hands loose from where they’d been curled in the hair at the nape of his neck and held them gently in his own.

“I like you,” he started, oh-so-seriously. “I think I like you more than I like theatre?”

Patton gasped.

“Hush,” Roman teased, stifling a laugh. “I wake up some mornings and make it out of bed just because I know I’ll see you. It’s so easy to exist around you. I’ve never felt judged or hurt by you; you’re exceedingly kind and thoughtful. I cherish all of our moments, whether candid or staged. You’ve brought stability to my life in a way I never expected and I can’t tell you how important that is to me. Your grumpy pre-caffeine face cheers me up more than the sun in the sky does!”

“You hush,” Patton muttered, only able to fake offense for a few seconds.

“When Thomas takes us all out for ice cream, could we share a sundae?” Roman requested and he almost sounded shy about it. It made Patton’s heart flutter.

“There’s no one else I would want to banana split with,” Patton quipped.

Roman dropped Patton’s hands and groaned, planting his face into his palms. The last of the tension in the air vanished and Patton finally felt like he could breathe a little easier. He leaned back a little, trying to keep it together.

“Aw, come on, that was really just the cherry on top!”

Roman’s response might have been muffled but that didn’t hide the sound of his grin.

Patton shimmied and wiggled his way out of the Comfort Corner until he was back on his feet. “I hope you aren’t considering Taking Back Sun-dae,” Patton said, putting on his best pout.

“Oh my god,” Roman managed before he broke and fell into a fit of laughter.

Patton gave in too, though he was slightly distracted by the sight of Roman so carefree and happy. That was another thing he’d have to get used to, he supposed… Not that he minded. In fact, Patton decided as Roman eventually got up and pulled him into a tight, warm hug, he was really looking forward to it.

[kittyprincessofcats]

She-Ra S5 E07 - Perils of Peekablue

There might be spoilers for the rest of the season in this post!

I’ll start by saying upfront that I pretty much consider this to be the weakest episode of season 5 (or at least one of the weaker ones), even though it does move the plot along significantly. The main reason is that, as I said before, I don’t care about the group on Etheria as much as the group in space (with the exception of Scorpia and possibly Spinnetossa), so an episode like this - even though I get why it’s important - just won’t interest me as much as what the gang in space is up to.

That said, it’s not a *bad* episode or anything. Let’s get into it:

- The entire beginning scene where Adora tries to transform into She-Ra and the others keep interrupting her is absolute gold and I love everything about it. Especially Catra, OMG! The way she shows up and actually asks “Are we messing with Adora?” - She’s not even pretending to be helpful and I love that she’s bonding with Glimmer and Bow over “messing with Adora”. And how she then just flings herself onto Adora’s lap and brushes Adora’s face with her tail while cheekily saying “Yeah Adora, concentrate!” - brilliant, absolutely brilliant 🤣. And I also love how Adora doesn’t even try to push her off and actually holds her. These two are too cute.

- I also wonder if the “You can’t let distractions keep you from transforming” line was intentional foreshadowing for Shadow Weaver telling Adora that Catra’s a distraction.

- I like Catra’s new outfit! Well, it’s pretty much just her old outfit with a few adjustments. But still, nice! And she looks really cute with short hair.

- I feel like this beginning scene is pretty much here for two reasons: It sets up that Entrapta is trying to reach the rebellion on Etheria, which will be relevant at the very end of the episode, AND it shows Catra’s new outfit, so we can have a new opening now.

- Changes in the opening: Time for some really exciting mid-season opening changes! Catra’s missing from the villains’ card for the first time ever. Instead, Horde Prime’s hands are now closing around a glowing orb (I assume that’s meant to be the heart of Etheria). At the part where Catra and She-Ra fight, Catra now has short hair, She-Ra is in her new form, and instead of a snarl the fight ends with a soft smile between them (I’m not crying, you’re crying. Best opening glow-up ever! 😭). In the final heroes’ shot, Adora back to being She-Ra instead of Adora, but this time in her new form. And Catra is *finally* in the heroes’ shot as well. GOOD STUFF. (In general, I just LOVE that they actually kept updating the opening in the middle of the season. That is SO cool. But the change that really gets me is how they updated Catra and Adora’s fight, because that’s been the same since the beginning of the show and now it’s SO SWEET.)

- Okay, so my biggest problem with this episode is that the plan to find Prince Peekablue seems... kinda dumb? So they’re planning to sneak into an underwater soiree undercover and abandon everyone else at the camp to find a “hermit” no one has seen in ages because he might know where Adora and the others are? As a plan it just seems far-fetched. I get that they want to warn Adora and company that Prime is chipping people (they don’t know that Adora’s group already knows that), but how would finding Peekablue even help them achieve that? He could tell them where Adora and the others are, but... that’s it. It’s not like he can also magically communicate with Adora or anyone else. And didn’t Swift Wind tell the others last episode that Adora’s coming home and that he can feel her coming closer? So shouldn’t they already know that the group in space are on their way home? (Granted, Swift Wind told that to Micah, Frosta, Spinnerella and Netossa - but I’m assuming the rebels communicate with each other and Micah would have also told Mermista and the others?) I mean, idk how much time supposedly passed between these two episodes, so maybe it’s been a while since Elberon? Also, when did they even figure out that Horde Prime is chipping people? Last episode, Micah still said they had to “figure out what that was”. And if they know about the chips now, it might have been a good idea to check the necks of everyone at camp right away - though to be fair, they maybe didn’t realize how the chips work yet. And yeah, I am nitpicking here (and obviously the rebels have to mess up so things can go south this episode, so I guess they have to make some bad decisions.)

- That said, I love all of their outfits! And I like that Scorpia’s alias “Lynda D’Ream” is a reference to the 80s cartoon.

- Netossa’s lucky that she wears an outfit with such a high collar - makes it hard to put a chip on her neck. (Also, idk if I’ve said this before, but I love Spinnerella and Netossa’s character designs and outfits. They’re both fashion queens.)

- Just the fact that it really is Spinnetossa’s anniversary and Netossa thinks that’s why Spinnerella is acting strange - I mean, what are the odds?

- “They are my people! Which means that most of them have sworn revenge against me at some point.” Okay, that is pretty funny. And getting to meet all of Sea-Hawk’s exes was pretty funny, too. (Yeah, officially they’re not his exes but just people whose ships he set on fire... but come on, the subtext isn’t really subtle here.) And I love the whole running gag of him and Mermista fighting all of them behind the bar counter with Mermista doing most of the work and getting more and more annoyed with it - but when they’re finally done, it turns out there’s also someone there that *she* doesn’t want to see, because she set their ship on fire. Comedy gold.

- Scorpia is me at a party :( I also find it super hard to socialize and get into conversations with strangers. Very relatable there.

- I also love how the sweet flowergirl Perfuma has absolutely no problem blending in with a bunch of criminals.

- “You’re amazing. You have the biggest heart and you could do whatever you put your mind to.” Aww. I’m glad someone told Scorpia that!

- “You should do things not because you’re good at them, but because they make you happy.” That actually is some really good life advice. People should keep that mind in general.

- (I love how Sea-Hawk and Mermista are carrying Admiral Scurvy away in the background while Scorpia and Perfuma are having their heartfelt talk 🤣.)

- “Repeat after me: I can do this. I can do this.” “Perfuma can do this.” 🤦 I feel bad for laughing, but... gosh, Scorpia has some serious self-esteem issues.

- Okay, time for an unpopular opinion: I’m... not that into Scorfuma. There’s nothing wrong with it and I’m not against it or anything, but it just doesn’t particularly grab my interest. That excited feeling you get when you ship something just... isn’t there for me with them, sorry.

(I kinda felt like I had to explain/justify myself, so I started to write a small essay on my ships here that doesn’t really have anything to do with the episode. Feel free to just skip this part.)

I consider myself a multishipper and while my #1 OTP is definitely without a doubt Catradora, I also really have a soft spot for Scorptra (to the point where I’d say it’s probably my #2 after Catradora). And, to make it short, Scorptra vs. Scorfuma is one of those “fanon vs. canon” things for me, where what you want to see happen in canon isn’t necessarily what you find exciting or interesting to explore in fanworks. Obviously Scorptra was never going to be canon because Catradora is a thing, and I’m perfectly okay with that. And in canon, Scorpia getting out of a toxic friendship, moving on from her unrequited feelings, and finding love with someone else (who treats her right) is the right message to send, so I’m glad that’s where the show went. But when it comes to enjoying a ship in fanon (which is what I consider “shipping” to be), then I don’t pick my ships based on how healthy they are in canon, but on how much their dynamic fascinates me and just on whether that certain spark that makes me like a ship is there or not. And in that sense, Scorpia’s dynamic with Catra, which was explored over the course of 4 seasons, is just infinitely more fascinating and spark-inducing to me that her relationship with Perfuma.

And even beyond Scorptra - if I had to ship Scorpia with someone other than Catra, my first pick would be Entrapta. (Yes, I do ship Entrapdak, but like I said - multishipper here. Also, Entrapta has two hands!) And my first pick for who to ship Perfuma with would be Mermista because I like their bickering and I have a thing for opposites attracting.

Anyway, I’ve been rambling about ships for too long now. The bottom line is: I’m fine with Scorfuma being canon and it makes sense that they fit together since they’re very similar people. I don’t dislike it, I’m just not as hyped about it as many people seem to be. On with the episode now, please!

- “I guess I don’t know what a hermit is after all.” Yeah, Peekablue was giving off Double Trouble vibes from the beginning, tbh.

- I love how Netossa is competitive even at planning anniversary surprises.

- Perfuma loudly supporting Scorpia when she ends up on stage is a super nice moment, though. And Scorpia’s performance? Amazing!

- I wonder if Double Trouble made up that whole “She-Ra in space” vision because they were pretending to be Peekablue and just got it right by accident, or if they actually knew that much from their time pretending to be a clone. I wonder how much time they spent as a clone and what exactly they saw.

- Scorpia realizing it’s Double Trouble and then tricking and unmasking them was an amazing moment. So much for Scorpia not being smart!

- I was so excited to see Double Trouble again! Tough it makes me a bit said that they refered to Catra as their “cash kitten”. While they never made a secret out of being in it for the money, I kind of like the idea that they did care for Catra after all. (Do I just ship everyone with Catra? The answer is yes.)

DT: “I know where your friends are. And I’ll tell you - for a price, of course.”

Perfuma: *grows flower arm canon*

DT: “... Fine.”

😂😂😂 Love that.

- “It makes for a very dull audience when everyone’s mind-controlled.” Okay, but that really is a good reason for Double Trouble to help the heroes out without really changing their motivation. They’re still a Chaotic Neutral who doesn’t particularly care about morals - but it would make for a very dull audience if everyone was mind-controlled.

- “Prime is angry. She-Ra showed up and stole his little kitten away.” Like I said before, I LOVE that that’s the reason why Prime’s so pissed in the first place.

- The confrontation between Netossa and Spinnerella is so heartbreaking, but when she said “show me your neck” it again made me wonder why they didn’t check everyone’s neck at camp before.

- “What a shame we can’t be together... in Horde Prime’s light!” Ooohhh, it’s so creepy and angsty, I love it!

- And Mermista’s chipped as well because obviously things have to go south here.

- The parallel confrontations at camp and at the soiree are really cool scenes. I especially like the Spinnerella vs. Netossa fight. And Micah’s chipped as well, because things have to go wrong and Glimmer mentioned being “a day away from meeting her dad” - so obviously that has to be ruined now, too.

- “A little help? I need to lift my hand to the heavens.” Gosh, I love DT.

- Scorpia’s sacrifice made me tear up 😭. (When I first watched it, I was scared she was actually going to die and not just get chipped - I’d never have forgiven the show for that.)

- Can we talk about how strong Netossa actually is? She fought off both Spinnerella and Micah by herself, made a big enough net to cover all the chipped people, and got herself and Frosta out of there safely - I don’t want to hear anything about her powers not being strong again.

- “Happy anniversary.” Noooo, now I’m crying again... 😭😭😭 It’s so sad, but so romantic... (I really love that this season gave Spinnerella and Netossa more screentime. And I’m always here for some angst!)

- And finally, Perfuma is able to contact the group in space and warn them about the blockade. I really like that scene. I like that Perfuma specifically says “You need to stay away”, since we know what happened last time someone told Adora that. And the whole grim mood of Perfuma apologizing and saying the rebellion is compromised, the shaky pictures, the connection cutting off, and then the shot of the ship all alone in space and the silence - amazing. Basically, this episode was “things go very wrong on Etheria, and now the group in space has a serious problem”.

This was a good episode, overall. Like I said, the main reason I consider it weaker is because I care more about the group in space, and they were only here for one scene in the beginning and one in the end. But this was still pretty solid. It had some funny and sweet moments, and then some really cool and dramatic scenes in the end. And of course, it was a very important episode for the plot because things are now really not looking good on Etheria. My favourite moment was Catra sitting on Adora’s lap in the opening scene, though.

[Previous episode]   [Next episode]

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi! I LOVED your peter x Barnes-Rogers post, I was wondering if you could do one where maybe Peter (being the lovable dummy that he is) feels like the only way he can protect her is to break up with her?

Thank you so much for this ask! I loved writing this. So sorry that this has taken so long, life has been STUPID hard lately. 

So I wrote like 1100 words for this ask, because I have no self-control lmao. So I broke this into two parts, and I’ll post the second part a lil bit later in the week. 

Title: Guilty, Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rodgers!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Warnings: Peter is a sad boy, slight injuries, and I think that’s it?

Summary: Peter is worried the dangers of being Spiderman’s girlfriend are too much for you. 

Link to Part 2

"Mmmm yeah no I'd definitely fuck Spiderman."

Peter nearly choked on his slice of pizza. Face rapidly turning pink at the mention of his alter ego, he whipped his head around in an attempt to locate the source of the somewhat disturbing statement. It seemingly came from a group of sophomore girls sitting a few tables behind his -- the girls were all furiously giggling at their friend who looked utterly unashamed at her bold declaration. Peter couldn't help the small smile that stretched across his lips. He knew that those girls had no idea who Spiderman really was, and even if they did he was more than happy in his current relationship. Still, the sentiment was a little flattering all the same.

Or disturbing. He couldn't quite tell which.

"Pete?"

Peter's attention was pulled back to his own table, the soft call of his name from you all he really needed to refocus completely. You were gazing up at him from your seat next to him, beautiful features gleaming with a look of amused curiosity as you silently asked what had him so distracted. Sending you a reassuring glance and squeezing your hand that was nestled firmly in his, he shook his head. 

"I'll tell you later," he mouthed.

You quirked an eyebrow and shot him a look that clearly said 'you'd better' before turning your attention back to the conversation you and Ned had previously been having.

Watching the two of you argue childishly over your opinions on what the better Star Wars adaptation was, Peter couldn't help but grin. A wave of affection washed over him and butterflies danced happily in his stomach at the sight of you interacting so naturally with his best friend. He'd known Ned and MJ for much longer than you had, but over the time you two had been dating you'd effortlessly folded yourself into his small group of friends. Even though it's been months now, the simplest of interactions still warmed his heart and filled him with pride.

Despite the interruption, Peter's ears were still trained on the conversation of the group of girls behind him.

"Say what you want, Bucky Barnes is absolutely the hottest avenger," he heard another girl chime in over the dull hum of the other conversations in the busy cafeteria. He wrinkled his nose a little, an involuntary shudder going through him at the mention of your dad in this context.

"Mm, sure but let's be honest dating a superhero would be fucking awful," the first girl grumbled. Peter frowned.

"Are you nuts? It would be amazing!" her friend replied, disbelief lacing her tone.

"Please," the girl scoffed. "I can't even imagine the kind of scary shit you'd have to deal with on a regular basis."

Peter heard her friend hum thoughtfully.

"I guess, but I mean you'd still get to be with a god. Literally in Thor's case," she giggled.

"Whatever. Just seems downright dangerous if you ask me."

The girls moved on to a different topic, but Peter was still thoroughly distracted by what they'd said. He realized abruptly that he'd never really considered the affect his superhero life could have on you. What if those girls had a point? Was he putting you in harm's way just by pure association? Peter felt his stomach flip and lurch at the mere thought of something happening to you, and the idea that it would be his fault settled like a rock in the bottom of his belly. His mind whirred into overdrive as anxious thoughts filled him with an increasing dread and left him feeling paralyzed.

He was so still, in fact, that you took notice of his motionless form. Even though he was the one with the spidey senses, you seemed to have a knack for knowing when he was upset. Thumb rubbing across his knuckles absentmindedly, your gaze turned towards him once more, a frown marring your soft features.

"Petey? What's wrong?" you muttered quietly, voice just loud enough that you knew he'd hear but low enough that it didn't alert anyone else at the table.

He swallowed thickly and looked over at you. Your eyes were locked in on his face with a sparkle of concern playing in the y/e/c irises. Guilt began to mingle with the anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he noted your slight distress. Shoving all of his feelings down as deep as they would go, he managed a smile and kissed your cheek softly in reassurance. 

"Don't worry about it angel, it's nothing," he lied smoothly.

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly in suspicion, clearly not buying his excuse, but you allowed MJ to pull your attention back to the table's discussion all the same. Peter sighed lightly in relief at the distraction. Though he was turned towards his friends his mind was a million miles away, the girls' words echoing loudly against his skull.

  --------------------

A few hours later Peter was feeling only slightly better.

After lunch he'd managed to make it through the rest of the school day without so much as a second alone with you. While that would ordinarily be a bad thing, he knew that the moment you two were alone that you'd expect an explanation for what happened at lunch. You were incredibly perceptive, and Peter was certain he'd wind up telling you everything. Not 100% sure of his own feelings at the moment and completely terrified of your reaction, he decided to avoid you until he'd processed things. He'd practically ran out the door after the last bell, shouting that he'd meet you at the tower after patrol for your usual study-date and leaving you behind, confused and more than a little suspicious.

Patrol did little to quell his nervousness.

The streets were unusually quiet tonight and the monotony allowed him to picture all kinds of horrible things that could happen to you as a result of being associated with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but he couldn't help but spiral a little further into his pit of self-doubt. Instead of the distraction he was hoping it'd be, Peter's mind ran wild as he watched the city from above.

Eventually, it came time to meet you, and Peter'd be lying if he didn't admit he was a little relieved. Being separated from you was always difficult, and the withdrawal from your presence felt like it was amplified by his anxious state.

Winding his way through the familiar tower halls, Peter decided he needed to tell you exactly what he was feeling. Though he wasn't much more certain about how he felt, he knew that you would make him feel better. He wasn't used to feeling so disconnected from you, and regardless of his thoughts to the contrary he couldn't quell his desire to be near you. He'd been overwhelmed with the urge to feel your soft skin against his, smell your sweet scent wafting into his nose, and hear your quiet words of reassurance in his ears ever since you'd parted ways earlier in the day. He knew it was selfish, but it felt like he was going to reach his breaking point soon if he didn't get what he needed.

And what he needed was you.

"Oh my god! Y/N, what happened?!" he exclaimed as he finally made his way to the common room and caught sight of you. Caught off guard, you jumped slightly at his bold entrance before grinning widely at him.

"Hiya Petey!"

Ignoring the way you completely evaded the question, he was by your side in an instant. His palms lightly grasped your cheeks as he examined your face gently. You had an angry-looking mark blossoming under your right eye, and your upper lip looked as if it'd only just stopped bleeding. His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets at the sight of your injuries, and he felt anger bubble up in his chest. For all his over-thinking today Peter never once considered finding you like this.

"Seriously, what the hell happened?" he practically growled, a feeling he could only describe as rage filling him at the thought of someone hurting you. You opened your mouth to speak--

"That's exactly what we were wondering," a voice cut you off before you could reply. Peter turned, surprised to find your dads standing near your desk, arms crossed and expressions furious. He turned back to you only to find you rolling your eyes at the three of them.

"So Y/N, care to explain?" Steve demanded firmly. Peter shuddered a little at the tone of his voice. It was the same one he used in the field --the one you jokingly referred to as his 'Captain-voice' -- that clearly left no room for negotiations.

"I already told you, it's no big deal," you drawled, clearly unfazed by your dads' obvious anger. Peter frowned.

"Are you serious?" he gaped. "You're hurt, of course it's a big deal!"

You rolled your eyes once more, but your face softened just the slightest bit at the evident worry lacing his tone. 

"Doll, just tell us who did this so we can maim them," Bucky practically barked. His hands were clenching and unclenching uncontrollably, and his eyes were alight with a kind of fury that made Peter shiver a little. You, however, either didn't notice his anger or didn't care.

"Oh please, like you all haven't come home from missions with much worse," you snapped. Bucky's jaw twitched in anger, and he opened his mouth to reply.

"We're not talking about us right now," Steve interrupted smoothly. "We're talking about you."

Expression irritated, you opened your mouth --clearly about to spit out a snarky reply-- but Peter cut you off before you had a chance to speak.

"Y/N, please?" he begged quietly. Your eyes snapped over to his face, the irritation fading from your y/e/c irises at his gentle plea. You chewed your lip a little, brows furrowing slightly in contemplation before sighing.

"S'not a big deal," you mumbled. "I just got into a fight with some asshole girls after school today."

"What girls?" Peter asked evenly, fighting the bubble of anger that was threatening to erupt from his body. You just shrugged nonchalantly, evidently unwilling to elaborate further.

"Y/N," Steve said warningly. You sighed, shoulders dropping.

"Just some girls! They were talking shit--," you started, pausing only when Steve shot you a warning glance. "Sorry Pops. Talking trash about dad and Peter, or rather their alter egos I guess. Anyways, I obviously took offense -- you know cause they're morons -- and things just kinda escalated from there."

The effect of your explanation was instant. Steve's hardened expression eased the slightest bit at your story, his eyes flicking to his husband as he cautiously appraised his reaction. To Bucky's credit, if he felt any type of way about what you'd said it didn't show on his face. Bucky remained stoic and he hardly moved a muscle. If it weren't for the fact you knew he had super-hearing you might've thought he hadn't even heard you. Peter, on the other hand…

It was like someone had knocked all the breath out of his body at once. His heart lurched and remorse burned at his insides. His anger quickly gave way to utter guilt, and he felt his face drop despite his best efforts. All the fear and guilt he'd been wrestling with all day felt like nothing compared to now.

You were hurt. And it was his fault.

"Like I said, it's not a big deal," you supplemented quickly as you noted the mens' various reactions. "Seriously, you should see the other girls' faces. I wouldn't be surprised if we get a call from Tiffany H.'s plastic surgeon thanking me for all the money he's about to make."

Peter felt frozen. Normally he would've chuckled at the adorably smug look that'd taken over your features, but he couldn't manage to muster up any feelings outside of his own self-hatred at the moment. Bucky, however, did not seem to share this sentiment. He loudly chuckled at your quip, a proud sparkle gleaming in his eyes and a wide grin plastered across his face. Steve still stood with his arms crossed, expression stern.

"Y/N, you can't just go around getting into fights just because you don't agree with people," he lectured. Bucky snorted.

"Really Stevie?" he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm getting the most distinct flashbacks of a certain sickly teen who picked fights pretty much wherever he went…"

Steve's face flushed with the slightest twinge of pink at his husband's insinuation. You grinned widely at your dad, clearly delighted with the turn the discussion had taken.

"Again, we're not talking about me," he covered quickly, weakly hiding his embarrassment with a cough. "Y/N, you're grounded. One week, starting now."

Your jaw dropped.

"What?! That's not fair at all!" you spluttered indignantly. "Tell him he's crazy dad!"

Bucky chuckled once more at the sight of your complete and utter shock, his grin only dropping once he caught sight of his husband’s unamused expression. He cleared his throat quickly and crossed his arms once more before shrugging at you.

“Pops is right Y/N, you can’t just go around getting into fights. No matter how good you are at ending them…”

“Oh come on,” you groaned, rubbing a hand across your face in exasperation. “It’s not a big deal, right Pete?”

Peter blinked, pulled only back to the conversation at hand once he heard you call his name. Shaking his head slightly to try and remove the lingering feelings of shock and guilt, he looked blinked slowly as his eyes darted between you and your dads. Opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, he felt utterly at a loss as to how to respond.

"It's a big deal if we say it's a big deal," Steve countered firmly. "So I'm sorry Peter, but you'll have to go now."

You scoffed, arms crossing furiously as your face crumpled into a pout. Ordinarily Peter would've giggled at your childish gesture, but at the moment he could only muster enough attention to nod. 

"Yeah, o-okay. I'll see you later Y/N," he muttered quietly before leaving in a daze.

If he weren't so consumed by his own thoughts he would've seen the look of concern that passed over your face or the confusion spattered across your dads'. But Peter didn't notice either, too busy trying to sort through the torrent of thoughts and feelings currently raging inside his head. He walked out of the tower on autopilot as his mind was wracked with guilt over what'd happened to you. Left with only one possible conclusion, he returned home feeling utterly devastated with what he knew he had to do.

--------------------

Bucky was confused.

He'd noticed a distinct change in his daughter's behavior lately that only seemed to be getting worse. He internally wondered how long this'd gone on, because let's face it, he knew if it gotten to the point that even he'd noticed, then it must've been a while. Bucky used to pride himself on knowing everything about you, but as you'd grown older he found himself knowing less and less. Despite Steve's constant reassurance that it was simply the way things went when kids became teenagers, he still felt that little twinge of guilt in his belly when his seeming ineptitude as a parent was called into focus.

Like now.

You'd become withdrawn and quiet, a far cry from your normally energetic and talkative self. You were spending more and more hours secluded in your bedroom, and he could've sworn he'd caught you looking as if you'd just been crying on more than one occasion. All the signs were pointing towards something bothering you, but Bucky felt utterly lost as to how to determine just what that even was, much less figure out how to help you with it.

Currently, the team was finishing up with their nightly dinner, and your strange behavior was once again on the forefront of his mind. You sat across from him and Steve, looking more like a zombie than anything else. Your normally bright eyes looked dull, the dark bags under each of them looking practically a mile long. The food on your plate looked untouched, and Bucky felt a stab of panic deep in his chest as he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen you actually eat something.

"You okay doll?" he questioned you softly, voice low. You hardly moved, the brief flash of your eyes towards his the only indication that you'd even heard him.

"I'm fine," you muttered, gaze dropping to your dinner and fork moving more of your food around aimlessly as you fell silent once more. Bucky's brows furrowed deeper at your dull response, the lingering fear and discomfort settling deeper into his stomach. Steve eyed the two of you, expression full of concern. His hand gently rested over Bucky's in a show of solidarity with his husband until Bucky's gaze moved towards him.

"Any idea what that's all about?" he muttered quietly. Steve just shrugged, but his clear blue eyes were brimming with the same look of concern and slight confusion as Bucky's.

"Can I be excused now?" you mumbled without so much as a glance upwards. Steve shared a worried glance with Bucky before he cleared his throat.

"You have to eat something Y/N/N," Steve replied quietly. "Can't you just take a couple of bites?"

"S'cold," you protested, voice still devoid of any emotion. A flash of memory invaded his mind of he and Steve cooing and pleading with you as an infant, trying helplessly to get you to eat your food. He fondly remembered the way your chubby arms would cross as you stubbornly refused to eat your pureed food, a picture perfect miniature of Steve. His heart twisted painfully at the stark contrast of that strong-willed little toddler with the shell of a teen he saw now.

"Go into the kitchen and heat it up then," Bucky tried. You didn't move an inch. "Please?"

Sighing, you brought you picked up your plate and trudged away. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, but ran his fingers through his hair nonetheless as confusion and concern continued to rage fitfully in his mind. Steve didn't appear to be fairing much better -- he sat stoically next to him with both hands folded tensely under his chin.

"Seriously Steve, what the hell is going on with her?" Bucky asked exasperatedly. His husband sighed, his own fingers moving to rub against his eyes tiredly.

"Do you two honestly not get what's bothering her?" Natasha interrupted quietly. The supersoldiers glanced over, and she rolled her eyes at them. "Seriously? It's been like 2 weeks."

Now it was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes at her flippant tone.

"So are you gonna tell us what's bothering her, or are you just gonna judge us some more?" he huffed. Nat smiled coyly, relaxing back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest.

"I feel like I can manage both," she quipped good-naturedly. Steve sighed again.

"Come on Nat, just tell us. Please?" he begged, eyes silently pleading with the redhead. Nat seemed to soften a little at this, her green eyes flicking towards the kitchen quickly before she leaned across the table.

"Since I'm certain you'll never figure it out on your own, I'll tell you. But you have to swear you won't let her know that I'm the one who told," she muttered secretively. Bucky nodded dumbly, too eager to figure out what was eating you to care about her somewhat condescending tone. "Haven't you noticed that there's been one less arachnid-themed hero around the tower lately?"

"No. Wait, you mean Parker?" Bucky answered suspiciously. Nat rolled her eyes again before nodding tersely.

"Mhm. Seems like our resident kid-genius broke up with your girl, and now she's completely devastated."

Bucky felt his face furrow into an even deeper frown. Of course Parker had something to do with this.

"So you're saying she and Peter broke up and that's why she's been like this?" Steve interjected, his face a mirror of his husband's. Nat nodded once more, eyes flicking to the kitchen as she heard the beeping of the microwave.

"Yep. Well, to be more accurate he broke up with her, hence her mood," she whispered. Anger began to churn in Bucky's stomach and he felt his fists clench unintentionally at the accusation.

"That little punk," he seethed. "Who does he think he is leaving her like this?"

"I don't know the exact details, and I don't think she really does either," Nat continued. "She said he mentioned something vague about 'not being able to keep her safe' before just cutting off all contact. Poor kid didn't even get a say in it."

"That doesn't make any sen-"

"Hello my little дорогая," she greeted you warmly, voice raising back to a normal volume as you slumped down into the seat next to hers. You managed a half-hearted smile towards the assassin before you began lightly picking at your food. Steve clamped his mouth shut at the sight of you, the grateful smile he shot your way not reaching his eyes. It seemed that the talk with Natasha hadn't made your situation much clearer for him, and he looked utterly confused and perhaps more concerned than he had before.

But Bucky wasn't.

Something Nat said had triggered something for him -- a tiny piece of information that'd seemed inconsequential at the time that now made sense. Grabbing his husband's hand and squeezing it firmly, he gave Steve one last reassuring glance before he left the table. He knew what he had to do.

[rattyarts]

Huge-ask post (I am VERY funny)

Because I have so many questions that can be answered with just text, and I have mentioned my dislike of filling my art blog up with Words Words Words... let’s get them all done in one go!

(You guys can blacklist #rattytalks if you’re just here for the draws, btw)

A shit ton of asks under the cut!

Anonymous said: So for the center of the world, what with it being forcefully PG and all Bad Thoughts TM being prevented, how does having kids happen? Do parents just black out and wake up holding a child in their arms and vague memories of the last 9 months?

Ever seen a movie where they do that “and one day... a baby was born!” thing and a kid just appears offscreen with no explanation?

(This is how it works everywhere, Edgelands included; no one does the do or gets pregnant in this setting.)

Anonymous said: Hello! Quick question, and sorry if you’ve answered this before, but can other elves see the “intangible” bits of one another? Big fan of your work btw!

Nope! And thank you!

Anonymous said: Leopold was in my dream last night but I sadly cannot remember any of it.

I am SO sorry. I will try to keep my stinky murder men out of your head in the future.

Anonymous said: are the floaty bits stuck in one spot, or could the one they are attached to learn to move them around their body as long as its still within a certain distance? like, someone with the Floaty limbs, lets call him Ray, can move his limbs all over his body, allowing him to do all sorts of neat things that others with their attached limbs probably couldn't?

Whatever you want, honestly. As a general rule of thumb I don’t like putting down TOO many hard rules that prevent people from having fun with this setting. (Please ignore and scrap anything you think is stupid, I do this all the time and enjoy keeping this setting inconsistent and contradictory)

Anonymous said: Do elf names work off of Death Note rules, or is it like, if you know one elf’s name, all elves with that name are now unable to harm you? So if all the elf brothers are named Martin, for example, does it only work with blue?

I think it’s prolly just the one! Probably? Idk, might change if I think of something funnier.

Anonymous said: Can elves do magic on themselves or does thst go against the knowing name rule

Most people tend to know their own names, lol. So in my opinion, no, but don’t let me stop you if you got a fun idea.

Anonymous said: Could an Elf stitch on parts from another elf and have them work? i.e an Elf's finds the arm of another Elf. "Hey, free arm, might as well put it to good use", so they attach the arm and now they can give three high fives at once!

Same deal as previous questions, I personally would say no, but I also encourage people to do whatever the hell they want. It’s more fun that way!

Anonymous said: I bet elves are greasy to the touch.

They’re very powdery! Like if you rolled them in flour. And by flour I mean nasty glowing elf dandruff.

Anonymous said: Can elves fly or are their wings just for show?

No flying!!! (Unless you’re a mousefly)

Anonymous said: Something tells me that the elves would LOVE Obatzda.

Had to look that up, but definitely!

no1fan15: Not sure if someone asked already- Does Edgeworld have any equivalent to demons and angels? Like the old rubberhose cartoon kind?

Demons, yes! That’s what imps are: basically any demon, devil, or generic monster, but tiny! Even a couple of pop culture critters in there, there’s probably a very small gillman or robot monster running around there somewhere.

Angels, not so far. 

Anonymous said: How come Margaret hasn't yeeted George's jar into the Edge yet

I’d say being locked in a closet is good enough! (and also I need him for plot reasons, don’t tell anyone)

Anonymous said: If elves have knees bulges in the front then do they have butt bulges in the back?

i do not want to think about elf bulges

Anonymous said: So if you find a baby Therewoof and you say "aw you're so cute", their true name is So Cute?

Yep!

Anonymous said: Since a Therewoof's true name can be something like "cutie pie" or "dingus", does their name have to be spoken with "intent" for it to doggo-fy them? Or do they just have to live with the reality that any casual conversation/flirting can make them lose up to a month to Doggy Mode? My mom has little terrier dog named "Sweetie" so that got me thinking 'bout Therewoof names. & Anonymous said: here's a good question: If someone says a therewoof's true name, but not reffering to them, does it still affect them?

Just saying it will do! It’s based on those old werewolf stories where calling out the person’s name will change them back into a human/cure them, and a lot of the time it was by accident.

(My favorite is the one where they slam the door on the wolf’s tail and then say his name, and the dude ends up with a wolf tail for the rest of his life.)

Anonymous said: Would Seeing eye Therewoofs be a thing?

I... guess? Probably? Since regular dogs can turn into woofs, yeah. You might have to start paying em once they turn into a person tho. 

Anonymous said: Was ChalkZone ever an inspiration for you? Because I just love the silly world of ChalkZone and I noticed getting that same warm feeling when thinking about Edgeworld.

Maaaan, I wish. I’ve only seen about three episodes or so, but it seems really fun!

Anonymous said: So I saw your mimic post, and even though I don't think I've seen any other of your art before I was absolutely HAMMERED with an indescribable sense of slightly unsettling strangeness and comfortable familiarity. Your art feels like something from like, an old point and click computer game I would have had formative memories of before accidentally losing or scratching the disc therefore making me unsure if it ever REALLY existed. Sorry for being weird but I love the wacky nostalgia feel here

Aaaaaah, THANK YOU! That is SUCH a cool comparison and I appreciate!!!

Anonymous said: If the Edgeworld is based on cartoons then is there a Reverse Edge-world that’s based on anime?

Lol, I mean I DID have an anime phase for a while there, so...

caydebug: Man I’d love to see this as a cartoon some day

Honestly, same. Best you’re gonna get is the occasional animatic or gif, tho.

Anonymous said: Does anyone..."go" in Edgeworld? or is it like Pleasantville where bathrooms exist but there are no toilets in them because acknowledging it is yucky?

Oh god I keep getting asked this and have been avoiding it like the damn plague. But... Uh. No. No they do not. I am begging you all not to send any followup questions.

Anonymous said: Have you considered putting computer viruses or illnesses in with the buggymen? Since those are typically called ‘bugs’

Sure!

Anonymous said: are there any limits to what an Animimic could posess? i.e if they were in a costume of a Buggieman with multiple arms, could they control all of them? what about a small Mousefly costume? can multiple fit into one costume like a clown car? and what about in pitch black darkness, where you can only see the lights of their eyes and not their bodies? could one fit inside the pocket of a jacket you are wearing and help you steal things/wield a gun like a living turret?

Since clothing fills into the body type of the intended wearer, they would indeed be able to control all arms/legs in buggieman clothes.

Size restrictions is one of these things I wanna try to be vague about: I personally have been imagining them sticking to hiding in things no smaller than, um. Maybe imp sized, but really, whatever. It’s a cartoon eyeball critter!

You can put multiple animimics in one outfit!

They can move around just fine in darkness without being off screen, yeah!

And sure why not. lol

Anonymous said: I know you have been asked this once before, and you said nah you don't, but with a few more months of worldbuilding, do you have an idea for what could be down the edge now? 🤔

Not really! It’s not super important, honestly. I’d say any fan theory is about as valid as anything else I can come up with.

ps2polpo: I doubt you’ll ever elaborate on The Edge but I like to imagine there’s just one dude there like the Nowhere Man from the Yellow Submarine movie. Mostly cause the thought of someone accidentally winding up there being like “where am I?” And there’s just a guy casually waving at him like a friendly neighbor is funny to me & Anonymous said: The implication that the Edge is the physical manifestation of edginess so there’s probably like, Trevor Henderson monsters hanging out down there.

See above question! Valid! I also accept falling forever, getting erased from existence, ending up in another universe, getting stuck in limbo with thousands of other people, whatever you want, really!

Anonymous said: " he has very few bones and weighs basically nothing, " "Fastball special" trope, but with Leo?

YEET THE NASTY MAN

Anonymous said: did you ever watch dragon tales as a kid? because george and margaret make me think of murderous zak and wheezie from that show, and i love it to bits

I did not, but I would have loved it. Definitely up my alley!

(watched Quest for Camelot a loooot, though!)

Imma go ahead and stop here! There’s more but I’ve been writing for well over an hour and I have things to do. If your question is missing I’m either saving it for later, wasn’t entirely sure how to answer, or it’s spoilery.

Will probably do another one of these at some point!

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 15 Post-Games Brains and Brawn Part 8

A couple days before the masquerade! Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Reine!), and @thoughts-of-nora!

A couple days after Shine met Triel, I still couldn’t get my mind off of her. Shit. I hated having a one-track mind.

So when I remembered that Reine had invited me to steal from an apartment near ours, I walked over to Reine’s room to see if she’d still be interested. I knocked on her door and smiled a little when she looked up. “So, you said about stealing from a fancy Capitol idiot?”

“Was wondering when you’d show up about that. Yeah, a building not far from here and enough stuff that one or ten things would hardly be missed.”

I smiled wider. This would be great! “Sounds like fun. Lead the way, if you’d like.”

She looked me up and down, and I had to stop myself from bristling. She was sizing me up, probably checking to see if I was capable enough for her standards. Shit. I was fine. But she just nodded and started walking.

I followed her, but I couldn’t just stay silent. I had to have some kind of distraction as we walked, or my thoughts would just return to Triel. “So, do you know how to dance? With that masquerade coming up, and all.”

“I’ve had some time to learn, yeah, though I don’t know what to expect for the Capitol’s version of dancing. You?”

I laughed. “I have no idea how to dance. Shine’s found some videos for me to practice with. I don’t know how good I’ll be though.”

“Well maybe we’ll be out before you’re forced to? Or maybe someone will cause a scene big enough to distract from how horrid you are at.” Her voice was light, and she looked back with a wink.

I grinned. “If anything, I’ll be the one causing the distraction. I’m good at being obnoxious.”

She sounded confused. “Obnox-” Pause. “Oh! Like annoying.” She didn’t know that? Well, I only knew it because the Shades called me that all the time, so understandable. She looked thoughtful. “I still don’t think that’s the right word though, not from what I’ve seen of you.”

How sweet, but she was wrong. “Then you haven’t seen me at my best.” I laughed a little. “Since you know about dancing, do you know anything else about parties? I’ve never been to one.”

“Generally? It’s loud and flashy, but there’s food and drinks and people tend to share way too much information after a while and their guards are dropped.”

The food and drink would probably be awesome! The other info didn’t sound so good, but oh well. I grinned. “Food and drinks I can handle. Not so sure about crowds, but I can try.” I lowered my voice to a mumble. “Maybe I can smuggle a feast out of the party.”

Reine laughed quietly. “I’ve seen people get a fair amount from them, I think you could manage it.”

“That’ll make it all worth it.” We walked outside, and I tensed slightly until I confirmed there wasn’t anyone around. I didn’t want to have any unwanted attention. But…speaking of unwanted attention, that guy who had been visiting Reine. Every single time he came, I always seemed to run into him. He was creepy, with that smirk and those analytical eyes. Might as well ask her what was going on. I glanced over at her. “So, who was that dude that came over and talked only to you?”

She tensed as well. So, not a friend probably. “He’s…Conor. Someone who just keeps showing up in my life despite best efforts.”

I frowned. “And I suppose that you don’t like him. You want me to punch him next time he shows up?”

“I—no, don’t do that. Thank you though. He’s a friend.” Yeah right. “I think,” she said quieter, not looking me in the eyes. “But he’s also trouble.”

Oh, I’d punch him. No worries about that. And then he’d know who he was dealing with. “If he’s a friend, what’s he doing working with the Capitol, and what does he want with Triel?”

“That’s the trouble part. I don’t know, I never with him, never understand his games. He helped get us out of the Games, but,” she laughed, sounding strangled. Oh, I was gonna punch him so hard. Possibly multiple times. “Out of one and into the other. He promised to help again, hopefully it’s just him hoping for entertainment.”

Entertainment? Shit, that sounded like the Shades. “I really will punch him when I see him again.”

“Yes, he does have that effect on people,” she said dryly.

I frowned. “So, how do you even know a Capitol escort?”

“I made a mistake and failed and got him killed.” She paused. “Nearly. So I felt responsible for him for awhile. That turned out so well.” She shrugged halfheartedly.

I kept frowning. Jerk. “He’s a sneaky one for an escort, it sounds like. I’ll have to plan out my attack.” I sighed. This was making me frustrated and her unhappy. “But enough topics that don’t involve stealing. Are we close?”

“Yeah, right up there.” She gestured up at a balcony on the top floor of the apartment building we were close to. Oh boy!

I grinned. “So, we’re climbing?” I didn’t wait for her as I trotted up to the building and scanned for hand-holds. It shouldn’t be a bad climb.

“You can if you insist,” Reine said behind me.

I jumped and looked over at her with a frown. “What other sneaky way could we get in?”

She snorted and glanced around. Then she rolled her shoulders and revealed…brown wings. “I think my way will be faster.”

Holy shit. My face immediately flushed, and I couldn’t stop staring. They were beautiful. “Well.” My voice cracked. Shit. “I suppose that would be faster.”

She laughed. “A bit, yes.” She held out her hand to me, and my face got hotter. Holy shit. I wasn’t prepared for this. But I also was. Flying! I was actually going to fly again! This time without metal around me.

I took her hand. “How—how fast can you fly?” And would I be able to go that fast now?

She shrugged and pulled me close. Shit. Hopefully, she hadn’t noticed my blushing. “I can keep up with some pretty fast cars, though I’ve never really put the effort in to find out, kind of hard to keep it hidden when doing test on it. Hold on.”

I held on tight as she shot up into the air, and I stared. The wind in my face, the different vantage point, it was beautiful. Amazing.

It was over too soon, as Reine touched down on the balcony. As I got my feet back under me, I turned to Reine with a grin. “How did you get those wings? Do you have magic besides that? Have you tested how high you can go? What kind of wings are they? A type of bird’s?”

“Short answer? I was born with them in a way. And I think they’re like some form of owl’s? At least that’s what Aleksis said after hours of researching, and I can fly high enough for the air to get thin.” She shifted and rolled her shoulders so the wings disappeared again. “As for the magic and stuff…let’s just say I’ve been around for longer than you’d think.” She gave a forced laugh, but then she winced.

Oh, she was uncomfortable. And I had just asked her to talk about her magic. I should have known better. Stupid piece of shit. So, I should repay her with at least showing off my magic. Lucky me, the doors to the balcony were locked, so I found water in a vase on the inside. I activated my magic, and the water crystallized into a knife and cut through the lock. I opened the door, and bowed. “After you.”

Reine bowed back and smiled. She slipped into the room and looked around before starting to look through the items strewn about the room. Damn. It was a mess in here. They wouldn’t miss any of it.

I took a few small things until I picked up a gaudy, sequined shirt and a felt pirate hat, and I grimaced. Those idiots from the costume store. “Holy shit. I might have already met these people.”

“And your opinion of them?” She looked up from the crate she had been sorting through.

“Loud. Obnoxious. Think they know everything about pirates when they know nothing.” My voice got quieter. “Think they know Triel when they know nothing.”

“Well then.” Reine pocketed an antique spyglass and straightened up. “I was planning on being subtle and not leaving a clue, but…maybe a bit of destruction and robbery wouldn’t do too much harm?” She looked over at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.

I grinned back. “Nah. I don’t think it would.” I knocked over the vase I had already taken the water out of, and it shattered on the floor. “Whoops.”

Reine knocked over a ship in a bottle. “Oh no. How terrible.” Then she upended the crate, letting everything scatter on the floor. She was so awesome.

I grabbed something off a shelf, but before I could throw it, I actually got a good look at it. It was a compass, and it actually looked valuable. “Huh. This actually looks rare.” I held it up for Reine to see.

She swallowed hard and took it carefully. “Yeah, this is…probably really valuable. Doubt they even know they have it or what it’s worth.” She kept staring, running her fingers over some kind of engraving.

I frowned. “Do you recognize it? A possession of an ancestor or something?”

“Or something. Father’s.” Huh. I guess she had said she lived longer than usual. But still. How old was she? That compass looked old. She pocketed it and looked around. “Oh look a closet. Is there anything in here not covered in glitter or sequins?” She held up a long coat with weird fur or something on it. “Or…are these feathers?”

“It’s shit, that’s what it is.” I grabbed the coat and used the crystal knife to cut a message into it. Dress like a real pirate.

Reine laughed and handed me some more before she paused on a long black coat mostly free of sequins and glitter that actually didn’t look too bad. “Actually, I think I might take a page from Triel’s book here, think they’ll recognize this at the masquerade?”

I blushed again, just imagining her wearing that. I smiled a little. “I don’t think you’ll be wanting for dance partners, that’s for sure.”

“Wait till you see my mask and you’ll probably rethink that.” She winked and tried the cloak on, and I flushed more. “Not as good of material as the real thing, but it’ll do its job-” Her eyes wandered over toward the door, and she said something I didn’t recognize, and she had an accent when she spoke again. “I think they might be coming back.”

I frowned. How did she know that? I hadn’t heard anything. But I trusted her judgment. I swore and ran over to the balcony. Wait. We flew up. I glanced back at Reine. “Would you be able to do the wing thing again? Or should I start climbing down?”

“Wings.” She ran for me, and I threw the coat I had knifed at the door just as it opened, and the person who had come in was met with the coat in their face. Just as Reine took off and flew us back toward the ground.

We both laughed, and I grinned. “We make a good thief team!”

“Simply the best!”

“So, we gotta steal more after all this’s over!” I paused as we got closer to the ground. I hadn’t been tons of help. She hadn’t had to bring me along. “Thanks for letting me come along.”

We got back to the ground. “Oh we should definitely do this again. And as if I could get you to stay if you heard what I’d planned.”

“You got me there.” I held out a fist to fistbump and winked at her. “And I owe you a clumsy, awkward dance at the party.”

She fistbumped and winked back. “I dare anyone to say anything about it too.”

[criticalintellect]

UGH alright let's try this, hopefully I'll be coherent. So I've had my twitter account for about a year now(?) and every month or so, for about a week, just outta nowhere people suddenly feel like shitting on Lovecraft. The last two times it makes sense how it came about since we had gotten news that a new Call of Cthulhu "sequel" was getting made. The premise we were given was goddamn horrendous, but it's popped up again because it's creator felt like being a cunt on Twitter for some reason: Call of Cthulhu: Death May Die. Shelving the fact that sounds like a Devil May Cry parody, I won't focus too much on the game, though I will say it's NOTHING like the Terminator ripoff we were told it was gonna be (I could be mistaking DMD with another boardgame abortion using H.P.'s work) and the wording in the game synopsis I found is completely contrary to cosmic horror; talking about fighting the Old Ones and "shoot[ing] it in the face". Eric Lang is the man of the hour; he's had quite a bit of experience in boardgames and even video games, working on Duelyst (which I really did like). So to see this man in search of a personality put on his most psychotic stare, trim his pubic hair wig, and stand in front of a cardboard cutout of H.P. Lovecraft and give it the finger, all to post it on twitter and say he hates this man and his work...while at the same time profiting from his work DIRECTLY. I'm a little...perturbed. These retard fests always come in at least 3 flavors: Lovecraft was a racist, dO yOu KnOw WhAt He NaMeD hIs CaT?!?!?!, and Lovecraft didn't contribute anything and all his fans are racist. No to all 3.

Now maybe I'm hanging on semantics, but from my reckoning I would say HPL was more xenophobic than racist. He didn't hate other people or races. Yes he did believe that certain people had "superior" genetics, but never in his notes have I seen him go on tirades about how those of "lesser" genes need to be culled or anything. He literally just wanted them to leave him and his neighborhood alone. He wanted them to live, just not near him. Again, maybe semantics, I leave the distinction to greater intellects. But of greater importance, something these Lovecraft detractors refuse to comprehend, was that we have written proof that HPL RENOUNCED his xenophobic views towards the end of his life. Thanks to the friends he made, his moving to New York, and being exposed to other people he saw the error of his ways. And he recanted. And the people shitting on his grave do not care, saying that it didn't matter. It's cancel culture at it's finest, but since they can't cancel a dead man all they can do is destroy his works. Or at least attempt to, fruitlessly. The plus side of having 100 year old works of fiction is that they've been in circulation for so long is that plenty of people know the fiction and know when someone has made a shit interpretation of it.

Now, about that cat. See it wasn't Howard that named that cat, but rather his father. The cat was adopted by and named by him. And then his father was committed to an asylum and the cat passed into his son's and wife's care. And yes, the cat was called Niggerman, shocker. It was the 1880s.

"Lovecraft had no impact on anything". Stephen King, Gullermo del Toro, Ridley Scott, Neil Gaiman, Junji Ito, Kentaro Miura, Clive Barker, John Carpenter, Mike Mignola and H.R. Giger. All of these artists were influenced by Lovecraft and his horror. But sometimes his touch was a little less obvious, as he was friends with Robert E. Howard, the creator of Conan the Barbarian and Solomon Cane. He was a man who would very openly share ideas he had for his own work, but not having a great opinion of said work would pass it onto authors he believed could better implement his ideas. He was never a man to jealously protect his property and openly allowed ANYONE to add onto the mythos he unwittingly created. And that's a major reason how his mythos has engrossed so much of our culture over the last century, even when the property wasn't directly connected to the Cthulhu mythos. As to the assertion that we're all racists: even if I agreed Howard Philips Lovecraft was racist and even if it wasn't public knowledge that he became a better person late in life, I am capable of separating a creator from his work. I can read Shadow Over Innsmouth and Call of Cthulhu and The Dunwich Horror and agree that if you look deep enough there's some skeevy themes, but if you put that aside there's some damn good suspense and horror. For as fucked up as K-Pop is I don't see any of their stans calling out the industry while admitting they still like the music, it's just blanket denial. Yet shitheads with that kinda mindset wanna come after a man's legacy like he enslaved all of Africa all on his lonesome?

At the end of it all, Lovecraft's works will endure all of this mind numbing clout chasing. Eric Lang can do cringey, performative wokeness while being a massive hypocrite all he wants, Lovecraft will endure. But it will always bother me the amount of frothing, myopic hatred HPL gets. The fans have told these people how he reformed, how he shared his works with people of all walks of life, how he MARRIED A JEWISH WOMAN (and yes he had distasteful opinions of Jews too), but it's never enough. If Daryl Davis can change the minds of 200+ KKK members, then why can't we give people from the past the benefit of the doubt. Then again these are also the type of people that called Davis a racist and other assorted idiocy so...I dunno. Lovecraft was a flawed man, plagued by nightmares, coddled by a mother who slowly lost her mind over time and ended up in the same asylum as her husband (the one he died in too). And even through all of that he found a way to be a better man. He shared his works, he found a way to intimately connect with a woman (even though it sounds like it was very difficult for both of them), and towards the end of his life he admitted his ideas of genetic superiority were downright abhorrent. If we can't give even this man the benefit of the doubt, then your only hope of being accepted by the hate mob is if you're born a literal son of God.

And if you dont like HPL then fuck right off out of my fandom because we do not care about your lukewarm take about him being a racist and we need to rewrite his works. Piss off

Edit: Hoo boy this has gotten around and about, further than I thought it would've. I know it's a bit strange, but thank you to everyone for showing support. Didn't think anyone would read one of my long-winded rants, let alone think it worth of sharing. At first I was just a casual fan of Lovecraft like most people; Cthulhu here, "hey I get that"; a shoggoth there, "ah neato." But after seeing him get so much hatred it started to feel wrong. Then learning what a tragic man he was and seeing Twitter attempt to eviscerate this man...I had to put my thoughts somewhere and this was the only place I had a chance to get it out there and people actually see it. So thank ye kindly strange sea of friends

[thelastpilot]

Knighted- Chapter 8

oops okay i know i never update but take this as an apology? :Dc More Royal Guard!Nino and Princess Alya!

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

Nino loitered uncertainly in the corridor a short distance from the King’s chambers, pulling with undeniably shaky fingers at his royal seal. Being dressed in Full Armor did not fill him with as much pride as it had before, instead now it serves as a reminder for the scrutiny he was about to be under.

Nino leaned out from his hiding spot in a random archway, hoping his two-sided luck would hold and Adrien might appear. He just wanted some kind of reassurance that he looked appropriate for an audience with the King. The last time he had one he had been in torn worker’s clothes with too-big tattered boots and an old sword at his hip. The things he wore now were significantly more impressive but… if he wore any of it wrong he’d look just as much like a farmer as he did when he first got there.

All the senior guards had conveniently ignored him this morning… so he had no confirmation one way or another.

The thought made his hands feel hot as he struggled to repress that twist of anger. So much hard-won ground had been shattered underneath him last night. Part of him resented the Captain for causing such a scene, but no doubt she had her own opinions. He couldn’t even imagine how long she must have fought and struggled to be acknowledged even once by the royal family, or perhaps her motivation was more on behalf of her men. He couldn’t tell, not like he even knew what this was all about yet, but even as far in as the royal chambers he could practically feel all the veterans rooting against him, hoping he would be punished somehow. Like that would somehow be fair.

There were a few who didn’t care about his summon, Kim for one. He had caught wind of Nino’s little scene with the royal family from all the gossip, but it hadn’t occurred to him to mind at all. He was just sad he had missed it since it sounded so hilarious, and though Kim probably didn’t mean it as supportive per say Nino was grateful for it regardless. And the Captain has relaxed as well after her initial outburst so… he had no idea where he stood with her. Still, whatever allies he had retained hadn’t been around to help him get ready. He had only ever worn full armor once, and while he was reasonably sure he had done it right, he felt abruptly…

Alone.

Nino waited as long as he could, pulling at the straps of his armor and trying to keep his anxiety from paralyzing him as the seal slipped and folded. The more he tugged at it and the more it bunched and slipped, the more stranded he felt.

Servants and messengers passed him quietly, their duties sending them streaming passed like he was left to stand on a solitary bank, untouched by the current. He was almost out of time to stall now, and he took a moment of his privacy to breathe.

For the first time in a while… he felt like a farm boy. Holding his father’s sword in a field and pretending to be a soldier.

He breathed deeply again, attempting to steel himself in whatever way he could, when-

“It’s the loop.”

 The voice could not have been gentler, but the guard jumped regardless, turning quickly to face the interrupted stream.

Nino looked and found a servant meeting his gaze, the girl looking apologetic for startling him but raising her free hand to point at his shoulder. “The seal,” she explained, her voice girlish and sweet, “If it doesn’t catch it won’t stay, you can’t pin it or it will slip when you move.”

The girl smiled warmly and shifted the weight of the basket on her hip. She was dressed plainly, like a worker, but her natural beauty could not be hidden in simple clothing. Her dark black hair poured loosely on her shoulders, and she matched him with kind, blue eyes as she waited for a response.

“The- oh-,” he finally answered, feeling a little lame as he tried to look. His armor was too bulky to allow him to see what she might have meant, but before he could come up with the words to ask she was placing her things against the archway and stepping forward to help him.

“It’s easier to do it as you’re getting dressed,” she coached gently, stretching up onto her tip-toes to fidget with the weighty cloth. She smiled when he tilted his shoulder down to make it easier for her, now crouched a little awkwardly but trying to be accommodating.

He was quiet for an unsteady moment more, but when she stepped back to examine her work he couldn’t help but blurt out, “T-thank you!”

“Anytime,” she answered genuinely, making a show of checking for any other problems.

He hurried to hold his arms out, eager and relieved to have the second opinion. He smiled and sighed happily when she nodded, finding no other faults and nodding her head once more in confirmation.

“So everything’s good?” he double checked anyways, grateful that she was humoring him, even if she laughed a little.

“Fit for a King,” she reassured him.

The stranger bent down to retrieve her things but Nino beat her to it, quickly picking up her basket so he could hand it to her.

“Thank you so much,” he said again, laughing a little. “Genuinely. You have no idea how much better I feel having someone to tell me I don’t look like an idiot.” He rubbed at the back of his hair a little with a gloved hand, a gesture he could never really kick. “I get… uh, nervous,” he admitted.

To his surprise she laughed again, the sound of it sweet. “Everyone does, it’s okay. But I am glad I could make you feel better.”

“What’s your name?” he asked quickly when it looked like she was going to leave.

“Marinette. And I know who you are,” she answered with a slight curtsy. “It’s very nice to meet you Nino.”

Nino stood there with a dumb expression on his face, opening his mouth as if to respond but falling short, settling for a frown when she laughed at him again. “… my captain might have a point about my name getting around.”

“It’s not a bad thing, honest! It’s just that, well, the servants talked a lot about you when you first showed up.” She gave him a little shrug and another one of her smiles, gesturing with her head down the hallway. It took him a second to realize she was urging him to get going, probably having some sense that he was going to be late. “It makes sense for all of us to know who you are.”

“I guess…,” he allowed, glad when he noticed she was heading the same direction as him. They walked a little while. “Do people… like me?”

She laughed again and he frowned at her playfully, but she didn’t seem to mind making fun of him. And, honestly, that was pretty nice.

“Yes Nino, people like you, you’re a hero to a lot of them you know.”

“Oh, well I-… hm,” he hummed quietly, naturally walking with practiced steps now as they made their way towards the royal rooms. After a moment he said, “I never really set out to be a hero or anything. I was just trying to find paying work.” He mulled it over for a second and gave her a shrug too. “Guess I got a little overzealous.”

He shared in her laugh this time, some of the posted guards he passed giving him a look, but he didn’t care. The servants that passed them in hurried errands watched them curiously, a few of them smiling even, and that held a lot more weight to him, he realized.

As they walked and talked lightly about not much at all, it occurred to him that he might be worrying a little too much about what people thought again.

A simple thought that probably wouldn’t stick but… hey, he was trying.

 He hadn’t been very far from his destination when he faltered, so it wasn’t much of a walk until they were passing the royal chambers he was familiar with, Marinette pausing in front of the door he recognized as Alya’s. He couldn’t help but peer at it curiously, Marinette diverting his attention for a moment with a curtsy.

“Thank you for escorting me, sir,” she said for show, Nino aware for the first time of the two guards posted outside the princess’s room watching them intently.

“No problem mam,” he replied with a bow, Marinette giggling a little at the informality. He swore he heard one of the guards huff, but whatever. Screw them.

He was done trying to impress people who didn’t matter.

“Thank you again,” he added, lingering a little to look through the gap she created as she opened the door. He couldn’t see anyone inside, the servant possibly looking to complete a task while the princess was away.

“Anytime,” she repeated.

It was too short but… they both looked at the posted guards, and reluctantly they let their interaction end. Nino was quite possibly going to be late now and that was completely unacceptable, but he had gotten so caught up in the small talk.

As Marinette disappeared inside he was left to hustle down the hallway, hyper aware now of the servants as he passed them. The hallway wasn’t too crowded as he crossed the short distance to the King’s chambers, but a few of them looked. A few of them smiled.

And he felt a little less abandoned.

The King’s Chambers were empty as he paced his room, wanting to enjoy this rare moment of solitude but his mind too heavy with guarded thoughts. He didn’t even find peace enough to sit, though he wouldn’t have been able to. Every chair in his well-furnished chamber was stacked with parchments and letters, each one a source of distraction. He paused for a moment and picked one up, finding yet another confirmation of attendance, which was good, he supposed. More arguments to be had, more things to discuss. All the same things, so little ever decided. He had managed to spare his children from this particular round of discussion, even Alya though she of course assumed it was out of punishment. Still though, he knew she wouldn’t complain.

As soon as his thoughts turned towards his daughters, he was interrupted by the familiar wrap of an armored hand on the door.

“Your summon is here for you, sire,” one of his personal guards called in, his voice stilted and professional.

Otis stood for a moment… frowning. … had he called for someone? A servant perhaps. To send something? He hoped not, he had nothing to be sending. Or did he have something and he had just forgotten? That was probably… bad. If he had sent for a messenger, he definitely had a message that needed sending, but- hm…

“Come,” the King called, fully prepared to make something up. One perk of being the King is that you usually went unquestioned, but he felt a little haggard and old to have something slip his-

The door opened and a tall guard stepped calmly through, and the moment the King saw his face he was relieved to have his conversation with the Captain the day before suddenly spring to mind.

RIGHT.

“Yes, yes, I remember now,” he muttered out loud by way of greeting, gesturing at the guard as he took a post near the door closing behind him, bowing obediently. “Excellent, you’re right on time. I intended to speak with you in person. Nino, yes?” he confirmed his name despite being fairly certain of it, if only to give him an opening to respond.

“Yes Your Majesty,” he replied right away, his voice firm.

The King paced closer, his hands folded behind his back as he examined him. He had not scrutinized him this closely since Adrien had first brought him to be considered, having not even seen him again until yesterday. He was dressed appropriately and held himself more confidently then he had when they had first met, but he had grown since then. Not is stature, but something else.

He was made of something stronger now.

The King looked away from him, enjoying the moment but not having long to spend on this. His eyes wandered over the many papers and tomes that required his attention, but he looked back to the boy to give him what focus he was due.

“Did your Captain inform you of the nature of this summon?” he asked plainly, lifting a stack of papers from one of the chairs nearby.

“No sire.”

“Really?” Otis replied, shrugging a little. “I suppose I didn’t tell her much. When I asked her about your performance, she was begrudgingly honest.” The King couldn’t help but smile at him with humor. “I think a guard sticking out so much annoys her, but between you and I she has no room to be so critical.”

He rolled his eyes, and Nino was struck briefly by how humanizing that was, though the King himself did not seem to notice.

“I still remember when that tiny woman fought her way through the entire Knight’s Tourney and lit the social hierarchy of the castle on fire just by showing up,” he continued with a chuckle. “Comparatively? You are very quiet. But second to a hurricane is to be expected.”

There was a moment where the boy said nothing, but when he looked up at his silence the guard smiled. “The Captain carves a figure sire, I don’t want to make her angry.”

“Wise man!” Otis exclaimed, rewarding him with a smile and enjoying how this seemed to make him relax a little.

This young lad has been here for a season now, but despite what may have been his best effort he still did not quite vanish into the crowd like he must have intended. However, he could understand why his daughter’s might have been intrigued by that difference.

“I have duties for you to attend to, so I will keep this brief. I’m sure you have taken notice of the number of visitors the castle is entertaining at the moment…?” Otis let it hang in the air, waiting for Nino’s ‘Yes Sire,’ before continuing. “Well, we will be expecting a good deal more within the coming weeks for political purposes and the castle will be crowded as a result. I’m sure you can understand that security is our highest priority.”

“Of course sire,” he obediently replied, looking serious.

Otis gave him a slight nod of approval, elaborating as he stepped away to look over the papers crowded on his desk. “With every noble comes an entourage of guards who aren’t ours and servants we don’t know. Things are bound to be overheard and whispered about before long… For the most part the people give me their good faith, but the air within the castle grounds is sure to be tense, in time.” He looked over at the guard standing attentively, eager it seemed to show him that same good faith he spoke of. He nearly smiled again but kept his expression even.

“In times like these, I worry about my daughters. With so many people in the castle I tend to restrict their movements and they resent me for it, but my intentions are good. We have many guards and this is their home, but until we have our privacy it is best if they stay in this wing of the castle, unless needed elsewhere.”

Otis made a vague gesture with his free hand, pointing out towards the direction of the hall somewhat dismissively.

“We have our regular detail of course, they will remain, but when it came to their personal guard you came to mind.”

The King had been looking through the papers in his hands with distraction but glanced up just in time to catch the shock running across the young man’s face. He mastered it quickly of course, fumbling for a professional distance but his earnest nature betraying him somewhat. This time Otis couldn’t help his smile, seeing what his wife may have meant when she spoke of him. He did seem… young. But he wasn’t a fool. He had spoken to both the Captain and Adrien directly on this matter, and even if Alix had done so with distaste, she gave a fair and honest report on his abilities. Whether she was pleased or not to have her senior guards passed over, she assured him that the young man was capable and driven.

“They like you,” the King explained, raising an eyebrow slightly and was glad to see that the boy still had enough wits about him to look nervous. “They told me all about you yesterday… I was skeptical, but it was my wife who encouraged me to reconsider. It was her suggestion that we assign you to them.”

He continued to watch the boy carefully, attempting to gauge his emotions and finding this moment important. The safety of his children was no small consideration.

“They are bound to hate me for cooping them up,” he continued, sighing, “but I am prepared for that. The least I can do is give them someone they like. They might get bored eventually but it’s worth a try if it means keeping them happy.” He grumbled a little at how this might go poorly for him… and after a moment he narrowed his eyes, sealing the guard to the spot.

“My daughters mean everything to me, your first priority is always their safety. However, if you can manage to also keep them happy and behaved… I encourage you to try.”

Otis relaxed only slightly and looked away to give the boy room to release the breath he was holding. “Who knows, they might even listen to you. You’ve had great luck before, perhaps you’ll have some more.”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” the boy said somewhat breathlessly, his expression awed and determined. It was very similar to the look her had given him before, when he was awarded a place in the castle. “It is… an honor, sire.”

The young guard bowed deeply, overwhelmed it would seem. Otis nodded and waited for him to stand, looking him in the eye. Nino did not look away at first, perhaps he did not think to. Little things like that showed where he came from, but as he hurried to correct himself Otis had faith that he had practice where it counted. Maybe not in courtesy or court proceedings but… he seemed earnest, and incredibly loyal.

When the boy had stood before him as he was sworn into the guard, he had sworn his fealty with an intensity he could never have appreciated from one of his people; his greater, humbler people. He could do with more time, and teachings… but there was also something else. Something unteachable that Adrien had assured him of.

He would gladly give his life to uphold what he had sworn to, and that intensity gave him some small comfort. It was a position of relatively little risk, for now. He was the last one in a long line of obstacles between the world and his daughters, but that final barrier was an important one. He was curious to see how this farmer would do.

“You will be assigned as the personal guard of my twin daughters; you are not to leave their side until the visitations have concluded. Then we will see what to make of you.”

Something flashed across his face, just minutely.

 Oh.

The twins?

Oh. Yes, of course.

Of course, he had meant the twins. That made a lot of sense. He had just sort of assumed- but, well he had said they. He just thought he meant- well the daughters. But yes, the twins. He was to watch the twins.

Nino wrestled with the pride that grew within him, in a war for his life with the grin threatening to compromise his composure. He was bursting at the seams with energy, completely overwhelmed with determination. Within one audience he was again aware of the seal on his shoulder, the vibrant purple of it so present in his mind he thought he might drown in it. HA! And so many of the old bastards in the guard were waiting for him to fail! Hoping he would be punished!

The King milled around his desk for a moment, murmuring to himself and sifting through papers, and despite his confidence high he felt another spark of unease as he was unsure of what to do. He hadn’t actually been-

“That will be all I imagine,” the King finally said, “You are to defer to your Captain for orders and instruction, though I imagine the Knights may wish to speak with you as well. You are dismissed, but Nino,” he added abruptly, cutting off the bow the boy was about to give him. He looked him in the eye again, stressing his authority. “Remain attentive.”

“I- yes, of course Your Majesty,” Nino managed, his pride somewhat deflated by what seemed to be doubt, but he shook it off easily enough as he bent into a deep bow. Fine then, he thought to himself as he stood up straight, turning and leaving with measured, confident steps.

All he could ask for were opportunities. Chances, risks, that’s all. His whole life here was a series of gambles he stubbornly leaned into, again and again, and he wasn’t about to quit now. Part of him was ashamed of himself for ever wavering, letting his worries get the better of him as he quaked in the hidden archway like a child. Everyone was waiting for it to collapse in on him, and maybe he was as well. But until then, he thought, marching down the hall standing above all the others,

I’m not stopping.

 -----------------------------

“STOP! Stop that both of you!”

Nino’s desperate shouts were met with mischievous laughs, overlapping each other and shrieking shrilly as he dashed through the ruined chamber, snatching Ella from the edge of her balcony as her sister screamed and ran passed him, diving for her bed and crawling underneath. Ella flailed in his arms, still in one of her formal dresses despite the fact that she was supposed to be in bed AGES ago, rebelling against him as they had the time of their lives. “Etta! Get out of there right now!”

All he got back was her screaming laughter, kicking further beneath the bed as Ella finally wrestled free and ran to join her, laughing hysterically as Nino caught one of her ankles, tugging her back. As he pulled her back and groaned in frustration he fell heavily to one knee, Ella tucked underneath one arm as he crouched and fished his free hand underneath the huge bed frame. He barely caught the edges of Etta’s dress with his finger tips but it was enough to get a grip, apologizing in his mind to the seamstress he knew was responsible for their dresses repair and tugging harshly, sliding the giggling princess out into the open so he could glare at her.

This was SO not his damn job.

“Your handmaidens are going to be here any minute so both of you settle down! It’s bed time and I expect you to listen!”

“You can’t tell us what to do!” Etta piped up, her face scrunching up as her playful sneer was ruined by her laughter. “We’re princesses!”

“Oh, don’t even try it,” Nino muttered, scooping her up under his other arm and toting them towards the bed as they laughed and laughed, knowing full well that excuse didn’t work anymore.

The twins thought they were so funny, nobody entertained them like they could entertain themselves. Separated they were docile but together they were ridiculous, and honestly it was his own fault.

He’d been at this for two weeks now and he was losing his mind trying to contain the monsters he had made of these two little girls.

Everything had started out just fine. It had honestly made his day to see the look on their faces when he was presented to them as their personal guard. They had been in public company at the time so they did their best to restrain themselves, their parents strict lessons on formality no doubt ringing in their ears but they still grinned up at him with joy. He didn’t bother to hide his warm smile in return, letting them be excited, and letting himself be a little excited as well. He took his position very seriously, but he was relishing in the opportunity he had reflected upon before. How these kids could not be children, there in the halls or even in the body of the castle. They had been children only a few times since he had met them and they had come to know his name, twice in a hallway and once in a field… and he had wished then that he might give them more of that.

But THIS was bullshit.

Nino tossed them both roughly onto the bed, giving them a glowering look that they both seemed unphased by, rolling around and laughing to themselves. He gave a heavy sigh and smoothed down their dresses, in the middle of reminding them to be lady like with their skirts when there was a knock on the door.

“Speak,” he called out, having to project to be heard.

He immediately sighed in relief when the familiar voice of one of their handmaidens reached him, turning and heading towards the door as he said, “Enter.”

The girls sat upright but were still laughing to themselves as the handmaiden entered, carrying their sleepwear in her hands and greeting them sweetly. However, when she looked up at Nino her greeting died in her throat, instead replaced by a sympathetic chuckle.

“Having a hard time?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” he grumbled sourly, allowing the princesses to hear him and grimacing at their chorus of laughter. Nino gave the maiden the most genuine look of frustration he could possibly muster as he abandoned the girls and crossed over to her, saying quieter, “The other way of putting it is not age appropriate.”

He got a laugh out of her like he had been hoping, her muffled giggles into the cloth she was holding enough to mollify him a little (only a little). Mylene, as she was called, looked up at him with pity, and then suddenly held out her things for him to hold.

He took them in confusion but watched obediently as Mylene slowly reached up to tie back her thickly corded hair with a long cloth, her expression settling into the most relieving thing he could possibly see.

The mom face.

He sighed audibly as she snatched back their things from him, calling out in a sing song voice, “Now, your highnesses,” and it was utterly effective.

The twins halted in their bouncing, growing still as their maiden strode towards them, scolding them in that same, oddly firm sing-song tone. “You know it’s time to be getting ready for bed, so it’s not very fair to give your guard a hard time now is it?”

Etta and Ella were quiet, shooting each other looks before mumbling something like, “Well you weren’t here-,”

“Yeah so we were playing and-,”

“Well,” Mylene cut them off, busying herself with gathering them up despite their protests, “me running a little behind is no reason to run rampant, so let’s get you two ready.”

She waved her hands at them dismissively as their complaints got more pronounced, and Nino couldn’t help but smile smugly when they glared at him. It was a petty victory to have to rely on the maidens again but he didn’t have that way with them yet, he was a guard not a caretaker. Usually at least one of their four maidens was with them, the leader of the bunch being Mylene, but in the brief time where they were not… it was chaos.

He had no one but himself to blame.

He jolted from his thoughts when Mylene suddenly turned on him as well, coming at him quickly and shooing him with her hands, pushing him out the door while explaining, “Go! They need to be washed and changed I’m already late as it is, go!” And then he was out in the hallway, left to breathe a blissful sigh.

Thank god for the maidens… it was almost an entirely genuine prayer, he thought it with as much reverence.

Nino posted up near the door to the twin’s room, relaxing a little more than he might normally since his presence was clearly superfluous. There were six other guards in this hallway alone, not to mention how many of them were posted nearby. The other guards looked over at him when he was pushed out into the open, but quickly returned to minding their spaces and he was left without their attention.

This was more or less his routine, having gone through a similar schedule every day for the last two weeks. What the young princesses were expected to do to occupy their time changed every day, but their movements were so restricted through the bulk of the castle’s meetings that for the most part they spent their day in the same wing they slept in. Nino was forced to stand by quietly as they diligently practiced and studied, watching over them as they saw to their lessons and whiled away their time. There were very few pockets of chaos as they did this, normally reserved for when he was escorting them back to their rooms for the evening to sew or read. That’s when they would start getting rowdy, and he would have to corral them inside when they were at their most energetic. Of course they would be, they were asked to sit and curtsy and sing for hours during the morning and early afternoon, they were children of course they get hyper. So, he tried to be understanding of their little outbursts but god it was so hard to manage. The handmaidens had a masterful approach by now that he did not, and since he was their most interesting ‘new friend’ he was put through quite a bit.

The maidens had gotten to quite like him, thankfully, Mylene being one of the only ones he had actually met beforehand. He often saw her hanging around Ivan, waiting for him to be done with his shifts or crowding around to watch him spar. No doubt she had been with him before realizing she was going to be late, but who was he to ask. The thought made him smile.

That was a little inappropriate, a royal guard and a handmaiden, but it wasn’t so bad. He was noble born but its not like he was a duke or anything, and she was high up in the inner circle as one of the young princesses’ caretakers. So it wasn’t so bad, and almost no one minded. Not that Ivan had admitted to it yet, despite everybody’s teasing.

The only other servant in the royal company that he recognized before starting was Marinette, and that was only by a handful of hours. He knew her now to be the chamber attendant to Her Royal Highness Alya Cesaire, but he did not get to see her often. A few pleasant conversations but not much more yet.

It was starting to get late as his mind slowly began to turn towards the twin’s older sister, but he was distracted before long by the gentle, distant call of his charges from inside.

He smiled, both at their insistence of telling him good night, and at the fact that he would soon be off duty. He was working for the entirety of their waking hours so breaks and privacy were rare and short lived. Still though, as a result the pay was astronomically better and just two weeks of work put him miles ahead in his family’s winter fund so… he wasn’t going to complain.

The job had plenty of perks too, he supposed.

He knocked before entering and shut the door quietly behind of him, in a significantly more even mood now that he had had a moment to recollect himself. He was actually about to apologize for being rough with them when he looked up and across the room to their bed and was disarmed by a smile.

“Hello farm boy,” Alya greeted quietly, focusing more on tucking the girls in for the moment, but glancing over to receive his returning smile. And his little bow.

“Hello Your Highness,” he answered without hesitation, gesturing to the door on the left wall that connected this room to her own, “I hadn’t realized you were in your room. I apologize if we were being loud.”

“Oh I’m always in my room,” she grumbled quietly, moving a strand of hair from Ella’s face and only speaking up to say, “And I don’t mind the noise. It sounded like the girls were having fun, even if,” and she glared at them, “it was at their guard’s expense?”

The twins giggled but did not answer, offering no apology whatsoever and Alya looked back just in time to see Nino roll his eyes.

The girls were still giggly but it looked like they were getting tired, Mylene still somewhere nearby it sounded like, probably wrapping up for the night. His replacements to guard the door should be arriving soon, and everyone was getting ready to end the day.

Nino was just in the process of deciding whether or not he was allowed to strike up a conversation when Alya stood up a little abruptly, smoothing her somewhat simple (but still elegant) dress with her hands. She leaned over to kiss both of her sisters on the forehead, stepping away towards him with the intention to pass him it seemed like, and he squashed his disappointment at the missed moment. Tomorrow maybe… but she seemed to be busying herself, already at the hall door by the time she was addressing her sisters.

“Sleep tight you two, and don’t be making a fuss. You’ve been a little too rowdy today and I’m going to be giving your Night Guards a special instruction to come and put you both to bed if they hear anything. So stay in bed.”

She gave them what felt like a fake glare and Nino had no doubt they intended to ignore her entirely but… that was night guards problem.

Still though he raised an eyebrow at her hasty exit, leaving as soon as he arrived and forgoing the door that just went to her room. Instead she was going to take the hall, so she could pass on a message? But she could have just asked him to do that, he was the one passing off to them anyways.

He was going to suggest this when Alya just opened the hall door, giving the twins a final good night and Nino a goodbye of his own, before she quickly but quietly shut the door behind her, and he was alone with the girls once again.

Well the girls and Mylene but she was busy.

Nino was still looking at the hall door with a frown when the twin’s tried to get his attention but…

“Sir Guard,” Ella whined, “Ninnoooo,” and he finally turned, clearly distracted and looking back towards the hall a few times.

“Yes?”

“Goodnight!” Etta exclaimed, like it was obvious, waving a little though he was fairly close to her. Her sister copied her and Nino waved back, smiled, but then looked back to the door, a bad feeling creeping up on him.

The twins were saying something more but he started to make a hasty exit of his own, mollifying them with a few warm goodnights and assurances that he would see them in the morning, but heading quickly for the door as well.

Because it had taken him a moment to realize but the replacements for the night weren’t actually there yet.

Nino opened the door with a little more gusto then necessary and left his charges pouting a bit but he had something slightly more pressing to be concerned with.

Nino entered the quiet, stuffy stone hallway with a significant spike in awareness, not taking anything lightly just because there were others around to watch his back. Mostly because, judging by the gap in security, he wasn’t actually as covered as he had assumed.

He looked down towards Alya’s room and felt a horrible crawl of dread against his skin as he saw her two personal guards waiting obliviously a good distance away, distracted by something and talking amongst themselves. The two of them were still of course doing their job and guarding the door, but…

Nino had a terrible feeling that they were under the impression it was occupied.

‘Okay, okay that’s fine. We don’t need to freak out yet, she couldn’t have made it too far surely someone would have seen her,’ he thought to himself placatingly, looking frantically down both ends of the hall and not seeing much besides a good chunk of guards who couldn’t have possibly missed that. So she must be back inside because how could they have not seen her.

Right so… Nino shifted his weight uneasily, the clink of his boots muffled slightly on the plush, ornate rugs left everywhere. She was out of his sight for… maybe thirty seconds, which was growing rapidly as he hemmed and hawed. He had every reason to assume that surely the six other guards in the hall had seen her standing there, taken her message on behalf of the night watch and escorted her back to her room. Yeah, that’s what happened probably, he probably just missed her.

He tried to let himself breathe a little, but he felt warm and uncomfortable for awhile more anyways. That was pretty irresponsible of him… in his defense he had been directly called in by royalty and could not disobey and there was plenty of presence in the hall, and his position inside the room always constituted that room as guarded regardless of the positions at the door, but if he wasn’t at the door and someone left then he was left relying on everyone else to catch it.

And he didn’t like relying on anyone else.

But what could he do really, order one of the others to watch his door for him? Half of the guard hated him, and the royal hall was almost always reserved for senior guards so usually everyone in the hallway hated him. So they would likely not listen to him anyways, or report him for negligence.

Oh well that was a great thought… they were probably just waiting till the ends of their shifts now to tell Alix about how Alya left the twin’s room unattended.

It was like, two seconds… ugh.

The severity of their watch really must be driving the daughters crazy at this point, and Nino fought a frown at the thought. Two full weeks of constant uninterrupted watch, and it would keep on for a few more days, or so the servants had told him.

Nino continued to bear the stiff silence of the hall, the only sound the occasional chatter from Alya’s guards a ways away from him. He watched them with a skeptical eye for a while, wondering where they got off chatting so much. And moving so much, every few minutes one of them would wander off and check the windows, looking around before returning to their post.

With such diligence, inconsistent though it seemed to be they surely saw Alya leave, and surely returned her to her room. It was almost as certain that this likely irritated her which… he completely understood. He mourned his own privacy while working so closely with the twins, he couldn’t imagine that being the entirety of his life. The rumors he had heard over time of the princesses (mostly Alya) sneaking off or even attempting to evade their guard (again, mostly Alya) had been entertaining when he heard them, but now as they occurred to him they seemed a little dismal. And also a little alarming, but again, six guards in a hallway. Wasn’t even a problem. Some of them weren’t even facing this door and a few of them were talking amongst themselves but still, six.

Regardless, he wished he could offer her royal highness some kind of reprieve, more so then kind smiles and informal chit-chat whenever he could spare it. If he could give her freedom he liked to think he would, so long as she didn’t try to run off on him.

Which she wouldn’t do, and hadn’t done, especially not now.

…

Doubt clung to his back as he started to shift uneasily in place, trying to decide just how much stock he was willing to put in rumors versus the capability of his fellow guards. He watched her personal detail start talking again, laughing at something and turning away… and his fear for the worst grew past his ability to give good faith.

“Ehem,” he eventually dared, every guard in the hallway instantly turning to regard him and nearly all of them sneering. He swallowed slightly but straightened his back, trying and failing to be casual as he said, “Um, just a status report. Before I leave for the night um… but where is the eldest princess? She’s… in her room, I suppose?”

There was a brief disbelieving silence before four of the guards just straight up ignored him, the final two being Alya’s personal detail who snorted condescendingly.

“Obviously,” cracked the senior guard, his partner laughing meanly as if to mock him. “What the hell you think we’ve been doing all day?” The two shot each other a look, shaking their heads at his idiocy and returning to their not so diligent guard,

of a completely empty room.

 “Ah,” was all Nino replied.

 Fuck.

[thejustmaiden]

The Sesshomaru F*cks Debacle

Hey, fellow Inuyasha fans! How we feeling?? I imagine a lot of us are doing quite fabulously after the recent news we got about the sequel coming out this Fall, "Hanyou No Yashahime." So if it wasn't obvious already, I want to take the time to discuss the topic of- you guessed it- Sesshomaru. Go figure! 

***THIS IS A REPOST OF MY ORIGINAL BLOG THAT DISAPPEARED FROM THE TAGS. PICS/GIFS HAVE BEEN REMOVED TO HOPEFULLY REPAIR THAT.***

Let's be real, as much as probably (and literally lol) all of us have viewed him as "daddy material" at some point or another during our teens, Sesshomaru being physically intimate with another being, much less a human, is difficult to conjure up in our minds. And there's nothing wrong with that, per se, as sex and romance doesn't come so easily to some as it does to others. Then again, that's not to say a romantic relationship is completely impossible or unattainable for him either. 

I, for one, am not a huge fan of the idea of Sesshomaru siring children of his own. Granted, adopting/protecting children and other small companions is kinda his thing (I saw one user even describe him as a 'walking daycare' 🤣), and maybe it'll just take some getting used to, but all in all it's not entirely unfathomable to picture him having biological children. Though I'd be lying if I said I still didn't prefer he just took these two twin half-demon girls in and under his wing instead, like he did Rin. However, seeing as that's unlikely the case since the two girls resemble him in some fashion, the chances of that coming true are slim, which must mean that Sesshomaru did in fact bone some lucky lady. That's not to say I don't acknowledge that there's still a chance these kids aren't truly his but we'll see! 

Which leads me to the real reason behind this blog! I'd like to address in-depth why I and so many other Inuyasha fans consider shipping S*ssrin as wrong and why it makes a lot of us extremely uncomfortable. 

BUT FIRST BEFORE I FORGET, I want to give a little unofficial disclaimer by stating that this blog isn't intended to upset certain fans regarding my stance on the controversial ship. Thus I will not tag it under that ship name, and I suggest others who agree with me to do the same in any of their future posts. 

Because let's not forget that the most important thing is that we're all fans here. We fell in love with this story and hold its beloved characters close to our hearts for a reason. And that still counts even if you're returning to this fandom a decade later. So please, let's try and remember that and be civil towards one another. Putting people down by attacking and insulting others in real life really doesn't make us any better than them. I REPEAT, please do not engage in this post unless you plan to be kind and respectful of others who may have a differing opinion than you. There's never a need to be ugly towards another human being. That goes for all shippers and fans of Sesshomaru in general. Thank you in advance for your understanding and compliance. 😊

Again, none of these comments are aimed at being inflammatory towards those fans who have a different approach to this pairing. If any of you are reading this now, please keep that in mind before deciding to participate in any discourse with me and other antis. 

Okay, let me go ahead and list a few of the main arguments fans of this particular ship use to support them together. Then I'll give my reasons why those aren't enough to justify their relationship turning romantic:

1. Rin will be an adult before they get romantically involved

2. Sesshomaru didn't raise her and therefore isn't her father; he was never like a father to her in the first place

3. Sesshomaru hasn't been grooming her, not then and not now. Besides, it was Rin's choice first.

4. Age difference shouldn't matter when you look at other relationships in the series (InuKag, Koga x Ayame, etc.)

5. It was always going to be canon because the drama CDs exist

 These are the main points I'm seeing around. Now let's dissect them, shall we? These are my direct responses- I'll try to keep them short and concise. Fyi: Jk! I'm lying, that never happens. 😆

1. Rin may be an adult, but from our standpoint that doesn't make much of a difference. It doesn't matter because it's all about how her relationship with Sesshomaru started off and how it continued onwards. From that moment, it was basically established from the get-go that their relationship resembles that of one a young girl shares with an older man who winds up becoming her guardian. She initiated it by trying to bring him food while he was injured, and he reciprocated by deciding to bring her back to life that fateful day. 

Of course we're all happy that he did, because he's a better demon for it and a similar thing could be said about her! Therefore you must understand that fans against this pairing find it very hard to grasp the notion of a budding romance here when we look at their history. For us, it's synonymous to imagining a father eventually falling in love with his daughter or someone else who reminds him of a daughter, and vice versa. But let's just say he's not a father to her like many of you claim and more like, say a modern-day babysitter. Isn't it still bizarre to you that a young girl could fall in love with the man who looked after her and cared for her at that age, maybe even played games with? One day or on multiple occasions he even sees her naked because she had an accident and got hurt so she needed help changing or something. I admit it's more realistic that it was Jaken if anyone who'd be in charge of this, but why does it really matter who was tasked with what? Sesshomaru may have not been around all the time but that doesn't mean he's any less involved or invested in Rin's general care and well-being. So it's that thought alone that keeps many of us from even contemplating a romance forming between them. Whether he hardly interacted with her over the years or not is irrelevant, because it's clear to me that they have both formed a strong enough bond that constitutes calling them family. I highly doubt he ever even planned to keep Rin in his company as long as he did. But it happened, and whether you want to admit it or not, meeting her changed his life. Meaning Rin was never just some girl he traveled with or hardly knew. Despite his feigned indifference and stoic ways at times, I'm pretty sure we can all agree that Rin grew on him and was the first person to really influence him in a way that helped soften and open up that heart of his in a way nobody ever had before. One's significance to any given person isn't solely measured by the quantity of time spent alongside that person but by the quality of how that time was spent with said person. It's safe to say that in the case of Sesshomaru and Rin, they definitely fall under that category. 

2. Fair if you don't view Sesshomaru as Rin's father, but you must acknowledge that he did fill some father figure-like role to her at the very least. Or let's just call him her vassal if you think that's a more accurate description. Also, can I just quickly stress again that it doesn't matter how long she spent by his side or whether she spent more time in the village or not, because he still ended up playing a major part in her childhood as an adult male role model. Regardless of the title you give him, it still stands that although he may not be her official adoptive father, he is LIKE A FATHER. There really is no point in denying that, because their dynamic exudes one of a father-daughter. I guarantee you that any outsider looking in would agree that if not her father then at the very least he embodies a male relative of some kind. Honestly, the details of their relationship dynamic specific to this show (regional/period differences, human vs. demon culture, etc.), don't really matter here. Why? Because one can assume that the general consensus here is that a large percentage of fans perceive their connection as a familial one. Yes, most would unanimously agree that Rin and Sesshomaru, along with Jaken and Ah-Un, are a FAMILY. 

If she had first met him as an adult, then we'd possibly have a very different story here. The point of the matter is that he didn't, so that should be where this discussion ends. Unfortunately, for many, it's not. The bottom line is that a child he knew and cared for should never be someone he begins to view in a romantic light. I don't care how many years have passed (or that to demons years are like days or some less inconsequential length of time), and how much she's matured or how specific marriage customs were back then (if they're no longer appropriate now then why are we still condoning these backward practices?). Rin should NEVER have the desire to be sexually attracted to this father figure she's always looked to and trusted to protect her. Maybe it's vastly different from a demon's perspective (even though still unjustifiable in my opinion), but as a human, Rin's feelings towards Sesshomaru wouldn't and shouldn't suddenly change towards him and in such a drastic manner mind you. Yeah, maybe she used to have an innocent crush on him, but I'd like to think our smart and compassionate little Rin would learn that was simply because she was a child who didn't know any better. Besides, growing up with Kaede and around other humans I'd like to think she fell in love with another human sometime over the course of all those years. It only makes sense, right? Don't you think that's part of why Sesshomaru left her there in the first place? He wished for her to experience what it was like to live a normal human life, falling in love and marriage both being a key part of that. If I were Sesshomaru, I'd be deeply troubled if I started to develop feelings for a little girl I once protected and kept in my company for quite an extended period of time, which was at least a year from what I understand. (Pls correct me if I'm wrong because I gather it may have been longer.) 

3. Apparently in the manga and the Final Act, we see Sesshomaru still visits the village to check on Rin from time to time. He even brings her gifts, such as beautiful and luxurious kimonos. I recently learned from another Tumblr post that kimonos are what older men gift in order to sort of earn their favor with these young ladies, AKA they're wooing them. If that is indeed true, then that would mean he's basically grooming her and has been for however long she's lived there in the village but potentially even longer. To put it nicely, he's courting her. If this was another young lady (maybe not an adult perhaps but still of marrying age) who he DIDN'T assist in raising, then I could possibly get on board with this.

The thing is, it's far from that with them two if you consider everything they've gone through and endured together! Because he not only met her as a young girl but he got to know her first as a young girl, and she became one of his traveling companions all while she was only a young girl!!! Their bond will always be defined by that time when she was just a young girl, and nothing can or should change that he will always see her in that same light. Kinda like how our parents or other family members from older generations tell us that they'll always see us as their babies. So the fact that her time spent with Sesshomaru is constantly compared to her time spent in the village shouldn't apply here. Don't we all know this already? That we can can come across someone in our lifetime and maybe the time with them is short-lived, but that doesn't make it any less significant or those people any less special. Sesshomaru made an impact on her as much as she did on him, that much we know is true. Sure, it was years ago, but that's not something you ever forget. Sometimes when you look at loved ones you haven't seen in a while, there are just certain memories you have of them from over the years that will come rushing back to you without fail and that you will always cherish no matter what. I'd like to believe that when Rin looks at Sesshomaru and he looks at her, that they can both look back fondly on their times traveling together. This explains why I'm really struggling here to picture how anyone could sleep with someone they used to treat as their guardian/father/ward/daughter/what have you. So someday and somehow, this person just stops viewing them that way, is that it? I mean, how does this work exactly? It's not like you can just flip off a switch and forget everything from your past with this person, ya know? Unless you have your memory wiped, what I'm understanding is that S*ssrin shippers approve of the idea of these two characters KNOWING that they are or used to be like practically FAMILY to each other, yet agree that these two characters in question still have the capacity not to mention desire to pursue HAVING SEX with each other anyway. Do I got that all right? Did I miss anything?  

Originally I provided two examples of fan art I found to help put what I'm trying to say here into better perspective, but since they've been removed, just type in "Sesshomaru and Rin" on Google and you'll find plenty of examples of what I'm talking about here- and no, it's not S*ssrin images. I realize Sesshomaru has never been the touchy-feely sorta guy like it's depicted in some of the fan art, but that doesn't necessarily diminish the affection he feels and attachment he has towards Rin. He just has a different way of expressing his love is all, even if he doesn't outwardly show it. The real question here is, can you really look at sweet pictures of an adult comforting a child who's been under his care for a significant amount of time and then suddenly be like, "oh man, I can't wait till they bang!" I'm sorry, to each their own, but you gotta admit why we must find that creepy. 

4. Regarding Inuyasha and Kagome's relationship, we need to remember that he didn't age after all those years stuck to that tree. And besides, demons age differently so this is a pretty unfair comparison. This isn't the best example, but think about how a cat's lifespan works. 10 years in (indoor) cat years is like 56 in human years. So technically in demon years, Inuyasha is physically and emotionally compatible with a human around Kagome's age. Hell, even though he's over a hundred years older, Kagome is still a whole lot more mature than he probably ever will be! 😂 (Psst! We still love you, Inuyasha! 💋)

Now as for Koga and Ayame, this also isn't comparable to Sesshomaru and Rin. Koga met Ayame one night, only not to see her ever again until she was older and of age. After rescuing her on that night when she was only a girl, he gives her a piggyback ride and you can tell he just wants to cheer her up when he mentions her being his wife someday. (And boy, did that work wonders on Ayame!) Then they gaze at this stunning lunar rainbow together, which I think is quite rare judging by looks of it. This is not an attempt to defend this proposal- if we can even really call it that- but all I'm saying is that I don't think even Koga knows what overcame him in that moment. Fast forward to present-day when they cross paths again, and Ayame still remembers his so-called promise, but guess who doesn't right away? Yep, our man Koga! It takes a quite a while for it to come back to him, too. This further proves my point that something beyond Koga and his power possessed him to say all those things to a little Ayame for some reason. Maybe you can call it destiny, or maybe it was some special kind of magic caused by the lunar rainbow, Idk! All I know is that they do end up together in the Final Act and that it wasn't until they met as two consenting wolf-demons that they really grew to know each other and coincidentally- or maybe not so coincidentally- fall in love.

 5. From what I understand, it appears these drama CDs are some kind of satire which doesn't equate to canon. Perhaps Rumiko did not debunk them but she also didn't confirm they're true either. I'm hearing conflicting reports, however, and her involvement in them is questionable. Like her name is supposedly on the cover or something? But then I've also heard that she has spoken out against this ship. From the sounds of it, there is enough evidence- or lack thereof rather- to conclude that fans cannot use this as proof enough for their ship already being or soon-to-be canon. 

Finally, I'd like to end on this note where I'll be addressing ethics in entertainment. When it comes to our choice of entertainment, there's always a level of escapism implied, sometimes so much that we project ourselves onto certain characters. Delving into a fantasy world like that of Inuyasha can really help some people better cope with real life problems, but it's all about striking the right balance, as each individual has different wants and needs. The thing is there's only so much escapism one can allow in a fictional world before basic morals from our own world begin to take precedence. I can always enjoy some good fantasy, but it's not long until I start to reflect on how I personally relate what entertainment I'm currently absorbed in to real life. It's inevitable really. For example, if certain relationships portrayed on screen conflict with strong opinions I've adopted on a sensitive topic, especially those that take children into account, then I feel it's my responsibility to speak out against any media that even remotely promotes it. Yes, even if it's just fiction. Because art imitates life, right? (And yes, sometimes the other way around.) So in other words, our stories should mirror our way of life to some degree. History has seen its fair share of ugly events and traditions we are surely ashamed of but that we've hopefully learned our lessons from. Most societies nowadays seriously frown upon or condemn stuff like pedophilia, child grooming, or anything of the sort. Of course it doesn't help that we see still see these kinds of issues glossed over so much that we've become desensitized to them in many respects.

The thing is we cannot allow this way too common older-man-dotes-on-young-girl trope (or anything resembling it) to continue to be glorified or romanticized. It matters not that feudal Japan was a drastically different time to be alive and that this was the norm back then, or even that this remains a popular ship in Japan. All it comes down to is if whether we would currently tolerate such acts and behaviors were we to witness them in real life. If your answer is 'no', then it should be 'no' in every respect. If you deem it acceptable just because it's fiction, then I'm sorry to say, but you're going to have to answer to a lot of people. No surprise there, that goes for all fandoms. I guarantee you it's not just the people who personally identify as victims who have serious qualms with this ship either, because you don't necessarily need to have bad experiences of your own in order sympathize and see where a lot of these people are coming from. And no, just because I'm unhappy with the possibility of S*ssrin going canon does not mean I'm whining or that I'm attempting to spread negativity about this series before it's even out. Remember, fans have the right to be critical of whatever content it is they're watching/reading, and if they demand something in the storytelling be represented better, then of course they can challenge that. After all, none of us should feel like "canceling" the content we love is our only hope to fixing a story. That's not how it ever should be. Fans are fed up, and can you really blame them? Nah, we can strive to do better in this area, plus it's not like there isn't always room for improvement. So let's please be more vigilant about how the content we consume translates to reality, in addition to being mindful of how it can directly correlate to real life problems for ourselves as well as others around us.  

That's a wrap, y'all!! I hope you enjoyed what I had to offer on this topic, and here's hoping I actually contributed something new to this conversation! I'm aware that that's unlikely the case for us fans who've been living in this tag the past couple days (like me lol), but I'd like to believe I put my own spin on it and it was still worth your while. 😉 

P.S. Overall, I remain optimistic about the new show! So are there any friendly Inuyasha group chats on Tumblr I can join? If so, please do invite me! I need to obsess about this sequel even more than I already am, EEEK!!!

[thebrighteye]

Protector

I was broken you made me whole again The only one I trusted more than myself -What I Believe [Skillet] Febuwhump Day 14: "I didn't mean it." | Fandom: Overwatch (Pre-Fall) | Angela & Gabriel

AO3 | FF.net | Works

"Did you know that my parents died in the war?" She asked, the sudden change of topic making him blink with surprise. "Angela, what--" He started, but she spoke over him. "They died, leaving me an orphan with my grandparents. Already an outsider – the girl without parents – I buried myself in my academics because I had a burning need to prove myself worthy. So, I flew through school – all the way through university and medical school." Angela didn't know where the words were coming from, only that she needed to say them and he needed to hear them. "Then, my grandparents died - and I was truly an orphan then, with no one at all to turn to." She sighed as her eyes dropped to her lap. "I didn't have any friends, because who wanted to be friends with a child that was smarter than them? It was incredibly lonely, with teachers that had no time and peers that avoided me, so I drowned myself in my studies and ignored the looks and the whispers." Angela shrugged as if to say it happens sometimes, that it didn't matter - though clearly it did, considering she was recounting it to him now. "It was no different at the hospital; I excelled, moved up the ranks, and my peers hated me even as they respected me. I had no friends – not someone I'd gossip with or laugh with, though I admit I throw myself into my work so deeply that I have little time for such things, as you know." She smiled derisively, as if it didn't bother her – though if it hadn't, she wouldn't be talking about it, forcing the words out for him to hear. "Then you and Jack showed up, and I decided to join Overwatch – even with my misgivings. I expected it to be much the same, especially with my less-than-stellar opinions." She took a breath, having almost forgotten how to breathe in her need to speak. "But it wasn't. I have friends here – honest friends, not the ones that wait for you to stumble so they can pull the rug out from under you." Angela glanced up and saw that Gabriel was listening intently, still curious as to what – exactly – her point was. "You, Gabriel, you were my first friend – and I doubt you even knew it, because you're good with people in a way that I'm not. You and Jack and Ana, you were my first friends, ever since I was a small girl that still had parents." She took a shuddering breath and gripped her legs with fingers that trembled. "So believe me, Gabriel, when I say that I can't lose you – any of you. I have lost too much." Angela let out a breath that sounded like a sob. "But you go, all three of you - and you take risks, and you save people, and you get shot - and I am left behind to wait, hands wringing, praying that this time won't be the last time, that you will return home whole or on a gurney for me to put back together and not in a body bag for me to bury." Her words were heated with anger and terror and anxiety: because they made her stay behind, because they didn't trust her to survive on a battlefield, to watch their backs like they watched each other. She let the anger fuel her because anything else would lead to tears, and she just couldn't. Jack had led the team that flushed out the enemy, making sure the way was clear so she could move unhindered. Ana had watched out for her, making sure that they knew there was an enemy behind them so that she wouldn't be hurt. Gabriel had stayed at her side the entire time, and, when it came down to it, he jumped in front of a shooter for her. "So instead of letting me learn how to be useful, you three protect me like a delicate china doll. You shoved me aside to take a bullet. You gave me a concussion, but I still dutifully stopped your bleeding and even pulled a bullet out of you, because you're important and I didn't have time to take care of myself without endangering you." She practically growled the words. "Wait- you had a concussion and you performed surgery on me?" Gabriel's voice was indignant, and she rolled her eyes; he had, of course, missed the point entirely. "You're fine. All your pieces are in the right spots." She snapped back. "A concussion?" He repeated. "Yes. Blow to the head, causes dizziness, nausea? Stop me if any of this sounds familiar." Angela retorted dryly. "I know what a concussion is, Angela. Why were you doing anything with a concussion?" He demanded. "There you go again, coddling me! You had four bullets in you, and you still did your job – you," she hesitated only briefly, "killed the man that would have killed me. I get slammed into a wall – your fault, by the way – and you act like it's the end of the world!" She yelled, fury rising. "My fault? Excuse me for saving your life!" He yelled back, his own temper fraying. "But that doesn't give you any right—" Angela started yelling right back. "I'm the doctor; I have every right." Her words battled with his to be loudest. "—to perform surgery on anyone with a concussion." His eyes were blazing just as much as hers were. "You're the doctor; you should know better." "Are you dead? Dying? Missing pieces?" Angela demanded. "No, because I did my job. You. Are. Fine." The door opened, and both turned to glare at the intruders. Jack stood in the doorway, Ana a step behind him, both looking rather surprised to find the two of them at each other's throats. "My, someone's in a mood today," Ana remarked blithely, recovering first. "You must be feeling better, Gabe." She pushed Jack inside and closed the door behind her. "Now, what's got you both so riled up?" Angela crossed her arms and glared at Gabriel. "He doesn't think I'm capable of being a professional." She accused. "She had a concussion and was operating on me; I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to be pissed about that!" He met her glare with one of his own. Ana clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Simmer down, children." They both turned their glare on the older woman, who just laughed. "You're both right, though you're too angry to see it. Angela, darling, you shouldn't have been doing anything in your state – but in her defense, she was very protective of you, Gabriel." She winked jovially, and Angela found herself blushing despite herself. "Despite her injury, she still performed admirably, and had she been anyone else, you'd probably be praising them." Ana glanced at Jack, and he nodded in agreement. "Now, apologize so we can talk," Ana said, hands on her hips as she waited for them to get on with it already. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Gabriel." Angela murmured, eyes downcast and genuinely contrite; now that the wind was out of her sails, she felt extremely remorseful. "Yeah, I know, doc. I shouldn't have yelled either." Gabriel sighed. "I didn't mean it." "Good. Now that that's done, Angela should have a report for us." The blonde doctor made a face as the other two found seats, but she sat up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears dutifully.

So, like, 99.99% of this has been written for over a year (or three). This was originally going to be a scene in my long fic "Forging" (it would have been part of / the end of the second scene of the 8th chapter "Determination"). But, it got scrapped and put into my giant pile of 'stuff I eventually want to post somewhere' and now, well, here we are!

[littlesailorinthesun]

fact or fiction #1

hello! I have seen a lot of discussion on various love nikki theories recently and I decided to rate them based on how plausible I personally think they are, as well as evaluating the evidence we currently have for them.

however keep in mind that I’m sort of the type of person who likes to get a feel for author’s intention (it helps when trying to read these botched translations). I still try to be as unbiased as possible though. still, the information below is my personal opinions!

Queen Nanari is the Lord / Shadow

★★★★☆ - easiest explanation

This was already commonly believed before Black White Puzzle ("tree of life lore") arrived on the English server, but when I read it through properly for the first time, my only thought was "wow, this is very blatant" - especially in the last few stages. I felt pretty confident that that was what the writers intended to get across. However, I was surprised to find that that was not a universal takeaway. 

For me, the crucial piece of evidence is that Neva has the same relationship with Nanari and with the Lord. She is blindingly loyal to them. She serves them both at the same time. She has sworn her life to both of them. How can she swear her life to both of them and serve them both at the same time with apparently no conflicting loyalties from either? Worth also mentioning the framing: Neva does not think of Nanari specifically during the whole event. "Nanari" is only mentioned during the event when you see the part from Royce's own memories.

Essentially this is something where I believe nearly every piece matches up, even beyond this. Weird foreshadowing about Nanari, dates and times and knowledge... the Kindred blood is basically the only thing about the Lord that does not link them to Nanari. I also need more explanation on the motivation here, but considering how many characters don't even canonically have motivations for things they do (Reid, I'm looking at you) this also isn't make or break. 

The Ancient Pavilion Designer is Xiao Zong

★★★★☆ +0.5 - easiest explanation

Like the one with Nanari, the evidence for this one lies largely in the relationship with another person: King Sayet. For a very long time in the story, it was indicated that the Ancient Pavilion Designer (APD) studied together with Sayet. Volume 2 Chapter 4, which came right before Nine-Night Tales chronologically, was later released, which named APD as Sayet's senior and described him as being cold and aloof. Then, Nine-Night Tales lore was released and - Xiao Zong is described as Sayet's senior, and the fandom collectively looked back and realized that XZ and APD stories lined up in more ways than one. 

Except the big thing: The Ancient Pavilion Designer died years ago.

Or did he?

Well, according to the Miraland Civilization Files book timeline (lore book), he did. But the book was apparently written by the curators of the Ark (time-and-dimension-traveling Shining Nikki construct thing), meaning even they may not have known (or bothered to investigate) the truth. (Meta reason: to keep us guessing). I actually consider the book to be more conclusive evidence, because it reveals something that wasn't stated in the main story - something they went out of their way to change:

In Fu Su's dreamweaver, Sayet dies and APD dies shortly after. You would normally assume this to happen in 672, since it doesn't mention how much time has passed. But the book went out of its way to name the year as 673 instead, which lines up exactly with when Xiao Zong decided to leave the Flower Field (that place where the Ancient Pavilion is) and run off with Mr. Interesting Zhu Yuxian.

So, the situations line up, but the reason I take half a point off this one are because of the huge leaps in logic you have to make to take these pieces and figure that Fu Su’s wise old mentor faked his death and is actually this pretty ruthless guy who literally murders people in cold blood. Still, this gets many points because it seems obvious this is what the writers are trying to say. 

Evelyn (Flickering Pistill) is the Elf Queen (Chloris & Cesare's Mother)

★★★☆☆ - could go either way

Truly one of the few theories where I genuinely have no idea what the writers are intending.

A little bit of background: Due to the prevalent lore chart that spread around many eons ago, it was stated that Evelyn (Flickering Pistill) = Evelyn (Wind's Whisper) = Chloris's Mother. Well... much time has passed and though whether FP and WW are the same character seems to just be up to interpretation (and translation) as it's doubtful that they will release anything else that references Wind's Whisper, new lore about both the Elf Queen and Evelyn is still being released, which carefully does not refer to them as the same person.

Most people don't really think there is a difference, but I encourage you to read lore without conflating the two if you're interested in the theory. Hahaha, just kidding I wouldn't wish reading elfkindred lore on anyone. I may make a post later about how much of it retcons itself, both in terms of events and in characters, because it’s been kicking my ass recently.

Noah is the Fantasy Envoy

★★☆☆☆ - it's not impossible but doubtful

I really used to think this one at a point in time. The points in favor of this one include: Concern over Fantasy Envoy's identity (Nikki and Momo seem to recognize him), Noah being a trickster/master of illusions, similar personalities, and sprites drawn using a similar looking face. They also both spent some time in Pigeon Forest, as well as in Lilith (Envoy because he's a traveller, Noah because I guess he was doing things for Cesare). 

However, the fact that Nikki and Momo seem to recognize him isn't actually evidence he is Noah (Bobo would recognize him, which she doesn't). It's actually an easter egg to Nikki 2 - where incidentally one of their friends Polo the detective dressed up as the a mysterious guy called the Fantasy Envoy, who is a guy on Earth too I suppose? 

Anyways, even though this one isn't total nonsense, I don't think this is the route they're going. Noah is an actual character and Envoy is... more and more just an eccentric weirdo. 

===

This is all I have energy to write tonight but I definitely intend to do more in the future. Other ones I have planned include Nikki as Hostess L, Fu Su’s bloodline, and some stuff that’s debunked that I just wanted to mention. If you want me to do any others, send me an ask and I will do my best!

[all1e23]

Swallow [Pt. 7]

Chapter: Convictions and Lies

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: It’s becoming increasingly clear that Bucky will have to choose between his brothers and his girl. Y/n learns a secret. 

Warnings:  Adulty themes. Yes, I’m a grown-up, and I said adulty themes. Heavy Angst (I know. What else is new with series, right?) Sweet Bucky because I still standby that as a warning. 

A/N:   I’m sorry it’s been so long between updates, but tbh this fic takes a lot out of me when I write it – it’s emotionally exhausting to write. Send me love because I’m needy.  No beta Read at your own risk. ;-)

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

You’ve been falling; falling fast and hard, tumbling down into the dark -- the same darkened, treacherous place your head told your heart you would never visit again.

At least that’s what you have been telling yourself the last few years-- an attempt to soothe the ache of losing the other half of your heart. It turned out the dark wasn’t so scary and hidden within the shadows was the promise of something brighter. If you could give enough of your heart and place your trust in the one person, who knew where the light is hidden.

The only source of light your soul has ever needed never failed to be found within James Barnes's heart. No matter the fearsome winds and dark clouds that roll in threatening to steal his warmth, the darkness never comes, and this time would be no different.

Seven days you’ve spent, and the clouds that lingered nearby have yet to change directions even with the powerful winds approaching.

A week of sweet kisses, soft whispers, and delicate touches pointed you towards those dark hidden shadows -- sunlight pierced holes through those dark clouds that loomed just off the coast, and you’ve never felt more at home. As you lay in Bucky’s bed, watching him sleep, your heart was right there to remind you of the promises you made to yourself and how you’ve broken every one from the moment you came home. There wasn’t a part of you that could be moved to care, heart included. The only place you have ever felt at peace was when you were by Bucky’s side. He was the only home your wandering soul knew, and no one could change that.

And while nothing, absolutely nothing, sounded better than spending the day sheltered in Bucky’s arms and basking in the glow radiating from his heart and yours, you needed coffee.

Your bright morning would quickly take a wrong turn onto a dimly lit backroad if you did not find some type of caffeine and fast. Begrudgingly, you tore yourself from his side and grabbed some of the clothes you had stashed around Bucky's room. The real trick was going to be making it downstairs without anyone seeing. Not that you were in any way ashamed or embarrassed by where you spent the last several nights -- scared was a more accurate assessment of your feelings.

Scared to let go and fearful of what would come when you do. Adding people's opinions to that fear would only create a fire you were not prepared to handle.

For now, this was only you and him.

You quietly slipped down the stairs to avoid attention, but the amount of noise you made wouldn’t have made a difference. All eyes were on you the moment you landed at the bottom step. You groaned internally but managed to keep your face blank as you crossed the room towards the only friendly face in the room.

You sat down on the table next to Peggy and asked with a smile, “No one noticed me, right?”

Peggy smirked and handed you what you assumed was her cup of coffee. “Of course not.” She assured you. “No one noticed that you came down at seven-thirty in the morning and had a pair of lace panties stuck to your jeans.”

She winked and pulled the blush-colored lace from your thigh. “Shall I wash it for you?”

You snatched it from her hand and shoved it into your pocket. “Let’s never speak of this again, and thank you for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome,” Peggy added as she stood intent on grabbing herself another cup from the kitchen.

“It looks good on you, darling,” Peggy mentioned, turning back to find your head tilted to the side and confusion written all over your face. You didn’t have anything special on, just jeans and an old Guns N’ Roses t-shirt Bucky had bought you years ago. She playfully rolled her eyes nodding to towards the bird on your wrist -- the one now bared for all to see.

“Settling back into your life. Being home.” She clarified. 

The sound of footsteps making their way downstairs had her grinning, and she promptly made her way to the kitchen. No need to add another pair of eyes to this already delicate situation.

The room full of nosy boys were enough.

Bucky descended the stairs a moment later, only adding to the awkward tension in the air. His was hair tousled from sleep still, his leather unzipped and open to show off the thin white v-neck he was wearing under it. In the middle of his chest sat a small ring hanging from a silver chain. You would know that ring against a thousand others. You doubted anyone would recognize the chain let alone the ring, maybe Steve.

You didn’t know what Steve was paying attention to back then or now, for that matter. By the look of things, no one was the same person they were five years ago -- Bucky more so than the rest.

The leather he was sporting wasn’t new, but the smile on his face certainly was.

Since the night you snuck in, tensions within the clubhouse have shifted, and the focus was no longer on who was breaking whose heart. It made the days a little sweeter and the nights a little longer, not just for the two of you. Bucky’s been smiling on the regular, talking openly and even laughed when Peter made a joke. Sam had been there to ease the kid into a chair when he went pale and queasy.

Naturally, they all wanted to ask what had their vice president so cheery, but no one dared to tease him. There was never a discussion between you, but it had seemed you both agreed not to talk about what was happening. Though you were sure everyone knew you were the reason, it was hard to miss the sun shining through to break up a rain cloud.

Still, avoiding the topic was probably for the best. Clint hadn’t been to the clubhouse since his chat with Steve and hadn’t spoken to you in three days, six hours and twenty-six minutes (Not that you were counting or anything). He couldn't -- wouldn’t accept your decision, and you didn’t know how to repair the rift it caused between you. The last words he uttered to you was a promise that has been replaying in your head ever since. He swore to you that taking Bucky back was a mistake, and if you went down this path, he didn’t know if he would be able to fix things this time. 

You had to trust that in time, Clint would understand. He’s never been able to stay mad at you for long.

Bucky continued by every member that sat, scattered throughout the clubhouse missing countless opportunities to sit near someone else. He could have found a place near Peter or Tony and avoided the one thing the club considered to be a chink in Bucky’s armor -- his defect.

As weak as you made him, you have never been his weakness regardless of what anyone else thinks.

He swung his leg over the chair in front of you, his eyes glued to yours as he lowered himself onto the harsh wooden seat.  He smirked and tilted his head to the side, watching as your eyes frantically searched to see who around you were paying attention.

Everyone was watching with interest. Typical.

You looked back at Bucky to find him grinning, eyes shimmering in delight and you knew he did this on purpose. He was never one to shy away from touching you in public. You knew what it looked like from the outside -- a possessive claim, but the truth was the poor boy has never been able to keep his hands off you.  

He wanted this, and it was okay to admit you did too.   

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You beamed, and your eyes lit up. 

“Hey, Buck.”

“So,” Bucky whispered as his hands landed on the tops of your thighs and casually moved up and down the soft material of your jeans. Getting the hint, you set your coffee down and draped your arms over his shoulders. He stopped at the top of your thighs and gave a gentle squeeze as he spoke again softer this time but still confident. “I was thinkin’ you could bring some of your things over from Clint’s.”

“Buck.” You scold, gently and slightly amused. You should have expected it really. Bucky didn’t know what slow meant when it came to you.

“Remember we are taking things slow so we can figure out how to be with each other again and you are not going to punch someone for talking to me.” You reminded, and he grinned.

“Baby...” Bucky’s voice trailed off as his hands tightened on your thighs and he carefully pulled you off the table where you fell into his waiting lap. A soft squeak fell from your lips, and he quickly swallowed it with a chaste kiss.

It only lasted a second, but it had your head spinning.

“I’ve had you spread out in my bed the last six nights in a row,” He said, raspy and quiet, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke, “You haven’t been home since and I know you got things stashed in around. What’s the difference if you have some clothes in my closet?"

Everything he was saying was right, and in some part of your brain, it made sense but, what happened when you let go? Your heart wasn't ready to find out.

“If you think I’m living in this filthy ass clubhouse you aren’t very smart.” You sassed, covering fear with a sassy quip worked for your brother it could work for you. Too bad the man you were trying fool knows every inch of your skin and every beat of your heart. Bucky could see right through you.

“Okay, let’s get a house,” Bucky conceded, pulling back just enough to clear the haze your lips filled his head with. “I can go anywhere as long as you’re there with me, baby doll. There isn’t much I need to get by. Just one important thing.”

You ignored the thudding that was sounded from your chest and wrapped your fingers around the chain slowly twirling the glimmering silver around your hand. You gave it a gentle tug until your noses were nearly bumping and inquired. “You take things that aren’t yours now? Should I add thief to your resume?”

“Outlaws don’t have resumes darlin’.” He grinned.

A large hand splayed on your lower back pushed you further into his lap, and bucky quickly cleared up why it’s still hanging from his neck. “The woman I love left it behind. I’ve just been keeping it safe until she’s ready to carry the weight of it again.”

Oh.

“What if she can’t carry the weight of it?” You whispered, tightening your hold on the chain to the point it was beginning to tear at your skin. “What if the club and everything this ring stands for can’t coexist?”

Bucky bumped his nose against yours, and his eyes flicked up from the chain between you to meet your eyes. He felt stupid for not seeing that coming, but the answer was so simple he thought you would have figured it out by now. Bucky’s had five years to live with the consequences of not choosing you, and it’s not a pain he’s willing to shoulder again.

“I can live without a lot of things, but you are not one of them,” Bucky said gently and with firm conviction. “I learned that the hard way and, I can promise you, it’s the only thing I know for certain. There is nothing that could keep me from choosing you, and if I have to, I’ll burn it all down for you.”

Burn it all down, for you.

Nearly six years it’s been, and those words were like a sweet prayer you never thought you would hear. You knew the look Bucky was wearing, the determination and sincerity in eyes gave life to his words in a way that left you aching to believe him.

Deep down, you both knew it wouldn’t be that easy though, regardless of who was burning, you both would get caught in the flames.

Steve cleared his throat, dousing the kindling between you in cold water, smothering your bright morning in a toxic cloud of smoke and ash. Just like always, the perfect reminder that the club would always be there to steal him with such ease, it left you feeling silly and naive for having ever having hope.

Bucky peered over your shoulder at Steve and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll be done in an hour. Hang around, please?” Your arms tightened around his waist, and he sighed. “We can go to lunch when I’m done and talk. I’m not going to hide anything from you, but I gotta go in there baby doll.”

Your arms slowly fell from his side, and you did your best to shimmy out of his lap without falling -- your trembling legs were no help. Bucky rose to his feet and zipped his leather concealing his heart and your ring, not that there was much of a difference between the two.  A light kiss was placed to your temple, and heavy boots echoed through the barroom ending with the rattling slam of the wooden doors that separated you.

--------

The dread that came with being behind these doors made Bucky sick. The heaviness of the gavel never left his hand even after he passed it on to Steve, and now that you were back in his arms, it only made him yearn to be free of it all. Every bullshit meeting, every idiotic rule, and every painful decision that pushed him further away from the man he wanted to be -- the man he was when he was with you.

The club would be alright without him when the time came, or it would come crashing down. Bucky wanted to care, but he didn’t. He only needed to get the club through this bullshit with Red Skulls, and he was gone, whether Steve let him go or not.

Several grumbled voices rang throughout the room as Steve’s gavel came down. Bucky was uneasy, and the meeting hadn’t begun, you didn’t want him sitting at the table, and he honestly didn’t want to be there. None of this shit has mattered for years, and it didn’t hold a candle next to you. He’d much rather be tangled up in you with his head buried between your thighs drawing out those sweet whimpers that drive him crazy than listening to their next mistake.

“Where is Barton, and how come his sister is walking around like she owns the damn place?” An annoyed voice griped from the back of the room, Bucky wasn’t sure who said it, but they were about to regret ever opening their damn mouth. He sat up, and Sam’s hand was on his chest shoving him back into his seat before anyone could take notice -- Steve noticed of course.

Punk never does miss anything.

“Clint is dealing with some family shit that isn’t anyone’s business and as for Y/n,” Steve glanced at Bucky, waiting for the okay before continuing. “She’s your VP’s old lady, so watch your damn mouth and show her the same respect you give Peggy.”

Everyone's head jerked over to Bucky who didn’t say a word, just gave a slight nod to the room and turned to face Steve. He wasn’t talking about you or whatever was happening between the two of you in this room. Ever again. His relationship was not club business any longer.

“Right,” Steve said, club president demeanor in place. “Now that all of that is out in the open, can we focus on club business? Red Skulls are dipping their hands into things I can’t let slide -- selling guns to kids and trading their girls for weapons and information on their enemies. Primarily us and our families. This has been a long time coming. They have threatened everyone sitting at this table, and it’s time we take them down before they hurt anyone else.”

“Agreed?” Steve looked around at a room of nodding heads -- everyone but Bucky. Didn’t matter anyway, when Steve called for a vote it was simple numbers, and Bucky was the odd man out.

“On to our bigger issue,” Bucky frowned and finally looked over at Steve.

Bigger issues? What the hell is more significant than taking down another club?

“We’ve got a rat within our ranks, or that's the way it looks at least."

--------

The girls were great, and you loved Peggy, truly did, but you couldn't sit idly by in the clubhouse while they voted on your life and Buckys. Yeah, you didn’t know what the vote was, but there was always a vote. It may not be directly tied to you, but every choice they made in that room affected every aspect of your lives.

Peggy was wrapped up talking to Pepper; you took your chance and snuck out the backdoor to get some air. You briefly thought about waiting on Bucky’s bike, so he knew where you were but decided against it. It would just make it easier for the girls to find you and, you needed a break. So, you snuck off to hide in your jeep.

Bucky would find you. He always finds you.

"Hey, pretty girl." 

That wasn’t Bucky. 

Your entire body stiffened at the sound of another man's voice saying those words to you. That was Bucky's and Bucky's alone. It felt dirty coming from someone else, and you really didn’t like the way Eddie Brock said it.

"Eddie. How are you?" You greeted and let him ramble on about while you subtly kept your eyes on the clubhouse. Eddie knew what he was doing. No one just showed up there without an invitation and certainly not someone who was kicked out by the club’s vice president.

"Y/n?" You blinked and refocused on Eddie.

"You okay?" He asked with such concern you almost believed he cared.

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry." You cleared your throat and gestured back to the clubhouse. "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend. You know the one. He broke your nose and kicked you out?”

Eddie placed his hand on Jeep, caging you between his arms, and you suppressed a shiver that was threatening to reveal your fear. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure. Eddie bent forward and whispered in your ear, "You shouldn't get involved with this club, Y/n. You don't know what they are capable of. Especially your boyfriend."

You huffed a humorless laugh and shook your head. He’s got a lot of nerve, you’d give him that. Here he was telling you what your Bucky was like? He couldn't imagine the things you knew, and he had no idea what your boyfriend was capable of, but he was about to find out precisely what your boyfriend was like.

Eddie was walking a trembling tightrope that was about to snap under him.

"I know exactly what he is and if I were you, I wouldn’t be here when those doors open, or Bucky will be the least of your problems.”

Try fifteen angry bikers. That was never a pleasant sight.

"Lemme take a guess why you're out here all alone, waiting for him to put you first? He had to rush off because Steve summoned him. Trouble with the club and left you here, alone, to handle business? You deserve better than this life.” Eddie slipped a small white card in your hand and stepped back from you.

"Do you really know him, Y/n? Think about it and give me a call when you’re ready to talk.”

You watched Eddie slink off fiddling with the piece of paper in your trembling hands waiting until he was out of sight to look at whatever he handed you. You unfolded the paper he gave you and tour stomach sank when you read it. Eddie Brock was a detective.

Eddie was never trying to patch in -- he had no interest in joining the club, his only interest was bringing it down, and from the looks of things, he was going to use you to do it.

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