#i know all these facts about your stupid presidents and yet not ONE of you could tell me what happened in the engadine maccas

[ehlnofay]

all love and joy to all my darling american internet friends and mutuals etc etc but if I ever have to learn another thing about us news ever again I think I'm going to blow something up

[automaticheartcrusade]

What I like about Charles Coven is the “there’s only one thing I value more than treasure, my own life”- line. Because this is telling us that he’s not your typical greedy money hungry man who gets off to the thrills and will say “fuck all” just cause he’s in power, he’s actually smart and won’t make a dumb decision that’ll threaten his life. I know we haven’t seen much of him yet, but I can’t help but like that about him since most mean powerful greedy character archetypes in media are so reckless. And here’s the thing, Charles should honestly be a boring character since the spooky rich man trope isn’t anything special, (I mean come on, his motivation is wanting all the money in the world), but that one line of dialogue adds something interesting to him. He seems like the kind of guy to play his cards right and not do anything stupid. If he has to accept defeat and step down, he will, as seen at the end of Yellow Jacket, where he could have easily told one of his men to fire at Ethan, but chose not to, like…even if it’s just for the plot, it’s a character decision that makes sense.

On top of that, Charles is just so fucking intimidating man, because he’s well acted and well written. What makes him terrifying is his calm demeanor. He never yells or overreacts and that’s why he’s scary, cause instead of yelling at you, he’ll calmly threaten you with a wide smile. He mostly talks in this friendly manor, but in a passive aggressive way, and he’ll only appear as nice to lure you in and get what he wants from you. Literally the “welp! You’ll never see him again! :P” is the best scene. And I absolutely love it when villains are written like this. They aren’t shying away that he’s a bad guy, but they’re also not hitting you on the head with him. He’s not like Hidgens or Linda where he’s this unhinged and loud person, he’s not even like Wilbur Cross despite people comparing them. He’s just….Charles, a man you should fear and not trust at all, cause he is only using your for his own personal gain. I mean this guy literally has the power to THREATEN the president of the United States and get away with it. And the fact that he flat out told Bill that he wants everyone under his foot, how outward he is about his power hungry ways but can keep his job as head of CCRP is terrifying. And the fact that he’s after Lex and Hannah is terrifying. HE’S JUST TERRIFYING BUT ALSO A SILLY BEAN AND I LOVE HIM.

[luc1dvisual]

eat that girl for lunch - college!au giselle x reader

synopsis: your dancing on her tongue, your might be the one

pairing: aeri uchinaga x reader (use of her real name, non-idol au)

genre: wlw, 18+ (pairing is over 18), studentxstudent, delinquentxnerd

word count: 2.4k+

You were the Student Council President at School of Performing Arts in Seoul. You are loved for your kind attitude and your need to do right by others. You were in the Practical Music Department and are the top of your class, leaving many both envious and in awe by you. On the surface, you don’t seem to dislike anyone, in truth you didn’t hate anyone but one girl.

Aeri Uchinaga was also a student at the School of Performing Arts but she was very different to you in many ways. She may have also been in the same department but she was not known of her stellar grades or good attitude. She was known to be a bit of a ...player. She was known to mess around with both genders and many have started rumors that she pays girls to sleep with her and that she hurts girls for her own pleasure. Some go as far to say she even works as a sex worker on the side despite her family being loaded. 

You hated everything about Aeri. You wholeheartedly believed her to be a slut and that she would fuck anything with a pulse. Aeri disliked you for acting all stuck-up and your stupid high-pitched voice. You would sit at the main table at the centre of the gardens under the sun, next to the water fountain as you would turn and see Aeri sitting alone under a tree. Due to these rumors, Aeri didn’t have many friends and she would never speak more than 5 words in class. In truth, none of the rumors were even true, she was just very introverted and didn’t like talking to people as she didn’t know what to do or how to keep the conversation going.

It’s a normal school day and it is second break as Aeri sits under a tree with her head phones in and her eyes closed. You look over at Aeri and your usual hatred bubbles up. You can’t stand the fact a girl like her could just walk around freely without any consequences. A idea then forms inside your head and you storm over. You call out Aeri’s name a few times which get no response as the other girl’s music is on full volume. She then stomps on Aeri’s foot which makes the ravenette’s eyes shoot open and take her head phones out. “Can I help you?” she says, clearly tired.

“Why do you do the things you do? Random but I can’t help but ask” You say in your fakest tone possible. Aeri feels the uneasy air around her and she knows her answer to this question will determine the course of their conversation. “I’m sorry.. I don’t understand what you mean?” she says, clearly confused. “You don’t have to air out your sex life for all the school to hear.. that’s what I mean!” You say in the same fake tone yet your intention was clear from the start. “I don’t know what your talking about, I don’t do that in the first place.” Aeri was confused at first but now she was a bit offended. “Oh now you want to act dumb? The entire school knows that your a whore, stop lying!” You think the other girl is just playing dumb to get out of it. You knew you needed to confront her, you won the council elections so you could do whatever you wantl. Right?

Aeri knew to a certain degree about all the rumors but nobody said anything to her. It’s not as if they had the right, so who does this girl think she is talking to her this way? “Who the fuck even are you? What makes you think you have the right to talk to me like this?” She says trying to keep her cool yet clearly irritated. “_____, student council president, school’s top student” You confidently say, as if she was waiting for the question. She says the last part specifically to get on Aeri’s nerves, assuming her grades to be slipping, as everytime you saw her, she had her headphones in and was off daydreaming. “More like School’s Pain in the Ass” Aeri mutters off as she gets up, finally now noticing how short the other girl is compared to her. Your ears perked up at the jab “Pardon? Do you want to repeat that?” You said annoyed, yet knowing your position gave you the upper hand. “I said.. your a pain in the ass.. now piss off” Aeri storms off, she did not have the time for this.

You were not done, you grabbed Aeri’s arm. “You shouldn’t even be here! You should be in a whorehouse, and I’ll make sure you go right there!” you said, raising your voice a bit. Aeri wanted to lose her shit, but she acted surprisingly calm when a idea popped into her head now “Fine” she said coldly. Your face was filled with confusion as you didn’t expect it to be THAT easy “Fine? What?” she inquired. “Fine. I’ll go to a whorehouse…” the black-haired girl said. You looked at her visibly confused yet waiting for something more, there had to be something more. “…if you win a bet.” Aeri finished with a smile. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes “What are the terms?” 

You said, annoyed by how unserious the other girl was to the claims yet intrigued by what she was going to propose. “I’ll drop out and go to the red light district.. if you come first during the next exam” You genuinely thought she was joking until you saw on her face how serious she was. Aeri’s face then turned sinister “But.. if I come first, you have to open your legs for me” Your face went pale at this and considered forgetting it all together. But no.. she needed to come first and keep everyone else safe from Aeri. You nodded and quietly said “Deal” before walking away.

Days went by and whispers about such a bet swirling around the school, many wanting to make their own assumptions about such a deal. Of course as people do, they exaggerate the story or add their own silver lining that would make more people interested. A week in and when it reached your ears, the story sounded absurd and almost convinced you that you never even talked to Aeri. Obviously, it was not true but this further convinced you that you could not lose this bet. You were convinced you did not even need to study and that you would do perfectly fine, telling yourself that you were just pure talent and you did not need to overwork yourself. Instead of studying, you partied and only worked to fufill your Student President duties. Many remained excited for the next evaluation, excited to see you crumble and for Aeri to live up to her infamous reputation.

The end of year came and all dashed over to the ranking board. Your heart dropped when Aeri ended up on top and you came second. You could feel everyone staring at you, whispering in satisfaction about you not ending up on top once. You are trying to get out the crowd of girls but it’s almost suffocating. You turn your head to see Aeri with a surprised expression on her face 

You and Aeri walked into the hotel room together, tension in the air. You lost the bet by 2 points, you didn’t even realise how intelligent Aeri was until she saw the board. This pissed you off as not only were you ranked down to number two, but also because it showed how sneaky the other girl was. You was convinced Aeri started the rumors about herself for attention and only hated her more for it. She certainly seemed quite pleased with herself when she shut the door and pinned you to the wall with a smirk. The taller girl had a height advantage over you and looked down at you , hands to each side of your head. You looked up with a annoyed stare, internally beating yourself up over losing. You were snapped out your thoughts when Aeri kissed you and couldn’t help but melt into the kiss.

They kissed there for about a minute or so before you were picked up, automatically wrapping your legs around Aeri’s waist as you were carried to the bed. You were placed gently on the bed surprisingly and you two kept kissing, fighting for dominance. Clashes of teeth and tongue ensued and Aeri got the upper hand due to your inexperience. Aeri takes off the other girl’s sweater and unbuttons her shirt. She was about to go for the your skirt before her hand was grabbed “You first” you said bluntly, mainly out of embarrassment of being half naked. Aeri sighs as she shrugs off her jacket and unbutton her own shirt, not fully taking it off but unbuttoning most of the buttons. You looked up at the pretty sight and really tried not your best to look down but you eventually did which made Aeri laugh quietly.

“Enjoying the view?” She said softly teasing. Your face went red with annoyance and strangely.. also arousal. You turn your head away which makes Aeri hold back her laughter again. She decides to get attention someway so she takes off the brunette’s shoes and stockings. She takes off your skirt and protection shorts, revealing your underwear. Jimin starts to kiss up the exposed side of your neck and whispering “Babe.. look at me..” she initially whispers softly but got no reaction from you. She then decides to start lazily rubbing her finger your clothed clit.

Aeri watches your face any sign of pleasure and laughs quietly at the sight in front of her. You shut your eyes and clamped a hand over your own mouth, remaining the same even when Aeri was feeling the wet patch in your underwear. “Look at me” she whispered quietly that gained no response. With this, she knew she had to try harder which made her act on impulse and slap your ass, which finally gained a reaction. “Ah!-” a startled moan finally escaped your mouth despite her action in protest to the pleasure. Aeri at this point was hot and bothered by how long one fucking moan took, making her urges take control of her for a minute and grasp the smaller girl’s throat by force. Your face clearly distressed, tried to gasp for air but the noises that did escape almost emulated a bird’s chirp. You squirmed in the older’s girls grasp yet felt.. hot for some reason. “Your really fucking bipolar you know that? You want to agree to a bet with me yet you want to be stubborn and not take your punishment well?” Your eyes were still adverted due to embarrassment at this, she did start all of this yet she does not want to just take it as she was so sure she would be on top, she never messes up. “S-sorry.. keep going..” she hesitantly opens her legs. She’s never been with anyone, let alone a girl so she was pretty nervous. At this, a idea popped into Aeri’s head as a form of punishment.

She took your bra and underwear off, making you completely bare under her. She took a minute to admire your body — she wanted to do this for a few months now and the opportunity just presented itself without her asking for it. She saw how shy you got at the intimacy and she enjoyed the pouty expression on your face — it just made Aeri want to fuck you more. She played with your breasts and teased your nipples, enjoying the whines and occasional whimpers that escaped you. She took it a step further and started licking and sucking hickeys on your breasts. Aeri loved marking girls in general, especially the pale ones as the marks were more evident. 

She looked down with a smirk to see how wet you were getting and how you thrusted up for some friction which was unsuccessful. You tried to form words which you could start then would turn into a whine. Your legs shaked which indicated you were about to cum which is when Jimin removed her hand and mouth off her tits. You let out a noise and said confused “Aeri.. what..” Aeri stroked your hair and said “You weren’t supposed to, that was a punishment.” You kept a pouty expression and crossed arms which made the other girl melt “Fine.. do you want your reward?”. Your eyes lighted up at this as you nodded frantically “Please unnie.. I’ll be good..”

The room is filled with your high-pitched moans as Aeri slips her tongue you. She keeps a tight grip on your ass, one hand on each side, tight enough to leave bruises. Aeri;s tongue plays with the other girl’s g-spot as you thrust upwards into the other girl’s mouth. Aeri starts sucking and you manage to grab a handful of the other girl’s hair as you hold Aeri’s mouth in one spot, right on the place you like it most. Her tongue goes even faster which makes your hips buckle and your moans get louder. You finally cum in Aeri’s mouth and fall onto the bed. The ravenette finally looks up at the brunette after swallowing it all, wiping her mouth and laying next to her. 

There is about 30 seconds of blissful silence before Aeri finally says “Did I live up to all your fantasies?” she says with a smirk. Your face goes red and get embarrassed “Shut up!” which makes you flip on your side, forgetting for a second you were bare naked. You peaks your head back around to see Aeri checking her out, making you let out a cute yet annoyed noise “Turn around you perv!”. The taller girl grabs a blanket and drapes it over them both up to their waists. Aeri then moves over and spoons you , one hand on your waist and the other travelling up to your marked breasts. You shake your head and says “No! Not again!”. Aeri puts her head into the pillow and buries her face in your hair as she inhales the flower-scented shampoo you use. She finally says “Fine.. let’s sleep now”. You would be embarrassed to admit how easily you fell asleep after that but you did sleep very well.. in Aeri’s arms.

note . . .

i originally wrote this as a jimin x reader fic and I was choosing between which one was better. discreet was definitely better written and this sat unfinished in my google docs for a few weeks. i reread it, tweaked it a bit (it's still cringe) and finished the fic for giselle. so if the fic happens to say Jimin anywhere, just lmk so I can change it

navigation: kpop masterlist , aespa masterlist

[catsoupki]

之間的距離 / thebeautyliesinitsbriefness (bakugou x reader)

Summary: like many, Bakugou can only say "I love you" when you're no longer there.

Warnings: angst, yeah, originally wrote this for sanemi but ... oh well! pretend you dont see any plot holes

wc: 1.9k

Katsuki values strength, independence. He has never given crying a mere chance of coexisting in his headspace along with other less trivial affairs because tears don’t bring people back from the Earth. He won’t admit but he values optimism: to see the bright in the dark. Even he himself knew just how bleak of a person he was, a buzzkill and a party-pooper, in Ochako’s words. He wanted his crowd to be vehemently bright, he wanted them to have the ability to force him to see, and recognize the remaining half cup of water. 

You wince again, wound sterilisation was definitely your least favourite part about being a hero, nobody cared to warn you about this side of the job. The dabs on the open cut were quite aggressive, but you paid them no mind, not expecting any less from the second hero of Japan. 

Katsuki’s least favourite part to being a hero was needing to aid his comrades in wound irrigation. Nobody mentioned anything about going on missions together, much less taking care of each other. 

‘Tch, shut up, you can behead villains while looking into their eyes but not withstand ten seconds of stinging?’ 

You laughed, once again not taking offence to his rather belligerent diction— one of the reasons why you were sent to accompany Bakugou on this mission. Madam President, in good faith, believed in your potential, who also trusted Bakugou in bringing it out. She had also heard enough people talk about the way you were able to work well, or at least, better than others, with the fellow hero, so you were quite literally the only suitable option. 

With the cotton pad holding the gauze in place, your meticulous torture finally wrapped up, your ebullient Thank you! was met with dead air, as Bakugou had long left the room since the second he was done. 

With his back towards you, you can only presume the slight shake of his head to just be collateral of some things along the grumbled lines of ‘Stupid idiot..’

And you weren’t far off either. But, in lieu of cursing you with true malicious intention, he was in fact cursing at himself, for letting you, 'Stupid Idiot', crack his seamless façade of abrasivity:

His eyes widened with panic, what kind of reckless bastard would do that?! You had egregiously jumped in front of a few civilians that were shaken up by the villain you two were facing off. Stuck with fear, they stayed, and caused even more blood to be shredded. 

The sharp talons of the villain cut through your flesh like knives to tofu. The pain was evident on your face, brows crinkled, tears from your eyes threatening to spill. Your hand still gripped the handle of your weapon, making possibly the wisest decision you have made yet, you sliced the villain’s hand right off to prevent it from corroding your bones. 

Collapsing onto the dirt ground with a harsh thud, the civilians wept even harder out of guilt at the sight of your weak and damaged body, but you did so without a breath of complaint, for protecting the lives of idiots was your job. 

The villain, who regrew his hand with the help of his quirk, sat with an arrogant smirk in front of you, shamelessly meandering over your body, practically undressing you with his eyes. He would not know the absolute terror that was about to rain down on him until it was far too late. 

Diabolical beings. 

With an irate grunt, Bakugou switched to an offensive stance. In tandem, the crackling of his palm announced that he was an explosion ticking to blow. He let out a breath, along with all the pent up worry and frustration in him, a new found determination flashes across his countenance, the corners of his lips twitched. The way he held himself was different, filled with courage you had unknowingly given him. Motivation. His smirk was belligerent as always, eyes shining with something that would have made you blush if you were cognitive. 

Katsuki was going to make him pay; that villain would not see another sunrise after this, for protecting you, the utterly most insane and idiotic woman he ever had the pleasure of meeting, was his duty. 

Looking back, even his young and angry and ignorant self had known, long, that he had fallen in love. A mosaic of everything he had ever hated, you were. Yet somehow, you turned out to be something he liked. Loved. He was too young to know what love is, but not too young to know that it’s blood that’s rushing up his cheeks. Not too young to see the curvature of your smile and your nose and your stubborn brows to feel like summer will be forever. Not too young to know that life would be worse if he hadn’t met you. When he is not with you, he’s stifled and awkward and mean and, unable to tell you all of these things.

Everything about you was intoxicating. Bakugou wasn’t the one for mead; any sort of alcohol or drugs, in his opinion, only hindered how well he could do his job. But you, you were a toxin he could not live without. Sans you, he’d rather die. 

He wanted you. He wanted you so badly. Not in a dissolute way, you were too pure of an angel to mar (at least in his eyes).

He wanted you, in the sense that only he would be looked at by you in such a revered manner. And the spot in his heart was reserved for you, and you alone, a throne if you will. He wanted you, to him only. He wanted your eyes, your touch, your stupid rambles, all of it.

He was also a violent person, he knew his rough edges drew blood when people of delicate skin came too close. Skin who has never met slaughter, seen tragedy. Softness that has never come across the unjust of the world, the villainy. 

His legs were close to collapsing. He had lost count however many laps he ran. Sweat dripped along his forehead as he continued on his umpteenth round. He ran, and ran, and the sole purpose was to collapse. Maybe fill his body up with utmost dopamine shots, like he was high or something, so the unending doubtful questions in his mind would leave him alone. ‘Fill your body up with endless endorphins’ he kept chanting, like a mantra. 

Yet, he never knew he could have such gruesome and macabre thoughts when it concerned you. His hero costume was still stained with your blood, from when you laid dying in his arms, eyes glazed over and lips slightly agape, when All for One had stabbed you in the lung with a tendril. He had just lost All Might, he never thought he’d lose you, too. You were strong, you were persistent, a determined little shit who he had never thought would have to meet her end like this. He didn’t worry for you, and frankly it was why he stuck around you, he need not take care of you. Instead of being another burden on his already filled plate, you helped clear his silver platter; he knew if anyone would survive this, it would have been you, or so he thought. 

The tendril that took you from him was the one that was going to take him from you. You selfish minx, was what he grumbled to himself as your breaths got shallower, sounds of ripping fabric growing from soft to more difficult to ignore as your lungs collapsed in on themselves. You were running out of air, and running out of air fast. 

His salty tears left his face blotchy when they rained down on you like salvation. 

He didn’t know what would have been the proper and appropriate attire to show up in. You were only an equal to him, nothing more and nothing less. Neither of you had such time for nonsense when all of you were dedicated to heroics, when your job was keeping the hearts of thousands of civilians beating, pulse alive. 

He looked at the tombstone engraved with your name, your last legacy, until time calls for the moss and fern to come and erode the delicately carved words away. He wanted to grace the piece of rock with his brutally conditioned knuckles until the iron in his dignified blood, dosed with heavy nitroglycerin, left a permanent scar on your rusting heritage, so maybe then he wouldn’t need to question whether he was there or not.

The world is unfair, he has learnt since the ripe age of fourteen. Talented children with potent quirks born within the wealthiest of families will not know the stink of brothels and peril, men are made unequal, some are fed with silver spoons, and some quirkless. He has made peace with that, he thought. But he was wrong. 

He forgave the world when it stripped him of his comrades, his friends. He thought maybe it was the consequences of his wrongdoings in a past life, a lesson to be learnt; but when he lost you, Gods will have to kneel before the man if they ever think he’d forgive them for doing such a deed. 

He was then, once again, stripped of everything. It didn’t matter whether or not it was a punishment or a piece of Karma he rightfully deserved because he knew for a fact you would never be deserving of anything but love. 

Regardless of your past sins, he was sure you would have redeemed yourself with the way you introduced light into his life. You were good. Plainly, simply, and so utterly good. 

His fingertips grasp onto thin air as he cries, his fist cave on his own calloused palm instead of your tombstone. He finally lets his heart rip as he seemingly, for the first time in two months, recognizes that you are dead. 

His wailing won’t bring your battered bones back together from six feet under. His tears of grief will only water your tomb and foster whatever plant that wants to take home on your resting place. 

He lets out a few heartless laughs, at himself mostly— he has yet again ignored the wisdom God tried to bestow him with, such a rookie mistake has costed him you. Loving aloud never came easy to him as it did after death. The goodbyes, the ‘I’m sorry’s and the ‘I love you’ that stayed stuck in his pharynx never got to see the light of day before it was too late. Izuku. And now you as well; but what could he do? He’ll hold hands tighter, look at their faces longer, so he doesn't lose yet another person in his life from his stubborn, stubborn decisions. 

At first, he wanted to rage at you. At last somebody who had their naivety and innocence stolen and robbed away like he had been was allowed to hold his heart; intricate hands that have seen bloodshed, your breath heavy and warm from maroon responsibility. 

But he couldn’t. How could he?

[bloodyminyard]

a (long) comprehensive list of buck related things in 7x04 that have me losing it as i rewatch:

- the stupid starry eyed look he has while getting the tour from tommy

- the terrible “i need mo jo” joke that tommy laughs at purely bc it was endearing

- “you didn’t call me because you wanted to see the toys”

- “you need to raise your bar kid” my GOD the “kid”

- ofc, the “no way!! eddie was in the army!”

- god they are so FLIRTY “really?” “my fees are competitive” “let me buy you a beer no WAY buck is this clueless

- eddie being so excited about the fight, and specifically the idea of buck joining help

- “keeping my options fluid” SIR

- evan?!?!?!????

- the close up shot as the fly off my heart

- the look on bucks face when eddie talks about tommy, boy is devastated

- “i saved a baby in a pipe once!” yes you did were so proud

- not buck related: but i adore ravi so much

- OKAY BUT BUCKS STUTTER !! they way he trips over his words when he’s surprised or nervous or even upset 😭

- “i do. i really do.” MY GOD OH MY GOD FUCK ASHHH AHHH

- and the SIGH after as eddie walks away, the building up the courage to ask more

- THE SAY HIS FACE DROPS WHEN EDDIE ASKS HIM TO WATCH CHRIS OHHH EDMUNDO WHEN I CATCH YOU

- “i keep saying, chris it’s not a video game” “because it’s harder than a video game???” maddie i see you and am so sorry you have to deal with this

- SAME WITH “he’s made an impression in a very short time” “i can see that” LIKE SHE IS SO NOT GONNA BE SURPRISED WHEN BUCK COMES OUT TO HER 😭

- “i don’t think you lie to a child just to ingratiate yourself” bro it’s not that serious i promise

- sorry brb imagining buck asking chris all these questions about tommy and chris going 🤔🤔🤔

- buck being upset that eddie invited tommy to play basketball even though eddie always asks him and he says no bc he doesn’t like it… he’s so me i can’t

- “was there a heart around it?” there might as well been maddie!!!

- peacocking buck we love and hate to see (it’s so embarrassing i have to close my eyes. “maybe we should hoop” sir please stop)

- the pouting OLEASE he’s so

- his smile

- the “evan” throws me off every TIME but also it kindaaaaa

- “what are the odds?” bro chill

- the smile when tommy fists bumps him oh i see you gay boy even if you don’t yet

- “so i’m your basketball beard” brother you don’t even KNOW

- i’m sorry the song that’s playing while they play basketball is “playing with the boys”🤔🤔… the lyrics too “i don’t wanna be obsessed but my desire with the boys” (and YES i am aware it’s a top gun reference, however that movie is also gay is hell and so is this song, moving on)

- tommy cocking his head when buck runs into him like oh my

- poor chim does not deserve to be put in the middle of all of this

- “well you bucked that up didn’t you” :(

- okay this scene between maddie and buck afterwards is actually so important to me, i love their ability to communicate, and how buck openly admits that he doesn’t know if he meant to hurt eddie or not, and that he was angry and lashed out, and maddie’s reaction to it :( “that’s not how you get someone’s attention”

- “i guess i was trying to get his attention” buck is the representative of the “i don’t know why i do the things i do until tons of self reflection after the fact” club, same im the president actually

- i do love that we get to watch him try and figure out why he acts and feels the way he does in real time! even at the end he still doesn’t entirely know until tommy is in his face staring at his lips

- the stutter is back 🫶

- “evan…” STOP THE WAY HE SAYS IT THAT TIME MAKES ME GIGGLE I CANT

- this entire scene drives me crazy btw i can literally pick it apart piece by piece… but the way he smiles throughout it makes my heart go akrjeidjdjsjd

- the chemistry is fucking IMMACULATE btw!! the flirting is so natural and it shows through buck being oblivious about it!! like brother no one stands that close to each other

- buck figuring out how he feels AS he speaks!!! poor boy is trying to catch up as fast as he can

- everything about the “okay” after tommy says “i can teach you”… the smile, the eye squint, the head tilt, like oh my GOD

- the way the tone changes when buck says “good” my GOD, the way his face drops as he comes to the realization that maybe it was about tommy the whole time

- the “cause trying to get your attention has been kinda exhausting” punches me in the gut EVERY TIME I WATCH THIS LIKE FUCK OH MY GOD BUCK LIKES MEN FR? and the way he says it GOD, like i said, he’s literally figuring this out as the words come out of his mouth (“i guess so”)

- okay my ONE nitpick about the kiss scene is that tommy grabs his chin, and then when it cuts it’s the two fingers under the chin, it’s inconsistent and i think i like the chin grab better

- the absolute STUNNED look in bucks eyes after the kiss!!! as the perfect oliver stark put it: he’s found something he’s been missing for a long time

- tommy is so worried in the split second before buck tells him that it was okay

- the wordless nod after tommy asks if it was okay THIS MEANS SO MYCH TO ME

- you can FEEL the sense of relief and wholeness radiating off of buck

- “better than fake mouth static” AKSHSISHS

- his eyes following tommy’s lips as he laughs, and then the brief look down like his whole WORLD has just been turned upside down before tommy speaks again

- i am so fucking here for buck being asked out and being stunned by it

- the stutter again 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

- tommy’s smile as he leaves like tee hee ur kinda cute

- the entire of his expressions at the end. there’s panic, there’s confusion, there’s happiness OLIVER STARK THE MAN THAT YOU ARE !!!!

in conclusion: this is everything i wanted and more, the brain rot is everywhere, i cannot escape this episode

[ultralightpoe]

Masked Martyrs- Finnick Odair

Authors Note: Part seven of the halloween Event! Do enjoy! More hunger games coming soon...

Warnings: talk about prostitution

Word Count: 981

Requests: OPEN

~2024 Halloween Event Masterlist

[Thank you for the gif @down-in-dixie ]

ENJOY!

The lighting in the capitol was always off, and no one seemed to understand you when you said that. In district 7 there was nothing but natural lighting since the electricity often went out and everyone had to work during the day. But it also had some of the best stars, the best view of the stars really, since everyone shared them. But the capitol seemed to hate those stars. 

Or maybe Snow was keeping you from them as some form of punishment. You might have done something wrong. Maybe he didn’t like the way you greeted the ‘guest’ he had sent over the other day. Or maybe you hadn’t smiled enough in that last interview. 

Really he could find any reason to punish you if he wanted to. 

“He’ll see you sulking.” A smooth voice fills the air, and your peace and quiet is immediately shattered by none other than Finnick Odair. “And he’ll-”

“If you don’t mind fish boy,” You begin, not bothering to tear your eyes away from the tech lamps on the wall, wondering how long it had taken to make them. “I’m staring at the stars.”

“Those, lumbergal, are not stars.” He laughs, not seeming to worry about your attitude at all. 

“They are the closest thing I could find.” 

“THERE YOU TWO ARE!” Someone cheers, a clapping sound pulling your attention. As you turn your head to see whoever was approaching you manager to catch Finnicks gaze for a second before spotting the capital's favorite stylist. 

You hadn’t bothered to learn his name, you knew Snow would manage to make him disappear the second he got bored of him. He had gone through 6 since you won your games. 

“I spent far too long on the prizes of the Capitol for them to lurking in the corner. Come come. Immediately. Our brave president has requested you make an appearance.” Before you could move to get up the stylist was turning to meet you where you sat, shoving a gold envelope in your hand before his hands were upon you. 

They roamed to fix up the stupid dress he had made for you, and though you flared with unease you had learned long ago to ignore it.  And though Finnick was in the room you tried to remind yourself that he would know this life as much as you and you shouldn’t have to worry about it. 

And yet his hand came to flick the stylists off of you with ease, a glare set in his eye as you stood up. 

“We’ll be right out.” 

“I was sent to-”

“You gave us the message, we will be out soon.” Finnick snaps before an easy smile breaks out. The stylist wisely chooses not to fight on it, rushing off to find another one of his costumes as you take to fixing it yourself. 

He had made a capitol worthy fairy costume for you, and wearing a dress with this much cleavage made you miss celebrating hallows eve in your district even if there was no food or warmth in the beginning of winter. 

Finnick had been dressed as…. Well you had no clue. 

With blue glittery makeup sitting on his cheekbone and a thin strand of pearls wrapped around his arm. A sheen blue fabric was draped on one shoulder that covered his stomach but not his pecs, and you didn’t even want to keep looking at the pants. 

“A siren.” He mumbles, smiling as he watches you watch him. 

“Fitting.”

“Because I’m a whore.”

“No.” You snap out, throat tight. “Because you were made for water. And the fact that you think I would….. Would ever call you that….”

You shake your head, moving to walk away quickly with that envelope still in your hand. He follows, fixing the back of your dress before fixing your wing and moving to walk alongside you. 

“The envelope if you will. I’d like to get our dear presidents message before you destroy it.” He quickly swipes the envelope from you and tears it open, reading the words. You watch as he tries to smile, as if what he was reading wasn’t bothering him, but you could also see the way his jaw tightens. 

“What does it say?”

“He wants us to meet a client-”

“Together?” You blurt, stopping in your tracks. 

“Yes.”

“But-”

“Do you want to see lanterns?”

“I’m sorry?” You laugh before he reaches for your hand and drags you with him. He leads you through the back tunnels of the capitol building and if you were a better person you might have thought about ways to escape. 

But you were broken and you knew it was a useless plan. 

Not that any of that mattered anyways, because as you followed the ‘siren’ through the halls you could only get excited. For the first time in months you were excited. 

He pushes a thick door open with ease and leads you out for you to realize you had managed to sneak into the gardens where they had lit the pumpkin lanterns. 

“Oh… my…”

They had been decorated with glitter, the same gold glitter that you had been decorated with, and the fires were different colors. 

The warmth of the fires was perfect, like an invisible blanket, and the colors mixed with the gold glitter made it almost magical. 

“How did you know about these?”

“I saw them setting up earlier, which is why I came to find you.” He hums, leaning against the wall as you trace a finger through glitter. 

“And you came to find me?”

“You’re the only person I knew would like it as much as I did.” He smiles and you can’t fight the smile that crosses your own lips. 

“Happy Hallowed Eve, Siren.”

“Happy Hallowed Eve, Fairy.” And for a second, as you peered into his eyes, you could see stars again.

-

[thank you for the gif @starefantasisedroolrepeat ]

[bitchy-peachy]

Ramblings of "I Don't Agree With Your 'Lifestyle' But I Still Want To Be Friends"

The more I don't want to talk to a certain demographic, the more hellbent they seem to be all up in my social spaces.

Are you into humiliation? Are you that desperate to talk to someone that you pick arguments with the other side for social interaction and then have the audacity to ask, "Why can't we be friends?"

Some of Trump's people have a weird way of making friends. You seriously want someone like me, that hates your guts and now sees you as a danger to my life and the lives of others, to be your friend after you voted to hurt people like me? I've been tagged and followed by weird ass blogs that want to act like regular mutuals when they're disgusting cheese puff cultists.

Can't you stick to your fellow pure white christians and leave people like me alone?

You "disagree" with my  existence and are stupid enough to say "Me disagreeing with your entire life doesn't mean I want you dead."

Actually yes it does. You view my personal life and even ethnicity as something sexual and kinky, but yet you vote to make my existence illegal.

I'm a porn trope for insipid boring people raised in echo chambers. An exotic gothic mommy with an accent and weird beliefs that makes me "interesting". I have a lot of friends similar to me in likes and style and we've always noticed the sick fascination these fascist fucks have for us.

We're a novelty. It's sorta like what a friend told me once.

"They love our food on Taco Tuesday but on Wednesday they're calling ICE once they've got the recipe they plan on gentrifying."

These fuckers even lie about who they voted for to get into relationships with us. All the more reason to alienate your asses. You know we don't like you and still want to be there.

You don't have to be included in everything. I've seen some assholes even say that an interracial relationship isn't really interracial if there's no white person involved. You guys really showed us your thirst to be included in everything by how you called Obama, a mixed Black/White man, Black, while saying that Harris, an Indian/Black woman, wasn't really Black.

You even ignored how qualified she was to call her a DEI hire. She was way too good to be your president. I said it. TOO GOOD to be your president.

You completely disregarded the fact she was mixed because she didn't have a white parent, but 2 POC as parents. Your side used whiteness to determine her race.

Okay, I'll leave that there but I get really intense like this as a mixed woman of ambiguous features that gets confused with multiple ethnic groups frequently...

Some of you want to destroy us, view us as pornographic, entertainment and exotic beings like a freaking zoo. Everything we do is somehow done to turn you on and entertain you in your messed up mindset.

(and I'm not attacking all white people with this. I'm only attacking the willfully ignorant af ones that refuse to learn how fucked up they are. I've explained this issue many times before and they still want to fuck up so bad and impose their presence on us as if we're obligated to accept them. Apparently they are the only ones allowed to tell us they don't believe we should exist)

Maga are the type to want to go to a drag queens show to have a good laugh at a performance while... Not seeing the performers as real people with lives beyond your temporary entertainment.

My first spouse was a drag queen. Yes, it's not that big a secret. He was my spouse but worked in drag. I witnessed both sides of a coin during my 6 years of marriage to him.

As a man during the day he was respected and even feared (he was very fit and tall) but as his drag persona, she was beautiful and full of so much charisma that everyone had to simply stop to stare at her... While she was also sexually harassed and touched without permission. Her feminine appearance drew in disgusting people that didn't see her as having a right to her personal space.

Although we had our own set of problems, my ex always fought for women and protecting them because of his own experiences. He had been abused as a child as well by people that want to assault "femininity" since he had been a "pretty child".

One man even stalked my spouse and I had to pick him up from work.

I know people are probably shocked that a drag queen would marry a woman but... We are both bisexuals and found comfort in each other. It didn't matter to us that we were "odd". To us that "oddness" was normal.

The reason why I bring this up is cos the people that harassed my spouse and felt entitled to her body while in her fem appearance where people that were considered pillars of religious communities and it recent times have publicly supported Trump as a "true christian".

See what I'm getting at here. A lot of people on your side have being seeing us as undeserving of our protected physical space. Consent is seen as a dirty word and "woke" to a lot of you.

You're even having a hard time respecting consent when people tell you they don't want you in their lives for voting Trump.

"You like looking at us. Laughing at our jokes, yet if you had a chance you'd lie about us and want us dead."

You want them to entertain you but call them "groomers" and child molesters.

I've got a friend of mine that's gay and the amount of shitty braindead right wing comments he gets of, "I don't agree with your "lifestyle choices" but you're funny so I like you as a person-"

Do you fucks even listen to yourselves? I bet you think it's bad to refuse service to a christian nationalist but go outta your way to justify spitting on a potential customer for being lgbt+.

I've always played around with the idea of using my "beliefs" to completely scorn your ilk. I can say, "I don't hate you even though I disagree with your lifestyle choices," whenever religion or politics come up.

A lot of you think only your religion and beliefs are the ones to be respected. I'm a bruja in my community. Half of my family is. It's part of our culture and there's christians wanting to be friends with the "spooky bitches" that would be burned at the stake or forced into their colonizing religion if they had their way.

Last time I went to a wedding of two of my fave besties some straight guy that was invited made disgusting jokes about joining them in their honeymoon for "real sex". He was drunk, duh, but he went further by obnoxiously saying he was "living every man's dream" by being in a lesbian wedding.

He used alcohol as an excuse and even cried when getting kicked out... But a drunken man's ramblings are a sober man's truth.

Umm, lesbians are not interested in your dicks. They want other women. They're not doing this for your entertainment. This is why I say... We can never be friends with people like you that see our lives as something to get off on. You don't even see us as human and these election results further cements that along with the fact that you can't seem to respect boundaries set by others.

As soon as someone says they don't want Trumpers in their blog for literally voting to fuck up their rights to live peacefully ... A Trumper interacts starting a boohoo argument.

If they don't want you, they don't want you. You don't have to be included in everything, especially when you voted to exclude people like us . You've clearly drawn a divisive line in the sand with your vote and seem to be refusing to see how you utterly fucked up.

Even disabilities are fetishized and seen as insignificant ffs. Like "I get off on this but I think you don't deserve ACA for this disability I sexualized".

These things are what has made me realize that we don't have to accept you. In fact I find it annoying that people assume that we have to be "tolerant" when we should have been far from tolerant. Your side has been the ones that have voted for years to strip us of rights to even our money. Yes, social security, that we paid for, is getting cut cos republicans are such assholes that see the money we earned as a privilege.

It isn't just people like me that are in danger due to others voting without doing proper research. If you planned retirement, you'll have to wait till your 70s now, ACA and Obamacare are the same thing and the amount of people blindly celebrating getting rid of "Obamacare" while keeping "ACA" is sad. My neighbors fell for it and voted Trump. One of them has cancer. They're white and old, but have cancer and voted Trump. I heard the wife literally crying for awhile after another neighbor told her exactly what she voted for.

Her treatment... She voted against it. Their kids don't want them cos of how hateful they are and these people are gonna lose all medical aid and get their SS cheques cut.

All because they voted stupidly. Wanting cheaper groceries and "hurting the woke agenda" really has you getting FAFO.

But this isn't our lesson to learn. Its your lesson to learn. It frankly pisses me off that we're dragged along for the ride of your own karmic fuck up. We knew what was at stake while you didn't even bother yourself to think of the repercussions coming from your votes.

This is is no longer a difference of opinion but proof to show how selfish and with fake morals you truly are.

This is why we can't be friends. This is why we don't want to be friends.

Us distancing ourselves is about as much respect as we will show cos it's obvious you hate us so much you'll hurt yourself for it.

I need to stop posting essays, lol. But I hope someone that isn't offended easily but is willing to learn can finally see the whole picture and understand why we're feeling this way. I would consider making a series to show our perspective and to educate the already present ignorant stereotypes but I couldn't be assed to do it.

I mainly write for my own selfish reasons. To vent my inner thoughts and find others like me so we can build community among our peers.

If you attack my post, I don't care. I said my piece. If you want a proper conversation because you really want to understand... I don't know if I have the patience for it but I'm sure you'll find someone else that will...

Going back to my horror marathons.

[tenderlywicked]

Tell us about your dr who fic!

Happy Now is almost finished! By which I mean there are still two or three chapters left :) It’s about the retired Fourteenth Doctor unexpectedly meeting a younger version of the Master. As it’s always with me, there’s a lot of angst and hurt/comfort. As it’s always with these two, there’s a lot of miscommunication :)

Summary: The Doctor can finally have a peaceful, happy life … except of course he won’t be able to stay away and leave the Master in UNIT’s clutches for long, even if it only bodes trouble. When he finds the way to reverse the Master’s transformation, he’ll get the version of his arch-friend he’s been least expecting.

As for the Master, he’ll have a hard time figuring out what the Doctor might want in return for his help. There must be something, right? There’s always a catch.

And that's how it starts...

Whoever thinks being shrunk into a tooth and then reacquiring your usual size is anything but agony—they are very welcome to try it themselves. The Master whimpers, not quite lucid enough yet to be embarrassed about the pathetic sound he makes. With it, comes a vague awareness that his vocal cords are, in fact, working, and it can only mean one thing: he does have a body again. Which is both good news and bad news. The latter because everything fucking hurts, hurts, hurts. It feels just as bad as when he’d accidentally tested his Tissue Compression Eliminator on himself.

“Are you all right?” a voice comes from somewhere close, as familiar as the hopeful stupidity of the question.

The Master would have snapped because no, he obviously isn’t all right, but there’s a giddy thought muffling his irritation: He found you, he came for you. To be honest, he hadn’t expected that. Had stopped himself from hoping.

“Doctor,” he croaks out.

He blinks, tries to focus, his vision blurry. The face he knows all too well comes into view … and he has to blink again because—what? The Doctor looks much older than during the clash with Rassilon when the Master has last seen him. How much time might have passed?

“Can you move?” the Doctor asks urgently.

That’s a valid question, better than the previous one. He isn’t sure. It’s as if his muscles, tendons, and even bones have been stretched on a rack. He tries to rise up and fails at both accomplishing this feat and suppressing a groan. Stubbornly, he makes another attempt and finds that he’s lying on the floor in the Doctor’s arms, just like that time when he’d got shot on the Valiant. With the exception that he’s naked. He doesn’t have the strength to be mortified about it either, or even to make a joke of it.

“It’d be easier to get us out of here if you could,” the Doctor says almost apologetically.

“Where are we?”

“UNIT headquarters. At first, I thought it would be better to carry you out…uh…the way you were, compressed, so to speak, but they’ve got a lot of empty labs here, and necessary equipment. A cylinder with Numismaton gas and other stuff… So it seemed like a good idea to do the reversal here. Anyhow, now we need to sneak out, and it might be a bit of a problem. I mean—your face. I mean—even the erased year aside, you still got yourself quite famous down here, assassinating the US president. Hard to forget such a Prime Minister.”

“Stop yapping,” the Master orders. Maybe it comes out more like a plea. He’s dizzy and still not quite in control of his body; too many words—they barely sink in. But ‘UNIT headquarters’ sounds bad enough. Not that the Master is going to complain about being resurrected as such, but couldn’t the Doctor find a suitable lab anywhere else?

[shoppinghauer]

My main issues with online feminism, which includes hispanic instagram (LatAm and Spain) and tumblr anglosphere (think Europe + USA sometimes Australia) are:

They think of non single women (married or with a bf) as the primary pick me in society. I dont doubt a lot of them priorize their man but also, the way feminist depict them as "brainwashed" is just childish. My main problem is that obscures the fact that you can priorize men even if you're not in a romantic relationship with them. Boymoms, male relatives such as brothers or fathers are constantly excused or justified just as much as romantic partners. Yet Ive barely see criticism against this. Whats more is that mothers are excused as if the pressure of maternity excuses throwing under the bus your own daughter (why is never the other way around?? Fucking over your son bc of your daughter). Even women have justified horrendous actions made by their male friends (trans or gay) in cases where there is no attraction involved. Just social leveraging.

Speaking of attraction. The way they talk about assault as being a result lf violent sexual desire aka pretth privilege doesnt exist because hot women are more attacked. This is by far the most imbecile of all takes. Assault and sexual violence are a result of control and domination, not attraction. The more vulnerable a woman is, the likelier she will be assaulted. This includes older women, girls, runaways, homeless, sick, disabled, immigrants, addicts and poor women. This has nothing to do with how you look and everything to do with how much will men get away with assaulting you. The fact ive read "are you saying elderly or poor women arent attractive" when talking about assault is proof that even among so called feminists, the idea that sexual violence stems from attraction is still ingrained. Stop it for the sake of god.

I know fish can't see water but american feminists really really ignore how much of their culture affects misogyny worldwide. The impact of the american worldview on misogyny is not little stuff. The consumerist, hollywoodesque point of view is native to the USA. American feminists call this "liberal feminism" to distance themselves from what is just plain american misogyny. This shitshow of "eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man" is a product of the american perspective of making everything a marketing campaing. This goes back to Max Revlon, Edward Bernays and other PR gurus who knew that the best way to make profit was to market everything. American feminists are limiting their analysis by thinking this is a matter of contradictory branches of feminism (lib vs rad) and not a matter of americanized misogyny. Lets remember radfem stems from marxism, the actual one not the tumblr version.

The way how no one actually read books but everyone wants to say something smart. From "capitalism of words" to "you can escape from labor exploitation by being a tradwife " everyone loves to post half assed essays who say stupid shit or not saying anything at all. Ive been accused of being a russian psyop, an spanish white woman with guilt, or even wishing rape on another woman just for stating sociology 101 points. Basic knowledge of marxism is a must if you call yourself a feminist. Im sorry but how else are you gonna understand women's oppression today (in a capitalist system) if you think tankies are psyops. Gimme a break, some of you are worse than breadtubers.

The lack of interest in women's news around the world. Basically if it isnt a major tragedy in Europe or USA or a fucked story about the Middle East (which for the majority, those countries are interchangeable, see: "if she's from Algeria why isnt she in a hijab" even tho Algeria is in Africa but whatever), no one cares about women. The North American continent got its first female president, Claudia Sheinbaum, and everybody in here was busy whining about a stupid pop princess poll bc a nobody TIM got the upperhand. Cmon. Spanish feminist were more preoccupied about a fat woman announcing New Year's Eve than the historical election of a woman in a hispanic country. And that is just the most egregious example.

If i think of anything else Ill add it but this is my experience as someone who has been on feminist circles for a decade.

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

The sheer audacity of Ava Kris Tyson

The sheer selfishness. Stupidity. Entitled. The Wtf factor.

They're are 2 huge takeaway from this situation that I'll address and be as fair as possible.

1. The underage/pedophile situation

Diabolical. Absolutely diabolical. Underage texting should not be tolerated and the worst thing is that them deleted all tweets that could "be used against them". Is genuinely disturbing, that they were able to get away with this for THAT LONG

And it's clear the the legal system is not going their jobs of oh my goodness it was all public information, and yet it took about 5-10 years of them being around people the same age/younger for people to know.

I was and still am a fan of Mr Beast, because he has done NOTHING WRONG. He was not the one texting minor, engaging with them, so on and so on. Mr. Beast is an INCREDIBLE person and should not be dragged down by the mistake of another even if they're friends/co-worker.

But I can assure you that the trust that he and many other must have had in Ava Kris Tyson is gone.

Obviously theirs a clear difference between liking post and doing the messaging/interacting and they've done both.

It's an upset to the fans, his younger audience, ALL participants, Mr Beast crew, Mr Beast himself and his (now ex) wife as well as their CHILD

This should be yet another testament to the fact that both minors/people of the Internet are not being well protected by the social media platform they're using and it shows. It also shows the lack of actual action from.. Oh ya know... THE FUCKING POLICE, like in the UK (where I'm from) if they know about something, even just a little bit, you're on a list. No questions asked. They'll come to your home, take your information and you may be on a list until they catch the person.

I don't know what the policing is like in America but it doesn't look good.

Overall. Bad situation.

2. Transgender rights.

In the words of many (and accurately) they just set the community back 10 years. They're JK Rowling's wet dream. They're every conservative example A argument when it comes to trans rights. The absolute SELFISHNESS of this individual is jaw-dropping.

They've now set the president of "trans people could be pedophile" in the worst way possible. And what makes it worse is that the media tends to use key identificating factors, such as "black individual" or "British person".

So on every headline about Ava Kris Tyson it will all point finger to transgendered people. Sparking more debates about there rights.

I am fearfully for the Americans because Trumps presidential landslide is going to come due to recent situations and I will not be surprised if you use this as example a b c d e f n g as to why transgender people shouldn't have right. Why LGBTQIA+ people are criminals.

It's horrible. Humiliating.

And to be clear you can be upset about BOTH THINGS

A person being upset about the damage to transgendered rights is not saying that pedophile is good, because that's a whole new sentence. A whole new thing. A whole new post. A whole new argument.

But to conclude. Don't message or ask for nudes online EVER especially if you don't know the person. And do not let the actions of another take you down.

Edit: grammar/spelling (hopefully fixed lol) plus now fuck Mr. Beast, my guy just doomed all the charities he's helped.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

Out of curiosity: why do you think Philip hates Alex specifically? (cakegate aside) Do you think he'd just be okay with Henry dating some upper-class English guy?

Why I think he hates Alex

He has no been kind to him once in the book. Also Alex ruined his wedding cake. Not a great first impression.

I don’t think there’s more to it tbh. Alex hasn’t been kind to him either, and Philip sees Alex being so “open” with the public, having fun with it, his public persona completely different to their (Philip, Bea, and Henry’s) public persona, and just being the compete opposite to what monarchy considers proper, so he doesn’t like him, let alone want him dating Henry.

Answering your second question,

I think it’s not based on Alex not being an upper-class English guy, but more based on how Alex is as a person, as in his personality. And also the fact than he’s the son of the president of the states.

“I don’t care if you’re gay,” Philip says, dropping that big fat if like Henry hasn’t already specifically told him. “I care that you’ve made this choice, with him”—he cuts his eyes sharply to Alex as if he finally exists in the same room as this conversation—“someone with a fucking target on his back, to be so stupid and naive and selfish as to think it wouldn’t completely fuck us all.”

Alex is, since the start of the book, very different to Henry. Interests and family aside, Alex kind of enjoys being in the public eye. At least at the start of the book. He likes being in front of a crowd, make them scream. Is true than Alex is probably the most private one out of the White House trio, but just because he doesn’t share his private life to the public, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t get along with them. One of the first scenes of him we have is him talking about how he and Nora like creating rumours and being in magazines and all.

I have a point I swear, just wait.

Monarchy (Philip, Henry, Bea), is the complete opposite to this. They stay out of directly interacting with the public, they don’t have fun with it like Alex does. Not because is a personal choice (which that too) but because they can’t, because they have a reputation to uphold. And isn’t everything about monarchy based on reputation?

Alex, Nora, and June, also have reputations, but theirs are handmade, you could say, while Philip, Henry, and Bea’s and premade, they had no choice on them, they are just something they have to do, something the have to look like.

Alex, Nora and June chose their own reputations, they decided how they wanted people to see them. They had control over that.

All three of them—himself, June, and Nora—have their roles.

Nora is the cool brainy one, the one who makes inappropriate jokes on Twitter about whatever sci-fi show everyone’s watching, a bar trivia team ringer.

He looks at June—ahead of him now, caramel highlights in her swinging ponytail catching the midday sun—and he knows her place too. The intrepid Washington Post columnist, the fashion trendsetter everyone wants to have at their wine-and-cheese night.

But Alex is the golden boy. The heartthrob, the handsome rogue with a heart of gold. The guy who moves through life effortlessly, who makes everyone laugh. Highest approval ratings of the entire First Family. The whole point of him is that his appeal is as universal as possible.

For example Alex is not his public personal (aside from heart of gold). That’s something he created. The whole point of him is than his appeal is as universal as possible.

Stopping myself here because if I don’t I’ll go on yet another rant about Alex (I love my boy so much).

But basically in the book there’s a deep contrast between Alex’s family and Henry’s family, one is warm the other is cold. Alex has, and has always had, a choice. Sure, being on the public eye was not something he chose, it just happened because his mother wanted to be president, but he could choose everything else. His public persona, his decisions, who to date and who to not date. They didn’t even stop him from dating Henry. Just told him than he has to know what he wanted, to choose. But they didn’t stop him.

Henry is the opposite. He can’t choose how to present himself, how the world sees him. He can’t even wear ties with patterns.

Patterns are considered a “statement.” Royals aren’t supposed to make statements with what we wear.

They aren’t supposed to make statements.

The Royal Family are, as a rule, expected to stay out of politics, and refrain from giving their personal opinion on certain topics, so as to remain impartial.

Dating Alex, son of a political leader, is a statement. Is saying “I support this and I do not support that”.

And, Alex wants to be involved in politics, he talks about how he wants to make a change, how he genuinely cares, and the fastest way to make a change is making it while being on positions of power, somewhere people can hear you.

Alex’s whole reason for wanting to go into politics, when he knows so many past presidential sons and daughters have run away screaming the minute they turned eighteen, is he genuinely cares about people.

He has a very visible political position. People know what he supports and what he doesn’t, what he wants to do and what he doesn’t. And since he likes being on positions of power, because that gives him the possibly to make a change (even if at the end the change he did was unrelated to politics but about who he was as a person), he doesn’t get out of it. He continues being on it, he doesn’t mind attention on him, as long as they see what he wants them to see.

Philip sees Alex always on the public eye for one reason or another, a photo shoot, a new rumour, etc, and sees how his public persona is different to theirs, “wilder”, not so formal.

And, conservatives hate Alex. He is everything they stand against, even before knowing he was bi. He’s a grandchild of immigrants, he’s mixed race, he’s brown, he’s outspoken about his views (which are opposite to theirs), he’s the son of the first president who’s a woman, and who is also a democrat, he comes from a mixed race family, etc etc. Monarchy is supposed to be neutral. Alex is the opposite from neutral.

Philip’s main problem with Henry being gay is than he wanted to come out. Henry’s gay? Ok but he can’t come out. And that’s not based on homophobia (no matter if it sounds like it), is deeper, Henry coming out would challenge everything. First, he wouldn’t be neutral anymore. Monarchy is built upon manipulation upon privilege upon capitalism, etc. Henry coming out would threaten everything, all the rules, all the stuff would have to change, people would be asking why he didn’t come out before, and if Henry said the truth, their reputation would be dammed. And many many people would stop liking them. Some would not like them for being homophobic, other wouldn’t like them because Henry is gay. People from both sides would be against them. Their reputation (as mentioned as repeatedly through the book as repeatedly as I’m mentioning it now) is something that must be perfect. They can’t make statements, they’re perfect, formal, they’ll continue the bloodline, etc. If Henry is gay and people know, it no longer affects him, but all of them.

And many people see queerness and something political. Again, Henry wouldn’t be neutral.

I think than if Henry married a woman (hopefully a beard, someone who knows he’s gay and doesn’t care to cover for him) and had affairs with men, and Philip knew (than he was gay), he wouldn’t mind. He did what he had to do. Henry’s reputation is good, their reputation is good, they’ll continue the bloodline, etc. Because Philip, like Henry, was taught to leave their wants aside, and focus more on monarchy and what’s good for it.

The thing with Philip is, he isn’t evil. And many seem to forget that. He did bad things, and I’m holding him accountable for them, but at the end of the day, he was just brainwashed by Mary, specially after Arthur’s death. He was vulnerable after his father died, his mother wasn’t there mentally, he felt like he had to step up, be the “man of the house”, and he clung to his grandmother (the only adult in his immediate family who was physically and mentally there for him), and Mary took this opportunity to make him into the version of him monarchy wanted him to be (rule follower, defends their reputation no matter what, cares more about monarchy and what people think of them than what he wants to do.), which is just what Mary tried to make Henry to be too.

But he was on about Martha, and land holdings, and the hypothetical heirs they have to start working on, even though Philip hates children, and suddenly it was as if . . . as if everything you said last night came back to me. I thought, God, that’s it, isn’t it? Just following the plan. And it’s not that he’s unhappy. He’s fine. It’s all very deeply fine. A whole lifetime of fine.”

She probably tried with Bea, but Bea saw the manipulation right away and it didn’t work, or she didn’t get to try because with Arthur alive, that man would have never let her do that to his children, and with Arthur gone, Bea was like Catherine, mentally somewhere else. After rehab, she was still mourning, but she had Henry, she didn’t need her like Philip did. Because I think Henry and Bea were closer than Philip and Henry/Bea even before Arthur died, after it and Mary’s manipulation, they just drifted more apart.

If Casey wanted us to believe Philip was bad he would have made him be bad until the end, made him not change. Philip did change. Henry is even trying to make amends with him. Maybe he hasn’t fully forgiven him, which makes absolute sense and just because Philip was a victim it doesn’t he mean he was a victim inside their relationship, than he couldn’t continue the cycle of abuse. But Philip realized the cycle of abuse, realized he was continuing all this time. And tried to stop. That’s growth. Maybe not forgivable, not after everything, but he’s trying.

Philip came to Kensington two weeks ago to apologize to both Henry and Bea for the years since their father’s death, the harsh words, the domineeringness, the intense scrutiny. For basically growing from an uptight people- pleaser into an abusive, self-righteous twat under the pressure of his position and the manipulation of the queen. “He’s fallen out with Gran,” Henry had told Alex over the phone. “That’s the only reason I actually believe anything he says.”

Mary isn’t trying, Mary didn’t decide to support Henry at the end, didn’t try to do better. No one forgives her, and we are not supposed to see than she’s trying to be better, because she isn’t. “Isn’t Mary also a victim of this cycle of abuse, wasn’t she like Philip, brainwashed by her own parents probably (and her parents by their parents and so on), and continued the cycle?” Yes, but she doesn’t actively try to be better, doesn’t realize that, doesn’t even feel bad about it, different to Philip.

Answering again with shorter answers.

Why does Philip hate Alex specifically?

Because Alex is the whole opposite to what they stand for, he’s a walking statement, and he’s so himself, different to monarchy with their perfect flawless formal public personas.

Would Philip be fine with Henry dating some upper-class English guy (before coming out and everything than happened after he did)?

As long as he kept it secret, Henry could date whoever he wanted as long as he didn’t want to make it public, as long as he planned on marrying a woman and following his duty, as long as that someone was responsible, and didn’t have a “target on his back”, and Philip says Alex has.

Again, holding Philip accountable for everything he did, just explaining the reason why he did it.

Does this make sense? Because in my head it does but I don’t know if it does when I write it down

[pinyeti]

overwhelming day today here's the debrief

I have two humongous final projects both worth half my grade due on Wednesday and im losing my mind AND I HAVE A PAPER DUE TOMORROW MORNING AT 8AM AND I HAV.E AMIDTERM TOMORROW AT 3.30Pn, my groups suck for both projects and THEY JUST

MY GOD

I DONT MIND DOING ALL THW WORK EXCEPT IM GENUINELY SO FUCKIN TIRED OF DOING ALL THE FUCKIN WORK ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND IM SO SICK OF IT AND IM SO FUCKIN SICK OF IT IM SO FUCIN TIRED OF DOING THIS ALL THE FUCKIN TIME

and I just

I have this friend who im kinda close too but she's curt with me sometimes and we are kinda rude to each other as a joke but she just

she's rude to me sometimes on purpose and I dont know why and I just feel like she hates me and won't tell me why and I JUST I do love her and it bothers me ig and Ive had alot of issues with this friend and every time I try to solve anything

yeah

and I am having a huge body image attack which isn't that deep but whatever and my brother wlel

he's got every mental illness on the planet and makes my life a living hell I get being mentally ill makes life difficult for you but YOU CANNOT EXPECT ME TO SEE THEM AS MORE THAN EXPLANATIONS FOR YOUR BEHAVIOUR RATHER THAN A FUCKIN EXCUSE?? IM NOT EXCUSING YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT ME T

pk

okay and then

today was another friends birthday and she was so

we made a whole birthday surprise thing for her and I went to alot of effort to do it and she just I invited her boyfriend and one of her other friend and she sprent the whole time talking to them and making it awkward for everyone else and I

she was like send pictures? and it just bothered me cuz she went out of her way to make it look like she hated them and if thats so then ill just not invite her to things??? cuz wth I do like my friends and this is really fuckin inconsiderate and we had karaoke but there was an issue with the mic and she was just

being really weird about ti and I felt kinda disrespected and she really doesnt fuckin care

and im so sick of this and

its like she just tolerates them for pictures and it was weird and idk

maybe I dont like her as much as I thought and maybe im the problem cuz I really tried to make it special for her and she just

she was just not having it and I tried so hard and I wish I didnt cuz I felt so stupid for caring about mics cuz when she left the rest of us were singing nd it wasn't awkward and clean up was fun even

and the thing with happened with the friend that was curt with me earlier she just we found out a guy we knew was spreading rumors about her sexuality ( his friend group did this to me first) so I asked her about it and she said yea that guy confessed to her and she told him she didnt like him like that but also that her and my other friend fought cuz this guy was being weird and I was BUSY BABYSITITNG MY FUCKIN GROUP AT THE TIME AND WE COULDNT PROPERLY TALK ABOUT IT so I called her when I got home and she got so weird and defensive about it like I was crazy and I just

I hate when she does this and I hate that I care about her more than she cares about me

in fact I know this is toxic as fuck and caring isnt measured on scales

bUT I HAVE THIS PROBLEM

I DO

I CARE TOO FUCKIN MUCH AND I WISH I COULD STOP AND I WISH I COULD EAT MY BRAIN UP CUZ IM SO SICK OF CARING OHMYGOD I WISH I COULD JSUT END MY FUC

OH AND

IM DOING 2 MURALS RIGHT

BUT MY IPAD CRASH LEFT ONE OHUGE FUCKIN MURAL GONE FOREVER

AND I DONT HAVE THE 720CM VERSION OF IT AND I HAVENT TOLD THEM YET AND

AND I HATE MY ART AND

I am president of a club and WE GOT OUR FUCKIN BUDGET REJECTED SO IM OUT A BUNCH OF MONEY FOR NO REASON AND IM SO SICK

I need a break

I need a break

[kittiwittebane]

Holy sheet dis gon hit hardeh

!!THIS IS GOING TO BE RE-WRITTEN!!

WARNING: BLOOD, ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE, ¿GORE?

___________

“Tell me who she is, that’s all you have to do.” Belos’s raspy voice scratched Hunter’s ears.

“NO!” He repeated. “You can hurt me but I will NEVER let you hurt her!” the blood dripping from Hunter’s mouth splattered over Belos as he yelled. His face curled into anger. However his face turned into a sneer, Belos’s frustration making him feel better. Despite the blood dripping from his face, arms, legs, stomach and wherever else Belos could get to, Hunter felt what was more important was to keep Willow safe. Titan knows what Belos would do to her and her family. . .

“Dad, I’m telling you, something is wrong!” Willow slammed her hands onto the table aggressively, attempting to prove a point.

“And what do you want us to do? Break into the president’s house and steal a child!?”

“YES! Or- at least make sure he’s ok!” Willow cried. “He hasn’t answered my texts, calls, he hasn’t been at school. Something is wrong!”

“And what makes you think it’s that and not the fact he might not have-”

“SOMETHING IS WRONG!” Willow snapped. “And if you aren’t going to help me then I will do it myself!”

“You are going to break into a high leader’s house to check if Hunter is ok??”

“YES! How many times do I have to repeat this?!” Willow hissed. She stormed out the door, and despite the fact they could get thrown in jail for this, Gilbert couldn’t let his daughter go alone. She approached the house and in one more attempt to get his daughter to stop he spoke.

“Its lock-” he started.

But Willow had already gotten the door open.

Where the heck did she get the knowledge to do that from??

Willow and Gilbert snuck around the house, but ran into someone.

“Uhm-” Willow stuttered. Then she recognised them. And they recognised her.

“Willow?”

“Raine?”

Willow wasn’t sure if it was safe yet.

“Looking for Hunter?” they asked. She nodded.

“No one has seen him in weeks. But I assume he is in his room because we aren’t allowed in there.” Raine told her. “Come with me.”

Gilbert looked at her, and Willow nodded. They followed Raine through the mansion until they reached a room, which they both assumed was Hunters. Willow lock picked the door.

“Just know, Belos goes in there at exactly 3:30pm, 6:00pm, 6:00am, 12:00pm every day.” Raine told them. “Also I can’t be here so I’m just going to go.” and with that, they left them. Cautiously, Willow pulled the door handle. You could hear a scramble of arms and legs, lots of crashing. Willow opened the door to find Hunter basically upside down, with a bunch of photos of her in an opened box that was all over the floor. He was covered in blood, and there was blood all over his bed and floor. She ran over and hugged him, crying.

“Hunter oh my god I’m not even going to ask if you are ok! There is blood everywhere!” They both broke down into a sea of tears and blood, and all Gilbert could do was watch.

“Willow, I told you not to follow me!” Hunter burst out.

“Well f*ck your stupid brain, I’m your girlfriend and I don’t care what you say. I care about you and you were missing!” WIllow snapped. Hunter shook his head.

“Leave before he finds you.” Hunter pushed her away. “He will kill you.”

Willow balled her fists in anger.

“You think that a person like me, could leave her own boyfriend like THIS!?” she wailed. Just as she was going to say more, he shushed her.

(This next part is my one little thing about this.)

“I’ll tell you something. Willow, I’m not like you. Neither is my uncle. I am what’s called a Grimwalker. I’m not even human, I am a clone of one. The one who was the old leader. Caleb. Caleb Wittebane. I am not his son, I am his clone.” Hunter desperately tried to explain. “And my uncle is a monster. He consumed magical animals to stay alive after having his head impaled. He is living off animal souls. Please, he is not your standard human fighter. You can’t win this one. Leave!” Hunter whisper-cried. But it was too late. They had created a commotion, and Belos had heard.

“Oh no.”

[ficjoelispunk]

Ch 05 - RELIEF

You can find the continuation here

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Author's Note: Guys, like always, I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, don't give up on me, translating is not easy, but I did my best. Correct me as much as you can. Thanks.

After the attack, see so many lives lost by a rude mistake, for overestimating your enemy. Pinzón resigned.

So Colonel Carrillo took his place. Bringing controversies about their methods. But you couldn't deny that he passed on trust to people. He was the only one who really scared Escobar.

Peña was excited. But Carrillo's methods were really peculiar. Escobar used the children to protect himself and pass on information as scouts. And as soon as Carrillo came back, and paraded through the streets with a train of 100 men, to make a fuss you began to question the sanity of the new Colonel.

Maybe you were traumatized. Because when you became aware, you wanted to find a way to prevent it, thinking if if there was another attack, it would be 100 men killed. But Carrillo had a free pass given directly by President Gavilla, and nothing could be done.

After the incident with the soldiers. You and Javier had apparently given a "truce". But it wasn't something 100% right. You still quarreled often. In fact, every time you met, especially if it was during working hours.

After your kiss, you both made a point of simply pretending that nothing had happened. Simply ignoring and not saying anything about it. Both dealing with the situation with a lot of maturity. You two have avoided each other.

But your line of reasoning was as follows, if he was the one who kissed you, he should explain himself. After all, you didn't grab anyone. Despite having reciprocated, until a certain point. Anyway, it was something you really wanted to ignore.

It's better that way.

It is important to emphasize that working in the same place as the individual in question did not help at all.

So, first lesson: don't get involved with co-workers. Never. Under no circumstances.

"Shit! Damn it!" You hit the copying machine.

"It's fucking 6:50 a.m.," Peña murmured at the door of the copy room. "Calm down"

You closed your eyes. And he sighed.

"Perfect."

He took a step towards you. You haven't looked at him yet.

"What happened?" His voice calms and hoarse.

He does it on purpose.

"I don't know. I think the paper got stuck inside, and chewed some copies..." you ran your hands over your face, exhausted.

"You need to put fewer leaves..."

"Really? Wow, as I could imagine... maybe because it's written in the fucking opening, "up to 10 sheets" I know how to read Agent Peña"

"Jesus! You're tireless. Allow yourself a truce. Let me solve the problem with the copier, and we pretend it never happened"

"Yeah, you're great in that"

"In that what?"

You meant pretending that certain things had never happened, but you answered something else.

“Copiers”

He rolled his eyes.

Javier walked to you, stopping next to you. The fact that he walked towards you left you with your legs soft. How stupid it is to have your whole body responding to a man, as if you were a teenager.

"Excuse me," he said already next to you, making a gesture with his hands so that you could move so that he could handle the copier.

He opened the lid, skillfully and removed the papers that had been curled and chewed by the copier. It's closed. And he made a gesture with his hands as if he had done magic.

You rolled your eyes.

"None "thank you Javi"?"

How about, "get out of my face Javi"?"

"You really need someone to take all this tension away from you dear, otherwise you will explode at any moment..."

Javier liked to meet you, bump into you, have the minimum amount of time to provoke you or talk to you. He liked the smell of your perfume, and the symptoms you caused in his body.

You were unpredictable and surprising. There hasn't been a day since you arrived in Bogotá perched in Noonan, that he didn't wish he could touch you.

Everything about you was inviting to him. Your soft skin. Your hair that falls messy perfectly from your hairstyles. Your hands moving the papers. The noise of the heel of your shoe when you walked. You were the perfect distraction.

Your lips. Which often irritated him. Javier thought of so many possible ways to silence your lips. That kiss was one of the ways he imagined for months. It made you connect in a more tacit way. But he promised himself not to move forward like this with you anymore.

Since then, he's only been orbiting over you. Maybe, waiting for a new opportunity. The fact that you were there within the reach of his eyes all fucking day was a torture, and a relief.

He thought several times about talking to you about what happened in the file room. But he couldn't think of anything to talk about. And he has more things to worry about than that. Much more things. He doesn't have time for relationships. Never had it.

Javier organized himself to go out with the police, and he noticed your restlessness. Your chest would go up and decide on your shirt. And your forehead made a soft crease of concern.

As he prepared, his eyes met his own. Javier seemed too excited. Too anxious.

He ran in great strides, jumping the stairs every two steps, to his table. Javier didn't think much about what he was going to do. Especially in relation to you, it was always driven by impulses.

You followed his movement, so about the eyelashes.

"Are you okay?" He asked leaning over the table, as he always did.

You nodded.

His look has changed. And he made himself calmer. Time-consuming. Looking at you. The eyes are melting little by little.

"No need to worry. We'll be back in a few hours"

You looked at him over his eyelashes.

"I'm not worried" you tried to hold a smile.

He smiled.

"No?"

"Nop”

"Okay, so if I die..."

"Shut up, Agent Peña" you shuddered closing your eyes tightly.

He smiled.

"It's Javi, and you seem worried..."

You opened your mouth to speak...

"Peña" Murphy called him.

He turned around. Murphy gestured with his arms.

"Don't miss me" he patted your table three.

You pointed to the door.

"Go"

He laughed.

And incredibly in this little moment. You felt calmer. Your breathing was stable. And your expression was soft, because you was smiling, while shaking your head.

With this operation they were able to locate basically all the points that the scouts were. Carrillo had his methods, but he also had his merits. He was smart. And articulate.

You, Murphy, Edward, Peña, Carrillo and Trujillo spent the afternoon accessing the recordings of the wiretaps that the train was able to record. And separating the locations. The scouts made contact informing where the train was passing, and you could get an idea of where more or less the warning points were.

Colonel Carrillo organized the way of approaching the scouts. And you recorded everything, to document the operation. With it there, now you hardly needed to worry about the requirements, you needed to worry about the file, the records of the operations.

"Peña, you're coming with me. Murphy, Jacoby and you stay here, to guide us" Carrillo gave the orders.

You nodded.

Peña looked at you for a few minutes before leaving.

"Be careful outside," you said to both of them.

And that's how the night started.

On the radio you could follow the operation with Murphy, listening to the capture of the scouts. It was terribly agonizing just to listen. You had the feeling that at any moment something would go wrong.

You were walking from one side to the other, nibbling on the loose skin of your nail.

"Stay calm," Murphy said on a break.

You looked at him.

"It's going to sink the ground from walking on the same place so much," he smiled.

You looked around the room trying to find a new focus.

"They're doing well"

You nodded. And sat down.

And then the radio whistled.

"Sixth scout caught" was Peña's voice.

Murphy looked at you, smiling. Victorious.

You smiled back. Sighing deeply, relieved. Happy. It was worthy of a victory after so much struggle. You deserved an advantage.

"Go get some rest," Murphy said.

You nodded, getting up from the chair.

"You should do the same," you said as you passed by him.

He nodded.

You knew he wouldn't do that.

And you wouldn't be able to sleep either. You haven't been able to have a sleep routine for weeks. That was the price you got for sleeping where you worked.

It turns out that you went to your dorm, but you couldn't nail your eye even if you were tired. It was as if you had taken too much caffeine and your body did not succumb to fatigue.

When this happened, you left, and sometimes you stayed in the file room. There was a comforting melancholy in that room smelling of old paper, silent, illuminated by the moon.

Today was no different. You went there. You spent some time reading something about some operations, and when you was returning to the dormitory, when you turned the corridor you came face to face with Agent Peña.

"Hey" you spoke with your hand on his chest to avoid the thud "you scared me" you smiled blandly.

He didn't say anything.

You removed your hands from his chest quickly.

"Congratulations, everything worked out, didn't it? Where are the scouts? Have you started the questions?" You asked studying his face.

"They are children" he murmured.

Well, that was a possibility, but it was still a surprise.

Javier didn't look at you, he looked over your head. The whole body is stiff, the hands on the waist. Swinging the weight of the body between one leg and another.

"Are you okay?" You were trying to find his eyes.

"Yes, Carrillo let them go, tried another method," he murmured, the sound of the voice failing.

You've seen him like this very few times.

"Released? Another method? What do you mean?" You asked confused.

He wanted to get out of your way, but you took a step to the side finding him. He closed his eyes, turning his face, unhappy, as he ran his fingers through his nose.

"Don't worry about that" he took another step to the side.

You followed him.

"Hey" you held his arm gently "talk to me" you looked for his eyes, talking gently to him.

He finally looked at you. The dark eyes, but not of anger, were pain, resentment, guilt, sadness.

You frowned. Worried. It was strange to see Peña in all his grandeur and arrogance, disarmed in this way, he seemed so vulnerable. A man who seemed indestructible with an impenetrable shell, now so fragile in front of you, brought you a little affliction. When he always passed a certain security.

He wanted to get out of your way, but you stood in front of him following your body with your hands in his arms.

You knew that if he really wanted to, he could go over you and you would never reach him. But instead he was still there, with you.

"What happened?" You insisted.

He swallowed it dry. Hesitant.

"Carrillo pointed the gun at the head of one of the boys and shot" he paused still looking deep into his eyes "to give a fucking message" the voice so thick coming out in a murmur.

You were silent looking at each other for a few minutes.

When Javi abruptly advanced on top of you, sticking your back to the wall and pressing his lips on yours.

This urgent time, you couldn't resist. You immediately kissed back. You missed that. Their mouths fit perfectly. Javier was aggressively immediate. You could barely breathe.

You started pushing him gently. Just to separate your lips. He didn't let his hands off your face, but he gave you a break.

"I need you" he spoke with his lips brushing yours, his breath panting “Fuck, I need you"

You held his fists around your face.

"Okay," you whispered.

He pressed his lips on yours again, but this time calmer. More organized. You ran your arms over his shoulders, until your hands were tangled in his hair.

Javier passed his hands through the back of your thigh and lifted you to hold her on his lap. You held yourself around his neck crossing your legs around his waist. He walked to the archive room a little behind you, with you on his lap while kissing you.

He opened the door, passed with you, closing the door with his feet. Javier took you to the table at the back of the room. Putting you sitting on the table.

His hands went to your face, and went down your neck, gently passing over your breasts, instinctively making you arch towards him. Your clitoris was throbbing painfully, with the heat radiating through your body. Your lips met.

Javier leaned his forehead on his, panting, in an impasse. You had your hands intertwined in his hair.

"Maybe it's better if we don't do this right now," he murmured, as he placed his arms on the table on the side of your body, leaning, leaning to be at the same height as you.

You ran your hand over his face. You thought of some provocative answers, but that's not what came out of your mouth.

"What do you want to do?" You whispered.

He walked away a little, almost nothing, just to look at you.

"I don't know if I want to do this to you," he said.

You smashed your eyes, and smiled in surprise.

"Okay, then" you bit your lips.

Wait. What?

He looked at you, thinking better about what he had said.

"No.." he shook his head looking down "that's not what I meant..."

"So, explain it to me"

He raised his head to look at you, giving a dull smile.

"You can talk to me" you held his face, and he closed his eyes to your touch "whatever it is, you've already told me worse things..." you tried to comfort him.

After a moment of silence, and a sigh.

"I do this with..." he hesitated "you know..."

"Prostitutes? Who could have imagined..." You were ironic.

He looked at the ceiling, perhaps embarrassed, to admit it in front of him.

"It relieves me, it distracts me in situations like this," he murmured, almost a whisper, with his head down avoiding your gaze.

So, maybe now some things would start to make sense. And a lot of things had an explanation. Javier relieved the tension of working with sex. Sick? Maybe. But understandable.

"And what do you do with them?" You murmured, weighing your breath, and crawling forward to the edge of the table, almost sinking Javier's head into your breasts.

You were already in your hell. What's wrong with hugging the devil?

He was still propped up on the table, but when he heard you he raised his head, his noses almost brushing each other, his eyes doubting what he had just heard.

You brought your lips closer to his.

"Show me" your voice was a soft whisper.

You could only hear your breaths. Your heart beat so hard in your chest, that you had the feeling that Javier could hear.

"You know I'm not a gentleman..."

"Maybe, I don't like the good boys..."

In an abrupt gesture, Javier raised your skirt to his waist, without reducing the distance from his faces, turning one hand on the table next to your hip to support himself, and with the other, opening you legs to him.

Your mouth opened, letting out a trembling sigh, with the touch of his hands on the skin of your thigh.

Javier would never treat you the way he treated the prostitutes he met. You were his prize. There, offering to provide the relief he sought in other bodies, but now you offered yours. Not even in his best dreams, you would be like that, so perfect.

"You're already wet for me, aren't you?"

You closed your eyes as his fingers slid smoothly down your thigh, rising towards your panties.

"No" was more of a sigh than an answer.

Javier gave some light kisses on your neck. Sending goosebumps through your body.

Your hands were in his hair.

And when he felt the touch of his finger on the fabric of your panties, brushing your greeting so wet that it passed the moisture into the fabric. You pulled your breath and didn't breathe anymore.

He laughed softly. Victorious. Yes, you were dripping through it.

He took a break. Studying your face. The signs of pleasure and anxiety in the face. Your mouth open, and your eyebrows furrowed. Javier tortured you, wondering how much you wanted the relief of his touch in your pussy.

When he finally touched your middle, you let out the air. And he started sliding his finger over you. Your hands pulled his hair gently, as his finger went up and down.

"I always knew that your desire for me flowed down your legs"

"Javi..." you sighed, eyes closed.

He smiled maliciously at you calling him Javi, for him, he was always Agent Peña. But now for you, he was just Javi.

You felt the touch of his finger finally touch your skin when he pulled the fabric of your panties to the side. Your body had a spasm.

"Don't worry hermosa, I'll relieve your tension, I'll take care of you"

Your breathing was panting. You were needy and desperate, but fuck, you didn't care, the situation was too intoxicating at that moment for you to think clearly.

And finally the relief came, you were so horny, that the simple touch of Javier's fingers on your clitoris could have made you cum.

"You're so sensitive" Javier lowered his finger to your entrance, circling it to bring your lubrication all over his pussy, "You needed this a long time ago, didn't you, baby?"

Javier then slid his finger bringing your wet to your clit, and pressing his finger on it as he circled the set of rigid nerves that was accumulating a tension that radiated shocks through your body.

"Jesus... I've never had something so wet in my hands..."

"I'm not what you usually have" between moans.

Your head tilted back.

"Yes" he murmured with his lips walking around your neck "usually they don't speak"

You started moving your hip together with Javier's fingers.

"Take off your shirt for me, cariño" his lips were in your ear, and the low timbre of his voice combined with the accent, sent a direct blow to your core.

You nodded, loosening his hair, unbuttoning your shirt.

His fingers kept making the movement of going down to your entrance, and going back around your clitoris. Your walls squeezed desperately around nothing. He seemed to have a fucking map, touching and moving his fingers exactly where you needed it.

"I wanted this from the moment I put my eyes on you in that damn office 3 fucking years ago" he murmured more to himself than to you.

"You're so fucking hot" His eyes danced through your naked tits as if it were a suitcase of money. With devotion.

"Do you always think of me?" You provoked.

His lips went down to your nipple. Javier passed his tongue through the sensitivity of your nipple, and this set of him stimulating your nipple, and your clitoris, made you tilt your head back again, releasing the air through your mouth.

Javier slid two fingers into you, your mouth swallowed the air, your feeling dividing you, making you follow the movement with your hip, biting your lips. He made the movement of going back and forth studying your body, introducing another big and thick finger inside you.

He let go of your nipple, the look of simulated piety.

"What happened, baby?" His mustache pinching the skin of your breast. "Can't you find your words?" He smiles.

And it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, to observe the pleasure he caused in you. You bit your lips, frowning. Your breasts went up and down without rhythm demonstrating your erratic breathing, depending on the movement he made inside you.

"So needy," he said with his eyes inebriated with your heavenly image, grinding your hips over his fingers, with your bare breasts in front of him.

Javier bowed his fingers finding the spongy point inside you, which made you have a spasm, and a moan from the bottom of your throat escaped through your half-open lips.

He pressed his thumb on your clitoris, and you contracted. Feeling the pressure of your orgasm form inside you. Javier lowered his head reaching your other nipple this time, passing his tongue gently over him, your skin shivered all over his body.

"You're close cariño, I feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers"

You moaned, while moving your hips together with Javier's fingers, biting your lips.

"Keep going." you sighed "Javi..." he smiled when he heard his name coming out of your mouth again, he wanted you to sing his name like this every day.

"Come for me, baby, " you obeyed, gave in to the collapse of your body "that's it, good girl" Javier passed his arm over your back, holding you, while your body leaned towards him at the same time as he moved his fingers inside you in the right way.

When you came down from your height. Your spasms of pleasure stopped, you passed your hands through his hair, to kiss him. But he walked away, you opened your eyes, confused.

Javier took his fingers out of you slowly.

"I want you to clean up this mess you made" his voice was dark, sexy.

You would do anything he asked you to do.

He stretched his fingers in front of you. You held his hand with your hands and opened your mouth.

"Look at me"

You looked. Obeying like a puppy. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, and you sucked, passing your tongue through them, taking every piece, and sucking as your tongue passed through the greeting of his fingers.

"Fuck" he whispered to himself. Wondering what your mouth could do with his cock already throbbing in his pants.

He studied you, darkly. Javier was slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth. Leaving a mental note for another way to make you shut up.

"I want to taste you," Javier approached to kiss you.

The kiss was deep, as if he took you. Your bittersweet taste in his mouth. His hands went down to your breasts, squeezing, painful, but pleasurable flesh.

"Tastes like heaven” he murmured, between your lips.

In an abrupt movement he pulled you off the table, pulled your panties leaving them on your ankle. Javier turned your back to him, your ass exposed to him.

Javier squeezes your ass, letting out a growl between thentes. His hand pushes your back down on the table.

You hear his zipper opening, and the belt buckle unraving. You get anxious, you wanted to see him. Keep his image in memory.

He separates your legs more with his hand. Your wet gets cold with the touch of the wind over your middle, and you stiffen your body.

"Relax for me, cariño" Javier whispered as he climbed his fingers up your lower leg. Passing through your hole, to get your wet, and pass over his cock.

You hear him get behind you. He stop for a moment.

"When I do this, I use protection, do you want me to put one on?"

You bite your lips. You turns back, and has a glimpse of Javier's cock. Taking a long time to look at him. He stroked himself, he's big, possibly the biggest you've ever seen, big enough that you would be apprehensive if you weren't desperate for him, you wanted to touch him. The thick veins for their fulfillment. You run your tongue through your lips.

"Do you want a picture?"

You roll your eyes.

And you feel the burning of a slap on your ass. You retract, whining.

“Don't have that kind of behavior with me"

You look at him, needy. While he caresses the heat that his slap left on your skin. Your eyes go down to his cock again, biting his lips.

God, you wanted him inside you urgently.

“Was that what you imagined?”

“Maybe”

He’s possessed.

“I’ll make you remember me for a week”

He approaches you.

"You didn't answer me"

"I want to feel you"

"Damn baby, asking me to fuck you like a whore, with your ass turned to me, did I win the fucking lottery?"

Javier doesn't waste time, the head of his cock goes up and down through his folds, you follow his movement listening to his breath weigh in anticipation, growling behind you. Until he fits the head of his cock in your entrance, it sinks into you slowly.

You pull the air with your mouth feeling it fill you.

He pushes his cock on you little by little, inch by inch. You feel the burning of the grip of his cock in your pussy, opening you in half, stretching you. You moan, and you can't help but move your hip in an attempt to adjust to its size.

You feel so fucking full.

"Fuck" he murmurs on top of you, pulling his breath, panting "so tight"

He holds his hip with both hands.

"Stop moving, darling," the hoarse voice.

You whine for him.

And he pushes the rest that was missing at once, you feel his hip in your ass. The table hitting the wall with his impulse.

"So tight I thought I wouldn't be able to make it to the end" he makes his way back and you almost collapse.

You moan.

Javier started slowly, but hard, dragging his cock back, so only his head was inside you, at a slow pace that you felt your head sliding inside you.

“Feels so good”

He pushed himself back to you hard, as if he couldn’t stand not being inside you again immediately, as if being without you was almost painful. He moaned

You lift your butt to him, and feel the burning of a slap on your ass, making you jump.

"I told you not to move" his voice between you.

Javier was sure that if you moved this hot way with his cock I would come in from you, it wouldn't last for just 1 minute. You were so tight, he thanked him for making you cum before, even so wet for him, it would be hard to penetrate you if you weren't excited enough.

You try to obey, but feeling his cock inside you filling you is so good, that you can't help it, you want more from him, you want him to be deep in you.

"Javi..." your voice is trembling, you bite your lips.

And he seems to read your thoughts. His thrusts inside you become faster. More violent. You feel his cock in your stomach, a pleasant pain to know that he is all inside if you.

Javier sinks into you hard. Their hips hitting each other making obscene sounds.

The head of his cock was almost permanently against the point inside you that made your back arch on him and your pussy was so tight around him that you were sure you couldn’t take it anymore.

Javi pulls you to stand up. And you support your leg on the table in front of you, being more open to him, giving him more access.

He growls at you, over your hair, pulling your hair to the side, to bite your skin on your shoulders, suck your neck.

Everything was so intense that you didn’t seem to worry about someone listening to you both in there.

"Javi" you seemed to hum his name, which made him get so close to the edge of ejaculation, that he could hardly hold it before making you cum once again.

“Fuck, need to feel you come while I’m inside you” He murmured between his ears in the ear “Please, babe, fuck, please come for me…” 

You held the pulp of your ass, opening it for him.

"Ahhh" the heavy air of pleasure coming out of your mouth "Javi... ahn, that's it, oh, Javi..."

That was a song for Javier Peña's ears. He would cum just hearing you talk to him like that.

You collapse on his cock, your sight turns white, your body in shock with the discharge of pleasure, he feels your walls squeezing around him, and he can't hold it anymore, cumming on you.

Grubbing his cock deep into you. You feel his jets fill you. He sighs, still pressing deep into his pussy.

You are panting. He holds your body, still feeling your spasms. Your body gets soft, as if you turned into gelatin.

He rests his head on his back as he regains his breath, Javi's hands holding your abdomen. You felt him coming out of you. You whined.

He kissed the skin of his back, while squeezing your ass, lowering his skirt.

You reached for your shirt, and you were wearing it, when you turned to Javier who was fixing him pants.

You took a step in his direction.

Javier looked at you with intensity, still regulating his breathing, his eyes melted like lava in a volcano.

"Do you feel better?" You raise your hand to fix his hair that you made clumsy.

He grabs your waist pulling you to him. Nodding and kissing your forehead.

You smile.

"Good night, Agent Peña"

You got rid of his grip, to walk when he held your arm, and pulled for a slow, careful kiss, from which it was difficult to distance yourself. You walked away from him, against his will, because he held your waist firmly against his body.

Javier seemed drunk after this sex you had. And you found it hard to believe that he treated a prostitute like that.

He held your hand as you walked away.

Javier didn't want you to leave. For the first time he wanted something after sex. So used to simply opening your wallet and not having to worry about the later.

Everyone knew that he was the kind of man who would under no circumstances run after someone, unless he was a criminal. That he used people to achieve his goals, and that he wouldn't call the next day.

But you were already prepared for that.

But Javier wanted to take you to his bed, let you fall asleep in his arms, wake you up to sink into you, again, again and again. He wanted to smell you, the warmth of your skin. He wanted you for so long, and now that he had it, he felt so good inside you that having just that from you wasn't enough.

With other women he had something momentary. The relief was in that sexual warmth. Then he just wanted them to leave. It's always been like that. He wouldn't even know if he would know what to do after sex, for so long that he didn't have to worry about this kind of thing.

And that's where he realized how fucked up he was. The only thing he managed was to wish you a good night.

"Good night, Mrs. Assistant"

You smiled. You let go of his hand. And you left the file room, feeling him run down his legs.

[ahmementos]

Remember To Forget

I think at this point the retelling of RE 6 has been done in abundance but I never did it, hence this drabble.

He had been told Chris didn’t remember anything.  “I think I’d remember a hot piece like yourself.”  To hear Chris refer to him as a hot piece was wild.  

Leon was almost regretting being sent in on the assignment.  He had been assigned to guard detail for the President for so long that, after assuring the detail taking over for him was competent, he leapt at the chance to get out of the US and breathe. 

“If you did, you’d realize that is not something you’d call me.”  Leon tipped the whiskey glass back and swallowed down its contents.  “Ever.”  

Whether or not he’d like for Chris to call him that was irrelevant; Chris didn’t know who he was at that particular moment and Leon wasn’t going to pretend Chris felt that way when he was himself .  He stared at the man he’d been tasked to bring back, a man the BSAA didn’t want to trigger by sending in his squad unless they absolutely had to.  I’ve met him once, was Leon’s response, but he went anyway, following intel to the bar he’d heard Chris had practically been living at.  

“Then losing my memory was the best damn thing for me, especially right now.”  Chris had been looking him over since the conversation had been initiated, if Leon was being honest but at that moment?  If Chris could have devoured him with his gaze, he would have.

Chris hadn’t shaved in at least a month and his appearance was far from the clean cut soldier he tended to present himself as.  Leon couldn’t even say his disheveled appearance or the fact that he smelled like he bathed in alcohol before heading to the bar was a turn off.  That said more about his own tastes than it did Chris’, didn’t it?

“And the minute you get your memory back, you will regret having those thoughts.”  He wasn’t drunk, not yet, but Leon was already regretting having the thoughts he was having about a man who didn’t remember who he was, let alone who Leon was to him… which was nothing.  Claire’s friend, fellow survivor of Raccoon City; that’s who Leon was.

Chris didn’t even blink.  “Well you could fuck me, and see if that jogs my memory.”  His eyes never left Leon’s as he took another drink.  “Unless you really aren’t invested in bringing me back in like my alleged superiors want.”

“Aha.”  More a statement than an actual laugh, more a deflection than an admission of desire, Leon leaned back in his chair and did his best not to lick his lips.  “Even if I thought that was a good idea, you are too drunk to honestly consent to that.”

Chris tipped the bottle of whiskey against Leon’s glass and filled it up.  “Then you get drunk with me,” he offered as a faulty compromise.  “Then we both can make stupid choices.”

“A man who’s still too sober for his own good, trying to make a deal like that.”  The glass lifted in Leon’s hand and tilted against his lips.  

Chris offered a lazy half smile.  “Your room or mine?”

*

No one drunk off their ass could ravage another person so expertly.  Skilled fingers made short work of buttons and zippers on pants  Calloused palms smoothed Leon’s shirt up and over his head.  He knew being a functional alcoholic was possible - ask him how he knew - but Chris was making him feel like he had a lot more to learn about the title if he wanted to be the reigning DSO ‘ drunk at work and no one can tell’ champ.  Either that or Chris wasn’t as drunk as he was pretending.

“I better not find out later-” Leon tried to speak but the mouth back on his silenced further protest.  He didn’t want to find out later that Chris was faking being drunk because that meant he went along with this game willingly, because he wanted to fuck him.  The affair was only okay if it meant nothing.

The neon sign just outside the window illuminated Chris’ face when he pulled back.  “Stop thinking,” he whispered, words spoken against Leon’s jaw and brushed against the shell of Leon’s ear.  

All Leon could do was nod; every one of his senses were being overloaded by a man he wasn’t sure was even drunk.

Chris told him to stop thinking but all Leon could do was think, think about the real reasons why he jumped at the chance to come try to save someone he only met once .  Obligation to Claire, obligation to the country, or was it because meeting Chris Redfield one time had the man on his brain more times than he cared to admit?  Ultimately, he wanted to know how those rough work worn hands felt against his skin, against each and every scar his own line of work had given him.  As Chris’ fingers mapped along a healed over bullet wound on his shoulder, he could confirm it felt amazing.

“This your first?”  The strength that Chris expended to hoist Leon up on the bare topped dresser was impressive, him sliding between Leon’s parted thighs even more so.  “With a guy?”

Leon answered by hoisting a leg up so that his hand could make contact with the pockets and slap a packet of lube against his chest.  “No.”  

Every inch closer Chris pressed against him was almost too much, and the sight of him tearing into a packet of lube with his teeth was even more so.  “Always prepared or were you hoping it’d go this way?”

Like the good little whore he’d been told he was on more occasions than he cared to count, he answered with more of a moan than he wanted to.  “Always prepared.”  Words breathed out when slicked fingers slipped inside him.  “Not complaining that it’s going this way, though.”

“Are we enemies?”  Chris’ words were hushed against Leon’s skin as he worked him open with a gentleness that was what Leon expected from the boy scout, but not from the amnesiac rough around the edges man he’d found at the bar.  “Battle buddies?  Wingmen?  Am I dick deep in pussy when I’m not out saving the world instead of between these perfect fucking thighs?”

“None of the above, s’far as I know.”  Leon shook his head, then let it fall back against the wall.  “If you ever thought about me like this, you kept that shit to yourself.”  

Chris slowly withdrew his fingers.  “I don’t guess amnesia stops the body’s natural desires.”  The space wasn’t left empty for long, just long enough to slick up his cock and gently press inside.  “If my old memories come back and erase this, remind me I said that shit about being between your thighs.”

Leon bit down on his bottom lip until Chris’ mouth offered assistance in muffling his unwanted noises.  One of two things was going to happen.  Getting off inside his tight ass was going to jog his memory or he was never going to remember this shit happened thanks to alcohol and Leon was never going to bring it up.  His nails sunk into Chris’ back, both out of response to the pace picking up and also to the thought of giving any of it up.  

If there was ever a moment Leon wished was at the bottom of every bottle he crawled into, it was that one.  He wanted every empty bottle of whiskey to lead to Chris Redfield being between his thighs, every last drop following every last orgasm the man could wrench out of his body by simply tilting his hips just right as he thrust deep inside.  

“The me you know is an idiot.”  He wanted the amnesiac Chris to sit down with real Chris and make fucking a normal part of their daily routine.  

Leon wanted to declare the Leon that Chris currently knew was the bigger idiot, getting tipsy enough to fuck without a second thought, but he was too busy thanking that same idiot for disregarding the moral implications of the scenario.  He just held on tighter, met Chris’ thrusts with his own, and let the world spiral away… 

*

Leon was gone before morning.  “Look he doesn’t remember me enough to click anything into place for him, okay?”  He wasn’t comfortable leaving his post with the President for long and he was definitely running from the case of feelings and emotions he caught with those warm arms curled around him in the middle of the night.  “You can probably send the BSAA team in and it would work better.”

“ He didn’t even remember you from the Terrasave party?”

He spoke softly as he crossed the airport towards his departing flight home.  “I did what I could but he definitely did not remember me.  He didn’t remember you either, Claire.”

“He’s an asshole like that, I guess.”

“All it proves is that we all spend too much time doing our jobs and not enough time being with the people we care about.”  Leon sucked at pep talks and cheering people up.  Claire knew this.  The fact that she was still sitting on the phone pretending he had some magical phrase to make it all better was telling of how upset she was.  “Tell BSAA he’s probably softened enough to take whatever intervention they have planned.”

“You make it sound like you fucked him into complacency.”

“A spy never tells his tactics and trade secrets.”  He was glad the phone didn’t convey the blush he knew was spreading across his cheeks.  “I have to board, Claire.  Send the BSAA in.  He’ll come around-”

“I want a big party, a real party, when whatever the hell this mess is gets cleared up.”

“Whatever you want,” he promised.  Always the needs of others, never his own.  His own needs would’ve had him saying to hell with the President and staying until Chris came around.  His own needs would’ve insisted Chris come back with him and they’d sort the amnesia out later.  

Claire wanted a party.  The President wanted his topman back on the job.  Whatever Leon wanted was irrelevant.

*

“So Ada’s not dead.”  

Leon had been doing his best to avoid Chris as much as possible since the missions got entwined.  “No… she’s definitely not dead.”  Now the man was blocking his escape from the med tent he’d just been checked out in.  “I’m sorry about Piers.”

Chris nodded and took a step closer, but didn’t quite crowd Leon's space.  “He was a good soldier who deserved better,” was all he said on the matter, quietly and solemnly.  

“We all deserve better.”  Leon stared at the table and his hands flat against it, anything so he didn’t have to look at Chris.  

“I was going to retire after this mission,” Chris confessed, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke on a subject he wasn’t sure Leon cared about.  “I remembered a guy I ran into when my head was a mess that I wanted to hunt down.  He had the most perfect thighs-”

Leon definitely couldn’t look at him after that omission.  “I’m supposed to say it was a mistake and that we were drunk and apologize, right?”  His breath caught in his throat as Chris crossed the distance between them.  “If you’re asking about Ada-”

Chris’ hand was so gentle as it tugged Leon’s chin in his direction so he was forced to give him eye contact.  “Only if you and Ada are an item and you were off having drunk affairs instead of actively giving in to something you wanted.”

“Ada is complicated but I wasn’t running from her that night.”  Leon’s eyes slowly shut as he leaned into Chris’ touch.  “You’re going to a joint operation after this, hm?”

“I’ll be gone long enough for us both to think about where we might go from here.”

“When do you leave?”

“Twelve hours.”

Leon’s hand slid down Chris’ chest, fingers left to hook around belt loops.  “Twelve hours is a long time.”  His other hand slipped into his pants pocket and pulled out a key card for his booked hotel for the night.  “Plenty of time to shower and decompress from one of the longest goddamn missions on record, if you want my professional opinion.”

“Your opinion is the only one I want to hear right now.”  He sealed the deal with a kiss, long and deep, his own hand wrapping possessively around Leon’s hand and the keycard that promised one night of bliss before it all went to shit again for both of them.

[werezmastarbucks]

3. picturing violence

pic credit

masterlist

word count: 7143

warnings: verbal abuse, convos about rape

music: tsunami by bambie thug

author's note: i invented the term of nomad agent

Chibs took off his helmet and looked into the sky. It was nice sitting on his bike again. The ass just didn't feel the same for the whole last week when it didn't feel the firm and steady seat of his favorite beast.

Now that the club's wallet was two and a thousand bucks lighter, it stung like the sum was much higher. Nobody dared to fuck with bikes before. The fact that the parking lot stod empty probably gave them all some kind of light trauma, he was thinking. He knew Juice had one. He was seeing it in his eyes that shone with the lost expression, asking silent questions. Obviously, it was just a little scare. But it did have an unpleasant smell of trouble.

He got off the bike and moved his legs, aiming for the bar door, thinking only about what he wanted to drink. The time is two o'clock, ripe time for whiskey. He wanted nothing more from this world until there was a glass of whiskey in him, calming his nerves and warming his body. After a spell of hot weather, suddenly June, the month, not the bitch, brought cold winds from the ocean. It was pleasant and even chilly at times. Whatever the fuck was happening with the climate.

He walked, eyes focused on the bar door, trying to not see anything else. And yet, and yet. Click-clack of the heels on the asphalt was following him. Chibs added some speed to his stride, hoping that maybe she was running towards someone else.

"Filip!"

"Ohhhh, shit", he grumbled. The holy door only ten steps away from him, as the slender hand caught him on his shoulder. He turned to see Lyla's flushed face. The Barbie curls around it, popping with every movement she made. Her hand clutched his shirt like she was going to stay there forever, hang down from it like a keychain.

"What is it, doll?" he asked, not even trying to make his voice sound friendly. He put his palm on top of hers, guiding her further into the bar. But she said:

"The studio! It's been busted! We're closed!"

Chibs stopped in his tracks, clutching her hand.

"The- what?"

"She... she came in today, with a bunch of cops, and closed us! She even wanted to arrest me but postponed it, because... because I have to pick up the kids..."

As she was stumbling through her words, Chibs started seeing red.

"What is she? Who is she?" he asked calmly.

"You know", she started fevereshly combing her hair, her fingers trembling. Everything was ruined for her; her only source of income, her job, her stability. But she didn't cry; Lyla rarely cried. She might become hysterical for some time, to work through the initial shock, but she always swam up. So Chibs was patient with her.

"The agent, that bitch that took your bikes".

A sardonic grin pulled on his mouth. The desire for whiskey was now replaced by the need for blood. He could just picture her stupid knowing smile, the eyes that looked at the girls like they were less than, as she was slapping around their bare asses, ordering them to line up for her.

"Did you tell Opie? Jax?"

"Yes, yes, they're at the club", she pointed her finger there, where he was initially going, "they're waiting for you. I was going to ride back to the studio, to see what was left, and..."

He switched off. Tapping her on her bare shoulder covered in goosebumps, whether from cold of distress, he rushed on for the door, pushing it with his shoulder, digging for the cigarette in his pocket.

"Sorry, I'm late", he grumbled as he entered the chapel. A dozen of attentive eyes turned up to him.

"Hey, Chibs. You found Parker?"

"Yes", he said and heavily fell into his chair by Clay's right hand. By the looks of it, the President was just as pissed. His bloodshot eyes told him he didn't get any sleep, either. For the last two weeks all they did was clean up their messes that were blown up like ant houses by June Pallum. They cleaned it up, she went on and blew the next one. After she seized the bikes, they barely made it to the gun deal with the Niners that evening, scurrying for the old, vacant bikes, the cars and the licences for them. The very next day after the deal, before they had a chance to receive the delivery from Ireland, Laroy was arrested for human trafficking. If this was something petty like the stuff she got them for, a parking ticket, debauchery, he would've been out. But June sure struck gold. She couldn't have been working alone: the timing, the charges were too instrumental to be a coincidence. She waited until the deal was through, and they had a warehouse full of fucking military guns, to arrest their buyer. Now, she was free to dance into their garage with their own warrant.

They simply didn't have time for anything else. This morning Chibs spent six hours searching for an obscure replacement for Laroy to sell off the guns to; a risky and unreliable choice, but they now had to get rid of those as soon as possible. The shit was just falling from the sky. The funniest thing was, this was all perfectly legal. None of the regulations of fair labor were upheld in Cara Cara, because working around them was more comfortable for everybody involved. More money for the club, less taxes for Lyla, more breaks and higher pay for the actors.

Listening to the heated complaining around the table was like watching someone cradling their blown off arm. He bit the butt of the cigarette and then killed it in the ashtray, blowing out the smoke through gritted teeth.

"Ya missing the point", he interrupted. Bobby fell silent, his mouth still open as he was in the middle of a rant.

"We need to ask ourselves why it's so easy for... her. It all, what we do, has turned sloppy. Porn studios are legal in the state, but do you ask yourselves why it took one morning to shut it down?"

"Because of all the loops", Jackie supported him. It looked like he was the only one actually paying attention. The others were too preoccupied with the fact that June was too young, that she appeared to suddenly; scared by the three big letters to think straight. This was all true, but besides the point.

"We need to get our shit together. Obviously she doesn't respect any of the agreements we used to have with the city".

"Used to have?" asked Tig unhappily, "You think she's going to go against absolutely everything? That means no more girls in the club".

"That your biggest concern now, Tig?" asked Juice.

Clay was listening quietly, again. Chibs started to suspect that Morrow found it particularly difficult to be disturbed like that by a girl. Gangs, rivals, cops, he could understand. But his mind was struggling to justify the nonsense whose top of the head didn't even reach his chin. It didn't make any sense to him. Instead of looking at the problem at hand, no matter how absurd, he was trying to create the ways how it wasn't what they were seeing. And Chibs was right.

"Tig, Juice, Kozik. Dig into it, find who's the boss. This little fly is starting to piss me off", he boomed. Everybody fell silent.

Chibs rubbed his chin. He exchanged looks with Jackie.

"Clay", he started, but Morrow raised his hand. He struck the gavel. The point was closed.

As the chapel epmtied up, he was still sitting, biting on his busted lip. The shoulder blades had a slow, pleasant ache, because last night, he was unloading these shit trucks full of guns, racing against the time. Now at least he had a minute to breathe.

Jackson left his chair, pushing it away woth force, and walked alongside the table to land across from him. His sky-blue eyes were piercing the man's face.

"I think he's making a mistake".

"You damn right he is", Chibs said. Too tired to focus his eyes again, he was watching the smudges on the table, floating in circles.

"What does it matter who she's working with, how many of them. We need to be one step ahead, clean out our own shit not to give her an opportunity to grab us by the balls".

"Where do we even start?" Jackie said. Then he suddenly grinned. That was true, it was funny. Chibs couldn't hold back a chuckle, too. Yes, she was now in their fruit garden, where illegal activities and violations were hanging for the taking, so low that she didn't even need to stand up on her tiptoes. Every business - smeared with compromises. Every partner they have, with dozens of warrants waiting to be issued on their names. Every building they own - full of ammo, drugs or severed heads. She didn't need to have a boss, a team or an advisor. She just needed on thing: not care about the order of things.

"Why do you think she's doing it? What is she trying to do?"

"I don't buy the sexist shit", Chibs shook his head.

"What sexist shit?" Jackie frowned.

"The morning she took the bikes, she gave me the whole lecture about how we are barbaric, low-IQ, insults to the civilised community or whatever. Said we shouldn't exist because we don't treat our women right".

Chibs allowed a crooked smile across his face, looking at the youngster who huffed.

"Talk about nuance. No, there has to be something else".

"I agree, Jackie. We need to know what this something is. I refuse to believe that the Bureau sends this random ass profiler folicule to clean Charming of one single gang. Sounds funny when I say it".

"What do you think it is then?"

He was watching every move of his face, Chibs realized. It made something crack and heal in his chest, this fact the he missed the moment when Jackie started looking up to him. This was true though; as he was growing up, Jackson first relied on his step-father, but then step-father started falling away. The issue of Clay not being all there was a different story. Jackie then started listening to Bobby, who was always good at telling him when he was stepping wrong. But when did this happen, that he looks at him with this kind of expectation? Waiting for his judgement. He probably knew that Chibs loved him to no end. And Chibs, himself, realized that it wouldn't be long before Jackson was fit to replace Clay. Maybe, if he's the President, shit like this doesn't happen.

"Too early to say. We need to dig, Clay was right about that".

Jackie nodded.

"Dad's trying to make everybody see that he has the biggest balls in town", he said, his lips curling in the expression of resentment. "He's going to try to make everything fix itself by the sheer force of him being the fucking boss of Charming. Like everybody has to respect the way the things are, just because".

"Don't be too harsh on him", Chibs advised, "no matter how badly he does, family goes through three hundred loops".

Teller gave it a pause, his finger nudging someone's cigarette butt around the table.

"What does it mean?"

"You cut off a stranger after one strike. But family gets three hundred".

"It's almost like you don't know my family. They're already on strike four hundred fifteen".

They laughed again.

Nobody wanted to go see the police. For the obvious reason that they were all afraid that, should it be them to go, they will smother the bitch upon seeing her. They had to draw the short match, and Juice had the end of the stick. Together with Lyla and Opie, he was elected to go to the station and bargain the studio back. Not even sure it would work; but there were certain regulations that could still save the business. Thus, even before dinner time, the two thousand hole turned into twenty thousand. And all they had left to do was drink. Chibs, however, was thinking about his own little hunt. Mindhunter. Mindreader. These were the words floating around his head as he finally got to the bar, hugging the bottle, his savior. First, he needed to check with Ally, see how she's doing about Laroy. He didn't have a lot of hope about it; Laroy wasn't one of them, wasn't her client. She was already doing them a huge favor by getting involved with this. Perhaps they could pull her from him and guide onto the studio. After all, Parker was going to buy off all of the guns tomorrow.

Chibs started to return to June's file like it was his nighttime story for bed. Memorizing every ambiguous line, trying to read between them, see the clues in the numbers.

Twenty-nine, with three serial killers in jail under her name. As far as he knew, sometimes it took tens of years to catch even one. This devilish determination could mean rotten trouble. She caught the Florida Cutter. Chibs remembered him, from the news. This was a big case around five years ago. The guy who cut out women's eyes. It took almost thirteen years to catch him, and this little shitter was the one? She was only twenty-four back then. Nobody should even have taken her seriously at that time in the Bureau. She might have something behind those cherry eyes, boring him from the picture. Maybe she's gone through some crazy trauma or something. Shit like this usually motivates girls to overachieve to the ends of the world.

And the dog test. p a s s e d t h e d o g t e s t. What does it mean?

He took a sip and looked around the bar at the boys. Happy was picking his nose, Bobby at his side, telling him something. Jackson on the phone. Lyla gathering her stuff, lighter, phone, bronzer or some shit, all in different spots. Always left her shit lying around, happy, vibrant girl. Juice was pacing at the door, a stark contrast to Opie who waited like a security guard. Clay was nowhere to be seen. They were on their own.

"Still readin?" Tig slapped him across the back, and Chibs hissed like a hyena.

"Yes, a word a day", he snapped.

"What are you hoping to see there?" without waiting for an answer, he plopped himself onto a stool next to him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"You know what I was thinking? We gang up on her. Problem solved".

Chibs slowly moved his eyes onto his face. Sometimes he wanted to poke out his stupid peepers.

"Gang up on her, huh?"

"Yeah. Gang rape. I bet you she won't be as cocky after it. Fuck all that smug out of her".

He had to let the flare pass over his body first, to calm down a little. Then he felt his neck crook like he was an actual desert dog:

"That's just a great idea, Tig".

His face lit up.

"You think?"

"Yes. This kind of great ideas put us in the kind of shit we're in now. Gang rape, what a marvelous initiative. Let's just fuck her in all of her holes because this won't have any consequences. It's not like she's with FBI or anything. Because Sam Crow is built exactly on these values: gang bang any bitch who comes our way the wrong way".

Tig blinked with one eye. He noticed Chibs' jaw tighten and pulled the bottle from his hand.

"Alright, it was a joke. Don't need to get all fired up about this".

Chibs returned to the file that still didn't have to say anything. He closed it, unable to look her in the face. He couldn't shun this picture out of his head now, implanted there by fucking Tig. Something about this was very wrong. Now, choking her, with her clothes on, that was another matter. He closed his eyes, relaxing on the stool, picturing himself squeeze the life out of her. That's better.

"I'm not really going to rape anybody. If I want to, I can get any woman in this town, no force applied. You gotta see the difference between jokes and reality, dude".

"Please, shut up", he whispered.

Jackson was pacing across the parking lot towards the blue Toyota that was swerving into a spot. He raised his hand and waved it, wondering what this Parker would look like. The voice on the phone sounded youthful and wicked, but the guy looked nothing like that. A bit overweight but handsome in all accords, he got out of the car and closed the door with a swing of a person who was about to enjoy his day.

"Morning!" Jax yelled. Parker greeted him with a tip of an invisible hat. This was bad; clownish behavior didn't mean good business. But he had to make it work. Wouldn't get another chance.

They finally shook hands. Parker had light green eyes that he raised to the sky, to look at the clouds.

"Nice weather in California, huh?"

"You had a good ride?"

"Long, hot, and without sleep, thank you", the man smiled. Jax gestured towards the clubhouse,

"Coffee? Breakfast? Let's talk after you've relaxed a little".

His ears moved towards the sound of the end of the world. Light tap-tap-tap.

"Good morning, gents".

The voice he was now listening to in his disgusting nightmares.

"Oh, for fuck's sake", he moaned, turning to her. June tried a solemn expression on her face.

"What's the matter with me, I keep hearing this all the time now, wherever I go".

He clenched his jaws, thinking as fast as he could, but nothing except curses came to mind.

"Maybe it's a sign, agent".

"Hi, I'm agent Pallum", she held her hand out to Parker. Jax slapped it away in the last desperate attempt to shield the buyer from this soul-sucker. Parker bat his eyes at her.

"Are you here to buy the guns?"

"The guns?" Parker asked innocently.

"Yes, big Irish guns".

Jax was glad that this dude was quick-thinking.

"What are you talking about, agent?" he tuned in. "What guns? This is a car service point".

June looked genuinely lost for a second, only to reveal a sly frown.

"Oh, silly me. I must be at the wrong garage!"

All three of them gave a polite laugh, musles tense. Jax felt the vein beating on his temple.

"So, you must be the other Alex Parker, not the leader of the 'White South' movement?"

"No, miss, you must be mistaking me with somebody", Parker said politely. "But I'm afraid I haven't seen your badge".

Jax was seeing red. She knew the name, the time and the place. She knew she didn't need to find the guns per se, just to upset the deal. She slid her hand into the back pocket of her jeans and produced her badge.

"FBI, huh?" Parker chuckled. His eyes darted to Jax who was silently begging him. Begging. The man started inching back towards his car. Jax tried to move his head, swing it on his neck half an inch, but the fish was wiggling off the hook.

"Yes. So what's wrong with your car, mister Parker?"

"Breaks", he said shortly, "but seeing as some commotion is up today, I think I might have to find a different car repair for myself".

"There's one three streets away, Lindon and Brothers".

"Thanks, agent".

"You're welcome", she followed him until he was in the car again, placing her palm on the roof.

"Don't run into an accident, mister Parker".

Her polite smile was reflected in the dark window. Blue Toyota started again, and they both stepped away to let it out of the spot.

Jackson was watching his best chance at avoiding the shitstorm drive out of the lot. He could feel his hands turn into fists in the pockets of his pants. By themselves.

June shifted her weight from one foot to another.

"Six fucking am. You couldn't have it a bit later?" she asked. Jax couldn't unglue his jaws. He specifically made it so early to avoid her.

"I need a coffee".

She had the audacity to turn around and walk towards the bar.

"You're not getting anything in my bar!" he yelled. June stopped, her eyebrow raised, like he was the one who's insane.

"You're not keeping the guns right there, are you? You're not a complete idiot?"

He followed her, his legs moving out of his volition. He wanted to just lie on the ground for some time, to think. Maybe they can just drown the guns. In a swamp somewhere. Maybe they can drown her there, too. The swamp, it devours the body, you can't find it. She'll just disappear.

The bar was quiet now, everybody at the ready, in warehouse, waiting for them. The plan was to treat Parker to a breakfast here, discuss the price, and then drive him out of town. He pulled the phone and stabbed the buttons to start a call. Without losing her out of sight, he stopped at the door and fell onto the bench, waiting for an answer.

June, meanwhile, pulled the door opened. The last time she entered the bar, she was a promising, bouncy whore. Now she wore a turtleneck and dark-grey jeans, and on the belt of those, she had a holster complete with a gun.

As she entered, she was presented with an unpleasant sight: two blondes, one of them Lyla, in the danger-aware positions on the two sides of the bar. Bobby on a stool, with his hands up, yelling promises at the second blonde, the one closer to the door, who held up a gun. Her nose was bleeding.

"I am already coming back, Jackie, almost at the parking lot", said Chibs on the phone. "Happy fucking vomited. I need to fetch his medicine".

"He was drinking last night, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, it's the nerves".

Jax turned his gaze towards the gates, expecting to see his bike riding in.

"We're screwed, Chibs", he uttered.

"No worries, Jackie. We'll find someone else".

"How? She's already here".

The call ended as Chibs rolled into the garage territory. Jax stood up to walk to meet him when he heard a scream from the bar.

"And who the fuck are you? Another fucking girlfriend?" Ima yelled. June couldn't hold back a grimace.

"Jesus Christ. Why do you all have a problem with dying the roots?" she inquired. Ima shook the gun, clearly at the end of her patience. June evaluated the situation: unstable lady with a small caliber, one of the idiots at the bar, useless, drunk from the night, and Lyla, just there. The black eye of the barrel was pointing at her. At six am. It made her angry.

"Don't approach! You're the FBI bitch", proclaimed Ima.

"The BAU bitch", she muttered tiredly.

June assumed a more stable position.

"Turn the gun away from me", she warned. Ima didn't seem to hear her. But it was annoying that every time she was here, something wild was going down.

"On your knees!" Ima demanded. June stepped to her. The gun jumped up and down, like it was nodding in acknowledgement. June ducked and hit her on the elbow from below, seizing the weapon and pushing it away, then twisted her arm. Ima yelped in pain. June couldn't stop herself, bringing her down on the floor and twisting it just a little further, to release the anger. There was no crack, but she shook her well, pushing her away with her foot.

Lyla produced a shriek-like sound, unsure of which direction to move. Ima was sobbing on the floor. And there was nobody behind the bar. June rubbed her forehead, looking at Bobby who was still sitting on a stool, one hand in the air. She groaned quietly, deciding on another place, and left the bar.

As she saw the light again, it was violently interrupted by a black flash. Like she ran into a tree. She stumbled on her feet, catching herself on the nearby table, but still collapsed on the floor.

"Found anything interesting?"

June blinked a couple of times, holding herself up on the elbow. The hit was so refreshing that she saw colors much birghter now. This dude. The iron dude. He was standing above her, Jackson Teller behind his back, like he had summoned his dad to protect himself. She laughed out at this picture, and yelped at the same time: her nose stung.

"You should be serving coffee at this time of day", she uttered, holding her palm at her face.

"The only thing you'll be served is me fist", he replied. June got up. Lyla stumbled out of the bar.

"Yeah, get that, bitch", she roared. June dropped her jaw in amusement and surprise: she neutralized the girl who was about to shoot this idiot!

She sniffed, surrounded by these people who hated her so intensely it was almost sexual. She especially didn't like the kind of look Telford gave her. Like he was trying to stomp her out with his eyes.

"You got a reason to be here?" he asked.

"I got a reason to arrest you for attacking an agent on duty", she said, breathless. She was finally up, reevaluating everything she was preparing herself for. If one loving slap of a wrist blasts her into the ground so hard that her body leaves an impression - she needs to change the tactic. Maybe she should start carrying a knife with her, think about the close range weapon. Chibs stepped up to her, eyelids lazy, giving him the jaded look of a killer.

"Then arrest me. You got a car to drive me to the station?"

Ima finally got up from the floor by the sound of it. She was looking for the gun. Lyla jumped out and hopped towards Jackson. June's hand reached for the holster out of habit. But the girl just whined, gun hanging soggily from her hand, as she left the doors and walked past all of them, unnoticing.

"I have no wish to see any more of you small dick jerking asshole today", June admitted.

"Then vanish", Jax said. June nodded. It was quite humiliating to be honest, the walk of shame in Ima's steps. The blood was dripping from her nose onto her turtleneck and jeans. Assaulted officer, she could actually take him away for some time. Even give him a good charge. Maybe a couple of years in prison. To avoid them, a great deal with DA. That she would burn up and put him away for even longer. Her car was parked outside the gates; she wouldn't risk it getting vandalized or even getting locked in here. It's incredible how childish those criminals were, about the illegal things they did. That's the thing she was always amazed at. How little self-awareness they have.

They had to regroup. Come on now, Chibs, he thought. You got this. Just a quick plan B. Problem was, they didn't have it.

He was chainsmoking, sitting on the sofa arm while Gemma was in the shower. Studying the pattern of the carpet. Sharp tipped leaves and oranges on the brown background. Someone banged on the door, and he went to open.

"Mexicans agreed", Juice was panting, "Jax dropped the price about three times, but they agreed".

Chibs closed his eyes. His hand grabbed the boy by the neck and pressed against his body.

"Thank fuck, Juicie, thank fuck".

He decided not to bother Gemma, left her a message on the phone, and set off with Juice. The drop was in three hours. This was the closest to the complete disaster they've been in months. They sent Happy and Tig to the station; a couple of Prospects headed to her house to guard June even if it meant nailing her hands to the floor. The police didn't give a shit. It was only when she gathered them in a team that the everyday business became a problem suddenly.

The world was delightfully purple while they drove towards the warehouse. They also had to move the storage to a new one, outside of the city. They now worked overtime. No sleep at all. Everybody was angry. But Chibs felt good, for once. At least he guided some of his frustration onto her today, so she fucked off hopefully. Drew some blood, which was proof that she was human. The brat occupied his thoughts like a tiresome burden. At the same time it was a welcome challenge - he wouldn't tell that to anyone, of course. He was the kind of person to welcome change, especially if it was a change for the better. Maybe it was high time they finally got their shit together. The talks of going legit have been floating around for years, all to no avail. Sometimes it took one bloodsucking bug to get you straight. Not like that, of course. The stress was wearing them out. Their ego was being attacked. But her bleeding nose was a pleasant sight, raw, almost beautiful. She was a good-looking girl. Shame that she came from hell.

"You think we're okay for tonight?"

"I hope she stays at home mending her nose", Chibs replied. Juice shifted in his passenger seat, black spears moving with sweat on his skull.

"Don't wiggle. Don't worry. Keep on the course".

"Okay. How are you staying so calm? If it goes wrong, we'll lose so much money".

"It's going to be okay, Juice. Just go by the plan. We'll figure it out. Three foot world".

"What's a three foot world?"

Only focus on things that are at your reach if you want to succeed. The things you can reach for with your hand. June's nose was wheezing a little, but the pain ceased. The bruise might manifest, but it's not broken. She went to the bathroom for the third time this day, because it kept bleeding. Captain tried to send her home, what a joke of an excuse. They knew, that she knew, that Mexicans are with CIA. And she knew about the drop later tonight because the said Mexicans called her up to warn her. Finally her actions became clearer for everybody, and they stopped treating her like she was some kind of a gift for the station. Gradually the courteous admiration turned into a polite wariness, then, finally, friendly warnings. Don't bust that business, June. It's half-legit. Don't arrest that person. He works with the DA and feeds the info on gangs. No, she didn't care. And they finally were getting ahold of that. Needless to say, Captain quietly let go of his promise to find her an office. He caught her when she was leaving the bathroom.

"June!"

She winced, shifting in her jeans, unpleasant cold in the spot where she was trying to wash off the blood furiously.

"I'm not going home", she sang, moving on. Boulder caught up with her.

"But you're not going to the drop tonight, either, right?"

She looked into his face. Will her body withstand another altercation today? Sure, why not. She had slept about five hours, it was nice. The collision actually seemingly energized her. She was absorbing the pain. The cruelty. The hatred. And converting it into energy. Didn't even feel hungry, only carried on on coffee, and it was already four o'clock.

"Well, no, if that's what you want to hear".

"Listen", Captain shook her by the shoulder firmly, "you can't interfere with their CIA operations. It's final. We're working in a bulk here".

"Is this an order?"

"You know damn well I can't order you. But what I can do is call your superior".

"I have no superior", she said simply. Boulder's jaw unhinged with the unspoken question.

"I left the department, didn't I tell you?"

"Wh..."

"I'm a nomad agent at the moment. Kind of... nowhere at all. I'm in between titles", she nodded to herself. She didn't wish to startle or offend him. Boulder was trying really hard to hold everything together, he was a nice man. To her displeasure she found out that this town was full of pleasant and rational people. But her inner dedication was just a little stronger than all that.

"So, what the hell are you even doing here?" Captain asked, aghast.

"This is my case. I've got it from the city last year. Been working for it for a long time. Call it my passion project".

He gathered himself back together.

"So, this is not an order from above".

"No, no. I thought I made it clear in my application".

"It was written so convolutedly, it's impossible to read", he nagged. "And you mean to tell me that all this shit you've been stirring, it's just for your own kicks?"

"Not at all. SAMCRO is just a bunch of criminals. Vile shit for Charming. I do it for the city".

Boulder's face was distorted, changing expressions like channels on TV. His lips moving, disbelief written all over.

"That makes... you get no team. If you go there, June, you go alone. You got it?"

"Yeah, sure", she agreed. "No team".

He left her, retreated into his office and probably started making calls. He wouldn't get anything more than 'yeah, right' from them. She had this one right, to choose cases now, because she'd earned it. When she thought about this, she usually scratched at the scar on her elbow. Pondering, she returned to her desk and sat down, feeling for the airpods case.

No team means no result. But she can't let this opportunity to hurt them slide. Even if she's just an inconvenience that makes them tip off and argue, that's good. It doesn't take long for a bucn of people like that to implode. Her ears moved with the rattling sound of motorcycle engines outside. She jumped up, gathered her stuff and ran for the back door.

Chibs lifted up his purple glasses onto his forehead.

"What a nice weather", he murmured. Bobby hummed approvingly. "I wish it was always mild like that".

"Amen, brother".

The round man stepped to and fro, finishing his smoke. They were scanning the lot with their eyes. Big old warehouse, essentially stables, stood above them like a mountain; even if there was sun, at this time it would be overshadowed. Looming above the lot like it was giving shelter. Jax and Clay were speaking about something quietly aside.

"They're coming!" yelled Kozik. Everybody changed their poses. Shoulders up, backs straight, necks squashed like they were turtles. Someone spat on the ground for good luck. Chibs and Bobby moved like the hands of the clock to greet the two cars with their backs to the warehouse.

They watched the Mexicans emerge from the vehicles, glasses glistening, smiles on their faces. Yeah, anybody would smile for the deal like that. 70% discount for a hundred guns. It could have been the most embarrassing moment this year. He was observing them as Clay shook Romero's hand, Jackie pacing behind his back. The lion cub was impatient for action, every day he was all springs in legs for doing the things differently from his step-father.

Not even ten minutes in, the sound of the car. A Chevy Malibu, the color of cherries, swerved on the dirt road, finally making it into the lot.

Jackson's head snapped towards him as his arms fell down from his chest. He couldn't believe it. Chibs showed his teeth. They all, CIA included, watched the small frame of this girl leaving her car, her hand snapping the door closed. The sunglasses, the jeans from morning, Chibs couldn't believe any of it. He grabbed Bobby by the collar, like he was to blame for it. But Bobby understood. He tapped on his fist, and Chibs pushed against him, giving himself a start.

"I'll deal with it", he rumbled, passing Jax by. She was walking towards them, her hand waving like she was joining a party. Chibs clocked the gun in the holster, and a pretty addition: knife in a thigh rig. He didn't give her time to say anything, simply grabbed her by the neck, his hand snaking in a flash towards her gun. June tried for the knife, but he was quicker again, still holding her almost above the ground. Having her unweaponed, he then took her by the shoulder and dragged.

"All good", he waved at the party, "continue".

"Isn't that Pallum?" Romero asked. Clay gave the pair a tired look.

"Yeah, sticking her nose into the littlest of our daily business".

Romero frowned.

"We did warn her against showing up. It's the conflict of agencies. She is aware of what we're doing here".

Jackson nodded.

"We're starting to think she's rabid".

Chibs dragged her into the warehouse, only a little resistance on the way. Her hands clenched on his forearm, nails digging into the brown leather of his jacket. He pushed her in the back, then took out her knife from his harness where he'd put it.

"How's your nose, sweetheart?"

She found balance again and looked around.

"Hurts a little. Why?"

"Wanna more? Move", he ordered.

June started walking into the depth of the warehouse. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to put her here, where all the fucking guns were. But she wasn't supposed to be here to begin with.

"What exactly is your problem?" he asked, pointing her knife at her. "To the wall. Walk over to the bar".

June was walking, her back forward, looking at her weapon in his hand.

"Do you even know how to use this thing?" he nudged her. "A good trailing blade. Might hurt yourself".

"Give it back to me and I'll show you", she promised. Chibs shook his head. He removed a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket and shook them at her. As he approached, she kicked him, but not too successfully. It's like she wasn't even trying. Chibs pushed her legs with his knee, knife at her throat, and hit her in the shoulder to slow down. After a little struggle, one handcuff was in place around her wrist, and he had to put away the knife, because obviously it wasn't working on her. She got cut a little just below her ear and didn't feel it. Tugging on her left braid, he jerked her head to disorient her. He didn't like the way her hair felt in his palm. Silky, slender. He clicked the second handcuff on the bar, screwed into the wall, and stepped away at once not to get kicked again. He valued his balls very much.

"What is even your point here?" he asked, genuinely curious, "Coming alone to the drop where you know CIA will be. You got nothin' else to do?"

She was panting, fidgeting with the cuffs, looking just a little wild. Her eyes were rolling.

"The point is", she said through her teeth, "being as infuriating as possible".

Chibs turned away to join the others. He needed just about five minutes without her, to think what to do. When she spat into his back:

"Especially to fucking imbeciles like you".

Sometimes the scars on his cheeks felt like whiskers. They tugged his lips when he didn't want to smile. But guess that was the point of the Glasgow Smile. He mustered his patience to look at her again. She was tugging at the cuffs, as if measuring them. Her fingers working at the metal screws.

"You got no life. No family, you pathetic bitch. And your hobby is - this?"

"You have no idea the things I have for you and your miserable, cretinous crooks for friends. Is that what you call a family?" she pronounced slowly, showing him her teeth. Chibs couldn't look away from what she was doing with her hands.

"A bunch of low-life, vomit inducing drunks, kicking their girlfriends in their uteruses, dusty, greasy, big road cowboy imitating taints", as she was spitting the insults, it was like she was growing. Chibs was paralyzed by this absurd sight, the hatred that was enlarging like a ball of fire. She fixated her hand against the bar and pulled on her thumb. Gritting her teeth, she cracked it. Chibs' lower jaw started producing the sour saliva of pain because watching it was like watching a gory movie. Her braids swinging against her shoulders as she pressed her eyes closed for a second, taking in what must be severe, sharp shock of ache.

"Feral bitch", he uttered under his breath. His limbs were frozen. June was moving in slow motion, the feelings he was getting were particularly indescribable. All the while she darted for the gun he so carelessly dropped onto the box five steps away. Before he could do anything, even close his mouth, she pointed the gun and him and started shooting.

Bang, bang, bang, thankfully his body was used to this sound. He ducked and squatted, hiding himself behind a box of ammo. June walked the straight line, unloading a magazine into the box. He had to act, or she'd kill him here, he wouldn't be able to take the humiliation. Crawling around the box, he circled her and grabbed a handful of sand and hay. He waited until he saw her legs and kicked her, sending the hay into her face. They clashed, and jumped out again. There were the gunshots from the outside, again. Heard from all directions. Screams, the sound of screeching wheels. Perhaps someone else heard about their big discounts and trouble with selling the guns. Maybe June herself let the Niners know. He heard her moan lightly, like a kitten: she located the thumb back into place. Things started gathering into the picture for him. The walls crackled and groaned with the bullets flying through. The echo of wooden bars and metal boxes made it into cacophony.

Suddenly she was at his side, again. Chibs reached for the gun, but June pulled herself on top of him, they both trying to be closer to the ground. She felt him up, searching for her trailing knife. Chibs held the barrel of his gun against her ribs, but she probably barely felt it. Her face was disfigured from some hidden emotion that he couldn't place. The blade flashed in the light from the ceiling, so quickly, that he didn't even blink. Then it slid against his cheek, just above his old scar.

"That's for my nose". He could barely hear her voice in the loud banging. Then she stood up completely and started off.

"They're shooting, June!" he screamed. She was already at the door, simply lucky not to get snagged. She looked back at him before leaving the warehouse.

Chibs was left sitting there, the cut pulsating, hand holding the gun, dick hard.