#ignore that this once said pre af twice

[orangerosebush]

At my core, I am a lover of the trope-y, the trite, and the sitcom-esque. Therefore I won’t apologize for secretly desiring a short story, set post-AF but pre-TFT, of the Blue Diamond Academy finally getting wind of the Situation that is Artemis and the Butler siblings. I want a former teacher of Butler to be roughly three seconds from getting on a plane to have a breakdown in front of the bodyguard about Majorly Whiffing It re: the (both written and unwritten)* code of conduct the man’s been selectively ignoring for the past decade and a half.

*** with the “written” code here being in reference to the insight we get from Butler in TEC about what kinds of professional barriers people in his role need to uphold to remain effective as bodyguards.

[feysandfeels]

ACOTAR dudes and how much they care about their ✨aesthetic✨

Lucien: He cares, do you think his hair is shinny and silky just by Cauldron’s grace? no it isn’t. He has a routine and a secret conditioner that gives it a golden-like shine, he won’t share it with anyone, no Cassian, stop asking. He knows what colors work with his complexion and what silhouettes enhance his not buff but very defined muscles in a subtle yet you can’t ignore it way. He knows what works, but he’s the best at making it seem like he doesn’t know and it’s just how he woke up. Lucien has the what I just rolled out of bed and put the first thing on really vibe nailed to perfection

Rhys: He cares a lot and he knows you know and he doesn’t care. Self proclaimed Prythian’s hottest High Lord will drop on you his 15 step skin care routine, will facemask twice a week, homemade, with plants, herbs, roots and fruits courtesy of Elain’s garden, how do you think I don’t have wrinkles with all the stress and anxiety I constantly have; and will give you a closet tour of all his black suits if you ask.. and he will judge you if you think they are all black and the same. How dare you this is not “black” this is ebony, this other one is raven, my absolute favorite is midnight (duh), then we have sable and obsidian. That high fae given eyesight really got wasted on you. And also, Feyre where is my ink black suit?// I left it on the bed //no that’s not it, that’s my jade black suit, honestly woman.

Cassian: Doesn’t really care, but he looks nice and will make an effort when required. I mean he has a couple of suits, they hug his ass and that’s all he cares about. Used to have an all in shampoo conditioner, until Mor and Rhys  bullied him into getting a shampoo and a conditioner. Even Az was like Bro, c’mon. Each one of them got Cass hair products for winter solstice once. Now his man bun is as nice ass his other man bun. Tried asking Lucien for his secret, what secret this is just how I woke up. The definition of scrubs up hella nice. Perfect mixture of nice but rough on the edges with a 5pm shadow, hair down (or in the preferred man bun) and a delicious suit. Will always always roll up his sleeves. He knows what it does to the people. Ok whore. Very much into skin brushing. He said no to dead skin cells and yes to good circulation. Weekly massages. The body is a temple ok?

Azriel: He wants you to think he doesn’t care, but he does and he will spend time getting ready for the events, more than he will ever admit. Listen if Lucien is the 10/10 you would never guess that he actually pays attention to this, then Az is like the 8/10. A man of details and has a great eye for color and pattern combinations. No you will not ever catch him in a full bright colored suit, but he enjoys going for different textures and colors albeit dark ones. He looks particularly good in blue and green. Once Mor asked him to accompany her to an event and he came in wearing a merlot velvet three piece suit and no one has been able to stop talking about it.It’s been three centuries. My man served. He will coordinate with you in a subtle way like did they plan that or?? He knows the value of a good aesthetic, but won’t go raving about it, like a certain High Lord.

Helion: KING OF AESTHETIC. COMMITTED TO HIS AESTHETIC FROM HEAD TO TOE, TO HIS HOUSE AND PEGASUS(ES) AND CHARIOTS AND ALL. Not a hair out of fucking place. Sweatpants? I don’t know them. Ew. One must always dress to impress. What do I wear when I want to chill? have you ever worn a toga? It’s either a Toga or nothing, I happen to have nothing in my rooms. Will host parties where the dress code is bohemian chic meets royaltycore, and everyone is like ????????????????????????

Kallias: I mean yes I want to look good, yes I will dress up when the occasion calls for it. But generally speaking no one has ever achieved the balance between comfort and put together like Kallias. Also immaculate immaculate skin. Big believer in face rollers and gua shas. Gave each member of the Night Court their own set, they all deeply appreciate it. 

Tarquin: Of course I fucking care, but the Cauldron did not give me these looks for nothing so I won’t do much really. Sunblock and water. Will, however, try out new styles here and there, in the privacy of his own home and court and if they prove to be a success, then you will see him wearing that to the official Prythian meetings. Will do a 180 on you and appear proper af during the meetings, but in the parties he will show up wearing exquisite jewellery and a long skirt. Dude can rock a skirt. Dude also wears dresses. Looks nice. Will most definitely outshine you. Will neither confirm nor deny that once Az approached him asking him where he got that dress. Will always get the assignment when it comes to Helion’s parties.

Jurian: Pre-amarantha accessory used to be a I have a set of fighting clothes/armour whatever, and the nicer set of those for *political* occasions kinda dude. Post amarantha accessory is more like maybe I will invest in that nice jacket green jacket with gold details, fuck you vassa I did not buy it to match Lucien.

Tamlin: Will show up to the MET Gala in a “black” tuxedo regardless of the theme. 

[getyallsshippingjuice]

Complete

(This is romantic Remus and Roman you have been warned.)

(Pre series) He had been alone in the imagination. Well as alone as he gets surrounded by fake citizens. The point was there were no other sides there with him. Logan and Patton never really spent much time with him and he wasn’t allowed to see any of the others. So he was alone, as he had been for the past week.

He decided to throw a party to cheer himself up, a masquerade since he felt like it. He dressed up for it in a black and red suit, a change of pace from his white and red prince suit. Sometimes the white was just too bright and it lacked depth.

Either way he danced with figments not a word spoken. They never had anything interesting to say when he knew what they were going to say. That was until one wearing a puffy green shirt and black pants took his hand and spun him around. “You come here often?”

Was he...flirting? Roman smirked, “Once or twice.” The man was wearing a frilly black mask that made his eyes look intense. He wasn’t following the script that Roman had made up in his head. The only time things happened off script was when he needed something new to happen.

So he went with it.

“You seem upset.” The man commented tilting his head slightly to the side. His red eyes staring deep into Roman’s green ones. “Is the party boring?”

“Of course not! This is..fun.” Roman said, his voice sounding fake to even himself.

The man hummed. "You don't sound sure."

"I'm having fun." Roman said firmly more to confirm if to himself than to this random guy.

“I know how to make it more fun.” the man said with a wink. Roman stared at him for a second before sputtering.

“Oh..that’s...not..I mean. No thank you.” Roman said, causing the man to laugh.

Roman smiled for real for the first time in a long time.

---

Janus told him to stay away from the others but the imagination was his place even if he normally didn’t leave his side. So when he finds out that Roman is throwing himself another pity party he has to check it out.

He didn’t expect to actually feel bad for Roman. He didn’t expect to see Roman looking depressed af and wandering around silently. He also didn’t expect that he didn’t make himself the center of attention. He was just...sad

So he swept over and drug Roman into conversion as they danced simply to the music that played. He stared when he managed to get Roman to smile. It was so..pure. Just pure happiness. No twisted thoughts poorly hidden underneath.

Maybe it was impulsive but that’s what he did. He kissed him wondering if he could taste the happiness that wasn’t tainted by some negative emotion. He felt Roman stiffen before relaxing into the kiss. Remus pulled back. “Sorry. I should have asked.” Roman had just declined his offer and he went ahead anyway.

Roman blinked before opening his mouth but no sound came out. Remus smirked, “I didn’t think that would make you speechless.” He teased.

Roman teared up and Remus panicked. He didn’t mean to cause him to cry! He took a step back and Roman took the chance to disappear into the crowd, Remus tried to follow him only to find him gone. He cursed before leaving.

He tore the mask off and threw it on his floor. “Stupid.” He muttered falling face first onto his bed. At least Roman didn’t know that it was him.

---

Roman felt awful for running but he didn’t want his first kiss to be with someone fake. Not that he wanted to kiss Patton or Logan. He didn’t really have anyone he did want to kiss. But he didn’t want it to be fake. He wanted it to matter and not be some glitch in a script.

His fingers traced his lips, the ghost feeling of the kiss messing with him. Even if it was fake..He wanted to do it again. He wanted to talk to that guy again. He seemed more real, more put together than anyone else he ever made. He wondered if maybe Remus made him and he just wandered over. That would explain the bluntness.

He looked at himself in the mirror, what was the harm in a little fantasy? As long as Remus didn’t find out about it, or any of the others for that matter. He could keep a secret.

It would be fun and maybe make him feel less lonely.

A couple weeks passed before he got the nerve to throw another party and hope that HE would show up again. He called himself for stupid for looking forward to it. To see someone that was practically a living puppet to fill an empty space, but he needed someone in that space. And if that was a made up mystery man then he would take it.

God he was desperate wasn’t he?

He was pulled from his thoughts as there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned and lit up as the man was there, mask and all. “Miss me?” He asked confidently.

Roman laughed, “You wish.” He did but he wasn’t going to just say that! He didn’t want to seem desperate even if this was fake. Roman held out his hand, “Care for a dance?”

The man took his hand, “Only if I get to lead.”

They moved in sync. “I don’t know what to call you.” Roman mused not noticing the man stiffen. “I’ve been calling you Mask in my head which is rather silly.”

“Mask works.” He said smiling. Roman huffed.

“So I don’t get to know your name?”

“You’ll have to earn that.” Mask winked and Roman’s heart did a little stutter. He brushed it off by laughing lightly hoping that Mask didn’t pick up on his nerves. Why was he so nervous?

“Then I will endeavour to do so.” Roman vowed as he let himself be turned in a circle. Mask’s eyes were glued to his face as they danced. He almost never blinked which was a little unnerving but if Remus did make him then that was to be expected. Mask might go psycho on him at any moment.

Still more fun than listening to Logan and Patton. They never wanted to really listen to him and seemed to think they were better because their jobs were more important. He was too in the clouds and his expectations for events were too unreal.

He was just for fun. He didn’t get to speak on important matters.

“Are you ok? You got quiet.” Mask said. Roman noticed they stopped dancing, standing in the middle of the dance floor.

Roman shook his head. “My apologies, I was just...thinking.”

“Spew it out.” Mask said cheerfully leading him away from the crowd and into the garden.

“I guess...I mean I shouldn’t complain.” Roman said. He wasn’t sure that mask wouldn’t just tell Remus everything he said. He didn’t want his brother laughing at him, but then again he probably already was. Remus was probably laughing his ass off at the fact that Roman kissed Mask. Or not he hadn't seen his brother in so long he didn't know what Remus was like now days. Probably just as bloody and violent as he used to be.

“It’s good to get things off your chest before you explode.” Mask said sitting them down on a bench.

“No one listens to me!” Roman said angrily. “I mean I get it! I’m not important or real enough but my opinion should matter too!”

“You think people don’t listen to you?” Mask said in an almost angry tone.

Roman rubbed his face and slumped in on himself. “I know they don’t. I told Logan the same story four times and he still doesn’t remember what it’s about. And Patton..Don’t even get me started on how I can’t get anything right for him! That story is too sad! It needs a happy ending!”

Roman sighed and shook his head. “Maybe I’m the problem.”

Mask was silent. Roman didn’t expect advice from him, at least useful advice. “I think...You need a friend.”

“Are you offering?” Roman said off hand.

“Yeah...yeah I am.” Mask’s gaze was intense. Almost threatening. Roman still expected him to try and stab him in his sleep.

“Well… it’s nice to have a friend then.” Roman said honestly. Even if it's fake.

---

Remus was almost skipping around his room. Roman wanted to spend time with him! Well… He wanted to spend time with Mask but that was close enough for him! He could keep toning it down so he didn’t push Roman away.

He sat down on his bed and stared at the mask in his hands, the key to what might actually be a real friendship. Not like what he had now with everyone slightly afraid of him. Or ignoring him. Or hating him.

He felt a little bad that he was lying to Roman about it but that was easily brushed off. Roman didn’t need to know and besides, Roman was lonely too! This would be fine!

He put the mask on his nightstand as he got up to work on a random thought he wanted to follow. A painting of Roman alone in the dark. The pull to create was almost impossible to ignore. He painted with his fingers, letting the colors blur at the edges making it seem like some kind of melting nightmare.

He sat back to look at his newest masterpiece and found himself smiling, He wanted to see his brother again. Of course he would have to wait, which was hell for him to do but looking at the painting again, he found he had something to do to fill his time.

---

Roman was sitting in his room sketching mindlessly for a while before he realized that he was drawing the same pair of eyes surrounded by black lace over and over again. Those eyes that he knew he had seen before, but couldn’t place. It felt like someone he hadn’t seen in forever. Someone he missed.

Roman felt guilty again for letting himself indulge in whatever this was. Romantic encounters with someone that wasn’t real. But he was the romantic side, he thrived off of romance so it was just...in his nature to do this…. Right?

He could almost hear Patton telling him off for being selfish and doing something like this. Logan calling it a needless waste of time just like he was. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, muttering under his breath as he saw wet spots on his drawing from tears.

And Patton was supposed to be the emotional one.

Roman paused before grabbing a canvas. If he was going to make art of Mask he was going to make it good damn it! The lines were clear and bright, before long Roman had a painting of Mask smiling at him in a soft candle lit setting, one hand outstretched. The shadows are soft and non threatening. He looks like someone Roman could trust.

Someone he could love.

Waiting a week to see him again was going to be hard.

---

Roman saw Mask first this time. The party wasn't a masquerade but he still wore his mask. He was dressed in white and sea green this time. An octopus ring circling his thumb. There wasn't any doubt in Roman's mind that Mask was made by Remus. He was honestly impressed that Mask had so much deepth. If he could, he would ask Remus how he made him.

Pushing that thought out of his head he walked up and tapped Mask's shoulder. Mask turned to look at him and had a smile on that was borderline demenated. “You came!” They both said at the same time causing them to laugh.

“Well it is my party.” Roman said, “But I did it to see you.”

Mask, for the first time, was speechless and Roman counted that as a win in his book. “I wonder if we could go for a walk instead of dancing?” Roman asked.

Mask nodded, “As long as you’ll be there it sounds great.” Roman turned away so that Mask couldn’t see his face warming.

“I’ll lead the way.”

It took a moment to calm down and he could swear he heard Mask snicker behind him. He cleared his throat as he turned away and almost jumped as Mask was right behind him. “So…”

“Yeah?” Mask said.

Roman blurted out the first question he could think of. “Why did you kiss me before?”

Mask blinked, “You’re just now asking about that?”

“Well...I mean… yes.” Roman said looking away.

“I wanted to know what happiness tasted like.” Mask said almost wistful. Roman looked at him confused. “I mean, you just seemed so...happy and I thought maybe I could figure out how that tasted.”

“Would you like to try again?” Roman asked before he thought about it. When Mask looked at him he sputtered, “I mean you don’t have to it’s just a suggest-”

Mask cut him off by kissing him.

---

Remus pulled back and watched the way Roman held his eyes closed for a few seconds more before looking at him with something akin to fondness. It made his heart feel all squishy like a crushed grape, but also warm and comfortable.

He liked it.

“So anything you want to get off your chest?” He asked, causing Roman to start.

“Right! Walking! And talking!” Roman turned and started a slow pace that Remus easily kept up with. He started ranting about the Morality and Logic, both of which ignored him most of the time. “It’s only when they need something-”

“At least you’re needed.” Remus muttered not noticing he spoke aloud until Roman stopped and looked at him.

“Why are you here?” Roman asked, looking at him intensely.

“You asked me to be here.” Remus reminded him.

Roman looked disappointed. He turned away. “Right...I keep forgetting you aren’t..”

Remus wanted to rip his mask off but he knew that would just get him kicked out faster than he could explain. So for once in his life he fought off his impulses and just stood there. Roman stared off in the distance towards where Remus’ area was.

“Do you want to be here?”

Remus didn’t expect the question as far as Roman knew, he wasn’t real. He was nothing more than a thought that one of them had. Unless he knew that he wasn’t that. “It’s better than over there.” Remus said, looking off in the same direction.

“I wouldn’t judge it too harshly.” Roman said. “I’m sure my brother has his own charm.” Roman looked down, “Or maybe not...how would I know?” He muttered to himself.

“Do you miss him?” Remus asked.

“Maybe..or maybe I just miss feeling...complete.” Roman shook his head. “Not that I can see him...Patton is...firm about that.”

“Does he hurt you?” Roman looked at him startled.

Roman laughed nervously, “What? No! That’s ridiculous he would never hurt anyone...at least not on purpose.” Remus didn’t like the sound of that. “Is he happy?” Roman asked before Remus could comment.

“No.” Remus said.

Roman looked almost wistful at the dark forest. “Let’s talk about something less depressing.”

“What do you think Frogs taste like?” Remus asked.

“I hope you aren’t saying kissing me is like kissing a frog.” Roman said.

Remus didn’t know how he made that jump in his thought process but he ran with it. “Well you are a prince.”

Roman laughed at that, “Does that make you my princess?”

Remus snorted before cackling at the thought. “Sure! I’ll get a dress and everything!”

“Well I think you could pull off an evening gown.” Roman said looking him up and down.

“Oh I could pull it off!” Remus winked and Roman shoved his shoulder gently. Roman covered his smile.

“Of course that’s where you would go.” Roman grumbled, still smiling.

“You could wear a dress too.” Remus suggested. Roman stared at him. “I mean it! You’d look fantastic in a ball gown. Red and frilly seem like your style.”

“And what if I dressed in your style instead?” Roman asked teasingly. ���Something green and black?” Remus’ mouth was suddenly very dry. He cleared his throat.

“Very good.”

Roman laughed.

---

“I can’t dance in this.” Roman grumbled as he bunched up the dress so he could sit down. Remus was trying very very hard to not laugh. Roman was just so pouty and grumpy. Like a half drowned cat.

Remus plopped down next to him, his dress not nearly as frilly and was easier to move in without tripping. “Well it was worth a shot.”

Roman hummed before half smiling at him. “This was fun. For real.” Roman looked down at his hands in his lap. This matter of real or fake bothered him. Remus didn’t get it, they were fake too weren’t they? But in a different way.

“What if..” Roman looked up at him. “What if I was real?” Remus asked.

“That’s a nice thought. But you’d have to be someone I Know and-” Roman snapped his head up to stare at him. Remus took off his mask.

“Surprise?”

Roman looked panicked. “No you can’t...Remus?!? What the hell!” He demanded jumping to his feet.

“Why do you think?” Remus asked, a little hurt by Roman’s reaction.

Roman was shaking, he looked….scared. “Look it’s ok-”

“No it’s not! Do you have any idea what’s going to happen if someone finds out?” Roman’s breathing was getting faster and Remus knew what a panic attack looked like. He grabbed Roman’s hands and started tapping out a pattern of four. “Just breathe.”

Roman calmed down slowly. “I can’t...You weren’t supposed to know about this!”

“Why not?” Remus asked.

“Because,” Roman tightened his hands in Remus’ “If you know then other people will know and If that happens…. I don’t know what they’ll do.”

Remus pulled him into a tight hug. “I won’t let them do anything to you.” He whispered sharply. Roman held on to him tightly.

----

Roman was in his room WITH REMUS! He locked the door and blocked it with the dresser, he doubted either Patton or Logan would come by but on the off chance they did. He was pacing as Remus watched laying on his bed.

“I’m so stupid for not seeing this before!” Roman groaned.

“Hey! I like to think I’m at least a little sneaky!” Remus said before he caught sight of a painting on the wall. “Is… is that me?”

Roman looked up at his painting of Mask- of Remus? “Yeah I...couldn’t get you off my mind.”

“Did you only make one? because I made twelve.” Remus said jumping off the bed to get a closer look at it.

“You make paintings of me?” Roman asked.

“Yeah! Wanna see?” Remus asked, holding his hand out, not unlike the painting.

Roman took it.

It didn’t take long for Remus to sneak Roman to his room. He locked the door and turned on the light to show several large paintings. Roman covered his mouth with his hands before slowly reaching out and brushing the dried paint with his fingertips. It was dark and gritty and sad. “You painted how I feel.” Roman breathed.

“So you like them?” Remus asked nervously. Roman beamed at him and nodded.

“You captured my loneliness and sadness.” Roman said, “I love it.”

“Oh! I know what we should do!” Remus said excitedly, “Make an art gallery in that one empty hall you have in your castle!”

“That’s a great idea!” Roman said grabbing Remus shoulders and tugging him in for a quick kiss before freezing. He backed up. “Sorry! I didn’t..”

“Hey.” Remus said firmly putting his hand under Roman’s chin and making him look up at him. “Did you like it?”

“What the kiss?” Remus nodded. “I..yes?”

“Then don’t let anyone tell you it was wrong.” Remus said firmly. “You are your own person and you can make your own choices.”

Roman blinked, “I can? ..I mean I can!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

---

They still meet up every week but this time they worked together on projects they wanted to make. Their art gallery was quickly full and overflowing into the rest of the castle. It was no longer filled with fake people but paintings and art that made it feel far more alive.

The halls were filled with laughter and talking. Roman felt complete.

(After accepting anxiety.)

Roman was laying on a couch in the art studio that had been a dinning hall. Remus was painting the ceiling. He sighed dramatically for the fifteenth time in as many minutes.

“You’re being all depressio expressio again.” Remus said without looking away from the very gory piece he was working on.

“I know! I just...I feel like...What if I’m the bad guy?” Roman asked. Remus paused so he could look down at him.

“You think YOU are bad? What in the name of hell gave you that idea?” Remus asked.

“Well I’m not the nicest person.” Roman said.

“You have flaws? Hello? That’s normal?” Remus said.

“I’m dating my brother.” Roman shot back.

Remus smiled, “We’re dating?”

Roman blinked, “I...we are aren’t we? Or did you not want to-”

“No! I fucking love that! You just never said it before!” Remus said, jumping off the ladder and making Roman cry out in alarm before he landed fine.

“Give me a heart attack.” Roman muttered sitting up as Remus could sit down next to him.

“I try.” Remus said laying down so his head was in Roman’s lap. “So, you feel bad because you’re dating me?”

“Well not that’s it you just...you know.” Roman said.

“Oh! The incestous part of it!” Remus wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m not even supposed to talk to you. I doubt anyone would approve of-”

“Does it make you happy?” Remus asked firmly.

Roman rolled his eyes. “You know it does.”

Remus laughed, “I know. It just feels nice for you to say!” Roman kissed Remus’ forehead.

“I’ll try and say it more then.” Roman promised brushing Remus’ hair back. Remus hummed and closed his eyes, a happy duke getting head pets. Remus was a lot softer than people expected. Sure he was terrifying but he could also be soft.

He just never wanted to be seen as afraid.

Just like Roman never wanted to be seen as evil.

Roman would just have to try harder to be good.

(After dealing with intrusive thoughts)

"Everything you don't want to be?" Remus asked.

Roman stiffened before spinning around and glaring at Remus, "YOU knocked me out TWICE!"

Remus shifted, "You said to make it look good!"

"I didn't mean attack me!" Roman said his voice strained. Remus reached towards him and...he flinched. Remus watched as Roman took a step away from him. "I didn't mean what I said."

"I'm sorry." Remus said, "I went too far."

"It's fine." Roman said in a tone that clearly said that it wasn't. "Can we just...forget about it?"

Remus didn't want to but he agreed anyway, trying to ignore the guilt everything Roman tensed when he moved close.

He could only watch as Roman got progressively worse.

Roman was depressed. He gave up everything he dreamed about in the name of what he thought would make him a good person. So why did he feel so...terrible?

Worse was he couldn't get rid of the uneasy feeling whenever Remus would move suddenly. He expected him to attack him again and it was just...he wished things played out differently.

(After selfishness verses selflessness redux)

"Roman?" Remus asked as Roman was curled up in a ball in the corner of his room. Roman didn't respond until Remus sat down next to him.

"I failed." His voice was bitter. He looked up, dark shadows under bloodshot eyes. "I tried so hard and I failed."

"You made mistakes-"

"I'm not a good person, Remus." Roman said, cutting him off. "I'm not a hero or a prince. I'm just...Roman. stupid and cruel."

Remus slowly pulled him into a hug. "You get scared and you lash out. That doesn't make you evil."

"It doesn't matter." Roman said, his voice devoid of feeling. "Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm done. I just… I can't keep doing this anymore." Remus' stomach filled with ice, sharp and cold.

"Yes you can! Listen to me!" Remus forced Roman to face him. "I do not give a fuck whatever everyone else says you are not giving up on me!"

Roman teared up, "I'm sorry I can't be better."

Remus hugged him angry at everyone for the pain his brother was going through. Angry at himself for letting it happen.

---

Now that Remus was around more often it was getting harder to keep the fact they were together underwraps. Roman had a feeling Janus knew, he would give him long looks before looking at Remus and back. He would smile in an unfriendly way. Possible still made about the whole name thing, Roman and apologized but it didn't seem like it was enough.

Roman wasn't enough.

Remus watched as everyone just accepted Roman not talking anymore, brushing off his feelings and saying he was 'pouting'. Roman only ever talked to Thomas and Remus at this point and the others...were fine with that.

They didn't care.

One part of Remus was sickly happy about it. He got Roman to himself for the most part. But the other part was furious that they didn't care. He wanted to smack some sense into them but Roman told him not too.

Roman's ideas got darker. He stopped wearing his prince suit and switched it out for a white turtleneck and black pants. No one other than Remus commented on the change.

"You look good in anything but are you happy?" Remus asked when Roman asked how he looked.

"At least I still look ok." Roman said ignoring the question before going to work. He struggled to make more 'good' ideas and Logan was getting tired of waiting.

Remus almost bashed Logan's face in whenever he showed up and asked if Remus could try and replace Roman in case he might have something that would work. Remus stiffly declined.

He never told Roman about the offer but he knew the second Roman found out by the way the light in his eyes dulled.

Remus had to do something.

So he threw a party.

---

Roman wasn't sure why he was blindfolded and drugged off through his own castle but he didn't question Remus' surprises anymore. The quiet muttering of a crowd met his ears before the blindfold was removed and replaced with a mask.

"You threw a party?" Roman asked blinking.

Remus grabbed his brother's hand tightly. "It's the same party where we met...again." Remus said, dragging him out onto the dancefloor.

Roman smiled, the circles under his eyes still there but there was a spark of life in him again. Remus stopped in one spot. "Our first kiss." He said.

Roman chuckled and leaned in giving Remus a kiss, soft and quick but enough to make them both smile. "I'll always be here for you."

"And I for you." Roman promised putting his hand on Remus' cheek.

"Sap."

"You started it."

Remus hummed. "I did didn't I?"

Roman leaned his forehead against Remus' and closed his eyes focusing on the feeling of being with him. Of feeling complete.

They swayed slightly to the music. Time not mattering, the outside world not mattering, just this moment. When they left they would face the others but Roman decided they would face them together.

Even if they got angry or disapproved. They would have each other.

[jjba-hell]

Rock Bottom

Day 2 and the Prompt we going for was- Insecurity. And lemme just say I went ham on this one. Sorry for anyone who read my unedited version a few hours ago, my tumblr cue time is weird af... 

This is a bit of a mash up between backstory and insecurity but definitely ANGSTY AF! Really now, good luck.

There are ALLOT of trigger warnings so much, I dare say it’s rated. Drug use, pregnancy, postnatal complications (and death), ABUSE (emotional, physical, verbal, familial), prostitution (mention)...I probably missed allot but this one is intense. 

Gonna tag @a-nonnie-mousse (’cause you a sweetie) and @lasquadraweek2020 for this one and also @risottoneroo​ (though if Mel’s not your cup of tea, I’m so sorry but we mutuals now so sowwy UwU) 

2,4 K words- good luck ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

Looking at the mirror one morning Melone couldn’t help but breath a heavy sigh. March 22nd held a painful memory to him- which was why he was due at the graveyard at 9 for a personal meeting. Risotto had been kind enough to allow it but not without warning.

“Don’t get caught.” Was all he said.

“Yeah, like I’d allow another fuck up.” He scoffed as he tied his hair back to get ready. As if he hadn’t heard enough of that in his life. Gazing back at himself mirror- tired and defeated he recalled a younger version of himself doing and thinking the same thing a few years ago- looking back at the mirror and feeling the same way he did at that moment. It had happened after another fight with his mother.

“Stefan.” His mother hissed as she angrily loomed over his shoulder. “What’s this?” She tossed the physics pop quiz on the table in front of him- feeling panic set in his spine, wanting to jump out of his chair and hurdle his way out of her grasp. He had thrown that piece of paper away- he could have sworn he did. Right now, of course, he was wishing he had burned it instead.

“Nothing, mama.”

“Nothing is it? Because it looks like a C- to me.”

He swallowed, hoping she was a too tired to fight him today. “Most of the class-“

“I don’t-“she grabbed hold of the hair on top of his head and shoved his head down onto the table. “-CARE ABOUT HOW MOST OF THE CLASS DID! That is going on your report card!”

He kept his head down, nose bleeding into the algebra homework he was working on below him. Picking up his head now would only make her hurt him more. “Mama, it was a mock test.”

“So, this is how little you know. Did you cheat your way through your grades your whole life?”

He didn’t say anything, knowing there was no point in arguing with her when she was like this. 

Melone grew up in a household most people would find bizarre but he never labelled it abuse. Not until his university sweetheart held his hand and asked him. “Why do you apologize for everything you do?”

It wasn’t hard to figure out once he sat down and considered it instead of shoving the question aside in favour of a taking a bit of ecstasy and a willing side piece- a bad habit he had picked up after he left the hellish hole he called home.

“You’re just as stupid as your father.”

“You’re just as spineless as your mother.”

Two phrases interchanged by two people who didn’t love each other in the slightest and him in the middle of it all- wondering why nothing he did was ever enough.

Melone shook off the memory as he splashed his face with the warm water from the tap, only to end up being caught up in his own reflection again, by the gaze of his heterochromatic eyes- the mask he wore on the lay job forgotten on his bedside table. He had had many of his one night stands tell him he was gorgeous with the one blue and one green eye but he had spent enough of his childhood being told by his father what a freak it made him. 

He gazed back at his own bed, surprisingly devoid of the previous night’s endeavour. So, he pulled the sheets off and remade the bed, thinking on how badly he wished he wasn’t sober- numbing away the grief he was feeling with a little white pill and the pleasure of being praised between the sheets. 

The weather forecast called for a cold chill and some scattered showers, how fitting for the proper black coat and suit he left the apartment in. He got into the car with Ghiacchio without another word beside a simple greeting, not wanting to anger the blue-haired man beside him- he didn’t quiet feel up to the banter, or perhaps arguments was a better word, he shared with Ghiacchio.

The scenery melded from cityscape to countryside- reminding him of the first time he went to this graveyard. At the time, tragedy has struck his life like lightning and was burning down everything he had dared to hope for- the person waiting for him at the church connected to the graveyard was all hope he had left to save Bianca.

The life of the mafia was never really one he was completely ignorant of- the contraband he used to take like sugar pills was just one of the ways he already had his foot in the door- although at the time he simply deemed himself as paying for a product from a lackey. When he cleaned up his act for Bianca he thought he’d never have to delve that dark again. The straight and narrow path didn’t last long though and soon he came to realize that he had been surrounded by crime his whole life, only waiting to be inevitably swallowed by it. 

Ghiacchio pulled up a few blocks short of the graveyard gates and Melone handed him a wad of cash as payment. “That’s generous.” Ghiacchio commented but Melone didn’t answer. He simply got up and thanked him again. He would walk the rest of the way- which wasn’t far.

Melone bought a handful of Marigolds from the flower vendor on his way and continued to move through the gates- meandering through as he racked his brain as to where they were buried. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t care, it just hurt too much to think about often enough to remember. When he eventually found the white marble mausoleum he stepped in and found the two plaques on the wall where he inserted the flowers into their designated holdings. Bianca Regio and Vita Regio. 

Six years ago, shortly after he graduated his first-year medical school, he had gotten some news from his girlfriend Bianca- she was pregnant with his baby. He supposed normal students would have seen their whole lives doomed but the joy he felt overwhelmed his worry surrounding finances to take care of the child. It was most definitely not his plan, but he didn’t care. He felt so hopeful for the kid’s sake- a prospect he looked back at and cringed at his own desperation to give something he never had. He and his girlfriend loved each other. Even thinking on that phrase made his heart ache. She loved him. He loved her. They were going to start a loving family together. He could give them what he never had. It only occurred to him later on how contradicting that was but at the time, ignorance was bliss.

It didn’t last long of course- six months after Bianca told him she went into premature labour and then shortly after got a blood clot in her portal vein. Vita was born 3 months too early and was already in intensive care within hours of her birth and Bianca was getting weaker by the minute. The panic and desperation set into Melone the second she was moved into the ICU with no prospect of getting better.  Despite severing ties with his parents Melone knew where his bread was buttered. A broke medical student couldn’t wish to pay the medical bills Bianca was tallying up in the hospital.  He didn’t even think twice to call his father and admit his defeat. 

What his father told him would have shocked anyone else in this world- to hear your father say. “The capo that runs this town is at the church in Venicio- confession ends in an hour.” It suddenly made sense how his father could always afford the expensive cars or the expensive furniture in their home despite being a lowly state attorney while his mother worked as his assistant.

Melone took a cab as close as close to the church as he dared- true to his father warning-and ran to the find the man who could help him.

“Signore, I beg you. My love and our child are in danger.” He had begged as he dropped to his knees in front of the man. “I sell myself to you, my future, my life. It’s all yours if you would just lend me for the medical bills now.” 

The capo ran a hand over Melone’s tear-streaked face, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Melone was made to gaze up at him. The stern, unreadable expression made him tense up in fear of accidentally disrespecting him. But the capo turned Melone’s head as if to observe him. “I’ll consider it.” He grumbled as he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash which Melone took in disbelief. “I expect you at Libechio’s tomorrow afternoon, sharp.”

And with that, he moved past Melone.

He didn’t regret it, he never would. It only hurt that at face value it was in vain. The money spoke louder than his begging ever would and as it turned out- whatever treatment they gave Bianca allowed her to be moved back into a regular hospital room. He spoke to Bianca the very morning he was due at Libeccio’s- feeling hopeful that she’d recover. Even the capo took pity on him, saying he’d have handed him to a pimp that day if it weren’t for the news of Bianca’s position. At the time, Melone had no idea what the capo had meant- not truly. He thought the capo had learned more about him- about Biacna’s pre-term labour and her sudden illness but he understands now that they are usually not that giving.

Instead, Melone got an alternative deal. Melone would finish his medical studies full term on the capo’s good graces to fulfill the need for a medic in the mafia before he would be officially initiated.  since he lost Lucy and their unborn child in the same night.

The expensive treatment Melone had paid for gave Melome a solid two days before he had to give a painful, final goodbye to both Bianca and his daughter. The baby’s heartbeat was lost two hours prior to Bianca’s death. He had begged, pleaded for her to hold on just a bit longer but with tear-rimmed he said his final goodbye, grasping onto her like she was his lifeline. He didn’t let go of her until they escorted him out of the room- by then her hand had lost all its warmth.

Outside of the hospital he came face to face with Bianca’s family- having to explain to her parents what had happened to her. Standing in front of them was probably the heaviest thing he had been forced to do. Suddenly all the insecurities his parents ever made him believe were proved right. He wasn’t enough to take care of Bianca. He wasn’t enough to take care of Vita. He wasn’t enough to take care of himself. He wasn’t smart enough to have come up with a plan without his father’s help. He wasn’t smart enough to understand that he’d never be able to live the life he so desperately craved. 

After that he had to go home and clear away all her books and research she had left on his desk, the plans he had for the nursery, the applications for a home loan and eventually even the ring he wanted to propose to her with was pawned- anything to try and rid himself of any reminder of his failure. To forget the pain of losing all he had hoped for in one night.

“Stefan.” A voice called beside him.

“Mrs Regio.” He turned to Bianca’s mother who held a bundle of flowers in her hand. “You look well.”

“As do you, Mrs Regio.” He didn’t say anything else, simply handing over the envelope of cash he owed her family. 

Bianca and Melone turned out to have more in common than they truly knew. Bianca ran away from home when she found out her parents were involved in organized crime and Melone ran away only to find out his family did the same. Because the money Melone borrowed from the capo went towards Bianca’s treatment- it was her parents who let her slip away from their care and they therefor had to take on the debt Melone had made. He refused to let Bianca’s parents think lowly of him so that brought him here, paying off a year’s worth of debt every year he met with Mrs Regio. 

He turned to look at Bianca’s plaque one more, praying that she could forgive him for failing her and continuing to fail her as he continued to live as he did. His sobriety was thrown out the window the day he came home from her funeral. He kept up his promise of finishing his degree on whatever he felt like using until he had to be initiated- then he had to sober up just enough to do his job in the mafia. 

BabyFace came to be and so did his most lecherous self- which made eventually stop seeing victims and mothers as people but as faceless bodies. But when he woke up after a high of a kill all he could ask was: 

Was that all he was worth? Was that what his soul was made of? An intense hunger for still wanting to find the perfect mother, be a perfect father and create the perfect baby? Now thriving on make others understand how it feels to be deconstructed until they’re nothing- just as he had for so many years? Was this trauma always going to taunt him? Was he always going to be reminded of his insecurity within himself?

At first the stand seemed useless until he tried using his stand on a mission to take out a bastard who was behind on rent money. It was then that he realized it was better for murder than it was at helping him achieve the dream that haunted him.

“It wasn’t your fault, Stefan. You did more than we could.” 

“Not enough.”

The two stepped out of the mausoleum, closing the door behind them. “You’re a good man, Stefan.” Was the last thing Bianca’s mother told him before turning and walking away. 

Melone shook his head as he started walking back to the entrance of the graveyard.

“I never was, Mrs Regio.”

The second he got back into the car with Ghiacchio, he popped a pill and asked to wait a few minutes so he could take a smoke break and call an old friend of his…

“Yeah I don’t care who, just make sure she’s not new.”

[dumbfuck-mojave]

Companions React to Sole With Talkative Bird: Part 1

This is part one of a single ask. I just wanted to split it up since it would be long af otherwise. This react includes: Codsworth, Curie, Cait along with a short pre-war intro. Warnings for this part: Swearing (obviously) and brief mention of Cait’s drug abuse in one sentence. 

This was such a hilarious request how could I not start it (almost) immediately. Also, thank you for the request! If you enjoyed, feel free to request more!

For context, I did “two parts” to each react: A part where the companions first meet Sole and their bird and another general reaction to it being so talkative.  They aren’t exactly split up in a sense but I hope you get what I’m saying. I also didn’t really have a set focus on how long the certain “parts” were going to be so yeahhh 😅.

As the sirens blared, Sole looked helplessly around the house. 

“Sole, come on!” Their spouse yelled frantically, holding a fussing Shaun in their arms. But another fussing was heard from the room the two lovers shared. It would never be allowed, but Sole couldn’t just leave him there. Bolting to the room, they hurriedly unlocked the large cage in the corner, holding their hand out so their precious bird could climb on. 

“I don’t mean to rush but you three must hurry and go now!” Codsworth said, it almost sounded like there was a bit of nervousness in his tone. Sole rushed out into the living room once more. They looked at Codsworth.

“Codsworth, stay safe.” Sole said solemnly as their spouse rushed them to the door, somehow  either missing the bird or choosing to ignore it.

“Babe, they will never let you bring him in.” Sole’s spouse said as they ran up the hill.

“We already had to leave Codsworth, I couldn’t leave Comet too. He was screaming so loud, I just had too. I'll find a way to hide him, I’m sure of it. “

Astonishingly, Sole did find a way to hide the bird during the journey through Vault 111. Comet had to have appeared on the life monitor, but it was no use worrying about now,  were Sole’s thoughts as they lost their last slivers of consciousness. 

Sole was so grateful Comet managed to survive being cryogenically frozen and unfrozen twice, because after what they had seen, he was the only thing that was keeping them grounded. Stumbling their way through the now deserted Vault, bright light blinded them as they were brought to the surface after more than 200 years.

Codsworth: “Sole, you’re back!”, Codsworth shouted gleefully as he saw Sole walking towards Sanctuary, Comet perched on their shoulder.

“Hello Codsworth.”, Sole seemed to be in a dazed state as they continued to look around what was once a lively, vibrant neighborhood. 

“Well then, it’s to see you again! Comet is with you as well! Oh, that’s wonderful! May I ask, where are <spouse> and young master Shaun? They mustn’t be late for dinner.... Again. You do know how your spouse loved to take Shaun on walks. I remember-”

“Codsworth, please. Did you see them? The people that took Shaun? They must have passed through here right?”

“Oh, you always were a jokester, weren’t you? Unless…. You’re serious? Oh heavens!” Codsworth waved his arms around frantically, “Then what has happened to your dear spouse?”

“They’re dead, Codsworth. I need to go find out who killed them, and find Shaun. Do you know of anywhere that could help me?”

“Well, there is the town of Concord over the bridge. It’s a bit of a walk but you may be able to find some help there.”

“Ok, that’s where I’ll start. I just- I think I need to sit down for a moment.” Sole suddenly gasped, gently holding their hand to their chest. Comet snuggled his beak into the side of their head.

“Gracious, come inside at once.” Codsworth led them into their pre-war house and sat them down on the couch, “I will try to find you something to fill your stomach, not eating for two hundred years must have left you famished!”

Sole blankly stared down. How could this be? Had it really been 200 years? Who had taken Shaun? And why? So many questions rushed through their mind as Comet made his way from their shoulder to their open hands. 

“Hey!” Comet chirped and whistled, looking up and Sole. Sole looked up at Comet with glistening eyes, weakling lifting their free hand to pet him on the head. After a few moments, Comet hopped off and flew into the back of the house. 

“Um, mum/sir? I do apologize, but I can’t quite seem to find anything that would give you a full meal.” Codsworth floated back into the house and hovered in front of Sole, “Are you okay?”

Sole looked up, startled and focusing on the present once more, “That’s okay Codsworth. Thank you for trying anyways.” 

“I think your spouse was planning on giving this to you as a gift before everything happened.” Codsworth extended his claw to drop a holotape in Sole’s hand.”, My protocol prevents me from listening to it, but I think it’s a message for you.” 

Sole flipped the tape over in their hands, running their pointer finger along the ridged edge. Hi Honey was written in slanted handwriting on a small piece of paper attached to one side, a few ink spots splattered around it. Sole’s hands tightened around it as they felt more sobs grow in their chest. Whatever they were going to do after that was interrupted by Comet flying back into the room, landing on the scratched-up island in the middle of the kitchen. Comet jumped up and down, aggressively shaking his favorite toy: A small ball with a bell trapped inside it. Both Codsworth and Sole stared at him. 

“I always told you you never should have gotten that for him. He went on and on with that thing during the night.” Codsworth sighed exasperatedly. Oh, of course Codsworth remembered Comet from before the war. Comet was with Sole long before Codsworth was, so they’ve known each other  since the day Codsworth was booted up. 

What he did not expect was how talkative the bird was going to be. Comet always seemed to be saying something and at first Codsworth thought Comet was going to only say compliments and affections. Whether Comet was complimenting Sole while on their shoulder or talking to Sole’s spouse through the cage, it was always the sweetest little things. He even complimented Codsworth, calling him “Pretty Codsy” as he perched on one of Codsworth’s eyes. Sole told Codsworth Comet probably picked it up from them calling him Codsy offhandedly and Comet’s preference for compliments. It’s not like Codsworth minded, it even gave him a small boost of confidence being complimented so frequently. 

But Comet had a preference for something else. One day, while  Codsworth was cleaning the living room, Comet flew in and promptly called Codsworth a “Fucking rustbucket”. Codsworth stopped in shock the same way he did when one of the neighbor's called him that earlier that day. It was probably where he learned such a vile saying. From that point forward, Codsworth slowly learned to deal with it. Comet was just repeating phrases he had heard, no matter if it was vicious insults or heartfelt compliments. And even though he would never admit it, Codsworth did feel some joy after hearing Comet tell a raider to fuck off.

Curie: When Comet flew past the window into Curie’s room, she almost couldn’t believe it.

“Is that an African Grey Parrot?” Curie asked in her gentle voice and she moved to the window, “How did such a thing ever get down here?”

“Is someone in there?” Sole’s voice echoed down the hall as Comet flew back and sat on their head. 

“Oh! A human! Finally. I have been waiting so long for you to come.” Curie gasped, “Please tell me you are authorized to release me.” 

“I’m not a person from Vault-Tec. Why do you need me to release you, why can’t you do it yourself?” Sole asked. 

“I am not authorized to do so without written or verbal permission from a Vault-Tec representative. Are you authorized to release me? Please say yes.”

“Yes!” Comet harped on top of Sole’s head. Sole sighed exasperatedly while Comet looked down at them, waiting for a treat. Sole held up their arm so he could climb down on it and put a seed ball in their hand for him to grab.

“You now what? Whatever. I’m authorized to let you out. So you may come out.” Sole flatly said. 

“Oh this is great news indeed!” Curie replied eagerly,” I will open the door for you at once” 

As the door slid open, Curie held out a vial to Sole.

“I am pleased to report I finished all my duties 83 years ago. The molerats were infected with a variety of pathogens and this was made as a cure-all formula. Quite amazing, is it not? Do be careful where you use this though, as it is the only one left and I do not have the materials to make more.” 

“Alright, thank you!” Sole smiled as they took the cure. They had taken extra steps to prevent getting bitten by the rabid molerats travelling through the Vault and it worked. Now all they had to do was get it back to the main part and give it to Austin, “ Would you like to come with me back to the Vault?”

“I very much would, monsieur/madame. I haven’t been out of that room for ages.” 

“Let’s get going then.” Sole nodded, setting off towards the stairs.

As they were drawing close to the exit, Curie couldn’t help but stare and the bird perched on Sole’s shoulders. 

“May I ask where you got your bird? I have not seen one for a very long time and a healthy Parrot no less! You must take good care of them.”

“Oh!” Sole laughed, “I’ve been with this guy a long time. I’ve had him about five/six years now.”

“He seems to trust you very much. If it is possible, I would like to take a closer look at his habits when we get out of this place.” 

“You fucker!” Comet squawked as Curie finished her sentence. 

“Mon Dieu! That is so rude!” Curie puffed, hovering a few inches upward. 

“I’m sorry! He doesn’t mean anything by it, I think, he just repeats things he’s heard.” Sole faltered as Comet gleefully said fuck over and over, “ I may have a swearing problem to work on.”

“African Grey parrots are very intelligent, so it isn’t surprising that he picked up so many words.” Curie explained, “ Not to say that was called for.” 

“I swear, he’s a really sweet bird. Comet, you’re nice aren’t you?”Sole turned to their bird, “Come on, isn’t Curie nice?” 

“Very nice!”, Comet twittered, bouncing up and down, “Pretty voice, woo-hoo!” 

“Oh, why thank you! My vocal pattern and accent is unique to me, designed by one of the scientists that used to be here, Mr. Collins!”  

As talked about, Curie did examine Comet when they got back into Vault 81. Sole knew their bird was very much an attention hog and chuckled as Comet sat pridefully when Curie gently observed him. Comet took a liking to Curie fairly quickly and complimented her frequently. When she finally got her synth body, Comet immediately flew to her and snuggled his head against her cheek. Though she enjoyed the compliments, Comet would scream out a random curse word from time to time, startling Curie. She mostly was just excited there was a living, breathing parrot for her to interact and study with. 

Cait: “Holy fuck!” A raider screamed, right before choking on his own blood. 

As a gunfight started, Cait looked out of the metal cage to see a shadowed figure ripping apart raiders with an assault rifle. 

“Cait! Keep your head down!” Tommy whispered as he crouched in the corner.

“Oh shove off, you coward.”

“Yeah, bitch!”

Both Cait and Tommy looked at the bird that landed in the cage with confusion. Even more confusion followed when the shadowy figure stepped into the cage, the parrot immediately flying to them.  

“Hey, buddy! What’s the deal with you killing all my customers?” Tommy scoffed at Sole, who seemed mildly displeased that they had gotten so much blood on their skin.

“Um, I just saved your life. You should be grateful that those raiders didn’t start in-fighting before I got here.” 

“Yeah, bitch!”

“Comet, hush,” Sole rubbed their bird’s head with a calloused thumb, “What even is this place anyway?”

“Not from around these parts, huh? This, my bird whispering friend, is the Combat Zone.” Tommy opened his arms a bit at the now empty theater, “It was a raider fighting hotspot until you decided to clear the house.” 

The wheels turned in Tommy’s head and when he turned back around you could almost envision the light bulb popping up. Ding!

“So, you saw the end of my little bird’s fight, correct? How’d you like it?”

“God Dammit Tommy! I told you to stop calling me that.” 

“It was very impressive.” Sole turned towards Cait, “ You are a very capable fighter.”

Cait slapped her palms against her thighs, then up in the air, “Finally, someone with some appreciation.” 

“Listen, I might appreciate more if you didn’t keep plunging that junk into your arm. You’re high right now, aren’t you!” Tommy said angrily.

“Why do you care!? It helps me bring in the caps, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t matter how I do it!”

“It’s making you sloppy Cait!” Tommy said exasperatedly, “You know what? Let’s make a deal. Since I’m not bringing in any caps at the moment and you think Cait here is a capable fighter, why don’t you take her off my hands while I try to figure out a new business strategy.”

“Only if she agrees to it.” 

“She’ll agree to it once she figures out we got no audience, no caps, and no one else to talk to but me.” 

“Jesus, point taken,” Cait huffed, turning to Sole, “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.” 

Once out on the road again, Cait started asking questions about Comet.

“So, where the hell did you get something like that?”

“Comet? Oh, I got him before the war.”

“You what?”

Sole smiled, “It’s a long story to be honest.” 

Comet jumped off of Sole’s shoulder onto their bag, reaching inside to grab at his bell. He started rattling it aggressively in Cait’s direction. 

“Oh, that means he likes you!” Sole piped in. 

“Well if you don’t quit that rattling I’m about to take that bell away from you.” Cait growled as the rattling got louder and faster.

Sole, not wanting to piss off Cait more, gently pried the bell from Comet’s beak and put it back in the bag. 

“You’re beautiful, woo-hoo!” Comet swayed back and forth on Sole’s arms, nodding his head to an imaginary beat. 

“Come on, Cait. He’s just trying to impress you.” Sole pushed, bobbing their arm up and down to match Comet’s dance. 

“The day I take a compliment from a critter is the day I give up the last shred of decency I have.”

Though it took awhile, Cait eventually got used to Comet’s presence. She would never show it, but she was actually a bit scared of him at first. The first time Comet got on her shoulder she nearly slapped him off out of fear, if it wasn’t for Sole swooping in and calming her down. But during her withdrawals, when she felt too nauseous to even stand up, Comet let her pet his head softly, crooning a soft tune. That changed something in Cait. Now you wouldn’t even know Cait was scared of birds at first, as she handles him like a pro. She still doesn’t like him, so don’t even think that *wink wink*. 

[joshslater]

0ngoing Sponsorship

This is the other POV of 0ngoingw0rk’s Forced Sponsorship story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

What was I thinking? I had totally lost judgement when Stacy responded to my text message. I'd sent her "wanna see my dick rn" at home, but didn't get the "lol ok" until at the gym. It was empty this early, so I thought getting caught dick pic:ing was pretty slim. I was facing the mirror after all, not the whole gym.

But I had been seen, and led by a massive employee into his office as I was heading out. Perhaps he was the owner. He offered me a choice between doing some testing for him, or involving the police. Who knows what that could lead to. Sex offender registration? The deal he offered of tasting sport drinks was an easy option to take. A new drink to test every two weeks or so, while following a pre-approved workout regimen.

- Ok, I'll do it. Will you delete the video? - They overwrite automatically every two months.

Perhaps this could be a good thing. I was to work out twice a day during the testing, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. Get fit or go to jail. If ever there was a better motivator. Yeah, this would definitively be a good thing. Just need to get a bit better grip on the diet. No more cheat weeks, and I should be set.

- It's fully sponsored, so I want you to wear this the next two weeks.

He gave me a gaudy yellow shirt made in some high tech material, with an ugly anthropomorphic muscled banana drawn on the front. Well, it's not an orange prison shirt at least, though just as conspicuous.

- See you tomorrow then. Front staff will have your pre-workout drink ready for you.

I showed up as agreed and picked up my jug of "Banana Blast" at the entrance. I'm not really a fan of banana flavor, but as banana drinks goes this one was pretty good. I kept sipping on it while changing into my gym gear and the outlandish top. Once ready to hit the gym I still had almost half of it left, which I chugged.

It wasn't a full on erection, so it actually took a while for me to notice. I'm sure I made a few adjustments subconsciously before noticing I was having a semi. These things do happen, but I'm not a teenager any more, so it's rare. This one was a bit different though, as it kept up until about lunch time.

My mind was mostly on Stacy, who appeared to have ghosted me after the picture I sent, so I wouldn't even had remembered if it weren't for what happened later that afternoon, back at the gym. I had barely finished the drink and hadn't even hit the gym floor when the erection came back. Harder than I've ever been in my life, I think. What's worse was that the gym also was pretty packed at this hour. The bright shirt made everyone take a look, and though most missed or ignored my hard on, I certainly got both smirks and looks of incredulity. I was mortified.

So this was how he was going to make me pay. By putting some Viagra shit in the drink to teach me a lesson. I wasn't going to let that beat me, so I went all in on the exercises I had scheduled. No one said anything, but there were glances my way all through the pass. And I couldn't just run and hide either, as I had to complete and hand in the damn questionnaire. I noted down the weights and reps as I was going, but still had lots of measurements and open ended questions to answer. I left the box about side effects blank. He damn well already knew what the did.

I was hard all through the evening, and tried to solve it with a hand job. Frustratingly I grew tired and gave up before I could cum. A quick cold shower helped a bit, but ultimately I went to bed with a pretty stiff dick. It was a bit better when I woke up. It was still at least semi erect, but no longer rock hard. It perked right up again as soon as I had the morning jug of banana bullshit. Who could have thought 30 minutes of cardio could be so complicated with a hard on. Orbital was uncomfortable, treadmill was like an inflatable tube man dancing down there, and the bike was outright torture.

If there was any shrinkage happening between training, it was insignificant. Whatever aphrodisiac he'd saturated me with had me in a constant kind of soft semi. Well, larger than that. A soft on.

In fact, ironically it appeared I couldn't get hard. While the big sausage flopped around during the afternoon session, it was as sensitive as it had ever been. I was practically edging myself, to the point where I almost wasn't aware of all the stares and glances. As soon as I was done with the paperwork I rushed home to finish off in the shower, but without success. It was like shaking a water balloon.

I woke up as I fell asleep. Sore all over, weird soft erection and horny AF. Nothing changed with the drinks and the training, though I got a bit better at ignoring everyone else at the gym. It was leg day though, so if anyone had missed what was happening between my legs before, they had no excuse any longer. There was a new question on the form, asking “Have you experienced any increased sensitivity anywhere on the body?”. I knew what he was after. I was close to answering “my tits”, but decided it best to not kick the bear. I was determined to not show any sign of weakness.

Things then kept pretty much the same throughout the week, neither worse nor better. I was frustratingly horny and a bit movement constrained with a floppy salami in my pants, but was slowly able to work around it. My carpenter trousers at work could hide a lot, and I bought a pair of compression shorts to wear under my gym shorts to keep things in place. In addition I started to learn how to move, walk and do the exercises without embarrassing myself too much. All the gym regulars already knew what was going on though.

There were a few more tweaks on the questionnaire to try to provoke me into disclosing what was happening. I refused to admit that, of course, and there were no further changes during the second week, up to the last day of Banana Blast.

First day after the trial was no different. I still had a come in and do my workouts and fill out the forms, and physically there were no changes. The morning after that though. HO-LEE SHIT. I could feel I was hard right away as I woke up, and my hand went down there almost immediately. What I felt was wrong. I jumped out of bed and just stood naked, looking down and marveling. My dick was a monster, probably twice the size of my usual erect size, which I wasn’t ashamed of. I came pretty quickly, with an ungodly amount of cum, and continued several rounds of climax before I finally went limp. Only that meant back to how it had been for the last week.

When I finally did show up at the gym, more than an hour late, it was almost exactly like any morning the previous week, except perhaps a bit less horny. I don’t know if I should thank him or curse him for what he’s done to my body, but at least he got his revenge. I’m gonna make another attempt with Stacy tonight.

[mockky]

A sad story how Russo bros reminded us about the crappy world we live in

Disclaimer (kinda). Preventing the arguments like “read the comic-book to understand the movie”. First of all I've never read the comics and never will. I shouldn't do that to watch a movie. It's the director's job to tell me a story. It can be changed a bit, but it still has to have a logic. This is author's priority.

I guess there's no need to run through the movie again and get to details, it's too many of them. Just a few big ones. Firstly, the time travel idea is pretty lame by itself. Every time-travel-movie does the same mistakes – PARADOXES, no one managed to escape it. So if you can solve your problem only by time travel – please don't do the movie, this job is not for you.

It's like the creators don't know the rules of their own universe. Nebula translates her thoughts to Past-Nebula, they're connected somehow even being far from each other, killing Past-Nebula literally doesn't do anything. How does it work? All this plan just fucked up the previous movies. And then some random rat actually saves the universe? Seriously? I don't know but I think it’s called “lazy writing”.

OK, there's no movie without a sin. But what's really important is the screwed up characters. No one did or got anything what one was supposed to.

Loki. His extremely stupid, reckless and suicidal lunge actually was extremely stupid, reckless and suicidal. The God of Guile threw himself with a toothpick against titan and dropped dead. Bravo!

Thor. I never really was a fan of him. But this is officially the worst comic-relief ever. Why he should be like some sort of that whiny drunk dumbass, especially after him being so cool and strong in Infinity war? Gods saved us from fart-jokes and slow-mo-food-fight. Thor lost his parents, lost his brother and Asgard. He's broken and crushed, and Marvel just points finger at him and laughs. Very mature.

Doctor Strange showed up to show us a very important finger.

Captain Marvel is a whole new level of pain in the ass. Skip the Boring-IMBP-part. Though it's hard to forget how they just shoved her in fan's throats, and expected them to have the same empathy for her as for Tony or Cap. But we know them for 10 damn years! The biggest problem that she's not a person, she is God ex machine with magic GPS in her head, invincible, strong-independent-woman and all. With that cockish face of hers, kicked Thanos's ass, but when it comes to the gauntlet, it's up to Hulk and Tony. What da hell? All that power, it's the only thing she could help with. And don't give me that "it's a big universe, not only you've got problems" crap. Thanos's snap affected THE WHOLE universe. Isn't he the main threat here and now?

And what really pissed me of is the ending and the way it fucked up the most interesting and deep part of it all – Steve and Bucky.

Allow me to remind you few points.

CATFA

We see Steve as this tiny subtle guy with heart of gold and strong will, he is hero inside. I can do this all day. He wanted to go to war, he took the serum, he's like walking embodiment of self-sacrifice and heroism. But he became “the chorus girl”, this empty symbol, a fake. Actual soldiers don't believe and don't respect him, cuz he’s never been in real fight. He does not respect himself anymore. But when his friend got in danger in the blink of an eye Steve transforms into this Rambo, alone against the world, flipped like a switch. He dashed headlong to the enemy's base just for tiny possibility his friend might be alive. At that very moment Steve becomes what he meant to be – the real Captain America.

CATWS

Steve managed to get through 70 years of brainwashing with only one phrase, and refused to fight Winter soldier hoping that there was still Bucky somewhere. The entire movie revolves around two of them.

CATCW

Some fans said that Cap and Tony should switch sides on this one, but it doesn't feel right for me. Cap's got a point. What if there's somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us. Obviously it is CATFA reference, where he goes against orders to save Bucky. And he's afraid cuz he knows that it could cost lives. And now he's running around the city protecting Bucky from the government and T'Chala. He fights Tony, bloodily, everything to protect Bucky.

What a lovely deep drama! It's a comic-book story here we’re talking about. I bet in CATFA no one really noticed sweet little Bucky. But the Winter soldier just stole the movie and fan's hearts. Steve and Bucky have this strong almost cosmic bonds, it's stronger than brotherhood or friendship, it was so since 40s. After all this freezing thing they became totally unique for each other. You can smash vibranium shield with that bonds (which Cap actually does symbolically when gives up the shield TWICE, both times for Bucky). It's unbelievable that after all he did for Bucky Cap could ditch Bucky for anyone or anything. Creators teased the fans and encouraged that bromance. It was openly a queer-baiting, it was a canon, and you can't stop the shippers.

Three movies were built up on this relationship. It was work of art if you ask me – so many details, so much depth, and the amaizing acting, I mean you can watch it over and over, and every time you find something new in their eyes or words. And they not just talk, they actually do anything to proof their devotion to each other. It's absolutely beautiful. And it's Bucky who made Steve interesting and alive as a movie character and a real hero as a person.

And what we get in the end? Bucky turned into dust in front of Steve, but on the group meeting Steve talks about... Peggy? Where did it come from? He doesn't mention Bucky the whole movie. Steve goes to return the Infinity stones and comes back an old man. For us, for Bucky, it was 5 sec, but for Steve it was 70+ years. He left Bucky and lived 70+ years without him. Besides he never said Bucky about his plan (or just desire or whatever), didn't say a proper goodbye, didn't consider it as a betrayal. He just decided to live for himself. By the way Bucky reacted as if it was a big surprise for him and even bigger disappointment. He was anxious during that scene when Steve suddenly didn't show up on the platform. And if you wanna say “Bucky knew it was gonna happen and was happy for his friend” then it's the great time to keep your mouth shut. He obviously wasn't happy with it, and he didn't know. Post-movie interviews don’t count! Don’t tell me that it was off-screen. It’s a MOVIE! If something is important – it’s on the screen and it becomes a canon. Stupid scene in a cafe with selfie and kids IS on the screen, apparently it’s important af and it’s a canon. Fat greasy-haired Thor yells at some gamer in chat – that’s VERY important and it’s a canon. But a talk between best friends when one of them decided to leave the other for good and go to the past doesn’t deserve screen time. Are you sure you set your priorities right? By the way Sebastian asked Russo about this. He thought there would be some dialogue between Steve and Bucky, but director said No, you already had that conversation.

No wonder Bucky didn't approach to Steve and only looked from distance. What can you possibly say to the man who claimed himself your best friend and then easily abandoned you just like that, lived without you for 70+ years and apparently was OK with it.

Steve just goes to Peggy. Because that's how it must be, that's natural, that's happiness. This cliché stuck so deep in the people minds, so they can't see anything behind it. I'm sure that not so many people knows what it actually means, but they believe that it's the right thing.

I might blow few minds now. Here it goes – the closest person is the one who shares with you your life experience, not the bed. NO WAY! I'm not saying than your partner can't be your friend. Spouses are not always the closest friends and the closest friends are not always spouses. You just can't screw up all Steve's emotional baggage that related to Bucky just for Peggy, which was in Steve's life, what, like 15 minutes? Steve knows Bucky since childhood, they were best friends, they supported each other, lived together, protected and saved each other many times. They share the same fate (war, serum, man out of time), there's no one who can be closer. “He loves her so much!” arguments can't erase too much of a history. It just doesn't work that way! You can't exchange one for another. A loved one can't replace your best friend, cuz of damn emotional baggage! You can have both, you can have none, but you can't trade it!

And what about Peggy? CATFA-Peggy was not a good person actually. She's whimsical and eccentric damsel. For example she shoots 1) at the experimental read not properly tested shield 2) with a chance to kill someone by ricochet 3) in enclosed space without ears protection for her or everyone else; she punches a soldier for an inappropriate commentary. And the scene in the bar shows Peggy as a simply impolite person – she ignores the soldier who just got back from captivity, it's very rude, especially when Bucky was polite with her. And on top of this I think she picked interest in Steve only after the serum. I bet Pre-serum-Steve was friendzoned for the rest of his life.

In TV-series though she appears to have a strong personality. She is an interesting character and not just love interest for Steve. She founded the S.H.I.E.L.D., had a happy fulfilled life. She let Steve go. And when she died, Steve let her go. I don't believe for a one second she is the love of his life. Staring at the photo is NOT a depiction of love. Not in my book. It's just a woman Steve once kissed.

So what went wrong? They made such a great Steve's character development, they put so much in his relationship with Bucky. Countless details, shades and layers. Every scene, every dialogue. An all of it just... puff... vanished.

Actually it wasn't so sudden as it seems. First signs of it appeared in Civil war. Did you noticed how the creators put the distance between Bucky and Steve? It's like “Hey guys! You know this whole story gets kinda pansy. We stand for cliché, for heteronormativity and happy ends! Every man got a girl! You can't have best friend, not the same sex, only hetero! So quit with the hugs end eye-fucking, more masculinity! Sebastian, you must get as thick as you can, so nobody could say you're gay. And Steve's gonna make out with a girl, just to be safe”. And this kissing scene is the most awkward I've ever seen. This weird kiss out of the blue, the fact that Sam and Bucky are watching (BTW how often do you stare at your friends kissing? Please, share at the comment section). Even actors call this scene awkward and weird, they basically hate it. And in fact that this scene wasn't it the script, it was added much later.

Then the forced friendship between Bucky and Sam. Moreover, they tried to replace Steve'n'Bucky's friendship with it. Sam rather has a chemistry with Steve, not Bucky. And the way Mackie and Stan here and there together on comic-cons where Mackie acts like he's Stan's BBF and Stan's just embarrassed. This whole all of a sudden friendship thing feels so unnatural and stretched. It's not like I don't wanna Bucky has friends and all, adaptation and stuff, But it doesn't mean Bucky doesn't need Steve, no one can replace him. And it all was only to make their friendship NO HOMO. But the way I see it, there wasn't anything gay about them (BTW I'm not a shipper and not homophobic), just some people have dead opossum's emotional range. In their head the man wants either bang you or kill you, nothing in between. I'm sure nobody took seriously the idea that they make them gay, or that they look like gay. It's just bromance. But noooooooo. They must've done this to them, cuz Happily ever after.

Eventually we got what we got. In Endgame Steve and Bucky are barely shares the screen together, even if they actually next to each other, they don't hug, don't talk, don't even look. Even after Bucky got back from the dust. It's like they never cared for each other.

Steve considered Bucky recovered after being tortured and brainwashed for 70 (it still blows my mind how long it is!) years, he's OK. No one said he's OK though, even Bucky himself. He's still the same wrecked man lost in time and his own head with tremendous weight of guilt and torn apart personality. It's not the same Bucky from 40es, and he never will be. Steve’s the only one who could break through to him, for Bucky Steve is like the ground he stands, the only guide light in this chaos that left of his life. According to Stan – Steve is the only thing that keeps Bucky alive. Well, Bucky, sorry pal, gun or rope?

Steve is an asshole. He thinks he's so special and good enough to rewrite Peggy's life (which was good for Peggy without Steve) just because he wants it. Abandons Bucky, who has nothing but Steve, abandons the world he fought for and called his home, and the friends called family. All this for the woman, who was almost nothing to him especially compared with Bucky and the others. All the things Peggy said in a hospital, all the character development and his words about the man died in the ice, new home and new family – all of it was fucked up, buried under that shit. You need to move on. Until you get a time machine. Then you can go back. So what is it? Maybe Steve never was a hero and hence he doesn't deserve our respect. Or, what is the most likely, creators think we are idiots.

Steve gives the shield to Sam. And I wouldn't mind. Why not. This job definitely is not for Bucky. He's tired, he's semi-stable 100 years old man, he had enough of war for two lifetimes. It's too much for him, it would be cruel for Bucky. Symbolism is a cool thing, but life doesn't work that way. Pep-talks don't heal. Get real, OK? Sam is a new Cap, fine, it's logical. But it's always about the How, not What.

From the moment Bucky sees the old man on the bench til the end of the movie Bucky didn't even think about to approach Steve, he sent Sam instead. They didn't talk, Steve didn't even look at him. This entire scene Bucky has this endless sadness in his eyes. There's a glimpse of a smile when he looks at Sam, but in the moment it's gone. And then it's pain and sorrow on his face again. I don't really see happy Bucky. 

Just look at his eyes and tell me you look the same when you’re happy

And actually Steve doesn't sparkle with joy either. He kinda lived his “happy life”, but there's no sign of it, especially that he refused to talk about her. 

But it's confirmed information – Peggy's mysterious husband IS Steve Rogers.In the end Bucky got this last slap on his face. Bucky asked himself if he worth all of it. NO. No, Bucky, fuck you.

I find it funny (seriously I don't) that it's the same directors and screenwriters, who did Winter soldier and Civil war. How could they screw it up? One might say “Cuz there's TV-series Falcon and Winter soldier coming, it needs to be this way”.

A few little ideas for ending that wouldn't do any harm.

Behold!

1.  If they want Steve out of it, why don't kill him? Canonic, right?

1.1 In final battle Steve is dying. He tried to shield Bucky and dying on his arms. He can give the shield to Bucky, so his broken and lost friend could have purpose in life that helps him to move on. Or he can just die and Bucky takes the shield as something in memory of Steve. And then Bucky gives the shield to Sam, like saying “I've lost it all, I've lost my friend, but you're a good guy and maybe we can become friends sometime”. If it happened like this I could in time accept Sam as a new Cap and Bucky's friend.

1.2 Or perhaps Steve, still dying, gives the shield to Sam.

2. This one is not so good idea, but OK. Steve goes to the past, his a douche. But if you want a TV-series he can’t take Bucky with him. And it's still the same – Steve gives the shield, doesn't matter who would it be (pick anyone you like). But Steve can’t leave without saying goodbye.

Oh my god! It's two of it and we still got the TV show! Fascinating! And there is more of it.

3. Oh that's the good one. The one with the Steve we know and love. Steve stays. Steve goes to the past to return the infinity stones. Steve could allow himself just a moment to be selfish and have that dance with Peggy, or stay for not so long, a year maybe. And then he must go back, knowing that there are people who need him more, than Peggy. Of course if Steve is young, fit and tight, he won't retire. But Sam and Bucky are still with us, they're cool enough to have a TV-show.      

4. And what if like this? Shuri did the research to find a way to clear Bucky's head from the Hydra's code. What if she did? Or what if with Hydra's code some memories are gone too? Maybe Bucky could be an antagonist.

And just for me. We don't care about the money, and give Steve and Bucky the final they deserve.

1. Bucky and Steve dying fighting together. The most obvious and sad final. Till the end of the line

2. Bucky dies. It's tragic for Steve and he could say “I've lost it all”, and goes to Peggy. A little OOC, but not so bad.

3. What if we go back to that brain-cleaning option? Steve dies, but Bucky's so broken he can't stand it, and he goes to Shuri so she could wipe up his memory. Tragically and symbolically, cuz first time he was forced to forget Steve's alive, and now he does it voluntarily to forget Steve's dead.

I'm not a screenwriter, and my head's not crowded with ideas. But this is still better than what we've got in the Endgame. I could step on my own throat and accept the Endgame only if Bucky says that Steve is a traitor and he hates him. I'm not saying that Steve doesn't deserve this dance or happy ending. He does. Everybody Does. Everybody've suffered enough. But Steve doesn't deserve to become such an asshole. Bucky doesn't deserve to be forsaken in such a way. 

Honestly, I don't care about forced bromance with Sam, or Sharon, even love interest for Bucky (it would be kinda specific I guess). They could do anything, but they can't throw away Bucky and Steve. These characters are alive, their world is real. Sometimes happy ending is impossible. And if you force it, you can ruin everything. And this is what they actually did.

And it just bugs me – why, why did they do this? Maybe it's too much pressure and they screwed up. Or maybe it's Big studio' bosses. You know maybe if they just shut up about it.. time heals you know. But it gets worse. On the interview directors says one thing and screenwriters say the other, they all can't string sentense together. And only Bucky's face speaks for himself. I mean did you see this fresh Sebastian's panel at London comic-con? I’ll show you few moments, but you've got to watch the whole thing (https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=5&v=-KQpzG49exM). When he asks the audience did they like the movie, many people say “No!”, when he approves the final of Endgame one shout “Liar!”. Look at the body language. You'll see how he sincerely and emotionally talks about anything.  As soon as it comes to Endgame, he is immediately clamped, his leg begins to twitch.

The previous question was that he was interested in - what kind of heroes he wants to play. Therefore, he sits on the edge of the couch, leaning over to the public. The next question about the final and Steve going to Peggy. He immediately moves and leans back, he covers his belly with hand. The question is unpleasant to him.

Then the speech becomes confused, although before that it flowed freely, he literally gasps as if he doesn't know what to say, his micro-mimic denies his words.

He says he agrees with the final, Bucky is happy, Steve deserves it. But his body screams just the opposite - a sharp wave of his hand and chin say "no"

And this is the worst one. On the words “He (Bucky) was happy,” his whole pose just screams “NO!”. This insincere smile, this tilt of the head and a slight denying swaying. All this says more than any words

It's so obvious that he so tired of it. I bet that under the contract, he has no right to scold the movie and must promote the policy of the studio. But when he said that “Bucky was happy for Steve” .... This is the most forced smile I've ever seen. This is the most unconvincing lie in my memory. You can see just right through it, it's like an open book. But he has to do it, because crossing with the Big Studio Boss when your career just went uphill is not the best idea. The truth is important, but the dream is too. He started the career since the age of 15, which is quite long, considering this is not such a brilliant career, but he definitely worked so hard for it. So he caught between the hammer and an anvil now. On the one hand, acting career is the only thing for him, on the other hand studio bosses who can bury the dream, and on top of it the fans who are looking for his support. So "Steve is happy, Bucky is happy, awesome film, kill me, please!". By the way where is his best buddy Mackie? Why Seb's cleaning this mess all by himself? Seeing him like this just breaks my heart

And I honestly do not understand the people who liked it. How can you not see all this?? And there are those who claim that we didn’t like Endgame because we didn’t see any movies at all and didn’t read comic-books. There are Stucky fans who liked Endgame. Are the clichés so strong that people just don’t see all this... The story of Bucky and Steve was way too deep. Bucky is too tragic and well-developed character for a superhero comic-book story. All this deserved so much more. And the creators simply could not finish the job; mass cinema is simple and flat and it's made that way on purpose. They pull the most primitive triggers, so that people do not have to think. The most simple patterns help to reach more people. In other words, they are doing everything to raise more money. And it works. Thus we’ll get more of it in the future. No doubt about that.

For me, Endgame marked the victory of the corporate moneymaking machine over creativity. And the box office speaks for itself. It's an awful world to live in...

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

Mini rant on how I’m doing today down under the read more. You absolutely don’t have to read it or respond. I just wanna word vomit somewhere. Pls be safe today.

I’ve been having a dilemma. For a little back story. All my life I have been the “Black sheep” of my family. Literally as I am a goth in a conservative family. Since I was a young pre-teen I was told to change. Family members would question why I look the way I do and why I like the things I like. Even going as far as telling my parents they should get me to change. I was told to be like my c ousins. Dress nice,not dramatic. Speak Greek like a good girl. Eventually date a Greek boy,etc. This family has a lot of expectations.

With the coming Elections I know things will be a nightmare. My family is pro-T all the way and has openly been this way since the last presidential election. My mother,my siblings and I are not this way. We all have always been the ‘outsiders’ in a way. Not fitting into my family’s mold. For that,I’m thankful. But as the only remaining member of this group stuck with the rest of the conservative family (yes,including my father) I am in a tough spot. I’ve been told more than once I should stop getting tattoos and it has been hinted that they are ugly. I’ve been told to stop dying my hair crazy colors and to grow up. They don’t even know I’m Bi. They accept my sister (who is a lesbian and in a loving relationship with a sweet girl) but make lesbian jokes as if they’re funny to anyone other than them. 

Every time politics came up,I stayed out of the situation. I know my ideals don’t line up with theirs. And with my family it isn’t any presidential debate. No. I’m just wrong. And they tell me why I’m wrong and try to change my mind. That isn’t a debate or discussion. That is control. They can not see the toxic and vile things the cheeto has done to this country. They turn a blind eye. The biggest T supporters in my family,of course,are the wealthiest of us all and have always been this way. Not saying wealth is the leading factor to supporting a dictator but damn if it doesn’t help.

When the last presidential election happened I didn’t proudly say I voted Blue. I didn’t flaunt it. For the fact that I didn’t want to have to deal with my family’s backlash. They follow me on social media not to keep up with my but to pretty much see what I’m up to and report back to my father if I do something they didn’t enjoy. I’m tired of keeping quiet. I’m tired of being unliked in my family. I’m tired of being told to change. I’m tired of being around these people that suck so much out of me. It’s a leading cause of why I want to move. I want family (my chosen family) who loves me for who I am and doesn’t ask me to change. My friends on here (Mama Viv,DoeDoe,Von,AJ,J,Emi and Dirt to name a few) love me for who I am and have vocally supported their Goth Wife/Goth Daughter as they call me. Somehow my own blood can’t even have the curtesy to not voice their opinions of me. And recently someone I deemed a best friend (irl) has made it known she openly votes Red twice now and supports the T in office. It blows my mind as she isn’t that different from me. Tattoos,piercings,dyed hair and kinky af. Any Republican would turn their nose at her. And she does nothing to educate herself. She only goes off of what she hears from Facebook and most of the time her sentences begin with “Facebook/someone at the bar told me.” this isn’t right. She refuses to properly educate herself and the first time a red flag went off for me was when the BLM movement first began (and is still ongoing). She never posted about it once and at one point said it was too “messy” and she didn’t want to be a part of it. Yet claims to be friends with one of my best friends,a black trans man. It has bothered me for some time now. I love her. She’s supported me. But I can’t take the ignorance. I refuse to. So I’m distancing myself from her because i can’t stomach to be friends with someone who would ignore so much hate along with the plans that her beloved president want to do that directly affect her. 

This Election day I am proudly showing that I’m voting Blue. I’m voting Biden. It will cause waves in my family. Especially if things don’t go how we want. I’m stuck here until I have the funds to move (whenever that will fucking be). I’ve even considered making a donation thing on my page and doing commissions of some sort or opening a shop. I need to get out of here. So please,go vote today. Be kind to one another. Those that are POC or LGBTQ pls be careful. Vote and stay inside. We don’t know what might happen today.

[prudypru]

                                                 The Apology

So I got this sad af idea while listening to my favorite song from Book of Life. It’s probably a bit out of character, but maybe not? Who knows? Anyway, have at it, hope you like it~ (I changed a few lyrics to fit the scene coughcough)

Thick fog engulfed the town square of Dorado, lights stringed up shined through like a faint dream. The air was quiet, the small town abandoned of life. A figure emerged through the darkness, ragged and worn. Reaper groaned as he made his way to the tall memorial in the middle of the square.

He knew the others weren't too far off, they would be here soon to finish him off for good; there was nowhere left to run. No backup, no one to call upon, No one.

This was the end.

Reaper stumbled his steps, his footing slipping as he went crashing to the ground. He let out a strangled cry, reaching down to clutch at his gut. Black, tar like substance seeped through his armor, staining his gauntlet and the ground below.

With a pained grunt, he reached for the lip of the fountain, pulling himself up to rest against the aged stone. His breaths went ragged and short, regenerating lungs struggling to keep up, but whatever they shot him with prevented him from fully healing. Reaper coughed until he felt liquid rise from his throat, yet he didn't bother removing his mask to wipe it away.

The wraith sat there, thinking about anything and everything. He thought about all of the lives he took, the innocent people that had to suffer under his hand. Time and time again, he told himself that it was the right thing to do, to put an end to all the lives that ended his and countless others; a twisted sense of justice, he thought. But looking back on it now, he realized just how wrong he was.

He thought about Ana, how she wanted to help him, and the way she looked at him that day the three crossed paths. The fear in her eyes, the concern and worry in her voice.

Then, he thought about Jack.

Reaper growled but winced when it became too much. Another cough, another round of tar. Another tired sigh.

Morrison. Soldier: 76. Jack. He wanted to believe he still hated him, that all of this was his fault. But he couldn't bring himself to believe that, not now.

Deep down, he missed them. He missed all of them. But most of all, he missed the man he once loved. His sunshine, his home from home.

He felt tired, worn down physically and mentally. He just wanted it all to end. No more fighting, no more death. God, no more souls, he couldn't handle another soul. The endless cries of sorrows every night almost driving him to the brink of madness.

Reaper clutched at his head with a clawed hand before letting his arm fall back to his side. He looked around the quiet town, long since evacuated due to Overwatch's surprise ambush. He watched as the fog drifted around him, blurry vision watching the lights bounce off from surface to surface. A glint of silver nagged at the corner of his eyes, head turning to see. He let out a deep chuckle. Leaning against the fountain beside him, was an old and worn guitar. The paint long since faded, yet its strings shined with life.

Reaper looked to the sky, wondering if someone up there was mocking him, reminding him of old memories from decades ago. How he made everyone smile and sing along, no matter what he played.

It was then, that the dying man finally thought: It was time.

With a deep breath, he gripped the edge of the fountain and pulled himself up to sit at the edge. He almost lost his vision and balance from the immense pain that shot through his decaying body, yet he swallowed the scream that dared to fill the night.

He panted, trying to regain composure, palms pressing down against the bleeding wound. Once his breathing finally calmed down, Reaper grasped at his gauntlets, unclasping the locks and letting them fall to the ground, the talons clinking against the street. He reached for the guitar, ignoring the smoke that wrapped around his decaying and regenerating fingers.

The air was filled with soft strums of strings, the guitar pre tuned to Reaper's amusement. He paused to settle his shaking hands, before playing a soft tune.

My friend, I am humble, for tonight I understand. Your royal blood was never meant to decorate this sand. You suffered great injustice, so have thousands before you.

Reaper sucked in a shuddered breath, his lungs on fire. But he didn't stop.

I offer an apology, and one long overdue.

He closed his eyes and took a deep ragged breath. Black fog mingled with white.

Quiet footsteps slowly made their way up the street, red visor glowing through the fog like a beacon. Soldier 76 raised his rifle and followed the sound circling through the streets. He spotted his target by the memorial, Reaper's back turned toward him, slumped forward. Jack was about to shout, aiming his weapon at the back of the wraith's head, until he heard a broken deep voice sing out.

I am sorry.

My friend, I am sorry. Hear my song, and know I sing the truth. Although we were bred to fight I reach for kindness in your heart tonight

Jack froze in place, listening to the man sing as the soft melody surrounded him. He lowered his weapon, yet still kept his guard up, eyes not leaving the man he once knew.

And if you can forgive, and if you can forgive Love can truly live. And if you can forgive, and if you can forgive Love can truly live.

He knew he was there. Reaper could feel it, sense his strong willed soul nearby.

Yet he didn't stop to turn around, didn't stop singing or playing. He was determined to see this through, even if it killed him then and there.

His lungs were on fire, everything was on fire. He must have plucked the wrong string once or twice when the pain became too much. His voice became hoarse and strained, yet he kept going, knowing the other was listening.

My friend, I am frightened, but I'll use my final breath To tell you that I'm sorry, let us end this dance of death. Three long decades of agony, that to your heart I sent Here and now with my amends, the senseless killing ends.

Jack felt his throat close up as his hands gripped his weapon tightly. Slowly, he made his way towards the shadow in the mist, the lights overhead casting an almost angelic glow against the monstrous creation. He lowered his weapon again, no longer worried of what was to come. He continued to listen quietly.

I am sorry. Mi Sol, I am sorry. Hear my song, and know I sing the truth. Although we were bred to fight I reach for kindness in your heart tonight.

Jack let out an unsteady breath at hearing that nickname. It's been so long since he's heard it, it made him falter. He finally moved his weapon away, letting it slide from his grip to the ground, not caring if the other heard him advancing closer.

And if you can forgive, and if you can forgive Love can truly live. And if you can forgive, and if you can forgive Love can truly live.

The soldier reached for his visor, sliding it off and letting it join his weapon on the ground. He was so close to him now he could feel the thick black fog in the air swim around his body, yet he didn't feel threatened.

And if you can forgive, and if you can forgive Love can truly live. And if you can forgive, and if you can forgive Love, Love will truly live.

Jack was beside him then, looking down at the defeated man he's become. With a final strum of the strings, Gabriel stared down at the decorated tile, not wanting to look the other man in the eye. Jack rested a hand on Gabriel's shoulder firmly, yet tenderly.

“Gabriel.”

Gabriel bit at his bile covered lip at the sound of his name in Jack's somber voice. He set the guitar aside, tried to stand up, groaning in pain when it strained his injury and decided to just stay seated. He felt the hand on his shoulder tighten.

Jack's face softened “Gabriel. Did you mean it? What you said then. Do you truly believe it?” he questioned, his voice threatening to waver. But he kept up his strong facade a bit longer. He needed to know the truth, needed to know if there was still a small part of his best friend in there.

Gabriel stayed quiet, his gaze still kept toward the ground. It was like that for a while, both men in a quiet standoff. Jack sighed and moved to retreat, about to give up hope on ever reaching his long gone partner. He went to remove his hand from the other, but went stiff when a discolored, regenerating hand grasped his own.

“Yes.” came the quiet raspy reply.

Jack looked back down at the shadow, not making a move to pull away from the hold. So he waited, waited for what else Gabriel had to say. Gabriel took a moment to regain his thoughts, his hand tightening against Jack's gloved hold, his thumb rubbing against the worn leather on the knuckles.

When he felt like he was ready, he let go of Jack's hand. He reached up with trembling, clammy hands to his mask, finding the latches and unlocking both. He pulled the mask away, noting the black stains on the inside, before dropping it to his feet.

Jack's hand was still tightening against his shoulder as he continued. He grabbed his hood next and pulled it down; black smoke emitted from its enclosure, while patches of dark curls sprung free. Healed and open wounds scarred his face and scalp. Where there wasn't hair, there was skin trying desperately to regenerate.

Jack held his breath as soulless, milky eyes peered up at him, what was left of his brows were drawn close together.

“I meant every word, Jack. I know I'll never be forgiven for the things I've done, the souls I've taken, but I'm done running.” Jack searched Gabriel's eyes for anything that could give him away, any malicious intent or hidden agenda.

He saw nothing. Absolutely nothing. All he saw was regret. Remorse for all of the sins he's committed against the people he once trusted.

His family.

His home.

“I'm so. . . tired, Jack. So damn tired. I. . I miss. .” Gabriel stopped himself, feeling a fresh wave of black sludge building up inside, the pain coming back around. He growled and swallowed it all down “goddamn it, I miss everything.”

Jack was deathly silent, his hand grasping onto Gabriel as if it was a lifeline. He knew things would never go back to how they were, how could they? After everything that's happened, all the trouble they've gone through and caused each other, how could they just brush it all under the carpet and pretend it never happened?

No, Jack decided, it will never be the same.

But, somehow, he kept clinging on to hope.

Hope that they could finally bring justice to the monster that was the Reaper. And hope that they could still save their friend, his partner, Gabriel Reyes. If the other was willing to give himself up just like that, then there was still hope. There had to be.

“Gabe.” He hadn't heard that name in years. Gabriel looked up once more, the stern look Jack Morrison was known for, softening, breaking, until there was a tired fondness in his eyes, “I forgive you.”

Those words alone could have made Gabriel break then and there. And he did.

Gabriel bowed his head, a hand reached up to hold Jack's as he shut his eyes tight. Jack felt an entire weight lift off his shoulders, the air around him feeling more open, no longer constricting.

The fog cleared, along with the black mist. The lights above them shined through, enveloping them in a warm golden glow. Jack looked to Gabriel then, ignoring the wet droplets that continued to fall between the other's boots and splash against the macabre mask.

“Come on,” He leaned down and gently wrapped an arm around Gabriel's waist, making sure as to not agitate his wounds, and hoisting him up gently. Gabriel kept his head down, but kept a tight grip on the other, his figure shifting in and out as he tried to stay conscious. Jack made sure he was still with him before setting off toward the others, leaving only their shadows behind; Soldier 76, and the Reaper.

“Let's go home.”