#no one in our class would know we’re talking about space cowboys if we just said “a concept album”. Plausible deniability

[usinguntiligetmyaccountback-blog]

Me hearing someone in my Arthurian lit class ask if they can write about “a concept album” instead of movie adaptation of Arthurian myth for the extra credit project

[winterscaptain]

dead man’s hand.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: our 52 pickup ajf episode! i dunno about yall, but i was so excited to get my hands on viper in this universe. he’s ridiculous, and i think he deserves to be absolutely put to shame by aaron “BDE” hotchner. 

a joyful future fic, but requires little context. 

words: 5k warnings: canon-typical misogyny, language, improper comm conduct, emily prentiss: lesbian icon™

summary: your first case back to full duties after your injury at the septarian ranch just had to take you undercover, didn’t it?

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You’re happy to be back in your usual plane seat, just to the left of Aaron, with your notes in your lap. With your arm in the sling, you were relegated to the table, in Derek’s usual spot beside Rossi, to discourage you from slouching. It was Hotch who suggested it, of course, but that didn’t help your pride. 

Though your sling is gone and you’re back where you belong, your shoulder still twinges a little from time to time. 

As it happens, a twinge hits you right as Rossi asks, “How does our unsub go from loser of the year to Don Juan?”

While Spencer answers him, Hotch glances over at you. You wave him off. I’m fine, Hotch. 

He sighs and you both tune back in to Spencer. “...Don Juan was an ironic reversal of sex roles and when -” Spencer looks at Hotch, finding something in his face that usually made you laugh, but stops Spencer in his tracks. “Th-That’s about it.” 

You suppress your smile as Hotch refocuses the group. “Something must have happened between the last prostitute and Vanessa Holden, making him change his victimology.” 

“Could the unsub have known Vanessa?” Jordan’s question almost surprises you. She’s still settling in, but you’re learning she doesn’t hesitate to freely share her opinion. 

Hotch hesitates, as if waiting for someone else to answer. You oblige him, leaning around Dave a bit to see her better. “It’s unlikely.” 

Derek picks up your thought. “Yeah, sexual sadists attack anonymously”

“They have to sever a personal connection and see their victims as objects to perpetrate this level of torture.” Spencer softens your quick rebukes with a little closed-mouth smile. 

You spare a glance for Hotch and he raises his eyebrows for a split second before they drop back down. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and you press into him for a second. Be nice. 

He huffs a light breath through his nose as Prentiss and Rossi bounce off each other. I am being nice. 

Then, as though your silent sidebar never existed, he jumps back in. “The victimology is so different, we’ll treat them as separate unsubs and see what overlaps.” He makes assignments, finally rounding out by assigning Derek, you, Jordan, and himself to the victim’s family. 

+++

Todd’s initiative continues to take you by surprise long after you land. She takes command of the situation at the precinct, and there are a couple of times where you can feel Hotch shift his weight. 

He’s uncomfortable. 

When Jordan leaves the room, you turn to the side and he leans in. “If you’re going to pull her, do it quietly. Something tells me she’s adverse to public criticism.” 

He nods, just a little, and you return to your former posture. 

The house is where things get really sticky. 

“Mrs. Holden,” she says, “we can’t begin to fathom the loss you’ve suffered.” 

You nudge Hotch with your shoulder (ouch) and he uncrosses his arms. Loosen up for a minute, would you?

“No, that’s right. You can’t.” Mrs. Holden’s tone is sharp, and you can’t help but feel for her - the stuff Garcia sent over was awful. A daughter, dead, and forums full of people saying you had it coming. Ugh. 

“But, um…” Jordan steps up, and you narrow your eyes a little. 

What is she doing? 

“I lost my older sister in a car crash.” You can feel Derek’s brow furrow as he checks in with Hotch. Aaron has yet to move and, as usual, his face gives nothing away to anyone except you. Something’s wrong. “And it was really hard on our family because she was the responsible one. She was the one that my mother always counted on to watch over us.” 

Your eyes flicker to Hotch’s profile, and you find his mouth a touch tighter, his eyes infinitesimally narrower.

Uh oh. 

We know that look. 

Again, what is she doing? 

“And when she died, my mother wouldn’t let the police in. If she didn’t let them in, then my sister wasn’t really dead.” Jordan leans in closer, as if her next words are a secret. “This man is a monster,” Aaron straightens with an inhale, and you feel yourself wind tighter and tighter as he does. You have no idea what you’re upset about yet, but you’re sure it's something. “...and we can catch him, but we need your daughter’s help.”

The mother turns on Derek in an outburst of pre-emptive anger. He very kindly de-escalates the situation, ever the voice of reason and empathy. Hotch takes another breath as Mrs. Holden turns to invite you further into the house. Jordan checks in with Derek before following her, almost smug. 

Aaron’s brows are drawn when you look at him again. Derek asks the question you’ve been waiting for. “Did you know that about Jordan?”

“No,” he says. “And neither did she. According to her file, she’s an only child.” Hotch walks away immediately, letting his implicit accusation hang in the air between you. 

You share a look with Derek. 

+++

“The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister, where did you get that?”

You try to stay a little ahead of them, but Derek has no qualms about openly eavesdropping, turning over his shoulder. 

Her tone is matter-of-fact. “Some of it was online, and some of it was just an educated guess based on birth order.”

Still facing forward, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, as if bracing yourself for impact. 

“A guess.” Hotch’s question is flat and hardly a question at all. You almost cringe. Derek hops up beside you, much less interested in snooping now. 

Shit. You’re in it now, kid. 

‘Kid.’ Gimme a break she’s like...two years younger than you.

Yeah, but on this team, it’s dog years. The divorce alone had to be at least a decade.

“And in the process, you lied.” 

There it is. 

“That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport.” The note of defensiveness in Jordan’s tone pulls a sigh from you, and you can almost anticipate Hotch’s response. If pressed, you could recite it verbatim. 

“I don’t know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don’t make it a habit to lie to get the job done.” They stop walking, but you don’t, pulling Derek by the sleeve of his Henley before he can hesitate. 

“Let’s wait by the car,” you tell him. He gives you an expression that only says yikes. You reply with one of your own. 

As you approach the back door, you hear, “I got you in the door, didn’t I?” from Jordan.

Oh babe. Put the shovel down. This hole you’re digging for yourself is becoming unmanageable, and we’re all going to have to deal with his grumpy ass for the rest of the afternoon if you don’t quit. 

Derek leans against the door of the car, and you follow his lead, leaning against the back bumper. 

“Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team - ”

Ah, so it's the “representing the team with integrity” speech today.

 “ - to the press, the police, and to the families who are struggling with some of the hardest times of their lives. If you get caught in a lie, the trust we depend on to help solve these crimes disappears.” You inhale, sharp. It’s been a minute since you’ve heard that tone. “Do I make myself clear?” 

Yikes. 

Jordan, looking significantly chastised, answers, “It won’t happen again.” 

“No, it won’t.” 

Alright, that one pulls a smile from you and you do your best to bite back your laugh. Derek’s in the same boat. You both hope to recover by the time they get back to the car. A fit of giggles will do you absolutely no good at this point. 

“When we get back, I want you to prepare a press release about the unsub. Do not release it.” His phone rings, and he reaches for it, adding “From now on, everything goes through me.”

He passes you without meeting your eye, talking to Rossi over the phone. Jordan approaches you, and asks, “So how bad did I just screw up?”

You take a breath before answering. “Well, Derek would tell you on a normal scale of one to ten, probably about a six.” 

“I have a feeling that’s not the scale we’re using.”

You shake your head and open the door. “On Hotch’s, that was about an eleven.” 

The three of you slide into the car. You take the seat behind Derek, sparing Aaron from having Jordan in his peripheral vision while he’s trying to focus on not crashing the car. 

+++

“Hotch,” Emily says, getting your attention and Aaron’s. You both turn. “Of the self-described pickup artist classes in the area, there’s only one guy who encourages his students to dress like, uh..” she searches for a word for a second, “space cowboys.” 

A laugh escapes you, but you recover quickly. You glance at Hotch, an apology in your eyes.

Emily’s tone matches your mirth. “Are you ready to meet Viper?”

+++

The four of you lurk at the back of the room, listening to Viper’s sermon while trying not to laugh out loud again. 

“...and women, while they won’t admit it, want to be hunted. They need it.” 

You look up at Hotch. You’ve got to be kidding me. 

He doesn’t look at you, but the twitch of his mouth gives him away. 

You turn your attention back to Viper, who’s assertions are so far gone from reality you can’t even believe people paid for this. He goes on and on about the ideal mate, what women want, etc. etc. etc. 

This guy has never gotten laid in his life. 

Hotch nudges you with his shoulder as if he can hear you thinking, and you drop your eyebrows, setting your mouth in a tight line that could give him a run for his money. 

Emily’s losing it beside you, too. She and Derek have shared more than a few glances, and there’s no hiding the incredulous look on her face. 

“If you are smarter and more interesting, you will be a better predator -”

You keep your face from screwing up in a wince, but only just. Poor choice of words, there. 

“- because this is the jungle, my friends, and your prey wants to be caught.”

Derek doesn’t shift his gaze as he asks, quietly, “Would you listen to that language?”

You lean around Emily, whispering, “He’s training serial killers.” 

“Great,” Emily says. “We’re dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman.” 

Yeah, that about sums it up. 

You both look at Hotch, who’s still watching carefully. “Just one more thing he has in common with our unsub.” 

At the end of the lecture you all stay where you are: four dark and intimidating figures irresistible to someone with an ego as big as Viper’s.

When he inevitably advances on you, Aaron introduces the team present and explains the situation in an even, measured tone. He doesn’t have to change a single thing about his presentation for the Viper to size him up and compensate accordingly. He doesn’t even acknowledge you or Emily in his futile effort to make Aaron feel small, counting on his own peacocking to do the job. 

That was your first mistake.

“So you think this - what did you call him - unsub took my class?”

With one hand in his pocket and another on his belt, Aaron replies. “He copied your ‘the camera adds ten pounds’ routine verbatim.” 

Viper has the audacity to look pleased. “Yeah. That’s a good gag.”

“If you could just give us your attendance lists, it might help us find him,” Emily says. 

You nod. “Any information you can provide would be helpful.”

“No.” 

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, and Emily beats you to a response, her tone appalled. “No?”

He’s decidedly smug now. You’ve never seen a face so well-suited for a punch. “My clients expect a certain amount of confidentiality. I won’t compromise that.” 

“We can come back with a warrant.” Aaron’s quick, flat rebuttal almost makes you smile. Viper ignores him, shifting his slimy attention to you.

You watch Viper take you in from head to toe, resisting the urge to squirm under his gaze. With a deep breath, you straighten your shoulders and ever so slightly put more weight on your right foot, keying you in to Aaron. When Viper meets your gaze again, he looks more than a little annoyed. 

“Be my guest, but keep in mind, the money I make doesn’t just pay for my fabulous lifestyle,” he turns to Emily again, “it also keeps very expensive lawyers on retainer.”

You redirect, hoping to catch him off guard. “What club did you go to last night?”

It doesn’t work. He eyes you up and down again. It’s disgusting. 

“It’s a legitimate question,” Derek says. “You seem to know a lot about our investigation.”

He turns on Derek, and you settle in for the show. “Two things to learn about me. First, I outwit alpha males like you for fun and sometimes profit.” You snort, but he doesn’t spare a glance at you. “How often do you have to rely on your badge to score, baldy?”

Aaron huffs a laugh, and it’s so quiet you’re almost sure you made it up. 

“Second,” he continues, turning to Emily again. “Last night, I was at Club Aqua and I have a stack of tax-deductible drink receipts to back up my story.” 

She shrugs, unimpressed. 

Emily Prentiss, you are my hero. 

You really tune in when his gaze finds Aaron, still standing a good two or three inches taller than Viper in far more expensive shoes. “Now, you might not want to believe that my style works.” You can tell Aaron’s trying to keep from smiling, his head tilted down at a condescending angle. “And here, in this harsh light, you have the advantage.” 

He has the advantage in every light. 

Shut up. 

It’s true, isn't it?

Viper steps up to you, uncomfortably close, and you do what you can to keep the grimace off your face. “But meet me on my turf…” He laughs a little and turns to Emily. It’s revolting. “The things I could make you do.”

The things Aaron could do on any turf, any time, any light -

Quit! Focus! 

Aaron steps between you and Viper. You gladly take advantage of the distance, moving just off Aaron’s shoulder. “If you have any questions, give us a call.” 

Viper’s eyes don’t move from Emily as he takes Aaron’s card. She sizes him up for a moment before turning around, still completely unimpressed. 

Down the hallway, she keeps pace with Hotch. “Please tell me we’re not giving up on that guy.” 

“We’re just getting started.” 

You can tell he’s irritated and tense, but there’s an air of smug amusement that colors his countenance. The lawyer has tricks up his sleeve, it seems. 

When you leave the building, you turn on Derek. 

“What the fuck was that?”

To everyone’s surprise, Aaron, putting his sunglasses on, answers. “Compensation.”

You try not to dwell on that implication for too long, barking a laugh with Emily.

+++

“Hey, Hotch.” You turn around, exposing your half-unzipped dress and bare upper back. “Can you zip me up?” He crosses the room and zips your dress, doing his best to avoid savoring the warmth of your skin under his fingers as he links the hook-and-eye closed. “Thanks.” You turn and he’s a little closer than you expected, looking at you with a peculiar, unreadable expression in his eyes. 

There’s silence for a moment and neither one of you moves. No matter how often it occurred, close proximity to Aaron always did weird things to your heart rate. You take a deep breath to steady yourself and return to the locker for a set of loud silver bracelets. 

“You’d tell me if you were uncomfortable with this, right?”

You clasp two of the bracelets around your wrist and turn back toward him. A little laugh leaves you. “I’m fine, Hotch.” You wordlessly hold your last two bracelets out, unable to secure them with your non-dominant hand. With a fond sigh, he crosses over to you and takes your wrist.

“Emily told me you’d both be alright and she’s handled people like this before, but this guy…” He trails off with a bit of sigh. 

“I’ve handled worse than him. Guys like Viper were a dime a dozen in college,” You shrug, watching him deftly handle the tiny clasps in his large hands. “Plus, you’ll be in my ear the whole time.” He reaches past you for your necklace and you turn around so he can put it on. He smells incredible and you can't help but close your eyes for a moment. 

“I have a good feeling we’ll be able to get somewhere tonight.”

You turn around again, smiling up at him. “I agree.” Thinking for just a second, you add, “Hotch, did you consider putting Jordan on this?”

“I did,” he says, his fingers reaching for the bridge of his nose. “Emily suggested it as well. I’m just not confident in her ability to complete surveillance in such a high-risk environment.” 

“Because of her mistake today?” You pass him and close the door to the room, ensuring the exclusion of prying eyes and ears. 

He removes his hand from his face and looks at you, playing at exhaustion. Of course.

You let all your breath out through your nose and you carry on as if you were explaining to a child. “She can’t recover if you don’t give her an opportunity.” You lighten up, adding, “Do you remember how many times I screwed up my first couple of months?” A wry smile crosses your face. 

He huffs and crosses his arms. “That’s different.” 

“Why? Because I was a NAT?” 

“No, you -” He takes a second to collect his thoughts, his brow furrowed. He gestures with a sharp, open hand as he speaks. “You made mistakes, but you never misrepresented yourself. I’m concerned about her conduct in the field.” 

“Send her out with us tonight.” Your appeal is casual, easy. “Emily and I will keep an eye on her and make sure she keeps her nose clean.” All things considered, Jordan isn’t much of an issue. She’s just green and (you’re sure) accustomed to a decidedly less-upright unit chief. 

“Are you comfortable with that?”

“Of course. Give her a chance, Hotch. We’ll be fine.” 

He nods, ready to leave the room, but then looks down at your wrist with a small, almost amused, frown. “Is that…?”

��The Dead Man’s Hand? Yeah.” You turn your wrist, revealing a pair of eights and aces - both clubs and spades, with the queen of hearts between them - inlaid in the silver. “I figured it was appropriate, if not entirely tasteless.” 

“Clever.” 

+++

You can tell Jordan’s forgotten about the comm in her ear when she leans over and whispers, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You keep your eyes on the crowd, lips barely moving as you keep a demure smile on your face. A guy without a chance in hell catches your eye and you break him with just a quick softening of your eyes and a wider smile. Luckily, he’s so flustered he doesn’t think to approach you.

She takes a fake sip of her drink. “You and Hotch get along really well, and I haven’t managed to get on his good side once since I’ve been here. How do you do it?”

“I have no idea.” There’s a small crackle in your ear, and you know Aaron tuned into your private channel to hear you better and talk to you alone. For his benefit, you add, “I’m not sure he has a good side, if that helps.” 

You hear a scoff and have to hide your laugh in your drink. 

Jordan shakes her head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?”

“He definitely has a good side -” 

“Thank you,” Hotch says into your ear. You cough to hide another laugh. 

“- and you’re on it.” 

You open your mouth to reply, but catch the eye of someone who looks unfortunately familiar. “You’ve got to be joking.”

Hotch’s chuckle in your ear warms you, and you hear a crackle as he switches back to the team channel. “20 on Viper,” he says. “Keep an eye out for our unsub.” 

Emily wilts beside you, and you can’t help but laugh. You pull Jordan a little off to the side so you’re able to hear Viper, but he doesn’t feel closed in. “You always want to give guys like this an out - if they’re backed into a corner and feel trapped, they close off and get defensive.” 

A crackle in your ear. “Is that so?”

Jordan nods and you can’t reply to Hotch with any degree of subtlety, so you settle for rolling your eyes. 

“Well.” You hear Viper from over your shoulder. Jordan cringes, and your brow pulls in a question. “Lucky me.”

She answers, narrating through a squint. “He just put his finger in his mouth and pulled it out a little too slow.” 

“Ugh.” You take a fake sip of your drink. “I hate this guy.” 

“I thought you said you could handle him?” Aaron’s voice in your ear almost makes you jump, and you almost turn around to smack him before realizing he’s not even there. 

Bastard. 

Emily sends some sort of wisecrack flying over Viper’s head. She’s so charming, you can’t blame him for immediately falling head-over-dick for her. 

“...So, affection, sex, emotional committment, it’s all just for fun?”

Against your will, your thoughts wander. You’re still listening, tuned in to his linguistic profile - the pattern, the rhetoric, the cadence, sure - but your heart pulls when you hear Emily list those three things. A sigh leaves you and of course you’re thinking of Aaron. 

You’re such a child. Don’t be an idiot. 

“You okay?” 

Of course he’s asking. 

You turn away from Jordan, looking out on the rest of the club so you can answer. “I’m fine.” 

“Need a break?”

You are feeling a little boxed-in, and as long as he’s offering… “Yeah, actually. That would be great. I just need some air.” You turn back to Jordan. “I’ll be right back - stay with Emily.” 

“But wait,” she says, holding your arm with gentle fingers, “we shouldn’t split up.”

“I just need a minute outside, Jordan, I’ll be alright.” You smile at her, small and warm, and escape her grasp. Slipping out one of the side doors, you prop it with a doorstop and lean against the wall. Your eyes fall closed, and you take a minute to breathe in the cold air. 

You hear your name in your ear, and you yank your earwig out. It's still close enough for you to hear the team if anyone needed you, but Aaron’s voice in your ear at this very moment isn’t helping with the whole “take a minute” thing. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” 

I thought I took that damn thing out - oh. 

Aaron rounds the corner and leans on the wall beside you. “You okay?”

You nod. “Fine. My shoulder’s just bugging me a little.” 

“Any more lies you want to share before I call you on them?” 

“No.” In fairness, your shoulder was bothering you, but it wasn’t the thing bothering you. That thing, in fact, was standing beside you with his kevlar on, waiting patiently for you to continue. “I’m just out of shape, is all.” You tilt your head a little. “And my shoulder really does hurt.” 

He guides you off the wall so you’re standing in front of him, your back to him. “What have you been doing in PT?”

“Muscle work, mostly. Keeping things loose so it heals without limiting my mobility.” You roll your shoulder, ignoring the flood of pain that zings down your fingertips. 

Warm hands find their way to your shoulder over the fabric of your dress. You picked something long-sleeved and high-necked, figuring the angry scarring from your still-healing gunshot wound would adversely affect your objective. You take deep breaths as he works at the muscle, releasing the little knots that built up through the day. He finds a bit of scar tissue, and a little yelp leaves you before you can stop it. 

His hands soften, but don’t stop. “Hang in there. Just a little more and it’ll take some pressure off the nerve.” He trades his thumbs for the tips of his fingers, walking over the knots with a methodical practicality that pulls at your chest.

You nod, knowing he’s right. Lo and behold, a few seconds later, the knot releases, sending a flood of warmth, followed by pins and needles down your arm. You flex and contract your hand in and out of a fist a couple of times, hoping to rid yourself of the sensation. 

“It’ll stop in a second.” He rubs his hands together, warming them up with the friction before passing over the back of your shoulder with a firm, steady pressure, all the way down your arm to your fingers. The heat of his hands really does help - your nerves calm almost immediately, and you can feel your pinkie for the first time in days. 

A little laugh leaves you. “I dunno why I keep going to PT when you’re right here.” You turn and offer him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Feeling better?”

No. 

“Much.” 

He offers you a small smile in return. “Good.” 

+++

You’re changing back into your work clothes with Emily and Jordan, pleased to find them full of laughter. 

“When you asked him if he practices his routine on a sex doll, I almost lost it.” Jordan looks over her shoulder at Emily as she clips her holster back onto her belt. 

“I did lose it, are you kidding?” You laugh. “I can’t believe I missed it!” 

Emily shakes her head, smiling. “You know, as much as I hate what that guy stands for, I still read ‘five ways to get noticed’ in Cosmo magazine.”

“Because it makes sense.” You look at Jordan, waiting for an explanation. She redeemed herself tonight, and you’re actually looking forward to hearing what she has to say. Though she doesn’t explain what she means, she does thank you both for vouching for her. 

“Absolutely.” Emily looks past Jordan, at you, and you nod in agreement. 

“Of course.” 

A knock sounds, and Aaron’s voice shoots around the corner. “I need you all out here, the unsub’s kidnapped another victim.” 

Shit. 

+++

You’re on Aaron’s six, waiting for the go. He calls the first team into position and holds up his hand. When he drops it, you fall into step, just off his right shoulder. Derek breaches first, tackling the unsub to the floor. 

Aaron kicks down the front door, and you breach from the other side of the house. There’s shouting everywhere, but Aaron’s presence centers you, giving you a mission and a focus. 

Keep him safe. 

He releases you with a wave, and you drop down next to Spencer on the floor. You cut the tape holding Austin’s hands together. She falls into Spencer, still terrified and sobbing. He looks at you and you nod, spotting her as he helps her to her feet. 

Tracking back to Aaron, you shadow Rossi as they finish clearing the rest of the house. You hover by the final door as Dave and Aaron reassure the unsub’s mother that she’ll be taken care of as they clear the room for hidden threats. 

In fact, there’s nothing except a sick woman and the machine keeping her alive.

“It’s a dialysis pump...It was issued ten months ago.” Dave looks back at you, and your lips press into a thin line. 

You look at Aaron. “Our secondary trigger.” 

+++

Jordan climbs the stairs to Aaron’s office, and you attempt to hide your interest as she knocks on the door and steps in. Of course, you can’t hear them, but you watch him call her back after she hands in her report. 

You recognize the look on his face - it's an expression you’re rewarded with when you’ve done something right. In fairness, it doesn't look much different from the one you get when you’ve done something wrong, but you’ve learned to pick up on the subtle differences.

Jordan leaves his office with a little smile. When she passes you, you offer her a, “Well done,” as you stand and climb the stairs yourself. 

With a knock on Aaron’s door, he beckons you in without looking. You stand a respectable distance away from his desk, waiting for him to finish whatever he’s working on. He knows it’s you, and has no issue keeping you waiting.

The composition of his desk has changed in the months since the divorce. Haley no longer smiles at him from the frame by his pen cup. That frame sits on the low shelf by his law volumes, the white veil over Haley’s face unable to mask her joy even from across the room. 

There are more pictures of Jack than before, both old and new. 

Eventually, he looks up, and you hand him your report. A smile plays at your lips, and another dances around the corner of his eyes. 

“That was kind of you, Hotch.” 

He shrugs. “You vouched for her work.” 

“Is that all it takes to win your approval, these days? My good word?” Your voice is laden with fond amusement. He rises to it, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he wasn’t smiling. When he answers, his tone is light, almost playful. 

“Yes.”

+++

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[amwritesitall]

The Sarahs as Songs from Folklore and Evermore

Masterlist

Link in the names are the Spotify playlists I have for each character. These playlists are a never ending work in progress. Some posts can be found on a few of them on the Masterlist link above.

The reasoning for these songs vary. Some are like I’m pitching you a thesis for an essay and others are just little blurbs. Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors! A lot of this was worked on after midnight, so there might be a few errors I missed.

Billie Dean Howard

“cowboy like me”

I've got some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me Never wanted love Just a fancy car Now I'm waiting by the phone Like I'm sitting in an airport bar You had some tricks up your sleeve Takes one to know one

You're a cowboy like me Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward Only if they pay for it

You gotta love Billie Dean. This song gives me Billie vibes in the way that the narrator never was really looking for love, they just kind of stumbled upon it. Billie Dean was never really looking since she was focused on her show and her career in general, wanting fame and fortune. Settling down for love wasn’t in the cards, but then she finds the perfect person and the person she ends up falling for is someone similar to her, never wanting to settle down. 

Long story short, two lady killers meet and fall for each other.

“august”

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

A lot of folklore gives me teen au vibes for a lot of these characters. This one makes me think of teen summer romance au with lady killer Billie Dean. For teen Billie, I just picture her having a whirlwind summer romance that doesn’t last long, but it leaves such an impact on her and the other person even after they’ve returned to someone else at the end of the summer.

Lana Winters

“betty”

Yeah, I showed up at your party Will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings? I'm only 17, I don't know anything But I know I miss you

I know this song isn’t gay, but I want it to be, so here we are. Pretty much my only reasoning for this one is teen au vibes.

“cardigan”

Sequin smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

Secret relationship with Lana and her giving her lover all the love she deserves. Lana Winters is such a loving person and from her trouble with her family and others in her life, she knows what it’s like to feel like “an old cardigan sweater under someone’s bed” and she doesn’t want her lover to ever feel like that.

Another thing about this is in the first three lines. Lana is a young woman working in a mainly male dominated field. All the men (most of them older as well) look down on her because she is a young woman assuming, as the lyrics suggests, that she knows nothing. I might be crazy, but I feel like these first few lines some up some of the Lana we know and see throughout season two and her multiple appearances in other seasons as well.

“dorothea”

Hey Dorothea Do you ever stop and think about me? When we were younger Down in the park Honey, making a lark of the misery You got shiny friends since you left town A tiny screen's the only place I see you now And I got nothing but well wishes for ya

Dear reader, I propose to you this, the narrator talking about our Lana Winters. Specifically, I’m referring to Lana towards the end of season two where she has gotten fame from her book and her newfound fame goes to her head a little bit. The spin is that along with this she’s got a lover back home that wishes her well, but misses her, yearns for her if you will. So, we’re going to pretend there’s an AU where Lana’s got a lover back home and watches this all occur.

Cordelia Goode

“my tears ricochet”

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears

CORDELIA HAS BEEN DONE DIRTY BY QUITE A FEW PEOPLE IN HER LIFE. Sis has been done dirty by Fiona, Hank, and problem a few other people we don’t even know about. 

This song makes me think of a few different things with Cordelia. The Fiona aspect is 1) Fiona’s anger with Cordelia for being the Supreme instead of being happy and proud of her daughter and 2) Fiona’s overall poor treatment of Cordelia.

You could also interpret this as Cordelia’s awful relationship with good ol toxic Hank. Cordelia didn’t deserve the awful treatment from Hank and Fiona. Cordelia is trying to deal with all of this and she loved these people, but they treated her so poorly and in the end it’s going to come back and bite them in the end.

“tolerate it”

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it If it's all in my head, tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine

This song HURTS me. You can interpret this song a few different ways, but the way I interpret it for Cordelia is to look at it as a mother/daughter relationship between her and Fiona.

As a child, Cordelia always wanted to impress her mother. Her mother was the Supreme after all, so she had a lot to live up to (makes me think of “Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”). She’s giving it her all like the lyrics “Use my best colors for your portrait / Lay the table with the fancy shit.” The first line from the excerpt above also points to Cordelia still seeking this approval even now that she’s an adult. She does all of this for her mother, but in return her mother just merely tolerates it. It never seems like enough to impress her even though Cordelia is a successful and overall incredible woman. She always feels like she’s not enough, merely getting in the way (”Always taking up too much space or time”).

“ivy”

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed He's in the room Your opal eyes are all I wish to see He wants what's only yours

AU AU AU AU AU

Picture it: a historical au with a forbidden love between Lady Cordelia Goode and a normal working class gal, however, Cordelia has been promised to marry another, say Hank. Secret relationship ensues.

I have so many thoughts on this au

Bette and Dot Tattler

“seven”

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

This song just captures the innocence that I think fits Bette and Dot really well. It’s hard to find songs to fit these two, but I really think this one has their vibes.

“willow”

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring And there was one prize I'd cheat to win The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

Like “seven,” this song captures the innocent, sweet vibes that these two have. This one adds to the hopeless romantic aspect that both Bette and Dot have as well.

Sally McKenna

“hoax”

This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My win-less fight This has frozen my ground

Stood on the cliffside Screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would do 

Sally is a sad bitch. Poor girl has been heart broken and I elaborate on this next part more later. With her love, Sally doesn’t want to move on from that person since she believed they were the love of her life, however, now they’ve betrayed her and are gone and she’s alone once again.

“right where you left me”

Everybody moved on, I I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Right where you left me You left me no Oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever You left me

AHHHH THIS IS A SALLY SONG! I’ve had this post in my drafts since evermore came out and I was worried I wouldn’t have much for Sally, but then this bonus track came out and I couldn’t not think of Sally when I listened to it.

This is another one of those songs that you can interpret literally or figuratively. In Sally’s case you could definitely interpret this as her being trapped as a literal ghost in the Cortez after her lover leaves her but you can also look at it in terms of Sally’s personality. In love, Sally seems like the person to hold onto someone long after they are gone and moved on. She loves hard, so it is extremely hard for her to move on. I think that if she found the person she believed was the right person and they ended up leaving her, she wouldn’t move on from them at all. She’d be holding on, waiting for them to come back even if they never do.

Audrey Tindall

“the 1″

But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would've been you In my defense, I have none For never leaving well enough alone But it would've been fun If you would've been the one

Audrey looking back on a love from another time. Basically I want all of the AUs. I wish I had more to say, but vibes.

“mirrorball”

And they called off the circus Burned the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

This song makes me think of Audrey having to be different versions of herself for everyone through her career path and being a celebrity because she wants so desperately for people to love her and everything she does. She loves the spotlight with “I’m still on that trapeze / I’m still trying everything / To keep you looking at me,” and she’s such a people pleaser that she’ll do anything to get people to continue to like her even if sometimes there’s nothing you can do (”And they called off the circus / Burned the disco down”). I come to this conclusion through Audrey’s insecurities about her age that we see in the second half of season six with her relationship with Rory. 

“champagne problems”

Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems

I’m not gonna lie, I don’t have a huge interpretation for this one. This kinda just makes me think of angsty au with Audrey.

“’tis the damn season”

So we could call it even You could call me babe for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down I'm stayin' at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you in my hometown

Out of everyone, Audrey is the person I picture going back to the ex for the holidays. She wants get cuffed for the holiday season even if it’s only for a little while.

“invisible string”

Green was the color of the grass Where I used to read at Centennial Park I used to think I would meet somebody there...

Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Audrey is definitely the type of person to believe in fate. To her everything happens for a reason and one day she’s going to find her soulmate. Overall, big Audrey Tindall vibes.

Ally Mayfair-Richards

“mad woman”

Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy What about that? And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry

And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around And there's nothing like a mad woman

You cannot tell me that Ally did not ghost write this like damn this song screams Ally. This song is literally all about how society has a habit of gaslighting women and that’s exactly what happened to Ally for most of season seven. The entire season focused on Kai’s cult working to convince Ally that she’s going insane and when people wouldn’t believe the very real terror’s she was suffering from, it pushed her closer and closer to madness until she nearly breaks from it all.

“no body, no crime” feat. HAIM

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen And I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me ("She was with me dude") Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

They think she did it but they just can't prove it They think she did it but they just can't prove it She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it No, no body, no crime I wasn't letting up until the day he died

We love a homicidal queen. Ally isn’t in SCUM for nothing. Also I’m pretty sure this is my favorite song from evermore because I’m in love with the vibes.

“marjorie”

Never be so polite, you forget your power Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

This bit of the song just makes me think of how Ally holds herself at the end of the season. It’s a simple, but still expresses the perfect message.

“closure”

It's been a long time And seeing the shape of your name Still spells out pain It wasn't right The way it all went down Looks like you know that now

Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better

ALLY DOESN’T NEED YOUR APOLOGY! SHE’S A BAD BITCH

Wilhemina Venable

“exile” feat. Bon Iver

All this time We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out  You never gave a warning sign 

All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around  'Cause you never gave a warning sign

For these lyrics I’m picturing Mina’s lover saying/thinking them. Mina isn’t used to love, so when she finally falls for someone and they reciprocate those feelings she gets scared. She shuts them out without any warning sign because she’s not sure how to handle all these intense feelings for this person.

“illicit affairs”

Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head Keep your eyes down Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

The connotation of these lyrics is everything in my interpretation of it with Wilhemina. The story line is similar to the song “ivy,” but the connotation of the affairs taking place is completely different. “ivy” is all about a forbidden but loving relationship, while “illicit affairs” has a more negative connotation to where the affair is tearing the person apart. This song makes me think of a secret relationship with Wilhemina where her lover wants something more than just a secret affair, but Wilhemina isn’t willing to open herself up enough for that. This affair turns into something that isn’t working well for the lover, but they want Wilhemina so much that they put up with whatever they can get.

Mildred Ratched

“happiness”

Honey, when I'm above the trees I see it for what it is But now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness You haven't met the new me yet And I think she'll give you that

I don’t have much in the interpretation department for this one, but this song does make me think of Mildred’s personality. This song has the vulnerability and a bit of bitterness that I feel like Mildred would have in a situation like this. I’m not exactly sure how to describe it but this makes me think of her outlook on love and heartbreak.

“evermore” feat. Bon Iver

I rewind the tape but all it does is pause On the very moment all was lost Sending signals To be double crossed

And I was catching my breath Barefoot in the wildest winter Catching my death And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar That this pain would be for Evermore

This girl has been “double crossed.” My woman Mildred has been done dirty. This makes me think of angsty Mildred getting betrayed by someone who she trusted in love. And I don’t it’s sad and I thought of some sad vibes with bb millie.

“epiphany”

With you, I serve With you, I fall down, down Watch you breathe in Watch you breathing out, out

Something med school did not cover Someone's daughter, someone's mother Holds your hand through plastic now "Doc, I think she's crashing out" And some things you just can't speak about

Nurse Mildred Ratched. That is all folks.

“gold rush”

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you

At dinner parties I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town We wandered 'round had never Seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause you know it could never be

Call me crazy BUT this song makes me think of Mildred. She’s the type of person that isn’t really comfortable with love. She doesn’t like to be vulnerable and this pushes her to be uncomfortable with little things like someone making her blush. Love is new to her.

She is also envious of the effect this person has on her and, in turn, the effect that person has on everyone else because they are so stunning. When they do get together it is the type of love that poetry is written about. Witty banter and fiery gazes but also the gentle caress of a hand while walking along the shore. 

This love is perfect in every way, but of course there must also be a level of angst to nearly all stories and the angst with this one is the fact that the time period Mildred is around in does not allow her to love her lover openly and freely. Overtime this might cause a strain on the relationship with the line “And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea / ‘Cause you know it could never be.” Her and her lover both know that society would condemn them for who they are.

Harriet Hayes

“peace”

'Cause there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Harriet is a big celebrity. She has paparazzi hounding her all the time and once she’s in a relationship they start hounding that person too. It’s a lot for a person and a relationship. Harriet can change that aspect of their relationship (”But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me”), but she can provide her lover with as much love she can give. She will always try her best for the person she truly, truly loves her. There may be some bumps along the way (like the next song) but she will do her best and hopefully that’s enough for her lover because she can’t ever completely give them peace.

“this is me trying”

I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad

The last line gives me hella Harriet vibes because I feel like when she’s angry she’s kind of blinded by it. She’s the type of person that says some really hurtful things that she doesn’t mean when she’s angry. 

Looking deeper, I get Harriet vibes from the beginning in the sense that Harriet is just trying to do the best that she can in a relationship, but it’s just not really working out. She has her career the “shiniest wheel,” however, now that’s slowing down and she’s lost on what to do with her relationships. She wants everything to work out like how she did so well so quick with her career, but everything isn’t working out like that.

[creacherkeeper]

How is the cowboi doing? :) I’d love to hear about some of their recent adventures.

OH WELL IT'S ME + ALSO MY DICE HATE(/love) ME SO YOU KNOW THEYRE GETTING WHUMPED CONSTANTLY LMAO

there have certainly been some Events Unfolding so those are under the cut, casey since youre in our campaign now NO PEEKING

fair warning this is .... long ..... you have asked me to talk about my dnd character and you simply CANNOT stop the floodwaters now. enter at your own risk

okay so basically the first arc of the campaign kind of kicked off with them getting a vision from their goddess (the grain goddess/goddess of agriculture) saying that she was trapped in a fey gate and that they needed to come rescue her

so erley immediately Rallied The Posse and set off to do that. they NUMEROUS times tried to pray to her, commune with her, basically just get ANY sort of communication or guidance from her, but the dice like to tell their story so i literally never got above an 11 (paladin with only +2 to religion my beloved) and they never heard from her, which was making them. pretty nervous. when it seemed like everyone else was able to talk to their gods just fine

well we eventually figured out that there was a huge gathering of fey in the woods (me: this might be too big for us to fight. what if its like 30 fey? / my dm, glancing at his notes where he has 2000 fey written down: (: ) and basically the fey like. had captured and were trying to kill what was left of the pantheon so they could bring back gaia as the One True God

we found all this out because it turned out several members of the party had been lying about how much they knew of the fey and had personal connections to the fey they'd kept hidden. and erley, who is ALSO HIDING A LOT from the party like. immediately went on the offense and was just generally very unhappy about this

there had been this fey merchant who kept popping up wherever we were trying to sell us magic weapons that seemed tied to us specifically. erley was always VERY suspicious of her and did everything in their power to stop the others from buying her weapons (which we literally had to buy with -5 to a skill point, not money, v sus) to mixed results. but basically when we got to the fey gathering (we called it gaiapalooza) erley rolled a 1 on their survival check to get through the magic field and like. got teleported to her. and they really wanted information from her so they basically were like LEORA I DONT KNOW WHO TO TRUST I THINK MY PARTY HAS BEEN LYING TO ME, CAN YOU TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT THEM CAN YOU SEE US WHEN YOURE NOT THERE? and basically pretended to need a therapy session in order to milk her for information lmao. she also seemed like. REALLY interested in erley and i was also very nervous about that

and i was RIGHT to be suspicious of her because we found out she WAS ACTUALLY THE BIG BAD and we had to fight her in the arc finale. and several of our party members had rl stuff and were not there, and in game our druid was away casting an 8 hour long spell to try and stop the palooza ceremony, so our party was SUPER nerfed and also as soon as erley realized it WAS actually leora who was behind all of it and she WAS trying to hurt them with those weapons (the weapons were tethers to the gods to be able to kill them basically), they got .... a little angry

and my party found out after irl a year of playing these characters that erley's first level is barbarian :))

so erley raged and did frankly a staggering amount of damage in this fight, and also only stayed up because of rage because they took a LOT of hits. but also. they dont rage FOR A REASON so it sort of took them over and when leora dropped, one of the other pcs ran over to stabilize her as she was making death saves and erley :) maybe :) drove a spear through her heart and killed her :)

and her body immediately just like. overgrew with plants and vines and flowers and basically wrapped the spear in a bed of plants and it was very cinematic and cool

(we have since found out that leora was like. actually an aspect of gaia so. that is. interesting)

of course then erley popped out of rage and was like FUCK this is why i dont do this, i went too far, it always goes too far, THIS is why im ashamed of this, and just got very emo boi about it. so they used their last spell slot to cast restoration on the space they had fought in and reached out to their goddess, having just saved her and the rest of the pantheon like she had asked them to

and i rolled a nat 1!!!

(the dm was like "you have committed this violent act, you feel so low and so bad and in need of guidance, and reach out to your goddess. and the absolute lack of a response just makes you feel empty inside" and i was like :) oh :) okay cool :) you love to see that with your paladins huh)

at this point the druid came back in and, instead of erley like. examining any of their own shit immediately lashed out at her and was like "why did you lie to me about the fey, why did you lie about why you were here, why ARE you here because i realize now it wasnt to help me"

and at that point ONE OF THE FEY QUEENS WALKED IN and the druid was like "... mother ..." and we were all :O

so it turns out the fey queen is her birth mom but had like? kidnapped one of the children of her firbolg tribe and was holding her hostage and the druid was on a quest to find her and bring her back

so erley :) felt :) even more bad about that :) and very shamedly pledged their help to her, and basically was like "as long as youre on this noble quest i will follow you if you'll have me"

so we're on our second arc now, which is traveling across the country to go meet the fey queen and get this kid back. as we were traveling my dm had me roll religion and a luck check and i got a 21 ON RELIGION FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER and a 6 luck. and he was like "you dont usually dream, but you have a nightmare. you know this nightmare was given to you, it was divinely inspired, but you dont know who sent it" and it was just erley killing leora over and over and over again. so they were like. well fuck

(my dm also messaged me privately and we talked and he was like. yeah you can get rid of your oath of devotion and change it to oath of the ancients, i am not telling you or erley why the subclass has changed and you also might get nerfed later. also level up barbarian for the next fight)

so erley was. feeling PRETTY DANG BAD and very guilty and stressed and all that. they did also realize their barbarian side was getting stronger which, considering their backstory is all tragic barbarian shit they were NOT happy about. i was fully prepared to have them be more ostracized from the party and go into full angst mode, but then the druid actually like. pulled them aside and explained why she had hidden information from them, and had a very sweet conversation with them and held their hand and it was VERY touching (she also had the baller line "you think your goddess can hear you and she's not answering. but maybe you're talking in a whisper and she needs to hear you scream")

we had another fight (we're level 7 and my dm told us after it was a cr 32 fight like. dude??? what the fuck?????) and once again erley didnt go down only because of rage

THEY ALSO UNINTENTIONALLY CAST MISTY STEP (which is an ancients spell they didnt have before) and were like WELL NO TIME TO UNPACK WHAT THAT WAS RIGHT NOW, HAVE TO NOT DIE

after the battle was over i asked to roll a check to figure out why i had access to that spell and got :) yeah you guessed it :) another nat 1 :) so erley has literally no idea how they cast that or what it could mean. we just had a new pc introduced who is a sorcerer so erley is definitely going to talk to her and see if she knows anything. because they are FULLY IN THE DARK about their subclass change or what that means in game

we're also (because of the fucking cr 32 fight) going to be leveling up again soon, and babey you KNOW im leveling barbarian. after rage kept me up and then rolling another nat 1 religion check, and also me the player not knowing whats up with their goddess/magic, i simply cant level paladin rn. so im BETWEEN A FEW SUBCLASS OPTIONS and ive been thinking them over but i think it really depends how the next few games go

my FULL ANGST option was to make them level into zealot barbarian like their awful dad, but i thought that made the least sense in universe rn

secondary angst option is to level into berserker, which i think fits pretty closely with how i've been roleplaying the rage so far. trading off an extra attack for a level of exhaustion fits pretty closely. also whump central

the NICE option is to have them be a totem warrior barbarian, and have both their paladin steed and their totem be a bull :) (they are a cowboi after all) i think thats the closest i can marry their two classes and potentially have some healthy growth for them, let them see that the rage doesnt HAVE to be a bad thing, that being a barbarian isnt something they HAVE to be ashamed of. reskinning the bear totem would give them resistance to all damage but psychic while raging, and im planning on taking the tough feat, so theyd pretty much be ... an unstoppable tank. plus i can still divine smite while in rage so theyd be VERY powerful

and now youre all caught up on my very special boi :))))) bet you didnt expect quite that much of an infodump but. listen. listen im simply obsessed with dnd i cannot help it. any chance to talk about my characters i WILL TAKE IN A HEARTBEAT (thank u for prompting my ramble lmao)

[spookyfbi]

Fic - The First Boy Who Taught Me

So originally I thought that Dave was living with his Uncle because his parents were dead. Then I was talking to someone and they suggested that Dave was sent away to live in Dallas with his uncle because he got caught kissing a boy. Then I got obsessed with this idea and a story began to write itself in my head... I’m gonna sign up to AO3 eventually but inthe meantime, here it is.

Also, this is mostly Dave/OMC but I’m tagging it klave because, well, all paths lead to Klave, right?

------

Billy Goldstein was a year older than Dave so they weren’t in any of the same classes, but their parents were good friends and whenever they would visit and talk about whatever boring things grown ups talked about, Dave and Billy would take their bikes and ride down to the park and climb the tallest tree. When they were younger they’d make believe they were pirates or cowboys or astronauts, but now Dave was 15 and Billy 16, so instead they talked about school and their families and God and the future and outer space and really, anything that was on their minds to talk about.

“Do you ever think about… being bad?” Billy asked one day.

Dave furrowed his brow. “You mean like Danny?” Danny was the school bully in Dave’s grade, but he was big and tough enough to pick on some of the kids in Billy’s grade as well. Dave hadn’t had too many run-ins with him, but he didn’t like the way Danny treated the weaker kids - it wasn’t right, they didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Dave often wished he could put Danny in his place, but he was afraid he’d make himself a target. He certainly didn’t want to be anything like Danny, and he wouldn’t have thought that Billy would either.

Billy shook his head. “Nah, that’s not what I mean, Danny’s an asshole. Wouldn’t mind sockin’ him though, you think that’d be bad?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. I think some of the kids would think you were a hero. Just like our Dads in the war, fighting the Nazis.”

“Mmm” Billy said. He still seemed a little unsure so Dave gave his foot a couple of gentle kicks. Billy looked at him and smiled. Then he looked down at their feet. He moved himself closer to Dave without making eye contact. They sat so close now on the tree branch that their legs were almost touching, but not quite. It wasn’t uncomfortable, they’d sat this close or even closer plenty of other times, but Billy looked nervous this time. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. Dave just waited, enjoying the silence and the closeness and the warm sun and the cool breeze and the sound of children’s laughter below them. He didn’t imagine anything that Billy could say would bother him much. Finally, Billy spoke. “Sometimes I think about kissing a boy.”

Dave looked at Billy. It didn’t feel as shocking or scandalous as perhaps it should have. They were up in their tree where they talked about everything, where they’d told things to each other they hadn’t told anyone else. This just felt like another one of those things.

But Billy was still nervous, and he didn’t register Dave’s openness. “I know you do too,” he added quickly, “don’t deny it.” It was said like an accusation, like a scared animal backed into a corner and lashing out. “I’ve seen it when we look at each other sometimes. You want to just as much as I do. You’re the same as me. If God hates me then he hates you too.”

Dave broke eye contact then with a scoff and looked out at the view. He couldn’t deny it, what Billy was saying. He didn’t want to either. But he didn’t like what Billy was saying about it. He didn’t want to be bad and he certainly didn’t want God to hate him, or Billy.

Dave could still feel Billy’s eyes on him. “Dave, please…” Billy said with a tremble in his voice. “Please tell me I’m not alone. You and me are in this together, right?”

Dave looked back at Billy, and as soon as he did, Billy’s lips were on his. Dave didn’t know what to do. He’d never kissed anyone before. He didn’t know if he should open his mouth, or what he should do with his hands. It felt strange, but nice, so Dave didn’t do anything.

Billy smiled when he pulled away. “I knew it! I knew you were like me. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

Dave smiled and looked back down at his feet. He could feel his face flushing. Billy gave his shoulder a reassuring nudge. They were in this together, just like always.

———

That night after dinner Dave snuck out went to Billy’s house. They’d sneaked out after dinner before, to go for evening bike rides, see the stars, sit on the swings late at night when the kids who would normally use them were asleep in their beds, so it didn’t feel much different to Dave when he did it tonight. Dave wasn’t sure what to expect after that kiss in the park. They hadn’t talked about it much. Billy had changed the subject and everything had gone back to the way it always was. Dave began to wonder if he’d imagined the whole thing. He climbed the tree outside Billy’s window and sat on one of the branches, then he tapped his fingers on the glass. Billy gave a half smile when he opened his window and he kissed Dave again. Dave was surprised, but pleasantly so. He leaned into Billy this time and puckered his lips. He felt Billy put his arms around him and pull him even further forward. Dave followed until he couldn’t lean any further forward without falling. Billy broke the kiss. “Well, aren’t you gonna come in?”

Dave hadn’t been planning on it. Usually when he visited Billy late like this Billy wanted to get out of the house. But Dave didn’t mind staying in Billy’s room, especially if he was going to keep kissing him. So Dave climbed through the window, and before he could get his balance Billy’s lips were on his again, so Dave used Billy to steady himself. Billy pulled him closer and it was so, so nice. Then Billy took a step back, still holding Dave close, so Dave followed. They took a few more steps together like this until suddenly they stumbled into Billy’s bed. Dave broke the kiss to look at Billy. His smile told Dave that he’d done this on purpose. Dave was lying on top of Billy, with Billy’s legs wrapped around his hips. Dave wasted no time kissing him again. This time he tried opening his mouth a bit. He brushed his tongue along Billy’s lower lip and then went back to kissing like before. Billy opened his mouth then and it wasn’t long before their tongues were exploring each other’s mouths. It felt so good, really good, and soon Dave felt a stirring between his legs. He was pressed up against Billy and he could feel that Billy was having the same reaction. Dave felt like his body was starting to take over and started to grind himself against Billy without really meaning to. He pulled back slightly to look at Billy, and Billy’s smile was all the encouragement he needed to keep going. It was so good, oh god. Dave had done this before by himself, rubbing against his bed, but this was different - better! Billy’s kisses moved to Dave’s cheek and along his jaw and towards his ear as Dave continued to grind himself against Billy.

“My Dad would be so pissed if he knew what we were doing,” Billy whispered, and that made Dave stop. He climbed off Billy and sat opposite him on his bed, looking at him with a frown. Billy seemed surprised that Dave had stopped so abruptly. Dave had the same feeling he’d had in the park that day when Billy had talked about God hating them. Dave felt good when he was kissing Billy, and he didn’t like that Billy thought they were doing something wrong. He didn’t feel like kissing Billy any more right now. Dave got up and went back to the window to leave. “Dave, wait!” Billy got up and met Dave at the window. There was a slight panic in his voice. “I’m sorry.” he said, and Dave wasn’t sure if he was apologising for what he’d said or what they were doing.

Dave softened his expression. He could see that Billy was scared. Dave didn’t know if what they were doing was bad or if God hated them or what their parents would think. But it wasn’t as though they were hurting anybody, and they both enjoyed what they were doing. And Dave decided he could live with that, the rest was for the rabbis to debate about. He put his hand on Billy’s cheek in a gesture he hoped was reassuring, and gave Billy another kiss, less intense than before. 

Dave felt Billy relax into him, and when the kiss broke, he didn’t pull away, letting his face linger close to Billy’s. “So then we’re still in this together?” Billy whispered.

Dave pulled back just enough to look into Billy’s eyes. “Always,” he said with a warm smile.

———

Billy’s parents were hosting a barbecue for his younger sister’s birthday and all the neighbours were there, including Dave and his family. Mr Goldstein asked Billy to get some more meat from the fridge in the garage, and Dave went with him. When they saw that the garage was empty, Billy shot Dave a sly smile. Dave returned the smile and took Billy’s hand, running his thumb along the back, threading his fingers through Billy’s. He brought Billy’s hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss into the back. Billy’s eyes lit up with desire and he closed the distance between them and kissed Dave passionately, pushing his tongue through Dave’s lips. Dave parted them eagerly and let Billy push him back until they were leaning against the fridge, the meat quickly forgotten.

The boys didn’t realise how long they’d been when Mr Goldstein burst angrily through the garage door. He’d been ready to yell at Billy for taking so long with the meat, but what he saw inspired a very different sort of rage.

Dave felt Billy being pulled away from him. Mr Goldstein shoved Billy to the floor. He was yelling something, first at Billy, then at Dave, then at Billy again. Dave couldn’t make out the words over the blood rushing in his ears. He was frozen in place with fear and so was Billy. Mr Goldstein was standing over Billy, his arms flailing as he yelled, and Billy’s expression wavered between anger and fear. Dave wanted to say something, do something, but the words wouldn’t form in his mouth and his body refused to move. It was just like with Danny, Dave wanted to stand up to the bully but he was too afraid.

Mr Goldstein left with a final look of disgust directed at Dave, and Dave thought he heard something about telling his parents. He was too shocked to think about what that might mean. He shook himself out of it and held out a hand to help Billy up.

“Shit!” Billy said. “Oh shit, he’s gonna kill me. What are we gonna do?”

Dave just shook his head.

“He’s gonna tell your parents, y’know. You’re dead too. We’re both dead.” Billy sank back down to the ground and ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit, this was so stupid!” Dave sat down next to Billy and Billy grabbed his arms. “Dave, what are we gonna do?”

Dave shook his head again. He had no answers for Billy.

———

Dave couldn’t help the way his hands shook when his parents called him into the kitchen. They looked a lot calmer than Mr Goldstein had earlier that day. Mom looked like she’d been crying, she was still holding a handkerchief in her hands. Dad looked stern and disappointed.

“Son…” Dad began, and then he faltered and looked to Mom.

“Dave…” She said. Then she began crying, and brought the handkerchief to her eyes.

Dave swallowed and waited. He held his hands in front of him to try to stop them from trembling.

“Son, you’re going to go live with your Uncle Brian in Dallas for a while. This business with Billy…”

“You just put it out of your mind, okay, Dave?” Mom said. “You’re a good boy. You’re not gonna do anything like this ever again, are you Honey?”

Dave opened his mouth to speak but Dad interrupted him. “That’s right, Sport. You’ll just get a fresh start in Dallas, you focus on your studies and when the time is right you’ll find yourself a lovely young lady to marry, and then you can come back home.”

Dave wanted to ask if he could still come home even if he didn’t find a young lady, but he was afraid of the answer. His parents weren’t yelling and they weren’t shoving him to the ground like Mr Goldstein, but Dave thought he’d prefer it if they were. Sending him away? For how long? Would he ever see his parents again? Would he ever see Billy again?

“You go to your room now and get some sleep.” Mom said. “We’ll talk to the school tomorrow and you can stay home and start packing.”

Dave felt a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t dare speak for fear of crying. He did as he was told and went up to his room. Then he opened his window and climbed out, as he had dozens of times before. He had to see Billy.

———

Dave sat on the branch and tapped on Billy’s window again. When Billy opened it, Dave saw the cut on his lip and the shiner beginning to form on his cheek. Billy didn’t kiss him this time.

“You can’t be here, Dave” Billy said quietly.

“My parents are sending me away to Dallas.” Dave told him.

“You should go.” Billy said, and Dave wasn’t sure if he meant go back home or go to Dallas.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard you. You’re going to Dallas. Maybe that’s for the best.”

“Billy…” Billy wasn’t looking at Dave, so Dave reached his hands out to touch Billy’s face, and he flinched away.

“You’re too much of a temptation for me. If you weren’t around, then I wouldn’t…” Billy swallowed. “I wouldn’t be like this anymore.”

Dave felt the lump forming in his throat again. Everything was changing for the worst and there was nothing he could do. He barely knew his uncle and he didn’t know anyone else in Dallas. His parents wanted to send him away, and now so did Billy. Wasn’t there anyone who wanted him, just one person in the whole wide world who cared about him? It wouldn’t be so bad if he had just one person, just one. “What about us being in this together?” He whispered hoarsely.

“If we’re in this together then where the hell’s your split lip, huh? Where’s your black eye?”

“Then let’s get out of here, together. You and me. Away from your Dad, away from my parents. We’ll take care of each other. We’ll be in it together, just like you said.”

“And do what? What are we gonna do for money? Neither of us have jobs.”

“I don’t know… we’ll figure something out.”

“Grow up, Dave. And go home.” Billy put his hands on the window and began to close it. “Go to Dallas. Or run away by yourself if you want. I can’t see you anymore.” And with that Billy slammed the window in Dave’s face and closed the curtains.

Dave didn’t try to stop the tears when they came. He lingered for a while, resting his head against the window. There was nothing for him at home. There was nothing for him here either. And there was nothing for him in Dallas.

Somehow, eventually, Dave made his way back home. He couldn’t bring himself to think about where he was going, he just let his body carry him. He managed to sleepwalk through many more years like this, not allowing himself to think about the rejection he’d faced from Billy, from his own family. Not allowing himself to think about how desperately he missed a person who didn’t yet exist. A person who might care about him unconditionally, for exactly who he was. A person he could love just as fiercely.

Until one day, there was a flash of blue light…

[imaginedxlan]

Alpha Pt. 3 (Grayson Dolan)

a/n: I think its actually been two years since I wrote the first two parts of alpha but idc I’m actually in college now i feel like I have actual insight on how Mr. Alpha of ATO would act around y/n. 

After their date, or forced casual hangout according to y/n, Grayson doesn’t necessarily keep his end of the deal. 

y/r/n = your roommate’s name

warning(s): sexual allusions, cussing, drinking

(part one/part two)

_______________________________

When you return home from your, well you’re not actually sure what to call it, with Grayson, your roommate immediately sits up to see your face, looking for any indication of how your night went. She throws her chem textbook to the side and give you a look as to say well?

You close the door behind you before putting your face in your hands and taking a seat at your desk. You keep shaking your head, there is not a chance in hell you have feelings for this boy. The boy who preyed on a freshman at her very first college party. The boy who stalked you around all of your classes, got your phone number and somehow found out all about your life in the span of a week. You keep reminding yourself of the weird and uncomfortable things he’s done to distract you from the way he planned out an entire evening for the two of you, or that he actually helped you find your sister and her friends or how good he looked when the setting sun hit his tan skin in his topless Jeep only hours ago. Jesus, y/n, snap out of it. 

“Come on, spill!” Your roommate begs, she had to deal with your ranting about not wanting to go all afternoon, she deserves to at least know how it went. “What did you do? What was he like? How’d he dress? Oh my god did you hook up?”

“Ew, y/r/n, no!” You gasp at her last question. How could she expect you to hookup with someone you hate? “It was fine. We ate dinner in some park then he took me to that neon sign museum. Nothing fancy, he had a shirt on which was a first. He acted nice but I don’t buy it for a second.”

“Neither,” She replies, knowing the boy only from how you’ve described him. “He’s probably just trying to get in your pants so he can bug your sister about it.”

She’s right. You can’t fall into his trap, he has ulterior motive. They always do. You just have to go on and find some boy on your floor to kiss and get him out of your head for good. Every part of you wishes your sister hadn’t broken up with her boyfriend, he would’ve given Grayson a piece of his mind if he knew that he was bothering you. Unfortunately for you and her ex, y/s/n does not like to be tied down and she needed to “have her fun” for her last first semester. You and y/r/n talk for a little while longer, about classes and whatnot, but mostly end up talking about Grayson again. 

“We should go to bed.” You finally say, yawning and looking down at your phone screen that read 12:47 am. Your roommate huffs, obviously wanting to hear more about your night with the infamous Alpha Dog of ATO. “Recruitment starts tomorrow, we have to meet our groups at eight in the morning, remember?”

“I know, I know,” She replies, slipping out of her bed so she can gather her things to get ready for bed. You grab you toiletries bag as well and head toward the bathroom with her. “We’re talking about this tomorrow, don’t think I’ve let up.”

Recruitment happens over the span of four days, this weekend and next. It’s a dry rush period so no potential new members can be seen on frat property, giving you a good enough reason to avoid Grayson. Going into recruitment you’re already around ninety-two percent sure you’ll end up in Delta Gamma, just like your sister and your mom. The next few days of recruitment go well, you meet new friends from your rush group who help through the stressful process. Throughout the week you get sporadic texts from none other than Grayson Dolan wishing you luck with those days rounds, giving you unsolicited pointers of where to pref, and telling you that he saw you walking on greek row. You don’t respond to any, hoping he gives up on trying to woo you. So much for leaving you alone after one date. You pref Delta Gamma and Kappa Alpha Theta, but end up ranking DG first, not wanting to end your legacy but also because you felt you fit in most there. It was no surprise when you got a bid. Your sister is over the moon, shrieking over how her biological sister is now her deegster. You still have to get used to the lingo.

You come to find during bid day, which is Space Cowboy themed of course, that your new pledge class will be going out for bid-night with your bid day bigs. You don’t understand half of the things they’re saying to you, the language of sorority girls still lost on you. You’re added to a GroupMe with the new pledges of Alpha Tau Omega, just when you thought you could escape that fraternity as a whole, your bid night is with them. You almost immediately get a text from Grayson.

following in sissy’s steps? see you tonight miss delta gamma, anchor down ;)

What is it with him and these nicknames? You show your sister and she fake gags, saying she can’t believe he’s still texting you after all this time. She still has no idea about last weekend, you intend to keep it that way. When you get back to your dorm, you and your roommate talk all about bid day, she ended up going Kappa. Her bid night was with Phi Gamma Delta, or Fiji. If only you could have been so lucky. She can’t help but snort at the fact that you’re going to ATO tonight, she says it’s the universal pulling you and Dolan together. 

Your sister won’t being coming out with you tonight, having a lab tomorrow morning that she simply cannot miss. You’re partly grateful for it, now Grayson can’t let it slip to her that you two went out together. You end up getting ready in the room of a girl of your floor who you met today at bid day, wanting to base your outfit on someone else’s to blend in as much as possible. With the massive group of girls coming into his house, surely he won’t be able to find you. You meet up with your bid day big along with the girl on your floor’s and you all walk toward the ATO house together. You’re nervous, extremely nervous, but you don’t show it. As you near the house, you’re met with the mix of conflicting basses coming from any frat basement on the block. There are a few girls waiting outside the familiar house, and thats when you see it.

Grayson Dolan at the door, personally greeting every single one of your new sisters, his eyes scanning over every single one of the freshman walking into the door, earning him plenty of groans from the older girls. You don’t mean to say anything out loud, but you let an oh god slip. Your bid day big turns to you with a confused look.

“My sisters warned me about him,” You tell her, which is half of the truth. “Real scumbag I’ve heard.”

She just laughs, not even needing to agree with you for you to know she feels the same way about him. The closer you get to the front door, the more your stomach aches. If only you could be in your dorm watching Barbie Mermaidia with your roommate like last night. You try your best to hide within the group you came with, but it’s no use, he has his single file, one over strategy down to a science. 

“Hello you.” He greets you with a shit-eating grin. You hope the girls with you don’t catch him singling you out. “I’ll see you inside.”

“Fuck off Dolan,” Your bid day big calls over to him. “She’s not one of your play things.”

She pulls you inside before Grayson can say anything else. Luckily he doesn’t follow the two of you either. She gets you a drink and you socialize with the girls and some of the guys. You’re more focused on making girl friends tonight, as much as you’ve loathed your time at ATO, finding a group of girls to wander around greek row on a Saturday night is and essential part to your freshman year plan. You don’t even realize how drunk you’re getting, you follow your sister’s order to never take a cup from a brother, only ever allowing something you or one of your sisters have mixed to travel down your throat. You recall the words of your sisters earlier in the night, ‘bid night means black out ladies.’ You certainly don’t want to black out, but getting a little tipsy won’t hurt anyone. Toward the middle of the night you’re all dancing, body to body in their packed and sweaty basement. You have to admit, you’re actually kind of having fun. When you feel a pair of hands dig into your hips you don’t even flinch, simply moving your hips along to whatever shitty remix is coming from the massive speakers. You swing yourself around to face the boy and wrap your arms around his neck while his stay on your hips. You don’t recognize him, but from what you can see under the dim colored lights he’s cute. Mostly everyone in ATO is. He gives you a grin, letting one of his hands travel closer toward your ass, you don’t mind it, at least it’s not Grayson.

Grayson. Where is that boy? He said he’d meet you inside and it’s been at least an hour and a half. You don’t know why your mind is suddenly wandering off to Grayson. How he must look right now, definitely shirtless with some stupid phrase painted across his chest. How the sweat from the sheer amount of bodies in the house is probably making his tan skin glisten under the LED lights. How his hands are probably wrapped around a red solo cup so perfectly. You don’t even realize you’re biting your lip until your lips are connected with the boy you’re dancing with. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back, suddenly feeling all hot and bothered after picturing Grayson, wherever he is in this house. Snap out of it. Finding Grayson even remotely attractive would go against everything you stand for, your sister would probably smack your head to make sure there is still a brain in there. 

You keep drinking, everything practically going down like water at this point. Your speech is slurring and the room spins around you. You leave the boy you’re dancing with for another drink, finding the stairs to the main floor and gripping onto the handle for dear life. You stumble towards where some boy is pouring a mystery liquid into a cup and stop in front of it. Your new drink is swiftly taken from you and placed back on the table and you’re pulled from the crowd of people.

“How much have you had to drink.” It’s Grayson. He looks so good, you think. He’s shouting over the music for you to answer him. “I’m serious y/n, I need a number.”

You try and do the mental math but the only clear thought in your brain at the moment is how good he looks with his shirt off. You start to count on your fingers but lose track at five so you just shrug. He rolls his eyes, knowing that if anything were to happen to you your sister would beat his ass like it was somehow his fault.

“Why do you care, dad.” You mock him as he tries to think about what he should do with you. “I have to drink this much, I’m in a sos-sorotity you know?”

He can’t help but laugh at the way you’re butchering the words coming out of your mouth, the slurring evident on your tongue. “Okay, miss sorotity, follow me.” He grasps your hand, interlocking your fingers and begins to pull you up another flight of stairs that you’ve never been up. This house is massive. He pulls you into a room and locks the door behind him. Even with the room spinning you can make out a few features. A bed with a white comforter that lies low to the ground, a big frame holding what looks like a yearbook page of girls, and a lava lamp. 

“Is this your room?” You ask, leaning up against the wall for some stability. He just nods, fiddling with something in his drawers. “I’m not having, s-sex with you Grayson. You can’t make me.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you, sweetheart.” He mumbles back, pulling an article of clothing out of the open drawer. Once you process what he says all you can think is ouch. He’s fucked practically every girl on at this school, are you so repulsive you’re excluded from the campus wide Grayson Dolan body count? “Oh don’t be sad, I meant I’m not having sex with you tonight, y/n. Contrary to your hilarious nickname you came up with for me the first night we met, I don’t fuck drunk girls.”

You realize you may have said ouch out loud, have you been doing that all night? He’s only telling you this because he’s almost one hundred percent certain you’ll remember none of this in the morning. Between the jungle juice and natty seltzers, the only thoughts in your brain tomorrow will be getting to a toilet bowl immediately. He pulls out a shirt and a pair of boxers and tosses them your way. You don’t catch them, just start stripping your shirt off.

“Jesus, y/n, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were giving me a little strip tease.” He jokes with you, turning his head away from you, letting you keep at least part of your dignity. “Tell me when you’re done.”

“I can’t put them on, Grayson.” You whine, your drunken brain unable to comprehend how to put on a t shirt. You pick it up off the ground and hold it out for him to grab. “Help me.”

He huffs out and takes the shirt from your hands, he should at least be getting paid for babysitting you like he is. He pulls his shirt over your head and forces your arms through their respective holes. As he’s about to walk away from you again, you put and point at your shoes and jeans. He rolls his eyes and pulls both your shoes and socks of both feet before carefully undoing your zipper and shimmying the fabric off your sweaty legs, then pulling the pair of boxers over your hips. He’s usually taking underwear off girls, not putting a second pair on. His breathe hitches at the oddly intimate moment he’s sharing with you, you won’t remember any of it but he doesn’t usually do this. You suddenly feel very tired, almost collapsing on top of Grayson before he steadies your hips. He pulls back his comforter for you to slide under. You sink into his mattress and smile at your need for a bed being fulfilled. The lights shut off and you hear him unlock and open the door.

“Wait!” You call after him, making him stop in his tracks. “Can you stay?”

“You’re one needy chick when you’re drunk, huh?” He asks, walking back into the room and locking the door behind him again. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, you know that?”

You just give him a cheesy smile, not sure if he can even see you in the dark room, but you don’t care. You hear his shoes hit the ground and the bed dips next to you. You can still hear the music coming from the basement, it’s muffled but you can still make out every word. You roll over to face Grayson and he’s already looking at you.

“What’re you looking at?”

“You.”

A goofy grin graces your lips when he says it. If you were sober you’d probably protest, whack his arm or something, but now you don’t care. You let your index finger drag along his bicep, up over his shoulder and neck, around his face and then boop his nose. You can feel his face shift when he smiles. 

“You have a pretty smile,” The words leave your lips before you can even think if it’s an okay thing to say. He lets out a short laugh, finding your drunk self’s inability to filter your thoughts amusing. “You’re handsome, Grayson.”

“You’re drunk, y/n.” He teases you. “You need to stop talking before you say something you regret.”

You whine, faking a pout on your lips. “I think it when I’m not drunk too.”

He can’t contain his smile, pushing a piece of hair that has fallen into your face. “We’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight, y/n.”

You wake up with a pounding headache and no recollection of last night past kissing some boy in the basement of ATO. You rub your eyes, shielding them from the light coming in the large window. Large window? This isn’t your dorm, you’re not in your bed and that is certainly not your roommate passed out next to you.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You whisper repeatedly as you try your best to slip out of the bed you’re currently in. Your shirt and jeans and shoes are strewn across the floor and your in someone else’s shirt and pants. Underwear is still on, two pairs now which is comforting. In your attempt to sneak out of whoever’s room this is you ram your knee into the dresser beside the door. “Goddamnit!”

Before you can continue gathering your things, the figure that you were just sleeping next to takes in a deep breath and let’s out a loud groan, stretching out his arms. “Y/n?”

You know that voice from anywhere, you’re so fucked. “Grayson?”

He sits up and runs his hands through his hair. The contrast of his tan skins against the white comforter is breathtaking. His hair is going in all different directions but he still looks good, how does he always looks good? His silver chain hangs loose around his neck and falls just belong his collar bone. You genuinely believe, at least physically, he is without flaws.

“Surprised?”

“Obviously I am!” You shout back, hurting your own head in the process. “Oh god, oh fuck, did we?”

“God, no, y/n.” He stops your spiralling. You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t even know you were holding. “You think I would have sex with you if I had any doubt that you would remember it in the morning? No, you were hammered and about to keep drinking and I saw where the situation was going so I room you out of it. End of story.”

“So I changed myself?”

“You were meant to, but you started whining like a three year old that you didn’t know how to put a shirt one.” He replies. You’re not really sure how to feel about it, but it’s better than the alternative. “I put your clothes on and put you to bed.”

You let out a sigh, plopping yourself back onto the bed now that you know who it belongs to. You wish you could remember last night, knowing you probably did and said some things in your drunken state that you’re sure you’ll regret if you ever hear of them. Grayson just looks at you, wondering what’s going on in your mind and thinking about what you said to him last night. How you complimented his smile and called him handsome. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. When you turn your body to face him, he scans your features. Hair a mess from both the dingy basement and the hours of sleep you just got, your mascara has collected under your eyes but you still look pretty.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You pull him from his thoughts of you, he didn’t even realize he was staring. He shakes his head and puts on his signature smirk to prevent you from thinking anything other than that he’s an asshole who’s mind is on girls 24/7. He has a reputation to keep and all.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to kiss me or something.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

“Oh fuck off, Dolan.” You scoff at him before he makes the decision to bring himself just inches from your face. So close that you can feel the warmth from his body. Your first instinct is to touch him somewhere, anywhere, but you don’t act on it. “What are you doing?”

“Just getting a better look,” He replies making your eyes roll. Anytime you think you’re letting yourself fall for him he says something gross. “Do you want me to be doing something?”

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

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, y/n.”

It’s silent. There’s nothing to say. Your chest is moving up and down at a rapid pace, you’re not sure why you can’t seem to catch your breath but you can’t. His eyes flicker between your and and your lips. Before you can stop yourself you reach your hand to sit on his cheek and inch your body closer to his. The closer you get the more you can feel his hot breathe on your lips and without a second thought you bring your lips to meet his. Your brain is fuzzy and your body feels like it’s on fire but it feels right.

It doesn’t take long for Grayson to kiss you back, he’s actually shocked you gave in given the way you ignored him for weeks. He rolls over so that he can steady himself with him one arm beside you and the other gripping your waist. You can still barely breathe and he notices. He pulls away from you and give you the biggest shit eating grin. “Can believe you gave in.”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Prompt List #9 - Historical Aus/Prompts (Requested)

@viseriyen I know your focus was more 18th century France, but I never covered that during my degree, my focus was more 19th century Britain. This has a variety of historical aus/prompts, they won’t all be relevant and I can’t guarantee their historical accuracy for France, but I hope they help, give you ideas etc. 

“I can’t...you know I have no control over my marriage. I can’t even divorce him...I have nothing to hold against him.” “Then give him something to divorce you for.” “And tarnish my good name?” 

AU in which character a is desperately in love with character b, but can’t divorce their husband because divorce laws make it nigh on impossible for ‘wives’ to divorce their husbands without a ‘legitimate reason’. 

Intense heated love letters because we have to keep our distance and can’t do anything that would jeopardise our positions or our reputations. But, I can send you lusty love letters that you hide under your pillow instead. 

Illegitimate child/unwed pregnancy and the trials of being together, loving your child together but knowing they have little standing in society and the way people treat you because of that.

Fan language AU -> https://raulersongirlstravel.com/language-of-fans/#The_Language_of_the_Fan 

My parents are trying to marry me off and you're the latest person they’ve brought to show me off to and I don’t want to like you, but I kind of do. You clearly don’t want to be here anymore than me. 

The smallest touch is the most intense. 

You went off to war and come back after a long campaign the papers have been reporting on. You have appear gruff, mean, and cold to everyone else, but are soft with me. 

The typical trope of hardened, gruff character a who melts around character b. 

(19th c) I’m the town’s school teacher and you’re the gruff wanderer/traveller/cowboy/outlaw/etc. That’s come to town. You help me fix the school house and wrangle the little demons I teach. 

Sweetheart trinkets, like embroidered handkerchiefs, engraved jewellery, hidden message rings, carved trinkets etc. Especially a ‘here I made this for you or I had this made for you’. 

Letters that were never sent. After character a’s death the letters are found and posted to or given to character b revealing the unsaid feelings. 

We compete for top spot in school in spelling, mathematics, science etc. School rivals.

Character a bathing in a river, character b awkwardly stumbling upon them all apologetic or alternatively character a bathing in a river and character b protecting them from some no good ruffians. 

Horse rides; for leisure, maybe character a was stranded and has to share a horse with character b, being stuck in a carriage together. 

Childhood rivals who finally see each other after years of being apart, maybe because of boarding school/finishing school or otherwise. The horrible realisation that your rival is now hot and also can keep up with you in conversation. 

Those gentle kisses to the top of a hand or gentle touches between gloved hands. Gentle hands!!! Gentle kisses!! All demure and totally appropriate but with hidden meaning and heat. 

Childhood friends who haven’t seen each other since they were little and are now betrothed and oh my, you’re beautiful/handsome and I am not prepared for this.

We’re betrothed but have only ever communicated through letters and this is our first ever meeting and i’m petrified you aren’t going to be the person I know through letters

Perfume scented letters, secret code, love poems, and dried flowers. Sent long distances to you with love. 

Contraception catalogues and the very specific packaging of sheaths (aka early condoms) as things like pill boxes, ladies power boxes, cigarettes, etc. to hide them. Do with this as you will. 

I am spinster, you are a bachelor and we have a rivalry because how dare you get paid more than me and while i’m compared to a rotten egg. Alternatively, I am spinster by choice and refuse to marry, but you are making this very very hard. 

Gals being pals, boys being ‘mates’, the known cases of boarding school love between same sex couples and also we’re both spinsters/bachelours and work together in our intellectual studies and we’re totally not in love...no sireee. 

Oscar Wilde had a thing working class and military kink so do with that what you will, i’m sure you could make a upperclass/working class au/couple. One’s rough, resilient, hard working, and one’s dainty, far too spoiled and brattish but they both like each other somehow. 

You’re gruff and rough/snappy, rude, but I can see how sweet you are to horses, animals, kids, and I know there’s a softer side beneath all of that. 

It’s my first ‘season’ and you save me from all these men/women sniffing around me trying to get my attention. 

Scandalous private time i.e. we’re supposed to be chaperoned but here we are in the garden on our own together or in the woods alone or in a small corner without a chaperone and what would people say. 

Character a defending character b’s honour. 

You’re my second in a duel/I’m your second in a duel, please don’t die

All the duels, duelling each other, duelling for the other, defending the other’s honour etc. 

You look beautiful but dear god why are there so many layers! 

I just spent an hour drawing you a bath bucket by bucket because I love you, but i’m a hot mess right now as a result. 

You break social convention for my comfort. I.e. something like you forgo allowing people to watch our wedding night because you want me to be comfortable or you refuse to allow some other stupid tradition that you know scares/intimidates/upsets me. 

Over the top professions of love. 

“I would die, without an answer to my feelings. I would die here. My breath would choke in my throat, my blood run cold, and my selfish heart stop. I cannot live without answer, without knowing whether my feelings are returned or not.” 

Character a being the dotting husband/wife/partner and helping character b get out of all that ridiculous clothing so they can cuddle and sleep. Who needs maids and servants when you have a life partner. 

I want a partnership, a kindred spirit, a soul mate, not a servant.  You want the same thing. I am awed by this.  (possibly + we’re rivals, childhood enemies etc.) 

Your family don’t approve of me, and mine don’t approve of you. I wish we could simply run away, but that’s a foolish dream. 

Educated woman expects man to talk about her wandering womb and how education will make her insane and barren, instead finds man actually wants to hold an intellectual conversation with her and they strike up and unexpected friendship and then love. 

Character a denying themselves of character b because they don’t feel good enough or because they feel it would be selfish maybe because they’re in a war or because they can’t provide what they feel character b deserves. Character b is not here for this bullshit. 

We get trapped in a small cabin in a snowstorm together wild west au. 

We get trapped in any small space in any time period au

I would say we should stop having children but I love each and every one of them and I love you too. Large family AU.

We’ve just lost our child in infancy, grief, hurt/comfort. 

You’re in labour and i’m terrified for you. I am not allowed in the birthing chamber and the midwife would murder me if I tried. 

Alternatively, I refuse to not be present for the birth of our child and don’t care what anyone says. I'm here to support you and will be physically in the room. 

You’re competing for my affections but you never had to compete because you always had them. 

You do not have to duel everyone for me over the smallest slight, look now you’ve gone and hurt yourself and I suppose I’ll have to give you my favourite handkerchief to deal with it.

I am pro royalist and you are pro-republic. I should hate you, you should hate me, but god if you aren’t all consuming. 

You’re one of my suitors and the gifts you bring me aren’t jewels or flowers, but books, microscopes, telescopes, knowledge. I like the way you think and seem to seem me.

I am nearly trampled by someone’s horse in the street, but you step in just in time to get me out of the way even though it puts you in danger yourself

Despite the cost of sugary treats you always turn up to my parlour with some sort of sweet and I know they’re not the cheapest. 

Anything involving a copper bathtub is a vibe. 

I always look for your seal on my letters. Yours is the first letter I read and the one I treasure most. 

I have kept every note, every little, every little thing you’ve ever written or drawn for me.

If images inspire you you might find my other blog @theillustratedmagazine helpful. It has 20th and 19th century illustrations. 

[thewalkingdead-fan101]

In This Hell Daryl Dixon X Reader Part 4/??

Hey Guys! Part 4 is here! I really hope that you guys enjoy it! I also apologise if something isn't written correctly. :) Warnings- General Walking dead warnings, Blood, Gore, Swearing.

Opening my eyes, I sit up uncomfortably as I stretch. 
Last night, the group had a restless nights sleep… well more so than usual.
Daryl left in the middle of the night, to look for Sophia, and still hasn’t come back. Carol was up all night crying… 
Not that I blame her, Her daughter is missing.
"Morning." "Morning Carol." I smiled softly. "Where's Daryl?" She asked watching the door behind me. "He left last night, and went looking, still hasn't come back that I know of.” "Oh.. My, I am so sorry." "Don't be.. He is a grown man, he can handle himself." "I really do appreciate this." "I know that if it was my child out there you'd help to find them." She softly smiled nodding, then hugged me. "I'll see what's going on." I smiled and walked out.
I look out and seen Daryl, leaning against the traffic barrier, exhaling smoke.
 We locked eyes from across the car wrecks.
“At least he is okay.” I said under my breath.
I walked over to where the everyone was gathering supplies for their search party.
“Morning Glenn." I smiled, walking past. "Everyone. Come here." We all walked towards where Rick was. He unfolded an arsenal on the hood of a car. "Everybody takes a weapon." "These aren't the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?" Andrea asked, "We've been over that. Daryl, Rick and I are carrying. We can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles." My brother answered "It's not the trees I'm worried about." "Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it's game over for all of us. So you need to get over it." Shane said. "The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side. Chances are she'll be by the creek... It's her only landmark." Daryl said. "Stay quiet, stay sharp. Keep space between you, but always stay within sight of each other." "Everybody assemble your packs." Shane announced. They better not think that I'm staying here. "Shane" I ran after him. "Yeah?" He asked.
 Before I got the chance to say anything, arms wrapped around me and started to carry me away. I didn't scream because Shane was laughing as soon as it happened, so it wasn't a walker. I was put down away from everyone. "How-" My back was pushed against a car, and his lips crashed to mine.. I bit his lip, not hard but not soft. "What was that for?!" "For not letting me know that you were okay…” I said sweetly. “Ya don’t need to worry about me.”
“I do though… I worry about you.” "I'll see ya later." He said softly kissing my neck. "Huh?" "You're gonna be staying here while we look for Sophia." He continued. I rolled my head back. "Okay… I will see you when you get back.” I closed my eyes and the sensation stopped. My eyes shot open to see Daryl, running towards the group. I scoffed when realisation hit me. He hit me where I was most vulnerable… I smirked, that asshole. I walked back to the RV. "Why are you so happy?" "That man... Deserves an award for that." We looked at each other and laughed. "Where's Dale?" We both got up and looked atop the RV. "Ain't you supposed to be fixing that radiator? What if they come back with Sophia and Rick wants to move on right away?" "I had it fixed yesterday." "What? What was all that rubbing and sanding for then? That just bullshit?" "Yeah, that's one word, another word would be pantomime. Just for show… No one else needs the know that." "Pantomime…” T-dog sighed. "If the others know we're mobile-" "They'd just want to go." I answered. "So you don't think they're gonna find Sophia, that it?" "I'm just guarding against the worst. Sooner or later, if she isn't found, people will start doing the math. I want to hold off the needs-of-the-many-versus-the-needs-of-the-few arguments as long as I can." "That's one tricky hose, huh?" "Very." Dale smiled. "Look I'm going to look around for a bit, is there anything I need to look for?" "Not at this moment. But please, please stay close." Dale said. I grabbed a duffel bag I found laying on the ground earlier, slinging it over my shoulder. "Stay safe." "Will do."
 I was walking around for almost two hours and the bag was almost full. I heard a shuffle behind me and turned quickly, only to see a rabbit run across the highway, I smiled and sighed when I heard a snarl. I looked back to see a walker coming my way I looked down and saw a stick, ducking down and picking it up I lodged it into its eye, over and over again, it's blood splattered all over my shirt, neck and face. I decided to walk back and as I arrived I over-heard Dale and T-dogs conversation. "What are we doing?" "Pulling supplies together." "No, I mean.. What are we doing? People off in the woods, they's looking for that poor girl and we're here. Why? Because they think that we're the weakest. What are you, 70?" "Sixty-four." "Uh huh. And I'm the one black guy. Realise how precarious that makes my situation?" "What the hell are you talking about?" "I'm talking about two good-old-boy cowboy sheriffs and a redneck whose brother cut off his own hand because I dropped a key.. Who in that scenario you think is gonna be first to get lynched?" "You can't be serious... Am I... Hey, am I missing something? Those Cowboys have done alright by Us. And if I'm not mistaken that redneck went out of his way to save your ass… More than once." "And don't forget about Andrea. Kills her own sister." "She was already dead." "Then wants to blow herself up. Yeah, she's all there." "She's having a tough time. What is wrong with you?" "The whole world is having a tough time. Damn, man! Open your eyes. Look where we are! Stuck in this mess here!" "Shhh." "Let's just go.. Let's just take the RV." "You've gone off the deep end." "I mean it, man. Why are we on the side of the road like live bait? Let's go, you and me and (Y/n). Let's go before they get back." "Oh, my god! You're burning up. Give me that! Come on! Here, take these. We've got to knock that fever down....where the hell are they?" "Dale, We are the weak links. An old man, a black guy and a little pregnant (Y/S/T) girl." I took a deep breath in and what was being said. 
“Nice to know what really goes on in that head of yours Theodore.. There should be some drugs in the bag." I said throwing the duffel bag at him.
 As the bag landed in front of Theodore, I noticed the two of them slowly stand up. 
“Oh, my god! Is that blood?" Dale rushed over. "Yeah. I took down a walker. It’s no big deal.” “No big-“ dale started but was interrupted by a loud scream erupted from the forest. Both Dale and I hurried to the Forrest line. All of a sudden it was quiet. After about 10 minutes of standing there waiting, I was about to walk away.
 "They're back." Dale said. "Carl's been shot." Glenn said stepping over the railing. "Shot? What do you mean shot?" "I don't know, Dale, I wasn't there. All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori." "And you let her?" Dale asked. I hugged Carol as she shook her head, after a few seconds she left for the RV. "Climbed down out of my asshole, man. Rick sent her, she knew Lori's Name and Carl's." Daryl said walking past, not even acknowledging that I was there. "I heard screams, was that you?" Dale asked Andrea. "She got attacked by a walker. It was a close call." "Andrea, are you alright?" She looked at him and the look on her face showed pure annoyance. "Let's go." We started to walk back when all of a sudden Daryl burst out of the RV, running towards us. Next thing i know is that I was being crushed in a hug. "You do know that if I can't breathe neither can the baby." I laughed softly. He pulled back mumbling something when he looked down. "Why are ya bloody?" I stayed silent. "Answer me." "I was attacked by a walker, and before you go and yell at them for it, I decided to look for supplies." "You are on lockdown, from now on, you ain't being alone." "Daryl, I’m not going to be a damsel in distress, or bait. Im not going to be in lock down.” "You're on lockdown! You ain't gonna be Bait and you ain't gonna be alone." “I guess that there is no point in arguing?” “Nah, there ain't. This conversation is over.” 
We both returned to the group.

“The girl on the horse, Maggie, she gave us clear instructions on how to get to the farm. We could all relocate there.” Glenn suggested.
“I won't do it. We can't just leave.” Carol defended. “Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak.” Dale tried reasoning. “What if she comes back and we're not here? It could happen.” She argued “If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful.” Andrea cut in. “Okay. We got to plan for this. I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave her some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV.” Daryl spoke. “If the RV is staying, I am too.” “Thank you. Thank you both.” Carol smiled softly at Dale and Daryl. “I’m in.” Andrea nodded. “Well, if you're all staying then I’m-“ “Not you, Glenn. You're going. Take Carol's Cherokee.” Dale argued “Me? Why is it always me?” “You have to find this farm, reconnect with our people and see what's going on. But most important, you have to get T-Dog there. This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection. Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics, the ones that (Y/n) found won’t help for much longer. Because if not, T-Dog will die, no joke.” Dale stated. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Daryl walk over to Merle’s motorcycle. “Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle. Why'd you wait till now to say anything? Got my brother's stash. Crystal, X. Don't need that. Got some kick ass painkillers. Doxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class. Merle got the clap on occasion.” 
He tossed over a bag of assorted drugs, then pointed at me. “You, get ya stuff. You’re going with Glenn and Dog.” 
“Excuse me?”
 “You heard me.” He said walking away.

I ran after him. 
“Daryl, I want to stay, I want to be here for Carol.” 
“I don’t care what ya want.”
 “Why are you acting like this?”
 “Im already babysitting the others. Im not babysitting you too.”
 “Are you being serious? I don’t need to be babysat!” 
“You’re an easy target out here. It’s almost dark. You’re going with them.”
“Daryl-“
 “I ain’t arguing with ya. Get your shit.” He stalked off. I sighed in defeat and entered the RV, grabbing my backpack, making sure that I had the book that has become my new best friend, along the journey.
 As I exited the RV I noticed Glenn helping T-dog into the Cherokee.
Making my way towards the car, I was pulled aside and into a hug.
“Thank you. For everything.” Carol sniffled into my shoulder.
 “Hey, we’re going to find her.” I responded hugging her closer. I could feel her body softly shake against mine as she sobbed.
 “You’re so strong Carol, Sophia needs that when she comes back. She needs you at your best.” I pulled away and wiped the tears from her cheek. “I will see you again soon.” I smiled softly. “Please, Make sure you tell Lori that I’m praying for Carl.” “I will. Stay safe.” I walked over to where Glenn was talking to T-Dog and Dale.

“You’re coming?” T-dog asked. 
“I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.” I sarcastically laughed. “It may be the safest place for you. Especially in your predicament.” Andrea stated.
“In my predicament?” I scoffed “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Andrea sighed pulling me in for a small hug.
“It’s fine.” 
“I think it’s time for you guys to hit the road, while there’s still some daylight. Dont want to be taking any wrong turns.” Dale smiled. “Dale, Just remember, Backtrack to Fairburn road, the farm is two miles down. The mailbox says Greene.” Glenn stopped.
 “Fairburn, two miles down, Greene.” He nodded. “Where’s Daryl?” I asked hopeful. “Im not sure.” Dale smiled sadly.
 “Make sure you’re all safe please… Thank you.” I replied hugging him, getting into the car, behind T-dog. 
“I will.” Dale nodded. 
Glenn put the Cherokee in reverse, slowly peeling out before turning around.
As the car was turning, I spotted a pair of eyes watching, leaning against one of the trees. “Fairburn isn’t that far. Maybe 10 minutes?” Glenn spoke up, trying to fill the silence.
“Is this really a good idea? I mean we don’t even know who these people are.” I responded. 
“They seem normal. I mean why would Rick send someone to us if they were going to hurt us?”
 “Crazier things have happened.” T-dog muttered. “Come on guys, we need to be positive. They’re helping Carl. They don’t need to.” Glenn stated.
 After turning onto Fairburn Road, we continued on for the two miles. 
“Glenn. I think we missed it.”
 “What?” 
“The farm, I think we missed it…”
 “Are you sure?” He asked pulling up. “I think so? We’re looking for Greene right?” I asked. 
“Yeah.” He sighed. “How far?” 
“Not that far… I think it’s the one behind us, I’ll go check.” I went to open the door. “No. Daryl will kill me if something happens. I’ll just back up.” He smiled nervously. 
He put the car into reverse, making sure to shine the headlights onto the mailbox when it entered our view.
 “You were right… Greene.” 
“Ill get the gate. There’s no walkers around, and it looks safe to me.” I smiled, jumping out and walking toward the gate, not leaving any time to argue. 
“(Y/n)! Get back in the car! Glen whisper shouted from the driver side window. Unlatching the chain, I pushed the gate inwards and followed through. 
“Glenn, hurry up and drive in.” 
The car slowly started rolling forward, stopping a metre away from the gate.
I pushed it closed and re-latched the gate before jumping back into the car. “Lets go.” I smiled. Glenn shook his head and T-dog chuckled. We drove down the road, leading towards a beautiful farm house.
Stopping the car we all got out and walked up the front steps.
 “You okay T?” I asked looking over as he shivered, only for him to nod.
We all stopped and looked at the front door. “So do we ring the bell? I mean it looks like people live here.” Glenn looked at us. “We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we? Having to be considerate.” T-dog asked. “Did you close the gate up the road when you drove in?”
I jumped, looking over to where the voice came from, watching a young woman with short brown hair, stand up and walk toward us. “Uh, hi. Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything. Hello. Nice to see you again. We met before briefly.” Glenn rambled. “Look, we came to help. There anything we can do? It's not a bite. I cut myself pretty bad though.” “We'll have it looked at. I'll tell them you're here.” “We have some painkillers and antibiotics. I already gave him some. If Carl needs any…” “Come on inside. I'll make you something to eat.” She smiled at us.
We followed her inside, to see Rick and Lori standing in one of the door frames.

“Hey” Glenn patted him on the shoulder. “Hey” he returned it. “Um, we're here, okay?” Glenn nodded. “Thank you.” Lori sighed. “Whatever you need.” T-dog added, stepping aside for me. “Lori.” I pulled her in for a hug.
“(Y/n/n).” She hugged back as hard as I did.
We pulled away.
 “What are you doing here?” She asked. “I was overruled by Daryl. I wanted to make sure that you guys are okay…” I smiled softly pushing her hair out of her face. She laughed softly, her eyes rimmed red from the tears.
 “How is Carl? What’s happening?” I asked. “He was shot, the bullet, it, it broke. A fragment has caused internal bleeding. He is having seizures and its terrifying me. This man Hershel, he is going to operate... one of his group shot Carl, he is with Shane trying to find a respirator I think... I could lose my boy.” She responded tears streaming down her face.
“Oh honey.” I puled her back in for another hug.
 “You Grimes’ are strong. He will pull through. Go, be with your husband and your boy. I’ll be out here.” I smiled as she nodded. “Thank you.” She said looking at me before disappearing into the room. 
I followed the direction Glenn and T-dog went, entering a kitchen/dining area. “(Y/n), this is Maggie and this is Patricia...” Glenn introduced me. “Nice to meet you both. Thank you for your hospitality.” “You got here right in time. This couldn't go untreated much longer, ‘Merle Dixon’,  Is that your friend with the antibiotics?” Patricia asked, looking after T-dogs arm. “No, ma'am. Merle's no longer with us. Daryl gave us those, his brother.” Glenn responded. “Not sure I'd call him a friend.” T-dog muttered. “He is today. This doxycycline might have just saved your life. You know what Merle was taking it for?” She asked. “The clap. Um, venereal disease. That's what Daryl said.” Glenn nodded “I'd say Merle Dixon's clap was the best thing to ever happen to you.” She lightly joked. “I'm really trying not to think about that.” “Lighten up T.” I smiled softly, patting his shoulder.
I left the room, walking towards the front door. “Where are you going?” Glenn stood up.
“To get some air, I’m only going to the porch. I promise I’m not going far.” I smiled. He reluctantly sat back down. Taking a seat on the top step, I look out over the fields, closing my eyes, taking in the night air. Hearing gravel against wheels, I open my eyes and look up, seeing headlights making their way to the house. 
I run inside and poked my head into the room Rick and Lori was in.
“-Rick, Lori, you may want to step out.” The man I assume to be Hershel finishes. 
“I’m sorry for interrupting but they’re back.” “You stay here with him.” Hershel told Patricia.
I followed Rick and Hershel outside.
 Rick and Shane shared a hug.
 “Carl?” Shane asked “There's still a chance.” Rick responded. “Otis?” Hershel asked. “No.” Shane shook his head. “We say nothing to Patricia. Not till after. I need her.” We all nodded.
Hershel rushed inside with the bags of medical supplies. 
I looked over to my brother and hugged him, I left Shane and Rick to talk. 
Finding Lori, I sat with her and grabbed her hand, running my thumb across the back of it. “He will pull through…” I nodded.
Maggie, Glenn and T-dog has joined the living room, now waiting room. After 15 minutes Rick returns with Shane.
Waiting another 15 minutes he stood up.
“Is there anywhere I can clean up?” Shane asked. “Ill take you.” Maggie stood up, Shane following.
After an hour or so the door opened. “He seems to have stabilised.” Hershel emerged. “Oh god.” Rick breathed. “I don't have words.” Lori said huddling close to her husband. “I don't either. Wish I did. How do I tell Patricia about Otis?” “You go to Carl. I'll go with Hershel.” Rick told Lori.
Hershel and Rick left, leaving, Lori, myself and the others.
Lori looked over to me.
“Go, see your boy.” I smiled.
Glenn and T-dog were celebrating.
I smiled as they laughed, even joining them before leaving the room.

My head turned and I seen Patricia sitting at the table, where she not long ago treated T-dog.
 I could hear the muffled voices of Hershel and Rick, then the gut wrenching sound of desperate sobs throughout the house. 
My heart breaking for the woman, the woman whose husband won’t ever return.


Series Masterlist Next Part

[consilium-games]

Setting, Genre, and Principles

I talked recently with a friend about Apocalypse World, genre, and Principles. For those unfamiliar, Principles are a design and game-running technique that Apocalypse World did not invent, but did refine and explicate, a bit like how the Greeks knew of static electricity, but it was Galvani who made a battery on purpose, that others could study. Since I haven't died yet, I have a project in mind, in this case one that really explicitly relies on Principles in its basic design, so in this essay I want to work out a basic edge of 'what Principles can cover'. Namely, the edge of 'genre'.

I'll define a couple technical terms here because I intend to use them pretty narrowly:

Diagetic means the usual, "bound within the world of a given story".

Commentative means "outside of any story, things we say about stories-generally".

So a setting counts as diagetic, bound within its own logic and the logic of the single work it appears in. Diagetically we'd ask "why does the author choose to write dragons in this way?"

A genre counts as commentative, not bound within any story. It may or may not codify some stories, an author might consciously bend to or defy a genre as they understand it, but most importantly on the genre level, we don't ask "why did the author write dragons like this?" Instead we ask "why do people-generally like to see dragons?"

In talking with that friend, she said she had difficulty reading AW, which I can't really fault anyone for: I'd consider AW almost as much a polemic manifesto as a procedural manual. And the former undermines the latter. Part of her issue came from her looking for a setting, not realizing that properly speaking, AW doesn't have one. I said as much, and as we talked, I then said a lot more than I should:

After confirming that "Baker does not give AW a setting", in a bit of enthusiasm on the idea of 'genre emulation', I went on to say that "Baker gives his apocalypse". This prompted confusion, for the reasonable question arises, "how can Baker provide his own, particular, post-apocalypse story without giving a setting?" So I should have spoken more carefully, and I wrote most of this essay to over-answer that question for my friend. I've massaged it into its current form, for you non-her readers, in hopes that it helps someone, or if nothing else I can refer back to it as I clarify my own cranky lit-game-dev ideas.

To me, 'a setting' goes like this:

DnD has a kind of proto-setting, it has dragons like-so, it has elves who look pretty and live in the woods, it has dwarves who look TV-ugly and live in the mountains, it has orcs who look ugly-ugly and live in the wastes, it has humans it treats as default and live wherever. It has vague gestures of settler-colonial race-relations but not enough anything to explore, unless you the reader put it there. DnD doesn't really have much of a genre more specific than "uh, generally sword-and-sorcery fantasy".

Shadowrun has basically the same things, and a specific setting: neoliberal dystopia and collapse of the state, but otherwise 'basically our world'.

But more than that, Shadowrun also--for its many faults--has a commentative-sense genre: in Shadowrun, might makes right (or at least right-now); money rules everything, except maybe loyalty; it treats magic as innately cool and natural but technology as evil and you maybe would better die than get an artificial heart. These story-contours don't care at all about where things happen or what institutions exist.

To take another example, Cowboy Bebop tells a solid noir western story set in space. The fact that it takes place in space ultimately matters very little to the 'western' or 'noir', though. Spike knows he lives in space, and he'd agree that--to someone alive in our world today--he lives in a sci-fi story. He doesn't know that he got cast as a western-revenge-fable protagonist (though he might agree if someone asked). He definitely doesn't know that he has a corner of the story that goes more-western, while Jet lives in a corner of the story that goes more-noir.

If you wanted, you could tell Cowboy Bebop beat for beat, almost unedited, as a straight-faced noir western. Instead of Jet's main ship they have a wagon, the individual bounty-hunters have their own horses, Ed does something weird with telegraphs and adding-machines. Instead of vacuum between planets of our solar system, they weather the desert waste between far-flung towns. It would remain a story about revenge, losing oneself, finding oneself, remaking oneself, and the things we have to do for the people we love, and what happens when we don't.

You could not do this and also remove the noir, or the western, those define the kind-of-story. If you left it in space but took out the noir, entire episodes of moral ambiguity would disappear (like Ganymede Elegy). Likewise taking out the western, the premise of bounty-hunters wouldn't fit and couldn't stay. I would even go further, and say that while I don't mind Cowboy Bebop sitting on the 'sci-fi' shelf so that consumers can find it, I wouldn't class Cowboy Bebop as sci-fi. A masterpiece, but not sci-fi. Because I think that as a genre, the core of sci-fi asks "where are we going, and what will we do when we get there?" Cowboy Bebop does not care to ask this question, it cares about the human condition right now, and what people right now will do. It takes place in space because space is cool.

Second hot take: Kafka's The Castle counts as sci-fi, by the above conception. Extremely, disturbingly prescient sci-fi, precisely predicting things from call-centers to Big Data and the professional managerial class, and warning of the ease with which a competent, level-headed, and well-meaning person can confront The Machine, and The Machine will completely hollow out and dehumanize them, rob them of every competence and agency, until The Machine no longer notices them as a foreign object.

No one would put The Castle on the sci-fi shelf, because it has no shiny labcoat SCIENCE![tm], telephones and typewriters show up as cutting-edge in the setting. But just look at the concept of tracking, monitoring, filing, and refiling, and bureaucratic shuffle and managerial maladaption and "not my department" and "oh you have to fill out a form 204B -> well file a form AV-8 to requisition a 204B -> look do I have to do everything for you, I'm a busy cog you know". Look at that concept as a technology, like Kafka did.

The story explicitly refers to this as innovation, as a deliberate thing that the Count and his bureaucrats did, on purpose, with intent and expected effect. The Castle explores social science, political technology. And Kafka rigorously explores its psychic effects on the subjects, more thoroughly than Gibson waxing poetic about VR headsets and the Matrix. The Castle qualifies as fiction about science, where we're going and what we'll (have to) do when we get there. It takes place in a quaint provincial village that might lie somewhere in Bohemia in the very early 20th century.

So I allege that while setting matters for writing a given story, it doesn't matter a lot for kind-of story. And in my conversation with my friend, I should have sensed the kernel I could have dug out, but instead, I wrote the rest of this essay, particular to post-apocalyptic genre fiction, and germane to Apocalypse World.

Bringing this back to apocalypsii:

In the Australian outback in the late-70s, the gas supply all but disappears, causing societal collapse and civil breakdown.

In the American midwest, an unspecified disaster wipes out communications and supply-lines, causing survivors to turn feral and cannibalistic.

In New York in the late 60s, food shortages and overpopulation cause the government to criminalize almost everything so that they can grind people up into food.

These are settings in the sense that I mean: a place, a time, implicit societal structures and institutions, "where is this, what world is this, what is here?" DnD's setting doesn't have much of a 'where' but it more or less assumes "uh, Earth kinda, sorta"; Shadowrun says "literally Earth but N years after magic becomes real and also DnD races". But the above three post-apoc settings have very different everything-else: if you were making a post-apoc section of a library and wanted to break down into sub-genre, you'd want to put the three works above on different aisles.

Mad Max tells a story where holding on to old power structures is complicated, sometimes good, sometimes bad, and it emphatically matters how we go about doing it: when marauding punks kill your family, you may justifiably go and kill them back; but when a power-mad warlord inflicts his brutal regime, you owe him no allegiance.

The Road tells a story where everything we care about can just blow away in the wind, and at best we can only cling to what we cherish, while we can. Power comes and goes, structures don't last, but cruelty and misery endure eternal and will always win--but we try anyway.

Soylent Green tells a story where societal structures can technically endure, but themselves have no moral compass and can inflict as much cruelty as uncaring nature. You may live in an illusion in which civilization appears to function, but in fact you have no more safety than the wilderness, and indeed you didn't realize it, but you're the cannibals, and perhaps soon the meal.

Those considerations all sit at the genre-type, commentative level, and I class them as wholly unconcerned with setting. Each of these stories would tell just as well in space, or an underground complex, or even Bronze-Age Fertile Crescent if you twist a few narrative arms. The where and when and what doesn't define or determine the kind of story, the genre, even if setting can help or hinder genre goals.

Bringing this back to Baker: he doesn't give a place where things happen; he doesn't give an inciting event that brought the apocalypse; he doesn't even describe what happened during the apocalypse, or how long ago it happened, or give a date for "today". I'll list three AW settings I've run or played in or heard about:

Sunlight vanished altogether, though somehow it hasn't gotten any colder. Darkness and shadow can become animate and even sapient, and can claim people, though it doesn't seem exactly malevolent or 'evil'. Rule of law has mostly fallen apart, but out of fear and prudence people mostly avoid wanton violence, because if you see someone you don't like, you could roll up on them and take their stuff--but just as easily they could kill you, and just as easily as either, the Dark might just take both of you; you're safer keeping the Dark at bay and not hassling someone else, unless you've got good reason.

A few years(?) ago, survivors woke up from total amnesia and some kind of fugue: it seems like this fugue lasted at least some years, there's some decay of modern-to-us structures, but the ruins look fully recognizable and often quite well-preserved. But signs abound, literally painted twenty-feet-high on buildings and structures, that something unfathomable happened. The giant wordless pictograms seem to warn to protect tools and structures, to stay together and not go off alone, indicate places that once had lots of food or other important resources, and most alarmingly they show gigantic hands reaching down from above onto some of the pictogram figures. No one can remember anything from before the wakeup though, so the meaning is lost.

Something like twenty years ago, the world broke in some fundamental way: it always rains or at least fog abounds, long-distance communication inexplicably but insurmountably fails to work, and cityscape has sprawled on its own to incorporate seemingly the entire world. As far as anyone knows, the city spans infinitely in every direction, it has no edge, only more city. The city-cancer seems waterlogged and rotting everywhere, some few places fit for use and occupancy, but if you go down any given street and step inside an empty house or shop, it probably won't suit human habitation. People still habitually carry on the forms and outlines of societal norms, mostly, because what else can they do? You can't burn it all down as long as it keeps raining.

I brought these up because Baker's conception of 'post-apoc' does not cover the whole of "all post-apocalyptic literature"--it couldn't, shouldn't, and if it did it would have little or no use to anyone. Baker's narrower conception, the Principles that AW's rules expect a setting to follow, narrow things down and keep the rules crisp, tight, and tractable.

Each of the AW campaigns above has a totally different setting, aiming in totally different directions for different things--but, they all live inside Baker's Principles for a post-apoc that fits within AW: scarcity, weak but present society and norms, a Before, an After, and no going back, and each has a 'Psychic Maelstrom' that excuses a lot of narrative fiat and deus ex machina and having characters just do weirdness not otherwise specified.

That 'Psychic Maelstrom' comes closest to giving what I'd call "a setting" as in "place, time, institutions", because it sits at the diagetic level. A distinct thing bound within a given story--except it only barely counts as 'diagetic'. Because Baker only gives loose guidelines for what a Psychic Maelstrom should be or do. Baker's own at-his-table Psychic Maelstrom will look nothing like mine, or my girlfriend's, or her erstwhile friend's, because in those three AW settings up there, each of us had totally different ideas for what to do with a Psychic Maelstrom in a post-apocalyptic setting.

But: all three of us used our Psychic Maelstroms for the things Baker says to use them for: unleash weirdness, justify unrealistic but narratively satisfying twists, allow and excuse extra awesomeness, maybe use as a metaphor or allegory for "how it got this way", as well as "where it could go", in literary terms. And . . . Baker doesn't really get closer than this, to giving "place, time, institutions, history and people and events". So in the sense I understand 'setting', a diagetic construct within a given story, AW doesn't have one.

But in the commentative genre sense, AW very definitely gives Baker's apocalypse, in that it gives a recipe for the things that Baker considers essential to the post-apoc genre (or at least, the aisle of the post-apoc library he wants to confine his game to). He doesn't try to tell a Soylent Green apocalypse so much--you'd need to twist some arms and ignore some Principles to tell Soylent Green. Nor does he try to tell Children of Men so much--you'd have to leave a lot out to rein AW in to just Children of Men. He instead aims* for something closer to Mad Max, but heavy on Weird West, and a lot less somber and desolate, so more like Fury Road. And he says, "here's how:".

(*) But, of course, he doesn't actually tell these stories. Instead he has the project of telling the reader how to tell this kind-of story. So, while he gives some sample poetic images of skylines on fire and the world torn asunder, he doesn't care to talk about the virus, or the metorite, or the gas-shortage or the food-shortage. He doesn't care about the where or when or what, and even with the Psychic Maelstrom, the one concrete diagetic thing he gives--it sits there as a meta-thing, explicitly unstated whether it resulted from The Apocalypse or its inciting event, or caused it as the inciting event, or something else.

All of which boils down to: commentative, about-stories, genre-level stuff owns bones, and I weigh it heavier than diagetic, in-stories, setting-level stuff. Baker gives excellent tools, within his purple polemic prose, for that first stuff and gives little or nothing for the second.

[moccahobi]

An Almost Wasted Weekend [Jungkook x Reader]

Warnings: N/a... it is a college au instead of a high school au as I didn’t feel comfortable with doing a high school au... I also only used prompts 11 and 20 since 1 was used before!

Summery: Jungkook seems to take a friendship the wrong way. What happens then? Jin notices. Thank you my cowboy emoji for participating in my 2020 special! I hope you liked this!

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff; College AU

A/N: Thank you @honeymoonjin​ for beta reading my fic and giving me such amazing advice! It means a lot for me! Also, this fic took something out of me (hence the bad title and summery). I am tired but I am going to keep working on more surprises! This month and next have a lot of awesome things coming your alls way! I hope you liked this and will like the rest that I am making!

You sighed, frowning at your empty desk. Jungkook had taken all your papers from you after you refused to stop making paper planes and throwing them at him during the last lecture you two shared. It was annoying on one hand because you wanted to annoy him as much as possible and on the other hand, it was annoying because you also wanted to take notes in this lecture. Of course, Jungkook would never believe that. He has been your friend for almost three years now and, while he hasn't been in all of your classes, he knew you have rarely taken notes. You were a good student for the most part, but the notes were not something you easily did nor were they very helpful for you to learn from. The thing was, the topic of this lecture was something you had a better grasp of already. Notes would be helpful. 

Sparing a glance at Jungkook, you saw that he was engrossed in the lecture. How could you ask him for your paper now? He's been annoyed by you so much today. There was no doubt in your mind that he had reached his limit of you annoying him. 

Instead, you turned to Jondin (someone you often studied with as he was in the same major as you) and gently tapped his shoulder, "Hey... can I borrow a sheet of paper? I want to take notes for once."

"Of course! And can I talk to you after the lecture? I don't think I can make our next few study dates." He whispered back, side-eyeing you as he kept his eyes trained on the professor. You simply nodded before starting to take your own notes mixed in with a few doodles. 

Partway through the lecture, you broke from note-taking to take a sip of water only to see Jungkook looking at you with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow. The man looked as if someone had told him that moths weren't actually goth butterflies. You gave him a once over, taking the small chance to admire the looks of your best friend before raising one of your eyebrows in a silent question. 

"When did you start talking to Jondin?" He whispered, leaning in close to not disturb others in the hall.

"Since I found out that we are in the same major and can study together?" You replied, looking over at him, your heart speeding up at the close proximity, "Why do you care?" 

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something before closing it and muttering a quiet, "Whatever." 

Throughout the rest of the lecture, you found yourself looking at Jungkook. He had reacted so strangely and you had no idea why. Never before had he acted that way. Never. Nothing else happened before the lecture finished up, Jungkook lazily taking notes and you attempting to focus on what your professor was saying. Soon enough you found yourself getting up at the end of the lecture, slowly putting all of your stuff away. 

"I... Ummm... I have to go. Here are your papers. See you later, eh?" Jungkook said quickly, his face beet red as he quickly set your papers on your desk and bolted from the lecture hall. That was even stranger than what happened before. Why did he run out of the classroom? Never in the three years of knowing Jungkook and being in similar classes as him has he ever done that. He has always enjoyed slowly packing up unless he had another class to attend right after but you knew that he didn't today. This lecture was his last class today. Normally he would simply go to the library and settle in for doing classwork or go to the gym to exercise. 

You gently shake your head before turning to Jondin who seemed to be holding back laughter, "I have never seen him leave you so quickly. What did you say to him?" 

"Just that I wanted to take notes this lecture." You said slowly, looking around the rapidly emptying lecture hall as you ran over the interaction again. That was all that was said right? 

Well, there was that thing with Jondin but that hardly counted. 

"Wow. He must have never seen you be studious before then." Jondin laughed, "Anyways, I am sorry about having to reschedule our usual study dates. It's just that I finally asked out Sana and tomorrow I have to prepare and then it's Friday." 

At this you laughed, "I honestly don't care, Jondin. I have listened to you pine over her so much that I am honestly proud of you for finally asking her out." You said with a small laugh. Every break the two of you had was full of him talking about how wonderful Sana was to the point that you were almost worried he was a stalker. He wasn't. Jondin was simply very shy. 

Similar to Jungkook if you thought about it. 

"If you want, we can spend an extra hour or two studying today. We can even study for the whole night. I don't mind." He said, walking with you to your next class. As with all of your classes, it was one of the two of you shared. It was also one that both of you hated. The lecturer was an annoying and condescending woman who thought that she knew it all about everything simply because she had been teaching the subject for almost a decade now. 

"I would love to study with you for the rest of the day." You said, running over all of the exams and papers that the two of you had next week. It was so much work and you were already planning on studying for the rest of the day and the weekend. With Jondin or not. 

"Ok. If we're going to do that, how about we swipe into the dining hall and just hole out there until we're done studying?" 

"Sounds like a good deal. I am going to have so many waffles tonight." You laughed, thinking back to the time Jungkook and you snuck into the dining hall closest to your dorm and ate a whole tub of ice cream two years ago. It was your freshman year of college and the two of you were acting dumb, but you don't regret it one bit. 

"Earth to Y/n! What were you thinking about?" Jondin laughed, waving his hand in your face to get your attention.

"Oh," You blushed deeply, "Nothing really." 

Jondin cackled this time. He literally cackled. The audacity of this man. 

"Really? I feel like your blush says otherwise! Were you thinking about Jungkook? Your little crush on him getting to your head?" 

At this, you blushed deeply with shame. You didn't like to think about your crush on your best friend so you tried to change the subject, "Shut it! I have no crush! Now if we want to talk about crushes, what are you planning to do with Sana?"

"OMO! I have no idea!" Jondin said with a groan, the two of you earning glances from your other classmates as you entered the classroom. 

"Maybe I can help you brainstorm some tonight." You sighed, sitting down and pulling out some of the supplies you needed.

"Really? I would love your help!" Jondin said, a sigh of relief leaving him as he reorganized some of his supplies.

"That is if we get to a good stopping point for the night." You said, wagging your finger in his face before turning to the professor and trying to focus on what she was trying to teach you. It was a long and boring class as always, the lady's words almost putting you to sleep. Luckily, you managed to stay awake and participate the few times she asked for you to but you would have much preferred to be asleep. You would bet your tuition on her only teaching because she liked how her voice sounded. Jondin often bet his tuition on her teaching for the money. 

After almost an eternity (that was really only an hour and a half), the two of you got out of the class and quietly made your way to the one dining hall that was open 24 hours. At this point, it was almost three in the afternoon and the only students who were some were taking advantage of the fact that the meal swipes were all you can eat. Jondin settled into a booth that had plugs and set to work on studying for your first upcoming exam. Before you knew it, two hours had passed full of mind-numbing studying. Other students had started filling into the dining hall, their noise and chatter leading to you and Jondin sharing a pair of earbuds to drown them out. By that point, the two of you decided to start working on a paper that was due Monday morning. It wasn't an inherently hard essay to write. It was supposed to be a ten-page persuasive essay focused on why a public policy of your choice needed to be changed... and neither of you had started writing it. 

It must have been another two hours later when a small cough interrupted your study session. You looked up slowly, making eye contact with none other than Jungkook who had some unreadable expression on his face. You gently waved at him, a tired smile making its way to your face. Jungkook always managed to put a smile on your face. 

"I-I didn't expect to see you two here together," Jungkook said, Namjoon quickly coming up behind him and smiling towards you too. Namjoon was someone you and Jungkook regularly hung with and you had a soft spot for the gentle giant. 

"Hey Y/n and Jondin! How are you all?" He asked, sliding in next to Jondin. You looked over at Jungkook and slid over to make space for him on your side, the man sitting next to you with a shy smile. 

"I am so tired. We have been working so hard." Jondin said dramatically, widening his eyes and gently closing his laptop.

You laughed at him, his dramatics almost always too much for you, "Awww. Poor baby Jondin. How will you ever live with so much work being done? And we haven't even talked about you know what yet!"

"Yeah! I told you that in confidence!" He almost yelled pointing at you in mock anger while blushing. 

"Technically you told it to me outside." 

"What do you two need to talk about?" Jungkook asked, leaning closer to you as he spoke.

"Y/n! Don't tell."

"It's nothing to worry about. Jondin is just being his beautiful self and requiring a whole weekend to prepare for... a get-together." You said with a laugh, smiling as Jondin blushed further. 

"It isn't anything important! We just have at least another two or so hours of work left to do. Now shoo! I don't want Y/n distracted by her boyfriend." Jondin said, a sly smile on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you and Jungkook.

You sighed and muttered a small goodbye to Namjoon and Jungkook, not even willing to look either of them in the eye as they left.

"That  was not cool, Jondin! I don't like it when you do stuff like that. Jungkook doesn't like me back. We are not dating. Drop it or I will happily retire to my room for the rest of the night instead of helping you." You said with a stern face. Jondin dropped his antics after that. 

In the end, you found yourself holed up in your room the entire weekend working on homework for classes. You bounced from working on your bed to your desk to the floor. It wasn't fun at all but the work you were doing was going to make your whole week so much better. 

What you didn't expect was a knock on your door at midnight on Sunday. You had just submitted your essay and were doing a small celebratory shimmy when you heard a loud knock at your door. It sounded almost frantic. You took a deep breath and looked through the peephole, glad your dorm room door had one. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion when you saw Jungkook standing in front of your door, his hair disheveled and eyes were almost wirey as they looked at the door. Why was he here so late at night? Why did he look so... worried about something?

As soon as you opened the door, Jungkook burst in and started speaking, "Listen, I am sorry that I am here so late at night but I have to get this off my chest. I think I like you romantically," He was pacing around the room now, hands running through his hair, "I... I always felt some sort of way for you but I thought that I could easily ignore it and it would go away. It was kind of working and then I saw you sitting with Jondin Friday. I didn't even know you knew him. When did you even start talking to him? And then I saw you two talking and having fun together and... then he called me your boyfriend and then I really felt this strong need to actually be with you that way. Then I talked to Namjoon and he said that I could confess and I planned to do it yesterday at breakfast but you didn't show and I got worried and-"

You struggled to interrupt Jungkook not only because he was speaking so quickly but also because your own mind was running a mile a minute, "Jungkook! You like me romantically?" You asked, slowly walking towards where he was now standing shell shocked as if he didn't mean to say that.

"Well.. yes but you don-"

You interrupted him again, bringing his face to yours and kissing him. After only a few seconds, you pulled back, Jungkook winning as you moved away from kissing range, a large pout on his face, "I like you too, pabo. I just never said anything because I was worried about it ruining our friendship. Now stop staring at me like a lost puppy."

"Make me," Jungkook said with a smirk as he pulled you in for another kiss. When the two of you separated he started talking again, "I understand your worry about not wanting to ruin our friendship but I am already addicted to you and am very willing to ruin our friendship if it means I get to kiss you like this." He said, moving in to kiss your nose, "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Only if you take me out on a date first." You said with a small giggle, your stomach full of butterflies as Jungkook kissed your lips again. He smiled into the kiss and you felt giddiness flood your system. 

"You. Me. The local dinner that is open 24 hours and a round of milkshakes. Now." Jungkook said in between covering your face in kisses. 

"That sounds perfect." You said, grabbing a coat and your wallet before leaving with Jungkook next to you. 

[jordswriteswords]

Clextober19: Fall Festivities

Back to school was the favourite time of year for most. Parents were overjoyed that their children would be supervised while they were working; children were overjoyed the see their friends again; teachers were overjoyed to… well, they were overjoyed for the weekends.

Madi, on the other hand, hated back to school. Being a half witch meant she had half the human antibodies, and half the witch antibodies, therefore, she was in for a whole dose of unrelenting colds during the first two months. She would get sick at least twice in that short amount of time, causing her to miss a lot of school and a lot of the time that children spent making and solidifying their friendships.

But, she couldn't go to school. Not when her nose was stuffy and running and she was sniffling and sneezing and turning her mother into an elephant, blowing her Aunt Raven up like fireworks, and sending her mama into the desert and back again in a wiggle of her nose.

But Ms. Indra insisted that she be present for the first field trip of the year. The kids were going to the apple farm, after all, and Lexa had volunteered as the class chaperone.

In hindsight, Madi should have known that her class would have been more interested in Lexa and her superstar status than the actual field trip. Even as the ten year old curled up in her mama’s shoulder, she was still having to deal with boys and girls interrupting to get a picture with her mama or ask for her autograph.

Madi sucked down the hot tea that her mama had packed in her travel mug, a blend of echinacea and magical herbs to fight off both sides of the cold virus. It relieved the aches and pains, and most importantly, stopped the sniffles for the time being.

The class wandered through the apple farm for a majority of the day, getting lost in corn mazes, learning how to bale hay for the animals, petting tiny lambs in the petting zoo, and drinking warm cups of apple cider and eating apple pie.

Madi had made it throughout most of the day without mishap aside from sneezing and blowing her mom across the corn field. Lexa snapped her fingers and fixed the holes that were created before anyone had noticed, though.

The last part of the trip was the horse rides around the farm. Each child in the class took a turn on one of the ten horses for a tour of the entire farm.

Madi brushed her hand along the nose of a chocolate pony. “Hey. Your name is Ryder. It’s cute.”

The horse stomped it's foot in the mud and shook it's head up and down. “I think my handler was a punny guy.”

Madi chuckled. “That’s actually funny.”

The horse took a step back. “No way you can understand me.”

Madi smiled up at the big nose, lifting her hands in deference like her mama had taught her to approach animals. “Duh. You speak English. You just have a weird accent.”

The horse neighed, catching Lexa’s attention. and she took a quick picture of her daughter smiling up at the giant and sent it off to her wife.

Ryder bowed his head and said, “Well I’ll be, aren't you just a smart lil cookie. Hey Cleatus! Lookie o’er here! We got us our own Dr. Doohickey!”

“Dr. Doolittle,” Madi corrected, and Ryder huffed at her.

A black stallion galloped over towards them and sniffed Madi’s neck. “She smells like apples. I love apples!”

She giggled at the contact, and pulled an apple out of her pocket, holding it out for Cleatus.

“You can hear us?” Cleatus asked.

Madi nodded and giggled more when he stepped right into her space, his giant eyeball looking into hers.

A white mare saddled up to Madi shortly after, nudging her bum with her nose.

“Ponyelope,” Ryder scolded. “She’s a good one.”

They were interrupted by the sounds of her classmate yelling. “Look at this weirdo!” Josephine Lightborne pointed at Madi, who was surrounded by horses. “She can’t make real friends so she hangs out with animals!”

Madi’s classmates pointed and laughed, and Lexa had to squeeze her hands together to stop them from snapping and giving all the ten year olds wedgies. But, if Josephine ended up stepping in a suddenly appearing cow-pie, Lexa was none the wiser.

“Don’t mind them, darlin’” Ryder consoled. “Let’s just go on a good ol’ fashioned ride. That’ll cheer ya’up, I promise,” he neighed.

Madi sighed, but smiled when Ryder rubbed his nose against her cheek. Ryder took off at a slow cadence once Madi climbed aboard, describing all the parts of the farm to her. He wandered as far away from the rest of the group as he could without drawing suspicion to point out the magical flowers in the fields and the magical animals that could only be seen by those with abilities.

The path wound around and through the pumpkin fields, and Madi tensed. "I'm allergic to pumpkins!" She hissed to the horse.

Ryder slowed his trot, but the cowboy handler that was leading the group circled around and forced him to carry on.

Her nose tickled, and she looked over to Lexa with fear in her eyes. She clutched at Ryder’s fur, and her heels dug into his sides.

"I'm trying, I'm trying," Ryder said, trying to console his rider. He tried to move faster, but his handler wasn't letting him, tired of his antics.

Madi sneezed and all hell broke loose.

She had turned the pumpkin patch into a giant, living creatures that scared Josephine's horse into bucking with her still on. She fell off the back of the horse and straight into the mud with a scream.

The rest of the horses followed suit, kicking and bucking their riders off so they could free themselves.

"Whoa, whoa!" The handlers tried, but the terrified animals wouldn't heed. The animals kicked and whined, and started to run off.

"What did I do?" Madi questioned, her voice shaky with sadness.

Ryder didn’t buck his rider off; however. He took off with Madi on his back, straight to the rest of the now free horses. All the horses had run about a hundred yards from the scare and we're circling the ground, huffing angrily.

"What was that?"

"I'll kill it!"

"I hate pumpkins!"

"Fight back!"

Madi jumped off the horse and approached the pack with her hands up. "Whoa, whoa," The horses were frazzled and frightened. "I know you're all scared. It's okay, it's my fault."

"Kill the girl!" One horse yelled, neighing and rearing back on its hind legs. Ryder moved in front of her. "Calm down, Otis, she's just a girl!"

"It was an accident!" Madi pleaded. "It was an accident. I can't control my powers."

"She scared us!"

"But we're fine!" Ryder said.

"Let's just all calm down," Madi said. "I'm sorry I scared you. I won't let it happen again."

The horses huffed and sneezed, but Madi wouldn’t move from the middle of the pack.

"Madi, no!" Her teacher called.

"Wait, wait," Lexa said, grabbing the teacher and stopping them from interfering. “They’re calming down.”

“Please, just come back to your owners. I promise, no more magic. No more pumpkins.”

Ponyelope looked around, her ears twitching with nerves.

“Please,” Madi breathed.

Ponyelope took one step, then two, then moved right past Madi and headed towards the handlers. The rest of the horses followed, and Ryder pressed his big head into Madi’s chest. She laughed and hugged his nose.

The class looked on as Madi corralled the horses and got them to follow her back to the handlers.

"How did you do that?" Aden asked when she got back.

Madi just shrugged.

"It's because - it's because she's a weirdo!" Josephine said, covered from head to toe in mud. "She doesn't have any friends so she talks to animals, and even they don't listen to her!"

A few of her classmates laughed at Madi, whose cheeks became warm with embarrassment. She ran back to the bus, and Lexa trailed after her.

"Hey, shut up!" Aden Forrest, they typically shy and well mannered boy, yelled. "She saved your life, Josephine! She saved all of us from getting really hurt!"

***

"Mads?" Lexa asked, slowly sitting next to her daughter on the large seat of the deserted bus.

The only sound was a sniffle, and then Lexa felt the soft flutter of snowflakes cascading onto her head.

"I hate this," Madi whispered. "I hate having magic! I hate being human! I hate that I'm just a weird half-thing!" The sound of her voice grew louder until she shouted at her mama. She turned and punched the seat in front of them as tears poured from her eyes.

"I'm sorry you feel that way Madi," Lexa said, dusting the snow off her shoulder and then wrapping her daughter in a warm hug.

Madi sniffed again as the tears fell and Lexa was pelted with sand and dirt.

Lexa snapped and created an umbrella to hover above her and her daughter to stop the onslaught.

"You have so many special gifts, Madi, but the best one is that you're kind. Don't let someone like Josephine take that away from you. What you did today made me more proud than you learning your first spell. You're a great person, and kids are just dumb. It'll get better, I promise. If you want to be sad right now, or if you can't help it, that's okay. I'm right here. But, never hate who you are. You’re the best parts of me and the best parts of your mom. You’re an incredible kid, Madi."

Madi leaned into her mama and hugged her tightly around her neck. "I love you, mama."

"Love you too, Mads."

Aden was the first student to enter the bus since the incident, and his heavy, awkward footsteps sounded until he was standing directly in front of Madi and Lexa’s seat. "Hey, sorry, Hi, Mrs. Griffin-Woods. I'm sorry to interrupt, but uhh," Aden said, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. He had a piece of paper in his hand that he folded and unfolded methodically.

Madi hid her face in Lexa's collar, and it took everything inside of the brunette not to snap at the boy. "Yes, Aden?" She asked, already pulling her pen out of her pocket to sign his paper.

"Sorry, um, thank you for offering, but I don’t want your autograph.” He ran his hand through his shaggy blonde hair, “but can you give this to Madi for me? I just want her to know that she's the coolest person ever and say thank you for saving us." His earnest blue eyes pleaded with Lexa and he thrust the paper into her face. She gracefully retrieved it from his fingers and opened it only after he scurried away and off the bus.

Lexa’s heart melted at what she saw.

Aden had written a big 'thank you' on the cover of the card. Inside, all the students in the class signed the left side of the page. On the right side, he had drawn a picture of Madi with a cape and a horse. And on the back, he scrawled, 'Madi, thank you for saving us. You're a superhero. Can I sit with you at lunch tomorrow? - your friend, Aden'

[mobius-prime]

199. Sonic the Hedgehog #131

Deep breaths, guys. I know what the cover page says. I know. We'll get to that. Just hang in there. I think you might like what I have in store.

Home (Part 2 of 4): The Gathering

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jason Jensen

So not much actually happens in this installment of Home other than the various characters talking to each other about and preparing for the upcoming battle. Since Sonic has been gone, a new Freedom Fighter Special has been constructed that can cut travel time dramatically around the globe. A journey that in the Tornado or on foot (in Sonic's case) would have taken up to two hours can be completed in a mere half hour now, thanks to Rotor's engineering prowess. And thus, Sonic and Tails head out to Old Megaopolis to stop Eggman's twin nukes from launching, along with an… interesting backup team, to say the least.

Man, remember Fiona? It's been ages since we've seen her! It appears that while Sonic was in space, she joined up with the crew in Knothole and has been helping them fight Eggman. That's definitely a better life for her than to be running with the likes of Nic the Weasel, eh? Meanwhile, Knuckles, Julie-Su, Amy Rose, and the other two (active) members of the Chaotix head to Fort Acorn, where General D'Coolette is giving a speech to the soldiers under his command. We've never even heard of this fort before, but according to the general it's been here for ten years, keeping a forward watch on Robotropolis, and this watch has been maintained even after Robotropolis' destruction in case of just such a situation as the current one. With their reinforcements from Knothole, the crew at the fort prepare to defend the city against a massive swatbot assault to lower the forcefield keeping the radiation in check. Back in Knothole, extra measures are being taken to make absolutely sure that even if the worst happens, the citizenry will be safe.

Station Square, for their part, has sent a squad of GUN commandos to help in the battle at Old Megaopolis. The commander of the military is baffled by this decision, wanting to send in their full fighting force, but the president instead opts to trust his allies from Knothole - though just for insurance, he's sent one of his own operatives along for the ride…

Now that's what I like to see! It's about time Rouge got herself some proper screentime. As all this is going on, Eggman waits aboard a docked battleship in the harbor of Old Megaopolis with his assistant M, and orders A.D.A.M. to begin the missile countdown. However, almost immediately, the sound of a biplane puts them on high alert, and Eggman is shocked to see Sonic and Tails bearing down on his location, not having expected them to be able to get here nearly so fast. See, Eggman, this is why you resist the siren call of your ego and keep your damn plans to yourself. All you did was give your enemies ample warning to prepare to foil your evil plot, you idiot!

Mobius 25 Years Later: Prologue

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jensen

Okay, guys. This is it. We've reached the most Penders thing of all time. This is something that has been hinted at here and there from all the way back in the Sonic In Your Face special to now, and we're finally seeing the culmination of all of that buildup. All the intricate worldbuilding, all the complex character arcs, all the intrigue and political spider webs and back to back wars and everything that the world of Mobius has been through up until now - there's so much to explore, so many directions it could have gone. We're about to see what this world might look like twenty-five years into the future, and with so much rich history to draw from, what might you imagine this story might look like? What genre might it fall into? Well wonder no longer!

It's a drama. It's a teen drama.

There's a reason that Mobius 25 Years Later is widely considered to be one of the worst parts of the comic. The tone of it is just so far off anything else we've experienced so far that it clashes horribly with what we've come to expect. It's not some masterful subversion of expectations or something - in a lot of ways I consider it to be a genuine insult to the rest of the preboot's material up to this point. It's painfully and immediately clear that this is a story Penders has wanted to tell for a while, but, not being able to fit his "middle-aged adults adulting everywhere and being so adult-like while ignoring the feelings and difficulties that ordinary teenagers face" plot anywhere into the rest of the comic, he's opted to just fire the world a couple decades into the future, pair all the major characters off into weird and oftentimes arbitrary heterosexual marriages, give everyone 2.5 children and a titanium picket fence, and then throw in some allusions to the old "war against Doc 'Botnik" here and there lest we forget, entirely understandably at this point, that we're reading a Sonic the Hedgehog comic here. This thing goes on for nineteen whole issues, taking up each subsequent issue's backup story, and ultimately has no real impact on the actual story involving the characters we already know and love. However, this is technically canon, or at least a version of canon (as when you play with alternate realities and multiple timelines, futures are bound to get mixed up here and there), so we're gonna be covering it - all of it. I wouldn't be tempted to skip it anyway, as by delving into each chapter in this trainwreck, we can actually explore why this whole thing fails so hard, and why it's therefore so loathed in the fandom. Plus, I do recognize that some people actually do enjoy this arc for various reasons (one of my close friends does, and has a whole AU of her own relating to it in fact), so I do plan to at least try to be fair in my review - but I really can't hide that I find this whole affair boring as hell, often downright offensive, and ultimately completely out of place. With all that in mind, let's dive in!

We begin with a full page of exposition delivered to us via high school lecture, because everyone knows the best way to establish your worldbuilding is by infodumping it directly into your audience's eyeballs. Apparently, over the last twenty years, Angel Island has been heavily developed into its own independent republic, with a new city, Portal, acting as the center of trade between the island and the mainland below. We're once again introduced to Lara-Su, who, instead of being the badass time-traveling young adult whom we followed before, is now an ordinary teenager taking ordinary high school classes among a bunch of ordinary high school echidnas.

One of the biggest failings of this story is that Penders writes every teenage character how he thinks teenagers act, from his point of view as a middle-aged adult. This becomes abundantly clear the longer you read, as every teenager is a hormone-fueled, authority-defying, entitled, whiny, fickle child who just doesn't understand how the real world works, while every adult is a wise, experienced, and highly logical individual who always knows more than their younger fellows and refuses to pay attention to the whims of mere children. Like, I'm not even exaggerating here - I'm going to be pointing out every instance of this kind of behavior over the entire rest of this arc, and you can't stop me, so nyah nyah. Penders shows so little respect for the mere concept of teenagers, which is a terrible attitude to have not just in general, but especially if you're one of the head writers for an entire series about teenagers saving the goddamn world! Anyway, case in point: the teacher, instead of admonishing Rutan for being a bully, merely snaps at Lara-Su for not acting enough like a "young lady" and tells her to stay after class. Ugh.

Later that day, Rotor arrives on Angel Island as a liaison for the royal ruling couple, Queen Sally and King Sonic, because yes, Sonic literally becomes king in this timeline. He catches a ride from Harry - hey, good to see our favorite dingo still doing well for himself at least - and meets with Espio, who is now apparently Knuckles' secretary or something. At least, that's all I can assume from this weird-ass conversation.

As a matter of fact, yes, Sonic and Sally are bringing their two children, Sonia and Manik, to the family dinner! How very mid-70s domestic family unit of them! Espio informs Knuckles of this over a television screen as the latter broods around in some kind of high-tech facility. Unlike what we've seen of Espio, the years have dramatically changed Knuckles' appearance - his right eye is missing, replaced with a mechanical one, and he sports the cowboy hat that Hawking gave him in the past (you know, the one we never saw again after he received it). While I actually quite like the idea of a main character in the comic losing something as important as an eye, I feel like there's a huge missed opportunity here - instead of just thrusting us into an alternate future where everything is fine but one character is inexplicably missing an eye, how about actually showing us the story of how that eye was lost? Show us a Knuckles who's learning to cope with the loss of an important body part, and having to adjust to his mechanical prosthetic! Go into his feelings about the subject, as someone who has so long been opposed to a faction that thrives on mechanical prosthetics, instead of just skipping over what has the potential to be the most interesting part of this story! Ugh, sorry, there's just nothing that gets to me more than a missed opportunity like this. Knuckles and Espio exchange some tortured small-talk about their kids for a little while, with the only interesting part of the conversation being their discussion of Rotor's arrival and how he's likely here to see someone named Cobar, with whom he apparently has a history. More on that later. Knuckles excuses himself from the conversation, as he has to be home in time for his daughter's "Unveiling" tonight, and as the call ends we zoom out to see that apparently nowadays, the Master Emerald is hooked up to all sorts of technology in this facility, presumably maintaining everything automatically. However, this story isn't done throwing weird curveballs at us yet - it's time to see what our former villains are up to in this future!

There is so much to unpack here. Dimitri, feared overlord of the Dark Legion, is now an amiable cyborg-head-in-a-bubble. Lien-Da, the treacherous second-in-command who regularly spoke of betraying Dimitri and taking the Legion in her own darker direction, is now apparently a single mom who's embraced the domestic life, taking care of her rowdy teenage son while, predictably, complaining about the behavior of kids these days. And weirdest of all, apparently everyone is just fine with these literal former terrorists living in their midst and doing ordinary mom and grandpa things, with Lien-Da even apparently amenable to the idea of trying to make up with Julie-Su because "they're family," despite her history of, you know, erasing Julie-Su's memory multiple times and killing her biological parents as revenge for her birth. I mean, is this what Penders thinks adulthood is? Is he even entirely sane? Does he know the definition of terrorism?

Any-goddamn-way, Knuckles arrives home to his eerily sterile-looking steel-plated mansion that looks more like the lobby of a pharmaceutical laboratory than a place where people live, and greets his loving housewife Julie-Su, who's gained a cute giant ponytail but lost absolutely everything else that made her unique, including her own cybernetic parts and just her personality in general. She informs Knuckles that Lara-Su has locked herself in the bathroom and is having herself a mighty tantrum, refusing to come out to get ready for her Unveiling ceremony, which is apparently the equivalent of a Quinceañera for echidna girls. Knuckles, instead of doing something reasonable like asking her why she's upset, starts aggressively demanding that she come out of her room this instant, while Lara-Su repeatedly yells about how she doesn't wanna. Ugh, teenagers, amiright?

Seriously, I just can't get over how little respect Penders has for teenagers in his writing. Like, yes, I acknowledge that teenagers aren't always the most logical of beings, but they're also not goddamn three-year-olds either. They're old enough to articulate their desires and express their unique opinions, and often do so in very mature ways, especially if they're raised well and treated with the same respect you'd afford any adult. I should know, I was one myself. I would have assumed Penders was one as well at some point, but perhaps he just popped into the world one day as a fully-formed 43-year-old, full of disdain for those younger than himself. It would certainly explain everything we're seeing here.

Anyway, it turns out that the reason Lara-Su is upset is because Knuckles refuses to train her to be a Guardian, and so she whines and yells about it from behind the door like a petulant child as Knuckles continually refuses to actually give her a solid reason why he won't let her be one. When Julie-Su basically forces him to calm the hell down and explain himself, he reluctantly explains that since all the duties of a Guardian have by now been taken over by other functions of their society, he feels there's no longer any need for one, himself included. This is apparently enough to make Lara-Su immediately happy enough to burst out of the bathroom and grab her father's arm, suddenly totally excited to go to her Unveiling as long as Knuckles promises her the first dance. Ah, the fickle mind of a silly, silly teenager!

Kill me.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

questionable government spies: chapter 13

AYYYY WE RETURN WITH ANOTHER INSTALLMENT OF EVERYONES FAVORITE AUUUUUU

also I wrote this in research class, global issues, and while watching a cowboy movie so sorry if its not The Best

MASTERLIST

_________

ship: eventual sprace, platonic ralbertttt

warnings: mentioned prostitiution or porn or something but its really just a joke kids, Tense Talk, really long words that may or may not be in English, mentioned bad family relations but nothing explicit

editing: nope none at all

words: like maybe 2k

_________

“Okay, say it again but slower this time,” Race said as Spot unlocked the backdoor and ushered them up the stairwell. It was just the two of them, but two blocks away Albert and Jack sat in the van, ready to come at a moments notice.

“The head responded to our email,” Spot said rather unhelpfully. Race was about to press for more information when Spot cut him off. “I didn't read it, I came right to get you guys. I didn't want to, like, set off an alarm or something. I don't understand how tech stuff works.”

Race smirked at his innocence. Spot had much to learn.

“Luckily for you ‘tech stuff’ is basically my job description, so I’ll make sure you don't get blown up or something.” Jack’s voice in his ear reminded Race that as much as he would like to be, he and Spot were not alone right now. He had to be careful.

“Your job description is actually ‘agent in training.’ Race and I just make you do the tech stuff cause we suck at it.”

“I do not suck at it!” Race piped up, feeling the need to defend his honor. “You're the one who got us banned from Uganda because you accidentally sent that email to the wrong person and then on top of it included that attachment with the picture of-”

“Alright I’m gonna stop you there,” Jack interrupted. “I do not need to hear about the porn Albert has on his computer thank you very much.”

“IT WASN'T PORN!” Albert screamed so loud that both Race and Spot winced. “I swear to god you guys are going to get me arrested, all I did was send the wrong spreadsheet!”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Jack mumbled and Race couldn't help but smile.

“And to think,” Spot mumbled. “These are the people who are protecting our country.”

“At least we’re good looking,” Race winked, earning a laugh from both Jack and Albert.

“You do have that going for you yeah,” Spot said casually.

Race stopped dead in his tracks. Did Spot really mean that? Had all of his snow jokes actually paid off? Race could hardly believe it. But, maybe he was just saying that? There was no way of Race knowing, and unluckily for him before he could ask Spot what he had meant they were turning the corner toward Oscar’s office and smack into-

“Checks!” Spot exclaimed, clearly caught off guard. “I was just- we were just… you know, walking to, uh, I was just showing Philip here, the uh, um…”

Albert sighed loudly in Race’s comms. “Dear god, please shut him up.”

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Race said, rolling his eyes for extra emphasis. “Spot was just showing me how to give someone a concussion using a shoelace and a rubber band and I think he might have taught me a little too well, if you're picking up what I’m putting down here.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind but okay that works.”

“Yeah Spot’s one of our top fighters,” Checks said, immediately warming more up to the the story now that Spot wasn't the one who was talking. “But he’s not the best teacher so I’m not surprised that his tactics backfired.”

“Yeah,” Race laughed. Spot, to his credit, managed to look dazed and confused.

“Oh and boys,” Checks said over her shoulder. “You didn't hear this from me, but I may have heard from Oscar that we’re getting assigned another mission tomorrow, so be sure to arrive on time.”

“We will!” Race called as Checks flounced down the hallway away from them.

“I don't like her very much,” Jack said, but his comment was overpowered by Spot.

“REALLY?” He whisper shouted, shoving Race into the wall. “I would never  get a concussion! My heads too thick!”

“Well that's for sure,” Race snickered and Spot glared at him, putting his hands on either side of his shoulders.

Spot continued to glare at Race, unmoving from his slightly seductive position.

“So, pretty boy,” Race ventured. “You plan on moving? Or are we gonna canoodle here all day? Cause I’m down with either, but I wouldn’t object to a little good old-fashioned canoodling…”

Thankfully, Albert and Spot had the sense to stay silent for once.

“You better watch it Phillip,” Spot spat. And then, as if realizing how close they were, slowly backed away.

They walked down the hall in silence for a few hundred feet, the awkward tension hovering thickly in the air making Race’s heart beat in excitement, until they reached Oscar’s office.

“Alright so he’s out at a manager meeting or something,” Spot said, “but I still think Vincent and Bow should check the cameras and stuff just in case.”

“On it,” Jack mumbled through the line. Then, a few minutes later, “all clear.”

Spot and Race entered the room and Spot sat down in front of the computer, opening the email in question after getting the all clear from Jack.

Race leaned over Spot’s shoulder, enjoying the scent of his cologne as he read the email out loud for Jack and Albert to hear.

“00171,

Bemuzzles chemosynthesis x1 conversationalists fizzy jazzily a deconstructionists fuzz parasympathomimetic x2 hypercholesterolemia bioluminescence x3 thyroparathyroidectomized unprepossessing antiauthoritarianisms comprehensibleness x4 whizzbang paleontologist ultraconservative buckminsterfullerenes chazzanim chlorofluorocarbon psychophysicotherapeutics xy5 schnozzle x6 i acetylcholine x7 anthropomorphous razzmatazzes a chemosynthesis antidepressant zigzagged characteristic jejunum x8 buckminsterfullerene discombobulated x9 plasmodesmata jujus zanza oophorosalpingectomy x10 clinicopathologically alphanumerically x11 carboxymethylcelluloses frizzling counterdemonstration zyzzyvas x12 i quinquennium crackerjacks x-”

“Did you just say crackerjacks?” Albert interrupted, much to Race’s relief because his tongue was getting twisted from all the big, fancy, probably-not-english words.

“Yeah I think so?” Race squinted at the screen. “I’m not really sure what I’m reading at this point.”

“I want some crackerjacks.” Albert said unhelpfully. “They slap.”

“I once cracked my tooth on a crackerjack,” Spot added as he printed out the email.

“My older brother proposed to his girlfriend by putting a ring in a box of crackerjacks,” Race said without thinking before quickly shutting his mouth and shaking off the memory. Spot noticed and gave him a suspicious glance, but said nothing, which Race was thankful for.

“You know, that's great and all, but I would really appreciate it if you guys printed that email and came back to the van so that I can start solving that code cause it sounds like its gonna take a hot minute.”

“Hold your horses ear boy,” Race said, grabbing the email off of the printer with a flourish. “We’ll be there in two wags of a ferrets tail.”

•••

“I’m pretty sure that that was longer than two wags of a ferrets tail,” Jack exclaimed, throwing down the poker cards he was holding, Albert following suit, albeit begrudgingly.

“How would you know how fast a ferret can wag its tail hmmmmm?” Race said, fanning himself with the printed email. “Does your uncle own a ferret farm like mine does?”

“You have an uncle?” Jack asked, reaching for the paper as Race held it above his head out of Jack’s reach.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Race asked, whacking Jack on the head lightly with the papers, but giving them to him all the same. Jack stalked off toward his work station and began mumbling to himself about code. Meanwhile, Race sat down and picked up Jack’s forgotten cards. “I can’t believe you started a game of poker without me!” he exclaimed.

“We didn't,” Albert said, flicking a card at Race. “Those are Uno cards you dumbass.”

Race flicked over his cards in disbelief, opening his mouth to say something but he was cut off by Spot.

“So,” Spot was saying, sitting down on the floor of the van slowly. “Do you, like, live here?”

“Who, me?” Albert asked.

“Yes you.”

“Why are you asking?” Albert crossed his arms.

“You just seem like the kind of guy who would live in a van.”

“What’s it to you?”

“You have weird energy. I don't like it.”

“‘Weird energy’?”

“Yeah,” Spot’s eyes narrowed. “You're hiding something.”

Race’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two men. Obviously, Spot was prone to not trusting people because of his line of work, and Albert did have a lot of secrets, but Race had always trusted him. He had never had any reason not to. Unless- no, he had just met Spot. He wasn't letting him trick him into not trusting his best friend.

“We all hide things,” Albert said matter of factly, but Race could tell from the slight tremor in his hand that he was nervous.

“Of course we do,” Spot said, looking down at the floor, his eyes unmoving from the space between his feet as he sat in silence.

Race, unsure of what to do chose this opportunity to whistle very loudly and very very offkey until Albert shot him a look. Then he began obsessively shuffling the cards again and again.

Finally, Jack let out a yell of excitement. “I GOT IT!”

“That was fast,” Race said, moving over to make room for Jack. “What does the email say?”

“Aaaaahemmmm,” Jack dramatically cleared his throat. “0071,

In regards to your inquiry, I am planning to meet up with all of my heads on the 14th of december. Location is yet to be determined. I have some new information relating to our upcoming changes that will be revealed at this time. More details to come.

6197”

“Well then,” Spot said, suddenly materializing over Race’s shoulder. “Guess we gotta mark our calendars.”

“Indeed we do,” Albert said, standing up. “In the meantime though, the three of us will look more into this, and you can keep us updated on any weird happenstances with the gang. But for now, your services are no longer needed.” He tipped his snapback toward Spot in mock gratitude. “Good day.”

Spot winked at Race and nodded to Jack before opening the van door and climbing out wordlessly.

“‘Good day’?” Race snickered as he and Albert climbed into the front seats. “What are you, Australian?”

“Well, Australia doesn’t exist and neither do I so…”

“That's true!” Jack shouted, moving to the back to secure his belongings.

Albert took the opportunity to whisper something to Race. “You mentioned your family twice today, is everything alright?”

Race winced, he had known this was coming. “Yeah yeah everything’s fine. I just don't like being back here with them so close ya know? It’s screwing with my head a little.”

Albert seemed to accept this answer because he did not ask any more questions.

“What about you?” Race asked. “What was that with Spot?”

“I don't know,” Albert admitted. “That was weird.”

“Yeah,” Race looked down at his lap, almost afraid to ask the next question. “So, what do we do about him?”

“Continue as planned, I guess,” Albert sighed. “We just gotta be really careful. I don't want anything to happen to you.” He placed his hand on Race’s knee as he pulled out of the parking lot and Race covered it with his, a silent promise that he intended to stay safe.

After all, it was them against the world, and not even a dumb, although very hot looking, gang member would come between them.

_________

YEETTTT

this is actually a decent one, lotsa Important Stuff 

were finally getting to the plot!!

also yes there was an actual code I made and if any of you can figure it out you'll get the Snerkle Award Of Honor

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

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[ohgoddard]

What’s Faster? My Heart or Light Speed? Chapter 2

Space is the truest representation of space between atoms, the astounding nothing that exists is truly mindboggling. While billions of miles away I can see the shimmering lights of stars and the swirling masses of gas clouds and galaxies, I still find myself surrounded by nothing. An apt representation indeed.

Except I’m not truly alone. Mere days ago I was expecting my slow and uneventful death to occur, where I was then saved by the( and I sound like a school girl when I say this) illustrious Dr.O’Reilly, who has yet to tell me her first name. She and I spend a lot of time together right now, being the only ones awake on the ship. But, its mostly been my laying down on a bed due to my not eating and dehydration affecting my abilities to move. But that hasn’t stopped me from struggling around the ship when she’s not around (doing literally God knows what, there is no one else on this ship).

The ship seems to be made for so much more life, and I guess that makes sense. It would serve as our base when we got to the new planet. The good Doctor has a room to herself on this ship, one reserved for the Captain. She told me that he wouldn’t be using it for a few hundred more years, so he wouldn’t mind.

A few hundred more years. That is how much time was left in this little expedition we were on. I wouldn’t even eclipse one of those hundred years, let alone the other five or six. I tried to ask the Doctor about what we’re going to do for the rest of our lives here, but she just kinda smiled and said “Don’t you worry, i’ll think of something.” And let me tell you, right there no solar flare could match the level of heat that rose in my face when she gave me that smile. Could she have been flirting with me there? That little smile? Usually I talk to someone about this kind of stuff, but...no one appears to be here.

In a way I could say i’m trapped again, but this time its far worse. No, it is truly the worst. I am trapped by myself this time. Not in the “I am trapped and alone”, no no. Me myself is trapping me. Which sounds really dumb but i’m panicking ok?! What am I supposed to do when a VERY beautiful woman looks my way and gives me a sly smirk and potentially flirtatious sentence? I need to clear my head.

I,very slowly, throw the covers off of me and  (once again) very slowly move myself onto the crutches I've been provided. My ‘”room” was no more than a bed and dresser. A small TV screen hung over me, having the entirety of Earth’s media lexicon (how they got those companies to agree to put everything together a feat more impressive than space travel). Other than that, barren. I hobble over to my dresser to change out, and I sigh as I pull out an almost identical colorless white and blue streaked suit to the one I wore in my “coffin”.

It was a struggle to get on, what with the pain and general reluctance to leave my room at all. A trait I carried on from my childhood I guess. Eventually I do get everything on and I hobble outside my room to the communal area that was intended for far more people than who is currently using it. I.e. Me. And, surprisingly today, Dr. O’Reilly.  If one could stumble awkwardly in crutches as I could, then I would like to see them. It was like a new born deer. The doctor today was dressed in a yellow sweater, her usual lab coat,and Jack Skellington pajama pants. Her fluffy bunny slippers were as red as her hair, and i’m thinking my face as well. Her freckles mirrored the stars outside, her eyes like two planets obscuring them. I could get lost staring at her, and I would’ve had she not looked up from the book she was reading and cocked her head at me, her glasses slipping down her nose as she did so.

Now, I was never good around those I had a crush on. I act pretty much that same every time. This lead to my perpetual singularity. It comes in stages, whenever I talk to someone I’m interested in.

“G-good morning Doctor! Y-you’re here , why’re you here?”

First I stutter and try and be casual, which never happens.

She smirks (AHHHHH) and gets up from the lounge chair she was sitting in. “Ms. Derringer, are you having a cold? Your face is heating up and you’re shaking quite a bit.” Yeah there’s the second part, the shaking.”Now, this absolutely cannot go on. Go back in your room and I will take care of you.”

“W-wait im fine really. I-i’m not sick!” “I will not take no for an answer on this one, I am the doctor after all!” . She physically picks me up and turns me around. Which, left me in quite a bit of shock on a number of things. 1. The doctor was WAY stronger than I originally thought.I guess when you’re alone a ship what’re you to do? 2. I didn’t know I’d lost that much weight, but pretty happy I cut that down a bit not gonna lie. 3. AHHHHH THE DOCTOR TOUCHED ME, WHAT .

“Come on now, lets get back to bed. I’ll be right back.” She guided me back to my bed and laid me back down. She placed her hand on my head after wrapping me up. “Wow, you’re burning up! I think I was right on the money. I will be right back with something to help with this.” She was so close to me. I could smell the vanilla perfume she used. I think this is a kind of torture in countries, to be this socially awkward around someone who you absolutely cannot stop thinking about. Except its worse for me, because she is literally the only other person on this ship and I can’t help but think of her. Her being drop dead gorgeous is NOT helping me either.

A few minutes pass, me lying in my bed slowly dying of embarrassment. The door opens once again and the doctor is is back. And she is carrying a small tray. On it is a bowl and a water bottle. “ We’re going to give you the good old-fashioned medicine. Rest, soup, and hydration. And, company! I don’t believe you’ll get me sick, so i’ll spend some time with you today!” She closes her eyes and gives a huge smile. I’m reminded of my 8th grade literature class, saying that starting a war over one girl because of something as dumb as beauty. 

I wish I could eat my own words.

I was never much to be attracted to anyone, mostly because they never were back. However, now I find myself absolutely head over heels. A million reasons race in my head. Could it be because she saved my life and im just really thankful? Is it because she is the only one on the ship and we’d just naturally gravitate towards each other? Or do I truly feel these feelings for her.

“Oh! Let me bring in a chair so I can sit with you. And put on something cool! Like Firefly.” 

“What’s Firefly?” I ask. She stops in the doorway and turns around with an incredulous look on her face. “ Something that we’re going to watch immediately. We have all the time in the world, so you’re going to learn about the best shows to ever exist.” And as she left, I sat there in a state of utter...joy? It was in this minute that I knew I truly did like the doctor that way. Perhaps this could be the start of our relationship?

She came back in with one of the lounge chairs and pulled it up to my bed. As the show started, some scifi cowboy thing, I turned to her. 

“Doctor, I..I dont believe I got your name?”

She smiles.”Leah. And don’t worry, I already know yours.” 

[hangeladavis]

A Gift For You On My 30th Birthday

IT’S MY 30TH BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

This is an accurate portrayal of how I felt this morning when I woke up! 30!!!! WOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!! I have lots of feels so I made a playlist. Naturally. So here are 30 songs (+1 for good luck) that I love and a little bit about them.

Knockin on Heaven’s Door by Bob Dylan - My mom says that this is the first song that came on the radio when we left the hospital. Imagining that it’s the first song I heard is nice.

I Love Your Smile by Shanice - When I was a baby child, this was my song! Every night when my dad got home from work and walked into our apartment in Queens I would run to him and ask him to play my song and I would sing it. HARD! Mind you I was like 2 or 3 but it didn’t matter.

Fly Like An Eagle by Seal - Can we talk about the Space Jam soundtrack!? It was vibe to my 6 or 7 year old self and it still goes! I feel like this album was the first time I really heard music. And felt it.

I Wanna Be Down by Brandy - Ok so my dad got those Columbia House cds for 1c or whatever and the first one he gave me was Brandy’s self titled album. You couldn’t tell me nothing!!! Hairbrush karaoke on a million!

Bills, Bills, Bills by Destiny’s Child - When “Writings on the Wall” came out, I really tried to convince my friends to do a backyard performance with choreography and everything. They said no but it was then at 9 that I knew I wanted to be an artist, a director specifically.

We Can’t Be Friends by Deborah Cox - Another in the Columbia House cd collection, I played this album out and knew every word. I played it last summer after not listening to it for at least 15 years and still knew every word and every riff.

My All by Mariah Carey - “I’d give my all/ To have/ Just one more night with you” I had no real context for what I was singing but I used to sing this song so hard! I miss classic Mariah.

Kick Your Game by TLC - That Crazy, Sexy, Cool album was so classic and it was hard to pick one song but this was my jam!

I’ll Be There by The Jackson 5 - Now that I am older I question if I really want someone to be there with that much fervor after a breakup but when baby MJ sings “just look over your shoulders honey, oooh!” I feel it in my soul!

Dirty Diana by Michael Jackson - This song sends me. From the very beginning, to the beat drop. And when she grabs the phone from him and tells his baby “He’s not coming back/because he’s sleeping with me!” thats a moment. No one wants to be on the receiving end of that call but Diana gets what she wants.

That’s The Way Love Goes - JANET! Queen of the Whisper Sing! Duchess of Tight Choreo! I was way too young to be singing this song but I blame my dad. It’s a sexy jam and I don’t regret it.

Are You That Somebody by Aaliyah - When I was 10, some friends and I danced to this song at our elementary school. My mom choreographed it, we got matching outfits and we performed it. Another group of girls (who were admittedly more popular) danced to “Maria, Maria” and they wore matching cowboy hats. Naturally, there was a showdown on the playground over who was better. Naturally.

Just a Friend 2002 by Mario - Westbury Middle School! It was the best of times and the worst of times. Mainly the worst of times cuz middle school is hellish and there is nothing you could do to make me want to relive those years. But one of the sweet moments was getting a mixed cd from this boy that had a crush on me and this was the first song. Swoon It worked. We dated for a while. It was cute.

My Life, My Love, My All by Kirk Franklin - This is the first song I ever choreographed and it changed my life. I was 10 years old. I showed my mother the choreo and she said teach me. It was in that moment that she validated my artistry. That’s why can’t nobody tell me nothing. I have been doing this for 20 years!

Healing by Richard Smallwood - My mother choreographed this piece for the church dance ministry, Choresis, at Memorial Presbyterian Church in Roosevelt, NY. It was one of their most popular pieces and it gave my mother the outlet she needed to dive headfirst into her artistry. I learned how to lead, facilitate and hold healing arts-centered space from my mother and the women she danced with. Their labor made me possible.

Air Force Ones by Nelly - Back to Westbury Middle School, this song is to honor the Air Force 1s wearing preteen I was. Ooh girl…

Ready For Love by India.Arie - When this song came out I thought I knew what it meant and sang it as such. Girl. Girl Girl Girl Girl Girl Girl… 15+ years later and the only thing I know is that I don’t know very much at all. Also this song is very hetero and I am indeed very queer. lol

I’ll Write A Song For You by Earth, Wind & Fire - Family road trips were not complete without this song. We still sing this song like it’s our job. I knew we were getting older when my brother Jordan couldn't hit the high notes.

As by Stevie Wonder - This song. Whew. When I was 10, my mother and I were asked to dance to this song at the funeral of a baby that died. We did and afterwards I was tore up. I kept thinking about my baby brother, Aaron, who has just been born and how I would feel if he died. I didn’t listen to this song for years. Until I really listened to the words and thought about a love that transcends space and time. This song inspired me to write a musical based on Stevie Wonder’s music. And it is my favorite song by my favorite singer.

Breathe from In The Heights Musical - Fast forward, my senior year of college my parents gave me tickets for In The Heights for Christmas. My best friend Lana and I sat in the second to last row in this Broadway house and when this song started I wept. I mean completely lost it. Because she was singing my story. I was flunking out of college my senior year and hadn’t told my parents. I had been a top student in high school and graduated #5 in my class. But I didn’t have words to name my anxiety, depression and fear that I had no idea what to do with my life after school. “And what will my parent say?/Can I go in there and say/"I know that I'm letting you down” This song still makes me cry.

I’m Here from The Color Purple Musical - I’ll let the song speak for itself. “I believe I have inside of me /Everything that I need to live a bountiful life/And all the love alive in me/I'll stand as tall as the tallest tree/And I'm thankful for every day that I'm given/Both the easy and hard ones I'm livin'/But most of all, I'm thankful for/Lovin' who I really am

Back That Azz Up - Ha! This is my favorite transition. This song is for my undergrad club days at A&T and the Blu&White fam.

Boogie Oogie Oogie by A Taste of Honey - But I don’t actually club for real because I am a grandma that missed my era. I could dance to disco all night actually.

Seasons of Love from RENT Musical - What can I say? I’m a theatre kid. This is for A&T’s theatre department that taught me so much and made me so much of who and how I am as an artist. And Rest in Peace to the mother of our theatre department, Frankie Day.

Screens by Zoocrü featuring Al Strong - In 2016, I met a woman named Margaret A. Brunson who changed my life. (She has that effect on everyone) The first time we hung out she took me to an Kickstarter kickoff party for a band named Zoocrü. I had never heard of them before but as soon as they started playing I was like Who are these boys? I offered my administrative assistance for their campaign and it turned into more than I ever imagined. That offer is what pushed me into consulting and it’s been a joy to work with artists and creatives. I am grateful that our paths crossed.

Sunday Candy by Donnie Trumpet - My grandmother, my Nanny, Evelyne Marie Laisure Marshall passed away on September 29, 2017. Her living made me possible and her passing changed my life. I talk about grandmas so much because I dont know who I would be without her love. I miss her so much but I find her everywhere; in my red fingernail polish, in my card shuffling, in my baking, in my political analysis, in my care. And yes, in the candy dish in my living room.

F.U.B.U. by Solange - Last year I created a show called “Buy My Soul And Call It Art”. I had no idea what I was doing but my Nanny had passed and my cousin Michael had passed and the Universe was telling me to “do it scared”. This song was featured in the piece because I never wanted anyone to forget who this is for, who this is centering. “All my niggas in the whole wide world…”

I Want You by Erykah Badu - The second show in the trilogy is “Buy My Body And Call It A Ticket” and that show almost killed me. I had to go somewhere deep inside myself and that place is dark and scary and I wasn’t sure that I was gonna make it out. But I did. And what brought me back was this. “I want you.” I want my body. I want my life. I want my love. I want myself.

I Need You To Survive by Hezekiah Walker - Show number 3 (which will be rebooted) is “Buy My Art And Call It Holy”. Though I don’t consider myself a Christian, I cannot separate myself from my Christian upbringing and this is one of my favorite songs. When I sing it I am singing it out to my people. I am singing to you. “I need you/ You need me/We’re all apart of one body”

Never Would Have Made It by Marvin Sapp - Yall there have been times when I wasnt sure if I was gonna make it to 30. Seriously. Depression and anxiety is real. Sometimes it zaps the desire to be right out of me. But I am here. And I am so grateful. Here’s to another day, another week, month, year, decade!

Crazy, Classic, Life by Janelle Monae - Did ya’ll think there wouldnt be some Janelle Monae on here!?! This is my theme song! Let’s ride this thing til the wheels fall off!

[momestuck]

Let’s read Hiveswap Friendsim - volume 6

We just met a cool assassin and the sleaziest Ally(TM) ever. What horrors awaits us next?

Unusually, this time we have a pair of trolls for one of them. But first, we’ve got Elwurd - cerulean blood, equal to Vriska. Kuprum and Fokyl meanwhile have yellow blood, equal to Sollux.

Elwurd

Elwurd is created by Magdalena Clarke, who previously wrote flyboy Vikare.

As soon as our protagonist meets Elwurd, they freak out - understandably because the last few bluebloods we’ve met have been various levels of sadistic monster, starting right back with Ardata in the first episode.

Elwurd’s soundtrack is pretty cool, distorted guitars and a piano. I wish I knew how to describe music! Her (gendered by the narrator) quirk seems to be capitalising the letter L, and nothing else.

But the narrator’s into her look as well, which is good because otherwise the narrator would be entirely unrelatable. We get a moment of introspection...

The narrator chooses to hang with her without an option. The now-standard episode structure is lampshaded...

But we get to choose the closer place or the farther place. This is pretty much random. Let’s go far.

Before long, Elwurd gets a text.

Apparently her ex is like, haunting all the places they used to go together, and flirting with all her friends.

Guess Elwurd isn’t as punk as she looks.

We learn that Elwurd’s ex is a jadeblood, and she gets the idea that we should pretend to be her new partner to fuck with the ex. Eesh. Also apparently troll jerking off can only be represented by ‘a complicated motion’, so xenobiologist headcanoners take note...

To be fair, last time it was to flee from the cops. That was a bit more serious.

The narration notes that there is no way for this to end except with you falling in love with her.

We get to choose between ‘Fake date.’ and ‘FAKE DATE!!’ so... yeah. So much for those misgivings! :D

Let’s be a little reserved...

If her looks weren’t lesbian enough... check out that poster.

Unfortunately, the ex turns out to be...

Hey there Bronya. And oh great, we’re in a lesbian love triangle with trolls.

By which I mean holy shit yes we’re in a lesbian love triangle with trolls!

They make a perfect couple!

We get dragged in as the fake date. Bronya is a little surprised and hurt that we’re with Elwurd. But, she insists, she’s just here for the sweater.

We’re still in Tagora’s robe. ...his bathrobe? We’ve been in a dressing gown this entire time?

Help I’m enjoying this dumb lesbian romcom stuff... I have simple tastes ok

Narrator gets some good ideas, occasionally. We get the magic f-word, and that rounds out the arc!

So what are our other options?

Well first, let’s see what kind of failure mode we get from picking the closer place to hang out this time...

This one gets an entire background!

Unfortunately, at this point she ditches us for a hotter troll girl.

Honestly!

Now if we’re a little too enthusiastic about the fake date...

Unfortunately, she takes this as a sign that we want to rebound from our own fake ex. We go along with this and she decides to take us out to get over our breakout. So I guess we won’t be seeing Bronya in this one...

Honestly. This lesbian troll is like... less given to petty cruelty than most trolls? We’ll take it!

Check out this troll hipster.

We’ve been taken to, it turns out, a lesbian coffee shop. Because we’re an alien, “nobody’s gonna ask”. Actually, what does that sign say? ...no, it just says coffee. However, it’s using the older, upside down Daedric alphabet used in Homestuck, instead of the newly created Alternian alphabet used elsewhere in the Hiveswap games...

And we’re here for...

Slam poetry.

Lesbians!

We agree, probably unwisely, to do some troll slam poetry. Or rather, excessive bodily force poetry. This is going to end sooo well. I mean, we already know we’re on the failure branch.

Unfortunately, troll slam poetry is...

...not that familiar. ‘Tubes and pushers and levers and sacs’. Eep.

Inevitably, also, troll slam poetry involves actual slamming. I was waiting for that joke to arrive.

I am really curious how this is gonna end.

Oh, trolls. ‘If our hate was real enough...’ God this is a fun episode.

This sounds like an exceptional idea. No way this can go wrong. We talk about knees and random Earth celebrities, and finish the performance by hitting ourself in the face.

Luckily, this doesn’t alienate Elwurd. She wants to know about our ‘fakeup’. Which is to say, she’s thinking about Bronya. What does our dear protag do...

They tell the truth about having lied. Elwurd is...

...not impressed. But I appreciate the Cowboy Bebop ref.

Honestly, of all the ways that could have ended, that’s not the worst.

I liked this arc. It had lesbians.

Kuprum and Folykl

This episode’s called “of text and envy, green”, and we’ve had envy in Elwurd’s route, so I’m guessing the next one is gonna be some kinda 4chan thing. Aysha U. Farah is back.

We wander into a poorer neighbourhood. Before long, we’re hiding in an alleyway.

The text on the Condesce posters - once again in upsidedown Daedric rather than the new font - says ‘OBEY’.

Our two trolls arrive on the scene with various kinds of ‘lol’ - and sure enough, > greentext notation.

To be more specific, Kuprum uses greentext, and Folykl (how’s that even pronounced? follicle?) puts in random spaces. Not sure which is which yet. Their theme song is kinda chiptunesy.

I don’t think even people on /b/ talk like this anymore! ...but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. I’m not gonna check.

We get to choose to stick up for ourself or take it lying down. Let’s get trolled.

They make fun of us some more and leave. Even the narrator thinks we dodged a bullet there.

So let’s ‘take it lying down’. The narration comments on this...

Apparently saving them the effort of dunking on us is an appealing trait, to Folykl at least. We learn that Kuprum - the boy - is psychic, while Folkyl has no eyes. Guessing she had them put out because her psychic powers were an issue or something, though why they didn’t just cull her...

heh

We are told that Kuprum really does straight up say ‘LOL’ out loud. And the reason that Folkyl doesn’t have eyes is a disease called ‘voidrot’ which only affects yellowbloods, meaning ‘her body doesn’t retain energy like it’s supposed to’.

The subject of Trizza comes up. I believe Trizza is the current Heir, predecessor to Feferi. Presumably at some point over the course of Hiveswap, she’s going to die.

The two have differing opinions...

The narrator decides to compliment on blackrom. The narration highlights that this is a weird thing to do, but that’s our narrator. They tell us they’re actually pale.

This leads us to the non-instant-death choice for this branch:

Let’s insult them. They’ll probably appreciate that.

Kuprum takes it as a challenge, like we’re making a move on Folkyl. I feel like our narrator doesn’t have long to live.

Anyway, this leads to Folykl approaching like...

And that leads to, uh... her kissing us and then...

this happening?

Yeah, I don’t even know what this chapter’s supposed to be about. 4chan kids with weird kinks?

And we get drained of our psychic energy, or something. Yeah uh... that was... fuck even knows. Aysha, you ok?

Well, let’s not insult people and get into a bizarre vampiric psychic energy smooch thing. Especially when like... how old is Folykl supposed to be?

So yeah we get judged as normie.

The narration grumbles about this assessment.

We move on, returning to the bluebloods lured into the square (by hacking their GPS, or some troll equivalent I forgot). The narrator tries to go meet them, and the 4chan kids remind us this is less ‘prank’ and more ‘class war’. One of the bluebloods goes to call the drones. A ‘chartered scuttlebus’ shows up, and we get more insults for trying to board it without having an appropriate hemospectrum rank.

Heh. There’s some rather explicit commentary about how violence is only acceptable in a certain direction in this society, and these kids couldn’t confront the bluebloods directly.

The drones show up and we make an exit. Unfortunately we meet a drone coming the other way, and the two kids are blasted apart.

The narrator manages to distract the drone long enough for Kuprum to wreck it. There are a lot of comments about our uselessness in a crisis.

Shit’s gotten a bit real, but you still gotta lol.

The narration makes some pointed comments...

And we get our friendship screen.

I really don’t know what to make of this chapter in all honesty. Like ok, getting to chill with a lesbian doing suitably dykey things, like relationship drama and slam poetry, was a lot of fun. And like, if it wasn’t for the failure branch, I’d be pretty happy with the 4chan dorks too.

But... what the heck was up with that branch where Folykl smooches you and drains your energy after you insult her relationship? That’s like... a very weird way for a chapter to go.

I feel like it was trying to make a point like... yeah they are kind of jerks to each other but they provide something important and really care under the ribbing, something about like... hurt people coming together in a horrific situation. But they could have made that point perfectly well without that whole ‘kissing the narrator suddenly’ thing which just felt really uncomfortable.

All the same, there we go. Three friends for the price of two!