#our statement will be read to the judge though

[cold--carnage]

I don't know if that court person is like our lawyer or whatever but she's at least nice to us

[mustainegf]

Hi Elena!

I took a deep breath and assembled my guts to send a non-anonymous request 😂.

It’s the classic trope of being James’s controversially younger GF. She has a secret insta account so she occasionally checks the comments. And many people criticize her for being a gold digger and using James to get famous (despite she got no official social media accounts and doesn’t do events, unless she’s there with James). But she’s mostly saddened because they criticize him and call him a pervert for being with a much younger woman. So she decides to break up with him for his sake and public image, but never tells him it was because of cyber bullying.

And maybe a few weeks after the break up, one of other band members shows him the comments and some fans are celebrating that they broke up. And he realizes the true reason for the break up? And in the end, they reconcile and maybe he makes a statement asking everyone to respect his personal life?

I’m a big fan your blog, so hopefully you’ll like the request sgd will consider writing a story 😊. No pressure though))

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ²⁰²³

Just all attention that I never wanted, and people obviously stared, judged, and picked apart everything that I was doing, making me super exposed in the most unimaginable way. But yeah, that is a given when you're dating somebody like James Hetfield. Perhaps his name fills up stadiums and blows up newsfeeds.

So looking back, I didn't know what lay ahead as I met him. It was obviously just me and him at first, laughing at little stuff and having a good time over music and life. It was like finally, here's someone who understands me in a way nobody ever has. But man, it all flipped once we went public.

It just seemed like, overnight, it wasn't just us anymore. I never thought it would blow up this bad. People thought I was in it for all the wrong reasons, that I was a gold digger trying to leech off of his fame. But to be honest, the worst of it all wasn't even what they said about me, it was the stuff they said about him.

"He's a pervert."

"How could he be with someone so young?

"They look ridiculous together."

All that that was commented on, I could have completely avoided. I didn't have any social media other than this private Instagram for my use. Yet, honestly, I'd be lying if I said that I never went onto it. I would scroll through and read the comments of some random fan posting in search of some sort of acceptance. But of course, it was just the same brutal tale, the fans tore into James, calling him a creep for even dating anyone of my age.

Man, that hurt. It was not about me, the rumors and all the whispering around, I could handle it. It just was for him, you know? He was a legend, he'd given so much to the world with his music. And now, it felt like people were just using me to take shots at his legacy.

He had totally missed those comments. James wasn't the type to spend too much time online. The real world was sufficient for him.

He had been so nice to me, really supportive, and utterly clueless about all the hate coming our way. He was of the opinion that what we had was strong and would get us through anything. I wanted that to be true, too. Yet, with every post claiming him a creep, or that he's lost all his dignity, I was just simply ruining his reputation.

I liked him so much, and because of that, I made the toughest decision: I broke up with him.

I didn't tell him what it really was for. I just told him I needed space. Of course, he didn't get it. How could he? Everything was all right; there wasn't a fight or at least any huge issue.

I could definitely see the confusion and pain in his eyes as I walked out that day. It really got to me, but I kept telling myself, it's all for his good. He would be much better off in the long run rather than having me holding him back in front of his fans.

The weeks that succeeded seemed to be like a vacuum. I missed him more than I had ever thought I would: how he hummed a tune of some old song while cooking or how he stared at me as though nobody existed in a room full of people. I never changed my mind but kept my distance and followed his movements through whispers of mutual friends, sometimes in the news and other media.

So, one day, this was the fan post I came across from my secret Instagram feed: an appreciation post due to our breakup, saying, "Finally, James can move on and find someone better." Plenty of those comments, cheering on the end of us and acting like they knew what was good for him. Well to be frank, part of me was relieved; I did make the right choice.

But another part of me kinda felt gross, I guess. These people didn't know him like I did. They didn't see the dude behind the music, the one that'd hug me tight after a long day and make everything feel okay.

A few weeks passed, then finally I heard from James himself, by that time I had thought he'd moved on, found his peace in the break up. One of the band members showed him the comments, Lars, if I can recall. I didn't expect that. I thought all the poisonous words of the fans would never find their way to him, that he would never have to see just how cruel people could be. But Lars showed him, and suddenly everything came back.

I got his call pretty soon afterwards. His voice sounded just like it was then, chilled yet serious, in a continuous effort to sort out something big.

He asks, "Why didn't you just tell me.?"

Well, I played the role of clueless well, like I didn't know what he was talking about, but James really wasn't buying that. He got it, saw comments, accusations, those low remarks, judgments, and thus put them together. He knew why I had bailed.

"I thought it was best that way," I finally managed to respond.

"For who?" he asked in a voice that was slightly hoarse.

"For you," I said; my voice was all choked up. "I didn't want people constantly putting you down because of me."

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the line for a long period of time. Then he spoke again, "I don't care what they say, you know?"

All I wanted was to just have the ability to trust him, but I knew words cut, even when people act like it did not hurt. I knew how committed he was with his legacy, how the fans looked up to him. I just did not want to be that to ruin it.

"I care," I said softly. "I just can't handle them ripping you to shreds because of me."

After some time, the reply came in the form of James's soft, subdued voice, "I want you, not them."

This well of my tears, you know the ones that almost spill but hold back. He was too good, you know. He was so understanding, and all the time. Yet, I did not know whether this could mend that which already was messed up.

Days later, James gave a statement to the public. He did not name anybody, but it was like you could read between the lines. He was asking for respect, not just for himself but for the people surrounding him, he owed no one explanation for whom he chose to love, this is his own thing. And honestly, if people are not able to handle it, then maybe they were never true fans to begin with.

The weight of his words was much heavier than what I could ever have imagined. Just words, but powerful words,he was defending me, defending us, in a manner I couldn't even have imagined, and it suddenly felt like this cross of public opinion wasn't weighing on me as much as I thought it had been.

After that statement, James called me up again, and this time I didn't give it a second thought. We met, and the very moment I saw him, everything fell in place once again, the stress, the distance, just gone in his arms.

"I never wanted to hurt you," I said, my voice all shaky.

"You didn't," he said, reaching and pulling me close. "I only wish you had told me sooner."

Of course, people judge and whisper behind our backs, but honestly, that doesn't weigh me down like it used to, since now I have James with me, and I know what we have is tougher than anything those random people can say.

This time I am definitely hanging on.

[zyonsay]

Hello! Could i request a max v fic where max's relationship with m!reader (who is a fmous supermodel) gets exposed and they have to deal w the media. Thank you!

I hear them whisper MV1

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: Defending your relationship with the champion

Reader: Male

Warnings: Homophobia ig

Now playing: 'Ferrari Horses' by RAYE & D-Block Europe

AN: Hey there anon! This is rushed, but i hope you like it!

(Second Part)

A sweet smile crept on your face as Max was getting ready. He too was smiling like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. The outfit you chose to wear was stunning and he looked forward to spending the night out with you. Usually, he’d go alone since you two weren’t ready to openly state your relationship to the media. But tonight, it was different. You were ready to have some fun, you couldn’t just sit by the sidelines while your boyfriend went out partying. Maybe nobody would notice, or…?

Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the music or maybe it was your ballsy mood, but you were loudly chanting along to a song in the club. People watched the way you clutched onto Max, or the way his hand was always around you in some way. Yes, you two were known to be friends, but friends wouldn’t be all over each other in the club, right?

Though every shadow of a doubt disappeared into thin air as he pulled you into a sloppy, passionate kiss. It was obvious, painfully so.

All it took was one singular photograph for everyone to know that famous runway model Y/n L/n was dating Max Verstappen. The news were plastered with your faces, the Hashtag ‘Y/n & Max’ was blowing up on X and countless statements, posts or comments appeared. It was forbidden, a not-so silent Taboo, so naturally you attracted a lot of attention.

It took you a lot of convincing, but eventually Max persuaded you to come along to his races. You had no choice but to move forward. You were a model, now it was time to show your face. You received many nasty comments, but the support coming from certain fans was enough to keep you going.

You watched from afar as your boyfriend was giving his statements about the race. His eyes darted towards you every ow and then, making sure you were alright. Then, he motioned for you to come over. He slid an arm around your waist, gently pulling you to his side. “You two have been getting a lot of attention lately. Any comments on that?”, the interviewer faked a polite smile, but you knew well that he was judging you two. Max’s blue eyes gazed sharply at the older man. “We love each other. That’s the most important thing.”, his tone was dismissive, and it was obvious he was getting irritated. “I think it might be best to focus on racing, our relationship does not concern the public.” Your sunglasses lightly slid down, revealing your eyes as you pierced the interviewer with your stare. The man could only stare at you.

"Thanks", a sweet smile appeared on your lips.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 7/34 - pocket bow tie

[Read on AO3]

She looks excited. At least, he thinks she does.

The good news is, she doesn't look like she's about to bolt out the door, and he calls that a win.

They may not be committing themselves to each other in the way a marriage is typically supposed to go, but this is a big commitment all the same. If she changes her mind now, their plans for adoption are as good as gone. The idea of family, as foreign as it has been for the last 26 years of his life.

He’ll admit he’s gotten rather attached to the idea. Perhaps a little too much so, considering how unique their situation is, and how often they've been dealt blow after blow of disappointment.

He looks down at the woman to his left. Any worries he might have had melt away at the sight of her. She's calm, her lips quirked up in a quiet, content smile as they wait to be called into the courtroom. Her shoulder brushes against his arm, and he resists the temptation to touch her, to hold her hand in his, knowing he will have his chance later.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he says, having held on to that one all morning. She smiles up at him, looking every bit the blushing bride she is, despite the absence of the big white dress and veil.

"I think Bill was intimidated by how nicely you were dressed," she teases back.

He looks down at his fine-cut suit. "What, this old thing?"

Scully has never been the kind to care how expensive one's clothes were, but even she has to admit that he looks good in Armani. And judging by his smirk, he knows it too.

"Did you have that bow tie stuffed in your pocket all morning, Mulder?" she asks, reaching up to straighten it.

"Had to look nice for our special day," he answers cheesily. "Plus, you told me to ditch the colorful ties. Figured I'd get a head start on the whole 'happy wife, happy life' thing."

Wife. Husband. Those words sound so foreign, and yet, in just a few moments time, they will apply to them.

'Excuse me, table for me and my wife, please.'

'Yes, I'm her husband. That's me.'

The insanity of it all makes him want to laugh.

"Fox Mulder and Dana Scully?" a clerk asks, popping her head out of the courtroom door.

He feels Scully's hand grasp for his, and a thrill runs up his spine. "That's us," she says, stepping forward. He gives her hand a squeeze, following after her like a lost puppy.

Here we go.

Once they’re inside, the judge gestures for them to approach the bench, and they stand side-by-side in the center of the chamber. The dark oak wood is daunting, bringing back memories of not particularly enjoyable times they’ve been in courtrooms.

This time is different, though. The judge is smiling, for one, looking down her thin, half-moon spectacles at them. And, for once, their time in court will serve to unite them, rather than split them apart.

Yes, this would be a very nice change, indeed.

“What a beautiful couple you make,” the older woman speaks, her eyes crinkling in joy. Scully smiles, and Mulder clings a little tighter to her hand. “Are we ready to get started?”

They nod, and Mulder has to focus to keep his knees steady under him. They’re really doing this. He can hardly believe it has come to this point.

“We are gathered here to join Fox and Dana in the blessed union of marriage,” the judge starts, reciting her opening statement to the mostly empty room. One clerk stands by as their witness, a camera in hand to capture their memories of the day, probably with the intent to sell them back to them at an exorbitant price. 

It doesn’t matter. Mulder will pay it anyway, whatever the cost.

“This is not a responsibility to be taken lightly,” she continues. “A marriage ought to be founded on mutual respect, affection, and a desire to see through any challenges that may come your way. If you speak your vows in truth, this union will strengthen your bond, serving as a constant reminder of your unwavering love for one another.”

Mulder swallows, holding fast to the comfortable weight of Scully’s hand in his. The judge’s words only reinforce his belief that this is the right decision, that this is meant to be. Mutual respect, affection, going through life’s challenges… how else would he describe what he and Scully have? What they’ve had for over half a decade?

Unwavering love . He’s got that in spades. He feels it from her too, that fierce loyalty. “Love…” Well, he’d like to think so. At least some form of it.

“Fox,” the judge speaks, calling him to attention. He fumbles for Scully’s other hand, the way he remembers seeing at a friend’s wedding once in Oxford. “Will you take Dana to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, comfort her, honor her, and keep her, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

Easiest yes in the entire world.

Green eyes meet blue.

“I will,” he says.

“And Dana,” he feels his throat close, choking back a sudden rise of emotion. “Will you take Fox to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love him, comfort him, honor him, and keep him, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?”

It’s the ‘forsaking all others’ part he feels like Scully shouldn’t be agreeing to, but they’ve talked this over. He still can’t quite believe she picked him. Him! Out of any man she could have.

“I will,” she answers, squeezing his hands once. He nods, and feels—not for the first time—that she’d known exactly what was going through his head. They certainly are spooky like that, sometimes.

“Excellent,” the judge praises. “Now, do you have your own vows, or—”

“The standard is fine,” Scully says, smiling up at Mulder.

“Standard it is,” she says. “Fox, repeat after me. I, Fox, take you Dana.”

“I, Fox, take you, Dana.” He leans in close and adds, for her ears only, “Scully,” with a conspiratorial smile, whispering the name he gave her that first day they met. It’s the only one that feels right coming from his lips, and he needs her to know that this isn’t just for show. This isn’t ‘Fox’ making promises to ‘Dana.’ This is them—Mulder and Scully. It’s real. As real as anything she can prove with her beloved science. 

The judge, oblivious to his unprompted addition, continues. “To be my wife,” she says.

“To be my wife.”

His. He would have a wife, and it would be Scully. His Scully. He runs his thumb over her knuckles in circular strokes, swallowing back emotion. She shudders under the intensity of his gaze.

“To have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, to love and to cherish, from this day forward.”

It feels good to speak these promises aloud. For so long, he’s taken and taken and taken from her, watched her life and her dreams be stolen from her grasp, powerless to stop it. Now he can finally give, starting here and now, with his solemn vow to be there for her in every way the judge described. He hopes she can see the truth in his eyes. How much he means these words, from the bottom of his heart.

Judging by the way her eyes glisten, he’s coming across loud and clear.

Then, it’s her turn, and she looks up at him through fluttering eyelashes. “I, Dana,” she says, smiling coyly in preparation for what they both know comes next. “Take you, Fox.” His name is spoken with a teasing lilt, and it sounds just as unnatural as it always does coming from her mouth. He breathes a laugh, jostling her hands playfully between them. “Mulder,” she whispers, just as he had, and his heart melts. “To be my husband.”

The rest of her vows follow, equal to his, just as they are equal in all things. The weight of what they are promising lands squarely on their shoulders, at once harrowing and freeing. Mulder can hardly believe the ceremony is almost over.

“Now, do you have rings to exchange?”

Scully goes to answer that, no, they don’t, but movement from Mulder stalls her. He fishes something from his pocket, facing her with a shy smile.

“Merry Christmas, Scully,” he says, dropping a plain silver band in the palm of her hand. She sees his fist clenched around what must be her ring, and tilts her head in fond exasperation, a silent whine of ‘Mulder…’ that he looks forward to hearing every time they exchange gifts. 

The judge waxes poetic (as poetic as city hall can get) about the meaning of rings, their significance in a marriage, symbolism—but Mulder and Scully are barely listening. All they hear is her instruction to place the band on each other’s left ring finger, which they happily do, taking their time to slide it into place. The weight feels heavy, but right, on Mulder’s hand, and Scully’s… Scully’s sparkles just like he’d imagined it would when he picked it out at the jewelry shop.

They won’t be able to wear them in public most of the time—he’d known that from the start—but for now, in this room where everyone is privy to the legal bonds being established between them, they are free to do whatever they wish. 

“Well then,” the judge speaks up, beaming from ear to ear. “Having consented to enter into this union and pledged your vows to each other, by the authority vested in me by the State of Maryland and the circuit courts of Anne Arundel County, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” She reaches up and takes off her glasses, setting them down in front of her. “Mr. Mulder, you may kiss your bride.”

Blood rushes to his ears, and for a second all he can hear is the pounding of his heart.

Somehow, in all the weeks they’ve been planning this, he’d never considered this particular part of the ceremony. A startling oversight, considering how thorough he’d been with everything else.

Scully is looking up at him, the only sign of her own internal turmoil being the way she bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He wants to kiss her, oh, does he want to kiss her. But this is where the line between real and fake goes gray. 

‘Is this okay?’ he asks with his eyes, his hands suddenly sweating a fair bit more than they had been before. He gets an almost imperceptible nod in return, and makes up his mind.

It’s chaste, the way his lips first meet hers. His hands land on that place on her back that she thinks of as belonging to him, and he dips down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. She turns and catches him with her lips, her hand coming up to lay flat against his chest. It barely lasts more than a few seconds, but it leaves him feeling dizzy nonetheless, breathless. He smiles a lopsided grin.

Of all the ways he imagined their first kiss going, in front of two complete strangers at their wedding was not one of them. 

The air feels awkward when they pull back, not quite able to meet each other’s eyes, but the silence is quickly filled with congratulatory remarks from both the judge and their witness. In an act of boldness, he captures her hand again as they are ushered out of the room, holding tightly to it. As he predicted, their witness-slash-photographer takes Mulder’s money, promising that the prints from their ceremony will be delivered to his address in a month’s time, and he thanks her.

Step one is complete. They have officially started the process that would have them labeled the craziest agents in the FBI.

For once, he doesn’t really mind being the crazy one.

~~~

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[catierambles]

Witch Hunt Ch. 4

Cait sat back in the chair with a sigh, one of the files that had been sent over laid out on the desk in front of her.

“How do they get anything done over there?” She asked.

“Haven’t a clue.” Walter said as he read over witness statements. “Our newest victim was also an antiques dealer, only privately this time. No store. Worked strictly from her office.”

“Any date book or cell phone in her personal effects?” Cait asked, “She may have had an appointment with the guy.”

“No date book,” Walter said, getting up from the desk and heading over to one of the boxes and pulling out an evidence bag. “Cell phone. It’s locked, but I can send it to the lab to see if they can crack it.”

“Walter, this woman was an antiques dealer, not a CIA Agent.” She said and sighed again, “Let me see it.” He opened the bag, cutting through the evidence tape, while she put on a pair of nitrile gloves, handing the cell phone over. “Was she married? Have kids?”

“Widowed with a daughter.”

“Four digit PIN.” She said, looking at the screen. “Anniversary date?”

“February third.” Walter said and she punched in 0-2-0-3 with the stylus from her own phone as the touchscreen wouldn’t register with the gloves.

“Nope.” Cait said, playing the long game as she couldn’t just go straight for the correct answer without raising eyebrows. “When did her husband die?”

“November twenty-second.”

1-1-2-2

“Nope. What’s her daughters’ birthday?”

“April twenty-third.”

0-4-2-3

“And we’re in.” She said as the lock screen gave way to the home screen. “Have an entry in her calendar for yesterday evening. Ethan Wyatt - Ring.”

“Any phone number?”

“No dice, looks like they communicated via email.” She said, going through the inbox. “Attached to one is an appraisal for a ring. Twelfth century, carved from obsidian and inlaid with rubies.” She gave a low whistle.

“What?”

“Worth more than I would make in a decade.” She said, “They find a ring at the scene?”

“No.” Walter said, shaking his head. “Damn old ring.”

“And unique.” Cait said, “They used metal back then with some precious gems. Even now you won’t find a lot of jewelry made strictly from obsidian. Inlaid, yes, but not entirely made of it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s volcanic glass, not stone. Primarily used for tools and weapons, not jewelry, and again, not entirely.” She said, “If this Wyatt guy is our man, could be we found a motive.”

“I’ll get someone on tracking down the name and put out a BOLO on a ring matching that description.”

“If it is him, he won’t try to sell it right away. Too hot. Something that unique...no, he’d sit on it for a while before trying to sell it. Or, he may not at all. Insurance company come back with pictures of the first victims’ inventory?”

“Not yet.” Walter said, “They gave me the run around when I first called before agreeing to send them over, might need to get a judge to sign a warrant. If he’s going after antiques dealers for something they have in stock, that’d be a connection.”

“First we need to figure out if Ethan Wyatt is our man. I doubt it’s his real name if it is him, he had to have known she would have marked down the appointment.” Cait said.

“You never made this connection with the others?” Walter asked but she shook her head.

“The other victims weren’t in that business. Stay at home mom, lawyer, a paramilitary gun-nut. No connection between any of them.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” She said, going back to the emails, “Put out the BOLO anyway for the ring, just to cover bases, while someone looks into Wyatt. In their first communication he said he was a museum curator putting together an exhibit for that time period, didn’t say what museum though. A lot of haggling over the finders’ fee before they settled on a figure. Not full sticker price, but close.”

“It’ll take some time before anything comes back. Feel like lunch?”

“I could eat. Any place in mind?”

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“Can’t get enough of it.”

“There’s a place downtown that has a good lunch special. Come on, my treat.” He said, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket.

“How’s their miso?”

“Soul warming.” He said and she gave a small huff of a laugh. Locking the phone again, she placed it back into the evidence bag and retaped it, using a sharpie to mark it with the date and her initials, before stripping off the gloves and tossing them in the wastebasket by his desk. “Ladies first.”

“Age before beauty.”

“I’m not that much older than you!” He objected with a smile and she laughed.

“Scoot your butt! Go!” She said and he left the office ahead of her, not seeing how she briefly checked out the fit of his dark jeans.

Walter smiled gently at her across the small table as her lips twisted almost wistfully after she took a sip from the bowl of miso, foregoing the spoon altogether. Their lunch orders were being worked on, the soup and salad brought to the table first.

“Good?” He asked and she hummed with a nod. “Good.”

“Good call.”

“I have my moments.” Walter said, “So, Cait.”

“Yes?”

“What were you assigned before...”

“The horrible murders?” She asked, setting down the bowl, and he nodded, “Pseudo-religious paramilitary organizations.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, the government’s gonna come for our freedoms,” She took on a slightly over the top southern televangelist accent, “We gotta arm ourselves with AKs in the name of Jaysus Christ hallelujah amen.” She gave a small cough to clear her throat, “They're a dime a dozen in the Deep South.” Cait finished, dropping the accent.

“Ah.” He said with a chuckle. “I'm guessing they didn't like it when the Feds showed up on their doorstep.”

“They didn't know I was a Fed, just another member of the flock.” She said, “Right up until I gave the signal and they were raided by the FBI and the ATF.”

“Don't remember hearing about anything about that.”

“They aren't all big showdowns with riot gear and helicopters. The ones the public do know about are rare, as the leaders of the groups almost always fold when the government actually does show up. A well organized raid takes all of an hour of prep, and about five minutes after breach to be done and dusted. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am, last one to the bar buys the first round.”

“What did your family think of you getting into this line of work?”

“Oh they approved of it. Whole heartedly.” She said, “I grew up in what was basically a giant commune. Family, extended family, friends close enough to be considered family. When I said I wanted to go into law enforcement, they were overjoyed. It was also a bit of a family tradition. Mom was also in the FBI.”

“What about your father?”

“Never met the man. Don’t even know his name.” She said, “Mom told me when I was old enough that I’m the product of a one-night stand. Blowing off steam after the conclusion of an assignment. She never tried to track him down, and I never cared enough to look into it. Besides, with the amount of people I grew up around, I wasn’t short on father figures. I can name three men I considered my father, and genetics had nothing to do it.”

[teamplasmaofficial]

The Plasma Grunt grips her uniform tightly, sweat already building on her forehead. Just minutes before she was in the pokémon rehabilitation centre, preparing liberated pokemon to be released, when her supervisor broke the news.

"Sam, Lord Ghetsis requires your company. Report to his office immedietly,"

And now here she is, wondering down the mostly barren halls, the sound of her well polished boots clacking against the floor being the only sound.

The door to his office was surprisingly unguarded (especially since there is a concerningly large dent in the centre of it), she reaches forward to knock-

A gentle hand suddenly grasped her wrist, evoking a terrified gasp. She slaps her other hand over her mouth, muffling the sound. Only inches from her face, silent, silver eyes judging each curve of her face.

‘They must be a Shadow,’ she thinks to herself, uncertain if she could break the surprisingly gentle grip on her wrist if she tried. She’d never seen them in person, but heard from the higher ups that they were Lord Ghetsis’ personal servants, capable of anything and everything he commanded of them.

As soon as they had appeared, the Shadow was gone. “Lord Ghetsis will see you now,” a quiet, disembodied voice whispered from behind her, and the door gently swings open.

That’s when she starts to worry.

Only 17, Sam had dropped out of school a month prior to fully dedicate herself to freeing poor, abused pokémon alongside Team Plasma. She spends most of her time tending to the liberated pokémon, though yesterday morning she’d received a scolding from her supervisor. In her month as a part of the infamous team, she was yet to liberate a single pokémon.

Was she going to be fired? Can you fire someone if they aren’t being paid? Her time with Team Plasma is completely voluntary, so why were they mad? Why did it concern Ghetsis?

“Come in,” a deep, booming voice demanded, the tone of authority causing her to jump slightly. She did as she was told, slowly making her way into the ornate office, until she stood in the centre of it, before the mighty cedar wood desk.

She’d seen her leader before, obviously. He often preached in towns across the region, it was one of his speeches which convinced her to join Team Plasma to begin with. But this, it was different. He sat upon a chair so delicate it could be considered a throne, his golden collar hung off his shoulders with pride.

Ghetsis raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and Sam immediately drops to her knees.

“You called me, my Lord?” her voice is shaking almost uncontrollably. Arc, was he always this tall?

“Indeed I did,” Ghetsis stands, lifting the lid of some kind of ancient laptop. It was thicker than a novel, good Arc. “Come here,” he demands, and Sam obliges. Ghetsis turns the screen around, and on it Sam is faced with… A Rotomblr post?

“Read.” he huffs, and she does so immediately.

It’s an anonymous message, filled with usual anti-plasma statements, but then her eyes graze over the last sentence. Once again she slaps her hand over her mouth, this time muffling laughter.

“What’s so funny?!” Ghetsis slams his hands down on the table, the sudden action frightening the poor grunt. She trips backward, only just retaining her footing. “All these people laugh at it, just like this, and refuse to explain!” He’s fuming, teeth gritted in anger. If it were someone else within striking distance from the old man, Sam doubts she would be able to control herself from doubling over in hysteric laughter.

“You’re young,” he deadpans, “the youngest amongst our ranks. Explain this to me; what are they saying?”

Oh good Arceus no.

Sam gulps, her voice now quivering with suppressed laughter, “I uh.. My Lord I believe they’re saying they find you… attractive,” she silently begs, please don’t make me say it out loud.

“I don’t believe you,” he snarls, clearly in a downright rotten mood. “If that were the case, it wouldn’t have received this reaction. Tell me what this means,” he demands, his finger shoved directly below the word ‘dilf’.

“Uhhh..” You know what, this is worse than being fired. She’d rather Arceus strike her down in this office than explain that to her boss. Though, he was clearly growing more restless, and the scars she could now see littering his face reinforced the impression that you should Not make him mad.

“Well you see… It’s an acronym,” she winces, staring directly past Ghetsis, “it’s an acronym, yes… Uh…”

“Say it!” He snaps, “I’ve had enough of this tomfoolery, tell me what a dilf is!”

Sam squeezes her eyes shut, opens her mouth, and, “Dilf is an acronym for ‘Dad I’d Like to Fuck’!”

Silence

“I’m sorry, it means what?”

[h-c-u]

A sheep in Wolff's clothing

Summary: You accompany Toto Wolff at the after-season dinner with drivers, TPs and the few more important people from each teams.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader. Kinda.

W/C: 5.5k

Rating: PG

TWs: none

A/N: You guys are gonna hate me for it, so I apologize in advance! And I assure you I'm already working on something else with our dear Mr. Wolff.

Masterlist | List of tags

You were a perfect girlfriend, and it was something that came extremely easy for you. You knew what to wear, when to smile, what comments to make... When to dominate the conversation, when to let your partner shine, and when to pull others into the spotlight. You knew how to make others laugh, how to make them feel somber, how to make them jealous of how you were treating Toto and how he treated you.

You knew what type of partner he needed, and you were perfect in that role. You teased him just enough and complimented him in a way that wasn't forced, which wasn't that hard because you honestly admired what he was doing.

You were with him at every gala, and every time he or his team got any rewards. You accompanied him on races in UK, Austria, and Monaco... And whenever you were seen together in public, everything was always picture perfect.

So, it was no surprise when you showed up at the after-season dinner with all the drivers and team principals, wearing a dress that made a few of the younger drivers outright stop and stare, but you were used to it by now. You just gave them a polite smile and waved in their direction with a hand that wasn't holding a clutch worth more than some apartments in the center of London.

You stopped for a moment to exchange greetings and compliments with Geri, who immediately clocked your bag and expressed jealousy because she was also bidding on it. You just chuckled and said that if she needed any tips for the next time, she should ask Toto, because you had nothing to do with buying it. You gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and went deeper into the room, to finally locate the man, the myth, the legend, who invited you to such a prestigious event.

- Ah, fashionably late, Schatzi...? - he joked and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your cheek and rest his hand on your waist.

- I'm never late, it's everyone else that is early. - you laughed, wrapping your clutch-free hand around him, and putting your head on his shoulder for just a moment. If it was up to you, you wouldn't have any purse with you today, but it was a statement. And people who were meant to understand it - definitely did. - Besides - how else am I supposed to make an entrance? - this time the other team principals laughed too. You took a peek up to read what was on Toto's face, and you could tell that he didn't want you to go mingle just yet, so you stayed where you were, complimenting the other teams’ achievements this season. It took everyone a little bit by surprise because one - you were obviously cheering for Mercedes, and two - you seemed to know just as much as someone high in management, which meant that you not only paid attention but also understood what was happening behind the scenes.

And you couldn't help but see the glimmer of jealousy in Christian’s eyes, because even though Geri was one of his biggest supporters, the way you spoke about how you admired a specific tactic the Red Bull team implemented this season (even though that meant less winning races for Mercedes), just couldn't compare to "you're doing amazing sweetie" he was getting from his wife. Judging by the way Toto squeezed your waist you knew you did well...

- You better not let this one go, my friend... She's one of a kind. - you pretended to blush at Frederick’s words, and hid your face behind your purse, at the same time showing it off.

- Yeah, when are you going to pop the big question? - Otmar interjected, and you gently tapped your fingers on Toto's hip, letting him know you're going to handle this one.

- Didn't he tell you guys? - you pretended to be surprised, and let the silence hang in between everybody just long enough for it not to become uncomfortable. - I said no. - the smile on your face suggested that there will be more, but the principles already laughed. - But in all seriousness - I'm the one responsible for that... I want to wait till I'll be done with my Ph.D. because there is no way I could plan the wedding right now. - you added and the way Toto pulled you closer told you that you did well. It suggested that there was a plan, but it was vague enough that he wouldn’t be faced with questions about it for quite some time. And when they appear, he could brush them off by talking about your research instead, and those types of projects could last for years.

- Oh yeah, biology, right? - you were honestly surprised that Christian was the one who remembered something. He was a bit off though.

- Biotechnology. - you corrected him with a light smile. You could have just nodded, but you were proud enough of the field of your academic achievements, that you couldn't help yourself. - I'm currently part of a research team working on stabilizing Microbial Fuel Cells for long-term medical applications, which is also a basis for my thesis. - you offered but by the look on everyone's face, you knew you lost them. - It's basically a battery that runs on bacteria. - you simplified and that was enough to prompt a few simple questions you didn’t mind answering. You adjusted your language so people who had almost no idea what you were talking about could still understand the gist of it, and by doing so you showed everyone that you felt comfortable enough in your field that you could explain it to anyone, but also conveyed how intelligent you were, without throwing that in their faces.

- Beauty and brains... - Frederick said in a joking manner, so you laughed politely. You felt the natural end to the conversation, and you were just about to excuse yourself when there was a light jingle letting everyone know that the dinner was about to be served. So, you let yourself be whisked away to the Mercedes table, which was already occupied by Lewis, George, and his girlfriend, Bono, Ric, James, and Simon. It was less than at the last event, but that wouldn’t be a problem since you didn’t need to hide behind meaningless conversations with as many people as you could.

Toto pulled out the chair for you and helped you sit down, always the gentleman. But before he ended in his own chair, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, to which you replied with a shy smile.

- It's good to see you again, George. - you greeted the driver seated next to you even before the food arrived. - I was trying to catch you earlier to congratulate you in person on São Paulo. - you put your hand on his forearm to emphasize your words. You already messaged him about it, but it was different in person. - You did really well this season. - you leaned a bit closer to him, so Toto wouldn't hear what you were about to say. - Don't tell him I said anything, but he told me he's really proud of you. - you whispered as if you were sharing a secret about nuclear codes, to which he reacted with laughter.

- Thank you, Y/n. I just hope that you'll be there when I'll get another one. - you leaned back in your chair, making space for the waiter to put a plate with an appetizer in front of you. In the beginning, you always made sure that Toto remembered the fact that you were vegan, but at this point - you didn't have to, because he always did. He paid attention not only to the food but also to other things he bought for you; everything came from environmentally conscious companies, which you appreciated.

- Well, I can't leave the UK for long, because of my research, but if you'll manage to plan your win for Austria, Monaco, or Silverstone, I guarantee I'll be there. - you smiled politely.

- I’ll keep that in mind… By the way, Carmen wanted to add you on Instagram, but since you have it private, she wasn't able to. Would it be ok, if... - he started asking, but you cut him off.

- Yes, of course! I'm sorry, I'm just a really private person and I don't even post that much... - you took your phone out of your clutch, opened the mentioned app, and passed your phone to George's girlfriend. - Just find and add yourself, it's gonna be quicker that way. - you gave her a huge smile.

- Thanks... Sorry to make such a big deal out of it. - by the way she looked at her boyfriend you could easily tell that that ask wasn't consulted beforehand.

- No problem, we're all friends here. - you laughed it off and took back your phone from her hands. You could see the last few pictures that were posted on your account, including the one with a giant bouquet of flowers Toto randomly sent you last week. That's exactly why you had this profile; to share a few crumbs of your relationship with him nestled in between your normal boring life, but it was the life you were happy in.

- And consider yourself lucky, I had to ask her for weeks before she added me! - Lewis commented and you couldn't help but chuckle.

- In my defense, you're one of the biggest gossips on the paddock, and I value my privacy. I had to make sure that you could be trusted. - you joked with the other driver, and what you said was mostly true. When you met Toto for the first time, you were much more paranoid about anything you two did, but now, after over 3 years, you were much more comfortable.

- Me...? - he pretended to be hurt and placed his hand on his heart, simulating real pain. - Gossiping...? - the theatrical gasp that left his mouth was at least Oscar-worthy and everyone at the table laughed.

The rest of the meal went without any major surprises. The conversation was polite but light, the food was amazing, and Toto was as lovely as ever. He didn't let his hands linger on your body for too long, he complimented you in front of your engineers, and to your surprise - he was even able to explain in more detail what was the purpose of your research, which meant that he did his homework. And since the topic of generating electric current was more familiar to them, you were more than happy to dive deeper and answer more in-depth questions, so before the desert, Toto silently offered that you two switch places, so you could talk with the engineers without having to lean over him.

And when the desert came, he was the one to make sure that the dish in front of you was vegan, because you were so caught up in explaining how the MFCs could potentially be used in pacemakers, and what technological steps were separating you from that.

It was nice to lower your barriers a little bit and talk without having to think about what you were about to say, but that ended right after the desert because it was your time to shine on Toto's arm again. So, you thanked the four men for the conversation and let Toto lead you to the dancefloor, where there were already a few couples dancing. Since not everyone finished their meals yet, the music was rather slow, but that didn't stop you two from enjoying the pleasant dance.

Even after all this time, you still couldn't figure out how he always managed to find you the most comfortable heels you ever had on your feet, even though they were abysmally high. They didn't mess up your balance at all and even after a whole evening of dancing, you weren't in that much pain. Plus - they not only matched the dress he chose for you but also his tie and the handkerchief in his pocket, so you two looked like you were made for each other. You stopped worrying about the prices of everything a long time ago; you had to if you didn't want to lose your mind in fear of accidentally damaging anything, even though everything he bought for you, was in the end - yours. All the clothes, jewelry, bags, shoes... He made sure that it was visible how well he took care of you, and how much money he spent on you, despite the fact that you were rarely seen together in public.

- Lewis is coming in our direction. Do you need him to know anything? - you asked quietly, suspecting the driver was about to ask you to dance with him.

- I trust you. - Toto just said with a smile and kissed your hand while taking a bow, like a proper gentleman. - Perfect timing, Lewis... She's all yours. - Toto smiled and passed your hand to the other man, to which he was thanked with a slight nod.

- How is your evening going so far? - Lewis asked, gently placing his hand on your waist, just where it was proper. Over the years you managed to get to know him well enough to call him... maybe not a friend, because he knew next to nothing about you, but you still cared about him.

- Not bad... I'm not sure why Toto always complains about these types of things... - you chuckled and let him lead you in a simple, but pleasant dance.

- Well, maybe your presence is enough to make it more entertaining...? - he suggested in a joking manner, almost flirting, but not quite.

- Oh, stop it... - you pretended to be embarrassed by his words. - Besides, between all the principals and drivers there is enough drama to entertain anyone. - you added with a smile.

- And yet somehow, when you're near, everyone is on their best behavior... - he teased, and you patted him on his shoulder in a scolding manner.

- Lewis! - he just laughed it off. You knew it was all fun and games and you enjoyed that little game of pretend.

- What? It's true! - you shook your head in disbelief. - But I bet there is going to be at least one fight about who's gonna get the privilege of dancing with you next... - he pointed his chin in the direction of a group containing a few of the younger drivers discussing something very lively. You glanced at them and sighed quietly... Sometimes you couldn't believe that those boys were the best in the world in that they did because even though you weren't that far apart in age, they still seemed like children to you. - Not a fan? - he noticed that something wasn't exactly right.

- Don't get me wrong, I like them... But I also see how they look at me, and while you and I tease each other and joke, I know you understand that I belong to someone else, and you would never cross that line. They have hope. - you explained, and Lewis nodded with understanding. You knew that objectively you fit a certain set of beauty standards, especially when you were as dolled up as today, but you never considered it your defining feature. And even though it was your looks that drew Toto to you, it was the conversation you had that sealed the deal for him.

- Well, they’re still young, and don't get this wrong - so are you. - you knew that. You were a good ten years younger than your current dance partner, but age wasn't exactly something you paid attention to. - You wouldn't believe the things I've heard when he first brought you to the race...

- I can only imagine... - you chuckled because the two of you weren't exactly an obvious pair.

- But you're making it work so well, that you're raising standards for other couples... - he continued, and you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

- What can I say... He's a good one. I can't imagine being with him and not being happy... - you looked at Toto and sent him a soft smile over the crowd, which he almost immediately reciprocated.

- Last chance because I see the youngsters coming over... Do you need a rescue or are you a strong independent princess who doesn't need a knight in shining armor? - you couldn't help but laugh since he was a literal knight.

- I'm good, Sir Hamilton, but thank you. I appreciate that. - you gave him a soft smile, while he mirrored what Toto did earlier and bowed before he left.

- May I have this dance...? - you heard a familiar voice and when you turned around you saw Pierre, with a very charming smile and extended hand.

- You may... - you placed your hand in his and allowed him to pull you closer. His other hand landed a bit too low to your liking, but you weren't afraid to move it higher. - As long as you promise to behave. - you added, your tone a bit sharper than you originally intended, but he still chuckled.

- Of course, mademoiselle... - you shook your head at his choice of words because he highlighted the fact that you weren't married.

- You're on very thin ice, Pierre, thread carefully... - you warned him in a serious tone, and he immediately adjusted his attitude, sensing that if he didn't - you would simply walk away, depriving him of the privilege of your company. The rest of the dance and the conversation were peaceful and when the song ended, he didn't try to convince you to spend another one with him, instead passing your hand to Lando, who was so flustered he almost stumbled, but in the end - he came out on top.

You were able to dance with more of the drivers, and even a few Team Principals and engineers, but eventually, you needed a short break, so you went back to the Mercedes table, where Toto was absorbed in a conversation with Sebastian, but as soon as he saw you walking in his direction, he stopped whatever he was saying, and just looked at you with awe painted all over his face.

- Hey Seb! - you greeted the former Ferrari driver, who looked like someone killed his cat.

- Whoa! Y/n, you look gorgeous! - he exclaimed when he finally saw you.

- Thank you! Although I should share that compliment since I had some help with the dress... - you laughed while sitting on Toto's lap. You established some rules about public displays of affection years ago, and neither of you ever thought about breaking them. - But it's still nothing compared to Hanna's. Did she design it herself? - you asked, but you weren't looking at him; your eyes were searching the table for something non-alcoholic to drink, but you weren't sure if the thing in the pitcher was spiked. You looked at Toto, and he just passed you his glass that contained what you thought was whiskey but turned out to be apple juice. He knew your habits well.

- Yes, she did! Although for the life of me, I couldn't tell you more about it... - he was a little bit embarrassed about that, but it meant that he cared enough to understand that not knowing about a lot of your wife's passion wasn't a good thing.

- I'll find her in a moment then... - you felt a hand on your hip, gently squeezing it, and letting you know you could stay a bit longer. After all those years, you perfected non-verbal communication with Toto, which made things easier when you were in the middle of the crowd. - But tell me... - you finally looked back at Sebastian, and leaned forward, suggesting that you were about to ask something extremely serious. - How much do you want to punch Mattia in the face? - he couldn't help but laugh, and you could feel Toto shaking behind you because he didn’t expect that question either.

- Well, since we're in public, I have to say that not at all. But ask me again after. - this time you were the one to laugh, and you leaned back into the muscled torso behind you. - Ehhh... I'm gonna miss you, Y/n... - he said seriously, and you reached for his hand.

- Seb, you're not dying... And you're one of the three drivers to whom I gave my real number, so do with that information as you will. - you smiled gently. In the beginning, you were super careful not to get attached, but it was harder than you expected. Even though you didn't travel with the team, and you weren't at even half of the races, it was hard not to find at least a few friends over the years, and Seb was definitely one of the closest ones.

- I'll try to remember that... - he chuckled, but there was no actual happiness behind his eyes. - Well, I'm gonna leave you two lovebirds alone. Thanks again Y/n. - and with that, he was off.

- They truly fucked him over, didn't they...? - you asked quietly.

- They did. - you sighed and finished the apple juice that was in Toto's glass.

- Do you want to do anything else...? - you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. After almost four years of the dance you shared, it came naturally to you.

- Make Horner jealous... - he whispered, and you had to look at his face to make sure that he truly meant it because usually, he wasn't a vindictive man.

- How jealous...? - you asked, seeing that he was indeed serious.

- Furious. - there was a darkness behind his soft chocolate eyes, but you could definitely work with that.

- Ask Geri to dance with you. And make her laugh... He will try to establish dominance by either punching you in the face or asking me for a dance and being inappropriate since he's already a bit drunk. If he does the latter, wait a minute, and then maneuver Geri so she'll be able to see us but don't make it obvious. - you said in a sweet tone, and with a giant smile on your face, so anyone who looked at you would think that you were whispering sweet nothings to each other.

- Are you sure you'll be ok with that...? I wouldn't want to... - he started but you just pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

- I'll be fine, I promise. - you rose up from his lap and sat in the chair that was occupied by Vettel just a minute ago. You took out a small mirror from your clutch and pretended to reapply your lipstick when in reality you were observing what was happening behind you, and it wasn't long before you noticed the team principal of Red Bull team strutting in your direction, exactly as you predicted, so you put away both the lipstick and the mirror and let him invite you to dance with him.

The words he used weren't exactly full of charm, but that didn't matter under those specific circumstances. His hand was already lower than you wanted it to be, and you could smell the vodka on his breath, because his face was so close, but you didn’t say anything, since he was playing right into your hand.

- So, Christian, tell me, how did it... Feel... to finally have that giant constructor's trophy in your hands...? - you asked. He was so easy to manipulate… You didn't even have to try that hard. One emphasized word paired with a suggestive smile, and his hand was riding down your ass to squeeze it, but before he managed to do that, you were already reacting. - CHRISTIAN! - you screamed loud enough that you caught everyone’s attention, while his hand was still where it definitely shouldn't be. He froze like a deer in headlights, so you tore it off your body hard enough that he started to lose his balance, and you quickly followed with a strong slap in the face. You were left-handed, so at the events like those almost all the rings were on your right hand, which made the slap sting even more. - Shame on you! - you added, turned around, and pretended to just now notice Geri. She was still holding Toto's hand. You stopped in your tracks because you knew how to play your role well. You mouthed a wordless "I'm sorry" in her direction, before quickly heading toward the exit. You couldn't be sure, yet somehow you were, that Toto was also apologizing to her, and grabbing your things from the table just to follow behind you, suggesting to everyone that your evening has officially ended on a sour note. But that couldn't have been further from the truth.

- Are you ok...? - Toto asked when he caught up with you in front of the restaurant, and you sighed.

- I should have punched him... - you gave him a soft smile, while he was handing you your clutch back. - It would have hurt more because of the rings...

- But a slap was more humiliating... - he offered, gently taking your right hand into his and pressing a soft kiss to your palm that was getting warm from how hard you hit the other man, even though there was no one around now.

- Mr. Wolff, you're getting ahead of yourself... - you teased him, and he almost immediately released your hand from his grip.

- Thank you for tonight... - he smiled, but before he managed to say anything more, the valet brought his car in front of the restaurant. Toto opened the doors for you and offered you his hand so you wouldn't lose balance while getting into the car.

And as soon as he started driving, you finally shook off your mask of a perfect girlfriend and stretched the front seat of the car.

- Do you think anyone took a picture or video of what happened? - you asked, not even trying to hide the yawn. After the whole day in a lab, a flight to Monaco, and literal hours you spent getting ready for the event, it would be a miracle if you weren't tired.

- I think I saw Charles with his phone out. - Toto also relaxed more into a comfortable seat.

- Great. If it somehow leaks, I think we should be seen all happy and in love right after, so I'll keep my schedule open for the next week. - you said, reclining your seat a little bit, to find a more comfortable position. - Oh, and I should send chocolates to Geri tomorrow to express how sorry I am about what happened to really drive the punch. Can you find out where they're staying? - you asked, trying, and failing to keep your eyes open.

- I'll take care of it, don't worry. And isn't your 5th anniversary this week? Don't you have plans? - he asked, and you smiled. He was surprisingly good about remembering things about your life.

- Mhmmm... But we're not doing anything grand... Just a picnic on the roof and a whole day of mind-blowing sex. Not on the roof, just so we're clear. - you heard him laugh.

- Allow me to compensate you for the inconvenience... - you didn't even open your eyes when he said that.

- You've already paid me for tonight... And you got me this abysmally expensive and horrendous clutch that I'm never using again, just so we're clear. - you joked. Well, not about the clutch. Sure, it was a piece of art, but it looked awful.

- I don't mean money... Let me do something for your anniversary since she's already forced to share you with me. - he sighed and that finally made you open your eyes.

- First of all, she’s not forced to accept anything, she's a big girl. And I like you, hell, I even consider you a friend, but if Ellie was ever uncomfortable with what we have - I would have chosen her in a heartbeat. - you said, even though you already established it multiple times. That's why there were rules... No kissing on the mouth, no hands in inappropriate places, and no sharing of the bed.

- I apologize, I didn't mean it like that... I just feel a little bit guilty taking from her the little free time you have. - your expression softened.

- And I appreciate that. - you reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. - We're both fine with... - your phone started vibrating on the highest setting, and that only meant you got a message from one of five people. One was asleep, one was currently in the driver's seat next to you, so that left the other three. You quickly read the message and started laughing. - Well, I guess we're gonna have a date tomorrow. The video already leaked... I swear to gods, those boys will be the death of me one day... - you mumbled under your nose, reading how exactly that happened. Apparently, someone following Charles’s private account leaked the video that he posted as a story there.

- Let me see... - he asked, and you clicked on the link and passed your phone to him exactly as he stopped at the red light. - Auch! - he laughed when he saw you slapping Christian, even though it didn't compare to reality. - Can you send it to me? It will be perfect to watch on a bad day.

- Of course. - you smiled and did as he asked. - Wait a moment... - you put your hand on the stick, nudged Toto to cover it with his, and opened the camera on your phone. But before you took the picture, you put the clutch in the background and made sure that the small amount of the material of your dress was visible in the picture, which you took just as the light was turning green. You cropped it, put a light filter over it, caption it "At least someone knows where to keep their hands..." and posted it on your private profile, for all the people you knew through Toto to see. After it was posted you turned the screen in his direction, and he just chuckled.

- Perfect. So - a date tomorrow. Any specific ideas?

- A picnic. With clearly homemade things but make it super adorable. Like sandwiches cut in the shapes of flowers, strawberries cut in half so they would look like hearts, etc... And it should be somewhere outside of the city to make it look like after today we wanted to be alone. - you nestled back into the chair. You knew he would take care of everything, and that it will be perfect. By now - he trusted you enough with how your relationship was perceived that he stopped questioning your suggestions.

- How about... Not exactly outside of the city, but on Isola dei Cappuccini? It's just an hour flight away and the renovation is already done... - he proposed, and you shook your head.

- Your private island is a bit... too private. We'll need to be photographed without knowing exactly when we'll be photographed. To make everyone think that they caught a glimpse of something they weren't supposed to. - you disagreed softly, exhaustion already catching up to you.

- Ok, picnic outside of the city then. – he agreed, but you could tell that there was still something on his mind. - But... How about I'll fly Ellie in, and you can spend your anniversary there...? I could take you both to the island, so the manifest would say we're both there, but since there are 8 cottages with a good internet connection, I could just work remotely from one of them for a week or so, and be completely out your way. And since we would be the only people there, you two wouldn't have to worry about anything... Hell, I'll even cook. - he offered, and at first, you wanted to say no, because you had your research, but on the other hand... It was ages since you and Ellie did something spontaneous like that. And it was your anniversary after all...

- That would actually be lovely, thank you. - it wouldn't be the first time the three of you would be spending time together, so you knew there was nothing to be afraid of. - And just so we're clear, you really don't have to cook... You're already doing so much for us... - you added with a gentle smile, and he only shrugged.

- I honestly enjoy our arrangement... - in the beginning, you couldn't understand why a man like this wouldn't just find someone to have a real relationship with, but now you knew him well enough to know why. Although he was happy to perform and pretend in front of the public, the romance just wasn't for him, and he was kind enough not to deceive any potential partners. That's why he was happy with the clear rules, the transactional nature of your partnership, and the peace of mind that you could never develop any serious feelings for him. - I'll arrange the jet from Heathrow for tomorrow at... 10 AM? - he looked at you, making sure it would be fine.

- I'll let Ellie know. - you replied, just as he stopped in front of Ritz-Carlton, where there were two separate rooms waiting for you on the top floor. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[thelonesomequeen]

Immediately no. //

RIGHT? I can see why he's off social media. So he can say dumb shit like this unchecked. He sounds sounds prickly and defensive in more than one part of this interview. He's certainly been on a roll lately. I get that he's sick of certain aspects of fame and the industry, and truthfully people should be able to play any role they want, but the flipside of that is there are going to be opinions, favorable and otherwise. That's life.

I think Seb needs to let his publicist do the talking from now on and just focus on doing a good job on film and looking pretty in pictures. He keeps putting his foot in his mouth. Like...read the room, pal.

Between this statement and Jeremy Strong on Colbert lamenting that society "likes to mock these people (politicians)"... they aren't passing the vibe check.

This part, specifically, was so rough to me. I like Seb a lot, but that excerpt is SO out of touch with reality and what everyday people are going through and how they feel. How does he not see why people aren't jumping for joy over this movie? It's a bit baffling to me. The right believes it's a hit piece against Trump, and the left is just so fucking EXHAUSTED by Trump and the feeling of political despair. So much so that it's affecting every day life for a lot of people. Trump has single handedly torn this country to pieces by bringing out the worst in EVERYONE whether they're for or against him. The era of division that we're all currently feeling easily comes back to Trump. How many of us have looked at people we knew personally and said "wow, I didn't know this person was this shitty and felt this way about ×, y, or z until 2016/2020" when it came to beliefs and publicly saying the quiet part out loud? He and his brand of politics have ended friendships, marriages, and ruined relationships for entire families.

This is literally a movie NO ONE asked for or wanted. On either side. And I don't think there are many people in the middle here. To not understand that is really, truly something. I do understand what he was getting at when he commented on it being judged and everyone having an opinion before seeing it, but again, Seb also needs to realize where regular people are coming from in terms of Trump. People are tired and the last thing anyone wanted was more Trump in our faces.

I’m sure it’s frustrating to put a ton of mental and physical work into a role just to have the public shit on it, and part of me does feel bad for the cast and crew who seemingly put a lot of effort into this movie, but they also had to know going into it that this would be extremely polarizing. They should have prepared for blowback and negativity. If they didn't…..well. It might just be time for them to go outside and touch grass and get a dose of the type of reality regular, non famous people are dealing with lately. Outside of fangirls who will follow anything Seb does, no one is excited to see this. I won't go as far as to say the movie shouldn't have been made, but I just think it's the absolute wrong time for it right now. I think different release timing could have easily changed public perception and judgement of the movie prior to its release, though. 🦎

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

One Six Zero

Jonah knew what he'd chosen to do.

He also knew he hadn't been chosen.

Spoilers to MAG 160. It's my 160th fic, after all.

AO3

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

2018, 18th October

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself. 

For a moment, it is my voice, coming from his lips.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen. 

Of course, like all the good advice I’ve given him over the years, he doesn’t listen.

Jon. Jon, Jon, Jon… why do you resist?

You were born for this.

Born for it, even more than I—I chose my god, and though I have teased you about making your own choices, I know the difference. I chose. You were chosen. 

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist. 

My name on his lips… my true, real name. Ah!

Ah.

I grip the arms of my seat, here in the Panopticon, in this dessicated but indwelt temple. Jon. You could have been here with me, were you more wise; I, of course, will still receive the Watcher’s Crown, but that is beside the point.

It will be so much harder for you out there, in the world that we have made.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world? 

I didn’t lie. No. Not here, not in my moment of triumph. Yet hearing these words— for immortality and power, to ensure your own happiness —sobers me a bit. Yes, yes, I shall be king of a ruined world, and yes, yes, I shall never die, and those are key.

But those aren’t truly the reason, are they?

Deep down, Jon, Jon, I know you understand me. I know you feel my rage, though you do not know it is mine for it echoes yours too well. Why does a man seek to destroy the world, Jon?

Because it hates him, and so he must hate it back.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them. 

The truth comes out there, I suppose. I beat them because they deserved it. Because they hated me; because many still would, if they knew the body I’d taken, knew this sex was not mine by birth, as if any of them have the right to judge me. Ignorant, infantile, puerile little creatures, slithering through their days with puny fears and cheap desires, never knowing the true glory of being seen, never understanding how good it is to know.

To know everything. Every thought, every emotion. Every hidden little secret, tucked away in the nooks and crannies of the wretched human spirit.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own. 

How he wonders! I see him through borrowed eyes, listen to his voice—to your voice, Jon, a voice I have always liked—and again, I wish you could have been here at the end of it all.

Such a fool. A delightful, easily-led fool.

I know you were confused. My dear Jon, so neurodivergent —a term relatively new, but meaning the same thing as changeling, really. You felt things when you talked to me. You felt our singularity—and yes, I use that word correctly—for we are that point at which change becomes uncontrollable and irreversible, affecting all of civilization. 

You felt it when we spoke, away from Daisy or Basira or Tim. Felt that small and quiet place where only you and I stood, and only you and I shared experience, you and I traded feelings. Where only you and I speak this particular language. Not everyone can be a true cleric for the Eye; it is a dumb master, but both keen and gloriously cruel.

And it chose you. It chose you, over me.

For this… that’s all right. I don’t have to be marked by them all. You do.

The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race. 

I didn’t have to be terrorized by everybody. I didn’t have to be seen by every firebug and fortuneteller. But you did, didn’t you? It will be worth it. I will receive my crown, and see all; you will be… the conduit, and everyone will see you in their dreams.

Jon. Jon. Jon. If you had been here, you could have watched, too, with me.

You are a living chronicle of terror. 

I have no pity left to give you. The world stripped mine before menarche.

I watch you in my place of power. Watch you trembling, shaking; sweating heavily, rocking back and forth as if to physically hurl yourself away from the statement in your hands, but your face, Jon… your face! Eyes dilated and unblinking, lips pulled back as if in lust, dark cheeks flushed, hair (still too long for office-work, but I never gave you trouble over it) sticking to your forehead.

Jon. You are beautiful. In the way a strange, mutated frog is beautiful: unique, precious, and meant to be dissected.

I would have done, if you’d been with me here. You would have loved it here. Exposed, revealed to the Eye in ways you could never yet dream.

Oh, well. You preferred good cows.

For all your glory… your beauty, your foolish weirdness, your stubborn loveliness… you’ve made your choice, and so have I.

(And so has the Eye, but we will not think about that now.)

But it left me a gift: for sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to. 

Martin is coming. I see him, Jon; he’s smiling at the sky, and he’s taking pictures of cows on his phone for you. He loves you, you know. With all your flaws.

I comprehend him because I’ve observed him, but I don’t really understand. If you were mine, I’d burn those flaws away. But no, not him, not bumbling deceitful Martin, who smiles his way into your heart and has every intention of putting up with all your—

You are prepared. 

It’s time!

You are ready. 

Yes! Yes! My heart leaps! My own eyes fill, and tingles of raw adrenaline race through my every limb!

You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here. 

I laugh (or sob), with no one to witness, the echoes dying with only the Eye to see.

Don’t worry, John. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made. 

Yes! Jon, it’s time! It’s time! Don’t you see? This will be so beautiful!

Now. Repeat after me. 

I raise my face to the darkness of my tower, my seat rising, the tower shaking, the Panopticon wrenching through the soil of central London like a phallus through virgin flesh, and the irony of this tears more laughter from me even as I expand, change, stretch, rise into the air, and it all

Come to us in your wholeness. 

floods

Come to us in your perfection. 

tears

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes 

not the crown, I

and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns 

Jon, it’s not the Crown, it

and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies! 

I am become the Pupil of the Eye and I am lost.

Come to us. I… OPEN… THE DOOR! 

And I think

(Barely, my thoughts rise as I rise with my tower and together we pierce the world) 

I think

this

Crown was

(Jon is screaming, and he does not see how beautiful he is with the crown atop his head) 

meant for…

(Jon) 

for you.

Jon!

The world changes, rips, spills its guts into the water of reality and muddies it, impossible to ever be made clean again. I rise. I see. All.

Bliss. Floating. Smearing. All things, every heart, every fear. All of it, too much.

Jon… you should have…

(he is still still screaming) 

Come to me. You still can.

(chosen he was chosen this was meant for him)

I wish you could come to me. We are meant to torment one another for all time. We—

(the crown magnificent and terrible and shining with the light of his new eyes) 

You will come to me.

Look at the sky, Martin. Look at the sky. It’s looking back. 

I am looking back. Jon. I wait for you in the heart of the new world we have made. I wait.

Together, we will see it all.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:

Everyone reading this knows that MAGA will try to tamper with the jurors--and even the witnesses—to help Donald Trump in his criminal trial that began Monday in New York. That is why the judge presiding over the case, Juan Merchan, ordered that the names of the prospective jurors be kept anonymous citing "a likelihood of bribery, jury tampering, or of physical injury or harassment of juror(s)."  While Trump’s lawyers will be provided with the potential  juror’s names so they can research them, Judge Merchan’s partial gag order expressly bars Trump from “making or directing others to make public statements about any prospective juror or any juror in this criminal proceeding” as well as witnesses. That is something you would expect in a criminal trial for a mob boss or leader of a terrorist movement.  But then again, Trump is both a mob boss and the leader of domestic terrorist movement as the head of the violent, criminal enterprise known as MAGA.

In fact, Trump has been called the “Teflon Don” after New York mobster John Gotti who escaped criminal convictions in a few high profile cases in the 1980’s.  Those cases are instructive as to what we may see from MAGA in Trump’s current case. In Gotti’s first well-publicized criminal case in 1986, his minions threatened a witness who conveniently got a case of amnesia in the courtroom and was unable to identify Gotti as the man who robbed and assaulted him. Gotti walked. And then in Gotti’s 1987 trial, a person named George Pape was able to get on the jury by withholding information that he was a close friend of someone connected to Gotti.  Once on the jury, Pape was paid $60,000 by a Gotti intermediary to help the mobster beat the case—which Gotti did. Pape was later charged and convicted for crimes in connection with this bribe. In 1992, though, when there was neither jury nor witness tampering, Gotti was convicted of very serious felonies.

Turning to Trump’s case, on Monday we already saw clear evidence that MAGA would attempt to tamper with Trump’s jury to help him. One of the most jarring and overt attempts came from MAGA Rep. Byron Donalds who told viewers Monday on Newsmax to get on the jury and vote to acquit Trump regardless of the evidence. I’m not exaggerating. The Florida Congressman stated, “My plea is to the people of Manhattan that may sit on this trial: Please do the right thing for this country.”  He continued, “Everybody’s allowed to have their political viewpoints, but the law is supposed to be blind and no respecter of persons.” At this point, if Donalds had ended his plea by saying please follow the evidence and be guided accordingly, that would be fine. Instead, this MAGA soldier directly told the people of Manhattan who might be watching: “This is a trash case, there is no crime here, and if there is any potential for a verdict, they should vote not guilty.”

Here is a sitting member of Congress telling people who watch the pro-Trump Newsmax that if they live in Manhattan and are called to be a juror on the case, they should ignore the evidence and vote to acquit Trump. All that was missing was the $60,000 payment that Gotti offered the juror in his case. Then there was Fox News contributor Clay Travis who Monday morning—with the Trump jury selection about to begin—made an even more direct appeal to his more than one million followers on Twitter to ignore the evidence and help Trump.  Travis wrote, “If you’re a Trump supporter in New York City who is a part of the jury pool, do everything you can to get seated on the jury and then refuse to convict as a matter of principle, dooming the case via hung jury. It’s the most patriotic thing you could possibly do.”

Travis—with the line “do everything you can to get seated on the jury” -- was telling prospective jurors to follow the Gotti playbook of withholding vital information from the court of their obvious bias. Then ignore the evidence and cause a hung jury. In response to Travis’s post, Democratic Rep. Eric Swalwell—a former prosecutor—tweeted: “Jury tampering. That’s what they do. *It’s a felony.”  And National security attorney Bradley Moss  wrote on social media, “Clay is arguably conspiring to commit jury tampering here by encouraging someone to deliberately engage in jury nullification.” Those two were the most in your face attempts at jury tampering. Others, like MAGA Rep. Elise Stefanik from New York, were more subtle in trying to influence prospective jurors in her home state. On Monday she wrote on Twitter that the judge presiding over the case was “corrupt” and that this was, “A 6-8 week show trial... Total election interference.” This line of attack-- echoed by many Republicans including MAGA Senator JD Vance-- is a more subtle form of jury tampering where these elected officials are intentionally attempting to influence prospective jurors about the case before they see the evidence.

Dean Obeidallah bringing the heat on MAGA jury tamperers in the Trump business deal falsification trial.

[peachjagiya]

hi peach...

i don't know if you've heard about the scandals with deepfake porn in sk, which is really just a tip of the iceberg of many things. the state of things are horrible for women. the male population are pretty much horrible, and i know that is a generalizing statement but the statistics agree. womens position in korean society is seriously not good. and i don't want to make this about myself. but i don't know how i can continue to support bts. yes, on one hand, there is nothing that shows that these men are like that, and most things show that they are good people. and i would never even think these things about them if it werent for the things i have read. but they are also very protected, and are meant to be portrayed in positive light. i just mean, even though i feel that i can trust them, i also can't? but i don't want to judge them for things they haven't done. i don't know why i am sending this to you, i know you probably don't have the answers. but i like reading your blog and i am especially invested in tk even though i like all of bangtan. i know that we know very little. it just scares me. i know that i have to accept that we can not know for sure, but how do i continue to support them then? but my life would feel so empty without them, i don't think i could stop supporting them either because my heart does not believe these things about them. i just don't know how to justify it to myself when i read about these women suffering, i want to help and support them and if supporting male idols isn't then... i don't know. i know i probably shouldn't invest so much in these artists that i don't know, but i can't help it... if something ever came out about them, i don't think i could take it.. what are your thoughts on this, and maybe your followers too? thank you

<3

I am so sorry this has affected you this way. I think your concerns are valid - ultimately we shouldn't be placing any person we don't personally know on a pedestal, man nor woman.

The first thing my wife said to me when I said I was getting Tae tattooed on my arm was "What if he turns out to be a bad person?" and I did have a think about it. Like all I actually know him is what I value in him. That stuff isn't for nothing. I think it's very human to gravitate towards traits in people that feel familiar, help you feel seen, make you feel good, give you that dopamine. But you do need to consider there's always a possibility.

(In the end I decided to go ahead with tattoo anyway. It's not photorealistic, it's a photoshoot that represents something I've been into a lot longer than BTS, etc)

The advice I have is make their humanity your baseline. My baby army observation is that we're not very good at treating these guys like humans even when they haven't done anything wrong. We expect perfection, we expect they share their whole brain with us, we expect a lot from them that is highly unreasonable to expect.

Accepting they're human as a baseline means you're less surprised when they behave like humans who make mistakes, who are flawed and imperfect, who probably have darkness in them like everyone does. And if they should have committed a crime you find abhorrent, you're not losing the idol love of your life.. you're cutting loose a human.

Of course this is easier said than done. I fully admit BTS, especially TKK, are a huge source of dopamine for my depressed ass. If I had to cut them off for any reason, it would suck! I would be so sad. That feeling is ok too.

Think about JK R0wling. Nearly every single queer I know personally was once a Harry Potter OBSESSIVE. I know about eight lesbians with a Deathly Hallows tattoo. And she has let our community down. She has gone all in on a hate campaign against us to the point where I have gently held my gender questioning child, with a non-binary mama, by the shoulders in a shop and explained softly that I would never be buying him Harry Potter pyjamas he wanted because "the person who created this is an open and active bully." And do you know what? It's fine. My son is fine. I am fine.

If I said to the much younger Peach who idolised her that one day the sight of her would make us feel sick, much younger Peach would have been devastated and disbelieving. But you know what? It has been remarkably easy to get over it. My life is actually missing nothing as a result of getting rid of a deeply abhorrent author who was once my world.

All eight lesbians have got or are in the process of getting them covered or removed. And they're fine too.

So that's what if they HAD done something.

But the thing to remember... is that they haven't. And it's still ok to enjoy them right now! This Yoongi situation probably hasn't helped because I think I'm feeling overanxious about stuff like this too. You can only act on facts though. Half the criticism they receive online is just people making stuff up.

The Nth room stuff was wrapped up in 2020. They weren't on lists then. The new Telegram stuff is an ongoing investigation. They have not been arrested. This doesn't mean there's no way BTS have ever been involved. It just means based on the facts, we have nothing untoward to go on.

If "protected" is an indicator of maybe there's shady dealings going on, then every film, every piece of music, every TV show, every book has a connection to shady stuff. Art exists to get us through hard times, not to make things worse. That's why it sucks so much when artists DO let us down. Because they take away a piece of something we need to be happy. Music, art, film, literature.

You can't live like that, anon. You're doing the right thing by educating yourself, by believing victims, by being appalled by this. I know many people who simply don't become so affected by this stuff that they even think about it beyond the article they read and a few more who would laugh it off. You are on the right side of history. Think what your care means to people who've been abused. In a world where people do not listen to women, you're saying you hear them and you see them. That does actually mean something.

But please protect your spirit - you need to be able to sing, and look at pictures and watch films. You're not doing the wrong thing to still enjoy things right now when the world is in the dumpster. There's nothing to suggest BTS have been involved... so stick with facts.

Anxiety is ruling our collective mind at the moment, I think, and though she's helpful in small doses, Anxiety is a bitch in big doses. Letting Joy take control is not naivete. It's strength.

I don't know who you are but I am sending you so much love, anon.

💜

[howlingday]

So how about a little challenge, choose one of the following 3 songs as the theme of the writing or background music for it: 1.-NEFFEX - Careless 2.-NEFFEX- Rumors 3.-REDASH : OUR HOMETOWN [GODDESS OF VICTORY: NIKKE OST] ps: this is only if you want.

I do want, and you know what? I accept your challenge, and in reply, I say, GIVE ME ALL THREE.

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

Another Sleepless Night

Lucyna Kushinada, better known by her friends as Lucy, stared out her apartment window. Her friends... Assuming anyone else survived that night. Everything was already fucked from the start, with her getting kidnapped and held hostage while the crew charged headfirst into the shitstorm of Arasaka gunfire.

She remembered reading the news report about the "violent gangers who tried to storm Arasaka tower" and manged to be "summarily punished as to be expected." She'd read every news outlet she could on her way to the moon. Hoping, praying that someone found something that the others didn't and somebody survived.

But no, that's not what she found. They all said the same thing with different words. Rebecca is dead. David is dead. Days later, they found Kiwi dead outside a Buck-a-Slice in Arroyo. Much as she was a backstabbing and cold-hearted bitch, a part of her missed her.

But not as much as she missed David. On the moon, she swore she saw him jumping around on the moon, just like he did before. Her throat felt dry, so she left to grab a drink. Something hard enough to make her regret. But she couldn't forget.

Never. Because every day, she regretted not ripping off her helmet and dancing with him on the moon.

(NEFFEX - Careless)

===============================

Jaune Wants to F Pyrrha

People said a lot of things about Pyrrha Nikos. Some said she tall, beautiful, and perfect in every way. Some said she was Remnant's light of hope against the dark tides of the Grimm. That none could ever defeat the aptly named Invincible Girl.

And yet there was surprisingly little said about her in any negative way. Pyrrha never made any statements of her being perfect, but public response was she was being modest. The first negative thing anyone ever said about her was during her first few weeks of Beacon Academy, when her teammate, Nora Valkyrie, said she "apologized way, way, waaay too much" and "was too nice for her own good". Since then, she had been small attempts to remedy these issues, but this seemed to only fuel the already roaring flames of the perfectionist ideal people made of her. It seemed no matter what she did, she would always be perfect.

Until one day, she met a young man about her age. Her team leader, Jaune Arc, who was almost her exact opposite in every way. Nobody said a nice thing about him since his arrival, save for the few friends he'd made, and even then, they had much to say about him.

Jaune was weak, scraggly, and was inept at combat when he began attending. She could personally attest to his lacking qualities when he not only didn't have his aura unlocked, but he didn't know what aura was! But she knew better than to judge a book by it's cover and decided on the day of her initiation that he would be her partner.

Was it selfish to pick and choose who she wanted to team up with? Maybe, but it worked out in the end. Where Jaune lacked in combat strength, he made up for it in his tactical mindset, leading their team to victory. One could say he was the brains of the outfit, though his low test scores would argue that point.

Over time, though, his lacking skill became more and more evident, so he asked Pyrrha to train him. This leads us to now, on the rooftop above their dorm, where they hold their near nightly sparring matches. They had finished a mock match, sitting next to each other, hands so tantalizingly close and yet so painfully distant. He looked to her and she looked to him.

Jaune gazed into Pyrrha's eyes, and she into his. The blue sky overhead met green hills below, and she couldn't help but admire the way he looked at her. She could see... No, she could feel love and adoration glowing from him. Her heart pounded as he spoke to her.

"Pyrrha, I... I wanna ask you something." Pyrrha swallowed a lump in her throat. "And... And if you don't want to, I'd understand and respect your decision."

It was at this moment she realized where they were. They were alone, isolated from their friends, on the rooftop of the school with a night sky filled with gleaming stars and a moon nearly whole. This was a night she'd always dreamed of.

"Anything, Jaune." She answered.

"I... I wanna fight you!"

"...Come again?" She didn't hear that wrong, did she?

"I want to fight you." Jaune said, with more confidence this time.

"I... I sorr-" She stopped herself. "I mean, excuse me, but I don't understand what you mean. Didn't we finish sparring?"

"Yeah, we did, but," he looked up, to the stars that glittered high, "but I meant I want to fight you for real one day. I want to get so good, you don't have to hold back against me when we do spar."

She wouldn't argue with his statement, considering nothing he said could be seen as a lie. She was leagues above him with her years of athletic and competitive training, so of course she would have to hold back when the two sparred. A kindness she didn't often share with others, or ever in the case of the resident bully, Cardin Winchester.

"Do... Do you really mean that?" Pyrrha asked. "Do you really want to fight me?"

"Pyrrha, if I could fight you on your level, and not totally suck, I think I'd be the happiest guy who ever lived."

Giving a puff instead of a laugh, she couldn't stop smiling at him. She leaned against him, her pinkie touching his. Then, his hand slid over hers, and she felt her heart nearly explode with joy. She gave a soft sigh.

"One day... I want to fight you, too."

(NEFFEX - Rumors)

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

The Napping Bounty Hunter

Zora Salazar was a lot of things.

First off, she hates epithets and whatever criminals she hunts down using them gets an extra crack in the jaw. Two of 'em if they're really going on and on about how their supposed "magic superpower" automatically means they win.

Second, she herself is Inscribed, and her epithet was, is, and will be broken. Helped make her bounty hunting easier, sure, but she rarely used when she was tracking. Not unless someone gives her a reason, like ticking her off in a way similar to the previous paragraph. Still, her epithet was definitely the strongest she'd seen yet.

Third, she's a bit of a romantic. Not exactly like the loved-dovey, kissy face, "I'd die for you" kinda romantic. More of a "two men enter, one man leaves, and they're both best friends, and they're giving it their all and also there's a sunset shining behind them" sort of romantic. She loved the thrill of the fight, the sweat that beads down from giving your all, and chase and satisfaction of reaching the top.

Fourth, she really loves-

"HEY!" A voice belowed.

Zora tapped her hat up from her comfy lie down against the tree. And she JUST got comfy.

The bellowing came from a familiar face, but not one she could name. Some guy from a gang she busted a few days ago. She would've brought him in, but he was already running out the back door when she zeroed in on his boss.

"You n' me got a score to settle!"

"No, we don't." Zora put her hat back on her face. Great, now she has to get comfy again.

"Yes, we do!"

"Nuh-uh."

"WHAT YOU MEAN NUH-UH?!"

"I mean. Nuh. Uh." She grumbled loudly. "Means whatever beef you got with me goes to a different butcher. Do I look like a butcher?"

"She looks like a cowboy." A small voice said behind annoying big guy.

"Nah, I'd say she's more of a desperado." Another voice said.

"You only know that word because you watched one western movie!"

"And it was a good one!"

Maybe a movie would would help her sleep. If she was real quiet, she could sneak inside and take a nap in a comfier seat than this tree. I mean, the tree was comfy if you got in the right spot, but-

"HEY! QUIT STARIN' AT THE SKY!" He huffed. "You're being so rude! We drove all the way out here in my brand new car just so we could make you pay for putting our boss in jail!"

"Listen," Zora said after letting out a deep breath, "I'm willin to let this go for interruptin my nap. So get back in your car while you still can."

"Oh, I don't think so!" Suddenly, Zora felt a hand grab her by her poncho. Of course this loudmouth had an epithet. All loudmouths do. "I'm gonna-"

"Let go."

"Wha?"

Zora glared at him with cold, baneful eyes. "LET GO, OR ELSE."

"Or else what?" He sneered. Oh, she was so hoping he'd say that.

With a grin and an iron grip, she squeezed his hand. Slowly, it started to bulge before shrinking, smaller and smaller until all that was left was emaciated, bony hand. With a groan, he let go, wheezing as he stared at his wizened fingers.

"Wh... Wha dih you do to muh bodeh..." Losing his teeth didn't make him easier to understand, but Zora was well versed in gum linguistics.

"Or else." She said, turning away. "Enjoy the walk home, old man."

"Uh, but we drove."

"I know." Faster than anyone else could react, she whipped out her gun and fired a bullet into the engine of the car. Rust creeps as paint peels, the car slowly sinking to the ground as it's tires deflated. The glass of the car slipped free, shattering as it fell inside. "But you're walkin' now."

(REDASH - Our Hometown)

_________________________________________

[velvetgoldie]

On Captain Jas. Hook’s timeline: a trick of narration and metatextuality

To most, Captain Hook is, and always will be, Peter Pan’s greatest foe; but that would be without taking into account James Matthew Barrie’s lifework: fleshing out what remains to be his most thorough character.

Sixteen years after the publication of the 1911 novel of Peter Pan, and twenty-three years after the first apparition of the eponymous character on stage, it was not the boy who couldn’t grow up who was chosen to be the center of Barrie’s speech at Eton; neither was it Wendy Darling - by many accounts the true hero of the story. Instead, Eton’s provost sent the following prompt to the revered author: “James Hook, the pirate captain, was a great Etonian, but not a good one”. It was the author’s role to refute this statement; which he did, and magnificently so. But what we learn from this speech seems contradictory from what had been established from the novel... Unless you study it by taking into account Barrie’s chief characteristic as an author: he is, and is remembered as, a wonderful storyteller.

Barrie’s style in Peter Pan (1911) is remarkable as he constantly steps away from his role as a narrator and reveals his hand in spinning the story as its author. For instance, in chapter 5, the narrator/author placidly remarks:

“Let us now kill a pirate, to show Hook's method. Skylights will do.”

We switch from description to action as the narrator dictates; and as such, the narrator shows that he is not only narrating, but also choosing how the story goes along. This kind of storytelling is traditionally used orally; here, it feels as though the written text is alive, being spoken as we read. Funnily enough, this kind of narration isn’t confusing for children at all; instead, it reinforces the fictional aspect of it all. The children reading musn’t fear for Peter or Wendy or the Lost Boys; for it remains, after all, a story.

But is Barrie only using metatextual tools to reassure the children? A closer look at the text shows otherwise.

It’s one thing to write the story as though it were told orally; it is another to create doubt in the mind of the reader by slipping in-and-out the diegesis. Often, the author relates the events as though they had been shared with him by someone else; to keep in mind the fifth chapter of the book, we can read:

“I have been told that he [Captain Hook] was a raconteur...”

And this recurrent use of “being told”, “having heard”, etc., suddenly fleshes out this fantastical world, by connecting it to the seemingly actual life of the author. Not only does Barrie tell and shape the story to his will, but he seemingly takes elements from his friends, acquaintances, and other faceless and nameless figures that only serve to give credit to his story.

This fascinating blur between real and the fake has also been manipulated by other great authors to the destination of children: one of the most famous examples might be none other than “Lemony Snicket” of the Unfortunate Events series. And there might have been some inspiration from Barrie when writing the thirteen mystery books; for Barrie often appears as an investigator himself.

Indeed, his 1927 lecture is not only a reply to the prompt given to him a month prior, but an investigation; as Brian Till puts it in his article “The Secret History of Captain Hook”, 

“Barrie takes the tone of an investigative reporter or prosecutor-judge, dutifully presenting the facts he has found.”

In his speech, and in order to “prove his case”, Barrie presents not fiction, but facts - heard from acquaintances and friends. Barrie mentions names as one would call witnesses to the bar: Mr. Jasparin, or Hook’s Aunt Emily, provide accounts which have to be taken for granted. It becomes difficult to keep in mind it is all fiction, as James Matthew Barrie remains ambiguous of what his actual role might be: both author, narrator, investigator, and witness.

Allow us, after having presented our facts, to round them up with the actual question at hand: what is Captain Hook’s actual timeline? This question might be asked by whoever read both the novel and Barrie’s lecture. Indeed, if one takes into account the novel, Hook is a contemporary of Stevenson’s Long John Silver (the “Sea-Cook”); thus, an 18th century-pirate. However, if one takes into account the latest additions Barrie made with his Eton speech, Hook is a contemporary of Barrie; thus, a 19th century pirate. It is known that only Peter Pan remains forever young; his Lost Boys grow up and are replaced by others. Therefore, it is out of the question to consider that Hook managed to live for over a hundred years.

So while both descriptions can be considered canon, which is actually real?

The following extract is from Hook’s description in the novel:

“In the midst of them, the blackest and largest in that dark setting, reclined James Hook, or as he wrote himself, Jas. Hook, of whom it is said he was the only man that the Sea-Cook feared. [...] In manner, something of the grand seigneur still clung to him, so that he even ripped you up with an air, and I have been told that he was a raconteur of repute. [...] A man of indomitable courage, it was said that the only thing he shied at was the sight of his own blood, which was thick and of an unusual colour. In dress he somewhat aped the attire associated with the name of Charles II, having heard it said in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts...”

What transpires from this entire description are the many marks of hearsays (which have reached both Barrie’s ears and, more interestingly, Hook’s). “Of whom it is said...”, “I have been told...”, “it was said...”, “having heard it said...”; all these are proofs that none of these descriptions come from first-hand accounts.

These second-hand accounts somehow differ from the accounts given in Barrie’s lecture at Eton in 1927; in the novel, Aunt Emily or Mr. Jasparin are nowhere to be found - which also means there are no “reliable” sources for these comments on Hook’s character. In the novel, these comments remain sourceless - thus, vague and unreliable. While Barrie turns himself into an investigator for his Eton speech, his intention isn’t the same with the Peter Pan novel. The novel is destined for children, and as such, it makes sure the children feel impressed by the main foe of the novel. In order to accomplish that, it creates a villainous (and by extension, mysterious) aura to wrap around Hook’s shoulders: what can be more impressive than the man itself, if not the man’s reputation?

Therefore, while the most plausible, but perhaps not the most satisfying, reply to the question is saying that Barrie hadn’t planned to make a lecture about Hook more than twenty years after his first apparition (which explains the time difference between both descriptions), one can offer an alternative.

Captain James Hook might very well be a 19th century Etonian who happened to stumble into piracy and chose to contribute to his fearsome reputation by encouraging, if not starting himself, rumors about his encounters with fantastical 18th century pirates such as Long-John Silver. After all, isn’t Hook known to be a talented “raconteur” himself? As a storyteller, Hook has the capacity to re-invent himself; we know that even his appearance is fashioned after that of 17th century English King Charles II, blurring the timeline even further. By incarnating the very idea of a timeless pirate, deliberately mixing elements from three different centuries, Hook conceals himself from his own mortality - even if, in the end, it isn’t enough to avoid his fate.

The similarities between James Hook and James Barrie are many, and most certainly not fortuitous; these resemblances might culminate in their capacity to spin a story to their will, as Hook chooses to reshape his own image, while Barrie reshapes Hook. In the end, it is difficult to understand where one begins and where one ends; the only thing that remains certain, is that there is still many a mystery left within the intricate text that a peculiar storyteller left us with.

[giant-bean]

Evil vs Evil?

Lets break down the comment about not voting because the only choice is evil vs evil. We will look at just a few points but the first one seems to be what people are stuck up on. I want to point out a few other issues and be as unbiased as I can though I know I will fail to be all that unbiased.

Israel-Palestine Issue:

Trump: Pros: (as republicans see it)

Strongly supported Israel, moving the U.S. embassy to Jerusalem.

Brokered peace deals between Israel and some Arab states, known as the Abraham Accords. (Mostly about tourism leading to improved relations between multiple nations. Did not include Palestine)

Supported Israel's right to defend itself against Hamas attacks. (Not really a pro but he sees it as one and that is not surprising as a New Yorker who saw what happened on 911 and supported our military response) In regards to Israel and Palestine he Said (paraphrased) in an interview that Israel needs to hurry up and get the job done and should stop filming what they are doing as its bad for PR. Not that what they are doing is bad but that they should do it quicker and quietly.

Cons:

Criticized for unilateral support for Israel without adequately addressing Palestinian concerns.

His administration's peace plan heavily favored Israel's interests, neglecting Palestinian aspirations.

Handling of Gaza crisis was seen as one-sided, contributing to heightened tensions.

Biden: Pros:

Reaffirmed commitment to a two-state solution for Israel-Palestine conflict.

Resumed aid to Palestinians, including humanitarian assistance to Gaza.

Expressed support for Israel's right to defend itself while advocating for de-escalation. (Of course he defended their rights how else would we justify our reaction to 911 without being hypocrites) Edit as @ifwerefree made an excellent point in the comment about me foolishly calling this a pro: Clearly this is really not a pro but both Trump and Biden see this as a pro in their own mind and this is the root of why the two are seen as equally evil despite one clearly being a much worse choice. Anyway just keep reading as voting is really not about just these two men and this one issue.

Cons:

Initially faced criticism for not immediately calling for a ceasefire during the Gaza crisis.

Some argue his approach lacks the assertiveness needed to address the root causes of the conflict. More importantly he has not stopped the flow of US arms into Israel.

Pressure from the progressive wing of the Democratic Party for a more critical stance towards Israel. While being beholden to Congressional decisions made by Republican party members.

War in Ukraine:

Trump: Pros:

Provided lethal aid to Ukraine, including anti-tank missiles, to counter Russian aggression.

Imposed sanctions on Russia for its annexation of Crimea and support for separatists in eastern Ukraine.

Engaged in diplomatic efforts to resolve the conflict, including meetings with Ukrainian leaders.

Cons:

Faced criticism for his relationship with Russian President Vladimir Putin, leading to questions about his commitment to countering Russian aggression.

Allegations of withholding aid to Ukraine for personal political gain, leading to his impeachment.

Inconsistencies in his statements regarding U.S. support for Ukraine.

Biden: Pros:

Maintained and expanded sanctions on Russia for its actions in Ukraine.

Provided additional military aid to Ukraine, including anti-tank missiles and fighter jets.

Supported Ukraine's territorial integrity and sovereignty, condemning Russian aggression.

Cons:

Some argue his response to Russian aggression has been insufficiently robust.

Criticism for not taking more aggressive actions against Russia, such as providing fighter jets. (Nuclear war was threatened if he did.)

Concerns about potential concessions to Russia in pursuit of broader diplomatic goals.

Overall Policies and Impact:

Trump: Pros:

Implemented tax cuts and deregulation, which some argue stimulated economic growth.

Appointed conservative judges, including three Supreme Court justices, reshaping the judiciary. (If you see that as a pro. It did lead to the overturning of row v wade and has had continues far right effects on policy that will effect generations.)

Focused on reducing illegal immigration and strengthening border security. (I have a hard time leaving bias alone here as the draconian methods used could also be seen as a con)

Cons:

Polarizing rhetoric and policies exacerbated divisions within American society.

Criticism for mishandling the COVID-19 pandemic, leading to significant loss of life.

Undermined democratic norms and institutions, including attempts to overturn election results.

Biden: Pros:

Prioritized tackling the COVID-19 pandemic, including vaccine distribution and economic relief.

Advocated for infrastructure investment and climate action through initiatives like the Build Back Better plan.

Emphasized unity and bipartisanship in addressing national challenges.

Cons:

Faces challenges in implementing ambitious policy agenda due to partisan gridlock. (Reducing medical costs, reducing prescription costs, forgiving student debt to stimulate the economy, fighting sexism, racism and classism in America have all been fought against while he is criticized for not doing more for other nations.)

Some concerns about the economic impact of proposed spending and taxation policies. (No doubt these policies have lead to inflation a they target the symptom instead of the cause)

Pressure from progressive and conservative factions within the Democratic Party may complicate decision-making. A political parties perceived power does not always mean control and at the moment there is a balance that could be easily tipped as the majority fail to vote locally and in national elections. And we could go on to talk about Trumps Project 2025 and its anti LGBTQA+ stance as well as its anti workers rights laws, government policy for shutting down dissent and conscientious objectors among other plans to destabilize democracy vs Biden's plan to "finish the job" of increasing civil rights, voter protection, child care, community collage and prescription drug access, infrastructure growth and returning jobs such as chip manufacturing to the US. Biden is working within checks and balances to pass what he can while opposed by Congress while Trump wants to destroy checks and balances to accomplish his goals without the oversight of the House Representatives. Look at the supreme court nomination from 2016 compared to 2020 as congress blocked Obama for 7 months and allowed Trump to nominate in his last two months. Even if you still think Biden is equally evil to Trump your not just voting for one man. Your voting for a system of government to remain a democracy or become (at best) an Aristocracy.

[spanishskulduggery]

One of the examples in the lesson also says "Él esta trayendo a un amigo." But I don't see anywhere where traer normally works with "a" and when I plug "He is bringing a friend" into the translator, it doesn't include the "a". Is there something going on here? Also, now that I think about it, unless the friend is literally with him at that moment on the way to wherever, wouldn't this just be "el presente": "Él trae un amigo"?

In this case it depends. The a is considered technically more correct

When your direct object is a person/animate object (or sometimes a personified object), you also add a - it denotes personhood, so it's commonly called "personal a"

Some examples:

dar de comer al perro = to feed the dog [lit. "to give of food/feeding to the dog] No debes juzgar a los demás. = You shouldn't judge others. Siempre ayudan a la gente. = They always help people. Siempre rescatan a la gente. = They always rescue people. Siempre salvan a la gente. = They always save people. La Biblia dice que debemos perdonar a nuestros enemigos. = The Bible says we should forgive our enemies. Conocimos a mucha gente. = We met a lot of people. Cuido a los niños. = I take care of children. Cuido a los animales. = I take care of animals. Cuido a los ancianos. = I take care of the elderly. Cuido a los demás. = I take care of others. Cuido a mi pareja. = I take care of my partner. Cuido a mi marido. = I take care of my husband. Cuido a mi mujer. = I take care of my wife. Cuido a mis abuelos. = I take care of my grandparents. Cuido a mis hijos/hijas. = I take care of my children.

...And so on. That a is that personal a

There are times when a gets used with certain verbs, but that's a separate thing - though you will see things like llegar a conocer a otros "to come to know others", where llegar a is "to come to + infinitive", while conocer "to know/meet" is a verb that takes a with animate objects

The personal a is considered the most correct and it is preferable that you use it, but just know that if you do miss it, it's not like it changes things so much that people don't understand you. In anything official like writing or reading, they will use the personal a. So I'm not saying it's not important, but just know you aren't being misunderstood because you miss a particle here

[I will say that there are a handful of verbs where changing the preposition will change the meaning - as an example vengar a alguien is "to avenge someone"; while vengarse de alguien is "to take revenge on someone"... so if you're trying to do something for someone who was wronged, you see the a... but if you're trying to punish the person responsible it's reflexive and uses de]

It can be a bit confusing for non-native speakers to come to understand what verbs would use it and which ones maybe don't; and I still struggle with it every so often

-

As far as trae vs. está trayendo it's a matter of preference/style here

But first some basic things

First, you're right trae can be used in place of está trayendo

Second, trayendo is a form of traer called gerundio which is like "gerund/progressive", or the -ing form of a verb... most end in -ando or -iendo, traer is a bit weirder in that it ends in -yendo

...

Now this goes back to the first point - present tense has three general functions: regular declarative statements, present continuous, and short-term future

Meaning that trae could be interpreted as "brings", "is bringing", or "plans to bring / will bring (shortly)"

The gerundio form is ALWAYS continuous and implies movement or continuous motion, usually used with estar or a verb of motion

Simply put trae can be "brings" OR "is bringing"

But está trayendo is ONLY "is bringing"

...Whichever one you choose is up to you, to me the use of gerundio feels more like immediate motion like "currently"

[Also gerundio can be used in other tenses - estaba trayendo "was bringing", estará trayendo "will be bringing" etc. which could be used instead of traía "was bringing" or traerá "will bring"]

[lunarthing159]

Pyrite Prisms

|

A Fanfiction I've Made For The WitchCraftSMP Gemcyt I Have Been Making For The Past Several Weeks, Written Without My Usual Typing Style As To Make Reading Easier.

<>

Main Character(s): Prismarina

Word Count: 3,531

“Lapis Lazuli, Facet-18, Cut-PM2, Welcome!”

Lapis Lazuli opened her eyes for the first time, the barren walls of the kindergarden surrounding the new gem. Her entrance was just barely off the ground, allowing her to more easily catch her first footings. In front of her were three more Lapis Lazuli gems. One with long dark blue hair with a stomach gem, another with lighter & shorter dark blue hair & a gem on their right shoulder, and the third with light blue hair tied up into a neat bun with their gem situated on their forehead.

All of their gems shone a brilliant deep blue, like that of a vast ocean. Her own, which situated neatly on her collar just above her chest, was an odd yellow-gold color. It sparkled all the same as the others, but the color was off.

“That's odd.” She heard one of them speak as she was looking down at her gem, looking up to see it was the long-haired lapis. “I've never seen a Yellow Lapis Lazuli before.” They would comment before turning their head to their fellow lapis lazulis, though their eyes still seemed fixated on her gem.

The lighter-haired lapis would speak up next. “Lapis Lazuli can naturally have calcite and pyrite Inclusions, from what I can see, she simply seems to have more pyrite in her gem. Nothing else of her seems that yellow other than her eyes, everything else is the traditional blue.” She explained with a serious tone, though not a strict or rude one.

After the explanation, the shorter-haired lapis would walk up to her and extend a hand. “It's nice to meet you! I'm Facet-18 Cut-PC3!” Judging by the voice, this was the same lapis that welcomed her a few moments ago.

Copying the hand movement, Lapis Cut-PM2 Extended her own hand and shook the other's “It is nice to meet you too?” She said, unsure of her own statement. It took her another moment to realize that was the first thing she's ever said, though the other lapis gems seemed to pay this fact no attention.

No later than a few seconds after she'd thought that, a horn sound echoed throughout the kindergarden. “That's our cue!” The short-haired lapis spoke, turning back to PM2 as they'd looked towards the sound as it was playing. PC3 elaborated, “You were a bit of a late cooker, so us and a few others stayed down here till you emerged! That horn means everyone's out! It's time to get to work!”

Just as they finished that statement, PC3 ran off to the other lapis lazulis, each sprouting wings of water from their backs. “Come on newbie!” The long-haired Lapis shouted to her, flying upwards from the cavern with the others, every lapis around her doing the same. Each with their own wings, each flying off towards their first assignment, their purpose.

She wanted to join them, she wanted to fly with them, explore the vast waters of this planet with them, fulfill her purpose with them. Yet try as she may, she still stood on the ground. She reached a hand up to the sky, as if that would help, as if to call for help. But it didn't work, she remained on the ground, no wings to be seen.

And so they all flew away, leaving the freshly emerged Lapis alone in the kindergarden. 

As much as she wanted to fly, deep down she knew she was grounded. Only thing left to do now is keep walking.

All the other lapis gems have already flown away, none checking to see if there were stragglers like her. It was getting dark out, and the newly emerged lapis had no clue what this planet could do. She needed to keep walking and find a place to reside, a place to stay while figuring out her next move.

She traversed the vast caverns of the kindergarden, paying little mind to the puddles, presumably tests from when other new lapis lazulis were figuring out their powers. Powers she clearly didn't get. Yet even as she walked along the empty ravine, she still tried to summon her wings, she still tried to fly. Alas, she soon came to accept her situation.

Despite this, she longed to survive with whatever life has given her. So she kept walking. And thankfully, just as storm clouds began to rumble overhead, she found an entrance point. The gem was likely a fellow lapis seeing as she wasn't far from her own entrance, but the gem itself, much like the others, has presumably already flown away. This lapis, from what she can tell, was likely a bit taller than herself, allowing PM2 to more easily make her way into the wall.

It is here she resigned to simply sit down, just as the beginning sprinkles of rain began to descend upon the rock.

Despite the fact she had taken cover, for a moment, she could pretend her tears were just rain droplets pouring down her face

<>

Gems didn't need to sleep, or eat, or many other things more organic life forms did. Either to survive, or to thrive. Yet PM2 found herself enjoying sleeping away the time, the sound of rain outside her shelter, as much as it reminded her of her situation, was calming all the same.

It was in these moments, she finally had time to think for herself. No matter her circumstances, no matter the other gems she met earlier, and regardless of the fact she only emerged likely a few hours ago.. she finally had time to think. She stretched a hand along the barren rock walls, feeling every bit of loose gravel and stone. It was a simple sensation, but it gave her a sense of reality. She appreciated it.

Lapis Lazuli did not dream, she had nothing to dream of.

And yet, it was all the more noticeable that, when the rain outside came to a cease, her eyes opened the moment the last raindrop fell. Glancing outside, it was now much darker out, barely anything visible in the golden purple glow. The puddles made themselves known however.

Moving slightly more towards the entrance, a puddle awaited her at the doorway. For the first time, she saw her own reflection.

PM2 had medium length light blue hair that let itself flow freely downwards, almost like a combination of all the hairstyles of the lapis lazulis she had met earlier. Particularly, one of her front bangs seemed to like getting in the way of her left eye. Her eyes shone that same off-gold color of her gem, which she'd already learned set gently on her collar, just above her chest.

Standing up, PM2 saw even more of herself reflected. She would appear initially to be wearing a crop top with short off-the-shoulder sleeves, however her lower dress connected to the top just below her chest. Turning around, she saw the dress split in two at the back end, even darkening in hue to make two diamond shapes at the points. She also appeared to be wearing long dark blue tights that went the whole way along her legs.

She is unsure how much time she spent looking at her reflection, however, something seemed to sparkle in the water. Something not of her.

She kneeled down to investigate, reaching a hand into the puddle, then moving it to the sparkles. Yet try as she might, she couldn't grab them. It's as if it's not a part of the puddle at all, not in the water at all.. a reflection.

And that is when she looked up.

She looked up to the sky, and saw millions upon billions of sparkles looking down to her. Some hues of white, other hues of light gold. Some parts of the sky were blue, other's purple, some green, some even almost seemed red. Each part with their own sparkles, big and small, each section with its own swirling colors.

This was the night sky. This was space. Those were stars. Those are planets.

Just like the one she sits on now.

Non-organic as she may be, Lapis Lazuli was alive.

<>

It had been a few days since PM2's emergence. At least from what she could tell. Did this planet tell it's time using a star and moon? How long did it take for this planet to rotate? She was unsure. Regardless, she would classify it as being a few days.

As much as she still longed to explore, she could not scale the walls of the kindergarden, nor had she managed to summon her wings. She'd be lying if she said she'd stopped trying. As much as she keeps learning again and again she doesn't have those powers, her eyes still gleam with hope through the reflection of every puddle stuck down in this cavern.

Even so, she tried to make a home out of the holes in the stone walls. While she could only reach the ones on the ground floor, she made sure to use every inch she could for storage, whatever she could find to store anyways. Mostly forgotten injector parts, occasionally a particularly cool rock, sometimes she found rocks shaped like bowls which she kept more rainwater in. For what, she could not answer.

Water seemed to collect easily in the cavern itself, the planet rained often enough that Lapis was sure the kindergarden would one day fill up with water. That would be her escape.

A bit of water had already pooled down at the bottom, to the point where areas without a bit of water seemed more like little islands rather than a stone floor filled with puddles. It wasn't much, but it was hope. That's all Lapis needed.

Even so, regardless of her hope, her planned future would soon shift in a way she could never imagine, for worse, or possibly for the better.

Footsteps.

Footsteps echoed through the vast walls of the kindergarden, stopping Lapis right in her tracks. She was just going to collect some of the stone bowls she'd set out earlier for the previous storm, but hearing footsteps among the myriad of puddles froze her still.

“I knew we'd find at least one of your kind here.”

Turning around met Lapis with another gem she'd never seen before. A gem with a dark purple skin, with an even darker purple coloring her short curly hair, and a gem situated right on her left elbow. The gem was much taller and bulkier than herself, and along her chest, front and center was the Blue Diamond symbol, affirming this gem was of the same diamond court as herself.

Yet even with her analysis, Lapis was stopped right in her tracks. Thankfully for her own mind at the time, she found the willpower to speak. “Who are you?” A simple question.

“Lace-Amethyst Facet-210 Cut-48CG, I've been sent out here along with some others to see if there are any stragglers, off-colors, or deserters. Like yourself it would seem. Now who are you?”

Against her better judgment, she answered, “Lapis-Lazuli, Facet-18 Cut-PM2.” As she spoke, by a muscle memory she'd yet to uphold, she crossed her hands into the diamond salute. Her hands perfectly framed her gem, the tips of her fingers grazing its peak.

“Well hello then PM2.” The amethyst smirked and reached into her gem with her other hand, pulling it out to reveal a longsword. “I'll be sure to report that back to our superior when I deliver your gem's shards to them.”

It was this line that broke Lapis free from her stance, beginning to try and run away from her now pursuer. “And where do you think you are going?” Lapis didn't know, she just had to get away.

She ran and ran, farther and farther away from her settlement, the amethyst keeping up with her pace. Was she trying to outrun her.. or outlast her? Either way, Amethyst was winning. She didn't recognize the walls around her anymore, she didn't know which ways she was turning or how many times. She didn't know, nor did she care. She had to keep running-

A corner-

She ran right into a corner, the edge of a ravine. She wanted to stop. Stop and call herself out on her stupidity, but there was no time for that.

Not like she had much time left.

The amethyst smirked as she caught up to Lapis. “I must admit, you ran a lot farther than your form would imply you could. But that won't save you from your fate.” The amethyst stepped closer and closer as she spoke, steadying her longsword so it was pointing directly at Lapis as she walked.

“Don't worry,” Amethyst raised the sword,

“I'll make it quick.”

. . .

Lapis reached her hand out, a pitiful attempt to block whatever blow was awaiting her. Time seemed to slow as tears swirled down her face, forming patterns like ripples on the oven's surface.

Suddenly the puddles that used to stay firmly on the stone floor sprung upwards, bubbles arriving through the air from far and wide, all forming together to create a wave to push the amethyst to the side. The water then returned to swirl at PM2's side, completely under her command.

“What!? What is this?” The amethyst shouted, trying to regain her footing only to be met with a slippery stone floor that knocked her right back down again.

This was her chance! She could fight back!

And yet, seeing the water surrounding her.. it gave Lapis Lazuli a better idea. She could stay here and enact revenge.. But that would keep her down here, And thinking logically, this amethyst probably wasn't sent alone. Considering the ruckus her water-siphoning probably caused, it most likely won't be long until backup arrives.

Her best option then is to flee.

And so, she encased herself into a bubble of water. And finally, with wings or without, ascended to the planet surface. From there, she dropped the rest of the water back into the kindergarden.. and then just..

Stared.

There was nothing up here. No forests, no fields, no life, yet not even death. It was just as empty as the caverns.

Yet even still, she ran.

<>

It was hard to find a new place after everything. The almost constant rain, the threat of discovery, and the same barren landscape for miles didn't leave her with much hope. But hey, at least she's out of the ravines. That is proof enough that her hope will get her somewhere, somehow, someday or night.

As this all began with, Lapis Lazuli kept walking.

The empty landscape and nothing but the wind and her footsteps in puddles for sound tried to deter her. Nevertheless, they persisted. Just keep walking. Just. Keep. Walking.

And at some point, someday, her walking finally paid off. Forest. A simple forest sat still in front of her. Flowers bloomed along the underbrush. Trees, while were without leaves along the edges, visually thrived farther in as their leaves shone like emerald and all the bark was covered in vines and mushrooms thriving alongside them. She could hear the thrills of various wildlife, scurrying around and hunting as they should.

Life

Lapis Lazuli found Life.

PM2 never truly paid attention to their expressions, emotions sure, but there was none but her to feel her own face. Yet even so, it was all the more noticeable when a wide smile spread across her face, then morphing into a grin as it grew.

With her new discovery, curiosity, and joy, Lapis ran into the forest.

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It had been a few day cycles since Lapis discovered the forest.

Adjusting to organic life proved to be more difficult than Lapis originally thought. She had strived to see what life truly was outside the kindergarden, then again when she saw the barren landscape before. Yet she still had much to learn.

Some life was hostile, other's more passive, most usually scared. Fight or flight is a powerful thing it seems. Some life was soft, some scaly, some smooth, and some prickly. This applies to both flora and animals. Some creatures and plants mimicked others of their own, or even each other! And some life, regardless of what it was, could not be explained.

Lapis Lazuli loved all of it.

Lapis dared not to stay in one place, if not for the sake of experiencing more of the forest's life, then to keep running from that amethyst guard. What was their cut? PM2 could not recall. She hoped she would never have to remember it. She hoped to never see them again.

And then, Lapis Lazuli came across something. Something that would change the course of her life. Something that, perhaps if used right, could increase her chances of never seeing that amethyst again. Something that could possibly save her from the very system that has deemed her faulty in the first place.

A ship.

A crashed spaceship.

A crashed spaceship that, with a quick analysis, showed no visual sign of disrepair and even had an intact fuel tank. Lapis cautiously approached the ship and, upon closer Inspection, there was even a fair amount of fuel left in the ship.

Lapis couldn't believe it, she really couldn't. What was a forgotten spaceship doing in the middle of a-

In the middle of her thoughts, she spotted a symbol on the ship itself, something that would answer her thoughts. This was a ship under the court of Blue Diamond, specifically a soldier ship.

Some knowledge was innate to gems, including recognizing their own kin and Information on some parts of society. This includes stuff like this. Furthermore, amethyst are laborers, workers, and soldiers. And, if she is remembering this correctly, Lace Amethyst was wearing the signature of Blue Diamond. This was their ship! This was their landing site! They traveled to the kindergarden from here!

And Lapis couldn't help but notice they left their ship unattended. Now, did Lapis innately know how to pilot a ship? No, absolutely not. But this was quite possibly her only way out. As she'd done this whole time, just keep walking.. or in this case learn how to fly a spaceship, preferably very quickly, and then just keep flying.

So that is what she decided to do. Thankfully, a door was still open presumably from when the amethyst's first set off to the kindergarden. In fact, it took more effort to close the door after she'd entered the ship. Walking to the control panels, some buttons along the side had been ruined, but they didn't seem to be anything major from what Lapis could tell. Everything else seemed to be in classical condition. This could work! Lapis could-

A voice.

A voice echoed throughout the forest, seemingly only amplified by the surrounding trees to bounce the sound from. It had come from the same direction that Lapis had stumbled across the ship from, which immediately heightened her worries. Had they found her? Or were they just now coming back to their ship and about to find her? Either way, she had to get out.

Frantically pressing whatever buttons seemed important, Lapis tried to get the ship off the ground. Even as the voice got closer and louder, Lapis would not waver. She was getting off this planet. She was going to make sure of that. To where, she would have to figure out later. Finally, the engines at the bottom and back of the ship flared, and the ship slowly began rising out of the dirt and into the air.

She saw the gem in her peripheral vision, but she dared not to face them. She guided her hand to a screen that appeared before her, setting a coordinate to fly the ship to.. before finally sitting back.. and flying away.

Leaving a fellow Lapis Lazuli behind.

As Lapis entered the realm of space, seeing the ‘sparkles’ as the stars they truly were, she couldn't help but begin to think. She doesn't know who was there, but the only other gems she'd met were other Lapis Lazulis.. and that Lace Amethyst. She figured, since she'd taken so long to get to the ship, she wouldn't be surprised if that was them arriving back to the stolen ship. Actually, it was definitely them. Because what other gems would be here? She was left behind due to her deformity and they were sent to find her.

Yet even as she'd escaped the planet, she still didn't know where to go. At least there, there was a visual of somewhere to run to. Here, it's just stars upon stars, planets among planets, moons of moons, and whatever else was around. There was nothing she could define, especially not from this far away.

But she had to keep going. There was an entire group of gems set out to find her, meaning there has to be others that have been found before. And, as shown by her own accomplishments, there had to be other gems like her that have escaped. There has to be a place for them. For her.

She just has to find it.

No matter how long it takes.