#set those twinks on each other like dogs

[mxescargot]

paulfeyd nasty bitey makeouts NOWWW

[terras-diary]

game review - final fantasy xvi

some context: the only thing i knew about this game was it had a medieval setting. literally did not bother to look up anything about it, i kind of got the feeling there wasn’t much out there to begin with. 

the story: the world and lore of ff16 is interesting. the idea that the crystals were bad and causing environmental problems, even though in the short term they helped society so much, you could tell it was a comparison to our world. similar to the whole environmental overlords and their private pinkerton army which was final fantasy 7. but how the story and game progression actually played out? well that’s kind of a different story.

it was much longer than it needed to be. after each story mission you always had to backtrack to our hideout, just to watch a cutscene to lead to another story mission. the plot never really picked up, it was always stilted and held back by the fact you never felt like you did much. you could all but guarantee that whatever you did would be met with, ‘let’s go back to the hideout.’ i just always got the feeling of we were in the first fetch-quest part of the story before it was suppose to pick up, but it just never did. 

it would have flowed so much better if you could just cut out the middle man hideaway cutscenes, like just keep going!! why do we keep traveling halfway across the globe just to turn back!! keep moving forward!!!

the characters: the two main characters (i contest jill being a main character, even if the ffwiki says otherwise, btw) were so bland. clive was just some guy, and jill was just there. pretty much every other characters whether good, bad, or neutral outshined these two wet blankets. i will admit they had their moments. for jill in particular when she killed that priest. this isn’t a dig on the voice acting, i actually thought it was okay, but just how those two are written... ugh....

clive was just noctis if he wasn’t a twink and didn’t have his iphone. he had black hair, was a prince, had a dog companion, and had antagonist induced headaches.

don’t even get me started on their ‘romance’. good lord. they were just together because clive was a man and jill was a woman. remember how i said i knew nothing about this game? yeah for like the first four hours of this game i thought they were siblings. it didn’t help they looked exactly the same. (on that note, i thought benedicta was anabella pretty much until her history with cid came to light.) 

speaking of anabella, literally what was her problem. she is the most cartoonishly evil villain i have ever seen in a piece of media that wants to be taken seriously and have a dark/gritty vibe to it. genuinely, why was she like that. i wanted her and benedikta to play a larger part but they never really did. i find the women of this game were severely undermined larger parts which i think they could have fulfilled. (the misogyny......)

another thing about jill, though: she is practically written out of the story after having sex with clive and giving him shiva!!!! what the fuck! she was practically demoted to a npc. and there was a sidequest to cheer her up because even the writers knew they threw her to the wayside after putting out! in the above paragraph i wrote the misogyny halfly joking but the more i think about it i am very serious.

ultima, oh ultima. you had buttholes for eyes and gaping holes for ears. when he was a mysterious character, i enjoyed the mystique, but after a while it just kind of wore off. the mystique i am interested in is leviathan the lost. that was a cool concept, i was wondering why some more common final fantasy summons did not make the cut. guess they are just lost eikons.

my favorite character: barnabas, the mega dilf. he was hot as fuck, i cannot tell a lie. his accent was hot as shit too. i love crazy men. and that other white haired motherfucker was his got damn horse. 

the battling: like it was okay, half the time i pressed R1 to defend it never worked. i guess i just couldn’t time it right. it was still pretty easy though. i played on the action focused version and the only time i really got game over were during the eikon fights and when i tried my hand at the s rank hunts.

the eikon fights, wow. some of the highest highs and lowest lows of this game. the beginning fights were pretty interesting, all the good things about them culminated in the hugo kupka fight. that was the best fight of this game, full stop. it was somehow cinematicly choreographed while still having some stakes that required you to actually try to beat it. i’ve never had more fun in a modern game’s fight than this battle. the subsequent bahamut and odin fight, well.... uhh..... they were definitely battles. 

this is kind of fits in the under characterization as well but, there is no dialogue when you are on the field between clive and any of the npc party members. it is absolute silence, i forgot who was in my party half the time because they were mute.

side quests: i did all the side quests that popped up and all the hunts bar the s ranks (because i thought i may be under leveled.) there were a lot. it was definitely a chore. a lot of characterization for secondary characters were found in the side quests that i thought should have made it to the main scenario, but whatever. by the end i was sick and tired of it, such a fucking slog.

other odds and ends: i liked walking around the map and finding all the little places, that felt rewarding. but the treasures you would find were absolutely useless. you’d get an abundance of crafting materials, yet there were so few recipes you’d learn (which most were single use creations i.e. armor and weapons) that you were left with an overabundance of useless shit. maybe it picks up in the post game? i haven’t really played the postgame much, maybe it changes. at least for the main scenario, completely and utterly useless.

overall: well, it wasn’t the worst final fantasy (8 and 12, i am looking at you two.) all modern games pale in comparison to their predecessors of the 1990s and 2000s. i will always believe this i think. ff16 is definitely better than other modern games i’ve played. but the hay day of the final fantasy franchise where a game could be enjoyed by anyone while also not really having any glaring problems is over. the final objectively great final fantasy was 10. i enjoyed 13 and 15, but they just aren't as good. the same can be said for final fantasy 16. it was alright.

ok, i think that’s all i have to say right now. maybe i’ll think of more later.

[theliterarywolf]

Character huh? Seeing as we know the least about him, Saraj.

***

Wait.

What happened last night?

Suraj opened his eyes to a bleary view of a pearly blue ceiling. A sniff of the air told him told him he was in Aquacia though, admittedly, the potent scent of saltwater colliding with pristine freshwater was overtaken the slightest bit by the scent of sex in the room he was in.

“Wha – Ah, shit...” He sat up with a hand to his head, right between his horns and careful of his claws. Already with the hangover? “What did I do last night?”

From his left, the curvy body of a white-haired lamia girl slithered up close. “Mm..? What'sss wrong, baby?”

Suraj yawned, trying to reacquaint his addled mind with the fangs in his mouth, “Nothing, I--”

“Is everything alright?” That came from the mink-beastfolk girl on his right: her sleek black fur catching the room's limited light.

Suraj gave a slow nod, “Yeah, I'm --”

From behind the rakshasa, a dullahan held her head over his shoulder. “Did you need a little 'hair of the dog'?”

“No, no,” Suraj shook his head, “I just --”

From underneath the covers, right between Suraj's legs, a twink of an orc peeked out and grinned, “You wanna go one more time? For the road?”

Suraj only groaned again: memories of the previous night meshing with the post-orgy regret and the morning-after hangover.

Suraj, cleaned and showered, stumbled out of the hotel room. As fine as he looked, with everything cleaned, brushed, and swept, he was still being done up the ass sans lube from his hangover.

“Bye~!” The lamia, beastfolk girl, dullahan, and orc coquettishly waved him off as he spread those bat-like wings and started on his way.

Fuck, but the sounds of Aquacia's many waterways didn't do anything for his pounding head or his sour mouth. He huffed and kept flapping. “Wait, wait, wait!” He dragged to a stop in mid-air and fished around his pockets for something. “Come on... Come on!” It was a miracle he had made it this far without an incident. His entire body relaxed upon feeling them. In quick, practice motions he placed one in each ear and immediately felt at ease when all noise was snuffed out. “Okay.” He nodded, waiting for a large amphithere to sweep through the skies so he could catch the jet-stream it produced. Whatever he could do to make his trip to the ShimmerGale/Ignis Fanis boundary-line, the better it would be for him.

There were certain... aspects to life in Dama Fristad that nonhumans knew about and embraced in silence while humans ignored and feigned their nonexistence. These aspects were typically in harder to reach venues of the six districts. If one really wanted to enjoy their wares, then they knew the ordeals they were putting themselves through.

The ShimmerGale/Ignis Fanis boundary-line was such an ordeal. Suraj slowed his flight to a hover when he got close. Vines. Thick, corded, writhing. Some covered in thorns sharper than knives; others dotted in blooms that puffed out clouds of silvery pollen that, upon making contact with a beetle that had wandered too close, began to dissolve the creature's flesh instantly.

If it weren't for this hangover, Suraj would have just said 'fuck it' and headed back to 1685 Blightblossom Lane. As it was, the rakshasa counted under his breath, “Forty-seven. Forty-six.”

The vines wound themselves tighter.

“Twenty-five. Twenty-four.”

With a tilt of the head, one could make out the remains of some poor bastard who had wandered too close.

“Nine. Eight.”

Suraj feinted backwards from the giant blossom that surged out from the walls of vines: pollen and sap dripping from its fanged petals. Suraj took a deep breath. “Two... One.”

The blossom reared back and screeched into the air. Suraj was doubly thankful for the buds in his ears that were blocking all noise, both pleasant and harsh. Once the din subsided, the blossom opened itself up so wide that Suraj was able to see what lay upon the other side. He streaked forward, making it through in one swift go before the blossom could recollect itself and the vines could tighten back up.

Suraj heaved and panted. “I hate that wall.” He shook his head and kept flying. Not much further now. He could see it from where he was: aged walls of brick with layers of uneven paint, orange-tinted windows, and a simple shade covering the door.

Inside of this small restaurant, an old Yaksha was wiping down the counter: the demon's green skin sweaty from a rough morning of chasing inventory. He smoothed down the curls of his golden beard, waggling his claw in a goofy way as he walked past the window. He had almost past it completely when he noticed Suraj outside.

He blinked.

And then doubled-back to the counter where a radio was playing. He promptly cut it off.

Suraj let out a sigh of relief and removed the buds from his ears before walking in: the tile warm against his talons.

“Suraj!” The yaksha's claws clicked over the tiles as he walked around the corner to meet the young rakshasa in a bruising hug.

“Lohith.” Suraj winced from the loud noise and the fact that his hangover hadn't gone anywhere, “Kaise ho?”

“Eh.” Lohith hopped back behind the counter, “Business is slow so early in the mornings. It's usually when I go to the Halls of Judgments and Repence for the auctions, but I'm still full up from last week.”

Suraj sat on a stool, striped tail swishing lazily. “Things'll pick up, I'm sure. Like right now – Ah!” He held his head and grit his interlocking fangs together. Lohith hummed,

“Ah, I know that sound. You young people and your partying... Well, Lohith's Khed Rogan Josh will knock it right out of you!”

That's what Suraj was hoping to hear. He was still wincing from the headache but, when he looked up from his claws, he saw a rosy cup of Lassi in front of him. Suraj picked up the frosty glass and knocked some back: the taste of banana, yogurt, various spices, and blood washing over his forked tongue. He set the glass down in favor of looking at his phone.

Did he hear the horrific screams from the kitchen? The wet thud of a butcher's knife into flesh? Smell the sizzling fat melding with curry and ginger and other melodic spices? Of course.

“They're already calling me into work?” Suraj groaned, “Come on...”

Was he really in the mood for a bunch of old harpies who didn't understand what an area-code was?

“Ah..! Here we are!” Lohith came out of the kitchen carrying a tray laden with steaming rice, fresh naan bread, and a hearty bowl of fiery spice in the form of braised chunks of meat and a thick stew made from kashmiri, garlic, and ginger.

Suraj waited for the tray to be set in front of him. “You are a lifesaver, Lohith.”

“Eh.” Lohith shrugged, “Lifesaver, lifetaker; it all comes round to each other. Go on: eat!”

The rakshasa rolled his eyes but he picked up a spoon to ladle some of the Khed Rogan Josh onto the plate of rice. He got a hearty spoonful and pressed it past his lips. Oh. Oh, there it was. What was it about the flesh of humans that allowed for their final, greatest emotions to sweeten or spice them to that unlatched perfection?

Khed Rogan Josh... Regret Rogan Josh. Suraj tore a piece of naan and nibbled at it in-between bites of his main meal. Thankfully enough, though, with every bite that he took, he felt his pounding head and his sour mouth recede further and further into the abyss.

Suraj glanced into the kitchen. Lohith had stolen away to wash his claws: thin streaks of fading red leeching into the bowl of the sink.

Suraj shrugged and kept eating.

He did have to think, though... What came first in the grand dance? Nonhumans eating humans for pleasure and health? Or nonhumans eating humans in retaliation?

And, yet, for every hunter or anti-nonhumanite who would look at Suraj there, eating the braised flesh of a human, and call for the death of all nonhumans... Surely there was a witch who yearned for humanity's decline after the Witch's Winter? Or a dragon who bore the scars of the Great Dragon Exodus?

Suraj shook his head and returned to his food. He was just one creature in this wide, chaotic world. Why was he thinking on heavy topics like that? Nay, he should be thinking about what made him drink so much last night. Not to mention what made him so ready and willing to jump into bed with a horny quartet.

“Damn it,” He sighed, “I don't even remember who came first.” Suraj took another bite. The assortment of spices in both his food and the lassi reminded him of home, th –

Oh.

Right.

He didn't have a home anymore.

Suraj closed his eyes, chewing around his latest mouthfullllllllllllll of fire! Everything was burning! He saw everything on fire, but he couldn't stop. Even with all of the shouts around him, he just! Couldn't! Stop!

Suraj stole a breath and came back to the present.

He looked around himself. Restaurant. ShimmerGale/Ignis Fanis divide. The Khed Rogan Josh. Suraj pinched the bridge of his nose, slowing his chewing to a crawl.

If it weren't for his shift later, he would go back to whatever bar had managed to dull his memories and senses last night.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"

Chapter 11: A Joust Worth Remembering!

It was late afternoon, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon to our clock. Crowds gather to the center ring, ready for the evening's big event, Dionysus's joust. On opposite sides, Dionysus and Ares stood like two forces of nature. Ares prepared his chariot, now being pulled by Delphi's most capable mules, glared at Dionysus from across the ring. Dionysus, stared back not as a proud and fierce as the bulls he's compared to, but more of a scared fawn looking straight at the wolf eyeing it.

He glances at Hermes, Apollo and Ariadne whom were sitting within the crowd, feeling a little courage, he rides his chariot slowly towards to the ring, Ares following soon after, he clears his throat, "LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN AND BEYOND! I give you the joust of the millenia! Me, your humble ruler versus Ares!", he reached his arm out to show the crowd a begrudged Ares. "May the best god win!", he finished his speech, he felt a cold sweat run down his tempal. "Okie dokie, just relax-", he looked again to Hermes and Apollo, he could see them both had a glint in their eyes, "-you guys better have done a good job, I can't bare losing her.", he quietly whispered to himself.

Ares however, was revved up like an angry boar, ready to once again gouge his prey. He clenched his teeth as if he was going to go for the jugular. "I'm going to wreck your shit Dio.", he growled through his teeth. He and Dionysus both stopped a little parallel to each other, setting their positions for the joust. The two chariots were ready, the lances pointing to each other....and the chariots darted to each other as if time itself slowed to a crawl. Things were looking like they were going according to plan, but fate is a force even the gods can't predict. It was going to come on four legs, orange fur and long whiskers.

Back at the food tent, the little lycan pup was still rummaging through the cloths and pillows, now all shredded open creating a storm of down feathers. He played and leaped, knawed and ravaged the pillows as if they were rabbits. Until, he heard a mew, just outside the tent. All his attention went from enjoying himself, to finding the thing that made the noise. Sniffing the air, his nose lead to the corner of ravaged tent, again a mew was heard. He poked his head from under the tent, seeing a stray cat. The pup had no idea what a cat was, but he hated it like any self respecting canidae. He gave the most hardy growl his little body could muster and barked. The cat arched, hairs on end and it hissed. The pup matched ferocity with the cat, barking again he gave chase, determined to hunt it. The car let out a yowl and ran off, the cat and pup both have way to a cat and mouse chase throughout the feild. Several Delphians saw this oddly shaped wolf pup chasing the cat, some knowing very well this was no dog, it was definitely something of a beast. The pup chased the cat....into the jousting field.

Within the meaningless seconds, Ares felt victory was a red dye tipped lance away, "oh I can't wait to see the look on that fatass's face when I get take Delphi for myself!", he thought to himself. He could feel the warm wave of confidence run down his back and the cool breeze of the chariot's speed. His face with a manic grin, contrary to Dionysus's look of fear and worry. All Dionysus could do was hope that he wouldn't lose everything he cared for.

Ares it seemed had the joust set, until he saw a flash of orange followed by a little blurr of greyish brown. "Wait wh-", suddenly just time began to start walking instead of crawling, he heard the haunting sound of something breaking. He looked to his right and saw the wheel broke right off it's wheelhub, while at the same time, the sight of the two beasts of burdens frightened the chariot mules. The mules reared back, braying in fear of the fast moving things. The same had happened to Dionysus's mules, but he quickly reacted to the situation. He tugged at the riens as hard as he could, and tugged to his right and the whole chariot took a remarkable slide. Just narrowly avoiding hitting Ares's chariot.

It's an incredible chaos! As Ares's chariot continues to crash down to the dirt, the mules struggling with the yoke and shaft, Dionysus's mules grind to a halt and both gods seem to have lost control. The two gods, now more concerned about not dieing from an unfortunate chariot accident, where orbiting the field in a cloud of dust.

The whole joust had become the world's most heavenly mess. Hermes looked at Apollo, mildly glaring at him, all Apollo could do is gawk like everyone in the crowd. He looked at Hermes to see if he was enjoying the sight as much as he was but it was clear Hermes was more mildly upset. "What did YOU do?", Hermes asked. Even he wanted to know what did Apollo do to help sabotage Ares, because even Hermes himself wouldn't have thought of something as simple as messing with the chariot.

Apollo blushed a little with childish shame, "oh nothing much.....I just loosened a thing...or two.", he explained that he loosened the wheelhub to make sure it was guaranteed the wheel would fly off.", Hermes was dumbfounded yet actually impressed at the simplicity of it all.

Next to Apollo, Ariadne was worried about Dionysus, hoping he didn't hurt himself too much. "Oh no my dearest Dionysus! Please let him be alright.", she worried out loud. Apollo gave her a friendly pay on her shoulder.

"There there, he's been through worse.", Apollo assured her. He noticed a few people shouting and asking about the joust's results. Did Ares win? Or Did Dionysus win? As the dust cleared, both chariots, both pair of mules and both gods, in a pile of a kerfuffle. Ares rubbed his hurting head, all he could remember was something whizzing through the jousting feild and BOOM, now he was laying on the side of his own chariot...belly down. His thoughts started to collect and he than quickly remembered the wheel, now fuming with anger.

Dionysus, still reeling from his epic drift, was seeing stars for a few seconds. His thoughts ran as fast as the stars did and he felt a pit in his stomach and sinking in his heart. He shook his head, as he noticed a bright, green mark on Ares's left thigh. His gaping mouth quickly transformed into a smile, he had won by luck itself. Before Ares could turn around to strangle Dionysus, a satyr shouts "LORD DIONYSUS IS THE WINNER!". The crowd roared with cheer and merriment for their patron god had won as expected. Ariadne leaps up and cheered, she hastily went to Dionysus to hug the big fool. "You could have gotten yourself hurt!", Ariadne gave him a slap on the face, but just as quickly she was furious, she hugged him again. Relieved that he's alright. Dionysus picked her up, embracing her, he was relieved that she wasn't going to be trinketed away to his war mongering brother.

Ares was confused, he looked all over his body and found that bright green paint on his thigh, it stuck out like a sore thumb, evidence of his defeat. He looked at the cheering crowd and saw Apollo and Hermes both giggling, it was clear what had happened. Those two had sabotaged him, all this because his "whiny brother was a sore loser and couldn't stand loosing in front of his adoring followers" his thoughts roared. He stood there, stewing in his own anger. He growl, snarled, and baired his teeth but he took a deep breath, knowing well that if all of this calamity happened, it was obvious it wasn't written in the stars. He huffed and snorted like a bull, he wasn't going to dignify Dionysus with a congratulations. He stormed off, to find his horses and someone to fix his chariot.

About an hour later, after Dionysus's decree of curfew had to be upheld as promised, Ares was still at the stables, waiting for his chariot to be fixed by a supposed reputable repair nymph. He sat down on a stool, brooding his loss of the perfect training ground for an army he would have to wait another century. "Bastard drunk asshole, I swear if that golden twink and thieving gnat Hermes didn't fuck up my chances...hmf. I would have won.....I want a rema-" suddenly, he heard the sniffling and whinnying of a dog. He turned his head to the sound, and slowly followed it to a pile of empty barrels. He looked inside some of the barrels, he moved some aside, he couldn't seem to find the sound. Than, he finally found the source, it was the little pup.

It had seemed that shortly after he and the cat zoomed across the field, their chase ensued. He and the cat had a tussle, they 'battled' it out but towards the end, the pup lost to the cat's claws. A scratch across his little snout, few on his body and arms, tears running down his face, poor thing had its first taste of defeat with a little side of pain. Ares watched on, just wondering who would put this poor misshapen dog in tattered clothes. "To make my day even worse, these drunken fools decided to defile an innocent dog. Well... No use having two souls suffer...", he leaned down and saw the pitiful little, "hey buddy.", he spoke softly.

The lycan pup looked up, perked his ears in shock and let out a little snarl. To the pup, Ares was a towering opponent, he was going to do everything to defend himself. Ares however, was actually curious about the pup, it was definitely a funny looking dog with oddly long arms, legs and paws. He gently picks the pup by the scruff of his tattered chiton, as he does so, the pup grabs on to his forearm and knaws on the bareskin. The pup tried to dig in deep but even his little sharp teeth couldn't break Ares's skin.

Ares gave a hardy chuckle, "You have a lot fire in you, ugh buddy? I'm not going to lie, I have no idea what kinda dog you are....Fuck it, you'll make a fine addition to my pack little one...I think I'll name you.....Ajax.", he scratched the pup behind his ear with his free hand. The pup suddenly relaxed as he felt the pleasant starching of a persistent itch had gone, his tail wagged with glee and even relaxed his grip on Ares's forearm, letting Ares carry him like a small child. Delighted, Ares carried him to his chariot to bring back to Olypmus.

Back at Dionysus's veranda, the boys were enjoying a late afternoon cup of wup. Apollo was playing his lyre while Hermes, Ariadne and Dionysus relaxed after helping the citizens put away the maritals from the games. Dionysus with Ariadne in one arm and a kylix in the other hand, "man, that was great...did you see that sweet drift, I knew Ares was going to do something weird so I ha-?", he drunkenly went on.

"Dionysus love, you know very well you didn't plan anything.", Ariadne included. She was playing with his curly, thick locks. Dionysus blushed a little on top of his rosey glow of wine, laid the side of his head on to her, "yes darling.", he responded, "shame Ares couldn't stay for our little celebration.", he said with an air of irony. Apollo looked at Dionysus and shook his head, he knew he was just mostly relieved about Ares losing.

Hermes was swirling around his kylix, he started to ponder about the event and how did it go so wrong. He knew he and Apollo had sufficiently sabotaged Ares and his chariot yet the beginning of the joust just felt odd, he felt something was going and that a perfectly simple day wasn't going to end on a high note somehow. "Say....did anyone actually see what that THING that ran in between you guys were?", he asked taking a sip of the wine.

The rest of them all started to ponder as well, Dionysus clicked his tounge, ".....maybe it was just a dog chasing a cat or something.....", he bluntly put it. "Wait....do we have dogs in Delphi?", he asked Ariadne.

"Of course we have dogs in Delphi, Dionysus. Many of our farmers have herding dogs to protect the livestock.", she responded.

Apollo chimed in, "hmm.....yes it could....but didn't the dog look off too? It looked a little lanky....and...also....did anyone knoticed the dog.....wearing a tunic?". He hopeed someone around knew what he had seen.

This comment sent shivers down Hermes's spine, he suddenly remembered his encounter with the wolf creature. "Ugh.....you guys don't think it was-", he was interrupted by the sound of Kale.

Kale strutted towards the gods, "My Lord Dionysus, the citizens would like to express their gratitude and appreciation for your entertaining performance this evening....buuuut there was a small complaint.", he eloquently noted.

Dionysus was a little surprised about this news, "what complaint?", he asked. To his knowledge the whole thing was a success regardless of the terrible bet that had taken place behind closed curtains.

Kale, with little to no hesitation, "Well the main food tent was absolutely FuCkInG destroyed, someone ate all the roasted goat, most of the breads and ugh absolutely RUINED the furnishings I worked so hard placing. I am just floored, my Lord.", he let out a depressed sigh.

Dionysus was confused, did someone break in the food tent or was this just evidence of an animal attack? He cleared his throat, "ugh, I am so sorry about that, Kale, I saw it earlier in the morning it looked really nice. Did anyone see anything?", he asked, he just hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

Kale composes himself a little with a deep light breath, "well it looked like animal was in there...but it could have been some kid in a wolf costume or something just making mischief.", he deducted. However, Delphians weren't known for pulling such pranks, even for misbehaving youths, this would be considered to be in poor taste considering the farming population.

Ariadne slowly looked to Dionysus, suspecting he knew about something. "An animal you say?", she asked. The hair on the back of Dionysus's neck stand on end, his MAN senses were tingling, and his wife was in on it. He chuckled nervously, "maaaaybe it was just a stray dog?", his reassuring comment wasn't going to be enough.

However, Kale wasn't helping. "Well....a few people did see what came out of the tent, they saw it chase a cat all over the event field. It looked a tiny baby wolf in a chiton? I mean what kind of depraved jerk would put clothes on a wolf?". This was the final nail in the coffin, at least for Dionysus's chances of sleeping in the same villa as Ariadne.

She let out a huff, crossed her arms and crossed her legs. "What is going on Dionysus,I thought I told you not to go on with this whole thing if you KNEW if there were those beasts out there.", she was stern and her eyes could be comparable to Hera's stare of marital disappointment.

Dionysus, tried to avoid the conversation and sipped his kylix. He looked off to the side like a child who did something wrong. Hermes entered into the conversation, "Ugh to be fair, it was a BABY...and..ugh...there was just one...so...ugh...I guess it didn't do anything.", Inspite of this argument, he knew this meant that there was definitely more if these wolf creatures. "Ugh...you didn't see where it went...did you?", he asked Kale.

Scratching his meticulously groomed goatee, Kale nodded 'yes', 'I believe some of the attendees saw it run off into the field or "something" of that direction.", he replied.

Dionysus leaped up, "than it's gone! Good, let's all just hit the hay and get some sleep!", he spoke in a happy voice of a man who knew he was in deep trouble. He felt Ariadne gently pull his ear, his body flowed to the direction of Ariadne.

She gave that small smile that deceptively masked her frustration, "Dio... sweetie......you're sleeping with the leopards....not for a wekk....but for a month.", she gently whispered in his ear, patted him on his face. Regardless if she was angry with Dionysus, it seemed by the end of the day no one actually got hurt. She turn around to walk back home, "Goodnight, gentlemen.", she left right back.

The four gentlemen were all standing by themselves watching Ariadne leave, Apollo sighed and turned to Dionysus. "So....where do the leopards sleep?", he asked Dionysus.

Dionysus stared at Ariadne with loving relief. "Well, they sleep....that way.", he pointed towards the dimly lit forested yard were many of his leopards roamed freely. He scratched his chin, satisfied with the whole situation, it could have been worse yet it could have been better. Now his only priority, is to find a soft place to sleep. Before he did so, he turned to Kale and his brothers. "Kale, tell NO ONE of this weird dog shit, deny EVERYTHING and ugh....tell anyone who asked it was leopard. Hermes, Apollo, tommorow....we go and talk to dad about this. Now...I'm going to get serious.", as he said this, tripped on a raised rug and fell over on a pile of lounge pillow. "I'm ok... actually this is pretty comfy....", he muffled.

Apollo and Hermes looked down at Dionysus, wondering if they should help, but there's a likely chance he probably has already dosed off.

[marueonmain]

WINDFLOWER

part one ~ caught sight of her ~

(part one)

A/N: I wanted to write this for awhile. It’s the first fanfic I’ve ever written so it might not be amazing, but I hope it’s good and that you enjoy it! I will be getting some of the English aspects wrong (sorry).

Summary: Alex is not the kind of man (if given the chance) to steal another man's girlfriend. Or is he? 

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Set in 2020. Mentions of the Budweiser Bug. (Sam is an OC)

Word Count: 2.5k

It was a warm and late afternoon.

There was a short break in the clouds and the sunlight streamed through to bounce off his sunglasses, as he walked the pavement.

It was a warm and late afternoon – teetering on hot.

Alex wore his white Gucci button-up which was fantastic for not attracting heat. Still there were noticeable wet spots under his arms. For each street closer he was to his apartment building he quickened his pace and rolled his shoulders back. Adjusting – so that the cloth might peel off from his skin without him having to directly pinch it out from his armpits. Alex did not like being sweaty – but who did?

Despite how he might have felt about crowds or said crowds looking at him, he more often than not enjoyed the loudness of his expensive shirts, his california twink shorts, even his odd hair colours (if applicable). What these preferences said for his personality was anyone's guess.

Maybe he was secure enough in his identity to enjoy things that are deemed as classically feminine. Maybe he was making a statement on the gender binary, or the expectations of traditional masculinity.

Maybe he had stared into the darkness inside long enough that he could not bear having to see it outside as well. Or maybe he liked pink – thought it complimented his cool skin tone or his lip colour.

Which it did.

One street from his building, Alex picked up his feet and sped up. He reached the front entrance; his hand went for the door handle and – WHAM!

Alex grasped at his nose, which had connected first with the glass of the door as it swung out. There was no red on his hands as he drew them back to check, but there was a general throbbing radiating out from the middle of his face.

From above him, a man asked, "Shit, you alright there?" His voice was rich like a slice of peanut butter cheesecake drizzled in a chocolate sauce of genuine concern. While he spoke, the man dropped the large cardboard box he was holding – it hit the ground like it weighed well over seven stone – and sidestepped out from the other side of the door.

"No. Yeah. Fuck, give me a moment."

"I could get you ice or something, maybe?" The man held his hand out in the air at an odd distance from Alex’s left shoulder, hesitant it seemed to touch him.

"It's fine." His eyes spotted the hand, then the discarded box. It was wrapped tight in tape, across the top was written STORAGE in permanent marker. Alex gestured to the building and asked, "You moving out?"

"Moving in actually, I just grabbed the wrong box by accident. Maybe one of these days I'll learn how to read." He bent over and picked the box up.

"Well, I'm Alex. 205"

"Sam. 305." (a floor above) "Everyone calls me Sammy."

How to describe Sammy. Picture an elk – a blond elk. A majestic beast for sure. Picture that and then make it stand on its hind legs and also be a person. He had a naturally muscular build and an evident dedication to a workout regimen – not too intense like three or four times a week.

Everything about him appeared likeable, charming. Certainly, it was his voice. As well as the goofy smile, how he carried himself ~the confidence~ and how he held a comfortable amount of eye contact.

Alex gave a polite smile. In the pit of his stomach something was building – he had not eaten in at least ten hours – a feeling like optimism. Surely, if he were courteous and pleasant now, perhaps this new neighbor might be less willing to lodge noise complaints against him later on.

"You look strong." Sammy cleared his throat before continuing, "There's a couple-three more boxes left I got to bring up. And a sofa. I'll never be able to get that thing up myself. You're heading up, right? You wouldn't mind helping, would you?"

"No. No—I mean, yes. I will help you." It was a class rendition of George's commentary stutter.

"Great! I got to get the truck unloaded before the game. You're really doing me a solid." Sammy's smile widened to be a bit open-mouthed – like that of a dog after being told it was a good boy. He led Alex to the other end of the car park, to the truck, the sofa, and the boxes.

Alex stood waiting – as Sammy crawled into the truck bed – to help ease the sofa out. He tried to get a good hold around the back of it as it sprung out at him. Sammy pushed on his end, putting a lot of unjustified faith into a stranger.

He did not hear a complaint from Alex, just a string of strained grunts.

Sammy hopped out – boots hit the ground, and he took over the lifting part of moving furniture while Alex acted more as a guiding hand.

Walking toward the building, Alex shouted across the sofa, "Who you cheering for tonight?"

"Newcastle! Who else? Best there is in the whole sport far as I can tell."

A bark of a laugh shot from Alex's mouth. "I've got someone you have to meet."

Hanging around Sammy – for the time it took to maneuver the sofa in/out of the lift and to retrieve the remaining boxes and haul them up – was not not enjoyable. It was comfortable.

Alex did not think about the manual labor he had been tricked into doing; instead, he was preoccupied with chattering on and on as both rode the lift up. He answered all Sammy's questions – about the building, the people, the area.

He rinsed the other man for his team preferences and his truck – despite Alex himself not being able to drive. And while there was a lot of damning material for Sammy to 'fire back' with, he did not.

With arms shaking slightly under the weight of the last medium-large sized box, Alex went on with his lighthearted ribbing. And Sammy just laughed along. Even snorting once.

"Not even joking – are you a comedian or something?"

Alex beamed. "Or something."

Both men had a chance to rattle off some horror stories of the absolute shitholes they had rented in the past.

DING of the lift doors opening interrupted a rant on neighbors who complained about the littlest of noises, which Alex continued after stepping into the hall.

Then, it was done. The last boxes were set on the floor of the bare-walled apartment. What was Alex meant to do now? Leave? Hang around? Ask for a drink?

It was not like he was desperate for friends, just that Sammy was genuine, and it never hurt to have someone to ring up to accompany him on a night out or if Alex ever got evicted again.

Sammy dragged out a dramatic sigh as he straightened up, leaving the last box he had carried up – labeled DISHWARE – next to the sofa. Raising his arms above his head, he stretched out his back. Alex might have done the same, but he was conscious of the absurdly damp state of his underarms.

"I'm having friends over for drinks and to watch the game," Alex began. "Maybe a few rounds of FIFA afterwards. You should come – if you want, or not. There'll be money on it, and I tend to lose a lot."

"You just helped me move a sofa up three floors, shouldn't I be the one offering you something?" Sammy slapped Alex on the shoulder perhaps harder than he meant, perhaps not taking into consideration the size difference.

"There's nothing I need."

"Well, it sounds fun. I'll be sure to come round! And I'll—"

KNOCK. KNOCK.

A young woman stepped through the apartment door while her gaze held an intense focus on her wristwatch for too long. Like it does not take anyone who knows how to read a manual clock that long to figure out the time. She was looking at it just to look at it – to look preoccupied.

Shoulders a bit rolled in and posture a bit poor, she took five steps in and closed the door before even looking up. She pulled her head up from her wristwatch.

Upon seeing the space, her eyes brightened and shined. She gasped a small (not surprised but delighted) gasp, smiling big. And—and—oh.

OH.

OOOHhoho. Oh.

Oh, no.

Alex caught sight of her, and he was gone.

And it was not that she was perfect. No, she was not the airbrushed model of the advertisements on the tube. No. She was her, and it was ~ugh~ it was almost indescribable. It was the fit of her clothes and her hair and the cute ears. It was all of those separately and all of those at once, at the same time.

Seeing her was like living in a significant moment in history. Like attending a World's Fair, holding a piece of the Berlin Wall as it was being torn down, or standing on the frontline of a revolution.

It was having an inkling – a fervent gut feeling – knowing that what was happening was momentous and would leave an everlasting impact. But, for the time being, he was just in it: living it. Experiencing everything with the understanding that millions of different pieces had to have fallen into place for this one thing to happen and he. was. there.

"Hi, Red." Sammy caught her in a tight vice-like embrace.

"Hello." It was muffled a smidge from having her face buried in his shirt. She broke apart from him first.

"Alex, this is my girlfriend. Y/N. We call her Red." He said, keeping her close with an arm snaked around her middle while she gazed up at him.

In their brief time hanging out together, Alex had not considered that Sammy might have a girlfriend, nor did he consider that Sammy might not have a girlfriend.

He had not thought about it at all. Not in the slightest.

"Nice to meet you." Alex reached out his hand.

Y/N tore her gaze from Sammy and stared at the hand in front of her; she pondered it. Not moving. Her face flushed like she was going to be ill.

"Um...I..." He retracted his hand, shoving it deep into the pocket of his shorts.

"She won't shake your hand, mate, nothing against you – just a germaphobe. That's on me for not telling you beforehand."

"That's alright. I guess we're not meant to be shaking hands anyway." An awkward chuckle drippled off his tongue to which he did not receive a reaction. "With the Budweiser Bug and all."

"Oh, I'm not scared of that. People overreact." Sammy switched gears and moved to stand at Alex’s side.

Alex continued smiling as he considered how that might have been the most ignorant thing he had heard all month. But not everyone had the opportunities to take higher education courses as he had.

Y/N kept quiet during their exchange and after looking over Alex once more (avoiding his face), she flickered her gaze to Sammy.

It was like standing in the same room with someone on the phone and getting one half of the conversation. Alex was left guessing based on how confused and uncomfortable Y/N appeared to be as to what expression Sammy was using to respond to her questioning gaze.

Whatever he must have signaled or mouthed, it worked.

"Hello," Y/N addressed him simply as she set sail those dazzling eyes of hers into the peaceful seas of Alex's blue set, "It's nice to meet you as well."

It was a voice to tune-in to over the general hum of a group of speakers. A voice that might be complimented as being good for radio. A voice clear and crisp like water (from anywhere but London tap).

Alex wanted to keep her talking – to hear her mind and her thoughts. Hear her present a speech, putter a nervous ramble, or just word vomit. Hear how she pronounces each consonant and vowel. And if there were specific words that carried a different accent than the rest. Where did those come from? Where did she come from?

Notwithstanding his questionable reputation in a few corners of the internet, Alex was not a complete and utter irrational weirdo. He did have a brain which he would use part of the time.

It was not unlike him to be struck with crushes on young women and men he met in passing—he was human; it happens. If he was feeling extra alone, that crush might linger longer.

Might stumble into his dreams.

That is all it was—a crush. Right? Then why did it feel different? Not like that of a sudden burst of flames but of a washing-over sense of relief – an unquestionable assuredness in something new.

New or not, Alex was determined not to be weird about it.

"Why go by Red?" ...when Y/N is so fitting, so beautiful. Mission: Don't Be Weird Status: Failed

"What do you mean?" she asked with her head cocked to the left.

"Come on." With a clear sense of boredom in the direction of the conversation, Sammy strolled to the sofa and sat on it. He ripped into the cardboard box labeled DISHWARE and began emptying plates and mugs onto the cushion next to him. Speaking a bit louder to be heard over the tearing of tape, he offered, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Guess not. Or I might just be a little thick."

Everyone ignored his comment.

"You know, if you want to stick around some, Red's making quiche."

"Quiche?" Alex walked toward the back of the sofa – stopping a few meters short. "More of a breakfast food, don't you think?"

Bringing a hand to his chest in mock shock and offence, Sammy declared, "Food does not have curfews!"

"Except at hotels...and McDonald's."

"No. No, not McDonald's. Not for a while now; where have you been?"

Alex rolled his eyes; while searching for some support in the conversation, he turned to find Y/N had disappeared in the single second she was out of his sights.

A disappointed frown formed on his pink lips.

Perhaps it was a cue for him to leave as well. "I got to run. I'll be seeing you then?"

"Right," said Sammy. "Go Newcastle! Yeah?"

Alex thumped his closed fist twice against his chest in an odd gesture (which meant nothing) and smiled a closed mouth smile as he stepped backwards out the apartment door to the carpeted hall.

Sammy chuckled and shook his head, "You're a funny guy, Alex."

[neuralpathway]

okay.  the dream the other night that was kinda like those ones where obama comes and shares a morally advanced message with someone.  but starwars (mostly boba. also it wasnt as horrifying or deep as those dreams tend to be)   angel moroni was not involved dw

so it started with younger boba, ventress, n someone else in the cargo hold of a ship.  they were trying to rest in hyperspace and they were all snapping at each other.  I dont remember exactly what they said, but once it settled, boba was upset.  he stared out the window before drifting off to sleep.

Years later he must've been kidnapped by luke, han, and leia or something. (im gonna say its the "held hostage after the sarlacc" au)  they'd stuck around each other for a few months and decided not to kill each other, but they mostly just tolerated him.

at this point, the sun was setting as boba sat alone near the mouth of a shallow cave on a beach.  there was an inlet from the ocean trickling just below.  He was tangled up in himself thinking about things luke said to him in passing.  nice things.  they were small actions and sentences, but he remembered them, even if he didnt care about the twink very much.  problem was, he couldn't figure out if it was genuine, or if they were playing with his feelings to just throw him out later.  the sun set.

After maybe a few more weeks, the three of them had dragged boba to a lunch table at a park.  they talked as if he wasnt there.  technically he wasn't listening - he was caught up about why they'd even bother with him again.  it was rare for anybody to treat him like more than a dog.  he was unsure what to do with himself.  so he asked.

"why did you say those things to me?  why were you kind to me?" says boba, with the most broken expression

luke responds "because when I'm kind to people, they're nice to me.  I like when people are nice to me, and I wanted you to have the same feeling."

boba stared for a moment, seeming on the verge of tears.  he lapsed into his now regular silence after that.  dream ended about there

i was seeing that last scene from lukes pov tho so I knew he was putting "i thought you might be more bearable if i didn't bully you like a child" nicely.  i mean. I think it was really that luke figured out boba had the potential to be good but he wouldn't change unless someone acted decent to him.

they still didn't like each other tho.

[callsignbaphomet]

🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊

Y'think thats enough pens? Either way I don't expect you to do somethin for aaaaaaaaaall of em lol

Gsudkblbzysuv hun, this is so beautifully chaotic!

🖋 Ginger's a vampire but both of her dads (Lee Grimm and Glenn Grimm) are werewolves (Mist Walkers). Both are trans men.

🖋 Jelani uses male, neutral or female pronouns. Has no preference to which ones someone should use.

🖋 Trevor knows ASL. His little brother was deaf and in his memory he learned ASL.

🖋 Angelus sorta, kinda had a daughter. Ok tl;dr back in the late 1800s he ran into this little girl that was living in the street and tried to steal some money off him but she got caught. He gave her everything he had on him and then she ran off and he lost track of her. Much later he found her again but this time she was a bit older, like 11 years old. They recognized each other and they both went to get a bite to eat and she told him she ran away from home because her parents were abusive. Obviously coming from a similar background he heavily sympathized but he didn't know the first thing about kids but he still took her in. She grew up, married and had kids of her own and those kids grew up and eventually his adopted daughter (her name was Alice) grew old and died of old age. He kept in contact with his sort of grandkids obviously but as his great grandkids grew older and had families and kids of their own Angelus distanced himself. How the fuck are ya gonna explain your sort of adoptivr great grandfather looks like a 20 year old twink? He's kept an eye out on them as a "friend of the family".

🖋 AJ introduced Angelus, Mahmud, Tre and Madison to his favorite hobby: parkour. The five of them regularly get together to free run in places they think would be both challenging and fun.

🖋 Madison introduced Mahmud, AJ, Tre and Xiomara to spelunking and scuba diving as a hobby.

🖋 Sanaa loves and collects windchimes. So Ingvarr modified an alarm clock to make any chime she puts on it chime whenever she sets the alarm. So instead of some jarring alarm she wakes up to a windchime.

🖋 Angelus has an abnormally high tolerance for pain to the point where he won't react to most injuries. This was due to years of having to learn to control his cries of pain because the more he cried out the harder he'd get beaten.

🖋 Trevor holds the world record for longest confirmed sniper kill. Can't be found in any public record but it's in Oracle records and that's good enough for him.

🖋 Jelani (Loke and Jela's grandad, not J lol) and Subira made a spell called "Bright Light". Basically a faint little orb of light that when cast makes anyone near it calm down. It works for regular nervousness, anxiety, panic attacks, anger and so on. It's one of those beginner type spells that barely requires any energy and it can either hover over the caster's palm or it can be "attached" to an object.

🖋 Sunniva (she was Ingvarr's first wife and the woman who gave birth to Loke) is still alive. After she became pregnant she heavily regretted it so that's why as soon as Loke was born she ran away without telling anyone anything. Loke was always told that she disappeared but honestly speaking he never knew her so he has no attachment to her. To him Sanaa is HIS mother and only her.

🖋 Latoya was what you would consider a sickly kid. Someone in another country sneezed and she got sick. Her colds and flus lasted longer than usual and she was a super skinny little girl. When puberty hit she took up sports and when she was 18 she started lifting weights, blew up in terms of muscle tone and got laser eye surgery. Now she's like Rambo in his prime but pretty.

🖋 Abigail is constantly coloring her hair different colors but her favorite is any hue of green since that's her favorite color. She'll also help and color anyone else's if they ask her for help.

🖋 Ginger and Abigail got married on October 13th. Yes, the wedding had a Victorian goth theme to it. Even though they couldn't eat it the cake was red velvet with black frosting and everything. It almost looked like a funeral 'cause everyone was wearing black. I hope to doodle Ginger and Abby in their wedding dresses someday.

🖋 Haakon had a habit of collecting leaves from different countries he visited and kept them safe. Ingvarr and Jørgen both keep journals with leaves of different countries they've visited. They write down the tree the leaf came from, country where they got it from and date.

🖋 Anette can't drive until she's 21. When she was 14 she took Jelani's car, drove her and a bunch of her friends super late at night in winter (from what I've read driving in Norway during winter is horrible), crashed into another car after she lost control, totalled both Jelani's car and the other car and severely injured some of her friends and the other driver. The funny/not funny part is Jela was planning on giving her that car when she got her license but she totalled it. It was BMW by the way. Fuckin' teenager driving around in a 2 year old Beemer lol.

🖋 Speaking of cars. Grete (Anette's mother and Loke and Jelani's aunt) is horribly afraid of driving. She can't get behind the wheel of a car without freaking out. Anette crashing made the fear 10x worse. She can be in a car as long as she isn't driving and the car isn't going too fast.

🖋 During a visit Anette convinced both her parents and Jelani to let her stay with him during the summer. She also convinced both Leah and Xolani to stay over as well. So for a whole ass summer Jelani had three teenagers staying over as a kind of sleep over vacation. It actually turned out fun in the end, the kids had fun and Anette and her rebellious attitude kinda softened.

🖋 Anette, Xolani and Leah have one defining thing in common. None of them know what to do with the rest of their lives. Thing is Leah is very nervous about it, Xolani is kind of aloof about it and Anette is kinda of frustrated about it. Anette is frustrated which leads her to act out and cause trouble. Xolani just looks like they don't care but they do. Leah is super nervous about it. Another thing they got in common is the three of them tend to look up to Loke and Jelani 'cause they feel both understand them better than their parents do.

🖋 Ginger is kinda very obsessed with portals. She's fascinated by them but also respects them as they are incredibly dangerous and unpredictable. She is basically the only person in the world that managed to control portals even if it's for a short amount of time.

🖋 Shaine got really into explosives when she was just a kid. After an accident with a dozen cherry bombs she was left partially deaf, now has to wear a hearing aid and is the explosives expert.

🖋 Before joining Oracle Katya financed her transition by making fake IDs and passports. She also doxxed corrupt government officials and ransomed vital information she got off them.

🖋 Loke is allergic to bird dandruff but would love to have a pet pigeon. At least he can have dogs which is his other favorite animal. His favorite dog is the pitbull.

🖋 Until he got together with Jelani all of Angelus's previous relationships were short and ended in kind of disaster because he constantly compared them all to Jelani and to him they didn't measure up. He ultimately said no to relationships around the 1930s and just fucked around. Obviously until he got shit faced once and confessed to Jelani he was in love with him and the rest is history.

🖋 Tre is one of the super rare seers that can see and feel visions. He's so sensitive that merely standing in an area with a lot of energy could affect him.

🖋 In Oracle there is a head of the organization and two leaders. Current head is Aleksey with Jelani and Angelus as leaders. There's always three as kind of a callback let's call it to when Oracle was started. Aleksey and two close friends started it so from then on there's always 3 leads. When Aleksey steps down Jelani will be head, Ginger will be the second lead and Angelus is the third lead, however he plans on making Trevor the third lead. The reason is because Angelus is fully aware of what he can and can't do and he knows damn well that he isn't lead of an organization material. When he steps down he'd be the Trickster team leader, that he can handle, and since Trevor left a vacant spot Loke would take that spot.

🖋 There is a place called Kironia. It's theorized to be a sort of epicenter for portal activities. Angelus and Ginger have been tasked with keeping an eye on it but it's shrouded in so much mystery most people don't think it's real.

🖋 Despite the fact that Trevor personally knows a Maker and a goddess (Jade, Latoya's girlfriend) he's still an athiest.

🖋 Trevor didn't have a name growing up, he chose the name Trevor because it sounded pleasant. He took his surname, Ravencroft, from a woman he'd heard of from other Oracle agents. He eventually got to meet Morgana Ravencroft, she thought it was flattering he took her name.

🖋 Speaking of Morgana Ravencroft, Angelus was first introduced to the concept of magic because of her. He went with Trevor to help him with some supplies and after being completely hypnotized by some illusions she gave him a book on the basics and helped him get started.

🖋 Loke stopped aging and it's something of a weird occurrence that is brought up every so often. When he was 28 years old he and Jelani (who was 15 at the time) were delivering some supplies to another village. They ran into bandits and as usual Loke was trying to protect Jelani and in doing so he was fatally wounded. Of course Jelani freaked the fuck out and his "fail safe" kicked in. Jela doesn't remember but Loke does, he saw Jelani change form and after dealing with the bandits he turned his attention to Loke and stopped him from dying. He was rusty as fuck so he put a little more oomph behind it and a tiny portion of his energy slipped into Loke. Neither of them know but Loke is basically kinda frozen in time when it comes to aging. So because of this Loke can't die unless Jelani dies.

🖋 Loke has a black feather that's warm to the touch and small embers can be seen floating out of it. He's never mentioned it to anyone and keeps it close to him. The feather came from Jelani when he changed form to fight off the bandits. After he blacked out and changed back Loke found the feather on the ground. He knew where it came from that's why he kept it. He's never told Jelani about that day because he doesn't know what it means and he thinks telling him would only serve to confuse him further.

🖋 Continuing with Loke, he's your average run of the mill berserker. That means he cannot use magic while in berserker mode or even with his weapons. The only ones that can do that are arcanist berserkers (the Nyota tribe). Sanaa is an arcanist berserker, she can use magic while in berserker mode. However, through years of practice Sanaa managed to teach Loke one spell that her people are really fond of. Falling Stars is a spell that has the user charge a single arrow. The arrow is shot upwards and as soon as it reaches high enough it splits into hundreds of arrows that rain down on the target. Loke started practicing when he was 8 years old and by the age of 30 he managed to pull it off making him the first berserker to use magic.

🖋 Jelani and Leah are two of the extremely rare and fortunate people that have gone through a portal and have returned. Whether their return was sheer luck or the fact that he's a Maker is something I'll elaborate on later.

🖋 Haakon knew Jelani wasn't a berserker. Haakon himself had a feeling that his grandson was something far more, if that makes sense. The day Jela was born Haakon had a dream but instead of fear he just felt an insurmountable amount of wonder. He's only ever told his wife, Eli, who in turn believed him. Both always made sure Jela didn't feel out of place and Haakon frequently encouraged him.

[vaguewrites]

The Morning After

I wrote a sequel to my Watch Dogs fic because I’m a horrible monster who can’t be stopped. Lots of swearing, mentions of smut and Aiden/Defalt ahead.

An alarm jolts him awake, the shrill buzzing right in his ears. For a few seconds Defalt doesn’t know where he is. He’s tangled up in sheets that aren’t his, there’s none of his posters or monitors on the walls and where there should be his closet there’s a door that leads into a bathroom. He sits up and pain shoots up his back and he grunts, falling back against the bed. There’s warmth next to him. A figure that groans and rolls over to grab the buzzing thing, a phone, and shuts off the alarm before tossing it aside. It’s Pearce.

He’s naked next to Pearce, in Pearce’s bed, in that shitty motel Pearce likes to hang out in, in Pearce’s bed. Because they fucked. First in Defalt’s hideout and then here, in a proper bed with pillows for Defalt to shove his face into to hide his own stupid high pitched moans. No wonder Defalt can’t feel his own fucking ass.

“Morning,” Pearce says, rubbing at his eyes, and Defalt doesn’t know why he’s bothering to make small talk. Isn’t this where one of them has to get up and get the fuck out? And by one of them, he means himself since this isn’t his place. Where are his clothes anyway?

“Hey,” he replies, and his voice is hoarse and raspy. Probably because he’d sucked Pearce off before crying on his dick like one of those twinks from the bad pornos. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

Defalt groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, Pearce, why the fuck did you set your alarm that early?”

Pearce chuckles. It’s almost weird hearing him laugh. He almost doesn’t seem like the kind who does. Defalt has to look at him to make sure it is actually him and not some weird body double. He’s stretched out on the bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling fan. He’s a hell of a lot more muscular than Defalt expected, but it’s not the kind you build up in a gym, but the kind you get from a lot of physical labour. Such as running around Chicago, climbing buildings and fucking up other people’s shit. Pearce is sturdy, thick and he’s got a light dusting of hair on his chest and stomach. There are scars too, some look like they came from bullets, some are pale and silvery from age and others pink and raw, probably a few weeks old. Defalt’s hands itch to touch him, to wander over his bulky frame and feel along each scar and hard curve of muscle. But he doesn’t.

“I didn’t think I was going to be up all night,” Pearce says. He throws Defalt a look. Defalt would almost call it mischievous but that doesn’t feel like the right word for Pearce. “You feeling okay?”

Defalt snorts. “You’re not that fucking big Pearce.”

“Not what you said last night.”

Defalt swats at him and Pearce catches his wrist. He thinks he’s just going to drop it but then Pearce pulls his hand in and kisses his knuckles. Defalt stills as he watches him. Pearce’s lips are soft and plump and his stubble scrapes his skin but Defalt kinda likes it this way. “What’re you doing?” He asks when he finally gets his voice to work. It feels like he’s swallowed cotton.

Pearce raises a brow. “Knitting. What does it look like?”

“Don’t you want me gone?” Defalt says before he can stop himself.

“Do you want to leave?” Pearce challenges him, then drops his hand and Defalt suddenly feels cold. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Does he want to leave? Normally when he hooks up with guys it’s always a comfy no strings attached deal where they both know it’s just a quick fuck and nothing more. He normally doesn’t sleep over, or let them sleep over. One of them is always gone after it’s over. With Pearce though, it’s different. He doesn’t know how or why it just is. Defalt could very easily just get up now and throw on his clothes and fuck off but he doesn’t. He stays in the bed, curled next to Pearce and chances throwing his arm over the man’s chest. Pearce doesn’t hesitate to pull him in, his rough, calloused hands smoothing over Defalt’s back.

“No,” Defalt says, because he feels he should probably say something.

Aiden kisses the side of his forehead. “Then don’t.”

Defalt rests his head in the crook of Aiden’s neck. He’s so warm it’s almost unreal, like a human furnace. Aiden holds him, rubbing his back until Defalt’s eyes grow heavy and he drifts back into sleep.

The next time he wakes up there’s no harsh ringing in his ears, but there’s also no Aiden in the bed with him. He sits up, winces, then glances down at a messily scrawled note left beside him.

“Sorry, T-Bone had a job, lunch later?”

Fucking T-Bone, Defalt thinks, tossing the note aside and gets up for a shower. He feels better after washing, then notices the amount of bruises and bite marks Aiden left on him, the bitch. The biggest one is on his neck. A deep purple colour that’s not gonna fade for a while. Defalt presses it and hisses as it stings a little. His shirt and hoodie don’t cover it but, hell, Clara and T-Bone are going to figure out they’re fucking eventually so there’s no point hiding it. And since Defalt doesn’t exactly want to spend the rest of the day cooped up in Aiden’s shitty motel room he decides he may as well head to their bunker.

That’s where he finds Clara, hunched over her laptop and typing away. She only spares him a glance, her perfectly drawn on eyebrow raised at his disheveled appearance.

“You look like shit,” she says, “I was trying to get through to you last night but you weren’t answering.”

“Yeah,” Defalt tries to hide his limp as he moves to sit beside her on one of the spare chairs. “Had stuff to do. Working on the next album. I’m behind as it is.”

Which is kinda true. That was what he was doing before Aiden railed him against his desk.

“You know if you’re struggling with work stuff you can take a back seat. I don’t think anyone will mind. T-Bone definitely won’t say shit.”

“Ah, I’m not worried about whatever the fuck T-Bone says,” Defalt leans back in the chair, one leg thrown over the other despite the ache in his lower back. “Where’s he at anyway?”

“The Loop. He and Aiden are following a lead. Though I think there’s more to it. T-Bone didn’t seem all that thrilled with Aiden this morning but I don’t know why. Which is weird because he adores Aiden.”

She doesn’t get to say anything more as the door slides open and Aiden and T-Bone step through. T-Bone looks as though he’s biting his tongue, his brows are furrowed but when he meets Defalt’s eyes he quickly looks away. That’s not unusual. He doesn’t meet his eyes often, even now when they’re supposed to be over the past. Well, over it is a kinda loose term. They got drunk together, Defalt screamed at him about his brother and how T-Bone was a fucking murderer and then they ugly cried in each other’s arms while T-Bone said he was sorry over and over. It’s obviously not fixed everything right away but it’s something, a start at healing. They’re not fighting as often at least.

“Jay, I need you,” Aiden says, hands shoved in pockets and voice gruff. It’s a little surreal seeing him being his regular stand-offish asshole self again after this morning, but Defalt shakes it off. They’re meant to be more “professional” now anyway.

“Alright. Text you later Clara,” Defalt says as he stands and Clara offers him a half wave. T-Bone watches as they leave and Defalt gives him an odd look because he can practically feel the tension rolling from him in waves. What kind of bitch fit did he and Aiden have?

He doesn’t find out until they’re halfway to the Mad Mile.

“He says I’m going to drag you down with me,” Aiden says. He’s gripping the steering wheel hard enough his knuckles are white.

Defalt frowns. “Do you care?”

“Yeah.”

Defalt doesn’t know what to say to that. He squirms in his seat, watching the buildings speed past. Something ugly and cold is curling in his chest. “So… This is a break up? Could’ve just said so before we got in the car.”

“I’m better at talking when I’m focused on something else,” Aiden says, “But if you want to get out I’ll stop us somewhere.”

“So you do want to break up,” Defalt grits his jaw. He’s not sure why he cares so much. He rests his head on his hand and stares out the window and tries not to think about the heat behind his eyes that threaten to spill over.

“I want to know what you want. I asked you this morning if you wanted to leave and you said no. I’m giving you that option again. I’m not the easiest guy to get along with, I know, and I’m definitely not the easiest to date. But I like you a lot, have for a while, and I’d like to try and make it work. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?”

“He brought up our age difference as well. How you might not want to settle down at all and I’m forcing you into it. How I’ll expect too much of you too soon. I don’t want to do that, Jay.”

“Sounds like you’re letting him do all the talking for me,” Defalt says.

“That’s why I’m talking to you now. What do you want?”

Defalt shifts again. What the hell does he want? He’d spent years focusing on his music and computers because it was what he was good at. He didn’t plan to make a career out of it, it just happened. He thought he wanted to kill T-Bone, wanted to make him suffer like he had. Only it turned out T-Bone had been living his own personal hell for years. So, in the end vengeance wouldn’t do jack shit. When it comes to dating, he was never with anyone for too long. He had a lot of demons and his boyfriends never had a lot of patience for it. Usually he was the one dumped. When he got famous for his music he couldn’t make time to date so he just hooked up with random guys when he could. But now… Hell, he still doesn’t fucking know. He’s liked Pearce too, he just never assumed the guy was into other guys. Last night was a huge fucking surprise.

“You,” he blurts out, and he almost misses the twitch of Aiden’s lips, “I mean, I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. Dating I mean.”

Aiden glances at him, deep green eyes full of so much fondness and Defalt’s not used to getting a look like that from anyone.

“Yeah. I can give it a shot,” Aiden says. “So long as you promise not to punch T-Bone when we get back.”

Defalt scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. “How’d he find out anyway?”

“He asked where you were because Clara couldn’t get a hold of you. I said you were with me.”

“Ah.”

The rest of the drive is in silence until they pull up to a bar. Defalt doesn’t get why they’re here until he sees Aiden looking at him expectantly and then he remembers the note.

“Oh, you lied about a job just to get me out for a date, Pearce?” Defalt can’t help the twitch of his lips.

“Technically I didn’t lie. I never said what I needed you for,” Aiden replies.

“Smart ass.”

“Thanks.”

Yeah, Defalt never thought much about what he wanted from life, other than causing another man pain. It’s almost bizarre to think how empty he’s always been, and just either never noticed or got too used to it. It feels like he’s woken up from some bad dream, or snapped back into reality after being trapped in his own head for so long. He’d thought he'd been living before, but now he realises he was just going through the motions, functioning but not attached to anything. It’s a stark contrast to now, where he feels so at home with Aiden, Clara and, fuck, even T-Bone, and he thinks about stuff outside of work and hacking and death. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he had to be broken before he could fix himself back together. Maybe, as sappy as it sounds, Aiden’s the missing piece he needed.

[fandom-will-be-my-fall]

Spill your heart out about Walter.

Okay so I basically got this question in what, January?? but I’m answering it now since I just rewatched the movie and have inspiration, sorry for the late reply Anon

Okay so, to start off this post with some keyboard smashing because that my primary go-to for expressing my emotions

sgklhfsgjksdlgdghkjlgjhOHUFLUSKHDGSLIDRGKJGKFSDHGlhjglksdhkglshglllllfa. knjcthxiudhusmnvsoidhéytbvonjyxclkkvbr. haeylicfvshdkgikc

HANDSOME BOY. HANDSOME. ‘NUFF SAID.

I could legit stare all day at his beautiful face… look at him. Enchanting sky blue eyes… fluffy, wavy brown hair, cute round cheeks, lovely smile… those hidden freckles that you can hardly spot and only in certain screenshots but nevertheless they’re there to raise the cuteness factor… ALSO HIS LASHES. MAYBE IT’S NATURAL?? MAYBE IT’S MAYBELLINE?? WE SHALL NEVER KNOW

Here you may be able to spot the freckles if you squint hard enough. I have 77 screenshots but this is the best example I could find.

Secondly… well, he’s a sticc. A short sticc at that (though still slightly taller than me bc I’m smol), but a sticc regardless! And that seems to be the most attractive cartoon body type for me. Don’t judge me, I just have a thing for twinks, I’m… twinksexual or whatever.

Look at him! He would fit through my doorcrack.

(Maaaybe the reason for me liking sticcs so much is partially the fact that I like the idea of a boyfriend I can protect and support, physically and emotionally. I’m mad at the universe for not letting me scoop him up in my arms bridal style and smooch the HECK outta him.)

I’ve encountered a few posts that claimed he’s got cake but, come on. That concept has canonically been proven to be false, even by Lance. This man is flat and you can pry this opinion off my cold, dead hands.

Speaking of hands! I like his big ol hands. Nice shape. They look soft. I wanna hold them.

According to a DVD commentary, and the visual facts, he has no shoulders whatsoever. Back in Venice Killian was able to restrain him effortlessly with only one foot on his chest, even as he kept struggling ans squirming and generally put in as much effort as he possibly could. Before then, he claimed the database was the first thing he has ever caught in his life.

Conclusion, our boi’s very much NOT athletic. Which makes sense for a scientist, braining all day and stuff, and because he probably barely even eats, or sleeps which are by the way both pretty concerning implications but anyway.

STOP BEATING UP THIS POOR FRAGILE LAD FOR GOD’S SAKE. Makes me want to protect him even more. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you get what I mean.

Now, on to the actual reason I’m so head over heels for him, a.k.a his personality.

He is one of the sweetest, kindest, purest boy characters I have ever seen in fiction, if not THE number one himself. (All my other cinnamon roll crushes are, or have been a villain at some point and WILL resort to violence if provoked.) Look at him, his pacifism… is unbreakable. He’s dead set on making the world a better place, by peaceful ways, and helping humanity. If that’s not a quality to be cherished then IDK what is.

And he’s just such a refreshing character. He likes pink, K-dramas, glitter, kittens, things that aren’t traditionally “masculine” (but is never made fun of those things in particular in the movie) and I love that. Nothing’s sexier than a man who’s, despite society’s shitty standards, openly and unashamedly himself!

His femininity is, if anything, just another turn-on. (This didn’t intend to sound sexual… but oh well.) I love his little hand gestures and mannerisms, dorky ramblings, the way he says “yep” popping the “p” at the end, all the small yet significant traits that were incorporated into his character. Bless you, SiD creators, bless you.

Have I said that he’s a genius?? Which is pretty obvious but c’mon, he graduated at 15!! He can modify human genes!! He successfully turned a man into a pigeon on the first try!! (The serum wasn’t the first prototype but we can assume he didn’t experiment on living humans with the previous ones.) And he’s still just 20!! Like what is that if not hella fucking impressive???!??

His inventions, to the untrained eye, may seem “stupid” or “childish” but alas! The observer couldn’t be more wrong! Because despite the odd designs and themes they’re all highly effective, as we have witnessed in the battle against Killian. And he is extremely creative for coming up with such ideas! Told you he’s brilliant!!

Which makes me all the sadder about how much they underappreciated him at the agency. In his words, nobody ever listened to him, or gave him a chance. They just left him and his “weird” ideas next to the men’s bathroom and called it a day. How could they be so blind? Didn’t they see the potential in his inventions? Oh well. Maybe I’m just being a smartass bc I have more knowledge, living outside that universe. But I’m totally right.

And I was honestly ready to throw hands with Lance for hurting the boi even further. (I’d stand no chance whatsoever, but still.)

Oh no baby please don’t cry.

He did cry in that scene though… you could see a tear rolling down his cheek and if it wasn’t for the machine beeping… He did have a pretty rough day afterall. But HEY, if we dwell on it too much the scene loses its comedic effect!! A guy gets sad over a stupid soap opera, har har har!! Now let’s move on, keep it fast and snappy for the kids, don’t let them overthink it!! Can’t have any emotional breakdowns onscreen. Keep it lighthearted y’know. Then let’s kill a random side character and have our dear protagonist almost die twice.

(Well jokes on you Blue Sky! I’m no kid, but a devoted fangirl who can and will overthink any material of my fictional faves at any given opportunity.)

You know what else I love about him though?? His love for animals!! And pigeons, especially Lovey!! He loves her so much, gives her gluten free breadcrumbs, nuzzles her, the first thing he does when he finds out Lance can talk to the pigeons is ask if she loves him too!! Like… That’s so pure and wholesome.

This here. THIS RIGHT HERE. BROTP forever.

(Not gonna lie, I used to be crazy for pigeons for like, an entire year or something. Not as in looking up all the facts there are about pigeons as I do nowadays with cartoons, but I’d feed them regularly and write my little observations on their behaviors. Did you know they sometimes scratch their neck with their leggies like dogs do?)

I think I’ve summed up mostly everything I love about this nerd. Oh wait, almost forgot the sass!! I love how sassy and smug he can be sometimes, in like, a really harmless way but it’s still a very nice characteristic.

Since I’ve ran out of coherent things to say, here’s an incomplete list of things I want to do to Walter Beckett. Put at the end of this post so those of you who were only here for the analysis part and not the selfshippy gushing don’t have to read further:

kiss he

like seriously

just kiss he a whole lot

cover his whole face in kisses

one kiss for each of his freckles. a finishing kiss onto the tip of his nose. then repeat the cycle

hug him. hug him like the world is ending. hug him so tight he can barely breathe

then ofc let go and apologize bc I would never hurt him on purpose

cuddle him

hold him close, let him lay his head on my chest

run my fingers through his hair

listen to his breathing

discover that he’s fallen asleep on me and smile fondly, then soon drift off to sleep myself so we can wake up entangled in eachother the next morning

fuck he

pin him to a wall and snog he

make him go cherry red

fluster he

compliment him. praise him. appreciate him. he’s a prince, a hero, an angel, a wonderful human being and he needs to know this

feed pigeons together

listen to his scientific ramblings and bird facts

write him love letters and give them to him. maybe read it aloud myself if I’m feeling brave so I can see his reaction in real time

serenade he

be the love of his life, and have him be mine

just… soft things, man

cook something for this malnourished sticc

make him small handmade gifts

they’re nothing like his gadgets but I tried

draw he

have him be my muse in general

not like he isn’t now but it would be lovely if he was real too

carry him bridal style

be the feral cryptid that lurks in his house when he isn’t around

sing along to cheesy pop-song together really badly

watch cheesy rom coms

flirt with eachother clumsily until we’re both laughing at our awkwardness

or, alternatively, shower him with compliments until he literally cannot handle it

have sleepovers together

give him hand kisses

be of emotional support

[she-toadmask]

Ok so idk if anyone remembers but one time I made a small post about a Team Crafted + Sanders Sides fic? I know someone saw my Danganronpa post but I never got around to starting that but I have some words about TC moving into neighboring apartments and honestly I need to share it with someone.

Because it has Remus being Remus, it will be below the cut. (Also Janus is there. All the sides are at least mentioned.)

“Patton, we don’t know if they’re good people! I insist on coming with you to meet our new neighbors!”

“Ro, it’ll be fine!”

“But they could be mean! Or evil! Or think there is a clear winner between Frozen and Tangled!”

“You really think having an opinion is as bad as being rude?”

“Shut up Hot Topic, that’s not the point!”

“Oh it absolutely is, imagine thinking that Tangled, with its villain song, usage of dramatic irony, and accurate portrayal of abuse is worse than Frozen, with its questionably executed plot twist and iffy morals about marriage.”

“Excuse me!”

“That aside, if you are that worried about our new neighbors, I will go down with Patton. You can be enthusiastic, to put it lightly.”

Roman groans. “Fine, but if I haven’t heard from you in half an hour, I will have to go on a rescue mission!”

“You’ll need to rescue the neighbors if they take longer than fifteen. Remus and Logan get back from the museum then.”

“Well, then we’d better get to meeting them! Let’s go Dee!”

Janus nods to Roman and Virgil before following Patton out.

Of the eight they had been informed would be moving to the hall, four of them were in the lobby: a tall man with brown hair wearing a red flannel, an even taller and bulky Bacca wearing a suit t-shirt and carrying a large box, a skinny boy with headphones facing a corner of the room, and a man in sunglasses and a suit standing by the door and talking on the phone. The Bacca kisses the brown-haired man’s cheek before leaving the lobby.

The woman running the front desk wrinkles her nose. “I’m sorry, but that isn’t going to live with you, is it? We have a strict no-pets policy here.”

“His name is Jerome and he is my boyfriend and he is going to be living with us.” The man grits his teeth.

“No he will not. We have rules here and we can’t have just anyone moving in.”

Janus rubs the scales on his face and turns to Patton. “Dear, I’m going to help them out with this. I think that’s Remus’s corner and he would be very upset if someone was erasing his art, do you mind-“

“Nope, and good luck!” Patron winks at him and walks over to the boy in the corner.

Janus straightens his hat and walks up to the front desk. “Good afternoon, what seems to be the problem?”

The man in the flannel turns to face him, face flushed. “This lady is telling me my boyfriend can’t move in! The Bacca you just saw!”

Janus shakes his head and looks at the lady. “And why would this be? Has he caused any trouble while helping move in?”

She flushes. “You know better than anyone what our pets policy is here!”

“I do, but I’d hardly say someone capable of talking and being someone’s boyfriend is a pet.”

“But the hair-!”

“That wasn’t why you enacted the pets policy. The previous occupant of the room my neighbor lives in had a dog who shed a lot, yet it was my boyfriend and my snakes who led to the pet policy being enacted.”

“I run this place and I decide who does and doesn’t get to live here!”

Janus leans on the desk and stares at her. “I would like to remind you of the stringent laws in place to prevent discrimination based on species, which we went over when I moved in. My boyfriends and I all have well-paying jobs and could easily afford to take you to court over this. If you do not wish to go that route, and you still disallow these fine people their apartments, I think you will find the stairs to your room not as sturdy as they used to be.”

The lady blanches, leaning as far back as she can.

“Now, I will ask again: what is the problem with letting these new neighbors move in?”

“No problem, no problem at all! Just let me get the rest of the paperwork out of the back!” She stands up and rushes off.

“Thanks, remind me never to make you angry. My name’s Mitch, the e-boy in the corner is Ty, Ian is at the door on the phone, and you saw Jerome earlier. Sky, Quentin, Jason, and Seto are still on their way over.”

Janus turns and tips his hat. “We’ve had our own problems with her before, it’s nothing. My name is Janus, and Patton is in the corner over there with Ty. Two of Patton’s roommates, Roman and Virgil, are back in the apartment, while our other two roommates, Logan and Remus, are on their way back from a museum event.”

The lady rushes back out and slams some paperwork onto the table. “Here’s the rest of the paperwork!” She turns and rushes back to the back room, slamming the door behind her.

The Bacca walks back in, nudging the man with sunglasses and setting another box on top of the growing pile before walking over to the front desk. “Thought I heard some yelling, everything good biggums?”

“Yeah, the lady was being a bitch about you being a Bacca but one of the neighbors shut her up.”

“My name is Janus, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“I’m Jerome, nice to meet you.”

The man by the door puts away his phone before walking over to join them at the front desk: “Sorry I didn’t help with getting everything inside, work called and, well, yeah. Thanks for handling the front desk for us, it’s not really anything new but...”

“It’s never pleasant. As you can see, I most definitely never have any problems with those people, and moving in was delightful. My name is Janus, and you are Ian, yes?”

Ian’s response is cut off by the front door slamming open and Remus announcing his entrance. “Hello! Oh new neighbors!” He points to each of them in turn: Jerome, “Bear in every sense of the word,” Mitch, “twink with the hots for everything in the woods,” Ian, “the uptight businessman who secretly gets off to and participates in hard gay porn,” and finally Ty, “versatile e-boy with a crisis over being mistaken for an emo.” He glances between Patton and Janus. “Oh, and of course, daddy and double-d.”

Amidst the others’ sputtering, Ty crosses his arms and takes a look at Remus. “Bold words for the 70’s porn star who got fired for commentating.”

Remus squeals and claps. “You! I like you! Last part could use some work, but I give you my blessing!”

...That’s where I stopped whenever I had been writing that I’m sorry Logan you are forever just outside the front door 

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Thirty-Eight: As Above, So Below”

Day At Least Seven Solitary Coif: struggling

Alice’s thigh: stunning

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: FP’s jellybean tattoo: incredibly, tenderly sad

Certified pedigree: “I’m glad the Farm opened you up to the possibility of us”: either Alice thought about this to herself, or she (absolutely) asked the rest of her cult what they thought. what they THOUGHT about her sleeping with FP again. “What d’you think, girls?” Alice wine clubbed FP Jones’s dick!

who has more game, FP or Jughead? FP a) is a grown man, b) is oftentimes gainfully employed (I’ve forgotten if he’s employed right now), c) is strong enough to carry a high school boy out of the woods, d) was VERY smooth with his seemingly instinctual “Then don’t. Tell him,” e) did that thing where he took the gum out of his mouth when Alice came to his trailer, and f) looked pretty good in his crisp Pop’s uniform when he was employed at Pop’s. however FP also a) tends to drink when not employed and b) is fucking obsessed with Toledo, a town I will burn to the ground if I ever set foot in it. meanwhile, Jughead a) climbed up a fucking ladder to Betty’s bedroom, b) ABSOLUTELY KILLED IT when he and Betty almost fucked each other in the kitchen, c) KILLED IT AND BURIED IT in the moments before fucking her on the couch when he was all, “Or you could stay,” and fucking touched her dress like she was an angel of the Lord and he was just a humble shepherd boy whose eyes were not worthy to gaze upon her countenance, d) only strategically removes his hat, and e) rides a motorcycle. the hat is not a con, necessarily, and being a writer in high school is a cross some of us simply have to bear, but he is like, kind of a pain sometimes and a little squirrelly, but w/r/t the love of his life, he has tailored himself to her every need almost perfectly

OH AND I FORGOT WHEN HE KISSED HER SCABBY BLOOD KNUCKLES! OH SHIT!

Veronica has the most game on the entire show

I like when they have Jughead use words like “modicum”

“Ben’s death haunts me, Jug. He didn’t scream. Why not, I wonder?”: writing credits this episode go to Daphne de Maurier

YYEEEAAAAAHHH THE BLUE & GOLD CRIME BOARD BABY

I would almost expect something more from the warden’s tie, except that I know plain clothing is, in and of itself, a warning sign

anything that gets Veronica in her reading glasses is okay by me, and this includes Pop’s hemorrhaging money

Jughead can wear just a T-shirt sans jacket or flannel any old time he wants, I’m just putting that vibe out there

“Of course we’re calling it a speakeasy.”

Jug’s suspender game is strong, so really Betty should know she has nothing to worry about

his stupid dumb round face looking at her when she pulls him aside is pretty. remember when he kissed her hands? fucking Jughead sometimes, dude

“Evelyn...creeps me out.”

I like Betty’s overalls and Evelyn’s romper thing

what I expected when Kevin dialed the phone was for the whole booth to sink into the basement like a surprise elevator

Kander and Ebb wrote the music to, among much else, Cabaret and Chicago, those being some of their most gay

I LOVE VERONICA’S WHITE SHIRT. IT’S JUST A FUCKING PLAIN WHITE SHIRT, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: is there some heat between Veronica and Reggie? am I crazy?

the foursome of Reg, Ronnie, Josie, and Kev is basically just as strong as the cour four strictly in terms of hair

I don’t know that I like Penny’s sleeveless Ghoulies vest more than her leather Serpents jacket but I do know I like it at least the same amount (oodles)

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Day One Lifted Bag Off Head Hair: GREAT

OH MY GOD, JOAQUIN!!!! WHEN WILL JOAQUIN REST. DOES EVERY TERRIBLE THING HAVE TO HAPPEN TO JOAQUIN BEFORE IT HAPPENS TO SOMEONE ELSE. IS JOAQUIN IN THE FARM

does Archie have a scar on his head? is it KJ’s? have I lost track of something?

Gay?!: BABY TEETH is an absolute twink and he was tapped to save his life

I’m suspicious of Peter because his name is, simply, “Peter”

Gay.: Cheryl and Toni are just like lounging in a single chair together and that’s the bisexual agenda

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s heavy card stock IS very nice

Ethel’s cute yellow cardigan is back, which matches her thermos and lunchbox

I enjoyed when Betty sits down and you think she’s going to apologize for being there at Ben’s death but instead she just fucking grills Ethel some more

“...G&G.”

OOOOOOHHHHHHH JUGHEAD’S TURNING IT ON WITH THAT PRINCESS SHIT

Please protect Betty: Betty’s entire expression at being told she’s “not worthy,” God bless her

The female gaze: I don’t know why Reggie’s shirt is off. probably Reggie doesn’t even know

Reggie’s panicked JJ face is one of the top five panicked faces of all time. he’s tied at least with the girl in Jurassic Park when she sees the raptor shadow and her hand holding that green Jell-O starts shaking

Minetta doesn’t even pretend he’s looking for something other than whatever was in those boxes. cold, Minetta

REGGIE’S SALUTE

Reg simply being aware that Minetta and the Ghoulies work for Hiram almost brings me to tears. not only is he a walking sculpture with a pair of lips that would make Sarah Steller throw herself off the Hoover Dam, but he is also a genius

VERONICA IS SO BEAUTIFUL. “Not until I’m properly armed.” just look at her!

Ethel didn’t even come to the first meeting of the Farm Club? cold, Ethel

Evelyn offering Betty a pizza slice comes off as her genuinely wanting Betty to have a piece of pizza if she wants, which is the first non-creepy thing she’s done (Jughead would take the pizza)

she of course follows this up with “that darn medication”

Archie looks like a corpse in the blue light

tell me “wakey, wakey” is a Kill Bill reference. TELL ME IT IS

the guy they have fighting Archie looks just enough like Khabib Nurmagomedov that I was like, is this an unconscious wish on someone’s part to do a rematch of red-haired McGregor vs. Khabib except it’s on Riverdale so it’s in something called “the Pit” which is a drained swimming pool and they’re in juvie? (it’d have to be a fantasy in that Conor McGregor would get his ass beaten by Khabib Nurmagomedov in any rematch in any universe, in the universe)

dude does his best but, as Sweet Pea and Vintage Reggie can tell you, you cannot let Archie land a) a right hook or b) an uppercut or he will end this fight

who’re the rando white women watching? their fucking wives? goddammit, white women

I think Baby Teeth could take Reggie jawline-to-jawline

Veronica’s kittenish heels sinking into the dirt as opposed to her striding effortlessly as Moses parting the Red Sea

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: “THAT VIPER BITCH”

Antoinette Topaz is fluent in many languages, including Veronica’s

God bless jingle-jangle: the fucking cat burglar sequence set to “Jingle Jangle” just about fucking did it

Ethel’s candle game is reaching midnight mass-levels of mastery

so did Betty and Jughead get their ad hoc sex den (good band name) out of the bunker before Ethel got there? or was it there the whole time but for Ben and Ethel?

I feel I want to write down that Ben abandoned Ethel to ascend prematurely with Dilton otherwise I’ll forget and will be tricked by something later on

POLLY’S KNITTED HALTER

closed captioning capitalized the Shady Man, the second strangest Riverdale skull

Alice really just did Betty like that! maybe Betty DOES need to live in a bunker

50 Shades of Betty: “The wig. The webcaming.”

I love how Betty always gets very sarcastically OH, OKAY THEN when she decides to start laying out some truths

Alice stands up and her dress has some sort of insane asymmetrical hemline and she’s also got an ankle bracelet!!!!!!

Dilton Doiley Ethel Muggs is a canonically great dancer the DM: Ethel’s little crush on Jughead circa his birthday party has not abated. even when he was being insane about the Serpents I bet she entertained sweet fantasies of buying a pleather jacket off ModCloth and Jughead “inducting” her. so she found herself a coterie of pliable boys who were also gangly and weird and obsessed with details and pacts and she became their princess. so THERE. you fucking bet she’s gonna get a kiss out of Jughead before she fucking poisons herself

Ethel’s dungeon master voice is giving me a sort of ASMR vibe

I don’t want to veer too wildly but she is wearing a crown, her character has “a crown”

dog, was she about to kill Jughead right then and there? Ethel goes hard. Ethel might go harder than Jughead

“You’re asking me to play Russian roulette!” “I’m asking you to play Gryphons and Gargoyles.” THIS BITCH (in context it’s very smooth and bitchy)

GOD BUT JUGHEAD DID DRINK IT. VERY WELL KNOWINGLY, HE DID IT

Jughead eats: Salud is just the sort of thing I’d expect Jug to say before maybe drinking cyanide (or skol, if he had been watching Ingmar Bergman)

I don’t know if I could drink that much Kool-Aid that fast. Kool-Aid and Sunny D always made my teeth feel filmy. I could definitely down that much Capri Sun, if it were in a pouch the size of my shin

anyway Ethel’s sick move telling Jughead he has to kiss her first got an emotional reaction from me at almost the level of when Cheryl came down to Jason’s wake in that white dress

Jughead and Ethel are almost of a height, which is weirdly lovely

These students are legally children: maybe Ethel put the poison in after Jughead had chosen. I maybe doubt she would’ve just fucking assassinated Jughead

Jughead was reading next to her when she woke up, which is just a specific kind of daydream you have, sometimes

Sixth period is Intro to Film: HEISENBURG

Toni’s pictures are certainly shot with a mind to lighting, depth

is blue light the light of evil? Hiram’s study, the warden’s office?

Archie > Dawson: of course Archie imagines talking to his father and of course he imagines his father telling him to “take one.” I love Self-Sacrificial Lamb Archie (or just momentarily self-sacrificing). better than Fascist Archie!

well, Betty’s room has blue light too. fucking forget it then

although she is SURROUNDED BY EVIL at all times

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: “I trust them more than I trust you” is season one-level Alice-shade

Cheryl’s sheaths: I like very much Cheryl’s bosomy sequin thing and Toni’s back jewelry

I also like the RROTC boys in their like WWII uniforms, which may be anachronistic but still hard vintage, and the cigar girls

Jughead doubts it: there’s so much going on when Betty goes all melty and wipes some of the Fresh-Aid off Jug’s lips and Jug, who is not smiling, looks at Sweet Pea helping Veronica

Best costume bit: Veronica is in magenta, because I deserve it

I can’t wholly endorse Reggie’s non-black plaid trousers paired with a solid black blazer but I CAN endorse Reggie as a whole

Cheryl’s Hiram’s pins: I think Hiram has a fucking octopus pin! I think it is!!!!!!!!

the wallpaper behind Hiram downstairs is...interesting. it’s like a cutout from that Disney cartoon for “Winter Wonderland”

we stay on Veronica’s face for sort of an extra beat, so I can confirm a) she’s still beautiful and b) she has a sparkly thing in her hair

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie’s got that thing going on where you gem up the part in your hair

God I love a good Riverdale music/mayhem montage. like what were they playing when Jughead ran the gauntlet? fuck sometimes this stuff is just still so good (“Mess Around” when Reggie lunged for Jughead also counts, though not performed live somewhere else in Riverdale at the same moment)

“Anything Goes” is in fact not Kander and Ebb but Cole Porter

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: I love a good bead of bloody spit dangling from someone’s mouth during a slow-mo fight sequence

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: “THAT KID…..IS A STAR.”

that fucking rum, can you believe it? the fucking shade of it all

Fifth period is AP English: OH MY GOD. THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. OH MY GOD, THE FUCKING HAMMER. THE COUNT OF MONTE MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN YES GOD HOLY BITCH

“Damn good coffee”: the goddamn shot of FP and Alice standing together flanked by the flames of their righteous destruction of the G&G manual

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica is pretty fucking brave to still be living in Hiram Lodge’s HOUSE. and of course that’s what her dressing gown looks like

oh my god, Joaquin is still alive? Joaquin’s STILL HERE?

ARCHIE’S GONNA BREAK OUT OF PRISON AND I MUST CLEANSE MYSELF OF SIN TO BE WORTHY OF ITS GLORY (I trust Riverdale a lot more again at the moment)

so wait, Jughead put the cot BACK? are these two different bunkers? is it the same effing bunker???

“It’s over”: you fucking fool

yes, it’s the same goddamn bunker. the candles are still there! I guess I thought the wicked juju from Ethel’s ~SUICIDE ATTEMPT~ would deter the two of them from FUCKING IN THE EXACT SAME BUNKER but Betty and Jughead literally do not give a single damn where they do it

Jug’s headphones!!!!!!!!!

Cheryl’s expression at reading the G&G manual is appropriately be-Blossomed

The Blossom spawn: she still has a photo of Jason in her locker and I think a sticker that says “Literally no one cares”

What damn high school in America: those manuals have a QR code on the back, so you can play on your phone! GIVE ME THE APP, RAS

who unsheathed Ethel? LORD, WHO LET HER LOOSE?

GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NEXT WEEK: Camila Mendes wears glasses the entire time

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

Gormless Ch. 9 -  Maccon’s into violence, hypocrisy, raceplay, but worst of all progressive politics.

A well-meaning friend gave me a book series that is hilariously bad. The first book was Souless and my riffs were entitled brainless. This second book is entitled Changless and these riff are then gormless.

I mean to say I have entitled them gormless! Not that my riffs are dumb, and the effort I spend on them stupid since I’m the only one who enjoys them. HAHA!

The story is SUPPOSED TO be about how a badass lady wearing a rad-looking carriage dress hits baddies with her umbrella and bangs her hot werewolf husband.  In reality it’s mostly poor attempts at being witty, flirty, and superior.

For the last book check out the brainless tag.

If you want the TL;DR version but want to read these new riffs anyway?

This story is set in supernatural Victorian steampunk England.  Alexia is our NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS protag.  She is a soulless, which means she’s able to negate the abilities of vampires and werewolves by touching them. She’s recently married a big oaf, named Lord Connel Maccon.  He’s the manchild in charge of the supernatural police with a zillion dollars and he’s totes super hot too ok.  Their relationship is mostly arguments about how Maccon can’t tell her fucking anything.  Alexia has also recently become head of ~Soulless affairs~ in Queen Victoria’s government.  She has a dumb friend named Ivy, a gay vampire friend named Akeldama, a family who’s evil because they do the same shit as her but while being blonde, and most importantly Alexia is better than everyone cause…cause.

Last time on Gormless:

There’s some mysterious force that’s turning the Vampires and werewolves into humans. Alexia is in charge of figuring out that deal, and she is doing a bad job at it.  They are at her husband’s old pack castle about it.  Are they hiding something?????

Chapter 9 – Maccon’s into violence, hypocrisy, raceplay, but worst of all progressive politics.

So off to dinner we go!  They talk about what a FRIGHTFUL sight it was that Alexia didn’t style and unfrizz her hair before going down to dinner with such dramatic terms that make me wanna gag. But I went from that to barfing myself inside out when I read the following line about Alexia’s frizzy hair:

“Lord Maccon adored it.  He thought she looked like some exotic gypsy and wondered if she might be amendable to donning gold earrings and dancing topless about their room in a loose red skirt…”

GOD DAMN AUTHOR!  We went from some poor choices but plausible deniability to straight up…

Like a lot of my racism complaints are subjective and nit-picky I will give you that.  But the author done goofed good and fucking proper with that line jesus fucking Christ.

GY*SIES IS A SLUR, AND ROMANI WOMEN ARE NOT ~EXOTIC~ SEXUAL OBJECTS! GOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCK YOURSELF!

I could fume about that fucking egregious shit the rest of the day but let’s try to distract myself with the parts of this story that aren’t openly racist.

At dinner, LeFoux is talking to some nerd about nerd shit.  Ivy is trying to talk about fish to some dude even though both of them don’t know anything about fish.  There’s a bit of drama when Lady Kingair (aka Sidheag) allows Maccon to sit in the Alpha seat, which TO BE FAIR is kinda bullshit, but the drama dissipates with a harmless distraction.  There is a brief interaction between Alexia and Maccon on the subject of the Tunstell/Ivy drama.  Maccon says they’re a bad match and Alexia agrees DESPITE THE FACT SHE LEGIT TRIED TO HOOK UP THE TWO AT THE END OF THE LAST BOOK BUT THAT’S FINE! Maccon ends the conversation about this slipshod ship-fest by sighing out a perplexed…

“Women”

Maccon you’re literally agreeing with a woman right now!  Boy howdy am I getting increasingly sick of how Maccon uses that word. If a male partner of mine used that word (woman) the way Maccon uses it (as this bullshit signifier that #yesallwomen are so hard to understand and difficult to deal with) I would uppercut him in the fucking taint.

CAN YOU BE ANGRY ABOUT THE ACTUAL CONTENT OF THE STORY FAPS INSTEAD OF THESE THROW-AWAY LINES THAT YOU’RE OVERANALYZING!

BLATANT RACISM AND SEXISM AREN’T THROW-AWAY LINES, BUT YOU BET YOUR ASS I CAN BE MAD AT MORE STUFF! I AM ALWAYS HUNKERING TO ANGRY IT UP!

There’s a point where they call Alexia curse-breaker multiple times (cause she’s a soulless that can negate the powers of the supernatural.)  Ivy and Felicity have no idea what that means and don’t know Alexia is a soulless but nobody bothers to inform them.  I don’t know if this is going to be a conflict at some point or not.

Alexia then has to ~make a fuss~ by asking them about the humanization problem. They act like she is breaking some taboo, but honestly I don’t understand why.  They’re having a problem; it’s her and Maccon’s job to solve the problem, so they should ask about it so they can solve it right? Also these Scottish folks seem much more down to earth and don’t subscribe to the stuffy social mores of British society. So it’s dumb that they act as if Alexia is rudely asking why cousin Larry has two weeping pussies where his ears should be, while jabbing at them with a pencil, and making sexist jokes about it.

But she doesn’t ask questions that are going to be useful until a few pages into this conversation which means just in time for the author to avoid it with a distraction.  I have a feeling the author is going to do the same thing in this book that she did last book.  Started with a mystery, dances around it for the vast majority of the book without adding much to it, and just ¾ the way in the book SUDDENLY SHIT HITS THE FAN ALL AT ONCE AND IT’S REAL DUMB!

So it’s now after dinner and the men and women are separated to chit-chat. Alexia starts quizzing Lady Kingair. Lady Kingair says she wishes she could be a full blooded werewolf.  The only werewolf within a zillion miles who is powerful enough to turn someone into a werewolf is Lord Maccon, cause of course it is.    But Maccon doesn’t want to try to turn her because she’s his last heir and women very rarely survive the transformation.  

Which like, there’s no reason so far why the werewolf club has to be vast majority male.  No ALL MEN orgies, and no SINCE YOU’RE THE ONLY GIRL WE’VE SEEN IN 80 YEARS ALL OUR ERECTIONS POINT TO YOU FEMALE PROTAG!  Perhaps there is some plot point later on.  But honestly? I suspect it comes down to the bias that simply werewolfism is considered a male phenomenon. You can read all sorts of analyses of this but basically it comes down to that men are supposed to have a violent, animalistic nature that they try to suppress.  But women aren’t supposed to be angry, powerful, uncontrollable, or like worst of all HAIRY!  So I don’t want them even as no-name background characters yuck!

Also, oddly enough, last book they said that werewolves sought out actors, and arty types cause they seemed more likely to survive the transformation. Creativity is tied to ~extra soul~ or whatever.  So I want to know why all these werewolves are dim-witted, gruff, military philistines instead of sweet, sensitive, arty twinks, smooching each other?  Is it cause her type is gruff meathead and like an idiot she outright contradicted her own story for no particular reason?

SEEMS SO! GOD I WANT A CASTLE FULL OF HAIRY BESTIAL WOMEN AND/OR CUTE SENSITIVE TWINKS! IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR?

Nothing else really comes out of the conversation with Lady Sidhaeg Kingair and thankfully we’re saved from that conversation by the sounds of the men folk fighting.

Maccon is fighting with the current beta.  Maccon wins, cause of course he does.  They both grumble bitterly at each other for BETRAYAL and nothing is revealed. Like I am glad there was action, but this was so limp and tepid.  It could have easily been dramatic and they should have revealed something, especially considering they dump the whole story at the end of this chapter.

So Alexia takes him upstairs for fade to black SEX, cause of course she does. Like I won’t kink-shame much, but getting all hot that your husband beat up another dude who is clearly weaker than him for no real reason is bogus yo. A thousand kink-shames upon you.

Afterwards Maccon FINALLY fucking explains something.  He says the reason why he left the Kingair pack is because everybody in the pack was planning to kill the queen of England and didn’t tell him about it.  They’re Scottish and Supernaturals and APPARENTLY the crown hates both of those things.  She appoints Scottish and Supernatural people to the highest places on her court and we have not seen any oppression but just trust us okay.  They kept it from Maccon, because Maccon is a ~progressive~ and thought killing the queen would be a bad idea.  He believes this because the Queen is giving Supernaturals more rights and that if they kill her that it would make Supernaturals look real bad and innocent Supernaturals would be targeted.

That’s a reasonable fear, and honestly since we’re supposed to be on Maccon’s side she doesn’t really try to explain the other side.  Like was it supposed to be a military Coup so that werewolves would be in charge of Britain, since the military is made up of werewolves? Cause that’s honestly pretty fucking interesting.  I know the author says there are a lot more humans than werewolves…but I don’t know why they would fear much of a backlash if they all have superpowers, lots of the money, and are the ENTIRE military.  The fucking Spartans quelled every slave uprising even though slaves vastly outnumbered their military cause their military was trained as hell. Those masc 4 macs thug bros weren’t even able to turn their faces into dog faces.

Also Maccon’s feelings were really hurt when they were going to kill the queen with poison.

“Poison is for bitches amirite?” Maccon laughs misogynistically.  Alexia chuckled in kind and sprinkled something in Maccon’s 5th glass of Scotch.  As he dies in agony Alexia licks her fingertips in triumph. Oops they still had poison on them and she dies.  LeFoux travels to reality and she has the good sex with me. The End!

Okay that exchange didn’t happen, I just wish it did.

So anyway due to the ~betrayal~ Maccon left his pack and it really fucked his pack a big one because nobody was powerful enough to turn other people into werewolves so their pack couldn’t grow and outsiders were disinterested in serving them.  (BTW humans who serve werewolf packs in exchange for being turned into werewolves are called Clavigers in this book.) But this was their punishment for betraying him.  Not punishment for the high treason of attempting to murder a queen and thus throwing the entire country into violent chaos which could have resulted in millions of deaths. The focus for the punishment is highlighted as Maccon’s feelings were hurt.

I have a million questions about this situation but I can forgive the author for not going into more detail. This is a fluff story and doesn’t need to be bogged down with politics.  I can’t help but be  frustrated because the author doesn’t give anything of substance, so when something mildly interesting happens I want to latch onto it but it’s just plywood stuck to a cliff with bubblegum, it ain’t gonna hold my weight.

Thus I plummet back into the pit of frivolousness, hoping futilely there maybe something enjoyable I can grab in order to save my sanity from this stack of bullshit.

PS – I’m way into the fact that the thing they did reveal is not relevant to the actual conflict at the center of this book.

LOVE THAT!

PPS – The fight should have had the Beta forcefully removed from the fight. That he thrashes against another werewolf about how ineffectual Maccon is.  That he has all sorts of strength, power, and money but he’s just a complacent lapdog.  Since he has been dubbed ‘one of the good ones’ he’ll let the less fortunate ones of his race rot while he nibbles pheasant in his castle.  Maccon fires back how hypocritical it is to say you want what’s best for werewolves/Scottish folks while picking fights and putting the less fortunate on the line.  That he’s proving to the kingdom that werewolves are valuable by being a good example and working within the power structure to help his own kind. Afterwards Maccon goes back to his room physically and emotionally exhausted, and cuddles with his wife while he explains the backstory. He cries over his guilt of hurting his pack, and wonders if what he is doing is the right thing.

Problem with that is it doesn’t make the conflict easy to understand and cut and dry.  It also makes Maccon emotionally vulnerable…which like I’M INTO but seems as if it’s not the author or this set of reader’s fetish.

Say something nice Faps:

After pulling teeth for a book and a half we learn something about Maccon.  And it’s actually potentially interesting.

Ivy’s back and forth about her lack of knowledge about fish was genuinely cute and funny.

[the-art-pile]

The Golden Boy

Ship: Ryan Haywood/ Gavin Free (Freewood)

Word Count: 1,999

Prompt: Gavin has the whole crew wrapped around his finger. His words flutter around them and they do as they command. Why would they deny their golden boy?

Notes: This started as a kind of character study of my favorite headcanon of Golden Boy!Gavin and turned into a self-indulgent Freewood thing that makes no sense. Anyway, enjoy!

AO3

Most of the other crews and gangs saw Gavin as a side piece, an accessory that the Fakes lugged around, and who could blame them? At meetings, he hung off Geoff’s arm and simpered. He crooned into Geoff’s ear about wanting something and later others would seem him with said item, whether it be some sort of jewelry or fancy gadget. Some tried to use that little detail to their advantage, a way to hit the Fakes at their weak spot but little did they know, Gavin wasn’t a weak spot, and every other crew had to learn this the hard way.

Their first mistake was assuming that Gavin was Ramsey’s twink. To be fair to them, the evidence they were presented with gave them no indication that he wasn’t. In meetings, Gavin was plastered to Ramsey’s side. He would stroke his hand up and down his chest and fan his eyelashes up to the kingpin. A picture of sinful innocence. They never realized it was an act. They watched as the blonde-tipped male flirted with the leader. None of the others of the crew made any movement of discomfort at the display and a couple would roll their eyes in annoyance. They were none the wiser.

When the Fakes first started up, it was just Ramsey, Pattillo, and the Golden Boy. They watched as the Golden Boy earned his name. His finery becoming finer with each successful heist, and jaws dropped when the golden pistol made its appearance. Reports of Ramsey appearing in the jewelry shops starting springing up, and they were surprised to find that it wasn’t to case them, but a legitimate purchase. The procured items soon making an appearance on the Golden Boy. Thus, the idea of the Golden Boy being a sugar baby and Ramsey his sugar daddy was born.

This idea was shut down immediately by those that spent an iota of time with the Fakes. Whether it be a gun for hire or held for interrogation, these people tried to dissuade the rumors. Many even claiming that Ramsey wasn’t even the leader. They yelled about how it was the Golden Boy. Gavin was the one who pulled the strings, but no one believed them. To them, Gavin was simply the Golden Boy, a glorified kept boy.

~

When Mogar joined the Fakes, people were understandably afraid as he was a known pyromaniac, but at the same time, their fears were quelled as the arsonist would be on a leash under Ramsey. They were fucking wrong. If Mogar and the Golden Boy were seen within an inch of each other during a heist you fucking ran if you knew what was good for you. A well-placed word or two from the Golden Boy and suddenly the building was exploding and you were watching your hopes and dreams die. If you had made it out that is.

If you saw the two at a bar, your alcohol intake dropped drastically. You weren’t having a good time anymore. You’re cautious and watchful, waiting for the newbies that don’t know any better. You see the nudge and the whisper and suddenly Mogar’s eyes are burning. It’s 5 v 1 and the five are losing. No one intervenes. The fight only stops when the others are unconscious or the Golden Boy decides the fun is out of the moment. He then takes Mogar by the arm and saunters out.

~

If you receive a report of the Golden Boy and Pattillo being seen, you avoid the streets. There’s no telling when one of the speed demons will come flying around the corner. Or even come in guns blazing with a new attack chopper. There were no restraints on the two.

Monster trucks barreled down the roads. A jet swoops too close for comfort. No vehicle or location is entirely safe while the Golden Boy and Pattillo are out.

~

Most outside the crew didn’t see the effect the Golden Boy has on Rimmy Tim.  They only saw the aftermath. The ever-changing rainbow of hair. The reduced amount of words one week that was later met with the rumor that he had basically fried the inside of his mouth with sour candy,

The list went on. Little dares and bets that Gavin would present to Jeremy and would accept with little hesitation. Gavin knew not to go too far, but he couldn’t help but test it once or twice. See how far he could push the purple and orange man.

He wasn’t disappointed with the results.

~

Most can’t pick up on the Golden Boy and Vagabond dynamic. Even the crew couldn’t until it was thrust into their face. Gavin’s hypotheticals and seemingly idiotic questions were met with groans and eye rolls from the other members of the crew, including the Vagabond. There were those times though when the crew saw the Vagabond’s eyes sparkle a bit and suddenly he and Gavin were at each other's throats debating the everything to do with the little question. Multiple times the rest of the crew feared they were going to have to stop Ryan from killing Gavin. What shocked them the most was they would be in the middle of an intense verbal battle when would say some inane line, and they’d both stop, laugh, then go their separate ways while the crew stood blinking in awe.

They all knew that Gavin had all of them wrapped around his ring clad fingers, even Ryan. They could be driving somewhere for a heist, nothing going wrong, a simple peaceful ride. A motorcyclist would appear aways in front of them, and Gavin would lean over, hand caressing Ryan’s arm. A ‘please’ pressed to the mask covered ear and suddenly the cyclist was pasted across the window and hood of the car. The rest of them would laugh at the poor man’s demise, but they’d miss the knowing smirk pasted across their Golden boy’s face.

No one really questioned why Ryan listened to Gavin, seeing as they all did it. Blinded by their own trapping, they missed the gentle touches and whispered words before both disappeared. Later, they’d assume they were just hooking up, something they didn’t put past Gavin. No one visited Gavin’s or Ryan’s apartment, if they did, they’d realize they didn’t have a separate apartment. They lived together. In a house. With two cats and a dog, that the neighbor girl was all too enthusiastic to watch when they got busy. In fact, the couple was well liked in their neighborhood, and the crew never knew about it till they were forced to bunker down there one day. They soon learned that Ryan and Gavin had each other wrapped around their fingers, with silver bands.

~ “FUCKING GET DOWN!”

“WHO THE FUCK ARE THEY!”

The heist had been going well. The stealth part had gone phenomenal, the rest following through with their parts perfectly. That was until another crew showed up. They knew too much about their whereabouts with the heist meaning that they had to take care of a mole once they got out of this situation.

In a bullet-riddled vehicle, the crew is screaming through their coms. Talks about where to go as they race down the streets, a few of them being bandaged as the conversation goes on. If they had a mole, they obviously couldn’t go to any of their safe houses. They were probably already compromised. The talks turned to going to someone’s apartment. Michael vetoed his, as it was mostly just a front for civilian life and he mostly stayed at the penthouse. Geoff and Jack obviously lived at the penthouse. Jeremy had an apartment and volunteered, but was shot down because it was too small. They then turned to Gavin. He liked to spend money and the crew was assuming that he probably spent tons of money on some sort of bachelor pad. Their questioning leads to a blushing Gavin.

“Um, Ry? Can we fit everyone?”

“Probably, though they might have to bunk together in the guest rooms.”

This lead to them freaking out because holy shit they live together?! The long drive to their neighborhood brought up even more frantic questioned that was simply met with a silent Gavin and Ryan. When Ryan stops them in front of their house, the two turn to the crew and sigh.

“You’re gonna have to wait a bit until you can come in. We had a dinner party planned with the neighbors, plus we gotta pay the babysitter.”

“YOU HAVE KIDS!?”

“Furry kids, yeah,” Ryan snorts, “Hope no one is allergic to cats or dogs.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No Geoff, I’m fucking Gavin, very lovingly I might add.”

~

Four hours later and Gavin and Ryan return to the vehicles, dressed up and smelling of home cooked food. The crew watches as they wave at some of the people down the street before ushering them inside. What greets is so domestic that some of them feel like they stepped through a portal into an alternate reality. They can see the touches of Gavin and Ryan respectively throughout the humble abode. There’s a cat curled up in an armchair and one staring down at them from the cabinets. The giant ass dog that bounces up to them makes them all recoil. The animal bowls through them in excitement.

“THE FUCK IS THAT?!”

“This good girl is Strudel. The lazy ass is Pancake, and the lurker is Raspberry.”

“Why are your animals named after food?”

“Why not.”

Lindsey descends on Pancake, causing purring to overlay the current conversation. Slowly the crew settles down and Raspberry comes down from her perch to be pet after a bit. The panic of the earlier ambush seems to be completely gone now and a different panic sets in. Geoff is the one that breaks the silence.

“Since when did you two live together?”

“I think we’re coming up on seven years.”

Any and all movement that had been occurring grinds to a halt at that.

“We, uh, we’ve only been a crew for, um, three years?”

Simultaneously, Ryan and Gavin raise their left hands, displaying matching silver bands. There’s no sound for a second or two before suddenly they all break out screaming and yelling, a few going over to the pair to examine the jewelry more closely.  

“Kinda surprised you guys didn’t know… I mean we were in the newspaper and on the news for a few days after our wedding because someone wanted Ry dead, and shot it up with a bunch of hired guns. News crews were hounding us for weeks.”

“THAT WAS YOU GUYS!? I WAS FUCKING ON THAT JOB!”

“Small fucking world, huh?”

“Can we go back to the fact that they’re fucking married?”

“Yeah, the fuck you guys?”

“Well, we obviously started by dating.”

“No fucking shit.”

“Gav was just a hacker when we met, but he still had a mouth on him. We both were freelancing and got hired for the same job, and just kinda clicked? We’d meet up outside work and stuff. It was kinda an unspoken thing that we were dating, and then about a year after meeting, I proposed. Moved here, adopted our kids, became the token gay couple here, met you guys… Short and sweet.”

“Why the fuck did you act like you haven’t met before when we brought you into the crew?”

“Eh, just a game we like to play.”

“YOU SPENT ALMOST A YEAR AT THE PENTHOUSE CAUSE YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T HAVE A HOME?!”

“Again, little game. Gotta spice life up sometimes, and Ryan and I may have been fighting at one point during that and I stayed at the penthouse as a way to cool off.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“You try living with his snore denying ass and then tell me that living in the penthouse wasn’t justified. Took a fucking sleep study to convince him to buy snore strips.”

“This is too fucking domestic for me. Show me where I’m sleeping.”

[melchixr]

P.S. We Should Get A Dog

Anon Said: A one shot where Hans and Ernst have been dating and they want to get a pet but Ernst is a cat person and Hans is a dog person? (i’m saying Hanschen is the cat person because.... come on.... it’s obvious....pussy cat...)

Words: 1960

It started slowly, of course. At first, it was cute. Little post-its that Ernst put on the fridge before he left for work. Hanschen was so happy to see it when he woke up an hour after his boyfriend left. His vision was blurry, as he had hadn’t put in his contacts yet. (The only reason he had remembered to take them out to sleep was because of a post-it Ernst left on his bedside table)

But he noticed the bright yellow as he was making his morning tea. He extended his hand and by some miracle of depth perception, he pulled it off of their fridge, already littered with Ernst’s doodles and a thousand wedding invitations.

‘Dear Hansi-

Please pick up ice cream, we’re all out. Have a wonderful day off.

Love-Ernst

P.S. We should get a dog!’

Hanschen looked around the kitchen in his blurred vision. But he knew it so well already. He had practically been breathing down their Martha’s neck when he hired her to decorate their new house. It was the compromise he and Ernst found, between Ernst wanting to decorate it himself with fun paintings he had found at flea markets and mismatched rugs from yard sales, and Hanschen wanting to hire one of the high-end interior designer twinks that rolled in his stuck up scene.

So he knew every one of the 1,100 square feet of their penthouse. From the plush polyester-blend living room set, to their king size memory foam, to the print of The Great Wave off Kanagawa in their hallway.

Then, he thought of this precious penthouse becoming the giant litter box to some mutt. Dirty paws on his Indian rugs. Slobber all over his one hundred percent genuine leather ottoman. And fur. Fur EVERYWHERE.

The thought almost made him retch. So he grabbed the nearest pen and scribbled on the back of Ernst’s adorable note.

‘Dear Ernst-

Hell no. I’ll get you the ice cream, but not the dog. I’m going out to lunch with Melchior so there will be come carne asada tacos in the fridge for you.

Begrudgingly- Hanschen ‘

But Ernst wasn’t having it. That Wednesday, when he came home from afternoon bible study, he was happy to see Hanschen reading in their living room. He tossed his notebooks to onto the kitchen table, kicked off his shoes and approached the young blond man.

“Hey there, Handsome,” He murmured. “How was work?”

He looked up from behind his old man reading glasses. “Heya Ernst. It was fine. How were the kiddos?”

“They’re great, Hansi.” He sat beside the man he loved and slowly wrapped his arms around Hanschen’s shoulders. “God, those kids are so smart. I didn’t expect a bunch of sixteen year olds to be able to analyze 1 John so deeply! You should really come one of these days.”

He was quick to shake his head and set down his copy of some boring book about World War One or something. “Ernst, I told you a million times. You can’t make me believe with your little study groups or your big, fancy church.”

“I don’t want you to believe. I gave up on that a while ago. I just want you to meet these brilliant kids,” He leaned over to rest his head on Hanschen’s shoulder, placing a gentle kiss over his thin dress shirt.

Hanschen nodded and pecked Ernst’s temple with his chapped lips. He then leaned back to rub his boyfriend's back. Even after three years, he still got a kick out of just laying around with Ernst. Just like when they first started dating in Hanschen’s junior year of college, all they did was lay around and cuddle.

Of course, they couldn’t go on dates at the time. Ernst was just finishing up getting his theology degree and there were already whispers around his cohorts that he might have been homosexual.

Some supported it, saying that God loved all his children and that God made Ernst this way. Other glanced at Ernst with judgemental eyes and whispered sinner under his breath. So he was quick to be sure that no one knew that he was not only gay, but madly in love with young finance major with Wall Street in his eyes and in his blood.

Now, they were safe. Safe to go out for coffee and hold each other’s hand. Safe to kiss on the subway. Safe to go on bad bowling dates where neither of them ever got higher than a seven. It had taken Ernst some time, but he did finally realize that the person who looks down on him and disrespects him because of his sexuality was not the person he wanted the respect of.

And they were safe to sit together in their home, wrapped up in each other with soft smiles. Ernst continued eagerly. “You really oughta meet Angie. She’s this chess whiz. Like I had to stop playing her because she kept beating me,” His face lit up as he remembered all the kids in his youth group. “Oh! And Ella! Ella is the funniest person you’ll ever meet! She and her boyfriend Eric are so sweet and so dedicated too. It’s really heartwarming to see them together.”

“Are we not heartwarming enough?” Hanschen asked with a laugh, rubbing his hand up and down Ernst's spine.  Not only did it send literal tingles up his spine, but it made Ernst sink further into his seat and closer to Hanschen

He nodded in response and left a quick kiss on his boyfriend’s temple. “We’re plenty heartwarming, Hanschen. But those kids are cuter. Cause they’re not old like us.”

Ernst ignored Hanschen’s faux-offended gasp and stood up.  His voice became very soft, almost curious. “Ella’s also got the cutest dog. I think her name is Phoebe. And she’s pregnant so they’ll be trying to give away her puppies in a few week-”

“God fucking no, Ernst,” Hanschen almost shouted to cut him off. Even though Ernst put on an innocent false, he could see the cogs in his brain working. And he was about to twist the hell out of Hanschen’s arm to get that puppy.

If there was one thing he knew about Ernst Robel, it was that when he wanted something, he’d do anything to get it. “I didn’t say anything!” He acted so soft and naive. “I’m just saying, do you want all those puppies homeless and sad and-”

“I don’t want the puppies homeless, but I want them in a home that isn't mine.”

“Ours,” Ernst corrected him as the shorter man stood up from his seat and aimless wanderer towards him.

“Of course it’s ours,” Hanschen assured and slowly wrapped his arms around Ernst from behind, letting his fingers fall over Ernst’s small waist and protruding hip bones. Finally, they found a home resting over his shallow stomach, feeling the slow movement of his breathing. “Dear, how about we get a cat instead? A cute little cat.”

Ernst turned his head a bit to cast a glare at the man holding him. “I thought you didn’t want a dog because they’re too messy. But cats are just as messy! If not worse. They piss in a box and get litter-”

“Maybe I’m just not a dog person, Ernst,” He replied and left a soft kiss on the side of Ernst’s neck. Ernst sighed and pressed back into his touch, already planning his next step.

Hanschen thought, after about a month had passed, that Ernst had dropped the subject. He prayed that there wouldn't be anymore “Dog Talk" as long as he lived.

Maybe cat talk. He could live with a cat in his life. He could imagine a pretty Siamese wandering around his hallway, joining him on the balcony for the orange he ate every morning. Or a gorgeous,slim black cat sticking it's paws under the door when he went to take a shower. Or a fat little tortoise shell crawling into his lap as he read the morning paper.

So when he came home from work that evening, he was ready too announce to Ernst that their family was about to grow by one. He was ready to scoop Ernst up in his arms and tell him that he was going to take the morning off tomorrow so that they could go adopt a cat and bring him home and pamper him

“Babe! Get out here! I wanna tell you something!” He called out to the vastness of their home. Almost immediately after opening the door, he heard Ernst’s footsteps sprinting down the hallway towards the living room. Barely a second later, another pair of footsteps followed him. They were fast and quick,  accompanied by the click-clack of nails on their hardwood floor.

Ernst got the hall doorway a moment before the other feet. He had a sort of nervous smile on his face as he squeaked out. “Hi, Hans-"

Then the footsteps sprinted out from the the hallway and into the living room. Specifically, through Ernst’s long legs. The footsteps were those of a small mutt, with a light brown  and white coat and two big blue eyes. It looked like a beagle, maybe mixed some spaniel. And she was absolutely adorable. But even that didn’t outweigh the shock Hanschen felt.

And Ernst could tell as he watched his boyfriend stare down at the puppy sniffing at him and barking his high pitched little yap. “Ernst, dear,” He said, slowly. His eyes never once left the dog. “What the HELL is this?

Ernst almost immediately sprinted to Hanschen’s side, scooping up the puppy in his arms, who immediately began licking Ernst’s face.  It definitely liked Ernst a whole lot. “Babe, listen. She was practically homeless when I picked her up! Her parents couldn’t afford to keep her. Please, baby. We have to keep her.” He immediately spurted out. Like he had been planning to say this all day.

For a few moments, there was silence. Hanschen stared at the dog in Ernst’s arms, her dumb wagging tail and her long, lolling tongue. “Ernst, you should have told me,” His voice came out stern and tired. Even though he could feel his heart soften at the puppy’s warm gaze, he couldn’t show Ernst. “We need to communicate before we make the commitment of a dog.”

“Baby, please,” Ernst pleaded, his eyes as wide as the dog’s. “Pleas, she needs a home. She-”

“I’m not heartless, Ernst.  I’m not going to make you give her back.”

Upon hearing this, Ernst’s face lit up. It was like he was just told he had won the lottery. He began to smile the biggest, sweetest smile and began kissing the top of her head. Hanschen couldn’t help but smile back as he continued. “What’s her name then, Ernst. If she’s going to be in our family, she needs a name.”

“Hanschen, meet Igor,” He stated, holding the dog out to Hanschen as if offering the him all the love in the world. “Igor, this is Hanschen, your new dad.”

Hanschen slowly reached out, his hand hesitant before it landed on Igor’s soft fur. She began to wag her tail, almost like she was as nervous about Hanschen as he was about her. A moment later, he began rubbing behind her ears and all around her neck. Igor was already yapping with joy. “Hello there, Princess,” He sighed. He couldn’t help but coo lovingly at her big blue eyes. “And welcome home, you little vomit eating monster.”

“Wow. Good to know you’ve already bonded with her,” Ernst replied and pecked Hanschen’s cheek abruptly. “Because she’s gonna be sleeping in our bed.”

Hanschen’s hand froze on Igor’s head. “On my 950 thread-count cotton sheets?”

[allisonswrittenwords]

Seas are shining bright, and I’m gonna take you to…today’s Retro Rewatch!

In the last few Retro Rewatches, I’ve been covering one-off children’s specials, from puppets who know how to hug, stuffed bunnies who feel more than stuffed, a cartoon icon who learned math is, in fact, useful, and a Mongoose who bravely defends his territory, and his owners, against cobras.  All of these specials were ones I saw as a little kid, and some I hadn’t seen in years, other than a revisit as a teenager.  Today’s Retro Rewatch, while serving as the pilot for a series that didn’t really air as a series initially, qualifies because it has been quite a few years since I’ve seen it.

The (Sporadic) Adventures of Rainbow Brite

“Peril in the Pits” served as the pilot episode for Rainbow Brite, but it would be six months before the next episodes, a two-parter, aired.  The first six episodes were considered “specials,” and aired sporadically through 1984 and 1985, until after the release of Rainbow Brite and the Starstealer in November 1985.  Episode six aired in January 1986, and the second half of the series, episodes seven through thirteen, would air continuously from June 5, 1986, until July 24, 1986.  The entire series, all thirteen episodes, moved to the DiC syndication block Kideo TV.  That is more than likely how I saw the show in its entirety.  By that point (1987), Rainbow Brite had run its (first) course.

Surprisingly, the San Diego Zoo Adventure video eluded me until adulthood.  I still don’t know how that happened!

I mean, I have an idea of how it happened, but how did I not beg to see this when I was three years old?

Anyway, the Retro Rewatch.

I’m definitely going to watch the entire series at some point, which would mean quite a few Retro Rewatches in my future, but for today, I’m covering the first special, which serves as the pilot episode.

From June 27, 1984, this is Rainbow Brite’s first adventure on Earth…we assume.

“Peril in the Pits”

This is Brian.

He’s down, and tells his dog that he didn’t make “the team.”  He feels that nothing has gone right today, while ignoring the beautiful rainbow making itself known across the sky that his dog cannot otherwise ignore.

Meanwhile, a little girl riding her horse, with a furry companion of her own accompanying her, wonders what she has to do to get that boy to look at the rainbow, knowing that seeing the rainbow would make him happy.

Said girl unleashes the star sprinkles and magic from her color belt to plant the rainbow onto the ground…which the oblivious Brian walks right into.

He wasn’t supposed to walk into the rainbow, and the girl decides she needs to go and talk to him, despite Starlite’s objection about revealing themselves to the boy, who doesn’t seem to be overly upset with being covered in colors…yet.

Rainbow Brite comes down the rainbow and greets her new friend, who has “more questions than colors” about who she is, and how her horse flies.  So she introduces herself and Twink, but Starlite introduces himself.  “Staaaarlite…The Magnificent Horse, the Glory of the Galaxy.”

Pretty sure this is all mindblowing to Brian, until he realizes that he needs all these colors off of him, and informs Rainbow Brite that his father is a lawyer.

Whoah, whoah, when did he get all Entitled Brat who needs a Safe Space, whose Lawyer Daddy could sue the colors off of Rainbow Brite?

Rainbow’s solution is to help get the colors off (because she doesn’t wanna be sued an all, right?), but it means having to go to Rainbow Land!

On the way there, the two introduce themselves to each other.  The girl tells Brian she is Rainbow Brite!

Meanwhile, Murky Dismal is concocting a plan to rid Rainbow Land – and in turn, the world – of all colors, and make everyone gloomy.  Murky, along with his bumbling sidekick, Lurky, drive off in their Pollution Mobile (that’s not its real name) toward Rainbow Land to hatch their plan.

If they can stand all the colors on the way into Rainbow Land, that is.  They’re spotted by another one of those cute and cuddly creatures (this one is orange), who races off in his car to warn others of Murky and Lurky’s arrival.

Meanwhile, at Child Labor Land – er, Rainbow Land – other kids dressed similarly to Rainbow Brite, but with a single color work on mining the lands.  The babbling cuddly creature arrives and babbles to the kids, who understand his panic as Murky and Lurky are in Rainbow Land.  A boy in red, and a girl in orange (Red Butler and Lala Orange), decide that they’ll take care of Murky and Lurky.

According to their character descriptions, Lala Orange has a crush on Red Butler, albeit a secret one.  I guess this makes them the Fred and Daphne of Rainbow Land, since they’re going off together?

It sounded funny when I wrote it, friends.

Anyway, Murky brings his “Gloom Cloud,” which will make Rainbow so gloomy, she’ll be compliant enough to hand over her Color Belt.  It is at that moment that Rainbow Brite returns.  The other kids run to warn her of the situation, but of course, Murky and Lurky are hiding in the bushes.  Rainbow says she will never hand over her color belt, and a blast of the “Gloom Cloud” is countered with Star Sprinkles which hit Lurky and make him “full of pretty colors!”

And those colors clearly make him happy, wouldn’t you say?

A blast of the “Gloom Cloud” rids Lurky of all the pretty colors, and the two retreat from Rainbow Land, their plans foiled.

It won’t be the last time.  This is about 24 minutes, so it won’t take long for them to return.

Meanwhile, the two hide on a mountain, with plans to capture the Color Kids.  The kids check on their Star Sprinkle supply, when they get hit with the Gloom Cloud.  Compliant and moody, the Lala Orange, Red Butler, Patty O’Green, and Indigo accept their capture and go willingly with Murky into the cave.

That seemed to be a little too easy, wouldn’t you say?  I mean, even the My Little Pony characters kidnapped and taken hostage in Midnight Castle put up more of a fight than the Color Kids did.  It was all one spray of the Gloom Cloud and “we’re sad and moody.”  It all feels so…lazy.  And that, my friends, makes me sad.  I know it is a kiddie cartoon, I know it is the first episode, but I just don’t get it.  They’re supposed to be brave, and they don’t even try to put up a fight.

Oh heck, I’m just rambling on.  Moving on…

Rainbow successfully removes the colors from her new friend, and seriously, this is how she does it.

Brian braces himself like he’s getting a shot.  Look at that trembling and holding his breath!  All that worry, and it is over in four seconds!

Not over in four seconds, a potential rescue mission!

The sprites become frantic, informing Rainbow Brite and Starlite that Murky has captured the Color Kids, all because he wants her Color Belt.

Rainbow knows there is one thing she can do…rescue the kids!  With Brian along for the ride, she creates a rainbow that takes them to the Treacherous Pits, where the color kids are being held.  This is where her belt stops working, and causes Starlite to float in the air toward the pits!

Starlite cannot fly, but is able to break a potential fall and lands safely.  Unfortunately, he cannot fly (and can barely walk) in the pits, but is able to join the team when they set out in search of the Color Kids.  Rainbow informs Brian that if Murky were to get his hands on her Color Belt, the rest of the world would look like the pits.

Brian is appalled by the thought of this.  But hey, at least he won’t be getting his dad on Rainbow for what she did to him earlier.  There’s that.

Lurky is on lookout, and Murky uses blue Star Sprinkles he stole to disguise quicksand as water to entrap our heroes.  And of course Starlite, who refuses to look anything less than magnificent, sees the opportunity clean himself up and, well, leads himself to water.

Hasn’t he seen The Neverending Story?  This doesn’t end well!

Starlite becomes trapped in the quick sand, but Brian has an idea to form a chain to pull Starlite out.  Rainbow ends up in the quicksand with Starlite, and they very nearly sink.  It is the Color Belt, used as a rope, which saves them.

Seems this belt has more than one use, aside from The Most Important Use…providing all the colors!

But removing Rainbow’s belt proves disastrous, as the group is overtaken by their efforts, and weak and compliant (but not overcome by the Gloom Cloud!), they are put in a cage and captured by Murky, who now has the Color Belt for himself.  Again, it just seemed way too easy.  But I digress.  Now, he can succeed in removing all the color from Rainbow Land, which will remove all the color from the world.

In Rainbow Land, Murky dons the belt and uses it to make Rainbow Land lose its color.

Back in the pits, the Color Kids regain their grip on positivity and try to figure out a way to escape, until they find that everyone else has been captured.  When there seems to only be despair at the realization that Rainbow’s Color Belt is gone, it is Brian who pulls everyone together to plot an escape.

This boosts Rainbow’s morale, who says that they have hope, which doesn’t come from the belt, it comes from “inside us.”  It’s time for the group to get “unmurked,” and with the help of Brian’s baseball glove, Starlite (now magnificently unmurked!) kicks Twink to the top of the pits.

Seems dangerous, but it works.  Definitely the opposite of the “get captured” moments!

Meanwhile, Murky’s Gloom Cloud balloon is nearly ready to spread its dark gloom all over the world.  But Rainbow has escaped the Pits, and the group are ready to thwart Murky’s plans.  This involves climbing the rope to the Gloom Cloud balloon, and Brian successfully nabs the Color Belt from Murky. The balloon flies away, but Lurky lets too much air out, and the duo crash back into the cave, their plan a bunch of hot air.

Yeah, yeah.  Let me have my fun.

Easy come, easy go, the Color Belt is back in the right hands, and Murky has twelve more attempts to capture it from Rainbow Brite.

That’s not counting the movie.

Meanwhile, back at Rainbow Land, Rainbow’s adoring crowd of Sprites bid a newly-confident Brian goodbye, and Rainbow and Starlite help get Brian home.

His dog is happy to see him return.

Rainbow says goodbye to Brian, who responds (very shyly) in kind when Rainbow Brite tells Brian she will miss him.

Brian seems sad that his adventure is over, but Rainbow reminds “Grump Face” that next time there’s a rainbow, to “look up,” and that he might see her.  Brian promises he’ll look for her, and promises he won’t let things get him down.  He’s so confident, he says he is going to try out for the team again.

Didn’t they cut him?  How is he going to try out again?  Does he mean next time?

Ugh, I’ve got more questions than colors!

As Rainbow, Twink, and Starlite leave, and the Rainbow disappear behind them, Rainbow blows a kiss to Brian…

…who gets all bashful over that cute blonde girl with the flying horse.

As the familiar lyrics of Rainbow Brite’s theme play under the closing credits, thus ends Rainbow Brite’s first (documented) journey to Earth, and the first (that we’ve seen) encounter with Murky Dismal.  It won’t be her last.

As I said, he has twelve more attempts – ok, thirteen if you count the San Diego Zoo – to nab that Color Belt and destroy the world by removing all of its colors.  This also won’t be the last time we encounter Brian.  I do know he returns for the movie, but I haven’t seen the other episodes in a loooong time, so I’m guessing Rainbow Brite might need his help again?

We shall see.

Reaction

In all, not bad for a first outing.  The story itself has a lazy moment or two (the capture of the Color Kids, the stealing of the Color Belt).  I don’t know, it just seemed those moments could have had a little more effort written into them.  Like, why didn’t the Color Kids charge at Murky? I know I’m overthinking something that was mind-blowing for me when I was little.

I loved Rainbow Brite growing up, and even as an adult, I can remove my rose-colored nostalgia glasses to see through the childhood love and understand why I loved it so much.  It was fun (despite the lazy moments) and colorful.  As I said, for a first episode, it isn’t terrible.  It was actually entertaining.  The incidental music reminds me of Inspector Gadget, but there is a connection – Shuki Levy and Haim Saban.  Two composers that basically had their musical hands on everything 80s kids know and love.

Knowing that it wasn’t the human struggle to get through “Peril in the Pits,” I will most definitely watch the other specials/episodes of Rainbow Brite, and perhaps, the movie.

As for my next Retro Rewatch, I have a few ideas in mind, so I shall see which one comes to fruition.

Until then, if you see a rainbow, look up…

I’m kidding.  Like she’s ever going to come back.

I’d probably wind up with Joel McHale’s version of Rainbow Brite.

That’s my luck.

Have a great day!

        Retro Rewatch - Rainbow Brite: "Peril in the Pits" - My look at the "pilot"/first special for Rainbow Brite! Seas are shining bright, and I'm gonna take you to...today's Retro Rewatch!

[artificialqueens]

New Man Pt. 5 // Don't Leave (Biadore) - Fucking Awful.

[A/N: We’re almost done! Finally time for some payoff. This is a long one, not sorry about it. Song is Don’t Leave by Snakehips and MØ, here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQGcfudKBBs Enjoy!]

Danny finished sound check later than he’d hoped, with just a few minutes before the club’s doors opened and an hour until the show. Thank God I’m not getting into drag tonight. He had been performing more and more frequently as Danny, undefined by gender or need to wear specific clothes, makeup or wigs unless he felt like it. It was part of the liberation of moving to Seattle, and in this moment he was especially glad because it made his prep time pretty short.

Danny thanked the band and the sound engineers as he dipped backstage to get ready. He kept on his black jeans and Docs, slipping a red-and-black flannel over a black mesh crop top and leaving it half buttoned. He considered putting on one of his wigs – his long witchy black one, or maybe even the bright red mermaid wig as a throwback – but decided against it. Already self-conscious and nervous, a wig would just give him one more thing to be anxious about. As if I don’t have enough to freak out about tonight.

“Fuck, man.” Danny sat in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of himself for the first time all day. He had black bags under his eyes, evidence of insomnia from the night before. After the Brunch-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, it had been an exhausting afternoon: Screaming at Shane over the phone (and later calling to apologize, only to get voicemail), rambling like a crazy person to Jinkx and Ben, panicking over his text messages to Roy, crying to his mom for a few hours, venting to Alaska, apologizing to the Seattle crew, and watching Trainwreck 3 times high with Johnny to get his mind off of everything. 

Still, after all of that, he couldn’t sleep. Even though Roy had said he would come to the show, Danny was to worried and wired to shut his mind off. He pulled his phone out to read the texts for the millionth time:

The first message: If you want me there, I’m there.

Followed immediately by a second: You’re right, we have a lot to talk about. But I won’t let you down.

And the third and final, coming a few hours later, that freaked Danny out: I’m so sorry, kid.

What does he mean, I’m sorry? What’s he going to say? It was that last text that played on a loop every time Danny closed his eyes, kept him awake. The way he saw it, Roy didn’t have anything to apologize for. Yes, he had been an idiot not to tell Danny about his breakup – especially if he was going to try to make out with him. And yes, he shouldn’t have distanced himself from Danny since the move. Of course, he never should’ve started dating that piece of shit in the first place…

Ok, so maybe Roy did have some things to be sorry about. But still, that text just didn’t sit right with Danny. Getting increasingly anxious, he decided to smoke a quick bowl before he dove into his makeup. He packed a small-ish bowl and as he was about to light it –

“You know smoking is bad for your voice, Daniel.”

What in the fuck? Danny whipped around, shocked to hear that accent. “Shane?!” He threw down the pipe and ran over to Australian, nearly tackle-hugging him at full sprint.

“Someone has to be here to keep you in line. How are you, babe?” Shane sat them back by the makeup table. “Besides the obvious.”

Shit. Danny didn’t realize how bad the bags under his eyes were. “I know, I was just about to cover them up. I look like a fucking raccoon.”

“Not that, you idiot. Look, I know what’s going on. After you called me screaming like a deranged banshee yesterday –“

“I’m really sorry about that, I tried to call you –“

“Hush. After you called me, did you really think I wasn’t going to turn around and call Roy? Honestly, you both can be so dim sometimes. Anyways, I called him and he filled me in on what happened in the last few days.”

Danny sank. “Oh my god, you must think I’m such a shitty person. I swear Shane, I didn’t know what was going on. I never would’ve said any of that if I didn’t…I just…you know how much cheating kills me…and I thought he was – “ He couldn’t get a coherent thought out, so it was time to just ramble “ – He made me feel like I was a whore or something, and I guess I didn’t realize I was mad that he has been avoiding me for so long, and it all came out at once, and I said really awful things to him, things I knew would hurt him as much as I was hurting, and I had been listening to Adele, and – “

“Deep breath pussyface, you’ve got a show to do.” Shane cut him off. “And actually it’s the exact opposite. Roy is pinning it all on himself. You two really are a match.”

At that, Danny cracked a smile for half a second – before panicking again. “No! Wait it’s not his fault. I mean, yeah he did some fucked up shit that he should definitely explain, but then he just walked away and left without a fight.”

“Danny, what else could he have done in that situation? He was at a table full of your friends, getting put on blast for his relationship and being called a heartless – “

“Ok how was I supposed to know what” – Danny tried to defend himself, but he was quickly blocked.

“Hey, I’m not blaming you. Not at all, babe. You’re both idiots, but that isn’t news to me.” Danny was a little offended, but he also knew that (at least in this case) Shane was right.

He continued. “You both reacted the way I knew you would – that you knew you would, if we’re being honest.”

Again, Shane was on the money. In his endless analysis of yesterday’s events, Danny had always known that blowing up at brunch would just make Roy retreat into himself. While Bianca Del Rio was always ready for a fight, if you managed to really cut Roy Haylock he’d need to lick his wounds. It was the same way Roy should’ve thought about how Danny would react to cheating…

“But you can’t keep doing this, dancing around things. If this weekend is any indication, you’re both going to kill each other if you can’t just come clean and figure out how to be together. I’ve heard you both say a million times how in love you are with the other one – you owe it to yourselves to say it to each other for once.”

Fuck, when did he get so smart? “Damn, Shane.”

He looked pleased with himself. “I had a whole 2 hour plane ride to think of that.” Danny had to laugh a bit at Shane’s sudden smugness.

“There’s that smile I love!” Shane went in for a hug. “Ok, so now the fun part.” Shane clapped his hands together in excitement, distinctly looking like a blonde twink Mary Poppins. “What are we going to do about this? What’s the big rom-com move that’s going to put all of this back on track?”

“Oh god, don’t ruin it by calling it a rom-com move.” Danny shoved him off, lovingly. “I have something in mind, but I don’t know if he’s going to feel it. I don’t even know if he wants to fix it, his response to coming to the show was so weird.”

Shane looked confused. “What do you mean? I was talking to him when he texted you back” – Danny shot him a raised eyebrow – “and I thought his response was really sweet.”

Danny grabbed his phone and pulled up the texts to show him. “You thought ‘I’m so sorry, kid.’ was a sweet response? Does that mean something different in Australia?”

“What? Let me see that.” Shane grabbed for the phone, and let out an exasperated sign when he finished reading. “Ugh, that little troll sent that after we all left –“

“We all?”

“Me, Jinkx and Dela, yeah. When we hung up –“

“A full fucking army - What was going on yesterday?”

“Oh please, like you both don’t need as many people as possible to help you triage this situation. How many phone calls did you make yesterday after we talked?” Danny was silent, busted. He made a doe-eyed face at Shane, one he knew always made him laugh at how transparent it was.

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought.”

“Ok whatever. The point is, is he going to forgive me for what I said? Because if not –“

“Danny, I think that man would forgive you anything. You could murder one of his dogs, he’d just buy a knew one and name it Adore. You just need to nut up and show him you’d do the same. Show him you want him to stay, and fight for this the way you want him to.”

Danny cracked a smile. “That I can do.”

—

Shane sat with him in the dressing room, helping Danny stay calm and get ready. He did keep trying to talk Danny into all kinds of crazy makeup and outfits for the night, but Danny stood firm in his choice – he had to feel 100% himself tonight. The only way this was going to work was if he was honest and vulnerable, no face or fashion for armor. He kept his outfit, throwing on a quick smoky eye and dark bruja lip and keeping his shoulder-length hair down.

When the club manager came in to give a 15-minute warning, Shane left to go join Roy, Jinkx, Ben and Johnny in the VIP balcony. He gave one final bear hug, moving in for a cheek kiss before Danny could stop him from leaving a lip print.

“Even if you just wear Chapstik, I don’t want that shit all over me.” Danny hugged him tighter.

“Very funny, you cunt. Now go get your man.”

—

Once the show started, Danny was finally able to settle his nerves. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that being on stage would feel like home. In his element, he was invincible.

Thank God they’re in the balcony, I just wish they’d turn down those fucking lights. Danny could easily spot Roy at the front of the second level, but the stage lights were just bright enough to block a real view of his face. He tried to divide his attention evenly between the roughly 100 people packed into the intimate venue, but his focus kept veering back to the balcony. He hoped Roy was smiling, dancing, laughing – anything that involved enjoying himself and not hating Danny.

He had some cause for concern here, mostly because of the songs he was doing that night. It hadn’t occurred to him while running the set list, but Danny might be sending a mixed message: he did “I Can’t Love You,” “ICU,” and “Save Your Breath” from the last album, but at least those were standbys that (he hoped) Roy remembered were a standard part of his show now. He had also worked “I Adore You” back into rotation, and was really proud of his covers of “Million Reasons” and “Perfect Illusion” – all together, they kind of said the opposite of what he wanted to put out there tonight.

So when it came time to close, Danny knew he needed to make a show out of it. Let’s go, Noriega. Give him what he came for. His heart was beating in overdrive, half nerves and half performance.

“Alright guys, thanks so much for coming out tonight. I love all you and this city so goddamn much, and the fact that you come to see me as Danny as much as you come to Adore is so amazing. I really appreciate each and everyone of you from the bottom of my heart.” He paused to take in the cheers, electrified by the energy of the crowd.

“Because I feel so comfortable with you guys, I want to try something new. There’s a cover I’ve been working on for – ok, if I’m being real the last 12 hours, but I’m really feeling it right now and I want to share it with you. Is that something you guys would be into?” Again, the crowds cheered and Danny felt empowered. I really am fucking Tinkerbell.

“Alright, fuck yeah! First, can we drop the lights real quick?” The lighting tech shut off the majority of the lights on the stage, save for a spotlight on Danny. “Oh shit, no not that. Full lights, just a little – dimmer? I wanna see…everyone.” Danny looked pointedly towards where he knew Roy was standing, hoping understood that he just wanted to see him.

After a minute or so of Danny awkwardly vamping, the crew got it. “Clap for the tech team, everybody. God knows they’re the real heroes here. Ok…ok so I better get on with it.”

He was starting to get nervous again, but refused to let it get the best of him. Just like he’d rehearsed, Danny sauntered over to the drummer and pulled up a second stool to sit down. He needed to set the pace and kick it off.

“So this song is the fucking jam, but just yesterday it started to really mean something to me. And since I’m not always the best at expressing my feelings the right way, I think this song might help me out. So, um, let’s do it.”

After a few whoops and hollers, the audience took Danny’s cue to be silent. He put his foot on the pedal to the kick drum, and started pounding a steady rhythm. After a few beats to set the pace, he started to sing: 

You know me, now and then I’m a mess Please don’t hold that against me

Danny had closed his eyes, but he could hear the audience cheer in recognition of the Snakehips track. He kept pounding the rhythm, waiting for them to die down again before continuing:

I’m a girl with a temper and heat I know I can be crazy

Pausing again for effect, Danny looked up and opened his eyes to finally see the face he’d searched for all night looking back at him. Roy’s gaze was locked on his, his expression unreadable.

Danny’s monologue ran as he held the pause – You’re only 4 bars in, keep going. He broke the stare to stand up and cue the drummer, who did a quick roll-off to start the rest of the band and the synth track.

But I’m not just a fuck up, I’m the fuck up you need I don’t see nobody when you focus on me Perfectly imperfect, yeah I hope that you see, tell me you’ll see ‘Cuz I know that you’ve been thinking ‘bout it

He could feel the performance energy building inside of him again, nerves falling away. This is going to work, Danny reassured himself as he launched into the crashing chorus:

Don’t leave, shut your mind off and let your heart breathe You don’t need to be worried I may not ever get my shit together But ain’t nobody gonna love you better

He moved around the stage, trying to get the best possible view of Roy without looking totally manic. No stranger to the stage, Danny knew he needed to let the song build and continued the chorus:

Don’t go, what we have here is irreplaceable No I won’t trade this for nothing I may not ever get my shit together But ain’t nobody gonna love you better than me

 As Danny floated out of the chorus, he was able to see just enough of Roy’s face to catch a sad half smile. Fuck, that’s not what I want. He started to focus more of his energy towards Roy, using the only thing he felt he could – music – to fight for him:

 In a room full of people, with you I don’t see anybody else When we fight and you’re right, so sorry I make it just so difficult

Danny made a spur of the moment choice to change some words, hoping it would make the message come through more clearly. He locked eyes into Roy’s face just in time for:

But you’re not just the fuck up, you’re the fuck up I love We ain’t like nobody else, tell me so what Perfectly imperfect, yeah baby that’s us, baby that’s us ‘Cuz I know that you’ve been thinking ‘bout it

Moving back into the chorus, this time with a bit more pleading, Danny started to feel uneasy. The song was ending, he had no idea if it was having the desired effect, and he just needed to keep moving. Taking advantage of the stage’s two-tiered setup – admittedly odd for a smallish club like this one – he cantered up the ramp to take an elevated position behind the band.

Well, fuck me – that was all Danny could think once he looked up and out. In that moment, the universe somehow aligned into a perfect goddamn moment and Danny was in a music video. The lighting tech must’ve seen what he was doing and, knowing the song, dropped all the lights around him so that he was basically basking in soft spotlight as he hit the song bridge:

Sitting in the living room, you look at me, I stare at you See the doubt, but see the love I have and it is all for you

The focused lights made it so that he could see clear through to Roy, finally sustaining the connection he’d been looking for all night. Time to sell it, bitch.

Let me wrap myself around you, baby Let me tell you you are everything you are Losing my words, I don’t know where to start

 Roy was starting to smile, in earnest now, and Danny couldn’t help but do the same. He was feeling electrified again, but not by the crowd this time. It was Roy, all Roy, always Roy. His felt his heart swelling in his chest, like the fucking Grinch except it was going to explode.

Needing to cut out every possible distraction or barrier that could block him from talking directly to Roy in this moment, Danny yanked out his earpiece as he threw himself into the final crescendo of the song:

But baby, don’t leave me Shut your mind off and let your heart hear me I won’t trade this for nothing

Danny had never felt this energy onstage before, the combination of the audience and Roy giving him all kinds of life. Hitting the final note, he a little was thankful for all the cellphone cameras in the audience to catch this:

I may not ever get my shit together, but ain’t nobody gonna love you better

It was already a long note, but Danny belted out the last word for a good 12 extra beats before doubling over to take a deep breath. He could vaguely hear Shane yelling out a prolonged “Yass!” as he jumped breathlessly back into the final chorus.

As the song finished, the audience erupted in applause. “So, didya like it?” Danny asked coyly into the mic while being nearly drowned out by the cheers. “Thank you guys so much, thank you so- “

He looked up into the balcony to see an empty space where Roy had been, their friends looking around in confusion. In a split second Danny was back in a panic, standing slack-jawed on on stage still holding a microphone but saying nothing. Shane saw him and shrugged, mouthing “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

The flash from a camera brought Danny back to reality, realizing he needed to get off stage and fucking find Roy. “Sorry about that guys, guess I lost the oxygen to my brain for a sec. Thank you so much for coming, you’re all beautiful. Love you.” He blew a kiss and handed the microphone off to the bass player as he ran off stage.

Danny didn’t make it more than 30 steps to his dressing room before he was once again pinned up against a wall, feeling Roy’s lips crashing down on his. And again he smiled underneath the kiss, but this time he did not break it.

—

It’s happening? It’s really happening. Fuck! Danny’s brain was a mess of repetitive reassurances that he was finally in the middle of a full-on make out session with Roy after 3 years of waiting. There was no point in trying to think coherently, because the rest of his body was pulling focus. He felt currents running to his lips, hands, chest, creeping increasingly south – the nerve endings firing were not in his head.

The only sense working for him right now was touch, and it was doing a damn good job keeping him occupied. Danny was drinking in every sensation: Roy’s lips moving against his, with just the right amount of aggression and care; Roy’s hands moving from his shoulders, gliding firmly across his chest and up to reach his face; Roy’s hair in his fingers as Danny reached to grab something – gently – in response; the lack of air in both of their lungs but unwillingness to break away; the slight hum of Roy’s mouth and tongue as Danny opened up to let him in and they both purred in approval.

Danny felt like he was about to go into some kind of sensory overload as he opened his stance, in the same moment grabbing Roy’s hips to pull them totally flush against each other. They both broke the kiss suddenly – half due to actually needing some oxygen intake, and half at the pleasant shock of the new contact between their hips.

Danny took only half a second to take stock of the dick he felt quickly hardening against his own: Well, this is going to be a fun challenge. He had seen Roy naked a thousand times on the road – they were drag queens on a tour bus, after all – but he’d never felt it. He broke a laugh, thinking about how embarrassed Roy had been the first time Danny saw him de-dragging –

“What’s so funny?” Roy was laughing, too, but there was something different about his eyes. As he laughed he was staring into Danny, keeping that electric current running between them even when their lips unlocked.

Danny smiled even wider. “Nothing, I’ll tell you later.” The last words were mumbled, on account of him diving back into a kiss with Roy. They went on like that for a while, making out like a couple of teenagers in a janitor’s closet during lunch. Danny could’ve sworn it wasn’t more than 30 seconds, but he was proven wrong when –

“Danny, you found him? We’ve been looking outside and in the crowd for a half hour and – oh shit!” Shane, Jinkx and Ben came barreling into the backstage area to see Danny still pinned up against the wall, one leg wrapped around Roy and all wandering hands.

Danny felt Roy put only half an inch of space between their lips, enough to get out a grumbly, “Yes, he found me. Now can you please leave us alone?” before immediately picking up where he left off.

“I – uh – see – well you guys…” Ben was trying unsuccessfully to get something out, so Jinkx jumped in to save him.

“What Dela’s trying to say is that you can do whatever you want, but you probably shouldn’t do it here. We were out looking for you guys and heard a a couple of people saying you guys were back here sucking face. And while I fully support all of” – Jinkx gestured at the tangle of limbs that was Roy and Danny – “this, you should probably do a little problem-solving before your face suck gets social media official.”

This time Roy pulled away fully, moving them both away from the wall. “I hate to say it Danny, but the narcoleptic’s right. We do need to talk.”

Danny felt the nerves and the panic coming back. Never in the history of his relationships (or any others he knew of, for that matter) had any version of ‘we need to talk’ been a good thing. He grabbed for Roy’s hand instinctively, trying to stop him from walking away. The deer-in-the-headlights look must’ve registered clearly on his face, because –

“Relax, kid. Let’s talk in the dressing room. I’m not going anywhere.” Roy smiled at Danny, melting away the fear instantly.

Danny reached up to wipe away the lipstick marks he had left sloppily across Roy’s face – in what had apparently been a 30-minute face fuck, Jesus – but his hand was swatted away.

“You’ve got my purple lipstick all over your face, baby.” God it felt good to call him that again – and mean it this time.

Roy shook his head and chortled. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” He led Danny to the dressing room, shutting the door firmly behind them.

—

“So, given what just happened, I think it would be best for us to just sit” – Roy let go of Danny’s hand and lightly pushed him down into one makeup chair, walking across to the other side of the small room – “apart. So that we can think clearly.”

“You just can’t resist me, can you?” Danny was enjoying the effect he seemed to have on Roy, making faux-seductive faces to try and pull out some laughs to keep the mood light. Looking over at Roy, he could see him approaching the same level of uncomfortable that he was feeling. It was rare that he saw anything but steely resolve, laughter or compassion on that dimpled face, so it was strange to see Roy looking so vulnerable. “So we should – “

“I’d actually like to start, if you don’t mind. Is that ok?” Roy cut him off, but seemed to be genuinely asking for permission to speak first. What a rarity. Danny nodded in agreement, taking deep breaths to reassure himself.

“Thanks.” Roy started in on a monologue, his face looking down at his hands in his lap. “Alright so – I have to start with an apology. Not just an apology for what happened this weekend, we’ll get to that later. I owe you an – Danny I am so sorry for the way things have been the last few months. I should’ve told you when I first – fuck, let me just lay it out.”

He looked up to lock eyes with Danny, who himself was too afraid to blink for the whole run-on of the speech. “I have been in love with you for years. I didn’t know it at first, and Lord knows I tried to cover it up by dating other people, but I am so fucking madly in love with you that I’m not myself without you anymore. I am so sorry for not realizing it sooner, and for pushing you away every time you tried to show me what I couldn’t see myself.”

Roy looked back to his hands, which Danny already recognized as his self-conscious tendency. “But when you left…when you left for Seattle, it felt like I lost my chance. I lost the only chance at love I was ever going to have, because I can’t love anyone else – at least not the way I love you, which is the only way it’s worth it. So yeah, when you moved I became distant and I tried to find something else to make me happy but it never worked and I –“

Danny couldn’t bear to hear Roy beat himself up like this any further. “Roy, just stop. It’s ok. Really, I understand. I love you, too, and I’ve been in that dark place, but now we can just –“

“No Danny, we can’t just.” Roy cut him off sharply, taking Danny by surprise. He must’ve registered a hurt look on his face, because Roy softened immediately.

“Sorry, I mean we can’t just sweep things under the rug. Not if we want this to work, and that is literally the only thing I want in the world right now. Ok maybe we don’t have to go through all the apologies – as you clearly laid out in your song there, we are both fuck ups – but we need to talk about some real shit.”

Danny couldn’t deny that at least. He’d seen too many promising relationships turn sour because of haste, and there were some real things they needed to lay out on the table.

“You’re right. And here we find ourselves, locked in a dressing room, with nothing but time. So let’s talk.” Danny was proud of himself for taking charge and being so forthcoming. “Let’s…well why don’t we run through them – everything that’s kept us apart in the past. If we agree none of them are actual deal-breakers – ”

“Then I get to start sucking your dick?” Roy cracked in full Bianca voice, and Danny couldn’t help but laugh. Bianca’s always there to break the tension, that bitch.

“Ok stop, take this seriously.” He reached to try and swat at Roy, but he was too far away. “In fact, let’s start there. The first thing that worries me is that you don’t take me seriously, that I’m always going to be a 23-year-old joke to you. You know, a charity case.” Danny made the first offering, trying to ease into it with a little humor.

“Oh, bitch.” Roy replied, unable to help himself from laughing for half a second. “You know that charity bullshit was the only thing I could come up with to stop myself from saying ‘Yes, I’d very much like to fuck this young boy, RuPaul” on national television.”

This wasn’t doing much to soothe Danny’s fears. “But that was three years ago, and I have seen you grow into such an amazing man…It’s been a privilege to be a part of your life and see you realize the crazy, creative, intelligent – yeah, I said intelligent –fiercely independent person that I always knew you were. And I want to be by your side while you live an incredible life, because I know you will. There is nothing about you that is a joke to me, Daniel. I promise.”

How am I going to follow that? Danny wondered internally.

Roy started again. “So now it’s my turn.” Danny steeled himself for what Roy was about to say, expecting the worst. “I’m worried about the age thing. Before you say something, I’m not worried about your age; I’m worried about mine. I don’t want you to feel like you missed out on having – “

“Ok let me stop you right there. I’m not missing out on having anything. Trust me when I say I’ve had plenty –“ Roy laughed again, but Danny pressed on – “Oh fuck off, you know what I mean! I’ve had more than enough relationship experiences and adventures to know that the only one I want to have now or ever again is ours. I’d trade a thousand random hook-ups from the the last three years if it meant spending more time with you – really with you.”

From what Danny could tell, Roy was satisfied with the answer – he was smiling like an idiot, if that was any indication. He took this as his cue to go next.

“Ok, so I’m nervous that you’re too scared to take this risk because you’re worried about what people will say. To be honest I always thought that was the main reason that we never got together, that you were worried about how other people would react.”

Roy took a few beats to respond, making Danny’s skin crawl with nerves. Did I find the deal-breaker?

“I…I understand why you might think that. To be honest, at one point, maybe it was true. Or at least a factor. But now, Danny…now I couldn’t give less of a shit about what other people have to say. You are what makes me happiest, happier than I’ve ever been. Apparently all our friends and family know anyway, so as far as the rest – well who gives a fuck? I don’t want to hide, I want to climb on top of this theater and scream in my damn foghorn of a voice that I am in love with Danny Noriega and plan to tell the world that everyday. Would that be ok with you?”

Danny couldn’t help but blush a little at that one. “Yeah, I guess that would be cool.” He started half-consciously scooting his chair over towards Roy.

“I thought it might be. So my turn again…” Danny could see Roy take a deep breath, gearing up for something heavy.

“This one is tough to put into words, but I’m going to try. I’m worried that I can’t give you what you need. I know that everything that happened this weekend was a mess, but I’m actually genuinely scared sometimes that I can’t show you the same love that you show me. I promise you I feel it, I feel it so strong, in every fingernail and eyelash and breath…” Roy trailed off, and Danny could see him struggling. He kept scooting his chair forward, unable to stop his body from trying to envelop Roy in a hug.

He continued. “You do everything so honestly and openly, with this incredible sense of fun and spontaneity and energy…I don’t want to dull that in you or make you any less…any less Danny. I don’t want to be Prince Eric, making you sell your voice and cut off your damn fish tail just to be with me.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh, partially to break the tension of something real and partially at the reference. He’ll always be here to remind me I’m a mermaid.

Roy pre-empted his next words, stern and serious. “Before you say anything, I want you to actually think about that. In this moment, with our dicks hard and all the emotions, you can’t make a rational decision. I want you to actually think about that tonight.”

“Ok fine, I’ll sleep on it. It’s always good to sleep on it.” Danny saw the logic, but Roy’s insistence that he didn’t already know the answer in his heart was maddening. “But that runs right into the last thing I have to say – and I hoped I wouldn’t have to say it, but clearly I do. I’m worried you’re never going to stop finding reasons we shouldn’t be together.”

There were a few moments of heavy silence, the things they had just shared hanging weightily above them. It was Roy who finally spoke:

“Well I can tell you now that I’m done. I won’t be putting anything in the way of us, but I’m guessing you’ll want me to sleep on it. So why don’t we just do that. You go home, I go to my hotel, and we think. Tomorrow, if we both still – “

“Oh my god, are you proposing the Sex and the City meet-up thing?” Danny broke into hysterical laughter. “Roy you cannot be serious – “

“C’mon, we might as well do this the right way. Tomorrow, if we both still feel like being together is what we really want, let’s meet back here. We can meet before Shane’s show – they booked last minute him when they heard Courtney was in town. We can meet back in that balcony I was in tonight. And then – “

“And then I get to start sucking your dick?” Danny parroted back at him in his best Bianca impression, not resisting the opportunity to be ridiculous in this moment that was clearly already ridiculous.

“Yes bitch, you get to suck my dick.” Roy stood up and closed the increasingly smaller gap between him and Danny, bending down to kiss him again. “But you’ll have to settle for just this right now.” He lifted Danny up out of the chair and placed him on the counter. They spent a few moments back in their heaven, starting to explore necks and ears and chests, until there was a knock at the door.

“Hey guys? We gotta go, they’re closing out the venue.” Shane could be heard muffled through the door.

Danny reached for Roy and pulled him in for one last deep kiss, trying desperately to put all his longing and passion and love into that one embrace. Then he hopped off the counter, smacked Roy’s ass, and walked over to the door.

“You better show up tomorrow, Miranda.” And with a wink, he followed Courtney out the door.

Danny would be there the next day, there was never any doubt in his mind. It was Roy or nothing, and he’d be damned if he was going to have nothing.

Now he just hoped Roy would do the same.