#them trying to figure out whats actually wrong

[sereia4skz]

Hi!! Congrats on 2k followers! 🤩 I feel like I just followed you and you were just celebrating 1k. (Or maybe I just found that stuff first and followed then 😂)

Can I request a drabble or a one-shot of Changbin x f!reader? He starts feeling attracted to her but is so worried he may hurt her because of his strength, that he makes sure to never mention it. And maybe it gets so bad that he leaves the room/area if she is also there and just he can't ignore the urges, maybe even starts to actively avoid her. Until she corners him and (gently) demands why, thinking she accidentally did something to offend him and wants to fix whatever went wrong. And when she finally figures it out, she still offers to help relieve some of that tension 😏 you know, since she's there to help take care of them and all...

And maybe one of the others almost catches them just because Changbin is just so dang loud 😅

Thank you hon! And congratulations again!!

-⚡️anon (hopefully no one else has taken that emoji yet)

2k Followers Event | too much, too big?

pairing: changbin x fem!reader

synopsis: big, strong oni scared of hurting his princess with his affections

warnings: oni!changbin, soft smut, hurt/comfort, size kink, little voyeur (hyunjin)

event masterlist: #2kShootingStars

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AN: that emoji works heheh

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Changbin has stopped sitting beside you. You notice it slowly, like the ache after a bruise blooms. A shift in shadows. A lack of warmth at your shoulder when the nights grow cold.

He still laughs too loudly in the communal space. Still chops wood like it insulted him. Still gets sulky when Jeongin hides his favorite mug. But if you enter a den, he leaves it. If you ask him a question, he answers without looking up. If you catch his gaze, it drops to the floor. His hand never brushes yours anymore. His voice never dips into that private tone it used to save just for you.

At first you thought you’d imagined it. Now you think you made a mistake. Somehow.

He used to carve you little charms, clumsy and sweet, tucked under your tea cup or pillow, left by the door when you had hard days. You haven’t found one in weeks. It hurts more than it should. And it’s worse today.

You’re elbow-deep in the herb shed, re-shelving dried roots, when Changbin walks in with a crackle of heat and tension, and instantly goes still. You watch him. He watches the floor. And then, without a word, he turns and walks back out.

That’s it. You wipe your hands on your apron, march out after him, and catch him before he can vanish into the trees.

“Changbin.”

He stops. His shoulders rise with the breath he drags in, heavy and reluctant.

You catch up and step in front of him, planting yourself between him and his favorite escape path. 

“What is going on?” you demand, more gentle than angry, but still firm. “Did I do something? Say something wrong? Did I cross a line I didn’t see?”

His eyes finally meet yours. They’re burning. Not angry but wild, like fire that’s fought too long against damp wood.

“No,” he says, too quickly. “No. You didn’t. You’re fine.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

He doesn’t argue. That almost hurts more.

“I miss you, Binnie,” you whisper.

He winces. Actually winces.

“I’m too much,” he mutters. “That’s the problem.”

Your breath catches. 

He lifts a hand and runs it over his horns, frustrated, ashamed. “I’m trying not to be. I’m trying to keep a distance. That’s all.”

“Why?” Your voice cracks. “Because you think you’ll hurt me?”

“I know I will.”

His voice is low. Raw. “You don’t understand. Every time you smile at me, I can barely breathe. Every time you touch me, I think about touching back, and I don’t know how to be gentle enough. I can punch through trees. I split a mountain open. I’m-I’m not built for soft things.”

“You are,” you say instantly. “You are soft. You’re gentle, and warm, and-”

“You make me want too much,” he says, choking on it. “And I can’t. I won’t risk it. You deserve someone who doesn’t have to hold back every second they’re near you just to keep from ruining everything.”

You reach up, cup his face. His breath stutters. His cheeks burn.

“Then don’t hold back,” you murmur. “Or if you have to… let me help you.”

His eyes widen.

“I’m here to take care of all of you,” you say, leaning in. “All your aches. All your tension. Even the ones you don’t ask for help with.”

His chest heaves. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I do,” you say. “And I want you.”

Something inside him snaps.

His hands, big, rough, trembling, catch your waist like you’re a lifeline, but he still hesitates.

You reach up, touching his jaw, and feel how tightly it’s clenched. “Binnie,” you whisper, “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” he breathes, but it’s not a threat, it’s a warning. A plea. He tries to step back.

You tug him closer. Your fingers trail down his arms, feeling the raw strength in them. His biceps jump beneath your touch. His hands twitch where they hover at your hips, like he doesn’t dare settle them there. But you guide him. Let him feel the way you arch into his grip, not away from it.

“You’ve never hurt me,” you say, softer now, lips brushing his. “Even when you wanted to.”

His breath stutters. His forehead drops to yours.

“I think about it too much,” he says, voice cracking. “How it would feel to have you under me. Wrapped around me. Crying because I’m too deep and you love it… Fuck, I think about it and I want to lose control,”

You’re already wet. You swallow and take his wrists, guiding his hands beneath your shirt. His fingers flex once, then still.

“Then lose it,” you murmur. “I’ll tell you if I want to stop. But I trust you.”

That’s what undoes him. He growls, low and guttural, and lifts you like you’re nothing, one arm under your thighs, the other tight around your back, and your spine presses into a tree as he mouths hungrily at your neck.

“Too soft,” he mutters between kisses. “Too small. You’re gonna break.”

“Then break me.” 

His claws dig into the bark behind your head. “Fuck.”

Your clothes come off in pieces, pulled and pushed and peeled away with a desperation that makes your head spin. His eyes drink in every new inch of skin like it’s proof you’re real, and really his.

He sinks to his knees again, this time without hesitation, huge shoulders parting your legs as he hooks one over his shoulder. You gasp at the sudden exposure. He breathes in deep and shudders.

“So fucking sweet,” he whispers. “You smell like want.” Then he drags his tongue up your slit in one long, filthy lick and groans.

Your fingers fly to his hair, tangling instinctively, and his claws grip your thighs to keep you steady. Even with one arm under your ass, he’s holding you up like it takes no effort at all. His tongue is thick and hot and relentless, circling your clit, dipping inside, then back to your clit again until your thighs are trembling and your eyes roll.

“You’re dripping,” he growls, voice muffled. “Fucking soaking for me.”

You choke on a moan. “I- fuckyes, yes, Binnie,”

He groans again. His horns press against your inner thighs now, spreading you open for him. His mouth is wild. He’s wild.

And still, every time your breath stutters too hard, or your hips jerk too much, he pauses, looks up like he’s checking if you’re okay.

You grab his face, desperate. “More.”

His restraint snaps. He stands again, mouth and chin soaked, and slams his lips to yours. You taste yourself on his tongue. His hand shoves between your legs, fingers thick and hot, spreading your slick as he presses one inside, and God, he’s big.

Your gasp turns into a high whine. His brow furrows. “Too much?”

“No!” You grind against his hand. “Just.. more.”

He adds another. Your jaw drops. His fingers stretch you wide and he’s not even trying. His thumb brushes your clit and you jerk in his arms.

“Shit,” he whispers, watching your face. “You feel so fucking good, look at you. Taking my fingers like you were made for them.”

His voice drops to a growl, right against your ear. “Think you can take my cock?”

You whimper. “Want it, need it.”

He groans like it hurts. You only realize how long he’s been hard when he finally frees himself, thick, flushed, massive in his palm. He strokes once, then lines himself up, panting against your throat.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again. “But I can’t wait anymore.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper, “Then don’t wait.”

The stretch burns. He goes slow at first, inch by inch, burying his face in your neck and whimpering, the demon is whimpering, because you’re so tight, so hot, and trying so hard to take him.

“Fuck, fuck, you feel like heaven. Shit- Too much. Can’t stop-”

You’re sobbing by the time he bottoms out. Not from pain, not quite, but the overwhelming fullness. You’ve never felt like this before, so stretched, so completely owned by the weight and length of him.

“Tell me,” he pants, “tell me if it’s too much, I’ll pull out, I swear-”

Your voice is a wreck. “Don’t you dare.”

He makes a desperate, ruined sound, and fucks into you. The tree behind you shakes with every thrust. Your back scrapes bark, your moans turn ragged, and your legs are locked tight around his waist. He grinds deep, slow at first, then faster as your nails dig into his shoulders and you scream his name.

“Taking me so well,” he groans. “You’re so small, baby, look at you, stuffed full-”

Somewhere not far, closer than either of you realize, a low rustle of branches stills. Rooted behind a cluster of mossy ferns, the forest hears everything. 

He doesn’t even mean to look, but he catches one glimpse through the trees. You. Writhing. Arms around Changbin’s neck. A flash of teeth and sweat and flushed skin. Changbin’s back flexed, hips moving.

Hyunjin yelps. Out loud. Then bolts.

His foot snaps a branch as he crashes through the undergrowth like a deer in mating season.

Back in the clearing, Changbin freezes mid-thrust.

“…Did you hear that?” he pants.

You blink, dazed. “Don't stop…” you whine.

He grins. “Not planning to,” before picking up his movement again.

He presses a hand to your belly, eyes wide. “I can feel myself inside you. Holy fuck!”

You sob. Your orgasm crashes hard, suddenly, and shattering. Your body clenches so tight around him that he gasps, stutters, then slams deep again and cums, loud, brutal, holding you as his hips stutter and pulse.

Even after, he doesn’t move for a long time. He keeps you close. Keeps whispering that you’re okay, that he’s sorry, that he loves the way you feel, the way you held him, the way you looked falling apart.

Your thighs ache. Your pussy pulses, wrecked and overfilled. And you feel safer than you ever have.

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taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss @zayn-210 @wolfhallows4 @katsukis1wife @sammhisphere @bangchanspineapple @sunfk88 @sillyseob @rougegenshin @yaorzu-blog @babigriin @tricky-ritz

[statementlou]

I hate this bc even though i was here when babygate was happening days like this makes me think that maybe we are wrong? And I know I can't be wrong because nothing about that makes sense but at the same time is like??

The mixed messaging can be a genuine struggle to deal with and make sense of, yeah. I hear that! IDK, I could say, here are the ways I make sense of it or whatever, but the main thing I think is that Louis is navigating murky waters and his priority isn't our comfort and ease, it's his own life, and we have decided on our own to hitch ourselves along to some part of that so like if it feels hard to be out here not knowing what's going on sometimes well… no one told us to put our life in the hands of a rock and roll band yk to quote oasis, that's kind of not his problem and honestly it shouldn't be? I can only imagine the work he's had to do being in such a weird position from such a young age to figure out boundaries and good for him to have them. And likewise, we should go ahead and be the ones to take care of our own selves instead of getting mad at him for not doing it for us and if that means stepping back a little emotionally well, perfectly reasonable thing to do. This is a hobby it's not our job or our family or whatever, like its great that it's a social community but Louis shouldn't be held personally responsible for maintaining our mental health, we shouldn't even try to make people in our actual life do that let alone someone who doesn't even know us

[laterosal]

🀧 “Shut up.” | WBK Headcanons #1

▽ featuring: haruka sakura, akihiko nirei, jo togame, ren kaji, mitsuki kiryu, hayato suo … no repost on any platforms © laterosal 2025 … reactions of wbk boys when you tell them to shut up. it’s my first try at it, so hopefully you guys enjoy :) … current word count: 1.3k

you were the black cat to their golden retriever in your relationship, and you’ve learned to trust and respect them across the months since you’ve met the boys from furin high. although you were hesitant to start a new journey with someone you now love, you don’t regret it. one day, you decided to play a prank on them simply because you were bored. time to get started with your acting skills!

“can you shut the fuck up?” you scowled at the boy, your eyebrows creased together.

⚀ haruka sakura

he freezes and immediately jumps up from his seat. he knows you won’t just tell him to shut up for no reason. “hah? what do you mean shut up? do you want to fight?” (he will not actually fight you because he knows what you are capable of doing). he points at you as his face becomes flushed, and he narrows his eyes at you.

he then sighs and grumbles, before thinking of a possible explanation of pissing you off. he can’t think of one, really, on the top of his head…

he gets all frustrated and slams his fist against the table, huffing: “that’s enough, whad’dya mean ‘shut up?’ d-did i do something wrong?” he will say sorry no matter what, even if he did not do anything wrong. “i-if i did, i’m…” he scratches the back of his neck as he pouts, his ears tinted pink. “s-sorry.”

“that was just a prank, haru.” you fold your arms and squint at him. he lets out a loud sigh before plopping beside you, grumbling how he was glad he didn’t actually offend you in any way. you can’t help but chuckle at your silly, flustered boyfriend.

⚁ akihiko nirei

he immediately asks what is wrong. something unusual must have happened for you to tell him to shut up in such a menacing way. “y/n? did… something happen? did i say something wrong? did i do something wrong?”

he starts to worry after thinking that he was the problem to your behavior. he claps his hands together and starts to move his upper body up and down, begging for you to forgive him. his eyes were also a little teary because, well, he doesn’t like to make people angry.

you pat his hair a few times and gave him a small grin, mumbling: “sorry, nire. i didn’t mean to make you worry. i was trying to prank you.” he easily forgave you after receiving free headpats from you.

⚂ jo togame

“oh? feisty.” he wore that grin that reminded you that you were wading on dangerous territories right now. you don’t usually disrespect him like that—at most, you would tell him to just quiet down. “you wanna tell me what’s wrong instead of telling me to shut up?”

you stood a few feet away from him as he sat down on a wooden chair next to a table. his left arm pressed against the table as his hand propped up his head, and he lifted up his right hand, curling his index and middle finger. his dark forest eyes didn’t break your gaze, and so you walked towards him and sat on his lap.

“okay, so are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he whispered into your ear as he brought his arms around you and embraced you tightly. you squirmed out of his grasp, not able to keep up the act now.

“it was just a prank!” you blurted out. he blinked at you with wide eyes, then muttered under his breath: “i figured. well then…”

⚃ ren kaji

he bit into the lollipop a little too hard, a loud crack that shattered the treat in his mouth. “wha?” he snarled as he set his pair of treasured headphones down.

when you glared at him (maybe a little too hard), he huffed and grinded his teeth together, trying to hold himself back from not talking. you found it slightly funny, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“sorry, ren, you can speak now. that was just a pra—” you looked at him intently as he exploded into a ramble: “wha—shut up? SHUT UP? you—knowing you, you would never—something was very wrong—it must’ve been a prank…” you nodded at him when he said that. “gah. at least you’re having some fun… i guess.” he looked away, ears flushed when you poked at his cheek.

⚄ mitsuki kiryu

“hm?” mitsuki kiryu thought he misheard you at first. but when he stared into your eyes, that look of pure annoyance startled him. you would never look at him like that, right?

he hoped he was not the reason for your pissed behavior. (he shuddered at the thought of that.) hadn’t he been gentle with you? he had been holding your hand since you walked out of the school gate, gently caressing it and staring at his phone—

his phone. he stopped, swiveling to stare at you again. had it been that he was too focused with his daily login streak to forget to say something to you? no, he had greeted you and talked to you after he put away his phone…

he had a look of horror when you pulled back your hand from his grasp. now, he didn’t know what to do—should he ask what was wrong, or should he just fall silent like you asked? he supposed that the former it was, leading him to ask quietly: “is something the matter? did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, thinking that you took it a little too far. you knew that he would be pretty upset at himself if he knew he had hurt you—but fortunately, that wasn’t the case today. “s-sorry. did i take things too far? that was supposed to be a prank…”

“ah! i see.” mitsuki nodded knowingly, wearing his signature dopey smile. “i’m glad that’s the case. anyway, y/n-chan, do you want to go to the arcade with me today?”

⚅ hayato suo

oh, hayato suo took things seriously when he heard you to tell him to shut up. first, he tried to recall any particular events that made you upset at him—but nothing came to mind right away. you also never said anything so ridiculously menacing—to him, at least. he figured that you were just trying to prank him, so he decided to play along and mess with you as well.

as he sat down next to the circular wooden table staring into the cup of fine tea, he lifted his head up to meet your eyes. he didn’t dare blink and only scarily drilled his eyes into your face.

he still had that smile on his face, as if he knew what you were planning. and unfortunately, you were busted.

you looked extra uncomfortable when he still continued to stare at you, no words coming out of his mouth. you wanted to interrupt your staring contest, but you weren’t quite sure what you were going to say. hayato suo death-staring at you fried your brain circuits completely.

“ugh. fine, you win.” you grumbled as you folded your arms, squinting at the crimson-eyed high schooler. “that was just a prank.”

he still didn’t say a word until you scooted near him, staring at his long eyelashes attentively. he asked: “studying my facial structure now, are you, y/n-chan?” you rolled your eyes at his question, leaning into him and pressing your lips against his cheek.

“yeah. i like to study you to see where i should kiss you,” you murmured back. he chuckled at you, wrapping one arm around your waist to bring you closer.

[keets-writing-corner]

I saw a post recently talking about how the pro AI-art people don't actually want to learn how to do art, they just want free art without paying a commission, and honestly I don't know what's more frustrating

them trying to paint AI art like this whole-y good thing and that artists are the bad guys/grandpas stuck in the past or whatever, or if it's the fact that it's not about art at all and that they just want free art and no matter how much explaining or resource "how to learn how to make art" throwing at them is going to make them stop wanting free art that they don't want to make themselves

and on a side note, I could be wrong, BUT, I don't think I've actually heard of a disabled person actually making the argument that AI art makes art more accessible. And what if you stopped being able to make art because you became disabled, would AI really fill that void? Again, I could be wrong, but I don't think I've ever seen someone who's disabled make this argument, only the AI bros trying to make it "progressive woke" (for lack of a better terminology)

As someone who thinks that the point of art is making it, no, AI doesn't make art accessible because you're NOT EVEN THE ONE THAT'S MAKING IT. You're asking a machine to compile stolen art to form an image that that YOU don't want to pay another artist to do. The only thing it's made more accessible is the theft and somehow convinced you that it's okay/better

and onto my second point that I want to add that I just never see people talking about:

Maybe MAYBE there's a person out there who resorted to using AI art because they tried to learn art and it just didn't work out no matter how many mediums, programs, books or free tutorials they tried, here is my tip for you: THOSE RESOURCES MEAN NOTHING UNTIL YOU FIGURE OUT WHAT MAKES ART FUN FOR YOU

I love drawing animals. I draw animals for fun. I'm now learning how to draw people and other things (like landscapes). I learned drawing fundamentals AFTER I had started drawing animals for fun because I wanted to get better at drawing animals

I'm not saying the fundamentals aren't important and I'm not saying the art books and tutorials aren't helpful. But if you've tried to draw over and over and just never continued because it just felt like practicing/homework, then of course nothing stuck! You think artists only draw final products that they want to see?? No! It's FUN it's supposed to be FUN. There's a reason artists go into crisis or whatever when depression or mental health hits and suddenly art isn't fun anymore and we desperately wish it was and then all of a sudden we got art block because brain no want to do what is no fun.

If you want to get into drawing, FIGURE OUT WHAT IS FUN AND SATISFYING FOR YOU TO DRAW

I do not care if you want to learn how to draw characters, if that's not fun for you it's not going to stick. I gave this advice to my writer friend, and he discovered he loves drawing architecture. He draws that for fun, and now he's starting to branch out

I'm not saying it'll be easy. I myself do not know what the process of discovering what you like making art of is because all I remember is some sort of flip in my brain switched when I was like 6 and I just wanted to draw horses all the time and doing that was fun

But THAT IS THE SECRET okay? I know we artists jokingly complain about drawing all the time and that we hate it, but the truth is, it came from a place of love, of fun. That's why we doodle, that's why most of the things we sketch never become full pieces, it's because they were never meant to become full pieces. They were for fun. Pro AI people thinks it's only about the end product and creating what it's your head. Both of those things are important and motivators at times, but they are not what got us started and they are not what kept us going. They will not be what keeps you going if you decide to pick up art

Can't afford art school?

After seeing post like this 👇

And this gem 👇

As well as countless of others from the AI generator community. Just talking about how "inaccessible art" is, I decided why not show how wrong these guys are while also helping anyone who actually wants to learn.

Here is the first one ART TEACHERS! There are plenty online and in places like youtube.

📺Here is my list:

Proko (Free)

Marc Brunet (Free but he does have other classes for a cheap price. Use to work for Blizzard)

Aaron Rutten (free)

BoroCG (free)

Jesse J. Jones (free, talks about animating)

Jesus Conde (free)

Mohammed Agbadi (free, he gives some advice in some videos and talks about art)

Ross Draws (free, he does have other classes for a good price)

SamDoesArts (free, gives good advice and critiques)

Drawfee Show (free, they do give some good advice and great inspiration)

The Art of Aaron Blaise ( useful tips for digital art and animation. Was an animator for Disney)

Bobby Chiu ( useful tips and interviews with artist who are in the industry or making a living as artist)

Second part BOOKS, I have collected some books that have helped me and might help others.

��Here is my list:

The "how to draw manga" series produced by Graphic-sha. These are for manga artist but they give great advice and information.

"Creating characters with personality" by Tom Bancroft. A great book that can help not just people who draw cartoons but also realistic ones. As it helps you with facial ques and how to make a character interesting.

"Albinus on anatomy" by Robert Beverly Hale and Terence Coyle. Great book to help someone learn basic anatomy.

"Artistic Anatomy" by Dr. Paul Richer and Robert Beverly Hale. A good book if you want to go further in-depth with anatomy.

"Directing the story" by Francis Glebas. A good book if you want to Story board or make comics.

"Animal Anatomy for Artists" by Eliot Goldfinger. A good book for if you want to draw animals or creatures.

"Constructive Anatomy: with almost 500 illustrations" by George B. Bridgman. A great book to help you block out shadows in your figures and see them in a more 3 diamantine way.

"Dynamic Anatomy: Revised and expand" by Burne Hogarth. A book that shows how to block out shapes and easily understand what you are looking out. When it comes to human subjects.

"An Atlas of animal anatomy for artist" by W. Ellenberger and H. Dittrich and H. Baum. This is another good one for people who want to draw animals or creatures.

Etherington Brothers, they make books and have a free blog with art tips.

As for Supplies, I recommend starting out cheap, buying Pencils and art paper at dollar tree or 5 below. For digital art, I recommend not starting with a screen art drawing tablet as they are more expensive.

For the Best art Tablet I recommend either Xp-pen, Bamboo or Huion. Some can range from about 40$ to the thousands.

💻As for art programs here is a list of Free to pay.

Clip Studio paint ( you can choose to pay once or sub and get updates)

Procreate ( pay once for $9.99)

Blender (for 3D modules/sculpting, ect Free)

PaintTool SAI (pay but has a 31 day free trail)

Krita (Free)

mypaint (free)

FireAlpaca (free)

Libresprite (free, for pixel art)

Those are the ones I can recall.

So do with this information as you will but as you can tell there are ways to learn how to become an artist, without breaking the bank. The only thing that might be stopping YOU from using any of these things, is YOU.

I have made time to learn to draw and many artist have too. Either in-between working two jobs or taking care of your family and a job or regular school and chores. YOU just have to take the time or use some time management, it really doesn't take long to practice for like an hour or less. YOU also don't have to do it every day, just once or three times a week is fine.

Hope this was helpful and have a great day.

[hauntedestheart]

A Product Demonstration - Part One (Male Body Swap)

Another story from the world of Business

Ezekiel "Ziggy" Stephens was the kind of guy who didn't have any plans beyond tomorrow, and he was fine with that! A skinny twenty-six year old, cute in a scraggly sort of way, he was actually pretty bright and could maybe have made something of himself… he just didn't feel like it.

See, some people called him "unmotivated" or a "slacker," but the truth was, he was just smart enough to recognize the rat trap that he was stuck in. Born to a low income household, no college degree, ambiguously ethnic (part black, part Jewish), 5'5''… the deck was stacked against him. The way he saw it, he could grind himself to the bone chasing some dream that probably wasn't going to happen, OR, he could save himself the time and settle now.

That was how he'd wound up as the lowest achieving employee at the city's last General Goods Super Store, stocking shelves and assisting stupid customers in a florescent lit prison for eight years straight. Did he enjoy it? Of course not! But he could live with it, and so he did.

He did... the bare minimum required to cash his paycheck and no more- often less actually, as he'd long since identified a number of hideaways he could sneak off to when no one was looking for a bit of impromptu break time.

That was why he was squirreled away in an indent in the wall at the end of an aisle in the office supplies section- there, he could scroll comics on his phone without being interrupted by any needy shoppers. How difficult is it for people to just find what they want and put it in the cart? he thought to himself. It's not that complicated. Really, he was doing people a favor by hiding out and forcing them to solve their own problems and exercise their shriveled up pea brains.

But not everyone saw the wisdom in his thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Ezekiel?"

A deep, stern voice startled him just as he was about to click to the next page of the comic he was reading, and without flinching, Ziggy smoothly tucked his phone behind his hands to hide it from view. He squinted up into the harsh florescent lights and saw a tall figure with devastatingly broad shoulders and a trim waist that could only be one person in the store: Devon.

The young man glared down at Ziggy with his square jaw clenched in displeasure, and Ziggy groaned internally. Of course it was fucking Devon.

Devon Martínez, the golden boy of the General Goods Super Store, had only been working there for around nine months, but in that time he had been named Employee of the Month a staggering seven times. Popular, charming, and unfairly gorgeous with a killer body to match, it was easy to see why the customers and crew loved Devon- he had a winning smile, a can-do attitude, and an ass that could be seen from five aisles away. The only man in the company who can make that puke green polo look good, his coworkers said. God's gift to retail.

Personally, Ziggy hated the prick, and he got the sense that the feeling was mutual.

He had a theory that Devon was from some kind of bizarro mirror dimension, because nothing else could explain why the guy actually enjoyed doing work. Although the two young men were the same age and technically held the same position in the store (general employee), Devon had some kind of fancy business degree that he thought made him better than Ziggy… which he wasn't technically wrong about, but Ziggy still resented that. Devon was very open about how he viewed his job at the GGSS as a stepping stone to management, then to an executive position, and then to someday being CEO, so he had little patience for slackers like Ziggy who were just trying to make it through the day.

"You shouldn't be on your phone when you're on the clock," Devon said, literally lording it over Ziggy as he glared down at the boy on the floor with a clear look of disapproval on his face. Sometimes it seemed like he got a bit too much enjoyment out of putting Ziggy in his place, but Ziggy wasn't one to take it sitting down. With the wall at his back and Devon at his front, he was trapped between a rock and a hard place (read: Devon's abs), so he was going to have to talk his way out of this one.

"Actually, I'm on my fifteen minute break," Ziggy replied, smiling like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "Remember? The ones the company mandates that all employees receive?"

"Oh I remember," Devon dramatically snapped his wrist up (because the fucker still wore a watch) and puffed his chest smugly, causing his pecs to stretch the green fabric of his polo. "Just like I remember when you told Shondra at 11:34 this morning that you were taking your break then. It's 1:56 right now- I don't know how good you are at math, but I think you know those fifteen minutes are up."

Crap, Ziggy thought, but he didn't let it show on his face; playing it cool, he rose to his feet (being on the floor was making him feel like an ant under Devon's foot) and dusted his khakis off, sneakily slipping his phone into his pocket in the process. "I meant on my lunch break."

"Not according to your timecard," Devon replied without missing a beat, then he gave a long suffering sigh. "This is time theft, Ezekiel, you're going to get written up again."

"Time theft?!" Ziggy's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Even standing, he still had to crane his neck up to meet Devon's eyes, but he made the effort just so he could give the resident stick-in-the-mud an incredulous look. "For fuck's sake Devon, the company's not gonna sleep with you! I make minimum wage, do you have any idea how much time I'd have to theft to even afford a McDonalds Happy Meal?"

"Do I look like I eat at McDonalds?" Devon asked smugly, and in spite of himself, Ziggy's eyes flicked down to the boy's tight stomach, which had apparently never known a French fry. "And maybe you'd get a raise if you put some effort into your work."

Ziggy rolled his eyes. "Why do you have to be such a buzzkill all the time? There's nobody here!"

A customer peeked their head around the corner of the aisle. "Sorry to interrupt, do you know where the vacuums are located?"

"Vacuums will be located in the home goods section on the far left corner of the store," Devon said, shooting the customer a sunny smile- but when he turned back to Ziggy the smile melted. "You were saying?"

"Okay so there was like, one person here."

Another customer peeked her head around the corner. "Can someone show me where the bathrooms are?"

Ziggy winced. "Okay so there's like, two people. That's not that many."

"We'll be with you in a moment ma'am," Devon flashed his smile at the woman (who blushed, of course) then glared at Ziggy. He leaned in close, lowering his voice so the customer wouldn't hear, and growled at his slacking coworker. "You need a major attitude adjustment. The employees at this store are supposed to be a team, and you aren't pulling your weight. Now, seeing as they keep ignoring the formal requests I've been making to have you fired-"

"The what?" Ziggy blinked, but Devon just ignored him.

"-I'm going to look at this as an opportunity to flex my leadership skills, and help mold you into a model employee."

Blink. "Oh wow!" Ziggy gave him a thumbs up. "Good luck with that."

He moved to brush past Devon and make his escape, but the bigger boy caught his wrist and effortlessly tugged him closer, causing Ziggy to curse Devon's muscles- so pretty, but so inconvenient. Ziggy supposed he could make a fuss, but then he'd have to explain why he wasn't in his designated section and risk getting in trouble, so he settled for the lesser of two evils and resolved to just sit through whatever boring lecture Devon had prepared.

"Listen closely, because I'm gonna tell you what's gonna happen next," Devon reached over and tilted Ziggy's face with his hand so Ziggy was looking him in the eyes, and Ziggy squirmed uncomfortably under his stern gaze. "There's gonna be a big public presentation for a new product that the store is launching and Shondra put out a request for two employees to assist her- I've decided that you're volunteering with me."

"What?" To Ziggy, this sounded like a joke, but he'd never heard Devon make one of those so he was probably serious, which… "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because I told Shondra this morning that you agreed, so you can't flake out," Devon shrugged. "What I'm hoping is that being in front of a live audience will force you to either shape up, or result in you falling so flat on your face that they have no choice but to fire you. It's that or I file another complaint with management about your lax work ethic- yes, they haven't listened to any of the others, but unlike you, I don't quit. I keep it up, eventually, you'll be out of a job."

Ziggy allowed himself five seconds to hope that someone was about to run out with a camera and tell him he was being punked, then he crashed back down to reality, where Devon staring at him with a smug expression on his stupidly symmetrical face. And the prick looked like he was waiting for an answer, so Ziggy chewed his lip (a tic he had when he was thinking hard) and considered his options.

In-house demonstrations were fairly common around the GGSS whenever there was some kind of sale or special event, but Ziggy found them incredibly corny and avoided them like the plague. They involved many of Ziggy's least favorite things: public speaking, customer interaction, pretending to care, and worst of all, sterile corporate humor. Cruise ship level entertainment, if that. The perfect gig for someone like Devon, who probably jacked off to the company catalogue, but far beneath a sophisticated soul like Ezekiel "Ziggy" Stephens, who had seen every episode of American Dad.

Plus the whole thing was Devon's idea, which meant Ziggy instantly disliked it. Saying no would piss Devon off, and that was always hilarious… but it would also mean an awkward conversation with Shondra, and that was likely to be painful and potentially result in unemployment. Ziggy didn't like this job, but he was used to it, so he probably shouldn't lose it.

Another rock, another hard place, another sucky day at work.

"Okay, you win," Ziggy huffed out, doing his best to sound as unenthused as possible (as was his right). "I look forward to being a model employee tomorrow."

"That's what I like to hear," Devon smiled and released him, clapped him a few times on the shoulder in an ostensibly friendly, corporate way, but he the blows still hit hard enough to shake Ziggy's teeth. On top of that, he had the audacity to take out a pocket sized bottle of hand sanitizer. "Now get back to work."

He strutted out of the aisle with his head held high, nodding to the customer (who Ziggy had forgotten until that point) as he passed, and the woman stared expectantly at Ziggy.

"This is awkward, but I really need to go to the restroom."

"Oh my god, just look for the sign that tells you where it is," Ziggy snapped, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Does it look like it's my job to just help randos?"

The customer's eyes flicked down to Ziggy's work polo with its conspicuous nametag. "…Yes?"

Damn it.

---

Pissing off the manager by flaking on an obligation he had (unwillingly) volunteered for didn't really gel with Ziggy's motto of "stay under the radar," so despite the strong temptation to play hooky just to spite Devon, the slacker showed up to work the next morning bright and early only ten minutes late. An Asian girl around his age was waiting for him in the employee lounge, and the shit eating grin on her face when he entered told him that he was in for a real bitch of a day.

"Oh my god, it's Ziggy, the star of General Goods Super Store's big presentation!" Kimiko gasped with mock excitement and pulled a slip of paper out of her sleeve. "I'm so gagged, can you sign this for me?"

It was Ziggy's timecard, punched at the actual time he was supposed to be arrive, and the corners of her eyes crinkled mischievously as Ziggy snatched it away from her. Kimiko was the only person in the store that Ziggy considered a friend, and a pretty damn good one too if the amount of time fraud they committed for each other was any indication. She was a more competent worker than Ziggy so she blended in better than he did, but Ziggy knew better. Behind her sweet face the girl was just as twisted and sardonic as he was… probably more. She was also a horrific gossip, so Ziggy didn't question how she knew that he was doing the presentation- she'd probably known before he did.

"Please show me a little bit of sympathy, I've basically been drafted for war," he deadpanned as he fished his balled up uniform shirt out of his backpack- it would probably be easier to come to work already dressed, but he refused to wear the unflattering puke green polo a second longer than he was required to. "Working here is humiliating enough without an audience."

"You mean you aren't looking forwards to cozying up to Dump Truck Devon?" Kimiko purred then made a motion with her hands was completely inappropriate for work, but Ziggy didn't even bat an eye- sexualizing the resident beefcake was one of his friend's favorite subjects, so if anything, the fact that she hadn't mentioned his dick meant this was tame for her. "Ooh, maybe we're opening a spa division and you two are going to give each other naked massages. Getting all oiled up and sweaty, rubbing your hands all over each others' bodies… now that would get people in the store."

A faraway, dreamy look came to Kimiko's eyes as visions of hot, corporate approved yaoi danced in her head, and Ziggy yanked his t-shirt off and threw it in her face.

"Keep it in your pants," Ziggy snorted- although he'd be lying if he said he didn't think the idea was a little hot. He thought about what Devon would look like shirtless, how those fat pecs of his would look if they were freed from his shirt and how good those abs would feel if he got to run his hands over them… Ziggy glanced down at his own torso (bland and lacking any real definition) and pulled his uniform shirt on. "With my luck, we'll probably be cleaning out porta-potties or something… I bet that Douchebag Devon would love that, the sick fuck. He's such a neat freak, I bet he dreams about plunging toilets."

"I'd let him plunge my toilet���" Then Kimiko registered what she said and cringed. "Yeah, no, that was gross, I went too far. Retracting that and issuing an emergency subject change- hey, did you know that nobody knows what the new service is? It's like some super duper top secret Raynforest product, but it must be big because apparently Shondra had to pull a bunch of strings to get it unveiled here. I guess she's kinda desperate, because of, you know, all the stuff in the news."

Ziggy (who hadn't willingly consumed any news in years) cocked his head. "The what? What stuff?"

Kimiko snickered. "Dude, you don't pay attention to anything do you?"

"I am of the mindset that if it is important, then I will hear about it- I'm hearing about it right now actually! From you. When you tell me." Ziggy crossed his arms and stared at her expectantly, and Kimiko stared back at him like he was a moron, and they had a little staring contest that lasted for five blisteringly silent seconds before Kimiko threw her hands in the air.

"Fine!" The young woman heaved a great sigh and plopped herself on the lounge table (employees were not supposed to sit on the tables, but Ziggy wasn't a snitch), kicking her legs idly as she spun the sad corporate tale. "As you should know, our parent company almost went bankrupt last year and got bought out by Raynforest, which was like a whole big thing at the time, but it didn't mean much for us because the agreement between the companies was that franchised stores would continue operating. But now, word on the street is that Raynforest is planning to shut down all of the General Goods Super Stores due to declining profits- which is ironic because Raynforest Primary with free shipping is basically what put the GGSS company out of business in the first place."

"What?" Ziggy furrowed his brow. Declining profits? He had trouble believing that. If the store was doing so badly, why was he stuck stocking so many shelves? "That doesn't make any sense, hordes of people come through here every day, the store must be rolling in cash."

"Not really how it works dude," Kimiko gave him a pitying look. "If the company goes down, the store goes with it. Why do you think all of these businesses have been closing lately? Retail is dying."

"But- but where will the customers go?" Ziggy asked. An unfamiliar feeling piercing his normally impenetrable shell of nonchalance- anxiety. Where will I go?

"The internet," Kimiko shrugged, apparently nonplussed by the looming specter of unemployment. "That's the future."

Ziggy glanced around at the concrete walls of the store- usually they felt like a prison, but at that moment, they were starting to feel very fragile. General Goods Super Store was the only job Ziggy had ever had, and while he didn't pretend to like it, he was at least used to it. Sure work was hell but the thought of it going away was… worrisome.

And then, as if things weren't bad enough, Devon showed up.

The handsome young man came through the door to the shop floor looking as prim and proper as ever- shirt starched, hair perfectly styled, and broad chest held high with confidence -and suddenly every female employee loitering about became very occupied with prettying themselves up. This included Kimiko, who shamelessly tugged her top down to expose a bit more cleavage and began twirling a lock of hair with one hand while blocking Ziggy's attempts to elbow her in the ribs with the other.

"Hey Devon!" she called over to him, batting her eyelashes in his direction. "How are you doing this morning?"

"Looking forwards to another great day at work," Devon said- and for all Ziggy knew, the fucker actually meant it. The guy often bragged about how he ran three miles every morning before work, unlike Ziggy, who could barely roll out of bed without coffee. "And how are you doing today Kimiko?"

"I'm doing amazing Devon," Kimiko purred, leaning in closer and giving him a pat on his muscular shoulder that lasted just long enough to register as friendly rather than harassment. If Devon noticed the way Kimiko was drooling all over him, he didn't comment on it, which just egged her on. "I can't wait to see you and Ziggy do the big presentation today. He's been telling me all about how excited he is to get the chance to get hands on with you!"

"I'm sure he has," Devon flashed Kimiko a grin that left her swooning, but when he turned to Ziggy, the smile dropped off his face like he'd flicked a switch. His eyes gave the slacker a quick, clinical once-over, and his lips tightened judgmentally. "That's what you're wearing?"

"I know, right? These uniforms are ugly as hell," Ziggy tugged the hem of his shirt out and glanced down at the unflattering puke green thing with a grimace. "But it's my work shirt, and we're at work, so…"

"You couldn't have ironed it?" Devon said, his voice strained like the sight of wrinkles was causing him physical pain, and he winced when he noticed a stain above one of Ziggy's ribs. "Or at least washed it?"

"There was an emergency," Ziggy shrugged- the emergency, of course, being that he didn't want to do that shit. But Devon was not placated.

"You're representing the General Goods Super Store brand today, would it kill you to put a little effort into your appearance?" he snapped, muscles tight with frustration. Without asking, he reached over and tugged at the hem of Ziggy's shirt, trying to no avail to tug the wrinkles out. Ziggy and Kimiko exchanged incredulous looks, but neither of them tried to stop him. "You're going to make us look bad."

"Hey, I wasn't hired for my looks," Ziggy winked and flicked one of Devon's pecs, smiling at the way it shook- he normally wouldn't be so bold, but hey, Devon had gotten in his space first. "That's what we have Corporate Kiss-Ass Ken for."

"Corporate Kiss-Ass WHAT?" Devon asked with a gasp, seeming more affronted about being compared to a fashion doll than being poked in the tit. For a second Ziggy thought he'd finally goaded the asshole into a breakdown, but before Mount Devon could erupt, he just took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. "Whatever, look, just- this is a really important presentation today and I don't want you fucking it up, okay? Please be on your best behavior."

Ziggy smiled his buttery smile. "I'm always on my best behavior."

"That's what worries me…" Devon muttered, giving Ziggy another weary once-over, before wearily resigning himself to the fact that this really was as good as it was going to get. He clenched his jaw in frustration, which gave him a sort of sexy brooding look, and Ziggy once again lamented how unfair it was that the guy could look so good while being such a tool.

"Hey, need I remind you that me doing the presentation was your brilliant idea?" Ziggy pointed out, unwilling to take all the blame unfairly. "Gotta say dude, your fancy college education is failing you if these are the types of plans you come up with."

And that was the big red button that would always set Devon off- the guy lived and breathed the grind, so insulting his business savvy was tantamount to blasphemy. Ziggy leaned back casually in a lackadaisical way that he just knew would piss Devon off and watched with amusement as Devon's face grew flushed and his chest heaved up and down as he did deep breathing exercises to try and control his temper. He might have even succeeded too, if Ziggy hadn't scraped some earwax out of his ear and wiped it on the hem of his shirt.

Devon grabbed Ziggy by the collar and yanked him close, glaring down at the shorter boy with fire in his eyes; this would have been intimidating had Ziggy been making eye contact instead of not so subtly checking out Devon's arms. The strain of holding the slacker up up was putting his muscular biceps on full display, and Ziggy had a great view of them from his position dangling from Devon's fists. I should do this more often, he thought to himself.

"Listen here you little-" Devon began, but he abruptly cut himself off and a smile appeared on his face. "Good morning Shondra! Lovely to see you."

It was a little bit freaky to see how quickly he switched from mad to model employee, but Ziggy didn't have time to contemplate what he'd seen before he was dropped to the floor and spun around to face Shondra, who had apparently entered the employee lounge at some point during their banter. Devon wrapped his arm around Ziggy and pulled him close, clearly trying to make it seem like the two of them were buddies and NOT like he had just been threatening another employee, and it was a bit unfair of him to use his superior strength to trap the smaller boy under his armpit… but hey, Ziggy wasn't complaining.

The pageantry was a bit pointless though as Shondra just smiled at them like she hadn't noticed anything- she never did. As a rule, Ziggy hated corporate overlords and middle managers for being useless leeches who were destroying society, but Shondra was chill. A petite, plus size black woman with neat braids, in the two decades that she'd been running the store, no one had ever seen her without a smile- according to legend, an armed robber had once held her at gunpoint and she'd still asked him if he was having a nice day. Ziggy wasn't sure how many managers would put up with a lax guy like him, but Shondra seemed content to leave him to his own devices as long as he didn't push the envelope too far, so Ziggy made sure to respect her in turn.

"Good morning team! Devon, Kimiko, Ezekiel," she chirped- she always used Ziggy's full name, but he didn't really mind because he felt like it gave him a bit of distance from her. He didn't owe his boss the real him. "Is everyone excited for the big day?"

"I'm excited for every day working here," Devon beamed his pearly whites, and Kimiko also gave a smile and an enthusiastic nod. Shondra's eyes rested on Ziggy, unblinking, until he managed to offer up a grunt that seemed to appease her. She reached up and fixed the collar of his shirt (which had been made crooked when Devon manhandled him) and smiled at her handiwork when she was done. "It's going to be another super day at the Super Store."

Ziggy risked an eye roll, which Shondra luckily missed because Kimiko (never one to miss her chance to get the gossip) had snatched their boss's attention.

"Hey Shondra, I heard someone saying that Raynforest wants to shut down all of their retail locations," she asked nonchalantly. "Is the store in trouble?"

"Oh don't you listen to those rumors," Shondra waved her hand, brushing away invisible worries, and there was a warm look in her eyes as she gazed around the room. Ziggy had never seen someone appear so fond of stucco walls and linoleum floors. "I've kept this store going through a recession, a pandemic, two hurricanes, four warehouse fires, too many boycotts to count, and a Hooters opening up across the street. This store is like family to me, and I take care of my family. Every person here is valuable- even Ezekiel." Then she winked at him (to his confusion) and clapped her hands together. "Speaking of which, are you boys excited about the big product demonstration?"

Ziggy plastered on a smile. "Is there any other choice?"

"He's very excited," Devon jumped in, his arm tightening around Ziggy like a vice as he tried to squeeze the insubordination out of the smaller boy. He shook his unwilling companion with a bit more force than was necessary, and Ziggy forced himself to keep grinning. "And so am I! It's always a pleasure when we get the chance to go above and beyond to help the store. Hopefully there will be more opportunities like this in the future!"

Ziggy coughed into his fist. "Suck-up."

With a smile on his face, Devon angled his head away from Shondra and leaned in close to Ziggy. "I'd call you a dead end loser," he whispered through his teeth, so close Ziggy could feel the man's breath on the shell of his ear. "But that would be unprofessional. Don't fuck this up, okay?"

Kimiko jumped in. "Well I'm excited to watch, I think it's so cool we're getting a-" she paused and gave a theatrical tilt of her head. "-what did you say it was Shondra? Ziggy told me earlier, but it's slipped my mind."

"Very sneaky Kimiko," Shondra wagged her finger. "But I haven't told anyone yet, not even Ziggy and Devon, and it's going to stay that way until it's unveiled."

"Wait, for real?" Bewildered, Ziggy looked sidelong at Devon, who just shook his head. "Aren't we supposed to be demonstrating? Don't we need to like… know what it is?"

"Don't you worry about that, I've taken care of everything! I made a vision board," she said, as if that explained anything. Then, seeming to sense Ziggy's continued hesitation, her smile softened to something a bit more understanding and she leaned in closer, placing one hand on his shoulder, and the other on Devon's. Ziggy squirmed uncomfortably. "I know, I know, all this secrecy is way too much, but it's important that the customers see your real reactions to what we're offering. We only get one chance to make a first impression and I think you two-" She glanced between the odd couple of young men, then a strange giggle bubbled out of her throat. "Oh, you two are going to be just perfect! I've got a good feeling about this."

Ziggy was feeling increasingly worse, but the iron grip around his shoulders and the relentless charm offensive being blasted in his face left him with no choice but to smile weakly and offer a thumbs up. Above him, Devon was chattering on to Shondra about something or other, but Ziggy couldn't be bothered to listen to whatever that was- instead he shot Kimiko a look that screamed "help me!"

When asking Kimiko for anything, the odds were 50/50 that she'd make things worse just to be funny, but it seemed she was feeling gracious (or at least, sorry for Ziggy) because she tapped their manager on the shoulder.

"Oh by the way Shondra, I just wanted to compliment you on the decorations out front," Kimiko smiled sweetly. "I like how subtle and minimalist all of the decorations are- not too many balloons."

"Not too many balloons? You don't think there's enough balloons?" Shondra gasped, and her head whipped towards the front of the store. "Sorry team, I'd love to stay and chat, but this is an emergency. I'll see you all at the presentation."

Shondra turned on her heels and began scurrying away to address the urgent decor crisis, and Ziggy sighed with relief at having survived another interaction with his manager without losing his job. Now that there was no one watching, he tried to tug himself out of Devon's grip, but that turned out to be unnecessary as the bigger boy practically tossed him to the side like a piece of rubbish and darted off after Shondra without sparing either of his coworkers a second glance.

Kimiko and Ziggy stared at the way his round ass bounced in his khakis as he jogged away, and the two sighed in unison.

"It is such a shame that all that-" Kimiko made a lewd motion with her hands. "-is wasted on all that."

Ziggy nodded in agreement. "Such an ass does not deserve such an ass."

---

Balloons, streamers, and eyesore signs had been hung throughout the store in celebration, but the centerpiece of the event had mysteriously appeared in the store overnight: a large something covered in a tarp and surrounded by rope barriers. As the two lucky volunteers, Ziggy and Devon had been allowed to stand behind the ropes, but when Ziggy tried to peek beneath the tarp, he'd been rudely manhandled by a private security guard from the Raynforest Corp. (figured that they had their own private militia) who told him that whatever was beneath it was top secret, and he would be in breach of several contracts if he tried that again.

"It's not that serious," Ziggy mumbled, but he couldn't deny that all the secrecy just made him more curious than ever. And he was not alone in that.

Apparently word about the new service had been buzzing around town for weeks, and the aura of mystery around all the proceedings had was better advertising than all the fliers and e-mail blasts in the world- this was the kind of foot traffic reserved for major holidays and video game console releases, and all of them would get to see Ziggy be humiliated.

Contrary to popular belief, the slacker did have some sense of shame- it was all well and good to do a shitty job when no one was looking and no one cared, but in front of a giant ass crowd? His options were behave like a trained chimp or look like a stupid ape, and he wasn't thrilled with either choice. (His primate of choice was those monkeys that spent all day sitting in hot springs, but of course, that was more of a pipe dream.)

He took small solace in the fact that most eyes were not on him- not with Devon was standing right there by his side, back ramrod straight and a cheesy smile plastered on his perfectly symmetrical face. Ziggy suspected that half the people there had no clue there was even a product demonstration set to happen and just wanted an excuse to stare at the store's resident beefcake, who was practically glowing from all the attention. The boy exuded confidence like he was born to be in front of a crowd- or to be a model on The Price Is Right, Ziggy snickered to himself.

The contrast between the two was almost comical, with Devon's tall, strapping figure easily dwarfing Ziggy's twiggy form, and Ziggy once again wondered why he was there. He hunched over and tried to blend in to the background, but a sharp elbow in the rib made him flinch and glare over at Devon, who shot back a dirty look. Straighten up, the taller boy mouthed, puffing his chest out, and Ziggy rolled his eyes. Ziggy barely had a chest to puff out, and if Devon wanted him to go straight, he'd be waiting a while.

There was also a random redheaded woman in a waiting behind the rope barriers standing next to Shondra, tapping her foot impatiently as she glanced at her watch- Ziggy had no clue who she was (based on her power suit, she was some kind of executive) or what she was doing there, but since nothing about the situation had been explained to him, this was par for the course.

Then, at 10:30 on the dot, Shondra stepped up to the microphone and smiled at the crowd.

"Good morning everyone, thank you so much for coming out! It really does mean the world to us." She placed her hand over her heart and nodded with such seriousness that Ziggy let out a snort, which he turned disguised as a cough when Devon side-eyed him. "It means a lot to us because the General Goods Super Store has been serving this wonderful community for the fifty seven years now, and by being here today, you're helping to keep that tradition alive. Give yourselves a round of applause!"

Scattered claps came from the unenthusiastic crowd, but to her credit, Shondra's smile didn't dim. If anything, her grin got wider, as if she could supply the energy that the crowd was lacking all by herself, and her voice rang out through the space with vigor.

"That's right folks, for fifty seven years, the GGSS has been your one stop to shop for anything and everything, and we've always worked hard to keep up with your needs. Since the store opened we've added a food court, a cafe, a pharmacy, an optometrist, an in-house designer, and for a brief period in the '90s, a psychic! But the world has been changing even faster than we have, and now we're living in an age of convenience, where people can get any products they want delivered right to their house at the click of a button. So now it's time for us to change again."

"So, else can the GGSS offer? What more can we do for you? I have a vision board in my office where I hang up pictures of all the things that make this store great, all the things that the customers love, and when I looked to it for inspiration, the answer hit me. Websites have everything, right? But what they don't have is people. Human beings you can walk up to and talk to, face to face, and form a connection with. And that's what our new, exclusively in-store service is all about: people, connecting with other people, but in a whole new way."

The room watched with bated breath as Shondra waved at the security guards and they grabbed the top of the tarp, gasps filling the room as they ripped it off to reveal… something? There was a beat of confused silence as everyone just stared at the strange contraption- the mystery service apparently involved a sleek tube of green plastic resembling a skinny fire hydrant (emblazoned with the Raynforest logo) with two metal prongs sticking out the side, each tipped with some kind of rubber ball. Ziggy couldn't make heads or tails of it, and from the confused whispers he heard around the room, it seemed like everyone else was in the same boat.

"I present to you, the Swap Station!" Shondra announced, though this did little to allay the confusion of the crowd. "Our store has been chosen to launch the pilot program of this revolutionary piece of technology that has been developed by our generous parent company Raynforest!" She gestured to the redheaded woman and paused for applause that didn't come, and Ziggy held back his laughter. The manager continued unphased. "At the Swap Station, we'll be able to offer a completely new kind of experience- the experience of walking in someone else's shoes. Starting tomorrow, anyone will be able to walk into the store, fill out some paperwork, and use this machine right here to switch bodies with another person!"

That got the crowd's attention, and chatter erupted throughout the room. Body swaps had been in the news for months since Bod+E went public, but the app and its clientele made swapping seem like a thing for hip, trendy Silicone Valley types- seeing it offered at the local super store was shocking, to say the least, and no one was more shocked than Devon and Ziggy.

The two boys locked eyes and for a moment, both rivals were on the same page and thinking the exact same thing: What the fuck?

Shondra's voice cut above the din of the crowd and interrupted his thoughts. "Swapping with other people is easy and fun- and what better way to prove that than with a demonstration?" She threw her arm out and gestured towards the two young men who were standing behind her. "Everyone give a big round of applause for two of the GGSS's favorite employees, Devon and Ezekiel!"

And that was their cue.

"I can't believe this," Devon muttered beneath his breath, eyes darting around the room nervously. Checking for exits maybe? All of the bravado he'd had earlier seemed to have deserted him but his ironclad professionalism wouldn't let him run, so shuffled jerkily forwards like he was on autopilot with Ziggy in tow.

"I know, right?" Ziggy clapped one hand onto Devon's back and used it to shove him towards their marks, grinning at how their roles had been reversed. At how their roles would literally be reversed. "She called me one of our favorite employees."

There were two small "X" marks made of tape on the floor on either side of the Swap Station and Ziggy deposited the catatonic Devon at one, then assumed his position on the other. Ziggy waved to the crowd and threw Shondra a thumbs up, which Devon weakly mirrored. With a smile, Shondra continued, babbling on about how the device could help "bridge the gap" between even the most different of people, but neither Devon or Ziggy were really listening. They just stared at each other, thinking, with the Swap Station looming ominously between them.

Ziggy could do basic math, he could figure out what one body swapping device plus two volunteers equaled. He and Devon were going to have their Freaky Friday moment in front of all these people, and Ziggy felt… excited. He looked his annoying coworker up and down, eyeing his huge biceps, his strong jaw, the swell of his ass against the back of his pants, and he licked his lips. Devon was staring back at him, giving him his own once-over, but the queasy look on his face made it clear that his thoughts were far less rosy.

Back in reality, Shondra had introduced two scientists (a tall, skinny white man and a short, chubby Indian man) who would be walking them through the process of using the device. It was easy, Shondra explained- once the system was set up, all that users had to do was press their hands to the two receptors and let the machine do the rest.

"But why don't we show you?" Shondra winked at the crowd. "Boys?"

And then all eyes were on Devon and Ziggy, the two polar opposite employees standing on opposite sides of the Swap Station. Ziggy didn't hesitate and his hands curled around the ball in front of him, his skin tingling where it touched the rubber. Mere electricity? Or excitement? Perhaps a bit of both. Despite the crowds and the strangeness of the situation, Ziggy wasn't nervous at all- which was more than could be said for Devon, who was standing struck like a deer in the headlights. The second thoughts running through his head were written all over his face as he looked nervously between Ziggy and the rubber ball, but Shondra jumped in before the pause could stretch too long.

"Oh, looks like Devon here needs a little encouragement," she teased, waving her arms at the crowd. "Come on folks, show him some love! Clap your hands if you wanna see this baby in action!"

The crowd burst out into a mixture of applause and jeers, a not-insignificant number of people yelling at them to get on with it, and Devon swallowed. As much as it tickled Ziggy to see his rival acting like such a pussy, he was eager to get this show on the road, so he did what he knew best- he pushed the guy's buttons.

Scared? he mouthed to Devon, raising one eyebrow in a silent challenge, and that seemed to be the push Devon needed to find his spine again. The young man straightened up and waved to the crowd, flashing them a cheesy smile, and then placed both of his hands on the rubber receptor of the Swap Station.

Switching bodies felt like having his brain squeezed through a tube of toothpaste while being spun around like a top, but without any pain, pressure, or dizziness, just… an out-of-body sensation that was so trippy it made Ziggy space out for a second, so he couldn't quite pinpoint the moment when everything changed. There was a weird tingling sensation in his eyes and he blinked a few times to chase it off, and when his vision readjusted, he was looking into a mirror, except the mirror was moving without him and the angle was all wrong and…

Holy shit.

[izzyy-stuff]

𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝: 02 — Caramel Macchiato

written // 1.1k // sfw

You sometimes doubted why you decided to join the tutoring program at your college. As an idea—it was amazing. You could plan out your work schedule however you needed, got to be the boss of yourself, and the pay wasn’t bad at all either. But the reality of it wasn’t as perfect as you wished for it to be. Tutoring obviously meant teaching people who struggled with a subject, but a lot of times, it was far worse than just struggling. 

The students you got were often barely passing, hoping that you could by some miracle force material from the whole semester into their head in the span of a few hours so that they could get an A+ and act like they are the smartest on Earth. 

Guess what? That really wasn’t how it worked. 

You tried your best, tried to make Minsu understand you really couldn’t teach him everything from scratch in the three hours you booked out for him, but he just wouldn’t hear you out. Thirty minutes into your session, when no books were opened yet and all you had to do was listen to the first year yelling at you to make it work, you realized he didn’t come to you to actually understand the material but just argue with someone and blame it on them when he doesn’t pass his exams. 

So now, after three hours of letting a man yell at you, it’s safe to say you’re not in the best mood. You thought that when your friends suggested meeting for a coffee in the new trending café near campus it would cheer you up, but turns out, you were wrong once again. 

Cozy Corner lives up its name. That much is obvious as soon as you step inside and take in the interior. There’s a large bookshelf lining one of the walls, and you wonder if anyone ever cared to pick up one of the books. You look around, letting yourself get swallowed in the chatters around you. It’s busy, but you expected as much. Every table is full and you figure you’d have to take your order and wait for your friends outside in order not to stand in anyone’s way. 

You make your way into the line, peaking your head out to see to the front. There are two guys behind the counter, both in a white shirt, blue jeans, and a brown apron covering them. They’re smiling, but with the way they rush around one another to get the orders out on time, you don’t think they’re too happy to be there. 

Somehow, before you even make it to the register, you’re already pissed off more than when you first came in. Mr. Park, who is the supervisor of your tutoring group, has messaged you to inform you he’s received a bunch of angry complaints about your sessions in the past week and if he gets one more, he’d have to reconsider your position on the team. Great. Just what you needed. As if dealing with assholes wasn’t enough, now they were also trying to make you lose your job. 

You tug your phone back into your pocket, huffing out some air as you step forward again, finally reaching the counter. “I need to see that,” the guy behind the cash register laughs, his body turned to you but his mind obviously elsewhere. “I’d pay for that. Heeseung would die here–” 

You clear your throat, catching his attention. A soft “Ah,” leaves his lips as he smiles at you. You doubt he actually registers your presence, though. He looks like a robot. Maybe that’s what working through rush hours looks like. “And what can I get you, darling?” 

You blink, confused. Is this how they serve customers? You shake your head slightly, brushing it off as you look up on their menu one last time. “I’ll get a vanilla latte, please.” He nods, clicking something on his little screen before announcing you the total. “Okay, it’ll be right up.” You nod, glancing at his name tag before stepping aside to wait. Beomgyu. 

Beomgyu needs to get his shit together before you ask for a manager. 

You wait patiently on the side, your arms crossed over your chest and tapping your feet. Okay, maybe you weren’t exactly patient. But in your defense, you stood there for fifteen minutes, watching people who ordered after you get their drinks right in front of you. And every time, the barista didn’t even as glance your way. 

Yeah, this was making you mad. 

“Excuse me,” you call out and Beomgyu raises his head, eyes meeting yours. “I still haven’t gotten my drink.” His eyes widen for a split second, but it quickly turns into something else. Boredom? Annoyance? You’re not sure. But it for sure is not a welcoming sight. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll be on it right away. Sometimes the queue gets weird. It’ll be up soon,” he apologizes, but for some reason it doesn’t feel like a proper apology. More like he’s just trying to brush you off so you shut up. 

Okay. Everyone has rough days. That’s fine. You think that, but your teeth are gritted together, and you know you’re biting back an insult as he goes back to chatting with his coworker—something he’s been doing for the past fifteen minutes. 

“Your drink,” Beomgyu smiles, sliding a cup closer to you. You eye it confusedly, tilting your head slightly as you question if he’s handing the drink to you. “I ordered a vanilla latte,” you remind him. He tilts his head, mimicking your movement, as a playful smile tugs at his lips. “Are you sure? I swear I remember a pretty girl ordering a caramel macchiato.” 

“That’s great,” you fake the biggest smile, clapping your hands together. Your smile falls as quickly as it came, and you step to the side. “She’s in the line right behind me.” 

“Sorry,” the girl apologizes, her lips in a downturn smile as she hesitantly takes her drink. You shake your head at her, assuring her it’s not her fault. “Oh,” Beomgyu breathes out. Before either one of you can say anything, his coworker—Soobin as his nametag informs you—pushes him aside and slides a new drink towards you. “We’re so sorry for the delay,” he shoots Beomgyu a long look before smiling at you again. “He is new here, and I think we’ll have to reconsider his employment.” 

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” you mumble, so quietly you don’t think they can catch it. You don’t bother wondering if they did anyway, simply grabbing your drink and walking out as fast as you can, already taking out your phone to ask the others where the hell they got held up at. 

You take a sip of your coffee and frown. Hadn’t it been for your terrible experience with the staff, maybe you’d actually be able to enjoy your drink. 

prev | unfiltered | next

↪ izzy speaks... okay, I know written chapters aren't always favorites when reading smau but the first meeting is here!

perm taglist: @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez @bamgeutsz @lovingbeomgyudayone @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @dawngyu @xylatox @heesmiles @biteyoubiteme @t-102 @jellyyjn @1-800-jewon @heejamas @yeonmuse @bamgeutori @i-am-not-dal

unfiltered taglist: @itsdragonius @tinyteezer @yvinion @aernx @hoonieyun @haechology @gomdoleemyson

[halfdeadhalfpaniced]

Macaque did not originally apply / audition to be Wukongs stunt double. He went to an open audition for one of Wukongs action movies specifically for the role of a sidekick type character and mentioned to casting that he was pretty good at stunt work so if he got the role they wouldn’t have to find a double for him.

His audition went perfectly he knocked it out of the park in every way for both the acting and stunt work making it all the way to the final round where Wukong himself would help pick having basically been promised the role with several casting directors talking vaguely about how he was going to be the next big thing and joking about how he might even out shine the lead.

All of this made it a big shock to all of them Macaque included when he didn’t get the role instead being offered a job as Wukongs stunt man with no actual acting included. Macaque was very confused and disappointed by this not understanding what happened but in desperation to make money and escape a rough situation he signed the contract practically sleep walking through the process of paperwork and the new manager while trying to figure out what went wrong until he started overthinking it and blaming himself for the loss.

[arizonaconservativegal]

nytimes.com/2025/07/13/opinion/family-politics-arguments-right-wing.html

Okay look I am 1000% in favor of not snubbing friends and family over political differences and I guess I'll applaud this guy for finally figuring out that it doesn't work but mostly I'm just amazed by how much continued arrogance can fit into a 1200 word op-ed about how you were wrong and also an asshole.

Full op-ed pasted below the cut

Not too long ago, I felt a civic duty to be rude to my wife’s younger brother.

I met Matt Kappler in 2012, and it was immediately clear we had nothing in common. He lifted weights to death metal; I jogged to Sondheim. I was one of President Barack Obama’s speechwriters and had an Ivy League degree; he was a huge Joe Rogan fan and went on to get his electrician’s license. My early memories of Matt are hazy — I was mostly trying to impress his parents. Still we got along, chatting amiably on holidays and at family events.

Then the pandemic hit, and our preferences began to feel like more than differences in taste. We were on opposite sides of a cultural civil war. The deepest divide was vaccination. I wasn’t shocked when Matt didn’t get the Covid shot. But I was baffled. Turning down a vaccine during a pandemic seemed like a rejection of science and self-preservation. It felt like he was tearing up the social contract that, until that point, I’d imagined we shared.

Had Matt been a friend rather than a family member, I probably would have cut off contact completely. As it was, on the rare and always outdoor occasions when we saw each other, I spoke in disapproving snippets.

“Work’s been good?”

“Mhrmm.”

My frostiness wasn’t personal. It was strategic. Being unfriendly to people who turned down the vaccine felt like the right thing to do. How else could we motivate them to mend their ways?

I wasn’t the only one thinking this. A 2021 essay for USA Today declared, “It’s time to start shunning the ‘vaccine hesitant.’” An L.A. Times piece went further, arguing that to create “teachable moments,” it may be necessary to mock some anti-vaxxers’ deaths.

Shunning as a form of accountability goes back millenniums. In ancient Athens, a citizen deemed a threat to state stability could be “ostracized” — cast out of society for a decade. For much of history, banishment was considered so severe that it substituted for capital punishment. The whole point of Hester Prynne’s scarlet letter was to show she had violated norms — and to discourage others from doing so.

But that was before social media. We live in a world of online fandoms, choose-your-own-adventure information and parasocial relationships. Few people who lost friends over the vaccine changed their minds. They just got new friends. Those exiled from one version of society were quickly welcomed by another — an alternate universe full of grievance peddlers and conspiracy theorists who thrived on stories of victimized conservatives.

There has been a sorting into belief camps, algorithmically and in real life. It dictates whom we match with on dating apps and where we live. We block those we disagree with online, we leave the group chat, we don’t show up for Thanksgiving. Recent data suggests that today, one in five Americans is estranged from a family member over politics. More points of deep disagreement will surely arise: over Trump’s immigration crackdown and use of the military in domestic affairs, over Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s MAHA mandates, over antisemitism, over a megabill that takes health care from the poor while cutting taxes for the rich.

No one is required to spend time with people they don’t care for. But those of us who feel an obligation to shun strategically need to ask: What has all this banishing accomplished? It’s not just ineffective. It’s counterproductive.

These days, ostracism might just hurt the ostracizer more than the ostracizee.

I wish I could say I learned this through self-reflection and study. What actually happened is that I started surfing. After moving to the Jersey Shore in 2022, I signed up for lessons. Despite my advanced age of 35 and lack of natural talent, I got hooked. Matt was the only other surfer I knew. I put my principled unfriendliness aside.

From the moment we began paddling out together, I could tell my cold-shoulder strategy had backfired. I’d spent the peak of the pandemic in a cultural bubble, and he had done the same. Driving to a break or changing into our wet suits, he’d often express opinions — about the merits of vigilantism, or the health benefits of Mexican stem-cell injections — that I found slightly unhinged.

Where is this coming from? I wondered. The answer was nearly always “Joe Rogan’s podcast.”

I assumed our surf-buddy experiment would either fail spectacularly or bring Matt over to my side. Neither of those things occurred. Instead, the connections we found were tiny and unrelated to politics. We agree that “Shrimply Irresistible” is the perfect so-bad-it’s-good name for a seafood restaurant, and that Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” is a classic. Although I still wouldn’t call myself a Rogan fan, we share an appreciation for his interview with the surf legend Kelly Slater. Matt and I remain very different, yet we’ve reached what is, in today’s America, a radical conclusion: We don’t always approve of each other’s choices, but we like each other.

It helped that in the ocean, our places in the pecking order reversed. Matt’s a very good surfer — one might call him “an elite” — and I am not. According to surfing’s unwritten rules, he had the right to look down on me. But he never did. His generosity of spirit in the water made me rethink my own behavior on land.

Three years after my first surf lesson, Matt and I haven’t really changed each other’s minds on major national issues. But we have changed each other. His fearlessness in consequential surf made me more courageous. His ability to go “over the ledge,” launching himself off breaking lips, helped me curb my overthinking. Ostracizing him wouldn’t have altered his behavior — and it would have made my own life worse.

I suspect that’s true for Matt as well. While I’ve never asked if our friendship made him more open-minded — we’d find that embarrassing — I’m confident the answer is yes. Last year, when I briefly considered running for office, Matt said he’d vote for me. When I asked why, his answer had nothing to do with party or policy. “You’re a regular guy,” he told me. “You walk the dog.”

When I share stories about surfing with my brother-in-law, people often tell me about relationships in their own lives pushed to the brink by politics. Sometimes, they’re proud of ties they’ve severed. More often, they’re hoping for a way forward. How can we pierce bubbles of misinformation? Can friendships fractured in the Trump era be repaired?

My advice is always the same. Our differences are meaningful, but allowing them to mean everything is part of how we ended up here. When we cut off contacts, or let algorithms sort us into warring factions, we forget that not so long ago, we used to have things to talk about that didn’t involve politics. Shunning plays into the hands of demagogues, making it easier for them to divide us and even, in some cases, to incite violence.

There are, of course, some people so committed to odiousness that it defines them. If Stephen Miller wants a surf lesson, I’ll decline. But are most people like that? In an age when banishment backfires, keeping the door open to unlikely friendship isn’t a betrayal of principles — it’s an affirmation of them.

[yayasvalveplay]

IAA Shockwave would be absolutely terrified when Blurr comes home and aims a gun at him. Backing up into a corner and begging for Blurr to stand down. Shockwave’s trying to convince Blurr but the only thing that gets through is when he starts to sob because he’s so confused and terrified.

Once Blurr finally realizes it’s Longarm, hems going to feel so bad. Shockwave feels comfort from knowing he’s not the only one feeling like this.

-insane anon

Thw fear he would have when the door opens up to reveal his smiling conjunx, only for his face to fall, and pull out his blaster. Calling him a decepticon.

He'd try and make himself look smaller, going down to the floor, his fins pulled back. But Blurr steps closer, and he scoots, back, this happens until his back hits the wall. and Blurr demands what he is doing in his and Longarms house. How did he even get inside?

It takes a bit. Maybe a bit of shouting on Blurrs part before he is able to see. really see that this mech is telling the truth. That he is Longarm.

"Longarm? What. . . What happened to you?"

"I do not know. My body was feeling weird. the cramps were getting worse and worse, and them I transformed. But I transformed wrong. I transformed into this."

"Can. . . Can you transform back?"

"I. . . I think." It takes a bit having to cancel out his actual transformation tcog before he finally gets it. his frame changes, but he becomes smaller, chubbier. The Longarm he has always known.

And with it come the pain. He groins rubbing at his hurt areas, before Blurr is there massaging them.

"I'm Sorry for pulling a blaster on you."

"It is alright. I would of done the same."

"I could of killed you."

"And I wouldn't be mad."

His face was cubbed, and brought with it Blurr's kisses. He melted in them like he always have done."

"Wheelie isn't going to be home in a while. Do you want too change back?"

"Am i allowed too?"

"yes. You seemed to have not been hurting when you did. Lets see what a few hours of your other form gets you."

He transforms once again. Back into Shockwave, the big old Decepticon who had to lay down to even feel right. Blurr kissed his new frame, mapping it out like he had done the first time back at the office. Back before they adopted Wheelie, back before what tehy had now had a name.

Blurr was figuring him out by scratch. And he loved it.

[drabbles-mc]

Good Press (1)

Bucky Barnes & F!Reader

Written for Week 7 of Hot Bucky Summer: "Put this on."

Warnings: 18+, language, pre-Thunderbolts*, no use of Y/N, slow burn/eventual relationship

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: got struck with this little nugget of an idea and figured i would use the next few weeks of Hot Bucky Summer to play it all out. Bucky on the campaign trail must've been a trip 😂

It didn’t take him long to start thinking that maybe this plan wasn’t very well thought through. They had an assistant bring him a suit, which right off the bat left him feeling uncomfortable. The person wasn’t even his assistant, just someone else’s that had been farmed out to do Bucky’s bidding for the time being until they found him his own. He didn't like the idea of that either. Also, what was wrong with the suit he’d gone and found for himself? 

The kid, who looked like he was barely old enough to drive let alone have a full grasp of who he was dropping the suit off to, stood there wringing his hands after Bucky had taken the sleek black garment bag from him. His eyes were wide, and Bucky could spot the little beads of sweat popping up along the edge of his forehead. Standing there in silence much longer would start making the kid’s collar turn a darker shade of blue from the sweat, Bucky had no doubt. 

Lifting the bag a little higher so that it wasn’t hitting the floor, Bucky asked, “What’s your name anyway?” 

He coughed as he tried to clear his throat. “John-Johnny. John. Um.” 

Bucky lifted his eyebrows slightly, doing his best not to find amusement in the kid’s nerves. “John or Johnny?” 

His face was turning red and he couldn’t look at Bucky as he forced out his answer. “Johnny.” 

Bucky nodded. “Johnny.” He gestured vaguely with the garment bag. “Do you need to be here to watch me put this on, Johnny? Or were you just the drop-off guy?” 

His face went from red to almost sickly white at Bucky’s question. He shook his head. “No. No I don’t. Sor-sorry. Shit. I’m just, I'm gonna...” he started to backpedal and Bucky did him the favor of not trying to stop him. 

“Thanks!” Bucky called after him. “And next time tell them I can pick out my own clothes!” 

When the door clattered shut, Bucky almost felt a little bad. He was probably a good kid, if not woefully unprepared for what he was walking into. As he stared at the garment bag, Bucky had a feeling that was actually one thing that he and Johnny had in common. Not that he’d ever see him again to be able to tell him as much.  

Walking into the bedroom section of the rather lavish hotel they’d put him up in, Bucky tossed the bag onto the bed. He stood there and stared for a moment, hands on his hips. This was a far cry from all the places he’d been up until now. He wasn’t hiding out in a tiny apartment trying to piece his memory back together while flying under the radar. He wasn’t on a tranquil farm in Wakanda in the kind of solitude some people could only dream of. But at least he wasn’t hidden away in some lab, strapped down to a table or a chair or whatever they could find to try and contain him. So there was that. He had to admit though, as he reached and pulled the zipper on the bag, he still felt lost. No matter where he was, there was still that lingering sense of not having things quite figured out. He had yet to find all the pieces to the puzzle—he wondered if he ever would. 

He didn’t want to admit it, but the shirt, pants, and jacket all fit like a glove. Even the suits he’d gotten for himself didn’t fit so nicely. He should’ve been grateful. The suit, the room, the Johnny. He should’ve probably left a little bit of room in his thoughts for gratitude. Maybe he’d get around to feeling that eventually. For the moment he was having a bit of a hard time recognizing himself. The suit felt a bit like a costume. For a moment the whole thing had him thinking of Steve. His Steve. The one who didn’t want to be the ‘Star Spangled Man with a Plan’, who just wanted to stop the bad guys. They didn’t talk as much about it back then as they maybe should have, too much going on in a warzone to get into things like that. But now that he was staring in the mirror and struggling to reconcile who he was with who he was looking at, he wished that they’d made the time. 

As he was adjusting his tie into place, there was a knock at the door. He let out a deep sigh, head dropping back. He shut his eyes for a moment, not tight, just enough to block everything out for a moment so he could collect himself.  

Walking towards the door to his room, he felt for the first time just how stiff the shoes they’d gotten him were. That was another reason he didn’t want people picking out his clothes—everything he owned was already broken in. So what if they were a little scuffed up? Who was going to be looking at his feet, anyway? 

“I told you I know how to put on a suit.” His next sentence died on the tip of his tongue when he pulled the door open and saw that it was not Johnny standing on the other side. 

You laughed, arms crossed over your chest. “Well, I'm very happy to hear that, Mr. Barnes.” 

The annoyance on his face worked itself into confusion as you both stood on opposite sides of the threshold. “You’re not Johnny,” he said as he looked you over. 

You shook your head, earrings making the lightest clinking sound as you did. “No I'm not.” 

“I don’t need an assistant.” 

You laughed. “Johnny’s not your assistant—he's mine.” 

“Yeah, well—” 

“And I'm sure,” you cut him off, “it doesn’t seem like you need an assistant right now. Because, you know, you’re not doing a hell of a lot. But one day soon, god willing, you will actually have things to do and stay busy with. And if that happens, when,” you corrected yourself, “it will be nice to have someone around to do things for you like pick up your suits and keep your schedule in order.” 

The skepticism wasn’t fading from his face. “So you’re...” 

“Also not your assistant. But since you scared Johnny, I figured I would come and see how bad it was.” You made a big show of looking him up and down. “Were you this warm and welcoming to Johnny when he was here earlier?” 

“I can get my own suits.” 

You sighed. “Right. So that’s a yes. Lovely.” You untucked your arms so you could gesture to the expanse of room behind him. “Can I come in?” 

“Who are you?” 

The look on his face made it clear that you probably shouldn’t have been smiling, but it didn’t stop you. “Your own personal miracle worker and damage control agent.” When his unamused expression didn’t change, you rolled your eyes. “I’m the head of your PR department. All the front-facing events you’re showing up to, your online presence, that all rests on my back and the people on my team.” 

He shook his head, confusion intensifying once more. “Online pres—” 

“It’ll be easier to explain if you let me in to talk.” 

He didn’t pretend to be enthused about it as he stepped out of the way to let you in, and you didn’t pretend that he had any other choice but to let you pass him by. Neither of you said anything for a moment as he shut and latched the door behind you. You took advantage of the split-second opportunity to look around the room. 

They’d set him up nicely, which was more than you could say for other candidates in his position. You couldn’t help but to notice the fact that despite how nice the room was, his beat-up rolling suitcase and tattered backpack were still resting beside the sofa. The suitcase was open but it wasn’t fully unpacked—he'd clearly just been taking out what he needed as he needed it. The sight confirmed the need to send him a fresh suit. 

Bucky didn’t sit, nor did he invite you to. It wasn’t surprising. Knowing you were already pushing your luck with him, you didn’t sprawl on the chair that was just a few feet away. Instead, you walked a little deeper into the room, your heels not clicking quite as loudly on the thin carpeting. The bag that you’d been holding in the crook of your arm, the one that held everything you needed to try and do as much damage control as possible for the man in front of you, landed on top of the coffee table with an audible thud. 

“There’s no damage to control,” Bucky said, finally breaking the silence filling the three feet that separated you. 

You chuckled. “You don’t think so?” 

He held his hands out, like he was inviting you to search him for some kind of dirt someone could try and use against him. “I’ve been cleared. Pardoned. Whatever else.” 

“I mean, yeah, technically.” 

“Technically?” 

“In the eyes of the law, sure. You’ve been pardoned. The eyes of the public, though?” You shook your head. “Believe it or not, there are a lot of people out there who don’t want a war criminal to have a seat in Congress.” 

Tension rippled throughout his entire body, hands clenching into fists. His shoulders snapped back, his defensiveness undeniable even before he opened his mouth. “I’m not a war criminal. All that stuff that happened, that wasn’t—” 

“I know that,” you said, stopping him before he could get himself too riled up. “Believe me, Mr. Barnes, I’m on your side. The ancient history that’s not so ancient, I know, okay?” You watched as his fists slowly unclenched. “But I’m not the one you have to convince. Some of the people out there are going to be a much tougher sell.” 

He huffed and shook his head. “Jesus.” 

“He can’t help you like I can right now, alright?” you joked. 

Bucky’s face didn't spell out amusement, but he didn’t seem to be more pissed off. So you’d settle for that. “From the sounds of it, you’re not going to be able to help me much either.” 

“I love a longshot. That’s why your campaign manager hired me.” 

You couldn’t get a good read on his face as he said, “Right.” 

It seemed like he might have something more to say, so you let the pause linger. When he remained silent, you picked up the conversation. “Are you going to fight me on everything? Or, you know, scare away any other staff I send your way to help you?” When he still didn’t say anything, you had to laugh. “Thanks for not lying to me at least.” You took a deep breath and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m ready for an uphill battle, Mr. Barnes—that's what they pay me for. But my life isn’t the only one that gets easier when you decide to stop doing that.” 

You allowed him to gnaw on that information for a minute. Turning, you opened up your bag and began digging through for the folder that he was going to need for the Q&A that was rapidly approaching. While there might be a few questions that came out of left field, you knew what most of them were going to be for these first few outings. You had scripts written out for a majority of the most likely possibilities.  

Flipping the folder open, you thumbed through the pages inside to make sure that everything was there. You didn’t expect him to stand up there and read verbatim off the cards, but you were hoping that he would take the time between now and showtime to review it, do his best to remember the bulk so that when a question hit the air he didn’t have to fly completely off the cuff. 

He was staring at you, brows knit tightly when you turned back around. You didn’t let his scrutinizing stare shake you. Instead, you held out the folder for him to take. “Some light but helpful reading material for this evening.” 

“A script?” he asked as he looked through the pages. 

You shrugged. “More like prompts.” 

He scoffed. “Right.” 

“It’s better than flying in blind.” 

He snapped the folder shut and shoved it underneath his arm. “Everything that I’ve had to go through, I don’t think that flying blind into a Q&A with some reporters is going to do me in.” 

A lot of your relationship was just going to be you laughing at things that he said with no intention of being funny. You’d enjoy it at least. “Yeah, okay. Maybe it won’t ‘do you in’,” you put air quotes around the words in case your sarcasm wasn’t laid on thick enough, “the way you’re thinking. You’ll survive, sure. But you’re not that guy anymore, or so you say. This isn’t life or death. This is a campaign. A lot more grey areas and a lot more things that are going to make you roll your eyes.” 

“Yeah, I’m seeing that now,” he deadpanned as he stared at you. 

You pointed to the folder. “Read the damn prompts.” 

He sighed, not agreeing or disagreeing to follow that particular instruction. He made a small motion with his hand that wasn’t keeping the folder in place. “Anything else?” 

You looked him up and down. “Suit’s alright?” 

“It’s unnecessary.” 

All the oxygen was going to be gone from the room at the rate the two of you were huffing and sighing at each other. “Does it fit okay?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s all I needed—” 

“I wanna wear my own shoes.” 

You laughed and shook your head. “No.” 

“Why n—” 

“No amount of polish will make them presentable for live television, that’s why.” 

You walked around him, surveying him like a curator checking out a new piece for a museum. He turned with you at first, not wanting to have his back to you. After a few halted steps and a sharp look from you, though, he finally understood what you were doing and kept himself still. 

Your steps around had landed you closer to him. As you stood in front of him, you made a small adjustment to his tie. It was then that you noticed something missing from his get-up, a small but important detail. Stepping back, you looked around the living room to see if he just hadn’t gotten around to putting it on by the time you showed up. 

When you didn’t see it anywhere, you asked, “Where’s the bag this came in?” 

He nodded in the direction of the bedroom. “It’s in the—hey!” He quickly walked after you as you started towards his room. “You can’t just—” 

You waved him off. “Oh calm down, I’m not here to dig through your underwear drawer.” 

Once you were standing in front of his bed, you quickly scanned over the mattress and the floor by your feet. Not finding what you were looking for, you moved onto the garment bag. You undid the zipper all the way to the bottom and patted around until you found what you were looking for. When you turned back around to Bucky, who was still looking just as annoyed as he did the second he opened up the door to his hotel room, you had a tiny drawstring pouch in your hand. You pulled at the opening before waving for Bucky to step in closer. 

It was evident that he didn’t want to, but out of all the things he was going to have the chance to fight you on in the coming weeks, he must have decided that this wasn’t quite worth it. Stepping in, he focused on your hands instead of your face as you reached into the tiny satin pouch. 

You held up the tiny American flag shaped pin for him to see. A small turn of your hand had it so that it was laying in your palm for him to take. “Put this on.” 

His lips curled down slightly from the straight line that they were in. Just enough of a shift to show that he thought it was a silly thing for you to notice and feel the need to rectify. Once you realized that he wasn’t going to do it, you pulled the pin from its backing with a quick flick of your wrist. 

He didn’t pull away from you as you reached for his lapel, but you were willing to bet his annoyance was written all over his face. You got the pin situated, and smoothed out his suit before stepping back again. 

“It’s the kind of thing people will notice,” you said when the expression on his face didn’t change. 

He turned away from you, and you thought he was doing it just because he was sick of you until you realized that he was now facing the full-length mirror in his room. He tugged at his jacket, smoothing it out over his chest. He frowned as he stared at his reflection. 

His eyes zeroed in on the flag in the reflection. “Monkey on a unicycle,” he muttered. 

Your face scrunched as you tried to make out what it was that he said. “What’s that?” 

He shook his head as he turned and faced you again. “Nothing.” 

Not that you believed him, but you also knew that he wasn’t going to be telling you all of his innermost thoughts and feelings at this point. For the foreseeable future you figured you would be lucky to get more than one or two sentences out of him at a time. It was a new problem to encounter in your particular line of work. Usually you couldn’t get people to shut their mouths and that was what got them into trouble. Very few things about Bucky’s situation weren’t unique in some way. 

“Right, well,” you started to walk back towards the living room area of the room, hearing Bucky’s footsteps following close behind, “if you’d like to run through some of the probable questions and answers, I've cleared my afternoon and evening for it.” 

He opened the folder again. Out of the corner of his eye he could see your hand resting on the handle to the bag you’d brought with you. You were ready for him to say no and send you away—he didn’t blame you for that. As he skimmed over the questions, he couldn’t help but to shake his head. There was no point in proving your assumption wrong, so he closed the folder before looking at you. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

Rolling your eyes was never the professional response to anything, but something told you that dealing with Bucky was going to have both of you skirting the limits of professionalism, really stretching the definition of the word.  

Positioning your bag in the crook of your arm once more, you said, “Famous last words, Mr. Barnes.” 

He cocked one eyebrow. “Is that what you’re always going to call me?” 

You shrugged. “Until I can honestly call you Congressman Barnes, yes.” Pausing, you smiled. “Not a fan?” 

The gesture he made with the folder in his hand was a flippant one. “Does it matter?” 

You laughed, more honesty in the sound than there had been lately. “Not particularly.” 

The huff he let out almost sounded like something akin to a weary chuckle. It was more than you’d gotten out of him so far, so you’d take it. Maybe he’d come around, warm up to you a little. If he didn’t, it was no skin off your back. He'd be far from the first person you worked for that didn’t care much for you. Fortunately for all parties involved it didn’t stop you from being good at your job. If he gave all of this, if he gave you, a little bit of time, he’d see that. 

After another few seconds of silence, you decided to see yourself out. You found it interesting, the way that he clearly didn’t want to spend any amount of quality time with you, but he also wasn’t dismissing you.  

“If you change your mind,” you told him as you stepped towards the door, “or if you have any other questions, feel free to give me a call.” 

“I don’t have—” 

“Card’s in the folder too.” 

“Of course it is.” 

A quiet thunk let followed you flipping the lock on the door. When you landed yourself in the hallway you said, “If I don’t hear from you before, I'll see you tonight. Car gets here at six.” 

“And you’ll be in it, I’m assuming?” 

You cracked a grin. “Smart man.” You turned on your heel and began walking away. “We might still be able to do something yet!” 

He didn’t give you a response—it didn’t seem like you cared for one anyway. He waited until he heard the dinging sound of the elevator arriving to take you before he shut and locked the door. 

As much as he wanted to throw the folder in the trash, to take off the suit, and toss his shoes out the window out onto the street, he fought the urge to do it all. He’d done harder things before, far worse things. He could suck it up and get through this. With a deep sigh, he went and sat down on the sofa and opened the folder that you’d given him. The impeccably typed and spaced letters mocked him, but he read on anyway. There was no backing out now. 

(divider by @silkholland )

Marvel Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added!): @late-to-the-party-81 @garbinge @artemiseamoon @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnesevents

ps i didn’t include folks who specifically had been asking to be tagged in my invisible silver liningsfic, but if you’re on that and also wanna be on my general mcu taglist please tell me! xo

[drunkenskunk]

Oh boy another Drunk Skunk rant!

So I've been on vacation this last week, and I've got another week of vacation ahead of me. You would think that during this time, I would be doing anything productive, like writing one of the dozens of ideas rattling around my head, or trying to draw the comic of that one short story about pre-transition Tuera.

Instead, I have spent most of this time playing:

Because of course I have. I am a weak willed coward and have no defense against The Intrusive Thought.

However: during this time, when I could've been doing anything else more productive, I came to a strange realization. It's one of those things that I'm sure someone has already said, at some point, somewhere... but it's gonna make me feel better if I write them all down anyway.

Mostly because it feels like a convoluted tangle of several thoughts, I want to get them all sorted, and I can't think of a better way to do this than in front of tons of strangers on the internet.

Interestingly, this realization didn't start with WoW, it started with me rewatching that Noah Caldwell-Gervais' Diablo video, again. I've watched this video (and "watched" it in the background) many, many times, because it's really good, but something stood out to me on this particular rewatch.

It was that bit right at the very end of the Diablo 3 section, where he's talking about the boss fight against Malthael in Reaper of Souls:

"At the end of Diablo 3, your character, the Nephalem, is certainly stronger than any angel or demon. Death itself is the final boss, then. It is impossible to escalate from here, so the game ends, as is traditional, with a melancholy and temporary victory that leaves the future uncertain."

And that is when it hit me like a ton of bricks:

This is why WoW sucks lately. We reached that point where it was impossible to escalate further many expansions ago, but the game has kept going.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't the ONLY reason. There are a LOT of contributing factors (and I'll try and get to some of them), but I feel like that is The Big One. It's the Root Cause of a lot of other problems. The game has existed for way too long.

But that's also not the whole picture. Do you remember, a while back, when I was trying to figure out what the fuck was actually happening in the plot for The War Within? Well, I did eventually figure it out. Sort of. But in doing so, I noticed something.

In trying to untangle the story from the start of Vanilla (mostly to jog my own memory of 20 years ago, holy fucking shit I am so goddamn old) to the current expansion of The War Within, I noticed that there was a very slow but steady emphasis on the Player Character being referred to as, like... a legit hero, or "Commander" in Warlords, or "Champion" in everything post Legion.

I'm not bringing this up as if it's some big revelation. This has been a Known Problem with WoW for many years, so much so that even in my absence I heard people saying shit like "I'm tired of being Azeroth's Champion, I want to go back to being nobody again." I bring this up, because I think I've figured out why the game keeps insisting that the player is a "Champion."

The story of WoW, if you actually follow the quests as written (which I did to try and figure out what the fuck is going on jesus fucking christ what the fuck is wrong with me), are working under the assumption that the character experiencing these quests has been playing the game since Vanilla. And not just playing the game since Vanilla, but the story is sort of... taking it as read that they player has done EVERYTHING in EVERY expansion.

Like so much else in the storytelling of WoW, it's not... good, but it does make sense. At least once the layers of bullshit have been stripped away. Incidentally, that's also how I'd describe the plot of The War Within, now that I actually know what's going on: it's not good writing, but it makes sense.

When you stop to think about it through that lens, specifically, a lot of questionable writing decisions suddenly become a bit more understandable. Slightly. Because this hypothetical completionist player who has been playing the game since Vanilla that the story is apparently being written for... would be completely ridiculous.

Because, even in Vanilla, the quests that send you to dungeons and raids, if you'd ever actually stopped to read the text (which I did in my research to piece everything together) acknowledges that these are challenges for groups of people... but there is also this implication that you are the one in charge. The quests assume that You are The Party Leader, organizing this adventure to kill dragons, or elemental lords, or Old Gods sealed away for thousands of years. Of course The Player Character is regarded as a hero! ... right?

And, y'know? It's a shame that that is the angle they decided to focus on, and subsequently expand, when it came to the story. Because I think it betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of why MMOs like WoW worked in the first place. They are multiplayer games, first and foremost. Yeah, one of us can be "strong," sure, but we will always be stronger when working together. That sense of community you get with a bunch of people working towards a common goal, that is one of the primary draws of MMOs.

We weren't important back in Vanilla, at least not at first. We were just an ordinary person, rising to the challenges set before us, along with all of our friends. We weren't a prophesied hero, we weren't a "Champion," we were just... The Person Who Was Available. And more than that, one of the other big draws, at least back in Vanilla, was the novelty of being able to exist as a person in this world that we'd only ever experienced before in three strategy games.

Then again, when you look back at the RTS games - and specifically, the Founding of Durotar campaign in Frozen Throne - you realize that a lot of these problems have existed since before WoW was even a thing. I've often said that the Founding of Durotar felt a bit like a proof of concept of what Blizz wanted to do for WoW, just in the Warcraft 3 engine. Because Rexxar also wasn't a destined hero at first... he started off kinda like us. He was The Person Who Was Available. And wouldn't you know it, he ended that campaign as the Champion of the Horde. But we didn't notice that being a problem, back then... because that story came to an end. It was allowed to stop.

And that brings me back to the original problem. Because what do you do with a player character who has killed dragons, elemental lords, Old Gods, and everything else on the way? Where do you possibly go from there when you've already committed to this course for the story?

Well... you escalate.

Things get bigger. The threats get larger. The danger gets more extreme. The list of accomplishments under the player character's belt as they overcome these challenges grows. And grows. And grows. Things just keep escalating and building and escalating and building and the game is forced to acknowledge that everything else that came before has been done, and been done by you, specifically, even if the character you're playing didn't or couldn't... because it would be completely unfeasible and make even LESS SENSE to try and write different quest text based on what the current character has actually done, specifically. It just keeps going on and on and on and on...

But you can't keep doing that forever. At least, not under normal circumstances. Because doing that means things will just keep getting more and more ridiculous, and the titles and accolades will ring more and more hollow. Sure, you're a "Champion" in the quest text... but everyone else is a "Champion," too. Because the quest text isn't talking to you. It's talking to the hypothetical (and probably imaginary) completionist player that all this stupid escalation is apparently being written for.

We passed the Point of No Return and have significantly exceeded the Ridiculous Escalation Critical Mass Threshold several expansions ago. But because of the corporate machinations of ActivisionBlizzardKing - and now Micro$oft - World of Warcraft just... keeps going. It WILL keep going. Despite how many people have left the game over the years, it is still an economic powerhouse. It's still making the company literal boatloads of cash. And because of this, World of Warcraft is not allowed to die.

... aw, dang. Now I've gone and made myself sad again.

[adhd-fandom-and-gay]

WHAT? SORRY MY HEARING SUCKS...did you say stå på? Didn't know you spoke Norwegian but okay!! /j

Anyhow, that whole revelation about Mrs. Lanyon also hearkens to the fact that her family was racist and pretty openly made racist comments to Hastie's face:

(Cue Hastie regretting his life choices...)

Note the "half-savage" offspring comment in particular. Given that it refers to mixed children, I'd say that Robert definitely received scorn from his maternal family members.

Robert is also the one narrating this to Henry, and he clearly knows about the feelings his maternal kin had towards their situation with Hastie, so we can infer that he probably has had to spend time with his stupid racists other family members who never hold back on saying stupid racist bullshit and who likely were ashamed to have a mixed child in the family. They probably made it a point to not let Robert play with his cousins or to exclude him from other family events even though the Lanyons would likely be in attendance, they probably never held back on shaming him both to his face and behind his back, and they probably shamed his mother specifically whenever she (If she even) made an attempt at treating him better. Hhhh my boy,,, my boy you've been so wronged,,,

Friendly reminder that this is who they're shaming:

(LOOK AT THE HORSE THING IN THE LAST PIC AWHHHH!!! SOMEONE GET THIS BOY A HORSE. Also Hastie has some freckles in the first image and that's so cuteeee)

So Hastie had to explain this to him at some point, right? Like, Robert most certainly realized that he wasn't welcome in his own family soon enough and Hastie knew not to sugarcoat things too much when it came to describing the struggles that black people went through.

Robert is clearly still small here, so he must have figured this out early, but Hastie is a tad older than in the previous pics. Robert's still very young regardless, but either way, the point still stands that Robert has known that his skin colour affects the way people treat him ever since he was a child—one of those hard parts of life is trying to explain these things to a child when you know that it's unavoidable and trying to figure out how/when to explain it to them—so I assume that Hastie likely had to also have this talk with little Robert where he basically had to explain that half of his family hated him including his own mother.

Family reunions must have been so awful. I imagine Robert must have gotten...I don't wanna say numb towards it, but just generally more disillusioned with the idea of family as time went on considering that half of his family hated him, his mother probably also hated him and/or was shamed whenever/if she tried to be loving towards him openly, and his father was basically pressuring him into being a perfectionist. No wonder Robert threw himself into that confident, snooty playboy persona he had going on; not only did he want the control but he also might have wanted to try and form connections without actually knowing what those kinds of bonds were supposed to entail. He didn't have any good example of romantic love and likely nothing familial, either.

(On that note, I always thought Jasper must have been like gobsmacked when he heard Jekyll say this. I would be, too...like damn you don't just SAY THAT about someone's home life jeeeeesus...! /lh)

He had to be cocky and self-assured because he didn't have anything to give him self worth otherwise since he was raised in a family that viewed him as inherently inferior because of his race or who never gave him any encouragement for his achievement. He didn't have many other people who would consistently give him praise or affection besides the boys he slept with, and even then he pushed them all away once they started getting attached because he both wasn't sure how to handle that affection and was scared that he'd start losing his only sense of self-worth if he ever actually dropped his overconfident veneer long enough to be vulnerable.

Not that that excuses his actions in anyway I'm just psychoanalyzing him

Sighs...this stupid man is gonna be my Roman empire from now on.

I <3 getting to overanalyze things

I just realized that Mrs. Lanyon's family apparently being racist means that they likely raised Mrs. Lanyon to be the same and that probably didn't change when she got into an arranged marriage with Hastie so does that mean Robert had to deal with racism from his own mother—

[cheemken]

God imagine how traumatized she’d be from seeing someone be murdered in front of her. She’s already so emotionally vulnerable right now and it doesn’t help that the others are “comforting” her by saying how they’re in the right. This is sure to stir up paranoia for her

I’d imagine that this would turn into nightmares which would then turn into many sleepless nights. Many would think that the long hours of her job are making her tired but the people close to her, like Drayden, would know that she’s acting paranoid everyday and getting less and less sleep from nightmares, not her job. On maybe the 4th or 5th night of restless sleep Drayden finally convinces Iris to tell him what’s happening. What’s scaring her so much that she can’t go a full night without waking both of them up with her nightmares. And she’s just clinging to him and trying not to cry when she tells him what she saw, what happened, what they said, and who did it

She’s scared that they’ll do something to her if she tells anyone. That they’ll hurt her or even go as far as to kill her for telling others what they’ve been doing. But she’s tired, scared, and feeling like something is constantly watching her. So she lost the mental battle in her head and told him everything. But…she’s in Unova, away from all the other champions who terrify her. She’s safe from harm and far, far away from them. There’s no way they could know what she’s told him

Oh how wrong she was

Now imagine how defeated she’d feel when she comes home the very next day from work, thinking she’s safe now that Drayden has reported it. But when she walks inside their house she sees him on the floor, not moving. With some of the champions waiting around for her to show up. And now Diantha is standing in front of her, speaking to her like a disappointment mother. Telling her that she has no reason to be crying, because if you step out of line then there is always going to be consequences

Omfs cnsmcnmxnx

God the irony of Diantha being the one to say there's gonna be consequences while probably being the only champion who hasn't faced any consequences from her actions just makes me so fucking insane ncmdhxmd

But also yknow just jcmxndm Dia acting all motherly to Iris tho, crouching down to her level and hugging her, telling her that they had to do what they really had to do, they can't let anyone interfere with them. You should know better. And she's there, cupping her face, wiping away her tears, telling her to calm down, to stop crying, there's no use crying over someone who couldn't even defend himself while being called the Spartan Mayor of Opelucid. But Iris was still sobbing, Drayden was family, her only family, and even tho it's not by blood, she still loves him. And suddenly... Suddenly he's gone. His body unmoving as the other Champions approach her and Diantha.

Dia just pulls her close to her, going on how it'll all be fine, perhaps it was even Drayden that's holding her back on becoming a true Champion, but Diantha kept that thought within her for the meantime, if you want a child to believe you, tell them the things they want to hear.

And soon, Iris could feel Lance next to them, his arms around them too, pulling them close to him, and he's there telling Iris that she shouldn't worry too, that they're her family now too, and they were just looking out for her.

God Iris was just so so tired man, she's so fucking tired, she's physically and mentally drained, and she just melted in their touch, finally caving in, letting them comfort her. And god as twisted as it was, she somewhat felt a bit safe under their embrace.

But also imagine how the people of Opelucid and the Unova League would react tho ncmxnx like, that's their mayor, a gym leader too, and suddenly he's dead and Iris is mourning and the other champions are there to help her and such. But like, imagine if that'd stir up some rumours tho, especially given Lance and Leon's images towards the public now, that maybe they actually killed Drayden. Imagine a few people of Opelucid pulling Iris away from the champions a bit and telling them what they thought what happened, but Iris already knew, and if she had to be honest she doesn't wanna see anyone else dying, so she tells them that "no, grandpa was just.. struggling with health issues for a while now.. he was always so stubborn he didn't wanna go to the hospital.. maybe that's just it.."

And ofc, they believed her, no use insisting their theories and rumours are right, especially to the actual granddaughter of the person they're talking about, who they know is still mourning over the loss of her grandfather. So instead, they nodded and told her if there's anything they can do to help her and the rest of the League, she could just ask for their help.

But like, imagine Iris being so bitter abt that tho. Now they try to help her? It only took Drayden's death for them to help her? For them to see her as an actual person and not just some kid who kept insisting she's mature enough to be a champion? It actually made her laugh a bit, a pitiful chuckle really, and she drags herself back home, back where all the champions are waiting for her.

[seventh-district]

Figured I'd try my hand at some Redacted character post/text edits!

[ 1 / ? ]

Credit to @/sainthowlzon for all the Listener icons, and to @/elisacaleisa for their google drive with all the canon icons!

(slightly alternative version of the Solaires' GC edit below the cut bc i had a lil too much fun with what Vincent would name his contacts)

[ancha-aus]

NewAgeAU Drabble - Nine does not equal Ten

Hi @spotaus ! I am not even sorry at this point!! I had an idea and I think by the title you can guess what it is about this time :3

We are in post story again! (i am keeping my strike going lmao) but this time? very different character. Nine :3 (also. Xundyne's name for now is Ranha, from piranha... because she is a fish monster and well... I wanted a fish themed name for her lmao)

Also warning. Nine think very degrading and judgemental. in case that bothers you.

He is also a very unreliable narrator lmao.

*----------------*

Nine makes sure to frown as he crosses his arms while his king, and co-king honestly, disappear into the meeting room with the brat that calls himself a king.

Nine only acts annoyed of course. He knew he wouldn't be allowed into the meeting room and he had been planning on it. It is hard to search this place if he is suposed to be in one room.

Ranha stands by his side, huffing and puffing as she mutters stuff under her breath. She is honestly annoyed with not being allowed inside the meeting room. Nine is sure she will be fine with it after he shares his plan.

Nine watches the brat acting as king lead his own king and his right hand inside. They would both be named king after the coup but the resistance hadn't wanted to push the people of Ritten too far. Nine watches as the crown prince, prince Dream, follows the child and Nine still doens't understand why Dream hasn't taken the crown yet. It can't be that hard to take the power from the younger skeleton. How Nightmare is still seen as king is a mystery to Nine.

Sure it seems like things are okay after three years but Nine knows not to bindly believe people. He had hoped that Ten would have finally learned that lesson by now but it seems that wasn't the case. But that is okay. Nine will be the great brother he was meant to be and get through to Ten and get him home. Easy.

The meeting room door closes and Nine nudges his best friend "Hush." and he nods towards the side. Ranha tilts her head and her red hair shifts slightly. She glances at the door before following him down the hallway.

"What is the big deal Nine?" She seems puzzles.

Nine looks back over his shoulder but nothing happens. Hah. See? And this is why Nightmare still being seen as king is a mystery to him. Those Knights are nothing but hot air as he doesn't even see any of them following him, no wonder Ten got accepted into the role so quickly, the knights clearly can't spot a single threat even when it is right in front of them. All he sees behind them is a prestine looking cat watching them.

"I knew they weren't going to let us join the meeting."

Ranha looks annoyed "Then why did you ask me to join you? I could be exploring the town and checking the stalls and stuff! See what people really think about their weird king and the weirdos here." the shark monster huffs.

Nine rolls his eyes "Because I am in the castle now. Which means I can finally find Ten and talk some sense into him."

Ranha stares shocked before she smiles broadly "Nine you are a genius! Lets go!"

Nine grins as he waves Ranha to follow him.

It isn't the first time he is in this castle. It is the fourth now. Each time Nine would just watch and wait only to not see Ten. This time he is going to search himself. Nine is lucky that Nightmare is a brat and clearly inexperienced with getting allies as it is taking his king and the brat king ages to get a treaty finalised. Honestly how Orchard managed to get Sanctuary as ally is still a mystery but Nine doesn't have time to figure out how this fake king is managing.

If Nine knows one thing is that kings like that will always fall by the brave people who are willing to stand against them.

But that isn't Nine's job. He already made the wrong choice like this before. When he picked the coup over his brother. When he didn't bother to help his brother adjust to all the heavy changes.

Nine had needed time. Time to even believe there were other options. To see that these options weren't wrong and could work for him. His friends had helped him see this. Yet Nine hadn't permitted Ten these insights and moments.

This time though! This time he will make this work! Even if Nine knows that Ten will never be able to fully adjust and become like them. He has gone through too much conditioning to ever be his own person again. But Nine can lead him in the right direction at least.

Ranha knows the way and it seems that she has the same plan as Nine had. Which is going straight towards the private wing.

None of them had allowed access to a whole wing of the castle. Apparently that was the royal's private wing. Which who needs a whole wing to themselves?!

Selfish pricks. All of them.

They turn the corner and get out into the hall. Nine ignores the many many tapestries. Ranha is right behind him as they make their way all the way through the next hall with large windows. They finally reach the right hallway and slow their running. They walk side by side with confidence as the near the entrance. There are two guards there but that doesn't matter. Nine is a visiting guard from a country their stupid king wants a treaty with. It will be easy to gain access.

Nine is a step away from entering the royal wing. He can't help but look at the arch leading into the next wing. The arch is large and high and seems to almost be like tree roots or branches. With small leaves and everything. It looks so livelike and Nine wonders who carved it, it straight up looks like living tree branches. Many other decorations and details just like this one are all across and around this castle.

He can't wonder much longer as the two guards cross their spears in front of Ranha and him.

Ranha glares "What are you doing? Let us through!"

A cat like monster, orange of colour, sounds very unamused "No one is allowed access into the king's wing." She looks unbothered.

The dog monster next to her grins "What Harper said. Shoo little kiddos." the grin makes the slight greying around his snout stand out. He has short trimmed fur and most obviously, the cut tail.

Nine huffs as he stands taller, easily towering over the black and white dog "I was allowed access."

The dog hums and taps his chin before shaking his head "Nope! Doesn't work like that!"

Harper nods "Indeed. Only the royal family and those allowed acces by either them of the Head of House are allowed entrance."

Nine wants to roll his eyes at the stupid head of house title. Everyone should know that is just some stupid coverup. Nine has his theories but for now he sees his in. He gives a charming smile as he nods "I know of course. But he told me himself he needed me to grab something for him." he grins as he wiggles his eye brows. Hinting at a secret meaning.

The dog and cat share a look before Harper looks unimpressed "We do not allow entrance to anyone unless he told us himself he allows entrance."

Ranha luckily sees what Nine is trying and joins in "We seriously got the go ahead! It is an emergancy that we are allowed in."

The dog shakes his head again "No can't do! The last time I didn't follow the orders they cut off my tail! And I only have one of those and I don't want to imagine what will go next."

Nine feels sick to deep in his soul. They... They did what?!

Harper glances at her partner unamused "Shut it Shep."

Shep grins at her "What do you think Harp! What will be next?"

Harper looks umimpressed "If I am lucky it will be your tongue."

Nine feels sick. What is wrong with these people? Why are they still here? What kind of hell and torture kingdom did his stupid younger brother get himself stuck in? Well not for long! Nine will make sure to tell the others everything.

But only after he managed to get Ten home. To get Ten away from this place before they realised that Nine was going to bring this whole kingdom down. He won't make the same mistake of ignoring his brother just because it would be harder for him. No. He will first free his brother and then they will bring this hellhole down and people will be celebrating them.

Harper looks unamused at them "You are not welcome here. Please remove yourself from this area or we will be forced to remove you ourselves." She sounds bored as she says this.

Nine is very sure he can take them but Ranha huffs and walks away. Nine looks back betrayed before following her.

They walk through the halls until they end up in the tapastry hall again. Nine glares at Ranha "Why would you-"

Ranha stops as she shakes her head "You don't understand. You know how I sometimes have these feelings? Of incoming attacks?" Nine nods. It was one of Ranha's many talents and how Ranha was undefeated.

Ranha continues to speak "When you got ready to get us inside. I felt it. This large... presence. Suddenly and ready." she shakes her head "Danger. I felt it was better to retreat and make a better plan."

Nine frowns but sighs "Fair enough. The chance that Ten would be there is rather small..." He may be one of his knights but Nine doubts they truly get anything aside from a title and more dangerous jobs. Well and the masks, those are rather cool. Nine would like a mask. He thinks he would look amazing and very cool in one.

Ranha nods as she mutters "Where could he be... or who would know?" She rubs her chin "The knights probably. But i doubt they will want to help us. I have no doubt that whatever the king used to keep Ten listening to him also works on the other knights. Do you think it is somekind of mind control? or like blackmail? mind control would be okay to break but blackmail is much more sensitive, especially as it implies he got it somehow. We could also wait until the treaty is signed and go by Sanctuary and see if we can get more support through them. Make an allyship with them and then overthrow this whole country."

Nine should be listening. But all he can do is stare at the tapastries.

They happened to end before a set that Nine had been ignoring. Almost like the world itself is trying to force Nine to see and consider them. The first in the set that calls his attention is one showing two small skeletons. One in yellow and one in purple. A sun shown above the one in yellow and a moon shown above the one in purple.

It isn't hard to connect the purple skeleton with the brat king. But Nine doens't understand. Because the yellow one is clearly the crown prince. But they look the same age here. Same height and everything. It had already been confusing that the younger brother had gotten the crown before the older one but this made it seem as if they are much closer in age than the real them shows. It confuses him. It could be something to play up the dramatics but when they had their tour it was implied that these tapastries are a way to document the past.

Though the actual historic events could have gone down differently and this is just another piece of propaganda.

The next one shows a picture of a dark and seemingly partly liquid monster. A skeleton still but large and dark and with tentacles on his back. He stands tall with an arm pointed outwards, the young yellow skeleton is being send away. As the tall one remains with a crown on his dark skull.

Nine looks at the third that caught his attention. This one shows the dark skeleton standing behind the young king. The dark goop skeleton however doens't look menacing. Instead the sockets are closed as the large imposing figure stands with open hands towards the young skeleton in purple. The young skeleton has his sockets open and seems to stare outwards. The tentacles all hang around him as well, not ready to strike but in a way that seemed to surrender. a crown held within the young skeleton's hands.

Nine ponders. He wonders if the gooped skeleton had been Nightmare's parent. He knows that Nim was suposed to be the king before Nightmare and that the gooped skeleton took over. Something about taking the crown from the rightful heir. Nine knows that the gooped skeleton had been named Nightmare as well and Nine is very sure that this one just named the now ruling Nightmae after himself, like a Nightmare the second. This also ties in with the whole head of house theory he has. Nine knows that the head of house is a useless title often given to a favourite servant. Somekind of excuse to keep someone close without needing to put actual time and effort into them standing out as consort or advisor. And the tiny skeleton had to have come from somewhere.

Of course his theory still has holes in it. Mostly what the deal with Dream is and where he fit in. But Nine hopes to eventually figure it out. He already figured out a lot of the situation after all.

He looks at the last one and huffs. It shows the young skeleton in purple holding hands wiht an older looking skeleton in yellow. The moon and sun having been united into one symbol. On the moon side were figures which resembled the different knights. Nine can't help but stare at the one with the snow leopard mask. His brother... stuck in some legacy and played like a pawn... If Nine had tried harder to make Ten feel included would Ten have been okay? Not perfect but maybe a bit better?

On the skeleton in yellow's side was some warrior in blue with a large hammer and a skeleton with many colours and brown clothes with a tail.

Nine stares at the title 'Reunited.' Seems like all these pictures have names. Nine doesn't understand but figures it is some sort of propaganda. Something to mellow out people and make it seem like it is okay.

"Nine?"

Ranha looks worried before she looks at where Nine is staring and her smile turns gentle "Hey... I know you want to help him. And even if we can never truly make him fully whole. We can at least give him a safe place."

Nine sighs and nods "It is something." The damage that his father and old king did was too large. There is no way his simple and naive brother will be able to fully get over it. To be able to move past it. But Nine will do his duty as brother and keep Ten somewhere safe. Some simple jobs will be good. Some normal routine.

Ranha looks around and sees some maids walk by and Nine follows her as she rushes over. She smiles brightly at them before making some small talk. The maids seem happy and content. Easily talking back and giggling once or twice. Though Nine can't help but feel like this is not the way girls normlaly giggle when Ranha flirts with them. This seems more... amused? It is hard to explain. He notices a black cat on the window sill. Lounging as it stares at them with large yellow eyes.

Ranha is casual as can be once she asks the question "I was wondering if we could see a knight! You know. Maybe the one with the white panther mask?"

The maids share a look before one snorts "You mean Cross?" Nine just barely manages to keep his annoyance is. His brother's name is not fucking cross. It is Ten! That is his name and Ten will always be Ten! The maid hums and looks at her friend "Is it training time?"

The other shakes her head "I don't think so. I believe I saw sir Cross with sir Dust."

The first one laughs and nods "Oh that is easy then." she smiles brightly at them "They will be at the ranch. That is where Sir Dust always is."

Nine blinks confused. The ranch? Why? Ranha however asks where they can find it and the maids tell them how to get there. They do warn them to not bother this Dust knight when he is working with the horses before walking off together. Giggling and whispering stuff. They shoot them a look before rushing off giggling again.

Ranha grins and flexes her arms "Still got it." Nine isn't sure she does but he won't challange her on it. They follow the hallways and Nine can't help but stare at the walls around them.

The walls look strange. They have ridges and dips and when Nine feels them they feel like they are made of wood yet he knows for a fact that they are suposed to be rocks and bricks.

Nine once again wonders which masterful crafter and builder made this castle. It almost seems alive. It is warm and beautiful. Everywhere there is signatures of nature or references to it.

The castle he is used to. That of his father. It was all sharp lines and precision. Nothing was allowed to be out of place. No dust or dirt anywhere. Everything had to be perfect.

This castle was wilder. That is the best way Nine can explain it. It is wild and uncontained. It branches outwards. Stuff is uneven and different. The pillars aren't exactly the same even as they are all that same carved stone to look like roots. It feels alive. It feels living. It seems the breath. It feels like there is something larger at play.

Yet it doesnt feel welcome, he doens't feel welcome. Nine can't explain it exactly.

They get outside and follow the path. It takes them a while as they walk past some trees and through a small forest and then they see it.

It is a large ranch. Build with this deep greenish wood of all colours. WIth multiple large pens nearby. It is open and large. But the trees give it privacy. It is beautiful.

Nine feels Ranha tug on his armour and follows where she is pointing. In a pen he can see his brother! Ten is there but... he is seated on a beige horse. Large and strong looking. Antoher skeleton is nearby and seems to be messing with the reins of the horse.

Nine begins to walk closer but he starts to slow his steps. Because... Ten isn't wearing armour. Nine can't rememebr the last time Ten hadn't been wearing armour. Back at home he always had to be ready. Ten.... Ten didn't have time to relax in a casual outfit. Or do things for himself. And yet... here he is... under another tyrant yet... he is wearing casual clothes? He is sitting on a horse? is this somekind of trick of that king? Let Ten relax to make him more loyal? Maybe the brat is smarter than Nine thought.

Ranha shoots him a confused look before going to step closer to the pen but Nine stops her. He can't explain. it is just... Ten looks... He looks different. Not just his clothes but... something else. Nine can't quite explain what it is or put his finger on it. He needs more information. He needs to be prepared to break through any trick or lie. He nods towards the side where a large fench is located and some barrels. Ranha nods and sneaks there with Nine right by her side. They hide behind the barrels and Nine focusses his magic. He quickly enhances his sight and hearing and focusses in. Strangely enough he also feels like there is rian in the air but a glance up shows a cloudless sky. But any thought about the weird feeling in the air is forgotten as soon as Ten speaks.

"Are you sure about this Dust? I still don't think I am ready. What if he throws me off?!"

The other skeleton, Dust is just wearing a large sweater. It looks to be made of high quality. He also seems to be wearing just a beanie to cover his skull. A large red scarf wrapped around his neck. The scarf looks a different quality than everything else.

The other tilts his skull at Ten. Seemingly considering his answer "If you fall off. We can try again."

Ten glares "Dust this isn't funny."

Dust seems to disagree as he grins slightly, just a slight upturn of the teeth "It is fine Cross. Just a matter of trying again. And you and Limestone need to practise this."

Nine feels himself get angry as they use the fake name for his brother but he needs to remain calm. He needs to watch and learn.

Ten grumbles unhappily as he glares down at the horse "I just... I don't get why you can't just train him... You trained Basalt... and Granite for that matter!"

Dust tilts his skull "I did. But he needs to get used to you while running. Get used to how you move and your weight." he pets the horse, the horse leans into Dust's touch "There needs to be trust Cross. You need to trust Limestone that he won't throw you off. And Limestone needs to be able to trust you that you will lead him into the right direction."

Ten blinks and seems to stare at Dust for a moment before looking down at the horse. The animal just stares at him. "I... euh... oh..."

Dust tilts his skull the other way "Do you want to try galloping first?"

Ten looks up and Nine finally figured out what is different. Why Ten looks different. Ten is... smiling. He is smiling brightly and nods excited at the idea.

Nine... Nine can't remember the last time he saw Ten happy and smiling... It is a face he never saw on his brother.

Ranha mutters softly "Wow... I never... He looks so differnet now... so much... more like... A person? i guess? It is weird. I am used to him just. Standing straight and like saluting and being still and unmoving? Like some statue and not like a person?"

Nine nods because he notices it now. The way the Ten is messing with the reins. The way his leg seems to tap the stirrup. The way he seems to almost... wiggle in place a little.

Dust chuckles and nods as he pets the horse a few more times "Go for it. Limestone wants to move." and he takes a few steps back.

Ten gets a large smile on his face as he kicks his heels lightly back, Nine is very surprised when the horse starts moving. He thought you had to be rougher and kick harder to get horses to move. That was hardly a tick.

Yet it works. As Ten starts to ride the horse and the horse speeds up quickly. Very quickly. Ranha suddenly gasps "Holy shit. That horse still has like the three toe system."

Nine blinks in shock. He knows that the wild horses form Orchard were rumoured to be faster and much more diverse than the horses in other places. The wild horses continued to adapt and where made to travel long distances for faster speeds unlike the normal horse endurance. The toes give extra stability and would make the horses able to travel all kinds of terrain while still being fast.

Nine stares in awe as the horse speeds up and than continues to go full speed ahead. Ten tugs lightly on the reins and the horse reacts instantly. Making sharp turns and Nine notices that the back looks longer and sligthly bigger than the horses Nine is used to.

These. These truly are a different breed.

Maybe Nine can convince his king and friend to keep this allyship going for a bit longer. Or maybe get a few horses out of the deal. Nine has no doubt these horses could be much better with good riders.

Ten is.... surprisingly okay with riding the horse. Makes okay turns but well. It is just Ten so NIne is sure he is doing stuff wrong that they can work on back in Ritten, once they find his shortcomings.

Ten eventually returns to Dust and Ten smiles brightly and Nine can't help but stare. He looks happy. He is happy. That is what is different about him. He is relaxed and happy and he doesn't stand as a statue anymore.

Ten laughs as he grins at Dust "Limestone is even faster than before!"

Dust nods but has a tiny smile on his face. Looking very content and proud "Limestone is a strong horse. He is fast and loves to exercise and run. It is honestly a bigger problem to make sure he rests than anything." he crosses his arms and raises a brow at Ten "Remind you of someone."

Ten blushes and looks to the side as he rubs his neck "I have been getting better with the whole work life balance."

Dust nods and agress easily. He pets the horse and looks at Ten "Want to try going faster?"

Faster?! How do you go faster than that!?

Ten looks deeply unhappy and unsure "I don't know..." he pets the horse.

Dust seems to stare at him before speaking "Would it be better if I lead the path with Opal?"

Ten looks up and a look of pure relieve on his face. Had... had Ten always been this expressive?

Ten nods "Please."

Dust nods and looks to the side. He clicks his tongue and teeth and one of the horses looks up. A smaller but beautiful grey horse with striking purple eyes. The horse starts running and jumps over the fench before trotting over to the two skeletons and horse.

Ten laughs and grins at Dust "Opal is showing off again."

Dust sighs and nods "I can't manage to unlearn her to jump fenches." the horse stops before him and pushes her whole head into his chest and arms. Dust pets the head and neck "You ready to lead Cross and Limestone?" The horse pulls back and tussles her head around before waiting patiently.

Dust puts his hand into his hip bag and pulls out this curious stone and metal item. He taps the side and bright gemstones light up and runes start to shine.

Ten looks alarmed "What is that!?"

Dust glances at him and a small smile appears "It is a prototype. Geno gave it to me to test it as I ride horses. It is suposed to be something to make it easy and quick to saddle up horses."

Ten looks deeply unhappy as he glares at the item as if it personally offended him "That stupid smug bastard. He is just trying to buy you over with stupid gifts."

Dust looks deeply amused "It is a prototype."

Ten throws up his arms "You are the only person who would find a good use for this!"

Dust chuckels as he lets the item get near the horse and it shines before it starts unfolding and a few clicks later and the horse is equipped with the normal rider things. Dust gets on top of the horse with a grace and confidence that leaves Nine open mouthed. He never... Even the people at home...

Dust looks at Ten "Ready?"

Ten grins as he nods "Yes. Lock the reins and just hold on right?" as he says it he messes with the headpiece on the horse and Nine wants to roll his eyes.

Dust nods and speaks "Indeed. Just make sure it is ready as if you are going to make a get away." and he waits.

Shit he really is patient... Is that why he is teaching Ten?

Ten nods and sits up straight "Ready!"

Dust chuckles as he turns his horse. He checks back over his shoulder to Ten "Go for it. Get him to follow Opal." Dust doesn't even tug on the reins and Nine can't even spot an obvious movement to direct the horse to start moving. How did he do that?

Ten takes a deep breath before he leans closer to the horse and grabs hold on some extra handbars on the headpiece of the horse. The horse immediantly looks around as Ten nudges the horse to look at Dust and the leaving horse.

The horse stares before it starts to trod after the other skeleton and horse. Ten meanwhile stays as he is. Relaxing against the horse as his horse just follows Dust and his own horse.

It is fascinating. Especially when Dust starts to speed up with some unseeable comment and Ten's horse follows right along. There is no doubt. There is full commitment of both horses.

While Nine had no doubt that Ten still has much to improve with horse riding. Dust seems to be a master. He directs the horse with minimal movement and the horse seems to react immediantly to any unheard and unseen comment.

Soon both horses are running through the pen but it still isn't the gallop speed of before. Dust speaks up casually "We are going to practise you trusting Limestone. Just get into the position to blind ride. We are going to have Limestone follow Opal's lead."

Ten nods "Okay. Okay. I can... I can do that." He lays fully against the horse and pulls his feet out of the saddle footholds. He messes with the saddle and the footholds get a lot higher and further towards the back. Cross does some weird combination of laying and crouching on the horse as he tugs his feet back into the holsters.

Dust looks back over his shoulder. Not at all seeming concerned about having to look where he is going as he blindly tugs at the right moment to make his horse make a turn "Not quite there but this is fine to practise with for now." he pets the horse's neck before leaning closer to the horse and the horse shoots of.

It goes faster than any horse Nine has ever seen before. It is fast and nimble as Dust truly rides the horse. The other horse with Ten blindly following-

Blind Riding. They don't mean it with looking. They mean it as they don't control the horses beyond the minimum. They are minimising the pressure and bother they could give the horses which enables those to run faster than before.

And if this is just the start... How fast can they go?

Ranha watches with her own mouth open before she mutters "This... this must be why he is a Knight. Not fighting or anything like that. He has a way with the horses."

Nine agrees and thinks she is right. The guy on the horse is fragile and delicate looking. Nine has no doubt that he towers over the other. Soft spoken too... But if he is this good with the horses. If he is able to train the wild horses and make them do this kind of stuff? no wonder they immediantly snatched him up and gave him the higest position they could. Make him stay.

The two horses are almost flying around the running pen. Then Dust leads his horse towards the middle where a small pond is located. Then Dust nudges the horse and it just jumps over the pond! It lands easily and keeps running. The horse with Ten doesn't pause a single step and copies the first horse. It lands safely and without a single issue.

Dust holds up an arm and fist and the horse with Ten starts to slow down and continues walking another round before stopping. Dust lets his horse walk by before just jumping off before nudging his horse. It huffs before continuing its trot across the ring.

Ten pants as he grins widely at Dsut "That was awesome!"

Dust chuckles "It is rather fun to just let the horses do their thing isn't it? and you made the jump first try. Killer fell at least twice."

Ten blinks as he looks up shocked "Twice?"

Dust nods "At least. I am pretty sure he snuck off to practise with Granite while I had my private training." he is by Ten's side as he checks the horse "How are you feeling? You were rather tense."

Ten laughs as he rubs his neck "I am fine... thanks for checking... It is just. I think I am done for today. Thanks again for... being here i guess."

Dust pauses his movements as he starts to undo the horse harnass "It is no problem. I am always here." and he clips it fully off.

Nine has made the decision that he likes this knight. The one he met first, the one wiht goop? The one that claimed Ten as his brother? Nine doens't like him. Weirdo with always having tear trails on his face. Not to forget how cocky and confident he acts. Must be some kind of trick and lie that he keeps up to fool and intimidate others. But Nine isn't fooled. He can see through that easily.

He also doesn't like the bigger guy. Dude moves too quietly for someone his size and that hole in his skull? You don't just get that on accident. Something sinister is in that one's past no doubt.

This one? Just a guy trying to train horses and help Ten with his horse and training? Nine can appreciate that. And sure! The fact he looks cute and pretty helps a lot too. Nine would in theory be fine with this guy joining them in Ritten as well. It would be nice for Ten to have someone who is already his friend. Help him feel at home even more. And then Nine can work on impressing the other by showing his skills! It would be quick and easy!

Ten is by Dust's side as they mess with the saddle and headpiece. They talk about settings and prefered length. Nine is honestly not sure what any of it means so Ten probably doesn't either.

Ten looks at Dust and looks down a bit embarrassed "I... I know I am asking a lot... But i don't really feel like going inside already... Mind showing some tricks? again?" and he looks hopeful.

Dust looks at him and nods "I don't mind."

Fuck he is so patient with Ten... Maybe this guy was a good influence on Ten. Helped him with his lessons and training. someone had to be as Nine doubts the king or those other two knights were.

Ten looks downright excited as he waits by the fench as Dust leads the horse towards the other pen where the beige horse joins the other horses. Nine can count at least ten in there, a whole herd of horses all slightly different shaped and colours. All looking healthy and strong and interacting.

Dust returns and gets on top of his grey horse with practised ease. Ten leans against the fench as he watches.

Dust turns his horse around and starts galloping through the area. Even faster than when he had been leading Ten on the other horse. Ten cheers as he grins widely. It looks so... unlike the brother Nine is used to... So very different.

Dust meanwhile makes the horse take a large turn and Ten grins as he looks around before grabbing a cap and throwing it into the pen. Dust aims the horse and straight up leans sideways and off the back of the horse. Almost fully upsidedown to easily snatch the cap of the ground before pulling himself back on the horse's back. Not once slowing down.

Ranha gasps "Hole shit that is so difficult... How?! Without slowing down!?" She is sitting up straighter to enable her to see everything easier. Pure awe on her face and Nine feels like he may have been not fully aware of how difficult that seemingly easy trick is...

Dust runs with the horse by Ten and straight up puts the cap on his skull. Again without once slowing down. Ten laughs and cheers "Go Dust go!" as he grins.

Dust keeps moving the horse around quickly and now he has started to zigzag with it! Nine blinks and looks at Ranha "Isn't that like... suposedly very hard for horses?"

Ranha nods as she doesn't look away from the display "It is insane! Horsese make large turns because of their back. I don't know how that horse is that flexible or how that guy can just direct the horse to make the turns by not actively turning but instead almost twisting in a jump?!" she stares "Is this what the rare horses can do? That inhabit this land? We need to get Regius to get some horses!"

Nine glares at his best friend "Don't speak the king's name so casually."

Ranha waves him off "It is fine. We were all friends before he became king so we are good."

Nine huffs as he focusses on the display of masterful horse riding. It is just that not speaking the title is disrespectful and he will not make them seem unprofessional or like they don't take their ruling class seriously. Regius only became king after the fall of the old one and Nine doesn't want people to think he is an easy target just because of that. And he doubts a brat like this country's king can see how much work they had to put into bettering what they had and helping their land and people heal from all the damage.

Ranha makes a curious noise close to choking and Nine pays attention just to see Dust standing on the back of the horse. Perfectly balanced and even balancing on one leg as the horse keeps running around the pen. He steps off the horse on a fench where he runs alongside the horse, the horse finally slowing a bit down, before Dust steps back on the back and the horse speeds up again.

Dust crouches down as he puts his hands on the horse's back before just making a handstand!

Nine can't imagine how hard standing on a horse could be. much less making a handstand?! He knows how to make a handstand of course and it is easier to do it with momentum. Dust did it without that.

Ten keeps cheering for his friend as Nine stares in awe. Ranha is muttering about how insane this is and how there has to be magic at play. Yet aside from the presure of the rain he has felt since the start he hasn't noticed any spells of any type. Not even to help lead or control the horses like other riders do. Nine can't help but just keep staring.

Dust sits back on the horse but backwards as he calmly undoes the saddle. The saddle falls off the horse and as soon as the saddle hits the ground it seems to disappear. Right, the saddle was part of that magic item Dust is testing. All while Dust remains seated on the powerful beast that is still running. Dust turns back around and messes with the reins that seem to make handholds on the headpiece.

Dust next grabs hold of the handholds and lays his legs on the back of the horse. He taps the side of the neck of the horse nad motions forwards before he lays fully against the horse.

The horse going fast before is nothing compared to how fast it runs now. It is bolting through the pen and there seems to be zero control that Dust has over it. Instead Dust just holds on and lets it do its things.

"He minimised his contact and hold on the horse. he freed the horse from the saddle to enable it to move even more freely and go faster!" Ranha looks downright excited as she just stands there and stares. Nine glares at her and pulls her back down to hide wiht him.

"Stop standing! They may see you!" Nine feels an anxiety at being caught snooping now. Not like before where he would just lie and say he wasn't snooping or spying. Now he is nervous about how it would reflect on him as a person, especially to the smaller and skilled skeleton. Fuck he wishes he was wearing his better armour than this one. He hadn't wanted to seem like he was trying to impress Orchard's ruler or make it seem like they thought they needed to impress this leader but he is regretting it now. How can he show him his best side when he isn't prepared!?

The horse continues to run before coming to a slow stop near Ten. Ten is grinning widely as he claps his hands "That was so cool! Dust it is nuts how fast you can go with Opal!"

Dust shrugs as he gets off and grabs a brush to start taking care of the animal while Ten stands near his side. "I was wondering soemthing." Dust voice is soft and calm. Even.

Ten nods as he watches Dust work "Ask away."

Dsut shoots him a look before speaking again "I figured you would want to be near Nightmare with the guests here. Why with me?"

Ten goes quiet as he looks down. Nine nudges Ranha and nods. It is their time to act! This is the perfect set up-

A hand grabs him by the neck and pushes him flush against the barrels he had been hiding behind. Ranha makes a shocked sound and Nine can barely see her in the same position as he is in.

A deep voice speaks up "Dont you know that eavesdropping is rude? But what could be expect from snooping immature children."

Nine freezes. That is the voice of the big knight guy. The one wiht the lion mask. Horror. how... when? Nine hadn't even heard him! When did they get exposed and found out!?

Horror continues to speak "But if you wish to listen in. You will listen. You will hear what Cross has to say instead of speaking for him."

Ranha growls "His name isn't-UGH!" she chokes for a moment before the kngiht releases his grip a bit again.

"Listen."

Ten finally answers "It is dumb..."

Dust hums as he leans against the horse "Try me."

Ten isn't looking up as he rubs his own arm "I... I didn't expect them to be happy with me... That is fair. I just. Didn't expect them to hate me without knowing me." Ten frowns as he softly pets the horse "It is like... They are unhappy with who i am now and want me to be who i used to be, who i don't want to be anymore. Yet they hate that person." Ten hunkers in on himself "I don't... like feeling like that."

Dust frowns as he puts a hand on Ten's shoulder "That is on them."

Ten frowns as he looks away "It isn't... I" He frowns as he moves his hands around. Had... Had Ten always moved this much? That can't be right. Nine remembers him being still and unmoving. Their father had always been strict about staying in line and acting as they had to and-

and...

and being... the way he wanted... to be...

Like Nine wants Ten to be.

Oh...

Ten isn't the problem... is he?

Dust takes Ten's face between his hands and makes Nine's younger brother look at him "Cross. Look at me. No i mean it. Look at me." Ten stares at him and Dust looks at him "You are you. No one else. No one telling you how you should be or act is right. You are fine like this. You are happy like this. You can be however you want to be, whatever makes you feel good and feel like you are you." Dust gentle bonks their skulls together "I think you would do best if you visit Lust for a bit and you two hang out and focus on something else. Okay?"

Ten frowns but gives a slow nod "Okay."

Dust nods as he keeps holding the taller skeleton "And this is not me sending you away. I enjoy us spending time together. But i think being here while they are here is stressing you out. Making you second guess yourself. Go to a different environment and let yourself relax. When you come home we can try more horse riding or you can help Killer trying to get Kingdom Devourer out of a tree again. Go relax."

Ten frowns before nodding and just hugging the other. Dust chuckles and pats his back "You are fine the way you are Cross... In matter of fact. You are perfect the way you are." Ten's breath seems to hitch as he just holds the other tighter and continues to hold him. It isn't until some time passed that Ten lets go and steps back with an embarrassed expression and... and slightly hazy looking eyes.

"Sorry... I know you don't... don't like... I am sorry."

Dust chuckles and pats his back "It is alright. Go hang out with your boyfriend while I clean up."

Boyfriend... but... why would he... who would even want to date Ten? He doens't even have a personality and is just a tool and an idiot-

Except everything he has seen now shows otherwise and... Why does Nine expect Ten to be the same way that their father wanted them to be?

Ten walks away with a wave and goes straight towards the castle. Looking a bit better as he is smiling and seems to have a small bounce in each step.

Dust watches him go before he just walks straight towards their hiding place oh shit when did-

Dust stops before them and looks unamused. His gaze cold and seemingly able to look straight into his soul. Nine would have been frozen even without the hand holding his neck.

Dust looks at Horror "Good catch H. Trouble?"

Horror hums "They tried to get into our king's wing. I was ready to give backup."

Nine feels himself grow cold. They had been followed? The whole time? They had been watched the whole time and they hadn't even noticed!

Nine... Nine may have been wrong about how capable these guys are...

Dust hums "Lets put them in the jail cell as time out. Children should know not to wander after all."

Nine feels humiliated as he and Ranha are dragged towards the castle. Dust walks behind them as Horror leads the way, Horror does not let them walk.

They walk by some servants and Nine sees it are the same maids that they met in the hallway. The maids giggle and nod respectfully to both Horror and Dust and greet them with "Hello my Knights." before they shoot a glance at Ranha and Nine before gigglign together.

They are dropped off in a cell each and the door is locked. Nine goes to check the lock only to realise there is magic woven into the very bars and walls. These locks aren't just physical but also magical. He can't break them out.

Horror hums "There. Children have their time out." he looks highly amused as he nods to Dust "Mind taking over watch?"

Dsut shrugs as he walks towards the exit "I will take your shift. you make sure the children behave." and he leaves.

horror looks at them amused and Nine feels terrible...

Not just the fact he looked like an idiot to the pretty and skilled skeleton. But he also made a fool out of himself to be caught snooping and trying to get into places he isn't allowed to be.

He sits on the bed and can't help but look at his own hands.

Does... does Ten really not want to come home? How can Nine get him to come along? Will he be forced to drag his brother home.

Nine pauses at the thought and feels a new horrifying feeling overtake himself.

When did he become so much like his father?

[steinbit]

what it feels like to no longer care about label discourse