#this was very long and the goal is to make y'all not sound stupid about latinx people

[frankbelloriley]

I find non-Latinx pundits talking about the Latinx vote incredibly frustrating, and before I got into it: yes, I'm going to use this term that is frustrating not because of the letter at the end but because it generalizes a large swath of people that share nothing in common except an oppressor from a European peninsula at one point in history, as it was made by LGBT and nonbinary youth who felt that Latino and Latina did not appropriately include them, not by white intellectuals as some people falsely claim, and if you have a problem with me using Latinx to be inclusive to all genders of people, please go fuck yourself.

Okay, maybe I am more angry than frustrated. Anyway.

On the Latinx side, yes there are those who have deluded themselves who think when the right talks about "Mexicans" they are not referring to them but to actual criminals and illegals and are willing to hear and help them out to convince them that they are not all like that. It's important to look at the percentage of Border Patrol officers who are Latinx. There's both the flawed logic of "if we are the ones to get the illegals out, then we will be accepted of white people" and the historical precedent set by Irish immigrants in the late 1800s becoming police officers and fireman in the Northeast as their way to ascend closer to the ruling class.

That's one aspect. Another aspect is there are Latinx immigrants who are fleeing leftist governments explicitly because they are leftist governments. Cubans are the poster child for this, but more recently, Venezuelans are coming here to get away from Maduro. If they were left-leaning but thought the governments went too far, they would stay where they were to try and work with what they had. These immigrants want nothing to do with any politics that are left of center. Yes, some of them are like a certain co-director of animated superhero movies whose ancestors were wealthy at the expense of others and whose property was forcibly taken by the others, but however, some of them were actually oppressed by these leftist governments and now have trauma that the American Right has developed a well oiled machine at triggering in order to get their votes. As I've said on here before, I really do hate how Cuba is talked about in the American political landscape. Bernie Sanders got flack from both sides for saying, "Castro gave his people healthcare and taught them how to read, but we cannot forget the atrocities he committed against his people," which is the stance that you, as an American, need to internalize and hold in your head. I hate that the American Left touts Cuba as this leftist gold standard when it comes to public healthcare and then willfully omits Castro's atrocities, and I hate that the American Right held up Castro as a boogeyman and then willfully omits the United States's role in Fulgencio Batista's dictatorship that created an environment that would allow Castro to violently come to power. Both sides forget about the Cuban people at heart, and it's just a football in a political argument to them.

And then going off the fact that the GOP is very good at triggering the very real trauma caused by authoritarian leftist governments, the Democrats completely take the Latinx vote for granted and do nothing. They take that bloc's vote as granted as the Black vote, but the major difference is that Black voters can point to the LBJ's Civil Rights Acts as material things the party did for them, whereas no such legislation exists for Latinx people. In fact, many older Mexicans vote Republican out of loyalty for Reagan giving amnesty to immigrants. The two Democratic candidates in recent memory with any Latinx voter outreach worth a damn were Beto O'Rourke because he's from Texas, and Bernie Sanders. Democrats love to conveniently set aside that Berne Sanders destroyed a full field of candidates in the 2020 Nevada primary, and it was because of his Latino outreach. He started reaching out in 2017 with a strong ground game message of, "hey, we're here for you, and no matter how the election shakes out in a few years, we're going to be here for you afterwards." He understood that how the typical Latinx voter sees the Democratic Party as only caring about them when there's an election and then abandoning them when there isn't. Biden's Latinx outreach in 2020 was completely nonexistent, and I imagine it was the same in 2024, and Kamala chose to inherit all of Biden's people. They did nothing, so they got nothing.

Which leads me to my final point. I am curious about the amount of Latinx would-be voters simply stayed home. I'm a Puerto Rican who grew up with parents who regularly said, "eh, both parties are about the same, they just trade times when they're in power," and that is rooted in the island's politics. Things are currently changing with the (re)emergence of an Independence Party, but the during my parents's time and 99% of my life, Puerto Rico was ruled a Statehood Party and a Commonwealth Party, one wanting to make the island a US state and the other to keep it a commonwealth. Both are corrupt and indistinguishable. The previous Statehood Party governor was up on stage at the DNC to announce support for Kamala, and the current Statehood Party governor candidate is a Trumpista. Similar candidate goofiness exists in the Commonwealth Party. I would argue this is a feature, not a bug, in the US colonialism of Puerto Rico because it's not outwardly disenfranchising an island of people (although they still do that as they cannot vote for US President) but it does turn off people to the democratic process entirely and that helps the United States. This is a very skimmed over version of the political revolú that is Puerto Rico that much smarter people can talk about (look up Bianca Graulau), but my point is: I grew out of the "both parties are basically the same" mindset, but I understand why other Puerto Ricans would believe that when they saw Kamala stand next to Liz and Dick Cheney, and they, in return, chose to sat home.

Admittedly, I have more explanations than solutions to all of this. My primary solution would be to actually care about Latinx people, specifically for Mexicans to care about Puerto Ricans to care about Colombians to care about Panamanians and so on and so forth except for Cubans because they view themselves as white so you can leave them with the oppressors (that is (mostly) a joke, but you get my drift). And my problem with that is my problem at large when a simple majority chooses that man: I do not know how to convince other people to care for other people. My other solution is for the Democratic Party to actually give a shit about Latinx voters all year round instead of pretend to give one once every four years.

[someprettyname]

So I was bored yesterday night and I took a few 'who's by bllk bf' quizzes...out of which on one quiz I got...

and this one particular quiz and it's questions made me realise....

CRAP❗❗

Everyone has that one character they find the most interesting/fascinating and notice the FIRST, mine was Kunigami.

Fuck. I still remember it. It was this scene...

And then he said "I like to play it fair." And my mind INSTANTLY ran back to all the moments and I realised he was NOT one of those mean guys who was at other's throat. (I mean, pardon. When I started blue lock that's how I summarised it in a nutshell : teenage boys at each other's throat to achieve their goal. I mean, it was pretty early on in the show so I didn't have individual opinions on every character.)

It was that moment that I realised he was actually a calm guy who had morals and principles (hot. Very very hot.) AND HE DID stick to them at all times.

I mean, even after wild card, he still does. Let's not forget that he did assist Isagi in his goal. He has gotten harsh with words, so what? He has gotten more cold, so what? He has become more of a lone wolf, so what?

SO. WHAT?

Let's sit down. I have a few things to say. [ Long post under the cut.]

I'll never understand why this fandom is SO mean to him. First of all, not all cold/rude guys are BAD. Besides, we haven't seen him interact with non-rivals/normal people after wild card. Second of all, honestly? What do y'all even expect? Have you not gone through a high stress period? Have you not been through a VERY INTENSE trauma in a VERY SHORT period?

If you haven't, you better not comment on my baby or i WILL fight you. 😠

Let's not forget he had to beat 264 HUNGRY AND VILLAINOUS guys in wild card. (I mean, our MC Isagi himself came to that point many times throughout season 1 where his dreams were at stakes. If those kids were so intense in blue lock can you imagine what would've happened in wild card? Yep. 100x worse. I wouldn't be surprised if there were sabotage attempts at him multiple times. Or if what happened at wild card is WAY worse than what we are expecting. Then would y'all come back apologising, just like you did with Kaiser?)

And as of what we know about wild card, a lot of factors were out of the control of a player. I mean, how your body is and whether you can shape it to be ambidextrous is NOT in your control. Of course in that case he worked the hardest to stay in the competition. He's still going VERY STRONG for someone who has pushed himself past his limits and overworked himself. (You don't understand guys, the changes he bought to his body...how much time did he even had for that? 1 month? 2 month? No. As someone who has been to gym and been on a good diet with muscle training and weight lifting, those changes are TOO BIG to be easily achieved in that span of time. If you do weight training you'd know how tough it is. Only then would you know JUST HOW MUCH my sweetheart boy pushed himself 😟)

I hope kaneshiro gives us more details about what EXACTLY happened in wild card. How was his experience there? What was done to him? But, even without that, anyone with basic empathy can say it wasn't a very good place to be. Your passion, your dreams at stake, you're overworking yourself and that too SEVERELY, and on top of all that you are CURBED of your orginal play style and have to copy someone else. That sounds HORRENDOUS. And he went through all that. He survived all that. He probably doesn't even realised he survived something which would have KILLED someone else. Literally. He's a damn warrior. Fucking give him credits for that guys. Why is no one talking about this? Y'all just make memes and slander him, which, fine. But no respect post? No character analysis?

We, as a fandom, have failed him :(

My baby 🥺 he deserves the world 🤧

And DO NOT FUCKING GIVE ME "geez what's so big about it? He can't play for Japan? There are other teams out there." No. Stop. Are you stupid? Do you not get it? His rivals, his biggest competitors are right here, in blue lock. If he or ANYONE for that sake, loses here, it'd break their confidence. Break as in SHATTER their confidence and self belief. Putting everything at stake and giving something your ALL without a plan B is SCARY. Sure thing he can play for other national team, but at the back of his head...that one voice saying "You're a loser. You lost to those guy who were competing to be the best. Leave alone being the best, you aren't even in the league of the ones aspiring to be the best." Do you know how tough it is to overcome it and shake it off? Blue lock is something all those disqualified kids were in for a few months, but the trauma of that failure they're carrying with them is gonna last....who knows how long?

If I could, I would take all the Kunigami hate and disrespect and direct it towards that monk boy. I DESPISE him oh my god. If anything, we should be thanking Kunigami (REO stans, I'm looking at you). If we look plot wise, he and Reo were at equal chances of losing at blue lock and of course, OF COURSE Reo was chosen. Mikage is not a character who was designed to someone who has the potential to survive wild card. Kunigami was someone who's muscle power and build was highlighted since the beginning. Besides, that match with Shidou (I don't count the monk dude as a player) must've served to humble REO. That's good atleast. The only way REO and Kunigami could BOTH survive after losing that match was this. So if Kunigami was chosen, REO would've been sacrificed.

I trust kaneshiro as a writer and that's why I'm so curious on what is he trying to convey through Kunigami's story. Is it the harsh and toxic reality that for some people, just good principles won't help you be successful and that you need atleast some toughening up and at least SOME amount of evil to excel? Because if yes, then FUCK YOU KANESHIRO. You didn't have to attack me like that. Ouch. That hurt.

By any chance, if you look closely, the day he beats Shidou I'll be the one cheering the loudest :)

Not because I have any resentment against Shidou. No. Not at all. But because of the metaphor that win would carry. :) [ and I love my orange head too much anyways ]

You might say, oh he has become so rude and villainous, and THAT'S THE POINT. He was NOT like this, and at the core, people don't change so easily. So if he's so hard on other people, can you imagine what he's like to HIMSELF? What self depreciation and roughness he puts himself through? If you're gifted with a good empathy or have gone through similar experiences in a way or the other, you might be able to tell.

Hm. That's enough yapping for now. I feel better. Now if you will, I'd like to go and fantasise wrapping him up in a warm blanket, give him hot chocolate, then lay him down on my lap, run my fingers through his hair (flufffff) and let him cry...or....vent. both maybe. Whatever he wants. Because, i don't know about you guys, but I still love him. And I have it in me to be strong for him and help him heal.

Kunigami Rensuke, Mi amor. You deserve the world. ♥️

[viky2318]

Hey! Sorry if I forgot to post TWO DAYS AGO (i try to post more or less every three days) but I got a little messy.

Anyway HERE'S MY CHRISTMAS GIFT FOR Y'ALL

Underground, Waterfall

Undyne was suddenly awaken by a knock on the door of her house. She confusedly got up and checked the hour. MIDNIGHT?!? Who the hell goes around knocking at the people's door at midnight?? Maybe it was an emergency? The fish huffed and went at the door (still in pajamas). When she opened, she saw a tall skeleton looking at her. He was almost as tall as her, and had a huge smile. "Good evening miss! Can I join the royal guard?" He asked joyfully. She just... Slammed the door shut. "Not gonna deal with this crap now" she thought while going back to sleep. The next day Undyne almost forgot about the thing. And I say "almost" because she immediately remembered the fact when she saw the skeleton still standing in front of the door. "What the heck..." She mumbled while opening the door. The fish had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn't daydreaming. "You remained here, standing in front of my door... The whole night?" she half asked half stated. "of course! after you closed the door, I noticed that, well, it was kind of late. so I waited here until you woke up!" the skeleton explained. Undyne thought of it for a few seconds. the guy seemed kind of determined... "what's your name, kid?" she asked. the skeleton answered eagerly: "my name's Papyrus!". Undyne thought for another second, just to make sure she wasn't doing anything stupid, then decided: "a'ight Papyrus, give me a minute then you'll show me what you know". Papyrus seemed exited. Undyne wondered if the guy even knew what a royal guard was. she put on a shirt and a pair of jeans (she was STILL in pajamas), then got out. "so, you know what a Royal guard is supposed to do?" she asked. "obviously!" the skeleton started. "a royal guard has the duty to protect people, and help them! they also have to capture humans for the king, in order to open the barrier!". Undyne grinned. the kid was at least informed. "very well Papyrus. But are you able to protect the people?". Papyrus's smile seemed getting even bigger. "of course ma'am! i do am indeed a very good fighter. maybe not the best one, but i do what I can, of course!". "heh, the guy have confidence but knows his limits" she thought. "well, then show me what you've got. your goal now will be protecting the dummy! if i just touch it, you lose. okay?". Papyrus seemed like he was waiting for this moment. "Yes miss!" he exclaimed. "oh, and call me Undyne. 'miss' makes me sound old" she added. the skeleton summoned a bone, and held it in his hand like a sword. she grinned even wider. "very well. let's start then". Undyne summoned some spears and threw them at Papyrus. he easily doged them making sure to keep the dummy away from them. she got more spears and preparred a ground attack. the flying ones didn't even got near the skeleton or the dummy. the ones from the ground got Papyrus a little off guard, but immediately took the dummy and jumped away. they kept like this for a good half hour, Undyne attacking and Papyrus jumping around with the dummy. then Undyne decided to use her yellow spears. Papyrus avoided them at the beginning, but almost got hit when they bounced back. the dummy's head flied away. the skeleton appeared a litte concerned for a second, then sighed and smiled away the worries. Undyne was more than happy. the guy appeared to be extremely skilled. "man! i didn't had such a fight with a newbie in a very long time! who was your teacher?" she asked. the skeleton shrugged. "i learned by myself" he shortly answered. "oh really? that's just surprising! come, let's keep this conversation inside. I'm really curious now!". they got in the house and Undyne made some tea.

She discovered a few things about the guy. he recently moved to Snowdin Town with the brother (that appears to be a very lazy guy). they first lived at New Home, but here he didn't got really into the details. he heard of the Royal guard by the canine unit at Snowdin, and immediately wanted to be useful. he trained alone in the forest, and when he felt ready he searched for the head of the royal guard, to ask if he could join. after a good hour of chatting, undyne said: "ok Papyrus, listen. now i have a lot of stuff to do, and even if you're really a talented fighter you need to improve, so what if you come back tomorrow? we can train together, and i can get to know you better". Papyrus got really exited. "o-of course! it would be wonderful!". he thanked her for her time and for the tea and went away. the guy appeared a little childish, but for the rest he seemed really fond of his decision. The next day he came back, this time at a decent hour. they trained together, and then went inside chatting.after a week or so, Undyne noticed that Papyrus seemed... too innocent? he seemed so kind and sweet, she started fearing that making him join the royal guard could be a bad thing for him. he didn't seemed ready to face a death, or to kill someone himself. so one day, she came out with what seemed to be a good idea.

"cooking?" Papyrus asked unsure. "yes, of course! a royal guard has to know haw to cook. what if you find yourself isolated from every abitated area for many days? you have to be able to prepare a meal for yourself!". Undyne explained. Papyrus thought about it a moment then nodded. "Yes, I think you're right. Of course, the great Papyrus can do also this!" "Yeah, that's the spirit!" Undyne exclaimed. Papyrus was a smart and energetic guy, so convincing him of doing something strange was hard of you didn't had a good motivation. Luckily, he didn't had any idea of how to cook, becouse Undyne surely wasn't a great cooker. She tried to make it appear really connected to fighting, and they had a lot of fun, but... Yeah whatever they did... it wasn't edible. They were supposed to make a simple pasta, but the house almost got burnt down. Papyrus didn't seemed really happy. She said that cooking was really hard, and that with time he would have learned every secret of this complicated art. He smiled and helped cleaning, then got back home.

Yeah, maybe it wasn't really her best idea.

HOPE YOU LIKED IT I THINK IT SUCKS BUT WHATEVER

[nightswithkookmin]

RE HOW BIGHIT MARKETS BTS

Thanks for the question dear.

Marketing is for a lot of things but in BTS's case, I'd say the primary goal of marketing them is to expose the entire group and or the individual members to an audience, a particular audience at a time, to brand them in a way that makes them appealing to that target market- to put it simply.

During one of the recent run episodes, when Jimin performed his dance from Serendipity- which I must say, God he is breathtakingly beautiful when he dances. Serendipity and the choreo is my weakness. If I see anything better than that- hold on, there's filter too. Ayayaya.

Stream Serendipity and Filter🔪

Oh and did y'all see JM's bit in Film out? Omg! I'm afraid I'd have to fly to South K to kiss his talented ass morning, afternoon, evening.

Who's coming?

Anywho, when Jimin performed Serendipity on Run and suggested that was the dance the staff was performing, the members- cough RM, quickly pointed out how he was plugging, self promoting (to Run's target audience)

Run has a different demographic.

When Suga talked about them not being funny on their Let's BTS show on KBS the Host pointed out how they were actually funny in their Run episodes.

A lot of Army(who are already fans of BTS or each individual member) watch Run but not all who watch Run are Army or even listen to BTS songs. So any performance of an individual's music or choreo would attract such a 'unique' viewer who might go on to become that member's stan or bias etc.

Similarly, when a member embarks on a solo project they are exposed to a new or unique audience. That's where most of the solo stans come from.

For V, his fanbase are not just made up of people who enjoy him as a musician but as an actor as well.

He has a strong fanbase in SK outside of 'Army' because of his exposure to the Korean market beyond BTS and this comprises of his musical collaborations with Korean Artists and film companies such as his OST Sweet Night on the series Itaewon class.

It's the same with Suga and IU, his Agust D mixtapes which draws in audiences that are not necessarily into boybands, RM's Mono whixh attracts strong hiphop fans, Jimin's dance collaborations with Taemin for example and his contemporary dance performance which attracts people in the world of contemporary dance and ballet- point in case the black swan performance at the end of the year, Jin and Hobi's MCing etc.

All these projects exposes them to unique audiences and markets outside of Army or BTS's own fanbase.

And I think the best way to understand how this is important or how this affects BigHit's marketing approach is to look at their recent YouQuiz interviews.

Jimin, Jhope and JK were paired to attract aspiring dancers or persons who want to be dancers and learn from these three dance leaders of BTS- or at least they were paired to appeal to them in my opinion.

Tae and RM were equally paired to appeal to creatives and creative minds and persons who are more into composing and writing lyrics and are full of passion and musical geniuses.

Jin and Suga were paired to appeal to mature audiences.

Ten out of ten when any pair is paired in BTS it is for marketing reasons to appeal to certain fanbase or audiences and are often strategic moves unless of course it's to balance things out to not create the impression they are promoting subunits within the group in furtherance of the BTS kumbaya agenda- Team over units or solos.

So Jikook are not gonna be allowed to sit together all the time even if they want to, neither would JinKook, or Sope.

They shake and reshuffle sometimes.

And like Tae said in his 2018 VLive, the company decides who they collaborate in or what market to promote them in.

Tae was allowed to collaborate with Adora on his Chrismas song but not Jimin- which to me is very homophobic but it goes to show the company has a say in who they work with and most importantly which market they work in.

For JK, he's been working his way within the American marke and building a strong fanbase internationally from his English covers of Justin Bieber, Troye Sivan, to his collaboration with Charlie Puth, and most recently Jason Derulo in Savage love- that's a lot of English speaking fanbase he's attracting and appealing to outside of Army.

Tae's English mixtape would achieve a similar feat and draw in a lot of English speaking fans.

Bts did the same with dynamite and coldplay's Fix you.

So by allowing JK to work with renowned Japanese Artists and film companies, collaborating and composing original sound tracks for them such as his Your eyes tell OST, Film out, etc. he is appealing to and drawing in a Japanese audience.

As Hobi explained in his 2019 January Vlive, their mixtapes, solo projects, collaborations with Artists outside of BTS are all ways for them to expand their fanbase individually and build their portfolio.

And these new fans are mostly going to be solo stans who stan him for his music composing abilities but of course some may fall in love with BTS as well and go on to become Army so it's a win win situation.

WOULDN'T THE OTHERS OBJECT

Yes and no.

As long as the company isn't pushing him as a soloist outside of BTS and creating a separate brand with him outside of BTS's own brand I don't think the boys would object to it.

That was the problem they had/have with Jikook. In my opinion.

The company branding Jikook, distinctifying them from the group as a 'couple' subunit, selling their chemistry to fans and advertisers really doesn't and didn't sit well with the group. AT ALL.

In my opinion of course.

You can't create a brand within a brand.

It goes against Bang PD's own objective of prioritizing the team over all else which is what sold the members in the first place.

I just think in JK's case, since 2020, they are just trying to help him find himself and his bearing and his purpose.

He's been trying to find himself since 2020 and he'd talked about losing his passion and had had his passion hijacked and commercialized by the company.

He used to say he didn't know what he was going to do with himself and his life and career after BTS- having him work on music videos, directing, composing, reading these are all ways that they are doing right by him if you ask me.

They are helping him not trying to push their own agendas- which is not to say they might not change their minds about it in the future.

JK is an artist being managed by the company and they owe a duty to him to make the right business decisions for him with his consent- can't stress on the consent bit enough.

Personally, I'm happy about Japan because they are and are shaping out to be queer friendly and have a bit of progressive laws and conducive environments for queer artists to flourish in- if coming out would ruin their careers that's one less worry.

Which by the way I hate anyone who peddles this 'coming out will ruin their careers' nonsense because I can tell you one hundred percent that that is rooted in homophobia and it's not OK.

Don't tell that to no queer people shut up. You are not helping.

I know some say that out of genuine concerns for the boys but PLEASE DON'T. Don't use fear to keep queer people hidden and out of sight. Don't promote closet safety. Rhetorics like that only perpetuate queer invisibility and homophobia- do I need to spell it out to your liberal homophobic ass?!

Coming out is entirely up to them regardless of the risk you think is involved. If they want to take it. They'll take it. It's their choice to make regardless of whatever consequence.

That there are or should be consequences is a problem in of itself.

I don't want to hear 'if JK comes out he's been stupid and reckless and putting Jimin's career at risk'

'If he loves Jimin he wouldn't come out'

Go ahead kiss it😌

If he wants to stay closested respect it. If he wants to come out RESPECT IT TOO.

Support him either ways goddammit!

Y'all gone get me bothered like that huh.

JK POTENTIALLY WITHOUT JIMIN

They both have different career objectives.

I know Jimin says JK is imitating him but chilee JK is his own person. Lol.

Jimin plays too much.

He has his own aspirations.

In 2014 Jimin posted this Christmas song he did with JK. In 2020 he posted his own Christmas song without Jk.

It's not hard to see where his interests in music lie as a musician.

JK covered We don't talk anymore by himself and later did a collaboration with Jimin on the same song. He's done Fools with RM- see where I'm going with this?

Suga said he was more likely to write pop songs for JK but write dance songs for Jimin.

Jk said in the Be interviews bang PD advised him to consider dance performances when writing songs as he himself is a dancer too and need to incorporate in his compositions.

They are two distinct artists and at some point it would become necessary to brand, promote and encourage their uniqueness in their professional lives. They don't got to be tethered to each other all the time.

Personally, I don't think BigHit would want to push official subunits within BTS- yet and it's inclination towards Jikook have always been because of their marketing appeal rather than to further a career objective for both of them.

This goes back to the pairing objectives I talked about earlier. If they are going to pair Jikook professionally as an official subunit within the group it wouldn't be because they are a couple and ought to be together all the time but because it is smart for them to do so business wise.

If their pairing isn't commercially profitable they won't be paired at all- unless of course Jikook themselves want and request to be paired in that way. Know what I mean?

They each signed separate contracts with the company from day dot. They didn't sign on as a unit.

Whether or not they've decided they are a package deal I cannot say- yet, as their new contract just came into effect.

We would have to observe how they are being handled by the company going forward.

HE'D NEVER DO IT WOULD HE

Come now sis...

It's not like he's leaving Jimin😅

Jimin and Jhope were equally sent to Japan for promotion purposes without JK.

Out of all seven, Namjoon is the most promoted member in the international Market not just because he speaks English but because he is often made the spokes person for the group in interviews, at awards straight up to the UN.

Look how happy they all were and how chatty they were at the KBS Let's BTS interview.

I mean they all talked about it. About how they can't say much on foreign forums and often step into Namjoon's shadows.

RM is the most recognized and dare I say the most liked member out of all seven in the international market outside Army and their music profession.

In Japan they all have a chance to be front and center at interviews etc.

It just so happens that JK as it stands is the one member pushing to build a portfolio within that market.

Let's pray he gets mainstream and build a strong presence within the music industry there because we all know he's gonna drag Jimin up there with him😏

Just pay attention to the songs he's written and the parts Jimin sings in them- he makes Jimin shine on those songs.

They have so much potential my God.

Let's support them individually and as a unit.

I purple you and sorry I had to respond here.

Stay gold. Let's keep supporting and rooting for our guys.

Signed,

GOLDY

[sup3rsexy-ax0lotl]

I've recently started watching mlp again (despite being in my mid teens) and I swear I am going to wife up Applejack. It is my life goal.

♡ 18+ fanfic

♡ Will include smut if I feel like it y'all be patient

♡ A lot of cheesy romance ahead, you've been warned 🧍🧍

♡ This is a wlw fanfic so men go away 😌💞

♡ Mild blood warning but not too bad it's a little tiny cut

~ Apple of my Eye ~

You'd grown familiar with the people of Ponyville, though you were very much closer to some than others, but despite that everyone loved seeing you around the town. Your closest friends were the "Main Six" of Ponyville: Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Applejack (your best friend from the whole group).

You and Applejack had grown a bond unlike any of the rest of the people in the Ponyville. She made you feel special and always made sure you were comfortable and happy with your work. Even on her busy days tending to her farm she would spare a minute to talk to you. Of course if she ever needed help you would drop everything immediately to aid her in anything she needed; be it apple picking or repainting the barn.

As your friendship grew with Applejack, however, you couldn't help but notice a heaviness in your chest whenever the two of you were apart. But it would feel even heavier when you were together.

At first, it left you confused, but as it started to interfere with your work, you grew frustrated. Why wouldn't this feeling ever go away? Why couldn't you go a day without thinking about Applejack? It just didn't make sense to you.

Having had enough of this feeling, you consulted with the rest of your friends about your heavy heart only to be met with the four of them smiling between each other.

"Darling," Rarity spoke up, "it seems to us that you may have a certain... fondness for dear Applejack. Perhaps one that friends wouldn't normally have?"

You blinked.

What?

"What Rarity is trying to say," Twilight spoke out, smiling at you, "is that it's clear you like Applejack as more than a friend,"

Then it hit you.

You liked Applejack.

How had you not figured that out sooner?

Finally seeking out the conclusion you were looking for, you decided to go home, hoping to get the first good night's rest you'd been missing out on for days.

The next morning, you headed straight for Sweet Apple Acres to check if the Apple family needed any help. You noticed Big Mac and Apple Bloom out on the fields tending to some newly sprouted trees, Apple Bloom jumping in excitement while Big Mac kept his usual soft smile.

You leaned against the fence and called out to them, "Hey guys! Is Applejack around?"

"Oh hey Y/N! Yeah she's just over there picking for apples. She could use some help I think,"

Apple Bloom pointed towards some trees further out and you realised you would be alone with Applejack for a while.

You swallowed hard and made your way towards her.

~×~

"Whoo, that is mighty fine work. Thanks a lot for helping me again with the pickin' sugar cube," Apple said with a slight pant to her voice as she rested a hand on your shoulder. The two of you had managed to fill two barrels with vibrant red and green apples.

"You're welcome, Apple Pie," You smiled at her, but brushed her hand off of you to pick up one of the barrels.

"How many times have I told ya not to call me that?" She questioned, but laughed as she did so, picking up the other barrel. You laughed with her but gave no response, feeling no need to. Anyways, you liked hearing her laugh.

"Oh, would you look at those beauties," Granny Smith remarked as you placed your barrel down on the kitchen floor. "You strong girlies need a rest. I'll get you both some Apple cider, how's that sound?"

She was already pushing the two of you out of the room before either of you could object, so you both shrugged at each other and sat down on the porch, watching the sky turn pink. 

Applejack sighed as she took off her hat to lean against the wall, her eyes closed, a peaceful expression on her face. You opened your mouth to speak but decided against it and kept quiet, letting her rest. Noticing Apple Bloom and Big Mac still out on the fields, you smiled and thought about how happy you might be if you were part of the Apple family. They always seem to have fun; even on busy days.

"What's wrong sweety?" Applejack interrupted your thoughts and you noticed a frown had made its way onto your face.  You looked up to meet her eyes, their green hue glowing in the golden light of the sunset, and you sighed.

"I-"

"Here you go dearies, some nice cold cider," Granny Smith's voice cut in as she carefully carried the cider out onto the porch on shaky legs.

"Oh, let me take that from ya Granny." Applejack took the two drinks from Granny Smith's hands and smiled as she passed yours to you. You took it with a quiet "thank you."

"Now, what were you goin' to say there, sugar?" Applejack inquired, but you just responded by saying you remembered you had some work to do before the week ended. She offered to help you but you kindly declined, your mind racing at the thought of her being in such a close proximity to you. You sighed again and sipped on your cider, ignoring Applejack's stare.

~×~

After finishing your drink you said your goodbyes to the Apple family, offering a quick glance at Applejack before leaving. You were headed back to your home in the town, deep in thought when the shrill screech of a voice hit your ears.

"Y/N!!"

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned to the voice that had scared you, recognising it as your friend Pinkie Pie. "Oh, hey Pinkie," You smiled at your excited friend, though admittedly it was forced.

"You look sad, Y/N. What happened?" She asked, concern clear in her voice. Before you could answer, she gasped and came to her own conclusion.

"DID YOU TRY TALKING TO APPLEJACK!?" You slapped your hand over her mouth and shushed her, pulling her behind a building. "Yes but shut up I don't need everyone in Ponyville knowing I like Apple, okay?" You practically begged, and she nodded, even going as far as to Pinkie promise not to tell anyone.

"Maybe, try telling her tomorrow?" She inquired and you nodded, but you felt your stomach twist into a knot.

~x~

As soon as the sun was shining through your window you stumbled out of bed and made the dreaded journey to Sweet Apple Acres. You decided doing what Pinkie insisted would be better for you in the long run, not wanting to have her hovering over your shoulder every hour of every day.

The walk was slow due to hesitation filling your body and the fear of confessing making your blood run cold. This feeling was unfamiliar to you; you'd never liked anyone this much before. And the thought of losing Applejack's friendship was even scarier.

"No. I can't think about that," You whispered to yourself, clenching your fists and continuing the journey on steady feet.

~×~

"Heya darlin'," Applejack called out from the porch as she noticed you walking up the path, "You're startin' to spoil me with all this help you're givin'," She joked with a wink, making your heart stop. Letting out a nervous laugh, you rubbed your shoulder and looked her in the eye. They were sparkling again in the warm light of the sunrise, and you felt your stomach twist tighter as you fell for her even harder.

"Well anyways, everyone's out working on the fields today, so that leaves us baking apple pies. That okay with you, Sugar?" Applejack informed and you nodded, smiling slightly.

You'd be working alone with Applejack.

Upon entering the kitchen, Applejack assigned you the role of apple preparation while she made the dough. She carefully passed you a knife to cut the apples after washing them and you began chopping. A peaceful silence washed over the two of you as you concentrated on your tasks, but of course, Pinkie's words sat at the back of your mind.

"Try telling her," echoed through your thoughts and you clenched the knife a little harder.

Just try making conversation first.

"So, how come we're making pies?"

"We're runnin' low on baked goods so Granny told me to start makin' some more. That, and, we make a pretty good team," She beamed at you and you felt the blood rising to your cheeks so you quickly looked back down to continue chopping.

"Yeah, I suppose we do..."

"Honey, you seem a little down. What's wrong, Sweety?"

You felt panic shoot through you and started to shake. 'Be honest,' was the next thing. You continued cutting with a shaking hand. 'No, if I was honest now I'd ruin everything,' you thought, so deep in your own doubts you were no longer paying attention to how you were cutting.

You felt the blade come down on your finger and you hissed, pulling away and clenching your hand tight.

"Fucking shit," You cursed in a panic.

Applejack looked over to you with wide eyes.

"Y/N!" She rushed over to you and took your hand, holding it over the sink as she ran cold water over your bleeding finger. She left you for a minute to grab a clean cloth and a bandaid and returned to you with a furrowed brow.

"That was stupid. What the hell is goin' on with you, sugar cube?"

You looked down at her hand holding yours, your cut freshly cleaned and covered. A hand met your cheek and you looked back up at Applejack, her face now more concerned than angry.

"You've been awful distracted lately, what's on your mind?"

Her hand left your cheek to rest on your shoulder, a sad smile growing on her face. You couldn't help but feel like this was going to be the end of a wonderful friendship - just the thought of Applejack avoiding you made you feel sick.

You sighed.

'Now or never.'

"Applejack I... I like you. A lot. As more than a friend."

...

Silence filled the room.

You started to panic.

"Fuck I messed up," You thought to yourself.

But just as you were about to pull your hand away, her grip tightend, and you looked up to see a smiling Applejack with a pink tint resting on her cheeks.

"Sweety, was that all?" She laughed softly.

"You're not uncomfortable or upset?"

"Upset? Hun, why would I be upset? I've been racking my brain trying to think of ways to tell you I... I like you too."

"I like you too."

Those words echoed in your mind and you felt your body finally relax for the first time in weeks.

"You like me too?" You spoke in awe, smiling as a wave of relief washed over you.

A soft pair of lips to your forehead were conformation enough for you and sighed a contented sigh, looking Applejack in eye.

"I do," She whispered as she leaned in closer to you until you felt her lips fall against yours. The kiss was sweet and you both very easily found a rhythm that felt natural, as if you'd already kissed a thousand times before.

Her lips were soft, and you could taste the fainted taste of apples on your tongue.

Her hand caressed your cheek, down your jaw and rested on your collar bone as she pulled away, leaving you breathless.

"Now," Applejack started, "since we've got all that mushy shit outta the way, how about we get back to bakin'," She gestured at the mess on the kitchen counter and you laughed, nodding your head.

"This time, I'll do the choppin'."

[indefinitely-in-fandom-hell]

It’s Gaara Week! - just kidding, Gaara Week is in January - this is Gaara Weekly. So I heard the topic this time is:

“what Gaara would do together with Shinki if he had some time off” 

now that’s just wholesome, how could I not at least *attempt to* provide some headcanons?

*side note: I have no idea how I ended up with this mess of a post but here you go*

So we know their hobbies: Gaara likes “battling” according to the second databook and by the time the third came around, he added “cultivating cacti” to the mix. Shinki likes both “gardening” and “embroidery” according to character trivia from Boruto. Makes sense that they would bond over tending to plants right? In fact, most would probably assume that Shinki adopted this hobby from his father. And while I do believe they get some rare father-son time tending to Gaara's cacti together - I don't know if that's what they would actually choose to do if they had a significant amount of free time.

If I was being realistic: They would probably spend their days off training.

_________________________ Yeah I hear you people in the back screaming “booo” - but this seems to be the most realistic scenario - to me at least. So let me explain:

His people and village always seem to be the priority for Gaara and Shinki is the future of Suna, not only as the Kazekage's heir but simply as part of the next generation who will take on leadership positions after the current decision-makers retire. There is not a single doubt in my mind that Gaara views mentoring future generations as one of his top priorities. Shinki wants to make his father proud and properly represent his family and village. He is hugely appreciative of any training time his busy father can spare for him - such an opportunity doesn't come every day. Both of them have very no-nonsense, goal-oriented personalities.

- So if Gaara had a couple of hours to spend however he wanted, he would invest them in the future of his village: Shinki. If Shinki had the chance to get some in-depth one-on-one training with his father, he would jump at the opportunity.

We know that Gaara, unlike Naruto with his son, has at least somewhat regularly been training Shinki in person. He has mentioned how he taught his son 'everything he knows' and Shinki actually training directly with his (very busy) father just makes sense: The two of them are the only people we know of with their kekkei genkai - and Gaara is the only one with abilities almost identical to Shinki's. It’s true that Gaara only knows the basics when it comes to iron sand - or rather, that was confirmed to be the case until at least the early blank period. But he would know next to every use of regular sand and that’s still more than any other jonin in suna. Of course, as the Kazekage, Gaara simply doesn't have the time to do the majority of Shinki's training - but I wouldn’t question that he's the one giving the crucial advice, reviewing his training progress and telling his son what abilities need more work.  

So if he has a little bit of time to spare - I have no doubt he would (and does) put most of it into training Shinki. And that includes days off. 

_________________________

.

.

.

But y'all didn't come for that - don't lie.

*enter Part 2: “But what if we talk about cats instead?”

We love these two (and the entire Sand-family for that matter) so naturally, we want to see them use their time off for anything BUT work or training. Gaara and Shinki are definitely the worst offenders here, they always seem like those people who would rather work on their duties than cut cake on their birthdays - Gaara more so because he seems very focused on always putting his own pleasure behind doing 'something useful to others' and Shinki because he's just beginning to realize the value of friendship. *Insert mlp meme here*

So for the sake of fun, we will just assume SOMETIMES Gaara decides that his son should do “normal activities” instead of training and ends up going somewhere with him. But where? If for some reason, Shinki were to accompany his father to another village for a diplomatic meeting, I think they would definitely walk around that village a bit and just take in the local culture: food, sights, and the like. Imagine the way Lee and Tenten showed Gaara and Kankuro around Konoha in episode 497 and had them try ramen for the first time - kind of like that. But this example also shows just how rarely Gaara seems to get time off during official visits: it took him being Kazekage for 4 years until he ate his first Ramen - but ok, if the war hadn’t been in the way I guess Naruto would have made him try it sooner. Now, if we are talking about “regular” time off, the place would definitely need to be in Suna - Gaara is important for the protection of his village so he can’t just leave whenever he wants.

I’m also going to assume that Gaara can walk around relatively freely without being bothered by crowds - if simply for the fact that we have seen him do so before, at least in other villages. Gaara strikes me as a character who could very much enjoy new experiences - there was once a time when most things “normal” people did were foreign to him and he had to go through a very steep learning curve after his first encounter with Naruto. I can see him trying new things when he gets the chance and also wanting to encourage Shinki to do the same - so long something falls not too far outside both of their comfort zones.

.

We established all the little details but no one has gone anywhere yet. So if we are going for something interesting: > how about we bring cats into this?

Gaara and Shinki strike me as having a lot of, for the lack of a better word, “cat-people energy” - were they aware of this before this fateful day? Probably not. Were they aware of it afterward? - you bet!

Gaara felt a bit confused when he heard that Suna would be hosting a big pet show for the first time in a few years *he had to sign the paperwork after all* - what was that again? People bring their cats and dogs to show them to visitors and a jury?

“Must be another unique way humans manage to be vain about their property” - the concept of placing much importance in the things one owns and how they reflect on you was something Gaara understood as a concept but never fancied.

He didn’t understand very well why visitors would want to see such a spectacle until Kankuro said something along the lines of “sometimes people just want to see animals do cute stuff I guess? You know how girls and kids are - show them a dog rolling over and they will go crazy - don’t worry too much about it, I’m also not much of a fan.”

On a second thought: “Oh but maybe Shinki likes that stuff? I mean he’s a kid - ..... although he doesn’t behave like one most of the time.”

- and with that comment, the deal was settled: there would be father-son bonding time scheduled and they would go observe cute animals!!

Shinki wasn’t very thrilled but what can you do - he wanted to train but was too well behaved and respected his father too much to object any of his decisions - no matter how strange some of them sounded.

In the end, none of them had high expectations for this trip but they went anyway because “At worst we have made a valuable experience” - Gaara

*Shinki didn’t dare question what could be “valuable” about this*

As it turned out, the date they picked for their visit was designated for cats of all breeds --

Of course, both Gaara and Shinki had seen cats before - from afar. No one in their family owned any animals - if you didn’t factor in the deer raised on the property of the Nara-clan.

But they had also HEARD about cats before

--------- mostly because Shukaku never seemed to miss an opportunity to insult them: “cats are the most useless creatures, it goes to show how stupid humans are for domesticating them” - “and you are sure you aren’t just saying this because kids always seem to mistake you for one?” -Kankuro would add

*Needless to say: Kankuro still enjoyed provoking people he really shouldn’t.* -------------

Well now the two shinobi were in front of one - their first close encounter with a feline - a big sand-colored persian with her owner, a friendly-looking old lady, standing next to her.

“Well I suppose they are quite endearing with their big eyes” -Gaara noted

Old lady: “Oh dear would you like to come closer? She really enjoys being pet behind her ears - she’s even calm with most strangers”

Gaara was a bit hesitant

When you’ve only ever heard bad things about cats and their temper you might think twice about petting them when you get the chance - at least until you take the courage to hold out your hand and they start purring like you are their best friend and they will love you forever.

Now, if anything gets Gaara - it’s being shown unconditional love and acceptance in unexpected places

yes apparently this does not exclude kitties

*holding out his hand while the cat is purring and meowing* Gaara : O.O Shinki, next to him: O.O Both of them internally: "ohhhh so THAT'S what all the fuss is about"

- Instant non-verbal agreement that cats are awesome

After that encounter, both might or might not have been extremely tempted to adopt a cat.

But since Gaara knew no one in this family had much time to spend at home - *and because he had this lingering sense that the cat might develop a taste for his succulents* - he had to resist.

This however wouldn’t mean that their next “family day” wasn’t already planned to be a trip to the local animal shelter. _________________________ Bonus:

eventually, Shukaku finds out about their trips and is NOT amused that they considered bringing one of “those things” home.

Yes- he’s still fuming from that one time he was carried by Shinki in his more “compact” form and a toddler pointed at them saying “oh your cat is so chubby! can I pet it? Pleeeeese!!” (*needless to say both Shinki and Gaara were mortified back then and hurried to get Shukaku away from the little girl before any casualties were to occur*)

He continues to sulk for at least a full month about this “betrayal”.

[somepinkthing]

Are people really out there saying claude and dimitri are wrong for not letting themselves be invaded by the empire? "They're the ones dragging out the war" sjfhskkj. Yes, I do imagine that most wars would end faster if the other side would simply give it up without a fight and let themselves be taken over. That's not incorrect. But that's generally not how it works, you know that right? People generally resist takeovers from a foreign power, regardless of what their goals are?

It's especially weird when directed towards claude? Who declared neutrality for five years?! The kingdom at least was actively at war with the empire, but claude would have kept his people out of it—did keep them out of it. If anything, my criticism would be that it's stupid to hold out for that long without fighting back. A massive armed force is already taking out your neighbor and standing at your borders, you must know you're next. Are you just gonna wait until there are no allies left? And criticism is tempered with the knowledge that it might've been all he could do to keep the alliance from civil war. Even with the argument that claude could understand edelgard's views and backed down in the end anyways, that's when he had no fight left?! If it's either peace or senseless death with no hope of victory, then ofc choose peace! But you're saying he should have just been like well that sounds ok... here's my country. Without even trying to resist?

And it'd be one thing if edelgard had the support of the general public within the kingdom or the alliance and would win a popular vote. Then I'd say that they should listen to their people and give it up. But, from what I saw, that's generally not the case. She had support from the lords we established to be the skeeviest ones in their respective countries. Which makes sense! We get to uncover her background and reasons but to the common folk? Farmers and merchants and villagers? This is a military takeover at best and a persecution of their faith at worst. And even if it doesn't look like either of those, it still means war. It still means costing them their resources and, possibly, their lives. Why would they support it? And, in turn, why wouldn't their leaders try to stop that from happening?

The funniest part is that edelgard literally warned you about this! From the very beginning she accepted that her actions could only result in war. Even banked on it! Somehow y'all took that to mean she thinks dimitri and claude are terrible people instead of her acknowledgement that, if she marches her army into other people's borders, they miiight get upset. I'm not saying that "if you're going to surrender anyways, why bother resisting me at all" scene didn't exist. It did! Ironically, edelgard definitely does slide dangerously into the idea that others ought to just bow down to the superior force,,, but at least she's not deluded herself into believing that's realistic, even if her reasoning is flawed. Because it isn't! For incredibly obvious reasons! So. How the hell did we come to this conclusion? That people can actually be bad and wrong for not immediately submitting to sexy, sexy military incursion???

[yee-fxcking-haw]

What Happens Next?

A/N: Here’s part four y'all! Please please tell me what you think. I’ve been very excited for the reactions to this chapter! A million thank yous to anybody who has been reading, asked to be tagged, commented, liked, reblogged, any of it. Thank you so so so much!!

Summary: We finally find out what the hell Bucky did.

Warnings: The big angst. Language.

Part one | Part two | Part three

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Part Four

At The Dance Hall.

You take one deep breath before turning around to face him again. He’s still sitting on the curb, posture crumbled and pathetic.

“I’ll catch a ride home with Shelly, take your time and call me when you’re home” Molly says, you turn to argue but she’s already walking back to the building. You want to call after her but you honestly don’t have the energy. Molly can take care of herself, you don’t have to worry about her making it home ok.

You walk over to James quietly, your heart is already racing and you feel your stomach twisting into knots.

“James?” You say with a small voice.

He jumps a little but keeps his head down, he wipes his eyes quickly like that will somehow keep the fact that he’s crying a secret. He jumps to his feet and straightens out the blue dress shirt he’s wearing. Of course he’s wearing blue, it wouldn’t make sense for him to wear something that doesn’t make his eyes stand out. Why would the universe do you a favor and have him wear something that doesn’t accentuate your biggest weakness? The universe apparently hates you, that’s why.

“I’m ready to talk.” You say, steadying yourself slightly.

His eyebrows raise and you see a glimmer of hope flash across his face. Even after crying and being punched in the jaw, he’s beautiful. The puffy lips and red cheeks honestly only make him prettier. Fuck him for that.

“-but I have rules.” You continue. You don’t have any rules, but you want to make it sound like you mean business. His face falls back into a slightly more anxious look.

“We’re going to Annie’s, you’re buying me dinner, and we’re driving separately.” You say, making them up as you go. He owes you dinner at the very least, considering how much he took from you. Annie’s is a little diner down the road. It’s usually busy enough to have a private conversation without being overheard, and you hope by keeping it in public you’ll feel compelled to not cause another scene.

He nods carefully, “I uh- I don’t have the bike. I got a ride with a friend.”

“Get in the damn truck then.” You say, turning on your heels. You don’t want to give yourself any time to rethink this. The only goal you have is to get this done as quickly as possible without putting your heart on the line again. He scurries after you, not saying a word. You swing open the door with a huff and jump into the driver’s seat. He quietly slides into the passenger seat like the truck is made of glass.

“Do you want me to drive?” He asks softly.

Your face immediately pinches into a disgusted look. You slowly turn to him, sticking the key in the ignition as you do. You sit there for a second, staring daggers at him, daring him to ask some other dumb ass question. His eyes shoot to the floor and he buckles his seat belt to make himself look busy.

“Sorry. Stupid question.” He mutters, shaking his head a little.

You don’t answer him, you can’t without yelling again. You know James doesn’t mean anything overtly sexist by offering to drive, he’s just trying to be a gentleman. He also doesn’t know about the truck being your father’s, so you keep your mouth shut. However, he knows that if you can do something, there’s no way in hell you’re going to let a man do it for you, so he should have known better than to ask. You roughly shift the gear and whip out of the parking spot. You see James turn to you out of the side of your eye, you shift to drive with the same harshness and nearly peel out of the parking lot. You hear him try to choke down a laugh. Irritation rises in your gut and you take a sharp breath in.

“What?” You snap. Whipping your head to look at him, you quickly realize the mistake in doing so. He’s got that gorgeous smile on his face, even with a welt on his jaw, he’s absolutely stunning. That bastard.

“Nothin’… Sorry.” He says quickly, pulling his smile back down to a straight line.

Sickening regret fills your gut, you’re supposed to be making him smile, not making him feel guilty for doing so. You remind yourself of why things are this way now, it’s not your regret to feel, it’s all on him. You find your way to the diner easily, it’s really just a streat and a right turn away. You pull into the diner, the parking lot relatively empty. The lights on the sign make your heart ache, your dad used to take you and your mom here for breakfast once a month. You adored coming here with them, making the diner an extremely special place for you. Is it a good idea to give James the ability to tie a negative memory to it? For a split second you consider changing locations, but you’re combated by how truly exhausted you are with running from this conversation.

“Let’s fucking get this over with.” You throw your seatbelt off and swing your door open. Your stupid dress gets caught on the seat on your way out and you fall flat on your ass. Your tail bone aches and you’ve definitely scraped your elbow. You sit up on the ground and brush your hair out of your face. James comes around the front of the truck quickly, obviously concerned about your dramatic fall. He doesn’t look concerned though, his lips are pulled into his mouth and his eyebrows are pinched together like he’s trying his darndest not to laugh. Despite everything, the confusion, the hurt feelings and the anger. You just can’t help it, watching James try so hard to keep it together tickles you. A laugh bubbles out of you, trying to kill it by covering your mouth. Then James finally cracks and it’s all over. You squeeze your eyes shut and it sputters out of you, your hand falls to join your other around your stomach.

You throw your head back and let yourself laugh as hard as you can, James lets his deep laugh mix with yours. You have to be drawing attention, but oh fucking well, you two should be used to it by now.

“First day with the new feet?” He jokes. You place your hands on the ground beside you and look up at him, trying to give him your best bitch face. It doesn’t last a second, he’s still giggling like he’s in grade school and it’s contagious. You fall back onto the pavement, letting the laughter take over your body. What the hell is wrong with you? Has it just been too long since you’ve laughed like this? Is your body just making up for lost time?

“She’s fine, I promise, just got tickled is all.” You hear James say and you don’t bother to look up. You don’t want to face the poor strangers that have just spotted some loon laying on her back in the parking lot while she’s laughing hysterically.

You hear him shift so he can sit down next to you, still laughing as he does so. You let your eyes open and take a deep breath in, using your hands to still your stomach, praying you can compose yourself even a little bit. You sit up and sigh, giggles still pouring out of you slowly. You lose yourself in the laughter and let your head fall to his shoulder.

“You ready for that dinner I owe you?” He asks with a teasing voice, “-or do I need to call the paddy wagon for you?”

You both let yourselves laugh again, the feeling so familiar and safe. Just then, as you’re both settling down from your laughter, your heart is absolutely crushed by a ton of bricks. You feel your face crumple, your throat tighten and your chest start to ache. You could have had this all along. You could have had this at prom, and every day after. Nauseating paranoia creeps into you. It’s so easy to get lost in him again, so easy to forget that he’s the asshole that ruined highschool for you.

Tears threaten to fall now, your heart aches at the thought of all the time lost between you and this boy you were once falling in love with.

“Why’d you have to ruin this?” You ask with a broken voice, tears making hot trails down your cheeks.

He takes in a slow, shaking breath.

“I’ve hated myself for it every day since.” He nearly whispers.

You don’t answer, just wipe your tears and cross your arms over yourself.

“There hasn’t been anyone else. I don’t think there ever will be.” You can’t help but look at him after he says those words.

His bright eyes burn into you, you want to trust him. You even feel yourself doing it for a second. You can’t, not again… right? He can’t have the chance to hurt you again, but dammit you want to throw your arms around him and kiss him like you did on the rooftop. You look back at the ground and hold on tight to yourself, wishing you could squeeze yourself out of existence.

“What the hell happened James?” You ask, tears falling again.

Prom

You had snuck into the house very late last night, your mom fast asleep, she was gone for work by the time you woke up this morning. At least you were able to avoid her being nosey about your whereabouts. You’re driving yourself to Prom, much to James’ dismay. He argued when you first proposed the idea, but quickly understood that riding on a motorcycle in a dress was not reasonable. You plan to bring a change of clothes with you for any after prom activities. Though, you don’t know if you’ll even make it to Prom in the first place at this rate. You huff around your room, throwing clothes everywhere, searching desperately for your one good dress.

Shit, fucking shit. Everything has gone to shit. Molly isn’t coming with your dress. As soon as you got home last night you called and told her everything about yesterday, absolutely thrilled to share the events of the day with your best friend. She promised to bring you a blue dress to wear to match James’ eyes, but Molly just called to tell you that she lost track of time and can’t bring you the dress. So what the hell are you supposed to do? Of course she lost track of time, why would she fucking be here for you? Your anger at Molly is growing exponentially the longer you go without finding your dress. How could she? How could she be so self centered after she promised to be here? The only dress you have is a gingham one that your mom picked out for you at Macy’s. It’s a simple black and white checkered pattern, not flashy at all, but neither are you. Tonight is supposed to be special though, tonight you’re supposed to feel pretty. You try to convince yourself that it’s your fault for being so last minute, that Molly isn’t really to blame. The last thing you need is to show up all flustered and pissed off. James deserves better than that.

Your heart stills for a moment at the thought of him. That’s what this is about, once you get there and see him, once you laugh with him, it’ll all be ok. The dress won’t matter, Molly flaking on you won’t matter, the only thing that will matter is you and him. Your shoulders fall slightly, tension oozing out of you.

“Ok.” You sigh out loud to yourself.

Then you see it, the damn dress. The corner of it is peaking out of your dresser. You dive for it like it’s capable of running away from you. You snatch it out of the drawer and shake it out. Shit. It’s so damn wrinkly. Your mom has an ironing board somewhere, but you don’t have fucking time. God, why did you wait so long to start getting ready. You’re bad at this stuff, that’s why. Twenty minutes left, you’re supposed to be there at six. You can do it. You throw the dress on, then face yourself in the mirror. The pinched waist of the dress really is flattering, and gingham suits you quite nicely honestly, offering you slight relief.

Your hair and makeup, shit. Brush your hair, mascara, lipstick. That’s it right? Molly told you one time that there’s three critical pieces to looking put together, you’re certain it’s those three. Your mom has to have the mascara and the lipstick, you at least have a hair brush. You hike up your dress and sprint to your mom’s room. You do your very best to put on the mascara and the lipstick, mostly just dabbing it on your lips to give you a little color like Molly taught you. It really does make a big difference, it’s obviously not really prom worthy, but again, it’s not your thing. You give yourself a shrug that says “good enough” and run back to your room.

Shoes. Oh shit. The only clean pair of shoes you have are a pair of cowboy boots that you’ve been saving for a special occasion. They’re not really a step up from your regular boots, but at least they’re clean. That has to count for something. You snatch them from the closet and stick your feet in them roughly. You flatten your skirt, pull your hair over your shoulders and stand in front of the mirror once again. The dress and the boots actually don’t look too bad, and the light makeup goes well with the look. You’re certain Molly would be throwing the fit of the century but that’s too damn bad. You could be wearing a real prom dress that matches your date’s eyes, but somebody got busy.

You did it, sort of. You’re not in overalls, you have makeup on, and you’re actually on schedule. The nerves eat up your insides slowly, wondering if James will think you look alright. You find comfort in his words from last night. You’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen, and that was when you were wearing men’s clothes. That’s what he wants, something different. You’re jolted out of your daydream by the sound of a car door shutting. Shit. It’s your mom.

You quickly grab your keys, doing a hastey double check in the mirror before tearing into the kitchen and out the front door. It’s already getting dark, which makes you feel like you’re more behind on time than you actually are. Your mom is getting out of her car and her jaw drops as soon as she sees you.

“What in the hell is going on?” She asks, absolutely shocked by your appearance.

“Don’t have time to explain! Going to prom!” You holler back at her.

“Will Molly be there!?”

“Yeah I’ll be home eventually!” You hop into the truck, starting her up immediately, taking a deep breath. A pang of sorrow hits you as soon as you hear the engine rumble. Your dad should be here, telling you that no guys deserves a dance with you, telling you to be home by ten, to be safe, that he loves you.

“Have fun baby!” She shouts, confusion laced in her voice.

You swallow the tears to smile and wave at her. He wouldn’t want you sad tonight, and something tells you he would like James a lot. You cling to that thought as you pull out of the driveway. For your mother’s sake you don’t start speeding until you’re around the corner, but once you’re there you floor it. James told you to meet him right out front, which should be easy enough. He’s always easy to spot and you’ll probably be one of the last people there so it won’t be too packed outside.

Now that you’re in the truck by yourself you have time to really grasp what you’re about to do. You’re going to prom, this is about as likely as Molly going hunting. Like always, the nerves start raging inside you. Every bone in your body is begging you to turn around and go home, but you push it down. You can’t keep living like that, you have to be able to come out of hiding at some point. If anybody is going to help you through it, it’s James.

Your mind wanders back to last night when he dropped you off. Your goodbye had been long and dreadfully romantic. You had kept your arms around his neck for as long as you could, you had kissed goodnight several times before actually tearing yourselves away from each other. He had walked his bike to the end of the street to start it to avoid waking your mom up. Before he did so, he placed one last kiss on your forehead and told you that he’d be dreaming about you.

Incredible would be an understatement for the way he makes you feel. You can tell he’s changing the way you think, he’s slowly chipping at your walls after just one afternoon. It’s terrifying, but you want him to do it. You want to feel alive like you did yesterday, you want to cling to him and the way he makes you feel.

Soon you’re turning into the school parking lot. All the pastel dresses and hand-me-down suits crowding the door, filing into the gym so they can enjoy the pinnicale of their highschool careers. You can’t help but roll your eyes at all the girls hanging all over their dates. You scan the groups of people for Molly or James, you feel your stomach tighten with anxiety. Big groups of people aren’t your thing, especially when they’re all so well dressed.

The front door, he said to meet him at the front door. You drive around to the front of the gym and park your truck. You run your hands over the wheel nervously and bite your lip. They’re just people, they won’t notice you. Once you get to James it will all be fine. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, swallowing your fear to open the truck door and hop out. You walk towards the door with your head down, occasionally glancing up to try to find James. You can’t see him by the front door so you start to panic a little.

Then you hear it, his laugh. That deep, wonderful sound echoing behind you. Relief floods your body, your shoulders drop and you turn your head to find him. When you see him you swear you could faint. He’s so damn handsome, now in a dark blue suit with a matching tie, sharp looking white dress shirt underneath. His hair is slicked back perfectly and his smile is as bright as the sun. He’s walking with two other guys, neither of them Steve. You should have known Steve wouldn’t come, if he’s as much like you as you think he is he’s avoiding this event like the plague.

“James!” You try to yell over the people between you two, but your small voice is obviously drowned out because he doesn’t even look.

You open your mouth to say his name again but your voice catches when three other people come up to James and his friends. Three very pretty girls, to be exact. It almost happens in slow motion, one of the girls throws her arms around his neck and gives him a big kiss on the cheek. He keeps smiling the whole time. You feel your heart crumble in your chest, a horrible sick feeling settles in your gut.

She’s stunning, blonde hair and long legs. She’s thin and elegant, make-up so skillfully done it looks like she’s glowing. Her dress is a beautiful light blue… like his eyes. Your stomach flips, you feel like you can’t breathe. He places his arm around her waist as they walk towards the building. She’s his date, it’s obvious. He was never meant to take you, he probably assumed you just wouldn’t show up. Well, here you are, watching the boy that said he’s falling in love with you walk another girl into prom. If there weren’t so many people around, you would be crying.

“Bucky!” You yell again, not even meaning to. Your body is desperate for his attention, you hope by using his nickname he’ll realize it’s you. Your heart aches at the memory of him telling you to call him by his nickname, how he said he liked it when you said it.

His head finally snaps towards you. The look in his eyes only makes you feel worse, he just looks confused. He doesn’t look happy to see you, he does not look at you the way a man should when he’s said he would dream of you. You draw closer to him, anxiously glancing at his friends and his beautiful date. Are you just misunderstanding? Are they just friends? Did he just intend to hide this part from you? What the hell is going on?

“I’m sorry I’m a little late, I couldn’t find a dress in time, this is all I have.” You say, gesturing down at your dress, becoming very embarrassed of your boots.

He just stands there with the same confused look on his face. His friends look just as confused, the three girls turn away to giggle together. Heat rises to your cheeks and you ball your fists as the other two guys turn to join the girls. They awkwardly shuffle away, obviously trying to put space between you and them.

“You’ve got the wrong guy sweetheart.” He says with a cold voice.

Sweetheart?

You study his face, waiting for the laugh, for any sign that this is some horrible joke.

“Wh-what?” You ask, voice breaking.

For a split second you see a flash of sadness in his eyes, so brief you almost miss it. Does he pity you? Was your whole afternoon together just because he felt sorry for you? It couldn’t be. It was all so real. The laughter, the understanding, feeling his skin against yours. Just hours ago you were both lying naked with each other on a rooftop, pressed against each other without any desire to ever part. Where did that electricity go?

“Bucky, what are you doing?” You ask, desperate to understand what’s going on.

“James come on, they’re starting the music and I want to dance.” The gorgeous blonde says over his shoulder, walking around to place her hand on his chest, the other coming up to smooth his hair.

“Are you lost honey?” She asks, looking down her perfect nose at you.

You’re definitely going to be sick.

You shake your head no, stuttering incoherent sounds.

“I just- I thought I was um- I thought I was meeting somebody here.” The words tumble out, your voice small.

“Do you and James know each other?” She asks, voice condescending.

You try to say yes, but James cuts you off.

“No, I don’t think so, she’s just confused.” He says the last part like he’s trying to convince you of it too. He gives you one last confusing look then turns away, placing his hand on his lovely date’s waist.

“Come on, doll.” You hear him say to her.

That’s what does it. Hearing him call her the name you’ve grown to love. That sends you over the edge and pushes the tears out of your eyes. You feel your heart crack and all you want to do is run after him. You want to sob, fall down on the concrete and let yourself cry until your voice is gone. You watch him walk away from you, your place filled by a girl better suited for him. It was all a fucking joke, it had to be. He’s probably going to tell all of his friends about it once they’re inside. How he took the poor little hick girl out to Coney Island, made her think she was special, then played her like a fiddle. Would he tell them you’d slept together?

You want to run to the truck, but the most your body is capable of is a tired walk. Your chest is being eaten alive by a burning heartache. Your head is swimming with confusion and a horrible, painful thought keeps screaming at you. You’re not special, you’re not different, he was just bored. He needed the thrill of having somebody hopelessly want him the way you did last night, somebody he could string along with no resistance. Of course, he can’t be seen at prom with you. A boy like James needs a girl like the one he’s with right now, it’s just the way things are. You are not a girl like that.

You reach the truck, letting all the people around you blow past you in a blur. You climb into the cabin pathetically, slumping into the seat. You close the door and don’t spare any time before letting a sob rattle your chest. How could you be such an idiot? It was always going to end like this. He will always want a girl like her and you won’t ever be one. Even if you brush your hair and put on a dress. That only begs the question, what about yesterday? What about when he kissed you the first time? Both of you bathed in that ethereal evening light, unable to keep your lips off of each other. Before he kissed you he’d said you were the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. What the hell happened?

A knock on the passenger window jolts you out of your pity party.

“Open the door.” It’s Molly.

Silently you reach over and pop the lock. She throws the door open and gets in quickly, slamming it closed behind her.

“What happened?” She asks, trying to keep her voice calm but failing.

You look at her with a loud sniffle, rubbing your eyes with your hands. Your make-up is all melting off with the tears, but it doesn’t matter.

“Well, first my best friend flaked on me after she promised me a blue prom dress. Then, I didn’t have anybody to do my hair and makeup so I did a shit job of course and I had to wear this stupid dress and these hideous boots.” You say, voice breaking. You hadn’t thought so little of your appearance when you left the house, but seeing James’ real date has changed your mind

She starts to talk but you cut her off.

“Oh just wait, it gets so much better. As soon as I got here, I couldn’t find you or James. I found James soon enough though, with some gorgeous girl all over him. She’s got on a perfect blue prom dress and he seemed so thrilled to have somebody like her on his arm. So it was all a joke! It was all a fucking joke Molly. He didn’t mean what he said yesterday. He asked me to prom just so I could show up and be comedic relief for him and his perfect friends! I sure can’t wait for the whole school to catch wind of this.” You finish your rant with another deep sob. Your fist involuntarily flies at the dash, landing with a loud crack.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been with you.” She says gently, probably scared to say anything else.

Your chest tightens, yes she should have, but now is not the time to bring Molly down with you.

“Where’s Eddie?” You ask, inquiring about her date.

“With his friends. He’s not that cute anyway.” She says, brushing it off.

“Molly don’t let me ruin prom for you. Yeah it’s a heartless prank, but I’ll be alright. I’ve seen worse.” You say, wiping more tears.

She sighs deeply and moves her hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You want to slap her hand away, but you welcome the kind gesture reluctantly.

“I’m not going back in there without you, and I know you’re not going back in there, so let’s go get some ice cream and go to my house. My parents are gone for the weekend, so the record player is all ours.” She says, trying desperately to win you over.

You look out at the streetlights that are blurred by your tears. You glance over at Molly, realizing how beautiful she looks. Her dress is a light lavender color and soft brown hair is curled flawlessly. You can’t take this from her, she gets to go to prom.

“No, I’m going to drive you to the door, you’re going to go in and have a good time. I’m going to go home, I want to be with my mom.” You say. You hope playing the mom card will get Molly to stop arguing.

“Is that what you want?” She asks with caution.

“Yes, you’ll regret it if you don’t go in. I know you will.” You sigh, “I’ll be fine, really.”

You shift the truck into drive and slowly bring Molly to the door. You realize how tired you feel, body drained from feeling so much all at once.

“Are you sure about this?” Molly asks.

“Molly please just go. I’ll see you Monday.” You don’t even look at her when you say it. Your eyes are glued to the pavement.

“I’m so sorry…” She barely whispers it, then gets out of the car. You watch her walk away, her chocolate curls bouncing behind her.

You feel somewhat guilty for lying to her, you don’t want to be with your mom, you just want to be alone. You let the tears fall again now that you’re alone. The parking lot is dark and empty now that everyone is inside, having the time of their lives no doubt. Your attention is grabbed by two bodies tumbling out of the gym.

Of fucking course, it’s James and his wonder woman. You sit frozen in place as you watch her cling to him. Sick, festering jealousy fills your stomach making you want to floor it and run them over. You never turned the headlights on so they don’t even notice you sitting in the truck. They walk with their backs turned to you, James has his hands in his pockets and he’s looking down. You hear her let out a high, squeaky laugh. Thank God her laugh sucks.

Then her hands are on his shoulders and you absolutely want to scream at her. Tell her to back off, that he’s yours, but you can’t, because he isn’t. Then her lips are on his. All feeling leaves your body, and all you can do is watch in horror as she kisses him. His hands stay in his pockets but he still kisses her back. He doesn’t look thrilled to be kissing her but he doesn’t exactly push her off of him. Then again, why would he? Something snaps inside you and you and you become entirely fed up with all of this bullshit. You throw the truck in reverse and tear out of the parking lot. They can have their fucking moment, she’ll eventually learn who James really is.

The Following Monday

People ignore you, people sometimes stare at you, they laugh at your boots and your overalls. You evoke those reactions from people, it’s a fact of life. Today though, today it’s like you have leprosy. This is what you need on top of everything else. After the shitshow of prom, you went straight home and stormed upstairs. You promptly cried yourself to sleep, then spent the entirety of Sunday holed up in your room. Your mom had brought you tomato soup for dinner, asked if you wanted to talk, then left you alone when you gave her a short “no”. She doesn’t ever like to pry, she always gives you room to come to her when you’re ready. After your dad passed you both found that to be the easiest way to be there for each other.

You woke up this morning with no motivation to even come to school. James has well and truly broken your heart. All you can do is think about that afternoon. Everything that happened with him felt so natural and easy. Being with him felt so safe. When he kissed you, you felt it in your entire body. You even let him know your entire body. You gave him so much of yourself, you gave him things you’ll never get back. Just to have him pretend he never knew you in front of his pin up girlfriend. It makes your chest ache in a deep and hollow way. You know you can’t go on forever like this, just longing to relive that afternoon. You want nothing more than for him to run up to you, hold you in his arms in front of everyone and tell you how sorry he is. You want him to explain that he was just being stupid, you want him to tell you that he does love you, that you are special. You want to know that he meant every word he said that day, but you know you’ll never have that.

You haven’t spoken to Molly yet, you haven’t even seen her. She isn’t in any of your morning classes with you, but next is lunch and you always sit together, so you’ll have to endure that pitiful interaction. All around, it’s hell. Any accidental eye contact you’ve made has been met with the other person almost urgently looking away. In history everyone around you had placed a desk between you and them, nobody sitting directly next to you. It all leaves you to wonder once again, what the hell is going on? Surely it can’t be what happened at prom, people would tease you for it, but not ostracize you.

You walk to lunch with your eyes glued to the ground, trying your best to keep your head ducked to avoid any more stares.

You hear your name whispered harshly and jerk your head towards the voice. It’s Molly, she’s standing in an empty classroom motioning for you to join her. You roll your eyes. You stomp into the room and she shuts the door behind you.

“Has anyone said anything to you yet?” She asks urgently.

“Uh, no, people are hardly looking at me actually.” You say, “Why?”

She sighs while giving you a very troubled look.

“It’s bad.” She whispers.

“What’s bad?” You ask, panic rising in your chest.

“Everybody thinks you’re nuts.” She says bluntly.

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask her, disbelief evident in your voice.

“James told his friends that you’re a stalker. That you’re obsessed with him and that’s why you showed up at prom acting like he was supposed to be your date. He even told them he was scared to go to school with you, especially after he caught you driving by his house one time…” She stops when she sees you start crying.

So this is it. He’s graduated from spit balls and whoopie cushions to ruining somebody’s life completely. James had stolen his friends clothes from the locker rooms, told people it was pajama day when it wasn’t, all harmless fun. This time, you suppose he needed more of a thrill. You just happened to be the perfect victim.

They all think you’re crazy, not just odd, they think you’re insane, now only Molly and James know the truth. What is the fucking point? Is he really that sick? The confusion crushes you. How the hell did let this happen? He was in love with you, he adored you. He littered kisses on your body and promised you a romance you’ve only dreamed of. Now he’s out to destroy your reputation and humiliate you completely.

“How- how could he?” You ask Molly, begging her for an answer she can’t give you.

“Molly it doesn’t make any sense, he was so amazing, he was everything I’ve ever wanted.” You let out a sob and sit on the table behind you.

All Molly can say is that she’s sorry, she’s so sorry.

“The guidance counselor is going to ask to talk to you, I guess news reached the principal. I overheard him say to the vice that stalking can’t be tolerated. I’ll go with you, I’ll help you explain everything, I can-”

“No Molly. This is mine to deal with.” You say, gathering yourself up to take a deep breath.

You’re going to take this one on the chin. There’s only two months of school left anyway. Fuck everyone, especially that asshole James Barnes. Of course you’ll tell the principal and the guidance counselor the truth, but you know you don’t stand a chance at them believing you, not when James is on the other side. He’ll get out of this, just like everything else. You’ll be left to deal with the looks, pointing fingers and the whispers. All you have left of James now is the memory of falling in love with him, contrasting harshly with how much you hate his guts now.

@b-o-n-e-daddy @lillsrecs @all-art-is-quite-useless @brownlee-22 @peace-love-hobbitness @pinknerdpanda @supernaturalwintersoldier @can-i-sin-right-now

[therubyjailcell]

The Ring in the Dark Blue Velvet Box - [Angst with a Happy Ending]

A/N: I had a very sad and upsetting idea, and I have a lot of feelings about weddings (both good and bad, I won't go into specifics), and I thought "hey, let's write this very upsetting scenario and put some of my fave characters through it". And this is what happened. I hope y'all will enjoy it :3

Summary: Janus wanted to propose that night. So did Logan. Something went wrong, and it was nobody's fault.

Human AU, TS Spoilers because usage of Deceit’s name.

Ship: romantic Loceit, background romantic Logince, background romantic Moceit

TW: denied proposals, angst hurt/comfort, self deprecative thoughts mention

WC:  4652

Link on Ao3

~~

Janus stared at the dark blue velvet box in his hand for a really long time. It was open, and in it laid a silver ring, encrusted with black and blue stones. A wedding ring.

Now, Janus was far from being the kind of person to get married. He honestly had never thought it’d be something he ever wanted. He had a lot of issues about the whole marriage thing, mainly because of all the failed marriages he had seen throughout his entire life - his parents being a prime example of bad marriages turning into a prison with no escape. He had, all his life, been convinced that he’d never get married, and that marriage was bad, something that brought so much negativity… And yet here he was. A velvet box with a ring inside, about to propose to his boyfriend of several years now. His boyfriend was different. Logan had always talked fondly about marriage, and how it seemed really good and how lovely it seemed, to have a ring on your hand stating that you were married. Not that you were taken - both of them were polyamorous, both of them had other partners -, but that you were with someone you loved, that your fates were intertwined. Logan seemed to hold marriage dear, and at first, Janus hadn’t understood why. It made no sense to him - but now… Now it did. An eternity together felt like heaven, and a ring truly didn’t even begin to show how much he wanted this with Logan. How he wanted everything with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it with Patton, his other boyfriend - it just was different. Patton and Janus had never really talked about these things, they’d never thought about the future as much. Patton felt like an open field, freedom, a nice weather. Logan felt like an old library, tea mugs and cuddles while the storm raged outside. Not to mention that Patton and Janus had widely different goals in life - and while they could make it work for a romantic relationship, Janus feared it would become harder if they were to get married. He was fairly certain Patton agreed, too.

Janus sighed. He heard the entrance door open and closed, and he quickly stood up, pocketing the box. He’d ask over dinner. He had everything planned, and even prepared a small speech - although he could already tell he’d forget about it and wing the whole thing, because that was always how it went with him. He headed to greet his boyfriend, smiling when Logan pecked his lips.

“Hey there love. How was your day? - It was good, thank you dear., Logan answered with a smile. - I’m glad then.”

Logan hummed at that, putting his bag down and hanging up his coat, before looking at Janus with a grin.

“You have that face on., Janus commented. - What face? - The face you make when you have an idea you want to talk about. - Damn., Logan chuckled, You’re good at reading me. - Well, I would hope so, we’ve been living together for a while now. Not to mention that we’ve been dating for even longer.”

Logan smiled and pecked Janus’s lips again.

“You’re right. I do want to talk about an idea of mine - but it’ll have to wait, because I need a drink first. - Alright., Janus laughed, Go get hydrated love!”

Logan laughed as he headed to get himself some water. Janus slid his hand in his pocket, holding onto the box that was that. His boyfriend gave him a grin, and he felt his heart swell - god he loved this man so much. Logan finished his glass and put it down, before grinning excitedly at Janus.

“Alright, so, I have something to ask you. - Oh really? So do I., Janus chuckled. - Oh? Well, do you wanna go first? - Oh no, do go ahead, my question can wait - you seem way too excited to share your thoughts, and that definitely peaked my interest.”

That got another wide grin from Logan, and Janus had to say he’d give anything to see his favourite nerd smile like that all the time. It was so beautiful and lovely, so… Perfect. He smiled and nodded for Logan to go ahead.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I’m gonna propose to Roman.”

Janus froze at that. Then he felt the blood drain from his face, and he couldn’t tell how come he didn’t drop on the floor with how weak he suddenly felt. He gulped, and internally thanked all the entities that Logan was too excited to notice, because he was sure that his face must’ve dropped. He took a deep breath before forcing a smile back on. Logan looked so happy though. He looked excited and happy and delighted, and it was all that Janus ever wanted. He squeezed the velvet box in his pocket and forced a giggle out, focusing back on what Logan was saying.

“I saw the ring, you know? And I knew for sure it was the ring I’d want to propose to Roman with. It was it! And I know he and I only talked about marriage a few times, but… It’s perfect for him. So I bought it! And I’m gonna propose to him on our next date. I already planned everything-”

Janus tried his best to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts kept taking over and Logan’s voice sounded like Janus was under water.. Did he know about the feeling of finding the perfect ring to propose to someone? Yeah. That’s what he had felt when he had seen the ring that was in the box, in his pocket. He had hesitated for so long that he was almost convinced that, when going back, he’d be told that the ring had been bought, which would’ve meant no proposal, nothing - but no, the ring was still there. And so was his feeling that it’d be okay, that him and Logan would be happy if they got married. He gulped and tried to focus back on what Logan was saying.

“-and you know, I know you don’t want to get married, so, I knew it wouldn’t be an issue with you, you know. So-”

Ah. Yes. Obviously. Janus was bad at expressing his feelings, especially when it came to correcting himself. He wasn’t sure how to express anything. He’d tried to tell Logan that he had changed his mind - but he didn’t know how. Visibly, he hadn’t managed to convey his change of heart at all. That was all on him then. Failed on that too, eh? Janus gulped, trying to hide how he felt like he had taken a very cold shower. He either managed very well, either Logan was too excited to notice that too.

“So, what do you say? Because, you know. I’m a bit stressed, what if it’s not perfect? Do you think he’ll say yes? I mean, I don’t know. What if he doesn’t?”

Logan was obviously a bit stressed, and that snapped Janus back to reality. He chuckled and kissed his boyfriend’s cheek, letting go of the box still in his pocket.

“Roman loves you, Lo. He’ll say yes, and you’ll have the most beautiful wedding. - And you’ll help us prepare it, even though you’re not a huge fan of them?, Logan asked with a hopeful sort of tone. - Of course I’ll help. Anything for my favourite nerd.”

And he meant it. His heart was kind of in pieces, but he’d help. Especially with the wide smile on Logan’s face right there.

“So… What did you want to ask?”

Janus managed not to flinch at that and he grinned.

“Just wanted to know if we could order pizza instead for tonight? - Oh, of course! I’ll call them if you want? - That’d be really sweet of you love.”

And with that, the subject was over. Janus headed to their bedroom, kneeled in front of his nightstand, all the way to the bottom drawer, and he put the box there, to the back of the drawer. Where nobody would find it unless they were searching for it. He sighed as he closed the drawer, sitting on their bed. It’s not that he didn’t want Logan to marry Roman. He was truly happy for Logan and Roman, they were lovely together… But it still kind of hurt. Because they couldn’t all get married. Because he’d worked really hard on getting over his fear of commitment, because it had taken a lot for him to manage to make peace with his wishes, a lot for him to get the ring, a lot for him to work out the courage to ask. And because his insecurities were always around, saying all sorts of mean things, all sorts of fake things. Except this time, he refused to tell Logan about them - Logan didn’t need that right now, it’d only stress him out even more, or likely would lead to him second-guessing himself. Janus refused to do that to him. The box would stay in the nightstand, and everything would be alright. Logan would have a perfect wedding, Janus would make sure of it. Regardless of who would be waiting for him at the altar.

~~

Janus was on the couch, his computer on one of the chairs that he had put facing him, his tablet in his lap as he doodled. He was alone in the flat, Logan being on a date with Roman. Well, not a date - Logan was on THE date. He was proposing tonight. Janus had done his best to help his nerd get everything done and perfect, and try to keep Logan from panicking completely. It had worked, and Janus really hoped everything would go according to plan. It had already almost been ruined by the rain, but luckily it had stopped before the beginning of the date. Supposedly, the date would end in a couple of hours, but Logan would most likely want to spend the night with his then fiancé - he’d text Janus, and Janus would have the night to mope over not being the one to wear the ring and get over it. It was such a stupid thing to be upset about though. He wasn’t sure why he was upset even. He had never dreamed of a wedding, never fantasized about it. Never even saw himself get married. Never hoped for a proposal, never really thought about it until he had seen that ring. Until he had known Logan could mean forever. Until he had realized he trusted Logan with everything. He sighed and focused back on his drawing, his phone waiting by his side.

When the doorbell rang, about 30 minutes after, Janus frowned. Who the hell would come to their flat in the middle of the night? Patton didn’t live in the city and hadn’t managed to free himself the weekend, or he would’ve been there - when Janus had told him the story, Patton had immediately made sure that Janus’s bad thoughts would stay away. He was really not interested in getting married, and when Janus had apologized for wanting to marry Logan, Patton had laughed and waved it off with a “Never saw myself in that position, never thought that far ahead. The idea of getting married definitely makes me anxious, hah.”, which did make Janus laugh. But back to the doorbell - Patton not being an option, the person who frantically rang the bell was definitely worrying Janus. He went to answer the door and he froze when the answer was a choked up Logan. He opened their flat’s door, closing it once the other got in, before grabbing the tissues and leading Logan to the couch. Why was his boyfriend crying…? Janus was definitely worried. He waited for the other’s sob to quiet down though - Logan would speak when he felt up to it.

It took a few minutes before Logan stopped sobbing, even though he kept hiccuping for a while. Janus had put an arm around his shoulders, rubbing circles in his back, trying to soothe him. Logan leaned against him and Janus kissed the top of his head. They stayed silent for a while, before Logan choked out a small quiet “He said no.”. Janus froze, before squeezing Logan’s shoulder, holding him closer. Roman had said no? The questions started popping up in his head, but he managed to keep quiet. Why would Roman say no? Why would he not want to marry Logan? Had something happened? Did Roman hesitate? Was it Janus’s fault? Maybe Roman had been worried that it’d hurt Janus, maybe Janus just needed to call and reassure him, even though they’d only talked a few times at Logan’s birthdays and other festivities…- He looked at his boyfriend and bit his lip, shaking his head slightly to get rid of the thoughts..

“He said we were too young. Said he wasn’t ready for that. Said it wasn’t really something he’d want right now.”

Logan’s voice was more of a whisper at this point, but Janus could hear him clearly in the complete silence of the flat. He whispered a quiet apology, and Logan sniffled. Janus handed him another tissue.

“He said that when we’d talked about it, he didn’t think I was seriously considering it. Said he didn’t even know if it was something he wanted. He said I hadn’t made it clear enough- Of course I didn’t, I just thought- I- - It’s okay, I know., Janus whispered.”

Logan nodded, burying his face in Janus’s neck. They stayed like that, silent, for a bit.

“I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know what I want anymore. - It’s okay love.”

Janus kissed Logan’s temple. His boyfriend curled up, and he pulled him into his lap. Logan clung onto him, and Janus’s heart ached. He hated not being able to help. He didn’t know what could be done to help. Didn’t know if there was any way to help even. He held Logan close.

“I thought he knew- I asked him if he wanted to get married at some point in his life and he said yes! I asked him how he’d want to be proposed, I asked him what kind of marriage he wanted, whether he wanted to propose or for someone to propose to him… I thought it was clear enough, I don’t understand how he didn’t get it, am I too unclear, am I- - I’m not sure how you could’ve been clearer than that. I’m sorry love.”

Logan fell quiet, and stayed there. Janus held him tight and hoped it would be enough right now.

“I love him so much… - I know. He loves you too, you just are at different points in your life, it’s okay. It happens. - I… Yeah. You’re right… - Always am., Janus joked, his tone soft.”

That got a quiet chuckle from Logan, and Janus counted it as a win. It was enough for the night. They stayed in that position for a while, Logan in Janus’s lap, curled up. Logan clang onto Janus the whole time, and Janus felt even worse than before. He didn’t know how to make his boyfriend smile again - all he wanted was to make his boyfriend smile again.

Once Logan’s breathing slowed down significantly, Janus picked him up and carried him to bed, helping him out of his clothes and into his pajamas. After turning all the lights off, he joined his boyfriend in bed, and Logan curled up around him. Janus hated to see his boyfriend like this… It felt like the world had ended. He sighed, and started to think of ways to make him smile again. He just wanted Logan to be happy.

~~

Logan stared at the dark blue velvet box he had found in the bottom drawer of Janus’s nightstand. He had been searching for a very specific picture that he knew Janus kept preciously somewhere when he had seen that, in the back of the drawer. That looked like a jewelry box. A box for a ring. Which was strange. It’s not that Janus didn’t wear jewels. Janus actually wore tons of them - Logan often joked that the man was addicted to them, and Janus always poked fun at himself for always stopping in front of jewelries. Logan would never complain about it for real - Janus looked great with all these jewels. It fitted him. He looked like an heir, with all of these. No, the weird thing was that Janus kept all his jewels in a very specific place in his study, and nowhere else. It was part of these things Janus always put at the same place, one of the constant - so it made no sense for this to be there. Logan frowned and opened the box.

The ring inside the box was the most beautiful thing Logan had ever seen. Silver, chiseled, encrusted with black and blue stones. Nothing “too much”, quite discreet, but oh so precise and clearly meant to be an engagement ring. Logan felt scared to touch it, as if it would vanish if it came into contact with anyone but the person this was destined to. And Logan’s stomach kind of dropped at that thought. Because clearly, this was a ring to propose to someone. And that someone had to be Patton.

It wasn’t that Logan thought he was the secondary there. He knew Janus loved both of them equally, and that they both meant so much to him - but Patton made so much more sense. Janus and Patton had been dating for longer - granted by only a couple of months or so, but still. Patton was also better with feelings, and if anyone was to manage to get Janus to want to propose, surely it would be him. Which brought Logan to the reasons why this hurt. Janus had always been so sure he’d never get married. Always made it clear that he wasn’t a fan of weddings, always stated that it wasn’t him. Sure, he listened to Logan ramble about weddings, and even gave opinions, but that was it. He’d repeatedly said that he’d never propose to anyone, because he wasn’t the kind of person to do that, even! And yet, here he was, planning on proposing to Patton. Despite saying repeatedly that he and Patton weren’t all that interested in getting married. And not only did that feel really painful for Logan because of his own insecurities, it also reminded him that he hadn’t gotten his boyfriend to marry him, while Patton would definitely say yes. Of course Patton would say yes. Logan sighed.

He closed the box and let out a chuckle, composing himself back.

“You didn’t tell me you were planning on proposing to Patton!, he called out jokingly.”

That was the other thing. Making this decision had most likely taken some time, knowing Janus and how he took decisions - balancing pros and cons, comparing everything, double checking every single detail… Had he kept quiet because it was around the time Roman had denied his own proposal? That would make sense. Definitely hurt though. Another reminder.

“What are you talking about?, came Janus’s answer, tone obviously confused. - The velvet box? In your drawer? With the wedding ring in it?, he said teasingly, Don’t tell me you already forgot about an engagement ring!”

The silence that followed was tense, and only made Logan more certain that Janus had kept quiet about it because of the whole thing with Roman. He forced out a laugh.

“You know it’s okay right? It’s not because Roman told me no that you’re not allowed to get married, my dear.”

He hoped his voice wasn’t too hesitant. God, he hoped it wasn’t, because he was literally feeling like his heart had been shattered and stepped upon repeatedly, and he could feel the anxiety and panic attack creeping in. Logically, he knew this should be okay, and it wasn’t against him, he did, but… It didn’t feel like that at all, alright? Janus stood in the doorway, and Logan’s eyes snapped to him. Something was off, but he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. That is, until he could and he frowned a little. Janus was really pale. Sure, he was generally quite pale, but right away, he looked somehow paler. He was tense, and looked generally horrified. Logan tensed a little. This couldn’t mean anything good…

“Why did you look in that drawer?”

Logan froze at that. Janus’s voice was a quiet whisper, and it was definitely not a good tone. He sounded like he was about to start crying and was barely holding himself together, and that was really scary, because Logan hadn’t heard his boyfriend sound like this in ages. Not since Janus’s last big meltdown. He bit his lip before clearing his throat.

“I was looking for that picture you have of our first anniversary together… I don’t know where you put it, but I’ve seen look in your drawers a few times, so I assumed that was where you might’ve put it. - O-oh…”

Janus looked away and shook his head, before pointing to the trunk in the corner of the room.

“It’s in there. That’s where I put all of the important happy memories.”

He kept his eyes away from Logan, and that definitely made Logan feel like his heart had stopped and his blood had gone cold. Janus never looked at people in the eyes, but he always kept an eye on his partners. Except when he was in a really bad place and couldn’t visualize any faces, of course, but Janus wasn’t having a meltdown, and Logan was worried. He thanked him, before going to him slowly, hoping not to startle him and that his boyfriend would let him come close. Janus didn’t move away, just kept his eyes on the floor. Logan was fairly sure his worry was written all over his face.

“Baby, what’s wrong…? - Everything’s fine, Logan. - That’s a lie, and we both know it., he whispered, taking one of Janus’s hands softly.”

When Janus didn’t pull away, Logan brought the hand up to his lips and kissed Janus’s knuckles softly.

“Please talk to me? There’s nothing I can’t hear, I promise.”

Janus kept quiet for a while. Logan waited patiently. He’d wait until the end of the world if needed too - he just wanted to help Janus.

“I bought the ring 2 months and 6 days ago., Janus whispered.”

So barely a couple of days before Logan had told Janus about his plan of marrying Roman. Alright… That didn’t explain the secrecy though. Was it because Janus hadn’t been willing to steal the focus…? That didn’t sound right, Janus never kept secrets from Logan before, not on things this important.

“Why didn’t you tell me about it? I would’ve helped you plan the proposal, dear. You helped with mine… I would’ve loved to help with yours.”

Janus kept his eyes down and his mouth shut. Logan felt kind of worse minute by minute. 2 months and 6 days and the ring was still there…

“Did you try and he said no? Is that why you still have the ring? Or did you not find the right time, and- - The ring wasn’t for Patton, Logan.”

Janus’s voice was quiet, but Logan heard it clear as day, and he froze. What…? But - if it wasn’t for Patton, then that meant that… Janus only dated the two of them, and the realization dawned on Logan really quickly. And the only way he could describe the feeling that crawled on his back and slid between his ribs, wrapping itself around him was “dread”. Strong, ensnaring dread.

“It wasn’t?, Logan choked out.”

Janus shook his head, and Logan felt his heart shatter again. Because that wasn’t good at all, was it? It could only mean one thing. He had denied Janus’s proposal without meaning to.

And god, that felt awful. He knew the feeling that receiving a “no” gave you. But this wasn’t even a “no”, this wasn’t even a proper denial, this was just… Indirect and painful. Then he thought about how Janus had helped him plan his proposal. And how much that must’ve hurt so much more. Logan felt his chest tighten, and he kissed Janus’s knuckles again, squeezing his hand slightly. Janus squeezed back, softly.

Janus looked at Logan, and Logan could see how hurt Janus was, all the pain he had kept quiet. Not only did an indirect “no” must’ve hurt, but that coupled with Logan not knowing and Janus not wanting Logan to know meant that Janus must’ve bottled up all his feelings again, even though he and Logan had been working on not doing that to each other. That and the fact that Janus must’ve used a lot of courage to buy the ring, make the decision… And then to be shut down immediately. That was worst. Logan gulped.

“I’m sorry - I didn’t mean for you to find out…, Janus whispered.”

Logan froze and looked at Janus in astonishment, and a bit of horror. Why was Janus apologizing?

“I didn’t want you to feel guilty when it was on me. I was too afraid of commitment, and I had the whole thing with… You know. Bad role models, bad memories… I made sure that wedding wasn’t even an option - that’s on me. But I knew you’d blame yourself - please don’t blame yourself -, so I didn’t say anything… And when Roman said no… Well. I didn’t feel like that was the right moment. Didn’t think it’d be a good idea. I was worried you’d think I was pitying you or something, or that you’d say yes as a rebound, or…, Janus sighed, Or that you’d confirm the feeling that you’d rather be with Roman and didn’t want me at all. - Oh, darling…- - No, I know, you love me, I know you do. You never made me feel like you didn’t love me. But you know how my brain works… What ifs, and you seemed so happy to marry Roman, and so crushed when he said no, I was terrified you might be disappointed, or… Or simply that you wouldn’t be as thrilled because of the change in plans. I don’t know. It’s not logical, but when is my brain ever?, he said with a weak chuckle.”

Logan squeezed his hand and Janus squeezed back. They stayed quiet for a while, and Logan could see the tears filling up his boyfriend’s eyes, and slowly rolling down his cheeks. He stepped closer and leaned their foreheads together, taking Janus’s other hand in his own. Janus closed his eyes, and so did he. They stood there for a while more, before Logan smiled slightly and mumbled.

“The ring is beautiful by the way. It’s very… Me. Very us.”

Janus let out a quiet, wet giggling noise at that, and Logan squeezed his hands. He prefered that to the hollow tone Janus had before that.

“You think so? - Yes. I love it.”

There was a small silence, before Janus whispered quietly.

“Enough for you to wear it, maybe?”

Logan paused, his eyes opening immediately, as he stared at Janus with a mix of shock and awe. Janus looked a bit hesitant, worried too, but he wasn’t backing off of this.

“Definitely., he whispered; - Really? - Really., he nodded.”

Janus looked at him in awe, a lovestruck expression on his face, and Logan felt like he would melt at any moment. Janus let go of his hands and cupped his face before kissing him softly. Logan leaned into the touch and in fact melted, kissing Janus back. Sure, it wasn’t taking away the pain of the previous denied proposal, but it was a start, and it felt nice. Janus had always had a good eye to pick ring sizes, and jewelry in general. It fit Logan perfectly, and it looked lovely with all of his wardrobe.

~~

Gen Taglist:

@acid-atlas @creativity-killed-thekitten @sweetsweetemo @ollyollyoxinfree @emologan @theshadow-inthelight @croftered-with-jam

[modestlyabsurd]

Alight Pt. 1 (Loki x Reader)

One rule. One rule. "Don't. Get. Caught."

Funny how things turn out.

And guess what? Plan B consisted of nothing pertaining to the possible arrest by the Time Variance Authority. Hell, what even was Plan B? A code word for "abort"? Well, that sure came in handy when they confiscated your communication equipment - along with every other item on your person.

Initially there was the idea that Bruce and Stephen would get some sort of distress signal from a device, but that hope died a week ago making almost three weeks in this prison so far. These fucking people probably hacked the equipment and disabled the location, or maybe the doctors didn't even think to add a location feature at all. Maybe they think you're dead. Maybe you failed and now you're stuck here indefinitely. Anything's fair enough at this point.

There's icing on the cake, too - you have absolutely no clue where Loki is.

Why? Why would they leave the mission deciding the fate of humanity up to you?! You're not even a fucking Avenger! Why, you ask? Because Loki was in love with you before he died in '18. Because you brought out the humanity in him. Because the Loki who's running amok through time and space lacks that humanity. Because you're the most normal one, who would seemingly fly under the radar unnoticed.

A month ago that seemed logical. Now, fuck logic. You've never felt so alone in your life.

With absolutely no defenses of your own - being just a mere human after all - your only modus operandi in any hopes of escaping is silence. Pure silence. They don't know your name. They don't know your birthday. They don't know who you are or why you're travelling through timelines. Daily interrogations from these TVA agents, and not a word from you. They probably question if you can speak at all at this point.

What they do know is you are in fact working for someone, and that you have a goal. And whoever you're working for is technologically advanced to some degree; all of which has come from their own mouths. Hearing that was the first bit of relief you've tasted, since if they figured out your motives and handlers, they'd likely question you specifically on that.

That little fire of hope sparked again. It started to burn, especially when given time to feed after days with no interrogations.

After somehow having found decent sleep on the twin-sized cot provided by TVA, the door of your cell opens loudly and you spring awake, adjusting to the light.

Brooding steps enter closer. "Get up, Doe six one eight. Moby wants to see you."

The handcuffs dig into your wrists as Dickhead 101 manhandles you to the head honcho's office. He's probably gonna dislocate a shoulder if he's not careful, and you consider that that could be the point. He doesn't act differently in front of his superior when he all but throws you into the interrogation room, and no one seems to care.

"Good morning, Doe six one eight," says Mobius when you have a seat across the desk. Your eyes adjust again - this room is somehow darker than your cell - and you can't help but scowl at the weasel in front of you. He brings his stupid little plaque every time. Mobius M. Mobius. So cryptic.

A second passes as he waits for a response. Nothing. Dickhead shifts in frustration beside you.

Mobius sighs. "I was really hoping to hear your voice today. Looks like we're gonna have to try something new, since the same-old same-old isn't working yet."

He opens up a briefcase on the desk and briefly pillages through it, before replacing it on the floor. In his palm is the ring. The black ring that monitored your vitals, and where Banner said the tracking device was. You chew your lip and resist snatching it away from Mobius; not that the handcuffs would let you.

"I'm sure you remember this, don't you?" he questioned, twirling it in his fingers. "Among other things, of course. But this, this was something else," he laughs. His beady eyes searching you for an answer.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. You think we've somehow reverse-searched the data in this ring or, or identified the blend of metals and narrowed down our options to just a few manufacturers. Or we even found some fingerprints other than yours. Which, you're not wrong. We did all of that. But I bet you'll never guess what spoke the loudest."

Your zero in on Mobius and his coy grin. Gravity pulls your eyebrows together and all the things overflowing inside you lock your jaws tight.

"C'mon," he rests his elbow on the desk, holds the ring between you. "I want you to guess."

You don't.

Dickhead is about to explode in a fit of rage. He huffs like a bull at a matador, and could pass as one too. But you don't look at him. You look at the ring, then at Mobius, wanting to jump out of your skin and run away.

"You don't know? Alright then; two words," Mobius takes his glasses off and enunciates, "gamma radiation."

Gamma radiation? Isn't that ... Oh ... oh no ...

"Ah, so you're familiar with the term. Yes, gamma radiation. Brilliant, really. Who would think to use that as a means of communication? Especially on such long-distance travels - it's genius," Mobius pauses, and in the quiet you realize you haven't breathed in a good minute. But the air is so thick, your lungs all but reject it.

He continues, "Now, Doe six one eight, I mean absolutely no offense but, you don't seem quite genius enough to have invented these devices and their mechanisms all by yourself. Then again, all I have to base that on is your appearance. I don't know what timeline you're originally from or why you've trespassed in the the first place. But now, thanks to this," he toys with the ring, "it'll be a little easier to figure that out."

Dickhead shuffles beside you, wrenching you up by your bicep. Despite him, you don't break away from Mobius as he replaces the ring into the briefcase.

"Y'know what, though? It would be even easier for everyone if you'd just ... tell me your name," Mobius shrugs.

You say nothing. Even though a yelp is inches from your tongue from how tightly your arm is being squeezed. Dickhead's body is a mountain compared to yours. His angry breath stains your skin.

For the first time, Mobius lets a sliver of frustration slip as he shakes his head in disbelief. "You just don't want this to be easy, do you?"

A gulp. The tightness doesn't subside.

Mobius stands with the briefcase and places his glasses back on gloomily. "Return the prisoner. It's almost time for breakfast." Dickhead nods and pulls you toward the door; you nearly trip from the force of it. "On second thought," Mobius announced, "Doe six one eight is in need of some teaching. There'll be no food for the prisoner until I allow it. From there, do as you see fit."

~

"Get in there!"

What's this?

The somewhat peaceful quiet is interrupted. A green misty tendril dissipates into the darkness from outstretched fingertips.

He arises, striding lazily to the wall to eavesdrop.

"You wanna talk yet?"

Silence. A bold statement.

The guard is angered by this. "No? Then I guess you won't need any light for a while." Thudding footsteps and more silence. Okay, this is intriguing. He closes his eyes and listens deeper, just as the sound of shattering glass reopens them. He tenses. Small, delicate glass.

"Clean it up. Or this can be a lot worse for you."

Very intriguing!

Ending the interaction is the sound of the metal door slamming behind the disgruntled guard. Ugh, the best things always end just when they become exciting. What a shame.

With a newly piqued interest, Loki awaits his breakfast and inevitable interrogation. Surprisingly, even he hadn't gotten a reaction quite like that. Maybe that can be a new game; to one-up the fury that his mysterious neighbor can invoke.

The little flames of amusement smother quickly, and returns is the real task at hand. But the soft, sad sound of gathering glass shards next to his bed keeps the wondering embers burning.

~

who else is pregnant from that clip y'all

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, iv

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt iv: game of survival

Masterlink Post

Word Count: 4.7k

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.

Warnings: Language, some “light” religious blasphemy (it’s Far Cry 5), the Seeds being themselves. This is an enemies to lovers (enemies to enemies and lovers?), strong canon deviance from here on out. Mentions of blood/carnage, the frantic energy of people who both hate and are attracted to each other. It goes on!

Notes: Hi guys! I'm so, so sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter up. You know how quarantine-times just be like that where you manically write something for like 8 days straight and then never touch it again for weeks? Yeah, it really DO be like that sometimes.Anyway, this chapter is a bit of a filler, for which I apologize; I wanted some softer John/Elliot moments, at least something that wasn't quite so much "fuck off" and "please go fuck yourself" constantly, but also, that is also kind of Elliot's personality, so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I promise I will try to be much better at making myself sit down and actually write now that I'm not swallowed up by a black hole of writer's block! Thank you to everyone for your patience and understanding and for all of the lovely comments and kudos; it really means the most to me! I just love getting the chance to interact with y'all.

The adrenaline crash was already happening.

Elliot was familiar with the sensation; as she rifled through the glove box of the Eden’s Gate van, John waited impatiently just on the other side of her while the sound of car doors and voices echoed in the distance. He clearly wanted to tell her to hurry up, and maybe he would, if she took long enough—but she wasn’t keen on these fucking crazies getting their hands on her.

She almost laughed at the thought. Passed from one psycho’s hands to another; wouldn’t that be something? Joey would be absolutely furious.

If she’s not dead, that unrelenting voice in her head echoed, stilling her hands for a moment.

“Deputy?” John asked, when she stopped moving, maybe because he was worried she could hear or see something he couldn’t. That would be nice—John Seed, sweating, for once in his fucking life.

If they didn’t already gut her and plant a whole fucking garden in her.

“Rook.” His voice wasn’t a question now, but a command, and she could hear it in his voice; look at me, tell me what you’re thinking, and her teeth clicked together. She closed the glove box shut, no reward to be found—just loose papers and some napkins—and closed the door beside her. The rattle of the chain link binding their cuffed wrists together reminded her, once again, of the absurdity of their situation.

“Don’t call me that,” she said tiredly, the rush of driving almost head-first into another car at a hundred miles-per-hour fleeing her body, leaving her feeling gutted and emptied out. She coughed into her elbow and the gesture pulled something in the cavity of her chest; now more than ever, she wished that she’d taken the risk of potentially dying and just popped those Tylenol-looking pills when she’d had the chance

John stared at her for a moment. He didn’t respond to her demand, but replied, “You’re still wearing my glasses.”

Elliot shrugged. She pushed the glasses down her nose a little to peer at him over the blue, reflective lenses. “They look better on me anyway.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. He looked like he wanted to say something to her—and she certainly expected him to snap at her to hand them over—but he turned away and started walking. He said, briskly, “Let’s not get hunted down like wild animals, shall we?”

“Yes,” Elliot agreed, falling into step with him, sobering her voice quite purposefully, “wouldn’t it be awful if one of those crazy cultists say, drugged and kidnapped us? Absolutely beastly.”

John shot her a look. He looked awfully like he wanted to say something again; that frustrated tense of his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed, these were all familiar gestures to her. She could tell that she was pushing a button he didn’t want her to have access to. That knowledge gave her a giddy kind of thrill and kick-started her system all over again. Good, Elliot thought, minding her business as picked along a barely-used trail and left the van behind them, going further and further into the wilderness. The river was close; if she had to guess, they were somewhere halfway between where John had taken resident and the border into Faith’s territory. I hope that pisses him off.

“We should head back to the ranch first,” Elliot continued, falling into step with John—and not without some puffing. “And would you slow down? Remember how you got me sick? And then handcuffed us together in a temper tantrum? And then—”

“I was there,” John snipped at her. Despite his brittle tone, he did make an effort of less power walking, maybe because he didn’t want to have to drag her unconscious body along once she passed out from billowing her way across the Montana wilderness.

“Just wanted to make sure. Humility is a virtue, as they say.”

“I have to get Faith back,” he said, ignoring her little jab. “I can’t let those fucking nutjobs keep her.”

Elliot clambered over a log, keeping half of her attention on the sound of voices, still distant enough that she wasn’t worried about it. “In case you’ve forgotten this other small detail,” she continued, “they probably also have Joey, which they wouldn’t, if you had just kept your grimy hands off of her. So, you know—let’s keep in mind we have generally the same goal, here.”

“Thank you,” John muttered tersely, “for keeping us goal-oriented.”

“You’re very welcome, John.” Elliot tugged the sweatpants back up her hips; now, in the dying light of golden hour, she was regretting not changing into her jeans earlier that morning. Of course there was no way she could have known, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

She felt breathless from talking and walking, but the desire to really dig in was too great, overwhelming her need to take a full breath as she added, “It’s my pleasure, truly. Any time you need me, all you have to do is—”

As they wandered down closer to the river, John puffed out, “Do you ever stop talking?”

“I remember a time when all you wanted was for me to talk to you.”

Just as she finished her sentence, about to tack another jab on just for the hell of it—and another thing—she heard shouts, closer now, in a foreign language that she didn’t recognize. She stilled immediately, instinctively reaching and grabbing John’s arm to keep him from continuing on.

He opened his mouth to ask her what she was stopping for, but before he could she waved her hand frantically at him and voicelessly mouthed the words, shut the fuck up. Just one moment was all it would take; one second for them to be heard and they’d be gutted and flayed open, just like Waylon. Elliot did not have any desire to become a floral arrangement any time soon.

The voices echoed again, closer this time. John pushed her hand out of his face and instead pulled her further along the trail, moving with greater purpose this time; the second she started struggling to keep up, he wrapped a firm arm around her midsection and hoisted her, planting her right in front of him before he ducked them into some brush.

(She reckoned the heat in her cheeks was adrenaline, certainly, and not the way it had felt to have John’s chest pressed against her back, his arm warm and strong against her: because it certainly wasn’t that, but perhaps more like a pneumonia fever or just her body crumpling under the stress.)

Dark, heavy boots stormed through the underbrush, talking to each other now in a more conversational tone; though Elliot could hear them chattering and occasionally laughing at what the other said (in Swedish, or perhaps Dutch?) she could see their feet moving with distinct, sharp precision, stopping in time with each other and starting again whenever one of them said something.

Oh, fuck, she thought with a sick, desperate, sinking feeling. They’re so fucking organized. God, fuck.

It was one thing to kill peggies, to storm her way into a compound and smash her head into the face of one or peel into the parking lot in her Jeep, Boomer having gutted two or three of them on their way in; Eden’s Gate members carried only chaotic, frenetic energy, barely held together by their worship of their leader and his siblings. Whatever structure they upheld was purely because they were told to, and it wasn’t a system they could execute on their own, without direction.

She had never fought something, or someone, organized. She had never bashed her face into someone who had thirty other comrades marching down to kill her, spear her on a stick and stuff her mouth with baby’s breath.

I’m only a girl. It was a startling, violent moment of realization, that she had been bumbling her way through this, working purely on emotion and instinct. She was not a practiced, methodical killer, but one born out of necessity. I’m only a girl, I can’t kill people who have their shit together.

Elliot was vaguely aware of her breathing becoming labored, grinding in her lungs, and only became consciously aware of it when John’s hand pressed to her mouth, his arm still wrapped around her stomach. His hands smelled—tasted—like leather and dirt, and it was almost comforting enough to ground her, because for once John didn’t smell like that stupid fucking cologne that she hated, but she could still feel the dirt against her mouth like she was getting buried face down—

The steps slowed, stopping just in front of the brush. Elliot could see a silhouette cut across the forest floor, dappled by the branches of the thicket John had plunged them into, the branches pulling and tugging at her hair and shirt and skin. But she only barely saw it, because John’s back faced the trail they’d just been on, his arms around her. A shield.

“I think they’re gone,” John muttered after what felt like an entire fucking eternity and the voices had faded off, hunched in the brush and coiled around her like a snake, dropping his hand from her mouth. She tried to quiet the panicked roaring in her ears to listen (John didn’t know what to listen for; he didn’t know what it was like to have to hold your breath and hope your hunters passed you by) but she couldn’t; all she could think was oh fuck, oh God, I can’t do this. They’re going to kill me without a blink. They’re going to kill Joey. They’re going to—

“Rook,” John said, his voice firmer now. He must have been convinced their pursuers had moved on. “Rook, my hand.”

Her nails were digging into his wrist, revisiting shallow wounds she had made the night that John had held her under. But he didn’t wince or yank his hand away; he watched her intently, waiting for the iron-clad grip of her fingers to loosen. Elliot closed her eyes for a second, just a second, to ground herself.

I feel: John’s heartbeat, the dirt, the wind. I heard: John’s voice, leaves rustling, the river down below. I smell: dirt, leather, pine sap, humid river air.

She kept waiting for John to push her again. She kept waiting for him to say something stupid—Earth to Elliot?—or demand she get moving, or something equally insufferable, but he stayed like that; chest against her back, eclipsing out the little bit of sun breaking through the brush, waiting.

“I’m fine,” Elliot murmured. She felt like she was on auto-pilot.Too much, her body was screaming at her, the sickness’ sticky hands crawling through her, leaving fingerprints all over her lungs.You’re doing too much. The adrenaline was crashing hard through her body now, and all she wanted to do was puke and then lay down for a nice, long nap. She loosened her grip on his wrist for a moment before letting her hand fall completely from his.

John didn’t say whether or not he believed her, but he stood up slower than he had moved before, peering cautiously around before picking his way out of the brush. He remained (blissfully) silent as Elliot stepped around him; what he lacked in personal relatability, she thought with a sort of familiar dryness, he made up for when he kept his mouth shut.

“Elliot,” he said, ruining her peace, bulldozing over it wildly like he did just about everything else in her life. There was a question somewhere in the way that he said her name, and she felt the pull of the cuffs linking them together when he stopped.

She turned to look at him. He didn’t, for once, look as though he wanted to say something; instead, he was waiting expectantly. For an explanation, she supposed. Or maybe a thank you. That sounded much more like him.

Elliot said, again, “I’m fine,” her hands on her hips, resisting the urge to double over like her body was begging her too. She had never known when to stop, not really, not without someone else telling her. Her mama liked to call it her Too Much gene.

John arched a dark brow at her. His mouth curved in something like a smile, but it was too bitter, too wry, too knowing to be a real smile. She knew his real smile, even if he didn’t think so. She’d seen it. Boyish and—dare she say—endearing. This was not it.

She gathered up all of her willpower and bit out, “John Seed, if we don’t get moving, we’re going to having marigolds and daisies and what the fuck else blooming right out of our gutted rib cages.”

Whatever had been sitting on John’s face was wiped clean by her words. A good old dose of reality. She tugged on the chain impatiently, and he fell into step again with her, trudging through the underbrush.

“And don’t look at me like that,” she snapped out over her shoulder. “I told you, I’m fine.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot was not fine.

John would admit —to himself, silently, and never under any other circumstances—that he did not know Elliot Honeysett very well. He did, however, know her enough. The way she’d gripped his wrist, looking for an anchor; the strange, haunted, disconnected way her eyes had flickered from point to point in the nowhere-in-particular when he spoke to her, never quite looking at him. He’d seen those things in her before. He’d seen that look on her face earlier that morning. He’d seen that strange disconnect, a switch of a flip somewhere in her mind, when she’d certainly considered choking one of the guards to death.

All the same, he reasoned as they trudged up a hill, trying to ignore the distant sounds of gunfire that bode poorly and having been walking for what he could only guess was hours now, it was odd. Having her cling onto him. Clutch his wrist for support. It was—

(nice)

—strange, to think about Elliot needing him, in the same way the realization had unseated him when he had understood she’d been relying on him to keep her safe at the ranch.

“Did you take that Tylenol?” he asked absently, an afterthought, still mulling over their odd closeness in the woods, trying to pin down why it writhed and squirmed in the cavity of his chest. The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains, and a slow, uneasy chill had crawled through the air. “Back at the ranch.”

“Do I look like an idiot?” Elliot huffed out, pausing halfway up the hill, to try and catch her breath.

“That was rhetorical, before you consider replying with astonishing honesty,” the blonde snipped out after a moment of breathing.

Her voice sounded raspier now, like she’d picked up chain-smoking. She cocked her head, looking at him for a moment, her hands on her hips; she had Jacob’s old sweats wadded up to her waist—so small, John thought absently, she’s been losing weight like crazy—and an old gray undershirt of his tied in a knot at her stomach. Her ponytail was practically disengaged completely, big chunks of her blonde hair falling into her face and sticking to her cheeks and jaw. She looked feverish, or maybe out of shape, though John suspected it was much more likely to be the former than the latter.

John replied, “I would hate to disappoint your opinion of me.”

“Cute.” Elliot pushed her way up the last half of the hill, cresting the top and finally—finally, because he could tell she’d been waiting to do this—bent over at her hips, hands on the tops of her thighs. They were probably a good hundred yards from the ranch now, in the thickest part of the woods and in the farthest reach from the driveway, which Elliot had insisted on. “Good fucking God, I never want to move for the rest of my life.”

“You’d probably feel better if you took that Tylenol I left you.”

“Hey. Hey, John?” She snapped her fingers at him, not looking at him but waving wildly. “Hey. Oh, yeah? Shut the fuck up.”

“Somehow,” John mused, peering through the trees to see if he could get a glimpse of the ranch, “you are even unpleasant when subdued by sickness, deputy.”

He’d become so accustomed to her casual venom that it was almost a comfort, now. He would know something was wrong with her when she wasn’t trying to bite his head off, but at least for now, bound together by metal, he knew she wasn’t going to try and kill him. It would be too much of a hassle to try and drag his corpse along through the woods.

I have to get Faith, John thought, eyes straining to see through the trees but his body reluctant to get any closer to the treeline. I have to get her. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It’s all fucked, the whole lot of it. They’ve got her on some shit again. Fuck.

Joseph would be so angry; more than that, Faith was certainly going to be scared out of her mind, once the drugs wore off.

“They’re here.” Elliot’s voice shook him out of his thoughts; she had caught her breath, for now, and wandered closer to the treeline. Her brows furrowed together, and for a second John almost laughed at how ridiculous it was to have her face so serious when she refused to give him back his glasses.

Any humor that he might have felt was ripped away when he followed her gaze to see what he saw: the nondescript gray vans, parked in a semi-circle, leaving an exit down the drive. He watched a few of the men in their dark clothes guiding members of Eden’s Gate into the back of the van. Ase, and Faith, and Ase's red-haired executioner man were nowhere to be seen.

“They aren’t fighting,” John muttered as he watched the members of Eden's Gate hand their weapons over. He felt something sick deep in the pit of his stomach.

“Well, John,” Elliot began, and he thought, don’t fucking say it, but she plunged on regardless, “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got yourself a brood of followers, not leaders.”

“They’re devout,” John insisted bitingly. It welled up inside of him—perhaps embarrassment, or humiliation—and he swallowed thickly. “They’re just surviving, that’s all. It would be stupid for them to all get killed.”

The blonde shot him a look through the side of her expression, wary. She didn’t need to say anything for him to figure out what it meant. Sure, John. They certainly let me and the others mow them down no problem, but right now, they’re just surviving.

“We can’t get into the ranch now,” Elliot ventured after a moment, stepping back from the treeline. “The best thing to do is wait and see if they leave. They don’t strike me as a home-base type of crazy, but you never know; maybe those weird cell-like rooms you put in the basement will tickle their fancy.”

“What?” John demanded. He trailed after her, indignant. “We’re just going to let them take Faith and leave?”

Elliot sighed. She looked to be working something between her teeth, words she wanted to say to him but that she was taking care to mull over first, and he didn’t know if that relieved him or filled him with more dread.

“Yes,” she said after a moment, and he thought, definitely more dread, I like it better when she talks impulsively. 

“Tell me this is a stupid joke,” John insisted. Elliot’s lashes fluttered. A strange flicker of emotion streaked across her face, as brilliant and short-lived as a shooting start, and his stomach knotted when he thought it might have been pity.

“We have to. They obviously aren’t planning on killing her, John; if they were, they wouldn’t have flaunted her in front of your face,” Elliot replied, starting to walk again, carefully picking her way down a small ravine and then following its slope downwards, towards the river again.

John’s feet moved forward, even when he didn’t want to, even when he wanted to turn back around and storm the ranch and demand Faith be returned back to him. Finally, eventually, he willed himself to stop, as though he only just remembered that he was the bigger of the two of them and carried the most weight in their little red-rover chain.

“We can’t leave her with them,” he insisted. “That’s bullshit, deputy. Just because she’s not one of yours—”

Elliot turned to look at him. Her eyes were narrowed, and she pulled on the chain, hard, the way that John had done to her, yanking him forward abruptly.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, John Seed, but I’ve got more experience doing rescue missions for people kidnapped by cults than you do.” Her voice was hard, venomous. “They could have Joseph in there at gun-point and I’d still rescue him.”

John felt the anger blooming in his chest. “I never took you for a liar.”

“I was never going to kill a little fucking girl,” Elliot replied viciously. “And that’s what she is, even if Joseph pumped her full of poison. I was never going to kill any of you Seeds.”

“No?” John demanded. “Then what?”

A moment of silence stretched between them. It welled with something, somethingsoemthingsomething that John wanted to grapple with his hands and squeeze, but that he couldn't.

She said, after a few heartbeats, “Put you in jail to rot, you fuckhead.” Elliot turned on her heel and started marching again. “Death would be too kind an ending for you.” 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

By the time they found a spot to stop, it was nearly completely dark. They had walked in almost complete silence after her little proclamation, enough to make him wonder if that odd moment of closeness had been a figment of his imagination after all.

Elliot picked a spot out for them close to the river, but still kept shadowed by the shrubs, and John didn’t have much will to argue with her anymore; her words kept sliding around in his head like marbles. Death would be too kind an ending for you.

He knew what she was really saying, with that. If I have to suffer with living, her voice said, beyond the words, then so do you.

The blonde was shivering as she loaded John’s arms up with wood (much to his chagrin; he’d already put this Versace shirt through enough, and now she was doing this), and by the time they got a fire going he thought she might pass out from the entirety of the day.

“Cold, deputy?” John asked mildly, watching her untie the knot of the shirt and slink her arms into the over-sized fabric, huddled by the small fire they’d (she’d) made. She glared at him.

“Well—”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he interjected, as though he could hear it already. “I know you’ve got pneumonia, and it's all my fault, as I willed it upon you.”

“Goody,” Elliot replied. There was no bite in her voice anymore; exhaustion was pulling at the edges of her expression, tugging her voice down, and John felt almost a bit of relief at the knowledge that maybe they were done trading blows. For now.

Lit by firelight, she looked softer. There was still an open wound where she’d really dug her words in, and maybe it was still bleeding a little, but John could feel the evening chill sinking into his bones now too, even with the sleeves of his button-up rolled down. So yes; Elliot did look softer, and smaller, and warmer, and John would be stupid to willingly get pneumonia so that they were both huffing and puffing through the woods.

He acquiesced, after a moment of silence and as though relenting to his own mental argument, “It would be warmer if we shared body heat.”

The look she shot him might as well have been daggers. “What,” she quipped, “being handcuffed to me isn’t enough for you?” I suppose we aren't done trading blows after all.

“Look, I’m not dressed for a Montana night out in the woods,” he insisted, “and certainly neither are you. You’re already sick.” 

Elliot scoffed and rolled her eyes.

He ventured, again, “You already said we can’t leave the fire burning all night. The smoke would give us away.”

“And I’m also saying that there’s no way in fucking hell I’m letting you spoon me,” Elliot replied, closing her eyes. “If you get hypothermia, then maybe it’s the karmic universe telling you to go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, very nice, deputy.”

He sighed, stretched out on his side and drinking up as much of the fire’s warmth as he could before Elliot would, inevitably, stamp it out and try to get some sleep. The ground was soft and mossy, and while John couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping in the same clothes he’d been running around in, the day had begun to take its toll on him.

“If you change your mind,” John continued, “I can assure you I’m an excellent big spoon.”

Elliot scoffed, again, and he thought, oh, well. Maybe the karmic universe will serve me something after all, but we’ll have to wait and see, and let his eyes drift shut.

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when he first felt a change. It could have been thirty minutes, or a few hours; Elliot’s sleep schedule was so unknown to him—and certainly changed by her illness—that he couldn’t have wagered if he wanted to. But he was still mostly asleep when he felt the warmth of her body tucked against his, shivering, like a leaf in the wind. There was still a soft detergent scent to her clothes, even after everything, and her head fit just under his chin.

John shifted. He didn’t need to open his eyes to tell it was Elliot, and not a bear or mountain lion trying to find the best way to carve out his intestines; Elliot’s hair brushed along his jaw, and she pulled his arm over her like a blanket.

“Is this my karmic retribution?” he rumbled, half asleep still. Elliot’s teeth chattered.

“Just consider this making yourself useful,” she replied. Her voice was muffled from her face being tucked against his shirt. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes, boss.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He had expected to get woken up gently, by the rising sun, or perhaps the feeling of Elliot disengaging from their only-for-warmth spooning session. 

Instead, John was woken abruptly by the feeling of a cold, wet nose pressing into his face, hot, stinking breath whuffling across his face.

“What—the fuck—”

John swatted the air blindly, the smell of dog breath wafting over his face as he struggled into a sitting position. It took a moment for him to right himself, to get a good grasp on his surroundings; their handcuffs were still linked. Elliot was awake, and sitting up already, and beaming as a Blue Heeler stared at John. 

As soon as his eyes landed on the dog, it barked at him. Loudly. All of the hair on the hound’s spine rose, all the way down to the base of its tail, and a low, nasty growl rose in its throat.

“Boomer,” Elliot said, and immediately the dog sat. Boomer’s eyes darted between Elliot and John, wary and uncertain. The blonde, however, looked happier than John thought he’d ever seen her, reaching out and ruffling the dog’s hair until it lay flat again, smiling. “Look, John, Boomer found us.”

“Oh,” John replied, “your killer beast. Excellent.”

Elliot laughed. It was as though Boomer was waiting for the sound; he barked, happily this time (could dogs bark in different tones, John wondered), tail wagging furiously as he crowded Elliot for her attention.

“Don’t worry,” the blonde said, giving John a sly look, “he only bites on command.”

[beanzybrandon]

High School! PRETTYMUCH — Brandon Arreaga

A/N: This is just a tad bit shorter than Austin’s but I’m pleased with it otherwise. 

• Brandon is a bit on the nerdier side if I'm being honest

• He's exceptionally bright and has very high expectations for himself. As such, he's been enrolled in honors and AP classes since his freshman year and is looking toward taking dual credit courses as soon as possible. • He cares a lot about his academics and is hellbent on doing his absolute best in everything; he's spread himself a bit thin on more than one occasion, but he's learned how to balance all of his work and properly handle the stress that comes along with it. • Probably one of the most well-rounded students you'll ever meet • Like, on top of such an impressive class load, he's pretty active in various groups and clubs. He's an active member of the schools' Honor Society chapter, he was on the debate team at one point, and he's currently historian of the student council • It's through this last extra-curricular that the two of you formally meet • You're not a stupid person by any means, so the two of you have shared more than one class throughout your high school career, but the two of you had never really spoken outside of the occasional pleasantry or the conversations that were shared over assignments and projects • When he rose to his position, you had taken your seat at the table as the council's treasurer • The frequent meetings ensured that the two of you spoke frequently, ad as the weeks gradually transitioned into months, conversation began to flow a lot easier between the two of you. There was a lot more depth to him than you had originally assumed and you had come to find that the two of you had quite a bit in common. • That was about as far as things got, though. • Neither of you could work up the courage to ask the other for any sort of contact information, so the conversations you shared were confided to the hour-long blocks of time dedicated to your weekly council meetings after school • It isn't until it comes time to vote in new members and replace outgoing students that things begin to change • The two of you have both decided to run for the coveted position gifted only to upperclassmen - president • The fact that the two of you are running against one another does absolutely nothing to deter the growth of the relationship the two of you have established, though • If we're being completely honest, the upcoming election is probably the catalyst that forces the two of you together • After discussing your plans during one of the final meetings before campaign season was set to begin, it was determined that neither of you was quite sure where to start. There was a lot that needed to be done and next to no time to accomplish everything • Figuring a little bit of extra help wouldn't probably do the two of you some good, you exchanged numbers and began to speak a lot more frequently • More often than not it had to do with the preparations that would need to be done, but there were instances in which the conversation delved into more personal topics • Rather than work against one another, you and Brandon did your best to offer sound advice and support one another however you could. You even worked together to create pins and flyers to hand out around the school • The entire process is very fun for both of you, and by the time elections roll around you're a bit upset that you ran against each other and only one of you can be elected president • You're only sad for so long, though, because you ended up pulling ahead • Not by much, but somehow you manage • Brandon is a good sport about the entire thing and congratulates you immediately after hearing the good news • He's such a good sport that he offers to take you out for a celebratory dinner later that week • You agree, of course, a warm smile breaking out over your face as you arrange a place and time

• He's very old-school about the entire thing; it's actually very sweet. He picks you up at eight and introduces himself to your parents, promising both of them that he'll have you back home before it gets too late. He opens the passenger's side door for you, helping you into the vehicle before he situates himself behind the wheel and sets off for the restaurant

• The evening is pleasant, talking flowing freely between the two of you as you pick at your food. Both of your meals go cold before either of you have the opportunity to put much of a dent in them; you're too absorbed in one another, wanting to know anything and everything the other was willing to share. • Rather than drive you home after leaving the restaurant, he suggests taking a short walk. • "There's a park just down the road. The way the moon reflects off the pond is beautiful." • You would have agreed regardless, but this extra little bit of coaxing sweetens the deal a bit.

• The way he holds your hand as the two of you walk down the sidewalk is so?? Pure and sweet?? His grip is a bit loose as if he's afraid of holding too tight and hurting you. They're a bit clammy but not unpleasantly so. You're just as nervous • The two of you just stand on the edge of the water for a while, saying nothing as you look out over the water • He was right. It really is beautiful

• You know what's even more beautiful, though?? •  The way the light dances off the ends of your hair. The way the gentle sway of the water is caught in your eyes • He tells you as much and it makes your face flush a vibrant shade of red

• The way he holds your hand as the two of you walk down the sidewalk is so?? Pure and sweet?? His grip is a bit loose as if he's afraid of holding too tight and hurting you. They're a bit clammy but not unpleasantly so. You're just as nervous • The two of you just stand on the edge of the water for a while, saying nothing as you look out over the water • He was right. It is beautiful • You know what's even more beautiful, though?? •  The way the light dances off the ends of your hair. The way the gentle sway of the water is caught in your eyes • He tells you as much and it makes your face flush a vibrant shade of red • It isn't long before the chill of the breeze that has kicked up is pressing the two of you closer. His arm winds itself around your waist and you press closer, looking for warmth • I think it goes without saying that the two of you kiss • And oh bOY are his lips soft (I know what y'all are thinkin, this was before he decided chapstick was an unnecessary commodity) • The two of you start seeing a lot more of each other after that. He takes you on a few more dates before formally asking you out

• HE IS THE SOFTEST BOYFRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD IT IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER • He's a bit inexperienced but he's doing his absolute best • He's always showering you in compliments and kisses

• The type of boy to slip little notes in your locker and backpack all the time?? • Just cute lil messages about how much he loves you or how he hopes you have a great day. He just wants to see you smile • He's also huge on skinship?? wants to hold hands all the time, loves cuddles

• Lowkey relationship goals?? Everyone seems to adore the two of you • Not gonna lie, the two of you have the type of bond that will more than likely survive the duress that moving on to college puts on it

• He's just • A very soft boi • Cherish and take care of him pls n thankee

[ao3feed--reylo]

he was seeking for more

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2wl667W

by troublingchaoticmusings

tl;dr: rey is a spy for the resistance, first order solutions executive is her mark for the night, chaos (and nudity) ensues

this is my first time ever publishing on AO3, long time reader, first time caller y'all so please please please leave your t's and p's and your feedback! it was a 2020 goal of mine to finally start writing for and put something out there for the first time, so mission accomplished!

here is nearly 15k of porn with plot, i think i could happily leave it as a one-shot but also have some ideas about turning this into a ficlet if that's something people are interested in. it's very nerve-wracking to post something for the first time, especially something like smut, but this community is just so incredible that i feel oddly very comfortable doing it! please sound off even though i'm not expecting a lot of feedback. i'd literally be jazzed if this thing even got 100 views.

Words: 14930, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren, Finn (Star Wars), Rose Tico, Kaydel Ko Connix, Poe Dameron, Amilyn Holdo, Snoke (Star Wars), Rey

Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Rey, Finn/Rose Tico

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Spies & Secret Agents, Badass Rey, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren Has Issues, First Order Poe Dameron, First Order Politics (Star Wars), The First Order Sucks, Minor Finn/Rose Tico, Rey is a bad bitch who don't play no games (usually), Kylo Ren is cocky and too hot, The Resistance is an underground spy network working to stabilize global politics, First Order are a bunch of mean wardogs, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Lust at First Sight, Kylo makes Rey a bumbling mess, Rey makes Kylo human, London, This Is STUPID, My First Smut, Porn With Plot, Alternate Universe - Politics

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2wl667W

[echo-inthevoid]

89- twice as bright

Lightless flame perhaps? Oh, maybe jon working on finding Jude? I still feel like there has GOT to be better people he could go to. Why not track done like... Gerard or mary kaey? I mean technically they're dead but weren't they both seen after that anyway? Maybe it wasn't marys skin they found and she faked her death for some reason. And Gerard has always seemed nice enough. Really quite willing to help even unasked. Or I mean Elias? You could at least maybe try sending an anonymous note and hope he doesn't beat your skull in? Ok, maybe not Elias. Idk there's got to be people who knew Gertrude. She didn't die so so long ago? Wouldn't someone have her contact list or something? You've got her computer, haven't you? Or hey! You could go visit that priest Michaels possessing (or did he die?) You could get in touch with Michael that way! I mean he has stabbed you a couple times but like... Hhhhhh. 

Ok maybe Jon's right but I still think this is a bad idea and he should keep figuring it out on his own. Or no. He should get help figuring it out but from Georgie and maybe his assistants/Melanie. Georgie seems smart and (even if she maybe judges him a bit) if he explains it all to her she might be able to help? Or at least be a voice of reason. 

Like it doesn't seem like there's so much of a time constraint this time? Nor any immediate need for panic. I mean you might be headed toward becoming non-human but you've been doing that for a while now apparently? what's the rush, jon? Anyway, let's start the episode. It's probably not even about Jude anyway...

As a side note, I am listening to like 10 episodes a day to try and catch up before s5 drops y'all. (At least that's the plan.)

Oh, sh*t ok. Weidbskjsmdnxjx we're just here ok he's alreadyfoundher?!?? How did he find her!??? 

What's happening? What sort of stupid jacket is jon wearing. 

What's she doing? Is she making it too hot? 

Ya. This is a bad idea... She does not sound exceptionally benevolent (and also Jon's ideas are never good).

what? Stop what? 

Nikola!

Ya don't eg her on jon. 

"Third-degree maybe?" Did jon just make a joke. Like a straight up pun! Akdhskhdkshs I think martin might have even caught that one. That was the most nervous little fire pun I've ever heard. I love it. 

Skdjsksj she's talking about the eye. 

Oh, so the fears don't like each other do they. Or at least the desolation doesn't care for the eye. Or maybe Jude just doesn't care for the eye. 

"An Archivist pleading for knowledge" skjdkdjd oh dear. She's not going to give him anything huh. Just see how long she can torture him with the possibility of it. 

Mmmm I'm sensing that maybe jon also came despite the obvious risk because he doesn't quite care if he comes back or not. And maybe even if he dies he can still learn something "for the next archivist" like he's been telling himself (but i suspect its more just for the eye. Considering how that line of argument only pops up when its convenient for gaining knowledge and is forgotten as soon as it goes against that goal. )

If so his mental state is... Worse than I had hoped. Which honestly is 100% accurate especially considering he wasn't at like peak mental health beforehand anyway. 

GET THIS BOY A THERAPIST!!

FOR ELIAS???? 

Oh, he was compelling her!????? He can do that already!! 

"The audience is only safe when the story isn't about them" Mmmmm thatsa good line. 

Oh no oh no. I don't think she's going to tell him anything helpful. 

Or...not??

"Let yourself burn" that... Literally used to be a motto of mine (turns out not a very healthy one but I digress) I don't think i understand the lightless flame quite as well as others but i do get that.

"My girlfriend saw it" ok I don't like u Jude but :3

Jude × Agnes!!!? 

Agnes is just magnetic huh. 

Ok, so there are lots of avatars? Or... Are there lots of followers with some powers and avatars are especially powerful. 

Kshdkdjd 

Oh? She's being helpful? 

Oh no. Nonono dont do it. She compared that to badthingsearlierdontdoitnonono

DBSJSHSHNSJSHDHSHEISJSBDHJDJDKASBDKSJAKHD

WHYDIDYOUDOTHATYOUIDIOTSHELITERALLYEQUATEDTHATTOSLAUGHTERINGALAMBEARLIER

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasksskskdksknsksjsksjsjdjfks. 

This isn't even the finale yet??? ;-; oh dear...

[just-another-voltron-account]

Allura, Post S8

So, season 8 was more open-ended than everyone realized.

Because, y'know, Klance can be canon after the end and stuff, but also Allura kinda... got absorbed into the universe.

So, my headcanon/theory is that Allura goes around fixing every reality with Honerva.

(prepare for the klance)

One thing she notices when she's going from reality to reality is that in more than 75% of realities, Lance is dating Keith and never went on a date with Allura in the first place.

Another thing she notices is in most realities, Lotor never died and Allura gave him a second chance (which always goes great).

The last thing she notices is that... in all realities she is there. She is the only one where she left, in all others she's alive and with either Lotor or Romelle (in cases where Lotor is still dead, she gets with Romelle).

So, this is sad. She's the only one who left, and the only one that got with Lance (give or take two or three realities).

Eventually, all the realities are repaired to their former glory, and Allura and Honerva's work is done.

So? They both find Allura's statue and return to their reality, and this also happens to be the anniversary of the day they had left.

Coran sees them first.

Coran: Do my eyes deceive me?

Lance: *looking where Coran is looking* what are you talking about-

Lance: ALLURA?!

Lance runs up to her and envelops her in a huge hug, while the others slowly start walking towards them, shock still stained on their faces.

And on Keith's, slight disappointment.

He hates himself for it. He's selfish enough to wish someone was dead so he could be with Lance, but really, it wouldn't make Lance happy. And it's his happiness that really matters.

Allura softly smiles as everyone else starts to run and envelop her in a huge group hug, and rumor says Shiro shed a few tears.

After they finish their hug, she's faced with a thousand questions, and all she does is softly smile.

Allura: We repaired all realities so we could return. And, in order to keep your current pathway, we're not allowed to give any extra information.

Honerva: Hello Paladins and Atlas captain, I hope to truly express how sorry I am. I hope that you will give me a second chance.

Everyone looks at each other and shrugs, since she fixed her damage a second chance isn't the worst idea.

Unless you're Lance.

Keith is the only one who seems to notice the glare he's pointed at Honerva. The former black/red paladin walks over to Lance and places a hand on his left shoulder and stares him right in the eyes, a soft look spread across his face.

Lance relaxes immediately, because he trusts Keith. And if Keith trust Honerva, so does he.

Allura notices the entire interaction, and starts beaming immediately for the hope that Lance moved on.

Allura: So, what happened while I was gone?

Shiro: I got married...

Keith: I'm in charge of the recovery efforts with the Blade for returning the universe to it's former glory.

Hunk: I've become a worldwide chef!

Pidge: I've been working with my family to make sure the universe is protected from future threats, and... a little side project.

Allura smiles at them all, glad that they've achieved so many things that are their dreams or their way of moving on. But that smile soon drops when she realizes Lance is silent, something very off from his extroverted personality.

Allura: And Lance...?

Lance: I... I've retreated to my family's farm so I can spend more time with them, and I've been spreading the message that you gave to everyone.

Allura: Anything...else?

Lance: That's it.

Allura's face falls instantly. That wasn't what Lance wanted when she first met him, what she hoped for him to achieve. He has so much potential for great things and sitting on a farm is not one of them.

Allura: Why?

Lance: What do you mean?

Allura: Your goals never resided in a small life on a farm. I know they rested with your family, and that much makes sense... But... I expected you to be doing your dream, like everyone else. Or reaching an achievement you've wanted, or even just finding happiness. You deserve that and you're living on a farm.

Lance: I...

Keith: Allura's right, Lance.

After Keith spoke up, everyone fell silent.

Lance knows he shouldn't be doing what he is, but without Allura, his life was in shambles and he couldn't function properly. Not like he used to, at least.

Keith speaks up again, his voice slightly shaky, knowing what he is going to say could... could change things. A lot. And while change is always scary, and he may lose those he loves with this, he knows it needs to be done.

Keith: You've always put Allura on some kind of pedestal, which... Isn't what you should do in a relationship. In a relationship, you're each others equals, and you help each other. You're there for each other, and you guide each other through life no matter how different your paths may be.

Keith: Lance, Allura, your relationship never was that.

Keith: Honestly, Lance, once you got with Allura your entire life changed. That's not supposed to happen. You were always following Allura around like a lost puppy, and honestly looking at that from an outside view was... Sad. Because in your mind, whether you want to admit it or not, you were never equals. I know if you let yourself believe that, you could be equals. You could be happy, and you could love HER and not the IDEA of her. But, you never did. Lance, I know you're better than this and I know I should've spoken about this sooner but... Lance, remember that you know exactly who you are, but who you are doesn't depend on the people around you entirely.

Everyone stared in silence, and Keith was trying not to cry. Keith power walked away with something that sounded like "dammit" mumbled underneath his breath.

Lance was completely stunned.

Although he didn't want to admit it, he knew Keith was right. But Allura is so perfect, and beautiful and strong. And she saw something in Lance that he couldn't see in himself-

wait.

Lance: He... He's right. I put you up high above me, Allura. You saw something in me that I couldn't see in myself, but... you never helped me understand it. You never taught me how to be better, even if you tried to. Keith is right, and I find it kind of pathetic when I look back on it. I'm sorry I... Was so stupid and naive. I should've figured myself out more before I went into a relationship with you... and even if we can fix it, I don't think I want to. I'm sorry.

Everyone watched as Lance walked away, in the direction Keith had gone.

When everyone looked at Allura, they saw a smile on her face, the equivalent of a mother proud of her son.

In that moment, everyone understood that Allura knows they never should've been together. They don't know if she always knew it, but they know she knows it now.

This is a part 1, I suppose? But like, idk if y'all would want a second part with strictly klance after this interaction or not and this was getting too long so... Comment if you want another part or whatever? But yeah. Here's my fix-it headcanons/theories, I suppose.

Edit: The second part is here!

[mayaparker]

@rydenbolt, @scarlettxruby & Maya meet up at the Autumn Festival and do so much needed catching up. 

Part I

Maya didn’t want to go home. She rarely wanted to go home these days. So instead, she and Hermes were wandering the festival for another night. She’d picked up a spiked hot chocolate earlier, but had yet to drink it. She didn’t feel much like drinking tonight. While lively, the festival wasn’t turning out to be quite the kind of party that let her take her mind off everything. “What do you think?” Maya asked the husky at her side, “Think we should blow this popsicle stand?”

“Yanno, ‘blow’ and 'popsicle’ totally fit t'gether in any sentence you say.” A familiar voice she probably hadn’t heard in a while answered instead of the dog her question was directed at. Ryden, a bottle of Guinness in hand, approached Maya with his usual sharp grin. They haven’t seen each other in a while - a fact that made Ryden feel strangely giddy when he recognized her from a distance and decided to say hello.

Maya wasn’t expecting Hermes to answer, of course. She was therefore a little surprised to hear any answer at all. She looked up to see Ryden approaching her, beer in hand. The smile that broke across her face was impossible to stop. She even huffed a laugh. But still in the back of her head alarm bells went off. Somehow Ryden always saw through her. Which meant he’d probably see through her attempts to be 'just fine, thanks’. But she had missed him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have your mind in the gutter,” Maya replied. Hermes, on the other hand, regarded the newcomer with suspicion and moved to stand between the two of them. She, though, didn’t even notice.

Ryden snorted in amusement as Maya scolded her dog for growling at him, letting the husky get a whiff of him just enough to remember the scent and stop being nervous about him before he stepped past Hermes to join Maya properly. “Yeah, I can see it. There are things he can do that I can’t. Like licking his own butt. Legit.” He bumped his beer bottle against her cup of hot chocolate. “Cheers.”

Having decided that while this person looked like those people Maya was afraid of, but didn’t smell like them, Hermes returned to Maya’s side. “Sounds like you’re just not applying yourself,” she teased. She knocked her glass with Ryden’s and returned his cheers. She took a sip. The drink was stronger than she’d expected, a fact which showed in her expression before she managed to council her expression. Trying to move past it, she asked, “How’ve you been?”

“Yer a bonnie lass, luv, but I ain’t gunna kiss me own arse for ya, sorry.” Ryden’s grin widened, having missed the banters they shared. Her face as she sipped on her hot chocolate got him laughing fondly at her. “Wha'choo put in there, yo? Nasty cough syrup? Ya look like yer about to retch."His smile faltered a little when she asked him how he’s been. It was strange to hear her ask that - they’ve grown so close lately that it felt odd to act like acquaintances who haven’t seen each other in a while. "Ahh, yanno me. I’m alright. Enjoyin’… whatever this is.” He glanced about, knowing that the festival is autumn related but not really his thing. He was just there for the music and drinks. “You?”

“So I’m hoping I’m going to do it or…?“ Maya teased again. Even in the dim half light, the mischievous sparkle in her eyes was easy to spot. Of course, he’d caught her reaction. "I was expecting whiskey and I got vodka. A lot of vodka,” she explained. She offered it up for him to taste too, to prove that she wasn’t overreacting. Someone had gone a bit heavy handed on the vodka. It didn’t escape Maya’s attention either the slight fade in his smile when she asked how he’d been. It was better this way, she tried to tell herself, them not seeing each other as often meant he wouldn’t feel like he had to save her from this cult nonsense. She could save herself. Even she didn’t really believe it. As far as an answer, she shrugged, “Can’t complain.” That much was true, but even to say she was fine wasn’t really true.

Ryden took the cup from her, tasting the chocolate with a shrug. “I see no problem with this.” Because honestly, he willingly drank much much worse before. Returning the cup to her, he hunched a little to peer into her face. “How about them worry lines ya got overnight? Can’t complain of those either?” He knew how Maya looked when well-rested and content. This was not it.

Maya stuck her tongue out. It wasn’t like she’d been exactly going easy on the drinking recently, but for a family friendly festival it was more vodka than she’d expected. And then there it was, the reason she hadn’t called or texted in awhile. She gave him a plaster smile, “I’m fine, Ryden.” She was lying. Usually, at this point, she would’ve used sex to try and distract him. Back in New York, it always did that trick. But she already knew that wouldn’t work here. Almost as if on cue, something in the corner of her eye snapped her attention to it. It wasn’t one of them. Her shoulders relaxed. She took a sip of her drink and refocused with a smile.

“Yer sayin’ my name. It ain’t good if yer sayin’ my name.” Eyebrow quirked, he watched her head spin around to glance at something only to decide it wasn’t whatever she thought it was. He took a long, careful sip off his beer, eyeing her suspiciously while he drank. Ryden wasn’t good at figuring complicated people out, but what he knew very well was how to read body language. Maya was on edge - it was so completely obvious that it poked him right in the eye. “So, what shit have ya gotten yerself into, hm? It ain’t drugs for sure. Ya don’t rob banks either. A bloke ya picked up for a while and can’t handle bein’ dropped? Or is it some supernatural, magic related shit?”

Maya shook her head, “I haven’t gotten myself into anything.” Technically true seeing as it wasn’t her fault this cult had decided she had some kind of destiny. She took a long drink from her cup. Maybe it would be better to get drunk tonight. “Certainly, not anything I can’t handle,” she added. Hermes whined, clearly disagreeing. Maya threw the husky an accusatory look as if he had betrayed her.

“Yeah, if ya could, what’s the backup doin’ here?” He pointed at the husky, just as he whined in protest. “Sledge pullin’ aside, why a guard dog?” He dropped by Maya’s place a couple of times when she wasn’t in to pick some stuff up. Her place still looked as safe as a place could get and there were no signs of anyone having broken in at any point. Ryden clicked his studded tongue against the roof of his mouth, draining the last of his beer. “Fine, ya won’t tell me. Yer choice. I ain’t gunna coddle ya into it. But ya should know that when yer in a situation, it’s a smart thing to ask for help. 'Nless I’m totally overreactin’ here but I don’t think I am cause, girl, the only person I know that’s got worse luck than you is me.”

Maya looked away from Ryden. He was right, of course. It wasn’t getting any worse, but it wasn’t getting any better either. As for his first two questions, she didn’t bother answering them. There wasn’t a way to do it without lying. Or worse, admitting she was terrified. She only brought her gaze back when he said the smart thing to do would be asking for help. She drained her own glass. “Yeah, and when’s the last time you asked for help?” she asked.

“Just cause I got stupid issues, don’t mean ya gotta jump off that bridge too,” Ryden snorted at her, with a hint of annoyance to his tone. He tossed the beer bottle side, then straightened the leather collar of his jacket. "I’m crashin’ at yer place for a while.” He declared like she got no choice in it.

“I can take care of myself,” Maya bumped her shoulder against Ryden’s, “Y'all don’t have to worry about me.” She couldn’t help her smile when he announced that he’d be crashing at hers for awhile. She should be annoyed and it would make it harder to pretend she was fine. But it made her feel safer. For a long moment, she looked around the festival, just observing. She wasn’t looking at him when she said, “I’ve missed you, you know.”

“No ya can’t. Ya suck at it big time,” Ryden bumped her shoulder back, a smirk back on his face. As if he were just waiting for that permission, he threw an arm around her shoulders when she confessed she’d missed him. His lips pressed against her temple and stayed there for a long moment, breathing out his relief. Unusually enough, he felt safe with her too - she was a brief, occasional escape from his own problems, a safe place he wasn’t finding anywhere else. Even though everything they had between them was built on promises to keep distance, it felt good to pretend with Maya that they were both fine and that everything was okay.

"Rude and uncalled for,” Maya managed to tease, “If somewhat true.” She was trying to prove just that to herself at the moment, that she could still take care of herself. As he threw an arm around her, she leaned into his warmth. Until this moment, she didn’t realize how long she’d been cold. Ignoring the bustle of the festival around them, they just stood there. Maya’s heartbeat slowed properly for the first time in weeks. “Can we just pretend?” she asked quietly, “Just for tonight that there’s no one chasing me and no one chasing you. That we’re just two normal people with normal people problems?”

Reluctantly, Ryden broke contact to look down at Maya, though he kept his arm around her, the fabric of her jacket cold against his palm. “Okay, so sumone’s chasin’ ya.” It wasn’t a question, but a conclusion, since she’d just confessed it. He squeezed her shoulders just a bit tighter when she asked him to pretend, at least for tonight. “Yeah, I guess we could do that. I’m into roleplay.” He huffed out a breathy chuckle.

Ruby was back at the festival with no real goal other than more churros and a LOT of beer. She held her sixth… or was it seventh… up to her mouth and finished it off before tossing the bottle into the trash. She had a lot on her mind recently, some of which was pretty confusing. Not necessarily in a bad way, but just in a way that required… a LOT of beer. She had headed back to the drinks stand when a familiar smell drifted towards her. Ruby turned her head and followed the scent, and when she saw who it was she grinned big enough to hurt. If he hadn’t been so long since she’d seen him, and she’d had less to drink, Ruby might’ve been more tactful. Especially since Maya hadn’t seen him in just as long. As it was, she merely ran in Ryden’s direction, giving barely a warning before launching herself at her friend in a what amounted to a tackle hug. “Oh my god… text a bitch once in awhile you loser…” she said, hugging him tight, oblivious to the serious conversation that had passed between the two.

Maya looked down when Ryden repeated what she’d admitted to. She brought her gaze back up with a genuine smile though when he agreed to pretend. A wicked grin curved her lips, even though the light hadn’t fully returned to eyes, “Oh? You should’ve told me…” Her sentence was cut off when someone jumped at Ryden. Immediately her brain went into fight or flight. But after half a second, her brain recognized Ruby and she relaxed a little. Hermes barked once, seeming to think that Ruby had agreed with his first impression of Ryden.

Good thing that Ryden’s wolfy sense got him to turn just in a nick of time to catch Ruby as she launched herself at him. “Holy fuck, ya got heavy, lass! Too many doughnuts?” He picked her off the ground, giving her a little spin. When he put her down, he was grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, naw, I don’t like you, didn’t ya git the message?” He teased, pinching her chin. Then his nose picked up the scent of alcohol on her. “Drunk ass bitch, don’t run when yer barely standin’..”

Ruby couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up as Ryden spun her around. She heard Hermes’ bark, smelled Maya’s familiar scent of cake and other things, and when Ryden sat her down, she tried not to wobble. “It’s the churros, not doughnuts,” Ruby grinned. She gave him a hard poke at the not liking her comment, tilting towards the touch to her chin with friendly affection. “I’d be standin’ fine if someone hadn’t spun me like a top.” She grinned at Maya. “I know you want him all to yourself, but you coulda texted me too lady.” She was teasing. Mostly.

Maya just smiled as Ryden spun Ruby around. She was safe here. Those cult kids would have to be crazy to kidnap her surrounded by people, especially when she was with two werewolves. Soon, she’d need another drink, but for now she was alright. As for Ruby’s comment, Maya raised an eyebrow, “Rude, first of all and second patently untrue. You know how well I love a threesome.” At the very least she liked that a drunk Ruby would, hopefully, distract Ryden from what was going on with Maya.

“I fuckin’ love churros,” Ryden confessed, then put his hands up to placate the situation. “Oi, girls, chill. Plenty of me for ya both. Don’t argue over it - shits up the mood.” He threw an arm over them both, him in the middle. “What are we drinkin’ t'night. Yer choice, Rubles, cause I ain’t lettin’ ya mix.”

“Yet still haven’t had one,” Ruby pointed out, booping Maya’s nose. “We should get more then,” Ruby said about churros. And beer. “I’ve had… beer. Lots of beer. Soo…. beer?”

Maya tilted her head, grinning wickedly. “I mean, I have had at least one. But that sounds like a challenge there Ruby.” She slung an arm around Ryden’s waist, seeing as it was the only part of him her arm could reasonably reach. “But yes to more drinks,” she added, “Although I’d like something a little harder than beer.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay, hold on. First of all, were ya talkin’ bout threesomes without me and second, what the fuck you two, ya hurt my feelings!” Which was, of course, not something Ryden was seriously considering but could always joke about. If he knew Maya and Ruby had a thing too, it would point his trail of thought in the right direction though. Directing them towards the alcohol stand, he grumbled. “Geez, ya both hella needy t'night. 'I want sumtin’ stronger, I want churros’.” His tone high pitched to ridicule their requests, Ryden chuckled, tightening the hold on his girls a little to keep the crowds they passed through from parting them.

“I mean… ain’t no party like a threesome party, right?” Ruby wrapped a hand around Ryden as well, humming thoughtfully as they walked. “Though I’m totally down to watch…” She was only partly joking. Given the right motivation - and the right amounts of alcohol - Ruby would totally put her voyeur kink into play. “How 'bout somethin’ stronger AND churros then?”

Maya laughed, “I’m sorry, but are you suggesting you wouldn’t want to fuck us both? We’re hot together.” She was still teasing. But it was also a distraction, a deflection from what she and Ryden had been talking about earlier. Plus she did know that they were both good in bed. As far as being needy, she only offered a shrug and, “Like five minutes ago you told me I was shit at taking care of myself and having to buy me something strong is what you get for rude comments like that.” She was teasing and deflecting again. But this time she was relying on Ruby’s drunkenness to keep them from getting too deep into it. Besides, it couldn’t be that big a deal if she could joke about it. Right?

“A'ight, so, ya two make up yer mind and keep me posted,” Ryden dropped those reins cause it was getting out of control and it amused him to no ends to find out where this discussion would end up at. But he had to point out the following to Maya. “Okay, so, me tellin’ ya you can’t take care of yerself calls for you to prove just HOW MUCH ya can’t take care of yerself? Hands down, ya got me there.”

Ruby snorted. “So needy tonight….” she grinned, repeated Ryden’s earlier tease back at him. But something else caught her ear too before she could make another threesome comment. “You can be pretty shit at takin’ care of yourself…” Ruby noted casually. “I mean usually you’re bombass… but come on… we practically got chased through a mirror house by one of those crazies just the other day.”

To say that Maya’s plan hadn’t gone like she expected would be an understatement. Later, much later, it would make her think about her life in New York and why anyone used to let her get away with deflections so obvious. She pulled her arm out to make a surrendering gesture, “Hey man, I’m just trying to get a free drink out of you.” Her expression blanked though when Ruby spoke. She hadn’t counted on that. But she gave an over-exaggerated smile, “But I’m still here. Thus, proving my point.” Instead of slipping her arm back around Ryden, she crossed them over her chest. She swallowed and glanced over her shoulder. It was fine. She could joke about it. She was fine.

Pursing his lips, Ryden was quiet for another moment, just to see if Maya would dig her own grave just a bit deeper. Seriously, this girl never learned. Whatever she was hiding, it was impossible that he’d never find out. Finally, he turned to Ruby. “Imagine that, she hadn’t told me yet, so do continue.” This was Ruby’s cue to share whatever Maya wouldn’t.

“Nothin’ else happened,” Ruby amended. “But there was this… guy. Watchin’ us. Even Hermes saw him. But then he was gone. Figured he was just some perv…” Ruby shrugged. “The three of us - Aedan was there too - made a run at the funhouse… guy followed us… nearly caught up to us in the mirror hall. Run as in we decided to try it out… not like we were… runnin’ from him or anything.” Ruby frowned, trying to remember that night. “We got out the emergency exit, locked the guy in… after that… we went home." 

"See, just some perv,” Maya replied. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder again. Still, there was no one there, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“Some perv who I’m pretty sure smelled like those cult fuckers that came to your house…” Ruby cut in. 

“Uh-huh…” Ryden might’ve had too many cogs punched out of him throughout his life, but when what was left had to turn, they turned fast and with a purpose. “A perv doesn’t follow a group of people. Ever. They’d single out a person when they’re alone. And even if this perv is infinitely stupid and gits his kicks from gettin’ caught, he could be after Ruby or that Irishman. Not you in particular. Ruby don’t seem bothered. You do, though.” Then Ruby added this little tidbit about a cult and Ryden’s frown deepened. “What kind of cult?”

Maya swallowed. She stopped walking, arms wrapped as tight around herself as they would go. Ryden was right and they all knew it. Some perv wouldn’t act like the guy that night had. She’d met enough of them to know. “I can take care of myself, okay? I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” she argued. She didn’t bother trying to argue that it wasn’t the cult or that they hadn’t been following her. At this point, it was useless. “Whether or not the two of you believe it, I’m not some damsel in distress who needs rescuing.”

“Of course yer fuckin’ not. No one’s actually sayin’ that. I’m a nosy prick and I want to mess up your shit and you can’t stop me, fuck you. I’m crashin’ at her place for a while, by the way.” Ryden informed Ruby on that last note.

Ruby wasn’t bothered as far her own safety was concerned. Perhaps that was foolish, but she could handle herself, and when she couldn’t, she’d learned to outright ask for help. She knew that Maya wasn’t one to do that though. And Ruby didn’t judge. She’d tried to get her friend to listen, and in Maya’s own way, she had. The charms on her apartment. Hermes. But denial didn’t help the situation. “Ain’t nobody said you can’t,” Ruby told Maya. “We also ain’t said you need rescuin’. But your goddamn prides gonna get you somewhere you can’t talk your way out of.” Ruby might’ve been a little drunk, but that only loosened her tongue. “Good. I tried to stay. She kicked me out,” Ruby said. Which wasn’t 100% the truth. Ruby had stayed awhile, until she knew Maya had fallen asleep. But Maya hadn’t wanted her to stay at all.

“I’m going home,” Maya announced. She immediately turned and started to walk away. Mostly, she didn’t want them to see her start to cry. She was so completely terrified that she didn’t know what else to do. Not of Ruby and Ryden of course, but of this cult and of the person she was when she was scared. Hermes followed at her heels with one hopeful look back at the werewolves.

“Sure, okay, whatever.” Ryden shrugged, trailing after Maya with his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Ya gunna hang? I know where she hides her vodka.” Ryden threw that over his shoulder at Ruby.

Maybe it was cruel to have seemingly ruined Maya’s night. But it wasn’t as if the subject hadn’t been brought up. Offhandedly or not. And it was only concern for her friend that had moved Ruby to speak. “Course I am,” Ruby said, following the others.