#and I guess that’s what people feel like it’s when they are trying to talk to me

[cassi-pokeblogging-hub]

Saying No

Okay so a conversation in a discord server inspired me to make this.

You guys can say no to things. You do not always have to "Yes And" everything that comes to you.

Like. Usually when we talk about rping, we talk about saying yes and. continuing on the scene, not shutting interaction down. We're pretty lucky with how this rp stuff works where in character denying and saying no CAN work a lot better than in standard improv without fully stopping the scene and kinda shutting it down, but that's not what I'm talking about.

I've seen a lot of people who kinda. Accidentally start god modding or kinda burst their way into plotlines without asking and like. This is public rp! Anyone can join! But there is a certain degree where you gotta stop first and ask or just not say it.

But sometimes people do not think first and just do. Maybe sending a magic anon that solves all of your oc's problems. Maybe they have dimension hopping powers and are like "Don't worry! I've come to your reality and I can help you get away from your problems instantly!", maybe your character really wants a mega stone and you have plans to have a whole thing about them working to get this mega stone and learning to mega evolving their partner and then someone mystery gifts or pelipper mails the item to you immediatly.

You don't have to "Yes, and" that. You can just say "No, you didn't do that". You are allowed to say no when someone crosses your boundaries and is affecting your plot.

Is someone trying to involve you in their plot without asking? "That is not happening in my character's universe" Is someone trying to say they're just there at a crucial event with your character when they never asked? "Your character is not able to be there. Please delete that post".

Yes And only goes so far. There is a time and a place where you will need to say No, and that is just as important to RP as going with the flow! If someone's fucking with your plot, its your job to tell them to stop. People can get involved, sure, but sometimes people try and get way more involved than what you're comfortable and its okay to tell them to back off.

I've also seen people feel that stuff like Muse Mixup Madness or Pelipper Mail are mandatory things they HAVE to do? You don't! You don't need to do anything even if others are! So I guess this is your reminder that you can ignore pelipper mail and magic anons and just asks in general that you dont like! you can turn pelipper mail and magic anons off completely! you can ignore peoples replies to your posts if they fuck with what you have going on. you can tell people they did not do things that would fuck with your characters and story. you can just not do muse mixup madness when it rolls around. you can just not do follower special events. you don't have to participate in anything you dont want, and you dont have to allow people to do whatever even if it makes you uncomfortable.

Other people can do what they want, but you have a right to say no when they try to involve you.

[betelgeuses-wife]

Hi there!! Could I request a sweet oneshot where the Reader cuddles with BJ, combing through his hair while he curls up with her? Romantic ship bordering on platonic would be lovely!! 🥰 thank you!!

If course! I'll do my best! I hope you like it. Please let me know feedback, it helps a lot!

-----

Creature Comforts

🪲🧃

-----

You weren't entirely sure what had gotten Bee in such a put-out mood but after this long, you refrained from trying to guess, it could've been for a number of reasons or just one, perhaps one that wouldn't seem much of a big deal to you but that was Bee for you. You were used to just giving him comfort when he asked for it because it wasn't too often when he wasn't his usual, theatrical self.

Adventures in Babysitting was playing on the TV while you both were on the couch, you were sat up with your legs resting on the footrest and Bee was laying with his head in your lap; a pillow under him. He seemed unusually quiet and you wondered what was on his mind, usually he'd have made some crude jokes about the lead actress by now. He'd have found a number of ways to try to make you laugh but it was radio silence on his end. With Bee's lack of personality showing, you were barely paying attention to the movie yourself but you weren't particularly in a bad mood, you just wanted to find a way to make Bee...well. Himself again. You knew people had their off days and you supposed ghosts did too.

You were running your fingers through his hair gently, not really even aware you were doing so until you caught a knot and heard Bee grumble.

A "Sorry...", whispered, slipped from your before pursed lips. Your gaze settling on Bee rather than the screen, now slightly more focused on gently getting the knot out without disturbing him more. Bee didn't often care about his appearance either, he'd rarely ask for help with his hair but he hadn't complained since he had come to rest his head in your lap about a half an hour ago. So, you figured he didn't hate it.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of snuggling up with him and taking advantage of the silence but in all honesty you wanted to just comfort him. There were a number of things that were left unspoken between the two of you, each of you held your own secrets about your dynamic. Perhaps denial was at play but at times, your flirtatious, playful moments you shared bordered closer to your feelings and wants for Bee than you'd care to admit. You stated you'd only let him be around so long as it was platonic and here you were questioning that.

"What's on ya mind, Sweets?" His gravelly voice pulled you from your thoughts. Perhaps your lack of detangling had earned his attention.

"I could ask you the same thing. You've been quiet too." Your eyes locked onto his as Bee had turned to look up at you.

"Just'a thinkin, s'all."

"Want to talk about it?"

"What. 'N' ruin your quiet time?"

"I'll take that as a no then. Want to cuddle...then?" Your voice softer, perhaps given the quiet, almost tender exchange of time you had shared over the last hour, it felt a little strange. Perhaps edging into romantic territory but you hid your thoughts as you felt Bee move to sit up.

"C'mere then" he offered as his arms hung open.

Your momentary worry about overstepping boundaries was washed away and you shifted over into his arms, sinking into his hold as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you a quick squeeze. He wasn't warm but it was still comforting. You knew how to compensate for the cons of him being a ghost. The house was always made warmer in the evenings during the colder seasons so you didn't notice the coldness of his touch, a hot water bottle also helped too. But having a cold body body hug helped in the summer. A welcomed feeling when you started to overheat. You found ways to adapt to what were issues before. Perhaps the fact you had embraced ways to make living together work had been the reason he trusted you, and you loved seeing his reaction to your ideas, you saw how he had felt seen, properly seen after decades of people wanting to just get rid of him.

You could feel as he relaxed, glancing up to see his eyes now on the screen, perhaps whatever had been troubling him had settled, he seemed more content with you in his arms. Maybe that was just your mind looking into it too much though. You weren't willing to say anything was for certain.

"Like what ya see, Tootz?"

"Shut up, Juice."

"Whatcha gunna do? Make me?"

You rolled your eyes as you watched him raised his eyebrows a few times and winked. You swatted his chest and turned back to the TV. But you were still aware of his hand on your lower back, rubbing it confortingly in small motions, something you often had needed after a long day but you supposed he had gotten so used to it that he was doing it without realising.

You hadn't really realised it until that moment but you had both slotted into living together quite well, and had learnt how best to comfort each other, even without knowingly doing so. You had him to come home to and he knew you'd always come back or let him know if you weren't. You both gave each other someone to rely on, at a time you both needed it. Perhaps that was the blessing the people before you saw as a curse.

[uhohdad]

THE GIRL WHO CONQUERED THE MOUNTAIN

KÖNIG X READER [HUNGER GAMES AU]

You & Konig have been chosen to participate in a twenty-four tribute fight to the death.

18+, NSFW, 144k WORD COUNT, AO3, Virgin!Konig, Outcast!Konig, 18yo!Konig, Protective!Konig, Mentor!JohnPrice, Fem!Reader, Blood & Injury, Graphic Violence, Death, PTSD, Alcohol Abuse, Slow Burn, Konig Pines Hard, Sexual Content, Porn with Too Much Plot, First Time, Dirty Talk, Size Kink, Smut, Fluff, Angst

CHAPTER ONE | PREV | CHAPTER NAVIGATION

➤ THE WARNING I

While you haven’t let go of him, you and Konig still haven’t shared a word since the dressing room. Savoring the short break on the ride to The President’s mansion, letting Ruby do all the talking as she coaches you on party etiquette.

Neither of you are listening.

You’re both worn out, fixated on your shoes, eyes hollow and thoughts a million miles away. Your headache is pounding, every last muscle in your body aches, and with each blink you have to fight to reopen your heavy eyelids.

It’s when you try to take the crown off your head that Ruby cuts through.

“No, no! What are you doing? Leave that on.”

“But-“

“Oh, no, young lady! The victors wear their crowns - You earned it!”

You release a weighty sigh, too tired to argue, and let your crowned head lull back on the luxurious leather seats.

Once you arrive at the mansion gates, Ruby stops you when you move to open the door, insisting you wait for an attendant to do it. You and Konig step from the limo linked at the elbows, and are immediately blinded in all directions by flashing, white lights.

What must be a hundred cameras snapping photos, Capitol elite overlapping in grating shouts.

You and Konig turn in on each other, raising your hands to block out the harsh flashes from all directions. Ruby skips over and gives you both a gentle shove on your backs.

“Well, go on you two!”

She lightly swats your bicep.

“And don’t cover your face! They’re taking pictures. You’re going to look ridiculous!”

You can hardly hear her over the buzz of the crowd, too busy trying to keep your heels planted on the red carpet and not on your tribute pedestal, deafened by the sound of Eleven’s snapping neck at each shutter of a camera lens.

You cling to Konig’s arm with both hands as you wobble on your heels through the golden gates of The President’s mansion, heart pounding in your chest, wide eyes catching a hundred cheering, smiling faces. You both flinch and draw in a sharp breath at the sound of an explosion, only to look up and see candy-colored fireworks sparkling in the shape of your names.

The President’s garden is so off-puttingly perfect, neatly sculpted hedges and bushes of roses, not a single leaf or petal wilted or brown. A large fountain sits in the center of the garden, the flow of water glowing with a rainbow of colors as they cascade to the shimmering pool below. Soft, twinkling lights seemingly float and bob in the air, casting a dim, ever-changing glow onto the guests. Paths designed with patterns of colorful river stones sidewind around the garden, and a stage hosts musicians, playing a triumphant song on your debut.

Konig’s eyes meet yours, both of you exchanging a look of hesitance as you’re led to the stairs up to the mansion, swarms of people lined up on either side of the riverstone path.

Every eye at this party is trained in your direction. You feel like you’re on display, a prey with hundreds of hungry eyes on you just waiting for their opportunity to pounce. As they clap and cheer loud enough to be heard miles away, Ruby guides you to the mansion’s marble stairs where she gives you a gentle shove and struts off.

Maybe you’d know what the hell is going on if you’d bothered to listen to Ruby in the limo, but you’re guessing you’re both to make your way to the balcony and meet The President, standing tall and towering over the party from his perch.

You cling to Konig’s bicep, keeping careful watch of your shaky heels with each step.

You give The President a weak smile with sloped brows as you near the top of the stairs, a shaky peace offering. The eyes that meet yours are unforgiving and entirely cancel out his perfect smile. You’re too weak to hold his gaze for long, watching yourself kick up your sparkly dress hem with every step instead.

You can still feel it, his stare. It’s burning your skin, piercing straight through to your core and melting your insides to a heavy sludge.

By the time you both make it to the top of the stairs, your legs have turned to gelatin and your muscles are trying to vibrate their way out of your skin.

A Capitol attendant extends an intricately-rimmed silver platter to you both, two long stem wine glasses filled with a yellowish, bubbling drink placed neatly in the center.

“Is this alcohol?” You whisper to the attendant, who gives a curt nod in response.

You and Konig gently pluck your glasses off the tray. You go to take a sip, but stop when the attendant widens his eyes and shakes his head at you.

The crowd laughs from down in the garden. Your head snaps to meet them, brows tight in confusion and cheeks flushing with heat.

Your eyes nervously flick to The President. His smile says amusement, but those dangerous eyes are flickering with a flame of pure hatred.

You swallow and look down to the floor as Konig’s arm sneaks around your waist with a tug into his side.

The music ends in a grandiose flourish, and in its absence you can hear a few straggling chatters and hushes from the guests down in the garden.

You flinch as The President’s slow but powerful words broadcast over the speakers.

“A toast. To a truly inspiring year of the Hunger Games.”

The crowd has their glasses raised, and you follow their lead as discreetly as possible, hoping anyone won’t notice you’re late to your cue or the shake in your fingers.

“And to two victors who beat all the odds, and overcame great adversity.”

The President’s stare flits in your direction without warning.

It reminds you of the snake from Price’s games, like you had thrown a fruit square into his neck, those sharp eyes narrowed and slicing straight through you. You’re worried he might just slither over and swallow you whole.

“May your dedication to each other remain unwavering.”

The crowd gives a one-note cheer, playing a symphony with their glasses, exchanging hundreds of clinks and tinks before collectively drinking. You follow their lead, the drink sloshing and bubbling furiously against the glass in your jittering hands.

The President’s eyes are still trained carefully on yours when he tilts his glass and sips his drink with his wrinkled lips.

His stare seems to paralyze you, you’re unable to look away, in shock from the gashes he left behind with his cutting eyes, your guts spilling out and filthying his pristine balcony.

You finally break the stare when the crowd laughs again, taking a strong gulp of air as you pull away your empty glass to wipe your lips with the back of your hand, smearing lipstick on your skin.

“What? What’d I do?” You ask.

Konig leans into you and speaks from the side of his lips, trying to keep his words discreet.

“I think you were just supposed to take a sip.”

You look down to the empty glass in your hands, and then to everyone else’s glasses, still bubbling with the yellowish drink.

You close your eyes and force a deep breath through your nose, fighting the urge to cover your burning face as you wish for this balcony to swallow you whole.

You can’t bring yourself to check in with The President, afraid you’ll once again be frozen under his surely displeased, no - loathsome stare.

The Capitol attendant has sensed you and Konig have absolutely no idea what’s going on, and wordlessly guides you both to make your way down to the garden once again.

So many stairs, such unsuitable shoes and dress hem. The only thing you can focus on is how terrified you are that you might fall face first down these elegant stairs in front of the entire country.

Oh, and of course, the eyes burning holes in the back of your head.

You take it out on Konig’s arm, your grip on him so tight your knuckles are shaking. It takes you both far too long to descend the marble stairs, but the crowd waits patiently with brilliant smiles and clapping hands.

As soon as your second heel makes contact with the garden’s riverstones, you’re surrounded.

Trapped by a blur of chests and pushing arms and touchy hands, the open air robbed from you and replaced with suffocating drunken breath. They’re ruthless, elbowing each other out of the way to get pictures with you both where you will surely look horrified and confused. There must be ten hands on you, hundreds of voices speaking to you at once.

Grabbing around your arms, your free hand, someone puts their hands on your hip and squeezes.

“Hey!”

You whip around, keeping your grip on Konig as you try to wiggle and shove your way from their hands, but as soon as you swat a pair away, another comes to replace it.

You catch sight of Konig, flinching at your side, trying to get away from much too adventurous touches and insistent questions. He’s trying to shake away the women clinging to his bicep and feeling up his chest.

The rage that engulfs you is instantaneous and red hot.

You bare grit teeth, elbowing to put yourself in front of him and shove away the outstretched hands reaching for him.

Konig’s arms close in on you, though, and with a stiff yank he pulls your front into his in an useless effort to hide you. You gasp and flinch into Konig’s chest when someone’s hand melds far too low on your back.

Before you can swivel to find the culprit, Konig’s arm whizzes over your shoulder, and Titan’s pulpy, caved-in face blinds you when he makes impact. You and the flock collectively gasp, followed by the sound of a body lifelessly collapsing onto the river stones.

Your eyes are screwed shut, trembling fingers clawing into Konig’s suit as Sapphire rips her own spear from your hands with her dead weight.

You snap.

Each flash of a camera, each grabbing hand, every grating voice a build-up of pressure in your skull until it explodes. There is no time for thought, your body moves without permission.

You snatch a long-stemmed wine glass from a guest’s hand, and duck to a squat to smash it against the river stones. As soon as the shards burst in all directions, the drink foaming and lapping up your dress, you’re on your feet to bring what remains of the jagged crystal to Titan’s throat - jabbing Sapphire’s bloody spear at him in threat. With heavy breath you hold your ground, swiveling on your feet and thrusting her spear at anyone who dares to near you.

The circle of heels and dress shoes finally begins to make room, gasps and shouts of horror from all directions. You think a few people have actually fainted.

You can make out Ruby’s shrills somewhere in the crowd.

“What on earth?! What happened?!”

You can see her hair bobbing as she excuses her way through the crowd, skidding on her heels to a stop when she breaks the growing clearing.

Her hand shoots up to her mouth as she eyes up the mess - shattered glass and an unconscious body lying in foaming drink.

“What did you do?!”

As soon as you lock on to her face, you suck in a sharp breath, your face transitioning from rage to horror.

You are not in the arena.

You are at the fanciest party in the country, being broadcasted live to all of Panem, attacking Capitol elite at The President’s mansion.

You choke on a squeak as you meet the silent crowd, staring on with gaped mouths and wide eyes. The wine glass stem is tossed from your hands as if it was burning you, a violent shake in your fingers and tears in your eyes.

You’ve been angry before, but nothing like this. Ever since you left the arena you feel like an rabid animal, teeth bared and relying purely on instinct.

Ruby sees your face, drained of color and mortified, and she forces herself to rid her shocked expression as she smooths two hands over the front of her dress.

Her glossy heels side step the puddle of drink and broken glass before she puts a gentle hand on both your shoulders, guiding you both to turn and walk.

“Excuse us, excuse us for a moment. Yes, yes, you’ll all get your photos, dears!” She says with her charming, bright white grin, ignoring the shocked faces and the humiliation you just know is burning her skin.

Every eye is trained on you, the guest’s murmurs to each other drowned out by the upbeat music.

Your entire body is shaking, face simmering with a nauseating heat as Ruby leads you along the pathways out of the garden, paraded in front of every last guest until you’re out of sight.

She’s trying to stuff it down, but the hysteria in Ruby’s hushed voice is certain.

“What is going on?!”

“They were - they were touching us,” You stammer.

“Of course they were! They want photos with you!”

Konig’s bicep hardens under your clammy palms when he crosses his arms over his chest.

“No touching,” He says, “Or we leave.”

“You can’t leave!” Ruby chirps, “This party is for you! Do you know how rude that would be?”

“As rude as grabbing her ass?” Konig grits.

Ruby’s pacing now, her heels clicking on the ground and her hands rubbing out her temples.

“As rude as downing your glass of champagne during The President’s toast?! As rude as attacking Capitol officials?!”

She shakes her head at you both in disbelief, her eyes wide with bewilderment.

“What has gotten into you two?!”

You sputter, your brows pinching and hands flinging out at your sides.

“We died, Ruby! That’s what happened! We died! And we killed! And you can’t just-”

You cut yourself off with a growl before continuing.

“You can’t just expect us to go back to normal!”

Ruby sticks a ring-adorned finger in the air, and the thick superiority in her voice immediately triggers your eyes to roll.

“May I remind you, the people at this party spent large sums of money to send you gifts, which kept you both alive in that arena.”

“I didn’t get anything from them,” You spit.

“Well, if it weren’t for them, Konig would not be alive - and I seem to recall him saving your life quite a few times.”

“I didn’t realize that meant we were giving them a pass to grope us,” Konig says.

“They’re just being friendly,” Ruby says with a dismissive wave, “You two are victors! The whole country wants a photo with you! And you two are acting like animals!”

Ouch.

“I guess that’s what happens when you’re treated like one,” You mumble, scraping pebbles under your heels.

Ruby sighs.

“Can you play nice for one evening? I told you you’re on strict orders! You’re going to give John a heart attack!”

Your brows immediately pinch, the hostility drained from your voice and replaced with confusion.

“Where is Price?”

You can’t help but feel a little abandoned. You’re certain if he was here this whole mess wouldn’t have happened.

“Oh, who knows,” Ruby dismisses with a roll of her eyes and a smack of her lips, “That brute is probably off drinking.”

Ruby launches into a rant about Price’s lack of respect, and you and Konig both take your opportunity to relish in another breather, prying the feeling of wandering, drunken Capitol hands from your unwilling bodies.

The open air is nice, a moment of respite, even. The air in the theatre was so stuffy, cycled through thousands of lungs and fried by stage lights. The air at the party, while open, is suffocating. Distorted and tight with grating voices and hundreds of prying eyes.

This air, the air outside the gates, - it’s resetting, crisp and begging for your attention. The breeze is soothing on your face and arms, almost painful as it passes through your nostrils with each crisp breath.

“Now can you please show an ounce of decorum?”

“We’ll show them as much decorum as they show us,” Konig says flatly.

You tilt your head up at him, and give his bicep a squeeze. He’s wearing those bored eyes, standing tall with his chest puffed out.

“You’re victors now,” Ruby tutts, “You have a standard to uphold! Please do not embarrass me any further!”

You just sigh.

Tired.

When the three of you return to the party, stiff and so clearly uncomfortable, your crown hangs low. You stare only at your dress hem dragging along the walkways.

The silver lining is everyone keeps their distance, whispering to each other and sneaking glances in your direction instead of crowding you both.

It’s humiliating, and you feel like there’s a spotlight on you, but at least you have free rein of the buffet.

And you are starving.

The food may just be the best thing that’s happened to you all day.

Wait, no - second best thing.

It smells so good.

There are too many dishes, there’s no possible way you’ll be able to taste them all, but it’s not going to stop you from trying. Creamy soups and meats draped in flavored, savory sauces, potatoes cooked in just about any way you can imagine, an entire table lined with only desserts, all of which look more like art to be admired than food to be devoured.

Oh, and the drinks.

You truly thought all booze tasted terrible, so the drinks they serve, fruity and sweet and barely tastes of alcohol, only makes you wonder why Price drinks whiskey.

You and Konig take your assigned seats just in front of The President’s mansion, giving him a perfect view of his aberrant victors.

There’s hundreds of circular tables, each one draped with a pristine, pure-white table cloth. A flame sits in the center of perfect centerpieces, and it must be a fake, because it’s ringed by flowers and a nest of twigs that sit far too close to the realistic flame.

It feels weird to be eating.

Too normal, too routine, so out of place after the nightmare you woke up from. You can’t help but feel like you’re not worthy of it. Like there’s twenty-two tributes sitting with you at this table, watching as you gorge yourself with their lifeless eyes and empty plates.

You push through it.

It helps that the food tastes too tempting for you to convince yourself to put your fork down.

The silence has continued between you and Konig as you eat, too tired, too guilty, too raw to talk. Your chairs could not be closer, though, your thighs flush together and arms bumping as you eat.

You sneak glances at him from your peripheral throughout your meal, and it hurts. Everytime you look at him, it is a new reminder of the horrors - gruesome kills and sacrificial deaths.

It doesn’t hurt to rest your head on his bicep once your stomach is bursting at the seams, though.

Mauve joins you three at some point, and aside from Mauve’s gushing paired with plenty of cheek kisses, and Ruby’s pointers on table etiquette paired with light swats, you couldn’t repeat a single thing either of them said if you tried.

The booze is making you sleepy, drowsy eyelids fluttering shut as you embrace the cozy warmth the alcohol brings to your skin. You give in to its whim, using Konig’s arm as a pillow and forcing yourself to only think of the music and the scents of extravagant dishes.

The atmosphere of the party has lightened by time you’ve both finished eating, the drinks coursing through the guest’s veins and rowdy conversation lending you both a hand.

As the guests get drunker, the more courage they have to near, and one of them finally breaks the barrier and asks for a photo with you both.

When not greeted with punches and shards of glass, the others steadily trickle over with caution, until you’re both swarmed once again.

With every snap of a photo, you have to stifle the image of the boy from eleven. His lifeless eyes stare back at you from the center of each bright white flash, every shutter of the camera lens slurred into the sound of a broken neck.

Your already forced, uncomfortable smile becomes more warped with each photo, and you’re sure you’re yawning in at least ten percent of them.

Konig doesn’t make any effort to keep up appearances. He stares forward, features hardening as the night drags on. He can’t seem to hide his rightful disdain, eyes projecting hatred and superiority. Like everyone at this party is beneath him.

The first person that dared to put their hand on your shoulder made you flinch and instinctively pull away under their hand, launching back into Konig’s instinctive brace as you face the culprit.

And of course, it’s just about the oldest woman you’ve ever seen, hunched at the back and walking on a cane. Capitol elite or no, she immediately evokes pity, and then guilt. It was surely an innocent and functional touch, and the look of embarrassment on the little old lady’s face burns your face with a matching shame.

“No, no,” You assure her, “I’m sorry, just scared me.”

She gives a laugh, showing her perfect, pearly white teeth. Not a single one of her teeth is rotted, missing, or even the slightest bit brown. You can’t help the way your head shakes in confusion, because you’ve never seen an old person with perfect teeth before. Not a whole lot in District Nine can even live long enough to reach the definition of elderly, let alone do so while maintaining perfect teeth.

The old woman puts her fingertips just under her collarbones.

“Oh, my, can you imagine? A little thing like me?”

You can’t find it in you to laugh with her, only able to conjure a weak smile and faint nod.

These people are so out of touch.

After what you just went through, you’d be startled by the blow of the wind. They’re not treating you like someone who lived the past week as prey, entirely glossing over the fact that your two hands have ended lives, that you’ve just woken up from being dead.

And it coming from just the seemingly innocent, tiny, crippled old lady just makes it all the more eerie.

You’re not supposed to be wiser than someone four times your age, but you can’t help but feel as if you are.

Once everyone sees the little old lady get away with touching the victors without getting knocked unconscious or threatened with broken glass, it’s free reign, and the drunker the guests get, the touchier they get.

They don’t seem to notice your discomfort or annoyance, and the only thing keeping you both from wigging out is Ruby, smiling proudly as she sips her drinks and accepts her congratulations a few feet away. And of course, The President, who you can’t see, but know is watching.

You can’t help but feel like you owe it to Ruby, too. Her very first victors. She’s probably been dreaming of this moment her entire career, and year after year of watching her kids die, maybe she should get to enjoy her moment without dealing with insolence and embarrassment. Especially after she gave you her fancy locket.

So you suck it up.

For hours you deal with the hands on your shoulders, on your back, smoothing over your arms and grabbing your hands.

The hardest part is watching Konig get the same treatment.

In most every photo since the little old lady, your stares are focused on each other, faces twisted as you watch each other get felt up.

It’s when someone other than Mauve or Ruby finds it appropriate to kiss you on the cheek that Konig’s fingernails start to dig into your skin hard enough to make you hiss, your interlocked fists trembling with his rage.

He’s about to lose it again.

“Ruby?! Breather!”

Ruby’s brows pinch, a slight confused jerk of her head as she rips her focus from her conversation.

After a moment you add a stiff, “Please.”

It takes her a moment for it to click.

”Oh, oh! Yes!”

She excuses herself from her conversation, sets down her drink, and waves the crowd away in her standard pushy-but-polite fashion, assuring them they will get their photos, just not now, dears!

When it’s just the three of you, Ruby gives you a proud smile and a nod. Maybe for asking instead of exploding, maybe because you actually used the word, ‘please’ for once, or maybe it’s just because you made her the escort of a victor.

“Oh, my victors,” She hums.

You actually smile a little when you notice it.

Ruby’s drunk.

She’s got a slight sway in her upper half, her cheeks are flushed rosen, and her smile is wider than ever.

It’s incredibly endearing, but Konig does not find it so.

His stance is wide, arms crossed over his chest, and the bicep you cling to is entirely tensed. You give him a squeeze, but he can’t seem to meet your gaze, his half-lidded eyes staring off into the distance. His hand does shift on his own arm to graze a finger over your knuckles, but it only soothes the sting a little.

You know your face is a reminder of the horrors he just went through, and the thought makes your throat swell and ache. As you look down and attempt to swallow the thought away, tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

He’s right here, you’re clinging to him, you went through it together, you are together.

But you feel so alone.

Konig’s head tilts towards the ground, and he speaks through grit teeth as he scrapes the sole of his glossy dress shoes on the river rocks.

“Did you see them?”

You perk up, an instantaneous wave of relief washing over you.

Even better that it’s trash talk.

“They’re awful, I wish they’d just stop-“

”No,” He cuts, “On their wrists.”

Your brows furrow as you wait for explanation, but he gives none, continuing to avoid your stare.

You carefully look to the guests, and once you notice one, the others practically scream for your attention. More people are wearing them than not.

Your ribbon.

For a solid five seconds, you stare blankly, bouncing around from wrist to wrist. A momentary calm as you process what the fuck you’re seeing.

That is your ribbon.

You earned that ribbon.

It was your gift.

It was your token to the love of your life.

Turning your gruesome kill, Willow’s suffering, and your parting suicide token into a fashion statement!

You are literally shaking with rage, tears of frustration well in your eyes and threaten to spill over your exaggerated lashes.

When you realize you’ve been holding your breath for far too long, you push a long exhale through parted lips.

You wonder if maybe it’s a good thing. If the ribbons spread far and wide mean that Willow’s pain will not go forgotten. Maybe her suffering is acknowledged through these ribbons.

You know that’s not what it means to them.

But you’re too tired to be angry.

“You have the original anyway,” You croak with a shrug, “That’s all that matters.”

While Konig doesn’t turn his head, he does look at you from the corner of his eye.

After a beat, he lets go of a heavy breath, his arms untensing under your touch.

“You know,” Ruby sings, leaning forward a little too far before she whispers her secret, “If you don’t dance at these things, people will talk.”

Without really meaning to, you adopt a patronizing but soft tone while speaking with her. That of a parent trying to gently let down a child who wants to play outside in the dead of winter.

“We’re not really in the mood for dancing, Ruby.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be good dancing!”

She smiles mischievously and gives a sloppy wink.

You wear a weary smile, another scoff behind your closed grin.

“I don’t think we’re in the mood for bad dancing, either.”

“No, no! Can’t have that! The victors always dance! I’ll show you!”

”Maybe later,” You say.

”Definitely later!” She beams.

She then raises her brows at you both.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this-“

She looks over her shoulder to make sure no one’s listening in on her scandalous advice.

“But the drinks help!”

She bursts into laughter, and when you look at Konig, he looks back.

You didn’t realize how cold your chest was until it floods with a sickeningly sweet warmth. He gives a soft roll of those comforting blue eyes, but your favorite is the grin he bites back.

You’re actually eager to follow Ruby’s advice for once.

You hardly have to move, as soon as you lock eyes with a Capitol attendant they step over to you, a tray of drinks in hand. It’s one of the sweet drinks you tried earlier, and as you take a glass you can’t help but ask - hoping you’ll never have to deal with the repulsive taste of whiskey ever again.

“Hey, what is this stuff?”

The attendant's brows raise, and she transfers her tray to one hand to bring a finger to her lips.

“Secret?” You ask.

Konig gently nudges you with his elbow.

“What?”

His lips are twisted when you meet his face, and after studying the woman for a few moments longer, the realization hits with a heatwave of embarrassment.

“Oh. Oh!” You give a nervous laugh at yourself, “I’m so- I’m sorry, I’m a little-”

You cut yourself off, the hand raised to your forehead begging her for grace. The attendant gives a polite curtsy before scurrying off.

You lean into Konig’s, quieting your voice as your eyes pick out the various attendants in their white and black uniforms, doting on guests.

“Are all of them-?”

Your question trails off.

“I think so,” He says.

“This place is fucking insane. It’s insane. I feel like I’m in- I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“They’re despicable,” he says.

As your eyes dart around, you can’t help but wonder if one of the attendants is the girlfriend of the boy from eight.

You shake away the thought as quickly as you can, but she lingers.

Does she hate you?

She must.

You’re the girl who foiled her boyfriend’s revenge plan, the girl that led a pack of bloodthirsty careers straight to the love of her life.

You try to imagine what it must be like for her - forced to serve the Capitol elite day in and day out, knowing her boyfriend’s back home, but having no way to reach him.

If it had been you - taken away for speaking out about the Capitol, knowing Konig is back in District Nine, but having no way to check on him.

And then to see him for the first time, the boy you broke by leaving, so clearly unwell, lurching forward to volunteer in the games and hellbent on getting gory revenge against the girl that ratted you out.

You have to stop the thought there, it’s making you sick to your stomach, and you find your grip around Konig has turned deathly.

That girl, wherever she is, wins the suffering game.

The drink goes down quickly, and as soon as your glass is empty, an attendant rushes over to take your glass and offer a replacement.

It’s welcomed.

Between sips, you rest your weary head on Konig’s bicep and close your tired eyes.

“I want to go home,” You whine into his arm.

“It’ll be over soon.”

He says this with a reassuring kiss on the forehead, but his hoarse tone betrays him.

“I wish we could be alone,” You whisper.

After a few moments of consideration, his grip tightens on you.

“Want to sneak away?” He asks.

You whip around to face him, looking up to find a goading raised brow and a faint, sly grin.

“Yeah?” You ask.

“Ja,” He says.

Those pretty blue eyes are sparkling with a glint of determined mischief that you couldn’t resist if you tried.

“Okay,” You say.

It’s an incredibly arduous task to sneak away.

Every few feet must be earned by a new wave of introductions, photos, and grabbing hands.

One woman pinches your cheeks, and you’re just thankful it’s the ones on your face.

“Oh, you really are just the cutest thing! I don’t usually, well, you know, but I’d make an exception for you!”

“Hey,” A nervous laugh crosses your lips, “What?”

She just laughs, the pungent smell of alcohol on his breath.

“Such a feisty little thing,” She chimes with a wink, her form swallowed by the crowd before you can get an explanation.

“Did she just make a pass at me?”

You shoot a look at Konig, but he’s too busy trying to placate a gaggle of elite gushing over his size. Hands reaching out to touch his chest, arms, shoulders.

What’d you like to do is start dishing out black eyes, but the booze, and of course, Ruby’s pride, make it easier to be semi-agreeable.

“Alright,” You say with a playful wave, “Step back, he’s already spoken for.”

This is a somewhat effective approach, because the guests seem to adore your ‘joke,’ and plently oblige with their rowdy laughter.

It doesn’t seem to discourage whoever is taking their turn with a picture, though. As if taking a photo gives them a pass to grope you.

When you both finally manage to shuffle your way over to a maid’s closet, you have to wait patiently to cycle through more photos, congratulations, and drunken introductions before there’s a lull.

You’re just about to throw in the towel on the whole thing before the perfect moment arrives for you to both awkwardly slip into the maid’s closet.

When the door shuts behind you, the music and rowdy party chatter muffled the moment it clicks shut, you find you’re nervous to be alone with him. Butterflies in your stomach and a shaky laugh on your lips. Your hands fidget in front of your core, and it’s difficult to make eye contact with him.

He nears with slow, daunting steps, each one making your heart beat a little faster. His hands caress down the sides of your abrasive, sparkly dress to find their home on your waist.

For a moment he studies you with a look in his eyes that you can hardly decipher, an intense stare that pulls a glow to your cheeks and turns your thoughts obsolete. His fingers tighten on your sides as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a long, lingering kiss. Your heart is both pounding furiously in your chest and ablaze with a cozy warmth that blooms throughout your torso and trickles down your limbs.

And suddenly you’re not thinking about the horrors. You’re only thinking about the prick of his stubble on your skin, the strong hands on your waist holding you close, the hint of alcohol on his breath, the vibration of his low hum on your lips.

With little warning, his hands slide down the curve of your hips to the back of your thighs. He scoops you up without so much a grunt of resistance, awkwardly bunching your dress in the front and resting your inner thighs on his waist.

He doesn’t break the kiss even when you gasp into his mouth. He deepens it instead, keeping you firmly on his front with one hand and another pressed to the back of your neck to keep you from losing focus.

He rests your back against the wall, and with a tilt of his head, his eager tongue intertwines with yours. The grip on your thighs is assured, his fingers indenting the soft flesh beneath the scratchy dress.

He pulls away for a moment, his lips inches away and pretty blue eyes staring straight into yours.

“All mine,” He says, low and breathy.

“All yours.”

The front of Konig’s suit pants rock against your front through the layers of your bunched dress, forcing a hitched, breathy sputter from you. You find your nails are digging into the lapel of his suit and tugging him close without thought.

There is little time to react between the jiggle of the doorknob and the door opening, looking over Konig’s shoulder to find Price slinking into the gap just big enough for him to sidestep into the storage closet, wasting no time as steps over to you both.

Konig immediately lets go of the back of your thighs and raises his palms in surrender, backing away from you the moment your heels find the floor with a huff.

You and Konig speak at the same time.

“I didn’t - ”

“Can we have five minutes of privacy?”

“No,” Price says sharply, seemingly not fazed at the display of canoodling he walked in on.

“Where have you been? These people-“

Price ignores you, boring into Konig with stern eyes and pinched brows.

“Did you really knock out a Capitol official?”

Konig shrugs.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you have any idea the amount of work you just gave me?”

Price’s voice is rising, but Konig doesn’t buckle.

“He grabbed her ass,” He says flatly.

Price winces, and for a moment you can see his face go through a range of emotions as he tosses a thought around. He groans, grumbling something at the ceiling before he turns to you, his voice urgent.

“They’re already not happy with you. And you being disrespectful at the interview, at this party - is not helping!”

You go to speak, but Price raises a finger to silence you. His words pour out quickly but as clear as crystal. Intense, careful eyes take turns between holding either of your stares.

“You didn’t play their game, you didn’t follow their rules, and you used their arena like it was a fucking playground.”

“So what?”

Price grumbles again, his shoulders tossing in annoyance.

“You took what was supposed to be a punishment for rebellion - and had fun instead. Get me? Your deaths meant something more than just losing a bet to these people. People aren’t supposed to root for breaking the rules, but they saw you as more than tributes.You were way too human, and Capitol folk are starting to see you for what you are.”

Price shrugs, his voice going soft for just a moment.

“As kids.”

He draws a long sigh and rubs out his beard.

“It probably would have been fine if Romeo took the hit, but you,” Price points his finger at you, “Of course you always have to have the last fucking word. The way they see it, you might as well have spit on the games themselves by opting out of victorhood.”

“You're saying it would have been better if Konig died?”

“No!”

Price grunts in exasperation, his muscles tensing, literally fighting back his annoyance.

“What I’m saying is - the rule is that there is one victor. And two outer district kids finding the loophole, breaking that one rule by rejecting their offer, and getting away with it? Well, how do you think they feel about it?”

“You know what?” You start, “If they didn’t want human, maybe they should have fought roosters instead. And I’m tired of everyone pretending like winning the games is some - “

Price barks your name, and it stuns you in the form of a choke, catching in the back of your throat and fighting you when you try to swallow it.

“This is serious,” He hisses, “Two outer district kids aren’t supposed to be above the rules. You think they wanted to pull you both out of there?”

Price snaps his fingers three times in rapid succession.

“They wanted to let you both die, hear me? You both are a spitting distance away from being rebels as it is - and you telling Caesar to go fuck himself, knocking out officials - “

Price cuts himself off with another frustrated grunt.

“This would have been nice to know sooner,” You mumble, rubbing out your bicep in hopes to relieve the nauseating unease creeping over you.

“This is the first time we’ve been alone and off tape since you both entered that arena. Do you have any idea what this week has been like for me? And you two-”

“For you?!” You snap, “We died!”

“And who do you think brought you back to life?!” Price hisses at you.

“I didn’t ask for that!”

“I remember someone asking me to save Romeo.”

Price jams his thumb in Konig’s direction, and while you blow a huff of air in dismissal, you both know he’s right.

“Isn’t this a good thing?” Konig asks, “If people are seeing the tributes differently?”

“Yes,” Price answers.

Your brows furrow, and Price gives a forced, mocking grin.

“That’s the problem. So do me a favor-“

His tone suggests it’s not a favor, but a demand, and with each sentence his frustration thickens.

“You go out there. You play their game. And you behave!”

You can’t pin why, but the hissed ‘behave’ makes you flinch. Your shoulders tense, your fingers adopt a sudden shake, and blood rushes to your ears in one instantaneous whoosh.

Price sighs, and his eyes find the floor. A hand comes up to his forehead before smoothing over his hair, rubbing out the back of his head.

When he speaks again, his voice is soft.

“One more thing,” He says, “I don’t want to worry you both, but the - ”

Price sucks in a breath, his next word riding a heavy exhale, “Tape.”

“Tape?”

“The tape,” He repeats, “Of you two, uh-“

Price clears his throat and looks away.

“Got it,” You say.

“Well, it-“

He lets out an exasperated grunt.

“It’s popular.”

Both you and Konig share a hesitant glance.

“The, uhm-“

Price can’t make eye contact, can hardly get the words out.

“Look, it’s been passed around.”

“What?” You sputter, “But that- that’s-“

“It’s not like these people have ever been moral.”

Price clears his throat again, and he can’t seem to stand still in his spot, restless in the way you’ve only ever seen him the night before the games.

“So everyone at this party has seen us fuck?!”

“Well, not everyone,” Price mutters.

Your burning face warps under the forceful pinch of your own hand.

“I don’t need this, I really don’t need this right now.”

“There’s a lot that you kids don’t know. And- and I’m hoping they’ll cut you some slack, considering the circumstances.”

Price gestures between you and Konig.

He sees both of your blatant confusion, and another sigh leaves his lips. He looks over his shoulder at the door before finding you both.

“The victors have always been,” He pauses, his eyebrows raising, “Desired.”

“Desired?”

“Desired,” He repeats.

“They want to fuck us?”

Price smacks his lips, his voice lowering.

“They don’t want to fuck us, they do fuck us, you understand?”

You really don’t.

“It’s not like you have much of a choice. The payment is just,” He thinks for a moment, “A bonus, get me?”

It takes you a moment to digest this.

As it dawns on you, you squeeze Konig’s arm a little tighter, and make a baby sidestep to close what little distance there is between you.

“And that tape only got them - More excited.”

The thought of someone forcing prostitution on Konig, the thought of Konig fucking some rich Capitol -

You are at risk of throwing up again.

“So it is crucial that you do - Exactly. What. I. Say. You understand? If we play our cards right, I think I can get you both off the hook.”

His loose wrist swirls in front of you, gesturing between you and Konig.

“The whole - romance thing.”

You nod, and shift on your feet as your eyes find the floor.

Price sighs, a palm covering his forehead.

“I’m sorry, kids, I really am. It’s all bullshit, I know it. But I am trying my best.”

Your brows furrow, and the strain in his voice seems to be contagious.

“I know. Thank you.”

He nods slow, face more than weary, his eyes pinching closed for a moment.

“Now, please - I am begging you both to be good. Don’t make this any harder on me than it already is. Please?”

Price is throwing all sorts of curve balls at you today. Price does not call you by your name. Price does not beg. Price orders.

You give a shaky nod, and find you’re digging into Konig’s arm so tight your knuckles are turning white.

“You’ve got two minutes. Make ‘em count.”

Price turns on his feet, heading for the door. Without looking back, he waves a hand at you both over his shoulder.

“And don’t make me come back in here and drag you both back out. I got enough of a show last time.”

As soon as the door closes behind Price, you and Konig face each other.

His hands find your biceps, sliding down your arms until he tightens his hold around your forearms.

“I won’t let them,” He says, “I won’t let them.”

You nod, quick and assured, your hands gripping his forearms in return.

“I know. I know. I won’t let them either.”

You pull each other into a deathly tight embrace that you’re sure would have lasted the entire two minutes, but it’s interrupted by the door opening again, this time much less gentle. The doorknob crashes into the wall hard enough you both jump, holding each other tight at your sides.

At once you’re both blinded by flashing, white lights, ears assaulted with the sound of camera lenses shuttering and the rowdy chatter of the Capitol folk, squeals and shouts overlapping in a nauseating chorus. You have to pinch your eyes shut, teeth grit, arms raised to shield your eyes.

Blinding sun.

Pure white snow at your feet.

The sound of a broken neck in your ears and Eleven’s lifeless eyes staring at nothing and right at you all at once.

You cling to Konig’s suit, fingers shaking as you bury your face into his chest.

A sharp whistle commands attention, Price’s sturdy arms forcing his way through the crowd, extended at his sides and forcing them away from the door.

“Alright, alright, back it up! Nothing to see.”

He whistles again, and you know that’s your cue to wriggle through the part in the crowd. Both you and Konig hold each other tight as you run, run like you’re ripping through the trees of the fall forest, branches tearing into your skin to escape the gory slaughter, to escape from the boy you love after he killed for you.

Your face is burning, flushed with humiliation and fear, breaths heaving and your pulse pounding against your temples.

“How much longer? How much longer?” You ask Konig, as if he knows the answer.

“I know, I know,” He says, “It’s okay.”

It’s starting to feel like this party will never end.

It’s your hell, your punishment for killing and dying and stealing someone else’s victory. Trapped in this shameless extravagant world with people who don’t get it.

Konig positions himself behind you once you’re steady on your feet, and drapes his arms around your collarbones. He hunches over to rest his chin on your head, and puts a bit of his weight on you.

Just a little.

It’s weirdly soothing. Grounding, something to focus on. After a few minutes you begin to trace little hearts on his suit jacket sleeves as you cling to his forearm.

Throughout the embrace he leaves periodic kisses on the top of your head, and you both ignore the guests not-so-sneaky sneaky photos.

“All mine,” He whispers.

“All yours,” You whisper back.

You stand like this for a while, mostly thinking about how bad your feet hurt, the ache starting to travel up your ankles in an all too familiar fashion.

You’re seriously considering ditching your heels.

Your dress is so long, they surely won’t notice if you walk around barefoot.

“Time to dance!” Ruby chimes from behind you.

You groan as Konig stands straight, his hands finding your shoulders instead.

Ruby gives you both little choice, pushy-but-politely ushering you both to the space in front of the live band, which is unfortunate, because what you crave most right now is some peace and quiet. To her credit, though, she keeps you at the edge of the crowd on the dance floor. The last thing you want right now is to be surrounded.

“It’s easy!”

Ruby is touchy with her demonstration, but you don’t mind it as much as you do the rest of the guests and their touching. You know it’s innocent, and it’s hard to say no to her in this state. Coming from her specifically - her acting like everything is fine is making it a bit easier to pretend like it is, which is weird, because usually her ignorance is nothing but grating.

She takes your hand and practically slaps it on Konig’s shoulder, and guides him by the wrist to put his hand on your waist. She circles you, and on the other side, she prompts you to intertwine your fingers.

“And now you sway.”

“No, no, don't bend, stand straight and use your whole body!”

“I thought it was allowed to be bad dancing,” Konig mumbles.

“Graceful bad dancing,” She corrects.

And so you sway, rolling your eyes and shaking your heads at each other, because this is ridiculous. Dancing after what you just went through just to appease these abhorrent people.

You’re glad he’s connecting with you again, at least. Sharing in the hatred.

And it’s not the worst.

Getting to look at him and not think of what has happened, soaking him in and feeling his touch under your fingers.

At one point you close the distance, resting your head on his chest instead, his silken tie on your cheek. You wrap your arms around him in an embrace, and in return he holds you tight.

You close your eyes and take another break, here in his chest. Breathing him in to ease your nerves, putting a little weight on him to relieve your poor ankles, melting into his strong arms.

“Would you mind if I had the next dance?”

The spine-chilling, unfortunately familiar voice comes from behind you, and immediately twists your intenstines in knots.

You both perk up, and you watch as Konig’s brows raise.

“Ach, of course.”

Konig lets go of you, palms displayed as he takes a few steps back. You beg him with your eyes to come back, but you both know that’s not an option, so he offers a wince of apology.

You don’t have the sense to hide your horror as The President steps in and offers his hands.

A sneaky, stealthy, slithering man he is.

His hand feels dead in yours, cold and sagged, like if you’re not gentle enough the meat might just slip off his bones.

“Congratulations, my dear,” He says.

The President gives a polite nod of his head. Those icy eyes are piercing, staring straight into yours and not so much as blinking. You’re convinced he can see your very soul, every thought and fear and secret binded into a book for him to skim over at his leisure.

“Thank you, sir.”

He gives a hearty laugh that makes your skin crawl, your stomach threatening to send bile to lap at the back of your throat.

“None of that ‘sir’ nonsense.”

His head tilts up, and he looks to the evening sky as he speaks. Slowly. Carefully.

“I can’t help but feel as if I know you personally. As well as I know a friend.”

You have to stifle the sharp inhale you instinctively draw when his eyes meet yours again. The hint of a cruel, cautious smile tugs on the corners of his lips.

“Quite a show you put on for us all.”

Your throat is so tight, if you could find the words, they would surely have come out wavered. You nod instead.

“I have to say I admire that young man’s dedication to you.”

His eyes crinkle.

“Do you think he would still be as infatuated with you if he knew you wouldn’t repay the favor?”

A choke catches in your throat. Your eyes dart to Konig, standing just out of earshot to keep an eye on you. His face is twisted, brows scrunched, asking you with just a look what’s going on.

“I- I’m sorry?”

The President’s smile doesn’t falter. He speaks as if he’s clarifying a step on a recipe, and not drilling you with the most bone-chilling, unhinged questioning you’ve ever had the displeasure of being on the end of.

“If he knew that his dedication was not returned.”

You don’t have the sense to hide your nervous, confused laugh.

The President’s eyes remain locked onto yours. They’re just a little too open, his smile a little too wide.

Inhuman.

“I- I- gave up my life for him. I don’t-”

“Did you?” He cuts with a curious perk of a brow.

You blink twice, your awkward sways coming to a halt.

“I beg your pardon?” You stutter.

“Did you give your life up for him?”

The President lowers his chin, his brow raising.

“Or did you do it for you?”

He leans in closer, his voice just a frosted whisper. While his words are terrifying, his face upholds appearances. Refined and cheerful, as if he were recounting a lighthearted story around his surely exotic dinner table.

“Death is easy, my dear. There is no pain. There is no consequence. There is no ‘aftermath,’ as you like to put it.”

You try to work up saliva into your dry mouth, but it’s no use.

“I don’t understand.”

The President gives a low, calculated chuckle that tapers into a hum.

“Nothing to understand,” He says through a smile, “It’s notional.”

You have to coax the words out, each one spiked and slicing your throat on its ascent.

“Forgive me, for being blunt - “

Your unsure voice takes on an unnaturally high pitch when you find the courage to make eye contact with him.

“Is- Is this blackmail? I - What do I have to do?”

For the first time, the President’s face falls, and his expression finally matches those loathsome eyes.

“It’s notional,” He repeats, “And if you’d like to keep it that way, then I’d suggest you listen to that mentor of yours.”

You look down to your shoes before giving a shaky nod.

He reinstates that perfect smile, and you can tell, even in his perpetually loathsome eyes, that he takes great pleasure at the way you cower.

He hums and finally looks away, watching the evening sky as he slips back into his act.

“That John-“

He chuckles with a shake of his head.

“He certainly is a sentimental man, isn’t he?”

The air being pulled into your lungs is useless, you can’t breathe, bordering on hyperventilating.

“It’s clear he cares quite a lot about you both.”

The President’s face drops suddenly again, and his annoyance is clear.

“A thorn in my side.”

“He’s a good man,” He continues with a resetting breath, “But that big heart of his is going to get him in trouble one of these days.”

The President might as well have Price under his thumb, and he’s deciding whether or not to smush him like a bug or go get lunch.

When the song ends, his eyes narrow dangerously at you.

“I hope you enjoy your evening,” He says.

The President leaves you frozen in your spot, stepping over to him and reaching up to give him a hearty pat on the shoulder.

“She’s all yours, my boy. Not a scratch on her.”

Yet.

The President gives a hearty laugh as he walks away.

Konig all but runs over to you, wrapping his hands around your biceps.

“What was that all about?”

Konig’s brows furrow when you shrug unconvincingly.

“Just wanted to congratulate me, I guess.”

Konig nods slow, a concerned pinch of his face and lips weighed down, but he doesn’t push.

When you go to dance again, you rest your head on his chest. You close your eyes and let him lead, the hands on your back guiding you into a loose sway. Your entire body has gone limp to his, bones made of jelly and a stomach made of lead as you try and make sense of The President’s ominous words and not-so-subtle- subtle threats.

You can’t, and to be honest, you’re so exhausted you’ve turned numb. Once the shake in your fingers goes away, you’ve decided - in the simplest of terms, you’re not going to give a fuck until morning.

“My feet are killing me,” You mumble into Konig’s tie, “And I just want to go home.”

“Want to sit?”

You nod into his chest, and are subjected to another round of photos and touching hands, which is even more unnerving after learning that these people know what your naked bodies look like, have seen you be intimate, and are eager to force you both into their bedrooms to get a live version of the show.

After you quell this round of eager elite, you take a seat next to Konig on the cluster of patio couches along the mansion gates. His arm slings over the back of the couch to invite you to nuzzle into his side, and you happily take his offer, closing your eyes as you cozy up to him. You hope you can sneak in a break, here in the safety of his chest.

Your attempted break is interrupted, though, when Konig squeezes your shoulder to alert you that someone’s approaching.

A sole woman, mid-thirties, you think. A plump build and wavy brown hair.

“Hi there,” She says.

She’s lacking in the Capitol effectuations, and she leaves moderate distance between you as she extends her hand in your direction.

“I’m sure you’re both, uh,” She gives a weak laugh, “Sick of people by now.”

You give a polite but tired hum as you carefully accept her handshake.

“I’ll make it fast, promise,” She says with a quick wave of two palms.

“My name’s Mabel. Just - wanted to thank you, I suppose.”

You eye her with a crease in your brow, brain already scrambling to figure out her intentions. She sees your confusion, and jumps to explain herself.

“I’m - I’m one of the District Eight mentors.”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes snapping open.

Mabel gives a solemn nod at your horrified recognition, before she carefully looks over both her shoulders. Her gaze flits to the ground, and her lips barely move when she speaks again.

“I wanted to tell you that it’s never easy to do the dirty work. And we thank you for making that sacrifice.”

You exchange a glance with Konig before giving her a hesitant nod.

“Yeah, uhm-”

You’re really not sure what to say to that one, and your brain is too foggy from the drinks and too scrambled with exhaustion to find an elegant response.

“Yeah.”

Mabel smiles at you, and takes a few steps closer. Her core creases when she leans over and sets a rectangular card on the drink table in front of you, and her voice returns to a normal volume.

“If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate.”

She gives the card two taps before she turns and leaves you both be.

You and Konig share another look before you carefully pry the card from the table with your nails.

You flip the card over in your hands, expecting to see contact information, but the sloppily printed capital letters makes your blood run cold.

DISTRICT EIGHT UNREST

Your head shoots up to find Mabel, but she’s disappeared among the party goers.

The world has fallen upon deaf ears, unfocused eyes blur the vibrant colors that surround you into a gross, brown swirl, the music and drunken chatter suddenly a million miles away.

Because of you?

Is it because of you?

If it has nothing to do with you, why would she go out of her way to pass on a message of treason?

She could be executed for spreading district intel, and for her to give it to a strange victor so brazenly, when you are surrounded by elite at The President’s mansion and being broadcasted to the entire country -

Because of you?

It can’t be.

Why is she warning you about it?

If what’s on this card is true - then you know why there’s unrest in District Eight, and it’s not because of you.

But you are the only player left standing from a very recent incident heinous enough to potentially make an already discontent district reach its boiling point.

Because of you.

The flinch that tears through you when Konig nudges your shoulder snaps you back to reality, the music and chattering flooding your ears once more.

“What is it?” He asks.

You just shake your head, an unconvincing croak in your voice as you stuff the card into your bust, right next to his token.

“A contact card,” You say.

Konig’s stare lingers for a moment before he nods slow.

You move to a stand, rushing over to the nearest Capitol attendant, and snatch two drinks from the tray with a quick thank you.

When you turn, you bump into Konig’s chest, apparently at your heels. The bubbling drink sloshes up the side of the glass, splattering and foaming onto the hem of your dress and the river rock path below.

He steadies you by your shoulders with a worried look in his eyes.

You just nod at him as you bring the glass to your lips and down the entire thing, stifling a burp when you finish the glass.

“Oh, phew, sorry.”

You bring the other glass to your lips and begin to down it as well, but stop when you catch Konig’s pinched frown.

“Oh, sorry,” You say, gesturing what remains in the second glass in his direction, “Want some?”

He shakes his head.

You finish out the second glass and take a sharp gulp of air when you pull away.

“Ja?” Konig asks.

“Yeah,” You croak.

“Okay,” He says.

And so you get fucked up.

Everytime feel the prick of Mabel’s card on your chest, everytime you think of The President’s threats, everytime Price’s voice echoes through your thoughts, everytime you wonder if one of these attendants is Eight’s girlfriend, everytime you think of a suicide, of a gory kill, of the injustice of it all -

You take a drink.

It’s not long before your unpleasant thoughts are beyond fuzzy and your cheeks are pooled with warmth.

The drinks make the photos and the touching easier to bear, but it doubles the weight of your already heavy eyelids and drapes your body with a cozy blanket that’s hard to resist.

Finally - finally, the party ends. So late into the night the sun must be close to rising. It takes you an unbearable amount of time for you and the rest of your team to make way to the golden mansion gates.

More photos and grabbing hands and drunken breath.

When you finally make it to the limo, you slip your shoes and your crown off almost immediately, and curl up into Konig’s arm on the leather seats. You even doze off on the ride back to the tribute suites.

You don’t bother putting your shoes back on before climbing from the limo, holding them at your sides as you stumble to the elevators.

Ruby’s in a similar state, and she seems to have gotten over the whole kissing situation, or at least is too drunk to care at the moment, because she has no trouble linking her elbows with Price to keep herself steady while she gushes over the party and all the praise she received.

Price is off.

You can feel it, even through your intoxication. He’s radiating a tense, stiff aura, his features tired and expressionless. He doesn’t even tease Ruby about her particularly rowdy behavior. Just guides her along, silently.

You’re more than relieved to see the sickeningly extravagant suite, knowing you’re mere yards from a comfortable bed and having Konig all to yourself.

Price lets out a heavy sigh behind you as you breach the entrance of the hall.

“Kids?”

He clears his throat.

“A word?”

Konig and you slow, already uneased and hesitantly turning to face him.

“You’re not gonna like this, but ah-“

Price sighs again.

“You’re sleeping in your own rooms.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[maoam]

Naruto most likely sees how the world around him works, and it affects his behaviour, especially since he craves for acceptance.

Notice the difference in his reaction when another guy says he likes him in part 1 vs part 2.

(Sorry for a bit poor quality, it was difficult to find an accurate translation, most were viz translations which didn't convey this convo very well). In part 1 he's just annoyed, because he doesn't like Kankurou as a person. He didn't even think about that "I like you" could have certain other implications. But in part 2 he's straight up creeped out by Kakashi saying the same thing, eventhough the meaning and intention is the same in both.

Naruto's reaction to Kurama mentioning his kiss with Sasuke was also way too over the top. Like really comical. Naruto was putting on a show in front of everyone. But whenever he's with Sasuke, he forgets all about this, he is fine with waxing poetry to Sasuke, or Sasuke being close to him...

My guess is since he went through puberty he also learned things about himself and thus started to become more sensitive to such things. Thus internalized homophobia.

Take this scene for example. He seems a bit uncomfortable being there. Sai was probably made to be like this (inappropriate, talking about p*nis all the time, being compared to Sasuke, challenging Naruto about his fixation on Sasuke) so Kishi could introduce more such themes into the manga. He's rather clever about this.

Another guess (it could be both combined) would be that since Jiraiya is so aggressively straight man (to the point he has to introduce himself by saying he's not into men lol) living with him for those years during the timeskip could have affected Naruto's mindset even more. But it's funny how Kishi keeps stressing over and over how Naruto finds Jiraiya's er*tic books boring. Also unlike Jiraiya who peeps on women for p*rverted reasons, Naruto does it as a prank, and in order to practice his oiroke no jutsu. Kishi is trying to show how they are different. I remember on one discussion forum one guy actually brought up he noticed Naruto's changed behaviour after he came back with Jiraiya! Like that he was even more gay and more sensitive to gay things. See, other people notice too.

Then he calls Konohamaru's boy-on-boy jutsu "nasty". Naturally, it's a shonen, Naruto can't have a comically interested reaction like Sakura to something like that, it wouldn't fly. Thus the internalized homophobia. But I also think he didn't want to see Sasuke who he's possessive over being with Sai like that lol. And Naruto really isn't one to talk considering what he came up with later.

Look how proud he looks. Little hypocrite. He's been working on those twink bods more than rasengan lol. Kishi wasn't very subtle with that comment. Also Kishi fought for this moment with his editors for YEARS because he just really needed to write this down. It was just that important to him...

Of course Naruto's repression comes up when it comes to Sasuke as well. Here he admits Sasuke is attractive, but then immediately backpedals on it. His real feelings just slipped.

Later, he was thinking about Sasuke, his mind consumed by Sasuke, but when Sakura and Sai appear his whole body language changes and he immediately claims he was thinking about a date with Sakura. He didn't want to be vulnerable nor let anyone know about his real feelings at the moment. He is hiding behind a heterosexual facade.

But sometimes Naruto doesn't even think of backpedaling on it. He is with his supposed "crush" yet unlike anyone else who would try to get closer or maybe flirt, he is just thinking about Sasuke. This is actually a moment that made many people raise their eyebrows. Including people who didn't like narusasu, or people who didn't ship anything. Specifically because it's written like a clickbait, as in Naruto says "he is happy" and Sakura going "huh?" and because she's his supposed crush who is taking care of him as I said most readers would expect next page have Naruto say something that would emphasize his crush on Sakura. But no, he goes on about Sasuke. No matter how much ss/nh insist we see gay everywhere, many other people picked up on Kishi's writing at many points during the story. But anyway, even with the internalized homophobia, Naruto's love for Sasuke is so strong he can say crazy things about Sasuke to other people and to Sasuke himself that things like "I'm starting to like you" (a completely average thing to say to another person) can't compare to, and still be unbothered by it.

Finally there is the interaction with Minato. Naruto wants to look good in front of his dad so he hesitantly agrees Sakura is his girlfriend, despite how in the previous arc we were shown that Naruto knew Sakura still likes Sasuke, and was angry at her when she tried to confess to him. So he is obviously not serious about Sakura being his girlfriend, but he is saying it to Minato hesitantly. Yet when his dad is leaving he doesn't want to lie anymore.... but he's also hesitant about admitting he hasn't found a girl like his mom wanted.

About the last part, I think it's referring to the armadillo scene? I think it was Kishi's typical humour, like how Naruto saw Haku in makeup and feminine clothing, and assumed Haku was a girl, but then was told Haku is a boy and went "oh okay, I didn't know that kind of thing existed". Here there was instead an armadillo that somehow looked like it was wearing makeup (??? idek or at least looked feminine) and since Naruto needed to write down whether the animals were boys or girls (a ridiculous cover up mission they made up to hide the war was going on from Naruto lol) but then it was flipped over with everyone else and Naruto saw its p*nis and went "even if heaven and earth switched places, a male is still a male". I guess Kishi likes this kind of thing lol... his d*ck jokes...

I know it says "the world might flip over" here but I know it's actually that proverb "even if heaven and earth switched places" that's often used in Japanese.

EDIT: this got flagggged by tumblr so I had to edit sus words.

[marengogo]

Are You Sure ?! - #4: I Hate that YOU Love Hate You but, I Love YOU, so ...

I’m listening to a Mellow/Angsty Love playlist - (yes) it has BTS/ solos BTS songs as well

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Hello My Sentimental Girls, Bois and Enbys,

Please be kindly warned that I am going to be overpoweringly sensitive as I write this. Not necessarily because Are You Sure?! has unfortunately come to an end, but because, as I try to write this post, as always, “through” my TwinFlame’s JK emotional lens, the last two episodes really were so full of so many feelings that I am trying my best to order my thoughts and do them justice. Like, let me tell you, this boy really felt plenty, or better yet he allowed himself to truly feel a lot hence, as always, through respectful speculation and educated guessing I’ll try my best to convey my related observations. 

Towards the end of the post I’ll also have a little confession to make about something that I have been so determinedly ignoring, because the mere thought always makes me so uncomfortable, sad, and a tiny bit scared, so there’s also that.

All that being said, here I am, concluding this physical/sentimental journey, with my unrequested thoughts but with a hopeful sense that perhaps writing this down will somehow lessen my emotional weight, because let’s be for real, I am going to have AYS withdrawals on Thursday. So, is this post going to be long?  … 🤡 I mean, you should know me by now. For those who don’t know me, yes, it will be a long post 🙏🏾.

Truly free things are hard to come by nowadays. Undoubtedly, money has effectively found its way into our everything. Yet, there is one thing that hasn’t changed in its acquired value as in, how you get by it, and how you get it, etc. This one thing is still available free and you can find it anywhere, LITERALLY. However, whether or not you’ll be able to acquire it, and eventually keep it, is, to this day, one of the most debated, discussed, joyed over, cried over, mused over, etc, topic. 

Yes, you’ve guessed; it’s Love. 

I don’t believe I was actually ever taught about just Love in all its forms. Not at home, not at school school talked about famous people in love, sexual education, popular love … basically they beat around the bushes 🙄, or amongst friends, and if I had, I do not recall it, at all and y’all, I have one heck of a good memory, I will not be humble about that. I think that my first notions and ideas I formed about the concept of Love came through books and films, and let me tell you, there is an infinite related archive out there, which can be as exciting, as much as dangerous. Regardless, even though it was never really explained to me same for everyone most likely, as I grew up, EVERYONE loooved to talk about it, ALL THE TIME, so somehow, I made my own understanding of it. 

One of the things I understood was that some day, when I would become a woman, I would find an adult man, have a family, children, and live happily ever after because I would fall in love and some man would fall in love with me. I understood it as a given; Everyone, of a certain gender, falls in love with someone, of the opposite gender, because there is someone out there, of a certain gender, for everyone, of the opposite gender, just waiting to find you or to be found. Basically, Everyone will eventually find, and forever keep, mutual heterosexual romantic Love.

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t not true.

In fact, the true state of things is actually the very opposite. The minority of people on this planet, heterosexual or not, will experience, and live with true mutual romantic love, and will be able to keep it for a very long time, and even fewer others will be able to take it all the way to the day they die, those are at the Legendary Level ones. And I am not saying this because I am jaded or bitter or any other hurt and/or hater-inclined-behaviour, you can really miss me with alla dat. This is just that one very helpful, and hard, to accept and you don’t have to accept it by the way! reality that should hit everyone at some point, but not always does. When it doesn’t hit, people may end up tormenting themselves sometimes to death when and/or if they can’t “find love”, wondering if they are unloveable, what is wrong with them, etc etc etc.  

Reason why, it is paramount to love yourself first and foremost. 

Because it might be true that someone is “unlovable” or that there is “something wrong with them” but, if true, this is principally hindering one’s well-being because, finding and trying to fix whatever might be amiss with one's self, may not guarantee a successful mutual romantic love, but it does guarantee a happier life in general. I mean, listen, if in the scope of things, you might end up having to spend the rest of your life without a mutual romance, meaning, you have to spend infinite time with you, yourself & YOU, how is that going to work, if you don’t love yourself …? And, just in case it wasn’t common knowledge, Loving Yourself is not easy, like any other relationship, it takes work. The reason why therapy ain’t cheap ✌🏾💰💋but needed, honestly.

So, let’s make no mistake; alas Love, in any of its forms btw, if it is harmful, it is not Love is needed. In fact, as it turns out, human beings were “programmed” in such a way that having it in one's life would make their existence progress less painfully, or even painlessly. In addition, self-love is one of the purest, satisfying, and incredibly useful types of love out there.

ALL OF THAT BEING SAID, for those lucky enough to find & keep romantic love regrettably, thus far, I am not one of those, trust me when I tell you, it is not at all smooth sailing. There are just so many factors to be factored in and the bear thought of it all can honestly be enough to make anyone not want to be bothered by it.

Yet, my beloved and most precious, TwinFlame seems to have found it. Now, I can’t guarantee it to be romantic as always, despite me believing it to be so but he sure as hell is fighting his darn life to keep it. So, yes, hm, I think

JK is in Love.

If it wasn’t clear enough in episode 1 all the way to this finale, JM is a person whose presence JK particularly wants in his life, and whose absence kinda makes him feel sort of … unsettled? … but I’ll dive deep into this, later on in this post. For now, it is important to point out that my TwinFlame not only actively looks after JM, but he actively seeks JM’s attention, he actively wants to be sought by JM, he actively tries to make JM happy, he actively wants to level with JM, he actively wants JM to be comfortable around himself JK and for JM to be comfortable with himself JM. Basically, JK cares, in his own way, quite loudly for JM. And I say “his own way” because I believe JK’s emotional intelligence (EI) to be somewhat different from the common ones. I actually received an ask about his EI, which I plan to answer very soon 🙏🏾, so for now, I will not dive into that in this, cos I really ain’t trying to compete with the length of dictionaries with this post 😬. 

Japanese people, traditionally, have a fascination for sad love stories, and ever since I got into 875, I’ve been wondering if Koreans feel the same way but in their case, it is likely to be just Sadness period. You see, in the West, we “all” love a heartbreaking and passionate love story, the reason why Romeo and Juliet will probably be eternally famous. Yet, we don’t believe that true love is love, because it is brought about by unbearable suffering, so it must be real. We are more of the true love, is love, because it leads to immeasurable happiness kinda style. Basically we Westerners love Romeo and Juliet because of what they could have been, but Japanese and maybe Koreans would love Romeo of Juliet because of what they were to each other. So when a person like me watches a movie like 5 Centimetres per Second and swears to never watch it EVER AGAIN which I haven’t and refuse to, a Japanese person might think that is probably one of those movies they’ll find themselves watching over and over again and let me tell you, it was great, I just don’t think I can handle a second viewing, no thanks.

So if I am correct in thinking that Koreans feel similarly as Japanese in this matter, JK, like many other Korean folk, loves to sing sad/angsty/melancholic songs. Either by himself, or in company, like he used to with Tae probably they still do as well as watching sad movies, like JM’s favourite being The Notebook and JK’s being Titanic. Yet, here is where the glitch in the matrix happens; JK was most likely not that serious but wasn’t he? 😬 when he brought this up however, he seemed to be a little bothered by the fact that JM really liked “Hate You” out of all the song in his album. JM sang Seven, 3D and Standing Next to You this particular one he kept bringing up like there was no tomorrow, throughout all 3 trips, yet, when he played Hate You in the car, for the second time because he had as well in episode 6 JK was like; “Why?”. 

Let me tell you something.You know how I usually skip Spring Day, cause I can’t really handle it? Before AYS Ep. 8 I used to skip Hate You as well for the same reasons as Spring Day; it was too sad for me to bear as it felt closely related him singing it alone makes me relate it to him in my flowed brain, even though he didn’t write it 🙃 to people I love, people being the Tannies. Lovely by Khalid and Billie Eilish in comparison is MUCH SADDER but because I am in no way emotionally connected to either Khalid or Billie I don’t mind listening to the song at all I love that song. 

Anyways, Long story short, it looked like it bothered him a tiny bit. It felt almost as if “Sure, we are Koreans and we like sad love songs, this being an excellent one, but I don’t want MY love story to be sad” kind of bothered “also this better have NOTHING to do with the fact that Shawn Mendes wrote this song!” - perhaps nervously thought JK 🤡🤣😂. In fact, there are a few situations that came up, involving him and JM, which “bothered” him and he had no qualms in bringing up with JM right away, which by the way is healthy AF. JK seems to be the type of partner that wants to confront you right away and will not let it be until he hears the words that make him know that the “conflict” is cleared to his own satisfaction, or until he senses you don’t want to talk about it any further in that particular moment.

Those are all examples, during AYS, where JK was satisfied with the answer that JM gave him to the legit concerns/silly questions he brought up. JK’s reaction right after all of those answers was him being content/happy, by laughing, singing along, or something else, hence moving on. Below is an example where he wasn’t satisfied with the answer:

Did he just drop it? Did they talk it out? As always, we will never know, as this part cuts into another scene. Only JK, JM and the editors will know and this is a fact we should never forget. Never forget about editing limitations, and this is a very good moment to add that even though whoever translated this show did a shitty ass job, the crew that went with them, to film in Sapporo specifically, seemed to be quite familiar with them, their dynamics almost like friends, which I think contributed with JK and JM feeling as comfy as they did in Japan.

Japan.

By the looks of it, this is the country that holds special meaning to both myself and my TwinFlame and, NGL, this kinda makes me happy and feel special LOL 😜. BUT, I DIGRESS! Didn’t JK seem a bit more … relaxed? Besides the very romantic fact that he wanted to go back to Tokyo because it was their first trip, didn’t JK seem a tad flirtier, a tad cuter, a tad more annoying, a tad comfier and just so fucking happy? He, and I’d dare say JM as well, truly let their guards down, even if just a tad. The fact that JK & JM wondered how the crew would have edited the content tells me that they were fully aware about the fact that they were being filmed, but didn’t want to think too much about it, because they wanted to also have a sense of freedom. Because of that, perhaps, they tried to give us as much realness as they could, restraining themselves in some instances, while also saying Fuck it! in few other cases during which they perhaps forgot about the fact that they were being filmed, confidently relying on their trusted crew to properly edit the footage in the best way possible. But back to the main point,

JK is in Love.

JK is probably the type of person who wishes he could have an answer, and/or remedy, to any problem his significant other may have. Yeah, he is probably the type of man that wishes he could take away all their pain, or feel it for them instead, and it is exactly because he seems to be willing to do anything for his loved one’s well-being that I think that sometimes he does struggle with some of their societal boundaries, such as; age hierarchy. Without getting too much into his EI, the part in episode 7 where he brings up how things would have been if he and JM would have been born the same year really stood out and stayed with me.

In this particular instance, for the first time I finally got to see him kinda mind about their age difference, almost troubled and not because he might think it to be a lot which it isn't at all, but because according to their societal practices, he theoretically should constantly be mindful about it, limiting greatly the actions he can do, not that he’s ever heed to them, but the fact is that he should, and in certain situations, he must. If we think about it properly, right from their debut years, JK has struggled a lot with referring, and treating, JM as a hyung, which is actually quite weird considering that the person he treated more like a “chingu” friend of the same age in this context was is Tae, even though, to my knowledge, he’s never dropped honorifics with him and had no desire in doing so, as explained during the first In The Soop which in hindsight, I’m sure must have confused Tae a lot who has been trying to be his cool hyung for as long as I can remember  (the following pictures are not from In The Soop, but Festa 2021). 

Like, it is honestly so peculiar how, back in the day, JK had never really treated JM as your typical “chingu”, nor a hyung, yet found himself sticking by JM’s side a lot, off cameras, filming him a lot, acting stand-offish just to apologise right after, staring at him a lot, learning all his likes and dislikes, studying his body and habits, doing questionable things such as focusing rather often on his lips and butt through a camera lens, which eventually evolved into JM being the first member he’s ever bought a gift for, as well as being the first member he’s ever travelled alone with… basically, as I’ve stated, JK has really never seen JM as his hyung or friend though he does try to remind himself of it. 

So if JM is not a hyung, or a “chingu”; then what is he? 🙄… 

Wanna know what’s even funnier? JM clearly cares about JK enormously and though he likes most of all of his sides cos JK can be annoying when he wants to 🤡✌🏾 the side he likes the most is his cute side; but here comes the catch. It would seem that from their debut days, JM truly became fond of that cutesy, happily skipping, side that JK shows with his hyungs in particular and the fact that they are ALL his hyung, including JM, just made writing this sentence so weird NGL …, that cuddly, super-maknae aura he has many a time, with literally everyone but the 95s, because Tae, as speculated, he seems to see as a chingu and JM as a … charming person?? Whatever that means.

Now JK does give JM “cute”, sometimes, but it is not the little brother kind of cute. It’s that “don’t go without me…” kind of cute, “let’s buy the same one” kinda cute, “you didn’t show me first, so I am hurt” kinda cute, “how do I look?” kind of cute “I can film you, but don’t film me” kind cute, “... spend time with ME!” kinda cute … you get the jist, don’t you? Cause, repeat after me; He a simp, he a simp, he a simp! And there is nothing wrong with being a simp tbh, as long as you own up to it, and JK does own up to it marvellously 💋.

And remember when I mentioned about him feeling sort of unsettled when JM isn’t around? I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of days but doesn’t it almost feel like a sort of … separation anxiety? Through the whole episodes it sometimes felt like he tried to do as much as possible, of anything, with JM as if he would just take off and leave at some point. This could also explain him always popping up on WEVERSE whenever JM took a flight, or trying his darn best to get him to come around even though they had just spent so much time together in the US. But who knows right? Perhaps he just really loves to spend every hour, every minute, every second with JM because, like crazy,  

JK is in Love.

So in love that he thought it important for himself to drive them to the airport, hence he didn’t drink that last beer I know he was dying inside, as well as taking a flight to Korea with JM, when he really could have just flown to the US from Japan. So in love that out of all the trips he's been to in his life, Are You Sure?! is the best trip he’s ever been on and he wishes to reboot when they come out of the military, where, by the way, they presently are together 🤡 . So in love that he wasn’t going to have JM get sad and lost in his own thoughts while in his presence, no, reason why, like a knight in shining armour, he “went and saved” him from his slump and not because JM was a princess in distress, but because prince charming also needs saving every once in a while If you ask me, the main “princess” in this relationship is my TwinFlame, no doubt, cause I also fo happen to think that they do take turns, for sure. Hence, the main “prince charming” is most definitely JM, and btw, frequency of a certain behaviour is not a factor that determines who is “main” 💋. 

Marengo Confession-Time!  😬- here it goes: I love watching people react to ANY 875 content, but I haven’t been able to watch anybody react to Are You Sure?! Because to put it plainly I am scared. I’m scared that people will question their relationship, or have homophobic reactions, or feel uncomfortable watching them when they do what they do. I just don’t want them to be hated for something they can’t help and are comfortable with. For the most part I am sure they would maybe nt comment, or chalk it up as “brotherly behavior", but what if they don’t? In fact, I am also so apprehensive of the reaction the world would have if they are a couple if they ever came out, it genuinely terrifies me.

I don’t want them to be looked at like freaks, or worse, so I am not able to bring myself to watch people react to them, in the same way I turn off when people have unwarranted shit to say when reacting to 875’s music. If they are a couple, I truly want them to be happy, safe, and become part of the Legendary Level ones. So, even though the world may not be fully ready to want their chapter in their history books, I hope it will someday,  because theirs would be such a motivating and enthralling chapter at that. 

I don’t know what will await them when they come out of ME. It is interesting though that JK made all these memories during the trip to take with himself and think about while serving. The snow he watched with JM, the restaurants they ate at, the time they tried skiing for the first time, the antics in the sauna and the “scuzzi”, the tuna-mayo gimbap he knew JM would love, the good afternoon and good night whiskey, and more. Now that I think about it, in some way, JK has a similar Love background to mine, he most likely wasn’t taught that romantic Love can come from someone of the same gender and he wasn’t exactly taught that not having children or a traditional family can be okay. 

Yet, I have a feeling that just like me, through movies perhaps, songs, or other means he’s figured out a thing or two. I have a feeling that he will decide for himself what Love is to himself, all the forms of Love he will need, who embodies Love for him, and what role Love will take in his life, and whether or not JM turns out to be that person MAKE NO MISTAKE: JM is an incredibly important person in his life. So, it is a strong feeling I have, but then again when has JK ever not taken control of his own life? When has he ever not followed his instincts and/or succumbed to what people want him to do? Same for JM really. 

These are two boys who found themselves in Seoul even though they were born in Busan, like, the universe wanted them to meet. They are two boys, who, along with the other five, made the phrase impossible Is Nothing feel real. After all, these are indeed two boys who really can’t be told to do anything. There is a very famous quote, which kinda makes me think of them:

I am the Master of my Fate, I am the Captain of my Soul.

So yeah, the future is uncertain but one thing is for sure, no relationship that took so long, so much care, and so many trails to build, can be so easily destroyed. So, fighting TwinFlame, whatever it is you want, you got this! 👊🏾.

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💜,

Marengo.

PS - Dammit! I miss them so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[atlasscrumpit]

Bucky x Reader

Haircut

You were in your room in the tower, cleaning up.

Sunday's were always quietand you took the chance to tidy up and have some time alone.

You heard a knock at your door and opened it to see Bucky with chunks of his hair cut out.

"What happened to you?" You asked trying to hold back your laughter.

"I tried to cut my own hair..." He grumbled as you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

"Bucky, would you like some help?" You asked as he looked at you and nodded.

"Why didn't you just ask me in the first place?" You asked dragging a chair into the bathroom and getting him to sit down for you.

"I don't like people touching my hair, I don't like talking when someone is cutting my hair it's just...uncomfortable." He said as you nodded a little and thought for a second.

"Alright, well... How about this?" You asked handing him a set of earphones.

"Put these in and just close your eyes and relax, you don't have to do anything but focus on the music while I give you a hair cut." You said as he took the earphones and sat down.

"I guess that could work." He grumbled as you smiled.

"I'll always keep a hand on you in one way or another so you know I'm here, okay? That way I won't scare you too much if I randomly touch you." You instructed as he nodded and put the earphones in and closed his eyes.

You brought out the scissors and a brush and began to gently trim him hair to the length most of the chucks were.

You moved rather slowly, making sure to not spook him whenever you had to cut a new section.

Once you were done you noticed he was in a completely relaxed state, you chuckled softly before tapping his shoulder and letting him open his eyes.

He took the headphones out and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Wow... I look so different." He muttered as you smiled.

"Good different?" You asked finally seeing a smile creep onto his face.

"Yeah... Good different, I feel like the long hair just reminded me too much of...you know." He muttered as you nodded a little and brushed the hair away from his shoulders.

"Expect Steve to get all emotional, you know he's a baby." You said making him chuckle softly.

He knew Steve would be emotional about something as simple as a haircut, but the more time went on the more Steve could see his old friend coming back.

"He's somehow more emotional then you, and you literally cried about a snail yesterday." He said as you looked at him through the mirror.

"He was so tiny!" You shouted making him laugh and shake his head.

"Yes, I know he was. I was the one to console you when Thor stood on him." He said as you faked cried.

"That giant oaf." You muttered making him laugh again.

"Would you two just date already?" A voice startled you both as you looked behind to see Nat sitting on your bed.

"How long have you been sitting there?" You asked as she shrugged and walked out.

"You know...I always wanted an older sister, Nat makes me regret wishing for that." You said as Bucky stood up and smile, brushing the hair off him.

"I mean...maybe she's right." He muttered, looking down at the ground.

"What do you mean?" You asked, obviously you knew what he was implying but you needed it to be clear.

"The first time we tried it we were both in a terrible place, of course it ended badly... Maybe, we could try again." He said, looking into your eyes as you smiled softly.

"I would really like that actually..." You said noticing his cheeks flush a little.

"How about I take you out on Friday? Dinner, dancing?" He asked making you smile with fondness.

"It's a date."

[naussensei]

Satosugu's First Mission

“Not gonna lie, this is a little depressing.” Said Suguru, kneeling to inspect the lower Ferris wheel carts. “Why did our first mission together have to be in a grim place like this?

“Easy.” Said Satoru, he was doing the same thing on the other side of the ride. “Places like this hold large amounts of cursed energy. All the emotions from the people who came here. It lingers.”

“I would’ve thought this was a place for happy memories only.” Suguru said, trying to pry open a rusty door handle. He grimaced as it fell off, and he wiped the rust off his hand with a look of disgust. “Isn’t this where kids come for birthdays or something?”

“And where couples come for dates and stuff. Exactly.” Satoru agreed as he stood up. “But anywhere people gather can turn into a curse hotspot. Subway stations, shopping centers, amusement parks. Just imagine – the kids scared of heights, couples breaking up, parents arguing… the list goes on.”

It was no surprise to Suguru now that Satoru could be quite knowledgeable sometimes. Not that he would ever tell him that to feed his ego, but he could still acknowledge it in his mind. 

They continued to inspect the ride together, Satoru in the front, climbing up the next cart, pulling Suguru up. He was just about to keep climbing when something occurred to him.

“So, couples, huh?” He said in the most nonchalant way he could manage, to hide his discomfort with the subject. He didn’t know a single thing about dates, or amusement parks for that matter, he had never been to either of them, and the thought of Satoru having more experience than him was almost humiliating. “Is that like, a thing? People go to theme parks for dates?”

“Duh, obviously.” Satoru said with a confident grin, then paused for a moment. “I mean… I guess. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.”

Suguru’s curiosity was piqued. “Have you ever been on a date?” he asked.

Satoru scoffed, inspecting the inside of the cart. “Do you think the strongest sorcerer has time for dating?”

Suguru couldn’t help but grin. “So you haven’t.”

“Have you ?” Satoru countered.

“Me?” Suguru said, smiling with resignation. “Do you think the biggest weirdo in the normie world has time for dating?”

Satoru turned to him then, and Suguru was taken aback for a moment. The moonlight poured through the shattered window, casting a faint glow on Satoru’s face. Suguru couldn’t see his eyes behind the shades, which made him feel a bit uneasy, but by Satoru’s expression he seemed to be assessing something carefully, something that Suguru could not quite figure out.

“Fair,” Satoru finally said, and the moment he turned away again, Suguru caught a glimpse of a faint smile. The slightest feeling of satisfaction warmed Suguru’s chest when he did, because for once, he’d made Satoru laugh more than once in a night. Suguru’s own smile grew then, too, because he knew the meaning of that subtle smile. It was the perpetuation of a silent ‘were not that different after all’ that Satoru would never voice, but he didn’t have to. 

“By the way… Shoko has never been on a date either.” Satoru said with putty lips, as if that made the situation more acceptable for them.  “Not that I know, anyway. I never see her talk to any guys, other than Kusakabe.”

“Uh, right…” Suguru uttered. He had a good idea as to why he hadn’t seen her talking to guys, but he would not be the one to tell him that. For all he knew, Satoru could be interested in her. He’d rather redirect the subject to them again.

“16 and not a single date.” Suguru said, taking a seat on the worn bench to look out the window. “What a bunch of losers.”

“I’m still 15 for your information.”

“Yeah?” Suguru’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “When’s your birthday?”

“Why?” Satoru’s eyebrows rose even higher than his as he grinned. He bent down to Suguru’s eye level. “Are you gonna buy me a present? Otherwise I won’t tell you.”

Suguru sank back into his seat a little, yet held his grin. “Sure. I may, actually. That’s… if we don’t die tonight.”

“Dumbass.” Satoru scoffed, rising to kick Suguru softly on the shin. “Nobody is dying tonight.”

He collapsed on the seat in front of him, hands still in his pockets, the weak cart wobbling a little as he did. Then he looked outside the broken window. Suguru did so as well.

The night was still as ever, a cool breeze seeped through the hole in the window. It was dark and cold, but somehow, it was not unpleasant at all. Suddenly, Suguru did not feel like moving anywhere.

“December 7th,” said Satoru all of a sudden.

It took a moment for Suguru to realize he was talking about his birthday. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a smile.

Satoru cocked his head at him. “Yours?”

“February 3rd.” Suguru shrugged, giving him an apologetic smile. “Turned 15 this year.”

“Ah, that’s not fair.”

“You kinda already gave me a birthday present.” Said Suguru, taking out his new phone from his pocket. 

“Oh, that’s right!” Satoru said excitedly, moved to sit beside him and take the phone from him, no permission asked whatsoever. His face glowing with an excitement that Suguru could not relate to, but enjoyed watching in Satoru either way. “Did you change your wallpaper already? What tune did you customize it with?”

“I haven’t.” Admitted Suguru, slowly taking his phone back and moving closer to the window to make some space between them, and felt that if he moved any further he would fall out the cart. “We’re on a mission, Satoru. Now it’s not the–”

“Oh, give me that. It takes five seconds. I’ll send you one from my phone.” Said Satoru, his fingers already working on it before Suguru could even decline. 

Suguru watched him do so in silence. It was a good thing at least one of them seemed to be entertained.

“Here you go, loser.” Satoru said as he threw his phone back to Suguru with a playful smile.

“Thanks.” Suguru chuckled. “So, how does it feel to know you're just as much of a loser as I am when it comes to dating?”

Satoru rested his hands behind his head and sighed. “Feels pretty fucking terrible, not gonna lie.”

“Hmm,” Suguru brought a hand to his chin and looked up, thoughtfully. “Well, we can count this as a date. Kinda feels like it, doesn’t it?“

“Uh, no… pretty sure it doesn’t.” 

“How would you know if you've never been on a date?”

“Right,” Satoru scoffed, “because chasing cursed objects in a shitty place like this sounds very romantic.”

Suguru’s smile was smug. “Didn't take you as a romantic.”

“I’m not.” Satoru elbowed him softly. “Now stop talking and focus on the mission. ”

“Why?” Suguru’s grin grew wider. “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not.” Satoru said, averting his gaze, hand still behind his head. “I just wanna get this over with quickly. I don’t want Yaga or Yamato to yell at us for taking so long.”

Suguru leaned forward, seeking Satoru’s avoidant gaze. “We can still count it as a date and feel a little better about ourselves.” He said with a comforting smile, but Satoru had just stood to move out of the cart and begin their descent. Suguru followed closely behind.

“We’ll just omit the part about it being with a friend.” He insisted as they landed on the ground. Seeing that Satoru would not react, he added with a playful wink. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

“Ugh,” Satoru hung his head forward. “Why are you talking so much today? You never talk. I liked you better when you were quiet.”

“Oh?” Suguru speeded up the pace to walk by his side. “Are you saying you did like me before?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Satoru whined as he dragged his feet to continue their way to the next ride. 

Suguru circled closely around him to walk on his other side.  “But you’re always complaining that I’m too quiet and boring, and that I try to be ‘mysterious’ and don't share enough about myself, and now suddenly you don't want me to talk?”

Satoru rolled his eyes and made a disgusted face. “And you couldn’t have picked a better time than in the middle of a fucking–”

Suguru could not hear the end of Satoru’s sentence. His voice was swallowed by the deafening roar that came from under their feet, the same kind they had heard back in the shopping mall earlier, but several times louder and more unsettling. They looked at the ground, exchanged a glance, and looked down again. The earth rumbled under their feet briefly, until it went quiet again.

“What was that?” Suguru said, catching his breath, his heart still jumping in his throat.

“A curse, evidently.” Even Satoru seemed a little startled. Though he quickly composed himself, and was now gazing up at the buildings, eyes moving rapidly, as though machinating a plan.

“Curse?” Suguru chuckled ironically . “More like a giant animal. I thought we were after a cursed object, not freaking Godzilla.”

“It definitely seems like a big one.” Satoru agreed, gaze still upwards as he began to look for a way up. “We should climb higher, to get a better visual. It may not be the only one around.”

“Wait,” Suguru stopped in his tracks, holding Satoru by an arm. “I have an idea.”

From: Our Last Summer in Ao3

[avengerscompound]

Shared Experience - Chapter 10

Shared Experience - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Injuries, blood, blood-drinking, sex talk and touching.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Rose Astor

Word Count: 1972

Summary:  Rose Astor met her end in 1920, joining the ranks of the living dead two years after the birth of Steve Rogers.  A century later the two meet in battle - a beacon of light clashing with a creature of the night.  Despite their differences, the two bond over their shared life experiences.  Can a vampire become an Avenger?  Can two such different beings create a life together?

Chapter 10

Blood spilled into Rose’s mouth and down her chin, warm, salty, and nourishing.  Rose tried to turn her head, to pull away, to stop from swallowing the very thing that could keep her alive.  She had never wanted something as much as this before, yet simultaneously she wanted it to stop, to push away and fight this from happening.  Steve was trying to feed her after spending months telling her no and she wanted it so badly, but if she started, she wasn’t sure that she could stop.

There was no stopping it.  Her injuries were too severe and even if she was strong enough physically to push him away, when she was this close to death she lost all humanity.  The instinct to survive pushed away all mortal thoughts and her body acted outside her control.  It would have been hard not just to bite him if he wasn’t bleeding freely into her mouth.  The fact he was, made it impossible.

She latched on, her hands going to his forearm and holding it in place as she drank.  Each swallow of the thick hot liquid reenergized her.  Her wounds knitted and her flesh filled back out.  Color returned to her skin.  The heat from the blood radiated through her until she felt like a furnace in the middle of the snowy forest.

Never had she felt the effect of blood so fully and to such an extreme as drinking from Steve now.  It was like drinking straight from the sun.  His blood surged through her, making her feel stronger and more alive than she could ever remember feeling.  Within minutes, she felt strong enough to run again, yet she couldn’t pull herself away.

Steve moaned.  It was a low and deep sound that reverberated out from his chest.  She looked up at him.  His head had lolled back on his shoulders and the look of pure bliss etched into his features made her tingle right through to her core.  She knew what it was like for the people she fed from.  The near-orgasmic feeling that vampires created for their victims was a defense mechanism.  It stopped them from struggling and meant the Vampire had more control over the outcome.

God, how she wished this wasn’t happening like this.  In the middle of the Russian Wilderness, buried in snow, and surrounded by HYDRA was not where she wanted to be sharing this with Steve.  She wanted to do this at home, in her bed, his cock buried as deep into her cunt as he could go.  She reached down and put her hand on his cock.  He was rock hard, even through the thick fabric of his combat wear she could feel the press of his cock.  He moaned again and pulled her closer to him.  “Rose…”

It was her name that snapped her out of it.  The way he breathed it, the love that it carried even in the throes of pleasure.  She released him and pulled back, scrambling away from him.  She needed a moment to compose herself and while the wound on his wrist was still open, she wouldn’t be able to.  It would heal quickly now she wasn’t feeding - another side effect of her feeding.  The wounds healed with no scar, so no one could guess what had happened.

Steve looked up at her dazed.  “Rose?” he asked.

“Just give me a second,” she panted.  Not that she was breathing heavily.  She wasn’t breathing at all.  It was just a way to regulate the blood flow and shake off the feeding frenzy that had taken over her.  “Are you okay?  Did I drink too much?”

Steve shook his head and looked down at his wrist.  The wound was mostly healed and he rubbed his hand over it.  “I’m okay… what was that?”

“That’s why it’s taken me so long to separate feeding from sex,” she said.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  We should probably get out of here.”

He stood and while he still looked a little dazed, he was steady on his feet.  She stood, shaking off the layer of snow that was clinging to her.  “We should find the others,” she said.  “I’ll need to go to ground soon.  Dawn is coming.”

Steve pointed the way he came.  “It’s that way, but we’ll have to move fast if you’re going to make it.”

“I guess we’ll go as far as I can.  If I need to bury myself, that’s okay.  You can mark it and find me tomorrow night,” she said.

He nodded.  “Let’s go,” he said.

The two began to run, tearing along the frozen landscape toward the rest of the Avengers.  The cold air stung Rose’s cheeks, yet she couldn’t remember ever feeling warmer or more alive.  Something about Steve’s blood had invigorated her.  It had given her some sense of life again.  More than that, it made her feel slightly high.

She kept her pace steady despite wanting to take off and test her limits.  She thought with this new boost she could run over water.  She felt invincible.

At the speed they moved, she was sure she’d find the jet and the others before the sun rose.  Unfortunately, she’d misjudged exactly how long she’d been awake for.  Lethargy began to kick in and she felt the animalistic urge to start to dig.  She kept pushing, determined to find something, and just as the first rays of light rose to the East, she spotted a small ice fishing cabin.  There were no signs of life around at all and while there was the risk of someone coming during the day, with all the HYDRA activity in the area, it was safe to assume no one would be coming to use it.

Surprising as it was to find any shelter in the Russian wilderness, the fact she could see sunlight and yet was both still awake and not burning was more surprising.

She pointed at the cabin to Steve. “I’m going there.  I need to get out of the open.”

He simply nodded and she ran as fast as she could, a mere blur in the snow, pushing the limits of her abilities.  Her skin was starting to blister and her energy waned as she reached the building that was no more than a box with a slanted roof.  With a massive heave, she shoved the pile of snow away from the door, yanked it open, and hurried inside.  Once out of the sun, her skin immediately healed, giving her an almost tanned look.  The cabin had bunks built into the far wall, each with a lumpy hole-ridden mattress and dusty blankets piled on them.  Closer to the door was a wood stove, and some shelves with tinned food and a bottle of what looked like moonshine.  Rose didn’t take long to take it in.  She rushed to the bed, pulled down the upper mattress to create a walled box under the lowest bunk, grabbed the blanket, and crawled under it.  As soon as the blanket was covering her entire body, her eyes closed.  She had lost consciousness before Steve had even reached the cabin.

Rose woke all at once.  She had expected to be colder than she was, but aside from the fact that whatever was in Steve’s blood had made her own body heat to above the ambient temperature, warmth radiated out from the other side of the room.  She shimmed out under the mattress that was protecting her from the light.  Steve was sitting on a rickety fold-out chair by the stove, looking over something on his tablet.  With the large coat he had on, he looked far too big for the chair and she wondered how it was even still in one piece.

He looked up at the sound and a smile lit up his features. “Wow,” he said.  “You look - different.”

She looked down at herself to try and see what he was talking about.  All she could see was the tattered ruins of her uniform.  She didn’t need coats like the others, but the outfit covered her neck to toe, including her hands.  There was a tear in the fabric on her chest, but the wound under it was completely healed.  “What is it?”

“You have a tan,” he said.  “I was worried when the sun came up.  You normally go into autopilot as soon as it gets close to dawn so you get somewhere dark and protected.  What happened?”

She shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine.  I felt that urge, but I was able to overrule it, and when the sun started coming up, it burned but -” she shrugged.  “I guess it was your blood.  The super-serum.  I feel - alive.  Or as close to it as I have been since I was turned.”

Steve seemed to assess her.  The weight of his gaze was heavy and she felt like she was under a magnifying glass.  She wrapped her arms around her body, almost as if she was trying to protect herself.  “Is it always like that?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“The way you felt?” she asked.  He gave a short nod in reply.  “Yes.  I think it’s a survival thing.  It’s safer for us if you enjoy the experience.”

He didn’t say anything and she started to worry his feelings had changed about her.  She hadn’t wanted this.  She’d tried to resist feeding from him, but he’d forced it.  “Are you angry with me?” she asked.

He blinked and shook his head.  “Oh god, no,” he said, holding out his arms.  She moved into them instinctively and he held her close to his chest.  The steady even thud of his heart soothing her along with the strong arms.  “No, honey.  How could I be angry with you?  You’ve never lied to me about what you are.  This is just new - for both of us.  I wonder what it means.”

“I’m sure it will wear off,” she said.  “Like when you eat white bread.  A blood sugar spike and then drop.  By the time I need to feed again, it’ll be like it never happened.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I guess we’ll see.”

Rose closed her eyes and just let Steve hold her.  Yesterday had been a lot.  She’d had worse days in her life, but they’d been a long time ago.  Never had she had someone there to just comfort her like this after so much stress and pain.  Usually, the person she had to be with after it, was the same person who had inflicted the pain in the first place.

She pulled back slowly and looked up at him.  “Should we find the others?” she asked.

Steve laughed.  “Oh, they’re just outside,” he said.  He opened the door of the cabin to show her the view of the lake.  On the far side, the lights from the Quin reflected off the ice from the lake, glittering like stars.  The sounds of the rest of the team talking and preparing to leave floated over on the arctic wind.  “I stayed here through the day.  I thought a wood cabin near a town and a HYDRA base might be a little risky to leave you unguarded.  If someone else came to use it or hide in it, they’d just need to start a fire and that would be the end of you.  The rest of the team was off finalizing everything.  SHIELD arrived.  They made their arrests.  The base is in the process of being cleared out of illegal equipment.”

Rose sighed in relief and leaned against him again.  “So we can go home?”

“Yeah, we have some prisoners that need to be taken to the Raft,” he said.  “But yes, we can go home.”

// NEXT

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[committingwarcr1mes]

mitski once said:

“i don't need the world to see that i've been the best i can be, but

i don't think i could stand to be where you don't see me”

and now i have to write this.

i really don’t get why people are so superficial about griffith, y’all like “nah, he always was evil vicious callous etc 🙄🙄🙄” and not even trying to look beneath, which is really discouraging because the eclipse arc made it very clear and showed everything in the most obvious way possible.

oh, remark: it’s only about berserk 1997.

so let’s start from afar. “griffith never cared of his people and friends, he easily betrayed them for batman costume 👻👻👻” like WTF?? he DID. he DID CARE. he sold himself to feed and equip his people, and it wasn’t like “he enjoyed f***ing that bearded guy ahshdjsa lmao 😂🤡🤡” (btw i don’t get this crap cause it seems like y’all are so obsessed with rape theme, but while feeling sorry for one victim you at the same time make fun of another. the hypocrisy of this fandom i can’t--). but return to what i’ve started. griffith always cared for his people; he never showed it and never admitted it even to himself, but he remembered everyone who died fighting for him, and i guess sometimes he really blamed himself for that — but again, never admitted it. those scenes weren’t given just for drama or something — these contradictions were always an important part of his character and determined his sight. failure would make victims meaningless. like people died for nothing.

another thing people don’t understand is that griffith never cared only about the power and the fact of becoming the king. people never strive to go on top just to go on top, all our actions are motivated by deeply personal reasons. so i think he really wanted people to follow him, believe in him, attach with his yearning. it always feels good when you see that people like you, need you, rely on you. that is what makes a leader a leader. of course you can say that it’s a selfish and vain wish, but aren’t all people selfish? you always set guts against griffith — so weren’t guts’ wishes and life stance selfish? i think it ridiculous to judge such things.

and now we get to the core — the need for love. love of thousands is pleasant, but in the end humans need something more than that. it’s lonely at the top, as they say. you still need someone to be close to, to trust and rely on. for griffith that “someone” was guts. “ wELL aCtUaLlY hE wAs NeVEr iN lOvE wiTH gUtS 🤓” oh STFU. you didn’t get the homosexual drama, but i did 🤭

and now i’m not going to speculate on was it healthy love or sElFiSh or tOxiC or pOsSeSiVe, i don’t care, you need to get that love can be twisted, sick, destructive, wrong, but it still LOVE. i agree that griffith did use guts for his own affairs, pulled in palace intrigues and etc, but it doesn’t change the fact that he had feelings for him that were able to confuse and mess him up.

“amongst the thousands of comrades... and the tens of thousands of enemies... there was only one man... you were the only one... who ever made me forget my dream” like WHY DO YOU THINK THIS NEEDED TO BE SAID??

their relationships deserve a separate paragraph actually so i won’t drive too deep. all we need to understand is that guts became too important to griffith and it was literally the end to everything he worked for during all those years.

so, guts decides to leave, nothing now can stops him. griffith is messed up and disordered, he’s crushed and isn't really aware of what he's doing. and it is a very good subtext here — he feels rejected, so he goes to charlotte who’s obviously in love with him and has sex with her. it’s a reckless impulse, a moment of weakness, and it leads to the only mistake that cost EVERYTHING. and then griffith is tortured, mutilated and losing even the possibility to talk.

retreat: i find quite interesting how easily he lost that fighting with guts. you can say “well it’s just because guts is stronger blah blah blah etc 🙄🙄🙄”, but i think it was probably about griffith’s subliminal unwillingness to hold someone who’s already decided to give up on him. however…

what is going on in griffith’s head during all these horrible events? guts. guts guts guts. logic chain is simple: he got here because of guts, he lost everything because of guts, guts is the reason for everything he has to pass through now. i’m not blaming guts, but it’s just how griffith was thinking there — which is not surprising, like imagine yourself going through this kind of torture while remembering whom have you been and what you were striving for. all can imagine, but not all can understand.

“and yet… here, in this empty, hollow world… one thing is clear in my mind. him alone… like lightning splitting through the darkness… he appears in my mind so vividly. over and over again like the waves of a tsunami… hatred… friendship… jealousy… frustration… helplessness… affection… sorrow… they all come together into a giant vortex… they pin my fading consciousness down so that it doesn’t slip away. the one who caused this… my confinement in this darkness… will now… become the only chance at survival. when did it happen? this man, whose life was once in my hands… when did i fall into his powerful clutches? and now… in my mind i see him radiating so brightly it pierces in my eyes. guts!” IN BLACK AND WHITE

and this was the moment when love started to turn into hatred; when the pain of abandonment is so strong that it destroys the rest of the feelings. no one made griffith go to charlotte and do what he did, and yet he was so messed up with guts’ leaving that he went and did it. and now he isn’t even able to talk, to walk and to hold anything with his hands. no more fighting, no more winning. no more way to fulfill his dream. all because of guts. and still, affection is living. that moment when guts & co came to save griffith and guts holding him, griffith stretches his arm to touch… or to choke him? guess we’ll never now. however, some kind of hope flared up in him again. guts came back, and probably it will get better…

but oh, it won’t. only worse.

moving on scene when griffith lays in carriage and hears guts and casca conversation on the outside. it’s a VERY important moment that many people overlook, but it is exactly what led to the eclipse events as they are. so, guts is going to leave again and offers casca to join him, casca refuses because she needs to take care of griffith, and when she said that guts decides to stay. with HER. for HER. not for griffith. the story repeats itself, and griffith is still not that significant for him.

and look what happens here. griffith’s people saw his injuries and knew that he can’t lead them any longer. one part of them is going to follow casca now, the other one — guts. they all gave up on him. so did guts. the last one, whose affection griffith desired the most. what is for casca… it is a pretty complicated moment, but a part of the problem here is feel of betrayal. you can think as you wish but i’m considering casca as more like a sister, a fellow, a loyal companion and an assistant to griffith, than a love interest. like yeah, he had a dream where he lives with her taking care of him in small nice house, but… i think it is a question of a habit. we saw two women in griffith’s life: casca and charlotte. charlotte could be a key to power, but i don’t think that griffith wanted to even remember her after the torture. casca, on the other hand, was the one who was near him for quite a long time. she cared for him, supported him. so if griffith needed to give up and live normal life like simple men do, he would choose casca as a partner just because there is now other woman. but at this moment casca took guts away from him. another betrayal. and of course, it starts the jealous.

after overhearing guts and casca’s conversation griffith gathering his strength and drives horses to… somewhere. i don’t think he was fully aware of what he was doing, most likely it was just an another reckless impulse, but he gets into a river and decides to 💀 himself. it was a peak of his despair, but accidentally the red behelit returns to him — and the eclipse starts.

no need to retell, just want to make clear two things: 1) why did griffith betrayed his friends for batman costume 👻👻👻 2) and why he raped casca

moment №1.

besides obviously outlined in the series “he built his way on corpses and he must go on with no regret blah blah blah ☝☝☝” there is a much more important element of disappointment. like yeah, griffith is definitely disappointed about people and affections by this point. he’s not a leader for his people anymore; if they still feel something for him, it’s more like a pity for the cripple. and of course — guts. affection that cost everything, the reason why he appeared in such a position.

so now he has a choice: to sacrifice something that only ruins and ruins and finally get what he dreamt of the entire life, or to choose things that once already destroyed him and live the rest of the life as a cripple even unable to speak. noble are those who chose the second option, but i absolutely and with no doubts understand griffith’s choice here.

so yeah, now griffith chooses the power over everything indeed. he chooses himself and only. good for him <3

moment №2.

the rape. and the reason why that sacrifice was so bloody and brutal. yeah, all the people who appeared there with griffith went through hell right before their death. i don’t think all these sufferings and such nightmares were needed, like just blood & flesh & bone would be enough to give a body to femto, and still it was as it was. why?

it was said that femto will be born on the ruins of griffith’s dream. THE RUINS. so i think there was ruins of his personality either. during the last year griffith survived dreadful torments, the physical pain he suffered is unimaginable, and the trauma that leaves after such horrible events is immense. and it’s not a rare thing when people who survived violence now want to bring that pain to others — to make others suffer like they have suffered. femto is a product of griffith’s worst angles of personality, of darkest things that lived in him. so yes, everyone had to anguish and die the most dire way possible.

same thing is with casca. griffith NEVER wanted to rape her, like WHY WOULD HE EVEN DO, but he was angry and jealous because guts chose her over him. femto soaked it and just did the worst thing possible to avenge. and THE CORE: femto did it in front of the guts, so HE could watch. it was never about casca. only about guts.

idk what to write in conclusion. griffguts completely devastated me. love is an evil thing. never do such 💋

[crisis-starter]

Hello!

First time touching Loop’s perspective!

I have a name for this part. It’s called Memory of Loss.

You’ll understand why a bit more later.

But for now, Loop time!

Warning for suicide mention

Mostly a suggestion, but Isabeau is also asked to perish soooo… another warning for that.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Loop couldn’t see Siffrin clearly from where they were. But they could feel their unbridled rage at another loss against the King.

To Loop, it seemed like the fighter and the housemaiden were affected by the kid’s death, but the kid had forgotten about it themselves. Trauma does that to people.

Knowing that at this point, Siffrin doesn’t bother trying to talk to Loop since the King fight is pretty routine, Loop decided to try something. They didn’t know what would happen if they did this. Would they reach their own Isabeau? Or the fighter?

They took a moment to work up the courage. They formulated the fighter in their head, and took the plunge. They spoke, “Hello. Isabeau, correct?” Loop felt the sparks of craft tingling their brain, so they cut in, “Don’t reply. I just want you to listen.”

The craft fizzled out, and Loop sighed in relief. They wanted to hide this from their stardust for a while, and having Isabeau reply would ruin it. Loop continued, “You’ve landed yourself in a time loop, hm? Well, how about you meet me at the Favor Tree the next time you’re in Dormont? Then we could talk about what we know. Since, well, I don’t want you to waste your precious energy on a simple call.”

Loop dropped the call, and waited for the King fight to finish. It was… irritating, to know that the fight against the King could’ve ended much sooner if they had only thought to teach Mirabelle about the damned shield skill. But they could never confess this. Ever. They already chose a role. They didn’t want to drop a twist so soon.

This time it was a victory. They were on the roof. Kudos to the fighter, it didn’t feel like Siffrin suspected anything. It was time to talk to the Head Housemaiden and loop back to Dormont. That’s when Loop felt a twinge of fear. It’s fair, it was muted, somewhat, because Siffrin had already been on the roof a few times. This fear however. This fear was different.

There was pain. Pain that got sharper and sharper. What… what was this… what was he…

Oh.

Oh no.

And Siffrin looped. Back to Dormont supposedly, because Isabeau was nearby, shaken. He was looking at his hands.

Immediately after witnessing a suicide. What a way to meet. They looked at Isabeau. Siffrin was going to perform the friend quests again. Loop was not too keen in seeing those, assuming Siffrin was going to start spiraling mid conversation. Plus, this could mean more time for chatting about Isabeau’s perspective. Loop stood up from their seat on the Favor Tree and called, “Oh Fighter!~”

Isabeau turned his gaze to the Favor Tree. He looked around for any other sign of life before pointing to himself. Loop beckoned him closer before sitting down on their beloved root. Isabeau sat across from Loop, confused. Maybe even a little suspicious.

Loop squinted their eyes in a smile, beginning to tease, “Oh please. Fighter, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to assume you’re the Researcher in disguise!” Isabeau was smart. He could probably see through Loop’s mask in practically no time at all. No amount of acting can hide this level of intellect from them. Isabeau looked away a little, seemingly thinking.

My oh my, was Loop finding it odd. Isabeau was usually very boisterous. So this silence was… uncharacteristic!

Loop could guess why. And they would be right.

After a minute, Isabeau stated, “I have… numerous questions.” Loop put a hand over their non existent mouth, “As expected. Fire away, Fighter!” The name made Isabeau stop. He paused.

“Before we begin… I… would not like to be called by an epithet if we’re going to see and speak to each other again.” Isabeau explained. Loop cocked their head to the side, “Very well, darling Apollo.” That caused Isabeau to get confused again, “Apo- Alright, at least it isn’t a title… I think…” Haha, Isabeau’s confusion was cute.

Stop it, Loop.

They aren’t yours, silly!

Isabeau fake coughed before asking, “What do I… hm… Do you have a name?” Loop tapped their cheek with one finger and looked off to the side, acting like they were thinking before answering, “You can call me Loop.” Isabeau muttered the name under his breath before nodding. So stern! Loop was joking before, but was the Universe playing a trick on them? Was the Researcher spying on them with the Fighter being in on it?

Isabeau readjusted the way he was sitting. That’s fair. The root was probably more Siffrin size. So he was probably a bit uncomfortable. He looked at Loop, “So… what are you? Because-“ Loop quickly interrupted, “A star!~” Isabeau’s inquisitive expression turned into a frustrated one, “No you’re not.” Loop made it a sport of finding the quickest way to irritate someone. Isa’s intellect caught up to him again! The star crossed their legs, “Then what am I?” Isabeau had to think for a moment, “I- You are… I… I may need more evidence.” Loop giggled.

“Okay, so you finally confirmed a theory by calling this a time loop. It's a time loop triggered by either freezing, dying, talking to the head housemaiden, or a moment of extreme distress. But… does it revolve around everyone, or just…” Isabeau inquired, causing Loop to clap, “Oh, Apollo, what a logical mind you have! Why don’t you test it out?” Isabeau was hesitant, “Are you asking me to… kill myself?” The star nodded, “If you’re going to come back, why not try?”

Isabeau looked unnerved. It took him a moment, but he agreed. Loop sighed, “Apollo, dearest, it’s scary. But aren’t all experiments unexpected? Only once. Give me the results, and then we will work from there.”

Isabeau looked at Loop, slightly wary. He didn’t really know what to use. How to… die. He asked, anxious, “But what do I use?” Loop thought for a moment, “The earliest way to die is getting crushed by the rock in the death corridor. The most painless is the tears, which are on basically every floor. Or, you could die in battle. Die like a hero, if you want a virtuous demise.” Isabeau was silent for a moment. The fighter readjusted to sitting a bit closer to himself. Loop continued, “It’ll hurt, but there’s some level of dignity in ‘falling on your blade’. There are sadnesses on every floor, but I doubt Stardust would ever permit you to die that way.” Isabeau added, “Or at all.” Loop nodded, “….Yes. Now you see why this might be tricky.”

Isabeau stood up from his root, saying with a small smile, “I think Sif’s gonna come back in a bit. I should get back to my spot. However, thank you for the idea, Loop. See you soon.” Loop giggled, “A genuine thanks! Gross!” The star’s expression softened, “I greatly appreciated our time together, Apollo. I’ll see you soon. Feel free to call when you’re stuck.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Well…

If you want a hint for what’s planned for part 2…

Where do you think our darling Isa would get his evidence of Loop’s identity?

I know SASASAP exists.

See you soon! :>

[pineapple-cheese-bread]

I would like to show something off but first let me say a few things first.

I draw dragons, not people. I use bases for people, no, I don't remember where I got the base from, I did this one my phone while travelling so it's not great and I dont have the energy to make it better and Finally these where to just get my vision down and out of my mind to see if everything worked.

No I present Chimera Divorce Quartet. (There will be context for what brought this along at the end)

We have a Zombie, Gorgon, Vex, Blazeborn Cleo

A Moth, Avian, Merling, Wolf, Breeze Pearl.

A Pufferfish, Mimic, Glare Martyn.

And Finally a Unicorn, Merling, Starborn, Iceolliger (I guess?) Scott.

Now Desgin talk and Context under the cut.

So originally these where for an AU I was making with the Divorce Quartet (Cause I love them so much) where they were used as experiments in splicing together different hybrid traits.

They all grew up in a lab together and watched as each of them became further and further from what they were born as.

Eventually (Like when their in their mid teens) they escape and have to try and live as normal of a life as they possibly can.

They all also had an element which is why there's Blaze, Breeze, Glare and Iceolliger in the mix.

Anyway Desgin talk

Cleo: Cleo was pretty easy, their hair snakes glow faintly and get an almost molten look when she's angry, their stitches glow, and I give her some warmer toned patches. I imagine that though they can't turn people to stone she can freeze people in place with their glare, she's got a higher magic affinity due to the Vex part, they can use their wings to fly but it does require a small bit of magic to do so. Her element is obviously Fire(also, she has a tail cause I just like doing that)

Pearl: The bird I used for Pearl (even if she just has some bird legs so she can perch on things) was the Pulver (the Aussie one) those birds are terrifying and I feel like people she make Pearl Aussie birds more often. I'm not gonna lie most of my thoughts were 'this would be cool' Salmon scaled hands just cause, a wolf tail cause all I can think of is happy Pearl with her tail wagging behind her, Pearl's element was air so she's part breeze I imagine she can shot off the breeze things around her arm.

Martyn: no thoughts pure vibes, I like Pufferfish Martyn, he's covered in spikes and if he gets mad and puffs up he tends to ruin his shirts (also spots cause pufferfish have those) his headband is a part of him with the small amount of Glare he has that's what he got. His element was just nature so Glare it was.

And Finally Scott: Once again No thoughts only vibes, his Stars change colour based on his mood he also has a higher magic affinity, his element was Ice hence the Iceolliger.

Also could you tell this was also gonna be a hero/Villian au?

[ganondoodle]

the company i work for decided that its switching from the german formal "You"(Sie) to the informal "you" (Du) in all of our websites so now we have to scour the entire database to change it and i quite frankly hate that, not just bc the unecessary extra work but especially bc its such a weird and unecessary change

i bet its bc everything here is getting englishfied (both literally and culturally it feels like, when my new boss talks its half in english bc every second german word is just replaced by an english one despite there being perfectly fine words for it in german too, its so annoying) and bc they want to sound more personal in hopes of getting more clients bc 'company is your fwiend uwu!!', i know this here is the amercian tm site so you wouldnt understand really but i do not want to be greeted with 'du' by companies, no, thats too personal, you dont know me and im not giving you my data, stay away!!

i guess thats how i would describe it .. the formal you is like a polite distance, like someone you dont know staying outside your personal space, but when its the informal 'you' it feels invasive unless i told you you can call me that, and that goes double for companies

maybe its a small thing that doesnt seem important but i cant stand it, im just a little part time worker doing data work so i got no say in it but the companies founder also announced hes giving his post to his kids some time ago so ...... since then theres been alot of changes and new projects that solely aim to imitate whats popular and whats done by other companies, despite ours being one that is, or used to be, intentionally different, like, that was the POINT, but i guess chasing trends is just too appealing for CEOs

[seasideoranges]

idk if it’s just me but the whole “which atla kid in the gaang is the most mature” debates can get redundant and kind of exhausting at times. they’re kids. they’re multifaceted characters. they’re mature in some departments and immature in others. they have their strengths and weaknesses. also they’re kids lol.

[uncanny-tranny]

I know other adults like to joke about how much pain they're in, but genuinely, please try to get your pain checked out if you're an adult experiencing it, or at least adapt your life in whatever way lessens your pain.

Your pain deserves to be addressed. Please don't "let" it get worse because you've been told that to grow older is to suffer. No, you aren't being needy or selfish or annoying. Ultimately, you are the one who suffers the most from the state of your health, and it's entirely reasonable to want your health to be up to your standards.

[moeblob]

You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)