#surprise sasi feels

[pencilpat]

Sanders Sides: College AU - Part 8

Part 1 | Previous Part | Read on Ao3

They lay down together, and Roman sets his head under her chin for a moment, letting himself just hold onto her. They have more in common than he ever thought.

Roman has an encounter with his father and goes to Logan for comfort. Remus learns about Patton's secret.

Hi SaSi followers, this AU is back!

[CW: emotionally abusive relationship with father, that's all for this chapter]

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Roman hardly ever sleeps in, even on the weekend. He’s always up at at least 6 a.m., working out, showering, having coffee with oat milk and caramel syrup, and then watching television until the rest of the house wakes up. He has had the same routine since early high school and he sees no reason to change it, thank you very much. He’s in the middle of preparing said coffee when Patton comes into the kitchen, rubbing their eyes. “Morning, Pat,” he sings, which earns him a sleepy chuckle and then an exaggerated groan.

“Good morning, Roman,” they yawn, moving to pour their own coffee. Roman sidesteps them to allow them room, moving into the dining room to talk to them through the doorway. “Did your workout go well?”

“Oh, without question or doubt!” he says, flexing his arm, which thankfully does show muscle so he’s not just embarrassing himself. He looks between it and Patton with a smile, and Patton claps twice softly, laughing.

“I have work todayyy,” they whine out as they pour vanilla and chocolate syrup into their mug.

“Oh, you poor baby! Come on, Pat, you really only work weekends anyhow.”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say, Mr. Allowance!”

Roman gasps in exaggerated offense. “Hey, can it!”

“No, you!”

Roman is about to retort when they're both distracted by a car pulling into their driveway. Looking at each other in confusion, they move to the window together to see a shimmering black sports car with a driver getting out. Roman feels like a knot just twisted his stomach to bits, and he swallows dryly. “Oh god, oh god, what? They didn’t tell me they were visiting any time soon, ah, my hair is still wet and the living room is a mess, oh god!” Roman goes rushing into the living room in a whirl, leaving Patton behind in anxious silence as they watch the driver open the back door.

A very tall, broadly built man with slicked back brown hair gets out from the door the driver opens, dark sunglasses nearly falling off his nose as he looks over them at the house. He’s talking on the phone, and Patton is thankful for Roman’s sake that their friend will have a moment to make things presentable. Roman scurries around in the living room shoving things into crates or drawers to get them out of sight, he doesn’t have time to actually clean. As he goes, he meticulously adjusts his hair so that as much of the white streak is covered by his other hair as he can manage, reminding himself to breathe since he suddenly seems to be forgetting how. Eventually, his father knocks on the door, his typical shave-and-a-haircut pattern which Roman completes the rhythm of on the inner side before opening the door while contorting his face into the most pleasantly surprised face he can manage.

“Dad! You didn’t tell me you were, uh, stopping by!”

His father laughs, scratching his chin and grinning. “Mijo! Come give dad a hug, huh, what’s gotten into you? Too old for that now or something?”

“Oh- pff- no, of course not,” Roman sputters awkwardly, letting his father wrap his arms around him. He smells like cigar smoke and one of his many overly expensive colognes. He pats his son’s back, but doesn’t linger.

As he pulls back, he begins to mess with Roman’s hair, tutting as he tucks the white even further away. “I was in the area for work and thought I might stop by. That won’t be an issue. Right, Roman?” He peers at him over his sunglasses, smiling even though his eyes glint with a test for resistance.

“Oh, no, no that’s not an issue, papa.” Roman looks at the ground, stepping to the side to let his dad enter before him. He steps into the doorway, brown leather shoes clicking on the hardwood as he takes in the house he pays for.

“Mijo, it’s such a mess in here. You know I wanted to hire you a cleaner, you college kids are all the same. Probably having giant parties every weekend, hm?”

“No, dad, I don’t have parties in here, just like mom asked,” Roman jumps to reassure him, shifting from foot to foot behind him.

“Stop that fidgeting, son,” he says, waving a hand at him as he sits on the sofa. Roman immediately stills himself as much as he can, eyes still trained on the floor. “And who’s our spy over there, huh?” he laughs, drawing attention to Patton in the doorway of the dining room.

They step fully into sight, clearing their throat. “Just me, ha! Hi, Mr. Carmona, uh, how unexpected!”

“Patton, there he is, I thought that was you. Don’t you look worse for wear, it’s not that early, is it?”

Patton lets out a strained laugh, self-consciously tugging at their sleep bonnet with a forced smile as they attempt to ignore the careless ‘he’ that left the older man’s mouth. “Ah, you’re always such a jokester, Mr. Carmona. You’re right though, I have work to go to soon. So. Uh. Yep!” And with a double thumbs up, Patton is gone to their room, leaving a desperate looking Roman in the dust.

His father turns to look at him behind the black lenses, his smile looking a bit more like bared teeth to Roman. “You look fit, though you could be dressed better. Even around the house, you’ve got an image to maintain, right Roman?”

“Yes, dad, of course. I- I usually am dressed better, I was working out, just getting some coffee before dressing up proper-“

“Working out, hm? That’s my boy, thinking about going into sports after all, just like your old man did?”

“Well, ah-“ Roman sighs, choosing to not even discuss his theatre classes. “We’ll see! There’s always the chance later on.”

“Better get to it fast, you only have so many chances with college teams. And we both know you’ve already ruined the chance for a business degree.” Roman stiffens at the words, looking even more pointedly at the floor. There’s a pause of tense staring, before his father breaks out into laughter. “Kidding, son I’m kidding! Of course I’m kidding. You are so uptight, loosen up a little!” He pats the couch. “Come sit, relax, it’s your house after all.” Roman pulls his lips into a stiff smile, sitting down next to him. He swears the air between them is physically thick with tension, pressing his sweaty palms into his thighs to try and resist the desperate need to fidget.

“So,” he clears his throat. “Was there anything you needed to stop by for?”

“Just a visit, is all. I always want to see my favorite boy, you know that,” he grins, finally removing his sunglasses, his eyes nearly the exact same shade of green as Roman’s. Roman hates it. “Especially now that you’re the only heir, I need to make sure you’re being taught well, living well – I want my company going to someone smart and strong.” Unlike Remus, is what Roman hears behind those words, clenching his jaw to stay silent. His dad runs a hand over his hair, which stays perfectly in place. “Anyways, how is school going? And hell, how’s that Virgil kid doing? Haven’t seen him out here yet. Does he sleep in this late? You really shouldn’t surround yourself with people like that, you know-“

“No, dad, he’s at work. Virgil works night shifts on weekends, over into the morning. He’s very hard-working and determined, just like he was in high school. And middle school.”

“What’s he working at right now?”

Roman cringes internally. “Uh. Fast food, but that’s just a college job. Remember, he’s in the engineering courses?”

“Hm! Smart profession!” his father says, scratching at his chin and nodding in approval. Roman reminds himself to actually breathe again.

“Yes, he’s always been smart. Much more than me and Remus, that’s for sure.”

His dad chuckles darkly, folding his hands over themselves. “Oh, come on now. You don’t need to be thinking about him, Roman.”

Roman’s joints stiffen, locking him in place under his father’s gaze. “Right. Silly me. Sorry.” He tries to keep an edge out of his voice, but it bites through anyways.

He can’t see his face, but he feels his father’s weight shift towards him, feels his breathing move closer. “You need to tell me something, mijo?” he poses in an overly casual tone. “Because if you’re still involved with your brother your mother and I would be very disappointed. Is that clear?”

Roman looks up, finally, meeting his father’s eyes evenly, swallowing all his fear in one quiet gulp. “Crystal clear, dad. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

In their room, Patton is almost fully ready when they hear the front door open and close again. Peeking down the hall, they listen. They hear a quiet, soft heaving noise, like Roman’s choking on the air he tries to breathe. Stepping out, they walk to him, quick. “Roman, buddy?” they call from the side of him. The noises immediately cease and Roman sniffs, turning to look at them.

“Yes, Pat?” All emotion is gone from his face, and he looks bizarrely gaunt and hollow in the sunlight.

“Take it that was no fun, per usual.”

“Mhh,” is all he offers, listing backwards until he’s laying across the couch, closing his eyes. He throws an arm over his eyes, waving his other hand at them dismissively. “I’ll be alright in a little while, nothing to fret. Go to work, okay? I’m good. I’m good.”

Patton can tell that this is more Roman trying to convince himself of it than the actual truth of his emotions, but they also knows that Roman never cries if someone is watching him, so they let it be. Finishing getting ready quickly, they come back out with their bag and everything ready to go. They walk over to him, still in the exact same position on the sofa. “See you in a bit, okay, Rom? Love you, buddy. You should call Lo, maybe she can keep you company, yeah?�� Roman doesn’t speak in response, and Patton lets it be.

--

Logan has always held herself to a high standard of living. She’s the sort of person you’d stereotype as pulling all-nighters, but that isn’t true of her. Her schedule is so tightly planned, down to the minute, that she gets all of her studying done by 8 p.m. and is in bed by 9 every night. She wakes at 7 a.m. the next morning, has a healthy breakfast, usually of oatmeal and the correct portion size of whatever fruit is in season. It’s a cool day today, so she opens her window - as much as it will open, which is a crack half its length – and lets the room air out as she eats. Her eyes close to the light breeze as she eats, attempting to finish quickly despite knowing she has time.

After eating, at exactly 8:30, she gets dressed for work since it’s the weekend. Lo has a job at a fast-food joint nearby, and while the pay is definitely not good, it pays for her apartment and the bit of tuition she has left after her scholarship. Patting down her clothes one last time, she checks it over for wrinkles. Even though it’s nothing but a black polo and a company apron, she will keep it clean and neat no matter what.

Picking up her wallet and keys, Lo is tying up her hair before going out the door, when there’s a knock on it. She pauses dead still for a moment. She isn’t expecting anyone, and the sudden wrench in her routine makes her frown in annoyance. Opening the door stiffly, she snaps out a ‘yes?’ before noticing who it is. “Oh,” she says, shoulders relaxing. “Roman? What are you doing here? I have- work…” She trails off when she takes note of how exhausted he looks, outfit only half as fabulous as usual with a simple half buttoned button up and pants.

“I- I know,” he says, hands wringing for a moment before he forcibly stops himself and puts them at his side. “I wanted to see you, though, even if it’s just for a bit?” He nervously meets her eyes for just a moment, sighing.

Logan blinks rapidly as she tries to consider what to do. Work, her schedule, her routine. She can’t just take a day off, surely, she hasn’t ever taken a day off of her job. But Roman, he needs her. But her job. But Roman.

“Um, Lo? Are you alright? I can go if I need to.”

Logan phases back into reality, her mouth opening and closing uncertainly. “Ah. Well- um. I’m not sure what to do here.” She bites her bottom lip, looking at the floor. “I haven’t ever taken a day off before, especially for something non-illness related. It would be skipping, and I cannot skip.” Roman nods, and she can see him failing to hide the dejected look on his face. She looks at her phone, the alarm notification for work happened five minutes ago now. Six. She breathes in, swallows dryly, and then dials her manager’s number.

-

“Your father sounds miserable to interact with,” Logan ponders, glancing quizzically at Roman. “Why do you entertain him?”

Roman sighs, taking a bite of the cheese fries he got from the food delivery they ordered. “Well, I guess it’s just- I mean, do you not want to impress your parents? No matter what it takes?”

Logan sips from her paper cup of water, glancing to the floor. “My parents are both doctors. They have held me to high standards through my entire schooling. They wanted me to become one as well. They never explained how they felt about- about me going into teaching instead, but it has not felt the same since I told them.”

Roman nods, bringing more food to his mouth even as he responds. “My dad doesn’t like my major either. He went into business, that’s how he’s so rich. My mom’s money helps, but he’s the one really raking it in. You can… imagine his reaction to me going into theatre.”

“Disappointed,” they mutter in unison. They go quiet, both thinking.

“I don’t think we should have to be what they want,” Roman says, leaning his chin on his hand. He hesitates. “But… then, Remus wasn’t what they wanted, and he got kicked out, cut off. I don’t know. I feel like I’m obligated to do what they ask of me, most of the time. My father calls me his heir, he acts like a goddamn king, and I’m his little prince.” Roman angrily swallows his food, glaring at the table.

Logan watches him, eyebrows drawn together. “Do you not want to inherit their wealth? It seems like it would make life so much easier.” She grazes her eyes along the cracked wall behind them, and the cheap furniture that came with the two room apartment that she can barely afford.

“It would, in the way of physical comfort. But- I don’t know, maybe it sounds spoiled.” Roman cuts himself off, but Logan hums, prodding him to continue. “In the emotional sense, I feel completely impoverished.”

Logan smiles slightly. “That does sound spoiled,” she chuckles. “But I understand what you mean, despite the dramatic phrasing.” Roman sticks out his tongue at her, but he’s smiling, and so she assumes he’s not angry. She sets away her water and the wrappings of her food, standing. “Do you want to lie down? I don’t… have a television, but we could watch something on my phone. I can pay for wifi this month.”

Roman ruffles up slightly, trying not to look at her situation with pity. “I have unlimited data, we can watch it on mine,” he offers, taking her hands. Logan looks at him with no expression, then nods. They lay down together, and Roman sets his head under her chin for a moment, letting himself just hold onto her. They have more in common than he ever thought.

--

Lately, Janus has started humming again. She can’t remember the last time she would hum and sing casually, but it was definitely before she even hit middle school. But things have been good lately. Things have been… great even. Aside from the shitty apartment and still existent lack of money, she feels good. And so she’s been humming in the kitchen today. She’s making scones. She also can’t remember the last time she did that. Remus bought the right flour for her, and the blueberries. She bought the rest. They’ve been splitting bills lately – it’s the only way Janus will let him pay.

Remus comes home from the tattoo shop slightly early to the smell of baking and the soft humming of his- girlfriend? Actually, they haven’t discussed what they are now. He watches her from the doorway, smiling like he can’t remember ever doing. They’re happy, that’s what they are. He comes up behind her, and gently, careful not to knock her balance off, wraps an arm around her waist.

“Oh, shit Remus, hi,” she says, startled. She smiles though, turning around from the oven she was keeping watch of. “You’re home early, the scones aren’t even done.”

“Last client cancelled on me today. Remy told me to just go home, heh.” He smiles at her with crooked teeth, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against hers. She stays silent, but she wraps her arms around him in return. He holds her there for a moment, just letting himself be close to her. She smells like sugar and flour.

Janus pulls away with a sigh, leaning her weight back onto the counter. “You are so lucky I’m baking for you, my pain is going to bite me in the ass later thanks to you.”

Remus laughs. “I didn’t even ask you to bake! Why’s it my fault, huh?”

“Because you are at fault for every wrong in the world, clearly.”

“Oh, clearly!” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning.

Janus brushes hair out of her face with baking supplies covered fingers. “Can you go get my phone, Remus? It’s taking forever for these to cook.”

Remus nods, heart skipping at the fact she’s letting him go into her bedroom. He practically skips as he moves to go grab it. It’s on the nightstand, and he picks it up to give to her. It buzzes in his hand and he pauses as a call comes in. He decides to answer it and then bring it to her so that it isn’t missed. “Hello?” he greets.

“Hi, J!” comes a familiar voice. Where does he know that from? “Are we still on for tonight? I wanted to go somewhere that I would like this time, I’m still at my job but I’ll be done soon enough. Answering the phone all day is sooo boring!”

Remus’ eyes widen, and he can’t make himself respond. He does know who that is. It’s his brother’s roommate. Why would they be talking to Janus? Why would they be friends with her at all when Roman’s told them all about her in such a bad light?

“Um, hello? J?” Remus hurriedly hangs up the phone, blinking across at the wall. Hesitantly, he walks out to give her the phone.

“Hey, Jan. Uh, phone!” he says awkwardly as he hands it to her.

“Thank you, Remus, the scones are almost done now. Took you a moment, could you not find it?”

“Uh. Somethin’ like that!”

Janus glances him over. “Something like that?”

“Y-yeah, I guess I was just- I was embarrassed! I’ve never been in there before! You should really clean up your underwear, y’know,” he deflects away from the truth, smiling at her quite convincingly.

She goes slightly red and scoffs at him. “Don’t make it so you never go in there again, Carmona,” she teases him, turning away to hide her blush.

Remus laughs, scratching his calf with his foot, biting at his nails as he rolls the need to do something about this around in his head. “Yeah, Janus. I won’t.”

[casey-complains]

I've felt like this for the past year but man it just feels more and more apparent to me that Joan contributed a lot to SaSi being the way it was for 2017-2020. Like yes Thomas contributed greatly as well, but it wasn't until they got involved that the quality in early SaSi jumped noticeably and the fact the finale has been in the state it's been since they left doesn't feel like a coincidence. Obviously I don't blame them at all for leaving, but it does make me wonder if SaSi would still be where it's at if they hadn't gone.

It's pretty interesting to me that Thomas sought their help to write the Finale earlier this year after apparently being unable to pull it off on his own with whoever is on his writing team (does he have a writing team still?).

I still struggle to grasp in comparison to other YT creators and how they curate their audiences why Thomas has made the choices he makes. I feel like Blanc in Knives Out "It makes no damn sense! It compels me though"

damn , he contacted joan to help him with the finale? im not too surprised if he did, he wrote himself into a Lot of holes with the current sasi plotlines

but i agree with everything else you said 100%! ive said it before, but joan was the heart and soul to a lot of sasi, and everything after they left felt.. hollow

[beauty-and-passion]

Plans for the summer (and the winter)

Hello, everyone.

I hope the weather in your place is nice, your days are long and you are healthy and relaxed.

I am here to give you an update on all the plans I had and the ones that came out in the meantime.

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TMA

The reactions will still go on, don't worry. I started season 3 and I plan to keep them going until the end. Then I will start The Magnus Protocol too, of course.

I'm in no hurry with this series: I like to keep it going slowly and enjoy it ten episodes at a time until the end. So the updates will keep going during summer, winter and maybe up to the next year. Just keep expecting them, I definitely won't drop the series. I want to know how it will end.

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CCCC

This project got my attention and I want to talk more about it. In the last ask I got, I was proposing two ideas:

a very concise analysis of all the songs of Volume 1, made mostly of resumes of the obvious parts, a few considerations and me approving every time these characters show how badass they are.

a short post about how differently the embodiment of Heart and Mind are portrayed here and in Sanders Sides.

The survey is here, and you're still free to vote (if you haven't already). Honestly, I would love to write these posts alternating them with TMA/others, so you won't see just one topic, but some nice variety. Just vote and let me know which idea do you like the most - or if you want me to do them both! I'm open to do that too.

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LORE OLYMPUS

In my last post, I said I would write a new one for when the series is over.

Well, the series is over. And my post won't be kind, nor long: I already talked about all the mistakes of the series, so all that's left is me making fun of its stupid ideas and a finale that was the epitome of "how NOT to write a story".

It will be the first post to come out after this recap, so you'll have it very soon.

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EPIC THE MUSICAL

I just found out that The Thunder Saga will be released on July 4th, bless Jorge Rivera-Herrans for his incredible speed and his creativity. This man makes bops as if nothing, his vision is crystal clear and I respect him for that.

I didn't listen to any snippets and didn't look for any spoiler, because I want to be surprised by the songs themselves: so, once they're out, I will definitely write a post about them in a couple days.

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THE BOOK OF BILL

Once it's out and I will get it (probably from August 2nd, since that's the delivery day on my Amazon), I will become a mess and talk about it endlessly, so I apologize in advance for who I will become.

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A MANGA I MENTIONED

Eons ago, I said there was a manga I wanted to talk about. Well, that manga is finished. But I have to read it from the beginning, before talking about it. And right now, I don't really feel like it.

For now, I will keep this in the back. Maybe this winter (or even next year), I will talk about it.

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SANDERS SIDES

I am sorry to say that I do not have plans for SaSi for now - well, except for hte post in connection with CCCC. Mr. Sanders is giving us nothing, so there's nothing really new I can write.

But that doesn't mean we can't talk. On the contrary, you can still send me asks and/or tag me in some posts and we can have a nice chat about anything, from details of the series to criticism. Having nothing new doesn't mean we can't have fun our way.

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WHAT ELSE?

Those are my plans for now, but who knows what else will come in a couple months? I wasn't expecting CCCC and it came, it saw and it conquered without expecting it. So... who knows? Maybe in a couple months, I will get another suggestion and my plans will change again. I'm open to possible new things to enjoy.

As always, thank you all for sticking with me, thank you for your asks, comments, reblogs, likes and suggestions. Every feedback is wonderful and I am extremely grateful for it.

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

TAGLIST:

@royalprinceroman @mudpuddlenl @allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia @whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders​  @idontreallyknow24​  @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake​  @hereissananxiousmess​  @purplebronzeandblue​  @cynicalandsarcastic​ ​@lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire​ 

@riseofthewerewolf​ @rosesandlove44​​  @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan​ @arya-skywalker  @csi-baker-street-babes @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @reesiereads @dracayd-universe​ @starlightnyx​ @stubbornness-and-spite​ @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing

@thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella  @boopypastaissalty @nevenastark @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @coldbookworm @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter  @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist

[transfemlogan]

i genuinely hope frostlght on twitter gets the support that they need. i know what it is like as a disabled neurodivergent person to struggle with getting medical help and not being able to afford it. I was refused medical help my entire childhood because of my abusive father and even now struggle with setting up appointmentsa and getting help.

a lot of the shit theyre saying looks like a desperate cry for help, whether or not it is true. it reads like something I would've posted back in middle school when I first developed my schizospec traits and wad dealing with a lot of depression— or even something I'd post a few months ago when I first moved out.

And it does suck, if this person is telling the truth, that they don't have any evidence or proof of this. I deleted my discord, all my screenshots, lost all of my friends when trying to speak out about it, and any other proof of my ex abusing me. and while I would not attempt to speak up about it in any situation, mainly because I do not hold any ill feelings towards her anymore, but if I wanted to I would literally be unable to. I have nothing but my words and memory, which are fucked due to trauma. so I like fully get it, but obviously no one can just take what you are saying and believe it because these are serious ass allegations.

We don't even have a specific timeline, no one knows how old either of them were or when it happened. we dont even know what happened specifically.

I won't talk anymore about this situation, as I don't want to give them more negative attention & the way every single person I've seen talk to this user do it in an incredibly horrifying and untactful way. But it is genuinely heart breaking.

Also, I donated. I hope it helps at all, atlas 🧡 (if you somehow see this, but you are blocking sasi fans so I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't)

[baubeautyandthegeek]

I Think I Love You - Ro Laren/Katrina Cornwell

A/N: Kat rescues Ro, doesn’t she? AU as of last episode of Picard. Thanks to @cleverlycrusher​ for giving me feels.... and a new ship.  

“Sholey solem…” It takes a minute for Ro to register that she is, in fact, not dead. Singed a little, sore, pissed off… but alive. Every instinct tells her to yell, scratch, claw at this other woman and she almost, almost does, pinning the woman to the floor, flat on her back, phaser to her chin. Then she recognises her. Katrina Cornwell. Dead, supposedly. “Ah’no balchi…” Ro’s voice is husky, soft and full of pain. Katrina waits for a moment, merely taking in this tall, thin, headstrong warrior who despite being slightly burnt and definitely shaken had still defaulted to fighting for her life, before gently pushing Ro off her, quick to catch her head in a palm when Ro comes a little to close to hitting her head on the floor. “Don’t be… are you alright?” “Are you?” Ro asks with a slight laugh, moving to stand, then pull Katrina up, dusting her off lightly. “What the hell did you even do?” “Perks of being essentially immortal… I kinda… pulled you out of the shuttle at the last minute.” “Yeah, that’s…” Ro shakes her head then huffs a laugh. “Thanks? I guess.” “You’re welcome… I guess.” Kat’s smirk is clear and Ro wants so badly to shove her for her cheek, but she can’t help smiling. Then Kat surprises her, holding out a hand, an earring laying flat in her palm. “How…” “Like I said, immortality perks.” Kat still didn’t really understand how she’d made it through the explosion, she didn’t much care, she’d been spared to save this woman. Destiny, perhaps. She’s still smiling at Ro, even now and Ro pauses then speaks softly. “You mind helping…” “Put it on? It would be my honor.” Kat promises and she’s truthful about that, Ro knows that instantly, her smile fades as she focuses, gentle, cautious, still very much the same woman who had caught her head before she smacked it against the floor.  Despite everything, Ro feels a flicker of attraction. Can she really be that lucky? “Joi… I mean…” “I know. Sasi.” The simple gesture of whispered Bajoran melts Ro just a little and she pauses before she speaks softly. “So are we… am I…” “People will think you died but… I’m pretty sure you just joined me in immortality…” “Is that why the…” “Singed skin? Probably.” Kat mutters, guiding Ro naturally towards the medical wing. They are alone here, she will have to do, and then she fixes the burns, her smile soft when Ro blushes and adjusts the singed shirt. “Nothing to be ashamed of… we all have our scars.” Her words are true, Ro finds, Kat has long since freed herself from her jacket, choosing to simply wear her tank top, displaying proud scratches and scars, the cut to her collarbone drawing Ro’s attention a little too easily and Kat smiles slightly when she reaches, then stops herself. “It’s okay… go ahead.” Ro shakes her then, muttering a quiet curse. “I…” “Yes?” “I think… I think I love you, is that… possible?” Kat’s smile is bright then and she laughs, a sound so gentle and pure that Ro swears she could spend a lifetime making her laugh like that. “I hope so…” Kat’s voice dips softly. “Pretty sure I love you too.” Bajoran Translations: “Welcome Back” “I’m Sorry” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.”

[oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat]

Birthday Boy

I moved my other story from my inactive blog (@/sasi-whump) to here. Nothing new, sorry.

Description: birthdays are meant to be celebrated, but Virgil doesn't have much to celebrate.

Warning: unreality, implied imprisonment, manipulation, food, implied/referenced memory loss, implied possessive character

Extra: Happy Birthday, Virgil! Hope this is the right amount of whump for our favourite emo.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

A birthday is meant to celebrate another year of life, of living, of surviving through another chapter of your life.

To Virgil, however, it's nothing but a reminder of everything he wants to forget.

He's not even sure if it's really his birthday. It's December, yes, but... is it the nineteenth? Has it passed? Is it before? He's not entirely sure.

There's no calendar in his room, if you can call it that. It's a room, but it doesn't feel like his. It's all blank and foggy and grey. There's a bed, frame and mattress. Pillows, blankets, a closet full of clothes, and there's even a vanity. There's no windows, though. Just a small vent so close to the ceiling that he can't even reach it. It brings in the fresh air, so maybe he should be grateful for it. Be grateful.

There's a door, but... well, he hasn't figured out how to unlock it yet.

He has a bathroom, too. It's small, but it has everything he needs. A toilet, a sink, a bathtub and a shower head. It's nice. It's not like he doesn't have what he needs. He's not being deprived of anything. It's so dumb, being locked away in this room. But he gets fed! Food comes at the same time- or what he thinks is the same time- everyday, and it's good food. It's not bread scarps; it's actual meals with fruit and protein. He gets water. He's not malnourished, not really.

He's not even chained to the walls or anything. He just can't... leave. He wants to leave. But that's the thing, isn't it? Why would anyone want to leave such a nice place, keeping him safe and fed and taken care of? What's so wrong with Virgil that he'd want to leave?

So greedy.

A knock on his door breaks him from his thoughts.

"Oh, little V! Guess whose birthday it is?"

Virgil freezes in his spot on his bed as the voice echoes into the room.

"It's yours! You know what that means, don't you? Of course, you do. Some birthday fun! Want to know what kind of birthday fun?"

Go away, go away, go away, go away, go away-

"Aw, why so quiet? You know, you never really talk, not anymore. I miss our banter! What happened, little V, finally learning not to be so rude and greedy?"

Virgil stays stuck on his bed, silent as fear gets lodged in his throat.

"Well, if you finally learn your lesson like I've been teaching, maybe I'll let you out for a treat! I'll even make birthday cake. Sounds nice, right?"

Virgil swallows a whimper at the sound of being let out. He wants that. He wants to see outside of this fucking room, to see something not-grey. To be let out, even for a minute, a second would be so refreshing. He wants that; he needs that. Good god, he's wanted that for so long. He just wants out.

"Hmm... why not, little V? It is your birthday, after all. Make sure you're decent in about five minutes, and we'll have all sorts of fun. I already have some surprises for you."

Virgil waits until he can hear them walk away, their footsteps fading as they leave the door. He lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, his shoulders slumping slightly.

He doesn't like surprises. Surprises usually entail some... questionable things. They always have fun, but he doesn't. If he says he doesn't, it just gets worse. But then they expect him to communicate and tell them things, and- and... it's best to avoid surprises if he can.

But he wants out, so badly, and that means facing surprises. He hates not knowing what it'll be, but it's not like he's been let out before. He doesn't even remember if there is a 'before'. Before he was in this room, before he could only talk through a locked door, before he learned to stop talking, before all he knew was his own face and... and... was there a 'before'? Hasn't it always been like this? Does he know any different? Would he know? Would he?

He really wants out, and this may be his only chance.

He gets dressed, out of his soft pajamas, and sits on the edge of his bed. His leg bounces impatiently, both excited to see outside his room and afraid for what the surprises could be. He wears his signature hoodie, purple patches and all. His eye shadow is a little rushed, but he didn't want to risk being late and missing his chance. He remains tense as he waits, hands clenched in his hoodie pocket.

Footsteps come to the door. The jingling of keys. The sound of a lock turning, softly unlocking. A small, warm chuckle as the door slowly creaks out, spreading bright light from outside. Virgil has to squint his eyes for a moment, not used to that bright of a light. He has a working light, yes, but it's noticeably dimmer than the one shining from outside. Well, noticeable now that Virgil finally sees it.

Virgil forces himself to still his leg and stay put as the door opens all the way. He finally sees a glimpse of not-grey walls from behind his Keeper. He finally sees his Keeper, their actual appearance. They're just a tad shorter than him, not by much, and seem... warm? For some reason, they radiate warmth. Maybe it's just Virgil, but that's the only thing he can describe them as. What else would they be? They take care of him. They do take care of him... right?

"Already ready and waiting, hm? You seem to be doing well today, little V. Maybe today will be a good birthday after all!"

His Keeper's voice is almost modulated, but Virgil hears it as a sweet and caring tone. As if it's genuine, heart-felt and true.

What else could they be other than caring? They've always taken care of me. I was the problem, and they just wanted me to be better. I have to learn. I always have to learn.

"C'mon! Follow me out to your first surprise. This'll be so fun," Keeper chuckles lightly as they gesture for Virgil to come along.

Virgil silently stands and does as bid. He trembles slightly as he walks out into the brighter area. His eyes adjust as his mind wanders off, thinking what the first surprise could be. Something tolerable, hopefully. He knows the kind that aren't very tolerable, and he hopes none of them happen today.

He hides his hands in his pocket as his Keeper leads him out to a... a gathering room? Wait no- oh, a living room. It's just a living room. When was the last time he saw one of these? Has he ever seen one before? He can't recall.

There's a couch, a love seat, and a coffee table that separates them from the tv. It's all decorated in a simple, monochromatic style. Some sort of theme about feathers and the colour blue. It looks pretty, to say the least. There are a few gold accents here and there. It's... nice. It's all very nice.

Looks cozy, is all Virgil can spare to think about the decor.

Keeper sits on the couch, beckoning for Virgil to sit next to them. he hesitates, but he thinks it best to obey over not as Keeper raises an eyebrow. A pleased smile grows on their face as their 'ward' sits next to them. They grab something from under the coffee table- a small box, wrapped in coloured paper- and shows the anxious birthday boy. It's small, covered in a darker purple paper and tied together with a goldish ribbon. It's a birthday present. Virgil's eyes light up at the sight of a possible reward. That's what he hopes it is, anyway.

The goldish yellow ribbon looks... familiar. The yellow reminds him of something, someone, but he's sure who or what would be. He tries to think and reaches for a memory, but- well, he can't remember. All he can think of is snake scales before Keeper catches his attention.

They pass the present to Virgil, and he grabs it with shaking hands. He sets in his lap as he looks at it longer, such a pretty little box. Keeper just watches them, noticing his hands. They hum, making a mental note.

Why so shaky? Do you not like your surprise? Am I really that bad of a caretaker to you? Don't be selfish, child. I give you everything. I take care of you, Keeper refrains from questioning him for now. They can always do it later, if the little shakes persist.

"Open it," they say instead.

Virgil smooths the paper over, feeling for the folds. He neatly unwraps it, not wanting to make a mess and upset his Keeper. The paper reveals a generic shoebox. He lifts the lid, and he gasps at the object inside. It's small, like the shoebox. It's a black keychain. Instead of a key attached to the end of it, there's some sort of charm connected by a short and dark chain. It's made out of wood, hand-painted with the words 'for good kids' etched on the back it. It's shaped like a spider, different hues of purple decorating it. Its eyes are yellow, and there's an hourglass shape painted on its abdomen. It's almost like a fully-purple black widow spider; it's one of Virgil's favourite spiders. He can't remember why, though. Black widows remind him of something else. Another person, maybe? He tries to think, but he can find is a vague memory of green. He shakes the thought away as he turns to Keeper.

"Do you like it, little V?"

Virgil nods, still holding the personalized keychain in one hand.

"I'm glad! Maybe once you've learned how to be good entirely, you can add a key to it. It's why I keep you in your room, you know. Once you can be better, then you won't have to be in there all the time."

Virgil's breathing nearly stops for a moment.

I could have a key for my room? Really? I could- I... omg.

The pure look of hope almost makes Keeper snicker again. He's not there yet. He's not good enough, not better enough, not pliant enough. Not yet. But with my help, he'll get there. He'll get better.

"Oh, but who would want to leave that nice room? You get everything you could ever want, don't you?"

Virgil falters a little. He does get a lot. He's not deprived of anything he needs to live, to survive. Don't get greedy. They hate when you're greedy. He just nods.

"Use your words, child."

His throat feels dry. It shouldn't. He knows to use words and speak. It's fine. This isn't something new. He just... doesn't speak as often anymore.

"I- I do," he stumbles, his voice sounding hoarse.

"Mm. Are you alright, child? You don't sound too good. I would hate to have your birthday surprises end so soon. We haven't even had cake yet."

"No- no, I'm okay. Jus' a little... thirsty."

Keeper raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

"Thank you for the key- keychain."

Keeper smiles a careful smile, appearing sweet as they always do.

"No problem, little V. You seem to be doing so good. Maybe you'll find more presents around? But before that, I think we should dig into dinner and have some cake. It's about dinner time, anyway."

Virgil's chest feels warm at the praise. He's doing good. He hasn't make his Keeper upset so far. That's good. Maybe his birthday will be good.

"C'mon, then. I'll show you the dining room and the kitchen."

Virgil stands without thinking about it, following Keeper blindly. He clenches his spider keychain in his hand, hiding it in his pocket as he rests his hands in there again. The wrapping paper ends up shut away in the shoebox, of which sits on the coffee table to be trashed later.

Maybe I'll finally be good enough today.

Oh, how wrong Virgil's hopes are. Unknown to him, Keeper intends on keeping their ward 'safe' and locked away in his room for as long as they possibly can. A new reward, that's all today is. Just another incentive for their ward to listen and become pliant with them. They'll never truly let Virgil go.

And later that day, Virgil learns just how exactly possessive Keeper can get.

He learns he still is too greedy, and all he wants then is to forget his birthday ever happened.

[soysaucevictim]

Weeks 7 & 2.

-

Apr. 25

I got up a bit before 1PM.

First, today’s DD. 40 squat + step back with EC. This was just manageable.

Second, Day 37 of the 60DoC. Level 3, 1′ rest. Just manageable, but got me pretty winded. I did like how it starts more aerobic/intense and drops off in each set. Really liking the overall structure of this program!

Third, Day 7 of the C&AC. 3x push-ups to failure. Went for 24-18-12 again. Pretty challenging, might’ve been a bit sloppier than the past few days - but good enough for today. We try to tighten up my form again, next time.

Last, Day 7 of the DSC. I just did some jabs+crosses for the 100 - swapping stances at 50. A fun one, as usual.

I then did some dishes, made some dinner, worked on my WRAP, and eventually got some more art progress in.

Didn’t get to bed on time, even though I had every opportunity to do so. But given productivity, I wasn’t so upset about that.

-

Apr. 26

I woke up around the same time as yesterday, proper.

First, today’s DD. 40 plank-knee-to-elbows with EC (from knees, 20/20.) This was relatively breezy work, does take a bit of focus to remain balanced. But that made it enjoyable.

Second, Day 38 of the 60DoC. Level 3, 1′ rest. Those jumping lunges were pretty much the sole reason for not keeping the rests shorter. Got me pretty bushed and I regretted just having ginger snaps beforehand. :P

Third, Day 8 of the C&AC. 4x20 shoulder taps. Decided to heed the given rests again. It takes a bit of resolve to keep the plank still and not rock.

Last, Day 8 of the DSC. Same approach and experience as yesterday.

I spent a good deal of the rest of my day archiving some fit log entries and making a therapy journal entry covering mid-Feb to end of March. That took a lot more time and energy than anticipated, but it was necessary.

Despite that, I was able to get to bed in the yellow zone.

-

Apr. 27

I woke up a bit before noon today. (Yay!)

First, today’s DD. 1′ flutter kicks with EC. I counted 90 reps by the end of it - 1.5/sec was a p good pace. But it was a bit of a case of “how many seconds left, already?“

Second, Day 39 of the 60DoC. Level 3, 30″ rest. After a false start plus the first couple sets - I wasn’t sure if that amount of rest was sustainable. But after warming up as I went + digging in, I was able to get  to the end. Arm raises were a nice breather moment, but did take some juice out of my arms.

Third, Day 9 of the C&AC. 3x push-ups to failure. 24-18-10, again. This was certainly made a lot tougher because of arm fatigue - but I got through it (not with the most stellar form, but whatever.)

Last, Day 9 of the DSC. For today’s 100 punches, same appoach as the past couple days. But unlike them - accrued muscle fatigue did make things less breezy (despite still being fun to do.)

Did some dishes, made some dinner, chatting, and art progress afterwards.

Barely got to bed in the yellow zone. I will take it.

-

Apr. 28

Another day I got up before noon again.

First, today’s DD. 40 side bridges with EC (20/20). This was a bit of a challenge, but manageable. It’s a bit funny to try to switch sides as quickly as you can.

Second, Day 40 of the 60DoC. Level 3, 1′ rest. Everything was relatively okay, except them squat hops. Quads and especially haves got real tired. Did have a few moments flirting with that bliss point that jacks seem to create - but alas the load didn’t hit that Goldilocks Zone.

Third, Day 10 of the C&AC. 4x22 shoulder taps. Pretty simple and relatively breezy - because the arms had plenty of juice after previous workout.

Last, Day 10 of the DSC. Didn’t do anything fancy/different this time. But it was pretty fun, as usual.

Spent some time chatting and reading after that. Took a pretty late shower before going to bed (in the yellow, again.)

-

Apr. 29

I woke up around the same time again.

Spent time on the usual before heading out to the laundromat to get laundry done (sick of dealing with the Uncle at this fucking point). Listened to some Sawbones while I folded up my laundry and got going with my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 2′ squat hold punches with EC. This was right intense, especially after the first 1′. I counted 275 reps by the end.

Second, Day 41 of the 60DoC. Level 3, 1′ rest. I didn’t look forward to the up & down today. I opted to do all transitions in steps.

Third, Day 11 of the C&AC. 4x push-ups to failure. 24-18-12-6. This was rough and got a bit sloppy. Especially when stacked on top of the main workout. Took awhile to get the ears to feel okay - so that load might not have been the best to target (given the added set).

Last, Day 11 of the DSC. After a good few minutes sitting on floor to get various pressures to stabilize, I went for it. Nothing otherwise different about the experience/approach.

Afterwards, spent some time chatting, fiddling with Habitica, and listening to Sawbones. But, I did get to bed in the yellow zone again.

-

Apr. 30

I woke up closer to 11AM, today.

After a bit of YouTube, I went into today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD.20 raised leg crunches with EC. Manageable, form was just okay. But I felt good enough to count it.

Second, Day 42 of the 60DoC. Level 3, no rest. This was made possible by being mostly march steps and entirely pretty low-impact work. Nice step down from yesterday.

Third, Day 12 of the C&AC. 4x24 shoulder taps. Not much worth noting other than it was doable work.

Last, Day 12 of the DSC. Did nothing fancy/creative with my punches, today. But I do still enjoy doing them!

Spent time watching YouTube, listening to Sawbones, and some art progress.

But, for once I barely got to bed in the green zone.

-

May 1

I woke up before noon again.

First thing I did was today’s DD. 2′ jumping jacks with EC. I spent the start going deliberately slowish to find a pace I could sustain, but I find myself going faster anyways. I counted 118 reps by the end, very nearly hit 1/sec on average. But it was no less intense.

Afterward, spent time fixing up the family the next Hello Fresh meal - Cheesy Portobello Mushroom Cups. This was just middling. Might do better in stemming the mushrooms a little more. I personally enjoyed it well enough.

Then, I found myself helping a family member down from an anxiety spike. And I felt kind of accomplished?

Did some work putting together sleep data and making a therapy journal entry for April.

Watched the new Sanders Sides episode with a friend (who I recently got them interested in it.) Which, let me tell you, was DENSE with ideas to chew on. I loved it.

Last things I did before bed were dishes and trying out another gratitude challenge for the month. I barely got to bed in the yellow zone, but I’ll take it for what it is.

[tacticaldiary]

Hiii! I hope you’re doing well lovely! I was so excited to see your requests were back on omg so i’m v sleep deprived so i don’t know if this will make sense but can i request a scenario where dazai and the reader are on a mission and the reader gets hurt (shot maybe) but can use their ability to slow the bleeding (idk what kind of ability but oops) until yosano can heal them. dazai can’t do anything except watch them in pain and just hope yosano hurries but as soon as they are healed it’s just dazai clinging to the reader and giving him love 🥺 i really hope this makes sense and thank you sm if you write it 💜

Sluggish

Pairing: Reader x Dazai Osamu

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Is this what she felt like whenever he got hurt? Helpless and afraid?

He's never felt such a feeling of dread.

Watching her face scrunch up in pain as she collapses is terrifying, even for him. His own gun come up, his shot accurate and successful, taking down the last of their enemies in the vicinity. The bastard had been hiding behind one of the boxes.

Calling out her name, discarding his gun, he runs to kneel beside her. His critical gaze gives her a once over, catching on her leg. His hand reaches out to grab hers.

"My bad." She winces, shifting to sit up.

"Yosano will be here soon." He replies. "The guy who shot you is gone. You're safe now." He shuffles forwards to support her with his arms.

Y/N shakes her head and pushes him away.

"Don't touch me." She manages to say, shaking his hand off. Dazai is surprised for a second, but he draws back.

"Love, you can't-"

"I need to use my ability." She sasy through gritted teeth, he voice shaking. Her leg is bleeding profusely, the blood already having seeped through her pants, creating a puddle under her leg.

The amount of blood is startling, and Dazai watches as she places hand on her leg, shuddering at the jolt of pain it sends through her.

He clenches his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her. He feels the unbearable urge to want to take her pain away. The tears running down her face make his heart ache.

He should've realised the man was there sooner. He swears, in a dark thought, that this organisation wouldn't live to see the sunrise tomorrow.

White lights flashes around her leg and the bleeding becomes sluggish. She sighs, the activation taking a lot of her, and her arm gives away.

Dazai cannot catch her in fear of her ability deactivating. It's all he can do to watch her fall and hit the ground, letting out a pained whimper as her wound is jolted.

Her ability slows bleeding but doesn't do anything for the pain.

He wants to reach out, to touch her, to comfort her, do anything instead of sitting there and watching her suffer alone.

The utter feeling of helplessness is overwhelming. He cannot touch her. He watches her grit her teeth and shift into a more comfortable position and his heart aches.

"Sorry...Should've...should have seen him." She mutters after she's caught her breath, It's said through harsh breaths and clenched shut eyes.

"Don't. This isn't your fault." He reassures her in a gentle voice. It's the gentlest she's ever heard him speak. Nothing boisterous and loud.

The best he can do is sit there beside her, let her know he's there and watch her in pain until Yosano and the other back up team arrives. He can't move her in fear of aggravating her wound, nor can he leave to seek help sooner.

There's no way he's leaving her alone here, in harms way.

"The bullet wound is the least of your worries." He tries to joke. "Yosano's the one who's going to heal you." She lets out a breathy chuckle, mingled with one of the sharp exhales. Her leg is throbbing and burning.

"Better than dying." She says with difficulty. Dazai has to stop himself from reaching out again. It's like an instinct that's difficult to subdue.

"Better than dying." He confirms, closing his eyes and willing her to stop trembling in front of him. Every pant, every yelp tears through him, a strong reminder that he wasn't quick enough.

It’s not long before the team comes rushing to the scene. Yosano takes one look at Y/N and her gaze hardens. With a quick reassurance to Dazai that she’d be alright, and a shaky smile from Y/N, Dazai watches as she’ whisked away into the nearest private room.

He sees her the next day at the office and immediately wraps his arms around her, clinging to her.

“Finally! I trust you’re all better now?” Y/N laughs, still notably tired. 

“Better than I’ve ever been.” The whole day, Dazai does not leave her side. He has to make up for before somehow.

It’s starts with him dragging his chair to Y/N’s desk, plopping down right next to her.

“If you’re going to be a distraction then-”

“Me? I would never!” He exclaims as his arms slither around her waist and he lays his head on her shoulder. “I’m not stopping you from working.” He wanted to be close to her, feels this irrational need to make sure she’s alright, even though he knows she’s fine now.

Y/N sighs and nods, going back to her paperwork. She can’t deny she doesn’t like his attention, especially when he starts pressing small, lingering kisses to wherever he can reach. Her desk is near the back of the room, so she rarely gets disturbed. 

Of course it’d be the perfect place for Dazai to pull this.

She stifles a yawn, he tiredness from going through Yosano’s treatment, as well ad Dazai’s warmth pressed against her prompting her eyes to flutter shut.

“Stop.” She mumbles. “I’m gonna...fall asleep” she yawns again, leaning into him. She feels a puff of warm air against her neck as Dazai chuckles, amused. 

“Go ahead.” He replies, pulling back slightly. “you must be tired.” He moves his chair, so she can fully leans on him. He rests her head on his shoulder after pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“We can go home after you wake up.” He says quietly, and all it takes is a hum of agreement and a nod, before she’s drifted off to sleep against him.

Her steady breaths and the rise and fall of her chest is a stark contrast to her state yesterday. He lets her sleep, the reassurance that she’s there and okay making him feel better.

everyone glances their way, but nobody disturbs them. 

-

(25/11/2021)

[castiels-majestic-wings]

Clueless

Paring: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1216

Warnings: French kissing??

Posted: 30/01/2021

Based on this Ask

It had been months, you had dropped every hint you could to show you had liked him. You had used every ounce of your patience. He was blind to your flirting. So you did what anyone else would. Make him jealous. You thought of ways to do it, there was a party coming up. But that was too obvious. So you thought you would use your best friend instead. Walking to his door, you gave it a knock before hearing him on the other side.

"Come in" It was faint but you had heard it. Opening the door you smiled and made your way to sit on his bed. Bucky was at his desk writing a report for his latest mission.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" He placed his pen down, crossing his arms, giving you his full attention.

"I need a favour" His face dropped in confusion.

"Whats up doll?"

"I need you to flirt with me" He cocked his brow in your direction, puzzled by your request.

"I’m sorry can you run that by me again" He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees.

"I mean when Loki is around." You knew he didn't like Loki, but he had heard you gush about him for months. He knew you weren't changing your mind. But he stayed silent, obviously opposed to the idea.

"Please Buck, if you do this I'll stop talking about him around you" This intruigued him, he never liked the so called God of Mischief. But being his best friend meant he would listen to whatever you had to sasy, whether he liked it or not. He pondered for a moment and knew he needed to get something out of this too.

“I’ll do it on one condition”

“Name your price, Barnes”

“Give me your friends number.” The cheeky smirk on his face showed his enjoyment. You had avoided giving him her number since she came to visit you, he had flirted with Meghan but you had intervened. You didnt exactly want two of your best friends dating, but you needed this favour, so you would risk it.

“Fine, but only if the flirting is succesful.” You crossed your arms to stand your ground on this one. Bucky wasnt getting Meghans number if you got nothing out of it.

“Loki is clueless, do you really think me flirting will finally get him to grow a pair.”

“I’m hope it does. But if it doesnt, I’m just gonna tell him straight up.”

“Getting bold are we?” He held a playful look on his face, teasing your determination.

“Shut it before I steal your arm and shove it up your ass”

~~~

Bucky had kept his end of the deal. Whenever you two were together, and he knew Loki was nearby. He would flirt with subtle touches, petnames, wrapping his arms around you. He did everything you had asked him too. Loki had walked out of the room multiple times, discomforted by the way you two were acting around each other. You knew it was working, but it pained you to see how hurt he was by your actions. So you decided to speak to him. You had found him in the library, which wasnt really surprising. He spent most of his time there when he wanted a quiet space. He was sat in the corner by the window, reading silently. You knew reading calmed him, you didnt want to interrupt him, but you had to speak to him. Slowly, you made your way to him, grabbing a book from the shelves in the process. You sat across from him, keeping silent, trying to find a way to start up a conversation. But Loki had beat you to it.

“You and Barnes seem closer now.” He kept his gaze on the book he held, turning a page as he spoke.

“I mean yeah, he’s my best friend Loki-”

“No I mean, are you- nevermind” His curiousness of your relationship gave you high hopes.

“We arent dating if thats what you’re asking”

“I wasn’t-”

“You really are stupid for a God”

“Excuse me?” He finally met your gaze, placing his book down.

“You really are dumb you know-” He got angry at you, for questioning the knowledge he thought you enjoyed. You always listened to his stories, but maybe he was wrong.

“I have extensive knowlage you couldn’t even dream of. I have had millenia to collect the knowledge I possess I-” He stopped, hearing the giggle escaping your throat.

“I never said that you weren’t smart and knowledgable. I just meant that you are so clueless” You took his silence as permission to continue.

“You really havent caught on to anything I've been trying to tell you, albeit silently. But most people would catch on by now.” He slammed his hands on the table, standing abruptly.

“Well I’m no Midgardian, I dont understand any silent conversations you said you had with me-” Raising your voice you finally confessed.

"Why are you so blind? Don't you know that I love you." Loki stayed silent, his face contorted into one filled with confusion, hope and fear. Noticing this, you stood up and walked around the table to stand in front of him.

“You dont have to return my feelings, I know how difficult life was for you in Asgard. I dont expect anything. But that whole thing with Bucky was to make you jealous. I noticed that it worked though” Loki scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I wasnt jealous” His reaction made you laugh before you placed a hand on his chest.

“Well, since it didnt work. I guess I have to find someone else~” As the teasing tone left your lips, he suddenly gained more confidence than he previously had. He backed you up against the shelves that were conveniently placed behind you. The force he used caused several books to fall to the floor. The mischievous smirk returned to his face.

“Well, since you went through the trouble, it would be rude of me not to accept your confession” Not letting him win you moved your body closer making sure your noses touched. He took that as consent as he placed his lips on yours, it started slow, and sweet. But in your confident state you deepened the kiss, letting your tongues intertwine, tasting every bit of his as you could. His hands moved to your waist as yours hooked around his neck, pulling him even closer. It felt like hours before you finally parted for oxygen. You kept hold of him, keeping his body close for a few seconds before you heard Bucky in the doorway.

“Told you! Sam you owe me 10 bucks!” Sam grabbed his wallet handing the note to his cyborg friend reluctantly.

“And you missy owe me a phone number” Rolling your eyes you separated from Loki, walking towards the exit. Taking a piece of paper out of your pocket you slapped it against Bucky’s chest letting him grab it before dropping your hands.

“You hurt her I swear to god I will do worse things than Hydra” You looked back to Loki gesturing him to follow.

“You coming?” Loki elegantly followed you to your room so you could finish what you had started.

[casey-complains]

what are your opinions on the roleslaying with roman series? i thought that it was a Sasi spinoff, but it's apparently not? I've heard some people say that it's worth watching regardless, but i've also heard others say the opposite. I just want to know if its worth my time

i was excited at first, being both a massive sasi fan at the time and a massive dnd nerd. i watched the first couple episodes but i soon realised i only like playing dnd, not so much watching others play it

looking back now, it kinda feels like thomas wanted to make a dnd series but didnt want people to be disinterested, so he slapped roman on top of it. maybe thats cynical thinking, but with thomas' pattern of behaviour recently,, i wouldn't be surprised

as for the actual plot of rswr,, i dunno man, i cant give thoughts on that. i barely remember the little i watched, but i do remember liking it at least

[exhaustedarts]

Spreading Like Poison Ch.2

Ch. 1  Ch. 3  Ch. 4

Virgil and Janus have been dating for over a year now, and the fans were demanding a Q&A after it finally was announced. 

Janus had gotten a spot near the beanbag chair, which was opposite of Virgil. There was one question for the ‘Anxceit ship,’ as the fanders called it. It was directed at Virgil.

Thomas asked, “Is Deceit a shitty boyfriend to have?” He looked up at Virgil, surprised.

Janus had stood there in shock, his mouth gaping open. The others were put off by it too, but Virgil didn’t skip a beat. 

“I mean, I wouldnt say shitty, but he isn't a great one, either… He lies duh, he'siterally the personification of deception, but he also doesn't listen to me.  I make a point, he doesnt like it. I don't really get why he always contradicts me, though. Its kind of.. Well, illogical. And I know logic isn’t his forte, so..”

Janus sputtered. “Wh- b- I-”

Patton frowned. “You do do that. I mean the contradiction. Well, I assume also the lying. Maybe you should try to agree with each other more! Agreement is the key to a healthy relationship.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, his hand sliding to his katana. “What do you lie about, Janus?”

Janus felt his sasy, sarcastic video persona crumble. “I- I try not to,” He said, looking around the room nervously. “I’ve been trying not to mess up, honest!”

Virgil shrugged. “It doesn’t really bother me.”

Logan had adjusted his glasses in that, ‘I’m about to spout a few facts,’ way. “It seemed to me that it did seem to bother you, at least a little. In fact, according to recent psychologists, lying in a relationship destroys self esteem, and it develops trust issues between people. As humans, we need to be able to trust someone, and usually someone who is deceptive is someone we don’t need to trust. Perhaps Janus is not the best partner.”

Janus felt absolutely sick. Thomas’s Logic had proved that he was a bad boyfriend. “I- I- I-” He couldn’t force a proper sentence out. After a couple failed attempts, fully aware of the others watching him, he forced out some kind of sentence. “I don’t want to be, I don’t mean to,” He hiccuped. “I’m- I’m so sorry,” he said, and with a choked off sob, he sunk out before he could hear a reply. 

The room was silent for a moment. 

“He seemed genuinely upset,” Thomas said, shocked. “That wasn’t his lying tone, I think that he really didn’t know he was hurting Virgil like that.”

"The poor kiddo.." Patton said. "I'm gonna go check on him." 

"He actually kinda likes to deal with things alone.. learned that the hard way." Virgil chuckled. 

"The hard way?" 

"Yeah, he hisses at me then ignores me. It's fine though."

Patton made a concerned nose at the back of his throat. "Kiddo, it sounds like a bad relationship. Maybe you guys should break up?"

Virgil shrugged. "Maybe." 

Janus sighed heavily. He was looking back at the footage in the present, and he honestly couldn't care less at this point. Virgil had made it evident that he'd fucked up everything. But he loved Virgil! He didnt want to break up with him, and he hadn't brought it up.

At this point, he was just feeling depressed.  He didnt really want to do anything anymore unless it was sitting on the couch taking up as little room as possible. 

After he had heard Virgil say how he lies and how it made a bad relationship, to ensure he didnt lie, he talked as little as possible. 

He had even given up his self care days. Those were the days where he sat in his room in a Scooby Doo onesie, binged all of the What's New Scooby Doo's, and ate an entire pot of Mac n' cheese. Logan highly protested those days, since they were bad for his health, so he just quit them to avoid discourse. 

Earlier in the week, he had taken his box of 'special' memories and given them back. Logans old tie, Roman's old sash, and one of Patton's stuffed animals. He remembered presenting them to the sides with a look of shame on his face. 

The hardest to return was Virgil's old hoodie. He had been nervous about it for an hour before he had finally worked up the courage. He had said, “I.. I kept this after you changed your style. I know it was weird, but you hated me and.. I didnt know what to do.”

Virgil was silent for a full minute before answering. “Creep,” he said, and hung the hoodie in his closet.

So here Janus was now, laying on his bed and watching the latest Sides episode for the eighth time in a row.

He felt a tug on his navel and he flinched. Someone was lying. 

He sighed again, putting his phone away. He needed to get some food, he knew that. But he just couldn’t bring himself to care. So he just laid there, staring at the ceiling. 

Someone knocked on the door and Janus groaned. “Come on in,” He said, rolling over.

Virgil opened the door. “Yo, snakeface. Haven’t seen you in a while, so get your ass downstairs before I drag you down.”

“I don't really want to..” Janus’s bed was soft, and he was comfortable and warm. 

“I know that we dont need to eat or do anything, but stop being lazy. Its really not the good kind of selfish.” Virgil said pointedly, sitting down on Janus’s bed. 

Janus sighed. “But-”

“Just come down before everyone is more stressed out. Remus had a whole cake for breakfast, now hes chasing down the others going, ‘IMMA FUCK YOU’ and you know how to deal with it. Also you should eat something otherwise Patton’ll die from the stress.”

Janus twisted the sheets. “Okay. Um, who let him have a whole cake?”

“He got up and made one at 3 in the morning. It actually looked edible. Then he just started ripping out chunks of it and eating it. Theres frosting everywhere.”

Janus chuckled. Virgil was just sitting there with him for once, and he felt content to just stay like this, with Virgil and his snake plushes. But he had to go downstairs. 

“Hey Virgil?” He said, sitting up. “Do you hate me?” He lifted his eyes to Virgils.

“Why do you ask?” 

“Well, I was rewatching the QnA thing, and- and the one question about if I’m a shitty boyfriend.. And I was just wondering if you.. if you hate me.” Janus stared into his lap. 

Virgil scooched closer, putting his arm around Janus’s shoulders. “Is it because I dont hug you enough? I can be more affectionate!”

Janus’s skin was lit on fire and he smiled softly. “Yeah… this is nice..” 

Virgil gave him a light squeeze and stood up. “We can cuddle later. Right now, lets go downstairs.”

Janus groaned and pushed himself off the bed. “Remind me again, why do I have to go?"

"You know how to calm Remus down. Now come onnnn," He tugged on Janus arm like a child, smiling.

Janus laughed. "Okay, okay!" He grabbed his hat and allowed Virgil to drag him out.

[keepingupwithfundies]

Bringing Up Bates Season 7  Episode 25: Lions, and Tigers, and Bates, Oh My!

This episode features a visit to Michael and a seesaw project back home! 

-T 

The little girls have gone to Michael and Brandon's for a girl’s trip. Michael has spruced off the house to show them her “happily ever after” included freshly painted cabinets which Brandon says took longer than expected. The girls drop off their stuff and then go pick Brandon off to go to the zoo. The little girls and Michael are super hyped to go to the zoo.  Michael says they’ve been members of the zoo since their marriage. They pick up Brandon, Michael and Brandon kiss, Callie says “ew” and they head to the zoo. There is an animal ambassador program there where you can get up close with the animals. First, they get to meet a porcupine; the girls are surprised how large he is.  Next they meet a Serval, Cyan, who is a type of medium sized African Wild Cat. The girls are a little nervous around him and the handler reassures them. Callie says the fact that he likes to eat mice and rats makes her want to throw up. Next, they meet Elsie, the two toed sloth. Michael and Brandon are fascinated by the sloth, and they get to feed her grapes.  Finally, they meet an anteater. It has a very long tong and everyone is fascinated by the long tongue. They get to feed her pear babyfood and some gets flung onto Callie’s head. They wipe it off and the family thanks the handlers and then they get to go see the rest of the zoo. Brandon has to go back to work and the girls get to have a girls day at the zoo. They walk through and compare their arms to monkey’s arms, they see monkeys, a wolf, a polar bear, buffalo and then they stop for a selfie for Michael’s scrapbook.

Tori and Bobby arrive at the church to clean it before services. In three months, they are moving to Nashville so Bobby can be a youth pastor and to work in full time ministry. Tori says it will be weird to be there without any family but Bobby says that church is really family oriented and exciting. Bobby says very soon she will graduate and  they will be moving.

Michael is having a sewing lesson for the girls because it is something she loves to sew and she started around Callie’s age. She gets her machine out, and says they can make a blanket for Alyssa’s baby and a skirt for each of the girls. Callie tries threading the machine and then they pin the blankets. Nathan says he is glad the little girls are learning to sew so they can do his mending and alterations and they don’t have to wait for Michael to arrive.  The girls take turns sewing with the machine and they take to it very quickly. Addee says it was hard at first but it was fun when you got the hang of it. Callie is amazed that they make the blanket themselves. Michael says it means a lot to get to do it with them, big sister, little sister.

Gil says for school today they’re building a seesaw because everyone is out of town and he is in charge.  They practice measuring, and they actually wear eye protection and ear plugs while Gil uses the saw. They start really into it but their attention span doesn’t last that long.

They finish the seesaw and Kelly arrives back home and Kelly tries to lay ground rules but Gil still kind of flips Jeb off it anyways. Zach says the Bates family is the reason for those little tags at the store with “unintended use” warnings. Zach sasy the seesaw is more like a human catapult. Gil says the project went better than expected and they are glad they got to build something.

In La Grange, IL, Michael, Brandon and the little girls go to a paint your pottery place. Last time they went it was before they were engaged so they are glad to be back. They pick what they want to paint. Addee picks a jewelry box, Ellie picks a horse figurine, Callie picks a coffee mug for Alyssa. Brandon paints a piggy bank and Michael also paints a mug.  They enjoy chatting while painting and having fun together. Brandon says he enjoyed watching their focus and Callie’s energy. They finish and head off. Michael says she loves to spend time with siblings and she had an absolute blast. Michael says they make her feel alive and young and she looks forward to the next time.

[transfemlogan]

As a SaSi fan with severe OCD I have. thoughts. on Thomas's handling of intrusive thoughts. DWIT was a really well-made episode that helped me come to terms with my own intrusive thoughts and I have zero qualms with it.

..But then he posted "The Sides Need a Nice Day". I actually enjoyed the Aside for what it was until the end. I know that Remus is meant to represent intrusive thoughts themselves, not necessarily the people who have them, but it still felt off to me that his whole section was about "letting him act on his intrusive thoughts".

I feel like he used to have a really decent understanding of intrusive thoughts, but now that it's become the trendy word to throw around he just forgot all of that. I am not surprised that he has been misusing the phrase on other social media platforms one bit.

THAT VIDEO. no yea the "i told thomas 2 lean in2 his intrusive thoughts 2day" is so fucking wild 2 me ??? Esp when its statrd earlier in the video that if a side wants 2 do something then thomas will want 2 do something. The entirety of dwit was like "no thomas doesnt want 2 do these thoughts" & then immediayely they turn around like "YES HE DOES (???) LOL"

He learned the word, realised no1 else was taking it seriously, & rather than criticising it, or thinking abt it at All 4 2 seconds, thought he should do the same cuz everyone else was doing it

[movedtosalamoonder]

Edge of a Knife ~ An SI5 Fanfic [ch. 4]

Kepler asks one too many questions.

Wordcount: 1.5k

Genre: Slowborn, origin story, angst, pre canon

Warnings: Past self harm, discussion of self harm, abusive relationship

A/N: I’m baaaaack! I’m still fixing all my links so those are weird, but everything should be okay on AO3 if you need to read the previous chapters.

The next stretch of the trip passed in uneasy silence. Jacobi had slipped back into the driver’s seat, even though by all rights it should’ve been Kepler’s turn. Jacobi tries to pay attention to the road but he can’t resist flicking his eyes up to the rearview mirror to watch Maxwell and Kepler. They’re both unnaturally quiet. So quiet, in fact, that Jacobi reaches over to turn the radio on, which he almost never does when driving.

Immediately the air is assaulted with the unmistakable croon of Rascal Flats. Jacobi yelps and the car wavers into the left lane for a second and Maxwell screeches. A second later Jacobi recovers himself and turns the radio off. He huffs into the too humid air of the car. Maxwell glares at him through the mirror. “What was that for?”

“I was just trying to break the tension!”

“Well, you nearly broke the sound barrier,” Maxwell grumbles.

“You know that’s not how the sound barrier works,” says Jacobi, ignoring for a moment the awkwardness he’s lent to the situation by even acknowledging that there’s tension.

The car goes even quieter for a moment, and then Kepler chirps “Who wants to play a game?”

Jacobi and Maxwell groan in unison.

“What?” Kepler asks cheerily. “I did hear someone say that they needed the ice broken? Hmm?”

“Now look what you’ve done,” says Maxwell, dropping her head into her hands.

“You weren’t talking either!”

“Yeah, because I was almost asleep!”

“Ahem.”

Jacobi clamps his jaw shut.

“I believe,” says Kepler, “that we were about to play a game.”

More silence.

It’s weird, Jacobi thinks, all their different silences. The silence of Kepler exerting his power over them feels like stretching too far for something just out of reach, like a fist nearly closed around a rock at the bottom of a river. He can feel the muscles ache but he’s tentatively safe. It’s an oddly comfortable silence; he knows this silence.

The silence of the three of them alone together not talking makes his skin crawl.

“Sir,” starts Jacobi, “what...what kind of...game…”

“Glad you asked, Mr. Jacobi!” Kepler says, all cheeriness returning. “We’re going to play-”

“Questions only?” Maxwell asks in a pancake flat tone.

“Are we?” says Kepler, and smirks. Jacobi fights to keep his attention on the road and not in the rearview mirror.

“Sir, do we really have to do this?”

“Would you rather listen to ‘What Hurts the Most’ for the hundredth time?”

“Honestly?” Maxwell mutters.

“Doctor Maxwell, may I request that you at least attempt to sound cheerful?”

“You may, sir, but will it work?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Maxwell could you possibly be making this worse?” Jacobi sighs from the front seat.

“Now, now, Jacobi, must I ask the same of you?”

“I don’t know, must you?

Questions like that are almost cheating, but Jacobi doesn’t care. He’s just glad that Kepler’s back on top of his game. Or well enough to pretend he is.

Kepler not being in control scares him worse than he’s likely to admit to anyone, even Alana.

“Mr. Jacobi, what have we said about rephrasing the last question?”

Jacobi sighs to disguise his relief at the sternness in Kepler’s tone. “Not to do it?”

“How about none of us speak in questions at all?” Maxwell says, digging an elbow into Kepler’s side. Kepler doesn’t curse at her or say any other non question, which makes Maxwell slump defeatedly against the side of the car. The only way to beat Kepler is to play dirty, and even then it’s near impossible.

“You know what’s interesting, Doctor, is that you have stated repeatedly that you don’t wish to continue the game and yet, you’re still playing?”

Maxwell growls. Whether her competitiveness or her pettiness will win out is always an interesting battle to watch.

“Care to explain?” Kepler asks, very slowly.

For a moment no one says anything, and then Maxwell says, “No, sir, I would not care to explain.”

“Why don’t you ever give up on this game, sir?” Jacobi asks wearily.

“Why would I give up if I always win?”

“That’s not what I- ah, shit.”

Kepler hums in satisfaction. “Care for a rematch? Maxwell? Jacobi?”

“Sir, why are you still speaking in questions?” mutters Maxwell.

“Is that a rematch I hear? Jacobi?” Kepler asks brightly.

“No...no thank you, sir.”

“Okay, Maxwell: why are you covering your scars?”

Jacobi nearly screeches to a halt in the middle of the highway. Luckily he has the presence of mind to wrench them onto the shoulder, narrowly missing a car that zipped by in the far right lane.

“You WHAT?” he asks.

“Mr. Jacobi-”

“No, don’t Mr. Jacobi me, I-”

“Jacobi!” says Maxwell. He whips around to look at them both. “Just...leave it. It’s fine.”

“It is most definitely not fine, by any definition of the word!” Jacobi growls.

Kepler has a steely look in his eye. Not malicious or embarrassed or angry, just...solid. Jacobi can’t see anything in him.

“Mr. Jacobi,” he says softly. “Would you step out of the car for a moment?”

“Absolutely not!” says Jacobi, louder than he meant to. Maxwell rubs a hand over her forehead. She’s biting her lip- one of the biggest tells that she’s concentrating hard. Jacobi feels the support beams slide from Kepler’s shoulders to Maxwell’s, and then back again. He presses both hands to the side of his head and resists screaming. No, no no no NO, no one does that to her, no one-

Jacobi takes a breath and meets Kepler’s eyes.

“I’d prefer we got of the highway before talking...sir.”

“Of course,” sasy Kepler in the same soft, talking-to-a-scared-animal kind of tone.

This next silence is the loudest that Jacobi has ever experienced. He can barely drive, he’s seeing so much red, and his hands shake as he flicks his turn signal on to pull off the highway. After a few indecisive passes around gas stations and fast food restaurants Jacobi finally finds a small park, tucked in between the fork of two roads. It hardly feels like a park with all the trash littering the mulch, the tired saplings haphazardly scattered around a rusted playground. It looks how Jacobi feels.

He parks the car and gets out, slamming the door shut behind him. Maxwell gets out too, and Kepler- on opposite sides. For a moment all three just stand next to the car not looking at each other, and when Jacobi breathes the air tastes electric and dangerous.

Then Kepler sits on the hood of the car and pats either side of the warm metal, then looks up expectantly. Jacobi sits down on his left, wary and tingling with unwanted excitement at being this close, as if they hadn’t been like this a thousand times before. Maxwell scoots onto the hood on Kepler’s right, and the silence continues.

Then Kepler speaks. “Maxwell, you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

It’s a bold faced lie. Kepler would do anything to gain the upper hand. Jacobi knows this, deep down in his gut. All Kepler wants is a comfortable position of power. If it’s convenient for him to keep Maxwell on his side rather than his fearful and hurt subordinate, he won’t hurt her. If not��

“Why would you tell her that,” he says quietly, staring at the beginnings of a hole in the knee of his pants.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Jacobi?” Kepler asks, equally quiet. Jacobi hates it. The tight menace of Kepler’s voice is tracing a nervous shiver down his spine. He picks at the threads covering his knee.

“I said. I said why would you tell her that, when it’s obviously not true?”

There’s a moment stiff with tension, and then Maxwell blurts out, “Jacobi, drop it. I don’t care. I- it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters! I know it matters to you, and it matters to me! I-”

“MR. JACOBI. Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

Jacobi looks up quickly, half anticipating a punch, and directly into Kepler’s burning blue eyes. “Yes. Yes I am.”

For a second Jacobi really does think Kepler might punch him, and then a little of the fire fades from his eyes.

“Kepler-” starts Maxwell, but Kepler holds out a hand. “No, Maxwell. I want to see this through to the end.”

“But I-”

“Maxwell.” There’s a singsong lilt to his voice, and it immediately silences her.

“Jacobi. Why do you think I’m lying to Maxwell?” His tone is too gentle, too concerned. Jacobi wants to scream.

“Because you always do this! You always- you- you make people think you care just the slightest and then you make them think you hate them and you keep building them up just so you can knock them down and I’m not gonna let you do that to Maxwell! Not her! She’s- there’s-”

“Daniel. Is this about Alana, or yourself?”

The blood freezes in his veins. When the first names come out, it’s serious. He glances at Maxwell across Kepler, puzzled. Maxwell looks vaguely mad or frustrated or- something to do with concentration.

“What- what do you mean, sir?”

“I mean,” says Kepler, “are you talking about Alana’s scars, or your own?”

“Of course I’m not talking about- I- I don’t have scars?” Not scars from that, anyway.

“Yes you do, Daniel,” says Maxwell, and Jacobi is equally surprised and horrified to hear the hitch in her voice. “There’s more than one kind of scar.”

[salamoonder]

Edge of a Knife | [ch. 4]

Kepler asks one too many questions.

Wordcount: 1.5k

Genre: Slowborn, origin story, angst, pre canon

Warnings: Past self harm, discussion of self harm, abusive relationship

A/N: I’m baaaaack! I’m still fixing all my links so those are weird, but everything should be okay on AO3 if you need to read the previous chapters.

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three || Masterpost || || Read it on AO3 ||

The next stretch of the trip passed in uneasy silence. Jacobi had slipped back into the driver’s seat, even though by all rights it should’ve been Kepler’s turn. Jacobi tries to pay attention to the road but he can’t resist flicking his eyes up to the rearview mirror to watch Maxwell and Kepler. They’re both unnaturally quiet. So quiet, in fact, that Jacobi reaches over to turn the radio on, which he almost never does when driving.

Immediately the air is assaulted with the unmistakable croon of Rascal Flats. Jacobi yelps and the car wavers into the left lane for a second and Maxwell screeches. A second later Jacobi recovers himself and turns the radio off. He huffs into the too humid air of the car. Maxwell glares at him through the mirror. “What was that for?”

“I was just trying to break the tension!”

“Well, you nearly broke the sound barrier,” Maxwell grumbles.

“You know that’s not how the sound barrier works,” says Jacobi, ignoring for a moment the awkwardness he’s lent to the situation by even acknowledging that there’s tension.

The car goes even quieter for a moment, and then Kepler chirps “Who wants to play a game?”

Jacobi and Maxwell groan in unison.

“What?” Kepler asks cheerily. “I did hear someone say that they needed the ice broken? Hmm?”

“Now look what you’ve done,” says Maxwell, dropping her head into her hands.

“You weren’t talking either!”

“Yeah, because I was almost asleep!”

“Ahem.”

Jacobi clamps his jaw shut.

“I believe,” says Kepler, “that we were about to play a game.”

More silence.

It’s weird, Jacobi thinks, all their different silences. The silence of Kepler exerting his power over them feels like stretching too far for something just out of reach, like a fist nearly closed around a rock at the bottom of a river. He can feel the muscles ache but he’s tentatively safe. It’s an oddly comfortable silence; he knows this silence.

The silence of the three of them alone together not talking makes his skin crawl.

“Sir,” starts Jacobi, “what…what kind of…game…”

“Glad you asked, Mr. Jacobi!” Kepler says, all cheeriness returning. “We’re going to play-”

“Questions only?” Maxwell asks in a pancake flat tone.

“Are we?” says Kepler, and smirks. Jacobi fights to keep his attention on the road and not in the rearview mirror.

“Sir, do we really have to do this?”

“Would you rather listen to ‘What Hurts the Most’ for the hundredth time?”

“Honestly?” Maxwell mutters.

“Doctor Maxwell, may I request that you at least attempt to sound cheerful?”

“You may, sir, but will it work?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Maxwell could you possibly be making this worse?” Jacobi sighs from the front seat.

“Now, now, Jacobi, must I ask the same of you?”

“I don’t know, must you?

Questions like that are almost cheating, but Jacobi doesn’t care. He’s just glad that Kepler’s back on top of his game. Or well enough to pretend he is.

Kepler not being in control scares him worse than he’s likely to admit to anyone, even Alana.

“Mr. Jacobi, what have we said about rephrasing the last question?”

Jacobi sighs to disguise his relief at the sternness in Kepler’s tone. “Not to do it?”

“How about none of us speak in questions at all?” Maxwell says, digging an elbow into Kepler’s side. Kepler doesn’t curse at her or say any other non question, which makes Maxwell slump defeatedly against the side of the car. The only way to beat Kepler is to play dirty, and even then it’s near impossible.

“You know what’s interesting, Doctor, is that you have stated repeatedly that you don’t wish to continue the game and yet, you’re still playing?”

Maxwell growls. Whether her competitiveness or her pettiness will win out is always an interesting battle to watch.

“Care to explain?” Kepler asks, very slowly.

For a moment no one says anything, and then Maxwell says, “No, sir, I would not care to explain.”

“Why don’t you ever give up on this game, sir?” Jacobi asks wearily.

“Why would I give up if I always win?”

“That’s not what I- ah, shit.”

Kepler hums in satisfaction. “Care for a rematch? Maxwell? Jacobi?”

“Sir, why are you still speaking in questions?” mutters Maxwell.

“Is that a rematch I hear? Jacobi?” Kepler asks brightly.

“No…no thank you, sir.”

“Okay, Maxwell: why are you covering your scars?”

Jacobi nearly screeches to a halt in the middle of the highway. Luckily he has the presence of mind to wrench them onto the shoulder, narrowly missing a car that zipped by in the far right lane.

“You WHAT?” he asks.

“Mr. Jacobi-”

“No, don’t Mr. Jacobi me, I-”

“Jacobi!” says Maxwell. He whips around to look at them both. “Just…leave it. It’s fine.”

“It is most definitely not fine, by any definition of the word!” Jacobi growls.

Kepler has a steely look in his eye. Not malicious or embarrassed or angry, just…solid. Jacobi can’t see anything in him.

“Mr. Jacobi,” he says softly. “Would you step out of the car for a moment?”

“Absolutely not!” says Jacobi, louder than he meant to. Maxwell rubs a hand over her forehead. She’s biting her lip- one of the biggest tells that she’s concentrating hard. Jacobi feels the support beams slide from Kepler’s shoulders to Maxwell’s, and then back again. He presses both hands to the side of his head and resists screaming. No, no no no NO, no one does that to her, no one-

Jacobi takes a breath and meets Kepler’s eyes.

“I’d prefer we got of the highway before talking…sir.”

“Of course,” sasy Kepler in the same soft, talking-to-a-scared-animal kind of tone.

This next silence is the loudest that Jacobi has ever experienced. He can barely drive, he’s seeing so much red, and his hands shake as he flicks his turn signal on to pull off the highway. After a few indecisive passes around gas stations and fast food restaurants Jacobi finally finds a small park, tucked in between the fork of two roads. It hardly feels like a park with all the trash littering the mulch, the tired saplings haphazardly scattered around a rusted playground. It looks how Jacobi feels.

He parks the car and gets out, slamming the door shut behind him. Maxwell gets out too, and Kepler- on opposite sides. For a moment all three just stand next to the car not looking at each other, and when Jacobi breathes the air tastes electric and dangerous.

Then Kepler sits on the hood of the car and pats either side of the warm metal, then looks up expectantly. Jacobi sits down on his left, wary and tingling with unwanted excitement at being this close, as if they hadn’t been like this a thousand times before. Maxwell scoots onto the hood on Kepler’s right, and the silence continues.

Then Kepler speaks. “Maxwell, you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

It’s a bold faced lie. Kepler would do anything to gain the upper hand. Jacobi knows this, deep down in his gut. All Kepler wants is a comfortable position of power. If it’s convenient for him to keep Maxwell on his side rather than his fearful and hurt subordinate, he won’t hurt her. If not…

“Why would you tell her that,” he says quietly, staring at the beginnings of a hole in the knee of his pants.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Jacobi?” Kepler asks, equally quiet. Jacobi hates it. The tight menace of Kepler’s voice is tracing a nervous shiver down his spine. He picks at the threads covering his knee.

“I said. I said why would you tell her that, when it’s obviously not true?”

There’s a moment stiff with tension, and then Maxwell blurts out, “Jacobi, drop it. I don’t care. I- it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters! I know it matters to you, and it matters to me! I-”

“MR. JACOBI. Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

Jacobi looks up quickly, half anticipating a punch, and directly into Kepler’s burning blue eyes. “Yes. Yes I am.”

For a second Jacobi really does think Kepler might punch him, and then a little of the fire fades from his eyes.

“Kepler-” starts Maxwell, but Kepler holds out a hand. “No, Maxwell. I want to see this through to the end.”

“But I-”

“Maxwell.” There’s a singsong lilt to his voice, and it immediately silences her.

“Jacobi. Why do you think I’m lying to Maxwell?” His tone is too gentle, too concerned. Jacobi wants to scream.

“Because you always do this! You always- you- you make people think you care just the slightest and then you make them think you hate them and you keep building them up just so you can knock them down and I’m not gonna let you do that to Maxwell! Not her! She’s- there’s-”

“Daniel. Is this about Alana, or yourself?”

The blood freezes in his veins. When the first names come out, it’s serious. He glances at Maxwell across Kepler, puzzled. Maxwell looks vaguely mad or frustrated or- something to do with concentration.

“What- what do you mean, sir?”

“I mean,” says Kepler, “are you talking about Alana’s scars, or your own?”

“Of course I’m not talking about- I- I don’t have scars?” Not scars from that, anyway.

“Yes you do, Daniel,” says Maxwell, and Jacobi is equally surprised and horrified to hear the hitch in her voice. “There’s more than one kind of scar.”

[soysaucevictim]

Tenuously spoiler-y stuff about the green guy, under the cut.

Remus makes me think of an ultimately more impotent Kefka... and the Joker. (Because, y’know Thomas isn’t a complete monster and is very NOEP at all this.)

Nihilistic sowers of chaos, them lot. And it’s really damn entertaining (not an endorsement, though).

Okay. ACTUALLY - Remus is Ultros. :,D

(This was a thinly veiled excuse to connect things to my favorite Final Fantasy villain/game.)