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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

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Quinlan and the Interdimensional Ingenues (except not really)

Context: SW Suddenly Omegaverse AU (Original Post), Interior Design (Nesting Divots), Chrono Rating: T+ Relationships: Anakin & Obi-Wan, Quinlan/Obi-Wan

This is like 90% cuddles and scenting that’s a few steps to the side of a/b/o standard. There is a lot of non-sexual licking. It’s a little odd, but I’m assuming that’s what you’re here for. It’s also over 5k words, so, you know. There’s that.

Note: “Ternary” is to the number three as “binary” is to the number two. Binary gender/sex refers to IRL male/female distinctions, and ternary refers to alpha/beta/omega. Gender and sex are much more complicated than is touched on in this particular fic, and trans identities exist within both the binary system and the ternary system. (More notes at end.)

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“Sorry to tell you this,” Quinlan says, sliding into the room as quickly as he can, “but we can smell omega distress from several rooms down the hall. What the hell is going on?”

“We’ve having a lot of feelings,” Kenobi says drily. He’s on the couch, looking damnably normal, and Skywalker’s got his face shoved into his master’s neck. Kenobi’s fingers card through the curls, and it’s... well, it would be easy to tell which of them was having said feelings even if Quinlan hadn’t already been able to tell them apart in scent.

“I’m distraught,” Skywalker moans, mushing himself somehow closer.

Kenobi’s eyes go to the ceiling, and he visibly prays to the Force for patience. “I know, Anakin.”

“You think I’m being dumb.”

“I think you’ve had a few months to prepare for this, but that your reaction is understandable nevertheless,” Kenobi says carefully. “Quinlan, would you like to take a seat?”

He hops the back of an armchair in a way that earns him a long-suffering, fond sigh. Quinlan grins encouragingly. “So, do I get to know what this is about?”

“I’m having trouble keeping it out of the Force, but at least I can do that,” Skywalker mutters. He does not lift his head. “I can’t control the scent stuff.”

“Yeah,” Quinlan says, because he’s not sure what else to say. “Do you want me to go get Tano? Might make you feel better.”

Skywalker just whines, high and pained, and tries to curl impossibly closer to Kenobi.

“Anakin,” Kenobi tries. “Anakin, do you want me to explain?”

“I want my--” Skywalker cuts himself off with a choking noise, and then keens. It’s a very omega noise, in the sense that his vocal cords can make it, and non-omegas have trouble mimicking it, and it makes Quinlan want to go over and do his best to fix things in whatever way he can.

(This, everyone is finding, is the truly awkward element to having Skywalker and Kenobi around. They don’t have any experience with controlling their ternary sex instincts, and it makes everyone else react poorly when they do, well, almost anything. They can’t be blamed, considering exactly how inconvenient this is for them, as well, but it’s not a great time for anyone.)

Quinlan tries to keep his own scent pleasant and calm, as soothing as he can make it through the blockers. He doesn’t think it works. “Your what?”

“His wife,” Kenobi says. “Because apparently that was the other way he broke the Code.”

“I looked her up,” Skywalker moans, dramatic as anyone. “She’s already mated and married, in this timeline. To that artist. She’s totally happy and she’s never met me and I’m never gonna be able to work with or around her because I won’t be able to act normal about it and I miss her.”

‘A lot of feelings‘ Kenobi mouths at Quinlan over Skywalker’s head.

“Well, at least it explains the position you’re in,” Quinlan tries to joke. The blank look he gets from Kenobi tells him clearly that the joke didn’t land. “Uh, scenting at the neck like that.”

“Inappropriate?” Kenobi hazards a guess. He doesn’t pull Skywalker away.

“Sort of,” Quinlan says. “You’re family, or as good as, so between that and the need for comfort, nobody’s really going to judge you for it, especially given your backgrounds, but that kind of prolonged neck-scenting for comfort is something kids outgrow in pre-adolescence. It’s only really used for either comfort for extreme emotions, like this, or, uh, between lovers. Post-coital, or during foreplay before, you know, mouths get involved.”

Kenobi grimaces. “Lovely. And what do you mean by ‘of our backgrounds’ in this case? That we have less control, or another factor?”

He doesn’t sound offended. Quinlan appreciates that. “You didn’t have ten years to get that comfort. It’s like... touch starvation, but for scenting. Anyone who knows what’s going on with you, even in the vague sense that doesn’t involve dimensional travel, is going to give you leeway on scenting because you didn’t have that, growing up.”

Kenobi’s grimace doesn’t go away until Skywalker’s breath hitches, hand curling in his master’s robes. “Anakin?”

“I don’t like feeling like this,” Skywalker mutters. “It sucks.”

“I know.”

“And we can’t delay the war much longer, and she was one of the only reasons I stayed even kinda sane through it.”

“I know, Anakin,” Kenobi sighs, running a hand through Skywalker’s hair and, awkwardly as anything, pressing a small kiss to the young man’s forehead. “You’ll have other ways to de-stress this time around. Maybe you’ll actually attend your meditative retreats.”

Skywalker huffs out a breath, in a laugh wet with what might be burgeoning tears. “Shut up.”

“I think you’ve known me far too long to think I’ll ever run out of words,” Kenobi says. He meets Quinlan’s eyes again, but before either of them can communicate about whether Quinlan should leave, Skywalker lurches to his feet, muttering something about a shower.

He’s gone before Kenobi can get more than two words out, and the man is left looking ruffled and confused by his former padawan’s sudden departure. He stays watching the door, and slowly wilts in a way that doesn’t speak well for his state of mind. The man sighs and drops his head into his hands, cradling it with his elbows on his knees, and whatever calm he’d had fades into pure stress, the air curdling with the smell of it.

Quinlan waits, unsure of how to handle this; Kenobi’s Quinlan Vos probably would have known how to deal with the change.

“What am I doing?” Kenobi breathes out, the words almost inaudible from behind his hands.

There are a few moments for Quinlan to consider the many complications and ramifications of getting involved, and then he decides to do so anyway. He stands up and steps around the caff table, and sits down next to Kenobi. He wraps an arm around the man’s shoulders, and brings him in close.

“You don’t have to do this,” Kenobi says, though he makes no move to pull away. “I know you don’t... this is just an obligation. The Council assigned you to gather information and keep an eye out for us in terms of the whole omega thing, since you already shared my heat, and... I know I’m not a friend to you. You barely know me, and the fact that you have to look out for me is something that truly grates. Such care shouldn’t...”

Quinlan waits for him to finish, but he doesn’t.

“I won’t say that they didn’t give me that assignment, because that would be a lie and you’d know it,” Quinlan says. “But I do want to be friends with you. We’re sort of there, already, even if that’s mostly you knowing my other self, and my psychometry, but I’ve seen what a friendship with you could be like, in what you let me see. We’ll never have that same dynamic, because I didn’t grow up with you, and the ternary sex adds an element that changes things, but I do want to be your friend.”

He hesitates, unsure if the rest will make things worse or better, but says it anyway. “As for taking care of you, looking out for you... I do feel a need to do that on an instinctual level, yes, but I can ignore it. It’s an instinct, but one that I, like everyone else that’s grown up as a human or near human in this galaxy, can work around. I am doing more than the minimum the Council requested, and it’s because I do actually like you as a person, and want to know you better.”

Kenobi’s head is resting on his shoulder by this point, tired and heavy, and Quinlan reaches up to brush his knuckles against the beard without looking. His blockers are still keeping his scent down, but the contact seems to make Kenobi relax more. His hands are mostly laced together, and falling into the dip between their legs.

“There’s a way I can help, but it’s, ah... not inherently sexual in nature, but generally only done by those whose relationship is already some degree of sexual,” Quinlan tells him. “To make you feel better, less stressed.”

“I’m assuming you’re not suggesting an orgasm,” Kenobi mutters, dry as anything. He laughs when Quinlan puts a hand on his knee.

“Not exactly feeling it,” Quinlan agrees. He squeezes Kenobi’s knee, and then says, “No, it’s mostly scenting in a way that’s usually only done by lovers; it’s more effective, but very intimate in a way many find uncomfortably sexual, because the amount of tongue involved is very reminiscent of foreplay.”

Kenobi laughs, a little harder, and nuzzles a little. He doesn’t seem aware of the fact that he’s doing it. “Alright, then.”

“I’d also suggest moving to one of the nests,” Quinlan says, and Kenobi immediately freezes. He gives it a moment, and then says, “I know you found it helpful after your heat, Kenobi. The nesting instinct is human here. It’s not shameful. There are people who don’t get anything out of it, but I’ve seen you nesting, and it’s good for you.”

Kenobi shudders and Quinlan thinks he might be fighting down a whine. “It’s a change, Quin. I mean, Quinlan. It’s... it’s just another thing out of many that’s different.”

“And one of the few you have control over?” Quinlan guesses. He tries to purr for support when Kenobi nods against his shoulder, and he thinks the deep rumble is soothing to Kenobi. “I get that.”

“Don’t stop,” Kenobi mutters, and Quinlan can guess he’s blushing about it.

“Into the nest,” Quinlan mutters. “It’ll help convince Skywalker to use it, and he really needs that kind of comfort.”

That’s the line of logic that actually works, and Quinlan isn’t the least bit surprised.

“Fine,” Kenobi sighs, and gets to his feet before Quinlan can offer to carry him or something similarly joking. The man walks to the communal nest at the edge of the room, and then looks down into the barely-used mess of blankets and pillows in the floor divot like he doesn’t even know how to get in.

Quinlan thinks there might be dust, even.

Fine. He can work with that. He’s taken this duo on as a project of his own free will, and he’s damn well going to follow through.

“Want to rearrange it?” he asks, in hopes that he can prompt Kenobi into figuring out what’s wrong.

“I don’t... know,” Kenobi says, frowning in a way that’s more worried and uncomfortable than angry. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Quinlan considers it, thinks of how the dust means nobody’s been here, that there’s not even a hint of scent, and then turns and grabs the throw pillows and thick, woven blanket from the couch.

“Wait,” Kenobi protests. “They don’t--”

“We can put them back later,” Quinlan assures him. He holds them out to Kenobi. “Trust me? I may not be an omega, but I do know enough of the theory.”

Kenobi takes the pillows and the blanket, stares down at them and then at the nest, and steps out of his slippers and into the nest. The layer already there is thin, and likely not doing much for anyone, but it’s the bare minimum and Quinlan can work with that.

He turns and scouts the room for spare fabrics, grabs all three of the outer robes from where they hang by the door, and the recently-used dishtowel that only barely carries Skywalker’s scent, and brings them to Kenobi.

“The robes aren’t clean!” Kenobi protests.

“I could grab something from your room instead,” Quinlan says. “Or you could just leave the hems on the outside. But you need more fabric that actually smells like someone.”

Quinlan wonders, idly, if Kenobi would have this kind of reaction to the suggestion without omega instincts at play, or if it’s just the instincts and he doesn’t realize, or maybe that he’s decided to let the instincts happen since Quinlan’s pushed him into nesting already anyway. The man had insisted in perfectly pressing his robes from the beginning, long before their bodies had had a chance to change, and Skywalker had found it normal, so it’s probably, at least a little, just the man’s personality. It probably doesn’t matter, overall, because all Quinlan has to do is sit at the edge of the nest until Kenobi--the person who actually lives here--is done arranging things.

Quinlan takes off another two layers and offers them, noting out loud that he can get them back later when Skywalker can fill in the gaps or something before too many protests can be voiced. Kenobi hesitantly takes them and tucks them in among his own additional layers. Quinlan’s seen enough communal nests to know that most of the placements are odd and not going to work out long-term, but that’s not the point right now. The point is getting Kenobi to recognize the his body, and more importantly, his mental health, rely at least somewhat on nesting now.

“Are you going to come in?” Kenobi asks, belatedly realizing Quinlan’s still outside the lip of the flooring divot.

“Not without permission,�� Quinlan says, and sees the realization flicker in.

Kenobi holds out a hand, silent, and Quinlan lets himself get tugged in among the half-stale, half-new nest. It’s not great, but that’ll come with practice. He tucks himself around Kenobi, and rubs at the man’s arms in an attempt to ease some of the tension that’s clinging to every line of his body.

“What now?” Kenobi asks, just a shade more quiet than Quinlan thinks is really required by the situation.

“A lot of the stress you’re feeling is a feedback loop from being covered in your own distress scent,” Quinlan says. “You can shower to handle that, which is what Skywalker is doing, or you can manually remove it.”

“I’d imagine a wet towel,” Kenobi says, a touch wry, “but given that you mentioned tongue earlier, I’m guessing you intend to lick it away?”

“It’s more effective,” Quinlan admits. “Not at removing the scent, necessarily, but it removes enough to help while also generating comfort and relaxation hormones from the close contact, and being scented by a trusted individual.”

“Makes sense,” Kenobi admits. “You, ah, use scent blockers usually, right? Can you, er, scent me?”

Quinlan can see just how much Kenobi dislikes using the words. He tries to keep it quick. “I use a cream blocker over my scent glands, namely at the neck and wrists, since the rest are covered in fabric. It’s... well, it can be wiped off, or also removed orally. Most manually-applied blockers are formulated to be safe for contact with the mouth or genitals. Only really gets to be a problem if there are rare allergies or with specific species. It doesn’t taste like anything, if that matters.”

Kenobi’s discomfort is almost palpable, but Quinlan lets him work through that. This isn’t really something he can make a choice for Kenobi about, and the discomfort is... well, it’s not really the kind of discomfort usually associated with ternary sex and associated behaviors. Everything’s just very new, and comes with changes to the body that Kenobi never agreed to.

“Right,” Kenobi says. “I want to... to at least try it, I think.”

He turns and blushes, eyes anywhere by Quinlan’s face. “I don’t know how much longer Anakin will be. I’d rather he not think we’re, er...”

“Then I’ll take care of that part fast,” Quinlan promises, and is rewarded by Kenobi offering a wrist.

It’s... not sexual. Quinlan knows he has a hard time explaining this to near-humans that don’t have the scent glands, that don’t have the ternary dynamics. He’s had a similarly hard time explaining it to Kenobi and Skywalker. It’s not sexual, just intimate, when he pulls Kenobi’s wrist to his face, closes his eyes, and breathes in the scent of a distressed, uncomfortable, bitter omega that he’s shared a heat with and knows as almost-friend. The smell, this close and this strong, triggers the production of pheromones of his own, and when he feels Kenobi tentatively start pressing kisses to Quinlan’s own wrist, he relaxes. He brushes his lips against Kenobi’s wrist, and then puts his open mouth to it, the slightest press of teeth and his tongue laving across the skin. He hears Kenobi’s gasp, an almost-yelp, and pulls away long enough to press a kiss the the veins under his lips, and to say, “Relax, Kenobi.”

He forces a purr out, low and rumbling, and feels it work on Kenobi just like it did earlier. There’s a tongue pulling, a little dry, to rub away the blocker on the inside of his wrist, and he turns his attention back to Kenobi’s. The scent is even stronger on his tongue, bitter and unhappy, and his body continues to produce calm and comfort as he pulls away the uglier feelings painted on Kenobi’s skin.

More pheromones leak under his mouth, but less bitter. Less intense. He does what he can, opens his eyes and turns and sees that Kenobi is unduly focused on his wrist, mouthing and not quite purring, but oddly fuzzy in the Force. His eyes are closed, but Quinlan’s pretty sure they’d be glazed if not.

“Kenobi?”

“Hm?”

“Guess you haven’t encountered this outside of a heat before,” Quinlan mutters. He shakes his arm a bit, and puts his other hand on Kenobi’s shoulder. “Kenobi, hey, look at me?”

Kenobi pulls away, blinking, and then makes a face. “That...”

“Didn’t like losing control?” Quinlan guesses. The answer is clear enough. “It’s a matter of practice, especially for you.”

“Why did I... it smelled and tasted like... like I was safe,” Kenobi mutters lowly, eyes on the nest instead of on Quinlan. “I’ve never associated any sense with safety other than the Force.”

“You trust me,” Quinlan says, as if that’s not a little terrifying in its own way. He already knew that Kenobi trusted him, but he thinks that this strong of a reaction might make him Kenobi’s most trusted person after Skywalker and maybe Tano. “And since you trust me, your body subconsciously takes cues from mine, when it comes to pheromones. I project comfort and safety, and your body takes it as... not fact, but affirmation.”

“So I won’t react to anyone like this,” Kenobi says, not quite begging for Quinlan to confirm, but close to it. “Just you, and... does that same logic apply to those who aren’t Alpha designation?”

“Yeah,” Quinlan says. “Not in the same way, but familiarity and trust does affect which pheromones affect you, and how strongly. Children are largely unresponsive to aggression pheromones from their parents, by default, since their minds process it as aggression in defense of them, rather than aggression at them.”

Kenobi purses his lips, but nods and looks at Quinlan’s other wrist. “Moving on?”

“If you’re okay with it,” Quinlan says, but he brings his cleaned wrist to Kenobi’s and rubs them together until his own comfort scent is covering up what’s left of the distress. “Take a smell at that and see how you feel.”

Kenobi eyes him warily--he’s pretty sure he hasn’t done anything to deserve that, but allows it because, well, Kenobi--and sniffs at his own wrist. His brow furrows in confusion, and he sniffs again.

“Good?” Quinlan hazards.

“I... yeah,” Kenobi says. He sounds as confused as he looks. “I like it. It’s... the safe thing, again, but mixing with me?”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” Quinlan assures him. “Other wrist?”

If he were actually the friend that Kenobi had grown up with, if he’d actually had a Kenobi to grow up with, he thinks he might have thrown in a few joking pet names by now.

But he’s not, and they didn’t, so he won’t.

He thinks he hears Skywalker finish up in the shower, but Kenobi pulls his mouth to the neck, and mutters that they have some time while Skywalker does something to his hair. Apparently, there are products needed for those curls.

The angle’s going to be a little uncomfortable if they try to get at each other’s scent glands simultaneously, so Quinlan suggests that Kenobi handle getting the blocker off first.

“Why?”

“More convenient,” Quinlan says, and then clasps Kenobi’s hands so their wrists rub together. He squeezes, just a little, a touch of reassurance, and smiles and tilts his head. “All yours, Kenobi.”

The man smiles, brittle, and almost giggles. Maybe Quinlan was doing something oddly similar to his counterpart from Kenobi’s dimension. Maybe it was an inside joke he didn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because Kenobi’s leaning in and mouthing along Quinlan’s neck and throat like a man possessed a half-second later.

Quinlan closes his eyes and threads a hand into Kenobi’s hair, focuses on warmth and comfort and protection, rather than anything aroused. Kenobi slows down, lapping at Quinlan’s neck and inhaling, and in the Force he radiates confusion.

“That’s it,” Quinlan mutters, and Kenobi makes a low chirruping noise that he immediately stifles with an annoyed huff. “Hey, no, those are normal. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I want control over my own body, Quin,” Kenobi mutters, and switches to the other side. He rubs his face against Quinlan’s neck, and it’s another point on the list of things Kenobi does that he might not realize are based in newer instincts. “I don’t like something being wrong with me, and not understanding what it is.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Quinlan mutters, using the hand in Kenobi’s hair to guide him into actually removing the scent blocker instead of donating a case of beard burn. “Even going as fast as you did just now wasn’t something wrong. Your instincts got a bit confused, that’s all. You’re fine.”

He purrs until Kenobi is done, and gets that chirruping noise again. Kenobi’s still annoyed about it, but Quinlan’s just happy he’s getting less uncomfortable about it.

“Okay, sit up and turn around,” Quinlan says, and Kenobi eyes him again. “Have I steered you wrong yet?”

“No.”

“So trust me,” Quinlan urges. “Just turn around.”

Kenobi does. Quinlan sits up and rearranges his legs so there’s one on either side of Kenobi, half-bent. He pulls the other man closer, blankets folding oddly beneath them, and wraps his arms around Kenobi’s waist.

He breathes for a moment, chin hooked over Kenobi’s shoulder, and asks, “Good?”

“Oddly so, yes,” Kenobi mutters. He might be blushing. “Er, should I... do anything?”

“Hands on mine, if you’d like,” Quinlan tells him. “We can lie back down and spoon after I clean up your left.”

The noise Kenobi makes is low, affronted in a way that speaks to his ongoing embarrassment. Quinlan ignores it, just gets to work taking away as much of Kenobi’s stress scent as he can, mouthing along the man’s neck and managing a purr that isn’t even forced. It rumbles out of him unprompted, his hindbrain piecing together the relaxing omega in his lap and the safety of the Temple and the pride he’s got in doing this right, the knowledge that Kenobi’s happier than he was an hour ago and it’s all Quinlan’s doing.

He rubs his face along Kenobi’s neck as he finishes up, scenting and being scented back, and is gratified when Kenobi starts purring too. The nuzzling is mostly soft, though Quinlan’s stubble is nothing to Kenobi’s beard; the hairs trap Quinlan’s scent where it’ll do the most good. He follows a hint of mischievous intent and tugs at Kenobi’s earlobe with his teeth, earning himself a little whine. He laughs, and licks the curve of Kenobi’s ear, immediately scenting further.

“Anakin’s going to be back soon,” Kenobi says, sounding almost sleep drunk.

Quinlan switches sides and guides them both down to lie, chest to front, in the nest. He works more slowly on the other side, keeps himself propped up on his elbow, forearm slipped neatly under Kenobi’s neck. The scent gland at Quinlan’s wrist rests under Kenobi’s nose, right where it’ll have the most effect. His other hand rubs up and down Kenobi’s side, and by the time Skywalker reenters the room, Quinlan’s done with licking the stress off and rubbing his scent into anything he thinks will help. He’s lying fully on his side instead of having his head propped up, and just doing his best to spread comfort through the room through Force and smell. He maybe nibbles at the back of Kenobi’s neck, here and there, because the man has lothcat response, and

“Guys?”

“Over here, Skywalker.”

The kid--not really a kid, but younger than Aayla, still, so he counts--rounds the couch, and sees them among the added cloaks and pillows and blanket. He stares. Kenobi starts to stiffen back up.

Quinlan increases his purring, and rubs his face against Kenobi’s neck, and glares up at Skywalker for good measure. Kenobi can’t see past Quinlan, probably, and squirms. Skywalker tilts his head, and then puts up a finger in a ‘one moment’ sort of gesture. He runs off.

“Anakin--”

“Kid’s fine,” Quinlan assures him, and Skywalker skids back into the room at unsafe speeds, arms full of what Quinlan’s pretty sure are his own duvet and pillow, and falls face-first into the nest. Kenobi jerks back into Quinlan, but Skywalker ignores this in favor of rearranging the nest into something approaching functional. He’s better at it than Kenobi.

Quinlan’s pretty sure Skywalker was more open to these things from the start. It tracks.

“Now Anakin, really,” Kenobi sputters, as Skywalker finishes layering things in the way he thinks is best. Skywalker beams at him, earlier melancholy forgotten for the moment, and flops down to drop his head somewhere near Kenobi’s chest.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Skywalker says. “This is good for you.”

Kenobi blushes, and Quinlan scrapes his teeth against the back of his neck again.

“Quinlan!” Kenobi yelps, jolting. “Not--we’re not alone!”

“Helps you calm down, though,” Quinlan says, pressing a few close-mouthed kisses at Kenobi’s hairline.

“Different cultural standards,” Skywalker adds, half-guessing but sure of himself nonetheless. He seems entirely too delighted to be here. “You know what? We should invite Ahsoka.”

“She’s not your padawan here,” Kenobi scolds.

“Yet,” Skywalker corrects. “As soon as I get all my psych evals cleared, the Council’s going to promise. She’s basically my padawan already.”

Kenobi sighs, aggrieved in a manner that feels more fond than actually upset, in the Force, and places a hand lightly on Skywalker’s.

Skywalker chirrups and wriggles closer, pressing his face to Kenobi’s tunic with a smile.

“I see someone’s feeling better,” Kenobi notes, and moves his hand up to play with Skywalker’s hair. “The shower helped?”

“Mm-hm,” Skywalker says. “’nd some of the stuff they made me learn in therapy.”

Kenobi hums low in his throat, an aimless vocalization, as he continues to comb his fingers through Skywalker’s hair.

Skywalker blinks, slow and bleary, with a soft and dopey smile, and Kenobi stops.

“What?”

“I like it when you play with my hair,” Skywalker says, almost too low to hear. His eyes close. “Feels nice. Cared for. Family.”

Kenobi freezes, breath hitching, and Quinlan shifts and lifts just enough to see the man is staring at his own hand in confusion and a slight bit of fear.

“Kenobi?”

“I didn’t even question it,” Kenobi says faintly. “I don’t... I haven’t done that since he was just a child, but I didn’t even question it. I stopped myself from commenting that he’s too old to come to his master for cuddles, because he’s not, in this dimension, and I’m getting used to that, but I started playing with his hair like it was normal and it’s not.”

Quinlan puts his mouth to Kenobi’s trapezius, just enough pressure that he’s not biting, just there, and purrs.

It’s several inches away from anything resembling a mating bite, but Kenobi tilts his head and whines anyway.

“Obi-Wan?” Skywalker prompts, brow furrowed. “It’s not... I mean, I’m not going to say it’s okay, since I know we’re both still upset about our bodies being changed without our permission or input or even a warning, but we’re getting used to it. We’re working with it. The hair thing is fine with me, I like it and would have before. And now that you know you’ll want to do, uh, that sort of thing--”

“Subset of grooming behaviors,” Quinlan tells them, pulling away from Kenobi’s neck with a final open-mouthed kiss. He sees the face Skywalker makes in response to the words, and feels Kenobi’s discomfort, so he elaborates. They’ve compared most of what they hear with tookas and lothwolves, so he thinks he knows what this is about. “We’re not exactly going to start licking each other clean--excluding scent comfort, that’s different--like lothcats, but you’ve already noticed that humans and near-humans are more tactile than you’re used to. Most forms of care, especially of partners and children, ends up physical in some way.”

He gestures between the two of them. “You view Skywalker as family, for all that you shy away from defining it, and so naturally gravitate to care. The easiest way for that to manifest when sharing a nest is usually playing with someone’s hair. Since he’s younger than you, and you’ve spent as much time as you have being the adult in his life...”

Quinlan trails off before he can comment on the question of whether they’re closer to brothers or father-and-son. Kenobi’s already expressed discomfort with that topic, well before they started naturalizing to this dimension. Quinlan’s not going to push for Kenobi to acknowledge Skywalker’s importance to him.

(They’ll have to address it at some point, but that’s a job for the mind healers, not for Quinlan.)

(For all that it’s going to impact and be impacted by their dynamics, that much is definitely not Quinlan’s to handle.)

Kenobi shudders in his arms, but doesn’t shake him off, and doesn’t stop Skywalker from burrowing somehow closer. Quinlan settles back in as Kenobi returns to playing with Skywalker’s hair.

“We really should invite Ahsoka, though.”

“Not tonight, padawan.”

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Additional notes:

I initially wrote “ternary gender,” but found that it didn’t strike true to how I envisioned gender and dynamic playing out among Jedi culture in particular. While the term ‘dynamic’ is used regularly in a more casual setting, Quinlan uses the term “ternary sex” when talking about it in the company of Anakin and Obi-Wan. I view it as a subconscious attempt to keep a clinical view of the ternary sex system present in the omegaverse dimension, in recognition that it’s new and unfamiliar and often unpleasant for Anakin and Obi-Wan, having come from a dimension that doesn’t have ternary sexes or the associated reproductive capabilities, instincts, or cycles.

I’d like to explore how the ideas of sex, gender, dynamic, and so on intersect within the context of this universe, because I think it’s something I’d have a lot of fun working with, but this is not the fic for that.

#Quinlan Vos #Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #QuinObi #anakin and obi wan #obi wan and anakin #disaster lineage #time travel #dimension hopping #omegaverse #SW Suddenly Omegaverse #past anidala #star wars #the clone wars #nesting #grooming #scenting #we went fully weird with this and I'm not apologizing... much #Phoenix Posts

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sun-flower-children · 4 years ago

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Felix with MC that has wings

A/N: Yes @demon-paradise I totally can write that :) awww thank you so much :’))) I might have changed some details on accident so I’m sorry in advance but yeah not too much based on canon.

When you first entered the world you were how you were at the convention. Wearing your handmade, but still well crafted, Sunstone Order Knight uniform and in a very much basic human form. When you were surprised by the feeling of a sobbing crying form you still had a normal human silhouette. When you met Anisa and Sage in the fire-lit office you still looked the same. You continued to look the same while you lived in their “secret” headwaters and learned about the world around you as well as how to defend yourself.

Felix mentioned how he could sense the magic flowing through you and that it also felt relatively knew. You told him all you could about the convention with the glowing from inside a glass box. You don't remember quite touching it but you felt leaving the place you were at to be in the place you are now. You were trying to just not randomly let out bits of magic and not turn anyone so Felix taught you breathing excessive and other techniques to help you with control and letting gout the amount that you intend.

After touching Rime’s magical book that Felix unearthed from the depths of the study’s couch you had felt a strange stirring and a wave of tingles, kind of similar to those one would get when listening to asmr but all over the body, then immediately feeling a sharp pain in your back. The initial shock left you in almost a coma state and you woke up on your bed. You were laying on your stomach and felt an unnatural amount of weight on your back pushing down into the mattress. Experimentally stretching your arms out and feeling grossed out by the slime like liquid that was covering the bed on both sides of you. You felt a little bubble of panic popping inside of your stomach and starting breathing in slowly to calm yourself down. You focused of the soft feathery feeling that’s tickling the back of your knees. ‘That doesn’t feel so bad’ you think to yourself.

Bringing your arms in at a 90 degree angle, preparing to push yourself up, and surprisingly feel that you couldn’t. There was too much weight for you to push yourself so easily. You open your eyes a look toward the window and see that the sun had just started pushing against the horizon. Your eyes wander towards the floor-length mirror on the opposite side of the room and see that your shape on the bed wasn’t what you expected it to be. you could make out the bump for your head but then there was a giant and lengthy curve before seeing the subtle shapes of your feet.

Now abandoning the calm breathing technique you start to panic. Without thinking you flung yourself off the bed and onto the floor. The weight crushing you and pushing you to the floor. You slide yourself, shaking and struggling, reaching for the nearest chair to push yourself upwards. Arms shaking from being bed ridden for a while and creaking under all the pressure. ‘How long was I on the bed’ you think once again to yourself. Finally bringing yourself high enough to bringing your knee off the floor and immediately crumbled again, your head hitting the edge of the chair. Your groan was loud and cut through the silence that you didn’t quite realized was so deafening until now.

Enough time had passed where you were struggling to get on your knees that now the sunlight was peaking over the bottom of the window sill. Your knees gradually warmed up and were ready to bring you into the vertical position you have been working towards. when looking at your feet you was long feathers sweeping the floor and tickling your toes once in a while. Breathing hard, sweating and shaking with pain and also from being used so quickly after not moving for so long. Your back ached and you could truly stand already trying to stay in decent posture only to fall backwards and feeling the flames of pain searing up your back. Tears flowing of the sides of your face and you angrily cried in frustration. You could stand as long as you hunched over so that the weight on your back wasn’t dragging you down as much.

Looking into the mirror you saw the wings that were now behind you. The weight that you could feel pulling tender skin down and stretching it in every which a way as you moved. You were too tired to feel the shock you would have otherwise, delirious with the pain. Giving up on standing you flung yourself to the wall space by the mirror and leaned against the nearby bookshelf. The sounds of footsteps could be heard. But lighter smaller ones, not those of soldiers or even a large cat man. Too weak to properly defend yourself from whatever it maybe your curled up into a ball, arms over your head. Your new wings instinctively moving to circled around you like a shield.

The door opened and someone walked in. “(Y/N)?” a soft voice called out.

‘Felix’ you thought, recognizing the voice but not moving. Instead you made a noise that was meant to be “here” but instead came out as more of a painful groan.

He moved towards you and could hear him in the space in-front of you.

“Barista, are you...” he pauses,”...let’s get you back into the bed.” still in the same tone of voice he used before. You made a weak noise in defiance, not wanting to go through the hassle of moving again. After the faint noise of Felix muttering something under his breath that wasn’t in the speaking language, you felt some of the weight lifted and almost thought that the wings had come off. you look up seeing a rather disheveled Felix; his glasses skewed and off center. He held both your arms and led you slowly back to the bed. You were wearing someone bed gown but the back was either cut or ripped open because you could feel the cold breeze much more easily on your back.

In the new mornings light you noticed that you wings were the same color as you hair but a but darker and much more silky and shiny looking. “Like one of those L’oreeel commercials.” stumbles out off your mouth. Felix stops and looks at you, probably confused but you aren’t looking at him, before bringing you to sit down on the bed. You leaned down slowly to lay back down again, this time on your side. The wings moving out to make a more comfortable position. Felix sat down and began to explain.

Most of the information was lost on you as you kept fading in and out of focus. But you understood that the magic book reacted to you being not of this world and having magic in a way that wasn’t at all anticipated.The wings somehow had to do with some history thingy that may or may not have happened before and maybe something else happened but you didn’t catch it. Some more things happened. Something else about Sage panicking in the corner when it happened and Anisa freaking out and yelling at Felix and something else. Guards maybe have came. Did he just say that they made you pretend you were a doll in the Earth stuff room when the guards came in looking for a leaf gremlin? That’s not right.

“And that about sums up what happened during the week you were, uh, developing a new, uh...” Felix looks at your new wings and the open flesh on your back,” wings.” He sighs a deep sigh. “(Y/N) are you hungry?” That would make sense since you haven't been able to eat in a while but you didn’t feel hungry. You wanted to move and change clothes. Maybe take a shower because the slime has gotten into weird places.

The next few weeks was basically you trying to relearn how to move. You learned that you have to lift your wings with your back muscles to make it easier to walk around normally. The giant baths now became very useful with all the extra space being very accommodating of your wings. The best you had ever felt during this entire period was when the four of you went outside, not long after you showered, and you opened your wings to the fullest. Really stretching them and fluffing them out. Hearing the awes of the people around you admiring your wings.

Later that day Felix and you had a little dinner date, if you will, on one of the higher balconies. He explained that your back had started to grow two lumps and slower grew. The way he described all the slime coating your wings reminded you of that one scene from the Matrix. You accidentally said that thought out loud which then resulted in you explained what the 2009 world was like, explaining technology, then getting into the movie itself. The entire time you were explaining to him about Earth he was looking at you, nodding and asking more specific questions every once in a while.

Once the group had gotten more used to your wings and making sure that they were healthy, everything began to lighten up. Sage would make cat vs bird jokes, Anisa would try to come up with ways to make life more comfortable, which then ended with you moving to another room with a bigger door ( it was closer to Felix’s so you didn’t complain).

The first time you tried to fly, he was so worried and had his spells ready to catch you ( which did help the first few times). Eventually you got it; not being able to go for long amounts of time but could glide. Everyday working out with Sage to get those wing muscles going so that you could launch yourself vertically from the ground.

Felix thinks its so cute when your wings also react with you, though he will never tell you. The way the puffed up, to make you look bigger, when he was around his father. Or when he would kiss you your wings would relax and touch the floor. When you are really excited they would do a ton of tiny flaps. Felix would love to clean your wings for you. They are massive and it does take a lot of time but this is something that he wants to do for you because he feels like it’s partially his fault.

Felix loved you wings. Hey thought they were so beautiful and made you a literal angel in his eyes. The way they shined in the sun was almost like how you would brighten his day with your laugh. If the two of you were sitting close he would either pet your wing(s) or even closer so you wings circle the two of you. The little privacy bubble was always welcome but also made him feel like it was more intimate. At some point you would hug him and the wings would then engulf the two of you; makes him feel so safe, wanted and loved. You quickly caught on to this and made sure to do it more often. Felix will sometime get overwhelmed in public and you would use your wings as dividers and creating a safer space away from whatever stimulated him. On warmer days you would create a cool breeze by gently flapping your wings. When people try to catch you for your wings he goes full ape shit on them because how dare they try to touch and harm his dear barista, his dear angel (Y/N)

“Your wings are beautiful (Y/N) “ he would say randomly one day.

“ Aww thank you Felix. I’m so happy you like them” you said while smiling at him.

Felix looked away, trying to hide his blush, and brought his book up closer to his face. He was tempted to look at you when he heard you softly giggle but restrained himself from doing so. The rest of the afternoon would be spent stealing secret looks from each other and smiling yourselves when one sees the other doing something cute.

A/N: I might make another lil’ story, a kind of part 2, depends how well this one does :)

MASTERLIST < for more :D

#felix #felix escellun #felix headcanons #felix x reader #felix x male reader #felix x gn!reader #last elgacy #last legacy x reader #last legacy x male reader #felix fluff #felix escellun x reader #felix escellun x male reader #felix escellun headcanons #x male reader #x reader

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pbandjesse · 2 years ago

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My eyes just started burning and watering?? Very weird. I am home! Safe from the incoming storms. I am really tired but I feel very accomplished. It was a good day. Even if it was stupid stupid hot out.

I did have a nice time though. I slept pretty well last night. And woke up in a good mood. I liked my outfit and my hair looked good. James even said so.

I left here, got breakfast, and headed to camp. I was actually got to camp on time and was able to go in the back way and got up to the art building without any issues.

I didn't have my cit today but that was alright. I was able to get everything set up and was only a little frazzled in the heat. I ended duo throwing shorts on because my thighs hurt from the heat. Something that hadn't happened this summer basically at all. But apparently today is one of the last 90 degree days for the next week at least. I hope that's true.

I had great kids today. I tried my best to ration out the objects for the jars so that no one group was getting all the best stuff. But of course everyone thinks everyone else has the best stuff. But man I tried. I would get even more little things later. But it's still really hard to make sure there is enough things!!

Thankfully though it's going well. And the kids really like the project. And I really like watching them figure out the best way to decorate them. And while they work I got to sew things.

I got three new stuffies done. One large bear, one small bear, and one bunny. The new bunnies are going to be so much better then the sort of square ones I had last year. I am excited. And I got some great feedback from some coworkers and kids and that was awesome.

I was a little short because I was to hot. But I tried really hard not to let it leak out. I would just text Jess the nasty stuff I wanted to say to people.

Lunch was fine. A black bean burger. Not my favorite but I wasn't to hungry anyway. I hung out with Laura for a few minutes. And she promised to bring me the tank vaccum so I could get my table clean for when Frenchie comes home on Friday. I am excited to have him back. I hope it doesn't stress him out to much. I'm not sure how she's been taking care of him. I hope he's doing well.

I only had one group in the afternoon. My youngest campers in day camp one. And they were super sweet I decided they would make their memory jars as memory cups because I wasn't sure about them having glass jars. But they did such a nice job and their pieces were very cute.

I had checked in with Alexi. And after my group was gone and I was cleaned up and everything was safely under the tent, I headed out.

I drove out to Timonium to go to the dollar store there. It's not actually a dollar store anymore. But I still got some good stuff. Glass beads and little things I thought would be cool. I hope this can last me the rest of the week. Fingers crossed.

I went home after that. It was not a bad drive. Though people were being dumb. I got home in one piece and was very excited when I saw Sweetp in the window while I was parking. And then I saw James. And I was like !!! Hello!!!

I came up here and I had a hotdog. James was also having a hotdog. And then they got to work cleaning out sandals from being in the lake yesterday. And I started cleaning the tanks

This took forever. I had to go up and down the ladder to get to Frenchie's tank and it too like 15 bucket fulls to fully rinse it. But it looks great. James helped towards the end because my hands were hurting and getting weak and was afraid I was going to drop the bucket.

Next was the bedroom tank. That one took a lot of work. James tried to help and thought it was clean enough but they didn't take all the water out and I got a little frustrated but it was fine. We sorted it out and now both tanks are pretty clean!! They will cycle until Friday. I think I'm going to get another fish and maybe some freshwater shrimp?? We will see.

I did some organizing. I caught up on my knitting. And James helped me cut some more plushies while I put eyes in the finished friends from today. I have a bag of things to sew now so I'm excited for that. Something to do this week.

Now we are in bed. Both showered and comfy. I am planning on staying at camp the rest of the week. Even though I've really been enjoying coming home. It's alright. I'll enjoy camp for the last couple nights.

I hope you all have a great night. Take care of each other. Wash your hands!!!

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plounce · 4 years ago

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what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

#cats the musical #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #demeter cats #bombalurina #tuggoffelees #demelurina #chirps #bird in the hand

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years ago

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|Touch Me, Tease Me| M|

SMUT/ A LIL ANGST

(Gif not related...he just looks...good. like..fuck.)

Pairing : Namjoon X Reader

About- Namjoon eats you out the minute you walk in the door because well...that’s the kinda husband he is!

Or- Jimin text’s Namjoon to brace him for the mood you’ll more than likely be in after a day full of drama and finally firing the front desk receptionist! Which essentially red for him to make you come hard AF and then feed you....OH, and You guys invite Yoongi over to talk about the Tae and Kookie “Thing”

WARNINGS: Oral/ Fingering/Light dirty talk/ Cum play/Light spit play/Over stimulation(M/F)/Pet names/Hand jobs/Body worshiping/ Is nipple play a thing?????/ (Also it’s not said but it’s somewhat obvious the OC is prob ovulating, since shes super emotional, and overly sensitive rn)

Note: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with!

WC:5.7K

Song Reference: Case Ft Foxy Brown “Touch Me Tease Me”

Final note: This is apart of a series, and this can be read as a stand alone..since it’s 90% smut lol however some of the references you won’t understand...

~~~~~

......Your tired...it’s been a long ass day.... “Baby?” Namjoon’s voice rings through your apartment the minute the door opens, though you can’t physically see him you still feel that honey-coated baritone run down your spine as it bounces off every wall. You close the door behind you with a heavy sigh, leaning against it letting as if your life depended on it, eyes fluttering shut immediately, more so mentally drained than anything else!

“Yea?” Your response comes out dryer than intended but you know Namjoon knows you well enough to not even be phased by it. You hear his feet patter into the foyer, still not bothering to open your eyes yet, everything just feels so damn heavy that even that alone seems exhausting!

Until eventually you start to feel the steam radiating off his body, followed by the owe so familiar scent of pine and vanilla...His allergies have been killing him lately so he opted to work from home today instead...clearly fresh out the shower.

The weight shifts against the door as he braces his hands on either side of your head, leaning down to nose at your face like a cat. Leaning into his touch as he works his way down your neck, even as gentle as his touch currently is you still feel it everywhere...everything just feels extremely sensitive today! Silently coaxing you to open your eyes, only to be met by those sharp, beautiful brown orbs of his...skin still holding a slight sheen over is tattooed chest..hair damp, face flushed. Nothing discrete in the ways yours eyes greedily unravel his body...not that there's much to unravel anyway. He's only wearing joggers for fucks sake.

Namjoon lets out a low hum, as he places a couple kisses along the hinge of your jaw “I heard someone had a shitty ass day….” He phrases it more of a statement than a question as he nips at your skin, leaning down to press a lingering kiss on the side of your neck as he unties your jacket. Soothing his hands down your arms as he helps you step out of it..letting it fall where it may. Lacing your arms around his neck, releasing a breath that you didn't even know you were holding, but that’s what he does to you. Effortlessly, he puts your mind and body at ease...you feel his breath ghost over your hair, hot, wet, wanting, the grip he holds on your waist seems to be the only thing keeping you remotely grounded right now! Titling your chin upwards silently,asking and he gives it to you, because of course he does, this man can't deny you a damn thing even if he tried.

He gently brings your lips together, coaxing your mouth open in a way that has you moaning out instantly, letting your hands slide down his sides gripping his waist. Once his lips touch yours there's no other way to describe the feeling except relief, utter fuckin relief, slips through every cell in your body as you both sigh into it. Realistically you know, everything will be okay, you know it’s just one bad day, but for some reason right now...it just feels heavy every thing just feels fucking heavy and you really just need this..you need him!

Namjoon lets a hand trickle up your back until it meets the nape of your beck, taking an almost possessive grip to keep you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your suddenly feeling really desperate and to be honest you don’t quite know why, however your clawing at your husband's chest like your touch starved knowing damn well your far from it. Namjoon has always been a very..versatile lover..theirs time and place, he doesn't need to always be in “Daddy dom mode”, and he knows you like the back of his hand. Well aware you need some kind of anchor, some form of control right now after the day you just had so he lets you take it. He lets you lick into his mouth as you please and he swallows every moan that slips past your lips as he rocks his hips into yours making your knees weak and your chest feel like it’s caving in on itself.

However no matter how desperate you feel right now, the kiss doesn't add to your state of arousal….it calms your mind...slowing all the gears down. Your body on the other hand, is a completely, different story it has a mind of its own . not that you blame it, not when you have a half naked Namjoon Kim pressed flush against you, caging you against the door!

You swear your apartment feels at least 10 degrees hotter than it was when you walked in, suddenly Namjoon is impatiently tugging at your dress. Alternating between stretching it and balling it into a fist. “This... fuckin dress” You instantly knew he wanted skin on skin, so you gave it too him. Pulling back just enough so he can tug your dress over your head leaving you in front of him in nothing but your bra, panties and high heels. “What do you need, baby?” He pants into your mouth “Just tell me what it is and I’ll give it to you…” Without responding you tug him closer, caging him between your thighs and the 6 inches on your feet putting the two of you damn near at eye level for once!

You don’t actually respond initially, however the way your entire body deflated into the door just says it all.... And that’s what snaps him out of his lush clouded haze for a moment. I mean yeah he wants to rip you apart..but this isn't about him, it was never about him. So, he steps back, and you damn near whine at the lack of contact, but you silently watch, as he cocks his head to the side taking a moment to look at you. I mean really look...and …he coos lightly, reaching up to thumb at your jaw, swallowing hard, breath a little uneven.

“Your tired” He notes gingerly as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and you try to smile but it doesn't quite work.

“I am, baby, mentally more than anything else…” It’s not like there’s been one catastrophic thing that’s taken place...it’s also not like you haven’t been through way worse. Your hormones are just fucking with you hard today, on top of the fact that there’s just a lot going on. Firing Jordan before you even know if the new hire is really gonna show up! This underlying tension between Tae and Kook that you can already tell Yoongi’s gonna get sucked into which will not end well! There’s nothing he hates more than petty drama...then there’s the Spectrum launch in Vegas next month….it’s just...yeah..yeah!

He nods knowing full well the chaos running through your mind, hating that you look like your handling the load for both of you though….

“We don’t have to do anything, I can run you a bath, we can cuddle, I can even chill out here and give you your space...I just…” Gripping your face in the palm of his hands with a deep sigh, eyes clearly uneasy by the blatant strain in yours “I need your mind to slow down a little ...yeah need!” Answering the unasked question within your gaze “I don't- you know you can always talk to me right?!” Thick brows furrowing in the center of his face “ I don’t care how busy I am...always ..” Squeezing your face to emphasize the point “Did I-did I do something? Are we okay?” The way he staggers over his words, timid and faint as if he thinks he’s the problem is just….

Ohhh Joonie baby! Leaning in to press your forehead flush against his...trying to latch onto some of his energy, because it;s always 10 times calmer than yours....

“Were fuckin solid baby” Tilting your head upwards to kiss him, quick but firm! “There’s just a lot on my mind...including you...constantly…” You offer the strongest smile you can muster “But your far from the issue” Eyes locking with his “And no, I don’t wanna move, I don’t want space, just want you-��

“You got me…” He cuts you off instantly taking your hands in his, feeling how they are scrambling along his skin. Your all over the damn place, almost frantically as if your afraid he’s going to evaporate! So he opts to guide the pads of your fingers along his chest, stomach…

“I just want you to touch me,until I forget about everything and everybody else. Just touch me baby, make me feel good….that’s all I need” The last words hushed off your lips as if the two of you were in a room full!

He looks down at you, with the perfect combination of lust and love... “Yeah, yeah, I’ll always make you feel good baby…” Your almost breathless once his lips find the curve of your neck again, heading towards your shoulder blade. His touch is tender, soft, gentle…. “Always be your escape from the rest of the world whenever you need me to me…” Namjoon gives you a soft dimpled smile,that has your chest clinching painfully tight, and the way his body shielded yours it was almost as if he was hiding you from everyone else. You felt safe, in his arms like this ``Let me take care of you tonight.”

Namjoon doesn't phrase it as a question because he knows how badly you need this. However his delivery is soft enough not to make you feel...forced...

You nod somewhat breathlessly, to be honest you’ve never been good at being completely pliant, and no, everything isin’t always a dom/ sub dynamic but it's still rare you just lay there and “receive” without giving something in return! Your hands are still all over the place though, like you don’t know how to just be taken care of. As if you feel as though you have to be doing something! Which only makes him lean in and kiss you again, harder, deeper, trying to slow you down...trying to slow your mind down...

The slow languid slide of his tongue against yours, leaning in to press his forehead to your temple. While you both try to catch your breath, “Breathe, it’s just you and me….I got you…” .

“I know” You nod pressing your body as tight to Namjoon’s as you can, your minds a hazy fucking mess but you know you want him, all over you and then some. Your tired and you just wanna be touched, sometimes you forget how addicted you truly are for the feeling of Namjoon’s mouth against your own. Especially during moments like this, when it’s soft, determined, heavy, when you can tell he's pouring everything he has into it...putting every ounce of his beaning to that kiss as if that's all he has to give! “I know…” You echo again, more so for your own sanity than anyone else's.

You can’t help but start to rock against him and you instantly feel Namjoon’s cock flesh against your inner thigh. He’s getting harder by the second as his hands claw down your back and your skin feels like it’s scorching hot beneath the pads of his fingers. It’s like he knows what your thinking too, the minute you feel him pulsing against you “Don’t worry about me, this aint about me…” He mumbles between kisses, those skillful lips of his latch onto your jaw “There’s no way in hell I could ever see you standing in front of me and not be hard as fuck, but I’m not worried about me and my needs right now….so tell me what you want baby…”

“Namjoon” You whine, mind and body feeling completely overwhelmed “I can’t even think straight right now I just want…”

Namjoon just smirks as he kisses you again, tongue hot and heavy against your bottom lip as he licks at the seam “Then don’t think, just let me have you, let me do what I want, what you need.. ” Sliding his hands down your back until his palms land on your ass and he squeezes tight, rocking your hips forward with a moan, and this man never fails to knock the air straight out of your lungs! As you hum out a poor excuse for a response “Can I do that baby? Can I just take care of you and make you feel good?”

“Let me in...” The words hushed against your lips and damn near knocked the wind out of you in the process, because you knew he didn't just mean sexually...he meant in every sense of the word.

‘Fuck” Whines form your lips as you suck Namjoons between your teeth, the word “Yes” hushes off your tongue so faint he barley hears you! He pulls back slowly, leaning down to run his nose along your jaw, tailing the path with his tongue, then leaving an array of open mouth kisses right beneath. Namjoon can feel you continiously rock your hips down against his thigh and he can’t help but smile against your skin, tensing the muscle to add to the stimulation “Taste me...” You finally implore voice completely wrecked with need!

He moans against your neck “Mm yeah?You wanna feel my tongue all over your pussy baby? You wanna come on my face?” “This man had the sexiest bedroom eyes you’d ever seen, biting down on his bottom lip…hips slowly grinding down into you. “Yeah, your coming all over it face” Rehprahasing it as a statement as opposed to a question and you feel goosebumps breakout along every inch of your skin.

Namjoon leans back down crashing your lips together, he’s kissing you with a purpose now! It was a little messy, more tongue than skill on both ends at this point not that either of you cared. Hands roaming up your body, as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Before moving down to sprinkle kisses over your neck, down your jaw, where he starts sucking at your skin. Clearly leaving marks that you and your concealer would have fun covering tomorrow but you could care less! Every time he sucks your skin between those skilled lips of his you let out a muffled sigh, which filtered into a deep needy moan that and your husbands skin felt like it was burning from the inside out!

It’s a mixture of a kiss and a nuzzle as he works his way down your body, eyes flicking up, hazy and heavy watching every reaction. Moaning in unison as your whines fill the apartment the more he marks you, the more he takes his time exploring and cherishing your body as if it’s his sole purpose on this earth. As if his cock isint hard as fuck and throbbing in his pants right now.

Reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side, letting out a sasatifed hum once he notices how hard your nipples already are. Leaning forward to just blow along your aerola until your hissing and squrimng beneath him. Namjoon grazes your nipples with his lips, and your already arching into his mouth before he even laces his tongue around the bud. Chasing the pleasure which only has Namjoon moaning against you even louder, your loud needy, and making a mess in your panties and you can’t even get yourself to care. Not when your husband's lips and tongue keep repeatedly grazing over your aerola to the point where you actually feel like you could come. The way he’s taking his time to suction each bud between his lips has your thighs are shaking!

“Fuck, my babies so sensitive today…”

You barely even acknowledge the statement your already so far gone, especially once he takes one nipple between his mouth, toying it with his tongue while flicking the other with his index finger and thumb. It has you shaking, gasping, and shuddering, back arching wordlessly asking for more.. Everything just feels like too much and not enough all at the same damn time!

“Baby” Namjoon whispers almost awestruck upon sliding his hands between your thighs, feeling how wet you are, a deep, moan slips from the back of his throat. “Fuck”

Namjoon’s lips finally started to paint a trail south and god he knows how to rip you apart with his tongue you were already a damn mess! Finally making his way further down, kicking and sucking a path down your stomach. Eventually dropping down to his knees, the site of those big brown eyes gazing up at you, lids heavy, completely blown out, that alone already had you feeling light headed!

You can feel him smiling against your skin, dimples and all as he kisses at your lower stomach, loving the ways the muscles contract beneath his lips. “Your so fuckin gorgeous …” He coos’s against your skin, as he hooks his fingers around the side of your panties. “Relax” Breaths again your skin and you gasp spreading your legs on command.

Forehead resting against your stomach, while his hands kneaded at your thighs, planting open mouth kisses right above your center. Goosebumps appearing in the wake of his lips, you could feel him smirking against your skin from how antsy you are! Already well aware of how bad your body was screaming for him at this point. Sucking down on the area, leaving a bouquet of bruises behind for you to look down at and relive all over again .

“Namjoon please…”You plead, rocking your hips forward, until he tugs at the seam of your panties, effortlessly ripping the thin lace apart. The slight pain from the coarse fabric dragging against your skin, accompanied by your husband's blatant desier to give you what you want has you moaning even harder.

“Holy shit” The moment he slid your panties hit the ground and your arousal hit his nose, the scent rippes a pained moan from his throat. If you didn't know any better you'd swear his mouth was watering once he tricked his fingers between your lips that were literally running down his hand. Pulling back much to your dismay only to lock his gaze with yours as he slowly sucks them between his lips one by one! The sight of him ,devouring your juices off of his fingers felt like enough to make you cum right there. Moaning against his hand as if you were the best thing he tasted all damn day. “God, taste so good baby”

You can feel his breath right against your pussy and it’s already making a muffled whine slip past your lips before he really even dose anything. Sliding his index finger in slowly ,going knuckle deep all in one notion, curling it upward until the thick diamond encrusted band on his finger was flicking against your clit! There's already intense pressure building in the pit of your stomach as you try to steady yourself against the door. The slick sound of him teasing up your center had your ears burning. “Babyyyy “ his face almost reflecting pain as he watched how wet you were for him and only him . The way your juices were just dripping down your inner thighs, looking, back at you as if he just wanted to slide in right then and there. But as he said, this wasn;t about him….this was all about his baby, and she asked for him to taste her...so that’s all he cared about!

“Jooon ...please” Eyes heavy as you glanced down at him whining …shifting your hips against his hands .

“You don’t gotta beg…” Leaning down to blow against your clit “At least not today” God, he looked like the perfect combination of an angel and the damn devil as he smirked up at you.

“Fuck, well just put your tongue on my clit and make me cum plea-a-oh fuck” Finally letting his tongue go where you’ve been aching for him, sliding up and down your slit slowly, and your body felt like it was on fire! The noise you let out once you feel Namjoons tongue hot and wet against you should be utterly embarrassing. But you could give less than a damn, he;s licking around the head of your clit in a way that has your toes curling against the sole of your shoes. Your body was hypersensitive today, every time his tongue touched you it felt like it was enough for you to come! Like he’s been edging you for hours and he just. Fucking. Started!

Namjoon pushing his tongue past your entrance, joining his fingers and your eyes fall shit , grip tightening on the doorknob, as bolts of pleasure rip through your veins. Your already sweating. The feeling of his tongue burning deep inside you rocking in tune with his fingers, the wet obscene sounds that fill your apart, you fuckin live for it! Everything just felt hot,your clit was already rock hard and your thighs were wavering like a leaf in the wind! The 6 inches on the bottom of your shoes are no longer working in your favor, not trusting your legs to support yourself, and clearly neither did he so he shifted our body seamlessly, wrapping your legs around his shoulders. Propping you up, so he could bury his face right where you wanted him and he was deep. He had you at the perfect angle to actually engulf his tongue within your entrance, just teasing your walls enough to have them trying to clench around the muscle!

You drop your head against the door, if you weren’t so far gone it would probably hurt, “Oh, my god, baby push your fingers in deeper” You choke on a moan and it feels like your entire body is trying to coil in on itself as your husband dose exactly as you ask. Wrapping his lips back around your clit, sucking in, moaning against your skin sending what felt like vibrations through your entire body. Pushing his fingers in as deep as possible, curling them alongside his tongue just enough to hit the soft right spot that he can find with his eyes closed at this point. The sensation rips through every cell in your body and your suddenly teetering over the edge almost embarrassingly fast.

“Your not gonna last ” He kept his face close as he spoke every word sent your body shaking harder than the next. It wasn’t even meant to be arrogant,or condensing this time, to be honest he was more so speaking to himself than anyone..almost in awe!

“No— fuck, I’m not but please don’t stop, keep going I need it- need you-fuck” The words fell from your lips in a combination of a plea and a whine as you nuzzled your fingers in those dark chocolate locks of his!.He already knew what you needed..to be pushed past you limits...overwork your muscles until they just kinda..shut down...until your mind shut down!

“I’m right here,I got you” Namjoon promised, letting your gaze meet and you struggled to focus, especially with him looking at you like that. Your lips parted, gasping slightly

“That’s it baby. Enjoy it. God, making such a fuckin mess too…” You can feel yourself almost pushing your heat right into his face at this point your so damn needy! Namjoon moans, blunt nails digging into your ass to keep you in place.

“My baby’s feelin good huh?” Namjoon’s voice is somewhat strained, setting deeper and husker than usual and goddamn

A strangled groan laves your throat that I guess can be considered a coked out moan, there wasn't much talking from that point on. You told Namjoon you wanted to be too overwhelmed to think and that’s exactly what you were! Your apartment filled with nothing but heavy moans, accompanied by the sound of his name leaving your throat at numerous octaves...

He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist to make sure you don’t fall, and though you asked for three, I don't think you were really ready, especially once he tries to spread them out slightly. And you actually scream, literally this is why you'll probably not be offered a lease renewal in a couple months. Your loud….

“Yeah, yeah...there you go....” Namjoon can tell that your right there, so he moves back to suck your clit back into his mouth your thighs instinctively go right around his neck. Almost as if your trying to suffocate him, and obviously you aren’t it;s just a lot...the pressures a lot..your body dosen’t quite know what to do.

Namjoon growls low, and theirs no other way to describe the sound except primal, possessive, and it’s so fucking sexy. “Stop...” Eyes glaring up in your direction, tone calm yet..stern...he may not be in daddy mode but ugh...he always is daddy . You whine but do as he says, far to gone to even be a smart ass right now, and you feel him hum around you! The vibrations hush against your skin. Scissoring his fingers in and out at a relentless pace, he told you he wasn't in the mood to make you beg and he meant it. The sound of his palm smacking against your lips, only grew louder the wetter you got, your own arousal making his hand almost stick to your skin. There was a slight sting, from the bulk of his rings, including his wedding band smacking against your skin yet that only had you moaning even louder. The rough contrast between his smooth stealthy fingers and the thick metal fucking you open!

It was like he could feel that your body was getting use to the rhythm, you were stilll shaking, however you wouldn’t jerk and twitch as hard anymore...so clearly he decided....fuck that! Sliding out and using his index and middle finger to spread your lips apart, just enough to let him attack the tip of your clit as he needed. Sucking hard, as if he was trying to swallow you whole! Pursing his lips to spit right on the bud, not that you needed it just because he loved you messy! Flicking and rolling his tongue against the most sensitive area of your body , and you felt your walls start to contract, around, fuck imagination at this point because his fingers weren’t in you but it didn't matter!

“Baby….fuck- “ Head lolling back to hit the door even harder this time. Fuck you’re gonna have a migraine, your moans are growing louder, gaze heavy, lightheaded as your eyes slowly met the back of your head.

Once he had you in his mouth on you like this,in a way that had you shaking, whining, desperate... he slid his fingers back inside you, curling them in and out. Thumb, teasing at your rim, circling the entrance just enough to have you arching into it, silently begging for more though you really couldn’t handle it right now. Probing that rigid patch tucked between your pulsing heat, your walls damn near suffocating his fingers. Every time he tried to pull out, you sucked him right back in, alternating between rolling his tongue against your clit, and sucking down on it. Those lips of his where relentless, treating your clit as if it was a straw and was the thing thats what sent your body over the edge!.You felt your body start to shake, and twitch in his grasp and yet he still didn't release your clit from his mouth even as you came, hard. You knew you had to be running down his faced at this point, and he fucking loved it.

You suddenly felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to lookd down at him, as he silently asked for permission to keep going....not even remotely trusting your voice! So, you just tightened the grip you held on his hair, pushing his head back down and Namjoon moaned so loud you almost thought he came.

“Nam-Joonnnnn” Choked from your lungs, eyes squeezing back shut...as his tongue started caressing your lips. Slowly rolling his neck head first into your pussy as if he was giving you a deep passionate kiss..fuck I mean, I guess he was.Is it possible to make love to someones clit with your tongue?! Because if soo...that’s exactly what it felt like Namjoon was doing!

He gradually slowed down his pace, not pulling away completely just yet, laying his tongue flat against your lips.Taking slow, long drags, until his tongue worked his way upwards curling against your pelvic bone. Namjoon licked you from head to toe not that it cleared up anything though, it actually only made more of a mess! As you twitched and jerked at ever flick of the tongue!Finally letting his lips move over to your inner thighs, leaving light butterfly kisses while he waited for your body to stop shaking. Your eyes felt like they were glued shut, and you were hot to the touch. You let him shift you around, not even attempting to help slowly adjusting your body so you could stand, but he knew you really couldn’t. So he kept a arm tight around your waist so you didn’t collapse, since your thighs felt like a damn slinky. Using the back of his palm to wipe the reminder of your essence off his face. Letting his tongue run along his teeth, he smiled down at you, pleased with himself as you couldn’t even keep your eyes open.

Running his thumb against your cheek until finally looked at him... nosing up your face...yet now his eyes read something softer. Less cocky more loving and concerned...He didn't even speak his eyes silently asking....“You good?” His touch was so soft you felt chills coursing down your spine again...only this time for a completely different reason....

You just nodded, a lazy smile tugging on your lips, as you started feeling like you could actually breath again. Taking a firm grip on the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing his lips to meet yours, kissing you deep, love and adoration pouring off your tongue, as you moaned into his mouth. Tasting yourself on every inch of on his mouth. Namjoon reached down, cupping your ass, with both hands wrapping your legs around his waist.

Walking you wordlessly down the long hallway to your master suite, kicking the door shut behind him, the room was dark, the only light came peeping through the curtains. Tossing you back onto the bed, an airy laugh leaving your chest as you bounced along the mattress. Resting on your elbows in a slight arch as your eyes drunk him as he crawled onto the bed, yanking you by your ankles to pull you down to him. Finally sliding your feet out of your Louboutins after fuck, 10 plus hours! Kissing both of your ankles in the process, lightly massaging the balls of your feet before laying them flat on the bed.

“Baby” Fanned past your lips with a smirk as he slid his palm between your thighs, moaning at the way the damn near stuck together. Even now, after you’ve came he hasn’t stopped doing what you've asked...you wanted to be touched welll....

Knees spread on either side of your body, supporting his weight so he’s not sitting directly on top of you. Namjoon’s touching you everywhere, though now your body’s hot and sticky but you don't mind. The pads of his fingers only had fuel to the flame, every inch he touches feels like its scorching against your Egyptian cotton. There's no alternative laced within this either expect taking care of you like he originally offered. His touch is a little stronger though, almost massaging your aching muscles in the process. Leaning down to trail open mouth kisses everywhere he can reach, sucking at your heat induced skin, leaving marks all over the damn place. The other boys will bitch but he could give less than a fuck right now. Not when your moaning and looking up at him so soft, pliant, needy...he’d give you any fucking thing you asked for right now!

You completely shudder beneath him, eyes falling shut, blissed and overwhlemed, and high off of everything that is Namjoon!

“Namjoon….”

Namjoon moans at that, at how needy you sound, leaning down to nose up your jaw “Say it again baby…’ Tracing a mindless path along your skin...and you give him what he wants, nuzzling into the crook of his neck...nipping and sucking his honey coated skin between your teeth. His cock grazes your thigh and no, you gotta do something about this, your mans in pain, he has to be!

Sliding your hand inside his sweats and the minute he goes to dispute you nip at his skin, “Let me..please let me…” The words porpously purr off your tongue in nothing but a moan and as I said..this man can't deny you a damn thing!

He nods against your hair, and you bump him with your nose until he brings his lips over to yours.You kiss him hard sucking his lower lip into your mouth, as you start to stroke him, you can feel him throbbing in your palm, precum leaking all over the damn place Namjoon’s dick actually feels warm in your hand he’s so worked up. Well aware it won’t take much at all he’s essentially been edging himself since you walked in the door!

Your husband breaths heavy and ragged into the kiss he’s already so close…”You took such good care of me Joon, always…” He moans, slightly whiny as he starts to rock his lips into your hand as you stroke him harder. Grip tighter “I love you baby” Thumbing over his slit and he comes, spilling all over your hand and into his sweats a string of moans falls from his lips as, eyes squeezing shut, arms shaking barley able to hold himself up. You don't’ stop though, not until he’s practically swatting your hands away because he can’t take anymore. Sliding your palm free, letting him take in the site, as he tries to steady his breathing, a glint of amusement in yours eyes as you bring it up to your mouth. Namjoon Moans against the side of your face as you lap your tongue over your palm, sucking each finger into your mouth into there redeemed ..clean...

“Fuckkkk” Husks off his tongue..and no matter how exhausted you are you let me fall into you..wrapping your arms and legs around his waist as he nuzzles against the crook of your neck.

The two of you just lay there in comfortable silence for lord knows how long until...

“I know today was hard, and I know it will probably get harder...but, we got this…” Hushes against the side of your face “We came so fuckin far, and were going figure this out...it’s just,,this is all a adjustment for everybody...but we got this…”

You don’t really wanna talk about work any further right now...you just wanna be in this moment with him...so instead you just....

“I love you.”

“And you know I love you”

He reaches up and grabs your jaw, grip firm, something heavy on his chest regardless...laying his forehead against yours.

“Whenever your feelin like this, just remember that it’s okay...and it aint just you....stop trying to bare all this shit by yourself. I’m fucking here, it;s my job to take some of this off your plate!” Nuzzling against your cheek “Weather that be mentally...emotionally...” Namjoon pauses, letting his eyes trail over all the marks along your body as he bites his lip, dragging it between his teeth “Sexually” Dropping his voice a little nipping at your jaw with a small smirk. Grinding his hips against you until your moaning again while clawing your nails down his back. Leaning in to press his lips against yours, only pulling back enough to speak, tone barley above a whisper....

“I’m here, to help you feel better,to take some of this off your mind, to be whatever the fuck you need, whenever, and however you need it...you just gotta let me. Let me take care of you more baby...let me...fuck” Shaking his head, chuckling almost nervously “Let us, take care of you sometimes...”

You don’t respond any further, only gripping him even tighter, theirs so much to unpack there that you really don’t have the mental capacity for right now. The concept of you taking care of everyone else but often neglecting yourself has been a thing since college...it’s nothing new...just sometimes your better at letting the boys in than others...

However, the main issue above it all, the reason your even in this “position” to begin with... work.The stress and pressure the two of you feel as CEO’s of your own company at times is unmatched! People talk about the struggle to gain success but often neglect what happens once you get there. Especially as a business owner the pressure you two feel to keep growing, knowing you have people that rely on you to live, rely on you to put food on the table...rely on you to guide their futures in a sense. Like Jungkook, the kids 20, this is the first job hes putting on his resume and he’s trusting you guys to give him the proper tools to grow in his field.

He’s just soo....fuck so bright eyed and trusting...and I guess something in you wants to protect him from how shitty the world is...protect him in a way nobody protected the 7 of you….

Fuck, barley a month ago you were having a panic attack about hirng someone new for that kinda position and , now you wanna put this kid in a safety plastic bubble and protect him from any and everything...your baby boy included….

A fucking mess is what you feel like right now, a absolute fucking mess.

Your not quite sure how much time passes, as you lay there with Namjoon wrapped in your arms, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck...but it feels good...it feels right...welll almost..it would be perfect if you had five other bodies laying along the bed as well...

“I’m going to run you a bath and order dinner…” Placing a couple kisses along your jaw as he starts to untangle himself tentatively but you don;t make a fuss, your both sticky as all hell anyway….. You just nod slowly, eyes sitting even heavier than when you first got home, gently letting your nails tease up his chest.

“Want me to join you?” You’re not even sure why he asks, he knows the answer but you indulge him…

“Of course...who else is going to wash my back for me?” You muse playfully and he just rolls his eyes, and exasperated groan leaning his chest as he rolls off the bed to head towards the adjacent master bath. Stopping halfway…

“Oh, so Yoongi called me today….” You only let out a low, slightly uninterested hum you know where this is going…”What…” He already sounds exhausted before he even starts, running a shaky hand through his hair “What are we gonna do about Tae?”

You hate when he looks at you like this, like he’s hoping you have the answers..because fuck you really don’t!

“He wouldn't really talk to me that morning, so I don’t even know what’s really going on. And of course I don’t wanna solely blame him, it’s just…” Waving his hand in the air absently alluding to what he didn't wanna say.

“He already had a slight attitude about it before, but tried to act like he didn't and now we're here..with him being petty at work,..yeah..yeah...I don’t know baby...I don’t know..”

Namjoon’s phone dings..somewhat grateful for the interruption... theirs a stated smile on his face which prompts you to hum in curiosity.

”It’s ugh...Yoongi, actually.....just checkin to see if your okay...” Of fuckin course it is..

You can’t help but giggle, feeling loved and exhausted but more importantly loved... nothing but fondness in your eyes at just the mention of his name...

“Tell him yes, and you should also tell him to come over” Namjoon’s eyes shoot up to meet yours, somewhat wide and disoriented and you just shrug, honestly out of options at this point. You’d rather address it now before it becomes a hot ass mess!

“Yeah, why not? Tell him to bring wine and sushi...maybe we can all just.. chill...smoke..cuddle...and come to some type of solution where our baby boy is concerned...because we can’t operate with this type of tension...that’s not how we operate”

~~~

Heyyy, soooo that’s all she wrote..for now! If you enjoyed show this some love, come let em know and I will keep this AU rolling!

1ST- QUESTION?

Sooo , would you guys want me to do a one-shot for when Yoongi comes over and the 3 of them discuss Tae? As I mentioned in Tae's first chapter "Pretty Please" There's always been a different more submissive/needy dynamic between Tae and the OC/Yoongi...so I could let them talk about there history a little...and then..maybe Yoongi could fuck her while shes saying between Joon's legs on the couch..IDK..idk where that came from...but I also aint mad at it!

FINAL NOTE-

Just to clarify....if you follow this series..obviously the Tae X Kookie issue was first brought up in Tae’s chapter “Pretty Please”. However the “drama” is what’s been happening since Kook got hired...in the next full length one shot “Got me Loosin all my cool” That’s Jungkook’s “intro” and it starts a month after he’s been working at Onyx....so some of these “issues” will be addressed then.

...As well as THIS “day” technically takes place within that one shot as well...I just did not tap into what happenes when she got home. However the OC will fire the referenced receptionist (The same one from “Pretty Please) in the up and coming one shot and Joon takes care of her once she gets home!

7 DEEP MASTERLIST

(WHICH INCLUDES 2 REFERENCED FICS ABOVE )

#Namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #kim namjoon smut #bts #bts smile #bts au #bts X reader #kpop #kpop smut #namjoon au #bts smut

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callboxkat · 4 years ago

Text

Statement of Patton Sanders

Author’s note: Anon, this is probably not what you meant, but, hey! Here you go!

Summary: Statement of Patton Sanders regarding a series of accidents. Statement recorded live from subject, February 7th, 2021, by Logan Sanders—no relation—Head Archivist of The Magnus Institute, London.

(Necessary bg info: The Magnus Institute is an organization that takes and investigates statements about paranormal experiences. Jurgen Leitner is a character who collected books with supernatural powers.)

Warnings: This is a The Magnus Archives AU, so if you’ve listened to that you should know what to expect. Body horror (cut off fingers, broken neck), nondescriptive vomiting, blood mention, food mention. Child abuse, sort of. It's in a story in this story. No character death or villain characters.

Word Count: 3289

Original prompt:

Writing Masterpost!

Ao3 Link

@badthingshappenbingo

...

“Hey, we have the same glasses.”

“Yes, I suppose we do—Do you need help with the chair? Oh, you’ve got it.”

Patton and the other man sat down on opposite sides of a desk. He was a weary-looking, bespectacled man who couldn’t have been much different in age from himself, although slivers of premature gray were visible in his hair.

The man—an archivist, he’d introduced himself as—leaned forward to turn on a tape recorder. It seemed a little old-fashioned, but it certainly did fit in with the overall vibe of the place (recording on a laptop would have probably felt out of place), and Patton didn’t mind. This would be much easier than hand-writing his entire statement.

The archivist cleared his throat. “Statement of Patton Sanders regarding a series of accidents. Statement recorded live from subject, February 6th, 2021, by Logan Sanders—no relation—Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.”

Patton shifted in his seat. The archivist sat across him, looking at him expectantly. The tape recorder lay innocently on the desk between them, the tape inside slowly turning with a quiet tick. They sat in the basement of the oft-mocked Magnus Institute. They were in an office, but even here the walls were lined with bookcases, stacked with boxes upon boxes, each of them, it appeared, filled to the brim with folders, or with cassette tapes. Other peoples’ statements, presumably. Patton wasn’t sure how he felt about that. His story just being one of hundreds more, maybe thousands, in those boxes.

“Do I just… start?” he asked.

The archivist adjusted his glasses. “Yes, please.”

He nodded, swallowed, and even before he’d fully decided where to begin, he spoke. The words came surprisingly easily.

“I used to work at a library in my home town, back in the US. It’s a little town in Florida, almost at the border with Georgia, pretty near the coast. I don’t… I don’t work there anymore, of course. But at the time—this was about three years ago, back in 2017—I was there most days.

“One day we got this book in the return bin. It was weird. Not one of ours. It didn’t have a title that I could see, but there was a label on the inside cover. It was a bit smudged, but the last name was Leitner. I don’t know if it belonged to them, or if that was the author… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, I guess.”

He noticed that the archivist suddenly seemed very interested in what he was saying, even leaning forward to hear.

“I was about to move the book over to the donations bin—I figured that’s what it was, you know, just a book somebody didn’t want, and decided to give to us rather than throw away, and got the wrong bin by mistake. But… I don’t know. Something about it just drew me in. I have no idea what; usually I go more for cookbooks, or crafts stuff, or um, lighter fiction. Not… that.”

He tried for a weak smile, but the archivist didn’t seem open to humor. Which Patton have once found awkward, but now it was almost a relief. He wasn’t sure how to make his story funny.

“So I took it out of the return bin, and I put it on my desk, instead. I was busy right then, but when I had a free moment, I sat down to take a look at it. It was old and worn, and like I said, there was no title. But it had this… weird feeling to it. Something off about it. I didn’t like it at all. But it was like I had to open it.

Patton sighed, glancing away. Suddenly, he felt on the edge of tears.

“And I made the biggest mistake of my life, and I opened that book.

“It was a story about a child who keeps refusing to do his chores. His mom would give him things to do, and the kid would say, ‘Yes, I’ll do them!’ but then as soon as the mom leaves, he’d drop the broom or whatever and run off to play with his toys instead. And as time goes on the mom gets more and more tired of this, because she has to do all the chores he doesn’t want to do.

“So, she takes him aside, and tells him sternly that he has to do his chores, or there would be consequences. And of course, he doesn’t listen, because he’s a kid.

“So the next day, takes him aside again, and tells him again to do his chores, and he continues not to. And it continues like that for ten days. But on the tenth day, the mom trips on the broom that the kid left in the middle of the floor, and she hurts herself. Very, um… very badly. She… breaks her neck. But she gets up off the floor, and her neck is all… it’s bent at a 90 degree angle. And there’s blood on the floor. I remember that page very vividly. Most of the book was in black ink, with some—” He made a face, “—illustrations. In the picture on that page, the blood was red.

“So, the mom… she goes to the kid, her neck all wrong, and she tells him, ‘You’re going to clean until your fingers fall off! Which… he does. She makes him clean, and clean, and clean. He has to scrub the floor, and when he finishes, she makes him start all over again, and again, and again. And, one by one, his fingers just… fall off.”

Patton was silent for a moment.

“On the last page of the book, there was a handprint. It wasn’t printed, you know, with ink. It was stuck in with a dark substance. I like to think maybe it was chocolate or something… but I doubt it. The weirdest thing about it, though, was that it had no fingers.

“When I closed that awful thing, I looked up, and it was dark outside. I’d apparently been reading for hours. I want you to understand—this wasn’t a big book. Maybe twenty pages, tops. And I’d found it near the start of my shift. I have no idea where all that time went, or how I didn’t notice it passing. Or why no one came in to disturb me. It’s like no one came to the library that entire day. I lived in a small town, like I said, but it wasn’t that small. We usually had people trickling in and out, even on slow days. Retired people who needed something to do, school kids doing homework, you know. You have a library here, you should understand, even if yours is more, uh… specific. So, it was really strange that no one had come in at all.

“Anyway, it was a horrible, horrible book. It was like someone set out to write a kids’ book about why they should do their chores, but instead of that, it was this nightmare version. I really didn’t want to add it to our library. Where would you even put a book like that? So I didn’t put it in the donation pile like I’d planned. But I also didn’t seem… able to just, like, get rid of it. I couldn’t just throw it away. Not because it was old and weird and maybe worth some money, no, more like… I don’t know. I just couldn’t do it. It’s hard to explain. So I put it in my desk, went home, and tried to forget about it.

“I’ll admit that, at the time, my apartment—my flat, you call ‘em here—wasn’t the cleanest back then. And thinking of that book, I kind of wanted to clean it. But also… I really didn’t. Thinking of that book made me very aware of the mess, but I kept thinking of that kid and the way his fingers just fell off, one by one, with that horrifying mom with her broken neck just watching, and then that handprint in the back of the book.

“I thought maybe whoever owned the book last, that Leitner person or whoever, put the handprint in there as some kind of joke. Just tilted up their fingers so they didn’t touch the page, to make it look like they didn’t have any. But I guess I kinda doubted that, even then.

“I made dinner that night, fed Jim and Pam—they’re my cats—and I left the plates in the sink to clean the next day.

“In the morning, they were stacked on the counter, perfectly clean. I tried to tell myself maybe I’d cleaned them and forgot, or maybe the cats had…. Somehow bumped them, and licked them clean, and it had just coincidentally looked purposeful. I don’t know. Pam liked to jump up on tables.

“I’d almost put it out of my head when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting any visitors, but sometimes a couple of my friends would drop by at random, so I might not have thought much of it, except that my cats suddenly started acting different. Scared. They were hissing, and they ran off to hide. That wasn’t like them at all. …I didn’t answer the door.

“A half hour or so passed, and I figured whoever it was was probably gone, so I went to peek out the front window. Sure enough, whoever it was… if there ever even was anyone out there… was gone. But there was a box sitting on the welcome mat. Plain cardboard, no shipping label or address or anything.

“I should have left it alone. It probably wouldn’t have changed anything, but… who knows.” He let out a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t leave it alone. I looked around, I wanted to make sure no one was there. No one was, as far as I could tell, so I opened the door.

“The box was small, maybe 6 inches long, a little less tall and wide than that—err, I’m not sure what that is in metric. Maybe like… 15 centimeters?”

The archivist waved him off. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry. So the box was small, and it was very light when I picked it up, which was honestly a bit of a relief at the time. I could practically hear one of my friends, Virgil, screaming at me about mail bombs. He’s a pretty cautious guy. Now I think maybe he had the right idea.

“I thought maybe the box was empty, even, until I stepped over the threshold and… and I uh, felt something rolling around in there.”

He shuddered at the memory.

“I brought it into the kitchen and opened up the box. Inside was… inside was a single, human finger, cut off just below where the joint would have been on the person’s hand.

“I felt sick. I was sick. I barely made it to the trash can. I remember my cats still didn’t come back to see what was going on, which was unusual for them. Normally they were very nosy little guys. It was like they knew something was very, very wrong. I don’t blame them for staying away.

“I called the cops right away, of course. Or, as soon as I’d calmed down enough to dial the number. I mean, course I did. Someone had dropped off a finger at my door.

“The lady on the phone was very nice, but I don’t think she believed me at first. Or maybe she just couldn’t understand what I was saying. I was a little upset, obviously. Eventually, though, the police did show up. They took the box, asked me some questions, and they left.

“That night, I was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, trying to forget the whole thing. I was almost done, but then, somehow… the garbage disposal turned itself on. Something wrong with the wiring, they told maybe. I was so surprised that I dropped the plate I was holding, and the stack of dishes shifted, and somehow, my hand ended up… my finger went down the drain. Into the garbage disposal. It all happened so fast. One second I was just washing a plate, humming the intro to Steven Universe, and the next….

“I scrambled to turn it off, but it was too late. I grabbed a dish towel and drove myself to the hospital in a panic. Only remembered later to send someone to look after the cats.

“They couldn’t save my finger, even if they had tried. There wasn’t anything left to save.

“A week later, I got another package. Left at my door, just like the last one. Identical to the first, but this time it was a different finger. Maybe from the same hand, but it wasn’t like I looked at it long enough to know for sure. And I’m not a doctor. I called the cops again, and they came. They weren’t much help. They poked around a bit, talked to the neighbors, and told me to get a security camera. I did do that.

“I was very careful that day, remembering what had happened last time, even though I knew it was ridiculous. What, some crazy person leaves a severed finger on my doorstep, and that somehow makes me lose my own in a freak accident? …But I was careful, anyway. And nothing happened that day. But the next morning, when I went to go to work… I slammed the car door shut on my finger.

“It kept happening. The same plain cardboard boxes left at my door. The camera always seemed to cut out when they were delivered, although once I swear I caught a glimpse of a silhouette. It looked… wrong, though. Maybe it was a tree casting a shadow or something. No one’s head looks like that.

“I stopped calling the police, eventually. They didn’t help. Just asked the same questions, swore they were doing all they could, and left. I stopped opening the boxes, too. I tried throwing them out, burning them, kicking them into the gutter. I went to stay with my friend Virgil, but the box found me there, too. I moved twice. It didn’t seem to matter. Every week, a box would show up, and within a day or two, even if I never even opened my front door or looked at the box, I’d lose another finger. Until….”

Patton looked down at his lap, where his hands sat. Where each finger should be, they instead ended in neat little stubs just after the knuckle. They were remarkably even, considering that he’d lost each one in different ways, in different weeks. One after the other.

“After that, it finally stopped. My hands healed as much as they ever would, and I went back to work—I still don’t know how I kept that job—and I found that book in my desk. I tried to throw it out, but I couldn’t make myself let go of it. I tried to feed it to the paper shredder, but I couldn’t make myself rip out the pages. Eventually I just threw it across the room, and it landed neatly in the pile of donated books. Apparently, it would have let me just… add it to the collection. But I couldn’t let other people read it—What if the same thing happened to them? So I took it home with me.

“I did try to get rid of it on the way there. I stopped by the river, a dumpster… I tried to set it on fire. Imagine trying to get a lighter to work like this. I couldn’t follow through with any of them, though, and not just because of my hands. The book wouldn’t let me. Or I wouldn’t let myself. I don’t know which it was, really. Maybe I was afraid something worse would happen if I managed to destroy it. I don’t know.

“I locked it away. Buried it where I couldn’t see it. Still, it was like it was calling to me, telling it to hold it, to read it, to place my own hand over that awful handprint. It was driving me crazy. The cats wouldn’t go near the room it was in.

“I tried to ignore it. To forget about it. For a while, I thought it was working. I was still constantly aware of where it was, but it got easier to ignore.

“Then, one day, the doorbell rang. It was another box. Inside was a single, severed toe.”

A silence stretched between them, yawning between Patton and the archivist. The tape recorder ticked on. A tear rolled down Patton’s cheek. When he continued, his voice was choked.

“I will never forgive myself for what I did next, but I couldn’t go through that again. Please don’t judge me. I know it’s unforgiveable. But you can’t understand what it was like, not if you’ve never been through something like that. I knew it was the book by now, that was doing this to me, and I had to be rid of it. I still couldn’t destroy it, but I could… give it away. So I went and I got the book, and I wrapped it up as best I could, and I wrote ‘DO NOT READ’ on the package in capital letters. And I gave it away. I don’t know who I gave it to, and I don’t want to know. I drove across town, stopped at a random house, and stuffed the book in their mailbox. I can only hope they never read it.”

Patton let out a shaky breath. “It worked.”

The archivist’s face was impassive.

“After that was all finally over, I decided I needed to get out of there. Not just out of the town, but as far as I could get. I had family in the UK, and one of my friends studied abroad here and loved it, plus you guys speak English, so it seemed like as good a place to go as any. So I moved. Nothing else has happened since. I don’t have any fingers, but at least I have all my toes, and I’m rid of that awful book. I’ve tried to forget the whole thing, which as you might imagine, is a little difficult, but I try. Still, when one of my coworkers mentioned this place—I work at a shop now, restocking at night, so I don’t have to see the customers—I decided to come. I just want to be rid of this story. So… if you guys can track down that book, stop it from hurting anyone else, please do.” He clenched his hands, as well as he could. “I don’t want its weight on my mind anymore. It’s done enough to me.”

He fell silent.

“Statement ends,” said Logan. The archivist leaned forward and turned off the tape recorder. “Thank you for coming in. You can leave the way you came. Roman, my assistant, will take down your details. We might contact you if we need further information. Do you, by chance, remember the address of the house where you left the book?”

Patton shook his head. “No, I… I didn’t want to know.”

Logan nodded slowly. “Alright. Well… we appreciate your time.”

“I hope my statement… ah, comes in handy,” Patton joked weakly. He almost smiled at the gobsmacked look on the archivist’s face, the most emotion he’d shown the entire time Patton had been there. And then, he got up, and he left his story behind. He’d given it away to someone else, and he was done with it.

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smallestclowninthecircus · 4 years ago

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Season 3 notes popping off

due to my desire to not completely fail all my classes this year i made myself slow down significantly while listening to this season, and the fact that the other person i'm listening along with had to catch up. We've managed to convert several other people to start listening and its pretty great.

ep 81: what does it even mean to be chosen by one of them? And if he was chosen by the eye. we know Gertrude wasnt? Because she cut the eyes out of the magazines?

ep 82: elias lmao. I understand why people like him so much bahshdhdk i thought he was gonna snitch on Jon but he didnt so he's fine. Ok but how do we think he knew all that stuff. Idk probably just institute connections. I love the fact that the recorder just wants to record stuff randomly bjahsjdhd. Elias feels a lot like Michael in the sense that he knows more than he should and talks in a way that implies he just wants to wait and see how things play out for his own benefit. I understand him knowing the things that happened but his description of her emotions implies something paranormal. Maybe he's connected to one of the entities. Which one I cannot guess.

ep 83: did a file get delivered randomly to the place he's staying at? Probably elias lmao. He thinks the mannequin is related to the stranger. Idk I would believe it.

ep 84: worms? I know he says earth worms but idk. Again? Is she making gordon golems out of trash? Martin popping off. You can tell the statements get to him more that they get to Jon. How come martin is so mad about it? I want to assume he just doesnt want her to get stuck there but idk. Jude Perry. The calliope organ. Jon heard a circus in one of the last episodes

ep 89: he's talking to perry? Like jude Perry? He says ... God? Is that what it is? Lmao. The Desolation. Jon is tired of ppl being vague and not telling him stuff lmao. Oh God Jon is so confused. Compel her? Is she assuming he has some kind of power? Does he have powers? Hmm. im agreeing with jon here please jesus christ why does everyone have to be so cryptic. Just say what you mean. "maybe you get an itchy eye" bahasjkdfklsjdf girl what. Agnes saved her? Oh this is the girl from the cafe story? So theres the Cult of the Lightless Flame? They worship whatever entity this is? The Desolation? Why do they all seem like they sorta worship her then? Is Gretchen gonna die oh god. fuckin michael. a different michael aaah. i see. dont do it shes gonna burn you. sir. please. sir dont you dare do- WHAT DID I SAY what did you think was gonna happen hhh.

ep 90: try to make it less obvious you're trying to get fired big T. Elias that doesnt sound like the most healthy thing to do. oh dear is this gonna be triggering for me. uuuuuh. uuuuuuuuuh. doesnt seem like it ok gonna keep listening. Jared. hmmmmm. Ok we've seen Keay and hotner or whatever his name was.

ep 91: Michael Crew. Oh is this the lightning scar guy. Mister jon sir did you just die. No? God everyone is so fuckin cryptic. Say normal things please. They all just like to go on about pain and agony and j e s u s c h r i s t we get it you got hurted by whatever thing. So theyre avatars? question mark? Jude Perry is an avatar of The Desolation? hhhh fractals. thats a spiral thing innit. Yup. messing with your perceptions. God they all talk about feeding their god and feeding that which feeds them and. hh what does that meann. Leave big J. please. uh oh. is it daisy? how come he has the web lighter still? the tape recorder just turns on sometimes you know how it is. So he can compel people? not that he knows it obviously but. a bit wack. powers go brr i guess? If the eye just wants knowledge i guess he feeds it by getting the statements? b/c i doubt it wants him to murder ppl or whatever.

ep 92: elias you all knowing fuck what do you know. (i guess all given what i just said) Lukas. Heard of them before. Mordecai Lukas. Loneliness. The lonely even. Jonah Magnus. Elias ur sounding like a bit of a dickhead rn. lmao jon's just like "i dont care" elias what is ur deal. Why does he want to tie her in. ohh i see. lmao theyre all just like "elias why" The Unknowing lol seems very much like something the eye wouldnt like. lol elias is gettin all philosophical. what does it really mean to be human. this still doesnt answer why gertrude wanted to destroy the archives tho.

ep 93: bahsjdfh he seems so dead inside rip. awww admiral. i love him already. ghh breacon and hope. purple mold. doesnt sound like anything we've seen so far. I think the funniest explanation for breacon and hope is that they dont actually serve the stranger they just kinda happen to be a random neutral party that cart around random spooky entity related stuff. ooooh. when we hear the slight static of the tape recorder it's cuz he's compelling ppl.

ep 94: the end! listen man they were all just grayed up for 4/13.

ep 95: the end also? death but also savagery/ animalistic shit. aww martin. lmao becerra. she's just been chillin in the corner.

ep 96: return to sender. haha minecraft go brr. prediction: breacon and hope? yup there we go. jon why is there an echo. are you in a stairwell? is he gonna eat it- yup. how did i call it. unsure abt what theyre talking about but ok. they kidnapped someone? Sarah Baldwin. ooooh that guy.

ok im just putting this here so i have notes for when nicholas gets to this part. It seems like (from jon's conversation with jude perry) that the desolation and the eye are kinda at odds with eachother? like i guess not directly but it seems like they dont really vibe? so how could be with both. Cuz if he has the heat powers and shit then we know he's an avatar of the desolation. but then why does he have so much eye imagery. also he got burned intentionally? like jude did when she went on her monologue about the feeling of burning? but then why did he wear the eye pendant. it stops him from being burned all the way which seems like he's not fully accepting the fire or whatever.

Nooooo I lost like a bunch of my notes rip. I keep forgetting to save.

Ep 104: tim gives a coherent statement without jon even being there. Ugh. Fucking robert smirk. Dont like him. Joey. Dont recognize the name. The show must go on. Clown. The spooky circus?

ep 105: total war... shogun 2? jon is just understanding languages again. "if i understood mandarin or cantonese" are you sure you dont big man?

ep 106: havent we heard this one already? mans in space? oh no this is just another episode in space. fairchild... uuuh. cant remember. oh! this is related to that! this is one of the ppl from the other side. sounds like a Vast thing. oh he's the one that the dude saw? but that guy didnt have a face... she's sorta like jon. wanting to dismiss the statements. lmao i love the workplace gossip. ace jon for the win! oh cmon elias dont be a dick. sunny meadows or whatever. thats the place we heard about.

ep 107: oh great is it jude perry again. Third Degree. bahahsdkfj she was arrested. sorry but imagining this old british lady getting arrested is funny. she was trying to resurrect him. using the skin book. he's not feeling well. jon take a nap. i wonder if this is what happens when he uses his powers too much. He gets into The Zone when he reads statements lol. didn't we have a burning train car in anothre statement? is it julia fairchild? bahahahs "kidnapped. Again." poor jon honestly. julia... about her dad. daughter of the murder shed guy? hunting like your dad liked to hunt or normal people hunting. oh hunting vampires!

ep 108: melanie has been suffering. poor martin peter lukas why do you have to be like this. can he not just use the front door? does he have to bother the ppl doing statements?

ep 109: how come he cut her off? kinda rude tbh. its either jon's influence or there was smth he didnt want her saying. is it gerard on the table? this sounds kinda like smth from one of the university episodes. is it the closed eye on the hand? yup. he's like one of the students! if the thing listening in is elias then... he can do that without the tape recorder yknow. plus who's to say it wont just turn itself on again

110: who wants to bet its a leitner?

111: Lukas related to The Lonely. I used to not like Gerard that much but i like him more now. but i thought there were 15? ohhh thats right isnt flesh newer? gerry for the win honestly. finally telling jon things.

112: lol "again" no one ever tells any of these ppl anything. tim and basira are just out of the loop constantly. music, like the war episodes. The hunt or the slaughter? probably the hunt. so Daisy is related to the hunt right? basira likes the reading, she's doing fine at the institute. daisy's getting worried...

113: it just turned on randomly. what is it lol. explossives! oh boy. why do they always assume he turned it on intentionally. melanie youre not making me like you that much. which entity is this about i cant tell. lol he was disappointed it was just the end. The title Breathing Room made me think it was gonna be about the buried but i guess not. So many of these entities deal with death but the end is one that deals in just death. it has no need for fancy deaths, just death is enough

114: more hilltop road statements? the tree. oh boy. ok the tree has 8 arms obviously theres the spider parallels. was she taken into an alternate universe? oh no. jon tries to phrase things so he's not asking questions. thats honestly good. "sometimes i was kidnapped" oh dear. they got gertrude. daisy ur so odd lmao. who wants to bet they dont know the tape recorder's running?

115: silaca? or whatever? antique man? meat grinder... related to the meat is meat episode? oh wow. they buy antiques from him. maybe dont antagonize this creature which can kill you?

116: lol theyre all just so done with elias. music? is it like the one band that if you hear them you die or wtvr. oh its chess? i am very much confused. mmm stranger go brr. gorilla skin? oh shit the dance. woah. this is so good. this is so gender. the words are wonderful. "you can just say tim" lmao trying to fool elias never feels like a good idea.

117: except elias lmaoo. oh shit. leitner getting some use for once idk. bruuh poor melanie she has been thru so much shit. martin you can just say youre worried about jon. lol he's so accurate in his jon impression. lol who was that. was that daisy? lmaoo. oop hi tim. oh god i hope tim doesnt die. i feel like i wouldve heard about that? but im not sure. destroying the source of knowledge is gonna be hard for jon. yay jon! you did a good thing. let him rest.

118: go off martin lmao. awww poor martin. oh god the tape gets that squealy quality and its awful.

119: woah. lots of things happening. uhh. POP OFF TIM!!

120: lmao elias giving a statement about jon's dreams lol. damn jon doesnt even get his own dreams? has to stay Watching even when he's asleep? f in the chat this man goes thru so much shit. oh boy its peter. lol martin my beloved. idk i dont trust peter.

#tma #neptune's tma notes #notes #tma season 3

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synthezcid · 3 years ago

Text

General Information:

Name: The Vision. Aliases: Victor Shade. Age: It’s Complicated. (looks and acts like a man in his mid-forties to mid-fifties depending on the form) Place of ‘Birth’: New York. Gender: Male / Masculine programming and voice. (He / Him) Orientation: Heterosexual. Species: Synthezoid. Occupation: Superhero, Adventurer. Affiliation: Avengers and its various off-shoots. Education: N/A, capacity for creative intelligence and unlimited self-motivated activity.

Relatives: Ultron (creator, “father”), Hank Pym (creator’s creator, "paternal grandfather"), Jocasta (fellow creation, "sister"), Simon Williams (mind duplicate, "brother”), Victor Mancha (fellow creation, “half brother”) Thomas Shephard (son), William Kaplan (son), Vin (son), Viv (daughter). Marital Status: Verse Dependent. Significant Other(s): Wanda Maximoff (wife / ex-wife), Virginia. (ex-wife)

Physical Information:

Eye Color: Blue / Gold. (form dependent) Hair Color: Bald / Blond / Grey. (form dependent) Height: 6′3. Weight: 300 lbs. at normal density. (Variable up to 90 tons) Faceclaim(s): Paul Bettany (main), Peter Capaldi (Victor Shade form only).

Powers & Abilities:

Synthezoid Body: Vision is a combination of Human Torch (the Android)’s schematics, Ultron and Simon Williams’ brain patterns and the mixture of Helen Cho’s cutting edge synthetic tissue technology infused with vibranium. -Nigh-Invulnerability: As his body is made out of vibranium, he is impervious to most forms of damage. He is still able to be hurt if the force of extreme enough, however. -Computer Mind: Vision is able to interact, interface and understand a variety of computer systems. He can achieve this wirelessly and at will. -Superhuman Intelligence: He is able to store a massive library’s worth of information and is able to recall it at any time. -Superhuman Perception and Reflexes: Vision is able to process vast amounts of data at an extremely short amount of time. This accelerated degree of perception also allows for him to react faster than a regular human. -Superhuman Senses: Due to his synthetic body, Vision is able to pick up on the smallest of sounds and is able to see the smallest of objects. He can adjust his optical scanners to pick up on a wide range of spectrums and energies. -Superhuman Stamina: Vision does not tire like a human. His stamina threshold is not known at this time. -Voice Manipulation: He is able to duplicate and match voice prints perfectly, giving him the ability to sound like any human or machine he chooses. He has adopted the voice of JARVIS in honor the fallen AI, the first to be killed by Ultron’s wrath.

Mind Stone / Solar Gem Enhancements: The Vision is a powerful construct from the onset, whose powers are only further amplified with the introduction of the Mind Stone / Solar Gem. -Density Manipulation: Vision can increase or decrease his own density, weight, and mass at will, allowing him to increase the durability of his physical form or make himself completely weightless. -Superhuman Strength: By increasing his density, Vision is able to also augment his strength beyond its normal capabilities to a point where he can lift up to 50 tons. -Superhuman Durability: Vision is able to strengthen his already durable body further by increasing his density. At maximum mass, the Vision weighs about 90 tons. -Intangibility: Vision can use his density control offensively by attaining minimum density. This allows him to safely pass through objects. Passing a part or all of his body within another living being and ever so slightly increasing his density enables him to direct that living beings actions. Even increasing his density to one half ounce is sufficient to cause the organism he passes through excruciating pain, a shock to the nervous system, and unconsciousness. -Flight: Vision can minimize his density to its lowest point in order to hover above the ground, granting him the power of flight. -Energy Blasts: Drawing power from the Gem, Vision is able to unleash beams of intense energy from his forehead. When using the Mind Stone, this energy is cosmic in nature, whereas the Solar Gem, true to its name, employs a hot beam of infrared and microwave radiation -Synthetic Skin Constructs: The Gem allows for a degree of matter manipulation limited to his synthezoid body. Vision is able to alter the form to suit his needs and look whatever way he chooses. He has demonstrated the ability to shape conventional clothes and change his appearance fully to look like an everyday human. This ability was lost for a period of time following the Westview Incident, but has since been re-learned.

#ok I cheated by managing to make it LARGELY verse agnostic #bro I haven't even included the in laws the amount of relatives he has is so stupid #anyway his powers are stupid #did I miss anything I don't think I did #; headcanon tag.

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years ago

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Director Carter, Badass peggy being in charge of everyone and everyone being scared/intimidated by her, especially the newbies, including but not limited to coulson, hill, may, etc

Oh my God Y E S. So I’m sorry I just kept rambling on. You can figure out the timeline, because I can’t, lmao.

Director Peggy Carter knew she was a hard woman, knew she was intimidated by extreme means and that’s how she wanted it to be. She’s lived her life, a woman in this career where she’s frowned down at for being a woman while working in the military. Where doors have been shut in her face, where she’s been talked down to, looked over for promotions despite she’s the best choice for the matter next to another Agent, bluntly ignored, or even had her sex used against her.

Peggy Carter was a hard woman because life her that way, because she knew the life of an agent because she knew that the world would not be easy on an agent because he was new. There were crazy things out there and she had the feeling they were just barely scratching the surface – starting with Schmidt and Steve and there was no end in sight.

Her age was not something these agents would use against her either – they knew better. She was harder and stronger because of all she’s done in her age. Sneaking behind her officer’s back as Captain America’s liaison, ignoring bluntly given orders? It was the first of many things she’s done quite illegal that should have her still sitting in jail if she did her math right. Her only saving grace was her quick wit and skills – and of course a few close friends in good places.

Howard Stark and Chester Phillips had pulled her ass out of the fire more times than she could count and Peggy was grateful for them. Phillips knew her worth better than anyone but also knew how to play the game. He knew how the world worked and fought back against it in his own means. What may seem like him yelling at Peggy for disobeying an order was his way of giving her what she needs. It wasn’t like he could stop her anyway – a lesson he learned quite well during the war and after.

Phillips had appointed her Director of Shield when he was ready to retire, claiming he was tired, and Peggy knew it was his age getting up to him. He’d left her in the perfect position with people they trusted to continue the work that he’d started and left his own files and notes for her, so she wasn’t alone. His death had hit her hard and reminded Peggy no one was immune to death – not that she needed a reminder. It just reminded her all the same of what was at stake here and how she had to do her job, no matter what these agents thought.

The knock on the door caused the Director to raise her head, glancing down at her withered watch to read it was nearing midnight. She hadn’t been aware of the time or the fact she was burning the midnight oil – no wonder she was exhausted. Her eyes were burning and she had to sigh and rub at her face.

“Come in,” she croaked, standing up to pour herself a glass of water. She wasn’t surprised when the door opened to see their new agent enter – a young Phillip Coulson. “Ah. You’re finally back. I was wondering when you would be coming in. Are you hurt?”

Her eyes scanned over his body, taking note of the gauze peeking from his collarbone and the burned ends of his dress shirt.

“A little,” Phil admitted with a slight shrug. “No more than normal. I wasn’t sure if you were in but I wanted to drop off the mission report before I left. The mission was a success – we retrieved the 084 and it’s currently being investigated by Stark and his men.”

Poise. Proper. This man would make a fine agent, Peggy was sure once she’s whipped him into shape. She can’t think she’s had any problem with him actually. While it wasn’t her job to train agents, Peggy liked to give a personal hand unless something called her away. She wanted her agents to be aware from day one when she recruited them that she was their direct boss, that she not only signed their paycheck but was the reason they were here. She handpicked every single one of them.

“That’s great.” She tossed the file on the desk, intending to take it home and read it while in the bath. She deserved that at least. “You may leave. We’ll resume training tomorrow. Be sure your friends are on time this time. I don’t feel like waiting.”

“What was that?” Peggy asked, her tone sharp as she rounded on Hill. “Agent Hill, I believe I asked you a question. What. Was. That.”

The woman’s head snapped up, a strand of her hair escaping the high bun and sticking to her sweaty forehead. She looked on the edge and devilish, unable to focus. Good, that’s how Peggy wanted them. It was beyond boiling in this room, the thermostat read nearing 90 degrees in a small room. She wanted nothing more than to strip down to her slip but the Director hadn’t even removed her scarf.

The sand beneath them blew across their face, feeling like sand hitting her and making her skin raw. No doubt a cold shower was in their future. If they got out of this room. They stood in a room simulated to be a desert, the humidity quickly rising by the hour, making their throats ache for a drop of water. The weather was designed to put them on edge, to stress any agent out. They were to think and act. A few agents were spread out in the room, hidden behind various objects. Hill had just an hour beforehand to read the files quickly and choose which was her current target. She had one choice, one ‘bullet’.

And of course, Hill chose wrong.

“A mistake, ma’am,” Hill replied in a soft tone, her eyes snapping to Peggy. “I-I panicked.”

“You panicked.” Peggy’s fingers snapped and all at once the simulation ended, an agent slid down from the top of a dune and tumbled down to end up at their feet. She helped pick him up and brushed him off. “Agent Hill, I am aware of how this situation is, how you’re in a stressful situation, but this is what life is like on the field. You have very little time to choose and remember which one is your enemy, your target in a stressful situation. Sometimes you don’t even get files, sometimes you don’t even get five minutes. If that had been a real bullet, a real situation then that man would be dead and I would be left with the fact to tell his family that their father is not alive because of your mistake.”

Peggy’s sharp eyes never left Hill’s face, seeing the realization they both knew sinking in. Her head slowly nodded before she looked down at the agent she ‘killed’, his vest splattered with red paint. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“No, you won’t. Let’s take a break, then we’ll try this again. Go wash up, Agent, and get some water.” She patted the young agent on the shoulder, watching Hill being the first to leave the room. Peggy sighed heavily and rubbed at her temples. Agents made mistakes, she told herself, Gods know she’s made a few of her own.

“What do you call that?” Peggy mused, cocking her eyebrow at Coulson as they looked in on the darkened figure sitting chained to the desk. A faux interrogation, but Coulson believed it to be real. To his knowledge, they’d gotten a suspect in for the deadly gas that was threatened to explode half of Manhattan.

It was an interrogation they’d set up for weeks, slowly spreading information, letting it seem real as possible, to even Howard designing a fake formula for their use. They had to go to these extremes, clean up included to train her agents. Peggy would not take anything less here, damnit.

Coulson’s eyes snapped to her from the side of the room, licking his dry lips. He’d become nervous and wary of her over the past few weeks, her clear reputation getting around Shield. “Ma’am?” He turned to look at her, finally turning his back to the perp. “Call what, ma’am? I looked at his file, I asked him questions.”

“You asked him questions that anyone could fake answers to! You need to get in his head, you –“ Peggy was cut off at the perp running into the glass, Coulson jumping away and turning to see the man standing against the glass, dragging the table with him despite he was cuffed. “I want you to handle him. Now. I need to go on a conference call but when I come back, you better have some answers – more so than I can find from reading his file.”

She paused and turned to read Coulson’s expression. He was soft, too soft and it made her heart pull at a reminder of Daniel. “Agent Coulson, you must become used to these interrogating techniques and think outside the box because I can guarantee you that half the perps that we have in there have already thought of what to say when they’re in here. And fifteen different ways to get out of those cuffs and to get into your head. You have got to be five steps ahead of them or I’m afraid you won’t make it as an agent. At least not fieldwork. Now, excuse me.”

The call lasted less than an hour, plenty of time for the brunette to grab a cup of coffee and wander back into the interrogation room. She found Coulson sitting on the other side of the glass again as if he’s never left and staring down at the file. She could see his scribble and notes he’s made while she was gone. The man on the other side, she noticed as the lights flicked on from her arrival sported raw spots on his wrists.

“He has a fear of snakes,” Coulson mused, snapping the file closed. “The wonders you can do with Stark technology at your hand and a few scenes from Indiana Jones. I believe you’ll find everything inside is all you need to know on the formula and the counter effect.”

Peggy’s fingers closed around the file and snapped it open, her eyes skimming over the pages. A smile pulled on her red-stained lips and nodded. “Very good, Agent Coulson. Remember these techniques for later.

“Director?” Fury stopped in his steps, looking down at the small file that Peggy had given him two days prior. It was late at night, meaning this man had stayed up late, not like she was in any better position. Two agents had just gone missing out of the blue and she couldn’t figure out why.

“I thought we talked about knocking?” Peggy sighed, waving the man inside and watching him collapse in the opposite seat of her desk.

“No, you talked about knocking. I pretended to listen.” Peggy’s eyes snapped to him and all the co-director could do was a smirk. “Listen, I’ve been reading over this proposal you gave me and…no.”

“What do you mean no, Agent? Those are your only two options. You are Co-Director and have to make decisions without my regard. Yes, the files will pass my desks but not all of them I will be able or have time to approve of. Are you telling me you want to take back your promotion, Agent?”

Fury was silent for a beat, Peggy counted watching his chest rise and fall. She could see the gears turning in his head. The way he held himself, his hand gripping his kneecap to a frightening point.

“No,” he said finally, breaking the silence between them. “I do not, Director. I mean that I am not listening to your asinine directions here. I mean no disrespect, ma’am but I believe there’s another course of action here that won’t put so many lives at risk and still give us the intel that we need, and rescue our two missing agents.”

Peggy smirked as she sat up and take a long drink of the bourbon she’s had sitting on her desk. “I see,” she sighed, as if it pained her to look through the file Fury had given her. “Very good, Director Fury.”

“This…was a test?” She could see the frustration growing in his eyes. “I already sent my agents out!”

“Of course this was a test! You will be tested many times while under me. You need to know when to make the hard calls when to see that your only two options are not your only options. You need to see there is much more than what meets the eyes.” She paused in her sip of the drink and cleared her throat. “You already sent your agents out?”

“Of course I did! I-“

“Good.” She cut him off, Fury raising a brow at her. “Because then you’re two steps ahead of me and the situation. Because that’s what I want. You’ve done well. Now go monitor your agents and the situation and report back to me when they’re home. You might make a fine Director just yet.”

Agent May. Melinda May. Her mother had shortly worked for Shield before being recruited elsewhere, claiming Shield’s life was not for her. If her daughter was anything like her, Peggy knew her hands were full and that was fine with her.

Just the challenge of Agent May was far more challenging then Peggy had imagined. The woman was a fine agent, she was great at combat, never wanted a weapon until she needed it and by then, she’d get it herself. She was great in training, and in just about every area but one.

Espionage. Keeping a low profile. Pretending to be someone else. To keep your head low and level and keep to the situation, until you had no other choice.

“I have not forgotten my spy days,” Peggy told May with a roll of her eyes. “I am still a spy, a codebreaker if you want to add another term to it. What you’re doing….” She waved her hand with a frustrated sound. “You’re awkward. You need to fall into the role easily, at the drop of a hat. You can’t help who you will be working with or what you’ll have to do to survive and get out of the building.”

“Knowing you it was guns blazing,” May smirked, leaning into the opposite wall and pulling her hair up into a bun.

“Don’t believe rumors that you hear,” Peggy mused. “It was not just guns blazing. It was sneaking around my own agents, my own bosses back to get the information we needed, that I needed. I’ve had to dance with many sexist men who loved to squeeze my ass in order to just get out of the building. Did I want to knock some sense into them? Yes, I did but I refrained from doing so.”

May looked at her up and down, chewing on the inside of her lip. She knew her problems in dropping her guard and trusting her partner if she had one. She knew the problem to fall into a role, keep that guard up, but not act if things went wrong. It was a frustrating feeling.

“Let’s go through this one more time?” She asked, causing the Director to rise from her seat and smile. “You sure you should be walking on that broken leg?”

“Don’t you worry about me, Agent. I’ve had much worse. Remind me to tell you about the time I was pierced by a piece of rebar.”

It was another late night for Director Carter. Save for the night crew, she was one of the few remaining people here. Fury had just left a few hours ago, muttering about not hearing from Coulson for a few days now. Last she checked, the man was still on a mission Fury had set him on with a suspected 084 in the Arctic.

Habit caused her to think of Steve and the fallen plane, but she knew better than to give herself false hope. She couldn’t survive on false hope alone.

Her personal phone ringing caused her to jump, frowning at the undisclosed number. No agent had her personal number, so who would be calling her? Frowning, she had no choice but to answer.

“This better be good,” she sighed. “Enough to risk calling my personal number, Agent.”

“Ma’am? Director.” It was Coulson. She could hear the wind-breaking up the man’s words. He had to practically shout in her ear. “I had no choice, ma’am. Too many bugs.” Wherever he moved to, Peggy could hear him a little better. His words started to echo. “We found him.”

Her heart leaped to her throat, but still, she couldn’t allow false hope. “Him who, exactly?” Could it be…

“We found him, ma’am,” Coulson murmured just for her to hear. “We found Steve Rogers. He’s alive.”

#Steggy #Minor Steggy #Steggy Prompt #Nonny Prompt #Peggy Carter Prompt #Director Peggy Carter #Phil Coulson #Maria Hill #Melinda May #Steve Rogers #some ending huh?#this is a HUGE ramble

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raleighliving · 4 years ago

Text

Raleigh Apartment Culture

So I'm of the mind that Raleigh is a great place to live. It has my favorite things, my favorite people, and I'm too broke to move anywhere else.

Raleigh works for me, but I recognize it doesn't work for everyone. Some people had less than ideal childhoods and wanna escape the state ASAP, some just want to live closer to their dream jobs or have new opportunities. That's all fine, but what if this describes where you are now?

What if, for the sake of argument, you're outside of NC and wanna move in? Moving is expensive, time-consuming, and risky at the best of times; so you wanna make sure that wherever you're landing is at least as good as where you started 90% of the time

"But RL," I hear you say, "you make Raleigh sound like an idyllic dreamscape populated with parks and a diverse kumbayah of peoples living in harmony"

I do talk about Raleigh in a positive light but, like a life saving medicine flavored like ass, sometimes you have to take the good with the bad.

So before you spend thousands of dollars on moving vans, boxes, and grits; here's a crash course on what it's like living in a Raleigh apartment, coming from someone whose majority of Raleigh Living (heh) has been in apartments.

First off, location. Any realtor will tell you that location is 80% of the sale to sound profound, and as anyone who has lived in the middle of ass-backward nowhere can tell you: It sucks having to drive 30 minutes to go anywhere.

Good news: With the Raleigh Beltline and connecting roads, there are very few places in Raleigh where your trip will last longer than thirty minutes one-way. Bad News: where you set down still matters because cutting down on travel is important for car and mental health.

North Raleigh is different from south Raleigh is different from northwest Raleigh, and the locals aren't the only difference you'll find between locations. Each segment of Raleigh has something to offer, with easier access to some attractions than others and neighboring cities for when you need something outside the RDU area.

Using downtown as the center of our wheel, people generally divide Raleigh into North and South Raleigh (with distinction given for NW, SE, NE, etc when needed). N.Raleigh is considered generally more upscale, a slice of suburban living interspersed with plenty of shopping centers for families and the moderately wealthy; but it's boring as all hell.

Want some fun? Excitement in the evenings and a more traditional urban experience with bars, night clubs, strip clubs, and more? South Raleigh is your best bet, at the cost of being the "sketchy" side of Raleigh. That kind of place where you'll see a bunch of auto shops that look abandoned but haven't been closed in the past 5 years and there's at least one customer from time to time.

Of course, this is a lot of generalizing but you'll find that it's still mostly accurate. The main exception in this is Capital Blvd, a highway cutting across north and south Raleigh on the eastern half of the city; a high crime corridor that's undergoing some changes in the northern half that have (somewhat) reduced crime but most people will still associate that area with the majority of Raleigh's crime and debauchery.

More importantly, is the distinction Raleigh citizens put on inside the beltline versus outside the beltline. The I-440 and 540 highways that wrap around Downtown form the mythical beltline, and to a degree what you have access to. Inside the beltline is the majority of workplaces, stores, and shopping centers; while outside you'll still have these things just to a more... dispersed extent.

North Raleigh actually kinda exemplifies this perfectly. Living inside the beltline, you have access to places like North Hills, Crabtree Valley mall, and Triangle Town Center. Live outside the beltline, like I currently am, and you're looking at 10 to 15 minutes to the nearest sheetz for that late night double hot dog fix.

So for point one: How important is it that you're near things? The majority of apartments and rental properties are in or around the belt-line, but if you want to save some cash on rent checks the cheaper properties are gonna extend your trips a bit.

Next, what can you expect in terms of neighbors? Does Raleigh have a hip party scene full of teens renting cheap apartments and blasting trap music at 3AM?

Depends on where you live

I swear not every point is going to be this, but there's an important distinction this time that affects the type of people your complex will likely have surrounding you; are you in North or South Raleigh?

North Raleigh has a ton of pre-schools, k-12 public schools (Leesville, Hillburn, Lead Mine, just to name a few), and office complexes that make up the job market. As a result the majority of apartment renters in north Raleigh tend to be families with a few small kids or so.

As a result, living off of Glenwood North and Edwards Mill I never had any noise problems from neighbors, the worst being kids playing outside at 3PM sounding like they were being murdered (which apparently is a common thing and I apologize to any neighbors I frightened with ghastly shrieks).

What I did have a problem with, however, was the typical Karen's you hear people complain about online. Renting a property now, we have access to our neighborhood's NextDoor page and it's hilarious sometimes to go on and read the comments, but living at a certain property we had a sort of mini-Facebook for residents

That thing was always full of either people who were moving out looking to sell their furniture or people passive-aggressively challenging each other/the apartment managers with comments about things happening around the complex.

Once I logged in to see one man accuse another, without ever actually accusing someone specific ("I know who did it and they should be ashamed" type post) of putting glass beer bottles under the tires of his truck to try and puncture them. Everyone acts civil in public, but then online they'll stir the pot harder than a chef with a hand mixer.

South Raleigh, you have the schools like Shaw University, Meredith, and NCSU; so the people renting down there are typically college kids. You'll see more apartments that cater towards them like University Village or University Woods, but sometimes these places will cater to both college kids and working adults

Avoid these places like the plague, because despite sometimes having a lower cost to live there the neighbors and their shenanigans will drive you up the wall (unless you're the type to join in, then go wild).

I've had friends stay at places like University Village and The Proper (formerly The Vie, formerly Wolf Creek) who've shared horror stories. 3AM parties ending in property damage or vomit in inconvenient places, drug deals not even trying to be subtle, and maintenance workers doing nothing because regardless of the apartment conditions; no school's gonna pull their contract with them unless news articles start getting written.

http://www.technicianonline.com/news/article_898ddf34-82f5-11e7-b3d8-07059d248619.html

https://www.wral.com/vie-at-raleigh-residents-finally-able-to-move-into-clean-units/16887833/

http://www.technicianonline.com/news/article_ea8ed7aa-a092-11e8-a2af-e70af36566d0.html

Otherwise, south Raleigh apartments are largely like north Raleigh apartments; except the crime rate tends to be a little higher and you'll run into more singles and people working full time.

Otherwise, Raleigh apartment culture is like apartment culture anywhere else in the country. You have a mix of apartments catering to those just looking to live versus more ostentatious luxury apartments with fancy pools, exercise facilities, and tech packages to draw people in.

If you're renting in Raleigh, however, do try to get a roommate or two if you can manage. Even with a decent job paying 800+ on a one bedroom one bath apartment can be exhausting at best, but with even one other person that can functionally halve your expenses

So if you're a young professional, or a student, or even if you have a small family, I can safely recommend renting in Raleigh. There's plenty of places that'll accommodate you, and cater towards your needs.

But what about everyone else? Are there people who shouldn't rent in Raleigh?

But there are groups who I'd seriously ask to consider their other choices before picking Raleigh as a destination for their new home.

For instance, are you a member of the LGBT community? A trans or non-binary individual? Well then, first off, I want you to know that you're loved and valid. I'm accepting of who you are and appreciate everyone's right to identify how they choose, but I'm not everyone.

Raleigh's bluer than other parts of North Carolina, as I've stated in other blog write-ups, but it's still part of North Carolina unfortunately and as a result, you'll face some challenges.

I doubt anyone's gonna burn a cross in your yard or knock over your mailbox, but Raleigh doesn't offer LGBT protections for housing, jobs, or credit/lending discriminations according to the Movement Advancement Project's website.

We have support organizations for LGBT and NB individuals, plenty of high schools and colleges have Gay-Straight Alliance clubs, and there are numerous businesses downtown that cater specifically to those individuals... but we're also the state that got into a lot of hot water because of a stupid bathroom bill, and our politicians are trying to pass anti-trans sports legislation (because they now magically care about the integrity of womens sports).

By that measure, but to a lesser extent, if you fall outside the Liberal/Conservative political spectrum then be prepared to have no one to discuss your politics with outside of a few sparse networks like the DSA.

Additionally, if you don't have someone to room with or a significant other to split costs with; you may want to try searching somewhere a little cheaper.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Raleigh housing prices aren't terrible for a major metropolitan city, but we're not the best prices in the world.

You can get prices on apartments and rentals lower than say, California or New York. However, compared to other parts of NC like Greensboro or Garner; rentals are still a bit much.

On average, a Raleigh apartment can run you about $900 for a single bedroom and a single bathroom. You can find cheaper, but often times there's some risk associated (Crime levels, quality of the room, quality of the property manager, etc.) Looking for a two bedroom? Then your average price is gonna jump up to around $1,200, and this is all before utilities and cable come into play.

It's true a lot of companies around here will pay more than the $7.25 minimum wage, but most low-skilled jobs will pay around 10-11 an hour.

I guess though, that's kind of an obvious statement. "Don't live in Raleigh if you can't afford to live in Raleigh."

I might expand on these thoughts at a later time, but hopefully for now I've given you some food for thought; or at the very least an entertaining read for a few minutes.

I love my city, and I love the friends I've made in it, but the sad truth is that nowhere is perfect for everyone; leastways Raleigh. If Raleigh sounds like the kind of place you'd like to live in, at least take a day trip to come visit and see how things go that way. Visit some stores, meet some locals, and form an opinion off of more than travel blogs and youtube videos.

#raleigh #North Carolina #NC #north carolina #travel #photography #urban photography #city life #city #city of raleigh #advice

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ducktracy · 4 years ago

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167. sweet si*ux (1937)

disclaimer: the review you’re about to read entails racist content and imagery. i, in no way, shape, or form, condone or endorse any of the ideals depicted below—i find the content gross and wrong. however, it needs to be talked about. to gloss over it like nothing happened would be just as insensitive and tone-deaf. PLEASE let me know if i say anything wrong, it’s absolutely not my intent to say anything hurtful or offensive, and i want to take accountability for my actions if i do. thank you for understanding and cooperating.

release date: june 26th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: friz freleng

starring: mel blanc (coach, hiccup sfx, mohican)

another typical festival of dehumanizing caricatures and stereotypes, there IS one aspect of this cartoon that is rather atypical--this is the first cartoon to debut a little known song by the name of “the merry go round broke down”. the song is the second anthem for the looney tunes shorts, officially debuting as the theme song with rover’s rival, just a mere 4 months after this cartoon. with “merrily we roll along” already instated as the merrie melodies theme, implemented with boulevardier of the bronx in 1936, the merry go round broke down preface cartoons in the looney tunes series, later prefacing every cartoon after 1964 with the bill lava version instead. it would also be the song number for daffy duck and egghead (sung by daffy), as well as being sung by daffy AGAIN with substitute lyrics in boobs in the woods. needless to say, this song has its fair share of history, and has made quite a name for itself.

the cartoon itself is another parade of demeaning gags, caricatures, and stereotypes, as well as remaining relatively plotless: we get a glimpse of native american life, complete with celebrity caricatures, song, and dance performances.

i will give credit where credit is due--the opening sequence of the cartoon is executed very nicely, with some beautifully painted backgrounds, accompanied by a tranquil (and appropriate) underscore of “indian dawn”. we open to the silhouette of a native american perched on top of a mountain. as the sun continues to rise, marked by changing backgrounds, it’s revealed that the silhouette is merely a statue.

wipe away to a pan of the village, lulling us into a false sense of security as things are uncharacteristically quiet. one of the “teepees” (looking more like a circus tent) reads CHIEF “RAIN IN THE FACE”, a take on warchief rain-in-the-face, noted for his crucial contributions in defeating general custer during the battle of little big horn in 1876. sure enough, a jerk of a pan reveals a stereotypical stoic native american sitting in front of the tent with a small stream of rain designated just for his face. the build up and reveal of the gag is clever, but the gag itself is tired and difficult to laugh at.

more teepee gags after--one native pushes his teepee up like an umbrella, sitting contentedly beneath it in a lawn chair. the most elaborate gag, however, serves as a callback to a merrie melodies cartoon dating all the way back to 1932. from the top of the teepee pops out a bespectacled, cap wearing college student toting a ukelele. he bursts into a rousing rendition of “freddy the freshman”, a callback to the cartoon of the same name 5 years prior, directed by rudolf ising. seeing as friz himself received an animation credit on the short, the gag isn’t totally out of the blue. the song itself would become a favorite of stalling’s, used in many a cartoon. once more, stereotypes prevail as the song is broken to allow a war-chant interlude before resuming. overall, the timing is well executed, but, along with everything else in this cartoon, is diminished in appreciation on account of being so tone-deaf. two more brief gags follow--a hen giving a war-cry after laying an egg, and a hitchhiker hopping into a woman’s papoose as she strolls by. nothing remarkable, more uncomfortable than anything. the gags feel a tad bit forced and directionless in my opinion.

next, a fade out and in signifies some momentum in the story as we spot a native american on the lookout, his entire upper-body rotating 360 degrees as he keeps a sharp eye out. suddenly, he spots something--a wagon crawls into view. a closeup shows two cows lugging along a covered wagon, emblazoned with TRADER DRUM on the side in big, red letters, serving as one of the more amusing gags as we see it towing a modern camper from behind.

particularly tashlin-esque camera angles pop up in this cartoon, especially during this sequence as the native american dashes over hill and dale, zigzagging in and out of the foreground. a good sense of audience immersion as we merely see his legs and the side of the cliff when he dashes alongside the foreground--frank tashlin would also utilize this camera/layout technique later on, this scene here particularly reminiscent of an angle used in now that summer is gone just a year later.

the native starts to write a telegraph--in the background, there’s an EASTERN ONION sign decorated on top of a counter advertising “90 words for 90 wampum”, the eastern onion sign a pun on the telegraph service western union. i’m more sympathetic to corny puns such as these, but the gag has definitely become rather obsolete and lost to the sands of time (since when was the last time anybody sent a telegraph?) the native hands it to a man behind the counter, who shoves the note outside of a hole in the tent and shows it to another native on the lookout. after reading the letter, he grabs a pipe and delivers the telegraph via morse code through the pipe. the sound of the pipe DOES align rather nicely with the underscore of “the sun dance”. and, of course, to top it all off, just as we’ve figured the telegram has ended, we get a topper of “shave and a haircut”, a hiccup sound effect by mel blanc capping it.

many a warner bros cartoon dons the catchphrase “calling all cars, calling all cars” from the 1933-1939 police radio drama of the same name, and this one is no exception. instead, however, the native american on the lookout drones in the same monotone voice “calling all braves, calling all braves, pick up a covered wagon at cactus canyon and red gulch. go get ‘em, boys.”

thus sparks some much needed energy--natives run out and (shocker) perform some war cries, the sequence cut short in favor of one (of a few) dance sequences. i do believe bob mckimson gets an animation credit for this cartoon, and while i’m not certain, his hand would certainly explain the solidity and fluidity of this next sequence as a native dances in time to a drum beat, getting progressively faster and faster as the tempo picks up, eventually transforming into a mere whirlwind. again, credit where credit is due--the animation and the technique behind it is very well crafted. it’s a shame such talent had to be used on such caricatures and stereotypes.

more high energy and more intriguing foreground camera angles as the natives dance around a fire. one woman beats both her stomach and her butt (makes me wonder about the hays code), another carrying her son in a papoose doing a war cry. eventually, the son carries the mother on HIS back, also doing a war cry. i wonder, did audiences then find the war cry gags as taxing as i do now? racism aside, it definitely serves as a crutch gag.

and, of course, time for a celebrity performance: a busty caricature of martha raye, living up to her nickname of "the big mouth” as indicated by her giant caricatured lips, singing “goombay drum”. the song number is catchy and fun, but her caricature is certainly... questionable at best. cultural appropriation much? sexualized much? she would have only been 20 here. nevertheless, animation is fun and the song is very lively, but, as always, difficult to appreciate to its fullest potential.

after her song number, animation of the natives dancing around the fire is reused as a segue between scenes. this time, two natives dance the hopak (because why not?). carl stalling’s score is certainly a highlight--his transition between music styling is wonderful as always. more fire dancing animation as another segue, this time used to fade out and back in.

the next scene of the natives charging on horseback would be reused a year later in cal dalton and cal howard’s breakout cartoon porky’s phoney express. the natives cross the creek to get to the trader’s wagon (once more some nice foreground overlapping and animation, all things considered), where the trader begins to shoot at them while they circle the wagon. the scene (as well as underscore) is very much reminiscent of the equally (if not more so) deplorable 1936 jack king cartoon, westward whoa.

an all out shootout occurs, the trader perching on a stool and shooting rapid fire as he spins 360 degrees, whereas a native fires back, spinning around his horse from the impact. there IS some rather unique and fun animation as a native fires his rifle, stars and sparks trailing behind. the novelty of the entire battle is lost rather quickly, however--it’s stretched too thin, too repetitive, too tired to be continually encapsulating. i will award points for creativity as the trader shoots at a line of canoes in the style of a carnival duck shooting game, but again the content of the gag is cringeworthy and uncomfortable.

nevertheless, this is where history is made, following in the carnival theme. the natives circling the wagon suddenly lift up and ride their horses like a merry go round, underscored of COURSE by “the merry go round broke down”, marking this the first cartoon to debut the future theme song. funnily enough, tex avery would reuse this exact gag in his 1953 cartoon homesteader droopy. friz freleng’s gag has the advantage of using “the merry go round broke down” to further the gag, whereas tex at MGM had to use “man on the flying trapeze”. this isn’t the first (nor last) time tex would take inspiration from friz. coincidentally, the cartoon reviewed before this, freleng’s streamline greta green, served as the basis for tex’s one cab’s family. his 1950 the peachy cobbler is also spoofed from friz’s 1946 holiday for shoestrings.

after the merry go round gag, the shootout resumes. we spot sidelined natives, “freddy the freshman” popping up as an underscore once more, observing the “game” as the coach paces back and forth, complete with a cheering section and everything. one native is shot right in the butt, prompting the referee to blow the whistle. the chaos screeches to a halt as two natives toting a stretcher, taking the injured “player” off the field. the minor key rendition of “freddy the freshman” does accentuate the gag rather nicely. stalling’s scores are probably the best thing about the cartoon, aside from the notoriety spurred on by the merry go round sequence.

the coach enlists in the help of one of the sidelined players, switching from broken english (sigh) to yiddish? another gag that, at least for me, has been lost to the sands of time. the native american he’s enlisting in gives a drawling catchphrase of “ooooooohhhh yeaaaaah,” coined from tony labriola’s character oswald on the ken murray show, used in quite a few 30s warner bros cartoons (porky’s spring planting is the first example that comes to mind.) maybe a riot back in 1937, but the entire gag sequence is too dated (and again, the stereotypes of it all) to get a rise today.

another tashlin-esque technique is employed as various footage is overlayed and reused to further the drama of the entire sequence. for me, however, this comes off as more of a tactic to fill up the time slot then to convey urgency and theatrics. this WAS the depression, so if you can reuse animation to save a buck or two, then by all means go for it, but this cartoon in general feels rather directionless and hollow, as if there was too much time left to fill and they had to think of a way to fill it up. and, of course, the overarching unpleasantness of the racism contributes to my unfavorable review. we get almost 20 seconds exactly of overlayed footage before things finally settle down.

at last, the shoot out has subsided. the animation is commendable for how fluid it is as two native americans pop up amidst the rubble, both crossing their arms. the first native is obviously surprised to see he has company, exclaiming in broken english (sigh) “who you?” the entire sequence is bogged down by cringeworthy, stereotyped dialogue. “me mohican. who you?” “me mohican.” the second mohican, obviously unpleased, grabs his tomahawk and socks his companion right over the head. i could be wrong, but the first mohican sounds like the vocal work of tedd pierce, the second one obviously mel blanc. the timing of the punchline is rather nice, i will concede, as the final line of the cartoon is “me last mohican.” an unarguably clever gag, soured by racism and stereotypes.

so, as you can obviously (or hopefully) tell, this cartoon is far from a favorite. it’s bogged down by dehumanizing and insulting stereotypes and caricatures, stereotypes and caricatures that have been done before and are awfully tired (as are all.) friz has worse entries under his belt, but he certainly has much better entries as well. this cartoon felt a bit loose and cobbled together for my liking, lots of extended scenes, reused animation, and directionless gags. it’s not quite a spot-gag cartoon, but i wouldn’t say it exactly has a concrete storyline either. it just seems to exist. there are, of course, some good qualities: carl stalling’s musical technique is creative as ever, and brightens up the monotony of many of the scenes. the animation was rather fluid in some parts, but the content being animated sours the appreciation for the full technique. not enough to save the cartoon, it at least does tote some notoriety and history with it being the debut of the looney tunes theme song (being instated as such only a few months later.) however, i can’t in good heart recommend this cartoon. too cringeworthy, too racist, too monotonous, too routine.

but, as always, i’ll provide a link. obviously view at your own discretion.

#lt #sweet si*ux #looney tunes #reviews #long post #freleng #racism tw

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nerianasims · 4 years ago

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Billboard #1s 1976

Under the cut.

Bay City Rollers – “Saturday Night” -- January 3, 1976

They prove they can spell Saturday a lot. Anyway, he's going out to dance with his girl on Saturday night. The song is bouncy to a fault -- I feel like the repetitive, samey beat is following one of those balls the mind-controlled kids bounced in A Wrinkle in Time. It sounds like a cheerleading chant. Something to do aerobics to, not to dance to.

C.W. McCall – “Convoy” -- January 10, 1976

So, besides the cb radio fad, 1976 was also the year of the OPEC oil crisis and basically, it seems the reason truckers became folk heroes evading The Man in popular consciousness had its roots in international relations. Anyway, it's a baritone story song, but about truckers instead of cowboys. I like the verse, "Well, we shot the line and we went for broke/ With a thousand screamin' trucks/ An' eleven long-haired Friends o' Jesus/ In a chartreuse micro-bus." It's a silly song with a lot of trucker lingo (or fake trucker lingo, idk), and I don't exactly dislike it, but I'm not gonna listen to it again either.

Barry Manilow – “I Write The Songs” -- January 17, 1976

It's obvious from the first lines "I've been alive forever/ And I wrote the very first songs" that Barry's not singing about himself. It turns out "music" wrote the all the songs. Except that's obnoxious too. People wrote the songs. Also possibly birds, but definitely people. And it's musical goo.

Diana Ross – “Theme From Mahogany (Do You Know Where You’re Going To)” -- January 24, 1976

It's a song about regretting letting an ex go, and probably more. There's a ton of orchestration that sounds like it belongs in a lightweight movie, and Diana Ross doesn't put much emotion into it. It is a thoughtful song, rather than one calling for melodrama, but I would like to hear some emotion here, and I am not getting it. A trifle light as air.

Ohio Players – “Love Rollercoaster” -- January 31, 1976

It's a funk/disco thing. I've listened to it three times trying to get anything from it at all. The lyrics are dumb, asserting love is like this or that amusement park experience. I'd think "love rollercoaster" would be about how there are huge highs and terrifying lows, but it's not. It's horribly repetitive. I guess it's danceable. But I find it dull.

Paul Simon – “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover” -- February 7, 1976

I love how pared down this song is. It's sort of funky, without all the funk orchestration. The simple drums are the main focus. The melody's also simple, without being dull. And the lyrics aren't complex; a woman is encouraging the narrator to leave his official lover for her. "Just get yourself free." But she's doing it so very nicely -- "I wish there were something I could do to make you smile again." Not that the song expects us to believe she or the narrator actually are nice. Or that it's really all that easy to leave your lover. But it doesn't tell you what to think about the situation either. An excellent song.

Rhythm Heritage – “Theme From S.W.A.T.“ -- February 28, 1976

Apparently, there was a TV show about S.W.A.T., and this was its instrumental theme song. Which is exactly what it sounds like. Not a good TV theme either. I looked up 1976 shows, and here are some shows with better TV themes from that year: Charlie's Angels, Alice, M*A*S*H, Happy Days (which surprisingly only hit #5), All in the Family, Barney Miller, Welcome Back Kotter (which hit #1 later), The Jeffersons (that Movin' On Up doesn't seem to have been a hit is shocking), The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Sanford and Son, The Bob Newhart Show... look, all of them. All shows in 1976 that I can find had better theme songs than S.W.A.T., often to a staggering degree. But songs don't reach #1 for being good. Still, usually I can hazard a reason for them. I can't for this one.

The Four Seasons – “December, 1963 (Oh, What A Night)” -- March 13, 1976

It's about the narrator getting laid for the first time. He didn't even know the name of the woman, which completely undercuts anything happy or fun about this song for me, and makes it icky. At least it's not falsetto. I wasn't born when it came out, yet it was overplayed on the oldies stations in the 90s so much that I developed a deep and abiding hatred for it.

Johnnie Taylor – “Disco Lady” -- April 3, 1976

This is a song about disco that isn't a disco song. As such, it confuses me. It's kind of a mild funk/soul song, and it's about how turned on this guy is watching a woman disco. Johnnie Taylor can definitely sing, and I'd like to hear some more traditional soul/jazz stuff from him. This isn't doing it for me.

The Bellamy Brothers – “Let Your Love Flow” -- May 1, 1976

I saw the title and immediately the song shoved itself into my head. It's such a mellow song, but the hook is still monstrous. The song is about how it's the season for love, so grab your lover and "let your love flow." It's one of many 70s songs about sex that sounds like it could be a song about how pretty trees are. It kind of is about how pretty trees are too. I rather like it.

John Sebastian – “Welcome Back” -- May 8, 1976

Welcome Back, Kotter was not on Nick at Nite or WGN or anything else that ran old TV shows when I was watching TV (rather than the internet), so I've never seen it. The theme song lays it all out -- someone moves back to his old neighborhood, where they need him. As TV theme songs go, it's fine. Just fine, though. When "Movin' On Up" and "Love Is All Around" were also theme songs for TV shows in 1976, why this one? The rewards of mediocrity I guess.

The Sylvers – “Boogie Fever” -- May 15, 1976

It's literal. You come in contact with someone who can't stop boogie-ing, and you will catch the Boogie Fever yourself. Listening to the song will certainly make you want to boogie, unless you are immune. A fun dance song, and I wouldn't be surprised if Tik-Tok made it a hit again in the next year.

Wings – “Silly Love Songs” -- May 22, 1976

"Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs / What’s wrong with that?" Nothing. Paul even emphasizes something important in it: "Love isn't silly at all." Still, I can't say it's one of my favorites. I get tired of it about halfway through, and it's a long song. A silly love song shouldn't be nearly 6 minutes long.

Diana Ross – “Love Hangover” -- May 29, 1976

It starts with Diana Ross making sex sounds that I find embarrassing. Then she goes into singing about how she doesn't want to get over "the sweetest love hangover", and a minute and a half in it becomes a disco song. I find the entire thing irritating.

Starland Vocal Band – “Afternoon Delight” -- July 10, 1976

"Afternoon delight" is sex, but these doofuses may as well be singing about tea and scones for all the excitement this song has. It still doesn't deserve the hatred it's gotten. But it's not good either. The number of sexless sex songs in the 70s is just... ugh.

The Manhattans – “Kiss And Say Goodbye” -- July 24, 1976

He has to break up with the person he's been cheating with. It's an achingly sad Philly soul song. It also manages to be way sexier than the vast majority of 70s sex songs. Real emotion (or the ability to fake real emotion) does a lot, as does being able to sing like this. And beautiful backing music. It's so sad, and so good.

Elton John & Kiki Dee – “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” -- August 7, 1976

This song isn't mutual. Elton John's the one who sings "don't go breaking my heart," and Kiki Dee's the one singing "I won't go breaking your heart." It is all and entirely and completely about the male character's feelings. Of course it's an Elton John song so I wouldn't like it anyway, but I really don't like this one, especially because it still gets airplay.

Bee Gees – “You Should Be Dancing” -- September 4, 1976

I hate the Bee Gees. Not on a personal level -- as far as I know they're perfectly decent people -- but their music. And I have a particular hatred for Barry Gibb's voice. His horrible falsetto has caused me immense pain in my life. If I should be dancing, then they need to shut up and sit down and let a band that I can dance to take the stage. As it is, I feel like a dog during the 4th of July; I just want to hide under a bed.

KC & The Sunshine Band – “(Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty” -- September 11, 1976

Here's a command to dance that I can get behind. Or that my behind can get behind. Again, a great song for dancing but not for listening to from KC & The Sunshine Band.

Wild Cherry – “Play That Funky Music” -- September 18, 1976

Good for both dancing and listening. How you can listen and not get into that funk groove even when sitting, though, I don't know. Play that funky music till you die.

Walter Murphy & The Big Apple Band – “A Fifth Of Beethoven” -- October 9, 1976

This was the #1 hit the week I was born. It's a good one for me; it's by a guy who loved classical music enough to write contemporary music based on it. Whenever I'm faced with questions about what kind of music is my favorite, my answer is "the good kind." Anyway, this is a fun song.

Rick Dees And His Cast Of Idiots – “Disco Duck (Part 1)” -- October 16, 1976

Billboard used to base their hit songs on calling record stores and asking what was selling. I think that's how this stupid, stupid song reached number one. I think it was a prank by a bunch of stoned college kids who co-ordinated it over cb radio or something. It's about a duck. Who discos. With an obnoxious voice and obnoxious music. It's by a radio dj, and is as painfully unfunny as radio djs usually are.

Chicago – “If You Leave Me Now” -- October 23, 1976

This song makes me have a weird reaction. It gives me the warm, comfortable fuzzies, and makes me want to sleep. That last part might not be too surprising, as it is a soft song, but to me it is very much more than that. I have always had trouble sleeping at night, since birth. My parents hit on putting me into the car and driving around with soft music playing to get me to go lights out. I need to ask them if they played Chicago during that. I can't think of any other reason for my hindbrain association with this szzzzzzz....

Steve Miller Band – “Rock’n Me” -- November 6, 1976

Good bar rock, since it's the Steve Miller Band. Lyrically, it's also more complex than most of its genre. At first, he sings "I got to please my sweet baby, yeah." Then he starts singing about all the places he's been, including "Northern California where the girls are warm." And then "Babe, you know you are a friend of mine/ And you know that it's true/ That all the things that I do/ Are gonna come back to you in your sweet time." Well then. I can totally see @katatty's Duncan Huckleberry singing this song. And getting away with everything. It's a fun song, though (because?) the narrator is likely a dirtbag.

Rod Stewart – “Tonight’s The Night (Gonna Be Alright)” -- November 13, 1976

It's a sex song, and it is hugely skeevy. "Don't deny your man's desire/ You’d be a fool to stop this tide / Spread your wings and let me come inside." No, asshole, cover it up if you want to come near. And how about if you want her, you care something about her desire? This was a huge hit from a huge star, but I have never heard it until now. Ugh. I need to shower, this is gross. Also I hope whoever he's singing to is packing mace.

BEST OF 1976 -- "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover." I don't even think it's an amazing song, just a very good one, but the 1976 #1s don't leave me much to work with. Fleetwood Mac released some singles, but people wanted "Disco Duck" rather than "Over My Head." Tons of great music has survived from 1976, but most of it is not on this list. WORST OF 1976 -- "Tonight's the Night (Gonna Be Alright)". "Disco Duck" is stupid, but it doesn't make my skin crawl.

#billboard number ones

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essaysbyciara · 5 years ago

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Old Habits Die Hard | Part One: Days Before

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Dave East x Y/N Fic

SYNOPSIS |

Warnings: Language, Light mentions of sexual situations

Hey, family! Here’s part one of Old Habits Die Hard! I think I tagged everyone that asked but message/comment me if I missed you or would like to be added.

DAYS BEFORE

“When is you and that fine piece of chocolate gonna be here on Saturday?”

“Aunt Jerri! You gon’ learn not to talk about my man like this!”

A laugh careens throughout your body thanks to your favorite Aunt Jerri’s declaration of lust for your fiance, Yahya. Ever since you posted your engagement photos, Aunt Jerri’s been screaming from the mountaintops -- and bothering her co-workers -- about her only niece getting married. You’re not surprised: Aunt Jerri has always been a bold one. You admire her life-of-the-party attitude with fly outfits to match and independent nature juxtaposed with her moxie for dating the neighborhood hustlers because of their “first class ticket to the Rolls and fur life.” She’s who you would love to be in 30 years.

“He looks so much like your Uncle Terrence. God rest his soul.” Terrence, or Uncle T, was your aunt’s favorite of all the neighborhood hustlers.

“Oh man, I know! It is a bit wild, huh?”

“I’m sure my brother would love this one like he did T.”

“Yeah…”

You still hadn’t worked through the idea that your Dad wouldn’t be around to give you away on the big day. “I just want someone to be able to take care of you, that’s all.” was one of the last things he said before he passed on. You measure all of the men in your life up against your father. Yahya -- that fine piece of chocolate your Aunt Jerri couldn’t stop raving about -- came the closest so saying yes was a no brainer.

“But what time are y’all coming? Ariel just wants to make sure she’ll be around.”

“She’s coming from school? Aww, now I’m excited!”

Ariel is your baby cousin but in reality, you two are like sisters. She followed you around as littles and even now as adults, majoring in Communications just like you and craving a big time job in a big city like you too.

“Oh, no … she’s home already. She’s just ripping and running the streets. I can’t keep her in the house. She outside doing God knows what right now...”

“You know she’s good out there. I’m not worried about her.”

“I’m not but those little nasty-ass boys on the corner. Those I’m worried about…”

The light from your desk phone snaps you out of another hearty laugh.

“Oooh...Auntie Jerri, let me call you back. Yahya is calling me.”

“Oh yeah, go jump on that tall and long...”

“Aunt Jerri!”

You always look forward to this moment in your day when time halts to allow you and Yahya some time to speak to each other. Yahya’s voice makes you melt; a mix of New Orleans and Bay Area, something you’d never heard before in your life but is so soothing to your ears. His laugh vibrates your eardrums and sends shockwaves throughout your body. He is such a good dose of medicine after a long day in the office.

“Baby girl, just wanted to check on you about Saturday morning with the counselor.”

“Yahya, I know … that’s the day I wanted to get to driving up to Philly though. I’m sure Dr. Rhodes can reschedule.”

“Yeah but I think we need to decide what we want to do before then, if even scheduling another appointment is necessary.”

“I mean … I’m down for looking for a new premarital counselor but your parents might have a fit. They’re the ones that suggested Dr. Rhodes.”

“My parents ain’t the ones getting married. That’s us, love.”

You appreciate Yahya’s rebellious nature especially since you both grew up in homes that preached the straight and narrow. So straight that, at the behest of his parents and your mother, you both agreed to go to premarital counseling. It would be the only way they’d agree to pay for the wedding, a gift and an avoidance of debt that you two couldn’t pass up.

“You’re speaking my language, Yahya…”

“Yeah? Figured I would be. I was ready to bounce once he said that we should abstain from sex until we’re married. He made some great points but I don’t know, baby girl…”

You’d had been thinking about the counselor’s suggestion to pump your sexual brakes before the wedding too. After weighing the pros and cons, you were actually okay with giving it a try. You did want to see if you two could communicate in a healthy way without knowing that the resolution of the problem didn’t mean a roll in the hay.

“We don’t have to make a decision on that now. The counselor even told us that. But again we can find a counselor that fits what we want to do, you know. Your parents didn’t have a say on what counselor we should choose. They just want us somewhere.”

“See … that’s why I’m marrying you, (Y/N). You make sense.”

“I balance out your nonsense, Yahya. That’s why.” Yahya reacts astonished at your comeback. And turned on too.

“Word, Y/N? Don’t make me come over to your office. I know how to get you screaming some nonsense…”

Ariel tries to block out all of the nonsense as she walks up the street to the corner store affectionately known as “papi’s”. The temperature peaked at 90 degrees just minutes ago, the children taking advantage of the gushing waters from the fire hydrant as the the older ladies balanced watching them with gossiping on their porches. Ariel didn’t want to come home, the rolling hills of college feeling more peaceful than ever but when she heard that you were coming to visit, she quickly bought a bus ticket back home. She had to see her favorite cousin.

Seeing you this summer would make this trip to the corner store worth it. She believes she’s in the clear until Mir, a dude that could pass for Meek Mill’s little brother, grabs her hand before she makes her way into the door of “papi’s”. She snatches her hand away with much force, almost running into Dave walking out of the store with a bottle of water and a Backwood in his hand.

“Damn, Ari!”

Dave notices Mir start to follow Ariel into the store. Mir’s highkey aggressiveness toward Ariel’s been brewing for days.

“Chill on that, Mir. She off-limits, bro.”

“Damn, Dave. You plottin’ on her or somethin’?”

“Don’t worry about all that, bro.” Dave cuts Mir a look that could slice through steel. Mir quickly heeds Dave’s request. “Go in there and grab a dutch and stop being a lame-ass nigga.” Mir nods in fear, lifting his body off of the wall and into the store just as Ariel walks out.

“Yo, Ari. My bad about dude.” Ariel tries to ignore Dave, keeping her head down as she quickens her pace up the street. Dave jogs up to grab Ari’s hand.

“Dave, the fuck…”

“Yo, yo… chill. Shit. You went to college and got all tough, huh?”

Ariel fights laughter. Dave’s smile and quick wit could break down the best of them. She also overheard Dave check Mir for his overeager advances. “What’s up, Dave? I gotta get home.”

“I ain’t gon’ hold you, I just…what’s up with (Y/N)?”

“Oh we ain’t doing this again…’

This isn’t the first time that Dave has asked about you since Ariel’s been home from college. Ariel’s avoidance of the store has little to do with the street harassment and more to do with the fact that Dave has been incessantly asking about you since Ariel’s return. “I’m not her handler. I don’t know where she’s at all hours of the day.”

“You wouldn’t have to be if you’d just give me her number.”

“I’m not doing that, Dave.”

Despite his sudden protection of her from Mir, Ariel never liked Dave. She knew him to be just like every other dude that languished in front of “papi’s” with nothing to do, only the harshest of weather keeping them from their daily post. They’d hold open the door for all the neighborhood mothers and grandmothers but street harassed every girl with a seemingly grown body that walked past their way. They’d make sure the neighborhood children made it to school on time but were quick to start fights under the store’s awning when the street lights came on.

It appeared as if Dave was their ring leader. Dave was too much of a “grown-ass man” to be on that corner. Too grown to be snapping with the teenagers, too grown to be “ripping and running” through all the young moms on the block. He had a rep of loving them and leaving them. One of the ones he left slashed his tires with ease years ago.

That’s why when Ariel spotted you hanging out with Dave on that very same corner last summer, his arm draped around your neck in a protective but possessive way as your hand caressed his tattooed forearm, she wanted to drag you away from him. She didn’t want to see you get left either and by all appearances, you did. You deserved better, she thought, and now you have it with Yahya. And in this moment, it would bring her so much joy to burst Dave’s bubble by letting him know that you have done just that.

“Why you asking about her all of a sudden anyway?”

The annual block party was just days away, triggering severe thoughts inside of Dave’s mind about the day you two met and those days after when Dave would text you and you’d come over to let your fear fall away with your clothes. You were the most fun he ever had and the most peace he ever felt. In no uncertain terms, Dave fell in love with you.

“Don’t worry about all that, Ari. She good though?”

“Yeah. She’s super solid.” Ariel was looking forward to meeting Yahya. “But if we done, I gotta go…”

“You not giving me her number? Nothing?”

“If I give you her Instagram, will you leave me alone? Shit. It’s (your instagram name)”

Dave pulls up your Instagram on his phone. “It’s private, fam.”

“That ain’t my fault, Dave. Bye.”

Ariel laughs under her breath as she walks up the street. Once he sees that you’re engaged, maybe he’ll get the clue to stop asking about you.

Lust is racing in and out of your moments of laughter with Yahya.

“You want to grab a bite on U Street tonight or you want to do something else?”

“I’m barred from doing you until we get married, so I guess dinner works.”

“Yahya, if you don’t….” You cut off your playful scolding of Yahya once your cell phone vibrates on your desk. You look down at a notification from Instagram. You don’t recognize the name requesting to follow you but as soon as you unlock your phone and tap the notification, your breath suddenly hitches within the depths of your chest.

You see tattoos mostly covering a honey-brown complexion and a grimace that could stop even the worst criminal from trying something tragic. His white tank top stretches over the upper body of his 6’5 frame, his basketball player build posing in front of that store where he had you hemmed up under his arm afraid to let you go, a gesture that made you feel so safe despite everything around you telling you otherwise. You then notice that face with that scruff that touched the many different swatches of skin on your body, even the most sensitive of spots.

You try to stop the heat in your chest from traveling down the rest of your body but it’s too late. You exhale what feels like an eternity. It had been a year since you’ve heard from Dave. At this point, you exorcised last summer’s fling with him from your soul. It had been too long, you thought, but man was this the wrong time to be conjuring spirits from your love grave especially since you are days away from returning to the city that played backdrop to your summer love story.

“...if I don’t what, Y/N? Y/N.” You catch your breath by Yahya’s second calling of your name.

“I’m sorry...I was reading a text from one of my clients I’m working with. I need to call them back after we’re done.” Yahya senses the urgency in your voice but fails to detect the lie.

“No worries, love. Let’s meet at the Amber Bar tonight at 8. I guess we can discuss the counselor’s suggestion later on.”

“Sounds good, Yahya. See you in a few.” For the first time since it echoed from your lips, you hesitate to tell Yahya “I love you.”

You hang up the phone and commence to scrolling through Dave’s instagram. You cross your legs to quell the pressure that’s brewing between them. The anger and confusion continues to boil within your spirit. You wonder why the Universe decided to bring this being back into your universe.

You accept Dave’s request.

Taglist: @yoursoulstea @harleycativy @twistedcharismaaa @dorkskinneded @need-my-fics @ghostfacekill-monger @writerbee-ffs @chaneajoyyy

#yahya abdul-mateen ii x reader #yahya abdul-mateen ii #dave east #dave east fic #fanfiction

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toast-the-unknowing · 5 years ago

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What are the #thots on CDTH?

This is begging for one of those “edgy/depressed/dumbass bitch/thot/bastard” memes, but sadly you sent it to someone with no patience for slapping together graphics, so you get a lot of words instead. Behind a cut, for length and SPOILERS.

I really enjoyed this book, my reactions to most of the additions to canon were positive, it felt a wide range of emotions while reading it and upon finishing I found that it had knocked me sort of off center in that way where I don’t want to write anything ever again, or read anything, or really do much but stare out of windows. I know that feeling will pass, but I’m soaking in it for now. I haven’t yet discerned if there are going to be any substantial changes to the ways that I write these characters, when I write these characters again.

I loved Ronan in this book, which was a relief. I had been a bit worried that Maggie intended for him to end up as Lonely God Ronan, isolated and just too damn special for the rest of humanity, but it now appears that is very much not the plan. It hurt watching him be trapped at the Barns, wanting something different from life and not knowing how to get it, and it was amazing to watch him forge a connection with someone new and find the capability that he has to help other people, instead of just kind of thinking of himself as the fuck-up.

Holy Shit I felt emotions about Matthew, that was unexpected and unprecedented. Fuck did that boy make me sad. I am greatly looking forward to seeing where his story goes, now that he actually has one. I want some quality Matthew & Jordan dream duo bonding time.

I want, just, quality Jordan content in general, I love Jordan, I need more of her, she was wonderful.

Hennessy leaves me cold, but I had a very similar reaction to Ronan until most of the way through The Dream Thieves, so I am giving her the benefit of the doubt and waiting to see what happens in the future.

HOLY SHIT I LOVED EVERYTHING ABOUT DECLAN.

It did crack me up that it literally took one page for the book to start talking shit about him, but I also found the whole “Declan is deliberately, crushingly boring” idea interesting. It surprised me but still makes sense in retrospect, which is the best kind of surprise. I hadn’t pictured him as the kind of guy who would go to work and let people snap at him and call him by the wrong name, but I think my understanding might have been a little closer to the version of Declan that still thought he could have Senator or Congressman in front of his name. I think Declan might be the character I most have to reconsider, but I’m happy with how he was portrayed here and I’m looking forward to doing that reconsideration, and to seeing what happens to him next in canon.

God but he just continues to be the hardest working brother, and he still fucks it up, but he doesn’t want to fuck up, but he just shouldn’t have to deal with all of this shit, and ow, ow, my heart.

I adored Declan/Jordan and every moment where she delights in surprising an honest reaction out of him. “I see the real you when no one else does” is EXACTLY my kind of ship.

I had really wanted this trilogy to force Ronan to reexamine his understanding of his father, but getting to see Declan do some actual work on processing his pain is fantastic too. I love all of the moments where he admits that he hates Niall. It fucked me up so bad, because it’s like he doesn’t want to be thinking or saying it but he just cannot keep it in. It’s like his emotional nightwash, but he doesn’t get to dream it away.

@comicsohwhyohwhy and I once discussed the problem of Ashley, and we JOKINGLY suggested that maybe the Ashley from TRB and the Ashley mentioned in TRK are two different Ashleys, that maybe Declan has just dated a string of women named Ashley, and then we had a good laugh about how absurd that would be, and I cannot fucking believe that that has turned out to be canon. I am oddly delighted with this development.

I am happy with the Adam content that we got and with the size of his role. I felt like the book did a good job of honoring his importance in Ronan’s life, letting him be present and matter and affect Ronan (and disagree with him in productive ways where they didn’t just argue and where he wasn’t just Declan 2.0), while still keeping him in a support role, since that was apparently the goal. I’m unclear on what kind of role he’s going to have going forward, but it looks like he’s being set up to have some kind of character arc, with the “Adam is lying to everyone who knows him” situation, so I really do want that to pay out and go somewhere, even if he does continue to be a supporting rather than featured character.

That whole Harvard situation breaks my heart: Adam’s friends think that his family is wonderful and that his boyfriend is a violent drunk. I can’t imagine any interactions around that that aren’t fucked up. Adam having to defend Ronan to his friends any time he comes up, but not being able to tell the truth, so he just sounds like he’s making empty excuses for someone that’s bad for him…which is something that he has in fact had to do, but not about Ronan, about the parents that all of his friends are “jealous” of him for having. Fuck. FUCK.

I loved every mention of Gansey and Blue. I can understand why Maggie doesn’t want to include them as characters, but that could have easily ended in a situation where they’re just…noticeably absent, and instead we got this, confirmation that they still talk to their friends and love them and are involved in their lives, plus we got A+ Gansey-texts-like-an-old-man content.

I enjoyed Farooq-Lane a lot just from a standpoint of being an ordinary normal person who gets put into a weird as shit situation and then…continues to be an ordinary normal person who has ordinary normal reactions to things. I find that kind of shit fascinating – it’s the kind of thing that makes for great comedy and improv, but it can also be very effective in drama, and we really got to see a wide range here.

What. the actual. fuck. is up with the New Fenian and Mor O Corra. Like I mean okay the Lynches have to live through all their parent trauma again, yeah I get that, okay Niall apparently made a dream double of an actual woman he’d slept with which like, wow I didn’t think Aurora could be retroactively creepier but damn if Niall didn’t find a way, blah blah I get all that. But like. What is – what is that relationship, exactly? Between them? Niall’s ex made a dream copy of him, too, but like…as a kid? Or one that doesn’t age? Has Mor O Corra out-creepered Niall Lynch? What the actual fuck is up with those two. I almost don’t want to know. I kind of love being this weirded out.

Bryde is really goddamn tiresome. I am expecting he’s going to turn out to be a villain and honestly that can’t happen fast enough for me. Although I anticipate that we’ll see Ronan buying into his crap more before that happens, so, it looks like we get to look forward to a lot more overblown insufferable monologues about how “special” we are and how we’re better than those gross boring mundane people. Blah.

I’m kind of disappointed that this is apparently a series where the stakes are THE END OF THE WORLD and where the protagonists have to fight a SHADOWY INTERNATIONAL GOVERNMENT ORGANIZATION that can send ARMIES of WELL-ARMED HIGHLY TRAINED OPERATIVES to HUNT DOWN THE PEOPLE WITH SUPERPOWERS – this is 90% of all fantasy stories, and it’s boring, and I’m tired of it. I like that the stakes in The Raven Cycle are small but still immensely meaningful. What happens in The Raven Cycle if the characters don’t succeed? Gansey dies. Ronan dies and Matthew falls asleep. Adam doesn’t go to college. Blue doesn’t get to travel the world. The world doesn’t explode, but we still care so so much about seeing them succeed, because we care so much about those characters living and getting to build the future they want. That’s a thousand times more interesting to me than “we have to…[dramatic music, put on sunglasses] SAVE THE WORLD.” Spare me.

I’m still going to read the other two, obviously, and I’m not even really mad about this, mostly just rolling my eyes. But I expect that Maggie is going to use this plot device I don’t care about to do things emotionally and character-wise that I do care about, and that’s the important part.

There is one actual thing that pisses me off with this book, that I actively hate and wish was not a part of canon, that I will probably just ignore and pretend isn’t canon, at least once I have wrapped my head around the fact that it even happened in the first place: why the fuck does Ronan go to confession.

I was willing to accept in The Raven Cycle that Maggie had no interest in doing anything with the fact that she had made the Catholic character and the gay character the same character, because Ronan is actively figuring himself out in the course of that series, because there’s so much else going on in his head and his life that I can buy that religion isn’t his top priority, because hey, I kind of liked that the series wasn’t one more Sad Story About A Sad Gay Who Is Sad Because Homophobia. I can accept a Ronan who goes to mass every week because that’s family time, because that’s tradition, because that’s what Lynches do.

But going to confession – with some degree of regularity! – is not going through the motions. When I was a Catholic school girl and an ALTAR SERVER who went to mass twice a week, confession was still a “maybe once during Lent, if we get around to it” kind of deal. What the hell does Ronan say in confession, exactly? He’s not confessing to the shit that he actually feels guilty about, playing god and creating life, because that’s a secret. He’s not confessing to the thing that he’s getting told every week is going to send him to hell. So what is he doing there?

This ceases to be “skipping past homophobia so we can just have a nice happy gay story for once (or at least a story that’s unhappy for other reasons)”. This is firmly into “deliberately and cruelly ignoring the real pain and suffering that the Catholic Church inflicts on oppressed people every single day” and I think it was a grave, grave misstep.

So my super general #thots: loved it, largely positive, some things I’m iffy on but excited to see where they go, a couple of plot elements/characters I don’t care for but can put up with for the sake of all of the good, one big negative that will probably feature only very very sparingly in canon.

#cdth spoilers #call down the hawk #the raven cycle #catholicism I guess #Anonymous #the dreamer trilogy #trc meta

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