#FUCK THERESA MAY

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

To all the Americans worrying that Kamala won’t be a good first female president, don’t worry it can’t be any worse than the UK’s three attempts

[qqueenofhades]

Also, the idea that we might not (WON'T) have to compromise on getting our first female president by her being a conservative republican 😍

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

[x]

Can we go back to the fields of wheat? Do you guys remember running through the fields of wheat? I miss the fields of wheat.

[positively-bi]

Using fatphobic insults does not suddenly become okay when the target of your insults is a bad person.

Using ableist insults does not suddenly become okay when the target of your insults is a bad person.

Using anti-Semitic insults does not suddenly become okay when the target of your insults is a bad person.

Using sexist insults does not suddenly become okay when the target of your insults is a bad person.

You can insult a person or talk about their negative attributes without resorting to harmful language.

[idkummok]

Or something…in my defence, I have covid and a free trial to Picsart…

[comraderoscoes]

hot take not hot take mild take even but i hate how the memefication of politicians always ends with people conveniently forgetting they’re a terrible person

[declanisms]

theresa may somehow being the best prime minister the uk’s had in over a decade is insane. abject insanity. why can’t tories act like somewhat normal human beings anymore

[inky-duchess]

Writing Characters with Glasses

Glasses are one of those components in writing that one just knows whether the writer has any experience with or not from the offset. So how do we write glasses-wearing characters or characters with impaired vision?

What is your character's eye strength?

Now, you don't have to know your character's exact diagnoses but you should know what sightedness your character has. Near-sighted means your character has trouble seeing things far way but can see things up close. Far-sightedness means a character can see things better in the distance than they can in before them.

Typically, one eye can be weaker or stronger than another, so a lense may be slightly thicker or slimmer than the other. Myself, my left eye is much weaker than my right.

Wearing Glasses

Typically when you wear glasses, you start to ignore the frames in your peripheral vision, however if you may notice it more if you haven't been wearing your glasses for a while.

Also when you change lenses, your sight is funny for a while. Things, like the fucking ground itself, seem a lot closer which can lead you to feel very disoriented. Its best to break glasses in gradually, in the words of Our Lady, Theresa Manion, "Do not make unnecessary journeys, do not take risks on treacherous roads..."

Glasses can get dirty and smudged very easily and do require cleaning. You may often see somebody wipe their glasses with their shirt tail but this isn't always effective, some fabrics just worsen the issue. Dry tissue paper is the best or a glass cloth. Frames also should be cleaned too.

Glasses tend to fog up when it rains, when you sweat or when you're somewhere steamy or drinking/eating something really hot. It can be a nuisance but it usually won't impair your vision that much.

Glasses can strain your eyes and start to chafe after a while. Long periods of wearing glasses can make your eyes start to ache (it always happens to me) and the best thing to do is just remove them and rest your eyes. The frames can also rub against the tops of your ears or the bridge of your nose.

People who need glasses tend not to remove them very often. If your vision is very bad, you won't be whipping your glasses off at every opportunity like Horatio Caine. If you only need reading glasses or need glasses for specific tasks you, wouldn't wear them 24/7 as it can further damage your eyes (I did this and now I can barely see 4ft ahead of me).

You can do tasks without your glasses but you do feel more cautious, especially if you have difficulty making out details. Glasses usually make you more comfortable in situations.

And as for the whole pushing up glasses when they slip (and they do slip but gradually), there's no right way or wrong way. Personally, I adjust by moving the entire frame between my thumb and forefinger so I don't smudge the lense. But pushing it up by the bar that crosses your nose is also effective.

When you're not wearing glasses

Not wearing glasses isn't delibiltating if your character's sight isn't majorly mad. As I mentioned before, they can still carry out tasks. But not wearing glasses can leave you a little unsure and sometimes disoriented.

Most people can still see without glasses, things just aren't as focused. For me, things get very fuzzy especially if they are far away but I can still make out the shape - for example, I can see how many fingers you're holding up but not your ring. I can do a lot of tasks without glasses.

When you're not wearing your glasses, you do tend to squint which can help you see a little better or tend to lift things to your eyes to see them better.

Characters wearing glasses

If your character loses their glasses in a fight, they won't be unable to fight back. They can likely still see some things.

Glasses hurt when knocked from your face, you can cut or bruise from a blow to the glasses. (it's happened to me which is why I have a massive scar on my forehead).

Your character will likely dislike going to the optician. Getting your eyes looked into by a stranger with a torch is irritating. Buying new glasses is a long drawn out hellish experience.

Breaking your glasses will upset your character, mainly because they're expensive. A character may opt to get the glasses fixed instead of replaced.

Your character will keep their glasses near at all times. Sleeping, they will be in reach. In the shower, they will be somewhere close by. Glasses may your more confident in your ability so they will always be near.

Also your character will likely not store their glasses in a pocket (they can break) or on their heads (your hair can smudge the lenses).

If your character has one of those early 2000s rom-com moments where their glasses are removed so the world can see their "true beauty", yeah that isn't a thing. Now that person can't fucking see.

Also, your character will likely hate anybody grabbing their glasses or wanting to try them on.

[officeshelpdesk]

In celebration of the end of nearly 15 years of conservative rule in the UK I thought I'd post my favorite images of conservative MPs from the past decade and a half (along with some non pm bonuses)

David Cameron and His Lover

Theresa May is Utterly Horrified by Child's Robot

Theresa May Cries as She Resigns

As Mayor of London, Boris Johnson Gets Stuck on a Zipline

Boris Johnson Absolutely Dominates Children at Rugby

Whatever the Fuck is Happening Here

Liz Truss Being PM for the Queen's Funeral Despite Also Having the Shortest Tenure

Liz Truss' Day Collar

Rishi Sunak Asks Homeless Man If He's "In Business"

POV: You Just Said That Normal Families Having To Rely on Food Banks is Bad

[lanaevyssmoved]

"On 2 November 1917, British Foreign Secretary Arthur Balfour sent a letter to Lord Walter Rothschild, a prominent Zionist, which became known as the Balfour Declaration.

In it, the British government promised Palestine to the Zionists - and did so without consulting Palestinians, British Jews, or the wider British population. While Palestinian Arabs at the time made up 90 per cent of the territory's 700,000 population, they were bizarrely only referred to as "existing non-Jewish communities". The letter also said "that nothing should be done to prejudice" their "civil and religious rights".

The declaration had a catastrophic impact on the Palestinians. It eventually led to the creation of Israel in 1948, during which Palestinians were driven from their homes, mostly through Jewish acts of terror.

The least the Palestinians might expect on the 100th anniversary from the British would be some remorse and an apology. But Theresa May's government has not only refused to apologise on behalf of the UK, it is also planning to "mark it with pride" as she told the pro-Israel lobby group Conservative Friends of Israel in December 2016.

This week she will be joined in London by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu as they mark the centenary alongside pro-Israel groups.

Britain had no right to offer Palestine to the Zionists. The claim that Jews have a perpetual right to live there is rejected by Palestinians. Do all Muslims have a right to "return" to Saudi Arabia? And what about a Christian "right of return" to Palestine? Israel is seen as a democracy by its supporters - but many others see it as a colonialist settler state."

X

"On 15 May 1948, Britain gave up her mandate. The British Army departed from Palestine leaving the Jews and the Arabs to fight it out in the war that followed."

and the soldiers who left were given medals, with a brand new clasp for their service in palestine. good fucking job, guys

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in December 2024 🌈

Find these books and more here.

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Sugar-Coated Kisses - Echo Lark 🧡 Christmas at Watson Memorial - Clara Ann Simons 💛 Warm-Blooded - J Greene 💚 It Takes Three To Tango - Jem Wendel 💙 The Black Curse - N.A. Moore 💜 Heavenly Tyrant - Xiran Jay Zhao ❤️ Encrypted Hearts - E.V. Bancroft 🧡 Dangerous Devotion - Robin Jo Margaret 💛 Sew in Love - Rhea Fox 💙 Saint - Chani Lynn Feener 💜 Her Ladyship's Christmas Companion - Theresa Meiningen 🌈 A Sky of Emerald Stars - A.K. Mulford

❤️ Inked in Blood and Memory - Allison Ivy 🧡 The Key - Jo Morgan Sloan 💛 Home Between Homes - Flynn Woods 💚 A Kiss for the Holidays - C.S. Autumn 💙 Loving the Linebacker - Amaya Knight 💜 Close to Home - Allisa Bahney ❤️ Christmas Shelter - Eva Gonzay & Julia C. Brown 🧡 This Isn't Everything You Are - J. Marie Rundquist 💛 Keep It in the Dark - Justin Arnold 💙 Santa & His Elf - Bink Cummings 💜 On the Subject of Kittens and Mittens - Katie Silverwings 🌈 Winter's Whisper - M Bonneau

❤️ Boyfriends - refrainbow 🧡 Innis Harbor - Patricia Evans 💛 A Complementary Connection - Eskay Kabba 💚 Point of Sighs - Melissa Scott 💙 Bind You by Blood - Shepard DiStasio 💜 The Resurrectionist - A. Rae Dunlap ❤️ Fractured Dreamer - A.K. Adler 🧡 The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou 💛 Becoming Disabled - Jan Doolittle Wilson 💙 A Caress of Water - Nico Silver 💜 How to Survive As a Villain 1 - Yi Yi Yi Yi 🌈 The Silent Concubine - Qiang Tang

❤️ Hadrian - Harlowe Savage 🧡 A Series of Rooms - A.J. Barlowe 💛 Inklings of Invisibility - S.L. Dove Cooper 💚 The Cobbler and His Elves - C.B. Wren 💙 A Nightclub for the Holidays - Arden Coutts 💜 Armor of Dusk - Jess Galaxie ❤️ Twisted Shadows - Allie Therin 🧡 A Deception of Courts - Ben Alderson 💛 Trial Run - Carsen Taite 💙 How to Flirt with a Witch - Tiana Warner 💜 Roughed Up - Kate Hawthorne 🌈 House of Crimson Curses - Ruby Roe

❤️ Sister Snake - Amanda Lee Koe 🧡 Roland Rogers Isn't Dead Yet - Samantha Allen 💛 The Rivals - Jane Pek 💚 Private Rites - Julia Armfield 💙 The Christmas Switch - Briar Prescott 💜 Ribbonwood - Ruby Landers ❤️ Shifting Lanes - Joanne Kwan 🧡 Twice-Spent Comet - Ziggy Schutz 💛 A Crush for the Holidays - E.L. Ough 💙 Resist - Lasairiona Lewis 💜 Free from Falling - E.L. Massey 🌈 The Legendary Master's Wife - Yin Ya

❤️ Tide Breaker's Curse - Ivy H. Marikova 🧡 Twist Her - Terri Ronald 💛 How to Fuck Like a Girl - Vera Blossom 💚 Dog Days of Christmas - Krystal Wolfgang & Kimberly Wolfgang 💙 Warmer, Colder - Alexia Onyx 💜 Salt in the Wind - Jenna Pine ❤️ What We Carry With Us - Joseff McKenneth Goodwin 🧡 Reinvention - Karol Yan 💛 Christmas Carols - Maxime Jaz 💙 I'm Not Your Pet - Fae Quin 💜 Something Extraordinary - Alexis Hall 🌈 I Might Be in Trouble - Daniel Aleman

❤️ Deck the Palms - Annabeth Albert 🧡 Don't Get It Twisted - Wren Taylor 💛 Ice & Sweet - Charlie Novak 💚 Speak EZ - Elle E. Ire 💙 The Disabled Tyrant's Beloved Pet Fish - Xue Shan Fei Hu 💜 Horns For Hell - Rafael Nicolás ❤️ Flamboyant Fictions - Ian Fleishman 🧡 Where the Heart Is - Jenni Simonis 💛 Sorry I Kissed Your Dad - Achilles King 💙 Merry Weihnachten - E.J. Noyes 💜 An Alpha for the Holidays - Emily Axon 🌈 The Blessed - Anne Shade

❤️ Our Sinful Love - Amy H. 🧡 Gambler's Conceit - Adara Wolf & R. Phoenix 💛 Fate and Flambe - Leena Metcalfe 💚 Figure You Out - Hannah Danielle & K.F. Starfell 💙 Amaranthine - Aricka Alexander 💜 Twisted Loyalties - Barbara J. Webb ❤️ Echoes of Us - Alex Cross 🧡 The Shadowbearer's Curse - Jasmyn Morning 💛 Too Many Beds - Various 💙 We Are the Beasts - Gigi Griffis 💜 Unspoken - N.N. Britt 🌈 Rainbows After Storms - Luka Kobachi

❤️ The Shutouts - Gabrielle Korn 🧡 Robin's Worlds - Rainie Oet & Mathias Ball 💛 What the Woods Took - Courtney Gould 💚 Rescue Me - N. Slater 💙 Seb & Ailin - Michele Notaro 💜 The International Love Story - Jonas Noelting ❤️ Waterlogged - Nance Sparks 🧡 The Guardians - Sheri Lewis Wohl 💛 The Changeling's Faerie Prince - K.D. Ellis 💙 Until at Dawn We Wake - Charlotte Dalwood 💜 How to Get a Life in Ten Dates - Jenny L. Howe 🌈 Hammajang Luck - Makana Yamamoto

❤️ The Rules of Royalty - Cale Dietrich 🧡 Tired of Waiting for Tomorrow - Allison K. Garcia 💛 One Last Run - Bryce Oakley 💚 Reckless Hearts - Jax Calder 💙 Christmissed - Blythe H. Warren 💜 How Could You - Ren Strapp ❤️ Blackened - Tyler Briggs 🧡 Gratification in Gluttony - Nik Knight 💛 The Mogul Meets Her Match - Julia Underwood 💙 How to Be Heard - Roxane Gay 💜 The Case of the Missing Maid - Rob Osler 🌈 Shades of Us - D.L. Sims

[toaarcan]

I need the anti-voting crowd to understand that not voting isn't going to cause the Democrats to take a long, hard, look in the mirror and suddenly decide that they need to swing left to appeal to more leftists.

When these centre-left parties lose, they get more centrist. They try to broaden their appeal and make themselves as appealing to as many people as possible.

The example I'll point to is my local centre-left party, Labour, who are currently poised on the brink of one of the largest victories they've ever had. By the time you read this, it may have already happened, election day is today.

Labour have been drifting rightwards on several fronts for a while now. One of the biggest examples of this was the 1997 elections. After repeatedly failing to defeat Margaret Thatcher and then subsequently losing once to John Major, Tony Blair became the new leader of the party, and reinvented it as New Labour, adopting a much more neoliberal economic approach and promptly got a historic victory.

Now there are a lot of reasons why Blair won as hard as he did, and I don't have time to break them all down, but at the end of the day, their adoption of neoliberal economic policies worked out enormously for them. Not only did Blair romp to victory, he maintained most of his popularity afterwards, reigning for an entire decade before finally stepping down in 2007.

Labour is also a handy demonstrator of why they don't lean leftwards after a defeat, because they actually did try that and it failed spectacularly.

After Ed "Wrong Milliband, wrong Ed" Milliband's dismal performance in the 2015 election, Labour actually decided to try and lean leftwards again, and selected Jeremy Corbyn as their leader.

Unfortunately, Corbyn was useless. Many a Brit will accuse him of not even actually wanting to be Prime Minister, instead just wanting to sit opposite an actual PM and oppose them. They're probably right.

The 2017 snap election, called by Theresa May, should've been an open goal. May was embattled largely by her own party, many of whom were strongly opposed to her attempt at a moderate Brexit deal. She was an unelected PM, chosen by internal party mechanisms after David "Bae of Pigs" Cameron fucked off post-Brexit disaster. The massive, and ever-growing pro-EU voting block were entirely unrepresented. The Liberal Democrats, normally a bit of a thorn in Labour's side in terms of hoovering up more left-wing votes, were still trying to recover from the massive hit in popularity they took after the disasterous Tory-Lib Dem coalition. Blood in the water for any left-wing party worth its salt.

Yeah so Corbyn fucked it up and lost. While May only ended up weakening her position, losing 13 seats and dropping below a majority, the Tories still got their largest vote share since the 80s and held onto power for grim death.

Corbyn stuck around, still didn't get any better, and promptly lost the 2019 election in a landslide. To this guy.

People didn't vote for Corbyn. In the media, he was pilloried as a communist and an antisemite (and he did such a terrible job of fighting that second one that to this day I still have no idea whether it was true or just a smear campaign), and his determination to take the high road only made him look weak and avoidant to the public. His policies got little attention and his campaigning was likely deliberately weak, shooting for the role of opposition rather than government.

It also didn't help that the people for whom Labour wasn't Left Wing Enough still didn't turn out. They still voted Green or didn't vote at all.

To the party itself, though, the message was clear. They'd gone leftward, and it had backfired spectacularly.

Corbyn promptly fucked off at long last and was replaced by Starmer, who is, as expected, another milquetoast neoliberal in most regards. And now, with the polls open for the 2024 election, and Starmer projected to win by such a massive margin that the term "Supermajority" has been thrown around like it's an inevitability, Labour has been engaging in what's been called a "purge" of its leftmost members, with most of Corbyn's base, including Corbyn himself, being barred from running as Labour candidates and instead having to run as independents.

Now, that might horrify you as a leftist, but to them, it's a course-correction. Corbyn and co. represent an era of failure for the party, where a leftward lean cost them two elections.

To swing back around to American politics, if the Democrats lose because of voter apathy, they aren't going to take it as a sign that they need to appeal to the left. They're going to take it as a sign that their appeal wasn't broad enough and they need more outreach to right-wingers.

They already lost in part due to voter apathy in 2016, they didn't move left to compensate. They found the Most Neoliberal Average Establishment Guy they could, rallied behind him, and it partially paid off for them. They at least won.

You want a more leftist Democrat party? Not voting isn't going to get you that. In fact, it will most likely have the exact opposite effect.

[joelalorian]

Fevered Flame

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Summary: When Marcus Pike lost himself in work after that debacle with Theresa, he didn’t expect to take on a sizzling new case in the quirky town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Nor did he expect to meet you, an up-and-coming agent also looking for a fresh start. An unprecedented heatwave, mind-boggling art thefts, ancient Aztec legends, this case had the works. How would he ever solve the case with the temperature rising between you both?

This fic is my contribution to @iamasaddie's Little Lady Kinky May writing challenge. Prompts were Marcus Pike and Temperature. This is my first time writing Marcus Pike and I hope I did him justice. I learned a few things about myself during this process, the most important being that I am incapable of writing porn without plot, or a romantic angle, apparently. This story turned out waaaaay different than intended because of that. I apologize now for the plot heaviness between sexy bits.

WC: 10.4k – I’m sorry, I have no idea where all these words came from

Warnings: Explicit 18+, too much plot, heat making people cray cray, sexy sweatiness, lots of cursing (I’m from New Jersey, I can’t help it), nonsensical crime stuff, a plot that came straight outta left field, protected and unprotected sex (p in v), pussy eating and cock sucking, inappropriate use of an ice cube and hot springs. No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname and boobs, otherwise, I tried to keep her a blank slate. Some terms of endearment. IDK, there’s probably more but I can’t think right now.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this utter ridiculousness. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Moodboard by me.

Masterlist

Still reeling from the aftermath of Theresa Lisbon choosing that pontificating windbag Patrick Jane over him nearly a year ago, Marcus Pike buried himself in work. The transition from Texas to DC and adapting to leading a whole new team took his mind of his misery. However, the lonely nights in his new home, the one purchased with hopes of building a life with Theresa in mind, were untenable and he took on more fieldwork than someone at the director level typically would. Hence why Marcus found himself driving through the desert to some quirky small town in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences.

What the fuck kind of name was that for a town, he wondered idly as his right hand pumped the rental car’s AC to full blast. Having already stripped off his suit jacket and tie, Marcus sweat clear through his lavender dress shirt within minutes. The heat was ungodly. Surely it couldn’t be normal. How could people live like that?

Eyes scanning the dashboard display of the mid-size SUV the agency rented for him, they nearly bugged out of his head at the temperature reading. Lit up in glaring red, the numbers 121°F taunted him as sweat dripped down his temples.

Jesus Christ. Death Valley had nothing on this place.

Marcus steered the vehicle toward his hotel, opting to change into something a little more suitable for the local climate before checking in with the agent representing the local field office. The FBI put him up in a supposedly nice hotel, though he didn’t have high expectations of what that meant in a town like this. As long as the AC worked, he’d survive.

Thirty minutes later, Marcus took his second shower of the day, this one much colder than the last, and jumped back into the SUV in an outfit more typical of a golf outing than an FBI investigation. It was the best he could do with what he packed. The local agent texted him the address of an art gallery, the first in a series of apparent crime scenes, and he plugged the address into the GPS.

Normally, you didn’t mind the heat, preferring that to cold winters, but this current heatwave was beyond ridiculous. You sweat just by simply existing. You never experienced anything like it in the five years you’d been stationed in Albuquerque, and you suddenly found yourself longing for the bone-deep cold of a northeastern winter as you waited for the DC agent to arrive.

The chilling sea breeze of a New Jersey winter sounded like heaven right now.

A sleek silver SUV pulled up next to your government-issued sedan and you watched with an assessing gaze from the driver’s seat as Director Marcus Pike exited the vehicle clad in khaki shorts and a turquoise polo, trendy aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes from the glare of the desert sun. His dark brown hair was short and styled back off his forehead, and a neatly trimmed scruff lined his top lip and jaw.

You knew from a quick glance at his FBI profile that he was a decorated agent, but his government photo did not do him justice. The man was fucking gorgeous in person. Exiting your own vehicle before he caught you staring, you introduced yourself.

He flashed you a smile full of boyish charm when you gave him your name, causing your heart to thump double time. “You can just call me Jersey, everyone else does,” you finished, holding your hand out to shake his.

“Marcus Pike, Director of the Art Crimes Squad in DC,” he replied, his larger hand engulfing yours in a firm, yet not overbearing, shake. “Just call me Marcus.”

The two of you gazed at each other, the sun beating down on you both like laser beams. Holy fuck, Marcus was even hotter up close. Yeah, his FBI file photo did not do him any justice at all. Not wanting to make things uncomfortable by staring too long, you gestured toward the door to the gallery.

“Shall we?”

Marcus cleared his throat and nodded, following behind you as you strolled casually through the entrance. “Wanna give me a rundown of what we know so far?”

“Sure,” you replied. “We’ve had paintings stolen from several galleries in town. Despite its odd name and small-town status, Truth or Consequences has a rather robust art scene. Lots of expensive art showcased in these galleries.”

Marcus nodded as you gave him some background. He likely read most of this in the file on his flight out here, but you could appreciate the necessity of running over it again verbally. Repetition was the mother of… whatever the fuck that saying was. Your brain was already too fried from the heat.

“The thefts started almost a week ago, not too long after the start of the extreme heatwave this area is currently experiencing. There has been one painting taken every other day so far, always at the peak heat of the day when the townsfolk are too overheated and tired to pay much attention. No eyewitnesses and the thief artfully avoided any surveillance or security cameras so far.”

You watched Marcus jot down some notes, tapping the end of his pen against the small notepad as he reviewed the information.

“So, three paintings taken so far, and it’s still early in the day. I’m guessing we can expect another theft today?” You nodded and Marcus tapped the pen against his bottom lip this time, causing you to avert your gaze before he caught you ogling the plump flesh.

“Have there been any patterns identified?”

You could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Just in the types of paintings taken so far. They all depict scenes of cool, serene landscapes.”

Dark brown eyes held your gaze. “So, the exact opposite of the current weather situation.”

Again, you nodded. “That’s the only pattern so far. We haven’t been able to determine any order to the galleries hit and, unfortunately, this town doesn’t have the law enforcement manpower to guard all of the galleries and still attend to their normal duties. We do have unis posted at the galleries that haven’t been hit yet, just in case. That’s the best the townies could do though.”

Humming in thought, Marcus walked around the gallery, causing you to scramble to keep up. It was fascinating watching his mind work, his big, brown eyes taking in every minute detail around him. When he stopped in front of the empty spot marking the first stolen painting’s former home, you paused next to him, debating on sharing the only other piece of information you had so far.

“There’s, uh, something strange that may or may not be related to this case.” That got Marcus’ attention and his eyes shot to you once again, brow arched curiously.

“Do tell,” he replied with an encouraging smile. You blinked slowly, trying in vain to maintain your concentration in front of such a handsome man.

“I will on the way to the other galleries. Just… just promise to hold judgment until I finish telling you everything. It’s a little… unorthodox compared to what we’re used, I’d say.” You led the way back to your car, gesturing for Marcus to get in on the passenger side. It made more sense to ride together. Thankfully, you left it running while inside the gallery, making the interior still nice and cool.

Once seated, his head cocked to the side endearingly, the tilt of his lips bordering on an indulgent smile. “Ok, I promise.” The cadence and depth of his soft-spoken voice set you aflame and you had to practically shake yourself to not fall to your knees in praise of this man.

Jesus Christ, Jersey, have a modicum of professionalism and self-respect, will ya, your inner monologue chided. Your libido hyperfixated on the veritable stud before you whether you wanted it to or not. It’d been too long since your last tumble in the sheets, apparently. Recentering your focus, you pulled out onto the main road heading to the next crime scene.

“Good,” you croaked. Feeling the heat creep up your already overheated flesh, you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you can tell, the weather here is ungodly hot – hard to miss it. This is not entirely normal, from what I understand. It’s tempting to chalk it up to climate change, except for one strange thing. Drive twenty or thirty minutes outside of town and the temps are far lower, though still hot by some standards. The temps within the surrounding towns are in line with the more normal averages.”

Brows furrowed, Marcus’ dark eyes searched your face, clearly looking for more context clues. “The heat certainly seemed excessive on the ride over from the municipal airport. I had to stop at the hotel and change or I would have melted to the pavement in my suit.”

You chuckled. “I know the feeling. The average temperature here is supposed to be in the low 90s this time of year, not thirty degrees higher. And the usually cooler desert nights haven’t existed for the past couple of weeks. It’s very strange.”

“And it’s just this town, you say?”

Pulling to a stop in front of the next gallery, you nodded. “Strange, right?”

“Very,” Marcus replied, deep in thought as he followed you inside.

It carried on like that the rest of the afternoon until the heat became just too much after checking out the last crime scene. Like everyone else in town, you sought refuge in the coolest place you could find, which happened to be a hole-in-the-wall pub just off the main street.

Just when Marcus thought things couldn’t get weirder with this town, you led him into a dark and dingy little pub, settling right up to the aged bar. If you weren’t a certified agency employee, he would be terrified that you were luring him to his untimely death.

As it was, the scraggly old barkeep gave him the creeps when he shuffled over, eyeing the pair of you with the same attention he would three-headed aliens. “Coldest beer in town. Two pints?” The man’s voice as rough as he looked, he didn’t wait for an answer.

Marcus shot you a look, eyes wide and uncertain, but you merely shrugged in return. He didn’t normally drink on the job, but between the heat and the early start for traveling, Marcus decided his day was finished. He chugged at the frosty draft when the barkeep placed it in front of him. The old man was right, the pint glass was frozen and small chunks of ice floated in the foamy beer.

“Damn, that’s good,” he nearly moaned, feeling refreshed.

“I know, right?” you replied, nearly half done with your own pint. “I don’t normally like beer, but I could drink it all day long when it’s ice cold like this. Especially in this heat, you know?”

The first round went down easily, and quickly, and the old barkeep, whose name turned out to be Harry, placed another round down before Marcus even thought to ask. The pair of you settled into easy conversation, getting to know each other outside of the job. The more you drank, the more your Jersey accent started to peak through. He found it cute and kept asking you questions just to keep hearing you talk.

Soon enough, any thought left in his mind about Theresa evaporated. How could he still think about his ex-fiancé when a hot, smart, sweet little thing like you sat before him, chatting, and flirting away the evening. Theresa had nothing on you.

It took exactly a fraction of a second to be struck by your beauty that morning. Confident and intelligent, not mention damn good at your job, he quickly realized your natural beauty served as icing on the cake. You were the entire package, and he was trying his damnedest to not charge ahead trying to get you into bed.

Turned out you both had similar relationship history, married too young and divorced, no kids, longed for a dog if only your job didn’t call you away so often. You were practically the female version of him, Marcus thought. It made him all the more curious about you.

Before long, you both ordered some bar grub and went back to talking about the case. Neither of you could make sense of what you had so far. There were vital pieces of the puzzle missing, that much was apparent.

Harry unceremoniously dropped plates full of burgers and fries in front of you, not even trying to hide the fact that he eavesdropped on your conversation.

“You think your case has something to do with the heat?” the old man questioned, leaning heavily on the bar top.

You and Marcus shared a look before you nodded.

“There’s some local lore you might find interesting, then,” Harry said, pausing for dramatic effect and you gestured for him to continue. “Well, as the legends go, the Flame of Quetzalcoatl was hidden somewhere in town centuries ago. They say it was a gem gifted by the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl himself, but who the recipient was no one knows. The gem is said to hold the power of the sun and the wielder of it has the ability to control heat.”

You and Marcus sat there in silence, absorbing the tale Harry just shared. After a few minutes, Marcus glanced at you, doubt clear in his expression.

“This town just gets fuckin’ weirder by the minute, I swear,” he said, sipping at his pint once again. “I might actually believe that little story if I was a few more beers in.”

You laughed, but your face didn’t hold the same doubt as his. “I don’t know, Marcus. If living out here for the past few years has taught me anything, it’s that these Aztec legends are often too close to the truth to blow off.”

Harry harrumphed. “I’d say so, little lady.”

“Besides, it’s the best we’ve got right now,” you said, nudging Marcus’ shoulder with yours. “Couldn’t hurt to play that angle until a better lead pops up.”

Marcus found himself agreeing, much to his surprise.

Over the next few days, you and Marcus researched as much as possible about local lore related to Aztecs, searching for any hint of what Harry told you. In that time, three more paintings were stolen. The thief started leaving little clues as if to goad law enforcement.

The first cryptic clue further convinced you of the potential voracity of the Aztec legend. Written in drip red paint in the spot where the fourth painting had been located, Marcus suspected the thief meant it to look like blood.

When the feathered serpent sheds its skin, the heat will rise.

“Holy shit,” you gasped when you first read it. Turning to Marcus, you declared, “Quetzalcoatl was known as the Feathered Serpent.”

His dark brown eyes widened, meeting yours in shock. “No way.”

You nodded, flipping through your notepad to find your most recent notes on the case. “Yes way. That book we borrowed from the Historical Society talked about it. Remember?”

Marcus nodded slowly as the information came back to him, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of this completely bizarre case. “Didn’t the book say something about Quetzalcoatl being a signal of transformation? Think the clue has something to do with that?”

“Yeah, could be.”

The pattern continued the next day with another clue left behind.

Where the earth boils and the water steams, the gem of the sun awaits.

The pair of you debated the meaning of the second clue over cold beer at Harry’s pub. As the case evolved, so did the connection between you and Marcus. You both flirted unashamedly when you weren’t talking about the case. It turned out the agency put you both up at the same hotel – your rooms on the same floor even. You were beginning to hope that he would make a move, yet completely terrified of that happening at the same time.

Despite your best efforts, the thief remained one step ahead of law enforcement, somehow managing to steal from galleries you had actively guarded. How in the world was this guy doing it?

Things were slowly coming together once a third clue was discovered.

Seek the place where fire and water dance, and there you will find the sun’s heart.

Without a local FBI office to work out of – the Albuquerque one you worked out of was over two hours away – you’d decided to setup camp in a quiet booth at Harry’s. He kept you full on pub grub and refreshments – soda and water during work hours, of course – and chipped in with his local knowledge whenever he thought it needed.

In fact, it was Harry who guided you toward understanding the latest clues.

“Have you two heard about the hot springs? This town is famous for them.” The old man dropped the nugget of knowledge along with a plate of fries and shuffled away, leaving the two of you to stare after him.

Marcus turned to you; his lips pursed in thought. You ached to nibble on the plump flesh of his bottom lip, to feel the gentle scratch of his facial hair against your soft skin as you did so.

“Where the earth boils and the water streams,” Marcus recalled the second clue in that delicious, soft-spoken voice of his, sending a wave of gooseflesh over your skin. “Seek the place where fire and water dance.”

Shaking your head free of naughty thoughts, you focused on the clues and the knowledge bomb Harry dropped, picking right up on Marcus’ thought process. “Fire, heat, and water... The hot springs!”

Marcus beamed at you; eyes sparkling as he came to the same realization. “It has to be. Makes sense, right?”

“Sure does,” you agreed, grinning back at him. “But there must be a ton of them. How would we ever find the right one?”

Sitting back in his seat, Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll have to keep digging. Do you still have that book from the Historical Society? Maybe there’s something else in there to help us.”

“It’s back in my room,” you reply. “Fancy ordering room service at the hotel while we go over the clues again?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What was he thinking, agreeing to go back to your room to continue working on the case.

An unwitting temptress already, how was he supposed to control himself when you invited him into your room for dinner, drinks, and after-hours casework?

In the already excessive desert heat, Marcus was sweating bullets as he followed you into your room, conveniently located only a few doors down from his own.

“I have a bottle of cab, is that good?” you questioned, kicking off your shoes with a sigh before reaching for the screw cap bottle.

Audibly gulping, Marcus squeaked out an assent and wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts. He glanced around the room to distract himself, noting happily that you were a tidy traveler, much like himself.

“I have bottled water as well. Would you like one?” Marcus nodded. With an indulgent smile, you held out the small ice bucket. “I like mine over ice. Would you mind?”

Eager for a moment to clear his head, Marcus grabbed the bucket. “No problem.” The echo of your chuckle followed him as he rushed out the door.

“What is wrong with you, dude?” he whispered to himself as he strolled down the hall to the ice machine. “You don’t even know if this woman wants anything more than just reviewing the case. Calm the fuck down.”

Feeling a little calmer and more under control after his private pep talk, Marcus knocked on your door with the full ice bucket in hand. You let him in with a broad smile that nearly made his heart stop.

“Perfect.” Plucking the bucket from his hands, you returned to the makeshift kitchenette area to fill two cups with ice and water. Two glasses of cabernet were already sitting on the tiny table in the small designated sitting area of the hotel room.

Marcus joined you on the couch, case file in hand, seated close due to the limited space. You dove right in to discussing the case, easing his nerves. The pair of you compared the facts of the case, debating theories and potential connections. Without any physical evidence, you still didn’t have any viable suspects, which was incredibly frustrating for both of you.

“I’ve never had a case like this,” Marcus said. “It’s hard to believe that this could all relate to a myth about an ancient god. It feels weird even saying that aloud.”

“I know. It’s giving me Twilight Zone vibes.”

With the lack of viable suspects serving as a brick wall in furthering the investigation, conversation switched to other topics.

“You’re from New Jersey?” Marcus asked. “What brought you out here?”

“Yep, born and raised at the Jersey Shore,” you replied, that northeastern accent peeking through as you drank more wine. “Classic reason for relocating – I followed a guy, the one I told you a little about. We got married young and one day he woke up and decided he wanted a change of scenery. I followed along without argument, and we wound up out here. Biggest mistake of my life.”

“Ahh,” he said with a nod. “That asshole.”

“Yeah, that asshole.”

From what you told Marcus about your ex-husband, he knew the guy was a real piece of work. Classic narcissist who beat you down emotionally the entire time you were together. Marcus was happy that you kicked the guy to the curb two years ago and the divorce finalized last year. No one deserved to be treated like that, especially you.

“Are you going to stick around here now that’s all over with?” He found himself curious about your future plans.

Shaking your head, you laughed. “Hell no. I put in for a transfer already, for anywhere on the east coast closer to home. I’m no picky.”

Marcus perked up at that. The DC headquarters always had openings. He’d get to see you again if you were transferred there. “I could put in a good word for you, if you’d like. You’re a great agent from what I’ve seen so far.”

Ducking your head bashfully, you peeked at him through your lashes. “That’s pretty high praise coming from a director,” you deflected.

“I mean it, Jersey.” He kept his voice low, using your nickname for the first time, and watched in delight as you shuddered.

The air in the room shifted, sexual tension thick and nearly overpowering. Marcus watched as your pupils dilated, lust overtaking the previous sparkle. He gulped when your tongue darted out to lick your lips tantalizingly.

Shifting ever so closer, your scent washed over him. You smelled fucking delicious, hints of cocoa butter and salty sweat, reminding him of the beach. His shorts suddenly became tighter, his cock twitching to life. He wanted to devour you.

The next thing Marcus knew, your lips were pressed to his as you basically ripped the clothes from each other’s bodies, the now empty bottle of wine knocked from the table to the carpeted floor in the process. Despite the cool air pumping from the air conditioning, your skin felt hot to his touch.

Licking into your mouth, savoring the taste of you mixed with the bite of wine on your tongue, Marcus steered you backwards until your hamstrings bumped against the mattress. He eased you down onto the bed, detaching his lips from yours to take in the electrifying sight of your naked body splayed before him.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his fingertips tracing down your smooth skin slowly, teasingly from your neck to your toes.

Your eyes, blown wide with need, burned into his before dipping down to take in his naked body with a gasp. His cock bobbed eagerly as you stared.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Marcus said, his soft voice filled with awe, matching the wonder in his eyes.

“Me either,” you replied, “but I’m happy it is. You are so fucking gorgeous, Marcus.”

Marcus couldn’t help the blush that pinkened his cheeks. Reaching behind him to the bucket, he plucked a large ice cube from the slowly melting pile. His eyes remained locked on yours as he popped the frozen cube into his mouth, sucking lightly before his tongue pushed forward and his lips puckered as a portion of the ice cube stuck out.

The breath left you when he dipped his head down to run the cube along your clavicle and down across your breasts. Your nipples pebbled beneath the chilly wetness as Marcus directed the ice cube back and forth a few times. He watched delightedly as goosebumps peppered your skin when he moved the cube down your belly in a zigzag pattern.

“Oh, fuck.” Your chest heaved and fingers tightened their grip on the bedsheets when Marcus dipped further down, running the quickly melting cube over your mound and through your slit. The cold nearly shocking to the overwhelming heat of your labia.

Using his tongue to increase the pressure, Marcus circled the ice cube over your clit until you cried out, one hand loosening its grip on the sheets to tangle your fingers in his thick hair. He shifted, plunging the cube into your entrance, pushing as far as his tongue would extend, then leant back to watch your pussy suck the cube further until in melted into mere dribbles of water.

You laid there panting, eyes hooded and wanting, as Marcus dove back in, using his tongue to continue the work he started with the ice cube. He lapped and sucked at your clit, two thick fingers slipping inside you, until you became a blubbering mess, blurting out unintelligible words and moans, finally falling apart beneath his ministrations.

Marcus slurped at the evidence of your long overdue release, savoring the sweet, tangy taste of you. His hips thrust against the mattress of their own accord, his body seeking any sort of friction against his aching cock it could find.

“Your mouth is a lethal weapon, Marcus,” you said breathlessly, hands reaching under his shoulders to drag him up your body. “Now let’s see what you can do with your cock.”

His hair flopped forward over his forehead from your fingers tangling in it and he grinned in satisfaction at your comment. His boyish charm proved too much to handle, and you yanked his face down to yours, tongues tangling in a scorching kiss. You nibbled on his plump bottom lip between fervent kisses, savoring the plushness between your teeth.

Whining when he pulled away suddenly, your fingers grasping for purchase to pull him back, Marcus winked at you when he slid off the bed. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m coming right back.”

Digging in his shorts to find his wallet, Marcus pulled out a long-forgotten condom from the tri-fold leather and checked the date on the foil packaging to make sure it hadn’t expired. Content with the remaining half-life, he ripped the package open with his teeth and slid the latex material over his cock.

You beamed at him when he climbed back onto the bed. “I knew you were a smart man.”

Marcus slid up beside your body, turning you so your back pressed snug against his chest. “Safety first, baby. Wrap it before you tap it, right?”

Your laughter became strangled when he slid inside you, splitting you open on his cock. “Oh my god. You feel so good!” you cried when he began to move inside you after a long pause to let you adjust to the sheer size of him.

Marcus started at a slow pace, getting a feel for the way your walls tightened around him. Gripping the bed covers with your right hand, you reached your left hand up and around to tangle in his hair behind you. He picked up the pace as you tugged gently on his locks, his lips peppering your neck with soft, wet kisses.

When, at last, Marcus began pounding into you, you reached between your legs with your right hand to rub your clit. Despite the cool air blowing over your bodies, the heat between you had your skin glistening with sweat. You cried as Marcus hit a particularly pleasurable spot deep within you, his own moans morphing into grunts as you clamped down on him.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight around me. I can feel you clench every time I hit this spot.” His words were murmured into your ear, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. Marcus plunged forward to hit your g-spot, proving his point when you clenched tightly around him once again. “Yeah, just like that.”

You plunged clear over the precipice then, crying out his name and any number of praises as an orgasm overtook you. Marcus talked you through it, his voice like sugary syrup, while he never once let up on his thrusts. Minutes, hours later, he followed you into the overwhelming bliss with a shout of your name followed by a string of curses.

“That was amazing.” Marcus nuzzled your neck as his hips slowed, the last shots of his cum dribbling into the condom. “You are amazing.”

Lost for words, you just hummed in agreement. Knackered from the excessive heat, long day of investigative work, the alcohol, and the mind-blowing sex, you hovered on the edge of sleep while Marcus got up to dispose of the condom. He returned with a wet cloth and cleaned you up with tender dedication. Tossing the cloth aside, he paused, standing naked and uncertain next to the bed.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” you replied sleepily, tossing the covers down so you could both slide under them. “I hope you like to cuddle, Mister.”

Grinning at you, Marcus wrapped his arm around you, curving his body around yours. “You bet your ass I do.”

You both fell into an exhausted sleep feeling hopeful and satiated for the first time in a long time.

Waking up in Director Pike’s arms was not something you expected would happen on this case. You fantasized. You hoped. Sure, all of that. But you never, ever expected it would actually happen. But it did and it felt fucking incredible.

You already knew he was damn good at his job. It was impressive to see that his single-minded focus and massive talent carried over to his skills in the bedroom as well. You replayed the night before in your head as you showered, remembering with fondness all the ways Marcus surprised you, how cherished he made you feel, the sheer pleasure he brought you.

How were you supposed to focus on the case now when your mind was completely overcome with thoughts of Marcus. You were almost relieved when he slipped out of the room after sharing a cup of hotel room coffee with you. You weren’t sure you could keep your hands to yourself if he stayed much longer, the rumbled, sleepy look proving almost too adorable to resist.

Marcus met you in the hotel lobby, two large cups of iced coffee and a brown paper bag clutched in his hands an hour after waking up together. “Good morning, Jersey girl,” he greeted you with a wink, dark brown eyes sparkling in the soft morning light filtering through the windows.

You chuckled at the variation of your nickname, already knowing that would become his signature endearment for you. “Good morning, handsome. Long time, no see.”

His grin grew wider. “Come on. Let’s ride together. No sense in taking two cars anymore.” He handed you one of the iced coffees and the paper bag, pulling the keys to his SUV out of his pocket.

Clad in gray cargo shorts, blush polo shirt, and a pair of boat shoes, Marcus looked ready for a day spent on the water rather than investigating art theft. The sight made your mouth water and you gulped at the iced coffee. As he drove, you both munched on the bagels he picked up along with the coffees while waiting for you.

“I figured we’d start taking a look at some of these hot springs to get a feel for them and see if anything else in the clues pops out at us,” Marcus explained between bites. He always chewed with his mouth closed and waited until after he swallowed to speak. You loved a man with impeccably manners.

“Great idea. I put a list of them in the file.”

“I know,” he beamed at you. “I saw it last night, before… It’s what gave me the idea. Thought we’d start with La Paloma and work our way down the list. What do you think?”

You nodded, sitting back in the passenger seat contentedly. Much to your surprise, there wasn’t an ounce of awkwardness between you two after last night’s surprising turn of events. Everything felt natural, like it was meant to turn out this way and you basked in the effortless interactions between you and Marcus.

Marcus spoke to the manager upon your arrival at La Paloma Hot Springs & Spa and the gentleman gave you a quick tour of the facility before allowing the two of you to investigate on your own. You split up to cover more ground, the scent of mineral-rich water tickling your nose as you worked your way through the facility.

Searching the private soaking tubs, you ran your hands along the edges looking for evidence of hidden compartments that might contain the artifact. Still uncertain if that was what you were actually looking for, it didn’t hurt to search. When you found nothing, your focus shifted to the vintage décor including the old photographs hanging on the walls, looking for any signs or symbols that might be a clue.

An hour later, you and Marcus reconvened at the front desk, disappointed that you both came up empty, yet undeterred in your drive to figure out this case.

You visited a number of other hot springs, conducting the same kind of searches yet never finding additional clues or evidence.

“It’s like we’re missing something,” Marcus said as you both climbed into the SUV, burnt out and sweaty, after your latest search came up empty. You’d spent the entire day running from hot spring to hot spring across the small town to no avail.

“Yeah, but what could it be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not just any old hot spring? We need more to go on.”

Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming call from the TCPD. Another painting stolen right under their noses – or rather, right behind the officer’s back as he turned around while patrolling one of the galleries. The thief had lightning-fast reflexes, apparently.

“Alright, thanks Chief. We’ll head over there now.” You ended the call and relayed the information to Marcus.

“This guy sure is brazen. I’ll give him that,” he lamented, carefully spinning the SUV around to head toward the latest crime scene.

“He’s got some balls, nicking a painting while an officer is standing right there. It’s like he’s begging to be caught.”

“That or he’s just a fucking lunatic.” Marcus met your gaze for a long moment after parking the vehicle. “Is it wrong that part of me hopes we don’t catch him too soon?”

Your heart thumped in your chest, lips quirking upwards into a shy smile. “No, not after last night…” you admitted. “We could always stay a few days after solving the case and explore this.” You gestured between the two of you.

Shutting off the car, Marcus bobbed his head. His previously styled hair fell across his forehead, the heat having worn away the product he used this morning. “I’d really like that.”

The TCPD officer met you at the door and led the way to the scene of the latest theft, his shoulders hunched in shame. “I never saw him; he was there and gone in seconds. Managed to leave this behind though, taped where the painting had been.”

Marcus accepted the paper, holding it up so you could read it.

Where the serpent bathes in earth’s warm embrace, beneath the soothing waters, the heart of the sun lies hidden.

“This message is different. Different, but the same. I mean… I don’t know what I mean,” you sighed frustratedly.

Marcus patted your shoulder in a manner appropriate for a professional audience. “No. I get what you mean. It’s tying the clues together in a different way. Giving us more hints at once.”

Heaving a sigh of your own, you nodded. What a great relief to feel understood. “Exactly.”

Conferring with the forensics team first, you and Marcus departed when they confirmed the thief left no trace evidence behind. No fibers, fingerprints, or hair. Nothing to clue you in on who the thief could be. Nothing, not even on the adhesive used to tape the clue to the wall or the paper itself. The perp was either lucky or extremely tidy.

Seated once again in the corner booth at Harry’s dingy pub, Marcus devoured his burger while you daintily nibbled at your fries. The extremely high temperature ruined your appetite. The case file sat open on the table as you placed sticky notes on a photocopy of the latest clue.

“’Where the serpent bathes’… that has to refer to the hot springs, right? And the serpent would symbolize this Quintessential guy?”

“Quetzalcoatl. The god’s name is Quetzalcoatl, for Christ’s sake,” Harry chimed in as he dropped off a fresh round of cold draft beers.

“Yeah, that guy,” you said, pointing a fry at Harry in thanks. Marcus laughed at your adorable ridiculousness. You made investigating this mind-boggling case fun.

“Right. And ‘in the earth’s warm embrace’ refers to the warm waters of the hot springs as well. That’s caused by geothermal activity, is that correct, Harry?” Marcus questioned.

The grizzled old barkeep lingered by your table, too caught up in his own curiosity to return to his duties. “Mmhmm, that’s what they say. I’m no rock scientist, mind.”

“You mean a geologist?” you chirped, a shit-eating grin gracing your pretty face.

“Yes, you mouthy little shit. Don’t sass me or I won’t help solve this case,” Harry grumbled. For a moment, Marcus worried you would be offended by the old man, but your tinkling laughter convinced him otherwise.

Marcus stifled a laugh when you rolled your eyes playfully and re-focused his attention on the clue. “That could be the earth’s warm embrace part, then. And ‘beneath the soothing waters’ refers again to the hot springs.”

“Uh huh,” Harry chimed in again, pulling the case file closer to him, aged eyes squinting to read your notes. Neither of you would normally let a civilian get so involved in a case, but Harry proved himself integral to solving this particularly challenging and unusual case. Pointing an arthritic finger to the final line of today’s clue, beneath the soothing waters, he added, “It refers to the artifact being hidden there, beneath one of the hot springs.”

Harry slipped into the booth on your side, and you flashed Marcus a smile. The old man was fully invested now. Thankfully the bar was empty but for a few regulars who could help themselves as far as Harry was concerned.

“Ok, so to summarize, we know the hot springs are involved,” you stated, processing the facts aloud as well as in your head. “And we know that the artifact is hidden beneath one of them. The question we’ve been chasing all day is which one, right? So, do any of the known hot springs have a serpent symbol or painting or something along those lines associated with it?”

Marcus shook his head as you flipped through pages of notes. “Definitely didn’t see any in the ones we checked out today.”

“Oh, for the love of all that is holy, you two idiots will be my age by the time you figure this out,” Harry stood from the booth, his voice gruff with annoyance, though whether that was from dealing with the two of you or the effort it took to stand with aged, arthritic bones was anyone’s guess. “You’ll want to check out Riverbend Hot Springs in the morning. You’re welcome.”

Mouths agape, you both watched the cantankerous old man shuffle back to the bar, grumbling to himself the whole way.

“Did he just solve the case for us?” Marcus asked when his gaze shifted back to you.

“I think so,” you laughed. “Thank fucking goodness. My eyes were starting to cross from looking at this file so much.”

Looking it up on his phone, Marcus confirmed that the Riverbend Hot Springs were closed until morning. Knowing their work was done for the day, he flashed you a heated look. “Want to go back to my room? Maybe cool off in the shower?”

Marcus had a nicer room than yours, the walk-in shower encased in glass and large enough to fit a few people. The perks of being a director, you guessed.

You barely glimpsed at the room before Marcus backed you against the already deadbolted door. His mouth pressed against yours, tongue dancing along the seam of your lips, begging for entry. You let him in eagerly, tongues tangling and teeth clashing with urgency. His hands were everywhere, stripping away your clothes and sliding against already bare skin in turn.

Once you both gave into the spark, stoking the fire into flames last night, the want turned into a blazing inferno that neither of you could extinguish. Not that you wanted to, anyway. No, you were content to burn to a crisp as the fire raged.

Marcus had you stripped naked within minutes, his mouth having never left your own in the process. Eager to return the favor from last night, you sunk to your knees, undoing his belt and shorts as you stared up at him. Marcus tore off his shirt while you shoved his shorts and boxer briefs down his slim hips to pool at his feet.

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus moaned as you wrapped your hand around his hardened length, testing the girth and weight of it in your grip. You tugged playfully a few times, getting to know the feel of him. Still staring into his lust blown eyes, you slowly leaned forward to glide the head of his cock around your plump lips before slipping him inside your mouth. A delicious whine fell from his lips when your tongue lapped at the little droplet of precum without breaking eye contact.

Not wanting to torture him unnecessarily, you began to move, taking more of his cock into your mouth until he bumped the back of your throat. Bobbing your head, you soaked his cock with your saliva, sucking every now and then to increase the sensation. Your left hand tugged the base of him where your mouth couldn’t quite reach, twisting with each upward stroke to further enhance his pleasure, as your right hand massaged his balls.

Panting heavily above you, Marcus slapped his palms against the door to support himself as you continued sucking his cock. Experimenting with how far you could take him, you hollowed your cheeks, easing farther down his length and breathed through your nose.

“Jersey girl… ungh. Please, I’m gonna come down that pretty little throat if you don’t stop.” You could feel his thigh muscles flex and twitch with the effort of not blowing his load down your throat as he stuttered out the words.

Taking pity on the man, you eased back until his cock audibly popped out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you until Marcus severed the link by stepping backwards on shaky legs.

“You are too good at that, my little minx. Come here.” Marcus helped you up, leading you into the shower once you regained your balance. He kissed you deeply as the cool water from the shower head cascaded over you both.

The water felt good on your overheated skin and Marcus pressed you backwards against the sturdy glass. Hiking a leg up around his waist with one hand, he gently cradled the side of your face in the other. Your gazes locked as he reached around your thigh and teased your clit.

“So wet for me, my Jersey girl.” Already on edge from sucking his cock, you were drenched and ready for him. “Did sucking my cock turn you on that much, my Jersey girl?” You mewled and, with the slightest shift of his hips, Marcus notched his cock at your entrance, feeding you inch by inch until your walls gripped his entire length tightly. “Fuck, you feel like heaven.”

Droplets of water rained down your bodies as he thrusted into you, your lips pressed open-mouthed against each other, noses bumping, exchanging breaths and moans without actually kissing. The stretch was intense but pleasurable, and you could feel every ridge of him inside you.

You suddenly realized why that was.

“Shit, we forgot a condom,” you said in between moans, your hands grasping his plump ass to make certain he didn’t stop.

Marcus showed no signs of stopping, his hips almost seemed to pick up the pace. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no!” you gasped; eyes fluttering shut as he nudged that spot inside you just right. “Please don’t ever fucking stop.”

“Ok,” he breathed against your lips. “I’m clean and it’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone.”

“Same,” you replied. “And I’m on birth control, so please, come inside me.”

Marcus groaned deeply at that, his head shifting so he could nip at your neck, soothing the sting with little kitten licks of his tongue. Pulling back, he murmured, “Turn around.”

You did so, whining as he slipped out of you. With a gentle hand, Marcus pushed your upper body against the glass and pulled your hips closer to him so your back arched perfectly. Your tits were pressed up against the glass wall of the shower and, just beyond it, you could see your reflections in the mirror. Only a slight mist of steam swirled in the air from the temperature of the water, and it didn’t hinder your view at all as Marcus closed in behind you, slipping his cock back where it belonged.

You watched your reflections, mesmerized, as he fucked into you, his wet hair flopping over his forehead when he bent forward to kiss along your shoulders and neck. Your hands came up on either side of your head to brace yourself against the glass, hoping that the strength of his thrusts wouldn’t cause it to shatter.

Marcus reached a hand around your thigh, slipping between your legs to pluck at your clit as you fucked you. Every single cell in your body felt aflame, ready to burst at the pleasure racing through you. It didn’t take long for you to explode, eyes squinted shut as you keened.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that. Come on my cock, my little Jersey girl. I can feel your cum gushing around me. Fuck, baby.” Once again, Marcus talked you through it in the soft voice of his. He continued thrusting as your walls trembled around him, driving him right over the edge after you, rope and rope of cum splashed your walls as he made the loveliest sex sounds in your ear.

You stayed like that, pressed up against the glass with the weight of Marcus leaning against you, chests heaving, until you both came back down from the high. Taking a few minutes to actually wash the day off each other, you settled on the bed wrapped in towels afterwards.

The two of you talked long into the night and, unable to keep your hands or mouths off each other, you had sex twice more before falling asleep.

Unable to come to an agreement on whether backup would be necessary at this point, you and Marcus finally decided to bring one officer to investigate the Riverbend Hot Springs with you. An extra pair of eyes could be useful, on that you both agreed.

Known for its scenic outdoor pools on the banks of the Rio Grande, visitors usually flocked to Riverbend. The facility not only had the hot springs, but hotel rooms and spaces for recreational vehicles as well. The manager was less than pleased when Marcus informed him that any guests present would have to stay in their rooms and out of both the common and private pools during the search. The last thing the investigation needed was public interference or contaminated evidence.

Searching the private pools first to appease the guests and resort manager, Marcus swiped his hand over his sweaty face when you found nothing.

“Let’s check the common pools now,” he sighed, wondering if it would be another fruitless adventure.

Another two hours of searching – lifting stones, moving decorative displays, going inside the pools themselves, even going so far as to request a shovel from the grounds crew to poke around in the landscaping – turned up nothing.

“At least there’s only one pool to go,” you said, trying to stay positive about finding something. “This has gotta be the one, right?”

“Let’s hope,” Marcus replied. Drenched in a mixed of sweat and mineral water, he wanted nothing more than to slip between cool sheets with you and an ice-cold drink. This case sucked.

Located at the far end of the property, overlooking the Rio Grande, a rock wall encased the final pool for support given the topography on the side along the river dipped lower. Marcus directed the officer to start at one end while he joined you in working your way up from the riverbank. Thorough in your search, you left literally left no stone unturned. One particular large slab placed in the landscaping next to the pool like a decorative display required your and Marcus’ strength combined to lift, and you gasped when you saw what sat in hiding beneath it.

“Is that a fucking trap door?” Marcus asked with a grunt as he glanced down and pushed the rock slab to the side.

“Yeah, it fucking is.” Bending down to open it, Marcus stopped you.

“Wait a second, Jersey girl. We don’t want to just go rushing down there.” He called the officer over for a quick chat, asking him to find the manager and see if anyone knew anything about where the trapdoor led.

Minutes later, the manager and resort engineer joined the group. No one knew a damn thing about what they found. It wasn’t depicted on the as-built drawings or any other schematics the engineer had on file. That did not bode well. Turning to the officer, you asked him to call for back up.

“We’ll head down to scope it out. Come down once backup gets here. In the meantime, please keep the guests away from this area,” Marcus directed the officer and manager before turning to you. “Ready, Jersey girl?”

Pulling your service weapon from its holster, you nodded confidently. “With you at my side, I’m ready for anything.”

Marcus flashed that boyish grin before wrenching the trapdoor open. As suspected, narrow steps carved into the stone descended down into darkness. Before Marcus could ask for one, the facility engineer handed him a flashlight.

Stepping carefully down the steps with the flashlight held high in one hand and his service weapon in the other, Marcus descended into the dark unknown with you right on his heels. At the bottom, a pathway led through more rock, dim light visible in the distance. You reach out while walking along the pathway to find the rock is surprisingly warm.

“I expected it to be cool to the touch,” you murmured, not wanting to make too much noise in case someone or something waited in the shadows.

“Hmm?”

“The walls,” you pointed when Marcus turned around. “They’re warm.”

Directing the beam of light in the direction you pointed, Marcus touched the back of his hand to the wall and looked back at you with a questioning brow. “How?”

“I have no fucking clue,” you shrugged.

“Latent heat from the surface?” he took a guess.

“Your guess is as good as mine. We’re below ground deep enough that it shouldn’t be this warm.”

Marcus continued on down the path, the rock walls growing warmer the farther you progressed. Finally, you turned a corner into a dimly lit chamber, the air filled with oppressive heat making it hard to breathe. You both scanned the room for threats, finding none. The chamber was oddly free of spider webs or bugs or people, aside from the two of you, but a pool of water bubbled inside a ring in the stone floor. Above the pool, an abnormally large, fiery opal appeared to float in the air, the glow from it the only source of light in the chamber aside from the flashlight in Marcus’ hand.

“What the fuck?” you questioned, confused as all hell why the gem just floated in air. “I’m getting some real X-Files type vibes and I DO NOT like it.”

Marcus couldn’t help the twitch of his lips even though he was just as confused as you. “This must be the Flame of Quetzalcoatl.”

“Ya think?” Your nerves made you snarky, a trait Marcus found profoundly adorable and endearing.

Stepping closer to the artifact, Marcus shielded his eyes from the fiery glow. He reached out with one long finger, nearly touching the object when the grinding sound of rock against rock reverberated through the chamber. Jerking back instinctually, both you and Marcus drew your pistols on the sudden intruder.

“Who the fuck are you?” you blurted at the man, your nerves shot to shit, your FBI training the only thing holding you together at that point.

Wild-haired, with oddly composed attire, the man practically vibrated with energy, a glint of insanity in his eerily green eyes. Under one arm, he carried another landscape painting, likely just stolen from another gallery. As if by magic or something equally befitting the utterly odd nature of this entire case, the other stolen paintings appeared, strategically placed along the rock walls rounding the chamber.

“I really don’t like this, Marcus,” you said through gritted teeth. His concerned gaze met yours briefly. “Me either, Jersey.”

It happened, as these things tend to do, suddenly and unexpectedly. The man lunged forward, dropping the painting without thought, and reached a trembling, emaciated hand toward the artifact. Marcus matched the man’s movement, reaching for him rather than the floating, glowing gem. In the process, a glass pedestal you didn’t even know was there, nearly invisible but surely the reason the artifact appeared to be floating in air, toppled over, sending the artifact flying.

You watched, awestruck and frozen in shock, as Marcus tackled the crazy man to the hard ground and the artifact shattered against the rock wall, simultaneously. Almost immediately, the temperature plunged until a damp coolness filled the formerly stuffy chamber, and the man shrieked in despair.

“No! No! No! You’ve ruined everything!” The man continued screeching. Moments later, TCPD officers rushed into the stone room, a few assisting Marcus with securing the thief in cuffs.

Among the backup that just arrived, the police chief stepped up to your side as you gave Marcus a hand in getting back on his feet. “Strangest thing,” the thick-bearded, squat man in uniform said, “the temperature dropped at least twenty-five degrees out of nowhere, just as we started making our way down here. Am I to believe it had something to do with whatever happened down here?”

You and Marcus shared a look before shrugging at the police chief. “I have no clue what even happened down here,” Marcus admitted. Tilting his chin in the crazy man’s direction, he added, “Your boys will bring him in for questioning? We’d like a shot at him, too.”

“Of course. We’ll get him processed. Come by the station whenever you’re finished up here.” The chief followed the officers escorting the man from the chamber, leaving behind a forensics team to gather evidence.

Standing above the shattered artifact, you sighed. “How the hell do I write this up in a report?”

“Very carefully and creatively,” Marcus replied with a smirk.

The interrogation didn’t take long, the man caving like a deck of cards in the wind. His name was Edmund Fawkes, a local starving artist driven mad by the excessive heat. Already obsessed with ancient mythology and local lore, he discovered the hidden chamber containing Quetzalcoatl’s Flame and, seeking the power and prosperity described in the legends, decided to take possession of it by appeasing the ancient god with landscape paintings.

It didn’t work, clearly, but Edmund was relentless in his insanity, continuing his thievery until you and Marcus caught him.

None of it made sense and there were so many things that could be attributed to entirely coincidental circumstances that you didn’t really care how the pieces fit together. The thief had been caught, the paintings returned to the appropriate galleries largely undamaged, and the town was no longer in the clutches of a deadly heat wave. That was all that really mattered.  

On your way out of the police station, the case solved as far as the bureau was concerned, you turned to Marcus. “How long are you sticking around?”

Gazing at you with those chocolate puppy eyes, his lips twitched into a grin. “I have several weeks of PTO saved up. Figured I’d use some of that. Maybe all of it if I have a reason to.”

You grinned back at him. “I’m sure we could find a reason for that.”

An hour later, the sun dipping past the desert horizon, you found yourselves naked and neck deep in the soothing mineral water of a private hot springs pool. Given that business was completed, you checked out of the hotel the bureau set you both up in and reserved a room at the best resort in town for a couple days of relaxation.

“I’m going to miss this odd little town, especially Harry and his dingy pub,” Marcus said, pulling you closed to his side as you soaked in the soothing water.

“Me, too. I’m going to miss you most, though. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, both professionally and otherwise,” you admitted, leaning your head against his bare shoulder.

Marcus stilled for a moment before tightening his hold on you. “Why don’t you come back to DC with me?”

“What?” Your head tilted back to meet his eyes.

“You said you put in for a transfer back to the east coast, right?” You nodded and he continued. “Well, come back with me and we’ll have that transfer fast tracked. I’m certain there’s a position for you in DC. We won’t be on the same team, but that’s probably a good thing.”

You giggled at the boyish grin he flashed you. “If you’re sure, I’m game. I just don’t want you to feel like we’re rushing into anything.”

“Pssh, rushing, smushing. I’ve waited long enough to find someone like you. Now that I have, I’m not letting you go,” Marcus insisted. Gesturing between you, he added, “I mean it. There’s something amazing here, I know it. We can leave in a few days, spend a week or two exploring the city and each other before getting back to work.”

At a loss for a worthy response, you pressed your lips against his. The soft kiss quickly turned heated as you spun, straddling his lap, with your hands gripping the stone edge of the pool. Marcus ran his fingertips down the slick skin of your bare back as you squirmed into place, his cock swelling to life at the feel of you above, against, around him.

“I haven’t gotten a chance to ride you yet,” you murmured against his lips, grinding your bare pussy down on him.

“Now’s your chance, Jersey girl,” Marcus gasped through a moan. “Take me and use me, baby.”

Overheated despite the contrasting bite of cool air on your damp skin and warm water engulfing half your body, you eased yourself down onto his cock. You’d never get used to the exquisite stretch as he split you open. Drawing out the anticipation, you slid down his length with agonizing slowness, eliciting delicious whines from Marcus.

“Don’t torture me, baby. Please,” he begged to no avail. Peppering his handsome face with kisses, you kept the pace slow and torturous until he writhed beneath you.

At last, you took his full length inside you and started to move, bouncing eagerly on his cock with your head thrown back in pleasure. Marcus’ eyes stared at your breasts, bobbing along the water line and glistening from splashes of the mineral water as you moved on him. Mesmerized, he could look nowhere else, and his fingers shifted to pluck at the hardened peaks of your nipples.

The air temperature continued to drop as night set in, steam rising up from the warm water of the pool, dancing along your skin in beautiful swirls of water vapor. The clear, starry sky the perfect backdrop to your love making – for that’s what it was now, so much more than sex this time as you gave your whole self over to this wonderful, unexpected man who changed your life in a matter of days.

Overwhelmed with feelings, you keened as his cock nudged at all the right placing, your clit stimulated by grinding on his lap. “Fuck, Marcus. I’m gonna cum.”

Marcus thrust his hips upward at that statement, eager to drive you straight over the cliff into that beautiful abyss. “Do it, baby. Come all over my cock, my beautiful Jersey girl.���

Always good at following instructions, you did just that. Your eyelids slipped closed as you spasmed around him, head thrown back in ecstasy, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.

“That’s it, just like that,” Marcus crooned, pressing soothing kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. “You’re strangling my cock, baby. Gonna make me come too, sexy girl.”

A few more erratic thrusts upward and Marcus came with a fury, cock pulsing with rope after rope of his spend deep inside you. Breathless and exhausted, you clung to each other until shivers settled in from the plunging temperature.

“Let’s get inside, my Jersey girl. We’ll clean up, climb under the covers, and cuddle while we make plans for the future.”

fin

[feelinungry]

and i will always, always, be defending the "plot-holes" that are not actually plot-holes at all. i've seen people on facebook complain so many times about the ending of the game - about the siege of talmberg to be more exact.

"just attack it", "just take it down", "why doesn't divish just do it", "ohh his wife he can't even fuck! nobody gives a damn", "henry doesn't even really care for radzig at this point" etc.

and i have to go back to that one solitary thing this game literally cannot exist without: love. it's the main aspect, it's the pillars the story stands on, it's everything.

medieval movies and books like to picture the old times ala skyrim: "my son was very young when he died. but he did so while doing his duty. he fell for skyrim! he fell for the empire! i do not mourn for i am proud!"

"oh, i loved my father more than anything. but he is gone now. that is life."

it is. but. hear me out. people back then - were actually just like people now. we break down when we lose someone we adore, cherish, love, protect. no matter how stoic we may be, we don't take it lightly, do we?

so, if you think about it, is it a plot-hole, when divish refuses to attack his castle because

it's his home and he loves it

his wife is in there

his friend is also in there?

robard would not attack if it were divish in there. radzig would not attack if it were henry in there. hans would not attack if it were hanush in there. istvan would not attack if it were erik in there. captain bernard would not attack if it were hans in there.

it all comes back to love. and wanting people you care about safe.

martin running back to certain death because his wife is in the village when the cumans attack.

both parents worrying about nothing but their beloved son even while they are being brutally murdered.

everyone on talmberg willing to lock henry up just to keep him away from skalitz (for reasons yet unknown).

theresa making a last stand for someone just as lost as her.

the understanding he's met with when henry comes and admits his failure to radzig, the fact that he went against direct order. (nothing, absolutely nothing else but radzig being in debt to martin, or radzig being someone close to henry, could explain the understanding, the acceptance, and the outcome of the whole situation. how do you think henry - who is just a young man, not a hero, not a dragonborn, not a chosen one - would get away with all this?)

henry backed out of the night raid on talmberg because hans was wounded and wouldn't survive long enough for the mission to succeed.

hans (in one of the outcomes) carried him out on his back, saving his fat ass. no time for glory, no time for saving the hostages when it's suddenly your best friend who is on the ground and bleeding out. he might have succeeded with the mission. yet he didn't hesitate when suddenly it was him who was put in the shoes of those who just wanted to keep their loved ones safe. it was stephanie for divish (he approved the raid). it was radzig for henry (he was the one who went first and most willingly). and it was henry for hans (who immediately backed out on henry's behalf). all those actions were based on love.

would you attack talmberg, knowing there was someone you loved? someone you wanted to know better, someone you wanted to learn how to love, someone who could have been much closer if he only tried? someone you only just met?

the whole story starts with love, continues with love, ends with love. it is everywhere you look and you don't even have to romance anyone to see it, to feel it. it is in the npcs' lives, it's the motivation behind so many actions. it's in henry's decisions. in your decisions.

because, don't you just love this game?

[zeravmeta]

oh my fucking god civilight eternas module description ..

YOU WILL GRIEVE THIS WOMAN FOR NOW AND FOREVER MORE

context/spoilers below

So bards got a module and CVE got one as well and you can read the story for hers Here but basically.

Her module story is pretty straightforward with Kaltsit still mourning and asking her occasionally whether or not she actually is Theresa while Amiya and Doctor have just. adjusted to having CVE around and are happy with her since she helps out around RI and even serves Amiya as almost a nanny kind of figure

But she's changing.

CVE itself thinks the line is blurring. She's gone from denying outright that she's Theresa to subtly changing herself to think less like a computer and more like a person. More like Theresa herself.

it's left intentionally vague on purpose (for the eternal grief copium of course) but CVE is either slowly morphing into a full on Theresa copy, or there's more of her within CVE than even CVE may be aware of.

it is said that the best revenge is living well, after all...

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

What is the 'captainverse' shit? I always just ignored it tbh but I have seen many incels justify shipping the canon lesbians with men because 'captain is canonically male so all valks are bi' when as far as I can tell captain is canonically not fucking real as the only captain of the hyperion ever mentioned is Himeko.

Hmmm so I'd like to avoid being overly negative. I'll answer you, but watch your tone in the future.

Captainverse was a storyline that spanned a ton of events over multiple years. It concluded last year or so with one final fluffy event after all the drama. The Captainverse storyline isn't relevant to the main story of Hi3 but happens in the Sea of Quanta, so it would be "real" in that sense.

Bronie AKA Haxxor Bunny (has an expy in Honkai Star Rail named Silver Wolf, which you may be familiar with) appears briefly in the Moon Arc, and one of Misteln's Stigmata children seemed to hail from her world. There's also suspicious wish-granting devices in the sea that may or may not link back to Sa's shenanigans, but we don't have proof of that (plus those were written long before Sa was).

The main character of the Captainverse is an ex high-ranking Schicksal captain hailing from an alternate world to the Main Story's, referred to only as... "Captain". There's also another recurring person named "Ferryman" who turned out to be a hopeless version of Captain due to some time shenanigans. He has his own Hyperion, separate from the one in canon. I think his original backstory was being sent on some mission by Otto in the Sea? He was originally designed as a self-insert but later became his own character.

Captainverse has ship tease with some girls, but there's also plenty of girls who show zero romantic interest in the Captain, so you've been told a generalization. The main "ships" with the Captain are two Theresas who aren't actually called Theresa: the vampire Luna and the immortal tactician Kongming. Captain saved their lives at great cost to himself... the fireworks...

Many of these stories are quite well-told and may bring you to tears TuT

Oh, Captainverse actually has its fair share of sapphics. If you like that, it's a shame you never gave it a chance. For example, Kasumi (amnesiac Sakura with extra steps) and a Kallen from a different world found each other in Captainverse and seem well on their way to find the happy ending they never got in the main story due to things such as "dying". Kasumi's origin story event was also a direct result of Kallen being in love with Sakura...

@sacron1143 knows the most about actual Captainverse lore, so best to ask there if you're genuinely curious. Don't bother if you're gonna be a hater though. There's also this document but I'm not sure it's fully up to date.

I hope that gave you sufficient context! That said, I think you're better off just ignoring what the people you don't agree with do for fun. Clearly, neither of you are arguing in good faith to begin with.